#the magician has completed his study and is now a breath away from creating his Magnum Opus

[reynirderolo]

I can’t find a single review of “Tarot” by Æther Realm that talks about how the songs themselves translate to the cards. I Do Not Care about musicianship, drums make brain go brr, I want to talk about how the lyrics are like the darkest possible interpretation of the Fool’s Journey and how “The Sun, The Moon, The Star” is like the climax of the story wrapping up and how “The Magician” and “The Fool” turn the album into a cycle of self-fulfilling prophecy and how the narrator is my new blorbo as a result because I’m a sucker for boys in pursuit of their lost honor

[immaculatetfs]

The Orc King

A bit of a longer one :P sorry for inactivity!

(Also couldn't find any clothing appropriate images so just imagine that Pate has clothes on <3)

The crisp evening air gave way to a thick smokey haze as Hal entered the 'Pigs. It was the tavern he frequented most often throughout his short career as an adventurer, and he always coming back following a hard day of questing. There were always people around, he recalled, adventurers, magicians and thieves and the like, but around now was when it was busiest. The air was filled with loud drunken chatter and the dull thunks of a tankard hitting wood. When he saw through the crowded room that there was a stool still empty stool right up at the bar he thanked the gods.

“The usual?” asked the barkeep, a squat, pug-nosed woman, when he sat down

“You know it Helga” He gave her a worn smile

As she filled a mug with thick yeasty ale, his attention shifted to the man beside him. Built like a plowhorse, he wore a boiled leather vest a sweat-stained tunic, emphasizing tightly, emphasizing the hefty muscle and sizeable gut that bulged out from his arms and torso. Two wide shoulders framed him, with wide and strong arms that connected to rough hands, calloused and brown from years of hard work. He smelt of leather and sweat, and when he looked over and caught Hal staring, a cheeky smile came across his bearded face.

“You come here often?” was the only thing Hal could think of saying before he felt a red flush come across his cheeks

The stranger gave a chuckle “Nah, I'm new in this area. The names Pate”

Pate shook the Hals hand, crushing fingers under his grip

“you a regular?”

“I’m Hal, and yeah, I do come here often. This is where I come after my quests”

They were interrupted by a sharp clearing of Helga's throat. “two silvers”

Pate dropped a fat golden coin on the counter.

“Will this do for tonight for me and my bud?”

He had never seen Helga move so quickly as he did then.

“Yes Yes, of course” she said, snatching it and giving a cautionary bite, before another customer called he over

Hal must have looked as shocked as he felt because Pate chucked again when his eyes reached him.

“How do you have that kind of money? That coin is worth what I earn in an entire year!”

“Believe it or not, I’m secretly royalty,” he winked.

Hal's jaw dropped

“I'm just jesting," an affectionate hand patted Hal on the back "came across a Wizard that was traveling on his way over here, said he was transporting an ancient artifact. He hired me, called me his “extra muscle" He took a sip of ale "we were ambushed, turns out I wasn't much help. I don't even remember how I was knocked out, but I do remember waking up in the middle of the road with the mother of all headaches and a chest full of treasure, with and this on top.” He held out a small hollow green tube, rubberlike and the width and length of an ear of corn, an inscription along the side reading in an alien script

“Dunno why they left that chest, and everyone was gone, so I took the valuables as payment and decided to complete the mission I had been hired for. Do you know any places here that have anything to do with orcs? the old wizard was talking about them when we were on the road”

“Whoah, that's crazy, You've probably got more money now than i'll ever see in my life as an adventurer” He studied the table “I might've heard some stuff about them as a kid, they say that they live in these local woods. You know, it's kind of dangerous if you would go out searching here… you know..” he looked into Pate’s dark brown eyes and his cheeks were red again, but not off drink

”...without a guide” he quickly distracted himself with his ale, trying to mask his embarrassment with the thick yeasty drink.

“Say, why don't we go on an adventure together then? Might be that I can't go back home now, since the Magician's colleagues would hang me for a thief if they knew I took the gold. You seem as good a partner in crime as any”. A thick hand lightly caressed Hal’s thigh. The younger man's gaze returned to Pate’s eyes, cheeks like raspberries as he tried to ignore the stirring in his nethers.

"What do you say? Partners?”

“Yes!” Hal said, a little too quickly.

“Good.” he spat on his hand and held it out for a shake, a gesture which Hal reciprocated.

A short few hours of talking made Has feel as if he had known Pate for years, and before they knew it the 'pigs were closing for the night.

They found a soft bed of moss out in the woods that surrounded the tavern to set up camp. A cool night breeze blew pleasantly on the pair as they lay down from their first night as partners.

Pate wrapped his bulky arms around Hals's reclining body, moving in for a spooning. Hal could feel hot breath on his neck, and the warmth of Pate’s larger body radiating into him, but most of all he felt a hardness pressing upon his lower back. He felt his own member begin to twitch as rough hands rubbed across his body, absently stroking and folding the mounds and crevices of his lithe body. His own hand moved up to meet one of Pate’s as it folded his pecs.

“You like this?” he heard Pate murmur

Hal turned around to gaze into his green eyes, illuminated by the starlight

“Do you?”

They plunged their lips together, the taste sweet on each other's mouths. Hal tore Pate’s tunic over his head and tossed it, revealing a sturdy chest, pelted with the same dark wiry hairs that scratched Hal's face. His nipples were two dark diamonds in the starlight, his body smelling of sweat and leather and dirt. Hal’s lips moved down, taking his right nipple into his mouth and teased it with his tongue. Pate gave a soft moan and pressed his right hand into Hal’s fluffy brown curls.

Suddenly, A voice came into Hal's head. Deep and rumbling it told him, commanded him. His hand reached into the satchel that lay beside them, fingers securing around the thick green pipe that Pate had shown him earlier that night, only now it was softer and slightly moist.

Like he had done it a hundred times, Hal tore down Pate’s britches, revealing a long mast that stood proudly in the night. Before he could say anything, Pate was overwhelmed by a sense of otherworldly pleasure as his cock pushed into the soft green material, pulsing madly in the warm cocoon.

Hal’s member was next, sliding in to meet his partner’s cock within the strange object, their pre intermingling as they did. They embraced again for another long kiss. Where the skin of the two men met, It seemed stuck together, seeming as though Hal was sinking into Pate's embrace. From these points, a dark green shade overtook their previous skin tones. Hal's torso sank blissfully into the warmth of Pate’s huge chest, his own body losing form as their insides homogenized. Where their two cocks had once come together, a fat green monster, long and thick as a beer bottle now stood, leaking warm wetness across its engorged mushroom head. Their arms and legs merged, becoming engorged with muscle and fat with the same evergreen hue as their member. From where Hal’s ass and back had been, pushed out an imposing muscle gut, covered with long wiry red hairs that grew into a Forrest as down to his crotch. framing this impressive green orb were two meaty pecs that pushed out of his chest like fat hairy cones. A massive green hand reached down to stroke the tower of flesh between his thighs, sending tidal waves of pleasure that broke the two men’s brains. Their faces merged together, individuality melting away like butter in a pan, features rearranged to create something new and exciting. His nose became bulbous, pushing out from a wild tangle of long red hairs that grew across the new creature's face, forming a wild untamed beard. His eyes darkened to black, lower canine teeth pushing out to form two intimidating tusks. The hair remaining from the heads of Pate and Hal fell away, leaving a shiny scalp dripped with rivulets of perspiration. Memories appeared to the creature that had been Hal and Pate, slow simple messages that even an orc-like him could understand

“I Ugrull”

“Orc king”

“Must make kingdom”

He climaxed, a torrent of potent hot green cum blasting in a torrent across his mountainous torso, leaking down across his back. Deep down, Ugrull knew that all a man had to do was smell his seed to become overcome with lust, to submit to him. They would want nothing else but to take his hot thick Warhammer of a cock down their puny human throats, for their king to make them his orc slaves. “Humans submit, become sons”, he thought as his fingers glided across his slick belly, grinning wildly. He would be the greatest incarnation of the orc king this world had ever seen before.

[jimlingss]

Moirai [3]

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

➜ Words: 4.8k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

You’re ten years old when you finally get to go to the Solar Festival.   “Come right up and challenge this brute to an arm wrestle!”   “Get your candy! Fresh candy from the west right here!”   It’s the first time you’re not deathly ill and practically on your deathbed, a secret which has been kept deep in the Devereux house. God forbid, their only heir is found to be weak. It could be detrimental to the whole aristocratic balance.   But frankly, you’re surprised you’re even alive.   While Anastasia’s death occurs shortly after she turns eighteen, the impending doom never stops weighing on your mind. You just count your blessings as each year passes.   You’re ecstatic to finally be able to go to the Solar Festival too. But you can’t believe it’s with Prince Jungkook and his bratty ass.   A year ago, you were horrified to find out you were engaged to him. It came out of nowhere, an announcement in the morning that nearly had you choking on your breakfast. You don’t know how your father managed to pull such strings, but you’re not entirely surprised. It was part of the original storyline after all.   Luckily, little has changed. It’s an arrangement only in name and was the gossip of tea parties for just a week. Jungkook is still largely uninterested in you. If anything, he still seems scared of you for that stunt you pulled when you first met. But you’re going to keep it that way.    If you can’t win him over with overbearing kindness, then fear works.   “Hey, you.” The Prince taps you on your shoulder and you realize he’s talking to you. He didn’t even refer you to your name. The damn brat. Jungkook points off to a stand and then grins. “Think you can win a prize?”   It’s a booth with three different targets two meters away and slingshots. A simple game with pretty good prizes.   You muse the game developers used a lot of modern inspirations in creating this world. The Solar Festival isn’t far off from markets and carnivals from the twenty-first century.   Jungkook smiles lazily and lolls his head at you. “Here, let me show you how it’s done.”   You scoff as he saunters off. For being only ten years old, he sure is cocky for his age.   The Prince flicks a golden coin at the vendor who bows at him and he grabs the slingshot and ball. His left eye closes and the tip of his tongue sticks out as he aims. Jungkook releases after a moment and the ball hits the second ring of the target.   “Amazing job, Your Highness,” the commoner stutters out while bowing again.   Jungkook pays no mind to him, but he turns his head towards you and smirks. “See?”   Your brow twitches and you step up to the booth. You grab the slingshot out of his hand, take a ball and within two seconds, you fire.    Bullseye.   It’s your turn to shift and smirk at the Prince. Pft. A game like this is easy peasy. C’mon, you used to play at arcades and amusement parks where all their games were professionally rigged.   “C-Congratulations!” The vendor hands you a massive brown bear that nearly overcomes you in size.   Jungkook’s jaw has dropped.   “Would you like the prize, Your Highness?”   He points at you. “You cheated!”   “Excuse me?!”   “Cheater!”   Jungkook stomps away and you’re left following after him while glaring into his backside.    The two of you are accompanied by two knights trailing after you. It’s more intimate than being surrounded in a room full of adults and dressed in extravagant attire. You suppose going to the Solar Festival together with the Prince, aka. your fiancé, is supposed to give off the impression that you’re actually close to him and that this isn’t just a shallow engagement.    The actual truth emerges as you’re busy studying the sign of a food booth. You’re perplexed that they have corn dogs here, or whatever they call it in Ashea, and as you turn around, Jungkook and the guards are gone.   Are you fucking kidding me? Did he actually leave you behind?!   You start wandering, scanning the heads around, looking past hordes of strangers, darting between their legs, dodging bodies. But the crowd is thick and before you’re swept up completely, you flounder out of the mass to the perimeters of the Solar Festival. It’s emptier there, only couples searching for an intimate space and stragglers who want a breath of air.    But by sheer coincidence and coincidence only, a familiar boy comes into your sight.   What the hell is he doing here?   You step back in surprise and cover your face with your massive plush bear. It's only when you peek out that your eyes permanently set onto Taehyung. He’s dressed in a black cloak, but the brown strands of his hair are too distinct. He’s taller than when you last remembered, growing into his skin as well. His cheeks are less rounded than before, eyes becoming sharper.   He doesn’t notice you, at least not yet. He’s too busy taking in the Solar Festival, gawking at the crowds, the twinkling lights and glowing lanterns. He stands at a distance, seemingly overwhelmed.   It feels like you’ve accidentally stumbled into a scene you’re not a part of.   It’s then that you remember there was a flashback in the game. Jungkook invited him to go out, but he couldn’t until he gave into the temptation and snuck outside the castle walls himself. This marks the first time Taehyung left the palace since his mother’s passing three years ago. He’s been trapped inside as the embodiment of the royal family’s shame since.   In the game, you remember he wanted food but didn’t have a single coin to his name.   But that’s not your problem.   You’re not supposed to be here anyway. So, you turn and walk away………………..   “Do you want a corn dog?”    Yet, somehow, you find yourself shown up in front of him regardless, arm extended with the stick of deep fried batter. Taehyung’s caught off guard, eyes wide but you’ve already diverted your vision, staring off at the side with an unknowing pout.    You can’t keep running away. You don’t want to.    The last time you did, Taehyung’s mother suffered the consequences of your inaction.   “I don’t know what they call it here in Ashea, but it’s a corn dog to me.”   The pair of you end up sitting together on a bench on the outskirts of the festival. The enormous teddy bear you won sits upright to your left as Taehyung is on your right. You’d be shrouded in darkness if not for the dim luminescence of the strung lights at the distance.    You bite into the hot corn dog, listening to the crunch and Taehyung’s chewing beside you.   He doesn’t say much, so you focus on gobbling up the oily treat.    Truth be told, you feel pity for Taehyung. Guilty. In a lot of ways, the two of you are similar. Outcasted. Isolated. The game developers are real assholes for creating this kind of backstory for the main antagonists while all the protagonists do is fall in love.    Once you’re done eating, you wipe your hands onto your navy pea coat.    The maids can clean it later.   “This is actually the first time I’ve been to the Solar Festival,” you pipe up, swinging your legs on the edge of the bench.   He looks at you, chewing in his cheek. “It’s mine too.”   You figured.   Suddenly, a surge of motivation washes over you.    Alright! You got some money on you. You can blow your entire allowance today and make it the best day ever for Taehyung!   You twist yourself to him with conviction set in your eyes. He’s startled and leans back. “Is there anything you want to do here then?!”   The corner of his mouth tugs. “Not really.”   You deflate. “Oh.”   It simmers down into quietness again, the bustle filling the spaces in between. Taehyung looks straight ahead yet you still catch his timid voice. “I never thought I’d see you again.”   It sinks in after a delayed second and you turn to him slowly. “You remember me?”   It was less than five minutes. Three years ago. A brief encounter at his mother’s burial.   “Why would I forget?” Taehyung smiles softly to himself. “So I’m just happy sitting here beside you.”   In hindsight, he probably wouldn’t have followed you or eaten beside you compliantly if you were a complete stranger to him. But to hear him say that aloud, you feel even sadder. You’re probably the closest thing he has to a friend right now.   You become silent, the knowledge of his future and yours heavy upon your shoulders.   “Revenge isn’t as great as you think it is,” you mutter.   The ten-year old boy frowns. “Pardon?”   You shake your head. “Never mind.”    What’s the point? It’s not like you could say anything to make it better. You know he’s dead set on it, on avenging his mother’s murder and you can’t even blame him for being so angry. For being so fixated. So lonely.   He’s hidden in the castle’s shadows — the only person who cared for him is gone.   You recall from the wikipage on the characters that it’s around this time Taehyung starts dabbling in magic by himself. He ends up becoming one of the greatest magicians in the empire, but obviously winds up using it for bad.   You eagerly twist yourself towards the boy, nearly nose to nose with him. “Don’t learn magic!”   “What?” Taehyung’s frowning, unable to understand where your random demand came from.   You lean closer to him. “Magicians aren’t that great and magic can blow up in your face. Literally.”   A beat later, your eyes stray off of Taehyung’s eyes to three figures in the distance. Jungkook is spinning in every direction, lugging his legs, expression tired and begrudging. The two knights are also looking around and you realize they’re searching for you.   “I have to go.” You hop onto your feet and grab your brown bear. “Bye!”   “Wait!” Taehyung whips himself around, but by then, you’ve already run off. His hand slips into the cloak’s pocket and he looks down at the pink handkerchief in hand with a small sigh.    You feel bad about leaving him behind, but you hope he enjoys the festival even if it’s just a little.

The room is small, dark and dank. With only a single bed in a wooden frame and a wardrobe, he often sits facing the window, looking up at the azure sky and the cotton clouds that are drifting past.   “Your Highness.”   A maid knocks at the door and he turns, sliding off the bed to follow after her quietly without question.   The only time he’s allowed to leave his bedroom is to the study. ‘Even if he’s a bastard child, no son of the King can be uneducated’ is what they said.   “You got two wrong on your examination.” The tutor flips over the parchments. “I’m surprised you managed to memorize up to the fifth volume of the Kalisis scriptures and the fundamental theory of Mahhild, but we’ll have to review Ashea’s sacred Imperial Language.”   Taehyung nods. “I’m sorry.”   “Do better next time.”   Silence settles as the older man puts aside the parchment and goes to pull books from the nearby shelves. In the meanwhile, Taehyung’s eyes stray outside the window to the wispy clouds, keeping still in his seat. He doesn’t ask many questions. He simply learns what is given to him and apologizes when he fails. But his mind strays to a girl in a navy pea coat, someone with a soft expression, who somehow always appears in front of him when he needs it most. And he can’t help his curiosity—   “Sir.” At the sound of his voice, the tutor turns around. “Do you...happen to know anyone by the name of Anastasia?”   The older man’s brow quirks. “You mean the Crown Prince’s fiancée, Anastasia Loretta Devereux?”   Taehyung’s caught off guard. “Fiancée?”   “Why do you ask?”   “N-No reason. I just heard of the name somewhere.” He looks away and the man finishes grabbing the textbooks, dropping them down on the surface in front of him. Taehyung’s fist is crumpled in his lap, quiet.    He didn’t know you were Jungkook’s fiancée. He didn’t know you were from the Devereux house either. Even he’s heard of that name before — the Duke’s house is an influential one.   Taehyung doesn’t know anything about you. He realizes it now.   But that doesn’t mean his desire has dwindled away. He still wants to see you again.   “Is it...possible to travel to another estate, but not by carriage?”   “Not by carriage?” The tutor pushes up his spectacles, puzzled by the inquiry that has come out of nowhere. “There’s horse, boat, ship, teleportation, but of course, you’re not allowed to use magic. Is there somewhere you would like to go?”   He quickly shakes his head.    They would never let him leave.   But he’s tired of waiting for the next encounter, for the next coincidence.   That night, Taehyung cracks open the door of his room. The hallway is swallowed in darkness with only a tiny sliver of the moon’s luminescence that will wane away tomorrow. So with his breath hitched and no one in sight, he slips into the shadows. He traces his steps down the corridor, turning the corner, up the small staircase and enters the library next door to the study.    Taehyung cringes as the glass doors creak, but once the gap is large enough, he fits himself through. The bookcases tower up three floors, ceiling high and the walkways between shelves narrow.    He doesn’t know where he should go, so he twists through the endless library and glances at the spines of the books before moving on.   It’s half an hour later that he finds what he’s looking for.    Magic: A Basic Guide for Beginners.   Taehyung reaches up on the tips of his toes and smoothly pulls the spine from its slot. He holds the emerald green cover to his chest and beelines straight out of the library.   He arrives back in his room with little to no trouble and sits on the floor far away from the door. Taehyung’s back leans against the wooden bedpost and he faces the window to allow the silver light to catch onto the cover. He cracks it open a second later and flips through the crisp pages until he finds what he’s looking for.   Teleportation.   A type of transport magic that allows one to travel to different locations without having to traverse the spaces in between. It is accomplished by the user visualizing the desired location and channeling their mana. If successful, the user will disappear from their current location and materialize at their desired location.    Transportation is by far the fastest way to travel between large distances. However, the success in which a user is able to teleport is dependent on skill level, inborn magical abilities and how detailed the location can be visualized.   Taehyung reads each word carefully and flips over the page to see if there are more details.   Once he realizes that’s all to be read, he shuts his eyes.    He doesn’t know where you are. He doesn’t know what the Devereux estate looks like.   But he thinks about you. The girl who handed him that pink handkerchief, the one who appeared in front of him with a stick of food, who sat beside him underneath that tree, on that bench.   Please let me see her again. Please.   Please.   Through sheer willpower, Taehyung suddenly feels a rush in his body as if he’s falling inside a dream. His senses tingle. Then, there’s cold wind pulling against his cheeks and through his hair, the moonlight no longer shining on his eyes.   His lashes flutter as his lid pulls open.   He’s standing in an empty, grassy field. But at the horizon is an illuminated manor.   The corner of his mouth tugs and he takes a step towards it.   But—   “No. No!”   He feels himself being pulled back. A force that prevents him from moving any further. Taehyung’s arm stretches out towards the manor the size of his thumb as if he could grab onto it. But no matter how hard he tries to stay, the next moment he blinks, he’s returned to the small, dark, dank room.   Taehyung’s chest rises and falls.   He was so close.   There’s a quiet knock at the door and he jolts out of his trance. Instantly, he pushes the book underneath the bed.   The door cracks open. Luckily, it isn’t a maid, servant or someone who’s come to punish him. It’s a dark haired boy with doe eyes, his younger brother who’s two inches shorter than he is.    “Taehyung?”   Taehyung stands up. “What are you doing here?”   Jungkook pouts, dressed in oversized, silk pajamas. “I thought we could play.”   “You know the Queen won’t be happy if she sees me with you.”   “I know.” Jungkook’s voice is pitched, brown eyes looking into his. Yet, he’s still hesitant at the doorway. “But no one will know!”   His younger brother is clueless. He has no idea what consequences or punishment means. He’s the Crown Prince. Pampered. Beloved. Everything he wants, he gets. He came here to play without knowing that if anyone saw, Taehyung would be the one punished. Starved. Locked into his room. There’s a reason he’s kept in the cold Western towers and Jungkook is free to roam the South, East and Northern wings. The entire castle is at his feet.   It’s unfair.   It’s so unfair that Taehyung wants to scream. But no one will hear.   They’re the same. Two boys with the same father. A few months apart. Yet one is loved and the other loathed.   Taehyung’s afraid one day he will come to hate Jungkook.   “We still shouldn’t. Go back to bed, Jungkook.”   “I can’t even stay for a minute?” He huffs out, shoulders slumping, dejected. Taehyung pulls the covers and climbs into his bed. After another moment, Jungkook gives up. “Fine. Goodnight.”   The door shuts and Taehyung rolls on his side to look out the window.   He was so close. A few more minutes and it would’ve been enough.   //   Taehyung guesses he has a natural gift for magic. The book says transportation is one of the more difficult spells that needs a lot of practice, but he made it on his first try without even knowing where the estate is.   The place only becomes more vivid in his mind the more times he goes. It becomes easier for him to visualize, easier for him to visit. And he tries with every chance he gets, every moment of his day, every minute spent alone.   Taehyung steals these secret seconds that have become what he looks forward to most. It’s the reason why he wakes up. Each time, he gathers his magic and teleports himself, it’s an opportunity to see you.   This time, it’s in the afternoon after lunch is brought to his room. Taehyung shuts his eyes and tries to imagine the manor with its brown walls, rounded windows, green field, a majestic arcway door.   When he opens his eyes and looks down at his hands materializing, he discovers that he’s at the side of the house, standing next to the wall.   “My lady!”   Taehyung jolts and peeks out from the corner. There’s a maid looking around and shouting with her hands cupped around her mouth. “My lady! Your dance lessons are starting! My lady?!”    His eyes stray upwards and the corner of his mouth tugs when he finds you in a tall tree. You’re wearing a brown dress with a flower bonnet, hidden up in the branches with a mischievous smile as you look down at the dismayed maid who’s completely oblivious.    He stifles back a laugh.   But it withers away when his body starts to fade.   No. No!   When Taehyung blinks again, he’s returned to his room. Back to where he belongs.   He slumps down on his bed in disappointment. He wanted it to last longer. But maybe next time. Next time, he’ll try harder and maybe then…..maybe then, he’ll actually get to talk to you.   //   The next evening, when no one’s around, Taehyung tries once more.   He shuts his eyes and thinks of you, thinks about the land, the house.   And it comes faster to him this time.    He doesn’t have to wait as long before he feels the breeze against his cheeks, the air fresh to his nose. He’s placed at the same spot as yesterday, by the wall near the back. Except neither you nor a maid are outside. In your place is the sun setting over the horizon, the rays casting into his eyes through the tree branches. The sky is painted in shades of a blazing bonfire, amber, ruby, citrine.   But Taehyung’s not here to admire the outside world. He looks down at his hands to make sure he’s materialized and he starts pacing around the perimeter of the manor. He ducks beneath windows when workers or kitchen staff walk by and sneaks along the walls to make sure he’s not caught.   It seems like he won’t be able to find you today.   But then he hears a— “ha!” followed by a metal whistle as something cuts through the air.   Taehyung peeks through the window to see you swinging your sword in the middle of your bedroom. You’re twirling it around, but after a moment, the weapon clanks to the ground and you drop down next to it on your butt.    “God, I’m so tired!”   Taehyung smiles to himself. His fist lifts to knock on the glass.   At the same time, the corner of your eye catches movement. So you turn your head.   But there’s nothing there.   Your brows furrow and you blink hard. But there really is nothing outside your windows. You swore you saw someone.    Maybe you’re just going crazy.    You should probably call quits for tonight and stop practicing.    You don’t know that miles away, Taehyung has appeared back in his room, looking down at his hands stitching into its form, materializing in the small, dark, and dank space. More importantly, he doesn’t see the horrified maid standing at the open doorway until it’s too late.   He’s been caught.   “Where did you go?”    Taehyung’s thrown onto the marble flooring, cheek bruised at the Queen’s feet. She looks down at him, dressed in a luxurious black gown with golden flowers, hair pulled in an updo with silver ornaments. The maid who tattled smirks as she stands on the sidelines. A guard passes the Queen the emerald spell book and she glances at it before tossing it on the ground where he’s been flung.   “And don’t you dare try to deny it.”   Taehyung sharply inhales at his stinging cheek and looks to the open book.   He exhales a silent breath of relief.    They don’t have the handkerchief.   If they did, she would’ve ripped it in front of him and thrown down the shreds. He’s glad he hid it well between his pillowcase.   “I...I just wanted to go outside. I’m sorry.”   “You’re lying.”   Taehyung looks up. “I swear—!”   Before he can inhale, Taehyung’s head is suddenly whipped to his side. The sound of the slap echoes through the lavish chamber and his hand lifts to cup at his numb cheek now printed with the Queen’s diamond rings.    “You lie!” she spits at him, eyes narrowed in.    “You think I was born yesterday?! There’s no reason for you to use magic to go outside. I know what you’re doing. You’re conspiring against me! Against the King. You’re trying to get rid of your brother and take the throne for yourself! Who taught you?! Who were you visiting?! Tell me.”   Taehyung grits his teeth. He turns his head to look back at the woman.   His hands crumple into fists.   “No one.”   Tears flood his vision. All he wanted was to see you.   But he’s weak. He can’t do anything. Much less fulfill his only wish.   “You dare lie to me again?” She scoffs. “Whoever it is, I will find them and I will punish them.”   He can’t protect himself. He couldn’t protect his own mom.   But he can still protect you.   “I said, no one taught me and I was seeing no one.”   She scoffs loudly and points to the maid by the door. “You there! Report to the King what you found out. When you’re done, let everyone know that this bastard is to be confined to his room for the next three months on full watch. Make sure he won’t be able to leave no matter what.”   “Yes, Your Majesty.”   The Queen stands, height looming over the ten-year old boy. She looks him dead in the eye, lips curling into a snarl. “Don’t think this is the end of it. I won’t let you run around and do as you wish like your whorish mother did. You can deny it for all you want. You won’t eat until you speak.”   “Take him away!” she shouts at the guards and they grab the back of his collar, dragging him upwards and out. Taehyung doesn’t scream, he doesn’t cry. His eyes dim as he looks at the woman until the gap of the door shuts in his face.    He won’t see you anymore. Not until he becomes strong enough.   Inside the room, the Queen collapses back onto her sofa. She sighs heavily and rubs her throbbing temples between her fingertips. Her personal attendant comes to her side and bows. “Is there anything I can do for you, Your Majesty?”   “It’s suffocating being here,” she mutters and drops her hand. “Hmm, maybe I’ll take the trip down to the Summer Palace in Florendale early this year.”   The maid dips her head. “I will make the preparations then.”

