She Deserves The World

😍

Vengeance & Vanity

Part 4

Pairing: The Darkling x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Aleksander have established your place on the throne, and begun your search for the Firebird. Threats still linger on the horizon, and the two of you must plan ahead.

Word Count: 2.5K

My Masterlist

A cloud of dust hits your face, prompting yet another coughing fit.

“You’re doing this on purpose.” You remark through your weezing. Aleksander raises a brow at you, the corner of his lips twisting into a small grin.

“These books contain centuries worth of knowledge, it’s bound to be a little dusty. There’s no need for dramatics.”

“The poor Corporalnik that will have to restart my lungs might disagree.” You grumble, opening the cover of the offending book. Aleksander’s eyes twinkle with amusement as he sits down facing you. It’s rare to see such boyish charm on his face. The last few months have been difficult for you both. You have been slowly regaining your strength after recovering from the wasting sickness. Through your frustration and tears, Aleksander has been nothing but patient. His confidence in your abilities has been unfailing, as he has been teaching you to summon with one hand. He’s certain that you will soon master summoning from pure will alone. You don’t know how he does it all.

The two of you have been ruling Ravka with varying levels of success. The Little Palace has been reestablished, the damage done in the attack was repaired almost immediately. As often as you can, you and Aleksander walk along the path that leads from the Grand Palace to the Little Palace. You can only marvel at the changes made in the last few months. The previous King had always been cautious of the Grisha, and in order to ensure their safety, Aleksander had encouraged the Grisha to work within the Little Palace. There had been limits on what the Grisha had been allowed to work on so that they could not be seen as a threat to the monarchy. Now that the King was gone, the Fabrikators’ workshops had a colossal influx of ongoing projects, and collaboration between the orders. After years of hardship, the Grisha were finally beginning to thrive.

Despite the good you have both managed to implement, there are still several matters that continue to both trouble and vex you. The Apparat has been drawing more followers into joining the leagues of the Sun Cult. You are certain that the Apparat has ensured that Alina remains hidden. He is now reliant on the faith of her followers, with her in his custody, he can gather enough soldiers to pose a threat to you and Aleksander. Unfortunately, your raids have only uncovered crazed fanatics - no Sun Summoner or Apparat.

The other matter is the reason why you and Aleksander are tucked away in the library of the Grand Palace, breathing in dust and decay. When he first became the General of the Second Army, Aleksander safeguarded a number of Morozova’s journals and other books documenting the existence of his amplifiers. Whilst a number of them were stolen after your first attempt at removing the monarchy, Aleksander had the foresight to conceal a number of the books in one of the passages under the Little Palace. The two of you have been reading these books to the point of obsession, in an attempt to locate the Firebird.

Several years after the creation of the amplifiers, a Squaller explorer known only as the Bone Hunter sought to find Morozova’s creatures. The Bone Hunter’s journal documented their search, and is one of Aleksander’s most valued pieces. Not only is it the first documented mention of Morozova’s amplifiers, but the Bone Hunter is the only known person to have ever seen the Firebird. You and Aleksander have been scouring the library for the past few hours, attempting to decipher the words of the journal.

It’s written in Old Ravkan, so Aleksander has no trouble reading it. You had learnt how to read Old Ravkan, but you sometimes took the translations too literally, much to Aleksander’s amusement. The landscape and borders of Ravka have changed over the centuries, and the Bone Hunter was not the best at recounting geography. They often described significant trees, which was of no help to you or Aleksander. Trees lasted centuries, but these journals’ age exceeded the majority of Ravka’s forestry. At any point in which the journals mentioned rock formations or rivers, you and Aleksander would scour map after map, looking for any place in Ravka that the journals could be referring to.

You had both agreed that the two of you would search for the Firebird together. Leaving the capital without either of you to defend it had seemed like a poor decision to you, at first. Aleksander had reasoned that the Grisha and nichevo'ya were more than capable of defending Os Alta, and that it might take both of you to take down the Firebird. The first few entries that describe the Firebird detail its ferocity, how it had torn men apart and seized them with its talons before soaring up into the air, dropping the hunters to their deaths. After reading over these entries, you begin to agree with Aleksander. The thought of facing the Firebird alone is terrifying, but the two of you can do anything together.

