#like i know they can make food and use illusion magic for clothes

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

You've been living a peaceful life for the last 100 years, trying to be off the radar.

You did help Strange a few times from afar, but becoming an active participant? No, you had enough of that.

Your owned ranch, your owned daily routines. You were almost healed from centuries of fighting for your life, ideals and power.

Until one day Strange broke his part of the deal.

"I need your help."

You sighed. He never cared about your garden. Always appearing when you were searching for escape with your flowers.

"No, Stephen. Whatever it is, I don't care. And please levitate. You're leaving traces."

"it's Agatha Harkness."

You looked at him. No emotions. He was waiting for your reaction. But you didn't give him any clues.

"Since when can't you fight a bound witch?"

You turned back to your apple tree. You knew in what state Agatha was. Not a threat, not an opponent. She was too deep in her illusion.

"Everything is going to change soon. There are… Entities who want her free."

"Name me one entity who would want to be betrayed by her."

"I can name you two. The boy."

"One of the twins. " Only the sound of your garden shears was heard.

It wasn't even a question. You already felt it. Stephen wouldn't be here if the reason wasn't so serious.

"And the other one?"

"Your old friend."

"Why don't you do this yourself, Stephen?"

"You know I'm not allowed to interact with her."

___

WestView used to be a charming town. Before the Hex. You could still feel the remains of Wanda's magic. People were still scared, wounds were too fresh.

You quickly found Agatha. She was blissfully living through her illusion. Wanda definitely had style.

You knew Harkness when she was dangerous, now she was weak and vulnerable.

If it was the old you, her neck would snap in a second. But you changed. And she wasn't the one you were searching for.

If Stephen was right you were all fucked.

You followed Agatha to the police station, pawn shop, and her house.

The boy wasn't here yet. You had some time. You built yourself a charming backstory, you pretended to love bad coffee. In a month you were already a citizen of WestView.

What if Stephen was wrong? This happened before. Agatha was protected by her own dreams until the cracks the power of nature itself called for you.

You rushed to your hotel room. You needed protective spells. You were not the only witch in town.

___

Stephen was right. Unfortunately.

Someone knocked on the door, but didn't wait for the answer.

"I thought you could afford a better place."

Stephen was right. You were all fucked.

"I thought you're old enough not to play with food."

Rio laughed at the remark. You almost forgot that sound.  You recognized her immediately. Sure the clothes were different, hair, eyes were greener than you remembered.

There was no point in the book you were holding. You started remembering that spells never worked against Rio.

"What are you doing here?" She noticed your gesture of peace. No fight tonight.

"Making sure that you're keeping the monster on the leash."

"oh, it's so much fun not being a monster in this scenario." Rio smiled like a child who finally got her approval.

"It's not about you." You suddenly felt tired. You had this talk before. Each century you were alive.

"It's about you." Rio chose to come closer.

"Is that a holster under your jacket?"

"Yeah, Agatha is in her Swedish crime show period. You like it?"

Rio got rid of her jacket, which simply disappeared in thin air. Brunette always loved theatricality.

"Sure." You were not planning for her to be in your space. You tried to step aside.

"No, no, no." Rio grabbed your hand. "You wanted to talk, let's talk."

You noticed the green light. No doubt her crown was a reminder of her power. Her cosmic power, her power over you.

"Leave the covenless witch alone." You whispered. Oh, but Rio heard every word. She smirked.

"or else?" you could feel her magic all over you.

You formed the fireball in your palm. Light was dancing in Rio's eyes.

"oh, isn't it our favorite foreplay?" witch mimicked your move with her free hand. Green rose appeared. "I missed this."

She let go of you and offered the flower. You took it.

You started remembering. Once it was like this. Every day. You almost forgot why you were here.

"leave Agatha as she is." You still were looking at the flower. It was flawless. Created by nature itself.

"really?" Rio groaned. "if I had known you'd care about her so much I'd lure her into darkness ages ago."

You could hear the hurt in her voice. It wasn't a distraction from her plan. She turned to the door. You flicked your wrist. Thin line of fire appeared around Rio's neck.

"I can't kill you. But I can definitely slow you down."

"till your sorcerer comes?" Rio laughed. She tilted her head and it was enough for you to hit the wall. If she wanted to you'd never get up again.

"Let's have a deal. You give me one date and I give you one more day of bound covenless witch."

___

This idea was so wrong. With Rio you never had courtship per se. The day you met she stayed with you. It was always about the sparks that amplified the worst in both of you.

You needed to know Rio's plan. You needed to win yourself some time.

This time Rio didn't invite herself In. You opened the door. This time it was a bouquet of flowers that never even existed. No doubt, Rio created them only for you.

This time it was a green suit. Always on brand.

Of course she was driving. It was the most human thing you ever saw her doing.

"Where are we going?"

"We'll drink and watch the wolves howl at the full moon."

"There are no wolves here."

"I brought a few with me."

___

"Why did you leave me?" it was her first question after the awkward silence.

You were sitting on the branches that Rio lowered for you. Pack of white wolves was playing in front of you, occasionally asking for attention.

"Is that important?"

"don't mortals talk about their experiences, share feelings?"

"you're not a mortal."

"tonight I am."

You shrugged. You had to play this game.

"I was tired of being… A villain." whiskey was still burning your throat after all these years.

"I never asked you to."

"you never did. But you sure as hell were reminding me every day of who I was. With you I've forgotten the weight of my choices. With you everything was just a game…"

You felt her touch on your skin. Rio guided you towards her. You remembered this. She kissed you like this before. Many moons like this ago.

She was gentle. Always was. You just forgot it.

"You were never a game."

"And you were always thriving on chaos.",

You stood up. Immediately one of the wolves ran towards you. He was friendly, but like with Rio you were not sure he wasn't trained to pretend.

"Why do you need a covenless witch?"

"Is it important right now? It's always about the balance."

"Right. And a few witches you can take for yourself."

Greens started wrapping around your waist and arms. Rio was calling you. Slowly you let them drag you to her. You used to play like this. You used to allow her this.

"Give me another date and you'll get another day."

___

The next day you went to her house. She recreated the garden you once had. With her powers it was so much easier.

"Remember how we used to play with reality?"

"Yes."

Rio remembered every single of your creations. She was attentive to details. You did play with reality. Both of you. You were luring your enemies into scenarios that could never be real. And after that Rio was feasting on them.

"Exactly like now you're playing with Agatha. You always protected your deal with her."

You preferred this Rio more. With the crown, with the flowers in the dress. It was her element.

"She's an effective killer. That's it."

"And what about the boy?"

"And what about your peaceful life?" Rio squeezed grapes and the wine poured in glasses. She offered you one.

"It is expectedly peaceful."

"Sounds boring. Maybe that's why you're here. With me? Missed the fun?"

What did she want to hear from you? You never cared about fun. You missed her. You missed your lover, your partner, your chosen one. You missed your garden. It was never fun. It was always you destroying everyone with fire.

Rio threw her Chalice on the ground. Wine turned into flowers. Again she was too close. She was behind you. She was seducing you with her breath on your neck.

"Rio…" You tried not to give in so easily. "I'm here because…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, the greater good." She was playing with your hair, whispering right into your soul. "It's all about not letting Agatha and the kid get their powers."

Her fingers were studying your heartbeat. She always thought that this curious mortal sound was only for her.

You only inhaled sharply. When you agreed to Stephen's plea you knew all about the risk. But you thought you were stronger than this.

"Let go of me."

When did her fingers travel to your neck? You didn't notice. Your whole body was tingling. Your soul was aching for her. You were alone for so long.

"You don't want this."

Of course you didn't. But Rio had no right to say it out loud.

___

Your third date was an unspoken agreement. You cooked. More for yourself, than for Rio. Old book of recipes reminded you of the hardships of trying to live amongst ordinary people.

"Candles are not lit."  Oh, that smug face. Rio always adored seeing your deadly powers in the most boring situations.

Table was between you this time.  You hoped it would help. It would give you a chance to win some time.

You tilted your head. Instead of candles - the fireplace became playful.  You disobeyed. In a very small detail, but Rio noticed.

This time the silence was longer, heavier. She wasn't eating. she wasn't playing.

"Do you ever miss your mortal family?"

"I do."

"What's it like?"

Rio never respected the concept of privacy. But those were the rules. You had to talk.

"Don't you know? Were you not there when both my husband and daughter died in my arms?"

You stood up for another bottle. Rio followed you to the kitchen.

"Did they… Did they give you what I couldn't?"

"They taught me once again to care about life. Respect the time. They reminded me that you're supposed to exist not only for your own sake."

You didn't admit that you barely remembered their faces. That the pain was almost gone. That for you it was just a fleeting moment. You already didn't remember whether it was real or not.

"Well, I remind everyone exactly this. But with you it's chaos, right?"

You could swear you saw a tear. Was Rio even capable of this? After all the time. all the damage. all the emptiness.

You pulled her closer. You wanted only to remind her that it was never her fault. You desperately wanted to remind her of that. You were clawing deeper and deeper into her. Biting. scratching, kissing whatever skin you could get.

You were tearing the silk. You pushed her against the kitchen aisle. It was always the chaos. But chaos that you wanted and were thriving for.

Now the chaos suddenly wanted to submit. You didn't expect that.

"I missed this." you were murmuring in her ear. You were ready to get on your knees for her. When did your hunger appear again? This time it was different. No burned land, no fallen trees, no skars and marks of struggle.

It was different this time. It took more than a hundred years for Rio to finally feel regret.

You didn't notice how you got into the bedroom. How clothes weren't yours anymore.

She took care of you. Rio always wanted only this.

___

The next day you didn't want to open your eyes. What if Rio wasn't there? Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm here."

Rio was watching you. She looked tense. She was sitting in the armchair, which now resembled the throne. She pointed to the cup of coffee on your bedside table.

"Charming as usual."

"We don't have much time, baby." And there it was. Your nickname. "Kid is coming tonight. We need to be there."

"Oh, no, no. I'm not letting you…"

"It's about the kid. Not a covenless witch. He needs to come with me. And you will make sure it happens. Isn't this what sorcerers want?"

"Yes."

"Well, then you'll have to join the road. Come baby, we don't have much time." she gave you a peck on the cheek. "It's gonna be like the old times."

You sighed. Yeah, this was going to be an adventure. You simply hoped that this night you saw the real Rio. And after this night you would stay the same.

[free-boundsoul]

I heard the song Suga Daddy by Noah Davis and my first thought was Gavin. And then I'm like...he's a demon, he doesn't need money.

And then my brain goes, but Freelancer does. And I'm not sure if it was going 'Freelancer would be the sugar baby' or 'Gavin would be the sugar baby and give the money to Freelancer'

[oceantornadoo]

IDK! HEAR ME OUT THO!!!

Simon, staging the break in and what not so he could push you back into his arms??? INSANE!

Delicious story. Thank you for the food! <3

so originally when i made that last fic (which unexpectedly blew up tysm everyone) i added in the creepy elements almost on accident?? but this and another reply has me thinking...

tw: slight humiliation (but you'll like it)=

simon riley wasn't a bad man. he also wasn't a bad husband. at least that's what he told himself.

when you had presented him with those divorce papers a bit ago (13 months and 4 days, but who was counting), he thought it was a bluff. a joke. he had gone too far in your last argument, and that was your reaction. when he told you he'd go to therapy, you stared at him with a look he'd only see on men in the battlefield. dead all the way through, a walking husk. so he signed them and went to therapy anyways.

the whole time, this whole 13-month break, where you had been 'building a new life' or whatever, he had been planning. internalizing the commentary his therapist would make, and then spitting it back out to you while you moved out of his place. every time you seemed to forget one extra box, and who's to say if he hid a couple in his room? he had a plan.

over time, simon really seemed to have learned so much from therapy. so much about communication. he had become open and welcoming, far from that man who would respond to your complaints with hard stares and a lack of words. so maybe you met for coffee a couple of times and that's how he knew about the cafe by your new place. maybe that's how he tailed you one night after a date, just to make sure this new guy didn't try anything (and not to figure out your unit number). whatever he did, he played a dangerous game by letting you have this illusion of freedom while balancing his presence in your life, just enough to make you want more. after weeks and week of stagnant progress, he needed one extra push. something small, not even a shove.

and if he happened to mention your unit number to a bunch of shady guys that hung out in the alley by your building? happened to brag about your pretty pussy and sweet-smelling panties? maybe mention your habit of not locking the window when you left for work? who's to say. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

and now here you were, back in his arms where you belonged. a little frightened but comforted in the knowledge that he could protect you. the ghost wasn't shed when he took his mask off, but you didn't need to know that.

--

your body was so used to being in simon's arms you didn't even realize you had been grinding on him for the past ten minutes. his boxers you wore were sticky with arousal as you grinded against his clothed cock in the dark. even in your dream, it was simon underneath you, no one else. "si." you panted, a near-whisper that only a military man could have heard. "dove?" he adjusted your sleeping positions, tossing the covers to give you more room to maneuver against him.

"i know i said that thing about the line not being crossed." he gave you a low chuckle. silly little girl. you had finally realized how much you needed him and he was going to milk you for all you were worth. "and?" you stopped. shit. he needed to seem more responsive. he moved you from his thigh to his boner using one arm, the other one snaking its way under your shirt to stroke your back. you moaned as he massaged the tension from the day's earlier events away, giving you sweet relief. the sweetness of the massage made a hard contrast to the friction in your core as he rubbed you against his hardened cock.

"spit it out, baby." he growled. "can you-fuck." his hand had moved to the back of your neck now, holding it in a tight grip. his hand was so large he could feel the pulse points on either side of your jaw, heart racing. finally. "can you get me off? just this once?" he snorted, moving you up and down against him faster, dragging your sensitive clit over and over. "what's the magic word?" he flipped you both around, pressing his body weight on top of you.

simon turned the light on, wanting to see how needy you were. you were panting, shirt sticky with sweat as your chest moved up and down with exertion. he hiked up your shirt and took off your boxers, exposing your sticky cunt to the cool air. he took a sniff of the fabric, noting your small gasp as if you didn't know how obsessed he was with you already. "magic word." your mouth dropped. guess you weren't getting off that easily. "please, simon." he clucked his tongue at that. "ghost?" he left out a short laugh, arms reaching out to tug his shirt off of you. your nipples were so hard, aching to be pinched and sucked just how you liked them. "not ghost." he reached over to his nightstand, pulling something out of the drawer. he fumbled with his hand for a second, then held yours up to the light as he slipped something on it.

"husband." the words left your mouth in a whoosh, eyes transfixed on your wedding ring that was on your hand. the one you had flung at him after he complained about the divorce papers, the one you said you'd rather die than wear again. and here it was, right back on your finger, sparkling in the lamplight.

simon captured your mouth in a rough kiss, entering you with his ring and middle finger at the same time. "so willing for your husband, hm? all puffy and wet. look at your cunt, darling." you both looked down at your pussy at the same time. it was squelching, your vibrator sessions not holding a candle to what your ex husband could do to you. you were almost embarrassed by how desperate your pussy looked, clit enlarged from its earlier friction. his fingers worked in and out of you, wedding ring covered in slick. you watched as he pressed his thumb to your clit in small circles, a tightening sensation in your lower belly rising to the surface. "simon, si-fuck" he gave your pussy a small slap, pulling his fingers out as you addressed him incorrectly. "husband, please." he entered you again roughly, drawing a low moan from you. he captured your nipple in his mouth, teething it just enough to make you hurt. punishment.

"please please please i'm right ther-" he pressed hard against your clit and sent you careening off the edge into your orgasm, back bowing off the bed. simon gave you small love bites as you recovered, hand still working your cunt to draw out your orgasm.

finally, he removed his fingers and drew back from you, forcing eye contact. he put both in his mouth, moaning at the taste of your arousal mixed with the metal from the wedding band. your jaw was still open, looking at him like you had never seen him before. like the sheep's skin had finally been removed, and now only the wolf remained.

"let's get you to bed, wife."

[a-whispering-echo]

below is a transcript of the rambles in my notes on my Pirate Au.

the concept is THERE okay? just not that thought out. Dream was originally in this au too, he has since been nerfed cus i just dont really like Dream, oops.

They're all from different ships and we're stranded on the same island - They have to work together to make a new ship and get off thhe Island

Dusts ship was infected with illness, he killed them all to stop them dying painfully from it, he planned to drown himself after killing them all, this didn't work, and he ended up washed up on the island - The grey Spirit

Most of Horrors ship died of starvation after they were low on supplies and the captain hoarded all the food for herself. when they were hit by the storm, Horror get his head wound from that and doesn't remember much of his life from before the crash, just knowing that he had a brother and that he has to make sure he's safe, he doesn't know he's already dead. - the Qualm's Tail

Killers ship had broken out into civil war, and almost everyone was killed in this war, most of them to his own hand, he was in the side of rebellion against their captain who was killing off their own crew for more shares of treasure, when they were hit by the storm, they're were only around ten men altogether, Killer doesn't much care what happened to his crew mates, he saw a lot of them as traitors and those he didn't he wasn't very close to anyway. - the Something New

Cross was sailing on his own, he was sent out by his town for supplies by his father, one of the leaders. Gaster hoped his son would die at sea, or at the very least, not come back. He got his wish when Cross' small boat couldn't handle the fierce tides of the ocean. Cross was mostly honoured to be chosen to go out, thinking it a time to prove himself, never realising that the people hated him until he spoke about his home life with the others, and they picked up on things he didn't. - the X

Nightmare was a prince who ran away when he was young due to the villagefolk believing him to be cursed by the devil due to his magic being dark in nature. he ran away and became one of the most feared pirates on the seas, stating that if everyone was going to treat him as if he was evil anyway, he might as well actually commit the crimes he was accused of. Nightmare exclusively worked alone, using illusion magic to make it seem like he had a huge crew to scare people off, but on his own he couldn't fight the tide and his ship hit a rock while he was asleep. - The Nightfall Mare

They arrive on the island withing a few hours of each other, nm lands first, relitivly unharmed, just a few nicks and scratches, but he has some food with him, just some bread and berries, and fresh water to last a good while. The mtt then wash up on quick succession, Horror first, unconscious and extremely wounded ,Nightmare doesnt know what to do, and mostly just tries to stop the bleedlng as best as he can with his clothing, until Dust washed up. He's also unconscious, and almost drowned, but when he's resuscitated by nm, he immediately helps horror, as dust was a medic in training, horror stays unconscious for a few days, but is mostly okay in the end, minus some memory problems, due to dusts help. Killer shows up about 20 minutes after dust wakes up, he's awake, but cut up pretty badly, but not in fear of death, but he has weapons, several knives, and axes on his shipwreck, dusst helps patch him up too, and then a few hours later, cross shows up. He has a bag of supplies, of water and rope, but most importantly, he knew fire magic. Together, they had enough supplies to survive, and become very close along the

[pinkberrytea]

OC Interaction

Omg, tysm for the tag @kalmiaphlox! This is such a fun tag for testing my character building muscles 💖🙌

My OC

Mavka is a Bhaalspawn, product of a foul ritual wherein borrowing the power of the archdevil Mephistopheles to sire a creature born from his own gore, the evil god would crush a fey creature, from whose bones and innards mixed with his blood, a child would come to be—a child born from murder. She was not Bhaal’s first solo venture, although her older Dragonborn sibling bore a purer lineage, for Bhaal was able to conceive him with no external aid. The sole purpose of her existence was to be bred by her brother, and thus, it was decided that she would be raised by a mortal family until her coming of age—that is, until she first bled. Left on the doorstep of a human patriar known for his feverish adoration of Tyr, one of Bhaal’s enemies, she was taken in by him for he saw in her an opportunity to cleanse the rot, raising a devilish child into a devout woman. As she matured into a young girl, however, his obsession with her grew, and with it, the resentment of her foster mother and sisters. Physically and mentally abused on a daily basis, completely isolated and with not a single friend to call her own, she was primed for the Urge; the moment she gave up on living was the moment when her true father would convince her to give herself to him. And thus, on the day of her 13th birthday, with the blood of her menarch running down her thighs, Bhaal would use her as a flesh puppet to take the lives of all members of her foster family as she helplessly watched, a pitiful passenger inside her own body.