Edith swiftly enters the room one morning, drawing the curtains roughly and shedding the blinding sunlight into your still-sleepy eyes. You wince and pull the covers over your head, but she rips them off of you unceremoniously.   What the hell. Seriously?!   “It’s time to get ready.”   “Why?” you groan, peeling one eye open and pressing your cheek to your pillow.   Edith doesn’t stop moving. She opens the doors to your wardrobe and starts picking through the racks of dresses. “The Queen is on her deathbed with the incurable plague. The Duke and Duchess will be leaving for the castle immediately within ten minutes. You must go with them to fulfill your duties as the heir of the Devereux house.”   It takes a delayed moment for the information to sink into your foggy mind.   But then, you’re bolting upright with wide eyes. “Wait. What?!”    You’re horrified.    This isn’t part of the original game. The Queen is supposed to be alive and well even past your supposed execution date!   But there’s no time to dwell when your face is washed and you’re dressed in a black gown, barely enough time to brush your hair. You’re rushed into the carriage and the coachman rides at a hasty speed. Your mother, in the meanwhile, lectures you to stay quiet and solemn.   Your entire family soon arrives at the familiar castle and you’re guided to the main hall.   Jungkook is sobbing in the corner, being comforted by a swarm of attendants. You’re at a loss, looking around, trying to grasp what’s going on. There’s no sight of Taehyung whatsoever.   Your father, carrying the high status of the Duke, manages to visit the King and the Queen in their personal chambers. You’re brought along behind your mother, staying silent as she had instructed you to do. Your parents offer their condolences, but when you peek out behind her and past the royal healers, blood drains from your face.   The Queen is pale. Barely breathing in her bed. Cysts and welts bubble on her wrinkled skin.   Even you know she’s not going to recover. But how? How did this happen?!   The respects your parents give doesn’t last long. You’re soon being brought into the main hall again in favour of delegates from the smaller Eastern empire giving their condolences. But on your way, you catch the murmurs of the maids.   “—plague in Florendale.”   “How awful! If only Her Majesty went in the Autumn season as she usually does. I don’t know why she chose to go earlier this year.”   “It was truly the wrong place at the wrong time.” — “A tragedy!” — “Why is Her Majesty’s fate so unfortunate?”   You can barely stitch together the pieces of what happened and all the gaps in between are full of more questions. Why these changes are happening. Why the original game is changing so much.   What this means.   A feeling of uncertainty swells inside of you.

[viaryius]

I couldn't resist  🤍Little Caranthir story 🤍

He is so sweet 🤍

Little Caranthir is bored. Eternal reading of books and learning does not make sense to the little elf. He is very tired, he needs a break. He needs to have fun. What happens when he gets the chance?

Story Link: HERE 🌿

In a room full of books, there was an echo of quiet snoring. An elf who has dressed in a green tunic, sat on his chair and slept. His blond hair slid into his face during sleep and gently rubbed against his cheekbones.  He held a book in his hands, which he read until he fell asleep from exhaustion. His relaxed body dropped the book on the ground.

The book slid slowly on the ground from tired hands that could no longer hold it. The fall of the book on the ground made a small rumble. But not big enough to wake the sleeping elf. His eyelids were closed, and at times there was a hint of restlessness or disapproving growl, caused his dreams. The peace of a fallen book, was disturbed by a small child's hand.

The child looked curiously at the book. His ice-blue eyes focused on the title, which was engraved in silver. Herbal Arkanara. The boy rolled his eyes boredly. He knew this book very well. He read it so many times, that he could recite the whole book from beginning to end. The long days of boredom, he tried relieved by reading the various books, which he found. But most of the books have been repeated.

With his bored childish expression, he looked at the elf, who was sitting and sleeping quietly. There was only a quiet blow in the room. The little elf watched him lazily. His eyes returned to the book. He walked over to the table and quietly placed it in front of his teacher.

Little Caranthir was not afraid of him, but he had respect for him. Especially when his teacher was involuntarily awakened from sleep. The memory of waking his teacher was not the best for little Caranthir. Only at the slightest hint of that memory his shoulder hurt again. He did not want to run away again from the flying books. which his teacher throws at him. A mischievous smile appeared on Caranthir face and he chuckled. At least then, the old elf was funny. Red as pepper.

The little elf sighed resignedly and walked slowly but very quietly to the other end of the room. He sat down at a table with many different books. But he didn't read today, he wasn't in the mood for it. He knew them by heart, like all other books. His eyes ran around the room, looking for some kind of fun or distraction.

Caranthir sighed boredly again and put his hand on his chin. The platinum strand of hair, that wandered into his face quickly hid behind his ear. His ice blue eyes stopped at his teacher. He narrowed his eyes and studied him carefully. Hair, clothes and his face. Nothing. No change. Avallac'h was so boring in some cases. He sighed in frustration and hid his head with his hands in despair.

His eyes brightened wildly. He knew what to do. He had waited too long for this, and now when his teacher did not perceive reality, he could do it. Mischief gleamed in his eyes.

The old elf is sleeping. Caranthir grin his teeth mischievously. Now I have a chance to finally had some fun. He had a cheerful smile on his face. His steps quieter than a cat, he sneak very slowly to a table with various elixirs and bottles.

Caranthir attention was focused on one particular elixir. A small oblong bottle, containing a red-white powder was right in front of him. He grabbed it quickly and hid the bottle in the inside pocket of his pale blue tunic. He twisted quietly and jumped. Behind Caranthir was a smaller wave of ice-colored energy, which disappeared after a while.

The little elf landed on soft grass. It was quite far from his teacher's home or town. He stood up carefully and checked to see if the bottle had been damaged when he fell. Sometimes he teleported without thinking. A satisfied smile appeared on his face. The bottle was whole and undamaged. He pulled a small piece of text from his other pocket, which Caranthir had written off while Avallac'h was asleep.

Now is the right time. No unnecessary instruction, prohibitions and orders. I can do it without his help. After all, I'm more special than other magicians. Pride appeared on the boy's face.

He focused his attention on his surroundings. He tried to find the perfect place to perform his spell. It can't be any ordinary place. Magic and power must breathe from that place. It has to call you.  He echoed the Avallach commands in his head. Aha! I have it! Caranthir looked at the huge tree. Its crown formed an ideal hiding place, and at the same time a huge force of energy passed through it.

Caranthir worked ingeniously and skillfully, knowing very well what he do. With the stones around him, he created a smaller stone circle into which he inserted the leaves of the Aarkh tree. The leaves were often used for similar magical purposes by various elven magicians.

He smiled proudly after completing the stone circle. He did it himself without the help of some grumpy older elf. He giggled and his eyes sparkled with joy and pride. He was satisfied with himself.

Caranthir took the last step. Invocation of the natural spirit itself. This will be the more difficult step. He frowned uncertainly. But if I can do it, I can prove that Avallac'h made a mistake about me. He starts to take me more seriously.

In the center of the stone circle, engraved a symbol that was on paper. The last step was to apply red and white dust to summon a fiery spirit guard.

With a careful but consistent eye, he poured dust into the center of the symbol. He had to do it slowly and precisely to avoid an unsolicited side situation. Working with fire dust is dangerous, especially for young apprentices.

Done. His ice-blue eyes glowed with joy and pride. Everything was exactly as he studied. Caranthir is a perfectionist on the details, he took great care of. He waited for the sun to cover the huge cloud, which would absorb even the last rays of the sun.

When the sun was covered by a large cloud, Caranthir did not wait and took his chance. He stretched his small thumbs toward the circle and closed his ice-blue eyes tightly. He listened to the sound of the wind, which stroked his platinum hair.

An ice-blue light came out of his hands, and he began to whisper words that were very old and even ancient. Light shot from his hands toward the center of the circle. Caranthir eyes were still closed. He knew he had to resist his childhood curiosity. If he stopped concentrating, it could turn him in a negative direction.

In the center of the stone circle appeared wonderful orange-red sparks, which cluster in one larger one. The noise cluster began to take shape. There was a strange crack. Instead of a cluster and unbridled noise, a small fiery owl with the color of fire sat in the center of the symbol. She looked around curiously.  Caranthir couldn't stand it. Curiosity overcame him. The boy's ice blue eyes opened. He stared at the tiny owl elemental of fire. Her tail… burning ?? He was honestly surprised.

Their eyes met. The owl looked into the boy's eyes. She spread her wings and flew to the level of the boy's face. For Caranthir, she was beautiful. The owl maneuvered her wings sharply. Caranthir was startled by her sudden movement. He lost his balance and fell to the ground. The little fiery elemental used his freedom and flew away.

No! I have to find her! The fire owl can cause big problems. Not only me but also others! In despair, his head flashed and he ran in the direction she was flying. He stopped a little closer to the forest. Caranthir looked around nervously, with little hope of finding her. Avallac’h would not be pleased with my exercise. A sharp nervousness ran through his small body.

His eyes shone with hope, when he saw a small point of fire towards the forest. Found her! Without further ado, he ran after her. She was flying over a branch of a withered tree. Smoke began to rise from some parts of the tree. The boy scratched his head nervously.

I have to call her to me! Otherwise, the dry tree may collapse very quickly. The worst option would be to switch to the surrounding trees. I can't risk that! Avallac'h would throw at me not just one book, but the entire library in his study!

Caranthir held out his hands in front of him again, directing his power toward the owl. She understood the command immediately and came to him again. This time she fluttered her wings more slowly, looking straight into Caranthir icy-blue eyes.

There was silence around them. Only the quiet flapping of the wings of the owl's spirit, echoed. Caranthir raised an astonished eyebrow. The color of the owl elemental began to change. The red-orange color has disappeared. It was replaced by blue, which was replaced by black. Caranthir frowned his forehead. She didn't like her color. He realized what that meant. The spell broke. The fiery spirit will explode! Before he could get to safety, the elemental was engulfed in black dust and exploded.

Caranthir saw nothing. He didn't notice the world around him. He was in the dark. The shock wave of the blast threw him into the meadow. He woke up to a long and uncomfortable whistle in his head. Caranthir sat disoriented on the grass and tried to analyze the location.

Explosion. The fiery spirit exploded. His voice echoed in his head very tired. He sighed in disappointment and looked embarrassed at the ground. He was disappointed on yourself, he felt he could do nothing right. I failed. With his right hand, he wanted to fix  hair, that had tickled on the right side of his head.

His hand touched his head ... the boy froze. Shock and horror filled his ice-blue eyes. HAIR! Horrified, placed his palm on the right half of his head. He could only feel tiny hair under his fingers. With the bag he had on his belt, he quickly pulled out a mirror.

Caranthir froze. He was missing a piece of hair on the right side of his head. He had only tiny hairs that the explosion did not absorb. The boy just exhaled in frustration. He knew that Avallac‘h would demand the truth of what had happened to him. Caranthir icy-eyes darkened and sparks of fierce anger erupted. He threw the mirror in his hands with all his strength on the ground. The mirror breaking  into several pieces.

His eyes filled with coldness. It was the eyes of a winter storm that destroyed and killed everything in its path. He was angry on yourself. On his inability to rise above his curiosity. He clenched his fist. The power in his veins began to circulate rapidly. She connected with his anger and disappointment. Cold and ice began to form around him. He was beginning to lose control.

Caranthir's rage of anger was interrupted by a wild neigh. He looked toward the sound. Not far from him stood several unicorns, who aggressively stomped and scratched. One of them dangerously turned his horn towards the boy. Caranthir felt a noise in his head. He remembered what Avallac'h had told him to do if he found himself in such a situation. He began to mumble a song taught to him by his teacher.

With cautious and slow steps, he began to back away from them as far as he could so, that he could teleport to safety. The boy's body was tense and he felt fear intensify inside him. The black unicorn overcame the boy's intentions and walked slowly behind the boy. Other unicorns joined him.

A cold shiver ran through Caranthir body. The unicorns hurry up. Unpleasant feelings of fear and anxiety ran through his body. He remembered stories of the enormous pain in which elves died of wounds from unicorn horns.

A black unicorn threatened the boy aggressively with his horn. Caranthir anticipated and jumped. Fortunately, he didn't touch him. He regretted leaving Avallach office without his knowledge. He'd rather be bored to death.

Behind the boy came a battle cry of riders. The unicorns stopped, stamped anxiously, and stood on their hind legs. Not a second passed, riders on horses with bright red cloack, attacked on the unicorns. At the speed of the riders, the little elf lost his balance and fell to the grass. The unicorns ran away from the red riders.

The riders proudly called out their triumphant shout. One of the riders turned his dark brown stallion and walked over to the boy. The boy looked at him with curiosity, astonishment and respect for him. The rider carried himself proudly on his stallion. Elegance, pride and something unpredictable and dangerous radiated from him. The rider's green eyes looked closely at the little boy, who was looking at him in great astonishment. Caranthir was not afraid of the rider's predatory eyes.

The rider grinned confidently. He's not afraid of me. I like it. It passed through the head of the green-eyed rider. He removed his helmet from his head, revealing his raven-black hair. For a moment, the boy forgot to breathe in amazement. The elf's green eyes watched the boy's expression in amusement.

"Boy ..." The black-haired elf began in a calm voice, "Tell me what you're doing here alone. Where are your parents? Do they know you're almost at the magic line? ”The elf raised an eyebrow suspiciously and watched the boy's expression intently.

"I don't know my parents, but I have a mentor who teaches me and takes care of me ..." The boy began to talk to him while his ice blue eyes look to the the rider green eyes.

"And he doesn't know I'm here ..." He added quieter. The black-haired elf just tilted his head to the side curiously.

"Doesn't he know? Who is your mentor? ”He asked with interest in his voice. Caranthir just sighed softly and scratched his head in embarrassment.

"Avallac'h .... sir," he muttered. Surprise appeared on the black-haired elf's face. So you are to be our salvation? He looked at the boy with great interest.

"Golden child. That's what Crevan calls you, if I'm not mistaken. ”The black-haired elf kept watching him with interest in his eyes. The boy just nodded silently and added.

"My name is Caranthir Ar-feiniel, thank you for saving my life. I owe you one. ”He introduced himself very politely and bowed. The black-haired elf grinned foxly. Crevan raised you well.

"My name is Eredin Bréacc Glas. I am the leader of Dearg Ruadhi. ” Eredin noticed a spark of knowledge and great admiration in the eyes of young Caranthir.

"I heard about you! You're really amazing! ”Little Caranthir shouted enthusiastically. Eredin laughed at his childish haste and admiration.

Eredin held out his hand to the boy and said with a smile on his lips.

"I'll take you home. I'm sure your mentor will run away from his senses. ” Eredin's green eyes sparkled with malice. Caranthira was surprised, but he didn't ask. The boy did not hesitate. He took the elf's hand and the black-haired elf placed it on his horse. Little Caranthir felt his pride grow. Eredin just narrowed his eyes and looked at the boy closely.

"Hmm ... I swear the last time I saw you, even if only from a distance, your hair was on both sides of your head. Didn't you start experimenting with hairstyles to make Avallac'h angry? ” Eredin asked with a curious grin. Caranthir froze for a moment. My hair ... I completely forgot about it in the confusion. The boy shook his horse in embarrassment.

"I was experimenting ..." Caranthir replied uncertainly. He was ashamed to admit the real reason why he was missing a piece of hair.

"So, the rebel?" Eredin tease him with a cheerful smile.

"Very well. Crevan needs to have blood flow in his veins so he doesn't mummify completely. ” A mischievous smile appeared on Caranthir face.

Eredin just pulled on his stallion's reins and ran across the meadow at the wind. Little Caranthir didn't even think about it and noticed his teacher residence. He swallowed nervously. He will have something to explain.

Avallac'h was about to go looking for Caranthir when he noticed a rider approaching. It was Eredin. Avallac'h went against him, when his eyes widened in surprise and relief. Eredin was not alone. Caranthir also sat on his horse. His stiff face relaxed. He was fine and healthy. He narrowed his eyes carefully. What happened to his hair?

"Crevan," Eredin said calmly.

"Eredin," Avallac‘h replied. There was a strangely tense atmosphere between the two elves. Caranthir was measured first by Eredin and then by Avallac’h. He frowned thoughtfully. Strange. He thought to himself.

"I feel like you've lost someone." Eredin took the boy and laid him on the ground. Caranthir took cautious steps toward his mentor. He didn't even have to guess. He could see very well in the mentor's eyes that he was not thrilled with his trip.

“Lost ..." Avallac'h began in a calm voice, staring his aquamarine eyes into the green eyes of a predator.

"I could argue about that. Since Caranthir has his own head and is responsible for what he does." Avallac’h said and glancing sternly at Caranthir. Caranthir just guilty lowered his eyes and crossed from foot to foot.

"Pay more attention on the golden child. His life was in danger of a unicorn. ”Eredin spoke. He looked into the boy's icy blue eyes and added mysteriously.

"He will play an important role in the future, won't Crevan?" His green eyes looked into the eyes of aquamarine again. Avallac'h just sighed frustration.

"It doesn't matter to me, but to him ..." Avallac’h added lowly. Caranthir looked at him in curiously. What are they talking about?

"Caranthir has learned his lesson today. I think he had several opportunities to learn.” Avallac’h looked at Caranthira. Eredin grinned foxly and nodded.

" Well then. It was an honor to meet you, Caranthir. And by the way, a good haircut.” Caranthir straightened in surprise and looked at Eredin in amazement. His head flashed. He knew what he wanted to be. He wants to become a red rider. Protect his people and be like him the leader of Dearg Ruadhi. Strong, fearless and admired.

Caranthir's thought process was interrupted by his mentor's voice.

"I think you have something to explain to me ..." Avallac'h stood in front of the boy. Caranthir had no choice. He sighed and looked into his teacher's eyes. Did he notice worry and fear in Avallac'h eyes? Caranthir wondered.

"I'm sorry ..." Caranthir began.

"You slept and I was bored ... I didn't want to disturb you ... so I decided to go for a walk." Avallac'h tilted his head gently to his side and raised an eyebrow. He knew that was not entirely true.

"Did you need fire dust for the walk?" Why did you take fire dust?" He continued. His tone was stern but soft at the same time. He didn't need to raise his voice. He was Aen Saevherne after all. Just his presence and conversation with him was a test for some.

"I wanted  ..." Caranthir paused. He exhaled and stared into mentor's eyes.

"You wanted?" Avallac'h repeated after him.

"I wanted to summon a fiery elemental ..." Avallac‘h looked at Caranthir and touched the spot where the boy's hair had burned. He stared at him for a moment with a worried look. Then he looked him straight into his icy-blue eyes.

"I guess from your appearance, it didn't turn out the best ..." He saw shame and disappointment in Caranthir eyes. With one small nod of his head, he confirmed the teacher's words.

"I just wanted you to be proud of me ... that I could do it without help ... that I deserve to be a mage ..." The boy's voice broke. He felt tears of shame and disappointment running down his cheeks. He bowed his head so his teacher wouldn't see it.

Two fingers lifted Caranthir head. He looked into his teacher's eyes again.

"It's fine. Sometimes even great magicians fail. ”Avallac'h eyes were calm and radiant warmth of encouragement. He wiped the boy's wet cheeks with his thumb.

"You are still very young. Don't worry about failing. You're still learning. ”A smile appeared on Caranthir face.

"Caranthir, I'm here to guide you and help you on your journey to becoming a magician. It is not a shame to ask for help. You're lucky Eredin found you in time. I'm not angry with you, but you can never do something like that again without my knowledge. Do you promise me that? ” The boy just nodded eagerly. He saw the boy's face relax. The grief disappeared from his face.

"I promise and forgive me ..." A soft smile appeared on Avallac'h face.

" One more thing. I don't say that often but I'm proud of you ...” Caranthir looked at him in astonishment and gratitude. His eyes glowed with pride. Although Avallac’h never confessed aloud, Caranthir was more of a son than an apprentice.

The boy made a gesture that surprised Avallac'h himself. He hugged him tightly. Avallac’h was frozen for a few seconds. But he returned his kindness with his hug. Avallac’h was happy he was okay. He needs to pay more attention to him

"Eredin was wrong in his statement that you were turning into a mummified ..." Caranthir said out of nowhere. Avallac’h stopped. And he looked at the boy in shock. "Mummified?" He repeated, looking at where the rider had disappeared.

You snake..

[the-melting-world]

The Empress | Side B: “I Will Be Blessed”

I want to give a special dedication to my amazing friend and partner in crime Ligia Nunes @ligiawrites​ ​. This installment of The Empress is a major turning point in Kip’s journey. The opening scene was strongly inspired by the Strength throne art created by Ligia a while back (located at the end of the fic). I don’t think this moment would have ever existed if had it not been for that throne. So thank you, Ligia for continuing to inspire so much of my storytelling.

***

~ In which a humble gardener stops resisting…

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Muriel 

Track Origins: “I Will Be Blessed” by Ben Howard

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: The Empress

cw: none

~ 2.2k words

 Kipling opens a Door that takes her and Asra to Strength’s Gate.