»»---------------------►

Evenings are always reserved for you and Aleksander to spend time alone. During the day, neither of you stray too far from the other, after all, you rule side by side. The Tsar and his Tsaritsa. Aleksander nearly always has a hand on your back as you walk through the corridors. Your knees brush while you are sat in council meetings. But once you are in the privacy of your own rooms, the two of you are attached at the hip. You won’t leave Aleksander’s arms all night. You bathe together, taking the time to wash one another, then curl up on the sofa by the fire. Sometimes you both bring whatever books you’ve been reading, on rare occasions you will convince Aleksander to read aloud to you. Other nights you will simply spend in each other’s arms. Aleksander will trail his fingers over your skin, his thumb circling your cheek as he cups your face in his hand.

In these quiet moments you will share your dreams with each other. You both have the same plans for Ravka, but these moments are sacred and not to be tarnished with the stressors of the day. At night, the two of you are free to talk about your life together. Aleksander wants to live somewhere in the South of Ravka, where it’s warmer. You want to become a writer - to document discoveries in the Small Science, or create commentary on the lives of Grisha, or analyse historic texts. Aleksander wants to take you horse riding, just the two of you, travelling across Ravka together. These private dreams are what keep you both going. The thoughts of Ravka at peace, of Grisha living in safety, which allow the two of you to finally live solely for yourselves.

It’s during one of these evenings that Aleksander shares an idea with you.

“Do you remember when we first met?” He asks, tilting his head to look at you. Your legs are draped over his thighs, your body pressed against his side.

“Of course.” He lifts a brow at you, encouraging you to recount it, at which you laugh softly as you remember. “I tried to pick your pocket.” He hums fondly as he casts his mind back, and you add quietly. “You know, you’re the only person who’s ever caught me.”

“Do you want to know why that is?”

“You sensed the presence of your soulmate?” You suggest with a small smirk. A smile tugs at his lips, and he laughs lightly.

“Close, but no.” You glance at him curiously, waiting for him to elaborate. “You were bending the shadows.” You frown at his explanation.

“How? I couldn’t summon for weeks after I arrived at the Little Palace.”

“I think you did it subconsciously, bending the shadows slightly, so that you would remain hidden while you rifled through my kefta.” You pause for a moment, thinking his words over.

“So I wasn’t actually a good thief, just a secret Shadow Summoner.” You comment, a small amount of dejection in your tone. Amusement twinkles in his eyes as he regards you.

“I have another theory.” You nod, and he continues, “I think you could bend the shadows further, and completely hide yourself.”

“Become invisible?” He nods,

“I didn’t see you, I sensed your shadows.” He reasons, and your brow creases as you think it over. “I discussed this with the Fabrikators, David thinks it might be possible.”

“Have you ever tried to do it?” Aleksander looks away from you at that question. Staring into the fire, his dark eyes reflecting the flicker in the hearth with startling clarity.

“No, I haven’t.”

“What’s wrong?” You ask him, your voice scarcely a whisper.

“I think that my mother’s affinity for the shadows was a result of Morozova’s experiments, which she then passed onto me.” You watch his face carefully, as you think over his words. It’s likely. Morozova was incredibly eccentric. A lot of his experiments weren’t fully articulated in his journals. Even with Aleksander’s explanations, you still don’t fully understand how Merzost works. “Whilst I have more experience, more power in the sense of using Merzost, I believe that, with the right amplification, the scope of your power will exceed my own.” Your heart hammers in your chest, as you attempt to process all this information.

“That’s why you believe the Firebird should be mine.” He nods,

“The most powerful amplifier in existence.”

“But you can summon the shadows? We’re still both the same?” He looks away from the fire for the first time, eyes searching your face. He recognises the look in your eyes, the fear of being the only one.

“Of course we are, milaya.” He reassures you, tracing his fingers delicately over your cheek. “You and I are two of a kind.” His voice is soft, and warm with the underlying affection he reserves only for you. “Though I suspect you are more of a Shadow Summoner than I am.” He remarks with a small chuckle, which you frown at. “It can’t be a coincidence, you and Alina appearing within a century of each other. You’re closer to her age than you are mine.” He reasons.

“If this is you attempting to play matchmaker, I’m afraid she’s not my type.” You remark with a smirk. “And I’m already quite taken.” Aleksander cups your face as he lifts a brow.

“Really? And who might this lucky suitor be?” You smile as you lean towards his lips, brushing your nose against his as you reply,

“Only the Tsar of Ravka.” Aleksander moves forward, capturing your lips with his own in a kiss filled with adoration. There’s a tender smile on his lips as he pulls away, pressing his forehead against your own.

