New Fic!!

Wirt and Greg learn magic: 1

~

After speaking the words of his first spell, Greg decides that he doesn’t like magic.

It’s a hard decision for him to make, because magic makes Wirt happier than almost anything else and Greg’s fairly sure that all the things that make his brother happy are good, but Greg doesn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. When he says the same words that he’s heard Wirt mumbling under his breath for the past few months something in his gut stirs with a feeling of wrong which makes his brain go fuzzy and scared until there are tears in the corners of his eyes.

Wirt doesn’t talk to him about magic after that. It makes Greg a little sad, because he worries that he’s ruined one of the only things that Wirt’s enjoyed since getting home, but he’s also very relieved. As long as Wirt keeps all of his magic away from him then maybe Greg won’t ever have to feel that awful feeling of wrong again and everything can go back to normal.

~

Things change a month or so later when Wirt asks him to read a spell.

“It’s different from the last one.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand he probably doesn’t realise still has sigils smudged across it, “I found it when I was looking into Auntie Whispers, not Adelaide, and when I read it I felt-” He shudders.

“Did it feel wrong? In your tummy?” asks Greg, so his brother doesn’t have to say it.

Wirt nods. He still looks worried even though he really shouldn’t and Greg takes the paper.

“You don’t have to!” says Wirt, panicked, “this was a bad idea, I shouldn’t have shown you this, I don’t want anything to-”

Greg starts to read.

He reads and instead of feeling something in him turn foul like he’d half expected, he feels… good.

As he speaks something that had been shaken out of place when he read that first spell slots back into place, something he didn’t even realise he’d been missing. He speaks the words and he likes the way they taste in his mouth and the way that as he says them he feels braver. He finishes reading and looks up at Wirt who’s smiling broader than Greg thinks he might have ever seen before.

“I’ve decided that I like magic.” Greg says with finality and it make Wirt smile even wider.

this is genuinely just me trying to be @shanastoryteller

From the very first time Adora transforms she feels a power sing through her and knows it will be there till the day she dies.

Then she realises that that might not be true, because maybe she can’t die any more. The concept of mortality seems small now. Something for lesser people, the ones she can squash under her heel like ants. Eternity doesn’t seem like such a long time with the power of the hidden stars that are as old as forever humming through her veins.

She wonders if she should mention any of this to her new friends, how even when she isn’t transformed she can feel the universe revolving around her. She thinks back to Catra turning away from her (because somehow somehow somehow Catra just knew). Instead she just hopes that the life she could spend with these people might last an eternity all on its own.

Nezuko wakes up shaking.

Is it really waking up if you were already conscious, just out of control? As she looks at her brother's bloody form it certainly feels like the first time she’s opened her eyes since arriving in the forest. But who can really be sure?

His throat has been torn out. His clothes have been ripped to shreds. Underneath the ragged strips of cloth there’s barely anything left of him. Just some bone, some gristle. The inedible parts. His face is almost entirely whole though. As tears fill her eyes Nezuko wonders if this is because something deep down stopped her from being able to destroy her brothers face, but she knows that the only reason that part of him was left untouched is that there isn’t that much flesh there.

His eyes are glassy and unseeing.

Dead.

“No,” she whispers, the magnitude of this atrocity finally settling on her shoulders. “No, no, no, no-“

Her refrain only stops once she jams her hand in her mouth. Her jaw keeps moving as if trying to continue the refusal to accept reality and soon her hand is bleeding from the places where her teeth sink into it. The taste of her own blood sends a disjointed euphoria shooting through Nezuko’s brain and she jerks her hand back in horror. Desperate to somehow scrub away what she just did she shovels snow into her mouth to wash away the taste. She keeps chewing on it, pain zapping through her teeth from the cold, until she can spit it out without a trace of pink in the puddle of drool and bile she creates.

She scrubs the blood from her face so desperately that the snow makes small cuts in her skin. Better to be covered in her own blood rather than her brother’s though.

The thought makes her look back towards Tanjiro’s body. Her tears finally begin to fall.

“I did that,” she admits, the salt of her tears stinging as it floods her cuts and scrapes. She kneels down next to Tanjiro’s body. He looks peaceful and Nezuko hates it. Hates the way it reminds her how kind he was. How he would have forgiven her for doing this without question. “I did this. And I won’t ever let it happen again. Not to anyone.”

The forest grows silent for a moment in acknowledgement of her vow. Or maybe in shock that a demon would commit to such a thing.

After she’s said her prayers over his body she carefully takes out Tanjiro’s earrings. Nezuko doesn’t have her ears pierced yet so she just forces the metal through her ear lobes and is surprised by the lack of pain.

All that’s left is to bury him.