Kipling and Asra crowded around a golden throne in the middle of a flowering vale. The magicians’ fingers were already grazing the surface of the elaborate throne, trying to capture the shape of every groove, the curl of each engraved leaf glinting under the midday sun. 

“Was this here the last time you came through this realm?” Asra asked as he crouched down in order to study the finer stalks of wheat fanning out from the base. 

“No,” Kip replied airily, her focus still mostly absorbed by the face of a lion staring out at her from the backrest. Its features were half concealed by depictions of broad leaves and delicate flora.

If it hadn’t been for the boisterous game of catch and chase between the three familiars in the background, Kipling and Asra might have never been able to snap out of whatever spell the throne had over them.

Taro, Faust and Abaco kicked up an assortment of purple and orange wildflowers during their romp. The ring of flowers remained suspended in the air for much longer than normal before they languidly drifted back down to the earth.

Kipling wondered how much longer she and Asra would have to wait for Khleo or Strength to arrive. Only thing was certain – she didn’t want to walk away from this throne. And, she noticed, neither did Asra.

“There is a body that belongs in that seat, but it is not my own.”

Kipling and Asra straightened up and spun abruptly to come face to face with the guardian of the realm. The Major Arcana was just as beautiful and terrifying as Kipling remembered. This time Strength had settled on her sphinx form, her face an impossible fusion of female and feline.

The Arcana was well past the seven foot mark, glowing, and draped in fabrics whose color constantly shifted between red wine and raw berries. Whatever words Kip had for the celestial being died on her lips. Asra, who had more experience conversing with the Arcana, took Kipling’s hand and addressed Strength directly.

“Thank you for permitting us into your realm. I’m Asra Alnazar and this is my partner, Kipling Bronne.”

Without moving her mouth, Strength said, “I know who you are, Small Magician. And I know why both of you are here.”

When she didn’t elaborate, Kipling found her voice and asked, “What did you mean earlier when you mentioned the throne?”

Strength fixed the gardener with her predatory gaze. “I meant what I said, Small Empress. It does not belong to me.”

Kipling’s heart began to race. She squeezed Asra’s hand. “Then who does it belong to?”

“Who else?” Strength cocked her head to the side. “The cub you call Khleo.”

Kip stepped forward. “Tell me where she is.”

“Kipling.” 

Asra’s hand came down on her shoulder.

“She’s not here,” Strength said flatly. Then she walked past both of them and made herself comfortable on the throne. “I’m keeping this seat warm for her in the meantime. You must understand, Small Empress. I can only protect my cubs from the nest. When they leave, things are out of my control.”

“Is Khleo in danger?” Kip asked, wishing she didn’t sound so desperate.

Strength did not mock her for it. In fact, her expression appeared sympathetic. As sympathetic as a werelion could hope to look.

“Danger is a strong word.” Strength gave a wistful sigh. “The cub is being kept in a cage. Perhaps not one with metal bars and padded locks, but a cage all the same. Under such circumstances, she is more of a danger to herself than anything else.”

Kipling closed her eyes and took back her hand from Asra. He watched in concern as she hugged herself and swayed on her feet.

Not Khleo. Not her Khleo. 

“It’s my fault,” Kipling croaked. “I always tried to blame it on Ozy, but that’s because it was easier. That way I didn’t need to face what I had done.”

Asra reached for her again. “No, you can’t do this to yourself, Kip.”

“But she is correct, Small Magician.” Strength interjected. “The Small Empress helped put my lion cub where they currently are.”

Kipling’s knees gave out as she choked on a sob. Asra caught her before she could completely stumble.

“Stop it!” 

He hadn’t meant to shout at a Major Arcana, but he couldn’t keep watching Kip beat herself up.

“Strength,” Kipling made eye contact with the Major Arcana as she leaned on Asra for support, “tell me how I can help Khleo. What can I do to set her free?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions.” Some manner of a grin stretched across the werelion’s maw. “Ultimately it is up to Khleo to set herself free, but these things, as you know, cannot be done alone.”

She stood up, her face sobering right before she rested her paws on Kip’s shoulders.

“The beast in Khleo has fought. She has done nothing but fight since she walked through that Door that you opened all those years ago.”

Kip couldn’t stop the tears from snaking down her face. But she wouldn’t dare look away from Strength now.

“Khleo has fought and fought and fought. As exhausted as she is, she doesn’t know how to stop. And she will go on fighting until she can’t anymore. The body I gave her is both a blessing and a curse.” Strength sighed and let her paws drop from Kip’s shoulders. “I’ve done all I can, but the cub is stubborn and will not hear me.”

She drifted away from Asra and Kipling. The wildflowers in her path bowed to her and blazed gold.

“Something tells me that Khleo will listen to you. I took away their magic so that they may live, but that does not mean they have lost their command over the Doors. It may not look the same for them as it does for you, but…. They just need someone to show them the way.”

By this time, Taro and Abaco were back on Kipling’s shoulders and Faust had reunited with Asra. 

“Finish your training, Small Empress. Then seek out your Patron.”

Strength waved her arm. A Door appeared.

“Now go.”

Kipling and Asra walked away from the throne towards the portal. On the way, Kip stopped and rested the tips of her fingers on Strength’s wrist. The Arcana looked down on the gardener. Kipling didn’t say anything. She just stroked the light coating of fur and gazed up into the eyes of the sphinx.

Strength let go of another heavy breath, lacing it with a purr.

“Your friend. All she wants is to be free. To rest.”

Kip wished she was tall enough to catch the sun-lit tears before they streaked down Strength’s whiskers. 

“She deserves it.”

***

Back at the Palace, Kipling found Ozy meditating in the gardens. She had come alone this time. The familiars had gone inside with Asra when they returned from Strength’s realm.

Instead of disturbing Ozy, Kipling walked over, sat down and joined him. She fell into the trance quicker than usual. As if Ozy’s disciplined presence had served as a catalyst.

Kipling wasn’t sure how long she and Ozy sat there under the weeping willows with their legs crossed, their palms face up, relaxed and resting on the peaks of their knees. Their breaths were independent of each other. Each one entered deep and left with ease. Each thought floated in uninvited and drifted off unnoticed. 

Despite the coverage of the silky willows, Kipling felt the sun on her, giving the shapes that danced behind her eyelids a peculiar glow.

By the time Ozy’s voice called Kipling back, there were more warm tears hugging her freckled cheeks.

“You went to go see Khleo on your own. Without me.”

Ozy didn’t sound angry, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t.

“I had to,” Kip said, her voice surprisingly steady despite the emotions that the trip had brought to the surface. The more the trance of the meditation wore off, the harder she cried. She wished she could take a breath in order to tell Ozy that they were tears of relief rather than pain. She would see Khleo again. She was meant to help them. Strength herself said she needed Kipling’s help. 

Kipling felt like a weight had been lifted from her heart. When she dried what she could of her tears and looked up at Ozy, she found that she could focus on him completely. Her heart was still being pulled in other directions, but not as strongly as before.

Kipling allowed Ozy to help her onto her feet. 

“What did Strength say?” Ozy asked, his tone implying that he knew Khleo wasn’t there. His words briefly brought back images of daisies materializing spontaneously in the shape of a Door.

“She saved Khleo’s life by taking away their magic.”

Ozy confirmed with a gentle nod. “Right. She blessed Khleo’s body with accelerated healing and more strength than the average human, but they won’t ever be able to open another Door. What else did the Arcana say?”

“She said that Khleo needs to rest.”

Ozy made a thoughtful sound, his hazel eyes turning to the sky. “That’s what she told me too.”

Kipling reached up and lightly pulled on his ghost lock. “I’m ready to talk, Ozy,” she said it with a smile. “About everything.”

Ozy brought his attention back to Kipling. She was surprised to see that same hesitation on his face that he wore when he first arrived. As if he was expecting a rejection. 

Kip felt her confidence slip as she wrung her hands and fought to maintain eye contact.

“Before we help Khleo, there’s a lot we still have to do first. For one, I need to apologize to you.” She closed her eyes and inhaled a meditative breath before going on. “Ozy, I didn’t want to leave you on the island that day, but I was so disgusted with myself. I had felt like that all year. No matter how much I wanted to, I just couldn’t own up to what I did… to your face.” Her eyes burned, but she opened them anyway and forced herself to look at Ozy and the telling scar over the bridge of his nose. 

“Every time I looked at you, I told myself that everything was my fault. I was the reason Khleo was gone.”

Ozy shook his head and set his jaw. Before Kip could blink, she was holding onto him and he to her. It came somewhat as a shock, this being the most affection they had allowed themselves to show each other since before Khleo’s accident.

“Everything happened like it was supposed to, coz,” Ozy reassured her. But his voice was shaking, his hand trembled as he massaged his fingers into her curls and coils. He was remembering the pain, Kip could tell. And it made her remember too. How much she had pushed Ozy away in the beginning. How she punished him for something that was her fault too. She remembered the year between the accident and leaving for Vesuvia when she refused to let him back in. No matter how much Ozy begged and begged.

Everything happened like it was supposed to.

“No one’s supposed to be alone for ten years!” Kipling sobbed. “But I didn’t know, Ozy. I swear I didn’t know.”

Ozy’s voice regained some of its usual lightness. “Oh no, don’t you dare try to take the blame for that. I knew what I was signing up for. Remember that, Kipling. I put myself down there. Not you.”

Kip hugged him harder. “But I was the one who hurt you. I forced you to make that choice. Family isn’t supposed to do that to each other!”

Ozy pulled back just enough to lift Kip’s chin. “You’re right. Family shouldn’t do that. But you know what else?” He smiled softly. “Family forgives.” He reigned her in against his chest, this time bringing his face to the crown of her head. He breathed in those nostalgic notes of shea butter, coconut oil, and sea salt. Ozy closed his eyes and imagined he was kissing the sugar white shores of his youth. He imagined himself kissing every painful unsavory memory goodbye.

“Now can we be a family again?” He asked, his face still buried in Kip’s hair. “Please? I need to put everything behind me... but I cannot until you let go of all this guilt. Trust me, you don’t need it anymore, Kip. You can let it go.”

And then Kipling… she broke. Water and thunderous sobs poured out of her like she was the sky. Ozy didn’t walk away from the downpour. If anything he held Kipling closer. She had so much water in her, it seemed. As if that sea where they were all were born had been with her this whole time. Kipling had brought it with her to Vesuvia, but pushed it deep, deep down and locked it away.

Ozy let himself be the stone well to catch all of Kipling’s rain. Though he had spent all that time surrounded by water and knowledge, in many ways, it had left him feeling very empty. Oz’mandias knew that as long as he had Kipling, he would never need to know that emptiness again.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Warlock's Apprentice

Pairing: warlock!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, allusion to non-con, breeding, non-graphic depiction of violence, manhandling.

Words: 2373.

Summary: You walked side by side with the Devil.

_____________

You still had hard time believing you were walking down the Great Hall, stepping on the white marbled floors and doing your best not to shake while the members of the court stared down at you as if you were some fairytale creature. You saw giant mirrors hanging on blazing white walls and golden curtains, huge heavy chandeliers with thousands of candles, the statues of gold double eagles - everything here was so different compared to the gloomy tower of the Warlock where it was dark even during the brightest days.

Knowing he watched you out of the corner of his eye, you clenched your teeth, keeping your composure. You had to make a good impression, not gape at the walls like a country girl. Maybe you weren't an aristocrat like most of the people here, but you were the Shadow Enchanter, the Soldat's Apprentice, second only to him, and you had a power to reckon with.

"Keep your head up, girl." You heard Bucky's voice in your head and stiffened involuntary. "We are above them all."

Would you be charged with treason if anyone was to discover what your master was telling you? You bet you would.

You stepped on the blue carpet and finally saw a raised throne of gold at the end of the room, beautiful people in ostentatious clothes milling over it - all you saw were not faces but gowns of silk and brocade, fancy parade uniforms, ribbons, medals, and bawdricks. This extravagance was slowly making your stomach sick, but you thought of your completely black soldier's dress and felt a bit better abour yourself. Your master and you must have looked like two crows among the peacocks.

"The Warlock and Shadow Enchanter." Somebody's loud voice thundered, and you saw the King sitting on the golden throne, the Queen to his right, and two young men standing by their sides.

God, it was happening, truly.

The King looked like a man who carried the weight of the world on his thin shoulders, his face unhealthy pale - you could see the dark circles around his eyes regardless of how court magicians tried to cover them with their glamour charms. It was true then, all the rumors you heard of King's withering health. He was only in his forties, but, apparently, he would hardly last long.

The Queen, on the contrary, looked nothing like her plain husband, her body unmistakably strong, her forms magnificent and face looking fresh with ruddy, healthy glow in her cheeks. Her older son was much like her with the same grace in his features - Steven was his name, and he was the very same Prince Charming all the girls in the Academy were talking about when you were still studying there.

You wanted to stare shamelessly at his immensely handsome face, his eyes blue like southern sky in the summer, but you bit your tongue instead. You were no longer a girl dreaming of marrying princes and living in a high castle.

Then you glanced quickly at the other son, Peter, the one who was about your age. While Steven, undoubtedly, took after his mother, Peter reminded you of the King, although much younger and - you admitted with shame - much prettier. He had dark hair and dark eyes, yet there was light to his face. Maybe he lacked the same intimidating air the other royals had around them, but you saw his dignity, his kind and clever eyes shining with interest as the Warlock and you moved closer to the end of the room.

You liked the younger son, you thought and then cringed as you failed to keep your eyes off the princes once again.

"Please don't collapse if one of them decides to talk to you."

You clenched your teeth tighter, hating this awful manner with which your master intruded in your thoughts all the time.

You needed to keep calm. You were to give your vows to protect the royal family and your kingdom. And later... later you were most certainly to be invited to the royal ball organized in Warlock's honor to celebrate his return. Maybe you would get a glimpse of the princes there.

_____________

"Do you think I brought you here to give you to the prince?" His mocking tone turned dark, poisonous. "You think I've been teaching you magic all these years so you could marry one of those pathetic royals and keep giving them babies with Enchanter's blood running through their veins?"

You tried to move away from the Warlock, but he grabbed you by the arm and brought you closer, watching you wincing in pain.

"My task is to keep away the Great Shadow." You whispered, horrified with your teacher's sudden shift of mood and wishing to run to the door the moment he'd let you go. "It doesn't mean I should be celibate."

"And your husband has to be the prince, of course." Bucky grimaced and cupped your chin, staring at you with his scary light eyes from above. "Women. You're all the same. It is never enough for you, is it? I gave you the power to wreck the world, and all you want is to lay beneath a weakling wearing the crown."

You pushed him, chanting a little spell - you caught him by surprised and quickly stepped back, shiver running down your spine. You had seen the Warlock being furious many times, but never as mad as now, pacing back and forth your chamber like a caged beast, his hands clenched in fists. God, you knew he'd take it badly.

"I've done no wrong." You claimed in a shaky voice, thinking of whether you had to chant a barrier around yourself. "I didn't betray you. His Highness said nothing about marrying me or anything of this kind! We've only danced and talked about science and magic."

Bucky let out a laugh, and you felt your stomach twisting.

"Of course, my dear. No one will say anything to you until one day they'll come to your chambers and announce your wedding with prince without asking for your approval. By the way, sweetheart, which prince do you want?" The knot in your throat prevented you from defending yourself in front of your furious master. "I guess you like the young one more, but you caught the attention of the crown prince. You want to be the Queen, don't you? This is the only thing that matters for a little minx like you."

Biting down on your lip, you felt your eyes watering at his words. Why was he saying that? You had never been power-hungry. You cared little for royals and luxury surrounding them, and your master knew it better than anyone else. Why was he saying that? Why did he need to humiliate you for something you had never wished for even in your dreams?

"But I've got to tell you the truth." The man looked at you bitterly. "You'll never be their equal. They'll treat you like nothing but the tool to strengthen their bloodline, and that's all you got to be for them. You'll become one more of their Assets like I've been before."

"Am I not the Asset to you?" You blinked away the tears and stared at him with revulsion, feeling betrayed. "Weren't you going to use me for your own purpose? Don't tell me you wanted to set me free. What's the difference between you and the royal family?"

"Ungrateful little brat." He hissed and moved before you could create the shield.

The man gripped your hair in his fist and yanked you towards your bed, hovering above you and pushing your face in the mattress with all his force. Your cry was muffled by the blanket as you tried to fight him, but was easily outpowered, ropes binding your arms by your master's command. Your first thought was that Bucky wanted to strangle you in rage - you could hardly breathe beneath his large hand. Knowing his unyielding temperament, you did what you could to wriggle free, chanting more and more spells, yet he was able to undo your clumsy charms with ease.

"Stop struggling." He snarled, pushing your face into the bed. "Or I'll show what you get for talking to your master like that."

His angry voice sounded threatening - the last time you disregard it he whipped you that bad you couldn't sit properly for a week, but today everything might end up much worse that that, you thought. You always got to obey him no matter what.

Why did you had to now, though? You were no longer his little girl, hiding in his shadow. Today you were deemed worthy serving your King, and, in fact, the Warlock had no power over you anymore. Unfortunately, he was never bothered by formalities.

"I have fed you, clothed you, given you the roof above you head and shared my knowledge with you." You heard him growling in your ear as he let you breathe again, moving his palm from your head to the back of your neck. "And this is how you thank me for everything I've done for you?"

"I've served you all these years like a dog." You hissed. "I've cooked and cleaned, I've made so many potions I could make a fortune from it alone, I've protected the Tower when Wakandan magus came searching for you. I took all your beatings without saying a word!"

"I didn't beat you, I've trained you."

"You can call it whatever you like, master." You grinned wickedly at him, watching him with your peripheral vision.

His gaze darkened, and you realized you were only making it worse for yourself. Nevertheless, you refused to be intimidated by him, the man who had ruled over you, took advantage of you, forced you to obey his every whim and keep your mouth shut. You wouldn't let him treat you like that. Not anymore.

You felt his ragged breath on the top of your head, his huge body pressing yours into the mattress. He was the Winter Soldier, the Soldat, the Warlock, but you could bring the Great Shadow to the chamber with a snap of your fingers, and he could do nothing to fight it. The only issue with it was that the King would claim you a traitor instead of savior and send all his soldiers to hunt you till the end of your days.

Suddenly, you sensed Bucky's grip weakening, and then he withdrew his hand, letting you move away from him that very second, ropes falling on the bed sheets. His eyes were as cold as a winter night when he stared at you, crawling away from him on the bed.

"Do you want the crown, Y/N?" The man asked sharply, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

"I want someone to love me." You said angrily. "I want to be treated kindly. I want to feel appreciated. I want all the things you would never give me, master."

For a moment you thought Bucky looked hurt before he was on you again, his hands clenching yours and blocking your charms. As you stared at his face, his expression enraged, you growled just like him.

"Rot in Hell." You barked, almost ready to call the Shadow.

"I've been rotting long before you were born, little girl."

He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. You saw his anger disappearing, but you didn't feel a delicious sense of relief, anxiety washing over you even more.

"They've taken away all I had. They stripped me of any family and friends, my comrades, anything I treasured, and they want to snatch you away from me all the same." He whispered lowly, watching you frown. "Stay with me, and I'll make you a saint in the eyes of people. You're the Shadow Enchanter, you're above all the royals hiding in this wretched place."

"But you want me beneath you." You said, deeply hurt at his words and his desire to control you even when you thought he deemed you worthy of his trust. "Above them all, but beneath you. Don't you see I want to be neither queen nor saint? All I ever wanted was to be treated fairly, and you denied me this. You're keep doing it even now."

Suddenly, you realized tears were streaming down your face and making the pillow beneath you wet.

"What have I done to you? I loved you with all my heart, and you mocked me for it. You've made me force these feelings down my throat. I wanted you to be proud of me, value me, tell me I'm good enough, but you didn't. Now you get mad because someone else dared to do it?"

His eyes went wide at your confession.

"Did you love me? Did you ever love me?"

"I did. I even dreamt of marrying you." You bit back a cry, angry at yourself for telling him the truth when all you wanted was to spit in his face. "Imagine, master, I hoped to bear your children. But if you don't want it, maybe one day someone else would."

"I do. I want it."

You winced from humiliation and a deep sense of shame, your face flushed.

Of course, now he'd say whatever you wanted to hear from him to make you comply again. He'd play with your feelings as he had always done, and in the end you won't ever become the true Shadow Enchanter, you'd always be the Warlock's faithful Apprentice and nothing else.

"Do you think I can believe you now?" You let out a quiet laugh, staring at him with resentment and hate.

"I don't need you to believe me." He said and pressed his dry chapped lips to your forehead. "I'll show you. I'll show you that you're wrong."

Bucky moved slightly, and you felt the bulge in his pants against your thigh. Oh Gods.

"No, no, master, please-"

"I'll make you a saint. I'll put a crown on your pretty head." His whisper burnt your ear when his nose brushed against your temple. "I'll give you all the things you deserve, and no prince will take you away from me."

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki  ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

Be happy again: Chapter 1.

Index: Prologue | 

Warnings: None for this one, a lil melancholy. 

word count: 2.616

(You can change Julia’s name using the interactive fics:https://chrome.google.com/webstore/detail/interactivefics/pcpjpdomcbnlkbghmchnjgeejpdlonli ;))  

You’re not from around here, are you?

George’s first day back had been O.K. He’d come in around 10, checked with Verity and cooped himself up in his office most of the day, only answering any questions Verity or the others had for him. A few times he’d taken a short round of the shop but hadn’t stopped to talk nearly as much as he used to. He still couldn’t bear it. His conversations seemed cut short as if he still half expected his twin to interrupt and add to his sentences, and when Fred didn’t, George’s sentences hadn’t taken up the remaining space, instead: George Weasley had become a man of few words. Now it was half past six, and the shop had nearly closed. George had sent the other workers home, and was sorting out a few documents he’d been putting off signing, before he thought he’d go and lock the entrances. He expected he’d go upstairs, slowly, for walking into the apartment was not much different than walking around the shop without the banter from his twin. Equally empty. That was when the shops’ alarm system went off. George gave a start, he’d completely forgotten what it sounded like, and especially how loud it was. It had been Fred’s idea to make it that way, he’d figured it would scare the culprit enough to make them refrain from trying to steal from them again. It didn’t sound like a regular alarm, it was more of several alarms mixed together into a cacophony of ringing, whining and trumpeting, George thought he heard a car horn as he headed for the front of the shop. He expected to see someone running away from the shop but instead was met by the sight of a young woman hastily dragging a young girl with her towards the front door. George bent behind the counter and turned the switch as they entered. The woman stopped in front of the desk and pointed to the girl, a little exasperated, 

“I’m really sorry, it seems my daughter accidentally took something from you, and she’d very much like to return it now-” She looked down and locked eyes with the girl- “isn’t that right Fae?” 

George looked down at the girl - she didn’t look much older than 10- who placed a box on the desk and stared up at him in silence as if she half expected him to start yelling at her. George didn’t know what to say to her, so instead he looked at what she’d taken, the picture of the ship and two swooning youths told him immediately what it was, “Ah, patented daydream charm, huh?” He thought out loud, the girl didn’t answer, her mother stared, George thought the way the girl stood there petrified reminded him of Ginny a little, a smile tugged at his lips, he leaned on the desk, 

“You know, I can’t sell it to you unless you’re 16,” He said, the girl looked mortified now, George suppressed a laugh, “but, I can show you something that might be a bit more age appropriate-” He pointed to a shelf behind them and started towards it, he trailed his hand over the contents of the shelf for a moment, contemplating what would suit the girl best, 

“Ah,” He said as his hand landed on a box, “Fae was it?” 

“Yes,” the girl said, 

“How’s your spelling, Fae?” George asked, handing her the box containing the reusable hangman, she studied it for a moment, her mother peering over her shoulder, 

“I don’t get it.” Fae said, looking up at George, who frowned, 

“Well, d’you wanna try it?” 

“Sure,” Fae said, 

“Oh, I’m sure the man wants to close his shop, Fae, we don’t want to be a bother,” She looked up at George apologetically, her hands already on Fae’s shoulders, 

“No, no it’s alright,” He said, “I have time.” 

“Really?” The woman asked, 

“A good businessman always has time for his customer,” George said with a grin. Fae smiled, “Now, shall we try it?” George asked her, 

“Can I try other things too?” Fae asked, 

“Is there something else you’d rather try?” George answered, Fae pointed to the firework display, 

“What about those?” she asked, her mother looked at George, her mouth a thin line, 

“Erh, well,” George answered, “I suppose so?” he’d hardly finished his sentence before Fae was at the display, looking over the different boxes, George glanced at the woman before following, she looked nervous to say the least, which George only half understood, was he really that intimidating without his ear? 

He grabbed a Crystal Incantation Comet and showed it to Fae, who was eyeing the Weasleys’ Wildfire Whizbangs with great interest. 

