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perfectpaperbluebirds · 3 years

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@sicktember Prompt # 7: Sneaky Temperature Check

Title: In Which Howl Worries About Sophie

Fandom: Howl's Moving Castle (book)

Sophie is tired and careworn and doesn't realize she has fallen ill. Howl comes to her rescue once more, and turns out to be an awfully good caretaker.

(For those who have only seen the movie: Elementary school-age "Markl" in the movie is high school-age Michael in the book. Howl, Sophie, and Calcifer are very much the same.)

Most of the time, living in a moving castle with a wizard and a fire demon made for a very interesting life, and a vastly different one than Sophie had led trimming hats for her family��s hat shop. However, there were times Sophie was grateful for her upbringing, especially when it came to helping to raise her younger sisters. After all, being able to care for someone who needs help is a skill no one should lack.

That was driven home to Sophie not long after the dramatic events involving the Witch of the Waste and her fire demon. Howl and Sophie had broken spells and contacts galore, and were well set up to live happily ever after in the moving castle, with a newly-freed Calcifer along for the ride. However, not a week after the Witch and her fire demon were defeated, Michael came down with a bad cold. Sophie chalked it up to all the stress from the weeks prior, and too much magic flying around. Howl hardly seemed to notice his apprentice sneezing all over everyone, and was much more interested in Sophie, now that she was back to her proper age and properly in love with him.

It wasn't until Michael's cold took a turn for the worse and he was laid up in bed and not around to help that Howl paid it any mind. However, as everyone knows, there's no cure for a cold, not even with magic. In a matter of days, despite Sophie's efforts, Michael became seriously ill when his cold developed into a nasty case of pneumonia. After this, Sophie hardly left his side. She felt unreasonably guilty that she had somehow caused this, or hadn't cared for him properly in his cold's early stages. Sophie's sister Martha and Michael had plans to get married after Michael's apprenticeship, so of course Martha was beside herself as well. The sisters practically lived in Michael's room during those days, keeping watch to ensure he got no worse, as he lay in bed wheezing laboriously.

Michael finally did start to improve, with some assistance from Howl's magic, and Sophie and Martha breathed a little easier along with Michael. However, since Martha had her own apprenticeship to worry about, Sophie still felt quite obligated to sit often by Michael's bedside and keep him company, especially when Martha was working.

Howl clearly began to feel neglected. He dealt with it admirably when Michael was most ill, but when Michael started to recover, Howl began to seek some attention as well.

"Sophie, come out and walk in the garden with me. It's a beautiful day. Perhaps we can even pick some flowers and reopen the flower shop today.

"Sophie, I just read about a very interesting spell that you might like. Come here and I'll teach you.

"Sophie, come tell me how you'd like your room laid out so I can start to modify the castle. You can't sleep under the stairs forever.

"Sophie, come here and sit by the fire with me. Calcifer is bored and wants you to talk to him.

"Sophie, the bathroom is a mess. I need your help to clean it.

The petitions quickly went from hopeful to petulant. Sophie sensed his frustration. However, she was too concerned about Michael and Martha to pay him much mind. She had an excuse every time as to why she couldn't rest.

"I don't have time for flowers right now. I need to make another pot of broth.

"My mind is too scattered to learn a new spell. Another day.

"I couldn't think straight enough to plan a whole room. And I really don't need to move. My cubby hole is perfectly fine.

"I can't sit when I have bedding to clean, and anyway my voice is worn out from reading to Michael.

"Then clean it yourself! I'm not the only one who can scrub.

As Howl became more annoying, Sophie became angrier, until she was brushing him off before he even spoke with a look or a curt gesture, especially when he began to ask if she was coming down with something and she had to tell him she was fine multiple times a day. At one point there was only icy silence between them after she snapped at him for standing in front of Calcifer when she needed to cook, and he called her a nagging fishwife. When she shot back saying that must mean he was the fish, Howl stormed out to Market Chipping in high temper. She didn't see him again for the rest of the day.

A few days after their fight, Sophie again found herself in front of Calcifer cooking. Michael finally had an appetite for something other than broth, and with Calcifer gone for part or all of most days when it wasn't raining, she took the opportunity to cook on him whenever she could. However, for once she wasn't chatting with the demon, but was simply attending to her task in a haze of fatigue. After a moment, she sensed Howl standing at her side looking at her, which flared up a familiar spark of irritation.

"If you tell me to "come" do anything with you today, I'm going to scream, Howl. Don't bother me," she said, not looking at him.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Howl conjure up a chair and push it behind her. "I'm not asking you to come anywhere, I'm asking you to sit right where you are. Please rest for a bit, Sophie dear. You look as if you're about to collapse."

The true concern in his voice made her bite back the sharp response on her tongue. She let a small sigh escape instead, which turned into a dry, raspy cough. "I just haven't been getting much rest," she said after a moment. "I'm all right."

"You've also kept that cough for weeks now, and it's getting worse and not better. Sit, please. I insist on it. I'll watch the bacon."

"I'm just a little under the weather," she mumbled weakly. Yet she found herself sinking into the chair almost against her will. The fact that he was being so insistent intrigued her even in her tired state, since he was usually so non-confrontational. "I'll sit for just a moment to please you. But don't even think about sitting with me. I'm still mad at you, and I don't want to talk."

"Not a word to you will cross my lips," he said primly. The fact that he wasn't taking the bait to pick a fight with her was also suspicious. She watched him closely out of the corner of her eye, leaning back into the chair as she did. She really did feel much better sitting down and breathed a small sigh of relief, which became another cough. She tried to lean back and rest as she had been instructed to do. It occurred to her that she had been more lightheaded these past few days than she had been the whole time she was an old woman.

True to his word meanwhile, Howl took over the bacon, wrapping a gilded sleeve around the handle and striking up conversation with Calcifer, which Sophie didn't bother to follow. Instead she sleepily admired Howl's handsome profile, and thought for the hundredth time how much better his eyes looked now that he had his heart back. The pendant in his ear danced as he spoke, and watching it sway lulled her into a doze almost immediately.

She woke with a start when she felt something press against her face, which turned out to be Howl's hand.

"I knew it," he crowed. "You *are*feverish. Otherwise you would never be so irritable. Poor, dear Sophie, you must've caught Michael's cold. I imagine you're feeling awful."

She brushed his hand away wearily. "And so what if I am? There's too much to do. I don't have time to be ill."

Howl frowned, then without a word he effortlessly picked her up, bridal-style, and began to carry her up the stairs.

She tried to push his arms away, but he was stronger than he appeared for how slight he was-- or else he was using magic. She wore herself out quickly fighting him, instead succumbing to a coughing fit.

He carried her directly up to his bedroom, laying her gently on the bed. She half-heartedly tried to roll off the other side to get down, but Howl stopped her with one hand. As she sunk into the obscenely comfortable mattress, the weight of her fatigue fell over her fully, and she stopped fighting, instead yawning hugely.

"There now, you see? You're exhausted. And you're not leaving this bed for a few days until you're better, lest I have two cases of pneumonia on my hands.”

"But I can't stay in your bed. I should be in my bed," said Sophie sleepily, even as Howl tucked her in.

"I won't let you sleep on that straw mattress one more day. Before you're recovered, you shall have a proper room and bed. Be honest Sophie, the reason you're so against having a real room here is because that makes your being here and what you and I have together permanent, and that scares you. That's why you've been avoiding me too. Michael being ill was just a convenient excuse."

Sophie guiltily avoided his eyes. "I suppose that might be true. It's just such a big change, moving in permanently. And it's all so surreal still. Sometimes I think you and all of this must be a dream, because it feels too good to be true."

Howl took her hand tenderly, kneeling by the bed. "And I thought I was supposed to be the one afraid of commitment, not you. Dearest, I feel the very same way. I'm terrified to see where this road leads, as well as terribly excited. But we'll go slow and take our time and figure it out together. That's what we seem to be good at, if nothing else.

Sophie kissed his hand, a wave of emotion flooding through her. "Thank you, Howl. I needed to hear that." A nasty bout of coughing prevented her from saying anything further.

"And here I'm keeping you talking when you're ill. Hush now and rest. Here, drink some broth. It's yours so I'm sure it's wonderful. I haven't seen you eat properly in days." He conjured a bowl and spoon out of nowhere.

"I can barely swallow. My throat is too sore," she mumbled, embarrassed at how much he had been noticing, while she had been ignoring him.

"Just a little for now, to give you some strength. I'll mix a potion for your throat in a bit. You're under my care now, never fear."

"What about Michael? He needs looking after too," she croaked wearily, sipping on the broth, which was indeed delicious.

"I'll be fine with Martha's help. You need looking after more," came a weak voice from behind them. Both quickly turned to find Michael leaning in the doorway, barefoot and wrapped in a blanket, and looking as pale and weary as he did determined.

"I knew you were getting sick too," Michael continued. "You've been so tired and subdued. I told Howl he needed to check on you."

"Not that I needed him telling me so! I already had planned to look after you," Howl said, giving Michael an injured look.

Sophie couldn't help but smile at the two men in her life, tired as she was. She knew whatever else her future would be in the moving castle, she would never want for entertainment or affection ever again.

#sicktember2021 #sickfic #prompt 7 #everyone is hotter with a fever

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fanficimagery · 4 years

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Surprise! It’s a Girl.

Imagine finding out you're not who you've been led to believe you are. You're not Y/N Y/L/N; you're Y/N Potter. But one particular wizard was against you reuniting with your little brother when you found out just who he was. In the end, you're determined to see him even if it means fighting in a war where a Dark Lord would see your brother dead.

Words: 7.2K Warnings: This is a very brief Marvel/HP crossover and some characters who've died in HP will not be dead in this. I'm a sucker for a few wizards that didn't make it to the see the end of the war. Luckily for me, I can make that happen ;) So with that said, let's just jump right into it. You might be confused, but you'll learn what's happened when Reader explains it to Harry and friends.

Also timelines? What are those? Lol.

Sitting atop the roof of the Sanctum Sanctorum, you're in the middle of meditating when someone clears their throat in order to get your attention. Everyone knows better than to interrupt meditation time unless it's an emergency, so instead of getting angry you crack open an eye to see what's going on.

The Sorcerer Supreme stands before you, his cloak of levitation clasped around his neck and expression carefully guarded as he stares down at you. "I believe it's time."

Those four words are enough to freeze the air in your lungs and bring chaos to your previously emptied mind. On the outside, however, you keep your composure as you slowly stand. "Are you sure?"

"I am." He nods. "I was keeping an eye on things overseas and extremely powerful wards went up not too long ago. However," he adds, "they're in the process of being torn down by the man who wishes the last of your family dead."

You shakily inhale and tersely nod. "I have to go then."

"You do. Go get changed and then meet me back up here. I have a parting gift for you."

Fleeing the rooftop and back inside the Sanctum, you rush towards your room and throw apologies over your shoulders when you accidentally run into people. Then when you get to your room you immediately start to disrobe and pull on the outfit that's been laid out on your bed. The spandex leather pants are easy to maneuver around in, but the red bustier vest that laces up the front is a little off-putting. You are, however, grateful for the red leather coat that goes over it and the fingerless gloves that make you feel less naked. You zip up black knee-high boots and then rush back towards the rooftop where the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth is still awaiting you.

"You'll be going in blind, Miss Potter. You must remember that." You gulp and nod, and mentally urge the Sorcerer Supreme to hurry up and get his warning speech done and over with. "You'll have to be careful when deciding who's friend and who's foe, and be extremely careful that those fighting for your brother don't mistake you for the enemy."

"I know. From what I've read about Deatheaters, they'll most likely be the most deranged looking of the bunch. Also they were dumb enough to let themselves be branded so it shouldn't be too hard to figure out who's who."

"Very well." The Sorcerer Supreme, whose hands had been clasped over his abdomen, puts his right hand forward and then turns it over. "I believe you'll need this. You've earned it." In his palm is what every sorcerer in training calls a Sling Ring- a two finger ring which can open portals to anywhere in the world.

You gasp, but slowly reach forward and grab the bronzed piece of jewelry. Slipping it over your left index and middle fingers, you smile at it before looking back up at the man who had taken you under his wing at the tender age of sixteen. "Thank you, Sorcerer Supreme."

Faintly smiling at you, he says, "I took you in during your rebellious phase and made you into a proper young witch. I believe you can call me Stephen, Miss Potter."

"Then it's Y/N. None of this Miss Potter business anymore." You both chuckle at one another, but then the seriousness of the situation you're about to walk into sinks in. Your smiles both fall and then you're looking towards a spot on the roof where it's empty.

"I got it this time," Stephen says. Raising his left hand and then outstretching his right to trace a circular pattern mid-air, you watch as a portal sparks to life and grows bigger and bigger until it's big enough for a person to fit through. Instead of seeing the New York skyline through the portal, you see a darkened courtyard with various witches and wizards torn between looking at you and looking at something in the sky. "Be safe. Let me know when it's over."

"Yes, sir." You step through the portal, raising your hands when a couple of wands are pointed in your direction. Glancing over your shoulder lets you know the portal has now been closed and you inhale slowly to gather you wits.

"Who are you?" A rather severe looking woman asks, her Scottish accent making you faintly grin. The shorter, redheaded woman at her side narrows her eyes.

"My name is Y/N Potter." And that- that gives them pause and causes their eyes to widen. "My story is a long one- one I'll gladly explain after this war is over. All you need to know right now is that I fight for Harry. I fight for my little brother."

"It's a trick!" The redhead shrilly remarks. "It has to be. We are Harry's only family."

You shake your head. "Lady, I swear upon my magic that I'm telling the truth. I was taken and then forbidden from contacting my brother by Albus Dumbledore when I found out who I was. I was learning to manifest my magic without a wand when I heard of his death, but by the time I tracked down Harry he had gone on the run."

"Albus would never-"

"Molly," the other woman cuts her off, her wand slowly lowering, "she looks like Lily."

Still in denial, Molly shakes her head. "No, Minerva. It can't be."

"We can talk all night, ma'am, but I rather help you defeat this threat. After we win this war, I'll answer anything and everything you have for me. You can take my memories, you can pour Veritaserum down my throat. I am who I say I am. I am the eldest child of Lily and James Potter."

The redhead continues to stare you down before her own wand starts to lower. She huffs. "Very well. But if I see you harm one person from the Light, I will hex you."

Your lips twitch. "Fair enough." The brief reprieve, however, is short lived. There's a thundering explosion, followed by eerie silence, and then what looks like blue ash falling down upon your heads.

Minerva gulps. "The wards have fallen. Prepare for battle."

Rolling your shoulders, you step so your feet are shoulder's width apart. "Ma'am, I've been preparing a while for this." Your hands glow red and both women's eyes widen at the sight.

Thundering footsteps has you turning towards a bridge being protected by what appears to be stone statues, and the appearance of giants rushing ahead of hollering witches and wizards churn your stomach. Some of those witches and wizards seem to jump into the air, their bodies twisting into balls of smoke as they fly overhead. So concentrating on them since they appear to be flying towards the school, you alternately flick your hands upward, aiming red orbs at each deatheater you can to stun them out of the sky.

Then when there appears to be too many to hit at once, you allow your magic to pool in your hands before raising your arms, throwing up a red net of magic and capturing several deatheaters at once before slamming them towards the ground.

"Filius!" Minerva screams.

Looking towards where the distraught witch is staring, you watch as a small wizard tries to outrun a giant swinging around a quidditch loop as a weapon. Eyes widening, you reach out with your glowing left hand and envelop the small wizard with your magic, slowly pulling back your left arm while erecting a shield with your right hand behind the wizard's back to protect him from ricocheting spells and debris.

The wizard yelps as you bring him in a little too quickly, but you manage to carefully set him down. He wobbles on his feet and stares up at you in wonder. "T-Thank you."

You grin down at him. "No problem." Then looking at Minerva, you ask, "Where do you want me?"

But Minerva is looking at you in awe herself, so it's Molly who says, "Inside. Protect the children."

"I'll do my best."

More deatheaters take flight overhead, and when you hear glass shatter and screaming children all bets are off. Your hands glow even redder and you briefly raise your hands before thrusting them downward, projecting your magic towards the ground so it'd propel you into flight. You make your entrance through a shattered window, using your magic to soften your landing before stunning deatheaters left and right. Though the second you see a deatheater cast the killing curse at kids younger than you, you switch up tactics and don't bother feeling any remorse when your spells make precise gashes that leave the deatheaters gasping for breath before collapsing in a pool of their own blood.

Other curses you fling around wrap chains around deatheaters, cause thousands of tiny nicks, or fling them into the nearest hard surface to knock them unconscious. Or worse, but you don't really care at the moment. And if you don't have an enemy of your own to fight, you're erecting shields to protect the students from being cursed themselves.

Majority of the kids, however, seem to know what they're doing so you run around the castle to see where aid is needed.

You come across two wizards who are fighting back to back, the shorter and darker haired wizard laughing and trying to reminisce with the taller and sandy brown haired wizard as the deatheaters start to outnumber them. You don't think before throwing a large red orb at a group of three deatheaters, knocking them unconscious as they're flung a good ten feet away. Then gathering enough magic for another orb, you fling it towards the other group of five deatheaters. When they fall, the two wizards stare at you in surprise.

You meet their gazes head on, something about the man with three scars running diagonally across his face almost familiar to you. But now is not the time to wonder about all that, so you merely grin. "You're welcome. In case you haven't noticed, there's a war going on. Try to keep up, yeah?" Then without another word, you take off and leave the two wizards staring after you and wondering why you yourself were so achingly familiar to them.

Dodging curses and flinging random spells of your own at unsuspecting deatheaters, you come upon another set of wizards being outnumbered by deatheaters yet again. Only these two could pass for brothers and one is cracking a joke about the deatheater he's dueling while the other one is hilariously proud of him for finally unknotting his wand.

There's a split second of distraction on their part, but that split second is all one angry deatheater needs.

"BOMBARDA!"

"Watch out!" You manage to throw up a red barrier behind the two laughing wizards' backs just in the nick of time.

You catch the exploding wall from crumbling on them, but at the cost of suddenly putting yourself under a magical strain that has you barely being able to hold the wall of debris at bay. You're struggling, hoping the two wizards collect themselves fast enough to have the smarts to move out of the way, only to end up distracted and take some sort of hex to your right side. The searing heat makes you scream out, your concentration breaking and the wall dropping. Thankfully, the two wizards you had saved jump back into action to dispatch the deatheaters before checking on you.

"That was a bloody close call," the taller redhead muses. "We owe you one, love."

You smile through the pain, your left hand reaching across your stomach to hold the wound on your right side. "Don't mention it."

The second redhead stares curiously at you. "How did you do that? I've never seen magic performed like that without a wand."

"Aw come on, Perce!" The previous redhead chuckles, slinging an arm around this so-called Perce's shoulders. "Turn that brain of yours off for mo'. A pretty bird just saved our arses." You smile sheepishly, mentally cursing yourself for blushing. The talkative redhead wiggles his eyebrows and you huff in amusement at him. "I'm Fred Weasley, by the way. And this is one of my older brothers Percy."

"Y/N. Y/N Potter." Both wizards freeze, their expressions falling and you hesitantly grin. "Yep. I'm exactly one of those Potters that you're thinking about."

Percy blinks first. "Impossible. The Potters only had one child."

"Surprise," you muse. "It's a girl!" When neither wizard reacts, you exhale tiredly. "I only found out I was a Potter when I was sixteen. I tried to get in contact with Harry, but I was prevented from doing so. However, I'm here now and I don't plan to let the same dark wizard who killed my parents and ruin my life now kill my little brother. We have loads to catch up on and I'll be damned if I let some arsehole off Harry before I have the chance to meet him."

Fred appears as if he's going to say something, but an eerie ringing fills your ears. Your hands fly up to hold your ears as if that'll stop the noise, but when you stumble back into a wall and glance up you see that Percy and Fred are affected as well if their grimaces and terrified expressions are anything to go by.

"You have fought valiantly, but in vain." The hissing voice that enters your mind makes gooseflesh break out up and down your arms, your eyes widening in horror when you realize who it is. "I do not wish this. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a terrible waste. I therefore command my forces to retreat. In their absence, dispose of your dead with dignity." You choke back a sob, not used to having someone violate your mind as such. "Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you." But that- that catches your attention and forces you to pay attention. "On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonor. Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman, and child who tries to conceal you from me."

When your mind is completely silent once more, you lower your hands and stare at the two wizards before you. "Please tell me Harry isn't dumb enough to confront this psycho." Fred and Percy stay quiet, but they share a nervous glance at one another. You curse. "I need to find him."

"Everyone will be gathering in the Great Hall," Percy says. "We'll take you there and have you looked at."

He gestures to your side and when you glance down you can see a rather sleek looking stain running down your thigh. "Oh."

Your knees seem to give then, but Fred is quick to catch you. "There, there," he chuckles. "I know I'm handsome, but you can't swoon until you've met my twin."

You shakily smile. "You mean there's two of you? How does your mum survive?"

Fred laughs as Percy shakes his head. "By loads of threats and hexes. Now come on, we need to regroup."

Fred and Percy manage to maneuver your arms around the back of their necks as they help you walk now that you're starting to feel the effects of blood loss. There are many dead witches and wizards, and it hurts your heart to see so many young faces among them. The others are bloodied and beaten, but all are doing their best to help their peers.

When you walk into the Great Hall, it's an even worse sight. Bodies are being dragged in and laid out to be checked over, and kids are breaking down over everything that's happened. Fred and Percy continue to lead you towards a specific spot, and it takes you a moment to realize that the wizards are leading you towards a clearly distraught Molly. She's checking over a young redheaded girl before moving onto the next redhead, and it's Fred's nearly identical twin that spots you three first. The relief on his face is heartbreaking and you politely extricate yourself as the family rush over to reunite.

"Hey, mum," Fred says after everyone's been checked over by their fussing mother. "Y/N found us and took a hex while saving our bums. I think she needs a healing spell. Or three."

"A blood replenishing potion would be nice," you mumble before drowsily dropping onto a bench.

Molly rushes over to you while Fred and Percy obviously fill in the others, and the redheaded girl's eyes widen after hearing something they say before she rushes to help her mum. She quickly introduces herself as Ginny and you smile as best as you can while Molly waves her wand up and down you.

"I need your coat and shirt off, dearie."

You grimace and open your jacket so she can see your top underneath. "I'm afraid I'll have to get naked for that, ma'am."

Molly purses her lips before glancing at her daughter. "Ginny, transfigure Y/N a shirt please." She then turns to the men of her family. "Boys, I'm going to need you all to give us some room."

Your heart warms as Molly conjures a privacy curtain and gestures for you to step behind it. You do and then proceed to strip out of your jacket. When you struggle with your top, Ginny vanishes it with a sheepish smile and averts her gaze as she quickly hands you a shirt. You put it on, but then Molly is there at your side to lift it to see the gash on your right side. She tuts.

"I'll be right back. I'll have to go see if Madam Pomfrey has any potions for this."

"Wait," you tell her. "Just a blood replenisher will do. I can take care of this." She opens her mouth to retort, but you let your hand glow in front of her. "Different, remember? I can close the wound myself."

Ginny stares in awe as you hold your shirt up with one hand, your other hand hovering above your wound as your fingers dance in an intricate pattern so your magic closes the gash. Once done, you nod at Molly and she huffs in amusement before turning. Then with a flick of her wand, the privacy curtain vanishes and she scuttles off to go see about that potion. Ginny guides you to a bench, but just as you take a seat there's two wizards stumbling towards you. They're the first set of men you saved, one with shaggy dark hair and the other with sandy brown hair, and they're staring at you in clear disbelief.