“Moya Tsaritsa.” He sighs against your lips, as the two of you lean into each other’s embrace. “Moi sol ye tselai.” My sun and stars. Your own smile widens, as you whisper,

“My Aleksander. I love you more than anything.”

»»---------------------►

Over the course of the next week, you attempt to master bending the shadows. Aleksander offers you suggestions and pointers, and you’re soon able to disappear from view. Of course, Aleksander can still sense your presence, he would recognise the tug of your shadows anywhere. Corporalki can still detect your heartbeat, something you found out when you were attempting to sneak up on Fedoyr - much to your disappointment. David was delighted when he heard that you had managed to bend the shadows. You had visited him in his workshop and he had rattled off a number of other theories he had, which you had some trouble following. Luckily Aleksander had appeared to inform you of an emergency meeting before you became too confused.

“Has something happened?” You ask Aleksander as you follow him through the halls towards the War Room. His shoulders are tense, and the shadows around you both are eager to shift as you walk by.

“One of our Tailors has returned from the North with information regarding the whereabouts of the remaining Royals.” Your eyes widen as you look at Aleksander, hardly daring to believe it. That after so long, you might be able to finish this. You had heard from some of your spies that Alina had escaped from the Apparat, if this is true then it’s likely that she will have sought out Prince Nikolai. Meaning that both the Royals and the Sun Summoner could finally be within your grasp.

The assembled Grisha bow as you and Aleksander enter the War Room, and you both take your places at the head of the table. Thankfully, the meeting opens with the report from the Tailor. He’s young, though most Grisha feel young to you now. He explains how he had joined up with a group of rogue Grisha who planned to lend their support to the Sun Summoner. Which led him to the Lanstov’s hideout. The Monastery of Sankt Demyan.

The Tailor shows promise of being a good spy. He answers all questions about the hideout. About the number of supporters gathered there, and the weapons being developed. One of the archivists produces some blueprints of the monastery, created during its renovation into an observatory a few hundred years ago. The Tailor confirms that the layout remains the same, detailing the functions of each room. This is what you’ve been waiting for, the means to coordinate a strike against the resistance and secure yours and Aleksander’s position on the throne. The Tailor also informs you that the Sun Summoner had recently arrived at the hideout. It almost seems too good to be true. Of course, it’s likely that something will go wrong, but now you have a direct course of action, and Aleksander always has a plan.

The meeting goes on for several hours, as your council contemplates a number of different strategies for your strike on the hideout. You organise the necessary resources and debate the most efficient route into the mountains. It’s late into the afternoon when you and Aleksander are finally alone.

“I would have liked you to have the Firebird’s power before facing her again.” Aleksander admits. You take his hands in your own.

“I wasn’t at my strongest the last time.” You remind him. “Our scouts have reported possible signs of the Firebird in the valleys of the Sikurzoi, which aligns with what we’ve gathered from the Bone Hunter.” He nods along with your words. “Once this has been taken care of, we can search for the Firebird ourselves.”

His fingers trace their over each of your knuckles, before his touch slides up your forearms, drawing you into his arms. You lean your head against his chest. Reassured by the familiar feeling of his kefta against your cheek, and the faint beating of his heart under it all. He traces his hand over your cheek, and you look up at him. You can see contemplation in his eyes, and you know he’s trying to make a decision. A small smile flickers across his face.

“I have something I need to ask of you.” You wrap your fingers around his wrist, squeezing lightly to convey your support.

“Anything.”

»»---------------------►

V & V Tag List: @hummelmi @james-bucky-barnes-bitch @scarlettels @visd3stele

So sad

when the good place said “no one is beyond rehabilitation” and aleksander morozova said “don’t let me be alone”

Exactly

People dote on Kaz for the same traits they bash on the Darkling send tweet

Alr

Aleksander I thank you for your advice

Wtf are mommy issues? Just traumatise your mom back xx

-Alecksandar Morozova

jelly have mercy on me

It’s so perfect

Heros Fall

Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!reader, Yelena Belova x Teen!reader

After your mom’s death, a surprise visitor comes and takes you in

Word Count: 1,356

A/N: Idk if the title fits (I might change it) but I hope you enjoy this! There are translations for the Russian at the bottom. Reader is about 15/16

Warnings: Possible Black Widow spoilers (if I forget any, please let me know)

Even over the sound of your laptop playing Moonraker, one of your mom’s favorite movies, you could hear the sound of a car pulling up outside the trailer. Since your mom died and the Avengers defeated Thanos, you couldn’t stand being in New York so you left and came here. It was where she told you could always go to feel safe, even if she wasn’t around. You hadn’t felt the same since she died so you hoped being here would do something but at times, it made you feel even emptier. 