Personality-wise, she is quiet and soft-spoken, a little gloomy, but gentle and kind. Her past molded her into a needy, clingy individual, who is willing to submit to others in whatever way to quench her thirst for kinship; self-loathing to a fault, she voluntarily waives control to anyone who will ask, for she trusts herself not with anything. She is constantly scared of being left behind, and thus, will do anything she can to please those around her, her pathetic desperation often translating into selfishness. There is, however, a silly, girlish side to her, and she enjoys bantering with her friends and making them smile. She loves animals and children, although her sometimes worrying naïveté does make her an easy target for the likes of Mol. Also, when it comes to domestic tasks, her skills are appalling, but no one with a heart would ever tell her that as she sweetly bats her eyelashes at them while offering a plate of the most vile thing you can think of.

Your OC

Kalmia is a half bronze dragon, though on a casual level, a person would never know what she is as she just looks to be a regular elf - albeit a bit tall. She is much, much older than she appears, having been walking the material plane for a little over 1200 years. In friendly company, she is polite, well-mannered and easily capable of matching the tone with whom she is conversing with. There isn't much that can ruffle her feathers (scales), but just know, it's not easy to outrun an angry dragon.

She can no longer read or write due to an unbreakable curse, and randomly she will be struck down with intense bouts of sickness that leave her completely unable to fend for herself. Kalmia's skin is marred by black scarring that she very carefully hides with illusion magic, only a few (Astarion, Dame Aylin and Kalmia's mother) have seen her completely bare. She's no stranger to bloodshed, and sometimes even relishes the chance to spill it, but if she could, most of Kalmia's time would be spent trying different kinds of foods or just watching Astarion embroider clothes.

I believe Mav and Kalmia would get along very well; Kalmia’s politeness and her willingness to match Mav’s quiet disposition would mean their interactions would be mostly uneventful. Mav wouldn’t feel as intimidated as she would in the presence of a more spirited individual, although as with her every relationship, there would always be the danger of her getting a little too attached and making Kalmia uncomfortable. Also, she would try to feed Kalmia some of her unspeakable handmade horrors, and that could definitely result in conflict! However, Mav would be very understanding of Kalmia’s afflictions, and as she doesn’t tend to pry nor judge, I believe Kalmia would be mostly receptive to her offer of sympathy.

I’m tagging @locallegume, @bardic-inspo, @starryjuicebox, @zekeen, @inkymoonbunny, @bananasfosterparent, and anyone else who wishes to do this! No pressure if not ✨

[androgynousblackbox]

How To Lose A Lucifer In 10 Days. 9 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

Step 9: Work with him

Alastor and Lucifer looked up the sky scrapper. For this outing Alastor once again was without his illusion spell, while Lucifer had been convinced to shapeshift as a imp with white hair brushed back. His comment that literally no one was going to care if the king just walked around in the sidewalk of the Pride ring fell into deaf ears. When Charlie came to support her dad's word, Lucifer already knew he was left without a choice, even if he still thought it was silly.

He was never going to say it out loud, because he imagined the response, but a part of him was starting to suspect the changing his looks when they outside of the hotel was more for the comfort of Alastor than trying to keep any privacy surrounding the king's activities. A rest from having the face of his husband standing right in front of them, fully aware that the devil who wore it wasn't the same. It's not like he haven't noticed that something in Alastor losen up more when he did, only to tense up again the moment he was back to normal. But if the man himself wasn't going to say anything, then much less he was going to do it.

Instead, he checked again on his phone that the coordinates that Vassago wrote for them were correct. They still were.

"Any reaction?" asked to Alastor, who was wearing the stone around his neck.

Charlie had decided she wanted to help Emily with her own research, leaving the two of them for this one mission. Apparently Emily had found a pair of names of sinners that could know about alchemy, which prompted Charlie to want to go with her and then motivated Vaggie to want to join them. Someone had to be sure that between the two princess, they weren't going to be taken advantage of while making some questions.

Alastor flicked the stone on top of his chest. The white stone moved against the fabric of his black shirt without pointing to anywhere.

"Nothing. It must be all the way to the top" Alastor put his hands behind his back and turned to him. "Can I borrow your telephonic device?" asked in a lower voice, as if not wanting anyone else to hear them.

Lucifer stared at him as if that wasn't Alastor anymore.

"You, with a phone?" asked, as if those words were not supposed to mix. "Why? Do you even know how to use one?"

"I want to talk with the queen of Sloth directly" said Alaster, not answering the last question or looking in his direction. "I know she said to have you as intermediary, but I prefer taking my chances with that blasted thing for some actual patient-doctor confidentialty, if you don't mind."

That was an entirely valid point he haven't thought about at all. Of course Alastor wasn't going to want to involve him on everything when he could do it himself. Obviously. He was just the guy who happened to be around with magic similar to the father.

"Now though?" asked.

"It would put my mind at ease if I have to use my magic here" commented Alastor, observing the tall building again. It was one of the closest ones there were to touch the pentagram in the sky. People were constantly getting in and out, wearing business suits or casual clothing since they came out from the food or shopping areas. "I won't take long" added, throwing a glance to Lucifer.

It was after all, a consultation with his own doctor. Of course he couldn't say no.

"Fine" He sighed, opening up the screen to look Bel's number. Alastor approached him more as if trying to memorize the right gestures for the screen. Lucifer really had to bite his tongue in to not make some old boomer joke at that moment, even though Alastor probably deserved it. It was his fault for locking himself out from meeting modern technology. "Is calling now" said Lucifer, reaching out his hand for Alastor to take out. "When you finish the call, press the button on the side for two seconds. It's literally the only button."

"I see" Alastor grabbed the device between two fingers of his hand from the top, as it were a dirty diaper or something equally as desirable.

Lucifer still reminded himself to not laugh when the radio demon nodded, moving away to a safe distance until he could talk without Lucifer or anyone else immediately around him hearing. Lucifer almost expected him to be yelling into the mic, believing it necessary, was almost counting on it, but he had no luck.

Instead of that mild distraction, he had finally a moment to contemplate what they had to do. Grab the bigger portion of the stone in whichever part it was of this massive building, use it to exchange places with the other Lucifer and come back to his usual life. To another Alastor who also didn't want to see him either and a Charlie he didn't know how to talk to most of the time. To another day seeing the same family portraits knowing those times were long gone. Where all his mistakes and regrets could jump to him on every corner to remind him how badly he had messed up and probably was going to keep messing up. Where his best hope for the future was that Charlie was not going to get tired of him any time soon and would still allow him to be near her. Where the only company he would have at night was his phone.

No biggie. Easy as pie. Practically done already. Why even think about it? Why even rationalize all the ways he was surely going to fail and get himself further stuck on a reality where he was merely a guest, one nobody really asked for, while someone else was getting missed? Surely that was a stupid thing to think about. He was a stupid man for thinking that. The most stupid man that has ever existed since creation itself, no doubt about it. Why couldn't he stop thinking about it? Who was this helping? Why bother to come back at all when he was that useless he couldn't stop a single stupid thought? It's not like an actual real baby depended on it or anything!

"Your Majesty" called Alastor, towering over him. Lucifer blinked many times as he came back to. Alastor's brow furrowed as he extended his phone to him, still holding it with two fingers as if he didn't want to be in contact with it more than necessary. "Your device."

Lucifer realized how tense hid fist were only when he had to force to relax again in order to grab it. The small cuts from his claws digging in he willed to heal faster, so not even a drop of blood could be seen.

"Ah, thanks" said, even though he was the one who did the favor. He smiled mechanically, a well oiled machine that never failed him. "Done already then? Did Bel help you out?"

Alastor looked at him a second longer he felt comfortable with before answering.

"Indeed. She taught me a little spell to know how much magic I would need and how much is enough, since I can't see it myself. Also, apparently alcohol is not going to have any negative effect on them unless I hurt myself, which of course won't happen, so that is a relief."

"Were you planning to get drunk?" asked Lucifer and Alastor smiled, amused.

As if he were stupid for making that question. He probably was. That would be the first concern of any adult in hell dealing with their partner gone. On top of that, who was he to judge? Just because he couldn't get drunk as easily, didn't mean other people were not allowed to do it. Idiot.

"Oh, of course not. For what kind of irresponsible father have you took me?" Alastor dismissed the suggestion like a bad smell with his hand. Lucifer saw the irritated rictus on the corners of his mouth. "I was just wondering out of curiosity, since my condition is not entirely physical anyway, that is all."

"Well, if Bel says it won't hurt the baby…" started out Lucifer before his mind trail off and didn't know how to complete the sentence. Luckily there was something else to catch his attention and cover up for his sudden silence. "Hey, that is Angel."

So he was. Alastor lifted his head just as about the spider demon stared at him back, walking up to them. He had only seen the fallen look of Alastor exactly one time, when Niffty insisted on seeing his new "bad boy" look, so it wasn't weird that it took him a while to fully remember it.

"Alastor?" asked, coming up to them and then looked at the imp at his side, narrowing his eyes. "Short king?"

"Yeah, how did you know?" Maybe he too had a gifted sigh like Bel that could just tell that kind of thing.

"Same height and Alastor being here, that is all I need. Not the first time that the king shapeshifted to be outside" Angel popped a lollipop into his mouth and turned to see the huge building. "Are you both going there? Not the kind of place I would have imagined for one of your little dates."

"It's not a date" said Alastor finally, glaring at him with a menacing undertone in his word that had Angel lifting his hands.

"I was just joking, bud. Take it easy."

A growl came out of the smiling face of Alastor and Lucifer cleared his throat, before anyone could say or do something they could regret.

"It's really not" said, putting himself between the two of them. "We are trying to find another one of the wishing stones that Charlie had. I imagine you haven't seen any big dark rock with reality changing properties around here?"

"Nope" Angel looked up for a moment at the building. "I work here and haven't seen anything like that."

"Y-you do?" asked Lucifer, first thinking on any of the shopping sites or the food section. No way he could imagine Angel just working on any of them, especially not with the almost non existent clothing he was wearing.

"Yeah, my sugar daddy is on the top of the top" Angel said with a smirk, as if deeply enjoying pronouncing those words. "He is kinda like a big deal without even being an overlord. He even said he could help me make my own porns soon! I will never stop thanking Charlie for getting me this gig."

"Wasteful" spat Alastor between his teeth.

"Hey, I didn't ask for it either" replied Angel, holding the lollipop to point at him. "If you have a problem, take it up with your own kid, pops."

"Enough" said Lucifer, tired, just when Alastor opened up his mouth to say something else. The radio demon frowned, revealing more teeth. If this was just a fraction of what Charlie had to endure watching him and the other Alastor back at home then no wonder she wished something different. "Angel, do you think you could help us get inside? We don't really know where the stone is either."

"We don't need him. We can just turn invisible and I can send my shadow looking" said Alastor.

"And just walk all of that until our stone reacts to anything?" said Lucifer, making a gesture to the building that wasn't only big but taller than his entire palace. The palace where his own Charlie got lost in more than one ocassion. "We only have one. I don't know, maybe it would be easier to ask the guy out there if he knows about it? If he does I can just convince him of giving it to us."

Alastor groaned deeply. He took out the chain around his neck with the stone and extended to Lucifer, waiting for him to grab it.

"It sounds to me like we have two different ideas of how to approach this. You can take the stone and try your diplomatic method if you want. I will check as much as I can on my own. We can find each other in… two hours sounds good for you?" said, taking a look to his pocket watch.

"Are you sure?" said Lucifer, unintentionally letting his eyes wonder over the abdomen of the fallen before Alastor reclined his front forward, even lower than he actually needed to for them to be at face level.

"Two hours" determined, walking calmly to a column in front of the building.

Only Lucifer realized that he wasn't coming out on the other side and noticed the dark spot quickly moving over the floor until it dissapeared. He felt like a kid abandoned in the supermarket after his whole family already move on. Maybe that was to be expected from a mere acquantance that only tolerated his presence.

"So what is going to be, short king?" said Angel, texting casually on his phone. "I am already late, but luckily for us, he likes it better when I take my time so there is no rush. If you want to follow him, I won't take offense."

Lucifer saw the accesory on his hand and wrapped the chain around his knuckles, to make sure he wouldn't lose it as he felt for any movement from the stone.

"Let's go" he sighed, walking foward as Angel went behind.

"What is the story then?" said Angel, getting a cheeky grin now as if suddenly this could be a fun game for him. "I am telling you right now, if I just say you are a friend of mine he will think I am inviting you for a threesome. If you are willing to go that far, I won't tell a word."

The shadow under Lucifer shook slightly, as if about to lose its shape, but the king only gave Angel a side eye.

"No, thank you" said with a sigh. "Maybe tell him that I am coming from an investor who wants to buy the stone from him?"

"Boring" sang Angel rolling his eyes. "Oooh, how about a investor in one of my porn that wants to make business for that?"

"How is that going to make him show me his stone?"

"I don't know, you are the one doing the sneaky shit, not me" Angel was going up the stairs and walking over to a desk of the security staff, reclining over it to smile at the demon sitting there. "Hey, cutie, how you doing?"

The security guard smiled back.

"Angel" greeted. He only ever noticed Lucifer standing right in front of him a second later, instantly annoyed at the possibility of having to do his job. "Yes, sir?"

"He is coming with me, handsome" helped out Angel. The face of the guard light up when looking at him. Angel clearly already had him wrapped around his finger. "He is a big money guy who wants to talk with the old man for business. A friend of mine so I can vouch for his big, long and deep pockets" listed, licking up his lips. "Can you tell him that, baby?"

Lucifer pretended to be interested on a potted plant nearby, like the whole conversation didn't had anything to do with him.

"Sure, Angel, if you say so" The demon grabbed a telephone on the wall to make his call. Angel winked an eye to Lucifer. Now he really wished he had shapeshifted a suit to make himself look more legit instead of the casual clothing he had on. A perfectly normal imp that could enter into a majority of sites without any issue, but didn't gave the impression of being business dedicated. Too late to worry about that. They probably should have thought about it more in general before just coming inside. "Alright, he says you can come up."

"Thanks, sweetheart" Angel send a kiss to the security as he took out a card from his purse, swipping it on a panel close by to open the door to an elevator. Lucifer slipped in inside and supported his back on the wall. "You good?" asked Angel as he was pressing a button to have the doors closed.

There was no turning back now. This was the plan they were going to go with. If Alastor didn't had any luck finding the stone, it all depended on him. What a reassuring and not at all heavy thought that didn't quicken his heart at all. Nope, not to this king of hell. He had caused sin to happen, no doubt he was going to be able to handle finding just a stupid piece of rock and not ruin anything on the way, right? Right?

"Yeah, perfectly" said Lucifer when he noticed he haven't answer to Angel in a bit. "Sorry, I just zone out."

Angel hummed, crossing his upper arms while the lower ones sat on his waist, tapping casually on his short shorts.

"It must be still quite a shock for you, isn't?" commented, just as the elevator started moving. "The whole being married to a guy you can't stand where you come from" clarified when Lucifer just looked confused. "Me? I would have ran away so I don't have to deal with any of that."

"Kinda not an option here" said Lucifer shrugging. He hold out the stone out, letting it swing from the chain on his hand, but it was a rather to be expected kind of swing. "I can't just leave Charlie, either this one or mine back at home."

"I guess on that sense all Lucifers are the same" Angel pulled out a hand mirror and started retouching his make up. "You a good daddy no matter where you go, aren't you?"

Lucifer realized that Angel probably didn't mean anything with it. Just a little bit of small conversation so they wouldn't be listening the bland music through the speakers only. But somehow the comment stabbed him right on the front and made him thinks of the months, years, he was doing anything else instead of being a good father.

"You know, it is funny" added, swallowing hard. "In my dimension we have this stupid thing with Alastor where he pretend he is a father figure for Charlie. Just because he helps her out with the hotel and stuff, which okay, buddy, that is cute and all, but not really the same. I don't think Charlie takes it seriously either, but it's what he likes to do to get on my nerves. So of course I would land in the one place where he can actually be her father with all rights. On top of being still also Alastor."

"Oh" When Lucifer looked up, Angel seemed to be out of his depth. "I was actually trying to get a segway into joking if you could adopt me."

"Aren't you kinda old for that?" was all Lucifer could say to avoid the embarassment. Even then, he could feel his face warming up.

"Miss Sunshine fallen from Heaven is thousands years older than Alastor and that didn't stopped any of you" Angel closed his pocket mirror. "No offense, king, but I still don't get why that should bother you so much? If some bitch was obviously trying to pretend they got my place I would just feel embarassed for them. If your Charlie is anything like ours, then she is totally a daddy's girl anyway."

"Yeah, she is!" laughed Lucifer. "Absolutely! That is why he is so annoying. Because he doesn't realize what a waste of time it is trying to pretend she has another father when she has me" added, laughing more, louder, because that was obviously the case and it wasn't Alastor poking him on the one and only place where he could reach, the one area he felt ashamed about the most.

The whole falling and condeming humanity had happened long enough that he had just accepted his part on it. It wasn't something he was proud about on itself, but it was the blistering wound that still made him flinch when thinking about it. A considerable scar had already formed on top of it. But Charlie and the realization of how out of touch he was with her life were quite new and it didn't take long to have them bleed again.

Case in point, the expression of Angel that said he didn't believe a single word he said and who did he thought he was kidding. A question that Lucifer most of all did not want to ponder about when he could barely kid himself.

"Whatever you say, king" said finally Angel with a shrug. The spider demon turned his head and chuckled to himself. "It's kinda funny, I guess. On this universe the king and Al also fight a lot."

"T-they do?" asked Lucifer, surprised.

"Yeah, all the time. Although to them it looks more typical old married couple bickering, but it's still there. Like on the whole doing two parties for Charlie with two different cakes" Lucifer blinked, confused. He knew that the Charlie with antlers had a good party thanks to her parents, but nobody had explained to him how exactly. "Oh, you didn't know? It's a whole thing apparently. They each decorate their own side and stuff however they like and then compete to see which one is more succesful. Charlie said that they used to fight a lot about that before finding that solution. I think that is stupid, but, you know, it's two cakes for one party so who I am to complain?"

With how willing this Alastor was to sing the praises of his own Lucifer, especially compared to him, Lucifer had just assumed those two lived in a perpetual honeymoon where somehow they were always on the same page and were completely removed from anything to do with what he had back on his world.

It was almost embarassing how relieved he felt at finding out it wasn't the case. There were traces of each other still present. Maybe the real difference after all was these two had plenty of time to learn to adapt to the bump, when all they could do on his world was keep crashing with them. Time does heal all or so they say.

"Oh, I had no idea" commented, twisting the chain on his hand. The stone still had nothing to tell him.

Angel snorted.

"Of course not. Good old Al fucking hates your guts" Angel rolled around the lollipop in his mouth as a smile spread on his face. "Before you came around he was the first one to complain about hubby, but the moment you walk nearby suddenly our Lucifer hasn't done a single thing wrong in his life. It's hilarious actually."

"Ah" That made way too much sense.

"It kinda sucks for Charlie, though" commented Angel. "It can't be pretty to have your folks get along and one day they just don't. Plus the whole interdimensional bullshit, that is."

Lucifer didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't have to before the elevator stopped and the doors opened up to a luxurious space.

"Come on, king. Let's go to daddy" Angel pulled up his crop top and fluffled up his chest even more before coming out, Lucifer from behind and his shadow a second later than it should.

Just talk to the guy about the stone. Convince him to give it. Recieve. Null the wish, go back home. A nice, easy to follow plan. Fool proof and all. On the absolute worst case escenario, steal it and just from a window to portal home, hoping that Alastor would know to come back on his own.