"Lily?"

You frown just as all the Weasley's freeze. "I'm sorry?"

The dark haired wizard blinks, shaking his head clear. "I'm sorry, love. You just reminded me of-"

"Cub?"

Your gaze darts to the sandy haired wizard now, his shorter companion shaking his head. "Come on, Moony. I think we hit our heads a little too hard."

Cub. Moony. The nicknames strike a chord within you, but you're not exactly sure why. Your brow furrows as you try to pinpoint a dream- or was it a memory?- and between one blink and the next it hits you. "Paddy." You utter in awe as you eye the dark haired wizard, watching as he gapes at you. Slowly standing, you then look at the other wizard. "Uncle Moony. I- I remember you. I think. Toy broom. Broken vase. Accidental.. fire?"

The one you had called Paddy snorts and Moony exhales in disbelief. "H-how?"

"Dumbledore," you immediately answer. "But.. I dreamt that, didn't I? You- I'd have been too little to remember anything."

"No, Cub. You didn't." Moony steps forward and gently touches your face in awe. "Sirius and James, your dad, thought it was a good idea to get you a toy broom. You flew into a vase, broke it, and let loose some accidental magic when your mum started shrieking at them."

"That was a mighty big fire. Remus almost soiled his trousers."

Sirius and Remus. Yes, that sounded awfully familiar.

The tears come without warning and you fling yourself at them, content to find yourself sandwiched between the two wizards. They're more shocked than anything, so after a moment the Weasley's step forward.

"So she really is Harry's sister?" Fred asks. Sirius and Remus nod. "Blimey. We now have two Potters to keep an eye on."

"Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen," an older red headed wizard steps forward, someone you assume to be the Weasley father, "but how did you not know Miss Potter was still alive?"

"Dumbledore," they both say.

"I was obviously thrown into Azkaban," Sirius says. "None of my questions were answered when I asked about the children."

"We didn't even ask to see the bodies," Remus mumbles. "We just took Dumbledore's word for it. And since Harry was too small to remember, we never brought up the memory of Y/N since no one would have known of her." You take turns hugging each wizard, lingering a little longer with Remus. When he pulls out of the big, he smiles down at you. "You look like your mum."

"And you," you reach up to gently trace one of his scars, "got old." Sirius guffaws and when you finally turn around, it feels as if all the wind is sucked out of your lungs.

"You're here." Harry says as stands before you, covered in blood, sweat and dirt.

Everyone seems to hold their breath, taking a step back as you and Harry stare at one another. You blink. "You know who I am?"

He numbly nods. "Only from Snape's memories. He wanted me to know what he knew before he died. He was not happy with Dumbledore's decision after he found out you were alive and sent to America." He pauses just to stare and you sheepishly smile, then the two of you are lunging for one another. Arms wrapped around each other, you bite back a whimper when your side twinges with phantom pains. Seconds tick by and then you hear him ask, "Walk with me?"

You nod, afraid to speak and your voice crack with emotion. Side by side, you follow Harry just outside the Great Hall where a witch and wizard stare in surprise but keep their distance. Your brother quickly informs you that they're his best friends Ron and Hermione.

"It took me a long while, Harry, but I finally caught up with you," you say as he finally stops.

He huffs a quiet laugh. "You did." He then turns so he's standing right in front of you, his hands reaching for yours and holding on gently. "I'm just sorry it has to be so short lived."

Your expression falters at his words. "What?" He lets you go, stepping back with a mumbled apology. "No." Immediately you know what he plans to do and you stumble forward to attempt to catch him. "No, you're not turning yourself over."

"I have to."

"No. I'll- I'll go with you!" You start to cry again, chest aching. You just found your little brother; you can't lose him so soon.

Harry smiles sadly, a lone tear falling down his cheek. "I'm sorry. Ron and Hermione will watch over you until I get back."

"Please don't." Harry backpedals quickly now, giving you his back so he can take his leave. You try to follow, but your vision swims and the room seems to tilt. You collapse, blinking rapidly to clear your vision. "No. No, Harry." You cry some more, reaching out for your brother. "Please don't leave me."

Harry's steps falter but he pushes on and the moment he disappears from view you scream out in anguish. There seems to be a pressure on your chest, but that pressure seems to lessen as you scream. You're barely coherent enough to see a faint wisp of red shoot out from you in every direction, and are conscious long enough to hear someone mutter bloody hell before passing out.

- - - - - - - - - -

You jolt awake, but you're not sure what's woken you. As you blink up at the ceiling, you realize it's eerily quiet. So letting your head lull to the side, you blink against the brightness of the room and realize you're alone. You're alone with the dead.

Sitting up with a groan, you glance around to see that everyone is gone. But there are voices.. and laughter? Instantly, an uncomfortable feeling settles in the pit of your stomach.

Shakily standing, you walk as fast as you can towards the entrance to the Great Hall and swallow down the bile trying to creep it's way up your throat. You stumble out the front enterance, shoving passed the small gathered crowd. Someone's giving a speech and across the courtyard there is a sea of black and- and you're going to be sick. The bald, gray skinned man must be who attempted to end the Potter line so long ago. Voldemort.

"Y/N. Y/N, wait!"

With the sea of deatheaters, just off to the side of them, there seems to be a half giant carrying a body. A body which is wearing suspiciously familiar clothing. Hands catch you by the arms, holding you back when you realize who it is the half giant is carrying, and your knees buckle. You whimper, but the voices on either side of you attempt to soothe you. When you chance a glance at them, you realize it's Fred and George.

Voldemort asks for the Light to pledge their loyalty to him, but only a single wizard stumbles forward. Neville Longbottom, he says his name is, and even as the deatheaters make fun of him the boy manages to give a heartwarming speech about none of their friends or family dying in vain. But as the hurt and sadness ebbs away, rage takes its place.

You can feel a pressure in your chest forming again and the hands on you fall away with hisses of pain. It seems as if you have tunnel vision as you stumble forward, Neville's speech falling on deaf ears. You can hear whispers of awe all around, but you only have eyes for Voldemort as his manic smile slowly starts to fall upon seeing you. Neville pulls free a sword from a crumpled hat, but still you stumble forward.

Your wrists are slowly rotating now and you sneer as Voldemort's followers seem to stare at you with trepidation. "You took everything from me," you grit out.

Voldemort starts to smile upon hearing the pain in your voice. "My dear, I don't even know who you are."

"You will." Debris from the half demolished castle starts to gather all around you as if being pulled by a magnet, forming two large balls of concrete on either side of you. Then with a deep breath, you feel the ground beneath your feet vanish as everyone around you gasps in surprise. "You were always going to die by the hands of a Potter. It's just too bad it couldn't have been my brother who ended you."

"Potter," Voldemort hisses angrily.

"In the flesh."

You slowly raise your hands, the balls of debris rising higher, but before you can catapult them Harry is dropping from the half-giant's arms. You feel your magic waver at the sudden relief that washes over you, but then Harry's firing a spell at a giant snake and Voldemort is firing back at him. There's cheering and then before the deatheaters can start fleeing, you fling the balls of debris at them one after the other.

You fall back to your feet, erecting shields to cover the backs of the witches and wizards rushing back into the castle. Then once back into the school all bets are off and all your hexes turn deadly. But your rage clouds your ability to multitask and you don't see the deatheater creeping up on you in time. Chains wrap around your throat, wrapping tighter and tighter as your fingers claw to pull it off. There's crazed laughter somewhere behind you and you don't even have the opportunity to see who was responsible before the chains loosen and they are being pulled off.

"There, there, cub. You're alright now." As you're pulled to your feet, relief floods you at the sight of Remus. "It's going to be okay." You're quick to hug him, crying softly as the side of your face presses against his chest.

A battle cry pulls your and Remus' attention towards it, and you watch as Neville beheads the large snake you had seen Harry firing spells at earlier. It seems to go quiet inside the castle after that, the deatheaters lowering their wands in shock. A moment later a cheer erupts from outside and the remaining deatheaters inside hiss as they clutch at their inner arms before fleeing altogether. Luckily, some are detained before they can go anywhere.

"Did we- did we just win?"

"Yeah, cub. I think we just did."

"Remus!" The two of you turn towards the joyous shout and you quickly step back when a woman throws herself into his arms. You smile at the reunion, heart aching at the relief and joy in your uncle's features as he hugs the woman tightly before sharing a chaste kiss with her.

Afterwards, he pulls back and turns towards you. The woman follows his gaze and she smiles kindly. "Tonks, I want to introduce you to the Potters eldest child." She gasps. "My goddaughter Y/N. Y/N, this is my wife Tonks."

You smile sheepishly. "Hullo."

"Another Potter," she breathes in awe. "Wicked."

You watch as her mousy brown hair turns a vibrant pink and you laugh as you gesture to it. "I think that's pretty wicked."

"You think so?" She muses. "Our son has the same ability and he's only a day old."

"Your son?" Your now widened eyes dart to Remus. "You have a son and you're still here?! Go!"

"Y/N.."

"No. Don't," you say. "I'm home, Moony. For good. Go to your son while I go find my brother. I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay." He steps forward to hug you. "I'll see you soon."

"Yes you will."

After Remus lets go, his wife Tonks steps in and hugs you as well. Surprised, you laugh and return the brief embrace. "See you soon, kid. Can't wait to get to know you."

"You as well," you say.

As the couple takes their leave, all you can do is look around at the demolished school and the witches and wizards as some of them have a meltdown. You spot a couple of the Weasleys celebrating the win as Molly looks on with a smile she's quick to smother when her sons point it out. Then heading for the entrance, your shoulders sag in relief when you spot Sirius coming in.

"Paddy!" Your shout garners his attention and you quickly make a beeline for him. "Have you seen Harry?"

"Yeah, pup. He's out on the bridge."

"Thanks." You quickly lean up and kiss his cheek. "We'll catch up later."

Making your way outside, your heart aches at seeing the ruins of what was clearly a magnificent school. You spot the bridge Sirius spoke of and spy your brother tossing something across the open air, only to fall down and be lost forever. His friends Ron and Hermione spot you first, the two of them offering you smiles as you approach.

Harry turns and smiles upon seeing you- a smile which you return, but then your expression goes lax as you slap at his arms one hit after the other. "If-" Hit. "You-" Hit. "Ever do that again.."

"Blimey, she really is a Potter."

"Ron, shush!"

"Hey. Hey!" Harry is quick to defend himself, catching you by the wrist so you stop hitting him. "I'm okay. It's over."

Your chest is heaving, your breathing stuttering as a sob threatens to break free. Tears silently fall before the fight drains out of you and you throw your arms around your little brother's neck. "I just found you, you dunghole. You're not allowed to die first."

Harry chuckles. "I'll do my best." As he pulls out of the hug, his hands remain on your biceps as he grins. "Did you know your eyes glow when you're angry?"

You frown, but before you can answer his friend Hermione is speaking up. "About that.. how is it your magic manifests like that without a wand? Earlier when Harry left to meet Voldemort, you fell to your knees in grief and there was- well it was like-"

"An explosion," Ron says. "Made me and 'Mione stumble some. We had to carry you back into the Great Hall where Remus and Sirius nearly lost it."

You cringe. "Sorry about that. I, uh, I actually used to have a wand until the MACUSA snapped it."

"They what!?" Harry asks incredulously.

"Yeah. School-aged Americans are quite savage," you huff. When the other three don't crack even the smallest of grins, you sigh and explain. "I got picked on quite a lot, but it was never anything that caused harm. Just some stupid pranks that embarrassed me," you say. "When I was sixteen, the pranks turned harmful. Two students caught me in a duel and when one of their hexes sliced my cheek I thought nothing of it. It wasn't until the sight of my blood made them proud and then duel even harder did my magic lash out when I was failing to protect myself. I.. I killed someone." Hermione gasps, but no one dares to say a word. "It was an accident and the Professors knew it because they'd witnessed countless attacks on me, but the government gives no second chances. So my wand was snapped and I was kicked out of the magical community over there."

"But that's preposterous!" Hermione nearly screeches. "You were a child!"

"I was a witch who killed a fellow witch." You shrug. "Apparently the American government is not very forgiving." Harry reaches for your hand then, squeezing it to show his support in you.

"So what happened?" Ron wonders. "You had to have some form of schooling to be so in control of your magic now."

"I ended up in a muggle orphanage after feigning amnesia. I spent months without casting and well.. my magic had to go somewhere," you tell him. "I had a few outbursts and my outbursts were picked up on by the Sorcerer Supreme."

Hermione seems to perk up at that. "I've never heard of that term before."

"You wouldn't have." Smiling fondly, you continue to tell them about the man who changed your life. "All around the world there are sorcerers, but instead of using a wand they master what they call a Sling Ring." You pause just long enough to flash them the ring before summoning a basic shield on both hands. "There's a hidden community of sorcerers in every country, but only one Sorcerer Supreme. He happened to find me when the outbursts kept happening and showed me a different way to manifest my magic before showing me how to master theirs."

"Wicked," Ron breathes in awe.

"Did you- did you ever look for me?" Harry wonders. His small voice makes your heart ache.

"I did." You smile sadly. "Not at first because of Albus' manipulations, but when I found out I was a Potter and had a baby brother out there, the Sorcerer Supreme tracked you down. Albus refused to reunite us and the Sorcerer Supreme did not want to start a war with the Wizarding community."

"But Dumbledore died some time ago." Ron frowns. "Why didn't you try then?"

"I did," here you huff out a brief laugh, "but some rebellious little shits decided to flee and jumpstart a war." All three blush at your words and you reach up to ruffle Harry's hair. "But what matters most is that I'm here now and no one is keeping the Potter heirs separated any longer."

The following couple of weeks proved to be both mentally and physically draining. Besides all the funerals, you lost count of how many times you told your story and felt sick to your stomach when a few would not take Remus or Sirius' words that you were who you said you were. The main thing some could not understand was why Lily would hide her first pregnancy, but it was your godfather and Sirius who told everyone that it was James' dad who made the decision to hide the pregnancy and then even longer after you were born since you were the first female Potter in quite some time. Apparently you were such a well kept secret that not even Dumbledore knew of your existence until he had sent you off and told those who knew you that you had died that fateful night in Godric's Hollow.

Sadly, it was only after a blood test done by a trusted Healer at St. Mungos did everyone finally believe. It was a relief to not be questioned, but then came the daunting task of fixing up Godric's Hollow so it wasn't such a terrible shrine to the worst night of your and Harry's life, and then reopening Potter Manor. But until the real work began, all you wanted to do was spend time with your brother and thankfully Sirius had room for the two of you to stay with him.

Waking up one morning, you frown when you hear a little bit of a racket. It doesn't appear to be a worrisome sounding racket when you stick your head out the bedroom door, so you take the time to freshen yourself up in the bathroom and make sure you're decent for whatever company is downstairs.

Tiptoeing downstairs, you hold your breath as you pass the covered portrait of Sirius' mum less you wake the old hag up and have her screeching for hours. Then pushing the swinging door open, you smile at the sight of Molly Weasley at the stove and her twin sons chatting back and forth with Sirius.

You spot your brother several seats down from them and enter the kitchen to sit down next to him. He smiles when he sees you and you nudge his arm when you're finally seated. "What's going on?"

"Molly wanted to make us breakfast and to make sure Sirius was taking care of us properly. Your boyfriends tagged along and were being too nosy for her liking."

You huff a laugh. "Not my boyfriends."

"At least not yet."

You roll your eyes, grinning at your brother before nudging him again. The twins had taken a shine to you and it's something everyone found quite hilarious. Their flirtatious behavior was nothing serious, but you were grateful that they accepted you so quickly.

Plates full of scrambled eggs, hash browns, sausages, bacon and grilled tomatoes are floated over, followed by a jar of marmalade and a pitcher of orange juice. Molly then brings over a stack of buttered toast and happily pats you and Harry on the shoulders. "Alright, my dears. Dig in. Boys!" She then calls. "To the floo. Let Sirius, Harry, and Y/N eat in peace."

"But mum-" Fred whines.

"-we haven't seen Y/N in ages," George finishes.

Sirius grins as you scoff. "First off, you boys haven't even said hello to me since I walked into the kitchen. And second it's only been three days."

"And that is a terrible mistake on our part," Fred says as he scoots down the bench you're seated on, slinging his arm around your shoulders and smooching you loudly on the cheek. "Hello, love."

"Fred Weasley!" Molly whacks her son upside the head and Harry snorts out the orange juice he'd been sipping. "You leave Miss Potter alone and get going. You too, George."

Sirius laughs as the boys pout but do as they're told. You wink and blow George a kiss who proceeds to pretend he catches it and then pockets it. Laughing, you shake your head in amusement before looking up at their mum. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, for the delicious looking breakfast. I didn't know how much longer I could pretend that Kreacher's breakfast was good."

Molly beams, but before she could reply Sirius is huffing. "That dreary old bat just needs to be put out of his misery."

"Oh Sirius, be nice. I'm sure he's not all that bad," Molly admonishes him. You, Harry, and Sirius all snort and she tuts at all three of you, but you and Harry are the only two to grin apologetically at her. "Well if that's all, I shall be going. I'll see you three for dinner."

"No, no. This'll be all for today, Molly," Sirius assures her. "The kids are going to start reclaiming what is rightfully theirs today. We'll most likely swing by Tom's tonight."

"Well alright." Molly pats you and Harry on the shoulder one last time. "I wish you two the best."

After Molly whisks her sons back home, the three of you left at the table enjoy the breakfast she had cooked up. Halfway through Remus shows up and plops down on the opposite side of you, stealing food from your plate as he makes small talk with Sirius in between bites.

Once the food is gone and Sirius has summoned Kreacher to clear the table, all the attention is on you and Harry.

"So what's the plan, cub? Are you really going to demolish Godric's Hollow and rebuild?"

"Yes," you answer Remus. "I don't know about everyone else, but I believe it's a disgrace to mum and dad's memory that the home they were murdered in was left as is as some sort of memorial. It's sick," you say. "If they wanted to memorialize it, then a picture should have been taken to be put in a history book or a plaque be put up.

"Do you plan to live there?" Harry asks. "Because I can't see myself making a home where my earliest memory is of mum screaming as Voldemort threatened her."

"Oh Harry." Under the table you reach for your brother's hand, squeezing it in comfort. "I'm sorry you have to live with that. But yes, I'll take Godric's Hollow. Potter Manor is always passed to the male heir anyway, so you don't have to worry about it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I don't remember anything from that night, and even though I know mum and dad died there I believe in making happy memories where they once lived. I think they'd like that."

He smiles. "Me too."

"Aww! Would you look at that," Sirius coos. "Seeing the two of you together, James and Lily would be proud."

"'Course they would," you muse, releasing Harry's hand and then slinging your arm around the back of his neck to bring him in closer while touching your temple to his. "We're adorable."

"Humble too," Remus huffs, pinching your cheek. He laughs when you swat at him. "So are you two ready? It's going to be quite the tiring day."

You and Harry glance at one another, sobering up some and nodding. "Let's get to it."

#harry potter imagine #hp imagine #hp gen fic x reader #harry potter #minerva mcgonagall #molly weasley #fred weasley #percy weasley #remus lupin #sirius black #stephen strange #marvel #doctor strange

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sserpente · 4 years

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A/N: I’m baaaack! This Imagine was requested by @procrastinatinglikeabitch, @fandom-rpblog, @sparxgal and three anons!

Words: 4003 Warnings: smut, more or less, angst and fluff

Your heart leaped into your throat when Loki entered the room, the empty space between you instantly filling with sexual tension and unspoken words when his blue eyes met yours. He gazed at you intently for a moment before making his way over to the large dining area where Thor was already sat drinking a huge pint.

Disappointed, though you could not put your finger on why, your own eyes wandered back to your phone. It was better this way, you kept reminding yourself. Loki was too much of a distraction. Sooner or later, you would get yourself in danger—or worse, you would get him in danger. Being a SHIELD agent, or a member of the Avengers or whatever the hell it was you were, you could not afford loving the God of Mischief. Who were you kidding? Breaking up with Loki, even though he had despised you calling him your boyfriend, had not changed your feelings for him. Your relationship had been but a secret, the adopted Stark girl attracted to mischief, malice and tricks.

When you closed your eyes, you could still feel his cool fingertips ghosting over your skin, leaving trails of goose bumps behind. You could still taste his soft lips on yours, stealing gentle but demanding kisses. You were the first one to understand him, he had said. But you had not been the first one to break his heart. He had snorted upon you asking to remain friends—and you had not properly spoken since. It was better this way. Well, in fact, you had been avoiding him, dismissing any looming conversation and keeping safe from the way your body reacted to his.

You knew that when your vision became blurry and your phone screen transformed into a bright dot before your eyes that you should excuse yourself and barricade yourself in your room to cry. Perhaps you had no right to mourn what you had had, despite it being an utter secret. You had hurt him. You had pushed him away for seemingly no reason. It was better this way.

You still remembered how you had met. The reason Loki had bothered to take a proper look at you. Your parents—your real parents—had been historians who specialised in the Viking Culture and Norse Mythology. They had named you after Sigyn, Loki’s wife; and when Tony Stark, the man who had adopted you after your parents died in a tragic accident, introduced you to the team—among them Loki, who had been brought back to Earth as punishment for his deeds to support Thor—his stunning blue eyes had, almost unnoticeably, widened.

You did not actually go by the name Sigyn anymore. It was too complicated to spell, let alone pronounce. But ever since then, Loki had been drawn to you and you… you had been drawn to him. You would never know what kinds of secrets your parents had kept from you or what meaning there was behind your name. There was magic between you—and now, you had ruined it.

For a few precious minutes, it was utterly quiet, with only your clock on the wall ticking away peacefully and letting you sulk pathetically, your face against the pillow. When someone knocked on your door, you elected to ignore it—right until the intruder simply let himself in.

“Go away!”

“Last time you were mesmerised by that trick.”

Your eyes widened. You turned over vigorously to find Stephen Strange standing before your bed, seemingly having floated right through the closed door. His red cape was flowing behind him like a red river. You waved back at it when it raised a corner to say hello.

“Stephen! Oh my God, when did you get back?” Growing up, you had loved sci-fi films and of course, Doctor Who. Travelling to different dimensions and universes wasn’t just exciting, it was breath-taking. Needless to say, you had soon taken a liking into the New York-based sorcerer. His magic was nothing compared to Loki’s but Stephen had quickly become one of your best friends—it was a notion Loki wasn’t particularly fond of. It would be even worse now that you both… no, in fact, it had just been you who had decided to break up for good.

“Just now. Are you gonna tell me why you’re acting like a teenager?”

“I… rough day. Tell me everything. Where did you go? Did you bring me a souvenir?” It would be a little unfair to use Stephen as a distraction from your misery. But you were desperate. And desperate times called for desperate measures.

Two and half hours later, Stephen became too hungry and thirsty to keep telling you his tales. You both made your way back to the kitchen to grab something to eat, hoping you would not run into Loki. He hated the ‘second-rate-wizard’ as was—and there was no reason to tickle a sleeping dragon.

Fortunately, you only ran into Tony instead. “I was looking for you,” he stated, opening a coke can he took from the fridge, “We have to talk. There has been another attack in New Jersey.”

“Another one? That’s the third one this month.”

“Yep. Thor believes it has something to do with the Chitauri… at least that’s what the damage looks like their weapons left behind. We are meeting in the living room in ten minutes.”

You sighed, nodding defeated. Another mission then. As long as you didn’t have to spend time with Loki…

“And you? What have you been up to lately?” Stephen asked as soon as Tony was gone.

“Nothing at all.” You replied. He raised an eyebrow.

“That answer came a little too fast. Are you sure everything is alright?”