“I think these would suit you a bit better,” he said, 

“But,” Fae hesitated, “these look cooler.” She said quietly, George didn’t hold back his chuckle now, 

“They are cool, but I suggest building up to them, start with this one.” He said and handed it to her, 

“You said that I could try them.” Fae said matter-of-factly, George shrugged a little, 

“If you mother here doesn’t mind?” He looked at the woman, who’d remained behind, eyeing the back where the muggle tricks sat, George wasn’t surprised by this; quite a few people his age (and older) were interested in them, not enough to buy them, but he suspected most wizards and witches found it amusing to see what a muggle would define as “magic”. She looked at him then at the box then at Fae. 

“Erh, aren’t they just normal fireworks?” She asked, 

“No, mum, they’re magical fireworks-” Fae said in a tone that again reminded George of Ginny at that age, and perhaps Percy too, if he was honest, “right?” She looked up at George who nodded, 

“As magical as they come.” He answered. The mother looked at the box with some hesitation, 

“Meaning what exactly?” she asked, George’s brow creased a little, 

“well mostly that they’re better, and you can affect them with certain spells, the Whizbangs are unstoppable until they run out of power in their own time, any attempt to shrink or stop them only makes them double,” when the woman gave him a look that seemed the closest a human could come to mimic the words no, thank you without actually saying it, George shifted in his track, “these aren’t so bad, they’re a bit quicker, and not as intense, but they’re just as fun.” He explained. 

“What’s the most magical thing you have?” Fae asked, again George had an inkling in the back of his head, but he didn’t react on it, 

“Well that depends on what you mean with magical, I have weather-” 

“Weather?” Fae asked, 

“Yeah, I can make it snow anywhere, is that magical enough?” 

“Yes! Can you show me!” Fae said, and George nodded,

 “If you stay right there-” He moved towards the stairs in the middle of the shop, 

“Can you really?” Fae’s mother asked as he passed her, he smirked at her while he started to climb the stairs, 

“Wait and see for yourself,” he said. He opened a cabinet with a key he kept in his pocket and took a white bottle, he walked over to the edge of the upper floor from which he could look down at an excited Fae, who no longer resembled the timid girl he’d met only minutes earlier, and next to her her mother stood, looking more concerned and slightly suspicious. 

“Are you ready?” George called, a yell from Fae answered his question, and he pressed down on the pump which made the bottle exclaim a great fizz along with a spray of soft, real looking snowflakes. George pressed the pump a couple more times, then got a new bottle and went down the stairs. 

Fae was holding her hands out catching the snowflakes in her palms, while her mother stood and stared at the real as life snowflakes slowly descended downwards, her mouth shaped into a shocked ‘O’. George had to admit, as much as he preferred the pyrotechnics and pranks, the weather series they’d created were stunning too: The snowflakes sparkled in the vivid, early summer sun, turning them orange, though the magic in them made some of them have a persistent blueish purple sheen, making them resemble diamonds more than snow. 

“Wow,” Fae breathed, as she craned her neck to look up at the ceiling, where the snowflakes continued to emerge from seemingly out of nowhere. Her mother turned to George, her eyes wide, 

“How did you do that?” she said softly, George grinned, “As much as I’d love to tell you, mrs…?” He trailed off when he realised he hadn’t asked for her name yet, 

“Julia,” she said, “just Julia- no mrs.” she added, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, 

“Right, just Julia,” George continued, “as much as I’d love to tell you, I’m afraid I have to keep that a secret, can’t have people knowing how it’s all made, it removes interest.” 

“Like magicians?” Julia said, George thought for a moment, 

“I suppose?” he answered, not sure what exactly a magician had to do with secrets, 

“Can we buy it?” Fae asked, tucking at Julia’s jacket, 

“Yes, we can.” Julia said, and George gestured to the front desk, stepping behind it and placing the bottle in a box, then in a bag, 

“It won’t ruin my floors or anything, will it?” Julia asked, smiling the most genuine smile she’d shown all the time she’d been there, George laughed, 

“Don’t worry, it won’t,” he chuckled as he handed her the bag, “That’ll be 3 galleons, 5 sickles and 12 knuts.” George popped open the register out of habit, 

Julia said a small “oh right” and found a small money bag inside her purse, which she fumbled with for a long moment, where George and Fae watched Julia pick up coins, examine them only to drop them back in again and gather another couple, George tilted his head with a frown, 

“You’re not from around here are you?” He asked, he didn’t know how else to phrase it, asking are you a muggle? seemed too straightforward, and slightly interrogative. Julia looked up at him, 

“Is it that obvious?” she asked, George frowned again, now that he was aware of it, she certainly wasn’t sporting any kind of wizard robes but that wasn’t unusual for people his age, though her confusion and hesitation towards the shop certainly made more sense now. He gave her a compassionate smile and reached out his hand for the money bag, which Julia gave him with an air of embarrassment that George shrugged off, he didn’t think there was any reason for her to be embarrassed, 

“The money system here never made sense, anyways,” He mumbled and Julia chuckled. George’s eyes flickered up to look at her quickly, then returned to the money. He picked out the correct amount quickly and handed the bag back to her. 

“I’m guessing that you don’t have anyone in your family who’s a witch or wizard?” He asked, resting his hands on the desk, Julia’s smile turned sheepish, 

“Erh, no-” her hand flew up to fidget with the strap of her purse, her other hand holding Fae’s hand, “I honestly didn’t know all this existed until Fae got her letter, and suddenly this woman was at our door and-” She shook her head as if trying to rustle all the puzzle pieces together, “It’s a lot to take in, if I’m honest.” She said, squeezing Fae’s hand, Fae simply looked up at Julia with a slight frown. 

“Well, you must’ve had an idea of Fae being a witch,” George said, then realised how strange that sounded and hurriedly added “I mean, she must’ve shown signs, right? most of us do when we’re kids.” He nodded at Fae, who beamed, 

“I made the pictures fall off the wall,” she said, puffing out her chest, Julia and George both chuckled, 

“Nearly scared the life out of me, is what you did,” Julia said, nudging her daughter a little, “but yes, she did make strange things occur but I somehow never thought to even consider- I mean you have to understand,” Julia sounded apologetic and George shook his head a little, 

“No, I do understand, it’s foreign to you, it makes sense that you’d think along more scientific lines, I suppose it’s just so ordinary for us that we know to look for signs in our own children, so we never question it when someone shows signs of magic as a child.” he said. Then he thought for a moment. “You really don’t have anyone to consult about all this stuff?” George asked, he didn’t know why but something told him to offer to help Julia, despite not knowing her at all. Julia shrugged, “I mean, no - the woman from the school told me to come here, find some books on the subject, get to know the currency, stuff like that. But no.” She said with an it-is-what-it-is smile. George searched one of the drawers in the desk, “Why don’t I-” he pulled out a quill and a block of paper, originally meant for taking postal orders- “give you my info, then you can ask for help, if there’s anything you need, like figuring out the currency, for example,” he said with a slight smirk, Julia mouthed wordlessly before stuttering: “No-No I couldn’t - it’s- I-” George held out the piece of paper, “You don’t have to, if you don’t want to but just in case, it might be nice to have someone who knows about all this stuff ready to help, don’t you think?” He said. Julia looked at the slip for a bit before taking it, “thank you, you’re really too kind- erh…” She trailed off, much as he had done himself, “George,” he said, 

“right, well thank you, George, really you have no idea- what am I supposed to do with your address?” She asked, as she looked at the paper again, George frowned, “Well, it’s so you can send me and owl, you just tell it the address, and-” He stopped, Julia was staring at him like he’d grown another head, “Owl?” she said, “don’t wizards have phones?” she added, George thought for a moment, 

“I think I might have one in the back,” he said, “my dad cares a lot about muggle technology and stuff, so I can use that one, maybe?” He said, 

“great, what’s your number?” Julia asked, 

“Uhm…” 

“You don’t know what your own phone number is?” Fae asked, 

“Well, I’ve never really had to use it.” George admitted. 

“Tell you what, I’ll give you my number, and then you can call me, let it ring until after it beeps, then leave a message so I can hear what your number is and write it down, ok?” Julia said, grabbing the quill and writing down her number. George noticed she wrote something else below it. 

“Here you go,” She said, “and thank you again, George, really.” she said with an earnest smile which George gladly returned. 

“no problem,” George said, 

“Say thank you, Fae,” Julia said, 

“Thank you, George,” Fae said, “and I’m sorry for accidentally stealing from you, I just wanted to show mum,” 

“It’s quite alright,” George chuckled, “I hope you enjoy the snow.” 

Fae glanced behind her several times whilst they walked down the street toward the end of Diagon Alley, and George waved every time, until he couldn’t see them anymore. Then he headed upstairs, dreading the quiet apartment and being alone more so than he had earlier. 

_____________

Taglist: @rewritingthefictional @ickle-ronniekins @keoghans​ @lilcutekittykat​ @proflongbttm​ @silentexplorer18

[sunflower-swan]

Wolfstar Chapter 13

A/N: Here’s what you need to know: I created this story for Writer’s Month 2020. Every day is a new prompt, and therefore a new chapter. This is an AU Wolfstar where Remus is a tattoo artist next door to Sirius who manages a flower shop. James and Lily are alive in this universe and own a coffee shop across the street. And to make parts of the story work with the prompts, Remus is about 10 years older than Sirius. It also takes place more or less in present time, minus Covid-19.

This is chapter 13 of a multi-chapter work. If you’d like to start from the beginning, here is chapter 1.

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters. I just like to play with them.

Day 13 Prompt: Music

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1788

Tags: feelings, fluff

Chapter 13

Sirius

Oasis, “Wonderwall”

Backbeat, the word was on the street

That the fire in your heart is out

I'm sure you've heard it all before

But you never really had a doubt

I don't believe that anybody

Feels the way I do about you now

A/N: Call me basic, but I love the song “Wonderwall”, and the lyrics fit perfectly into what is happening between Remus and Sirius right now. Also, despite the opinion of the internet, this song is, in my opinion, not easy to strum correctly and also sing. 

“Morning, Sirius,” James said as Sirius walked into Potter’s Wheel. He was wiping off the counter with a rag.

“Hey, James. How’s it going?” 

“Not bad. Lily took Harry to visit her sister today, so I’m on my own this morning. Which is fine,” his nose crinkled, “I’d rather be here than visit her family.”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Well, I won’t keep you from it then. I need two usuals to go.”

“To go?”

“Remus had an early appointment this morning, so I told him I’d deliver his coffee.”  

“Lucky man.” James raised his eyebrows before disappearing to the back to prepare the coffee order.

Sirius tapped his fingers on the counter while he waited for James to reappear. He noticed a flyer on the bulletin board advertising an Open Mic Night at the coffee shop that night. Hmm...could be fun? Maybe I can convince Remus to come, too. Wait...would that seem...date-ish? No, two friends can do stuff together. Doesn’t have to be weird or mean anything. Besides, Remus has made it abundantly clear that he does not date. There’s no way he would even think of it that way. Do I want him to think of it that way? Do I want to think of it that way? Sirius smacked himself in the forehead. With a little too much force. Ouch.

“What’d you do that for?” James laughed as he emerged from the back with Sirius’ coffees.

Sirius massaged his now sore forehead. “Thinking too hard.”

James set the coffees on the counter and began to ring up the total. “Never thought that was something you had to worry about much,” he said with a chuckle.

“Shut up, Prongs. How much?”

“Four pounds.”

He pulled out a fiver and handed it to James. “Keep the change,” he said, then pointed at the Open Mic Night flyer. “So what’s up with that? Open Mic Night?”

“That was Lils' idea.” James opened and closed the register. “Try to drum up some new business,” he added with a shrug. “Want to take a couple flyers to hang in the flower shop? Maybe Remus would hang one, too?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll ask him.”

“Hey!” James slammed his hand on the counter. “You should play!”

Sirius jumped back, startled from the sudden hand slam. “What?”

“Guitar! Open Mic tonight! You should play!”

Oh...no. “Eh, no. I’ll come and watch other people make a fool of themselves. I only play for myself.” And Remus one time, I guess, technically. “Playing in public sounds…”

James scrutinized him. “You know, I’m starting to think you don’t actually know how to play guitar. You’ve just been winding us up this whole time.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Fine. I’ll show you. See you tonight.”

Sirius grabbed the coffees and swept out of the shop. He was pretty sure he had been tricked into agreeing to that.

When he walked into the tattoo lounge, Remus was in the middle of a sitting. He was hunched over in concentration working on...oh! Logan. Sirius’ skin prickled at the look of lust glittering in Logan’s eyes as he watched Remus work.

“I’m at a good spot to take a break,” Remus said with a glance at Sirius. He sat his tools down, removed his gloves, stood up, and stretched. “You can move around or eat something if you want,” he added to Logan.

Remus walked over to Sirius and accepted the mocha cappuccino offered to him. He took a long sip and let out a grateful sigh. “Thanks, mate. I needed that.”

“You didn’t mention your appointment this morning was with Logan,” Sirius said in an undertone.

“Sure I did.” Remus’ brows drew together. “Didn’t I?” He frowned.

Sirius brought his own coffee to his mouth. “Nope.”

Remus shrugged and looked away.

Shady little shit, thought Sirius. “Oh, hey!” He dug the flyer out of his pocket and held it up for Remus to read. “We’re going to this.”

“What is this?” Remus took it out of Sirius' hands.

“James and Lily are hosting an Open Mic Night tonight and James goaded me into performing,” said Sirius, “and we’re going,” he added with emphasis directed in Logan’s direction. Remus was too busy reading the flyer to notice.

“Ok. Sounds fun.” Remus' eyes sparkled, and Sirius' insides melted.

He left the parlour feeling giddy with excitement.

~~~~~

Sirius locked up the flower shop for the day and apparated home to clean up before Open Mic Night. He walked into the flat and tossed his keys on the entrance table. Six weeks ago he hadn’t been capable of being here without having a breakdown. At what point had he stopped spending every waking second consumed by grief? It had been gradual, of that he was certain. Noticing his life had mostly returned to normal was a surreal realization.

He took a quick shower, then stood wrapped in a towel and stared into his closet. Sirius placed one hand on the wall while he considered what to wear. He patted his fingers rhythmically in contemplation. I don’t want to look like I’m trying. But I also don’t want to look like a slob. When did choosing an outfit become a life or death decision? It’s just hanging out Remus. This is not a big deal.

After much internal struggle, he finally settled on his vintage Poison tee, not overly distressed jeans, and black converse. He studied his reflection in the mirror as he pulled his still damp hair back into a bun.

“Eh.” He shrugged. “Could be worse.”

He picked up the case containing his Martin acoustic, and headed out the door.

~~~~~

When Sirius walked into Potter’s Wheel, he was struck by the transformation. A small platform had been set up in the corner in which he and Remus usually sat. On the platform stood a mic. Two large speakers, one on each side, completed the make-shift stage. Most of the tables had been cleared away, and the chairs had been placed in rows facing the temporary mini-stage. A rather large crowd had already assembled and were mingling about, buying coffee and chatting to each other. 

Sirius searched for Remus through the sea of people. His heart skipped a beat when he finally spotted him. Remus was leaning casually against the counter, observing the mass of people. Instead of ignoring the sensation or burying it deep down, which had been his M.O. since they met, he smiled to himself and embraced the feeling.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way through the crowd to where Remus stood. A warm and fuzzy feeling overcame him as he drew nearer. He noticed Remus had dressed simply in a forest green oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and well-worn brogues below cuffed dark wash denim.

Remus looked in his direction and beamed upon seeing him. “Sirius!” he called and waved.

“Hey, Remus.” Sirius finally weaved his way over to Remus. “Crazy in here, huh?”

Before Remus could reply, James' voice was heard on the sound system over the din. “Hello? Hello? Hi, everybody.” He waved. “Welcome to the Potter’s Wheel, and thanks for coming out tonight. If you will be participating in Open Mic Night, then I need you to sign up,” he held up a clipboard, “on this sheet. And then we’ll get started pretty soon if you want to find a seat. Alright?” He smiled and stepped down.

“I’ll hold that,” Remus gestured toward Sirius' guitar, “and find us seats while you go sign up.”

Sirius glanced down. He didn’t usually let other people hold his guitar. It was very precious to him.

“Yeah. Ok.” He handed the case to Remus. “Treat it like you would a baby.”

“Got it.” Remus chuckled.

A queue had already formed in front of James by the time Sirius got there. Eventually he made it to James to add his name to the list, then turned around to look for Remus again. He found him on the end of one of the back rows of chairs and took the seat Remus had saved for him.

“Here you go.” Remus passed the guitar back to Sirius. “I treated it very well,” he added with a smirk.

Sirius set the case between his legs and settled back to enjoy the show. All the while a nervous knot twisted in his stomach. There were a good variety of acts including comedians, magicians, musicians, and even a guy who swung around balls of fire. Then it was his turn.

His Converse squeaked as he walked up to the small stage. He set his case on the ground, took out his Whiskey Sunset Dreadnought and slid the leather strap over his shoulder. Turning his back to the audience, he checked the tuning of the strings and strummed a few chords. Sirius turned back around, stepped up to the microphone, and searched out Remus' face in the crowd to calm his nerves.

“Hi.” The PA squealed, and Sirius leaned back from the mic until it stopped. “Ahem, uh, hey. Um, I’m Sirius. Hi.” He waved and chuckled. “And, erm, I’m going to sing a song. And, well, the truth is,” he scratched his arm, “a couple months back I was lost in a pretty dark place, and a really great friend was the light that led me out, so, uh, yeah. Here we go.”

Sirius wiped the sweat off his palms and adjusted the pick between his fingers. Then he started the intro to ‘Wonderwall.’ He closed his eyes and let the chords wash over him.

He sang, “Today is gonna be the day that they’re gonna throw it back to you…”

His heart thudded in his chest, but he ignored it and allowed himself to be swept into the performance.

When he reached the chorus, he opened his eyes and locked them on Remus. “‘Cause maybe, you’re gonna be the one that saves me … And after all, you’re my wonderwall.” He smiled through the break before the third verse, and now his heart was thundering for a reason other than nerves.

He finished the song and the audience went wild with clapping, and whistles, and foot stomps.

“Thank you,” he said into the mic, and left the stage.

James was there when he stepped off to give him a great big thumping hug. 

Sirius' legs felt like jelly as he made his way back to his seat as James was announcing the next performer. He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face as he reached Remus, who stood and also gave him a hug. The next act was starting, so they had to take their seats and wait for the evening to conclude.

A/N: Noel Gallagher’s acoustic version of this song is sorta how I imagine Sirius performing it. You should check it out on YouTube. Also, the Schitt’s Creek episode where Patrick sings to David was some of the inspiration for this chapter.

Next Chapter: Chapter 14

[jbbuckybarnes]

Distant Connection - 11/11

Pairing: Bucky x Harmonia (OC) Warnings: mentions of wicca/witchcraft, fight, fluff, Summary: After an unknown group of goons took her mom’s life and tried to get her for the dark magic powers she possesses, this untaught witch is saved by the Avengers and brought to the compound where her new life unfolds.

MASTERLIST || Distant Connection Masterlist

“Are you ready to go to Asgard, Harmony?” Thor's voice broke the silence. Only James was standing there with her. It was early, the others didn’t need to know and this was something she needed to find out for herself.

With a nod she walked up to him, had an arm slung around her waist and the Bifrost opening above them. With a smile at James they went through a colorful tunnel that was fascinating her more than her own magic. A scientist would love this but she didn’t have much time to think about it since all of a sudden she was surrounded by warm light. In front of her was the rainbow bridge and the entirety of Asgard. “Welcome back, Odinson.” Came from a deep voice. “Heimdall. This is my Midgardian friend Harmonia,” he answered. “Thor,” she said a little bit distressed and both turned to her. There was some kind of aura building up around her that turned more gold the longer it was there. “She is not Midgardian. She is a demigod like you, Odinson.” Heimdall looked at him. “Great. I would LOVE to know what that means for me,” she said interrupting their little moment. “You’ll collect energy in sacred places. Like Asgard.” The man explained to her. “And what does that do to me on Earth?” She asked turning fully to them. “Well, you’re a demigod everywhere. Who are your ancestors?” He asked back. “She only knows that her name is Harmonia Gaia Aphrodite,” Thor answered for her while she was staring at the golden aura around her. “You’re reincarnated Gaia and Aphrodite in Midgard form?” He suggested. “I mean, I guess. Dark magic people are after me on earth. So I’ll assume there is something to it,” she said trying to create magic in her hands. “Don’t underestimate your powers, Harmonia.” Came from beside her but the blue was already as big as a flame before she hectically undid her magic. “Let me show you Asgard,” Thor said beside her with a smile before they finally went on with it.

“...and that’s where we have outdoor celebrations.” He pointed to an area before someone appeared in front of them. “And that’s my brother Loki,” he said smiling. She gave him a little wave, “Nice to meet you, Loki.” “Who is your...midgardian...demigod friend?” His soft voice asked. “Harmonia.” She smiled at him. He took her hand and bowed. Unlike James the day before he meant it seriously. “You are way above the likes of me and my brother. It is certainly nice to have you here in Asgard.” His whole expression was soft, the complete opposite of the Loki everyone saw in New York a few years before. “Can I invite you somewhere? We have great food here.” He smiled with his soft expression. Thor witnessing this smiling since he really believed in the goodness of his brother. “Do you...have a library where I can learn more about everything that has been happening to me?” It was weird for her to talk this politely all of a sudden but she kinda liked it. “Of course, let me bring you there.” He gestured her into the direction. Thor just let it happen, it felt right and she also probably could kick him through the entirety of Asgard if she wanted to in the worst case. “I like the yellow in your cape.” She smiled at him and Thor could visibly see his shoulders relax before they were out of sight. “It’s to honor my mother.” His smile was genuine. “I read many great things about her. Did you learn the clone thing from her?” She was curious. He nodded “All types of illusions.” A tiny bit of sadness shined through. She put a hand on his shoulder, “I know how it feels to lose someone so important. I constantly search small ways to honor my mother too. She died a few months ago, trying to protect me.” There was grief reflecting in her eyes. “My deepest condolences. Maybe it helps to think about her still being there in spirit. Asgardians believe in these things too.” They stopped in front of a big door with gold details. The guards opened it and behind was a gigantic library. “Feel free to read anything you’d like. What topics are you preferring?” He asked. “Books on Gaia & Aphrodite. A little bit about magic and dark magic.” His head lifted up a bit when he heard her say dark magic. “Why dark magic?” He asked curiously. “Dark magic people were after me on Earth, killed my mom. Avengers came and saved me. They came to us, that one person explained that I’m part of their prophecy and that I shouldn’t be on Earth. And because I can do magic myself. Just that I don’t use it to harm.” She gave him the short version. “If you ever need me to…” he made some fighting gestures, “...just let me know.” “Only if you promise not to send a whole space army down to Earth again.” She stared him right into his soul. He nodded, “I wasn’t myself doing this. It was the mind stone controlling me...and a little bit of me.” He tried to explain. "I understand. You have a way, uuh, softer personality compared to New York." She smiled at him softly not wanting to insult him by calling him soft but he didn't seem to be bothered.

He showed her the shelves stacked with hundreds of books about magic and searched for some books about the two goddesses she seemingly channeled. "You know...I learned about you in my studies about witchcraft before I even knew about my powers. It's really fascinating. Your whole story and all the magic stuff you can do." she could tell that he needed to hear that since it was clear that he didn't always have the best life. "I can tell you some more stories whenever you'd like." He smiled bright, finally. "Can I ask a...personal question?" The words came very reluctantly. "Sure." He was really not a bit bad right now. It felt strange but refreshing. "You're a frost giant, right? Can you do frost giant things or did you never learn that?" She was curious and although his eyes became kinda distant for a moment he still tried to answer. "A few things but...not much." He almost got shy for a second. "I like that your life is so layered and that you have so much history...and I'm sorry if I'm getting annoying." She stopped herself. "No, it's pleasant to hear. I don't hear praise from Midgardians often," He answered while she opened the first book. "I truly believe people can get better. It's nice to see that you're going into a good direction, Loki." She smiled while reading. "Mind if I sit with you?" He gestured to the chair next to her. "Not at all." She looked up for a second. The next minutes were spent in a pleasant silence that was only interrupted by turning pages. "Is my brother talking about me on Midgard?" His serious question breaks through the silence. "Sometimes. I'm not around him too much with all the other people around. He tells stories of you tricking him quite a lot. It's very sweet." A small smile formed on his face for a moment. "I'd love to visit Midgard again one day." He was a bit lost in thoughts for a while. The nice moment was interrupted by Thor storming in, "Harmony, we need to go. The compound." She instantly stood up from the chair, looking back at Loki, telling him, "I hope you tell me some stories next time." Before hectically walking with Thor.