Wait, no. First steal it, then look Alastor's magic and portal him away. Unless he could convince the guy to give it on his own. Then turn invisible to find Alastor and portal him away. Or should he make the wish first? But then how his Lucifer was going to know what to do if he came back? No, better to wish it on the hotel, far away from them and hope it didn't affect Angel's job so nobody would have to wish anything for anyone again.

Yes, a perfect plan. Not complicated at all. The tightness on his throat was just the nerves for the future success. His palms were sweaty because it was a especially hot day in hell.

By the time they reached the big office on the far end of a corridor, a lizard demon was talking on the phone against the all window wall that revealed the whole from above. Only the V tower was the building able to reach a similar weight from that angle.

"Just do what you have to do, don't bother me" was the last words they could heard before the man put the phone down and smiled, full row of golden teeth on display. "Angel, baby, there you are! An hour after I was expecting you, but thanks for coming along anyway."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever" said Angel, dragging his words more than he usually did as he casually walked to a lounging couch and laid there. His face masquered such contempt for the lizard guy he seemed one step from spit on his face. Something that would probably be received positively anyway. "I had better things to do than to see your ugly ass face. My friend over there for example."

"Oh?" The lizard only then noticed Lucifer standing at the door. "Yeah, I think they did mentioned that. You wanted to talk about business?"

Lucifer swallowed and inhaled deeply. It was time to give a convincing performance. The moment he stepped inside, his shadow shook for a moment before returning to normal. Less darker and bigger than before.

"Absolutely, sir" said, reading quickly the plaque on top of the desk before reaching out his hand to shake the scaly one. Normakov, better not forget it. "I come from part of a very afluent man who wishes to purchase something our data shows you were in possesion of."

"And what man that would be?"

"The king" said Lucifer, keeping up his smile. "He is not unable at the moment, but you can call to the princess of hell and she will confirm for you I work for her father."

"He is legit, daddy" said Angel from his couch, barely lifting his eyes from the screen. "Don't make him waste too much time. That is so annoying. I won't have time to play with you and put you in your place if you do."

When the lizard smiled indulgently, Lucifer let out a small sigh of relief.

"No problem, sweetie. If my Angel says that, I have no reason to doubt him. Why don't you take a seat, sir…?"

"Oh, my name is irrelevant" said Lucifer, sitting on the chair offered. "But you can call me De Ville if anything. You see, my client is a history fanatic. When you are so old and lived for so long, the nostalgia is hard to avoid, you know? Which is the reason why he is interested on…"

The phone of the lizard man started to vibrate again against the table. Normakov made a wait a moment gesture with his hand and took the call.

"Yes, perfect. Send them in then" said, hanging out but then turning to Angel. "Someone is messing with the cameras on the lowers floors. A bunch of them have been fried and lose signal. Have you seen anything weird on your way up, sweet cheeks?"

"Nothing at all" said Angel, throwing a glance to Lucifer so they both knew what they were thinking. Alastor trying to not get detected. "Can't be a short circut or something? There is so much energy being used on this place everyday that I wouldn't be surprised."

"Yeah, that happens even in the palace too sometimes" aported Lucifer. "Too many electronics working at once? You can't trust those to work perfectly all the time."

"No, that is not it. We installed those new models just yesterday and they were working perfectly. Besides now they will send their own guards from Voxtech the moment one malfunction. It would be a waste of their own resources if they don't make it work for at least a while" Normakov sat on his chair, the wrinckles on his face expanding. "So, what is that the king is interested on buying?"

"Excuse me, sir" said Lucifer, struggling to get his mind in track again. "Are they sending guards just for cameras? That is a bit excessive, isn't?"

"Well, maybe, but that is what we paid for! The full protection package! It costed a good penny, but if we can avoid any bastard trying to get in and cause trouble then that is good enough for me. They have full permission to be lethal if they want, even if it's one of our own employees. I can't be wasting time on some idiot that is going to be ruining the equipment of the building anyway. If they die I don't have to fire them at least" laughed the man and Lucifer joined a second too late, squeezing the rim of his shirt so strong that he end up tearing it and then forced his finger to grab his thigh, feeling his claws about to punctuare. Normakov was admiring Angel too much to fully notice.

"That is so true!" said Lucifer, laughing hysterically as he looked at Angel to do anything, anything at all. His heart was beating so quick that he had to see it through his ribcage, about to burst. "You can't be wasting all that money like that!"

Angel didn't turn to see him at all. He missed his pleading look and with all, he stood up from the couch to go sit on the lap of the business man.

"Oh, daddy! I can't wait any longer! I have been so bored and someone has to take some responsability!" sighed dramatically, putting on the tie of the man to kiss him deeply as his upper arms hold him in place.

The lower arms made quick gestures for Lucifer to move on already. Lucifer sighed grateful and looked down for a second. That stone was as unresponsive as ever, there was nothing there for him. While Angel moaned loudly against the mouth of his boss, Lucifer ran away the office and hide himself on the first bathroom he could find.

It was just as full of luxury as anything else on that place, but he couldn't care less. With his eyes turned into pure red, he looked over as much as he could for the exact magic that only Alastor had. It was at first overwhelming with the amount of people who worked in the building, janitors cleaning, people wasting away in front of computers, secretaries, people making calls. After a while he realized he couldn't concentrate like that. Too many distractions and wasn't any closer to find him. How many fucking floors did a building like that needed in the first place? And why all of them have to be so fucking big?

Lucifer hold the stone against his chest, trying to control the dizzines that was making it even harder to search for him. He took at least a couple of deep breaths before he decided to just look floor for floor. That was the best choice. Opening portal, keep invisible, find Alastor, maybe retrait, try again other time, not get him get killed because Charlie was going to kill him, and his other version too if he had the chance and he was never going to be able to live with himself if anything happened to that baby.

With his legs shaking, Lucifer applied the invisible spell and started descending. From the bottom to the top above the shopping floors, where the cameras started malfunctioning. The first three were clean of green magic. On the fifth he always crashed into one of the security guards with the logos of Voxtech on their jackets.

They had already shot the technician of the company that reached for the cameras. Lucifer nearly avoided the employees that were getting rid of the body. It was a bird demon with red feathers on the top of their head, sticking out almost as if they were ears. Red eyes stared at the ceiling as the wound shot on his forehead was still bleeding.

That was what did it. Lucifer ran without caring the people he had to make to a side, left wondering what happened or blaming whoever was the closest that they could see. He wanted a bathroom. Instead he found an abandoned office and managed to find a trash can before his stomach gave out. He grabbed to it a moment longer and put it aside, hugging to his knees.

The image of those red empty eyes were not leaving his vision no matter how strong he pressed his hand against his eyelids. He could no longer control his breathing. All he could hear was the beating of his heart. He hold the stone against his chest as if that somehow was going to help, but it didn't. A failure like everything else he ever attempted to do.

It was to be expected, then, that he didn't hear the door opening to a normal employee of the company. The lights turn on and Lucifer looked up without barely moving.

"What the hell are you doing?" was all the demon could ask before Lulcifer saw himself wrapped in pure darkness.

On the first second he didn't even mind. The darkness was silent and light as air. But the calm lasted as long his next breath and he was on a janitor's closet, holding to the first thing of color he could see. A grey shirt.

"Your Majesty" a grey demon, no, Alastor, spoke to him on a voice softer than he ever expected before. "Follow my lead, sir. Breath in, breath out. Slowly, there is no rush here."

Lucifer saw the chest of the demon in front rising up and then deflating and then he tried to imitate with his own, retaining the air and letting it go after.

"Good" said Alastor, who hasn't moved at all except for breathing. "Keep going, your Highness. Breath in, breath out."

Slowly, somehow, his heart started to normalize and he sighed, his body slumped on the floor as Alastor patiently waited for him to uncling his claws off his clothing. That couldn't be a comfortable position, thought Lucifer vaguely before he could finally make his hands relax enough to open them up.

At no point he had ever dared to look up to the demon and now he wasn't going to do it either. The Alastor he knew was about to have the biggest laugh of his afterlife to find out another weakness of the king of hell, another reason to mark him as the pathetic and weak fool that he always was. Lucifer couldn't even find it on him to be upset about it, just brazing himself for the blow to whatever was left of his dignity.

Alastor sat on the floor, knees up and legs together. There was no much space for more with how tall he was.

"Do you feel better now?"

Lucifer blinked like he somehow he had heard wrong and stared at him. The smile was there, alright, that was a given, but why wasn't he laughing? Where was the mockery and contempt?

"You seem okay at least" Alastor sighed and his actual green eyes looked the crampled space, as if annoyed with it, even though he was the one who brought them. "I assume the diplomatic way didn't work?"

"Uh…" Lucifer passed a hand over his face and pulled his hair back. "I don't… I don't understand."

"What?" Alastor asked, turning to him. Something on his sincere confusion made him chuckle. "You think you are the first king I see having a panic attack, your Majesty? My darling king sometimes worries a bit too much about things and what is his consort to do, but to know to calm him down? We can't have any advances if I have you incapacitated on the floor, can I?"

"He too…?" asked Lucifer.

For some reason it made more sense for him to think the Lucifer of this world had been saved from those moments, gaining the rare gift of not being attacked by his own mind and body. More than anything, because he would have never imagined that Alastor was going to have any kind of useful reaction to them. The Alastor he knew would make it so much worse just for fun, just because he could.

"Well, no all the time, obviously" said Alastor, as if that needed clarifying. "Mostly in moment of great stress. Before an extermination or when fearing that Heaven could do something that could hurt our daughter" Alastor looked down for a moment, tilting his head. "I guess I never considered you could be as much of a mess as my husband in this situation too."

"Gee, thanks" Lucifer sighed, sitting cross legged.

"You are welcome" Alastor chuckled again, a light and judgement free sound, that Lucifer couldn't help but to join in.

"Hey, what else…" Lucifer swallowed down, doubting if he should continue, but he really wanted to know "What else do you usually do to calm him down?"

"He likes it when I hug him" Alastor said it like it was no big deal, and for him it most likely wasn't, but Lucifer couldn't get that thought of his mind. A hug sounded nice for him too, although maybe that was beyond what Alastor would be comfortable with. "At the start, it made no sense to me that the most powerful being of hell can lose his calm like that. Then I realized that other men would have broken under the pressure he's under millennia ago. His cracks are just a testament of how much he has endured and how further he can go. My king just needs a little bit of support somtimes and he will stand on his own in no time. I don't mind being that support."

Alastor examined his pocket watch, letting the silence to be the only thing between them as Lucifer processed those words. The fact that they were coming from him or how comforting they actually were, both of them equally unexpected.

"Oh shit" said, surprised with himself that it took him this long to realize. "You actually do love him, do you?"

A sound of static cracked inside of the demon as he stared at him, taken aback.

"Beg your pardon?" asked, crinkling his eyes. "Was that ever a question here?"

"Kinda" confessed Lucifer, shrinking a little. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like an insult. I guess I just didn't thought about it."

"What is there to think about?" Alastor shrugged. He made a vague gesture to their surroundings, the crampled janitor's closet they landed on. "Why did you think I was doing all of this for?"

That was a good question that Lucifer had no idea what to say to. He could try again with his past theories. Money, power, influence, authority. But they all sounded just childish and ridiculous now.

"I don't know" admitted finally, letting his shoulders fall. "Sorry."

Alastor sighed, but at least it wasn't the annoyed and frustrated kind he was used to coming from him. Just a resigned one as he rubbed his temple.

"Tell me when you are able to continue searching" said the radio demon, relying his back against the shelf full of cleaning supplies.

"I was… worried about you" commented Lucifer, without looking at him. "We shouldn't have separated."

"Your Majesty…" started Alastor and then seemed to think it better for a moment. "Maybe you're right. This place is even more complicated that I imagined. There are even secret rooms and passages behind the walls."

Not in a million years he would have imagined hearing those words coming from him.

"I am right" insisted Lucifer, frowning at him. "I know you hate me, but we really need to do this together. I want to get that thing as much as you do."

"Unlikely" replied Alastor, tilting his chin. He narrowed his eyes before continueing. "Just so you know, I don't… hate you. I almost want to, but I don't."

"You want to hate me?" Lucifer snorted a little bit. Now who was being childish.

"Didn't you?" Alastor stared at him with a half hearted snear. "From the very first time you saw me, you only wanted to see me one way because of your own Alastor."

Lucifer rised up a finger to protest. Then turned it down. Damn it.

"Fine" conceded with a pout. "I was wrong about that then. You are really not like him, I guess."

"Or you just don't know him as much as you think" Alastor rolled his eyes and shook his head slighty. "But who knows, really? I am just the Alastor of this side."

It wasn't the first time that Alastor suggested that. It was the first time that Lucifer actually considered it. Not that Alastor back at home ever bothered to show him anything more than his more annoying, petty side whenever possible or was ever going to do it. Maybe there was something else to the radio demon that he was just not meant to know at all.

"Whatever" said, because he had no idea where he wanted to go with that line of thought anyway. His head hurt. "I think I am better now."

"Are you sure?"

Lucifer nodded. He hide a little smile to think he was used to ask that to his Lucifer. Alastor stand up first and stretched his arms up, while Lucifer pushed himself up.

"This floor is clean" commented Alastor. "The next three ones as well. After that we can continue."

"Yeah, okay, we could do that or…" started Lucifer. Alastor blinked at him before the prediction came to him and groaned in advance. "Come on, let's try it at least!"

"I thought you did already and didn't work."

"Because I heard about guards with permission to use lethal force and I had to find you before I could actually do any progress" insisted Lucifer. "All because you messed with their cameras by the way!"

"Is that why they were there?" Alastor's brow furrowed. "I see. Vox is finally catching up."

"The TV guy? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Nothing. Just another issue I will have to deal with later" Alastor made a dismissive handwave and sighed. "Alright. I suppose it can't hurt to try. There is only so many secret love making rooms a man can see before he rather not."

Lucifer snorted at that. The thought of Alastor constantly ending up on those spaces in search of something else was so funny he had to laugh harder, positively wheezing. Alastor scoffed, but let him have that moment.

"Some were in use" added Alastor, just when Lucifer was about to calm down. Effectively creating another fit of giggles. The radio demon smirked, seemingly enjoying making him lose his composure. "It's a true miracle I haven't gauged my eyes out."

"How the fuck have you survived hell until now?" questioned Lucifer when he could barely gather enough air for it.

"The true question is how hell has survived me" said Alastor with a firm nod, pretending it was a serious matter. "And the answer is, with enough food and music."

"I will take your word for it, buddy" Lucifer whipped the tears out of his eyes. The only times he had laughed since the whole mixed up happened have been talking to Alastor. What a weird little thought to have. He opened up a portal to the luxurious bathroom near the office, but didn't cross it immediately. "Hey" said at Alastor. An awkward moment of hestitation later, he managed: "Thanks. For the whole. Thing."

Alastor nodded. His smile didn't get bigger or sharper, but his eyes maybe got a bit more open or at least that is what Lucifer would like to believe. He didn't want to hate this Alastor and didn't want this Alastor to hate him.

"After yourself, your Majesty."

--

"Which is why I believe we can make a more than generous offer is necessary" finished Lucifer, sitting on the seat. His shadow now was darker than it should be and he knew the reason why. Alastor was just waiting for a chance to grab the stone so they could finally get out of there.

Lucifer was really surprised that the radio demon had actually decided to stay with him after all. When they came to the office and it was pretty obvious that Angel was doing his job under the desk, he wouldn't have blame him if he had stayed outside the office.

"That sounds neat, daddy" sounded the voice of Angel, only some strands of his pink hair visible against the vest of the man. "You should take it. A business deal with the king can only be a good thing, huh?"

"Y-yeah, that sounds about right" Normakov patted his head. For as much Lucifer would have chosen to not have this conversation, or any other, like this, he had to appreciate that at least it was making this old man very agreeable. He would have to thank Angel for that when he had the opportunity. "Very well, if you say so, sweetheart. You will have to wait a little bit for it, mister De Ville" Lucifer saw a glimpse of the shadow under his chair shaking and he just knew Alastor was going to make a comment about the name later. "That stone cost me, well, three entire bodies to be honest, not just an eye. I have to call for it to be brought up from my vault."

"Of course, I understand" smiled Lucifer, dropping the stone of Charlie on the floor without making a sound. It was quickly consumed by the shadows. "I don't have any rush. If it's the real deal then I promise that my client will be able to compensate you those three bodies and maybe a whole dozen more. He is very enthusiastic about starting this collection. They were made using the soil where he first fell, did you know?" commented.

"Yeah? Huh, I guess that makes sense" Normakov pressed a button on his phone. Whoever was on the other side of the line didn't seem to mind the slight grunting and sighs of their boss as he asked for that stone. "And do it pronto, alright? I might have a good deal for it."

"The greatest deal in all of hell, dear sir!" added Lucifer.

After the call was done, Alastor moved out of the way to go catch that thing while Lucifer stayed to make conversation with the man. Be it because it was part of Angel's conditions or Angel just wanted to torture him, Normakov never got his happy ending during all that time. Lucifer was starting to think maybe Alastor had a point after all.

Ten minutes later an alarm went off somewhere close them, extending to the office.

"What the fuck?" Normakov pulled his chair back, quickly fixing his belt and pants.

"What alarm is that, daddy? There is a fire?" asked Angel.

Before the man could respond, one of the secretaries came running.

"There is a demon let loose near the vault, sir! It has taken out already three of our guards!"

"Send the Voxtech ones then!" insisted Normakov, as if it should be obvious.

"They said that is above they paygrade, sir."

As the lizard man grumbled to himself, Lucifer stand up.

"I need to go pee again!" announced to the need of no one and ran outside.

People were either running to get away the building or complaining about how someone should turn off that alarm already. He went inside of the bathroom and blinked, looking for Alastor's energy. The energy was crickling and soaring just five floors below. When he open up a portal there, he knew instantly what happened.

"Oh" said, seeing the splatters of blood everywhere before he heard the munching sound. "Alastor" called, not really wanting to cross the corner to the open vault, but knowing there was no choice.

Alastor, eating from the open stomach of a guard, cracked his neck to look at him with a infinite smile of sharp teeths.

"It's useless" said. The static was so strong it was almost burying his words, but not entirely. The anger behind then was still there, just as naked as the ribs of the guy he was eating from. One of his long arms grabbed a crystal box from a corner and shattered it against the wall. From it a white rock fell through, aproximately the size of an adult fist. "This one was the one who did it" Alastor now lifted out a half consumed head from the ground and smashed it, destroying it until it was a splat under his fingers. "The idiot was holding it when he made his wish. Do you know what he wished for, your Majesty? What was so important for this lousy creature to use it?"

"What?" asked Lucifer, knowing that anything he could have asked for, anything at all, was always going to leave Alastor like that.

"A sandwich" said Alastor and started laughing, the sound distorted and broken. The laugh track behind him sounded cursed, like the people in the audience were both crying in pain too. "He was hungry, sir. And that made me hungry too."

"I am sorry" Lucifer didn't know what else to say.

"It was pickles with cheese, your Majesty. They deserve to die a thousands times because of that. I will keep their voices repeating their torment for all eternity. If they had any family I will kill them too and tell them it was all because of a sandwich of pickles with cheese."

"Alright" Lucifer sighed, looking around and counting maybe five bodies in total. It was hard to tell, as desmembered as they were. Many already missing chunks with bite marks. Almost every portion of the place had been painted in red. "Listen, I… there is going to be other chances, okay? This was just the first one. We have a bunch of other options to go through. I am sure the next one will go better."

"Sir" said Alastor.

"Yes?" Lucifer was already imagining what was coming and he was entirely right.

"I am still hungry. Would you mind leaving this floor while I take my lunch? I won't use my magic. I won't need to."

"Sure. Yeah" said Lucifer, scratching the back of his neck. Maybe the whole eating now for two was making it worse for Alastor or he was just that pissed. Either way, he didn't really felt with any leg to stand and judge. He was frustrated too, fuck it. "I will make it so the Voxtech guards don't reach you, okay? Just… come find me when you are done."