“Hmm. Yes, of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

You gave him a fake smile—one which froze on your face when, a few minutes later, you strolled into the living room and spotted Loki already sitting in your favourite chair. You swallowed thickly, remembering this one time the Avengers had been out at a party somewhere in Hungary and Loki and you had stayed home. You had ended up on his lap naked after taking a shower, fucking right there and then on that bloody black leather armchair.

He remembered it too. The corners of his thin lips barely moved, his smirk invisible to everyone but you. After a few heartbeats, he acknowledged Stephen’s existence.

“Loki.” He said politely.

“Strange.” Loki snarled in response.

Tony took twenty minutes to explain the situation and fill you in on the details and then proposed the plan he had been working on with Thor and Bruce.

“…who will bypass the security system and get us inside.“ You were barely listening, only stealing quick and furtive glances at Loki. “In the meantime, (Y/N) and Loki give themselves access from the south side of the facility and make sure we’re not running into a trap or a handful of soldiers.” Your eyes widened.

“We can’t! I mean… why me and Loki?” Tony frowned.

“Why not? I hate to say this but Loki actually listens to you, besides, the two of you have always made a good team on missions. You help us get inside safely, we take care of the rest. And I don’t want you in the line of fire, (Y/N).”

Growling, you leaned back and crossed your arms before your chest. This was a bad idea. You certainly did not want to endanger anyone because you would be unable to concentrate in his presence. Not to mention that Loki was rather resentful. He would make use of the opportunity and try and lure you back in only to pounce once you felt safe enough, knowing exactly about the impact he made on your body and mind. Perhaps he even knew how much you still loved him. Either that… or would show you the cold shoulder.

“I can take care of myself, Tony.” And regardless what had happened between us, Loki would risk his life to save mine. You could tell by the way his eyebrows rose ever so slightly whenever he laid his eyes upon you. You were still on his mind then, as much as he was on yours.

Suddenly, Loki chuckled darkly, making you blush. You could tell he was oddly amused by this whole situation. Mischief was sparkling in his blue eyes when he looked up, seemingly unaffected by what was happening around him. Thor frowned. It was not unusual he had no clue what was going on.

You sighed once more. It was pointless to argue with him. Tony Stark had developed a strong protective instinct ever since he had adopted you. “Fine then. Can I go to sleep now, Dad?” You asked him scornfully. Tony nodded, overhearing your tone.

“I’ll have FRIDAY wake you up. We’re leaving before dawn.”

Flight. That was your first instinct. Stephen was already suspicious and you would do good to avoid any more nosey questions. If only you could throw yourself into Loki’s arms and show them just how much you loved working with him. You scoffed to yourself as you marched through the dark hallway.

“It seems you have already found yourself a new sorcerer.” Loki snarled with a start, appearing behind seemingly out of nowhere. You froze, your hand only inches away from your door knob.

“W-we’re just friends, Loki, you know that.” Your heart began to pound. Shit, after all, this was the first time you were properly conversing again after weeks. Your voice was shaky—and you were certain it did not go unnoticed. Loki knew you, your body and your reactions better than you did yourself.

“Yes,” he retorted mockingly. “I know that.” He paused. “It must be unbearably terrible then to work with me instead of him.”

“That’s not… you know that’s not why.” Loki snorted bitterly.

“Of course it isn’t. Tell me, have you been suffering since you ended our relationship? Have you been missing me, my touch… our conversations?” He would never say it, never out loud—never admit in how much pain he was. Instead, he decided to show you. “Do you miss this?”

Cornering you, he stepped closer until your back hit the cold wall, forcing you to lift your chin up to meet his blue eyes.

“Loki, stop. We ended this. We can’t…”

“We can. You need this as much as I do, do you not?” You could practically taste his breath on your lips by now. Loki inched even closer to you, pressing you against the wall. Any moment now, another Avenger could turn around the corner. It was dark but still…

“N-no…”

“No? Why are not pushing me away then?” You could feel his erection against your pubic bone. Loki bucked his hips, demonstrating you what you were missing out on. Your body was ablaze, every cell longing for his touch and the sweet release only he could give you.

“Please don’t…” Don’t what? Don’t continue? Don’t… stop?

“Hmm… that sounds awfully like this one time you begged me to play the evil villain capturing a young and innocent maiden… the perfect toy to make an even more perfect little pleasure slave.” He purred.

Your walls clenched upon his seductive words. Unceremoniously, and ignoring your half-hearted protests, he slid his hands under your thighs and lifted you up so you were trapped between his strong body and the wall, your heated centre resting snugly against his crotch. A moan escaped your lips when he rubbed himself against your lips, his forehead coming to rest against yours.

Loki knew exactly what buttons to press. Biting your lower lip, you stifled another moan when he cupped your left breast and squeezed it lightly, applying just enough pressure to turn you to putty beneath his touches all the while his other hand wrapped around your threat to remind you, in the most seductive and delicious way, who was in charge. Every blissful thrust of his against your most intimate body part, albeit still clothed, drove you closer and closer to orgasm. If he kept going like this… he would make you come undone for him right here in this hallway. God, where there any cameras nearby? Tony would get a heart attack if he decided to view the footage tomorrow…

But you did not get a chance to protest. Loki’s lips came crushing down on yours, capturing you for a passionate kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting you until you gave in and dug your fingernails into his shoulders. Faster and faster, he kept rocking against you, desperate, not only to bring you relief but also to quench his own thirst for a numbing peak of lust.

You wanted, no, needed to feel him without clothes, needed to feel him deep inside of you… “Loki…” You whispered. “Please…”

He shushed you in response, kissing you once more to shut you up. His breathing quickened as he picked up speed, thrusting against you and pampering your sweet nub of pleasure through the disturbing layers of your clothing until you burst into millions of tiny shards, pleasure rippling through you like lightning bolts. Your walls clenched around nothing as you came, soaking your already wet knickers. Panting, you buried your face in his neck, his raven hair tickling your cheek as Loki followed you suit and stilled as his orgasm grabbed a hold of him, shutting down and heightening his senses all at the same time. You could feel him twitching against you, his warm seed, instead of coating your tight walls, staining his leather trousers.

For a few heartbeats, you simply leaned there against the wall, breathing in each other’s presence.

“I am returning to Asgard.” You suddenly heard him say softly. Your head shot up in surprise and shock.

“What? You’re leaving?” He nodded weakly.

“Tomorrow night.”

“You can’t… you can’t just leave m-… What about Odin, what about Thor… what about your punishment?”

Loki scoffed. “My so-called ‘punishment’ ended over two months ago. I stayed because of you. But now, with nothing holding me here… I see no point in spending any more time among a group of meagre mortals who all desperately wait for the day I will not return from a mission.”

“Loki…” You wanted to tell him how this was not true, wanted to tell him that there was something holding him here on Earth. With trembling fingers, you reached up to cup his face. Loki moved back as if stung by an adder. You almost landed on the floor when he let go of your thighs.

“What do I need to do to stop you?”

Back to Asgard. It was in this moment that you realised that you had made a huge mistake with pushing him away from you like that out of worry for what your future might look like; realised the moment his blue eyes full of hurt and longing met yours that you loved him so much you could never possibly imagine a life without him anymore. You only feared that by now… it was too late and Loki had shut you out for good.

“Nothing,” he spat. “Not anymore. This is goodbye, (Y/N).” I just needed to feel and taste you one last time, he, unbeknownst to you, added silently.

You sank to the floor, sobbing, long after he had left, spending what was left of the short night crying yourself to sleep and mourning the loss, probably of the love of your life, which was entirely your fault.

You did not want him to leave. Being apart from Loki within the Avengers’ compound was hard as was… how would it feel once he was back on Asgard, lightyears away from you? What if he found a beautiful princess from another realm who would marry him? What if he forgot you?

Needless to say, you were unrested the next morning, your eyes swollen from your endless streams of tears. You did not join the others in the kitchen for breakfast, instead, sulked about in your room until they were all ready to leave.

How would you ever survive this mission, knowing that after, you would never see him again? What could you possibly say to him to make him stay? Loki had made it very clear to you last night. There was nothing holding him here anymore. He had shut you out just like you had shut him out, kicked him when he was already on the ground.

The only one to blame was you… and you wished for nothing more than to mend his broken heart. Tearing up yet again, you suited up and boarded the helicarrier. The journey would take you to Thailand, to a “secret” facility delivering weapons and armour of alien origins to a few thugs in New Jersey.

No… you would fix this. You would win him back. Loki was positively the best thing that had ever happened to you. You had been naïve, no, stupid to end the relationship because it might distract you from saving the bloody world. There was no world without Loki, was there?

Like the last couple of days, he was avoiding your gaze when you approached him standing next to Thor, observing the rest of the Avengers preparing everything like they were getting ready for a camping trip.

Finally, his blue eyes met yours—and for just the fraction of a second, longing flashed in them.

You looked away quickly when Tony noticed, blushing furiously. But… yes. That was exactly the problem. You kept hiding him, repudiating him. Your heart skipped a beat. Even when you had been together, you had, painstakingly so, kept him a secret out of fear of what the Avengers might say or do to separate you. Truth was, no one would ever be able to separate you from Loki anymore—no one but Loki himself.

Before you could stop yourself and reconsider what you were about to say, you took a deep breath and clenched your fists all the while marching straight towards the God of Mischief. Loki frowned in a confused manner.

“I have something to tell you guys.” You said loudly—loudly enough for everyone to stop doing whatever they were doing and face you to listen curiously. Loki’s frown deepened.

“Loki and I…” You paused. Loki and I are in a relationship? No. That was not powerful enough. “I love him.”

“Huh? Love him how? Like you love nachos and cheese or like playing house?” Bucky commented unimpressed. Beside him, Tony froze. Loki’s lips parted in utter surprise. You had never caught him off guard like this before.

“What did you just say?!” Your adoptive father finally snapped, earning him a reproachful look from Doctor Strange—who looked equally displeased. You couldn’t care less.

“I said I love Loki.” To your left, Thor began to grin.

“So that’s why you decided to stay with us, brother,” He stated, patting him on the shoulder. “You fell in love!”

“I did not fall in love.” He spat. His soft gaze when his blue eyes met yours, however, spoke a different story. You couldn’t help it, giving in to the urge to be close to him, comfort him, kiss him. So you did. You practically jumped into his arms, digging your nails into his armour and kissed him senseless. It took him only a heartbeat to reciprocate the kiss and wrap you in his arms. Behind you, Tony was about to explode, if such a thing was possible.

“What have you done to her, Reindeer Games? What kind of spell is this?”

“I’m afraid it’s not a spell, Stark.” Stephen tossed in—still displeased but somewhat… amused. The rest of the Avengers appeared to be equally shocked. Well… that was their problem now. Even though there were a lot of things still unsaid between you two, Loki would be yours again; and you would never ever hurt him again like this.

“Okay, stop it. Stop it now! (Y/N), have you lost your mind? This is Loki.”

Eventually, you broke away from him, if anything to catch your breath. Loki was panting too, still not quite believing what you had just done. He did not, however, pull away from you. Quite on the contrary—he held you close as if he was worried Tony or one of the others would snatch you away from him.

“You don’t really know him, Tony.”

“I don’t know him? I don’t know him, (Y/N)?! This man brought an alien army to New York and killed innocent people!”

“That’s not how it happened and you know it.” You spat sharply, unwilling to mention Thanos’ name.

“I forbid it.”

“Forbid it? You can’t forbid it.”

“I can, you’re my daughter!”

“That’s not what it says on the adoption papers. I am a grown up woman, Tony. I can make my own decisions.”

It was Steve who stopped the Ironman from lunging at Loki without even wearing his suit.

“What does it look like back there?” Steve’s voice came through the waterproof earpiece you were wearing.

“We’re facing a cliff.” You replied matter-of-factly.

“Is there water down there?”

“Yes. Deep enough for a ship to pass through and deliver deadly ammunition.”

Tony might have hated would he had had to say about you but Loki but you were indeed a very good team, even more so now that… you smiled at him when he reached for your hand to pull you back into him so would not accidentally fall off the cliff.

“There is a… well, it looks like a cave. It might be what we’re looking for. Do you reckon that’s where they are storing the weapons?” You asked, turning to Loki.

He nodded. “Possibly.”

“And do you think there is a safe way down?”

“Of course there is a way down.”

“You teleport us?”

Loki grinned—maliciously. “You do recall how I told you back on the helicarrier that this barrier we saw on Stark’s digital map will not allow any form of teleportation? Given that I no longer have the Tesseract at hand…”

You raised an eyebrow and suppressed a grin—and the urge to just kiss him again and have him make love to you there and then.

“So?” Ignoring the fact he had made a subtle suggestion the space stone be returned to him, you looked at him, expecting the worst. He did not disappoint.

“We jump.” He stated, seemingly unaffected. Your eyes widened.

“What?!”

This time, he laughed. It was honest, blithe—and it warmed your heart. This man… is yours, a happy voice in your head whispered.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, reaching for your hand. You took it with a deep breath and nodded.

“I do.”

Loki’s smile was still genuine when he took your hand and squeezed it gently.

“Together.” You whispered. Next thing you knew you had your breath taken away as you fell, holding on to the God of Mischief for dear life. The moment you had to let go was the moment you broke through the water surface effortlessly, sinking deeper and deeper. Surprisingly, it had barely hurt, still, the sudden darkness and masses of water around you put your body on alert. Resisting the urge to take a deep breath, you ripped open your eyes.

Loki was grinning at you smugly even though you could barely register it due to the saltwater, instantly making you feel safer. He’d never let you drown. Your eyes were already burning. Quickly, you closed them again, only to feel him wrapping you in his embrace and pulling you close to ensure you made it back to the surface safely.

And before you even knew it, he captured your lips for a passionate kiss underwater. Loki became your oxygen. But no, you corrected yourself. In a way, he always had been. And perhaps… just like in the Myths… you would become his wife and he would take you to Asgard with him.

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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official-weasley · 3 years

Text

The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 8, Ch. 10

PART 8: WHERE IT ALL ENDS Chapter 10 - Oblivious Fleur

Charlie

“Will...you...let...go!” I said through my teeth, staring at the Common Welsh Green. The bag, he was clutching with his teeth and I with my hands, was about to rip.

“Stop being so stubborn and release the bag!” I pulled it towards me, but the Dragon wouldn't let go. “You know there's no more meat in it?” I raise an eyebrow at him but he didn't care.

“I will bring you an extra snack before I go if you don't destroy my bag!” I sang at Eero, giving him one final chance. I felt his jaw soften a little bit but he was still holding on to it.

“Eero, love, I don't have time to play with you, you have to understand.” I said softly and knew it was a mistake as he pulled the bag towards himself again, almost making my feet lose contact with the ground.

“I'll be back soon enough, c'mon.” I pleaded and tried hard not to laugh at the playfulness in Eero's posture. He was enjoying this as much as I was.

I loved my job and every single Dragon, big or small, in the Sanctuary. But there was no one as playful and as tamed as Eero and I have to admit that sometimes I visited him just so we could bicker as we did right now. It was my favorite pass time and it reminded me, every time, how lucky I was to work here.

“Charlie!” Eero looked up at the voice and for a split second forgot that he was supposed to take the bag away from me. Me knowing full well who the voice belonged to, I seized the opportunity and snatched it from him.

“Ha! Got you!” I stuck my tongue out at him and moved a few steps backward, just in case he would not be happy about it.

If he could, I knew he would roll his eyes at me but instead he laid on the ground, smoke coming through his nostrils in admittance of his defeat.

“What is it, Andrei?” I turned around and saw him standing by a boulder looking amused.

“It's time. Your Portkey is ready! You'll be late!” He said.

“Bloody hell, is it that time already?” I rolled up my sleeve and looked at my watch. My eyes widened. “I am so late!” Andrei nodded at my realization. Without saying another word I ran down the path, straight to my cottage. I opened the door, grabbed the bag I prepared the previous night, and was on my way to the front gate.

Andrei was waiting for me there, a mocking grin on his face.

“You got your dress robes? Your toothbrush?” He laughed, imitating my mum. “The wedding rings?” I stopped for a second, my face in panic. I opened my bag and stuck my hand into it until I felt the satin box.

“Got the rings!” I said proudly. Nothing mattered more than that.

“Have fun, Charlie!” Andrei half hugged me and opened the gate for me.

—

I got up and dusted my jeans as I landed flat on the ground after touching the Portkey. I stopped for a second, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I felt so nauseous. Never liked to use those things much and I hated apparating even more. And mum still wondered why I didn't come home more often.

I looked to my right and a smile painted my face as I saw the tree where Nova and I used to stargaze under. I looked at the sky, imagining she was looking down upon me, wherever she was, and made my way towards the Burrow.

“Charlie!” I braced myself, knowing full well that Ginny is going to crush me with her hug.

“Hi, Gin!” I hugged her back and looked up, seeing George approach me.

“What happened to your ear?” I couldn't take my eyes off him.

I knew that they transported Harry here last week but for everyone's safety, we didn't correspond much these days if it had nothing to do with the Order.

“I became holey, Charlie.” George was trying hard not to laugh and I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to understand his joke.

“Hol...” I rolled my eyes. “Oh.” I facepalmed myself when he took off the bandage and I saw a hole where his ear use to be.

“Please tell me, he didn't tell his unfunny joke.” Fred showed up and put his hand around my shoulders, us both looking at George now.

“Of course, I did.” George beamed. “He got it before you did!” I started to laugh even though I was shaking my head. I missed them too much not to find their jokes funny.

“There he is!” Bill started towards me. “My best man!” With his arms opened, he pulled me into a hug. “You have the rings, right?” He whispered in my ear and I nodded.

“Ron, Fred, and George bet against Ginny and Hermione that you'll forget.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

“Haven't they learned already that Ginny is always right?” I laughed.

“Charlie, dear!” Before I could say another word to Bill, my mum put her arms around me and squeezed me so tight that I gave out a little sigh. As she pulled away, the smile that the hug gave me faded from my face when I saw the fury with which she was looking at my hair.

“It is time for you to get a proper haircut!” She roared and pulled me by my sleeve.

“Mum, give it a rest!” I felt like I was 12 again. There was nothing wrong with my hair. “So it got a little out of control, so what?”

“A little?” She said and sat me down on one of the chairs in the kitchen. Fred, George, and Bill were giggling like 14-year-old girls, watching mum pull out her wand and started pointing it at my hair.

“Are you trying to disguise him like Harry, mum?” Fred was wiping the tears of laughter now.

“Another word from you and you'll be next!” She stopped pulling my hair for a second and pointed her wand at Fred. He gulped and took a step backward.

“There's barely anything left!” I shouted as Ginny brought me the mirror. “Mum!”

“At least it looks nice now!” She defended herself.

“Nice?” I shook my head in horror. “Mum, I had more hair on my head when I was born!”

“Oh, don't be silly.” She tried to ruffle it, but there was nothing to ruffle. My hair has never been so short and if I didn't know how to grow it back, I would probably throw a tantrum right now.

“Looking sharp, mate.” Fred and George said together, Bill winking at me.

“I know the spell as well, want to be next?” I hissed at them and they pressed their lips together, trying not to laugh.

“I zink you ztill look 'andsome, Charlie.” I turned around to find Fleur glaring at my 3 brothers, her arms on her chest.

“Thank you, Fleur!” I said, even though I couldn't agree and I couldn't wait for everyone to go to sleep to regrow my hair.

That evening, when most of the house was already asleep, I was sitting in the kitchen with Bill, Fleur, Ginny, Hermione, and mum. Ginny and Hermione were discussing different types of hairdos they are going to try for the wedding tomorrow. Mum was telling Fleur about the tiara aunt Muriel is going to lend her for the wedding and I was explaining to Bill how I got one of my new scars.

It was nice being home. I was worried sick when they were transporting Harry and I knew I wouldn't know how it went without a few days passing by. It was a blow when I heard that Moody was killed and Bill wrote to me how disappointed he was when they couldn't find his body.

On the one hand, I was glad that I was away from everything. I experienced being attacked by the Death Eaters and it didn't matter how long ago it was, it still left a bitter taste in my mouth. Being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse. Seeing so many of my friends die. The Dragons being hurt. Losing Nova...

But on the other hand, I felt like I wasn't doing enough. Recruiting Wizards felt like nothing compared to all the work the Order was doing here. I didn't have an opportunity to take a desk job like Bill. There was nothing desk-job-like about Dragons. I wanted to help, I wanted to be more involved but dad said that I already fought my battle and Bill said that he is certain the time will come when we will have to fight again.

“Charlie!” Fleur's exciting voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked at her. She was leaning on her hands on the table, looking at me.

“Yes?” I liked Fleur. I think she was perfect for my older brother but we didn't talk much, at least not without a bunch of people around us, so she startled me when the whole room went quiet and they were waiting for what she was going to say to me.

“You are zo 'andsome!” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Bill iz getting married now, you are next!” She lifted her hand confidently in the air.

My heart started to beat faster. I didn't want to talk about my love life. Not to her, not to anybody.

“'ow come you don't 'ave a girlfriend? You should 'ave found someone by now!” Hermione gasped. All eyes were on Fleur. Nobody dared to look at me. The room was now so quiet that I was sure they could hear my raising heartbeat.

“How dare you!” Mum stood up and started towards Fleur. I extended my arm just in time to stop her.

“You...didn't...tell...her?!” Ginny hit Bill in the arm with every word. I turned to him, an apologetic look in his eyes.

“I didn't...I...” Bill was lost for words. Hermione and mum looked like they were going to burst into tears at any moment.

“What did I zay?” Fleur whispered. Her hand over her mouth, her face puzzled.

“That's enough!” I snapped. “Mum, stop piercing Fleur with your eyes. Ginerva stop hitting your brother!” Ginny stopped, her eyes on me now, her hand still clenched into a fist.

“I'm sorry, Charlie...” Bill started, his voice trembling. “I...I didn't know how to tell her and it was never the right moment and...”

“Bill...” I took a deep breath. “It's okay.” I lifted a hand at him to make him stop talking. I closed my eyes, then looked at Fleur.

“You didn't do anything wrong.” I reassured her. “There was someone. Her name was Nova. She was my schoolmate. We were best friends since our First Year.” I swallowed hard. Years might've past but it didn't mean it was any easier to talk about her. “We started dating in our Sixth Year and she worked with me in the Sanctuary.”

“Oh.” Fleur breathed. Both her hands over her mouth now.

“The Summer after He Who Must Not Be Named came back, Death Eaters tried to steal our Dragons. Between fighting them and trying to save the Creatures, they attacked one Dragon and he breathed fire at us from the pain they've caused him. We were both supposed to die, but she...” Fleur was now shaking her head, tears in her eyes.

“She saved me and the burns were too severe to save her.” I blinked fast a couple of times. I didn't want to cry in front of my mum, otherwise, she would hex Fleur.

“We were engaged. One month away from the wedding.” I said in a barely audible voice.

“Oh, Charlie!” Fleur jumped from her seat and wrapped her arms around me. “I am zo zorry! I didn't know!” She cried.

“It's okay. You couldn't have known.” I said softly. I didn't blame her as much as I didn't blame Bill for not telling her. Why would he tell her anything like that? Things like this don't just come up in a conversation and I know how close Bill was to Nova, it probably isn't easy for him to talk about it either.

Mum's look softened as she sent Hermione and Ginny to bed. Fleur gave me one more apologetic look and her and Bill went upstairs as well.

“Charlie.” I looked at my mum. “I am sorry for the way I reacted.”

“Mum, it's okay. Don't mention it.” I smiled faintly.

“It's just...”

