#supposed to also be a lot more grime/rust but that's because it's been left idle for a while ++ paint... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leisurelypanda · 3 years

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Fantasy Thundershield Concept - Steve's a water spirit of a secluded spring deep in the forest. Humans almost never wander far enough into the forest to find his domain, so he's never had much interaction with them, or even seen them up close.

One day, a travelling knight named Thor passes through the area, weary from his long journey. Upon seeing the spring, he decides he can afford a little time to bathe and relax, stripping off before he slips into the water with a sigh of relief. With the coolness of the water easing the aches in his muscles, it doesn't take long for him to drift off to sleep seated on a shallow rock shelf at the pool's edge.

Little does he know Steve's been watching him with fascination this whole time, unable to tear his eyes away from this handsome stranger. Once Thor's asleep, he creeps closer through the water to get a better look, running his hands over Thor's body and hard muscles in curiosity. Thor's cock takes up a lot of Steve's attention, especially as it begins to lengthen and harden in his hands.

Meanwhile, Thor thinks he's been having a very pleasant dream, moaning and growling softly in his sleep under Steve's ministrations. Until he awakens to find this lithe, beautiful spirit straddling his hips and staring at him with those beautiful blue eyes, his bare ass pressed right up against Thor's erection. Lost in each other's eyes, it seems only natural that Thor shift his hips ever so slightly. Just at the right angle to slowly push his cock up into his companion's ass, their moans filling the still air as Thor takes Steve in his arms properly and draws him out into the deeper waters to continue their union.

Ooo this is such a delicious idea and it's so different from lots of fantasy AUs!

Thor is probably a knight or prince out on a quest to slay a monster or something. It's as much for glory as it is to help people who are being threatened by it. Instead of finding monster, though, he gets hopelessly lost in the forest while searching for it.

The spring is fueled by a nearby volcano so that it's always pleasantly warm, even in the dead of winter. It also contains several minerals that are good for the human skin. Additionally, since it has the blessing of a water spirit, the water contains magical properties that heal the wounds of those who drink or bathe in the waters, as long as they pose no threat to the spring or the environment around it.

Thor, being a human, has no clue about this, of course. All he knows is that the troll that was threatening people who live at the foot of the mountain is nowhere to be found. He's yet to find the cave where the mountain troll is supposed to dwell. Still, it’s been two days and nights of travel. Thor’s beginning to believe that the troll has either moved on or that the villagers were simply mistaken about what happened to their missing friends.

In the failing light of the third day, Thor happens upon the hidden spring. Steam is rising gently from the water and Thor sees an opportunity to relieve his sore muscles. It would even be a good place to rest for the night if he could manage to find some food in the traps he’d set up earlier.

He quietly strips out of his clothing and armor and tests the water gingerly with his foot. It’s pleasantly hot, but not so hot that it hurt to touch it. He sighs luxuriantly as he lets himself sink into the water. He sits on one of the rocks in the pool that’s the perfect height for him. It lets him lounge in the pool, the water rising up to his shoulders.

Unbeknownst to Thor, Steve was idling his day away in the spring. It comes from an underground river and he’s spent his whole life, however long it’s been, exploring it and the surrounding mountain. The spring is his home and he prefers to keep it hidden, especially from humans.

This one, however, found it on accident. Steve is almost insulted that someone has come into his home without so much as a “by your leave,” but the stranger’s beauty stills his tongue. the man is built like a mountain lion, all corded muscle and long limbs. The grime that washes away from his skin reveals its glowing tan and his hair is long and golden.

It doesn’t take long for the human to fall asleep in the healing waters. As soon as Steve is sure that he is, in fact, sleeping, he rises from the depths where he had been watching the stranger.

Steve’s not a complete recluse. He has met other spirits. The creature that the village at the foot of the mountain calls a troll is actually a spirit of a cluster of rocks at the top of the mountain. He wasn’t very bright, though. Probably why he said his name was “Brock,” because the name was similar to what he was. There were other spirits. Bucky, the spirit of the pine forest that covered the mountains here, was much more well traveled than Steve, and he said humans weren’t very interesting. They fought and quarreled and they cut down his precious trees.