Alastor stared at him for a moment. Maybe surprised that he just accept it so easily, Then he silently nodded as he opened up his mouth, unhinged his own jaw, and lifted the body he was already eating from to chump down the entire head.

--- If you liked my work, consider supporting me through kofi!

[kalmiaphlox]

OC Interaction

Thank you for the tag from @teamdilf here. I had to put my thinking hat on for this.

Your OC Iris Lavellan is a Dalish elven mage. She'd lived a nomadic life with her clan until she was sent to spy on the Conclave - effectively a banishment for her interests in strange, forbidden magic and her refusal to marry the keeper's son. Iris had never so much as spoken to a human before leaving her clan, and struggles when she finds herself the supposed "Herald of Andraste", keeping her distance from everyone in the growing organization, save Solas - at least until she meets Dorian Pavus, who is the first human she ever comes to trust. She's a short-tempered woman with a sharp tongue, fond of witty banter, terribly vain (Only Solas and Dorian are allowed to see her without her bright red lipstick), a vengeful streak, and a sense of optimism beyond what any would expect of her at first glance. To those who've earned her devotion, she's loyal and her love is passionate and undying, often to a fault. She's a romantic, and has mostly left the Dalish life she'd been born into, on account of her decision to remove her vallaslin and reject the stories told of the so-called elven gods, opting to settle down in Tevinter with Dorian, her closest friend, after disbanding the inquisition.

My OC Kalmia is a half bronze dragon, though on a casual level, a person would never know what she is as she just looks to be a regular elf - albeit a bit tall. She is much, much older than she appears, having been walking the material plane for a little over 1200 years. In friendly company, she is polite, well-mannered and easily capable of matching the tone with whom she is conversing with. There isn't much that can ruffle her feathers (scales), but just know, it's not easy to outrun an angry dragon. She can no longer read or write due to an unbreakable curse, and randomly she will be struck down with intense bouts of sickness that leave her completely unable to fend for herself. Kalmia's skin is marred by black scarring that she very carefully hides with illusion magic, only a few (Astarion, Dame Aylin and Kalmia's mother) have seen her completely bare. She's no stranger to bloodshed, and sometimes even relishes the chance to spill it, but if she could, most of Kalmia's time would be spent trying different kinds of foods or just watching Astarion embroider clothes.

Kalmia would greatly sympathize (not pity) with Iris' use of a magical arm. Fine motor detail is completely lost to her, and finding someone who knows - and is learning to move on with - that pain would make them kindred spirits.

I don't see a world in which they wouldn't get along, though Kalmia can be a little insensitive from years of hiding from people. She might say something that would offend Iris, but Kalmia is always eager to learn and grow when called out for being wrong.

And being as old as she is, any stories from different planes or realms that she hasn't been too will always be of great interest.

Tagging if you would like to play: @pinkberrytea, @locallegume, @bardic-inspo, and @dabbles-in-drabbles

[naquey]

The Homeless Boy and the Sitter

Character(s): Agatha Harkness, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Billy Maximoff, Tommy Maximoff, Lucas Mirar

Pairing(s): Agatha Harkness & Lucas Mirar, Agatha Harkness & Wanda Maximoff, Lucas Mirar & Billy Maximoff, Billy Maximoff & Tommy Maximoff, Vision & Lucas Mirar

Wherever there is power, Agatha Harkness may follow. For centuries, she has thrived off the power of other witches and is always on the move in search of more. So, when the witch sensed a greater power than she could imagine, the trail suddenly went cold. She followed it to New Jersey, where she found what appeared to be a quaint suburban town named Westview. It was such an odd name. But she could feel the power in the air. When she crossed the metaphorical threshold, she found the town was alive on the other side. It was as if she stepped into a television show. Her clothing and hair changed, and modern fashion was done away and changed for that more akin to the fifties. Although the change was startling, she couldn't deny she looked good. Agatha could get used to looking this fabulous.

All she needed to do was find the source of all that power. Perhaps she could convince the witch to hike the Road with her and steal that power. This sort of magic felt different; it was enticing. It was far more potent than anything she had come in contact with before, making her want it all the more. Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she sauntered around. The feeling of magic and power was absolutely everywhere. It wasn't like it was in one spot. Agatha doubted everyone in town was a witch, which seemed unlikely considering they had died in the Salem Witch Trials. She passed by a storefront, and a wave of sadness hit her, causing her to stop. The witch hadn't noticed it before, but a boy on the sidewalk with his knees pressed against his chest. She wanted to laugh, but he looked so pitiful. Then she looked around. The people in this town were acting odd.

Agatha peered at the teenager on the floor as though he were an ant under her foot, a mild inconvenience. She nudged him with her foot, half-expecting him to be dead already, but when he jolted awake, she jumped. Surprisingly, like everyone else, he looked like he came out of the fifties. Almost like he was affected by this magic as well.

"You, are you hungry?" She looked down her nose at him, hands on her hips. "I don't suppose a street rat like you gets much to eat."

"You're... Talking to me?" He looked around cautiously. "You can see me?"

"Of course I can! You're not a ghost!"

Perhaps if Agatha did a favor for this boy, he could tell her what was happening. It would be easy enough to manipulate him into doing her bidding if she provided him with a roof over his head and food on the table. She hesitated, holding her hand out to him. He stared at her incredulously.

"If you wait any longer, I'll rescind my offer." Agatha dropped her smile and perky demeanor. With that, he took her hand, and she helped him to his feet, brushing the dirt off of his clothes. "Say, you don't know what's happening around here, do you?"

"A couple moved in, I think... One moment, it was a demolished house, but the next, it was rebuilt. Like- "

"Like it was made from thin air?" She side-eyed him. He was scrawny for his age and relatively short, but for a minion, he would do.

"Yeah! Does this happen often?"

"Oh, heavens! Like I would know, kid. I hope you like lasagna."

It wasn't like it was hard to take over a random home. With a wave of her hand, she could get rid of the owner, and a freshly cooked lasagna was on the table. Maybe it was an illusion. Perhaps it was real. The teenager's eyes lit up, and he gave her a questioning look. Agatha rolled her eyes and gestured to the dining room table. The boy sat down and helped himself to the food; it looked like food. Until he took a bite, she had no idea if it was real. Agatha didn't know why she waited with bated breath.

"Tell me more about this couple that moved in," Agatha said, sitting in the chair next to him and putting her chin in her palm.

The boy practically shoveled the food into his mouth, which confirmed that it was, in fact, real and not an illusion. At the back of her mind, she was slightly relieved that she didn't accidentally feed him hot garbage. But she did away with that thought. She needed information out of him. He choked down the lasagna as if he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"I don't know, " he mumbled. I saw them when they first moved in and never saw them again."

Agatha didn't have to be smart to see this was a bust. The teenager didn't have any worthy intel. She eyed him cautiously. His perfectly quaffed hair and neatly pressed clothes. It made her skin crawl. A purple sparkle was in her hands, and energy spread like a shockwave throughout the house. The monotone color palette faded, and color began to bleed through the walls and furniture. The boy stopped eating and looked around, mesmerized. His fifties-themed outfit morphed as its actual color bled through the fabric.

"Now, tell me who you are."

His once blemish-free black-and-white face was scarred. A burn engulfed the left side of his jaw, just below his ear. Small scars ran across his face. His eyes were two different colors, green and blue. Agatha tensed. The teen was haggard and dirty, his appearance certainly fit for a street rat. His fair skin was filthy, and she grimaced. She wasn't sure of what to expect, but near death was not anything she had planned for. It touched a part of her that she locked away. Straightening out her clothes, she inhaled sharply.

"Are you a witch?"

"Name." She peered at him, much like a carnivorous predator.

"Luke."

"Luke?" Agatha parroted, and she laughed.

"What? What's so funny?"

"I was expecting something like Bartholomew. Luke is so... Basic."

"Okay? What's your name, then?"

"Oh, no." Agatha stood up and stepped away from the table. "You don't need to know my name,"

Luke squinted and observed her. An awkward silence blanketed the room. The lasagna on the table no longer looked appetizing. He pushed the chair out and stood up. Suddenly, something hit Agatha. She turned away from the table and held a hand to her heart. She couldn't tell why, but she was overcome with different emotions. It was a tidal wave. It was soul-crushing. Something squeezed her heart, and she froze. Was this his power? It didn't seem like she had anything tangible to take from him. Her demeanor shifted. Her gaze hardened, and she turned to him, hurt in her eyes, which were shrouded by hatred. Not entirely directed at him.

"I don't know who you are or what you want, but I cannot stand to look at you like this."

"Cool." Luke clapped his hands together and looked around. "Are you... Are you kicking me out?"

"As much as I'd like to, I have use for you."

"What? Are you going to put me to work or something?"

"More or less," Agatha shrugged and brushed her hair back. "You have the honor of working for someone such as myself."

"Do I get paid?" Luke quirked a brow.

"No. Does it look like I have money?"

"Okay, then what do I get for working with you?"

She laughed and gestured around her.

"You get to live here."

"Here? In some random guy's house?" Luke blinked twice. "Seriously?"

"Why not? You need somewhere to live, and I must blend in with whatever is happening here." Her eyes lit up. "Speaking of which, let's go pay a visit to that new couple in town."

Luke couldn't protest as the dark-haired witch dragged him along. Suddenly, all the color faded into black and white. Agatha's witch costume turned back into that boxy fifties dress, and the teen's tattered clothes took the form of a neatly ironed sweater vest and collared shirt. He was sure he looked like an idiot. In the blink of an eye, they were standing in front of the front door to that strange house. Luke had only ever seen it from afar, but it looked so ordinary up close. Agatha knocked once, and the two waited. She conjured up a pineapple, and Luke fumbled with it, not expecting the sudden weight in his hands. His hair was brushed back; she was saved from seeing more of that abomination of a mullet on his head. At the last second, before the door opened after she knocked again, Agatha changed the pineapple to a house plant.

On the other side of the door was a fifties housewife. Her hair didn't go past her chin and was perfectly curled. A floral apron was tied around her waist. She was pleasantly surprised to see two new faces at her door. Luke was shocked. He wasn't expecting a seemingly average person to open the door.

"Oh! Hello, dear." Agatha strode inside in her plaid dress. She tugged at Luke's sleeves to get him to move inside. "I'm Agnes, your neighbor to the right. My right, not yours."

The woman who opened the door smiled and glanced between them. Agatha could put up a convincing facade. Luke was sweating nervously. He didn't know he needed a cover.

"Forgive me for not stopping by sooner. My mother-in-law was in town, so I wasn't." A laugh track came out of nowhere. Luke looked around for the source of the noise. Agatha elbowed him, and he handed the house plant to the woman wearing the apron, and they moved from the door so she could close it.

"So, what's your name? Where are you from? And most importantly, how's your bridge game, hon?" Luke scrunched his face up. Agatha was talking too fast for his liking. He couldn't keep up.

"I'm Wanda." The woman held her hand out for the dark-haired witch to shake. "I'm sorry, who is he?" She glanced sideways at Luke.

"My son, Lucas." Agatha seemingly forgot he was there. "Don't mind him. He hardly talks after seeing my husband with his secretary." Luke grimaced. This was family lore he would have to take notes of.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lucas," Wanda said, extending her hand to him.

"A pleasure to meet you, ma'am." Lucas shook her hand like a tidal wave crashed into him. All this grief and pain that rivaled his own. He stared at Wanda, or was he looking through her? Agatha quirked a brow, then elbowed him again, and he let go of Wanda's hand.

"Golly, you settled in fast!" Agatha switched topics quickly, perhaps to keep Wanda from assuming they weren't meant to be there. "Did you use a moving company?"

"I sure did." Wanda set the house plant down on the dining room table. "Those boxes don't move themselves." The two women laughed.

"So, what's a single gal like you doing rattling around this big 'ole house?" Agatha moved to the couch to sit down, and Luke hesitantly followed suit. It was best if he stayed quiet.

"Oh, I'm not single." Wanda chuckled.

"I don't see a ring." Agatha quirked a brow.

"Well, I assure you I'm married." Wanda looked down at her hand and laughed lightly. Luke furrowed his brows. He didn't get it. What was so wrong about not being married or not having a wedding ring?

"To a man, a human one and tall." Wanda continued. "Later tonight, he'll be home for a special occasion. Just the two of us."

Agatha and Luke exchanged curious glances. It was peculiar that they just happened to miss him, and the teen already knew that she would be dragging him back to this house to see both Wanda and her husband. The women talked about the special occasion, and Luke sat there staring into space. He looked around at the home. It was cozy and quaint. Almost reminded him of television sets from the fifties. It was a bit peculiar. The way this all happened, the laugh track that played seemingly out of nowhere. Wanda was so frazzled that he could feel emotions swirling within the room. The next thing he learned about his fake family was that his father's name was Ralph.

Before he could get his bearings, Agatha pulled him out the door. He ignored their conversation, and her nails dug into his arm. She sneered in his ear.

"Your performance was horrible."

"What- What performance?"

"Never mind that," she let go of his arm, and he rubbed at it. There were definitely nail impressions on his skin.

"She was sad." Luke rubbed at his arm and leaned away from Agatha. "Like, there was this soul-crushing despair that followed her."

The witch quirked a brow. So he could detect emotions. It was a little peculiar and helpful in some situations, but she could use that to her advantage. There was power in that house. Lots of power. It oozed out of the walls, floor, and furniture. Something was happening here, and she needed to get to the bottom and perhaps steal it for herself. But for now, she has to get her story straight with this little miscreant.

[bumpycap]

idk why im so tired all of a sudden, might actually genuinely be sick or something

anyways tired brain made this to keep busy. 

brought to you by: i couldn’t actually decide on an expression so each side of his face in this is two expressions lol

also i just wanted to see what he might look like with freckles. maybe he’ll have them, maybe he won’t. I dunno. Even if he did, if he didn’t want you to see them, he could literally just cloak them lol.

I’m honestly kind of out of it so this currently makes sense to me.

wait I added his magic:

Left: Normal vs. strained or distressed magic. 

Right: visual activation. normally it would spin a second, then fizzle out. No need to let others know you are using your magic currently, after all.

Dizzy’s magic is like casting hallucinations or mirages (although he can still sort of summon actual magic attacks, it takes a lot out of him to do so.). Typically this could be used to fake his appearance, maybe pretend to be someone else (It is easier to pretend to be another Sans if he has the actual clothes. If he has the clothes, all he needs to do is replicate the voice and body.).

A physical way to tell if he’s pretending to be someone else: If you lower his guard enough, his yellow blush will persist through the illusion.

The more complicated, the more magic is needed. For instance, a hologram doesn’t take too much, just being a visual illusion. However, he could create interactable illusions, though it would probably end up making him incredibly tired. The interactive ones are a bit special, as they can make things feel real. Snow? Cold, so similar to real snow. Fire? You can probably feel the hot burning pain, though it may not actually end up hurting you(depends.).

(Adding this in after I was done because I forgot haha.) If he is low on magic, or feeling panicked, scared, etc. his illusions may fizzle and glitch with yellow. This could be a permanent effect, or only last a few seconds. Depends. I don’t know. I’m tired :p

.

So, Dizzy needs more magic than usual. Always has, even before he looked like this. He was just made that way, unlucky...

He is constantly hungry, or on the verge of hunger. Unless he is supplied with a surplus of magic that he wouldn’t normally be able to just find on his own (Monsters are great bursts of magic, but they just don’t do the trick at times.).

He would never eat human flesh. Disgusted by even the notion of one of his counterparts consuming human flesh, the only part of a human he would go for is the soul. Although, that’s a bit difficult to get to, and doesn’t even provide that much magic. To him, human souls have a bit more flavor, as well as giving him a small temporary boost in his magic.

If you provide him ample amounts of food(magic), he’d do basically anything for you for a certain period of time. If he concludes that a monster would bring him more food alive than if he tried consuming them, that monster would likely be safe from his ravenous tendencies.

This is why although I did have a sort of small storyline to follow with him, there might be more than one path. There’s a weird storyline with a bunch of plotholes, and then there’s the Bad Sans’ (ofc, lmao).

oh wait I started on a full on spiral(ba dum tsss) with how he works and stuff didn’t I..? Oh well, here you go.

///

Dizzy by BumpyCap (me :D)

[chriskingwong]

Flowers in Seoul

There are flower shops in every subway station in Seoul.

The first time I noticed, I was taken aback – not because it seemed out of place, but because it didn’t. Bright, fluorescent lights and polished floors and public service announcements hardly seem befitting for a garden. But in the midst of commuting chaos there lie little pockets of Eden. Like eyes in storms.

It felt as if every time I saw a flower shop, I’d notice another at the next station. And the next. The Frequency Illusion, or the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, “is a cognitive bias in which a person notices a specific concept, word, or product more frequently after recently becoming aware of it.”

It’s like how I always notice the clock at 12:34. The fact that it happens is statistically just as likely as any other (waking) time, but 12:34 is the one I latch onto and remember. It’s perfect and sequential. The beginning of something, anything.

Last year was my beginning of… something. I packed up all my things and moved to South Korea the day after my 31st birthday. It was a decision I made over a lifetime overnight. That is to say, I had grown complacent. Stagnant. Routine is a nice way of saying monotony. In ways it’s relaxing and in others suffocating and all that to say that if I hadn’t made it out I would have never known that –

There are flower shops in every subway station in Seoul.

I remember reading a birthday letter from my roommate in the airport as I was leaving. Coincidentally, she’s Korean-American. I lived with her for 5 years and aside from the arguments we had about the dishes or the thermostat or which kimchi is the best (radish for her, cabbage for me), the thing I most vividly remember about her is her temperament. She told me that this was the longest she’d ever live with someone that wasn’t family and regretted the days we fought. But I was still wrong about the best kimchi. I thought to myself, “if this doesn’t make us family, I don’t know what will.”

Compliments aren’t familiar between us, but I remember telling her that if a single spark could start a wildfire, then she could burn the world down with her flame.

I cried on the flight as I was landing, thinking that life is what you make of it and while mine isn’t perfect it was mine and I had made it. I was on the other side of the world when everything had seemed so set in stone. When a California boy had grown wings and flown.

The time I spent there was a whirlwind of food and skincare and food and exploration and food. It’s a beautiful city. With beautiful people. K-pop and K-dramas have ensorcelled the world; have gilded Seoul in magic. It is a city haloed with accolades in the musical, culinary, and entertainment arts. There is an awe and splendor to Seoul that you cannot find anywhere else.

But within the glare of the glitz and the glamor resides something sharp. Something hard. As if the populace is always on the razor’s edge.

Koreans have something innate that they call Han.

“Han is the suffering, sorrow, resentment, and anger that is shared among the Korean people. They have found a way to deal with the suffering of their country as a whole, and found a way to deal with the emotions together.”

Colloquially, known as K-rage.

Poetically, a world-ending flame.

It’s tangible. Palpable. You can feel it – the chip on everyone’s shoulder. You can see it in their gait and hear it in their speech. I saw it hanging in museum paintings and drank it in coffee shops. It was rolled in women’s hair curlers as we shared the train; flushed red in men’s cheeks as they drank soju. I heard and smelled and tasted and felt the anger and resentment and grief inside of everyone and still despite all of this pain and suffering and hardship and insecurity knew that –

There are flower shops in every subway station in Seoul.

Flowers never clothed anyone. Sated their hunger. But still these shops exist. In multitudes. Why? Why would a people so angry (rightfully) at the world care about flowers when they were forced to learn how to ferment foods in infertile times? Forced to submit? Why would they waste precious dirt and water and sunlight on flowers?

And then it hit me.

To them, joy is not an afterthought. It is the goal.

Isn’t it?

Isn’t everything you do for some form of joy? Either immediate or delayed?

For all the hardships they have endured, Koreans have flourished in despair. Learned to make light from shadows. They grow flowers in large handfuls and sell them in the meridians of Seoul. Like a heartbeat pumping joy to far-flung appendages.