“I know. Mum, don't.” I raised my hand to stop her. I already planned on talking to her before I leave back to Romania and I really didn't want to talk about Nova twice. Not to her. It was painful for both of us.

“She is just so...” Mum was looking towards the stairs leading to the floors above, frowning.

“Mum...” Her eyes turned back to me. “I think you shouldn't be so harsh on Fleur. She proved times and times again how much she loves Bill and I don't think it's fair how you're treating her.” Her expression softened, her mouth open at my words.

“I know. I don't know why I am so strict with her. I never was with Nova.” Her voice shook, saying her name. “But then again, Nova was...” She sighed, looking at nothing in particular behind me. “Perhaps it's because of her. I am trying to compare them too much.” She swung her hand.

“Don't. Fleur is great and Bill is happy with her and that's all that matters. She is just as worthy of being in our family as Nova was.” I said gently.

“You're right.” She came closer and cupped my face. “You're just like your father.” She whispered and kissed my cheek. “You both have the biggest loving heart that sees the best in everyone.”

She nodded her head to the stairs, indicating that I should go to sleep as well while wiping a tear off her cheek. I didn't dare say another word and slowly started going upstairs.

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scarlet--wiccan · 4 years

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your ideal billy/teddy duo comic (plot, character designs, artists and writers involved etc)

One thing that I've always wanted to see is a comic about Billy and/or Teddy that was produced entirely by mlm creators. Vecchio, Robles and Gracia are all gay artists who've worked with the characters on recent titles, and I'm eager to see more from them. While none of these artists have ever shown the characters in a way that exactly suits my wants, they've each demonstrated a clear personal vision of who Billy and Teddy are that I can respect. I find that Vecchio and Robles, as illustrators, both articulate a gay sensibility in their designs and are able to represent a range of gay identities and expressions with not only dignity, but real love, which is frustratingly hard to come by. Oh, also, Kevin Wada covers, because duh.

Writers are a little bit more difficult for me. I love Anthony Oliviera and I know that he's got a lot of ideas for the characters, so I'd be delighted to see anything that he might pitch. Vecchio also does write, and his creator-owned series, Sereno, is an urban superhero story in a modern fantasy setting-- something he describes as Batman Beyond meets Sailor Moon. Based on that, I think he'd do a great job telling a story about a witch and shapeshifter from New York. I know that Sina doesn't work for Marvel anymore, but I've always wished he could've done Billy and Teddy in a sweet little rom-com miniseries, or even just a single issue special. He's particularly good at writing tender, funny, and just unapologetically gay characters who signal authentic elements of our culture and community without making them cheap or laughable. That is a quality which I find essential for Billy and Teddy, and it's part of why I want more mlm creators to work with them.

If you had asked me this question last year, I would have had an easier time pitching ideas for these characters. I'm eager to see what the future holds for them, but "rulers of an interplanetary nation" was never part of my vision for how Billy and Teddy would be spending their early twenties. I did have this idea for an ongoing series about their "college years", wherein Billy would be studying magic with Wanda and Agatha, and Teddy would work part time with Carol or Alpha Flight while attending community college or learning a trade, like piercing or tattoo artistry. The idea was that they'd often spend time apart, as they'd each be focusing on their own careers and having individual storylines, but they'd always come home to each other at the end of the day and lend each other support, in ways both mundane and super-heroic.

I used to imagine that they'd stay in that nice apartment Sunspot got them, which would act as sort of a crash pad/base of operations for a revolving cast of their friends. They could convert one of the rooms into a magical sanctum for Billy, and another into a study room or art studio for Teddy. Tommy, America, Kate, or whoever could crash on their sofa whenever they're in town or need to do a team-up. Wanda could help Billy ward the apartment so that he and America are the only ones who can portal in and out, but then Loki would find a way to get around the wards and cause trouble, and there'd be a whole dramatic reunion. The whole idea could easily be adapted as a Young Avengers ongoing if you widened the focus from the main couple and treated it as an ensemble piece with individually chunked plot-arcs, much like the original series.

Unfortunately, that idea no longer holds as much water as I'd like because, for one thing, they lost that apartment and never explained why-- it seems like it was passively retconned out in between New Avengers and Death's Head. More importantly, they now live in space, with Teddy being a busy ruler of an interstellar Alliance, and Billy his prince-consort.

I would still like to explore the idea of them pursuing separate goals and working in separate fields while never being truly apart. Empyre introduced a clever plot device wherein Billy is now able to sense Teddy's location and teleport to him instantly, no matter the distance, which, I assume, works in reverse as well. This feat of magic is made possible by their marriage, which binds them symbolically and draws on the power of their love. They can go anywhere and do anything on their own, and still be together again at a moments' notice, which is super romantic and also affords them more flexibility than most superhero couples. I would still pitch a series about Billy doing magic work on Earth while Teddy does diplomacy in space, and one can always warp to the other when they need backup fighting a bad guy. They could even switch back and forth between staying on Teddy's throne-ship, and getting cozy at Billy's little Manhattan apartment when they want to get away from it all.

I guess my final answer is that I want the two of them to be fully realized, individual characters whose love is illustrated through mutual support rather than, like, being glued to each other's hips. The things that I want to see Billy doing are very far removed from the things that I want to see Teddy doing. Superhero characters tend to lose momentum when you marry them off, and superhero couples tend to fizzle when you keep them apart, but Billy and Teddy's unique strength is that they're never truly apart, and their relationship never seems to lose steam-- they've been a pair from the start, and... they're a little obsessed with each other.

The Billy story that I most want to see right now is a full Maximoff team-up. It could go in one of two directions: A) a quest to uncover Natalya's history and finally vanquish the Emerald Warlock, in which they're waylaid by Doom and other magic villains from their past, while teaming up with their magical friends around the world-- basically a sequel to Scarlet Witch; or, B) a showdown with Krakoa and a resolution of their relationship with Erik, which, best case scenario, partially reverses the Axis retcon and proves once and for all that the Maximoffs are mutants. If we got a longer series, we could actually do both plots-- they learn something about Natalya which leads them back to Erik, and the two arcs become a larger story.

The Teddy story that I most want to see is a Guardians-esque space romp with political elements featuring Teddy, Xavin and Noh-Varr as, like, a sexy-alien-boys version of the Gullwings from Final Fantasy X. Does that make sense? I don't have a great grasp on the political landscape of Marvel Space so it's a little hard for me to come up with details, but I know that the status quo has been totally upended, so there are going to be different factions and movements springing up, and likely no shortage of villains and space monsters rearing their heads when the dust of the war has fully settled. Teddy's a monarch now, but he's also been set up as this Arthurian hero-king, so I think there's still room for him to go on adventures and fight his own battles with his magic sword and, maybe, a crew of loyal space knights.

Having said aaaallll of that, I would absolutely die for a full-on fantasy adventure story with Billy and Teddy. I mean, Teddy's a king with a magic sword and his husband is a super-powerful witch. It's gotta happen. I'd actually be into them having a rematch with Mother, who is a pretty adaptable villain, in that her abilities and motives will differ depending on how she's been summoned. I'd also really like them to have a chance to go up against Sequoia directly, and on more even grounds. Quoi is such a great enemy for them because they represent the same generation of Avengers babies, and, actually, Quoi's origins are directly tied to Billy's-- their respective parents had a double wedding together. Sequoia and Teddy's arcs in Empyre paralleled and contrasted each other beautifully, but the two characters had no meaningful interactions. I want to see thems as arch rivals, and maybe, begrudgingly.... friends? Plus, I love that they're both alien princes who live in sci-fi stories, but whose aesthetics and powers are pure fantasy-- Quoi's a dryad wizard and Teddy is King Arthur, if King Arthur was a gay anthropomorphic dragon.

Anyways, that's my Wiccan+Hulkling pitch. The first arc is Billy and Teddy facing off against Sequoia in a magic forest that he's grown on his new planet, only to find out that they've been set up by Mother.

In the second arc, the three of them grudgingly team up against Mother while hashing out their shared backstories and giving Quoi, who's literally never had peers to relate to, a chance to fully come to grips with the way he was conditioned and manipulated by his father. Instead of conjuring dead parents, Mother seems to be able to summon dead children, which makes her particularly dangerous around the Cotati, Kree and Skrull, who've just emerged from a war and have countless recent dead.

In the third arc, Mother has freed R'kll and they've set their sights on Earth. Billy heads out with America and Tommy to ask Loki for advice on defeating her, while Teddy brings Sequoia before the Avengers as his charge in order to ensure that Quoi receives provisional immunity.

Loki is able to provide insight on how Mother might have been summoned and what the parameters might be for breaking the spell that's tethering her to Earth-616. It turns out that Mother is essentially holding Anelle's soul hostage and has been appearing to R'kll in her form. Mother's hold, at this point, has spread to the entire Alliance, and Teddy will have to defeat her or else she'll use it to destroy Earth and decimate his nation in the process.

Teddy recruits Wanda to help face Mother down. (side note, I'm desperate to see more of their relationship as in-laws.) Wanda agrees to work with Sequoia but insists on calling Mantis and making them talk.

The final showdown is the three boys, plus Wanda and Mantis, against Mother, R'kll, and an army of dead alien soldiers. Mantis and Wanda are able to pull Anelle's soul from Mother's grasp, but this doesn't banish her-- Mother's true anchor was R'kll, who'd been carrying Anelle's ghost in her heart ever since the destruction of Tarnax.

R'kll believes that she's always acted in the best interest of her nation, and she thought that bringing back Teddy's mother would finally make him see her way. Anelle and Teddy have a tearful reunion, but he admits that the only mother he's really mourned was the woman who raised him.

Wanda, Mantis, and Anelle, as a trio of mothers united with their lost sons, are able to reverse and seal Mother's power, which was based on lost children. They are not able to banish her, however, until R'kll steps forward and sacrifices herself, believing now that the best she can do for her nation is to rid the Alliance of the curse she brought upon it.

R'kll and Anelle begin to dissipate, but R'kll's sacrifice has called forth the spirit of Mrs. Altman, who is finally granted some closure and dignity in death by getting a chance to see how far Teddy's come and the peace that he's built in her memory.

Lots of crying! I made this sad. I'm sorry.

#young avengers #teddy altman #hulkling #wiccan #billy kaplan #empyre #robintext

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therewasatale · 3 years

Text

still not friends

On Ao3.

Summary: "I can't believe I have to protect your back, Black." Snape glared at the man hiding at arm's length. Sirius got his head down and while he didn’t point his wand at him, he did give him a fiery damning gaze. "No one asked you to protect my back, if I remember correctly, we wouldn't be in this shit, IF SOMEONE hasn’t had the bright idea to convince them that he was still a Death Eater!"

Notes: fuck Rowling, lets imagine Sirius, Severus and Remus fighting together on the same side

Curses and spells flew around them, but most of them slammed into the walls. Pieces of debris exploded from the impacts, and the air was no longer filled with not only magic, but dust and shards of glass.

"I can't believe I have to protect your back, Black." Snape glared at the man hiding at arm's length.

Sirius got his head down and while he didn’t point his wand at him, he did give him a fiery damning gaze.

"No one asked you to protect my back, if I remember correctly, we wouldn't be in this shit, IF SOMEONE hasn’t had the bright idea to convince them that he was still a Death Eater!"

A window exploded near them, and they both ducked down. Their opponents tried to inch closer, but so far haven't yet succeeded.

"Excuse me but I could have played a Death Eater perfectly, IF SOMEONE had waited for my signal."

"Could we please focus on defeating the enemy? Then you can strangle each other afterwards!" A faint light came out from the end of Lupin's wand, turning the crumbling walls and windows into massive, cohesive stones.

Snape and Sirius shared a look and finally nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Remus."

"As you wish."

Lupin glanced at the two of them. "Thank you." He raised his wand as the reinforced wall began to crack again.

From then on, not a word could be heard, and the air filled again with the characteristic glowing streaks of spells. All three focused on Death Eaters and to survive until dawn.

Even after so many years, Lupin was still surprised how many ways different wizards could fight. Each of Snape's attacks was measured and to the point, he fought and attacked with elegance. There was no unnecessary movement in any of the spells. Sirius, on the other hand, mostly used his anger and energy. Lupin knew well enough that he had a lot to use. He slipped a little bit of darkness from him into every curse. As much he wanted to protect, he just as much tried to destroy his enemy.

Perhaps it was precisely because of their different style that Dumbledore thought he would assign the two of them to common assignment. Their pair was anything but predictable.

As dawn broke the world was lighter by one Death Eater, but the other two managed to get away.

"Cowards." Sirius glared at the masked figure on the ground. "Running away from a fight."

Not far from them, Snape examined the remains of the destroyed house to see if he could find some information. Unfortunately, he knew he haven’t got much of a chance. The Death Eaters were indeed cowards, but they knew how to hide their secrets.

Lupin's voice was filled with bitterness. "They are, but we didn’t get anything from them. Plus, Dumbledore is right that they're planning something. Something big again to let not only the wizarding world, but the Muggles know too that they're back." He felt like history was getting too close to repeat itself.

"We still have time to catch one or two. Lucius will tell us anything if we'd get him." Black moved his wand around in his hand, adrenaline still buzzing in his body.

"Lucius Malfoy would sooner use his own son as a meat shield to save himself."

"Unfortunately, I have to agree with you." Said Snape as he walked back to them. "I didn't find anything even with Revelio." He almost but not quite managed to hide his frustration in his voice, so he instead shifted it to someone else. He looked up with his dark eyes. "But of course, if you think you can still sniff around a bit, Black."

Sirius swallowed back a snort. "Very funny, Snape."

"Why thank you, Black."

"I must have done something really bad back in my student's years to Dumbledore from him to send me with you two for a mission. I would rather change Mrs. Norris' litter." Lupin dusted off his jacket and hid a smile as he heard not only Sirius's but Snape snort as well. "Let's go home, I don't want to be here if they come back with reinforcements."

"All right, it was already a bloody long night." Black stretched his back, then winced as he felt a stab of pain in his side.

Lupin stepped closer, worry immediately appearing in his voice. "Sirius?"

The mentioned pulled up his shirt, revealing the long wound that ran along the line of one of his ribs. It wasn’t too deep, but it was still bleeding.

"I didn't even notice." As the adrenaline rush subsided, pain and fatigue began to take its place. "A shard of glass probably. Fuck. I'll take care of it when we go back. Crap, it hurts like hell."

A moment later, the wound closed on its own. Sirius felt his skin fuse together and the pain dissolved into nothing from one moment to another. There wasn't even a scar left.

There was a confused silence between them, but before either Lupine or Black could say anything Snape put his wand away and Apparated away.

Lupine let out a small chuckle before followed the former Death Eater.

Sirius was the last to stay behind, running his hand over where the wound was.

"We're still not friends!" He said to the nobody in particular, although his words were not as convincing as he would have liked. Then he too, disappeared.

#harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #severus snape #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius #lupin #snape #sirius black fanfiction #remus lupin fanart #severus snape fanfiction #snape & lupin & black #harry potter fandom #potter #copper #death eaters #one shot

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katarinzie · 4 years

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Hawthorne!Michael Imagine

Ok, this is my first imagine ever and i used google translate and my knowledge of English to translate this, so sorry if it sucks ;v;

There’s also a part two of this so let me know if you want to read it.

Y\N, even though she is a witch, is sent to the Hawthorne Wizarding Academy after being expelled from the Miss Robichaux Academy. There she meets a boy known as the golden boy of Hawthorne, that boy already hates her for some reason, so she decides to find out why after the teacher pairs them for a project, and she ends up discovering several other things about herself along the way.

Dom!Reader and Sub!Michael (for most of it at least)

Warnings: NSFW, Oral (fem and male receiving), Fingering (Fem receiving), Bad Words, Neck Grabbing (Suffocation too i guess) and Boot licking (Literally)

You have been causing rumors since the day you arrived in Hawthorne, a witch at a wizarding school, what could be stranger? Ariel would never have accepted you at school if you didn't have something special, and he can't deny that his magic was different from all other witches. The magic came to you as the air came to your lungs, in an almost angelic way. Several boys tried to compete with you, but none of them got to your feet, not even the well-known Michael Langdon, the golden boy from Hawthorne. The sorcerer has avoided you since the day you defeated him in a healing spell competition, your specialty. Since that day you can hear the snobbish comments he gives you when you walk down the hall, and of course you know of the rumors he spreads about you every day. Pathetic, you think every time you hear about one more of the things he says you did.

In response to all these comments and rumors, you decided to avoid him as much as possible by restricting yourself from even looking at him during classes. However, your plan failed when the teacher decided to put both of you together as partners for a new project, after all, you were the two smartest students in the whole school, so what could go wrong? As soon as you heard the news about your new project partner, you could feel the eyes of all your colleagues on the back of your neck, as if they were waiting for you to freak out and ask for another partner, but instead, you swallowed your pride and headed over to Michael's seat, with a smile on your face and holding out your hand.

- Michael, I think you already know that, but we are partners in the project, so I hope we can put our differences aside and work together - Michael slapped your hand away, and laughed.

- Make the project yourself, I'm too busy for this bullshit - That said, Michael got up and left the room. You thought for a few seconds before picking up your things and going after him, managing to reach him effortlessly.

- But we are partners, I will not do the whole project alone!

- So get an F, it won't make a difference to me - Michael smiled and hurriedly left, you didn't follow him this time, deciding that going back to your room would be the best answer.

You tried to study and be distracted by something, but the snobbish smile on Michael's face when saying ‘‘ It won’t make a difference to me ’’ just didn’t let you rest. What did he mean by that? An F wouldn't make a difference to you and he knew it, why does he have to be so narcissistic? You sighed and tried to concentrate again, but as soon as you realized you couldn't do it, you decided to go look for him to fix it. You decided to go straight to the boy's room, but he wasn't there, so you looked for him in the library, where you found him hidden behind a small little room made with bookshelves, the little bookcase room you had made, for you to use.

- How did you find my secret hiding place? - You asked with indignation in your voice, he snorted, laughing at you.

- It's not like you were trying to hide it after all - Michael was reading a book you've read a few times, one that talked about the test of the seven wonders. Michael sighed when he noticed that you still hadn't left - Can’t you just go fuck yourself and get out of here?

- Michael, what did I ever do to make you angry with me? - You asked, but Michael just ignored you - I mean, come on, can't you stop acting like a child and talk to me? - You sat next to Michael, closing his book while he was reading it.

- Can you stop bothering me and just say what you want already? - Michael was looking at you with anger in his eyes, but you didn't let yourself be shaken by it.

- I want to arrange with you an hour for us to do our project - Michael snorted when he heard you speak, opening his book again.

- I thought I made that clear already, I'm not going to do shit, especially with you - He turned his attention back to his book, but you wouldn't give up that easy. You opened your bag next to him and took your own book out of there, exactly the same one he was reading. You could see him looking away to look at your book, before chuckling - Do you think someone like you would pass the seven wonders test?

- I don't know, I just know that surely someone like you wouldn't pass - You can feel Michael's gaze on you, you can't help but blush when you notice the attention.

- You should be more careful with what you say, because you are talking to the person who will command you someday - You couldn't contain your laughter, which only made the wizard angrier - I suggest you put your attention on your book and stop bothering me, not that it will help you with anything, reading about something you could never do.

- Not wanting to be a snob, but the only wonder I haven't realized since I started my studies was the seventh.

- Descendum - Michael whispered, finally taking his attention from his book to look you in the eye. You could feel the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck prickling when you heard him say that word like that. You looked away, and he soon did the same.

- Cordelia wouldn't let me test this one, she was afraid that I wouldn't be able to return.

- That's why you got kicked out - Michael commented snidely - She knew you were weak and you tried to contradict her.

- I don't think she thought I was weak, I think she was afraid that I would go over there and kill Satan - As soon as you finished saying that, you could feel Michael grabbing your neck, cutting off your breath. For some reason, that phrase had made an angry expression cover Michael's face.

- Satan is the one who gave you your fucking shitty powers, so you should have more respect for him - Michael's look was almost predatory, but strangely charming in some way. You ran your hands through his, causing him to loosen your neck.

- I'm not afraid of you Langdon, I never was and I never will be - He stopped looking at you and went back to your book, you can feel him paying attention to your every move as you collect your book and get up to go. Before you left, you stopped and turned to Michael - If you are not in my room at 7 tomorrow for the project, I will look for your little wizards boyfriends to bring you by force.

- I already said I'm not going to do any fucking project! - The shelves closed in front of you, leaving you with no way out, you turned to Michael, who was now standing in front of you, just inches away from your body . Michael grabbed you by the neck, pushing you against a bookcase - You're not afraid of me? Your heartbeat would disagree with that.

Michael laughed as he watched your wide eyes and your attempts to breathe, he loosened his grip a little, finally allowing you to take a breath.

- I could kill you right here and now, and nobody would care, nobody would look for you or miss you, you know that, don't you? - Michael smiled and approached your neck, leaving a bite on it. You could feel Michael's breath on your neck, feeling your heart beat faster and faster in your chest, you used that feeling to conjure his magic in its purest form. Your eyes shone a light blue as you watch your magic go up Michael's leg, spread over the boy's body, you decided that you wouldn’t be nice to him anymore, and sent your magic to the boy's private parts, in order to make him feel pain, but the effect was just the opposite, Michael let out a loud moan as you did this. Michael released you and walked away, covering his mouth with his hand while his cheeks flushed.

- Won't you look at that - you said laughing - I found your weakness.

- Shut up - He said, still breathing deeply. If Michael had been so embarrassed by a little touch, what would he do if you touched him more? You decided to find out. With a snap of your fingers, Michael was thrown to the bench he was sitting on before, you crouched in front of him, leaving your eyes at the same height as his. You ran your hand through Michael's hair, pulling it and making the boy's head fall back. Michael tried to push you away, but you used your magic to pin his hands to the bench - Stop, let me go.

- Look at how the roles changed in just a few seconds - You laughed and brought your lips closer to Michael's, but you didn't kiss him, instead you grabbed the boy's cock over his pants, watching his reactions. Michael moaned into your mouth, grabbing the seat, trying to hold back the moans as you continued to run your hand over his pants. You watched as he tried to speak your name with difficulty, trying not to moan while doing so.

- Y\N… - He murmured.

- Yes? - You answered.

- Get your hands off me - You smiled and did as he said, and on top of that you released the boy from the bank. He continued to take a deep breath. As soon as you went to take your hand off the boy's erection, he grabbed it, preventing you from removing it.

- I thought you wanted me to take my hands off you - You said, with a snobbish smile on your face, Michael's expression was still angry, but now there was a little lust mixed in there - Do you want me to continue? - Michael nodded - Then beg.

- N-never - He said between breaths, you looked at him and stood up, turning your back to him and leaving, this time he couldn't hold you. You were about to walk out the bookshelf door when you heard him calling you - Wait ...

- You turned around again, Michael was looking at you with a flushed face and a need in his watery eyes. Please Y\N, keep touching me, he pleaded, and you went to him with a smile on your face, kneeling in front of him. You wagged your finger and Michael's hands clasped behind the boy's back, as if they were tied.

- Don't even try to let go of your hands, they'll only get even tighter - Michael nodded, obedient, great, you thought. Slowly unzipping Michael's pants, you pulled his cock out, running your tongue all over the boy's dick, watching him, seeing him tremble in front of you. As soon as you started to suck Michael's cock, you put the tip of it in your mouth. Michael let out a loud moan, and continued to moan when you started to suck it mercilessly. Michael could barely breathe properly between his moans, he moved his hips non-stop, trying to get deeper and deeper into your mouth.