They came back right to where they were departing before to see fire and a bunch of dark magicians keeping the Avengers together with their powers. The only person able to defend them being Wanda. Harmony's shock turned into deep anger. "You won't take my second family away from me," she screamed and got their attention. "You were in Asgard. All we need now is to harvest your energy." The man in the middle answered while she positioned herself in front of the Avengers. "You won't do anything with anyone. Not on my watch." The anger and passion laced in her voice was accompanied by her eyes turning glowing red. Her body elevated from the floor while she broke the shield around the others with a purple protection spell way stronger than their shared magic. "You won't get anything from me!" She grumbled holding out her hand and having Mjölnir flying perfectly into it seconds later before holding it up with the shock on the faces in front and behind her and crashing down lighting on everything daring to touch her family. Thor had made his way around them by now and attacked them from behind. The god of thunder didn't need to have a weapon to be a weapon. Both worthy Avengers made short process with most of the magicians and Wanda was the first one to get back into fighting mode and finished the stronger leader with the Harmony & Thor in a big implosion before there was a dead silence filled with hectic breathing and sounds of fire crackling. "What was that?" Harmony mumbled. Everything happened way too fast. "They just showed up, burned everything down. All I could do was protect them. No way fighting that many alone." Wanda said out of it and exhausted. She grabbed her into a tight hug, "Thank you." Both turned around to the others still shocked at what had happened. "Are you all okay? I'm so sorry." She ran towards them and looked at each of them. "I think we need to change nicknames." Steve tried to lighten the mood when she stopped in front of him. She smiled and her hand went over his arm, looking at his wrist that was slightly burned. "James!" She almost threw herself into his arms. "I'm okay. I'm so proud of you. Everything's okay. It's just this part of the compound." He was so programmed on calming her spiraling mind. "You need to get some stitches in your side." She cupped his face with a hurt smile while Wanda tried to contain the fire with her powers. "So...is nobody going to talk about her being worthy, or?" Tony broke the depressed mood. "And a demigod," she whispered. Only James could hear it and smiled even more caring. "Friday? Can you make the C349 build into a pipe that can put water onto that burning pile?" Tony's voice asked and some metal scraps flew through the air pumping water from the lake onto the compound. "Are we ordering Pizza?" Clint asked deadpanning. "Only if they also deliver ice cream," Nat answered totally done with her friend but smiling.

[goldporces]

Sigma x Reader “Fix You”

Rating: G

Words: 2958

Description: An AU where Siebren is rescued from Talon, several months after you became his unofficial therapist, and only friend.

Note: There are multiple song references hidden in this fic, and if you get them all, well..  Congrats. The title is the reference to Coldplay’s song “Fix You”.

"This is working out quite well, isn’t it?"

A little spin of a pen on his fingers, a little smile on his mouth. Siebren knew he was doing magic and played a little game of pretending to be a real magician - with this long "wand", doing circular patterns in the air with it, as if he was casting a spell.

You were only a few footsteps away from the scientist, wiping the old equations he’s written before from a whiteboard, and - you absolutely can’t stress it enough - his handwriting looked like a painting itself, apart from the absolute work of art it has supposed to help to construct. There were questions marks, little dots and arrows everywhere, as much as little sketches and supposed staged of progress of his new invention. Breathing out and taking only a small step back, you decided that that’s going to do for now, there is plenty of clear space for the scientist to work on already, and you’re sure that right now he’s ready to show you a part of what he created, as usual.

After turning your head slowly and tiredly to look at Siebren, you meet his eyes, which happens very rarely, if anyone happen to ask you. The man can’t look you in the eyes for long, as he can’t establish eye contact with anyone for long now, but you absolutely don’t blame him for that.

You never blame him for anything.

In fact, that’s a crucial part of your job here. From what it might look like, you are his apprentice, or his student at least, taking care of all sorts of things around him, related to his job. You bring him instruments when needed, you search for things when he requires them in urgency, you sometimes clean the equipment (and it doesn’t bother you in the slightest).

But that’s only a cover-up. Your actual role here is, in fact, quite different.

You were a volunteer to participate in... the latest years of Siebren’s life. Aside from taking care of his surroundings and some parts of his own job, you stepped up to take care of him as well.

You are quite of a scientist yourself, but not on the stereotypical one. In actuality, you study people in a group and cognitive behaviors of a singular person. Upon taking in consideration your future career, you stumbled across Dr. Kuipers work. Completely astonished by it, you wanted to take a look deeper and understand the person behind it, the one who’s done this massive research and put a new path for humanity, the mind that was capable of more than anyone you ever met.

But as you discovered more and more sides to his story, you realized that something’s not quite right, though.

Many things are not right, in fact.

And they’re all are equal to small mistakes within a complex equation that won’t let it work as it’s supposed to, except there is no way to fix it. You would always come up with the wrong result.

Always broken.

You meet his eyes, finally, of course you were thinking only about the precious eye contact with Siebren, weren’t you? You’re not surprised that your thoughts have trickled down to recalling recent events, both from your life, and the tragic life of someone who just happens to stand in a little distance away.

He was taken by force, internal and external. What he has discovered - a mystery, known only to a single man, a man without his normal life to come in the future. They took it away. Friends, perhaps spouse, kids, grandkids, a job, family, celebration, traveling, world, but most importantly..

Happiness.

They took away his happiness.

They put him inside 4 identical looking walls. By internal and external power, he was forced into walking in circles every day, with no contact to humanity. What he had was so similar to a hamster’s environment in his beloved cage - food dispensers, water bottles. Medication. Everything surrounding him was.. white..

Until he started seeing things.

And hearing things.

"What’s on your mind?" Siebren was staring at you for more than just few moments, and your gaze stayed in the same blank state it was. You shook your head. The thought of smiling slipped in your head to ensure him that you’re fine. However, you didn’t. At that moment, you definitely could consider yourself emotionally strong, but you still could’t manage to lift the corners of your lips in a positive expression after bearing with the thoughts about Dr. Kuiper’s trauma.

Oh no, you, by any means, couldn’t claim that you can feel what he feels, or understand what he felt, ever. His feelings are beyond any human to understand.

You take a seat on one of the tables, just a little walk away from where you stood. Feet not touching the ground, you carefully observed what Kuiper was planning to do next.

And yes, you do have to do it carefully, because he had enough of people watching him already. And still does, except you can’t see them.

But, you’re absolutely sure that you’re the only real person he has around, and will gladly explain him that if the scientist starts seeing others again. After months worth of time around Siebren, you know exactly how to socialize with him, being in any emotional state.

"I was just wondering if I’ll get to see you test your creation", his face changed to a calmer, softer expression as soon as he heard your voice, and you might’ve had a clue why.

You’re the only one to talk to him so friendly in years. Decades.

"Right." He smiled at you, strangely, because he doesn’t smile first to anyone. Ever. Just how much happiness you bring to his mind by a simple conversation?

"I might set this off, shortly, after I.. Maybe, check if this part here works too.."

The scientist kept looking for something, examining as close as possible, then held the small machine, then spun it in his hands, and put it down. You started to notice: he’s muttering something so quiet you can’t really understand what exactly, he’s frowning at nothing, he started walking around too fast.

His hands were shaking.

"No, no, no, no! This can’t be working at all!" Kuiper threw a quick glance on the surroundings, overwhelmed and nervous, his eyes darting in different directions now. "I made a mistake somewhere. I definitely can’t let this happen. Did they make me do it again? What is this for?"

Siebren looked at you, at your calm and organized facial expression, and you could hear his breathing, that has quickened in a matter of seconds, echoing in the small walls you were together in.

"Maybe I didn’t want anything to work at all in the first place. What if this was my plan all along? I can’t show you, although I want to, but I-", slamming his fists on the table and making instruments and gears jump on it, the scientist cried, "Don’t want them to control my mind again!"

"Nobody is here, Siebren. Only you and me." You speak for the first time since he started breaking down, still having the same calm demeanor and peaceful aura around you. "Nobody doesn’t know what you’re doing, because nobody is watching us."

It was true. Both of you weren’t in a glass chamber, nor in a secured or guarded space. They were no cameras or watching devices.

You still remember the day he saw a camera, recording something, in the upper corner of the room you were in. It was set off. You had to prove him, that it doesn’t exist, climb up a ladder, put a tape in front, so it wouldn’t film anything at all. And only then he said it disappeared.

He smiled to you first that day.

"But what if I was obeying the orders in my head all this time I spent on this machine? Is this even safe to use? I have no idea at all! I hear people constantly telling me that I should escape, because somebody’s keeping me hostage, and I have to destroy all of this place, and!.."

His shaking voice (intervening with white noise?) finally stopped, as the man suddenly shifted his eyes to the ceiling. It was white.

"That music is playing again.."

As fast as Siebren sunk his head down, your heart sunk to the very bottom of your chest. This was too much already, but you knew you can’t help him in the beginning of it, because any interaction with his strong emotions could cause anomalies, that he was only now learning how to control. But you absolutely didn’t want for him to come to this stage.

"Siebren."

Your voice was calling, endearing.

"Come here."

When the man rushed to your open arms, he was tall enough to drop on his knees in front of you and still be able to bury his face in your chest, despite you sitting up a little higher than the ground. Kuiper’s body was trembling, twisting and turning, the emotional agony that flowed out in a physical one, the one that you’ve never seen happen to anyone at all. Your heart was pounding in fear, but only after a few moments you’d discover that his own was beating even faster, and it probably would’ve reached the speed of sound, if only you weren’t here to put an end to this. To calm him down.

"There’s nothing to be scared of. You will stop hearing it eventually, because nobody’s playing it. It’s not real. All real you can hear is.. my voice.." You leaned it closer to wrap your arms around the upper part of Siebren’s torso, giving a moment to pull your hands down his arms, slightly patting his shoulders, before holding him as closer as possible. "I’m a real person, and I will always be one, and I want to help you."

It didn’t take long until you heard only a couple of sobs, that he tried to hide as much as possible. "I don’t want to be a concept, that they put evil thoughts on, I don’t want that.. I’m a person, I work really hard, everyday", His eyes now were red, as he wiped his tears away, head lifting only for a split second. It’s almost like he didn’t want to show you, although you knew already that the scientist couldn’t control his emotions. “To this day, I see "Subject Sigma" written on the outside of the white walls I’m trapped in, right in front of my eyes, right here, in my sight.” not being able to even pace his words, he tripped over them and breathed, but continued, ”I see the same halls and sometimes there are people looking at me, taking notes, but nobody’s staying for long, and I want to scream, and I scream so they would let me out. A-and then I start hearing them, even though the glass is too thick to hear anything past it..”

Kuiper rose his eyes up to look in yours, and you thought - only for a moment - that in his gaze, you saw the metallic shackles that were holding him, the almost acidic, toxic orange color of the prison uniform he had to wear in the past. The white pillows. The white ceiling.

“Everyday, I’m not dead. There’s no end."

His face was red.

You close your eyes and listen, carefully, observing his tone changing, every note in his speech, like if his words were a melody themselves. You sensed, with both of your hands on his back, gentle motions of patting and grasping tighter, that his muscles were easing now, and his body was, in fact, calming down. That didn’t mean you could let your guard down too, though. You trusted him in everything, but you couldn’t trust him his own safety.

"I’m sorry."

You were confused now and completely off track. It’s not hard to look him in the eyes now, you have an excuse - why did he think of own guilt?

"I’m sorry, that.. You have to put up with me for so long. I don’t know why you’re still here, why you haven’t given up. I don’t want to trust anyone, but I can’t help wanting you to be here when I’m breaking down. It’s a.. new, unfamiliar experience.." Another wave of shake through Kuiper’s body, and his eyes were filled with tears again. Meanwhile, you were absolutely lost.

How much did he had to put up with everything alone?

"My whole life", sobbing and still trying to cover his face, Siebren didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. "I’ve been working and putting so much in scientific progress, hoping that I can deserve knowledge in the end, knowledge, that will open my eyes and gift me all that I need, but-"

"You lost everything."

By saying this, you made him lift his head to look at your face, and you were far from as peaceful as before now - you coudln’t listen to all this without showing emotion, because otherwise you’d be like everyone else. Like them.

"I know many people have tried to take you, gain control over your powers, used you to-", before you could finish your sentence, Siebren yelled in rage, rising on his knees to be higher than you and still looking you straight in the eyes,

"They tortured me for staying silent the whole time! They have no idea that this knowledge could destroy them, like it destroyed my sanity!"

His shout was ringing in your ears. And then the deadly silence.

You stared back for a couple of seconds, as he realized, what he just did to you.

Siebren’s eyes filled with desperate fear.

"Please, please, please don’t leave me please, I didn’t want to scare you, please, I didn’t mean to!" As soon as the panic came to his mind, the anomality came to twist the environment around you, turning off gravity for all physical objects. Lifting you both up in the air.

But you own fear was non-existent, fear of anything, especially..

"Siebren."

Your body, now floating in the air, connects with the man in front of you. Hand reaching his head, you pull him closer, so that your forehead and nose would touch his own nose and forehead, as if you were trying to connect your minds. Breathing out, you closed your eyes.

"I love you."

Your gliding in the air body stopped, as if an effect was suddenly put on a pause, and as soon as that happened, you felt his arms circling around you in response, your heads still touching.

"You could’ve had a normal life. Friends, perhaps spouse, kids, grandkids, family and seeing the world," Kuiper’s words could be heard in your conscience without him actually opening his mouth, "But you spent every day seeing me. Visiting me, helping me. Caring about me, comforting me when I had those flashbacks.. Your job isn’t to love me, y/n."

"I don’t want this to be my job, because it’s something more important than one. You’re more important than anything, and I do want to spend all my time with you, until I am stardust," You knew it would catch the scientist if you used one of his own metaphors, and it did - you sensed his surprise. "You never scare me. You never do anything for me to love you less."

It also caught him every time you said "love", which made Siebren’s breathing stop for a second, the man not believing his hearing, that someone could say that to him.

"There are plenty of people in this world, at least, on Earth, that are more than willing to offer you greater, different kind of love, and so many reasons to love them back."

Siebren wasn’t lying.

He was so deprived from this world, it was impossible for him to have any romantical feelings anymore. He was incapable.

Broken.

But that wasn’t a problem to you.

"It occurs to me that there are more than enough people, but see," you made a pause, only to lift the corners of your lips, "You’re my favorite one."

Feeling him almost freeze, you then were pulled in a tight hug in Siebren’s strong arms around you, and you didn’t recall feeling more safe in your life.

Everything was falling together.

"I don’t want to lose you, y/n. I thought you’d be in more danger around me, so I wouldn’t let you approach me at all, but I can assure you, that nothing will ever happen to you, as long as I am with you. I will learn to control myself for you, and your love.. To be worthy of it.."

"You’re worthy enough."

Your gazes meet, and you both see each other smiling so unbelievably happy, still violating all laws of gravity.

Together.

"I love you too, y/n."

________________________________________________________________

Once everything was cleaned up properly, and you shifted to a cozier room than a lab, Siebren, with a single command, disabled gravity for the area around you two, and you were quickly up again.

"Now, I know it would be very sudden to ask, but I want you to sing. I find your singing even more charming than the one that the universe sings to me."

Accepting the compliment with a quiet laugh, you sighed in return.

"Okay. This song is called Fix You.."

[circuscarnage]

Potion class panic.

Just a silly one-off fic featureing Sebek Zigvolt and Jack Howl. Thank you to @holyheaven for letting me use his idea.

Words: 1901.

Potions was one of most interesting classes at Night Raven Collage. It taught the students how to use items that they would not usually use in other settings, such as cauldrons and exotic ingredients. It also educated them on how to defend themselves without the use of their wands. It was remarkable what you could put into a tiny potion bottle. Divus had noted that a good magician always has a potion or two up their sleeve, 'just in case' anything were to happen.

In all honestly, they were quite handy. If you were defenceless and needed to run away from battle, just use a mist potion to distract your opponent as you made a safe escape. If you were facing a powerful enemy and were seconds away from death, you better hope you packed a healing elixir, otherwise... Well, you get the point.

The potion class for the first years was more tame, focusing on introducing the students slowly to the dangers of the magical liquids. Instead of throwing them into the deep end immediately, Crowley offered a calmer experience. Things really got exciting in the second year, but we are not here for that. 

Students were paired up in teams of two, preparing a special potion set out by Divus Crewel, the potions teacher. Don't let his love of fashion fool you. Even though he may not look it, he is one of the most powerful potion masters at Night Raven. The potion they were preparing today was a weak transmutation potion. Divus warned that any misdemeanours when making this would earn a detention, as well as a stern talking to from Mozus. As such, everyone was on their best behaviour. Sebek was practising his own work, using the scales of mermaids, unicorn blood, and the hair of a phoenix to create his elixir. It was almost complete, all he had to do next was to stir and let it simmer for a few minuets. In all honestly, he didn't know what to do once he created it. He had no need for this potion, he could cast a transformation spell himself. Perhaps he could gift it to Malleus? Would he enjoy such a gift? He was already powerful enough, giving him something as trivial as this would be considered nothing but a trinket. But maybe he would like the thought?

Sebek was too busy in his own thoughts to notice another student carrying a few too many bottles. They fumbled around between their fingers before eventually letting one slip, and sending it cascading towards the floor. It shattered upon impact, sending a marvellous crash throughout the entire classroom before it was engulfed in a thick pink smoke. It was utter chaos. No one could see and inch in front of their face. A chorus of coughing and confused cries could be heard as students tried to swat the smoke away, opening windows and using text books to clear the room. "Is everyone alright?" Divus called as he batted the pink mist away with his free hand.

Once the mist has dispersed, everyone looked around, eager to see whether or not it had any effect. Potions class could be disastrous if something went wrong. It could be as small as turning a desk into a piece of cake, or as big as accidentally summoning an almighty fire demon hell bent on destroying the entire school. Thanks, Floyd.

But as the students searched around the classroom, they were disappointed at the lack of change. Everything seemed to be in place. Every potion bottle was securely where it was left, and not a singe desk had been transmuted into a terrible beast. There was a calm silence that lay over the students, letting out breaths of relief as they settled once again. 

That was until the entire class had their attention drawn as the sound of another glass shattering filled the air. Simultaneously they turned in the direction of one student, who was standing next to a broken bottle filled with pink shimmery liquid, accompanied by a long and scaly crocodile tail. At first, Sebek was taken aback. He hadn't realised a crocodile had made its way into the school. He jumped back, surprised when he realised the tail was following him wherever he went. How did a crocodile even get in here? He turned himself around, trying to get a glimpse of the creature. But wherever he was facing, the crocodile seemed to be right behind. At this point, he seemed to have connected the dots. A mild panic started to build up in his chest, which seemed to affect the tail as well, as it started to flail wildly. Some students took the initiative to stand back, far away from the manic tail, while others attempted to stifle a laugh, amused by the tails antics.

With one wave of his hand Divus silenced the group of youngsters. His footsteps echoed through the room as he sauntered across the class, stopping to take a peek at the newly grown tail. It was quite the sight. Reminiscing that of a real reptile tail, it swished back and forth under his gaze. "How peculiar." He hummed. After a moment of inspecting it, he walked back over to his desk, where he took out an old purple book, carved with strange markings. He flipped through the pages before settling on one towards the middle. "Not to worry, I'll have an antidote ready later. You'll just have to wait it out until then."

The tail was going to be a challenge. Even though it only came down to the back of his knees, it was plenty powerful, and could cause some serious damage if he wasn't careful. He needed to get this sorted quickly. With this tail causing problems, he wouldn't be able to protect Malleus properly! Even the thought of not being there when Malleus needed him most was enough to send Sebek into a blind panic. His emotions also seemed to affect the tails behaviour, as it started to flail wildly again, knocking over several more potion bottles, sending them crashing towards the floor.

"Bad pub!" Divus called from the other side of the class as he stormed over. Sebek stood still, fearing that his behaviour would leave a bad mark on his record. When he eventually made his way over, Divus took Sebek by the collar as he lead him outside the classroom, treating him like a new puppy who had torn up his favourite cushion. "I advise you to stay out of trouble until I sort this out." With one hand on the door frame, and the other placed on his temple, Divus let out one final request before slamming the door in Sebeks face.

"Now, sit. And stay."

Sebek walked along the cobbled path of Night Raven, letting his tail swish lazily behind him. Ever since he left the classroom, it calmed down, no longer feeling the need to rampage among the potion bottles. Originally, he had planned to stay put like Divus told him to, but Crowley was patrolling the halls that day, and advised that he take a walk around the school to let off some steam. It seemed to be working.

He let out a small sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He sincerely hoped that Divus wouldn't be mad at him. Surely, he would understand it was an honest mistake. He also hoped the other students would forgive him, he didn't mean to cause a scene. With any luck, they would be able to continue the class without any more disruptions.

"The hell happened to you?" Jacks voice cut through Sebeks inner monologue, and drew his attention towards the Savanaclaw student sitting idly by himself on a nearby bench. The white wolf gestured to the newly grown tail, studying it intently. He had seen students with similar features, those being from the reptile family, ranging from lizard tails, snake like features, and even tortoise shells. However, he knew Sebek wasn't one of them. And seeing him with one was... weird, to say the least.

"There was an... accident." Sebek confessed before telling his friend what had transpired in the class before. The stress seemed to be getting to him, as when he explained all the horrors of having said tail, it started to swing again, smacking into whatever poor soul was walking past them. Jack grumbled as he watched Sebek try to get a grip on his own tail, flustered and fumbling around. It looked like a dog trying to chance its own tail, and failing miserably. Of all the students here, the savanaclaw ones were the ones most experienced with having extra limbs. Jack was reminded of his own tail, remembering how hard it was to control when he was younger. For some reason, that seemed to piss him off more.

"Christ, can you get a grip on that thing?" Jack called out, his hand instinctively gripping onto Sebeks new tail and keeping it in place. It was against the Savanaclaw rules to grab another students tail, but Sebek wasn't in Savanaclaw, and this situation was already getting out of hand. His tail seemed to become even more panicked as it squirmed under his tight hold. Sebek was no different, getting agitated by this fact. The new nerve endings in his tail seemed to scream at him, compelling him to fight back.

"H-hey!" Without thinking, Sebek grabbed onto Jacks already heightened tail, causing it to bush up even more. At first, Sebek had grabbed Jack's tail as a way to get back at him. An eye for an eye, or in this case, a tail for a tail. But as he met the others gaze, he could practically feel the atmosphere change around them. 

Canines bared, ears heightened, and eyes glaring with animistic ferocity, Jack seemed ready and raring to pounce at any given moment. "Let. Go." Jack barked as he stared Sebek down with frightening intensity. It didn't take much for Sebek to match Jack's bloodthirsty stare. He was already quite intimidating without even trying, now he looked like he could take down Malleus with a single glare. "You first." Both males seemed to be increasingly reluctant to back down first, each of them having individual pride that they were not willing to put aside. 

They stood there for a moment, glaring each other down, growls starting to emerge in their throats. It wasn't until the sound of someone clearing their own throat that they realised they weren't alone. Another student had stumbled upon the scene, and was trying to process what was happening. "Divus is looking for you, said something about an antidote?" As the student spoke, they couldn't help notice the strange situation they had walked upon. Their face furrowed in confusion as they let out a shaky question, "Is that a tail?"

Both men immediately let go of the other and straightened up, brushing off the remaining hostility that lingered in the air. Sebek coughed to clear any more awkwardness before speaking. "Thank you for reminding me, I had better be on my way." He turned back to Jack, having the courtesy to at least bid him a farewell. Jack only turned away and let out a small growl, still mad about having his tail grabbed. Sebek made a mental note to apologise for that later.

[vorish-egos]

Doctor Henrik Vor(ish) Schneeplestein

Contains: Soft/safe vore and G/T

11 pages long, 3,993 words.

Written by: ~Zharin~

        ______________________________

“How come doc called us here?” Chase stopped twirling his hat on his hand and hung his head over the support of his chair to look back at Marvin. The magician simply shrugged, remaining by the door.

“Who knows what he’s up to this time?” He sighed, “But if he doesn’t get back here soon then I’m gonna—” The door suddenly swung open, missing Marvin by a few whiskers, and Henrik von Schneeplestein came bustling in with an armful of notes and clipboards.

“Ah, Chase! You are here,” the German doctor greeted eagerly. “Have you avoided any vittle drinks for four hours?”

“Yep!” The ego sounded quite proud of himself. “I’m a little shaky, and my head hurts, but JJ really helped out. Man that dude’s tea is good.”

“Good, good, zhat I can fix. And Marvin—? Ah, zhere you are, silly. Vhy are you hiding behind ze door?” Marvin grumbled incoherently and stepped out of the shadows. Schneeplestein set his things on the counter and frequented a few cabinets, muttering under his breath before he finally grabbed what he was looking for and returned to the other two egos.