In their Han there is beauty. And love. What is grief but the proof that love existed? What is suffering but the knowledge that there is something greater? Koreans have been shamed, conquered, enslaved, and persecuted throughout all of history and yet they still make time for flowers.

It is impossible to experience the depth of an emotion without having felt its opposite in equal measure. To know true joy one must know true sorrow – it is the understanding of the inverse that allows the appreciation of an emotion. From hate to love. From elation to anger.

I’ve been thinking a lot about love and light and little joys.

I’ve been thinking about an ajumma (an auntie) who owns a seollongtang restaurant in an alley hidden in Myeongdong. About how she always remembered my order and teared up when I told her I was leaving.

I’ve been thinking about a hairstylist who clapped giddily when I asked her to dye my hair purple. About how she stuffed my backpack full of color-safe shampoo and conditioner packets when I told her I was leaving.

I’ve been thinking about a girl from Seoul who told me my lips held magic. That my whispers were spells and incantations. About how she lamented that it was a dream and she would have to wake up one day. About the letter I sent her when I told her I was leaving her.

Love and light and little joys.

Yes, there is heartbreak. And shadow. And sometimes you feel as if there is nothing that will ever rekindle your flame.

But then it happens.

Maybe somewhere in the walks along the Han River. Maybe in the coffee shops or brisk spring air or the cherry blossoms or the late night jjigae. Maybe in the fragrance of a bouquet of flowers or the girl you give them to, you fall all over again. In love with the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. Of hands pressed into yours. Of the tinkling of laughter; the twining of destinies. In love with the way the moon glows silver and scintillating – as if this lifetime is nothing but a dream. Fleeting and ephemeral and entirely yours.

I hope one day you experience the beauty and wonder the city and its people have to offer. And don’t forget to buy some flowers. You can find them in every subway station in Seoul.

-Chris King Wong

10/16/2024

[prototype-muse-workshop]

Jasan S. Morozov

"I don't need to chill, I'm always frosty"

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Race: Hagspawn

Blood Type: B+

Height: 5’7

Weight: 230 lbs

Birthday: December 18th

Personality: Cheerful, curious, slightly mischievous, whimsically cold

Likes: Cold weather, wolves, nature, finding magical lore, avalanches

Dislikes: Hot weather, Iron, fire, despoiling nature

Background

Jasan S. Morozov is the child of a powerful ice hag and a mortal huntsman. Raised mostly by his mother who taught him the secrets of winter and herbs. Though his mortal father had a large hand in his raising teaching him how to survive in the wilds and use his wits to get ahead. Now of age he was sent by his mother to make his own way in the world. Now Jasan roams the world calling upon the power of nature and winter to help or hinder, whatever feels more fun at the moment. Unbeknown to him though his mother is watching out with dark plans in mind.

Personalty

Jasan is a cheerful fae. Due to his father having a major part of his life unlike other Hagspawns he has more empathy and able to more easily blend into civil society, and has a great child like wonder for the wider world especially where nature is involved. He has a soft spot for children often taking time to entertain the children of towns he travels through via conjuring snow or minor illusions to delight.

However as warm as he heart can be his blood is still of that of an Ice Hag and can be rather petty, sadistic, and cruel. As with all hags, he takes delight in suffering of others especially by his hand, and has very little qualms using the powers of ice and snow to bury someone under an avalanche of spells. When feeling particularly vigorous he'll often assume the shape of a wolf to hunt on his own or to assist. Though he does try to temper his hag's impulses for pettiness by doing more harmless prank and reminding himself it is 'impolite' to laugh at someone getting stabbed.

Jasan has a deep love of snow and winter, but also of nature in general. One of the few things that will raise his hackles is nature being despoiled, or nature being thrown out of balance. And to those who earn his friendship he is often friendly if slightly 'whimsically indifferent', such as leaning onto a friend while saying he doesn't want to be there and refusing to leave. Much like a cat.

Powers

Lore of Winter - His greatest power is his mastery over snow and ice, being able to conjure snow out of the air and flinging icicles as spears. With concentrated effort he's even able to summon elemental creatures of ice to aid him, or by expending his magical reserves able to create a localized blizzard. Though his magic is more tailored to controlling the field than direct damage

Lore of Druidism - Though not as pronounced he's well verse in healing magic that comes from nature, and of alchemy being able to find a use for root, leaves, and other parts of nature to make powerful healing salves, or able to conjure simple fruit and water for rations. He also knows how to talk to animals and turn into them, though he can only currently turn into a wolf, rabbit, or a sparrow

Hagspawn - Being the child of an Ice Hag his skin is always cool to touch. He can freely walk through snow and ice in thin clothing without ill effect, and where deep snow may slow down others it doesn't for him. He's also able to draw more magical power from naturally cold wintry areas.

Survival Training - Lessons from his father helped him learn how to trap animals, forage for food, fish, and how to gut what you catch and make it into food. He's also a halfway decent cook.

Equipment

Graystaff - His staff is a gift from his mother, and it helps him focus his power and spells to be greater, though only for spells that use Winter or conjure food. It's his prize possession

Strengths

Immunity to cold weather conditions

Great spell caster for controlling the field or healing others depending on what's needed

Great knowledge on how to survive in the wilds and hunting as well as curative plants

Cheerful and whimsical

Weaknesses

Extremely hot weather saps his energy and motivation

Iron itself burns him due to his Fae nature

Limited uses of being able to turn into an animal, and his animal forms aren't that impressive

Easily distracted by handsome or hunky men

Has conflicting emotions between his mortal father's kindness and his hag mother's cruelty

[culturalgeekgirl]

You are growing up in a situation where we have more information about how bad everything is in the world, and are bombarded with it more every second, and the consequences are coming due. That makes it easier for us to see the problems that have always existed. It also makes picking a flawed option feel more painful than it did twenty years ago, when it felt like we had more time. Or rather, twenty years ago, MOST people felt like we had more time, and like things would probably keep getting better until they were actively good. It's really only in the last 25-30 years that it became clear how easy it was to lose progress, and that fixing things isn't just something that will happen automatically if we don't fuck it up. Not me though. I've spent my entire life since I was like six absolutely enraged that we weren't doing more to combat climate change. That isn't a bit. I think the illusion that people liked candidates in the past was really because people weren't scared enough about the shit that was going down. They didn't know enough. They weren't mad enough. At the same time, I've always thought "two bad choices" is such a vast oversimplification that it's practically useless. Let's say I need to buy a car. Every single car that exists is extremely bad. The fact that I don't have the option of just not owning a car is bad. Every car either burns gasoline (bad) or its battery uses minerals that are mined in exploitative conditions (bad). The same thing is true of everything: every piece of technology. Every food. Every item of clothing. Every single thing you do every day of your life is two bad choices... in exactly the same way that the candidates are both "bad choices." But if you think of everything that way it will drive you insane. I need a computer to work. So I try to buy one that will last and is easy to fix so I don't have to replace it as often, and that's better. I need a car. So I get the one that gets 40mpg instead of one that gets 15mpg. It's a lot better. I hope that someday they manage to make a computer or phone that is produced sustainably using materials that don't come from exploitation. But right now no one does. In the same way that we haven't created the kind of pipeline that can give us a candidate that we all feel actively good about. Now comes the part that's going to be hard to hear. Part of the reason the "better" candidate is still not great (in the same way that the better car and better computer are still not great) is that we aren't involved in advocating for systems that will produce better things. Part of the problem is that the left has abandoned party politics and thus has very little power, while the right sends people to work in the RNC nationally and regionally every year at every level and thus has a great deal of power. Because of this, the right wing often ends up liking Republican politicians, while the left wing rarely end up liking Democratic ones.

In some ways, the crop of bad democrats is the result of fifty years of leftists saying "everyone in politics is bad, and instead of getting involved with the democratic political party to make that party better I will just repeat that it is bad over and over until that magically fixes something." When the RNC is full of right wing people and the DNC is full of centrists you'll get a right winger vs a centrist every time. The only way to fix this is for the left to get more involved in electoral politics. The only way you get a future where electoral politics don't suck is if more leftists get involved in the pipeline that produces candidates, which is primaries, local and state politics, and the DNC. That sucks! It's annoying! It's hard to do! But the right wing managed to infiltrate institutional Republican politics at every level in less than thirty years, and the center right was powerless to stop them. The left could do the same thing and the centrists at the DNC would be just as powerless. All it takes is for people to show up and do the work for thirty years. I don't know if this is helpful. But it's what I got.

With the current presidential situation of 2 bad options, combined with being young enough that this is the first presidential election I'm old enough to vote in, I'm wondering: was there ever a time that the general population actually liked the people running for president?

I was in 6th grade and 11 years old when Trump was elected. That was also the first election I paid attention to. Yeah before I knew who Obama was and some of the things he did, but he was also first elected before I had even learned to read, so I don't really remember anything about people's opinion on him or even the names of the people he was running against. Basically meaning the 2 bad options situation we're in in this upcoming election have been present in every election I remember.

And idk maybe it's my little far left echo chamber I find myself in both online and irl that makes me overestimate how much the average person dislikes the US government, but there had to be a time where the 2 bad option thing wasn't the norm, but at the same time the political situation I am growing up in makes it difficult to imagine a world where that isn't the case.

[kinsey3furry300]

So how the heck do the Avengers pay for stuff, and how rich are they?

So, in the wake of “Falcon and the Winter Soldier” There’s a lot of debate about why Sam didn’t seem to get paid well for his work in the Avengers (at least in the MCU continuity), and this has got me thinking: we’ve got no evidence that the Avengers are, financially, anything but a hot mess. So lets break it down, Avenger by Avenger, using real-world pay scales for the ones who have jobs.

Tony: a billionaire, so clearly he’s a financial genius, right? Well….. his actions say otherwise. He’s shown to be wildly irresponsible with his money. He inherited a lot of wealth form his parents which was managed by the first Jarvis, Obadiah, and Pepper for him, he buys and then gives away not just woks of art, but entire collections by major 20th century artists on a whim, destroyed his own cars and home without concern, he tanks the value of his own company in the first Iron Man with a bad press interview, gets kicked of his own bord of directors, and ultimately, in Iron Man 2, gives control of his company to Pepper. He’s insanely rich, and insanely smart, but man, he’s not smart with his money. So all the cool stuff, his suits, the Avengers tower, the facility up-state: that’s all paid for by him, but Pepper is holding the purse-stings.  So, does he pay the others? We have no evidence for most of them… but we do with Spidey. Peter Parker is in the Stark Internship Program a euphemism to hide the fact he’s training and mentoring him as a super-hero, but I find the wording interesting: he refers to Spidey, his surrogate son and chosen heir, as an intern. I.E., Unpaid.  I’m guessing this is Howard’s influence over him, some sort of ‘make you own way in the world, son’ attitude, but  if he’s not paying Spidey, is he paying anyone else? He certainly pays for stuff super heroes suits and things, equipment, fuel, the base, but does he pay anyone a wage? No one ever mentions it. You think it would come up.

So, if he’s not paying them a wage, where do Avengers  (and thier allies) get their day-to-day money from, and are they rich? Using google and https://www.federalpay.org, lets find out.

Cap: Well, before Civil war, he’s a shield operative, and he presumably still holds his military rank: he’s a US Army captain, with (well) over 40 years service, so USD$88,142.40 per year, with $237.71  drill pay (pay per drill you have to do on weekends, on leave or outside of normal service) and $175.00 per month hazard pay (which I bet is interesting) on top of that. As a WW2 veteran, he’d be eligible for a war pension if he:

Was not discharged for dishonorable reasons; and,

Served 90 days of active military duty; and,

Served at least one day during wartime ("wartime" as determined by the VA); and,

Had  countable family income below a certain yearly limit; and,

Is  age 65 years or older; or

Regardless of age is permanently disabled, not due to wilful misconduct.

As he’s still receiving 90k per year, he’s ineligible for a pension as his countable yearly income is above the limit.  So if shield pays him in accordance with his rank and years of service, about $90, 600 per year incuding hazard pay.

After civil war, he’s a fugitive on the run, so presumably flat broke. I’d asume he gets his pension returened to him after the snap.

He’s also just gone from the 40’s to the present day, so 70 years of inflation probably makes buying things very confusing for him: everything would seem insanely expensive at first. He’d also not know what the correct prices are for anything invented after 45. You might get used to how much more expensive food and coffee is, but how much is a smart-phone worth? $200? $2000 $20000? Who knows? I bet the others have to facepalm a lot when he either refuses to pay for what he sees as clear price-gouging, and at the same time regularly pays insane amounts of money for goods and services because he doesn’t know better. He also has no known assets other than his pay: he rents an apartment making him one of the few American males in his age-group who isn’t a home-owner

Thor: Does Asgard even have currency? It’s depicted like a “Crystal spires and toga” type utopia with no poverty: even working class Asgardian’s like Scourge seem to be pretty well-off and want for nothing, so he’s from a post-scarcity society where actual magic is a thing. His “Another” coffee cup smashing and the fact he doesn’t have a computer of phone in Ragnarök might indicate that, no, he just doesn’t have, need or understand money. Splitting a bar tab with him must be a nightmare. His breakdown post snap indicates he’s got some cash, but not a huge amount, and is probably skiving of Valkyrie and the other Asgardians.

Banner: Okay, so a PhD could make you a lot of money from patents… in pharmacology or engineering. Theoretical physics? Not so good. And if Banner did have any patents, they’ve probably been seized under eminent domain by the US military.  At the start of The Hulk film, he’s working a entry-level factory job at a botteling plant in Brazil. The minimum wage in Brazil is 1069.62 Real per month, that’s 12,835.44 Real per year, or around $2437.79 US per year, before everything goes wrong for him! He then runs off to India, works for Tony for a bit and then gets shot into space. Spidey may actually make more in allowance than Banner does, and Banner is a gown ass man with bills to pay: I’d imagine he loses a lot in ripped clothing.

Natasha and Barton: Pre Civil-war, both are government spooks, so how well does that pay? The salaries of CIA Intelligence Analysts based in the US range from $25,838 to $685,701 , with a median salary of $125,340, so let’s assume that Shield pays in a similar range: $685,701 per year for Director Fury, around 125,000 for Natasha and Cliff, which explains Cliff’s nice, middle-class mid-western home. Post civil war, presumably not great: we know that Natasha spends a lot of her savings running and hiding all across the world, and Cliff takes a deal and presumably lives of his savings, pension and his wife’s income.

Rhodes: Full USAF colonel with over 10 years service? $105,562.80 per year, plus $293.23 drill pay per drill and $175 per month hazard pay, and because he’s team Stark and not Team Cap in Civil War, he’d not lose any of that. He presumably also gets an injury pay-out after his accident. After T’challa and Stark, he might be the best paid avenger.

Dr Strange: spends all his money he made as a surgeon on trying to cure his hands: spends literally his last dollars heading to Nepal to train. Wong even jokes with him about their lack of worldly money when asking for a tuna-melt. But, can use illusion to make people think he has money, and his home and clothes etc. come with the job, so in the same boat as Thor in that he has no money, but needs none AKA, he’s a bastard to try and split a restaurant bill with.

Wanda and Vision: No know source of income, just sort of live in Tony’s hose and eat his food, and on top of that Wanda goes on the run after civil war… yet they can stay in fancy hotels in Edinburgh, a relatively expensive city, and Vison apparently bought them a house to retire in, so one of them has some source of money. Maybe Tony gave Vision years of back-pay form when he was still Jarvis, or maybe the vison has a day job, which is, frankly, hilarious. Could you imagine him as a barista? I can, and it makes me very happy.

Scott Lang: I’d assumed he’d be super, super broke, but apparently the average pay for a private security consultant in the Bay area is $85,430 per year. Not bad. Pity he gets sucked into the quantum realm just as his business is taking off, so presumably, flat broke again.

Bucky: no known income, and I doubt Hydra paid him for being the Winter Soldier so he probably has no savings, but he should, technically, qualify for a military pension. As a single veteran, he’d be  eligible for federal tax-free pension of up to $1732 per month, or $20,784 tax free per year. Not much for someone who lives in NYC. He may also be eligible for medical benefits over the loss of his arm. Whether or not he got to see any of that money given how confused his life has been over the past 10 years is unclear, but on paper he’s eligible.

T’challa: He is, quite possibly, richer than Stark, and as an absolute monarch pays no tax and has access to his Nation’s vast wealth in vibanium. It’s good to be the king!

Captain Marvel: USAF captain, and a test pilot; the test pilot school only accepts applicants with a service length of less than 9 years 6 months (10 years six moths of helicopters) as they don’t want older applicants. With 8 years service, $79,538.40, plus drill pay and hazard.  However, no know (human) pay since 1990. Flat broke.

Guardians of the Galaxy: no data, but I’m assuming “Cowboy Bebop” levels of perpetual never-ending poverty given the way they choose to live. I’d also assume Rocket has taken all their cash into some sort of Ponzi scheme of his own creation, because just look at him, of course he has.

Spidey: he’s got about $10 of his aunts’ money at any given time, so he can buy lunch… which may in fact be more than Banner or Lang, and we know it’s more that Strange or Thor.

 So, here the big one: how rich or how broke is Sam?

Sam Wilson: annoyingly, we’re not directly told what rank Sam held in any MCU film. USAF pararescue “Maroon berets” are generally NCO’s (but there’ are officer-ranked pararescue) , and he’s seen working on his wings at one point, where as officers don’t generally work on or maintain airframes. He’s shown wearing a Nation Air guard grey while jogging at one point to confuse the matter further. The general consensus on redit is he’s a former USAF tech sergeant (E-6). But how long was he in the air force? With six years service (the minimum sensible time he could have served to work in pararescue based on his age), that would be $41,464.80 per year, plus drill pay and hazard. As Anthony Mackie, the actor that plays him, was 36 as of Civil War, and assuming the character is the same age, and assuming he retired from the air force that year, and he joined the USAF at 17, the youngest you can join, he’d have served 19 years, giving him a pay of $51,566.40, the maximum pay you can get at this rank before promotion to Master Sergent,  but meaning he left just before he’d qualify for the 50% final salary pension you’d qualify for after 20 years. Which seems weird. So let’s assume the character is one year older than the actor that plays him and served 20 years (ages 17-37), that means Sam has a military pension of $25,783.20 per year (20,784 of it tax-free), plus any injury benefits. He councils other veterans, but doesn’t get paid for that. He also chooses Team Cap in Civil War, so would become a wanted criminal, and so lose his income between 2016 and 2018, and then gets snapped and has no income for 5 years, which would destroy his credit rating. Like the rest of Team Cap, he presumably gets his post snap pardon, and goes to work for the US government at his former pay and rank. However, given how Captain John Walker treats him as an equal, it’s possible he’s been promoted to a captain when the  hired back, giving him a pay of between $54,176.40 to $88,142.40 (with 20 years experience, depending on if they take into account his prior service or not, and how much prior service he has), but either way, he’s just starting this as a new job after being legally dead for 5 years: no savings, and no credit.

Commercial fishing vessels cost about 10% of their total value per year in maintenance alone. I can’t identify what sort of boat the Wilson’s have, but some quick googling indicates that the cheapest  15m long wooden in-shore shrimp trawler costs around $140,000, so that’s $14,000 per year in maintenance costs alone, minimum. And that’s a lower estimate, assuming the rest of the business is sound, which we know it isn’t.

So, in concussion, yes, Sam is in some serious financial trouble until he can re-build his savings and credit, but the scary bit is he’s not alone in that: he’s probably better off than Lang, Banner, Danvers, Strange, Thor, Bucky, Wanda and Parker. Only Clint (if he gets a full pardon and gets his full pension), Rhodes, Stark and T’challa aren’t in some sort of potential financial problems. That asshole bank teller was right: despite the fact it seems to pay well on paper, with a few exceptions, the Avengers financials are probibaly a mess. EDIT: Rocket is running the Ponzi scheme, if that’s not clear from context. The others know they have money somewhere, but not where it’s gone. And It’s been pointed out to me that as he’s technically a POW while he’s the Winter Soldier, Bucky is owed over 70 years back-pay, equal to over 3 million dollars, details in the notes.