- Oh my ... fuck - He let out a lot of bad words while trying not to moan, but he couldn't help himself. You just loved seeing him like that, being unable to contain himself, so you decided to play with him a little. You brought one of your hands to Michael's mouth, letting him suck and lick your fingers at will. He would bite your fingers every time you sucked his cock a little harder, and you could tell he was close to coming when he wouldn’t stop biting your fingers. Then you stopped sucking him, and stood up, smiling at him. - Why did you stop?

- We will meet in front of the library tomorrow after school to start our project, understood? - He groaned in need, Michael needed to feel your mouth again, he was so close. You took Michael's silence as a no, so you started to get your bags again, showing him that you were about to leave - If i can’t get a deal here, then i have no business staying here.

You continued to look at Michael, who just bit his lower lip until blood came out of it, then nodded.

- Yes, okay? Understood, now, please ... - You felt like turning around and letting Michael finish by himself, and that's almost what you did.

- Do it yourself, I'm busy - You grabbed Michael’s hair and kissed, with a snap of your fingers you released the boy's hands, which he quickly took to his cock, masturbating himself while you kissed him, when he was only seconds away from cumming, you grabbed his hair even harder and threw it his head back, biting Michael's neck and leaving a hickey there, Michael came as soon as he felt your lips on his neck. Again you got up and looked at Michael, his outfit was covered in cum, his generally perfect hair was completely messed up, and the look on his face was so submissive, you had never seen him like that, and you just loved it.

- Here, clean up - You took napkins out of your bag and handed them to Michael, who took them in anger - But I think you'll still have to wash those clothes.

- Fuck you Y\N, I'll kill you - He said, with anger in his voice. You grabbed his neck and looked him straight in the eye, laughing at him, which only made his anger build up- Go away, before I force myself to throw you on the floor and step on your neck.

- I want to see you try - You said, before turning around and walking away, straight to your room, where you locked the door behind you, just in case Michael came after you. You had finally tamed the boy wonder, and you couldn't be more proud of yourself for that.

The next day, Michael avoided you like you were the plague, he didn't even glance at you during class like he used to, you wondered if you made him even more angry. Classes were over and the schedule you had agreed with Michael had already arrived, but he was not yet at the library, you waited for more than half an hour, nothing. It was then that you went into the library and picked up the books you need for your research, then headed for Michael's room. You knocked on the door a few times, nothing, tried to open it, locked. Idiot, you thought before using your magic to open the door, Michael was at his desk writing something on his laptop when you walked in. He swallowed when you closed the door behind you.

- What do you want? - He asked, his voice filling with anger.

- What do I want? You should have met me at the library half an hour ago, so now we are going to do the project in your room, deal with it - You threw the books on the boy's perfectly made bed, and motioned for him to sit down - I won't bite, come here.

- You already bit me once - He showed you the hickey you left on his neck the day before - Do you know how many people have asked me about it today?

- That's what you get for being so naughty, now come here - Michael snorted and went over to you, standing in front of you and pushing you to the bed, you laughed - Your bed is much more comfortable than mine, do you even sleep on it?

- Shut up - Michael put himself on top of you and pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, but you weren't afraid, at least, not until the boy's eyes turned black as night. Michael noticed the look of fear and confusion in his eyes and laughed - You know, you may have given me pleasure yesterday, but you humiliated me, so how about I return the favor?

- What? - Before you could say anything else, you felt Michael's fingers lifting your skirt and putting your panties aside, leaving your intimacy exposed. You can't help but take a deep breath when you feel Michael's thumb quickly surrounding your clitoris. He laughed as soon as you moaned. - Shit

- You like that, don't you? - You could see your reflection in Michael's dark eyes, you were totally flushed. You tried to struggle to get your hands free, and Michael didn't take that well - You're being a bad girl, you need punishment, don't you think? - That said, Michael stuck two fingers at once inside your pussy, making you let out a loud moan and arch your back. Michael started to pull and put his fingers inside you, faster and faster, making sure to put his whole fingers inside you. You bit your lip, holding back his moans, which made him angry. - Stop fighting, moan for me, I want to hear your screams.

As soon as Michael finished his sentence, you could no longer contain yourself, moaning and letting out little screams in Michael's ear, who listened to them as if they were music.

- You're a little bitch, did you know that? Say it, I want to hear you say it.

- Fuck you - You finally managed to release one of your hands from Michael's grip, and used it to slap the boy in the face. Michael was silent for a moment, before grabbing your neck with one hand, squeezing it tight enough to cut your breath. Michael continued to fuck you with his fingers, this time faster than ever, but he didn't let go of your neck, he seemed to be testing whether you'd run out of air or come first, and he really was. After a few seconds of lust, you finally came, arching your back and pressing your pussy against Michael's fingers, which were soaked with your cum. Michael released your neck and licked his fingers soon starting to lick your pussy, sucking your cum like it was juice, you finally managed to breathe and soon started to moan again.

Michael was finally satisfied, and he looked at you while he licked his lips willingly. His eyes slowly returned to normal and so did your breathing. Michael sat in front of you in the bed, and you used that opportunity to kick him out of the bed, literally. You put your panties into place again and stood up, stepping on Michael’s neck hard enough to leave a bruise. But instead of being scared or angry, Michael grabbed your ankle and licked your boot, smiling at you as he did this. A red aura was emanating from the boys eyes as you felt your heartbeat slowing down, his presence became almost demonic, and you swear you could see horns on the boys shadow, but your feeling of anger made you ignore most of that.

- You’re such a whore Langdon - You said before letting go of his neck and grabbing your books, rushing to the door.

- Where are you going? - He asked, but you didn’t answer and continued your way to his door, was his room getting bigger or was it just you? - No, you’re not - The door closed in your face before you could leave, you let out a sigh and turned to Michael, who was already making his way to you.

- What? What do you want? - He grabbed your hand without saying a word, and connected your fingertips to his. That red aura started emanating from his hands as a blue aura started emanating from yours. As soon as the auras touched, they became purple.

- I knew I wasn't imagining it...You’re not just a witch, are you Y\N? - Michael’s words cut your breath. That feeling you’ve always felt deep on the inside appeared in your heart again, that feeling of emptiness, like there was something inside that hadn't woken up yet. Your eyes connect to Michael's eyes, and it was like you could just feel like he had that same feeling before, but had just discovered who he was. Tears started to drip down your cheeks, and Michael leaned in to kiss you, but you turned your face away, quickly disconnecting your hands from his and getting out of his room.

The days after that were strange, you noticed you saw Michael less and less everyday, and you saw it, months had passed by and you still hadn't talked to Michael. But, even though the lack of conversations between you two, you still couldn’t stop thinking about him, about what you felt when he touched you, about those dark eyes of him, about his red and demonic aura. The memories of Michael’s moans would pass over your head at least once a day, and you had to close your legs every time you remembered that. As time passed, you noticed that you felt more and more attracted towards him, as if he were a magnet that you could not stay away from. Could it be that you were ... falling in love with that stupid golden boy?

#michael langdon #american horror story #apocalyse #ahs apocolaypse #Michael Langdon x Reader #Michael Langdon Imagine #Michael Langdon imagines #Imagine #ahs imagine

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nearlymanaged · 4 years

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14. Patronuses, Tactics, and Signs

January was rapidly coming to an end and the heavy clouds in the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall were the exact shade of the dreary moods of pupils and staff alike. The day’s Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons was prefaced, as if on purpose, by an article in the Daily Prophet about another attack on three Muggle-born witches who were tortured by a gang of Death Eaters and then given to Dementors to perform a Kiss. As a group of sixth year Gryffindors got up from their table at breakfast and made their way across the castle, that was all they could talk about, for one of the victims was the aunt of a fifth year Gryffindor girl.

“Severus wants to join them, you know. The Death Eaters...” Lily spoke quietly, casting a glance at the back of Snape’s head, once the Gryffindors reached the classroom.

“You’re joking?” Remus raised his eyebrows.

“Does that really surprise anyone?” Mary, one of Lily’s friends, chimed in.

“I knew he was a dickwad, sure, but joining the Death Eaters is a whole new level of evil, don’t you think?” Remus offered with a shrug.

“Who’s joining the Death Eaters?” Sirius followed them into the classroom and took a seat next to Remus.

“Take a guess…”

“No way,” James breathed out.

“He wasn’t always like that, you know…” Lily whispered, not looking at anyone in particular.

“Don’t defend him,” Marlene hissed on the other side of her. “After how he treated you.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying… Remus is right.”

“What a piece of shit,” Sirius growled and Peter echoed the sentiment.

The professor finally silenced everyone and started the lesson. The mood in the room remained just as somber, if not more, than it had been the whole morning. The students were told that in light of the recent events and the state of the Wizarding world as a whole, their D.A.D.A. lessons would be altered accordingly. That morning, instead of following the pre-planned course, they were going to jump straight to the Patronus Charm.

“That sounds really difficult,” Peter sighed after they went through the theory part and were about to start practicing.

“Oh come on, you’ll do just fine!” Lily whispered at him, casting a quick, eloquent glance. “You’re capable of magic that’s far more complex than this.”

“I don’t know, that was different…”

“Don’t waste your breath, Lily. Peter’s got a flair for dramatics,” James smirked at his friend.

“Come on, Wormy, you’ll have a rat Patronus flying around in no time,” Sirius patted the boy on the back.

“You think that’s how that works?” James asked a little quieter, so that only the other Marauders and Lily could hear him.

“Let’s find out!” Sirius grinned at him.

The first one out of the five to successfully cast a Patronus Charm was Lily, about an hour into the double lesson; it was a hedgehog. James wasn’t too far behind her with his stag, then Peter managed to produce a rat. Sirius kept joking about how Remus had better pull himself together or else, he was going to be left behind. And what happened was just that - Sirius successfully cast a corporeal Patronus in the shape of a dog, while Remus was still shooting out faint silvery webs of light out of his wand.

Unbeknownst to the others, he felt a panic grow inside him with each of his friends’ successful charms. By the time they all saw Peter’s rat, Remus was convinced that his Patronus would surely assume the shape of a werewolf. And with that thought, all happy memories were wiped out of his head. He had no desire to let anyone see that.

“Still no luck?” Sirius appeared at Remus’ side.

“Er, no.”

“Weird.”

“Weird?”

“Uh-huh. You’re always the best at everything, out of the four of us.”

“Evidently not,” said Remus.

“Maybe Snivellus is blocking your good memories?” Sirius’ gaze drifted across the room, to where Snape was practicing with the other Slytherins.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so? Maybe I should jinx him, just in case?”

“How about no?” Remus completely forgot what he was doing, his undivided attention now on Sirius.

He still thought that Sirius had been acting off, somehow. Remus had noticed him become seemingly completely zoned out quite often, not really participating in conversations around him. Other times, he thought Sirius was staring, deep in thought, but Remus never could figure out what it was. Or rather who; he was sure that this strange behaviour must have been related to Sirius’ mysterious crush.

Frankly, sometimes Remus forgot that he had overheard Sirius telling Peter and James about fancying someone. It seemed like it had happened a long time ago, almost as if it had been years instead of months. Part of the reason was that Sirius never asked anyone out or mentioned anything about it, as far as Remus knew. But on the other hand, Remus sometimes found himself lost in a serendipitously intimate moment with Sirius, like leaning in much closer than needed to tell a silly joke or holding hands, completely innocently, as they made their way through a crowded corridor before lunch or sharing a bed - in those moments, it seemed impossible that anyone else could exist in the world but them two.

But then Remus would remember that Sirius did fancy someone else, and he would scold himself silently for letting himself drown in his idiotic daydreams.

“I’ll just fix his hairstyle,” Sirius aimed his wand at Snape. “Bald will suit him better than greasy, don’t you think?”

“Sirius, no.”

“You don’t think so?” Sirius’ head jerked, utter disbelief taking over his face momentarily.

“I mean…” Remus grinned.

“How about a unibrow?”

“No.”

“Maybe just a little Tickling Charm then?”

“Sirius.”

“Remus?” Sirius looked at him with a wide, toothy smile.

“No.”

“Oh, fine,” he let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, drop the act, Moony.”

“What?” Remus’ bewilderment permeated his voice.

“Why are you pretending that you can’t conjure a corporeal Patronus?”

“I’m not…”

“Well then I’m offended.”

“You’re offended?” Remus repeated slowly.

“Yes, gravely.”

“Sirius,” He placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder with an expression of mock worry, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I like it when you say my name like that,” Sirius smirked and Remus barely stopped himself from flinching away in an effort to hide his flustered face. Instead, he rolled his eyes. “Evidently, our friendship’s only brought sadness and misery into your life if you can’t think of a single happy memory that’s good enough for a Patronus,” Sirius said.

“Oh, shut up,” Remus turned away, a huge smile splitting his face.

“If it assumes the shape of our furry little friend,” Sirius shrunk the space between him and Remus and spoke barely above a whisper, “everyone will just think it’s wicked cool. And if not, I will personally jinx them.”

As Remus stared down at the floor, he could feel Sirius’ breath on the side of his face, all his worries slipping away, as if repelled by magic. He felt his wand glow with warmth in his hand, as if it was suddenly ready for the charm to be cast.

“Sirius!” James called him over and, with a quiet groan, the boy stepped away from Remus.

Remus cleared his mind, only thinking of one thing - of how Sirius was always ready to stand up for him, to defend him, how he had done that many times. And how he always thought so highly of Remus, always acted like he was proud of him. Any memory, he thought, any moment spent around Sirius was a happy one.

He lifted his wand halfway and uttered Expecto Patronum, and a glowing, silvery shape burst out of its end. Remus had been so sure he was about to see a werewolf, that it took him a second to recognise what it really was when his Patronus perked up and started leaping around the room. It startled him so much that the spell was broken instantly, his guardian dispersing in silver wisps.

“Does someone have a wolf as a Patronus?” Someone asked loudly.

“I thought that was a dog…” Someone else responded.

“It was huge though!”

Remus felt completely mortified as he slowly turned to look at Sirius, but the latter seemed to have been looking the other way. James and Peter, on the other hand, were both facing Remus and must have caught sight of the glowing shape of the animal before it was gone.

“Was that…” Lily walked up to Remus, her eyes fixed on the spot in the air where his Patronus had disappeared.

“Yes?” Remus fiddled with his left sleeve, not meeting her gaze.

“Was that a dog?” She whispered.

“Or a wolf,” Remus shrugged, although there was not a doubt in his mind at all that it had, in fact, been a dog; and not just any dog - it appeared that his Patronus had assumed the shape of Padfoot.

* * *

“I’m changing my tactics,” James declared to the dormitory; he had come back from a Quidditch practice about half an hour ago.

“Why? You’re a brilliant Seeker as it is,” Sirius muttered from his bed, where he was lounging with a Muggle magazine full of pictures of motorcycles.

“I’m not talking about Quidditch,” James gave a slight shake of his head, as if trying to get rid of a particularly annoying fly. “I’m talking about Lily Evans.”

“I see. So what’s the new tactic?”

“Well…” He muttered, looking increasingly more embarrassed. “It’s not so much a tactic as… She’s really kind, isn’t she?” He looked over at Remus briskly.

“Very much so,” the boy agreed, his eyes glued to three blue flames spinning mid air in front of him, directed by subtle movements of his wand hand.

James leaned back against the side of his bed and dragged an ancient gramophone across the rug, closer to himself. “I’ve been a bit of a prick, haven’t I?”

The rest of the Marauders all protested:

“What?”

“Nooo…”

“You’re a great friend!”

“No, I mean...to Lily. Can’t imagine it’s very pleasant to have some guy hit on you and embarrass you in front of people over and over again…”

“Yep.”

“You’ve definitely been a huge prick.”

“Completely…” His friends responded in the same disorganised choir.

“So your plan is to...stop being obnoxious?” Sirius asked for a clarification, already having abandoned his magazine for something he deemed more interesting.

“Sort of. I was just thinking, maybe I should become friends with her, you know?”

“I would definitely recommend that,” Remus flicked his wrist to make his floating flames glide towards James and arrange themselves in a circle around his head. “She’s an excellent person to be friends with.”

“Wormy, you’re awfully quiet,” James shot the boy a glance as his fingered flicked through a boxful of vinyl records.

“I have my own problems, I don’t know what to do about Lydia,” Peter pulled himself off his bed and onto the floor to join James.

“How do you mean?”

“What do I get her for Valentine’s day?”

“A card?” Remus suggested.

“Flowers?” James added.

“Box of chocolates?” Sirius joined in.

“Is that too non-committal though? I mean, we’ve been going out for a while now… What if she expects something more?”

“Give her your virginity?” Sirius suggested with a cheeky grin and a shrug, earning himself a smack in the face with a pillow.

“Er, can we focus for a second, please? Can we go back to my problem?” James’ words caused him to be the recipient of the flying pillow.

“I thought your problem was solved?” Remus was making the flames spin around James’ head. “You’re abandoning your obsession to become friends, right?”

“First of all, it’s love, not obsession. And I wouldn’t necessarily abandon it, just put it on hold.”

“So you’ll only pretend to be friends with Lily?” Remus flicked his wrist again, guiding the flames towards the middle of the room.

“No! I want to be friendly with her.”

“Okay…”

“I can’t help it if I’m in love with her!” James’ voice went a whole octave higher as Remus’ eyes bore into him.

“Uh-huh…”

“Oh, let the boy live, Moony,” Sirius let out a feeble jet of water out of his wand, trying to extinguish Remus’ flames. He felt an unpleasant prickling sensation wash over his body - if Moony knew how Sirius felt about him, would he accuse him of dishonesty? Would he feel lied to and betrayed if he knew that Sirius had been pretending not to want them to be something more than just friends?

“Lily’s got an excellent dragon dung sensor,” Remus shrugged, got up, and started picking up his books and stray socks littered around his bed.

“It’s not dragon dung!”

“I didn’t say it is, I’m just letting you know.”

“If she just gets to actually know me, maybe she’ll realise that I’m not so awful?” James looked at the other two boys now.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’re that awful,” Sirius threw him an overly serious look.

“Just don’t overthink it,” Remus said without looking at James; he had started cleaning out his trunk.

“I mean, I have to put some thought into it, don’t I? I can’t fuck it up...”

“Oh really?” Sirius glared at James, thinking about all the times his friend has pestered him to ‘just talk to Moony and get it over with’.

James flashed him an irritated frown and looked at Remus’ back. “Hey Moons, maybe if you talk to her--”

“I think it’ll take more than just talking to her, but I refuse to feed her love potion. You’ll have to ask someone else,” he answered without so much as a glance around again.

“Fuck you, Moons,” James grumbled as Sirius and Peter laughed. “Hear me out though, if you just, er, aid me in spending more time around her--”

“It’s not going to work,” Remus interrupted him.

“It is too! I’ve thought this through!”

“You thought?” Sirius gasped, earning himself a middle finger from James.

“When have my calculations ever been incorrect?”

“Well--” Sirius opened his mouth only to get cut across.

“Shut up, that was one time.”

“Well…” Remus joined in.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I just know I’m right this time.”

“You always say that right before--”

“Shut up, Peter! Moons, just hear me out… I want to be honest with her, of course, but I just don’t see how I can do that if I’m never around her, you know? I’m just asking you to help me with reasons to spend time with her. And then if she hates me...well… Oi! Are you listening?” James threw one of his pillows at Remus and missed.

“Yes. It’s just taking me a while to process all this idiocy all at once.”

“Remus!” James gasped dramatically, clutching at his chest. “You’re supposed to be the nice one out of us!”

“What, I’m not allowed to have fun?” Remus glanced at James with a big grin. “Of course I’ll help you, Prongs,” he pulled a dustbin closer to himself since he had started accumulating a small pile of rubbish on the floor. “We’ll set up a time to do homework together, classic. And who knows, maybe I won’t be able to make it, maybe I’ll have a nosebleed or maybe someone will run me over with their car, depending on how lucky I’ll get.”

“Moony, thank you. Sirius,” James turned to him, “can you keep an eye on Moony while I do homework with Evans next week?”

“Sorry, can’t. I’m taking a driving test that day,” Sirius shrugged, making them all laugh.

James finally chose Aladdin Sane out of the box of records, placed it onto the gramophone, and tapped it with his wand a few times. Then, the vinyl disc started spinning and music burst out of it.

“You are the tidiest werewolf that has ever lived,” Sirius landed on Remus’ bed and propped himself up on his elbows as he watched his friend, “and you call yourself a monster?”

All of the boys laughed at this before falling into a comfortable silence, filled only by the sound of music. Sirius watched Remus as the latter was cleaning out his trunk, pulling broken quills and chocolate wrappers out of it and tossing them into the small dustbin.

Sirius had been doing that quite often lately - watching Moony, as if it would help him figure out what he was thinking and feeling. He even caught himself a few times having gotten lost track of conversations he was participating in, forgetting to say anything, distracted by Remus’ enigmatic presence.

On one hand, Moony didn’t seem to be put off by the flirting, but then he didn’t really reciprocate it either. On quite a few occasions, Sirius wanted to ask him about the French boy, but he never knew how exactly. He wanted to know if Remus liked him, if he had been thinking about him, if he had been writing to him… But he was afraid of sounding too obvious in his concerns. He felt like these questions would have given him away. And what if the answers were not what he hoped and wished for?

He had the sudden urge to verbalise some of these questions as he lay across Remus’ bed, but before he could act on it, he rolled over on his back and closed his eyes. One song had just finished and a few quiet seconds later, the first chords of Drive-In Saturday rolled across the room. Sirius smiled to himself as his mind followed the song and drifted off to thoughts of Remus. He was mindlessly spinning his wand between his fingers as vivid memories of a dream he’d had a few nights ago swam into focus. He had held Remus close, he’d been touching his face and his hair, and gazing into his eyes; and it had felt so real when they kissed, and Sirius was reliving the dream all over again.

And then it happened so unexpectedly that he nearly jumped out of his own skin - a shower of red sparks shot out of his wand, narrowly missing Peter’s head as the latter was making his way towards the window. “What did you do that for!?” He yelped indignantly.

“I’m sorry, it was an accident,” Sirius was now kneeling on Remus’ bed, holding his palms up defensively.

Peter frowned at him before turning away to open the window. As Sirius dragged his gaze away from the boy, he saw James giving him an expressive look and then glancing at Remus quickly. The little gesture, Sirius was sure, was a reference to a surprisingly stern talking that James had given him a few days ago.

It was the morning after Sirius had fallen asleep in Moony’s bed. It had felt so surreal, not only sleeping wrapped around him, but also waking up inches from his face. But then James had gone all mental on him - he had talked about how recklessly Sirius was acting, how he mustn’t play with Remus until he gets tired of him, like most of his other romantic encounters. James had told him that Sirius needed to either tell Remus how he felt or get over it and move on. Otherwise, he had said, someone was bound to get hurt and the last thing he wanted to see was their friendship being ruined by it. As Sirius was thinking about it, he muttered Wingardium Leviosa and lifted a crumpled up chocolate wrapper out of Remus’ nearly-full dustbin. He spun it in the air a couple of times, right in front of his face, before flinging it across the room and into another bin with a flick of his wand.

Sirius couldn’t argue with James, he admitted to himself as he lifted another piece of Remus’ rubbish. After all, this wasn’t fun for him either. He wanted to be with Remus, he wanted to tell him that he was in love with him. But he was afraid of the definitiveness of Moony’s response. Sirius was afraid that if Remus said no, that would be the end of it, the death of any last hope.