Then there was Peggy, the spirit of the ice that covered the top of the mountains. She had a much more gracious view of humans. She said they were warm and kind, the food they made was delicious, and though they struggled to survive, they also found time to frolic and enjoy life.

Steve wasn’t sure what to think, but he’d never thought to venture too far from his spring or the river that ran through the mountains. If he followed it, he might run into humans eventually, but he preferred this spring. So this was the first time he’d ever seen one a human up close. What surprised him most was that neither Bucky nor Peggy had told him how attractive they were. As he neared the sleeping human, he began to touch him. He felt the strong muscles beneath his skin. He ran his hands over the rolling expanses, letting his fingers follow the mountains and valleys that formed on the man’s body.

Were they all like this? If so, perhaps there was some reason to seek the humans out on occasion like Peggy did.

Then, of course, Steve arrived at the human’s cock. it was the most fascinating thing about him, so far. At first, it had been soft. Impressive, but soft. The longer Steve spent feeling the man’s body, the longer and harder it became. This was another thing neither of his friends mentioned. He stared at it in fascination. It was true that his body looked like a human’s but he had never actually thought much about it.

He lets instinct take over. It always seemed to work in the past. Where the instinct came from, Steve couldn’t say, but he climbed into the man’s lap and lined up his cock to his hole. As he began to sink down on it, he moaned as the thick cock stretched him open. The sound caused the man’s eyes to open. They looked at each other for a while. Steve’s hands were braced on the man’s chest. A moment later, the human put his hands on Steve’s hips and began thrusting up. Steve moaned and Thor captured his mouth with his own in some kind of strange human ritual. It’s not unpleasant, but it is a bit strange.

Steve soon got the hang of this strange human ritual. Their tongues slid against each other as the human thrust up into him. It was the greatest pleasure that Steve had ever felt. The longer the human thrusts into him, the greater his pleasure grows. Steve can’t help but moan. His moans grow louder and louder. The human’s cock goes so deeply into Steve’s body that Steve can practically feel him in the depths of his very soul. He can’t get enough of it.

The human comes with a loud growl. Steve feels the hot liquid fill his ass. A moment later, Steve himself is pushed over the edge with pleasure and it bursts from him. It’s a feeling he’s never experienced before. The whole spring seems to resound with the waves of his pleasure as his entire being practically glows with it.

As soon as it’s done, he gasps and looks into the human’s eyes. He looks back into Steve’s with a warm smile.

“I must be dreaming,” the human says. “But in case I am not, my name is Thor.”

“You’re not dreaming,” Steve says. “My name is Steve.”

Thor pulls Steve into another one of those human mouth rituals. Steve is more than happy to allow it to happen. He has no idea how long the two of them bask in the pleasure they give each other. Spirits perceive time differently from humans, after all. All he knows is that when they finally stop to really rest, Thor’s armor is covered in rust and his clothes have been claimed by the earth. Thor doesn’t seem to care, though. He finds a nearby cave with a pool in it that’s connected to Steve’s river and makes his home there.

Down the mountain in human society, there are tales of a valiant knight who tragically ventured up the mountain in search of a troll. Some stories say it was a manticore or a chimera or a dragon, but all stories say that he never returned. The village packed up and left in search of a less spiritual mountain. Meanwhile, Thor and Steve live out their long years together. He meets Peggy and Bucky and other spirits as he travels the mountain range with his lover. What exactly happened to him to make it possible for him to live so long is unknown to him, but Steve and his friends take to calling him the spirit of the mountain. He never really considers returning to the world of humans. He prefers to spend his days and nights, years and decades and centuries, in the arms of the precious water spirit who captured his heart.

#cinderellasfella #thundershield #ask #thor #steve rogers #thor x pre-serum steve #fantasy AU #water spirit Steve #lemons

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yatorihell · 7 years

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In The Darkness Chapter 15 - Diagon Alley

Words: 2,449

Summary: Hiyori bumps into someone familiar in Diagon Alley as she prepares for her second year at Hogwarts.

Previous chapter | First chapter

For the 1st anniversary of the Harry Potter AU!

Thank you to Gio (@themusicalbookworm) for beta-ing me!