“I need some help vith my latest experiment,” the doctor explained. Chase sat up.

“What kind of experiment?” He tried to flip his hat back onto his head, but it missed completely and almost fell to the floor; it glowed green just above the tiles and floated back into its rightful place.

“Zhere is a medicine zhat I have been verking on,” Henrik began as Chase flashed Marvin a grateful glance, “It is called famotidine, vhich reduces ze amount of stomach acid zhat ze body releases. Theoretically, zhis drug enhanced vith a little tinkering of Ihr guter arzt can create a sort of temporary gastroparesis, vhich means zhat zhe stomach vould be inactive for un moment.”

“Okay… But what do you need us for?” Marvin prompted, “You usually just take medicines yourself and jot down your symptoms.” Henrik grinned.

“Not zhis time. You vill use your magic to shrink Chase down, and zhen he can gauge zhe effects of zhe medicine!” Chase tilted his head.

“How am I gonna do that, doc?” He asked haltingly.

“Simple; I vill be taking ze medicine and zhen svallowing you.” Both egos’ eyes widened.

“Whoa, wai-what!?”

“Schneep, you have a lot of good ideas and experiments… this is not one of them. When’s the last time you’ve slept?”

“It vill be perfectly fine!” The doctor insisted, “I vill be monitoring both of our stats, and if something goes wrong zhen you can just teleport him out!” Marvin opened his mouth, but he couldn’t grasp for any words. Instead, he tossed his head back with an exasperated sigh before looking over at Chase.

“Chase, you can say no if you don’t want to,” the magician reminded. Chase bit his lip.

“I-I know. But…” He stalled for a few seconds, adjusting his cap before looking at Henrik. “Doc, you know yer my best friend, and that I trust you with my life— I mean, you saved my life, so… I-I guess the least I could do is help ya.” He then smiled. “Even if it is a little… Eccentric, I’ll support you.”

“Fantastic, danke mein freund!” Schneeplestein clapped his hands together, beaming. “I’ll take ze medicine now— oh! And you need minor painkiller for ze headache, of course, of course…!” As the doctor fervently hunted for the required meds, Marvin crossed his arms and cast a sidelong glance at Chase.

“Why the hell did you agree to that? It’s an insane and dangerous test that could very well end horrifically.” Chase shrugged and gave the cat-lover a weak grin.

“What can I say? I have no sense of self-preservation.”

“Ah, zhere it is!” The doctor came hurrying back with a small dosage of Tylenol. As Chase accepted the medication and downed it, Henrik unscrewed the bottle of pills he’d collected earlier and swallowed down two of the little capsules.

“And now ve vait for an hour.“ 

And so they waited. Chase passed the time by playing on his phone, seeming completely unconcerned about the experiment he was about to partake in— Marvin, on the other hand, had taken Schneeplestein aside and spoke to him privately.

"Doctor, are you sure about this?” Marvin murmured as Henrik unwrapped a mint and plopped it onto his tongue.“I know you’re trying to push the boundaries, but this goes far beyond logic.”

“Bah! Marvin, you are a magician. Logic does not apply to magic.”

“Yes it does! Schneep, in every field or profession there are laws that you must abide by, rules made to NOT be broken— give me one reason that makes it okay to eat your best friend.”

“Technically it vould be ingesting, eating vould suggest zhat—”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I! Zhis is for science, and he vill be in good hands! I have specifically taken extra measures to ensure ze success. I have restrained myself from eating anything except for breakfast zhis morning, and I last had vater two hours ago. Vould I really risk Chase’s life if I did not think zhat he vould be okay?” Marvin quietly groaned and put his head in his hand.

“If this doesn’t… If-If Chase dies—”

“He von’t,” Henrik vowed, putting his hand over his heart, “Je promesse.” Marvin studied the doctor’s earnest solemn, and then he let out a sigh.

“As soon as the medicine starts wearing off…” He warned.

“You vill be notified.” The magician still looked reluctant, but he finally gave in and agreed to trust him. After they settled into an awkward silence, with only the stifled grunts and mantras of victory or defeat from Chase, it seemed like forever before Henrik’s watch suddenly beeped loudly. The doctor shared a look with the magician.

“It’s time.” Marvin took a deep breath.

“How small do you need him to be?” Henrik bit his lip and gave the thought a few seconds before he brought his hand up in front of his face.

“About… Zhis small?” He made a broad C with his thumb and index finger, using his dominant eye to peer through his fingers and gauge Marvin’s veiled reaction. He could only note a faint flicker of surprise behind the cat mask.

“Three inches? Are you sure you’ll be able to get him down?” He nodded.

“He has to be big enough to notify me from ze inside. It vill be a tight fit, but he’ll be fine." 

"He’ll be heavier than he looks.”

“Yes yes yes, density, packing of ze atoms together, I am vell aware.” Chase suddenly interrupted by clearing his throat.

“You guys ready?” He asked. Marvin regarded him with narrow eyes.

“Are you?" 

"Yeah!” The vlogger grinned from ear to ear. “Let’s do this!” Henrik chuckled, grateful for his optimism.

“Very well.” The magician held up his hands, which began to glow green as his eyes also turned viridescent. “Just hold still,” he advised, “You’ll feel a little dizzy…” But Chase was already starting to feel the effects. His energy plummeted as his eyelids drooped, and he let out a yawn as the world seemed to spin around him. He was losing altitude, and everything around him seemed taller and taller as he shrank down, at the others’ chests, then hips, then past the shins. His brain was dimly aware of the change in perspective, but it was hard to be consciously aware of his new size until everything slowly stopped spinning.

Chase slowly opened his eyes and let out the breath he’d been holding. The chair he had been slouched on moments before was like an empty living room, and the back towered over him like the wall of a third story house.

Nothing, however, could compare to when Chase turned his head and found himself only meeting four gargantuan pillars of cloth. His eyes slowly traveled up, coming across the vast expanses of the doctor’s white professional coat, and Marvin’s flowing cape and casual blue top, before he finally met their intimidating gazes. They were both looking down at him, one with fascinated eager, and the other with quiet apprehension.

“It verked!” Chase flinched under Henrik’s booming exclamation, covering his little ears.

“Not so loud!” Marvin hissed, “He’s much more fragile in this state. There’s a reason I don’t do this often.”

“Yes yes, and ze only time you have vas vhen Anti possessed you.” The doctor dismissed the other’s wary and approached Chase. Chase scooted back a little and craned his neck as he was shrouded in the doctor’s shadow, but to his dizzy relief Henrik made no move to grab him.

“How are you feeling, Brody?” Schneeplestein asked at a tolerable volume as he sank into a crouch; he rested his chin on the edge of the chair as he gave his tiny friend a smile. Chase huffed nervously, suddenly finding himself grinning.

“Uh… I-I’m fine doc! I-I guess.” The paternal ego slowly got up, and with only a second of hesitation he walked closer to Henrik. 

“Zhat is good,” Schneeplestein murmured warmly, “But ve better get started as soon as possible. Are you ready?” Chase swallowed nervously and nodded.

“Yep!” Henrik shifted back and placed his hand down beside the shrunken ego. Chase exhaled and stepped on, using one of the doctor’s cold fingers to haul himself up into his palm. When he’d stopped moving, Schneeplestein brought his hand to his chest and stood up. Chase went bug-eyed as the floor feel even further away from him, and he leaned against the doctor’s chest, hearing his heart boom right in his ears 

“You don’t have to watch if you are really against zhis.” Henrik turned to Marvin, but the magician shook his head.

“You wanted me here to make sure nothing goes wrong,” he pointed out dryly, “So don’t fuck up, or I’m telling Anti about the secret coffee collection you keep pretending to know nothing about.”

“Yes mama,” the doctor joked weakly.

“Oh, Marv!” Chase removed his hat and waved to get their attention. “Can you take this for me?” He called, “I don’t want it to get ruined!”

“Of course.” By simply making a fist, the hat flashed green and shot out of Chase’s hands, floating over to Marvin’s care. Chase let out a relieved sigh as he watched his precious snapback settle within the magician’s pocket, and he finally sat back and looked up at Schneep.

“I’m ready now, doc.” The doctor nodded.

“Alright.” Chase was escalated higher up, and then his bony platform stopped at Henrik’s chin. Chase giggled a little when the scruffy hairs brushed his arm, and he felt the doctor smile.

“Here ve go.” He parted his lips and opened his mouth, blasting Chase with a warm minty breeze. Chase stared on into the dark and humid cavern before him, and then he summoned his courage and carefully stepped forward. He placed his hand on the doctor’s tongue, grimacing when it sank beneath his touch with a slippery noise, and then he set about climbing his way in. When his back bumped against the top row of teeth, the jaw suddenly dropped even wider, making Chase yelp as he slid in faster than anticipated.

Henrik instinctively pushed his tongue up, halting Chase’s slip. He mumbled something that was indiscernible, but Chase pushed against the doctor’s palate and glanced over his shoulder.

“I’m fine!” He called. He felt the slimy muscle under his elbows and chest relax as he wriggled his hips over the rows of teeth, struggling to fit the rest of his body in; he got pretty close before it was hard to fidget any deeper in, and he could just barely feel the tip of one of his shoes against Schneeplestein’s hand.

Hoping he’d get the memo, Chase tapped his foot to signal for assistance. His surroundings shifted again, and the vlogger braced himself as the tongue momentarily extended to lap up his poking legs. He was pulled all the way in past the ivory walls, and then darkness shrouded him as the doctor closed his mouth.

Henrik was a little surprised by how full his mouth was, but it didn’t stop his determination to finish the experiment. His jaw muscles lightly worked as he shifted Chase around, rubbing his curled up form with his tongue and getting as much of the tiny dad covered in saliva. The mint he’d taken earlier had done its job well, not only making the experience for Chase a little more bearable, but also stimulating the saliva glands to make the trip down easier. Additionally, the shrunken ego’s faint taste was rather… Interesting. Beneath the scratchy cloth was a strange combination of sweet and salty, combined with the familiar flavour of that Japanese whiskey the vlogger guiltily loved. He made a mental note to jot that down with the rest of his entries.

When he was ready, he made a little grunting noise to warn Chase before he held his head up. Chase slid the few extra millimeters that he could before his head pressed against the back of the good doctor’s throat, and Henrik braced himself before swallowing. He immediately choked and swallowed again, a hard gulp lodging his subject only shoulders deep. A throat lozenge would have been a good item to invest in. Numbing the throat would have probably made it a little easier. Nevertheless, Schneeplestein was determined, and so he swallowed again, summoning his strength to push Chase deeper in. He felt a flutter of movement as his esophagus started to pull the vlogger even deeper, drawing in his chest and adding more pressure to the doctor’s throat. Henrik bit back another gag and replaced it with a stream of firm swallows, repeatedly telling himself to not throw up, no matter what—

When an arm suddenly bent awkwardly and jammed against his neck, Schneep choked and brought his hand to his throat. A quick analysis of the lump under his fingers told him that Chase had been twisted into an awkward position, one leg still stretched out on his tongue while the other was out against his cheek. Chase was squirming, trying to help move things along, but it only made Henrik’s mouth water even more as he tried to deal with the new obstruction.

“Chase…” He managed to croak. “L-legs…!” He felt the vlogger’s legs retract deeper into his mouth and fold against the hips, which were just outside of the doctor’s gullet. Henrik carefully rubbed his neck, trying to smooth out the painful bump near his jugular, before he finally felt the arm straighten out. With a quick swallow, he felt Chase slide a little behind his fingers, and Schneeplestein shivered a little at the surreal feeling. He gathered a little saliva and steadied himself, and then he roughly threw his head back and swallowed as hard as he could.

It was a shocking sensation to feel his trachea suddenly restricted even further as the rest of Chase was shoved down into his throat. He didn’t have the breath to choke as his esophagus stubbornly squeezed the heavy mass down, past the doctor’s fingers and down to his clavicle. Henrik took a ragged gasp of air as soon as his epiglottis was clear, and he waited with a pale and sweaty demeanor as he felt the descent carry on past his clavicle. Chase had stopped squirming now, staying still in a prime position as the esophagus continued to pulse and pull him down into the doctor’s depths.

Marvin was regarding Henrik’s gradually paling expression, which only grew more severe the further down Chase went. When the pressure remained behind his ribcage, Henrik could only put his hand on his diaphragm and weakly swallow, giving his subject the last push he needed. He shuddered as his best friend’s weight gradually adjusted, shifting from tightly strung in his chest to gathering in his abdomen. When the last of Brody was finally deposited into his stomach, Henrik gasped and almost staggered. Marvin was immediately at his side, gripping his shoulder to support the faint doctor.

“Did it work?” The magician asked. Schneeplestein breathed heavily, sinking into a crouch as he gripped his stomach. It felt heavy, but not in the overstuffed kind of way. Maybe it would have even felt kind of nice… If he didn’t know that his best friend was what filled him.

“Chase?” He waited for an answer. His heart was beating faster with each second that passed, and he was about to try again when he suddenly felt Chase move. He drew in a sharp and shuddery gasp as his stomach wall was gently pushed outward, a feathery touch against the layer of flesh between him and his hand. “Oh, Chase! Mein gott! Are you okay in zhere? Oh scheisse, ze timer!” Henrik shakily pulled away from Marvin and rose on wobbly legs. He staggered to his computer and leaned on the desk, his hand still resting over his midriff as the other frantically fumbled with the mouse. Once he had the clock ticking, he let out a sigh and put his head down against the cool surface and focused on just breathing. He could feel his own diaphragm as it heaved in and out, but feeling Chase shift around in addition was a factor that he had not anticipated. He thought it’d be much easier than this— but Schneeplestein hadn’t stopped to think how strange his body would find the experiment.

“… Doctor?” Marvin lay a hand on Henrik’s shoulder-blades. The doctor closed his eyes and swallowed, his raw throat recalling just how painful it’d been to get his friend down.

“He made it,” he answered hoarsely. The tension in Marvin’s shoulders visibly faded, and he let out a relieved sigh.

“Good… That took longer than I expected.” As he rubbed Schneeplestein’s back in an effort to calm him down, he brought his other arm to hook under the doctor’s and drag him up a little. “Come on, take a seat, you’ll feel better.” Henrik was almost completely limp by the time he slid into his chair. He hunched over with closed eyes, still breathing heavily from the ordeal he’d so enthusiastically pressed for.

“St-stethoscope…” The magician’s sharp eyes picked out the instrument from across the office, and with a swish of his hand the item whisked into his fingers’ grasp. He handed the tool to Schneeplestein, who’s own hands trembled as he fumbled to put the ear pieces in before he searched for the right spot on his abdomen with the other end.

“… And it’s kinda tight in here, but it’s really warm! Oh, and it was a little rough at first, but then once I got all the way down it was kind of like a water slide! … A tight, weird, grossly pulsating and dark water slide.” Henrik practically melted with relief.

“Chase! I can hear you now.”

“Oh, that’s great! I made it!” The doctor let out a breathless laugh.

“Yes, I can tell. How are you, nothing vas dislocated vas it?”

“No, I’m fine, are you? Yer breathing sounds a little hard.”

“I am fine as vell.” As his lungs gradually slowed down, Henrik found himself tracing Chase’s little figure with his thumb. It was a bit shocking to feel the shrunken ego the size of his fist, if not smaller. Was there a scientific way to recreate Marvin’s magic? Perhaps next time he could go for smaller, now that he knew the limits of his body. Perhaps he could enlist Robbie next time— would the zombie’s sluggish metabolism make for an even longer period of safe containment? Perhaps—

“May I, doctor?” Schneeplestein jolted out of his scientific brainstorming and nodded at Marvin.

“Ah, of-of course.” He handed the stethoscope back over. Marvin placed the ears in and lightly placed his hand where Henrik’s was, and it glowed faintly as he honed in on their friend’s location. The magician paused for a moment, and then he suddenly turned red as his countenance twisted into a confused smile.

“He’s-he’s talking about setting up a tea nook and using a hammock,” he snickered.

“Vhat!? No— Chase, zhis is not an air bnb!” Marvin laughed.

“He’s trying to barter for some tea now.” Henrik huffed.

“No, if I svallow anything else zhen zhat vill trigger my stomach, plus if I did drink tea zhen not only vould zhat be gross for him, it vould also ve very hot for his size and probably burn him—” The relief in tension was interrupted by the door flying open, and Jackie skid into the office.

“Doc, doc! I need yer—” The superhero stopped and blinked puzzledly at the scene before him. Marvin cleared his throat and stood, returning back to his stoic self.

“Yes, I do see what you mean, doctor.” He handed back the stethoscope. “But I don’t care how bad too much salt is for my heart, if I want to put soy sauce on my rice then I’ll add my damn soy sauce!” He snapped. Catching on, Henrik held his hands up in a placate gesture.

“Fine, don’t trust ze doctor zhat knows you are eating yourself to your grave!” Marvin rolled his eyes with another dramatic huff, and then he turned to Jackie.

“What’s the problem now?” Jackie blinked and shook his head.

“Uh, Rob-Robbie ran off with JJ’s hat, and, uh, he won’t give it back.”

“Oh.” Henrik folded his doctor coat more tightly around his middle, tensing to get up. “Vell, I’m sure he von’t destroy it, but perhaps—”

“Nope, yer busy.” Marvin pushed Schneeplestein right back into his chair. “You were just tellin’ me about all those files you have to pour through, remember?” The magician prompted. “Plus all of those hypotheses, and your… Latest patient…” Henrik faltered.

“But- but Robbie—”

“Will probably gladly trade me the hat back in exchange for something else.”

“Ah…” Henrik sighed and pointed to a drawer in the back. “He’d probably prefer von of ze flower crowns to a derby.” Jackie wasted no time bolting over and rummaging through the drawer.

“Got one!” He held up a lilac wreath as he dashed back to the door. “Come on Marv, let’s go!” Marvin yelped as the energetic superhuman grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the office.

“I’ll be back in a little bit doctor, just sit tight!” He managed to call out before magicking the doors shut behind them.

“Okay…” Schneeplestein sat back in his seat and scanned the empty room. He suddenly felt conscious about being the only visible person in the room, yet another lay in his own core… And he was keeping awfully still.

 He quickly placed the stethoscope back. “Chase?” Instead of a quippy reply or a bad punny joke, to his surprise, what answered him instead was a snore. Bewildered, Henrik peeked behind his jacket and placed his hand over his stomach. He could feel Chase curled up on his side, snuggled into his inactive organ as the snoring continued peacefully. Henrik let out a soft chuckle, running his thumb lightly over the vlogger’s flank.

“Guess zhat spell took more out of you zhan I thought.” He stifled a yawn of his own and looked up at the computer. “… Ve have plenty of time,” he decided quietly. He set the stethoscope beside his keyboard and took off his jacket. He kept his movements slow as he pulled his arm out of the sleeve, and then he rotated the clean white coat until it lay over him like a blanket. The doctor slumped back in his chair, keeping mindful about compressing his stomach as he closed his eyes and sighed. When he felt Chase shift a little, he smiled and let his hand rest over his faint figure.

“I can write my notes down later,” he mumbled to himself before soon slipping into a very much needed nap.

       ______________________________

[lokidokiliteratureclub]

Frostbitten (Chapter Three)

Y/N L/N is a child of a Jotun and an Asgardian. She spends her life hidden in the dungeons of Asgard, with no one to talk to other than one of the princes- a man who seems completely incapable of leaving her alone and entirely unable to give up on helping her. Y/N and Loki Odinson have always been inseparable, it seems- even when there is a cell wall, or a village, or an entire kingdom between them.

Even when he disappears, even when you run away, and even when his world falls apart; you are inseparable.

Previous Part

I’m gonna pretend that this didn’t take me way too long to write and I’m just gonna,, leave this here,,

This part of the story is mainly just exposition so that you have an idea of the baseline for the rest of the story. Romantic development starts very, very soon.

Tags are open! 

"If you were king, what would you do?"

Loki peers up from his book at the question, frowning sideways at you through a curtain of dark hair. His desire for the throne has always been evident, but he rarely ever talks about it. It always seemed like something he was.. afraid to mention. "What do you mean?”

"Oh, you know," you wave your hand dismissively, "how would you behave? What would you change”

He sweeps his hair behind his ears, and sighs. "Well, aside from an inevitable war or two, I'd, well, first I’d free you. Then, perhaps set up a system of trial- one that involves more than just the king, since we’ve seen how well that works out. I'd allow more children to study magic if they'd rather not partake in physical battle practices. Create a public library or two.” He shrugs. “I'd marry, probably have a child to pass the throne onto... You know, the very basics. Change the kingdom to focus less on glory and more on intelligence- wisdom. Strength is good short-term, but knowledge lasts forever."

You nod approvingly. "How very noble of you. I’d love to live under your reign.” That much is true. “But, really? No bragging? At all?" That part is a joke, mainly.

He grins, looking back down at his book. "You asked me what I'd do as a ruler, not as a man."

"My apologies. So, then, what would you do as yourself?"

"Everything I mentioned before, but I’d also create a very, very large statue of myself. Just as a constant reminder to Thor, since he never fails to remind me that because he is older he will inherit the throne.” He pauses. “Oh, and several very, very dramatic theatrical pieces. Community theatre would return in screaming colors.”

You snort. “There he is! There’s the Loki I know and love. Always one for drama.”

“What? As if you wouldn’t do the same.”

“I would.” You add, “but you know you’re allowed to exceed my expectations, right? You have full permission to be better than me.”

He scratches the spot just underneath his jaw with two fingers, turning the page of his book. “Why raise your expectations when I can drastically lower them and therefore have to work less to achieve appreciation?” 

Your eyes give a slight roll. “You’d better be glad there’s something keeping me from you right now. If I could, I’d snap your spine.”

Loki turns the page again, looking back up at you in between the motion. His grin flashes into a smirk. “I’d like to see you try.”

-

“What the hell?!” Thor bellows, stomping over to his brother and ripping him away from you by the shoulders. “You are not supposed to be here, brother!”

“Says who?” Loki retorts, feigning cluelessness. He takes a few heavy steps, his armor tight enough not to be shifting around, his boots soft enough to not make a sound on the hard ground. Unintentional mental rhyming. “Oh, my,” he gasps, lifting a hand to his mouth in shock, “did father explicitly tell you that I wasn’t to be here? That may be an issue. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to tell you, but you cut me-” he breaks off and releases a loud grunt of frustration. "You tricked me!”

“He’s the god of mischief,” you speak up, standing up and taking in the cool atmosphere. Bits of jagged ice prick at your bare feet, but for some reason they don’t hurt you. Your head feels lighter in the new environment. You feel more awake. More... at home. “You should expect that of him. He’ll never fail to disappoint you.”

Loki rolls his eyes but smiles faintly. “I think you all need to lower your expectations.”

“Why can’t Loki be here, anyway?” Asks Sif, her green eyes glassy in the cold. “What’s the issue with that? Why not him instead of I? The point of this affair was to prove our sense of diplomacy, wasn’t it? Thor came along to prove to Jotunheim that Asgard unequivocally cared about the reform. Why not two princes rather than one?”

Thor runs a troubled, angry hand through his shoulder-length hair. “I’m not sure, but father made himself clear. Besides, he’s a total pain in the-”

Suddenly, the Bifrost closes. There’s a whoosh of wind followed by an awful, earsplitting silence. The others in the group look at you, then their eyes shift to Thor, then Loki, then Sif. There is a notable absence of trusted adults in the area, and you feel the collective blood pressure of the group begin to rise.

“Where’s Arvid?” asks Sif stiffly. She slowly turns her head toward Loki, who stares confusedly back. “Loki,” she takes a stride toward him, her hand inching toward the hilt of her sword. “What did you do to him?”

Loki frowns, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’ve not touched him. If I killed every man I opposed, I'd never be able to get away with treason the way I need to, even though I’d love a chance to see him suffer.”

Thor starts pacing around the area, moving in heavy, quick steps. “Heimdall!” he shouts at the sky, voice echoing across the terrain. “Heimdall, open the Bifrost!”

You straighten your back and pull at your tattered clothing, shifting your gaze to a dark formation of pillars and spires behind you, some collapsed and some upright- about fifty steps away. It bears a bit of resemblance to Asgard’s palace, but it’s much smaller. It’s beaten down- unrepaired after a history of war. Loki told you about his father’s experiences here, about the casket that resided in Odin’s treasure room. That casket- that war was both the thing that ensured your creation and the thing that took your life away. You should not feel a sense of pride for Jotunheim, but for some strange reason, you feel the urge to protect it. Or, at least, let it die of old age rather than in the heat of battle.

“Are you alright?” whispers Loki, moving closer to you. You think that Sif hears, because her head turns toward the pair of you for a second too long. You don’t really care. “You look shaken.”

You don’t respond. A prickly, steady sense of fear travels through you, crawling up your spine and nesting in your chest. 