~

Almost as soon as she’s finished heaving snow back on top of the grave dawn begins to break. Before the first rays of light can inch above the horizon a primal fear takes hold of Nezuko and she sprints for the nearest cover. A cave that she digs herself into, deep enough that the sunlight will never touch her with its poison. It’s before she even realises it’s what she’s doing that she falls unconscious and begins to dream of brothers and blood and hell.

Nezuko sleeps for a very long time.

the most iconic squad on the entire boiling isles, actually

the divine exists to be first sexualised and secondly cannibalised

Shazam, a supposedly magic immortal being of unknown origin: kinda pops off ngl

Batman, a father of 6: (narrows eyes in suspicion) yes…indeed it does..

“I would like to suggest a temporary truce.”

Luz has no idea how Hunter got in.

From the looks of bewilderment on Eda and Kings faces Luz is pretty sure that they’re in the same boat. The same very confused, very concerned boat that’s being tossed by the whims of the boiling sea.

Luz turns back to Hunter who’s looking at the three of them expectantly, waiting on a response.

“Hootyyyyyy,” Eda calls into the house. Hunter keeps just standing there and Luz pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming.

Then there’s an owl coming out of the floor. At least some things are normal.

“Hello!”

“How is he here?” Eda demands, “Why is he here?”

“To offer a truce? It’s a very good truce, and I said that I would recommend it, and what better way to recommend it than letting him tell you all about it himself!” Hooty pauses to check if anyone’s nodding in agreement of his clearly very sound decision making process. He’s met by a stony silence and expressions of particularly strong disapproval.

For once he seems to read the room.

“Okay, you guys have lots to talk about, bye!” His face shoves itself through the floorboards back the way it came and a hole is left in the floor between Eda, King and Luz and Hunter. Luz imagines the hole widening into a chasm, it feels more appropriate.

“As I said,” Hunter continues slowly, “I’m here to propose a truce.”

Eda scoffs. King growls. Luz glares.

“And what common ground could we possibly find to build a truce over?” Eda asks icily.

Hunter takes a breath. “I was hoping we might work together to kill Kikimora.”

Huh.

“Okay then,” Eda starts, voice full in equal measure of interest and surprise. “I’m listening.”

Selina & Talia

1 2 3

Selina quite likes this thing she’s had going on with Talia, it’s far better than whatever was happening with Bruce at least.

‘Stop stealing things’, ‘Move in with me’, ‘Don’t team up against me with the Sirens’ nag, nag, nag. That’s all it had been with Bruce. Talia actually understands the things Selina does and she couldn’t give less of a shit about them. Well, she sort of does. Selina imagines that if Talia saw her pull something as boring as your standard bank robbery she’d break up with her. That’s understandable though, Selina would break up with someone who would pull a job that unfashionable.

“Why do you keep leaving?” Selina asks, stretching as she looks over to Talia packing her bag. It’s an honest question.

“Some of us have jobs.” Talia replies, no heat behind it. She leans over and kisses Selina before shouldering the bag. She walks to the door but hesitates before turning the handle.

Selina freezes from where she was still stretching. Talia never hesitates.

“What if I work was not the reason I was leaving?”

“Then I’d be ashamed of myself for not having you caught you in a lie sooner.” Selina replies, keeping her tone casual despite the fact that this is probably the most serious conversation they’ve had to date. “I don’t suppose you’re cheating on me? Because I thought you had better taste than to do something so class-less.”

“I would never.” she declares. The severity of the statement doesn’t match the conversation’s previous tone and Selina realises quite suddenly that they aren’t trying to be light-hearted about this any more. “I’m going to bring someone next time we see each other.”

“Oh?”

Talia opens the door and for a moment Selina thinks she isn’t getting a reply. Then Talia turns back, looking at Selina with an expression that could mean absolutely anything. “I hope that the two of you will mean something to each other.” she says, before walking out and closing the door softly behind her.

Selina doesn’t move for a while after that, thinking about what might be coming. She hopes it won’t change things too much, her and Talia really do have something special.

~

A couple of weeks later Selina gets back to her apartment to find Talia inspecting the blueprint she had set out on the table and a boy, perhaps eight years old, playing quietly with a couple of Selina’s cats.

Talia looks up from the blueprints. She doesn’t smile like she usually does when Selina enters a room. “This is my son. Damian.” she declares.

The boy looks up and cocks his head to one side. A part of Selina’s brain that she isn’t paying much attention to right now decides that how similar the boy looks to Bruce probably isn’t a coincidence.

In an instant Selina’s hopes that her and Talia’s relationship could continue unchanged are dashed. But as she looks at the boy being oh so careful with her kittens, she thinks she might not mind such a change after all.

big fan of the genre that’s just “what if there was a fucked up city”