[grxvitye]

magic

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for too long. I'm sorry for the long wait. mentions of natasha is included in here and filth just filth, i also might have gone overboard with this:)

warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, top/bottom undertones, oral sex (wanda receiving), hints of voyeurism... think that's it tell me if i missed anything

requested: here. (Its long)

words: 3.1k | marvel masterlist | navigation

you do not have my permission to translate nor to repost my writing on any platform. comments, likes and reblogs are always very much appreciated<3

★☆★☆

When you were a kid, you found yourself always being attracted to magic. Something about it makes you think that it’s not all illusions, that a small fraction of it might actually be true. You went to bookstores spending your whole day looking for books that talked about magic. One morning as you were about to walk in the dining room to eat breakfast, you heard your mom and dad talking about magic. It was totally bizarre hearing them talk about it as they passed the topic like a child’s play. You decided to conceal your presence and listen in. “She’s starting to be more curious about magic Dave, you can’t hide it from her any longer” you heard your mother say. Your father defeatedly replied, “Well then I guess it is time to tell her”. Your father called you up and you stared at them. “Honey come and sit, your father has a lot to tell you” your mother gestured to the seat in the middle of the table. You take your seat and your father begins talking. “Honey, we are sorcerers, magicians, if that’s what you’d like to call it.” You jumped out of your seat with joy “I knew it! That’s the reason why I am so interested in magic!” You were disturbed from your little party when your mother said “we are bringing you to Becker Street, you will be trained by Doctor Stephen Strange ''. You packed your clothes immediately and went to Dr. Strange where you got trained.

Months after training, your control over your power grew. You went out to the training grounds when you saw a man dressed in a jacket, in jeans with long blonde hair angrily talking to Strange. You walk over when he exclaims “where is my brother?”. In a surprised motion he told you to scoot over and opened a portal where a man in black came falling. “ I have been falling! for 30 minutes!” the man angrily says emphasising the last few words. Standing up he faced you “is this y/n?” he goes nearer to you, examining each feature of your pale and soft face. “How does he know my name?” you question Strange with a demanding voice. “I’m sorry where are my manners, Y/n, this is Loki”, he gestures to the man fully dressed in black. “And this is Thor,” he says, gesturing to the man in jeans and jacket. Not caring about them, you question him further, “what are they doing here?”. Loki looks at you and says”we’re here for you darling.” Inhaling deeply Doctor Strange starts speaking “ y/n, they are from the avengers, now that you have full control over your power,you should consider joining them.” You stared at him confused “what is this gonna do for me?” “It can help you grow y/n, I've taught you all the things I have learned.” You sighed obviously defeated “Fine, but it’s only just because you told me to”. You grabbed your suitcase and packed your clothes. “Goodbye y/n i’ll be sure to check up on you” Strange hugs you and you proceed to enter the portal along with Loki and Thor.

You arrive in front of a room with a couple of people in it. You see two redheads, who immediately caught your attention but you dismissed it as soon as it entered your mind. You follow Loki and Thor and you walk towards the huddle of people sitting. “Hi you’re y/n?” the redhead says. Uncomfortable with all the attention that you received you replied “um, yeah hi, i’m y/n”. Another man entered the room with a big grin saying “Hi! Look who’s finally here, I'm Sam!” The rest of the team introduced themselves and you hung out with them for the whole day getting to know each other while exchanging a few laughs within each other. While talking to the team you could feel the intense stares of the two redheads. If looks could burn, it was guaranteed the back of your head would’ve been burned off. You try to shake it away by going to the bar when Natasha comes near you and whispers “you could feel it can’t you?” the way she whispered made you feel shivers running down your spine. Stuttering you replied back “wha-what do you mean?” With a chuckle “stop acting innocent kitten i know you can feel it”. With that she left you alone. You drank your drink and went back to your seat. You could almost swear you could see the room spinning so you excused yourself. “Wait!” you heard a rush exclaim and you turned back to see who it was and it was Wanda. “I’ll lead you to your room, you seem like you’re really drunk”. You grin widely and say “well I don’t normally drink like this, it’s a surprise I even lasted this long”. You both laughed and she laid you on your bed and said “y/n if you need me, my room is right next to yours goodnight!” You didn’t get the chance to respond when your eyes closed and you drift away to a dreamless sleep.

★☆★☆

You wake up the next day with a very terrible hangover. You go down and you see Wanda cooking. “Good morning y/n, help yourself” she hands you a plate filled with food. Grateful that you were given some food, you sat down and started to eat right away. “Hey! slow down you might choke right there” she says while laughing. You abruptly stopped laughing when Natasha entered,she looked at you and Wanda and you could feel a pang of guilt as she looked at you with sadness. “Hey Nat, want some food?” you offered hoping she’d take up on your offer. Your kind smile turned into a frown when she declined your offer, “No thanks” she said and left. “Seems like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today” Tony stated as he entered the room grabbing a glass of water. “That’s goodluck to you y/n you’re training with her today”. You were caught off guard and began coughing, “I'm sorry what? training?”Steve enters the room and answers “yes now go get ready, you’re in for a tough ride”. You rushed to your room and changed into your workout clothes. Grabbing your water bottle you head to the training room and you see Natasha warming up. “Hey” you approach her while putting your water bottle on the table. “Come on and warmup” she replied, not even glancing at you. Confused as to why she was acting like this, you confront her “Hey, what’s wrong?”. “Nothing, just focus on warming up, we're starting soon” she stands up and walks away. Just like she requested, you went back to warming up.

After your warm up, she called you to start your training. You stood in front of her but you couldn’t focus as she was out of her catsuit and she was only wearing a sports bra and leggings, and everytime she breathed her firm breasts hung up and down as well. You didn't notice you we're staring until Nat called you out. “see something you like? come on focus, my eyes are here not down there.” she said with a smirk. You immediately avert your eyes to her face. Stammering you say “im- i’m sorry I didn’t mean to stare”. She laughed, “I'm sure you didn’t” she replied sarcastically. Catching you off guard she wiped her feet under yours causing you to fall flat on your butt with a loud “thwack”. “That’s for staring at my breasts too long” Nat immediately extended her hand to help you up but you didn't accept it you had other plans in mind. You stood up abruptly using your hands and started punching in a non rhythmic pattern. She immediately noticed your pattern and in no time was starting to dodge your punches very easily. She scoffed at your petty attempt and started throwing punches as well. Thankfully you were able to dodge most of her punches, when you didn’t it would end up hitting you harshly square in the face. She gave you no time to recover so all you could do was back up and dodge. You didn’t notice that you were near the wall until you felt it hit your back. Natasha gasped for breath and she was inexplicably close. You could feel her breathing near your neck. She took your hands and pinned them to the wall while roughly kissing your neck. You couldn’t stifle a low moan coming out from your lips. You could feel her smirking to your neck, she separated her lips and looked at you while saying “тебе это нравится, не так ли, котенок” (you like that don’t you kitten?). Unable to speak, you nodded frantically. You could feel a pool of wetness and you tried to hide it by crossing your legs but Natasha swiped her finger over your clothed heat and you couldn't stop but let out a small whimper. She pulled away before things could get more messy than it already is. You let out a small cry of desperation and look at her with plain lust filling your mind. “What?” she questioned you. Running off while grabbing your water you shouted “no , nothing absolutely nothing”

Panting, you opened the door to your room. You collapsed to your bed thinking of how you let Natasha easily get to you and how your core immediately reacted to her. You were interrupted from your thoughts when a knock came to your room, so you quickly threw a blanket over your body. “Come in,” you replied. You saw Wanda with her nose all scrunched up. “We’ve got a mission, it’s Hydra”. Your eyes softened as you recalled what they had done to her. “Suit up and head to the quinjet we’re going in 15” With that she left you. You couldn’t get your mind wrapped around that you had a mission- your mind was filled with lust from the previous incident with Natasha. Without thinking of the consequences, you snaked your hands to your needy core and laughed at how wet it is. Not wasting any time, you inserted your finger to your pussy and gasped at how full you felt. You pinched your nipple and you curled your fingers until you felt your orgasm coming. You released a loud gasp before cumming. You didn’t realize that Wanda didn’t actually walk away from your door and she heard what you had been doing. “What a naughty girl” she walked away smirking to herself.

You got up and wiped yourself up, changed into your suit and went to the quinjet. “I will check the perimeters and Steve and Natasha will stay on ground, while Wanda and Y/n will go in and check for any agents we can question and any casualties.” Tony said. You arrive at the Hydra base and you get off the Quinjet. “Y/n follow my lead I know where to go” you hear Wanda say in a hushed voice. You followed her lead and you went into an underground room when you heard a bunch of footsteps creeping up on you. You turn around and you see an agent with a gun aiming it at Wanda. “Wanda!” You push her to the side and you end up taking the bullet while also using your powers to cast the agent down on the floor. Crouching near your body, Wanda carefully picked you up and ran towards Tony and the others. “Y/n is down she needs help” Wanda said while panting. “Take her to the quinjet we will be right at your back” Natasha replied not taking her focus away from the Hydra Agents she was combating at the moment. Wanda ran towards the quinjet carrying you carefully. You and the others returned to the tower and they brought you to medbay. Bruce immediately checked your wound. “How is she?” Natasha and Wanda asked in sync. “Luckily it’s only a small wound, she’d be up in about 30 minutes, I suggest she train lightly in about 2 hours.” Bruce replied while looking at his watch. After resting you got up and went to your room preparing for light training. You trained with Natasha but she only made you sit for almost the entire duration of training. You could only get a few punches in ”You should take a shower and rest, you're stinky” Natasha told you while laughing. Snickering you replied “shut up Romanoff you’re way stinkier than me” you tease her while making your way out of the gym. While making your way to your room you start wondering where Wanda was, as you had seen her last in medbay. You arrived at your room and prepared your clothes and stripped out your sweaty gym clothes. You took your towel and entered your bathroom when you saw Wanda in your bathtub looking at you smirking. What surprised you was that she was naked- in front of you. You were disturbed from your thoughts when she slowly approached you and you stared at her perfectly shaped breasts hanging freely with her fully erect nipple. “Wha-what are you doing? You asked her as she began closing in on you” You could feel your pussy aching, desperately begging to be touched.

“What do you think?” she kissed your neck forcing a sweet moan to come out from your lips. “You like that hmm?” she asked, her voice hoarse from the hotness pooling in her legs. You could only nod in response. “I asked you a question use your big girl words малютка(baby)” she snarled at you harshly. “Yes I- i love it mommy” you couldn’t stop yourself from calling her mommy and you could feel her smirk against your neck. You started to grind your mound against her legs, desperate for release. You drag her hand towards your pussy, you had to let her know how much you craved her touch. “Jesus Christ” she breathed out. “You’re this wet and I barely even touched you” she mocked you. She broke the contact and you let out a desperate cry. “Patience malysh we’ve got a lot of time to ourselves” she said gesturing to the bed. “Bed. Now” she demanded.

You decided to play with fire and crossed your arms “No.” You see her narrow her eyes at you “Y/n. Bed.Now” you smirked more “make me” She carried you to the bed and laid you down “you’re gonna regret being such a brat” You couldn’t contain an excited wail of what she had planned for you. She placed her hands at your hips and slowly kissed your neck down to your breasts. Her lips quickly wrapped around your needy nipple and a moan escaped from your mouth. “Please mommy, I won’t be a brat ever again just please” you begged. “Hmm? what was that? use your words. I don’t know what you want kitten”. She went back to teasing you, getting dangerously close to your pussy. Bucking your hips, you begged “Please mommy, please, please fuck me.”

She rolled her tongue directly at your pussy and you thought you were going to cum right there and then. She circled her tongue and sucked your clit making you arch your back from the intense pleasure you were feeling. She applied more pressure making you moan out loud grabbing her hair towards your pussy urging her to go harder. You gasped as you felt two fingers enter your pussy, you felt so full. “Just like that o-oh please” you begged. You could almost visualize her smirk when she replied “do you want me to go deeper kitten?” You were so deep into the pleasure that you couldn’t form words properly and nodded instead but unfortunately it wasn’t enough for her. “I want to hear you beg baby.” Stuttering you forced yourself to beg “mommy pl-, please go deeper, please” you let out a long moan when she started to go deeper. “Just like that please just like that” you chanted. A few more thrusts you felt your orgasm nearing and you tried so hard not to cum, you didn’t want to show her that you couldn’t last any longer. “I can feel you trying not to cum kitten, let go” she whispered. That command was enough to let go and soon enough your hips were bucking up and down. That was definitely the most intense orgasm you felt throughout your entire life. You slowly started going down from your high when Wanda started to speed up her movements again, this time, adding a third finger. She combined it with flattening her tongue to your clit and flicking through it. She curled her fingers and that sent you over the edge, this time, screaming her name out loud. She lapped your juices and kissed you. “You taste so good.”

“Sit on my face” you grasp her smooth and milky legs guiding her onto your face. You could sense how eager she is when she immediately propped herself on top of you. You could smell her arousal and you started to tease her by giving slow and wet kisses to the sides of her legs, inching closer and closer to where she truly needed you. “Y/n please stop teasing” wanda slowly croaks out. “Hmm, what was that? What do you need?” you say, making her whine. “Please y/n please, just fuck me right now” she said while toying with her nipples” Satisfied that you successfully made Wanda beg, you began to roll your tongue over to Wanda’s pussy. Arching her back, a throaty moan falls from Wanda’s sweet lips which makes you groan sending jolts towards Wanda’s heat. “Oh my god” wanda exclaims with her eyes rolling back to her head. You groan once more when you finally inserted two fingers just to see how easily it slipped in due to how wet she is. You could feel Wanda tensing around your fingers as you pumped harder and harder aiming to hit her sweet spot. She began to grasp your hair, chanting your name like a prayer. “Y/n.y/n.y/n.” You take it as a sign of her being close, you add another finger into her while pumping twice as hard. She was clenching your fingers, you could tell she was really close. You placed your mouth on her clit, torturing the nub and curling your fingers hitting the spot you've been aiming at perfectly. “Ahhh y/n, fuckk” Wanda moans at the intense pleasure you were giving her. You started to pump slower and slower letting Wanda ride her high. Panting, she laid down beside you “i haven’t cum hard like that” she looked at you smiling. You swell with pride at the confession she gave you. You give her a peck while grabbing the sheets to cover yourselves up.

★☆★☆

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[kiwi--bot]

Patterns

Rating: T Words: 2,872 Warnings: Blood, Injuries, Al-An doesn’t understand emotions very well. Summary: Al-An prefers when things fall into an easily recognizable pattern. It’s how data forms, it’s easier to work with, and less surprises make it easier to remain efficient. Robin is a rogue bit of code in the set sequence.

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Indeed, it had been quite some time since Al-An was allowed to exist in any dimensions outside of their temporary isolation. And truly, Robin had done well in the fabrication of an Architect form that would suit their needs to relocate the pair off the planet, and return to their home with the remedy for the Kharaa Bacterium; for the Architects of their home world.

Unfortunately, following the reconstruction of their new form, Al-An is hit with the immediate problem that their supposed mode of transportation has... degraded over time; and they are quite lacking really on the resources department. Countless amounts of bits and bobs, here and there, that simply corroded over the years, or just did not operate further. And every small tick of a list of issues added up to an inoperable phase gate. Yet Robin-- ever so helpful Robin-- offers to help collect whatever Al-an could need to repair their ship.

“Always together, even if you’re not stuck upstairs anymore,” She had joked, tapping the side of her head in an emphasized way. How Al-An could only think of how true that statement was...

And so, life on 4546B settled into somewhat of a steady, even pace for Robin and Al-An.

Robin relocates her primary base to the facility where Al-An prepares for convenience’s sake. She wakes up late in the morning, and Al-An’s learned to get a cup of coffee steaming hot and settled at her nightstand at precisely 13:29. This in turn helps her wake up and become functional no later than 13:50-14:00, depending on how late she was up the previous night.

Following that, Al-An fabricates a nutritious meal of her choosing, and it’s set onto a table-- or, a section of the facility that’s been repurposed into a table-- and she eats before she heads out for the day to find the resources needed. (And always, Al-An makes sure that there’s a fabricated meal packed away in a thermally-controlled container for her to take along.) And like clockwork, Robin is back at 22:22 with her Seatruck stuffed to the brim with all the supplies she could find.

And usually Al-An has to check her for injuries or parasites and she just grins when they comment on how inefficient her resource-gathering is if she must hurt herself every single time. “Awww, you just like to fret over me, Al-An,” she coos as they utilize their on-hand medical devices to knit up skin from a rather nasty bite.

“I do not fret, I observe,” Al-An states plainly, and Robin rolls her eyes, only wincing a little when Al-an has to wipe over another puncture with that strange antiseptic gel, and the skin closes under the heat of that magic little tool that Robin has yet to scan. “And I know that humans are one of the most fragile things that get in more trouble compared to any living creature I have yet to meet.”

“I’m gonna talk that as a compliment, Al-An.” Robin flexes out her wrist once the wound is all sealed up, the only reminder a faint scar left in the wake. She flashes a grin at the Architect, who would promptly turn back to what they had been working on prior before they needed to patch her up.

At 27:00 or 28:00, Al-An ceases working for a short period-- one Robin requested so that they don’t overwork themselves. Of course, an Architect cannot really do such a thing as ‘overwork,’ but Al-An humors her. And Robin’s meal is fabricated and settled on the table no later than 28:50. She used to always request Al-An eat dinner with her-- and although they do not eat like she does, they sit nonetheless at her side.

And Robin will scroll through her PDA and read the day’s logs once again, chewing hear and there and really making an inefficient use of her time as she often does. But humans like to be that way-- leisurely, as Robin once corrected them-- and so Al-An will not question it again.

She always leans back against the stone of the her temporary seat, shrugging and shuffling and making a good amount of noise that could startle even the most focused Architect from their endeavors. Over time, she would unconsciously lay against Al-An’s side, and that often settled her, so they would not comment.

If they had to admit something, the pressure therapy from her body weight was a welcome one, given they did not have the proper tools to recreate such things.

Robin turns into bed anywhere from 1:00-3:00; it will depend on what areas she visited, and what the day’s events involved. And she will bid Al-An goodnight with a smile and pat on their arm, before she retreats to her bed. Although, she doesn’t really go anywhere, because her ‘room’ is just a small section of the facility adjacent to where Al-An primarily works.

She’s fabricated herself a bed, some storage, and even hung up some curtains to block out the steady glow of the facility. It’s a small little space that reminds Al-An of how Architects would furnish the habitats of subjects they used for research.

Peculiar.

And this is how their pattern would fall into, resetting each day at 13:29 with the first coffee of the day. Al-An finds the repeating pattern of each day, as Robin would put it.... soothing. Did Architects even need to be soothed? Historically?

No. And yet Al-An could not help but find this... calm, inside the promise of the known. Perhaps it was a way for them to deal with the fact that they might not know what would await them on the other side of the phase gate, where they would have to face their people, and answer for their mistakes. Perhaps that reason is why they can now find solace and even comfort in something as simple as a daily pattern.

How the other Architects would be baffled at the thought. The very notion of it was so unlike them all. Al-An would have to blame Robin for this, at the very least.

Merging with her cerebral cortex must have changed something in their emotional status....

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And with the promise of a steady pattern, Al-An could find each day predictable enough to not impede any portion of their work. They worked quickly to repair what needed repairs, to adjust what needed adjusting, to alter what needed altering.

Steady. Steady. Steady. Repeat.

The illusion of this pattern gets shattered when 22:42 arrives one evening, and Robin is not yet home. Al-An, logistically, should be business as normal. She could have gone farther, she could have had a small set-back, she could have gotten distracted. But when 23:22 arrives, and Robin is still not home, Al-An finds they cannot work.