Keep reading

Harry performing at Wembley Stadium, photographed by eddy.luciano

"Sanctuary" Part II

Part I here

Billy Russo x Reader

NSFW

Warnings: oral sex, rough unprotected sex, slightly dubious consent, Billy being that asshole.

MY MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

Billy never thought he would feel like that again. 

Back when he was serving overseas with Frank and Curt, he was swift, silent, deadly. He was strong and fearless, he was damn near invincible, and he knew it, knew he was exceptional. But ever since he had woken up chained to that hospital bed, all he had felt, all that he knew anymore was pain, and shame, and that inescapable fear coloring his every waking moment. Even as he killed that asshole from the bus and Arthur, it hadn't been like before. He was just a beat-up, rabid dog lashing out. He was a revenant, a shadow of what he used to be. 

And that was what he saw, when he looked at himself in your bathroom mirror, a monster, with every bad thing he had ever done written all over his face. That was the reason he was okay with the pitying looks Dr. Dumont was always throwing his way, he thought that was the best he could expect in his new reality. But that wasn't pity in your eyes when you ran into him shirtless in your bathroom. It wasn't disgust either. 

It was desire. 

Billy used to be familiar enough with it to recognize that look, the way your breath hitched, the obvious flush to your cheeks as he held your gaze. And he might have been broken, but he wasn't blind, he could see you were beautiful, the kind of understated beauty who didn't even know the effect she had on people. After all, there was no denying the effect you had had on him when you had opened your door like that, barefooted and hair disheveled, naked legs on display in the tiniest cotton shorts he had ever seen. He had simply shoved it down, pushed it aside, another item in the long list of things he could never have again. 

Except now he was beginning to understand perhaps he could, and he was nothing if not an opportunist, if a chance presented itself, he would grab it and hold onto it with both hands. 

Far from discouraged when you stepped back as he took a step towards you, he took a second one, and then another, extending his hand to push the bathroom door closed and cage you against it. 

“Going somewhere, little girl?”

Your throat wobbled as you swallowed hard, the small movement drawing his attention to the soft collum of your neck, too tempting for his fingers not to follow his eyes. 

So much for the impulse control your dear sister was trying to instill into him.

“Are you scared?” it was a valid question, he could feel your pulse, beating fast as a hummingbird against his fingertips, but you shook your head no. He smiled, “Brave girl… I think you deserve a treat, don't you?” 

Billy didn't wait for your reply before crashing his lips to yours a little harder than he intended, but you were so soft, so pliant under his hands and your mouth tasted so sweet his self-control, feeble to begin with, didn't stand a chance. Soon as you parted your lips -for him or for air, Billy couldn't say he cared- he shoved his tongue into your mouth, chasing the sweetness, the warmth. 

“You taste so good,” he murmured against your jawline when you parted for oxygen, “wonder if you taste this good everywhere…”

“What's stopping you?” You dared, turning your head to capture his lips again, obviously eager. It made Billy's blood sing, the little reminder that you wanted him as much as he wanted you. Boldened, he let his hands roam down your body, alternatively feeling and squeezing, exploring, till they finally reached the bottom of your oversized Kate Bush t-shirt and lifted it over your head. 

“Fuck!” The awed curse escaped his mouth before he could stop it when he finally got a full, unobstructed view of your breasts, making you giggle. It was so fucking endearing he almost giggled himself, giddy at the sight of your smile. “Shut up” why did his cheeks feel so hot? “Its been a while, and these are fucking glorious”

You only chuckled again, so he buried his face in your chest, licking and nibbling, effectively shutting you up. The moan that left your lips as he latched into a nipple sent sparks straight to his dick. He quickly decided it didn't even matter if you came to your senses before letting him fuck you, he would gladly jerk off for the rest of his life to the lovely little sounds you were making. So, he moved to show your other nipple the same attention, softly caressing around the other with his thumb, lest it felt neglected. It seemed to be the right move, because Billy could feel as you slowly relaxed under his hands. He took full advantage of it, trailing wet kisses lower and lower until he was on his knees in front of you. 