A/N: A while ago there was some discourse on my Tumblr over me putting Yato into Slytherin 'because he's evil'. Yato's speech about this in this chapter reflects that stereotype I'm trying to break about Slytherins. It's also an important plot point which I can't talk much about, but trust me, Yato isn't Slytherin because 'it's the evil house'.

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Detached from wizarding life, Hiyori’s summer resulted in long, lazy days of completing assignments and catching up with old friends. Smartly avoiding questions of her ‘private school’, Hiyori recounted stories of what she had been up to, minus the magic and mishaps, to both her old friends and her parents.

Her letters home throughout the school year didn’t include the numerous occasions that would make her mother faint with horror, and her father pull her out of the school altogether. What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

Her father was much more relaxed and, unlike her mother, embraced her interest in a break-neck sport where enchanted balls battered players and left them hospitalised. So much so that once she greeted her parents after returning to Kings Cross Station, they had gone to Diagon Alley and gifted Hiyori a Nimbus 2000 – and a lot of protective clothing – for her birthday.

Unable to practice, Hiyori admired the broom which had been propped up in the corner of her bedroom, anticipating the moment she would be able to ride it - and hopefully not smash it into smithereens.

Although she had stayed in contact with Aimi and Yama throughout the summer, Hiyori had no contact with Yukine nor Yato as they hadn’t mentioned any addresses. She wasn’t even sure if they had owls.

It didn't matter now though as the next school year was just around the corner.

Returning to Diagon Alley in late August (through a suspicious looking pub entitled The Leaky Cauldron), Hiyori and her family collected the next load of books she would need for her second year at Hogwarts.

Her parents were sidetracked the moment they left the bookshop by the allure of the other bizarre shops they had been too terrified to step foot in the first time they had collected her school supplies.

Hiyori gave up on trying to drag her mother away from gazing at the array of neon coloured bottles in Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions shop window, whereas her father was opposite reading the strange flavours of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

Hiyori stared down the barren alley. Its lopsided cobbled path trailing down and forking off in different paths. The first years had ransacked the shops the moment they received their acceptance letter, gathering all the equipment they would need to see them through the oncoming term.

Amongst the few pointy-hatted wizards towing children and gatherings of fellow students, Hiyori could see a single figure walking alone, head bowed and carrying a bag over their shoulder.

They barely brushed past Hiyori in the narrow street, not even looking up as she acknowledged them. They seemed familiar, the bag tied shut with string and the dark shock of hair which concealed their face.

Someone familiar…

“Yato?”

He stopped abruptly, stiffening under their black robe before slowly turning their head.

His hair was dishevelled, clumps of it sticking up to give him the appearance that a fan of jet black peacock had erupted from his head. Untameable bangs fell over his wide-eyed stare when he caught sight of Hiyori.

“Hiyori?”

Hiyori couldn’t help but notice the blue of his eyes being especially sharp in contrast to the dark circles that had taken hold under his eyes, almost as if he hadn’t slept in a week. Her stare didn’t go unnoticed as Yato quickly patted his hair and forced a smile.

“Are you,” Hiyori began, about to say exactly what she had been thinking, but was cut off by the voice of her mother interrupting their encounter.

“Who’s this?” The question snapped both of their attention to Hiyori’s parents who stared at Yato with the curiosity of a hawk.

“Ah.” Hiyori threw a glance between Yato and her parents. If this was the first time they were meeting a bonafide wizard, they were in for a surprise.

“This is Yato, and these are my parents,” Hiyori said, shuffling nervously. She had left his name out of the letters, mainly because he was the cause of the trouble she got into.

“Oh, a friend of yours, dear?” Mr Iki said with a good-natured smile, unlike his wife who regarded Yato’s disheveled appearance the same way a teacher would with an unruly child.

Hiyori muttered a ‘yes’. I suppose we’re friends, she thought as she cast a glance at Yato who stood unusually quiet on the spot. After a beat of silence only filled by the sounds of the street, her mother spoke.

“What a… curious boy,” Mrs Iki didn’t hide the apprehensiveness in her voice, yet her choice of words was gentler than the ones she would’ve chosen had they just passed in the street.

“Wouldn’t you say, dear…”

Mr Iki’s short attention span had been snatched in this exchange when his wife tried to involve him in the conversation, the sight of a rundown second-hand store window compelling him to distractedly agree. With an idle farewell to Yato he tugged his wife’s hand to follow him to the shop window, perhaps to bicker over buying more padding to ‘protect their daughter’, though Hiyori doubted the dented helmets would do any protecting.