The data rolls in front of their vision as normal, the facility is operating at 100%, and they have spent the better part of this week weaving data in such a way that it is second-nature. But their hands do not move, their gaze is transfixed on the door, and the progress of their work is stunted.

She should be back by now. She should have been back exactly 60 minutes ago.

Al-An cannot work. They shut off their normal programs and instead set up a long-range scan. It puts them off schedule immensely, but they, for once, cannot find it in them to care about inefficiency. It takes 20 minutes for the scan to prepare, and the entire time, Al-An keeps their gaze on the door. Like Robin will burst in any second, with a couple new wounds, yes, but here, and alive.

Robin does not enter the door by the time the scan is online at 23:42.

Robin does not enter the door as the scanner searches at 23:43.

Robin does not enter the door as the scanner searches at 23:44.

Robin does not enter the door as the scanner searches at 23:45.

Robin is not home as the scanner searches at 23:46.

Robin is not home safe as the scanner searches at 23:47.

Robin is not home safe as the scanner searches at 23:48.

Robin is not home safe as the scanner searches at 23:49.

Robin must not be safe as the scanner finds her at 23:50.

Al-An must prepare for the worst, even as they wish to leave as soon as the scanner reads her biosignature in the Arctic. No good in retrieving her if they do not have food, medical supplies, warmer clothing, an extra hair tie-- she always complained when her current one would break-- and anything else humans needed when they were potentially in distress--

No.

Robin is not in distress. The very thought has the Architect frozen to the spot, a flicker of something so unfamiliar buzzing through them. She is fine, just delayed. Off-schedule, off-pattern. No matter, Al-An will locate her and then they will both repair that.

They finish collecting everything needed into a neat pack, and just as they prepare to put the facility into lockdown, there’s a familiar faint splashing, and then footsteps padding across a stone floor.

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It is 24:17 when Robin Ayou enters the Architect facility she calls home with her arm crudely wrapped in a sling and her leg leaving a trail of blood. But nonetheless, she’s got the same grin on her face, and carries something sharp in her uninjured hand. She’s limping.

“Al-An!” She calls, her voice loud and full of excitement. She’s stumbling over her own feet, and Al-An blinks to her side to catch her with the beam of their mechanical arm, lifting her right off the ground. She doesn’t notice how their posture is tight and tense, instead waving the sharp object in her hand. “Al-An I did it! I fought off one of those Shadow Leviathans and I freaking won!”

Al-An does not reply.

“It tried to eat me, Al-An!” Robin’s arm waves wildly in her excitement, and she doesn’t protest when Al-An brings her to the empty table to seat her, once again getting to work on mending what is broken. Her injured arm has several gashes in it: some down to the bone, and covered messily with plant matter. Al-An removes those and starts on sterilization.

“It yanked me by the arm, but I was quick-- I stabbed him right in the eye, and I held on, because he was pulling me towards his mouth!” She grins wider, adrenaline masking any pain from the antiseptics, or how the beam begins to knit the skin and muscle back to one piece. “I lost my grip on my knife, but I grabbed his spine-- or whatever those glowing things on his belly are-- and I held on and kicked him right in the stomach!”

Al-An silently redirects attention to her leg, where acidic liquid had eaten through her suit and burned the skin-- not too horribly, but bloody. That is treated next.

“And then I must of hurt him bad, because he let me go, but not before I yanked and yanked on those spine things-- And look! I got it, I ripped one clean off!” She’s talking quickly, her body thrumming at the thrilling tale, and feeling so alive. “I felt bad at first, but then I remembered that he tried to eat me, so I shrugged it off, and he backed off after I ripped off this. I won, Al-An! Against a freaking Shadow Leviathan!”

Robin laughs, slapping her now healed hand against her forehead and grinning wildly. “God, I thought for sure I was a goner when I didn’t take the prawn suit down--”

“And why didn’t you, Robin?”

They are both startled by the tone of Al-An’s voice. And Robin finally realizes that Al-An is stiff, mechanical in how they treat her-- so different from the almost caring way they usually do. And they are glowing a sickly yellow color, their gaze transfixed on her wounds as the mechanical arm fixes up the burns on her leg.

“I-I.....” Robin is at a loss, her eyes now locked onto them. “I.... don’t know.”

An uncomfortable silence falls between them. Al-An finishes up work on her leg, and then does a general scan over her to make sure they didn’t miss any other wounds. Processing, methodical, even.

Something is wrong, Robin thinks. Even now, as they seem to pull away from the situation, the same sickly color tinges the edge of her vision. Robin catches their arm as they turn to assess her findings, and she doesn’t miss how they tense.

“Al-An....” She begins, but stops. She can’t find the right thing to say. It all feels wrong. Like anything she says next won’t be the right thing to say. But she tries with, “Are you okay?”

“That is hardly a question you should ask me, Robin.” Al-An’s voice has gone back to the same, even tone as when they first met, but it’s all off. Too even, too tight. Like there is something beneath the surface, just hiding and waiting to strike like an Ice Worm. “You should ask yourself that. You were the one who was injured. Sustaining traumatic injuries is detrimental to the overall health of--”

“Did I scare you?” She asks, and Al-An falters.

“Fear is not a concept we feel,” They state, and yet they now feel the sinking familiarity of it nonetheless. Fear. They were afraid, they had been afraid when Robin was not home at the right time. They were scared when Robin returned injured. They were scared when she recounted her harrowing tale, and they were scared that she’s going to do it again and they would not be there to pick up the pieces--

“Al-An...” Robin’s voice cuts through the swirling data inside their head, and her eyes are soft as she reaches and touches their chest gently. She feels.... awful. Physically and emotionally. How could she not realize that they were upset? How could she have been so blind when she’s normally so in tune with the Architect? “Al-An, I’m really sorry.”

“You have done nothing that warrants an apology,” Al-An states; but their lights flicker pink for the briefest moment. “You were simply acting inefficiently and radically in a way that could have resulted in several versions of a potential death, which is not uncommon for your species.”

Robin smiles. That unintentional insult was 100% all Al-An. She shifts closer to them, and then her arms wrap around them, and she leans her head against their chest, and she imagines she can hear their heartbeat through their thick, armored body. “I know, I was being an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m hugging you, Al-An. Never had a hug before?”

“Architects do not partake in this sort of behavior,” Al-an tells her. But, nonetheless, they mimic her movements, and their organic arms encircle her smaller frame, and having her close to them like so reminds them just of how tiny and delicate she is. “....Touching one another was not commonplace.”

“Then I’m gonna make it commonplace, and I’m gonna give you a hug everyday until I catch up on the hugs you’ve missed out on your whole life,” Robin hums as she closes her eyes, yawning.

“That would be impossible, given the length of your human lifespan,” Al-An corrects her, but they find the idea of one of these each day not entirely unpleasant. Robin laughs, and she just smiles. And their lights shift to a light pink as she falls asleep against them, and they return her to her bed: asleep too early for the schedule.

But it was alright to be a little off-pattern.

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And so, life on 4546B settled into somewhat of a general routine for Robin and Al-An.

Al-An has her coffee ready at 13:29 and she drinks it as she wakes up and rolls out of bed by 14:00. Al-An fabricates breakfast, packs her a lunch, and she’s out the door for the day’s work. And if she returns at 21:57 or 23:37, Al-An is not worried. After all, she’s returning with less injuries, and that is good enough for them.

Together they sit when Robin has her dinner and Al-An has their break around 28:42, and Robin reads aloud her PDA entries to Al-An-- even though they could easily scan and upload the documents themself, it makes her feel happy, so they indulge. And Robin leans back against Al-An without hesitation once she’s done eating, and they find the pressure nice.

And when 1:00 or 2:00 rolls around, just before she turns in for bed, Robin will throw her arms around Al-An for their daily hug, and she will hold on tight for a good few minutes, and Al-An learns to hold her in return. Perhaps if they held long enough, tight enough, she would never be in danger again.

And they find that perhaps, maybe... they like hugs.

And Robin fashions the Leviathan fragment into a necklace, that she gifts Al-An.

And Al-An wears it everyday.

[aspoonofsugar]

Emerald + Mercury = Cinder

BEGINNING OF THE END = MIDNIGHT

The episodes Beginning of the End and Midnight can be seen as complementary.

Both share a similar structure with the first part telling Cinder’s story and the second part showing how past events are influencing the present. At the same time, they show the links among Cinder, Emerald and Mercury and explore their changing dynamic.

In Beginning of the End it is shown how they came together and we reach the climax of their cooperation. The Fall of Beacon is when the trio is at its strongest. It is only because of their coordination and teamwork that the plan succeeds. In Midnight instead we are shown the beginning of their separation.

For different reasons (fears and wishes) both Mercury and Emerald are about to leave Cinder. Mercury already has and it is probable Emerald will soon.

The two episodes also give us two opposite and complementary visions of Cinder.

In Beginning of the End, we have the way Cinder wants to appear:

Cinder: (stepping forward slowly, glass anklet shifting with her footsteps) I've already told you. And I don't like repeating myself.

Salem: I would like to think I have shown a great deal of patience over my many years walking Remnant. But I do hate repeating myself.

Mercury: Is this how you treat a patient? (Emerald reaches over and twists the screwdriver in his leg, causing him to wince) Ah, too tight!

Cinder: Enough. Our Mercury put on a wonderful show. He was quite brave.

Salem: Do you find such malignance necessary?

Watts: I apologize, ma'am. I'm not particularly fond of failure.

Salem: Then I see no reason for your cruelty towards young Cinder. She's become our Fall Maiden, destroyed Beacon Tower, and most importantly, killed dear Ozpin. So I'm curious, to what failures are you referring?

In Midnight we see who she really is. Moreover, it becomes more and more clear that her imitation of Salem is different from the original:

Salem: I will tell you when and where you are needed.

Cinder: Both of you, get out. I’ll let you know when you’re needed next.

Mercury: Yeah about that, Salem’s got other plans for me. I’m not gonna be taking orders from you anymore.

Why is this being shown through her interactions with Emerald and Mercury? Why are they important for Cinder’s character?

First of all, Mercury and Emerald are Cinder’s kids, at least narratively speaking:

Roman: Oh, look! She sent the kids again! This is turning out just like the divorce!

Roman calls them so when they first appear and later on several characters refer to them as kids in relation to Cinder.

Raven (about Emerald and Mercury): Two children you've tricked into following you.

Tyrian: (chuckles as he slowly walks toward Emerald) Careful, little girl. Cinder isn't here to protect you anymore.

Tyrian (mocking Mercury): Oh yes, the world is mean, and I'm a big, bad man now just like the others.

Salem (to Emerald): Speak, child.

In short, they are meant to be the last link in a chain of abuse that starts with Salem, goes on with Cinder and finally arrives to them.

At the same time, as the title says Mercury + Emerald = Cinder because they are nothing more than parts of Cinder herself, both in their backgrounds and in their personalities.

CINDER + “HUNGER” = EMERALD

Cinder: Follow me, and you'll never be hungry again.

Cinder: It's... an emptiness. It burns. Like hunger. I like it.

In Beginning of the End Emerald and Cinder are shown to share a hunger motif.

Emerald is presented as a street rat who survives through stealing. She is poor and starved, so she accepts Cinder’s offer to be taken care of and to be given food. That said, it is clear that other than food what Emerald is truly starving for is love:

Emerald: I just... (sighs) Cinder was the only family I ever had. She cared about me, taught me things...

I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one

Similarly, Cinder too is shown to be hungry. More specifically, she is hungry for power:

Cinder: I want to be powerful.

It is meaningful that in the episode where Cinder tells Emerald she won’t have to starve anymore, she herself is starving. This contradiction conveys the tragedy of Cinder’s character aka a traumatized girl taking in a kid similar to her and becoming like her past parental figures.

As a matter of fact Emerald and Cinder’s first meeting has parallels with Cinder meeting both Madame and Rhodes.

When Cinder meets Madame she asks for food, but is negated it:

And she is later shown to have survived through leftovers.

In contrast, food is the first thing Cinder offers Emerald, who she recognizes as a girl who has survived in poverty, like her.

In their first meeting, Cinder also treats Emerald pretty much like Rhodes treated her. Both discover a young girl, who has just committed a theft and confront her. However, instead of punishing the girl, they both offer to be the girl’s mentor and become her idol.

As a matter of fact both Cinder and Emerald are shown to idolize their saviors to the point that both girls try to look like them by changing their hair/clothes:

So, it would superficially seem that Cinder is acting like Rhodes and in the opposite way of Madame. However, the reality is far more complex. Deep down, Cinder is acting like her adoptive mother because she is targeting a girl and thinking about how she can weaponize her. At the same time, there is a key difference between her behaviour and Rhodes’s. Rhodes had Cinder give the sword back, while Cinder never stopped Emerald from stealing. If anything, she encouraged her criminal activities changing her from a thief to a terrorist. In other words, Cinder radicalized Emerald.

This is once again linked to the motif of hunger both girls share:

Cinder: You Atlas elites are all the same! You think hoarding power means you'll have it forever, but it just makes the rest of us hungrier.

Cinder’s trauma is rooted in the unfairness of the world. She was made to starve simply because she was born in the wrong situation and society completely failed her.

What is more, when Rhodes refuses Cinder as well, she too refuses his vision of the world. Rhodes, pretty much like the Prince of the original fairy-tale, offers Cinder a way to social-climb. In the fairy-tale, Cinderella marries the prince and so becomes a princess in the end. Here, Rhodes is telling Cinder she can reach her own castle. Cinder can escape her misery and reach Atlas. However, this is seen as a lie by Cinder the moment he attacks her.

So, Cinder giving food to an orphan like her and trying to destroy the current order are both coherent with the idea that the world is unjust and needs to be changed. However, Cinder is using the same problems she criticizes to her advantage. What is more, she is exasperating them in order to fulfill her personal agenda, which is only about herself and her self-image.

Let’s see now, what do our two young thieves steal? What are they “hungry” for?

a) Emerald steals a ring:

Salesman: A beautiful ring... for a beautiful woman.

Interestingly, the ring itself might be a reference to the original story of Aladdin, which is apparently Emerald’s allusion.

In the original story Aladdin meets two jinns. The first one is in a ring and Aladdin uses it to save himself and to escape with the magic lamp, where a stronger jinn is. So it makes sense for Emerald to steal a ring (something she wishes) just to meet a woman that promises her she can have more (her personal jinn aka someone that can realize Emerald’s dreams).

Why does Emerald steal the ring?

It is possible she just wants to sell it in order to buy some food, but I like the idea that she steals it also because she wants some beauty (”a beautiful ring for a beautiful woman”) in the harsh and horrible world she lives in (“filth”).

b) Cinder steals a sword:

Like in Emerald’s case, the object of Cinder’s theft can be seen as part of her fairy-tale’s allusion.

As a matter of fact, in Cinder’s adaptation of Cinderella the swords are nothing, but her glass slippers.

This is made clear later on when Rhodes (both the Prince and the Fairy Godmother) gives Cinder the first sword. It is meant to be a prize on his part. He is showing Cinder she does not need to steal it anymore because she has gained it. Moreover,  weapons are said to be extensions of a person by Ruby, so it makes sense that the slipper of the original Cinderella becomes a sword in this version. It fits the personality of our Cinder, a fiery young girl, who wants to become a huntress.

Finally, since Cinder’s story uses both inversion and deconstruction when adapting the fairy-tale, it is interesting that in the end the Prince refuses to give Cinder the other sword (slipper) and Cinder takes it by force:

In this way, Cinder goes back to stealing, which was what Rhodes had originally tried to avoid.

Why does Cinder steal the sword in the first place?

She steals something to defend herself with and to hurt her tormentors. Violence is rooted in Cinder’s first theft.

In short, Emerald wants something beautiful, while Cinder wants something powerful.

This difference is coherent with their respective semblances since Emerald creates illusions, while Cinder is able to overheat objects, so that she can create explosions and manipulate their shape. Both powers are representative of their user’s flaw and coping mechanism.

Emerald is a person who has reacted to her traumatic life by chasing illusory dreams of warmth and love. She tricks others and is tricked because she refuses to dispel her self-delusions.

Cinder is instead a person, who has been molded through violence just like the glass statues in the hotel. She is forced to endure until she can’t take it anymore and she explodes:

She herself is the Glass Unicorn, which shatters like Cinder’s innocence when too much pressure is added. Not only that, but Cinder too has started molding others to her will. She has been grooming both Emerald and Mercury for her own ego. This is why the name Scorching Caress fits her so well. It is because behind every act of care it is hidden an act of manipulation. And this happens because Cinder too has been treated utilitaristically and the only kind of love she experienced (Rhodes’s) was a “weak” love Cinder ended up perceiving as fake.

In short, Emerald and Cinder have different coping mechanisms and aim for different things. However, this does not mean that one is better or worse than the other. Their main difference is that right now Emerald is more in touch with her own needs and wishes. Ironically, the delusional girl has never lost sight of what she truly wants.

Emerald wants a family. She has been looking for it in the wrong places and she has been pursuing it in the wrong ways. However, Emerald has never forgotten what she is truly after and she is starting to realize she won’t have it, until she stays on Salem’s side:

Salem: It's important not to lose sight of what drives us: Love, justice, reverence... but the moment you put your desires before my own... they will be lost to you. This isn't a threat, this is simply the truth. The path to your desires is only found... through me.

Tyrian: Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh. I want to tell you both a little secret. Your question is all wrong. (laughs)

Emerald: What?

Tyrian: "What do you want from this?" Children, please, if you're not loving what you're doing, then you're in the wrong field.

Salem promises to fulfill Emerald’s wishes, but Tyrian has already told her that pursuing a wish while working for Salem is useless. Emerald is starting to realize it and this is why she will probably leave.

Cinder has instead forgotten what she originally wanted:

Cinder: Like you? You can do whatever you want, go wherever you want.

Cinder’s original wish was to be free and also to be loved, like Emerald:

You're no good I hope you know That your life is of no use And the truth is that No one's ever loved you

However, her being failed by the adults has twisted her wish into a desire for power.

This difference is well conveyed by Cinder and Emerald’s respective line in Beginning of the End:

Cinder: Follow me, and you'll never be hungry again.

Emerald: Thank you...

Cinder: The Huntsman severed the connection before it was complete. (pause) Yes. It's... an emptiness. It burns. Like hunger. I like it. (pause) Yes. I will claim what is ours. (pause) Thank you.

Emerald thanks Cinder because she won’t have to be hungry anymore, while Cinder thanks Salem because she is able to feel a hunger she likes.

This fits well with Cinder’s last words to the Madame:

Cinder: You’re right. Without you I am nothing. But because of you, I am everything.

Emerald does not want to be hungry, while Cinder has been tricked into thinking that being hungry is the only way she can become not even “everything”, but just “something”.

CINDER + “EVERYTHING” = MERCURY

Cinder: Because of you, I am everything.

Mercury: So I got strong, but I never got it back! I've had to work harder than anyone to get where I am.

Cinder’s way of thinking is very similar to Mercury’s. Not only have they both endured their parents’ violence, but they have tried to give this violence meaning. It is because of Madame that Cinder has become “everything” and it is because of Marcus that Mercury has become “strong”. They must believe that it was not all for nothing and that the pain they felt made them stronger instead of weaker.

This is why Cinder thinks that deep down her “hunger” is good. It is because it drives her, but she ignores that it blinds her too.

This is why Mercury keeps going back to his father:

Mercury: Bad hair, used a scythe, and smelled like my dad after a long day. It was him.

Mercury: My dad always said... "if you need to know a city, ask the rats."

He mentions Marcus here and there and uses his teachings to solve problems. That is because those teachings must have some value, right? If they don’t, then Mercury’s life means nothing.

The nature of Cinder and Mercury’s foiling is clear in their first meeting:

Like in Emerald’s case, Cinder finding Mercury calls back a moment of her past.