It was your turn to curse as his hot mouth made contact with your clothed crotch, making him smirk in satisfaction. He had planned to tease you like that for a while, but the liquid fire in your eyes as he looked up to see your face convinced him otherwise; to watch you fall apart for him was a far more tempting prospect. 

Keeping eye contact, he hooked his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, a silent request for consent, which you gave with a nod. Billy didn't waste a second after that, getting rid of both your shorts and underwear in a single move. 

The first taste of you was heavenly. You didn't taste like strawberries or pineapple, a fruit-flavored pussy didn't exist, but he could have spent his life sipping up that slightly tangy, almost cloying sweetness of yours. He didn't think you would be opposed to the idea, if your thrown back head and soft noises leaving your lips were anything to go by. He took hold of your leg, manhandling you until your thigh was over his shoulder to get better access before flattening his tongue to your slit, enjoying your surprised gasp. He switched to lightly grazing your clit with the tip of his tongue, immediately causing your hand to fly to the back of his head, trying and failing to find purchase to force him to press his face to your cunt, but he complied anyway, giving you exactly what you wanted. 

Hands around your hips to keep you steady, Billy ravished you with his tongue, as far as he could go, imitating what he wanted to do with his cock, as you whimpered and trembled above him.

“Billy… please” It was the first time Billy heard you say his name, and it did something to his insides.

“What do you want, pretty girl?” He asked while stroking your labia with his thumb, spreading the wetness to your clit just so he could start rubbing circles around it. It had the intended effect, accelerating your breathing, and making it harder for you to put words to your needs. 

"More…" You managed to choke out. Billy placed a little kiss on the inside of your thigh, an impulsive gesture, a whim he indulged in, refusing to analyze it further. 

"You want my fingers inside this pretty little pussy? Hmm? Or maybe…" He licked the spot your leg joined your torso, frustratingly close to where he knew you wanted it, "Maybe you want me to penetrate you with my tongue…"

You were nodding frantically, breathing out "yes" and "please" and incoherent, incomprensible promises Billy didn't even try to make sense of. It didn't matter, because he  wasn't planning on giving it to you anyway. 

"Sorry, sweetheart," He wasn't sorry at all, "But the first time I fuck you, it will be with my cock…" 

He felt your fingertips dig into his scalp.

"Oh, you like that? The thought of my big fat cock here between your legs? Going in and out again and again until you beg me to stop?" Ok, maybe he did want to fuck you after all and was not above manipulating you any way he could to get you to agree. Sue him. 

He stopped his thumbs movements, ignoring your cry of protest, standing to his full height, towering over your very naked form.

"Sorry, baby, but if you want me to fuck you, I'm gonna need to hear you say it"

You looked up, big doe eyes devoid of any doubts, 

"Billy Russo, please fuck me" 

That was all he needed. In two moves flat, his pants were down around his ankles and he had you turned around, grinding his cock against your bare ass, just to see it, to sear the image of his dick against your ass cheeks into his brain. He wanted to commit it all to memory, the way you bent over your bathroom counter, offering yourself up to him, the way your hot, hot center felt against his cock as he stroked the head against your slit, back and forwards, bumping your clit on purpose with every stroke, coating himself in the juices dripping out of you.

Lining himself up, the next stroke had him pushing inside, breaching your entrance, making you jump as if electrically shocked. 

"Wait! Condom!" 

Billy cursed internally. He had completely forgotten about protection, but he was already an inch deep and you felt so snug, so fucking-... so deliciously tight against his head he thought he would die if he had to part from your silky, wet warmth. 

"I'm clean. I know I'm clean. Just escaped from a hospital, remember?" 

He could see your uncertain look in the mirror, so he took the choice away from you, pushing into you with one long, unforgiving stroke. He would buy you Plan B, he would get the entire fucking farmacy for you if you asked, but he needed you, and he needed you now.

"I just wanna feel you for a minute" His tone was almost begging as he withdraw a couple of inches only to surge forward again, "Please just… let me feel you" 

But you couldn’t speak, eyes closed, mouth open in a silent "oh", so he kept thrusting, slowly building a rhythm. He had to go slow, otherwise he wasn't going to last, you felt too fucking amazing and he, well, he was touch starved, he could admit to that. 

"So good… look at that" He was mesmerized, eyes fixed on the place he was disappearing inside you, "You're taking me so fucking well…" 

And you were, even though he was obviously a little too big for you, even though there was a little resistance, you weren't complaining, you were letting him fuck you harder and deeper with every ondulation of his hips, bracing yourself on the sink, rocking your hips back. 