As these thoughts mulled around in his head, Sirius charmed another piece of crumpled up paper to levitate out of the dustbin and stop in front of him. He was about to move his wrist to send it flying across the room when something caught his eye. Sirius stole a quick glance around to make sure that no one was looking at him, before snatching the piece of paper. He flattened it out a bit and as he looked down at it, a smile crept across his face. This had to be a sign, he thought as he crumpled the note with Vincent’s address on it and threw it into a bin on the other side of the dormitory.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black #peter pettigrew #james potter #lily evans #marauders #hogwarts #fanfic

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one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years

Text

“illusion”

Chapter 13

Yo it's been a while! Sorry about that, I've been busy working on another fic (Triad, if you want to check it out). Anyway, here's the beginning of a fierce battle lol- things will not go as planned. I also forgot how to write fight scenes lol but that's okay bc the emotional moments here are nice. Anyway, enjoy!

WARNINGS: description of graphic injury. Also, I’ll be making an sfw version of this soon so stay tuned!

AO3 LINK (WARNING- THE WORK IS OVERALL SPICY MINORS DNI)

"There are injured civilians and Magic knights throughout the city! Some might be shipped out as POWs soon, but that's why we're here, to stop it! Our primary objective is to clear the area of innocents and the injured, then wait for reinforcements from the Silver Eagles to arrive and drive out the enemy. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir!"

There's barely a second to waste, so Captain Hervey barks out his orders to us as we shoot towards the border town, finally coming into view. My heart is pounding, my hands gripping the wood of my broom handle so tight I'm surprised it hasn't cracked. Alice holds onto me as I drive, bent over a bit to avoid getting a face-full of my hair as the wind whips through it. All of us are here on brooms, except Julius, who went off ahead by himself to scout out the area. His absence just makes me more nervous. I hope he comes back soon- what if they were waiting for him, and he gets captured, or worse-

My thoughts are (thankfully) cut off as Hervey continues his spiel. "Once Julius gets back with info, I'll split you up into groups, then deploy you. Remember, try not to attack the enemy until all the civilians are out of the way."

I nod slowly to myself, my eyes still transfixed on the city. There's smoke rising, and I can hear magic blasts from afar. This morning, the vague order came directly from the Wizard King: "The border town of Lullin has been under siege from the Diamond Kingdom for three days. They have finally broken through the Crimson Lion Kings' defenses. Your squad will hold them off until the Silver Eagles arrive as backup."

And that was it. The strange thing is, none of us knew about this siege, even though it's been going on for three days! We land on the outskirts, out of sight from any of the forces inside. The town was walled, as are many border towns, and the fight is going on within the pit. Was it kept secret on purpose? Whatever was going on here, it was now our problem. The Grey Deer were used more as a diplomatic squad, escorting royalty, nobility, and foreign visitors. Most of the battling was done by the Silver Eagles and the Crimson Lions. But today must be desperate, because here we are, nervous as can be, getting ready to jump into our first real fight in a while.

"Well, at least we get to kick some Diamond ass!" Nigel, of course, is rearing to go, even though I suspect this newfound confidence is just a way to cover up his own nerves. He does a few lunge stretches, which at least lightens the mood. "Giles, lets have a contest!"

Giles, who looks like a corpse right about now, nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of his name being called. "Huh? I don't think this is the time for a contest!" he objects.

"No, no, it'll be easy!" Nigel smirks and hits his hand into his palm. "Whoever takes out the most diamond guys wins!"

"Take out? Like, KILL?!"

"No! Like- take out-"

"You didn't think this through, did you?" Alice asks, her face not matching her teasing tone. "Don't bother keeping count... just..." Her gaze drifts, and it's obvious that her next words are meant only for Giles.

"Don't... get yourself killed because you're distracted. Just survive." Her smile reappears, just a whisper. "Alright?"

Giles stares at her for a long second, the sunlight shining on his glasses. You can see the understanding start to dawn on his face, and even he manages to smile back, a smile meant to quell her worries.

"Of course. Right back at ya, Alice."

Suddenly, there's a loud whoosh and a CRACK in our encampment. We whirl around to see Julius land there as powerfully and gracefully as usual. My lips part for a moment in a quiet sigh of relief. He's back! And unharmed!

"Julius, what's the situation?" Hervey demands, turning to walk over to his Vice Captain. "How many are there?"

Julius takes a moment to catch his breath before answering. "A lot..." He shakes his head. "Maybe a hundred Diamond mages. Plus their General."

There's a worried murmur among the squad at the mention of the General. Instead of captains, the Diamond Kingdom army was led by their "8 Shining Generals," who were rumored to be as fearsome as they come. If one of them was here, and had already defeated the Crimson Lions, how on earth are we supposed to make any headway?

"Dear God..." Hervey twists his goatee anxiously, his forehead creasing at least five times as he considers what to do. "Do you know which one?" He glances up in time to see Julius shake his head. "Well, we're going in blind... perhaps we should stick to the perimeter-"

"The Crimson Lions are being kept hostage in the center of town," Julius cuts in before his captain can finish. "The General is stationed in there I believe. As for the residents, they're being kept in their homes in several areas of town. I don't know what the enemy plans to do with them, but I think we should try and evacuate them before the Silver Eagles arrive." He glances around at the rest of us. "We'll split into four groups. Three will sweep the houses and evacuate civilians. Me, Captain Hervey, and a few of you will head for the center and cause a distraction." His gaze hardens for a moment as the orders are issued. "We should be able to accomplish this quickly. I don't want any civilians to get caught up in battle once the Silver Eagles are here."

We all nod silently in agreement. Hervey opens his mouth to say something, but even he can feel it; When Julius spoke, everyone's nerves were eased, if only for a moment. For a moment... it was like Julius was the Captain.

With that, Hervey splits us up into groups and tells us to prepare ourselves. I get put into a group with Wren, Giles, and Martin, which I'm not thrilled about, but at this point I'm to jumpy to even care. Everyone is tense, their hearts pounding adrenaline through their bodies. Alice sits on a rock and taps her foot. Martin starts biting his nails. Malota and Hervey talk together quietly. Julius hasn't spoken- or looked at me for that matter- since we left the base. Now, he stands alone on the ridge overlooking the passage to town, his face turned away from me so I have no hope of reading it. But his shoulders are squared, his head held high, and his stance sure. Whatever lays ahead, he's ready and confident. My heart starts pounding for a different reason, but I shake my head to rid it of any intrusive thoughts.

I have to clear my head, to get ready for this... I have to focus more than anyone else here.

Using my Illusion magic is tricky enough, and even more so in the fray of battle. I have only seconds to read someone's face, cast my spell, and generate an image of something in their mind that will stop them from attacking me. Like with those bandits before, I'll probably go with injuries that will shock them. I squeeze my eyes shut taking in a deep breath.

Injuries... injuries...

It would be so much easier if I could see my own illusions, but by nature they only appear in the minds of my targets. I have to transmit that image as convincingly as possible if it's going to do anything. And in order to do that, I do... research. I have a box full of medical textbooks and trauma first aid manuals under my bed, which have some pretty realistic pictures inside. Every time I crack open a page, my stomach turns and I feel dizzy, but I force myself to look.

It hurts that much just to study... I can't imagine how it must feel to see that injury appear on your body.

But now I have to do just that. I have to hurt people again.

Maybe it'll feel nice... I suck in another breath through my nose, squeezing and releasing my fist a few times.

I've been hurt a lot lately... maybe it'll feel nice to finally hurt someone else.

I imagine what it'll be like, when enemies are attacking and I have no choice but to use my power. I already know, that every single one of them will have Lawrence's face plastered on in my mind's eye.

Before I can think to hard about it, I hear someone crying.

Blinking slowly, I remove myself from my trance and turn to see someone slumped behind a tree, their head hanging and their arms hugging themselves like they were the only real thing left in this world. "Um... are you okay?" I take a few cautious steps, walking into the treeline and realizing that it's none other than Cecelia who's crying.

As soon as she hears my voice, she looks up, her eyes already swollen and red. "Oh- uh- yeah-" She reaches up and starts to wipe her face frantically. "I-I just got really nervous for a second, I t-think I'll be fine now-" She lowers her hand and takes a deep breath. But, when she releases it, more tears burst out. With a whimper, she covers her face, her shoulders trembling.

She's scared. Well, we're all scared, but she lets it show on her face. Her eyes are overflowing with water and she bites her lip hard to keep it from twitching.

She's... so scared...

"Cecelia..."

Without really thinking, I walk forward and pull her into a hug. Cecelia freezes up for a moment, her face planted right into the fluffy shoulder of my robe. I give her a squeeze.

She's only 15... and yet she has to go to war with the rest of us.

"I don't really remember my first battle. I was your age though," I start to say, not exactly sure where I'm going with this. Lately, I'm the one who had to be comforted, so being there for someone else isn't coming as naturally as I would like. But I have to do the best I can. "I bet you won't even remember this in a few months."

Slowly, Cecelia nods and lets her hands come up to hug me back, but her crying does not cease. "Are you s-sure?"

...no.

"Of course." I stroke her hair gently, my heart clenching more and more.

Oh god... if anything happens to her...

"Hey, what's going on here?"

We both look up to see Alice peek around the tree, her eyes widening when she spots Cecelia's tears. "oh! CC..." Instead of being paralyzed like I was, Alice immediately melts into a grin before stepping forward. "Give me your hand."

Hesitantly, Cecelia, lets go of me and lets Alice take her small hand. Alice bends down just a little to look the girl in the eye, her irises glinting with golden determination. "You're nervous, right?"

Cecelia nods.

"You can say it, it's okay."

"I...I-I'm scared..."

"That's perfectly alright. But listen-" Alice clasps her other hand over Cecelia's. "You're in my group, right? So I'll protect you! No matter what. And you're going to protect me too!"

Cecelia's breaths are still shaky, but somehow she manages to smile as well.

"I will..."

"Promise?" Alice sticks out her pinky finger, causing Cecelia to giggle. They lock fingers and shake once.

"Promise!"

The somber air is gone now, replaced by something more hopeful. I let out a relieved sigh before turning to leave. I wish I was as good as Alice, I think sadly. She's so good at handling these types of delicate situations. She's always been my rock... Could Alice really be involved in my attacks? Was she really part of that plan?

... no. Of course not.

"Hey! You too!" I look back to see Alice and Cecelia looking at me. "Promise me you'll protect yourself, and everyone else in your team," Alice repeats.

"Well, maybe not Martin-" Cecelia pipes up, grinning as both Alice and I collapse into peels of laughter. "I'm kidding, guys!"

"Cecelia, never change-" I tell her through a giggle, reaching up to wipe my own eyes. "And yes... I'll protect everyone, I promise."

With that, there's only mere minutes before we have to set out. The fear in my veins is still there, but my new-found confidence beats it back into being silent. This is just like many fights and battles before. Maybe on a larger scale that I'm used to, but it's just another fight. A fight that I will probably forget within a few months. I leave Alice and Cecelia alone, stepping back out into the meadow. Once again, my eyes are drawn to Julius, still standing by himself on the ridge. Should I go say something? I gulp nervously, my heart fluttering a little. Part of me doesn't want to bother him, but at the same time, I wonder if I will regret passing up this one last chance.

"... hey."

Julius looks to his side as I finally walk up to him, my eyes fixed on the city in the distance. "Oh, hi. I was wondering if you were going to come keep me company."

I shoot a glance up at him to see him smiling, and my nerves melt away immediately. "Ah, I see... well, better late than never?"

"For sure." He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again to study my face. "Well... it's been an... eventful day, hasn't it?"

I gulp nervously, glad that we're facing away from the others because my face is definitely starting to heat up. "Um, yeah, I suppose it has-" I let out a breath of embarrassed laughter, the memories of earlier this morning flooding back. These past few days were crazy, and something tells me it's just going to get worse. "I'm sorry, I guess-"

"Sorry? For what?" Julius winks. "I enjoyed myself, you know." I raise an eyebrow, my heart pounding a little. Between last night and this morning, things between us have... escalated. And now, on the horizon of battle, there's nothing I'd like to do more than throw myself into his arms and hold him one last time. I'm sure he'll be fine, but I don't want to die without that...

But we can't. I feel eyes burning into our backs, watching us closely. Malota, I know, is watching. She and Alice alone know about me and Julius, and any wrong move could set off an explosion.

"If anyone should be sorry, it's me." Julius finally speaks again, his eyes narrowing slightly as sadness pools within them. My breath catches in my throat at the look, and I almost want to start crying right then and there. "I... hope you don't feel like I'm taking advantage of your situation, because you're vulnerable. And I hope you know that I was serious about everything I said before, and-"

Suddenly, he's the one who seems desperate to confess something, even though he's been honest with me from the very start. I can't do anything but stare at him blankly, dumbfounded that he's apologizing, before blinking away my shock.

"You're special to me."

And Julius... you have no idea how much I want to love you.

My heart strains hard at the walls I put up around it, begging me to set it free and finally surrender it to someone on my own terms. But this isn't a good time... in fact, it's the worst time possible. So I keep it imprisoned just a little longer.

"Julius-"

He stops talking as I reach out. I want to touch him, to rub up his chest, to grab the collar of his shirt and shut him up with a big kiss. And from the look in his eyes, I know he wants the exact same thing.

But I don't do that. I just let my hand land on his shoulder, like a good comrade would.

"You have nothing to apologize for. Honestly." I offer him a smile, one that I hope comforts me just as he does.

Slowly, Julius nods, then reaches out to grab my shoulder as well. We stand there, still, for a moment, but any longer and people would start to think. So I let go, and he does the same. "We need to go." Julius inhales deeply, the sadness gone from his eyes. "Be careful, alright? There's a lot I want to talk about when this is over."

"Oh?" I shoot him a wink as I step away. "And a lot you want to do with me, right?"

Julius's eyebrows pop up in surprise, but he can't suppress a grin, a slight tinge of pink appearing on his cheeks and nose. "Of course, of course. I still owe you a reward, don't I?"

I open my mouth in mock shock, even though that one comment is sending my heart reeling once again. Oh my god, I better survive today! I'm not sure what Julius has in mind for that "reward" but something tells me that it's going to be something I'll remember for a long, long time.

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

As soon as we part, the world descends into a blur. Hervey is once again shouting orders, and everyone jumps onto their brooms, ready to go. In one swam, we lift off the ground, but then our groups break off to surround the city. "Hey! Loser!" I look over to see Alice grinning at me as she starts to zoom away. The wind muffles her words, but I can just make them out. "See you later!"

"You too!" I smile and give her one last wave before turning away.

Wren, Giles, and Martin fly behind me, silent but already with their grimoires out. I squint my eyes against the wind as I watch the center of the city like a hawk, where Julius and the others will be causing a distraction.

Any second now... come on-

It happens; the entire area grows cold, and a huge spike of ice rockets up out of the earth like some evil, jagged tower. "There! That's the captain's magic! Let's go!"

"Hell yeah!" Wren lets out a hoot as we start to spiral down to our assigned sector of the city.

"Hold on! Don't go so fast!" I yell over to him. "Someone's gonna see us, we need to give them time to get distracted-"

"So? We're here for a fight!" Wren smirks. "Anyway, it's not like you're in charge, I'm the oldest here."

"Maybe Giles should be in charge!" Martin pipes up. "He has glasses, right?"

"Martin, that's the dumbest thing you've ever said." I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing to God that I had been paired with Julius or Alice or anyone other than these two. "Fine, Wren, you lead us, but for the love of GOD, please don't do anything dumb."

Wren's ego is just growing by the minute, and he even does a fist bump in midair. I roll by eyes at him before looking back down at the city, and notice some soldiers running out of a large building and towards the center of town. "There!" I point out. "That's where-"

"Where the prisoners are being held!" Wren cuts me off rudely. "Martin, you head towards the closest wall and start making a hole in it. I doubt we'll have time to escort the civilians to the main gate. And you two-" he glances over at Giles and I. "We're going in hot, so get ready!"

"Aye aye!" Martin swoops away towards an abandoned section of the wall, his brown grimoire already flipping open. I don't have time to watch him activate his wood magic and land, because Wren, Giles and I start our dive. The wind whips around us, and the few Diamond guards still stationed at the building finally notice us. "Look out!" They start to open their Grimoires, but it's too late.

"Illusion Magic: Sudden Death."

There's seven of them, more than I expected, but the two that I don't manage to transmit the illusion to stand there shocked as their comrades suddenly start screaming and clutching at their stomachs. "Huh? What the hell? What's wrong?"

"Feather Magic: Harpy's Fury!"

They look up just in time to see a barrage of sharpened feathers shoot down at them. The projectiles cut and stab, until the remaining enemies fall to the ground in an unconscious heap, just in time for the three of us to make our graceful landing.

"That was awesome! Did you see me take those guys down?! Did ya?!" Wren nudges one of the fallen with his boot, getting no reaction in return.

Giles puts his broom down and frowns curiously at the enemy through his spectacles. "What did you do to them?" he asks me. "I mean, what did you show them?"

I shrug. "Not much..." I gulp nervously, forcing myself to shut the images away in a compartment of my brain. "Intestines usually does it."

Giles winces a little, but shakes his head. "Well, you distracted them-"

"Come on! We're going to be slower than the other teams if you keep chit-chatting!" Wren yells, already halfway through the door. Giles and I exchange an exasperated look before running after him.

To our surprise, the first halls seem rather empty. If I had to guess, this is some sort of common area for the town. Which means that there's a large, central room, perfect for holding a large number of prisoners. There's probably more guards stationed around there-

Sure enough, we turn the corner and come across an opening. There's a large double door, barricaded shut, with three guards in front. They seem surprised to see us, but we don't give them time to act. Well, more specifically... Giles doesn't."

"Horn Magic: Mighty Ox!"

With a loud yell, Giles balls up his fists and punches forward with both at the same time. Right on cue, two sharp, massive horns form around them, spotless ivory shining in the lantern light. As he thrust forward, the horns broke free, rocketing towards the enemy. With a resounding bang, they went flying back, breaking through the door and skidding to a stop on the tile floor beyond. "There!"

"Damn, Giles-" I can't help but say, my mouth twisting into a smile. Giles, soft spoken, bookish Giles, was a beast! No wonder Alice liked him so much.

Giles brushes off his sleeves before giving me an uncharacteristically confident smile. "Surprised? You've seen this magic many times."

"Yeah? And it still blows me away every time."

"GUYS?" Wren suddenly wines. "Come on, we have a shit ton of people to save."

I don't answer, just sticking my tongue out at him briefly before running to enter the great hall. Just as we thought, it's packed to the brim with people, frightened civilians who are huddled together on blankets and flimsy looking cots. "Y-You're Magic Knights!" one of them exclaims, tears edging her eyes as she realizes that they are saved.

"Yeah, yeah, we're the Grey Deer." Wren crosses his arms as he "kindly" addresses the crowd. "Everyone, get up and get moving! We've prepared an escape route to get you all out of here before the Silver Eagles get here to kick these guys' asses!"

There's a flurry of movement as people jump up, grabbing their meager belongings and scrambling to get ready. Wren gives us a worried look, his eyes narrowing slightly. I know what he's thinking: this is going a little too smoothly. Let's get out of here. "Giles-" Wren turns to address him. "Make a hole in that wall over there. It's quicker than walking all the way back through the building."

Giles nods, bringing out his grimoire once again. "Right!" He directs his attention to the wall, his back to us. "Horn Magic-"

Midsentence, I see it appear on his back. A ball of energy shoots between Wren and I to hit him, and on impact I see his body freeze in place.

My eyes widen, not quite taking in the sight, not before it's too late.

"GILES-"

"AAAAAAH-"

Giles's body crunches up, a quickly growing spot of green foam spreading over his back. His shirt dissolves along with it, and I see that his skin has been burnt an angry red color. With one last agonized cry, Giles stumbles and falls to his knees, shaking with pain.

What?! Wren and I finally react, spinning around to see a group of ten mages coming into the room behind us. One of them, the man in front, wears a fluffy black coat, his hair slicked back over his head, and a wide, cruel smile on his face. Three stones are embedded in his head, one on each cheek and another above his lip. His grimoire is an acid green color, matching the magic that hit Giles, and floats open in front of him. Wren and I stay frozen in place, our heart pounding as if we were in the sights of an apex predator.

Because... that's exactly what this man is.

Almost in slow motion, he speaks.

"Slime Mold Magic... release."

A shuddering breath is ripped from Giles's throat as the magic leaves his body, returning to this man's Grimoire. I glance back to see him sit up, still pale and shaky. Shit! Who is this guy?! I turn back to look at this new enemy. He's strong, I can tell... oh god...

"You three... Magic Knights. I can tell that you're young." The mage licks his lips. "And full of potential. We value that in the Diamond Kingdom. It's not something I should waste." The way the words leave his lips is akin to a hiss from a snake. "So, I'll give you one chance... leave now, and I won't harm you."

"No way!" Wren immediately answers, his hand on his Grimoire. His eyes hold none of their usual mirth; only shrewd observation as he takes in his options. I nod slowly along with him, still formulating a plan of my own. "We came here to save these people, and that's exactly what we'll do."

The mage laughs, the cruel sound echoing through the hall. A few of the frightened civilians behind us are whimpering in fear. "Foolish children... do you really want to feel the wrath of one of the Shining Generals?"

"H-Huh?" The threat takes me by surprise and I can't help but let the gasping word leave my lips. "But..." I glance at Wren, who has gone pale as well. "Wasn't the General supposed to be in the center of town?"

"Silly girl." The Mage laughs again, louder this time, his Grimoire already flipping to a new page.

"Did you think we'd only send one?"

ooooooooooooh noooooo MC has to fight a shining general now... with two questionable comrades lol. How will this turn out? Find out whenever I decide to update again lol!

#black clover #spicy #illusion #fic #julius novachrono x reader #julius novachrono

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writing-the-end · 4 years

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LoL Chapter 11- Ashes in Asklepion

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )

A storm grows in the Valley of Danes, dark skies and death waiting to bear down on the hermits and their new allies. This time, they won’t run from the husks. This time, they fight

Warning: Minor character death, battle scene

____________________________________________

“They’re just standing there.” Wels whispers, pulling his sword to rest on the metal pauldron of his armor. “Like...like…”

“Like an army at attention.” False finishes. A whole line of husk monsters, grey flakes falling off monochrome forms. Devoid of life both in color and eyes. They were just that- husks. The remains of an animal, without soul or life to brighten the beast.

Tango opens his wings wide, and takes off into the air. Behind the hermits, the remaining members of the Asklepions are steeling themselves for another battle. Scar bites his lip, looking at the dirt and bloodstained white robes. None of these people should be fighting for their lives. None of these people should be using their healing powers to kill. Whoever is using this dark magic, using it against a peaceful guild like this, is a sick soul. Who even attacks a healing guild? They hold no danger.

Tango returns to solid ground. His broad red wings brush against the ashen dirt, smoke curling into the sky as embers reignite with the air around it. “I don’t see a crystal, I don’t see anything like what we saw in Gildara.”

“Do you know when they’ll attack?” TFC questions, turning to Galena.

The elderly healer nods her head, and points to the sky above the army. “Do you see that dark cloud? It is no storm, it is billowing ash, rising like an eruption from a volcano. Upon the first strike of red lightning, it will send the army into a frenzy. And they will attack. The thunder is their war horn. We don’t have long.”

“Scar, Stress, Ren, and Joe. Go and help build up defenses as quickly as possible.” TFC waves a hand in the direction of the guild hall, the black veins still visible on his healing arm. “Focus around where the wounded are hiding. Impulse, Iskall, and BDubs- I want you to set up traps. Hopefully we can slow them down, or get rid of at least a few.”

“Can’t there be a way to free these creatures from the dark magic?” Micha questions, holding his hands to his chest. “It hurts me to see them in such pain, but death?”

“They’re already dead.” Xisuma states. “There is no soul, no life left in those creatures. Dark magic is just puppeteering them.”