In particular, it parallels the murder of her adoptive family and Rhodes discovering it. Mercury, just like young Cinder, has just killed an abusive parent and is confronted by a person after the fact.

Once again, Cinder seems to act differently from the adults that let her down. Rhodes was horrified and attacked her, while Cinder praises Mercury and has him join her group.

However, she is deep down acting as Rhodes did. As a matter of fact what truly hurt Cinder about Rhodes’s reaction is that he convinced her that she is irredeemable.

The whole scene plays with the Cinderella’s allusion and inverts it:

The clock strikes midnight and just like in the fairy-tale, the magic is over. In Cinderella, the protagonist goes back to her true self and runs away not to be seen. However, in the end, the prince recognizes her through her slipper (a symbol of her innate beauty and kindness) and marries her despite her humble condition.

In Cinder’s story, midnight is when she reveals a part of herself to Rhodes. She shows all the anger and violence she has been repressing. Cinder is not a “good victim” like the Cinderella of the fairy-tale and Rhodes can’t accept it. Not only that, but he negates Cinder’s dream to be free:

Rhodes: You can run, but you’re going to be running for the rest of your life.

Cinder: I won’t have to run now.

Rhodes: That’s all you’ll ever do.

This shatters Cinder’s hopes and self-perception. She internalizes that she will have to live in opposition to society because she is somehow “a bad person”. She is not a huntress (a princess), but a nobody who’ll have to use violence to survive. And she starts doing it immediately. As the song that starts playing implies, she has been awaken from the “fragile lies in bones”. However, this “truth has broken her soul in two”. This wound is still there and it has influenced, among other things, her reaction to Mercury.

When Cinder meets Mercury, she associates him to his father three times:

Cinder:  And you're his son. We saw your fight from the treeline. He's taught you well.

Mercury: Guess so.

Cinder: What's your name?

Mercury: Mercury.

Cinder: Mercury... Tell me, are you anything like your father?

In this way, she strengthens the connection Mercury tried to cut by killing Marcus. She is indirectly convincing him that he can’t be different from his father:

Tyrian: All you ever learned was pain and violence, and now you're too afraid to leave it. Such a tragedy.

Tyrian spells it out clearly for both Mercury and the audience. The only reason Mercury joined Cinder and is now working for Salem is that he is scared. Not only is he scared for his own survival, but he is scared about failing to be anything else than what his father taught him.

Cinder is deep down scared too by Salem and her group:

However, she too, like Mercury, has given up on being anything different than a criminal. She puts up a strong demeanor, but is actually really frail. She is like glass that has been bended through heat (violence) and can easily shatter.

Both Mercury and Cinder are two violent victims. This duality is kind of conveyed also through their names and colors.

“Cinder” is something that has only partially burnt. They tried to reduce her to ashes, but failed and a part of Cinder is still burning. This is why her main colors are black and red. She is black because she was burnt. She is red because she can burn. She was both hurt and has hurted others.

Similarly, “mercury” is a silver/gray metal and this is Mercury’s main color. This choice gains a possible deeper meaning when one considers that his aura is white and that his surname is Black. His aura can be seen as Mercury’s nature, while the surname “Black” is a symbol of the “nurture” he received. Mixing these two factors made so that Mercury turned out like he is (a gray character).

So, Cinder and Mercury have been shaped by their abuse and this is clearly visible on their bodies as well:

Cinder keeps the scar on her neck hidden, while Mercury has chosen to weaponize his missing legs.

It is telling that Mercury made of his own mechanical legs his weapon and that he mostly uses kicks to fight. It is another detail that shows how he is reducing both himself and his trauma to weapons he can use.

Cinder too shows how frail her sense of self is through weapons. It is not by chance that her current weapons are made of glass. In her backstory her swords were a symbol of her true self and of who she could become. Right now, they are nothing, but glass imitations of that ideal.

In short, Cinder and Mercury are both victims and murderers and they needed to have both sides of themselves accepted by their mentors.

However, Rhodes and Cinder failed to do so. They both refused the victimhood of the child in front of them, but they did so in opposite ways.

On one hand Rhodes refused Cinder’s violence and its reasons. He ignored his feelings of affection for the girl and steeled himself, so that he could fight her.

On the other hand Cinder gladly accepted Mercury’s violence and groomed him (Scorching caress), so that he would completely embrace it too.

The difference between Rhodes and Cinder lies in them having different reactions to the violence perpetrated by a child. However, they both fail to address the child’s pain. Rhodes does so because his vision is too black and white. Cinder does so because she is not even able to address her own pain.

However, both Cinder and Mercury need to address their own victimhood. Still, they refuse to do so because it would mean to accept their vulnerability. It is easier to convince themselves that they are the strong and violent ones. They are the ones others are scared of:

Mercury: We're the guys you should be afraid of.

But it is precisely because of this refusal that they are currently caught in dynamics similar to the ones they escaped:

Salem and Tyrian are nothing, but more dangerous versions of Madame and Marcus.

Salem treats Cinder as a pawn, rather than a person. She strips her of her personhood and agency and punishes her violently.

Tyrian is a killer, who enjoys his job like Marcus. He keeps invading Mercury’s personal space and threathens him. Moreover, his own semblance is similar to Marcus’s. It might not steal people’s semblances, but it still messes with their auras (with their very souls).

Cinder and Mercury struggle to recognize their own situations because to do so they must accept they are still stuck in their horrible childhoods:

Mercury: You may not like it here without Cinder, but I think I'm right where I'm supposed to be!

Cinder: I don’t serve anyone. And you wouldn’t either, if you were built that way.

However, this refusal is confusing them about what their true needs and wishes are:

Cinder: I want to be strong. I want to be feared. I want to be powerful.

Mercury: So what's in it for me?

In Beginning of the End both characters receive a line where they express some kind of wish.

As stated above, Cinder’s wish is not her original one, but a twisted version because she thinks she can’t reach her true desire.

When it comes to Mercury, he is not even sure of what he really wants. This is made clear even later on:

Emerald: I mean, there has to be something you want from this, right?

Mercury: Salem's promised us everything. We win this thing for her, we'll be top dogs in her new world. What more do you want?

He says Salem will give him all he wants, but he still fails to answer Emerald’s question. What is it that he wants?

He wants “everything” Cinder can offer him and later on “everything” Salem offers him. However, this is just another way to say he’ll take anything he is given, be it even something as basic as survival:

Mercury: Look, even if what he said was true, we can’t stop Salem. You told me yourself, Hazel tried. He failed and he got in line. Big guy’s not going to pick fights he can’t win, and neither should we.

This is because Mercury is so scared and hurt he can’t even start to think about what he wants.

Similarly, he goes back to a fatalistic vision of the world:

Mercury: Just made sense.

Emerald: It made sense?

Mercury: All my life, my father trained me to be a killer, an assassin like him. And then moments after I killed him, you two showed up looking for someone with my exact skills. Just felt like it was meant to be.

Let’s highlight that Cinder does the same:

Pyrrha: Do you believe in destiny?

Cinder: Yes.

Cinder: You know, Neo, someone once asked me if I believed in destiny. And I'm happy to say I still do.

Both Mercury and Cinder have convinced themselves that there is a “destiny” written for them and that they must play that role (the role of an assassin, the role of the Maiden). However, in this way they are just chaining themselves and accepting to Do As They Are Told by adults and mentor figures, who do not really care about them.

EMERALD + MERCURY = SOUL + BODY

I'm the one That was born in a nightmare a murderer's son Got no gun But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one Delusion I'll steal til your blind and defeat you from inside your mind

I'm the one That was ripped from the earth and exposed to the sun Overrun By the hate and the beatings defiled by a father I'm the one I'll race with your eyes and you'll never outrun Illusions Will conquer your mind and will make you fulfill my design

Mercury and Emerald’s song says several things about them.

First of all, it conveys the idea of two kids that feel let down by the world and have decided to retaliate. They mock their opponents and praise their respective abilities. However, it is clear from the verses above that it is just a mask to hide their pain.

This fits with them appearing for the first time in Best Day Ever where Ozpin says this:

Ozpin: And they will be, but right now they're still children. So why not let them play the part? After all, it isn't a role they'll have forever.

Differently from out protagonists (at the time), Emerald and Mercury are not playing the part of kids, but they are acting as big bad thugs to prove themselves to the people around them.

Secondly, the song is useful to explore Emerald and Mercury’s foiling.

a)

I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one Delusion I'll steal til your blind and defeat you from inside your mind

I'm the one That was ripped from the earth and exposed to the sun Overrun By the hate and the beatings defiled by a father

Emerald was never given love, while Mercury was given hate:

Mercury: I'm sorry you didn't have a mommy that loved you, but I had a father who hated me!

This difference is at the root of their different personalities.

On one hand Emerald attaches herself to the care Cinder gives her and takes it as the most love she’ll ever receive.

On the other hand Mercury is just content with not receiving hate and violence from the people around him.

Emerald is more open about her connections with others, while Mercury is more disillusioned. She is strongly driven by them, while Mercury is too scared to fully embrace them.

Emerald has clear wishes, but she is deluding herself about them. Mercury has fears that do not let him realize what he wants.

This difference stems from the different nature of their traumas. Who was never given anything accepts whatever they are offered, while who received pain thinks even nothing is better than more pain.

Still, we are currently seeing an inversion of this dynamic. Emerald’s wishes and their not overlapping with reality are making her doubtful. Mercury’s fear and survival instinct are making him refuse the truth:

Mercury: And all of this is pointless, anyway. Salem’s not ending the world.

In the end, facing one’s own feelings, being them wishes:

Or fears:

Is still better than repressing them, even if it might be painful.

b)

I'm the one That was born in a nightmare a murderer's son Got no gun But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron

I'm the one I'll race with your eyes and you'll never outrun Illusions Will conquer your mind and will make you fulfill my design

The song I’m the One has four key verses. In the first two ones both characters tell a little of their past and then discuss their abilities, while in the other two Mercury mostly talks about his past and emphasizes it, while Emerald highlights her semblance more.

This ends up foreshadowing the importance of Emerald’s semblance and Mercury’s lack of one (”got no gun”).

Emerald’s semblance is important on different levels. As stated above, it perfectly embodies Emerald’s flaw:

Mercury: You're in denial.

And it is linked to unconscious aspects, like wishes and fears. Finally, it is a semblance linked to trickery and lies and these are among the causes of The Fall of Beacon:

Cinder:  Our Kingdoms are on the brink of war, yet we, the citizens, are left in the dark.

It is not by chance that this semblance specifically has been so instrumental in Cinder’s plan, after all.

Similarly, Mercury’s lack of a semblance is one of his defining traits:

Mercury: He never went easy on me! Every day of training was a beating. And when I unlocked my Semblance, he stole it with his!

Ironically, this would make for an excellent narrative objective for Mercury’s character. However, he is so sure his semblance can’t be taken back that he has completely given up on it. This even if he is clearly bitter about having had a part of himself stolen.

The key aspect here may be that Mercury has failed to get his semblance back through his father’s teachings:

Mercury: He told me I could have it back when I was strong. So I got strong, but I never got it back!

And he is now considering it lost forever. It is possible that the path to find his ability again is instead another one altogether.

That said, while Cinder mostly used Emerald’s semblance in her plan, she also made great use of Mercury’s skill and of the peculiar nature of his body:

The first step in her plan, after all, uses both Emerald’s semblance and Mercury’s prostethic legs to spread negative emotions. This tendency continues in PvP where Emerald uses her semblance and Mercury, unhurt because of his legs, prevents Ruby from interrupting the fight.

In short, Emerald mostly relies on her semblance, while Mercury mostly relies on his legs and fighting prowess.

This detail adds to the idea that Emerald and Mercury have been acting as a unit and have been complementing each other. Emerald acts as the “soul” and Mercury as the “body”.

The soul is one’s personal essence (like the semblance). It is where (once again) wishes reside. The body is what protects the soul and is animated by instincts and self-survival.

They complement each other. This complementarity is shown in Emerald and Mercury’s fights.

In the Vytal festival, Mercury takes on both Coco and Yatsuhashi for a short while, so that Emerald can size her chance to fight Coco at her own terms (and she wins by using her semblance).

In the Battle of Heaven, Emerald uses her semblance to help Mercury fight and, in a sense, she compensates for his lack of one:

This perfect complementarity used to make them strong, but right now it is clear that it has become limitating:

Blake: When you’ve been at someone’s side for so long, after a while they become a part of you. But that’s just it, they’re only a part of you. Don’t forget about the rest.

 This is why they are currently being separated by the narrative.

On one hand Emerald must learn not to be so emotionally dependant from others and must make her own choices. This is also why her using the lamp might be meaningful:

Qrow: This last great creation would be given the power to both create and destroy. It would be given the gift of knowledge, so that it could learn about itself and the world around it. And most importantly, it would be given the power to choose, to have free will to take everything it had learned and decide which path to follow - the path of light or the path of darkness.

The whole point of the relics (and of the journey we are going through) is to learn about the world, about creation and destruction, so that in the end a choice can be made.

This is why the first relic we saw is the relic of knowledge. Now, Emerald is a character that has been dependant on others, so that she could realize her wishes. Aladdin itself is a story about a character depending on a Jinn to make his dreams come true. However, it is possible Emerald’s arc will be different and it will be about gaining the knowledge to act and realize one’s wishes.

On the other hand Mercury must face himself and learn what he really wants. He must start living instead of simply surviving. In a sense, he must take the soul his father stole back.

Mercury quoting Marcus: "This is a crutch!" "This makes you weak!"

Marcus was wrong. One’s individuality (semblance) does not make them weak. If anything, Marcus’s abuse of Mercury made him need a literal crutch (since he lost his legs) and the boy is still hiding behind this violence to avoid any real choice about himself. This is what prevents him from becoming strong:

Yang: You might be powerful, but that doesn't make you strong.

Raven: Who do you think you are, lecturing me?! Standing there, shaking like a scared little girl?!

Yang: Yeah, I'm scared. But I'm still standing here!

His connection with Emerald might still play a role in this. After all, Mercury is, among other things, the god of thieves and this allusion has been played with by making him protective of Emerald (whose surname means “thief”). It might be used in a deeper and more meaningful way later on.

Emerald and Mercury must grow because if they don’t, they’ll end up as their dark foils:

Both Hazel and Emerald ended up joining Salem out of a feeling of love that was twisted. Emerald joined Salem because of her loyalty to Cinder, who is using her. Hazel joined Salem because of the death of his sister that he blames on Ozpin. Their semblances are even symbolic of their respective flaws since Emerald is caught up in her own delusions, while Hazel is unable to properly grieve, so he can’t “feel pain” on more than just the physical level.

Both Mercury and Tyrian are assassins and Tyrian is who Mercury might become if he truly chooses to live only to kill and does not find a different goal.

It is also telling that both Emerald and Mercury are currently put in similar circumstances as their two foils. As a matter of fact Mercury is leaving with Tytian, while Emerald and Hazel have been given the password to use the lamp and must choose what to make of this information.

At the same time, Emerald and Mercury have also some traits of respectively Tyrian and Hazel as well.

Emerald is fiercely loyal to Cinder like Tyrian is to Salem:

Tyrian: So devoted to someone so incompetent.

Hazel wanted to protect Gretchen (and is still acting on these unfulfilled feelings of protectiveness) like Mercury is trying to protect Emerald. Moreover, Gretchen and (probably) Emerald’s choice was/will be to fight an enemy that can’t be beaten, going against Hazel and Mercury’s wishes.

All in all, Emerald and Mercury have had interesting interactions with both Hazel and Tyrian that can be (ironically) seen as two incomplete and flawed mentor figures.

On one hand Hazel has been acting as a protector of sorts. He carried Emerald when she lost consciousness after the Battle of Heaven and he tried to protect both Emerald and Mercury from Salem’s rage after their failure.

On the other hand Tyrian is seen tormenting the two kids whenever he gets the chance. That said, he ironically ends up spelling out for them truths the two must face:

Tyrian: Do what makes you happy children... please? I'm begging you...

Tyrian: Of course she is! You’re surprised? Salem is destruction incarnate! Our mistress wishes to see the end of it all! There is no ideal more beautiful.

In short, some kind of interesting foiling seems to have been set-up for the four of them and it will be interesting to see if/how it develops.

MIDNIGHT = BEGINNING OF THE END

In a sense, when the clock stroke midnight it was the beginning of Cinder’s end because she entered a spiral she has not been able to stop since then. Not only that, but she has dragged other people in that same spirals and those people are now struggling against it, just like her.

At the same time, midnight signals the end of illusions and that may be a fitting description for where we are in the story so far.

Ruby has just announced the existence of Salem to the world, Emerald is uncovering several truths about Salem, Cinder and herself and the Ace Ops are being forced to face their emotions. Of course, when some illusions end, new ones appear. However, it is clear we are in a pivotal moment, which will hopefully lead to some changes.

Similarly, Cinder, Mercury and Emerald will probably go their own ways soon and it will be interesting to see how their paths will foil and where they will meet again.

As for now, it seems that because of Emerald’s allusion to Aladdin, she might use the last question to Jinn. If so, she will probably aquire knowledge and wisdom (emeralds are the stones of wisdom apparently).

Mercury will probably spiral a little bit as for now, but I wonder if he will receive some pivotal focus in the Vacuo’s volumes. Other than him going there with Tyrian, there is also the fact that it would make what is currently just a juxtaposition with Penny (thank you, @hamliet​ for noticing) a more interesting foiling.

Penny is an artificial human, a creation who was given life because her father loved her so much that he sacrificed a part of his aura for her... twice. She is at the centre of the theme of creation and it represents the good sides of it. She is a creation with a soul, a child, the fruit of parental love. It is because of the love she received that she is willing to protect creation:

Penny: That is not… I choose to fight for people who care about me.

Penny’s arc is about self-actualization. She struggles to be her own person outside her role, her purpose and even her parent. However, even if she has been objectified and keeps being objectified, she has also been given affection and this is why she fights.

Mercury is her opposite. He was the target of his father’s violence. Marcus not only stole his legs (while Pietro built Penny a body), but even a part of his soul (while Pietro gave Penny a part of his). He taught Mercury hate and violence and this is why he is currently helping a witch to destroy the world. Because of this, it would be interesting for such a character to receive focus on the volumes about destruction.

Finally, Cinder, as the Fall Maiden, is linked to the theme of choice. This has already been explored a little bit in her being obessed by destiny, as said above. However, the theme of choice is one which must still be fully explored.

In particular, there are several references to choice and destiny when it comes to Cinder’s foil aka Pyrrha:

Cinder (about Pyrrha): Hmm... People assume that she's fated for victory, when she's really taking fate into her own hands.

Cinder: It's unfortunate you were promised a power that was never truly yours.

Pyrrha: When I think of destiny, I don't think of a predetermined fate you can't escape. But rather... some sort of final goal, something you work towards your entire life.

Red-Haired Woman: She understood that she had a responsibility... to try. I don't think she would regret her choice, because a Huntress would understand that there really wasn't a choice to make. And a Huntress is what she always wanted to be.

Pyrrha’s arc is about making a choice. She must choose if she wants to become a Maiden. She struggles, but in the end she accepts this responsibilty. She embraces her idea of destiny and tries to be a Maiden even without powers.

Cinder’s idea of destiny is not fully explored. In a sense, just like Pyrrha, she has taken destiny in her own hands. However, she also seems to use the idea of destiny to nurture her self-image as the Chosen One and as the Worthy One.

At the same time, Pyrrha’s choice led to her tragic death. Not only that, but in the end her death accomplished little. Even Ruby activating her silver eyes has more to do with her wish to protect life, rather than with death. Why is that so? It is probably because Pyrrha’s choice was made without knowledge. She had been explained only a fragment of the truth, while the whole point is that one should learn, meet creation and destruction and then make a choice. This is why we have yet to meet the relic of choice.

My guess is that the theme of choice will mostly be explored through Cinder’s character, who will be asked to choose her destiny in the end.