Greedy little thing…

But if you wanted more, he was going to give you more. He was going to fucking ruin you.

Snaking his arm around your waist, he pulled you in, forcing you to straighten up until your back was flushed with his chest. The angle wasn't completely right, he had to bend his knees to be able to keep going, but it was totally worth it when your eyes met his in the mirror. He could feel your walls clenching around his cock as you watched him fuck you, goosebumps breaking on your skin as he licked the side of your neck filthily. Your hand reached back to grab his buttock, urging him on.

"Billy…"

"Like this, pretty girl?.. like it dirty?" He taunted, hand traveling lower, fingers spreading your labia so you could see him spear you open in the mirror. 

"Fuck…" You threw your head back against his shoulder, unable to handle as he started to play with your clit again. Billy tsked.

"Oh, no, sweetheart… gotta open those pretty eyes… want you to look at me when I make you come…" 

And he prayed to every god he didn't believe in to be able to do it, to make you fall apart before he did, because he could already feel it, the tightness in his balls, the tension in the base of his spine building up. There was no stopping the noises making their way out of his throat, his rhythm slipping, sloppier. One of his hands flew to your hip bone, fingers digging in with bruising force to pull you to him as he thrusted into you, the other closing around your neck, squeezing your windpipe hard enough to cut the air flow. 

Your eyes finally met his in the mirror, wide, far too large, alarmed. Billy bared his teeth, squeezing harder, watching as you turned red, as your eyes grew impossibly bigger.

As you shivered, tight velvety walls rippling around his spasming cock, the liquid warmth of his come shooting deep inside you the last thing you felt before going limp in his arms. 

To be continued...

Whatever You Say, Beyoncé: The Scarlet Apprentice || Wanda Maximoff

☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of pain. If I have missed any warnings please let me know.

Word Count: 1357 words.

Summary: Stephen Strange needs to act fast in order to stop you- The Scarlet Apprentice.

A/N: Part 6 of ‘The Scarlet Apprentice’. I thought I’d give you some Stephen Strange and Wong content, hopefully you enjoy!

Please do not repost (on here or any social media platform), copy, translate or take ownership of my work. Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Masterlist

☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆ ☆○o。　　。o○☆

GIF not mine

Whatever you say, Beyoncé: The Scarlet Apprentice-

-The Ruins of The Temple Of The Scarlet Witch-

The sound of an anguished breath filled the air as Stephen came to. With the night sky making its appearance- he realises he must have passed out from pure fatigue.

He struggles onto his side, releasing a series of grunts and sighs as he staggers onto his feet.

He’s still on the vantage point he discovered before losing consciousness, giving him an exemplary view of what remains of the sacred temple. The darkness surrounding him however, provides him with no favours in concern with making out prime details.

He slowly makes his way down a steep formation, allowing him to reach level with the temple’s site.

He conjures a compact amount of Sorcerer’s magic to help cast some light on the ruins ahead.

His eyes scan frantically, hoping to find any sign of life, he can’t lose Wong. Though he would never admit this to him, he’s one of his closest friends, he’s taught him so much and has always been by his side throughout his journey of becoming a Sorcerer.

He slowly makes his way around the edge of the destruction, moving his hand to guide light into each cavity.

The search is going to take him hours alone, time that he cannot waste- Wong’s life depends on it.

This constant thought replays in Stephen’s mind; alongside memories of recent events- the unleashing of The Scarlet Apprentice’s power, and Wanda’s betrayal.

Anger clouding his thoughts, he sends a surge of power into the air; crouching down to grab frustratedly at his hair, casting his gaze to the ground.

He feels a tug from his clothing, choosing to ignore it. Several more tugs follow and he lifts his head and lets out an irritated ‘What?’. He looks around but cannot see anyone, that’s when he realises that his ‘Cloak of Levitation’ is trying to get his attention. It enhances its force, causing Stephen to be lifted from the ground; the right, bottom corner of the Cloak points to a specified point in the wreckage.

A red glowing light shines through the cracks of the stone, illuminating the ruins around it. Stephen makes his way over to the light in record time, desperately clawing at the hardened material to reveal the glow from underneath. Steadily, the scarlet red light shines brighter. Until Stephen sees where it is originating from.

“Wong!” He rushes to pull Wong’s body from the slot he occupies, as he brings him to the surface, the red light fades- having a familiarity to it’s form.