Just as Hiyori repressed a smile upon hearing the first complaints begin. She turned back to Yato, who looked less uncomfortable now they were gone.

“Well I won’t keep you.” Yato bowed his head slightly, gaze travelling as if distracted so that he could go on his way, wherever he was going.

Hiyori’s brow creased again when she looked at his appearance more closely, seeing the grime on his chin and the mud splatters which were almost invisible against the black cloth.

“Yato, is everything ok?” Hiyori asked, stepping in time with him as he took his first steps away.

Yato looked at her levelly, the wide smile that he had given her a few moments ago drastically reduced to a thin line.

“Peachy.” There was a tone of cynicism in his voice as he readjusted his bag on his shoulder, giving her parents another glance before starting to walk again with no farewell.

Hiyori watched him, robes flutter around his feet as quick paces took him up the thoroughfare.

“See you in September!” she called out to him.

Yato raised his hand in acknowledgment but didn’t bother turning, instead vanishing around the corner and out of sight.

Just like the first time Hiyori stepped onto Platform 9 ¾, there was a havoc of students sending whirling sparks of red, blue and white which fizzled and banged above her head.

The occasional shower of tattered paper with each collision of flare and paper butterflies which flitted around. Crumpled twists of paper lay scattered on the ground, revealing themselves to be broomsticks when they shuddered back to life and reshaped, only to begin jousting each other overhead and battering what looked like a rusted Knut in the stead of a Quaffle.

The pierced whistle of the Hogwarts Expressed drowned out Hiyori’s shout when she managed to see Yukine through the cluster of students and spilling heaps of luggage that waited to be loaded, but she managed to catch his shoulder in time before he vanished into the near-crowded train. She was met by a confused scowl at the sudden grab, but Yukine’s expression dissolved into a dorky smile the moment he saw Hiyori.

It turned out that Yato was already with him, holding the door of an empty carriage open and beckoning them over the squeals and shrieks of overexcited first years and lairy students who would wreak havoc in what would be their final year at Hogwarts.

Hiyori greeted Yato, deciding not to mention their encounter in Diagon Alley when Yukine exclaimed that they hadn’t seen each other in months. He was much cleaner than he was that day, dressed in his robes already and not as dishevelled as he normally would be. Perhaps she could ask about it in private.

They crashed into the cabin and shut the door to block the new wave of magical dangers, a summer of restricted magic finally crushed by shouts of ‘periculum’ and ‘relashio’ as students sent sparks flying and lit up the train as if it were Bonfire Night.

At exactly 11 o’clock the Hogwarts Express pulled away from the platform, gathering speed as it took its passengers out of London and replaced the stagnant scenery with rolling hills and lochs that carved rivers through the valleys.

Hiyori sat beside Yukine, with Yato opposite him next to the window just like they were when they returned to London. Nostalgia flooded through Hiyori as she remembered her first time on the Hogwarts Express, new friends cramming her head with knowledge and fantasies of the school she was going to. The Sorting seemed like it had only happened a few months ago rather than a year.

“This time last year we were going to get sorted,” Hiyori turned and nudged Yukine, to which he hummed and looked out of the window.

“I don’t remember seeing you, though,” Hiyori continued thoughtfully, undiscouraged by the lack of chat. Before Yukine could reply, Yato cut in.

“He’s like 4ft tall, of course you didn’t see him,” Yato breezed with an idle grin. Yukine didn’t bother turning, instead favouring to flip his middle finger at Yato.

“I thought Hufflepuffs were nice.” Yato grinned, leaning back further in his seat so his back was pressed into the corner, arms folded. “Still, I guess not all houses are like admired like mine.”

“No wonder you’re a Slytherin,” Yukine shot back, “you think you’re the best house.”

“Yes, but I was nearly a Gryffindor,” Yato said simply.

Yukine and Hiyori stared at him. A silence followed this revelation, neither of the pair knowing whether he was serious or not when he gave them a sly grin.

“What?!” Hiyori spluttered.