Micha steps back, lip quivering. Zedaph offers a warm smile, understanding the kipling’s worries. But Iris’s jaw clenches, fingers wrapping around a brand new weapon- a hoe. “I’m tired of waiting to die! I’m tired of waiting for them to attack us!”

Iris lets out a hoarse yell, and streaks past the hermits. She jumps through a rising wall of stone, crossing the field of flowers and raising her tool high. “Iris no!”

Lightning strikes. And the horde washes forward, down the hill, ashen forms of monsters and beasts roiling like a wave across the burnt grass. Smoke kicking up from the hooves and paws and claws, digging into the ruined soil, hungry for death. Iris’s magic circle appears, as white as the dress she wears, brushing outward and towards the snapping maws before her. The equine legs of an uisage, once sea-green fur a withered grey the color of a storm at sea, snap under the weight of her magic.

And jaws snap into Iris. The deadly fangs of a chimera, venom dripping from the fangs, grab hold of the young healer. The entire valley of Danes falls silent, the Hermits unable to take their eyes away from the sight as Iris falls still, her form losing it’s color.

Losing it’s life. Sapped from her, leaving only the husked form of the wizard behind. By the time the chimera has let go, training it’s eyes on the remaining living targets, Iris is gone- yet still standing. The husk remains of Iris rolls it’s shoulders, skin the color of flint. Even the stains on it’s dress had lost all color, all life. A few flecks of ashes brush into the sky as it blinks, eyes devoid of any life. There were no irises on Iris- no soul left to fill it’s eyes.

It’s fierce gaze is turned back on the hermits and Iris’s once fellow healers. The husk’s hand reaches out, and a magic circle appears. Just as corrupted and erratic as the husk the hermits faced way back in Gildara. Realization hits Wels first. “Get down!”

He grabs False by the arm, pulling her to the side a breath before the released magic strikes her. It doesn’t miss, instead lashing into a healer. The sickening crack of bones rattles across the broken complex surrounding them. The other hermits roll away from the magic, Stress leaping from her broken ice wall and tucking into a roll. The swarm of monsters have reached their defenses. The massive body of grootslang careens into Scar’s stone walls. It’s twisted tusks dig into the ground and attempt to rip through the material. One tusk breaks off, the debris falling apart like ash and clay. The jagged end spews smoke, but the monster doesn’t stop, continuing to throw it’s weight against the walls.

The hermits fall back, bracing for the sieged gates to collapse. Wels pulls free his sword, metal glimmering as he conducts magic through the blade to buff his allies. BDubs wraps his arms in vines, hearing the crunching noise of Keralis snacking and activating his powers. Jevin waves his hand, magic swirling to life before him, and a squadron of blue slime warriors collect together, standing at attention. Ready to fight. Team ZIT bump their fists, embers of magic and mischief sparking free from each one’s hand. Cleo and False brandish their own weapons, and from behind Iskall and Grian snap their fingers, circles appearing in their hands. Mumbo attempts to call his own magic, but it stutters with each crack of stone and ice.

The ice has nearly collapsed. Mumbo whimpers, drawing his circle again. It fails once more. His hands are shaking as he presses the pad of his index finger into the air. A wrinkled hand rests on Mumbo’s sleeve, warm and comforting. Galena whispers her finger close, completely ignoring the impending army. Mumbo kneels down, letting the elderly healer whisper in his ear. “I know you can do it, sonny boy. Take a deep breath-” She breathes in, “and let out all those worries.”

When her voice exhales, Mumbo blinks away magic cresting his long, black lashes. His hands have stopped shaking, his heart stopped pounding. He attempts to draw his circle again- it works. “Wha-what did you do? Did you buff me, give me strength?”

“Not all healers deal in physical wounds. But in the end, it’s up to the body to heal itself- we just help it along.” Galena smiles, and steps back.

Ice cracks and stone shatters, raining down upon the healers and hermits. Joe brushes his quill to the side, and the debris goes flying, as if smacked by a giant’s hand. Grian blows away the remaining bits and pieces, until only pebbles bounce off their heads. They have more important things to focus on.

The army of husks surge through the opening. Immediately, a tarasque barrels through the hermits. A spiny shell tears at cloaks and bowls over those who don’t jump away fast enough. Grian and Tango take to the sky, red and white wings beating against the air. Grian waves down to Cleo. “A pack of kishi are coming in on your left!”

Cleo turns, green lips curling into a smile. She pulls her captain’s hat low. Strikes her blade into the ground. If there was one thing a healer’s complex had, it was ghosts, ghouls, and skeletons. Misty white and sickly green transparent beings rise from the ground. All Cleo has to do is point her sword. The undead attack the possessed, ghosts haunting forms and skeletons charging into battle.

Black and green robes flutter above Cleo, and Xisuma tosses a spell into the horde of kishi. The ravaging, two faced pack of monsters are engulfed by the void The ghosts and skeletons remain. Xisuma’s magic is as precise as everything else he does. His boots scrape against the stone walkway, landing next to Cleo. “You distract and I’ll engulf?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Cleo grins, and the two take off into battle. They run past Stress, Ren, and Iskall. Iskall thrusts his fist into the stone, the ground erupting as radioactive iskallium seeps up into the attacking monsters. The green goo erupts upward, and with a giggle Stress freezes the material. Ren closes his eyes. His imagination goes to work. The ruddy color of his circle fuses into magical wheels, and he sends the imagined cart trundling into the monsters. Spiking the radioactive ice into a drake, a hippogriff, and two lavellans. The husk forms collapse into piles of ash, dark magic billowing with the forms. Swept into the wind and away from the valley.

The battle continues on. Lifesavers become lifetakers, healers fighting side by side with the hermits. An illegal guild fighting next to one of the most renowned licensed healers in the world. At first, they were winning. Defeating the husks as fast as they arrived, only a few scratches and wounds delt across the survivors.

At first. In the clash of battle, Doc hears a shout. The elongated fangs of a many-mouthed cipatli digs into his metal arm, but he ignores the gnashing teeth against the wires and magical components of his arm in lieu of finding the source of the scream. Through the battle, past the explosion of Impulse as he leaps away, Micha is on the ground.

The husk of Iris looms over him, black magic circle spun and ready to release. Doc pushes through the battle, rushing forward and ripping off the scaly husk on his arm. He can hear Micha begging, calling out to Iris. “It’s me, your friend! Iris, please you have to be in there! You know me, I’m Micha!”

The husk doesn’t blink, doesn’t flinch. His words are falling on deaf, unhearing ears. Iris’s thumb comes to rest on her middle finger, pressing down and ready to snap. Ready to release it’s magic and surely do something horrible to Micha.

Doc isn’t going to let that happen. He growls, and thrusts his own hand forward. A stone statue creaks, and rises from her pedestal. Gigantic arms, cloaked in smooth marble robes, rise up into the ashen sky. Doc closes his eyes.

And opens the stone statue’s. He can see through her eyes, see the husked remains of Iris standing at her feet. WIth little second thought, he punts the husked remains away from Micha. Iris disappears in a puff of ash and smoke, form released from the dark magic that sapped her energy. Her soul.

Doc straightens the statue’s back, the ten foot tall form looming over the fight before him. He watches Micha stand, only for one of his fellow healers to fall. Doc steps forward, watching as Grian falls from the sky. Struck by the massive wings of a Roc, and thrown into the collapsing roof of a building. For being the group’s healer, he had a way of getting himself hurt.

They were at a stalemate. Hermits just barely keeping the husks from moving further, bracing their wounded bodies against the monsters and losing ground as fast as they gain. He could even see himself, standing stock still in the middle of the battle. Scar was at his side, haphazardly throwing up a wall around the body of his friend. Protecting his physical form while his mind was within the statue he controls.

TFC steps back, watching as the massive stone statue throws it’s weight against the grootslang, tussling with it in a fight worthy of the ancient ones. He can see they aren’t winning- but they aren’t losing either. Last time, they fled the dark magic. They didn’t understand it. But this time, they can’t run. They have to protect the valley of Danes, and the few remaining healers left. How can they turn the tide?

TFC watches Etho jump from shadow to shadow, landing blows against any unsuspecting husk. He tips his head up, looking at the darkened storm above the monsters. And an idea sparks like a flash of lightning. “Grian, use your wind magic against the storm above you!” TFC calls out to Grian, watching the winged hermit pry himself free from the collapsed building he was flung into. “Joe, can you summon something big to control the weather?”

“You betcha.” Joe pulls out his quill, sidestepping a raging ngepet. The wind picks up around him, Grian’s wings pulsating and picking up force with each sweep. Joe doesn’t bother himself, letting his quill glide along his paper, writing out a poem as his elaborately embroidered cape snaps against his legs. “One big bird coming right up.”

He signs the last letter of the poem, and from the storm a shadow appears. A thunderbird, with the caw as sharp as lightning, joins Grian in collapsing the storm. Sunlight seeps through, and when TFC looks back at the fighting hermits, he sees the tide has turned. The storm weakens, as does the husks. They don’t stop fighting, even taking down another healer and slashing a cut into Zedaph’s arm, but they’re losing.

The husks don’t back down, even when the last monster is backed into a corner. Snarling and on full offensive. Something about dark magic must make them violent beyond thought. No sense of self preservation- TFC can only guess since it’s already dead, what more is there to lose?

The last of the smoky grey ash cloud disappears, and False strikes down the ngepet that earlier tried to take out Joe. Silence falls across the gardens, only the sound of wind and Doc’s statue returning to her pedestal as commentary to the scene before them. They killed the entire army, drove off the storm. But not without heavy losses. Galena helps the only surviving healer from the fight to his feet- Micha. “Thank you, hermits. You...none of us would be around if it wasn’t for you all.”

“Do you think the invasion is over? Is Danes safe?” Doc questions, stumbling back into his form. Blinking his eyes, rolling his broken robotic arm.

Galena nods. “That was them all. You did more than I could’ve ever hoped for.” Galena looks around, at the shattered remains of her guild. Her home destroyed, her members gone. “My best decision ever was to reach out for you.”

“I’m sorry, I wish we could do more.” Grian whispers, holding his arm into place. He may have dislocated it.

“The Asklepions may be in ruins, but we are much harder to destroy than you think. We will rise from the ashes, like a phoenix.” Galena whispers. “This is not the first time I have seen a guild rise and fall around me. Even among the Council guilds.”

Xisuma perks up, curious. “You were in a council guild?”

Even Micha looks surprised. Galena nods him away, off to check on the wounded back in the guild hall. “Long, long ago. Yes, I was a member of a Council Guild. That was before things changed, when Lairyon was a different place.” Galena turns away. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can offer you money for your hard work. But...what about something a little more valuable?”

“What do you know, guildmaster Galena?” Xisuma, ever hungry for more knowledge, is practically on his knees to hear more.

“Dark magic like this needs a mage to control it. And that mage needs somewhere to hide their work. Where better to hide forbidden magic than under the very noses of the leaders who forbid them?” Galena shakes her head, running withered fingers along the crystal in her staff. She glances back at the hermits, a youthful glimmer in her eyes. “When I was younger, there were always rumors of dungeons beneath the capitol. I never found anything, but you all are quite clever- when you put your heads together.”

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leobashi · 4 years

Text

I’m thinking about two small scenarios of some universe or universes but I swear I haven’t forgotten about my other AUs. I just really wanted some good angst and feelies between the boys. These could probably just be touched up and become one shots really, because idk if I’m gonna be expanding the universe beyond what’s already written. #1 is AntiAverage and #2 is Marvelseptic. Feel free to use them as inspo with credit

----1----

Anti has attacked Chase in an alley way. Chase is doing more defending than he is attacking. There’s cuts all over his torso, but they’re all shallow slices. He gets knocked to the ground and his hat flies off. He thinks at this point, it’s best if he just gets out of the situation and tries crawling away, but Anti flips him on his back, straddles him, and wraps his hands around his neck.

Chase is taken by surprise and grabs at Anti’s arms. He gasps for air and squints up at Anti. His eyes are a dark green, unusual compared to the bright neon green he was used to seeing all the time. Anti wore a deep frown and his arms were trembling, but strong still. Chase groaned at the weight and tried to speak.

“I... loved... you...” he whispered as best he could. The weight on his neck was lifted, if only for a moment, before coming back down harder.

“And you still do, don’t you?” Anti growled, not really asking, but saying it as if it was a fact. “I love you too, but things have changed. I can’t have you by my side anymore.”

Tears suddenly sprang to Chase’s eyes, but he wasn’t sad. No, he was angry. He clawed and scratched at Anti’s arms, struggling for a breath and for an answer. “Why?” he thought. “Why? Why? Why did you leave me? Why can’t we be together if you still love me? Why can’t you have me here with you? What has changed? What did I do wrong?” But all those thoughts were left unsaid.

Instead, Chase started seeing spots in his vision as his air started to run out. He felt Anti leaning down further and press a kiss to his head. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” he chanted against him before Chase stopped his struggling and passed out underneath his former lover.

In this universe, Chase and Anti were once dating, but something triggered Anti to change suddenly. Out of the blue, Anti broke up with Chase and disappeared. He returned, months later, in a fight with the town superhero, JackieBoyMan. Not once had Anti ever acted like that when they were together. He tries to reach out to Anti during these fights and finds himself getting seriously hurt and targeted. Anti does this in hopes of getting Jackie to become more protective of Chase and keep him out of the way. It works when Chase finds himself waking up in Jackie’s apartment after the alley encounter. Chase is conflicted and confused. He debates on telling Jackie the truth about his relationship with Anti, but wondering if there is something bigger that is happening that he shouldn’t be meddling with and worried about Jackie’s reaction.

----2----

The other idea is based off of the lyrics of Donut Hole by Gumi. It was suggested to me on instagram.

Jackie is in a constant war with Anti. He follows the demon around trying to defeat him and bring him to justice. But there is a gap in his memory. He knows that during this gap, Anti had gained a silent sidekick. He knows this sidekick only as the Magician.

The Magician wears a cat mask and follows Anti around, aiding in his plans. Rarely does the Magician join in to fight him whenever they get into an encounter, but Jackie saw what he could do. His magic roared red and has brought terror among so many.

During one of his travels as he was following Anti’s trail, he meets another wizard who managed to detect a strong and well hidden memory spell. It turns out the gap in his memory was magically induced. The wizard offers to help him remove it and Jackie says yes.

He regains his memory slowly, but the one recurring thing he sees is the Magician. But he isn’t with Anti? These memories feel happy and makes his heart swell. He also sees the Magician without his mask and he does his best to see the face behind it, but he just can’t remember. It consumes his thoughts and he becomes distracted.

The next time he encounters Anti, he tries his best to focus on the fighting, but suddenly, when he sees the Magician standing back and waiting for the fight to be over, he slips and gets knocked to the ground. Tired and confused, Jackie stays on the ground and lets a new memory wash over him.

He and the Magician were sharing tender moments together. They were choosing out earrings for each other, they were sharing food, they were sharing the same bed. They were both smiling and bathing in each other’s presence.

He comes back from the memories when Anti places his boot on his chest. “Ready to give in hero?” Jackie groans, but he is focused on the Magician. He turns to him and shouts at him.

“Who are you!? What did you do to my memory!?” The Magician is taken aback and for the first time, Jackie hears him speak.

“Anti, we need to leave.” Jackie is surprised at how soft his voice is. It sounds so familiar to him, but why? He wants to hear more.

But instead, he hears Anti laugh above him. “Afraid for your little hero? Don’t worry.” Anti digs his heel deeper into his chest. “I guess this is a special case. I won’t beat him up too much today.” Anti backed off and quickly glitched away to his sidekick. Jackie sat up just in time to see the Magician’s eyes locked onto him from behind the mask and the two disappear.

Somehow, in a different part of the story, the two are together, alone, and fighting. The Magician is doing his best to keep Jackie down and escape, but Jackie is desperate for answers. The Magician refuses to hurt him though, he seems to be holding back.

Jackie manages to get a good hit on the Magician and knock his mask off. Immediately, the Magician takes multiple steps back and covers his face with his hands. Through his fingers, Jackie can see his eyes, bright purple with wisps of pink. Jackie felt his breath catch in his throat.

He remembers a scream, a shield of pink, and a cry. His own cry. He remembers feeling pain, and he remembers those eyes staring into his own with tears threatening to fall.

He clutches his head, conflicted between the memories and the present. Who was this Magician? How did they know each other? Why does he care so deeply for him?

Jackie takes a moment to calm down before looking back up again. The Magician is breathing hard and hunched over himself, trying to avoid eye contact and covering his face with his hair. He uses this to his advantage. “I remember you. I remember that you liked vanilla cake and strawberries. I remember I helped you choose those star earrings. I remember that night we danced together for the first time.”

The Magician started shaking his head, chanting underneath his breath, “No. No. No. No. No.”

Jackie took a step closer to him. “I remember when you took me to the beach for my birthday.”

“Shut up.”

He took another step. “I remember watching the stars with you.”

“Shut up.”

The memories became clearer with every step he took. “I remember when we confessed our feelings to each other.”

“Shut up!”

It tore his heart apart, remembering more and more. “I remember loving you.”

“Shut up!” The Magician was trembling and his red magic looked almost pink, whirling around the figure, but avoiding Jackie.

“But I can’t remember your face. I can’t remember your name. And it’s tearing me apart. Who are you? Please. Can I see you?” He takes another step closer and he’s right in front of the Magician, who’s sobbing. Jackie reaches to pull his hands away from his face, but suddenly, he’s thrown back by red wisps. He lands on his back and feels himself being straddled.

The Magician planted his hands on either side of Jackie’s head and screamed at him, tears spilling over and falling on Jackie’s face. “I loved you! I still do! But this is for your own good! This is so hard for me Jackie! I made a deal I can’t go back on now! I can’t have a world where you don’t exist!”

But none of it reached Jackie. He was staring at the Magician’s face, taking in every detail as if it was new, but it felt so familiar to him. The only new feature was the four pink jagged lines running through the Magician’s left eye.

And the name spilled from mouth. “Marvin,” he whispered. The Magician stopped and looked down at him in surprise.

“N-no. You’re not supposed to remember...” he spoke, voice trembling. He sat up and started shaking all over. “You can’t do this! I can’t be letting this happe-”

Jackie cut him off, pulling him by his collar and kissing him. It felt new, but it also felt like coming home. He stared into the Magician’s eyes, wide open in surprise. He remembered him, all of him, and what they were, what they shared between them.

“Marvin. Your name. It’s Marvin,” he spoke into his lips.

----

Idk how to end this, but in this universe, Jackie and Anti are enemies. Jackie pursues Anti, trying to stop him and his spread of chaos. But one year, he meets Marvin and falls in love. When they are attacked by Anti, Jackie gets fatally injured despite Marvin doing his best to protect him. He begs Anti to save him, unable to live without Jackie in his world. He makes a deal with Anti, Jackie will be saved and Anti will not kill him in any of their battles as long as Jackie does not come close to killing him and Marvin will become his servant. Marvin, desperate, but also aware that Anti may use him against Jackie, agrees, but erases Jackie’s memory of him. He hopes that Jackie may be able to defeat Anti one day and maybe then, they can be together again.

I imagine that after this encounter where Jackie remembers everything, Marvin still runs back to Anti, leaving Jackie behind. He was, and continues working on the memory spell, a stronger one, so that he can ensure that Jackie will never remember meeting him. He doesn’t want to risk Jackie’s life, knowing that Jackie will now be more reckless and push himself farther after remembering who Marvin is. And he’s right. Jackie fights harder and pursues them fervently, now wanting to know why Marvin is working for Anti unwillingly.

#shoot guys #i hope it comes across okay #i really didn't mean to write this much #especially the second one #but oh well #it's here now #does anybody have any writing tips?#lost year au #marvelsepticeye #antiaverage #leo writes

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imaginetings · 5 years

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I can’t lose you (Barnaby Lee Imagine)

Y/N - Your Name

L/N - Last Name

Word Count - 1179

Warnings - Spoilers for HPHM (Year 6 Chapter 18) and death, oh and angst. We love angst.

Requested? - Nope :)

Notes - I’m emotional and I feel like this was word vomit but enjoy! Also, the reader is Slytherin. *not my gif*

When those two words left Rakepick’s mouth, I froze. The killing curse. Merula and Ben lay on the forest floor behind me and I was frozen, and everything went so quick and so slow that I didn’t realise I was being pushed down as the green light was coming towards me. Before I knew it, Rakepick was gone and there on the floor was Rowan. Sobs rack my body and I hold Rowan’s body and just somehow in some way Rowan will wake up. That never happened. Merula and Ben tried to make me let go but I couldn’t. My best friend is dead. Rowan died because of me.

After that everything was a blur, Tulip said it was the shock. I don’t remember the assembly about Rowan, I didn’t remember Penny telling me that she has told Rowan all about “R” and I definitely didn’t remember Merula having a go at Barnaby when Snape was announcing the lift of the ban and that we could go to him.

What I do remember was being in the three broomsticks and people exchanging stories about Rowan. Then realising that I couldn’t remember the last time Rowan and I had spent time with each other if it wasn’t in class or doing things to do with the cursed vaults.

Talking with Merula and Ben made me realise that amongst all of this, I’m left feeling a void and angry.

It had been weeks since Rowan’s death and it seems like everyone bar Merula and Ben have already moved on. I became more secluded and hellbent on getting back at Rakepick and R.

I stopped playing quidditch and instead was looking for clues for the final cursed vault. I can feel myself getting closer to it. Then one day, as I am practising in the Forbidden Forest a twig snaps and I turn around, ready to cast a hex.

Out from the shadows came Barnaby. “Hey Y/N,” Barnaby utters hesitantly. I lower my wand and smile meekly at him. It was after the date I had with him that everything had happened, and I guess I had shut him out, but I can’t risk anybody getting hurt again. It was the final straw with Rowan dying.

“What are you doing here Barnaby?” I ask and sit down on a tree stump and he joins me.

“Checking up on you. You’ve pushed yourself away from all of us after what happened to Rowan. Are you okay?” Barnaby explains and I feel tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away.

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be? My best friend died because of I and I can’t get the picture of her dead body and Rakepick casting that spell out of my head and everyone else is acting as if nothing ever happened and I still have to deal with this statue curse and to make sure nobody else gets hurt because of me!” I explain frustrated and stand to go and walk away, but Barnaby catches my arm and I’m spun around into his chest stuck inside of his embrace.

“I know it sucks but you don’t have to go through this alone Y/N, you have all of us. After all, us Slytherin’s stick together and we can get anything we want since we’re ambitious after all.” Barnaby tries to comfort me, and I push myself out of the embrace.

“That’s it, Barnaby, I need to be alone. If I’m not someone else will get hurt and I love all of you too much to see any of you go through that. I can’t lose anybody else, especially not you.” I utter out, a sob in my throat fighting its way out. “So please Barnaby, go! I can’t do this to you. Not until this is all over,” I explain and walk away from him leaving him stood there. I don’t know if he cried because I didn’t turn back.

After that encounter, I only occasionally talked to Merula and that was in passing. I avoided everyone to the best of my ability.

Before long, Merula, Ben and I got into the final cursed vault. It was a showdown because R was there as well, but before anything could happen to Merula and Ben I flipendo’d them out of the room and locked the door.

A duel with a dark wizard? It wasn’t the first time.

The odds were most certainly stacked against me. A seventeen-year-old wizard against a dark wizard with many years of experience. So, we duelled.

A back and forth of spells went on for what felt like forever but in reality was only a few minutes and just as the door is blasted open I have an opening and defeat the dark wizard with an Incendio.

It sets the cape of “R” alight and it’s put out by another voice shouting “Aguamenti! Jesus Christ Y/N, why would you lock your friends outside of the vault you could have been killed!” Jacob.