Stephen drags Wong’s body to an open space, giving him the room needed to check him over.

“Wong, can you hear me? It’s Stephen, can you answer me?” He receives no response.

He resorts to tapping The Sorcerer Supreme on the cheek rapidly-still, nothing.

‘Here goes nothing,’ Stephen thinks to himself, as he sits beside Wong.

“Well, I guess I can reclaim my title as ‘The Ultimate Sorcerer Supreme’” Stephen feels a shift from next to him.

“Over my dead body, Strange.” Wong lets out weakly, followed by a series of dry coughs.

Stephen displays a pleased smile across his face, as he helps Wong sit up, rubbing his back to encourage his coughs along.

“Thought that would get your attention, you okay?” Stephen worries about the impact that last day has had on his friend.

“I should be, if it wasn’t for that protection spell you cast over me, I think I would be dead.” Wong shifts to rest his back against a large boulder.

“As much as I’d like to take credit for saving your life, that wasn’t my charm. I think Wanda conjured it to protect you.” Wong faces Stephen in disbelief.

“Wanda? After what she did? I think you’ve hit your head along the way of escaping that mess over there; a mess she helped cause may I add!’ Wong gestures to the rubble in front of them.

“Wong, we both know she has the ability to kill us instantly if she wanted to. There’s a reason she didn’t, yes she attacked us but part of me wants to believe she still wants to do the right thing.” Now that Wong is sat safely in front of him, the majority of Stephen’s anger has faded.

However, Stephen knows once Wong’s mind is made up, it is very difficult to change it, but he feels too strongly about this to let it go.

“She has an interesting way of showing it, we could have died, Strange. I don’t recall her putting up much of a fight against her little sidekick either.” Wong attempts to pick himself up, clutching at the surface behind him to steady himself.

“Okay, I’m clearly not getting anywhere with this, but take this into consideration Wong. We both know the damage both Wanda and y/n can create together. If we can’t get through to one, we can attempt to get through to the other. If we cannot stop them from unleashing their ultimate capabilities then the Universe as we know it will cease to exist.”

Wong slowly turns to face Stephen.

“I know her love for y/n is influencing her actions, but Wanda is a good person, she knows right from wrong. If we can get through to her that unleashing The Scarlet Apprentice will be detrimental to us all, then we have a chance of protecting everything we stand for.” Stephen stands, hoping Wong will take his points into consideration.

“If you are mistaken, and she doesn’t know right from wrong; if she chooses to enhance y/n’s power, what then?” Wong needs to know every ounce of detail before he can agree to any plan.

“Then we’ll have no choice but to take them both down. We can prepare for it, we retreat to the Sanctum Sanctorum, we study what we know of Wanda’s magic- there has to be something other than the version of The Darkhold she possesses. After all they share the same type of magic, if we can take one down, the other won’t be a problem.” Stephen straightens his posture, confidently standing by his points made.

Wong sighs, “You’re right Strange, let's go see what we can find.” He starts to move when he notices a surprised expression on Stephen’s face.

“Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? Oh no, no I just need to test if I still have some temple dust in my ears, I swear I just heard you say I’m ‘right’ about something.” Stephen mimics a motion of emptying his ears.

Wong rolls his eyes, “Yes, yes, yes well done, you actually used your Brain for once, now come along. We don’t have all day.” Wong is about to open a portal with his magic, allowing them access to the Sanctum Sanctorum in New York City; when Stephen interrupts the process.

“Allow me…” Stephen raises his hand, wearing his ‘Sling Ring” displaying the correct hand gesture; allowing him to use his other hand to summon the portal, performing a wide, circular motion.

A combination of orange and golden sparks start to form in front of him, their structure growing wider with his continued motion. Soon a portal opens, Stephen rests his arms when a flood of water shoots out of the portal, striking him with an immense force; causing him to surge past Wong and be pinned against one of the many boulders that surround them.

The flow of water comes to a halt, allowing Wong to limp over to Stephen, who is in the process of coughing and spluttering up the remnants of water that worked its way into his system.

“I think it's best if I try now, don't you.” Wong shakes his head in disappointment.

“Whatever you say, Beyoncé.” A dripping Stephen lets out.

Wong throws his hands up in frustration, “Every time, you do this every time!”

All that can be heard from the abandoned temple’s remains is the bickering of the two Sorcerers, as they make their way back to Bleecker Street, adamant to find a way to stop The Scarlet Apprentice.

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