The very idea that Yato would be put in Gryffindor was alien to her. He certainly didn’t strike her as someone who would fit into her house as well as others. He and Bishamon were polar opposites, and it was clear she was a Gryffindor through and through. Surely that would put him in the house of their main rival?

“I chose Slytherin. The Sorting Hat couldn’t decide if I should go to Gryffindor or Slytherin, so I asked to be in Slytherin.” Yato explained this so plainly as if he were discussing the weather.

“Why the hell did you choose Slytherin?” Yukine asked, still doubtful even though he had heard that some students were given a choice of what house to be in. The Sorting Hat did take their choice into account.

“I want to be great.” He looked Yukine in the eye when he said this, evidently being honest at this proclamation.

Hiyori gave him a quizzical look. Great?

Yato’s eyes slid from Yukine’s to Hiyori, then back to the window. “The most powerful wizards have come from there, so it makes sense.”

“Evil,” Yukine cut in. That word was one of the most used descriptions of any wizard who is put into Slytherin, even if they weren’t necessarily bad.

“Powerful,” Yato corrected sharply. His eyes fixed on some point in the distance through the window when he lowly continued.

“No one is evil unless they’ve done something unforgiveable. I don’t think many eleven-year olds have done something bad enough to make them be put in a house supposedly tailored for those who would become dark wizards.”

The silence that spread over the cabin was infectious, Yato’s reasoning held some truth. How could the Sorting Hat see darkness in the heart of a child and decide that they would flourish in a house which favoured the Dark Arts? It would just be a breeding ground for psychopaths. ‘Evil’ was never stated as a quality that Salazar Slytherin desired, only ambition – which in turn could morph into something crazed and lustful that would make the brightest student turn their resourcefulness to darker means if it meant they could reach their goal.

The cogs in Hiyori’s mind put it all together – what it meant to be a Slytherin, and how Yato would fit into Gryffindor. The more she thought about it, the more traits matched up. Yato was an idiot – but a reckless one. Brave to the point of stupidity when it came to facing off against a mountain troll, daring enough to break into the library past curfew, and nerves to do whatever it takes to catch the Golden Snitch. Godric Gryffindor himself would be proud, but it looked like Yato’s own desire for ambition, and perhaps his cunning traits to meet his own ends, had thrown the Sorting Hat to let Yato choose his own house.

After the prolonged silence, Yato quietly spoke. “You don’t think I’m bad, do you?”

“No.”

Yato hummed quietly at the answer. Of course that was Hiyori’s immediate response, and Yukine’s too as he shook his head. Yato hadn’t done anything bad. Questionable, but not bad, and always to help them, be it facing off bullies, trolls, or helping with homework in his own way.

They were quiet for a long time before the awkwardness was broken by the arrival of the sweet trolley, allowing Yato to set a couple of chocolate frogs and jelly slugs free to make Hiyori shriek whilst Yukine blew multi-coloured bubbles of gum.

Maybe this year Hiyori would get over her fear of sweets.

The sun had completely sunk into the hills when the Hogwarts Express groaned to a stop at the small station of Hogsmeade. Like before, Kuraha rounded up the terrified first years and herded them towards the lake where they would make an impressive trek to the impossible castle-topped cliffs.

Unlike first years – who would take the longer scenic route to the castle –, the trio and the rest of the school made their short walk to the wrought iron entrance gate of the school grounds. Guarded by the statues of two winged boars, the same carriages that had taken them away from the castle a few months prior waited to take them back again. Yukine stuck nearly uncomfortably close to Hiyori’s side for the whole walk, only breaking away to clamber onto the nearest carriage and beckon Hiyori up beside him.

Yato looked cautiously at the space where a horse would be tethered to pull their carriage along, as if he could see something the others could not. With a sharp jolt once he had mounted the steep steps onboard, the carriage clattered on the trail towards to the castle.

Rocking and swaying over dry bracken and looking up at the darkened canopy of trees which hid the stars, Yato’s lips tugged into a small smile.

He was home.

#there we go #the discourse is officially explained in the fic #the reason why yato is slytherin and why its not a bias choice based on his past #*jazz hands*#noragami #noragami aragoto #yato #hiyori #yukine #hp au #harry potter au #in the darkness #my writing #also its 2am and im impatient to post cos shits bout to get real in a few chapters get lit

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