“It’s more than what you were doing, brother. I only went looking in these stupid vaults for you but that led to my best friend dying and I wasn’t going to take a chance with them. Now what I am going to do is take whatever is in here to Dumbledore because you don’t deserve anything from here. Not after all of the pain and chaos, this has caused.” I sternly speak and turn to the column that holds the “treasure of the cursed vaults” before taking it and leaving. The shouting of Jacob is distant to me. This is for Rowan.

Taking the treasure to Dumbledore was an easy task. Having to face everyone else was the tricky task.

After leaving Dumbledore’s office I am ambushed on the lower west floor and taken into the great hall by my ambushers. My first observation is that the great hall is decorated in Slytherin colours much like it is at the end of the year when Slytherin win the house cup.

My second observation is everyone looking at me and by everyone, I mean everyone. That’s when Merula approaches me alongside Penny, both with grins on their faces. Before I know it, I’m no longer on the floor and perched on the shoulder of Hagrid and that’s when people start chanting the wretched nickname of “Curse-breaker!” I feel my face become heated before I am put back down and I am face to face with Barnaby.

“I know you wanted to protect us, but it’s over now. We’re all safe thanks to you Y/N, I think you and I both know Rowan would want you to relax now and you can.” Barnaby states and that’s when my mouth upturns into a smile and tears prick my eyes of joy. That’s when I tackle Barnaby who spins me around and whilst doing so connects our lips.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Barnaby.”

Even after all the neglect and pushing people away for help, in the end, it all turned out okay, and it was all for Rowan.

#harry potter hogwarts mystery imagine #harry potter hogwarts mystery x reader #barnaby lee imagine #barnaby lee x reader #barnaby x mc

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tcstu · 4 years

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September’s Honorable Mentions

As I mentioned in the winning post, this was an immensely difficult month to judge. Each writer had a completely different take on what was happening in this picture. I want to take the time to thank @pinatadoodles for creating this adorable piece that can be interpreted in so many interesting ways. I hope you will enjoy reading these stories as much as I did.

As a reminder, this is a digital painting called, “Right Off the Pages” and it was created by @pinatadoodles. If you like this picture, make sure to visit this artist’s page to see more original pieces and fanart.

Also, if you enjoy any of the stories below, I know the writers would love to hear from you!

(These stories are listed in the order they were received. They are not presented in any system of ranking.)

Submitted by: Evan @evanthenerd83

“No More Stories”

Jimmy hadn’t opened it in months.

It used to be a habit of his, a nightly ritual to read from the ancient tome.

He’d flip through the pages and read the words printed on them. Then, he’d watch as they came out.

Characters.

Knights in shining armor, riding white steeds into battle. Princesses trapped by fearsome dragons, begging for help.

Wizards with rivalries, spells whizzing past Jimmy’s head and dissipating.

It used to be fun. Enchanting.

Until the dragons started to get angry. And the witches grew tired. Being defeated again and again had taken its toll on them.

He still remembered the heat of fire.

The pain of sewing needles sliding into his joints.

The gnarled hands that reached out, clawing at his pajama collar, nails blackened by dried blood.

The tome had been stuffed underneath his bookshelf, where it truly belonged.

Submitted by: Allie @whatishappeningrightnow

Untitled

It was his favorite time of the night. The time where the moon was high and glimmering in the deep indigo sky, filled with gems and shining stars. It was supposed to be bedtime- but how could he sleep when there were fascinating stories to read?

He pulled out a book, quietly turning on his stary lamp and laying down in his tent. The words swam in front of him- a dazzling display of wizards and dragons- sentences painting pictures of red searing flames and magical spells. How the imagination could really bring things to life.

The boy was immersed, reading and letting his imagination show him the realm in which he so loved- bringing it to life in front of him.

A dragon flying high into his room- scarlet scales shining in the light created by flames. A world so deep he could stick his hand in- only to be burned by the crimson flowers planted by the dragon's breath. It amazed him. Glowing smoke emerged from the pages- yet no marks to be made. The light reflected on the dragon's sequins so perfectly, illuminating the room and warming his skin. A toy castle with no knight as no knight was needed. The beast did no damage, just elegantly drifting in the air in front of the boy. A picture worth a thousand written words.

Oh- how could he sleep indeed.

Submitted by: Emily Fowl @emilyelizabethfowl

Untitled

Bruno did not expect to like this new book.

It looked old. Like the kind of books they put behind a window in a library, so you couldn’t even touch them, let alone read them. Only this one looked more battered.

But once he opened it, an old tower popped up. Made of real stone, it even had moss at the bottom! And there was a real dragon! It could even breathe fire!

It talked a lot, too. About its world, its magic and princesses. And it promised Bruno could visit!

“Hey, pipsqueak!” the doors to Bruno’s room opened, and the book closed. “It’s sleepy time!”

“Look, Auntie!” Bruno turned around with a smile. “Look, dad’s got me a new book!”

Seeing it, Auntie blanched.

“That looks amazing,” she said with an unconvincing smile. “Can I take a look while you brush your teeth?”

Bruno handed it to her as he headed to the bathroom.

He didn’t want to eavesdrop on Auntie Viri and dad, but the walls were thin and they spoke loudly.

There was the thump of a book landing on the table.

“How could you give this to him?” Auntie said.

The TV switched off a moment later, and it probably wasn’t dad’s choice.

“It’s just a book, Viri,” Bruno’s dad said in the tone that always had an eye-roll accompanying it.

“Just a book?!” Auntie’s voice had gone all shrill. “How can you say that?”

Dad stayed silent, clearly baffled. Bruno was almost afraid to spit out the toothpaste, hesitant to break the quiet.

“Peter…” If Bruno hadn’t already left the bathroom, he wouldn’t have heard that. “How did we meet?”

Dad had scrunched his eyebrows, “I was too young when our parents adopted you, you know that.”

“You were twelve! Don’t you remember Tameria? Being a knight?”

"We made it up, Viri. I had a bucket for a helmet and a stick for a sword. All make-believe."

Using the distraction, Bruno took his book back. He really wanted to see that armoury the Dragon promised him.

All it took was a single handshake, and he found himself inside the tower. It looked like a museum room. The bed even had curtains!

Skipping to the doors, Bruno nearly crashed into them when they didn’t open.

There was no key and the handle fell off when he tugged harder.

“Dragon?” Bruno called out from the window, only now noticing the bars crookedly melted into the stone. “How do I get out?”

“Oh, you don’t,” the dragon’s snout appeared in the window. “You’re never leaving. Not like she did. I won’t allow it.”

“She?” Bruno asked, but the dragon was already gone.

He turned around, searching for another way out, instead just noticing the painting.

And the girl on it looked very familiar, even with longer hair and a tiara. “Princess Viriona of Tameria,” the plaque said.

And on the wall besides it, what he thought merely a pattern, had been thousands of tally marks.

Submitted by: @nadunacreates

Untitled

Bunny was old, and he was tired. His fur had long since lost its shine, his ears were frayed and his paws almost chewed-through, by dogs and children alike.

Bunny was old and tired and he’d lost his tail so long ago he didn’t even remember what it felt like, but—

But still, he sat up a little straighter, despite the missing tail, perked up his frayed ears and listened closely, whenever Momma turned on the Special Lamp to make Stars appear all over the bedroom walls, when she took out the Book and patted the spot on the bed beside her in invitation, when she lowered her voice and started to whisper.

“Once upon a time,” she would say, and Bunny didn’t feel old or tired, because there was something alive brimming in his stuffing, something that made him yearn for a time so long ago, a place so far away, an Adventure he could barely remember. “Once upon a time,” she would say, and Bunny closed his eyes and listened to the tales spun by Momma’s voice.

Bunny wasn’t always old, wasn’t always tired. There’d been a time when he flew with dragons and rescued princesses from towers, a time when he helped defeat the evil witch and was crowned the king in thanks. When he danced on fancy balls and saved kittens from trees, stopped the war and drank with Snow White’s dwarves. When he fell in love and died and came alive again by True Love’s kiss, when magic was only the flick of a finger away.

These nights with their Stars and Momma’s Stories helped him remember that, so that he didn’t feel as old and forgotten as he did during the day, when he sat on a shelf and looked on as the children played, sat and looked on and didn’t get to rescue princesses or ride dragons anymore.

Story Nights meant he’d be remembered, grabbed by his fraying ears and crushed against a warm chest, clutched tighter whenever the hero almost failed. And then, when the story was over, the Happy Ending earned, he’d get to watch over the child as they slept — and they were no princess in a tower, but they were meant to be kept safe anyway, no matter what.

Momma tucked the book away and whispered “good night,” but she never turned off the Special Lamp, because she knew how much he liked to watch the stars.

She’d been the one, after all, once upon a time, who poked her chubby little fingers at each one and told him their names, and that they’d watch over the both of them, because she knew he was afraid of the dark, but it was okay, she was, too.

But Bunny was never really afraid, not of anything, because he was with her.

He’s old, now, and tired, but that’s okay, because she is, too.

She has two dogs and two children, a third one on the way, a wife who she adores and who adores her in turn, and still she takes the time, every night, to remember little old Bunny.

And his fur may be worn out, patches of grey amid the blue, his ears may be frayed and hanging on by a thread — but it’s a good life, because he knows that Momma will pick out a colorful patch to stitch the hole, will wrestle with dog or child to get the ear back and sewed onto him, made whole once more.

So yes, Bunny is old and tired, but, most of all, he’s happy.

#Honorable Mentions #September contest #writing contest #writing community #writeblr #ekphrastic fiction contest #ekphrastic fiction #September's Honorable Mentions

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akaluan · 4 years

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Erich/Kisuke/Alexis: Soulmate AU + Character in Peril Part 10

Alexis is dealing again when Degurechaff rounds the corner and shoots him an amused look. She waves her lieutenants down before they can do more than start to rise and says, “I’m not here to break anything up, don’t mind me.”

Erich sighs internally and rises to his feet, squeezing Alexis’ shoulder and shaking his head when she tilts her head in silent question; he’s certain that whatever Degurechaff wants him for, she doesn’t want an audience while she says it.

(There’s something tense in her aura now, like she’s made a decision but isn’t sure of the outcome.)

(That’s… concerning.)

“Is everything alright?” Erich asks quietly as he walks to Degurechaff’s side and the two of them move away from the little nook made by crates.

Degurechaff grimaces, hands clasped behind her back and shoulders rigid. She doesn’t look up at him as they move, her steps light and fast. “The two of you will need Ja—Akitsugo lessons if you intend to communicate with your second soulmate,” she says. “And seeing as I’m probably the only other person here with that skill…”

“Is there a problem with that, Colonel? If you don’t want to, I’m sure we can muddle through.” Erich bites back a frown at Degurechaff’s phrasing, hoping that she wasn’t regretting something that had already happened.

(And what was she about to call the language?)

(Curiouser and curiouser…)

“No, sir. I’m happy to help,” Degurechaff answers swiftly, but she still doesn’t look up at him while she says it. “I just…”

“Colonel Degurechaff. If you don’t want to tell me where you learned the language, I won’t question it. What you do with your free time is up to you,” Erich says, tone bordering on sharp despite his best efforts to moderate it. He’s not used to this, not used to her being troubled about something so… so meaningless.

(What did he care if she spent time at some point to learn another language?)

(It had clearly never affected her work, after all.)

Degurechaff leads the way into his tent, then spins to face him as soon as they’re both inside. Her hands are clasped behind her back and she’s tense, almost vibrating with the nerves that he can feel in her aura. “Sir, if I tell you something in confidence, will you keep it to yourself no matter how odd it sounds?”

Erich arches an eyebrow, trying to determine where she’s going with her question. “So long as it’s no threat to our men, of course I won’t.”

She pauses, gaze sweeping across his face as she considers his words, and then…

She huffs a sigh and swallows nervously, chin tipping up almost defiantly as she says, “I know the language because this isn’t the first life I can remember.”

He blinks at her words and reaches out with his senses, brushing against nerves-anxiety-honesty and feeling the first stirring of relief as the weigh of her statement begins to sink into his mind.

(She’s a reincarnate.)

(She’s not a child.)

“Sir…?”

“How old are you really?” he asks absently as he reevaluates everything he knew about her. It puts much of her knowledge in a new light, and settles the squirming ache that rose any time he looked at her and thought about everything his country and the war had stolen from her.

“Older than you,” she answers with a weak smirk.

And suddenly that odd, black humor when he told her his unknown soulmate was older than him and so it couldn’t be her made so much more sense.

(She was older than him in her memories, at least.)

(How odd to think that…)

It still doesn’t make it right, still doesn’t absolve his country for seeing a magically powerful child and throwing her at the front lines at the first sign of war, but it’s something.

(He’s learned to appreciate the little things.)

(This isn’t exactly little, but… it also doesn’t change a thing.)

(She’s still Tanya von Degurechaff, still the monster he’s feared for years, she’s just… letting him see beneath the surface she presents to everyone else.)

(Why him…?)

“A question, then,” he says as his mind circles back to that strange word she keeps using. “Several times now you’ve used the word genocide in relation to my family and the Reapers. Why?”

Her eyes widen in shock and then she curses as she looks away and tugs at her hair. “Sorry, sir,” she grits out, not meeting his gaze. “Sometimes I forget that things aren’t identical between my memories and this world.”

“Aren’t the same…?”

Degurechaff nods, mouth twisted into a grimace. “In almost every way you can imagine,” she says, hand running through her hair once before being clasped behind her back. “Genocide… I forgot that word wasn’t invented yet. It’s the intentional destruction of an entire people, so that the culture and history ends. These Reapers… what they did to your people fits the concept.”

Erich frowns, turn the word and meaning over in his mind; the Reapers hadn’t succeeded, but only by the barest margin. Their arrogance gave his ancestors time to hide certain things and people, and that alone guaranteed their survival.

(It could easily have spelled the end for them.)

(It had spelled the end for entire lineages and their related skills.)

And then his mind catches on something else she said. “Hasn’t been invented yet,” he repeats, brows furrowing at the implications. If she knew about the future, if she knew about how the war would go, if she could have done anything to prevent any of the mess they’re currently in… “Do you mean to tell me you remember the future?” he asks sharply.

“For what little good it does me,” Degurechaff says with a scoff, waving aside his words and tapping a finger against her main computation orb. “Sir, the world I remember, magic was a myth. A… a fairy tale told to children or… or written about in fantasy novels! The war I studied wasn’t fought with the help of mages and no one poured time and effort into studying the scientific principles of magic!” She pauses and looks up at him, eyes wide and edged with hysteria. “I can use concepts and tactics I read about, adapt the basic strategies of the world I remember, but even if the war had started at the same time and way that it did in my memories — which it didn’t — it’s progressed entirely differently because of people like me; mages able to win dominance in the sky and perform missions that the world I remember could have only dreamed about.”

He licks his lips and tries to imagine the world she’s describing, tries to imagine how the war would have progressed without mages like her and her battalion and… can’t. Magic has always been an integral part of history, even before scientists determined how to harness it reliably; wizards and witches and warlocks have always been there alongside the villagers they serve and the nobles they swear allegiance to. Even his people used to count magic users amongst their number; some of their best and most cherished relics were enchanted by those with both magical and spiritual powers.

(Yet another thing they lost during the… the genocide of his people.)

(There hasn’t been a Quincy Mage born in living memory, and there probably never will be again.)

“Earlier in the war, when we captured the Republic’s capital… did you know this would happen?” he asks warily, remembering that night and the horror that she promised.

(The horror that came true.)

Degurechaff huffs. “Not this, specifically, but… yes. The world I remember survived two great wars like this one, which we called World War One and World War Two, followed by numerous smaller conflicts that constantly chewed through resources and created more and more unrest throughout the world.” She gives him a strained, half-hearted smile and shrugs. “With that much war in living memory, there’s… a lot of history for me to learn from on how wars like this work.”

(Two wars like this one…?)

(Why?)

(Wasn’t this one enough?)

He reaches up and adjusts his glasses, remembering the terrifying papers he read early in the war and how those papers influenced policy. “You were trying to warn us,” he murmurs in sudden recognition of the true purpose of it all.

(But no one took it seriously enough, he now knows with the benefit of hindsight.)

(Their actions were always never quite enough…)

“The only way I could,” she agrees softly, turning away to stare at his desk and the papers stacked there. “I didn’t want to get dragged into this mess of a war, but…” she snorts and shakes her head, her shoulders drawing back and her spine straightening. “It’s better to be in control of my survival than to sit back as a civilian or as a barely-trained recruit being thrown at the front lines and told to get to work.”

“That’s why you joined so early.” It makes sense; with how early she joined, she had a chance to build her skills during the rising tension when things weren’t quite so dangerous. The fact that she ended up finishing her training in the worst place and time possible wasn’t something anyone — even her — could have predicted.

“For what little good it did me.”

Erich arches an eyebrow at her bitter words, but lets the comment slide; she’s — they’re all — trapped in the midst of a war she’d hoped to avoid, after all. Some bitterness is warranted, he feels. “General Zettour would be proud to know he’s not the only one using history to his advantage,” he says instead, choosing to focus on Degurechaff’s use of memories to her advantage.

That she can remember an entire other world full of conflict makes some of her deductions and strategic leaps less incomprehensible but no less incredible; unlike General Zettour, Degurechaff is relying entirely on her own memory and the lessons she learned in her past life, without the ability to research or reread anything she might have forgotten. And her ability to adapt on the fly and pull victory from defeat is proof of her genius; he’s known officers with a lifetime of training unable to do the same.

She shoots him a wry look and spreads her hands wide, saying, “He certainly seems to enjoy picking my brain whenever he has the time.”

“He enjoys picking anyone’s brain who can keep up with him,” Erich replies with amusement, remembering moments when he was on the other end of one of General Zettour’s ‘conversations’. Stimulating, yes, but also terrifying in a way that always left him jittery and sharp for hours afterward.

(Someday… someday maybe that could be him.)

(Maybe…)

His words startle her for some reason, but then she relaxes and huffs a laugh. “That sounds like him,” she agrees, then runs a hand through her hair and tries to neaten it up a bit. “Do you have any other questions for me, sir?”

Erich considers her, taking in the fading edge of nervousness and the relief settled firmly in her aura, and then shakes his head. “Assuming you don’t want me to address you differently in private…?” he asks leadingly, wondering if that’s another thing weighing on her mind. He can’t imagine being reborn with his memories intact; he’s heard of exactly one legend involving something like her situation, and he can’t imagine it’s at all comfortable.

“It… doesn’t matter,” Degurechaff says, once more startled by his words. “I’m still me, if that… makes any sense, sir? I’m Tanya, and the person I was isn’t Tanya, but his memories aren’t my memories even if I can remember them…” she trails off with a growl, scrubbing at her face in agitation. “I don’t know a better way to explain it, I’m sorry sir. We’re… we’re the same person but we’re not the same person, and being me doesn’t bother me because that’s all I’ve known even if it isn’t all he knew. We agree on most things and I’ve been influenced by his memories, but I’ve still… I’m different from him even if we share the same thoughts and memories.”

He frowns, trying to make sense of her rambling spill of words; her situation is more complex than he expected, with what sounds like some sort of divide between her previous life and this one. It makes sense if he looks at it from a certain angle — the self made by the previous experiences would not be the self generated by these experiences — but surely having memories of another life would preclude a second self from forming? And… “He?” he can’t help but ask, wondering how Degurechaff handles that clash of experiences.

Degurechaff shrugs and gives him a wry smile. “I miss being tall,” she says with a touch of annoyance, rising up on her toes and stretching her hand up into the air as if to indicate a height that she can’t even reach thanks to her new stature. “He was as tall as you, I think, or maybe taller, it’s hard to find a good memory to judge height from. Being a girl’s fine, usually. Except…”

“All the times people dismiss you for being either a child or a woman or both,” Erich finishes for her, knowing exactly what Alexis went through when they were younger.

“Exactly.” She hums a bit and looks up at him, saying, “I always appreciated the way you treated me, sir.”

He bites back his surprise, giving himself a moment to actually think about the way they interacted in the past and the way she might have taken some of his actions.

His fear had led him to being overly professional with her at times, treating her like any other soldier under his command because he didn’t want her focus to turn on him for some perceived slight. And after he realized that no one would listen to him about how monstrous she really was, many of his objections had been to do with her physical age because really, why were they sending a child to war?

“At some points, I was afraid you would take my objections to your promotions and posts… poorly,” he admits faintly.

Degurechaff gives him a confused look and asks, “Why would I be offended about that, sir? I am a child! Well… this body is a child, and… I think that influences some of my actions more than I’d like at times. I’d always hoped that reason would persist and I’d be assigned to the rear, but…”

“You made yourself very indispensable to some very important people, Colonel Degurechaff,” Erich tells her dryly, filing away her admission to think on it later. She’s closing in on fifteen now if he remembers her age correctly, but fifteen still isn’t adult.

(He can’t let this change how he treats her, though.)

(But a bit more consideration for her body’s physical age…)

(He can do that.)

“I know,” she grumbles, shoulder slumping a bit and her nose wrinkling in disgust. “The more I tried to get promoted somewhere safe the more trouble I got promoted into.”

He smothers his laughter with a cough and looks away when she shoots him an annoyed glower, giving a token effort to hiding his amused smile.

Still… it’s hard for him to reconcile the bloodthirsty soldier of his memories with… this. Having memories of another world where bloody war was a constant could explain her easy adaptation of the mentality of humans as resources to spend, but the energy with which she’d once thrown herself headfirst into battle was at odds with her stated desire to be posted in the rear.

(She no longer has that energy, but he doesn’t consider that strange.)

(No one has that energy anymore.)

“Perhaps consider being less indispensable at waging war then, Colonel,” he settles on, amusement coloring his voice.

She sweeps her gaze over the tent they’re standing in and then gives him a dry look. “I’ll take that under advisement, sir,” she says, tone completely flat. “Let me know when you’ve picked out an officer from our troops capable of keeping up with you.”

“Serebryakov might—”

“Visha is mine and I’ll thank you to keep your dirty infantry mitts off of her,” Degurechaff interrupts with a playful sniff and a turn of her head, the edges of a smile curling at her lips.

Laughter escapes before he can swallow it back, Degurechaff’s continued protectiveness over Serebryakov always a pleasant surprise to him. “I suppose I’ll have to continue relying on you then, Colonel.”

(His past self would be nearly incoherent with terror after this conversation…)

(How strange to be laughing instead.)

“Happy to serve with you, General,” she says with more seriousness than he expected, even after her admission of appreciating how he treated her.

(He… doesn’t know what to do with that.)

(Except to hope he continues to live up to her expectations.)

“I don’t believe I have any other questions for you,” Erich says before he can start to worry himself into a knot. He has enough trouble already without borrowing more; if Degurechaff says she likes working under him, then he’s going to accept that at face value and continue on.

She relaxes, a final knot of tension slipping from her posture at his acceptance. “Let me know if you do,” she murmurs, then takes a step back towards his desk. “With that out of the way, I have a question for you, sir. Have you decided what to do about your second soulmate?”

“We have,” he answers as he steps past her and settles in his seat. He gestures for her to sit, mentally steeling himself for the discussion to come.

(She’s not going to like their decision, he can already tell.)

(But maybe she’ll support them anyway…)

#soulmate au #in which aka absolutely loses control of the chars #and tanya goes off on a tangent about being a reincarnate and just INFODUMPS THE FUCK out of her situation #poor erich #but also he's kinda happy now #happier at least?#i really need to get better at writing tanya i don't think i've quite got her down whoops #this whole au is going to be exciting as fuck to edit i can already tell

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