“Heimdall!” Thor shouts a final time, raising his fists at the sky, before slouching, defeated, in a fit of anger. “We’re stranded!” he announces. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Why did you bring me here?” you say in hardly an echo, turning your back to what remains of the Jotunheim palace and looking out at the group. “Whatever your reason is, I assume you’ll have to go through with your intentions, with or without him. I’d rather I find out now if you don’t mind.”

Thor stops pacing to stare you in the face and then starts to approach you, practically fuming. Your fight or flight reflexes start to kick in, but instead of reacting you stand your ground, keeping your face set, your pulse thrumming in your ears. “If you believe for a second that it’s within your rights to speak to me, you-”

“Brother, I hate to remind you, but we’re in her realm,” Loki states firmly, just before Thor reaches you. When he freezes, you calm a bit, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Besides, she’s a princess, now, is she not?”

I’m not Laufey’s daughter! You think, raising both eyebrows. The fear is joined by subtle exasperation.

Thor turns to tower over Loki, but despite being quite a bit smaller he doesn’t flinch. “Watch your words. Neither you nor her need to know of the plans, especially now that they may not be set in motion. Now that Arvid isn’t here to perform the-” he breaks off, groaning loudly. He raises his fists to the sky. “This is all going to Hel!”

“I read the plans, brother. And I still have many questions. So should you.” Loki steps forward and lets his arms hang at his sides, staring daggers into the blue eyes of the older prince. “Until someone explains why this ordeal is to take place in the first place despite the obvious inhumanity, I’d suggest you stop acting as though you’re in control. As if you know what the Allfather has planned.”

“Loki, you know not of what you speak,” offers Sif, her breath fogging in the cold air. “Give it time.”

He turns to her, his lips parting into a somehow-menacing smile. “I’m sorry, is this not a sufficiently appropriate time?” He lets the words ring out, and then scoffs. “No, then? Sif, the two of you need a magician, correct? Are you going to ask me next to sew her lips shut and heal the wounds? To drain the thought from her mind, the soul from her body?” he points to you, and you blink in horror at the thought, shoulders tensing. Loki did make a move to warn you about what might happen if you didn’t escape, but this just sounds... very un-Asgard like. 

It makes you think there’s something else going on. Odin is covering something up, or he’s scared. Maybe both. Your legs, weak from lack of use, begin to shake under your weight, and you try to steady yourself, pressure building.

What could an all-powerful being have to be afraid of? 

Unlike before, Loki seems to be completely unaware of your mental state at the very moment. “Would you like me to take Arvid’s place as the puppeteer?” You’re going to lash out. You’re going to lash out. You’re going to lash out. “Speaking for her, moving for her, breathing for-”

“What in the Allfather’s name is happening?!” You snap, balling your hands at your sides. You glare at Loki, despite your intent to remain calm, and it takes him aback. “Assume we’re stranded here, how about! Assume we’re stuck on this frozen ice-land, and Heimdall and Arvid have been killed by some unknown force of nature. We’re stuck in Jotunheim, not Asgard. I don’t believe the rest of you have any means of surviving here, so perhaps it’s a good idea to tell the one person who can possibly keep you alive what you’re here for!” 

“I don’t believe you’d be of much use-” Sif begins, scowling, but you cut her off.

“Was your intention to take over my body and use Laufey’s belief that I’m the heir to the throne in your favor? That’s what I’m gathering, and I hate to break it to you, My Lady, but if Arvid was meant for that job, and he’s gone, your best chances lie with me.” You glare harshly, and then, noticing the jagged ice stemming from around your feet, take a deep breath in and try to relax. It barely does anything. “I have no intentions of hurting any of you, despite what you might have forethought.”

Sif is offended, but firm. “Do you think that we’re feeble-minded enough to trust you with the throne? Your word means nothing. You’d have us all killed if you had the chance.”

You laugh, the last of your patience fading away. “Would you like to test that theory? I’ve plenty of methods to prove you wrong, and plenty more to prove you ri-”

“Asgardians?”

It’s a cold, rumbling voice from behind you, familiar and foreign at the same time. You turn toward the noise and lay eyes on several Jotun soldiers emerging from behind the large, jagged bits of rock and ice that sprout from the desolate ground. In the midst, a large, guarded Jotun glowers down at you and the others, looking amused and angered

Your aggravation fades and leaves only the prickly, paralyzing fear. The Jotun speaks again. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Did he hear you speaking earlier? He had to have heard Thor screaming for Heimdall. Did he hear you and Sif arguing? How much does he know?

You find yourself backing up, and you stop when you feel Loki’s hand, outstretched slightly, press against the covered surface of your back, gently steadying you. When you look at him, he seems to be at a loss for words. You can’t say you feel any differently.

Thor, who had spoken loudly and boldly just moments earlier, is silent and pale. Sif, stepping silently and shakily forward, is the first to speak.

“King Laufey,” she utters, doing her best not to display signs of despair, “while the circumstances of our visit could very much be better, we come to return a prisoner.” The last word is a threat toward you, a reminder that previous plans have been canceled. She is going to get rid of you.

The giant, his face lined with intricate, deeply marked lines, looks quizzically at her, then at you. “Small for a giant’s offspring. ” He speaks slowly. It sounds like an insult. You take in a deep breath, refusing to look away. “Twenty years of age.”

“We understand that you believe her to be your daughter,” starts Sif, but she breaks off suddenly, sounding as though the air has been pulled from her body.

"We bring your daughter here in a gesture of peace," Loki says, and you notice that at the same time Sif lost her breath, Loki curled his fist, as if he had been the one to stop her talking. She looks at him accusingly but doesn’t do anything else, probably terrified. "Asgard's rulers have come to the conclusion that our quarrels with this realm ended inefficiently. We'd like to take some time to organize a proper treaty."

Oh, he's good.

Laufey chuckles, amused. He doesn’t seem to notice Loki’s magic. "And three of you? What well-dressed expandables Asgard must have."

Loki smiles faintly, signaling to Sif. "This is Lady Sif, one of our fiercest warriors. This is my brother, Thor," he signals to Thor, who is still looking a bit flabbergasted, then to himself "and I am Loki. We two are the Odinsons."

That piques his interest. He steps forward, and the four Jotuns surrounding him follow his movement. "The princes?" Laufey turns his gaze back to you. "And you, child. You're my daughter?"

You freeze for a moment, waiting for someone to speak for you, but they don't. You clear your throat. Your voice only shakes a little when it comes forward. "I certainly don't believe there to be any other undersized Jotuns my age, dead or alive, that were taken during the battle. It's not a very popular title."

To your relief, the answer seems to satisfy him. "Then they've kept it from you?" Laufey stares down the princes, lingering on each of them for far too long. Thor looks as if he’s going to speak, but Loki’s fist clenches tighter, and his lips seal shut. "They have locked you up, kept you from the truth, and even now, they restrain you." The handcuffs, frozen but refusing to break, feel heavy on your wrists. "If you were to one day sit on my throne, I wonder, how would you have these men pay for their crimes against you?"

Sif is giving you a cold, silent warning stare, and Thor looks like he might pass out- he does not appear to be breathing. Loki, on the other hand, edges closer to you, growing calmer with each passing moment.

"Well," you say, staring straight ahead. "Lady Sif has had no part in these doings. She hardly ever went down to the dungeons. So, even though I'm certain she'd have me hung if she had the chance,” the soldier is holding her breath, frozen, “she's technically innocent. Her only crime is disrespect." You practically feel the surprise bouncing off of her, and then her face contorts into an expression of suspicion. Loki is controlling her ability to speak- she must think he’s controlling yours as well. "Thor was arrogant, bothersome, but like Sif, he has not tried to harm me. The two of them live in Odin's shadow. They have no knowledge of what to do aside from what he instructs."

Laufey doesn't move, he just shifts his eyes between them, thinking. You don’t dare wait for him to speak, practically tripping over your own tongue in haste for this conversation to be over.

"Loki is so kind that he’s hardly even Asgardian.." You look over at him, asking silently for permission to go more into detail. You don’t want to spill your lifelong secrets if he doesn’t approve. He glances back, holds your gaze for a moment, and then nods wistfully, looking toward the ground. You turn your eyes back to Laufey. "He snuck down to the dungeons. Taught me how to read, how to speak, how to go as many places as I could without leaving my cell. I'd have gone mad without him.”

“They’re all innocent?” He furrows a brow, frown deepening. He’s testing you. “You don’t wish to put them through an inch- a fraction of the pain they put you through? Not even for a moment?”

“You asked me what I’d do as a ruler,” you quote, trying not to smile when Loki’s eyes light up at the familiarity. It’s always a joy to know he remembers your conversations. “Not what I’d do as a man.”

He barely registers any physical reaction before speaking again.

“How amiable. Unfortunately for them, I’m not quite as generous.” Laufey’s red, beady eyes sweep the four of you a final time, and then he turns, beckoning the lot of you, plus the soldiers, after him. “I’d normally have them chained to the walls and beaten to sod. However, your kindness has inspired me.”

Guards move behind you, pushing the other three forward, quite forcefully. Sif breaks free of Loki’s spell and unsheaths her sword, swinging toward the giants, but one of the guards closest to her grabs hold of her wrist, and she drops the weapon before she gets a chance to strike, holding her wrist close to her chest and stumbling back with shock. Two Jotuns seize her by the shoulders and steer her back with the others. She struggles against them, and Thor, alarmed by the sight of the wound, moves to help her, but the giants swat him aside just as easily as they did her. Loki doesn’t bother fighting, resisting. He seems to already be thinking of a plan. He looks calm. He doesn’t look at you.

“I’ll leave them alive. They’ll live what time they have here in the dungeons. And as for you,” he turns around once more, and you freeze, watching the three Asgardians as they’re shoved toward a downward stairwell, leading into a lightless below. “You’ll join my other children in their quarters. They will be awaiting you.”

He walks out of the room, double doors closing loudly behind him.

Frostbitten Tags:

@natalia-rushman @what-inspirational-name@jessiejunebug@fandomdestroyer @a-new-schematic @iris-suoh @pandacookieowo @givememyskittlesback @awesomefandomsunited @itsanallygator @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fire-treasure-iii @strangerliaa @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @woohoney @itsanallygator

[stanislavpeace-blog]

Why does man leave reality

We understand that in reality people are confronted with various technologies and practices. We reveal internal forces, excluding the laws of society.

The world is you, the universe is your brain, and you create your reality personally, attract, promote any events, kill yourself, give meaning to things around, everything that is around has exploded from your head.

We regard any techniques and practices as the withdrawal of a person from himself, when he begins to engage in them, the same meditations, the person runs away from himself, it is easier for him to be in lower dimensions. Further I will explain why they are lower dimensions. It’s easier for a person to fall out of reality, to practice any kind of hypnotics, immersion, and so on, because he runs away from himself, lies to himself, it’s easier for him to live there, somewhere below, having any friends - higher me, mentors, anyone.

I studied the texts of immersion - these are standard texts of hypnosis, you do not have to separate out any regressive hypnosis, and so on, in essence it is the same thing. We take as a basis the technique of immersion in the text. I began to study it in stages. When a person visualizes different stairs, the same elevator, people think that they are going up, in fact not, people are going down, into lower dimensions. The lower dimensions are the same worlds, but from the perspective of plus and minus, with a negative charge, the worlds of dark, gray, at least someone we call them, for example demons. There are also possibilities of consciousness, when a person himself can create a demon, he himself can draw a larva from any world, and at least anything.

This is the idea of our channel, this is the idea that we speak and convey. If you believe that you have low energy, you have some kind of parasites, that is, two options, either you will create them yourself with your consciousness, or you yourself will attract them, you let them into yourself, that is, believe that low vibrations or something else. Therefore, we draw your attention to the fact that various psychics, magicians, sorcerers, shamans, they contribute to the fact that a person believes in any one particular model.

The same sleeper, for example, can tell a person that you have a larva there there, so many hertz, such a demon, and so on ... A person based on the fact that he trusts these people, or he’s all himself will create, or it will pull everything to itself, let it in. Everything is always taken from the head of a person from his capabilities, in simple terms, not in the words of practices or techniques, we all already perfectly understand that any diving, hypnotizing is the same dream.

I will give a simple example, the Kama Sutra - there are possibilities of the human body for some action and there are actions that are presented from a slightly different angle, the same thing, but it is only for sale. In the same way, any other practice of pseudo-spiritual development. The first factor is the person’s self-programming, that he is not spiritually developed or not developed at all, the same reality transference — the person’s ability to modulate his reality, reality transfer is called - Zeland’s reality transfer, that is, he is again sold to the person himself, he himself buys himself.

This is because a person runs away from himself, he does not want to answer for himself for his life, body and for what is around him, what he pulled created, created, and therefore people jump into various spiritual practices, techniques and centers . Often, they simply look for people who will be responsible for their lives. That is, I went to such and such a spiritual center, it got worse for me there, thus, they shift, for example, problems that they created for themselves.

But this is our ideology, this is our point of view, which is not unlike the point of view of hypnotists. That is, if you explain to them that when you read the texts, you plunge down, you plunge down a person, and you still believe him, this person works, finds the etheric bodies of other people, if he is really able to move his consciousness, if he really is a man, for example, or maybe it’s not a man at all, then in this way the etheric body of people goes simply down, this is a conveyor.

When I looked at this whole situation, where it came from, how it was modeled, representatives of various dimensions simply explained to me that they all want to eat, they all want to eat and for them the soul is just like energy. I made the most usual message with the question, what lesson should I learn, what should I understand from the whole simulated situation. With people who are engaged in various techniques, hypnosis, chineling, meditation, they constantly jump out of reality, are downstairs, they feel good there, they drag people there, it’s useless to say that you already have it in your head, that you don’t need anything at all.

I believe that people who sell any technique or practice, teach something, are not completely conscientious, because they sell people their own capabilities, or concentrate their attention at one point, saying that they need it. I live breathing and thinking, but, for example, without some meditation, I find myself doing it wrong. They find ways where it’s subconscious to push a person, because it’s easier for people not to see their reflection, to go somewhere in the light, somewhere in the light forces, while you also feed, you are still able to create them and in general they should ask how they live, and not you.

I don’t touch the classics of the genre - communication with souls, the souls of great people, the concepts of the astral plane, these are all wanderings in the astral plane, these are the most common dives into lower dimensions. We often say to many people that when you turn to some of the same cleansing, it's all a matter of self-hypnosis. Each person is able to cleanse himself, this is the transfer of responsibility to other people, when a person thinks, yeah, they cleaned me up, I don’t need anything else in my life, this is self-hypnosis again.

They themselves created some kind of problems or these problems were imposed on you from outside, and then they themselves removed. These are human capabilities. And a lot of the information that we voice and speak really people understand. They understand that they always knew this, but it was easier for them not to think about it, not to look in their reflection, not to accept themselves, not to be their own god, their own guru, and so on.

The conclusion that I made while studying various spiritual centers, techniques, practices, representatives of hypnosis and chineling, meditation, is based on the fact that they initially lacked love, that same attention, honesty with themselves, so they left this reality, somewhere crawling down below, under various pseudo names, nicknames, names of their centers, in this way attract people, attract their attention, feed on their love. On the one hand, this is parasitism.

Talking with these people, the representatives whom I have listed is very difficult, it's like talking to zombies, you can imagine how to revive a person. Therefore, we thought, consulted inside the project, and decided that we would develop something, some kind of shock therapy, after which people whose brain was knocked out would be driven back. Trainees who are in their own hypnosis created this hypnosis themselves, and they float somewhere.

Using the information that we can transmit, they will also be on the rails of life. Perhaps this will be a specific package of information. Perhaps this will be a list of certain consecutive lessons while we think about how to do this to shake the minds of especially trainees, who firmly sit in various techniques and practices, who firmly sit in spiritual centers, so that people stop spending their personal time watching any then the video, in search of certain information that is always embedded inside, learned to work with those tools, their unique codes that are stored in them.

And they stopped giving out their potential. We think about it, I won’t be able to say how it will look right now, because everything is always individual, there is nothing collective, I hope that something will come of it.  

People live and enjoy life. Travel, meet sunsets and sunrises. Raise children. Show all the beauty of the earth. Be kind and attentive. This is your spiritual development. Thank.

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[plutoandpolaris]

Walk the Line Chapter 1: The Price I Pay

Summary: Jackie has been missing for almost as long as Schneep had, and Marvin is beginning to get desperate. He turns to unsavory means to find answers and in the process, finds that the truth is much worse than anything they could have imagined.

Warnings: blood, strong language (minor) injury.

-

Marvin’s dreams had never been wrong.

They’d never been clear or easy to understand either, but from the day of his creation his dreams had always come true in one way or another.

Darkness. A sky black as pitch, overlooking a steep stone cliff. The rock is a dark, muddy red, dotted with trees so white they resemble skeletal hands reaching from the earth. A lone figure stands on the cliff side, his clothes torn and dappled with stains as red as the world around him.

Scars and wounds dapple his stark white skin, his eyes hollow and cold.

“Stay away,” he whispers hoarsely, the sound a booming metronome in Marvin’s ears. “Leave me.”

“Jackie?!” Marvin calls, sprinting desperately to close the distance.

His brother doesn't look at him, instead gazing past him in a glassy thousand yard stare. Marvin reaches him then, gripping his shoulders, eyes pleading. He doesn't respond.

“What has he done to you?!”

Once again, no answer. Marvin envelops his brother in a crushing hug, only to realize that, to his horror, Jackie is dissolving. His skin turns an ashy black, dissipating into black smoke blown over the ravine by the warm wind.

Marvin curls into himself, dropping to his knees as the last vestiges of ash and smoke blow from his fingers.

Jackie is gone.

Every day, the dreams continued. Many were identical, some with slight differences that nevertheless ended in the same result.

But recently, the dream had changed again.

The cliff side was now empty.

And so Marvin continued his near manic search for Jackie, for the titular cliff that had plagued his nightmares for months. His brothers thought he'd gone completely insane, but there was nothing they could do. Marvin was far past the point of listening to reason.

He'd scoured every map and travel site he could get his hands on, searching for somewhere, anywhere, that matched the cliff in his dreams. Nothing.

He even got the point of bothering professional geographers about it, but he was constantly faced with the same answer. There's no place on earth with trees like that. With a sky as crisp and smooth as black marble.

It's fantasy.

However, as it turned out, fantasy is Marvin’s specialty.

He’d given up searching for this place on earth and turned to his second option: Anti had taken Jackie to some kind of parallel dimension, as was the case with Henrik’s abduction nearly a year before. But still, nothing. He'd personally scanned every single alternate dimension in his records, everything turning up empty. His brothers began to bring up the possibility that the cliff doesn't exist, that it was just a dream, but he wouldn't hear it.

It had to be out there.

It had to be.

And that was how he found himself in Dark’s office.

“Truth be told, you are the last person I’d expect to ask me for help.”

Dark leaned back in his chair, hands folded, slight amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I’m out of options,” Marvin muttered, rummaging through his bag for his notes, documentation of every single cliff dream he’d had since Jackie went missing. He could vaguely hear Dark muttering under his breath. “The fool who goes knocking on the devil’s door usually is.”

Marvin placed the folder on the table, spreading out the papers in order.

“Anti has taken Jackie, and I know for a fact that wherever he’s taken him has been showing up in my dreams. I need to know where it is, and an attainable method of getting me there that won't kill me.”

Marvin’s tone is sharp, calm with a roiling undertone of rage. Not at Dark, but more at himself for the level he’s stooped to. But still, he knows he has to keep his request concise and without room for interpretation, because if you give a demon an inch they’ll take a mile.

Dark’s eyes dart over the papers, a small flicker of surprise surfacing on his face before being immediately buried.

“Those are the terms?”

“Yes.”

Dark’s aura flares for a moment, the light casting multicolored shadows on the walls.

“Usually these sorts of deals are sealed in blood, but considering the unique circumstances, I’m taking this on your word.”

He leans in, eyes filling with darkness, aura thrashing wildly in the darkness.

“But trust me, I will know if you try to weasel your way out of this. I always know.”

Marvin nods hastedly as Dark settles back into his chair, the darkness in his eyes receding just as quickly as it had arrived.

“But I’m sure you’d never go back on a deal, would you Marvin?”

Marvin shakes his head and Dark nods, looking over the papers once again.

“So what’s the price? My mortal soul? My limbs? My sanity?”

A smile tugs at Dark’s eyes, but his face remains stoic.

“No. While you're close, I have no use for anything of yours.”

Dark stood, pulling a covered jar off of the shelf on the far wall, placing it on the desk before him. He pulled the covering off, revealing a small glowing light about the size of a fingernail. It seemed to pulse with energy, although dimly.

A human soul, but not a whole one.

“What a need from you is a small portion of Sean Mcloughlin’s soul, exactly one percent. I'm sure that number means something to you.”

One percent. Each and every one of Jack’s egos contain exactly one percent of his soul. It's the engine, the source that gave them all life. Dark was asking for the equivalent of one of their lives.

A life for a life.

Horror washed over him, slowly then all at once. He’d been prepared to give up his own life, which he would have willingly done for any one of his brothers, but this? Taking a piece of his creator’s soul by force? Sure, it wouldn't kill him. Not even close. He’d lost five pieces to create all of them, and some others had lost much more. Marvin’s not even sure how Mark still survives with that many pieces of his soul missing.

But the very act of taking it without his permission is what made it so horrible.

What made it a worthy price for what Marvin was asking for.

Dark was testing him. Testing how much he’d be willing to sacrifice for the sake of his brothers.

Marvin only hoped that Jack would be able to forgive him.

“Done.”

Dark pressed a small piece of parchment into his hands, folded into a neat little square.

“Contained on this parchment is the spell you will need to extract the soul fragment. I'd be careful to read it correctly, lest you cause Mcloughlin unnecessary harm.”

Marvin unfolded the paper carefully, eyes darting over the swooping cursive print. A standard Latin incantation, at least at first glance.

Dark noticed his distracted gaze, sliding a small jar across the table to knock him out of his stupor. The glass was carved with symbols, most likely daemotic.

“Use this to keep the soul shard contained. I expect the payment on my desk by 7:00 pm tonight. Don’t be late.”

-

I can't do it.

Marvin stood over Jack’s bedside, gaze locked onto his ashen, comatose face. This was a violation of the utmost degree, a crime that no one in their right mind would ever forgive him for.

But if I don't, we might never see Jackie ever again.

His hands trembled as they held the parchment, throat closing as the dark letters began to blur.

I can't.

But I have to.

And so the magician began to read. The words were easy enough, he'd read and studied enough Latin to know the words, but the weight of the them almost made him stumble.

As he read the area around Jack’s bedside began to glow a sickening black, the smoke writhing like a living, breathing creature.

It sat poised over Jack’s chest, pausing for a moment, before diving in with enough force to cause the bed springs to creak and the walls to shudder.

Most magic Marvin dealt with was methodical and slow, taking a practiced hand and lots of patience. This magic was no such thing.

It was angry, quick and violent, striking fast and with no warning, so maddened that Marvin could barely keep a hold on it.

The smoke had pulled back up from Jack’s chest, holding with it a volleyball sized sphere of light.

However, even when the dark magic dissipated, the soul still pulsed deeply with darkness. The color was wrong, tinged a deep, bloody red around the edges, black smoke nestled deep within.

A realization hit Marvin so hard he nearly lost his concentration.

Corruption. The final stages of Night Sickness.

But there's no external signs. His skin isn't blackened, he hasn't been coughing up blood or showing signs of a decreased heart rate. How do you corrupt someone this completely with no external symptoms?

Marvin could faintly see five grooves in the surface of the soul, holes, about the size of a fingernail each, one for him and each of his brothers. Another piece began to break off, slowly, pulling against the seething corruption trying to keep the soul intact.

Eventually it failed, the small piece breaking off with a sound like the cracking of broken glass. Discomfort and terror pooled in the pit of Marvin’s stomach as the implications of his actions began to set in again, but he cast them aside, guiding the soul shard into the container Dark had given him. It settled at the bottom, glowing faintly.

How something with no face could seem to be glowering at him, Marvin had no idea.

Without anything keeping it afloat, Jack’s soul began to dissipate, seeping back into him until the ethereal light that bathed the small hospital room faded back into darkness.

The deed was done.

-

The walk to deliver his payment was a long and slow one, the warmth of the jar an unpleasant reminder of what he’d done.

The soul shard itself was still slightly red tinged and corrupted, settling down at the bottom of the jar rather than floating around like the one Dark had shown him. It seemed so pitiful there, drifting listlessly like a wounded animal.

Dark seemed almost surprised when the jar was placed on his desk, but he quickly cast the sudden shock aside. He opened the jar, peering inside at the soul with a slight air of disgust.

“It seems the little parasite really does corrupt everything he touches.”

After a few more seconds of contemplation Dark sighed, replacing the lid and placing the jar under his desk.

“You've fulfilled your end of the bargain, so I suppose I must fulfill mine. I've done some research, and I know where Anti’s taken your brother.”

Dark turned, pulling a huge paper scroll from the top of the bookshelf behind him. It reeked of age and dust, filling the entire desk as it was unrolled.

A map. A very old one too, written in Daemotic, the historic language of demonkind. While Marvin was familiar with speaking the language, reading it was another story. The characters were alien and strange, pulsing with a power more ancient than any mortal could comprehend.

“Anti’s gotten bolder, it seems. Suicidally bold. He's taken Jackie to Iéfernann, what you'd call Hell or the Underworld.”

“What?!”

Iéfernann? Sure, Marvin had heard of it, it was mentioned many times in his magic books, although there it was usually referred to as the ‘Land Beneath the Curve.’ Humans weren't even supposed to be able to go there, and those that did barely survived more than a few days. It's a land of nightmares, the source of all demonic magic.

“Did I misspeak? Anti has indeed taken him to Hell, if your dreams are to be believed. The cliffs you described are very common, so I have no way of finding the exact ones depicted, but I can tell you that your brother is most likely a dead man.”

Dark lifted his eyes from the map for a moment, settling back into his seat.

“I’ll give you some advice for free: give it up. He's done for.”

Done for? Marvin refused to believe it, even as a settling feeling of dread began to pool in his chest.

Jackie's too strong to go down that easily.

��You're forgetting one part of our deal, demon. How do I get there?”

The look of confusion on Dark’s face was the most emotion Marvin had seen from him all day.

“So the rumors are true, you all really do have a death wish.” Dark sighed, turning in his office chair to grab for another of the trinkets from his bookshelf, setting it down on the desk. “So be it then.”

“What you have before you is an Ostium, your ticket to a painful death.”

It was a sphere about the side of a baseball, clear as glass with a complicated spider web-like metal structure inside. In the center was a second sphere, smaller, that glittered like porcelain in the office’s dim light.

“I haven't calibrated this in centuries, so there's no way of knowing where it'll spit you out. But it's the only way to traverse beneath the curve. Carved into the cover is the incantation you'll need to activate it.”

Marvin turned the sphere over in his palm, studying the daemotic phrases carved into the clear marble coating.

“Don't let anyone get ahold of this, you hear me? There's a reason ostiums are the only way to travel between realms. I’m not even certain how Anti got ahold of one.” Dark’s eyes narrowed as he studied the sphere in Marvin’s hands.

“There are demons in Iéfernann who would do anything to have an ostium. Demons who have spent their entire immortal lives searching for one. They will stop at nothing to get it from you if they know you possess it.”

Holding the heavy charm in his hands, a seed of doubt began to burrow itself into Marvin’s mind. How the hell was he going to explain this to his brothers?

-

Truth be told, they didn't take it well.

“Are you completely out of your mind?!”

Schneeplestien was pacing the living room, brows deeply furrowed in frustration.

JJ and Chase sat on the couch, and while they hadn’t voiced any opinion yet, the look on their faces made it clear that they shared Schneep’s sentiments.

“No, I am not! I’ve spent months trying to find Jackie and I’ve finally done it!”

Marvin stood behind the couch, watching Schneep as his pacing became more and more erratic. Eventually the other man stopped, his eyes darkened by an exhaustion so palpable that even Marvin could feel it.

“Marvin, I know you want to find Jackie. We all do. But there is no such thing as Hell or the underworld or whatever you want to call it. We should be looking for Jackie practically instead of chasing fantasy stories.”

JJ nodded his acknowledgment, but Chase stayed silent, his gaze fixed somewhere out the window.

“Everything in our world is fantasy, Schneep. We’re fantasy. We’re beings created from imagination and powered by soul magic for fuck’s sake, what’s more fantasy than that?” Marvin pulled the ostium from his pocket, running clammy fingers over the intricate carvings.

“We have to try. We’re nothing without Jackie, he was the glue that held us together. We can’t continue on like this.”

Chase nodded, watching the ostium with new invested interest. “I’m with Marv on this one. Anti’s a demon, who’s the say there isn’t a hell? If there isn’t, where’d Anti come from? D’you think he just popped out of the ground like a zombie or something? One thing’s for sure, he’s not like us.”

Chase was right. Marvin had tried many times to manipulate Anti’s soul shard under the assumption he was like them, a part of Jack. But he had learned very quickly that this was impossible. Anti had no soul. He was another being, formed from powers they had no way of understanding.

“But-“ Schneep groaned in frustration, sitting down in the armchair with more force than was strictly necessary. “Do you realize how dangerous this is? We can barely handle one demon, Marvin. How in heaven and earth do you expect to handle whatever’s down there? You say we can’t go on without Jackie, but I can assure you that we cannot live without you either.” Schneep’s words stopped Marvin short. Of course he’d thought of the dangers. Going to rescue Jackie would involve walking right into enemy territory. So far it had been Anti playing on their turf, but now they were walking into his. But he couldn’t back down now.

We have to try.” Marvin reiterates, voice firm. He had made up his mind.

There was a long pause, the silence deafening, before Chase spoke.

“Well you're sure as hell not going alone. Schneep has to take care of Jack and Jamie’s too inexperienced. You’ll have to take me.”

Marvin opened his mouth to argue but soon realized he was right. Schneep had medical experience yes, but he was needed at home, and Marvin wouldn’t send little Jamie into a mission this dangerous even if he was the last man on earth. Chase was the only option.

“But-“, JJ raised his hands to speak, both noticeably trembling. “What if neither of you return? What will we do then?”

Try as he might, Marvin didn’t have an answer.

-

Its finally here guys, took me long enough. I have a lot of plans for this series, it just might take me awhile. I hope you all will join me for the journey.

[Taglist]

@egopocalypse @shadowsonthemoon @epicfangirl01 @kitnkas @mijako98 @anothermarkiplierfan @iris-the-asparagus @bunchofdoodlesinspace @the-chemist @a-septic-writer-of-art @cutewarmachine @senseless-septic-shambles

If you want to be added or taken off, just let me know.

[skylanders-after-the-end]

Undying

Many, many years ago. Hundreds of years ago. The Skylanders have protected their world for centuries, but there have always been other gifted heroes that vowed to fight for their home alongside them. Some of them were mythical sorcerers who supported and fought for others like them. Legends say that one of them was one of the most powerful magic casters in history, but that tale has been long forgotten and is nothing but history now. Back then however, they received attention from all across Skylands, including unwanted one.

“How much longer till we get there, Ace?” An annoyed spellpunk, wearing the signature mint green and sky-blue colors of his team, exclaimed while steering his airship. “We’ve been flying for hours now!”

“Patience, Zion.” An elven sorcerer gave his companion a stern look. He wore a coat with long sleeves and held a staff with a glowing eye on top of it in his right hand. He stared at the endless sky as clouds were passing them by. “This might be the first hideout where Malefor won’t find us, it will be worth the efforts.”

Another figure in green and blue clothing emerged from the door that leads inside the small ship. A sorceress that always had her nose and the glasses sitting on it stuck in a book. She had her striking red hair tied into a bun and walked across the deck while effortlessly evading all the objects in her path without looking up from her book for a second. “According to this page right here, there is a spell that’s able to prevent our magic from spreading across Skylands and signaling Malefor’s minions, without ridding us of them.”

“Perfect! Good job Raven.” The elf gave her a brief look before thoughtfully looking into the distance again. “We can only hope that that wicked creature will give in and leave us in peace.”

“By now we know the real reason why he’s after us.” Zion groaned before turning his head left and right looking for something. “Speaking of which, where is she?”

“She’s searching for some potion that could apparently help us stay hidden. For once she can’t do something with her own magic.” Raven whispered the last sentence to herself whilst turning the page in her heavy book.

Ace remained quiet, tightly holding his staff as he was looking for nearby islands. “We should arrive soon. I’ll go get her.”

As the magician was about to enter the ship’s hold, the person they were referring to finally appeared. “Did you miss me already?” The joking sorceress stepped out of the door that her ally exited a minute ago. She was wearing a pale blue dress that almost reached the ground, with buttons closing the vest of the top part and round, pillowed shoulder pads on top of it. Her raven black hair flowed in the wind and she smiled as she saw her friends. “Are we arriving soon?”

“Hex!” Ace smiled back for the first time during their tedious trip. “You’ve been down there forever, I already thought you fell through the floor.”

“Now that would be a pretty ridiculous way to go off after everything we’ve been through.” Hex was referring to all the times the crew has been ambushed by Malefor and his minions and almost paid with their lives. “And besides, I recently discovered how to levitate.”

The sorceress proudly lifted herself a few inches off the ground using her magic. Raven didn’t bother to look at her trick and only rolled her eyes as she continued to read the next page.

“That’s great! Now if only we could figure out how to use that teleportation spell without losing our clothes.” Ace blushed in embarrassment after remembering one of the incidents of experimenting with different spells. “Anyway, we’re about to arrive. The couple we met seemed very friendly, but we have to stay alert.”

“There isn’t a single moment where I’m not alert.” Zion glared at Hex suspiciously while talking before directing his sight back to the front.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Hex approached her elven friend and watched the clouds drifting apart to reveal the town they’ve been invited to alongside him. “And if Malefor does find us, we will fend him off like we always do!”

When the travelling sorcerers finally arrived at the town they’ve been invited to, the first thing the team did was to create a magical barrier around it so they would be invisible for anyone outside of it. While the famed magicians were being introduced to the residents and their small town, Zion pulled Ace out of the crowd to have a discussion under four eyes.

“Are you sure we’ll be safe here?” The spellpunk sounded distressed, they’ve been on the run for so long that he forgot what it feels like to not worry. “The barrier is going to fade after some time and you know Malefor, he-”

“You need to calm down Zion, we will regenerate the barrier regularly and we’ll soon hinder our magic from attracting enemies as well.” The two looked over to the female members of their group as they were busy shaking hands and even hugging some of the inhabitants.

There was a tense silence before Zion decided to share his biggest fear. “We both know that he’s after her. As long as she’s with us-”

“We will not abandon Hex!” The elf raised his voice and glared at his companion with arched eyebrows. “She’s staying with us, you know what kind of powers she possesses. Without her we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

They looked at the smiling sorceress who just performed a small magic trick after the demand of a child. The spellpunk couldn’t let go of the idea that she would be the reason for their demise, he’s feared that ever since their endless run began.

Raven was observing Hex while she continued to impress the kids surrounding her with her magic. She couldn’t bear it. Hex has always been the one to receive all the fame and glory for her powers, while she wasn’t even granted a second look. She’s studied the craft her entire life to master it, but Hex was born with it, she didn’t need to do anything, yet she got everything. As envious as the sorceress was, she always managed to hide it with a smile.

“Raven, could you help me carry the furniture inside?” Zion interrupted the jealous stare of his ally, who turned around to see him attempting to carry a heavy wardrobe on his own.

“Of course, hold on!” She cast a quick spell to lift the wooden object into the air and move it telepathically. As usual, no one took notice and only kept their eyes on Hex. Another hit that Raven took and carried on.

Meanwhile Ace stayed behind and kept his sights on the powerful sorceress as well. Everyone considered him Hex’ biggest fan, but that’s only because he wanted to hide his true intentions. “I’ve been watching you long enough now. I don’t know when, but someday you’ll show who you really are.” The elf was talking to himself in a menacing tone. He strongly believed that Hex wasn’t who she seemed, and that this town would finally reveal her true nature. “And once that happens, I will be the one to stop you.” With a final long glare, the magician turned around and started carrying the team’s furniture inside their new home.

The next few months were relatively uneventful, considering the sorcerers were still being hunted by Malefor. They experienced some highs and lows, especially regarding Hex, but they remained a team and got to know each other better during their free time. Unfortunately, that peaceful lifestyle didn’t last, when one day one of Malefor’s most vicious minions discovered the island by accident and informed the king at once. It would be his most devastating ambush.

“Is everyone out of the houses?” Ace yelled through the smoke and flames that have engulfed the town. Malefor was out to destroy every last being he could find without any mercy.

“They’re all on the ships, we have to keep the enemies away from them at all cost!” Zion dodged an incoming orb from one of the undead creatures infiltrating their home while guiding the last few inhabitants to the airships.

Raven was busy fending off the approaching foes. People were panicking as the wicked creatures got closer, but the magician wouldn’t allow that. Always with a book in her hand, she recited one spell after the other, blasting and tossing enemies through the area.

Ace noticed an entire brigade of aggressive rhu-barbs entering the town, to which he positioned himself in front of them. The magic caster raised his staff above his head before it started to glow and slammed it onto the ground underneath his feet, unleashing a powerful energy wave towards the creatures to slow them down.

Meanwhile Hex was making sure that Malefor wouldn’t be able to harm any more innocent lives. She used her formidable skills to attack the dragon head on while avoiding his powerful blasts. It was an even battle, but the dragon was able to overpower her in the end, sending the sorceress flying across the roofs of the village.

“Hex!” Ace struggled to keep the undead forces at bay. He wanted to help his ally, but if he left his position, he would allow the enemies to reach the ships and kill everyone.

Zion and Raven teamed up to keep the aircrafts and the people inside safe, however without Hex, Malefor was able to reach them himself. The undead king charged up his fire breath and unleashed it at one of the ships. Agonizing screams came from the purple flames as the magicians watched the tragedy, completely paralyzed.

Malefor commanded his troops to retreat, he accomplished what he wanted. He glared over to Hex, who had tears forming in her eyes before she looked at Malefor with her icy blue pupils. “I think I’ve made myself clear. Keep running and more lives will pay the price.”

The dragon laughed sinisterly before spreading his wings and flapping them in one powerful movement to ascend and leave the town.

Hex’ anger overwhelmed her sadness, but that wasn’t the case for everyone else. People were crying and screaming as the ship was slowly devoured by the spectral flames, killing everyone on board. The trio of sorcerers gathered around the devastated people to apologize and comfort them after this terrible loss. Hex on the other hand hurried into their house.

The sorceress rushed into her room and before anything, she put both hands on top of her head and grabbed her hair. She had failed everyone, she could never forgive herself for this. Before she was about to burst into tears of frustration and disappointment, the sorceress opened her wardrobe. She picked up her unique headpiece, colored just like the rest of her pale blue outfit. It possessed flat horn shapes on each side, making the sorceress look more intimidating, but also keeping her black hair from bothering her during a fight. She equipped it before heading back down and leaving the building. Her friends noticed the fast-paced woman leaving their home and after a short thought went after her.

“Hex, where are you going?” Raven asked, which was the first time in days that the magician has said anything to Hex.

“I’m going to end this once and for all.” Hex gave them a brief look before leaving town, storming to the first entrance to the underworld that she could find.

It didn’t take Hex long to find a gloomy cave entrance, emitting a frosty purple smoke. The sorceress took a deep breath and gathered all her courage before entering it. This was it. This was the day where Malefor would pay for his sins and Hex’ life would change forever.

Centuries have passed, and now Hex was trapped in the underworld with the creature that has been tormenting her most of her life. She must spend her days down there guarding Malefor like a watchdog. Even though the Skylander has long stopped doing things out of enjoyment, there were countless things she would rather be doing than this. The giant dragon turned his head to give the witch a cold look with his striking yellow eyes before turning back around and looking for another island to stand on.

Hex had a good view from the highest tower of the Creepy Citadel. The ancient building was haunting, but in some way also enchanting. It was like a lonely castle for the sorceress, all the minions they used to fight here were either gone or fled at the sight of her. She started to wonder how much longer she would have to stay there. Did the Skylanders forget about her? She knew them well enough to determine that they would find another way to defeat Malefor eventually, but it’s taking them a while.

“Are you still waiting on them?” A deep voice echoed through the citadel. “You do realize that they left you here to rot, right?”

“I don’t want to hear your mind games Malefor.” Hex was unaffected by the repeated attempts to make her lower her guard so that the dragon could escape, but she did begin to wonder if he was right.

“They have more important things to do than looking for you.” The voice was circling Hex’ chamber as Malefor flew around the tower. “You’re not keeping me down here to protect them, you’re keeping me down here for your satisfaction. After what happened to you since our battle, I know how much you must blame me for your fate.” The dragon smiled as he kept teasing the witch. “You sacrificed your life to get rid of me and yet here I am.”

The Undead Skylander remained unfazed. She knew how manipulative the villain is, and if he can’t get into someone’s head with words, he will do it by force. But Malefor knew better than to attack Hex. He underestimated her before, and it costed him his life.

“Why did you become a Skylander in the first place?” A genuine question bothered the dragon. “I know best what those mortals think of us undead, they must hate you.”

That was something that Hex knew too well. Even though she never had any evil intentions and helped others, they always rejected her. Be it fear or even hate, almost everyone didn’t trust the witch.

“Enough Malefor. You need to accept that you will spend the rest of your days down here where you belong.” The sorceress sat onto the ancient bed in the middle of the circular room. Old decayed curtains were hanging from the canopy, like ghosts they were gently flowing with the wind coming from the small window.

“You need to accept that as well.” Malefor responded before flying off and leaving the witch alone.

Even though she was constantly by Malefor’s side, Hex has never felt this lonely. She has spent hundreds of years in solitude and yet being down in the cold dark underworld for months gave her the feeling that she would remain there forever.

After the long and exhausting fight with Malefor and the unfortunate transformation into an undead all those years ago, Hex finally returned from the underworld. She wasn’t sure how everyone would react to her new look and powers, and admittedly was nervous, but she wanted to assure them that Malefor was finally defeated and they had nothing to fear. Upon her arrival, a few of the civilians saw her and stared at her with shocked, almost frightened expressions. Hex was now constantly floating, leaving a trail of purple smoke underneath her. Many didn’t recognize the sorceress and were in a very cautious state. It wasn’t until her friends saw her when Hex realized that things would never be the same again.

“Hex? Is that you?” Ace looked at his ally from head to toe with his mouth open. He didn’t know what to say. “What happened to you?”

“I’m not sure myself.” Hex tried smiling to show them that she was still herself, but they all kept their baffled faces. “I went to the underworld and fought Malefor, but it looks like I’ve been transformed into an undead.”

Raven was the first one to ask about the dragon after spending some more moments eyeing her companion. “So, Malefor is defeated?”

“He is.” Hex turned around which caused the people behind her to back off. She didn’t want to scare anyone with her appearance, but she had to tell them that there was no reason to be afraid anymore. “Malefor is no more. There is nothing to fear, we are all safe now!”

No response. No cheering, no gratitude, nothing. Hex started to feel uncomfortable and wasn’t too fond of being in the middle of mute attention, so she floated past the crowd of people to get to her home. She wanted to find some way to transform herself back anyway, maybe that would fix everything.

The following days have been challenging for the witch. Instead of sharing the house with her friends, they insisted that she should get her own place. Even though it was already inhabited, the owners of a small cottage were quick to leave when they found out that Hex wanted to find a new home. Not out of hospitality, but out of fear. Whenever she tried to converse with or help someone, they would always just give her this blank frightened look and get away as fast as they could. The fact that she could now only work with dark magic such as summoning skulls and phantom orbs didn’t help. And on top of it all she was unable to find a way to undo her transformation, every book said that turning into an undead is irreversible. Meanwhile her alleged friends grew increasingly suspicious. Ace revealed that he’s been observing her for years and that he thought all along that there was something off. There was a remarkable increase in sickness and dying crops, and they were certain that it was Hex’ fault. The transformation leads them to believe that instead of killing Malefor, she made a deal with him. A deal that would grant her even greater powers so that none of them could match her. Those rumors spread through the town like wildfire and the fear they felt turned into anger and hate.

One night, when Hex tried to get some sleep even though she didn’t require it anymore, she could hear a bunch of voices in front of her house. Bright orange lights lit up her entire home through the windows and the witch went to the door to see what was going on. When she opened it, she was greeted by an unsettling sight.

“What’s going on here?” The entire town has assembled in front of Hex’ house, each of them holding torches and pitchforks and their faces warped angrily. Up front were her friends with their respective weapons and magic in their hands.

“We’ve spared you long enough, witch.” Ace gave her a deadly look as he tightened the grip around his staff. “Get her!”

Before she could respond, a couple of people rushed through Hex’ door and grabbed her hands before tying them behind her back. No matter with how much effort she tried to break free, she was outnumbered by the people she once considered friends. They lead her to a wooden pole set up in the middle of the town surrounded by hay and wood and tied her to it.

Hex was confused and scared. She didn’t understand why this was happening. “Why are you doing this? What did I do?”

“You claim that you’ve defeated Malefor, but we know better!” Zion finally spoke up. He used to be afraid of Hex because she led Malefor to them, but now he was just afraid of her.

“We know that you went to the underworld so he could transform you and increase your powers. There is no way you were able to defeat him in his own domain!” Seeing her completely helpless, Raven finally felt a sense of superiority towards Hex, which made her words sound more confident.

“We know what you really are. People are getting sick and the crops are dying. It’s only a matter of time until you have full control over your new powers and spread them like a plague to rule alongside Malefor.” Ace was so certain of his words that he felt no sympathy for Hex whose horrified eyes reflected the yellow light of the flames surrounding them. “Now it’s time to get rid of you monster.”

Without any hesitation, the elf used his staff to shoot a fireball at the stack of hay surrounding Hex, igniting it instantly. Hex stared at the spreading flames with fear as she tried to untie her hands without any success. The fire grew bigger and brighter and threatened to consume the sorceress. She began to cough from all the smoke the flames created. Hex looked around herself and only saw pleased faces, some even laughing. But the worst sight of all were the sickening smiles on her former friend’s faces. She couldn’t believe that it had come to this.

The flames have almost reached Hex’ dress and were about to set the witch on fire as well. As much as she tried to resist, the sorceress finally decided to use her powers and break free from the ropes keeping her to the pole. The residents became afraid again as they watched purple magic surround the witch and evaporate the ropes around her hands. Hex quickly floated up into the air and away from the fire and people. It didn’t take them a second to begin shouting in rage before running after her with their pitchforks and torches. Hex fled as swiftly as she could, away from the mob and away from her home. Before she exited the village, she turned around. She looked at all the outraged faces heading towards her. Knowing that no words would make them stop, Hex lifted her hand and created a bone wall between her and the inhabitants, making them unable to reach her. She gave her friends, who tried everything to tear the wall down, one last saddened look before turning her back and leaving them forever. This was the last time she saw her friends, and the last time she called anyone her friend until becoming a Skylander.

Now Hex had left her friends behind once more. In the past, she only resided in the gloomy underworld for a day, now it’s already been months. She decided to finally leave her chamber and float through the Creepy Citadel. The witch has seen almost every corner of the fortress now, but nevertheless there was something unsettlingly calming about it. Even the bravest of Skylanders would have to pull themselves together in fear of entering the place, but Hex never felt any of that. She’s isolated her feelings, as they could cause a loss of control over her powers and she couldn’t risk that.

Malefor was roaming around the place as well, plotting his next plans to flee, but none of them would work as long as Hex was there to stop him. “You know Hex, we would make a great team.” Malefor tried a different approach to get to the Skylander, something that even he hasn’t thought of before. “Our powers combined, no one would stand a chance.”

Hex didn’t say a word and just floated past the dragon as he kept his eyes on her. She didn’t even consider that option for a second, it would defeat all purpose of her sacrifice.

“What are you doing this for?” Malefor’s tone became angrier with every sentence he spoke. “Do you want to be a hero? Do you want revenge? What is it that you’re trying to achieve?”

“I want to keep you from hurting anyone else!” Hex finally stopped and answered the king. “Even if that means you’ll hurt me again.”

Malefor noticed the way she said that last sentence and smiled. He finally figured it out. “So, you feel hurt?” The wicked creature laughed through the emptiness of the place, much to Hex’ dismay. “The powerful Hex is sad that she’s lost her friends.”

“I’m over that, it’s about what you did to me!” Hex didn’t want to admit it, but there was a silent anger inside of her which has been growing over the centuries she’s spent saving ungrateful people that would thank her with baseless suspicions. “A witch, an undead, a villain. I’ve heard it all even though I have only ever done good.”

Malefor scoffed. He didn’t expect the Skylander to let the opinions of others get to her like that, but he was wrong. “By now you should know that you cannot trust anyone. They only know what they see, and if they don’t understand it, they fear it.” Malefor was one of the oldest beings in Skylands and he’s seen all of its sides. The good and the bad. “A piece of advice from someone with far more experience than you or any of your friends, don’t bother trying to make others see you the way you want them to see you, because they never will.”

With those words, the dragon took off and left. Surprisingly, Hex did think about what Malefor said. Why should she redeem herself when there was no reason for redemption to begin with? Hex realized what Malefor was trying to do and quickly forgot about it, even though it remained to be a lingering thought in the back of her head.