Adult-FanFiction.org : Marvel 'Verse

Witchy Woman OR Save a Broom - Ride a Witch	By : WolverMean Category: X-men Comics > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1877 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men or any of the characters from the Marvel universe. I'm making no money from the publication of this story--it's strictly for fun.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
I put a spell on you
because you’re mine
Stop the things you do
Watch out, I ain’t lying
I love you, I love you
I love you anyhow
I don’t care if you don’t want me
I’m yours right now
I put a spell on you
Because you’re mine
Mine
Mine
- I Put a Spell on You by Screamin’ Jay Hawkins

“You idiot!” Addanc yelled as he kicked at the dirt in front of Mervin. “You were supposed to put the favour in my pocket, not that … hairy little weasel’s!”
Flecks of decades old dust and grime spotted the skeleton from the air, making him clatter indignantly.
“We do not all look alike, you sad sack of osseous matter! Use your bloody eyes!” Addanc snarled.
Mervin clacked defensively, his frame straightening slightly, and the other man turned away, thrusting a hand through his brown curls.
“I know you don’t have literal eyes, you useless twat; that’s not the damn point,” the lake monster hissed, pounding his fist against the brick. “The point was to bind August to me. Instead she’s bound to that disgusting ape!”
Addanc turned away from Mervin and began to pace, his hands in his hair, clenching the strands tightly. The skeleton had royally fucked up beyond belief. It wasn’t that hard to slip a bright purple party blower into a pocket, was it? Damn the fact that he had to rely on Mervin, the pisser of the Ambrosius brothers, but whom else could he have asked?
Addanc was practically persona non grata in the magic realm. If it wasn’t for the thin shred of sympathy he held onto for the unspeakable heinous act committed against him in the past, he would’ve been cast out eons ago. As it was, he was pretty much confined to his own lair, not allowed to wander the supernatural dimension freely. In order to visit, he needed a minder, like he was a bloody toddler who couldn’t be trusted to keep his hands to himself.
Any iota of pity and compassion Addanc had working in his favour would surely evaporate the second it got out that he had tried to bind August. He could try to spin it to his benefit, claim that Mervin did it without provocation; the perpetually soused skeleton wasn’t much higher on the good list than he was. It was a plan that could easily float, but Mervin did have the ear of Merlin and the wizard had the ear of Monday and well … that just wouldn’t do.
Anyone he knew who could break the binding spell would rather turn themselves into toads than help Addanc, but there had to be someone who he hadn’t pissed off or pissed on or—
Mervin started up his infernal rattling, halting Addanc’s pacing. “Shut up, you contemptible bag of cartilage! There’s nothing you can say that would—wait, repeat that,”
The skeleton clattered again, slower this time, and Addanc couldn’t help the wicked smile that spread across his face.
“Mervin, that’s probably the smartest thing your futile femurs have ever rattled,” he said breathlessly. “I could kiss you!”
The skeleton tilted left ever so lightly.
“No, you fool; not really.”
Addanc ignored the disappointed look on Mervin’s skull as he stalked away. That was another can of worms he didn’t have time to reopen.
The undead were just so damned needy.

“What?” Logan’s confusion was palpable. The fight or flight urge was pulsing inside of his veins, his claws itching to pop. “What the hell do you mean ‘how do I feel about magic’?”
The cat twitched his tail, irritated. “It is a simple question: good or bad?”
Logan glanced from Monday to August to Merlin. “To be blunt, I hate magic and all its weird, wacky woo-woo shit.”
“Excellent,” Monday replied. He walked back towards the bed and leapt gracefully onto it, wrapping his tail around August’s wrist. “Come here, please,”
Slowly, he approached, still unsure what was happening. Merlin looked shell-shocked, his gaze fixed on the purple party favour, August was unconscious again, and the cat was getting awfully fucking bossy—for a cat.
Once Logan was close enough, Monday touched a paw to his wrist. “I know you are apprehensive but I promise answers will be forthcoming once we are finished here,” the cat said. “Time is of the essence right now and if you wish to help August, you must do as I ask.”
“A glass of cold water to the face usually wakes ‘em right up,” Logan muttered.
Monday spared a glance at August and he saw nothing but love and pain in the feline’s gaze. “I have never been one to beg, Logan,” said Monday softly. “I have never seen the point in imploring for something I could easily get on my own, but this is not something I can do by myself; love is much more complicated than a single being or the most powerful of magic.
“I am begging for August, for her life. Please help me save her and I will be in your debt for as long as I draw energy.”
The sincerity and the heaviness in Monday’s words made Logan’s chest clench. He understood the cat’s plight, the willingness to do anything to save someone so loved, so cherished. Images of Mariko and Jean flashed in his head, their memories bringing the familiar ache to his heart.
Years of reflection on their losses always brought the same result: if there had been someway—anyway—to save Mariko and Jean, even if it meant begging a stranger for help, he would have done it.
He knew that love. He knew that loss. He knew that pain. He would do anything to stop anyone from falling into that void.
Logan took a deep breath and looked in Monday’s wide yellow eyes. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
Monday’s relief was tangible. “Place your hand on hers,” the cat said.
“That’s it?” Logan said. “Seems pretty ea—“
The second their flesh met, it was as if he was lifted above the Earth, above the troposphere, above the stratosphere, above the mesosphere, above the thermosphere, and above the exosphere to beyond where even the stars existed.
Heat licked at his skin but didn’t burn, water doused him but didn’t make him wet, air pressed against him but didn’t crush him, filling his lungs to capacity, and dirt buried him deep, but didn’t suffocate him.
Logan’s hand broke through the crust of earth first and he felt something grip him. He pushed his body as the other pulled with all its might until he was free, crawling from the soil until he was on his hands and knees, breathing out the oxygen that had burned in his chest. It hadn’t crossed his mind once to use his claws.
His face and eyes were coated in dirt and there were suddenly fingers touching him, brushing the grime from his vision. He grabbed at them, catching the digits in his grip, and when he opened his eyes, he saw who was trying to help.
“Logan,” August said quickly, her voice low, “I’m sorry. Please know I didn’t want this. I wasn’t trying to force you—“
“It’s okay,” he said, wiping spittle and muck from his mouth. He tried to get to his feet but stumbled, a bit dizzy from his magical mystery tour of the universe. She caught him under the elbow and let him lean against her. It felt nice to be close to her.
August was wearing a white, knee length, off the shoulder shift that revealed the delicious peachy creaminess of her skin. The sleeves were long, flowing down to her fingertips, and a lengthy black leather strap was tied around her waist. There were no shoes on her feet and a simple silver circlet around her head.
“Where am I?” Logan asked, August’s arm still firm and supportive around his waist.
She looked around and huffed out a breath that sounded almost like a laugh. “It’s a little something Monday whipped up,” she said. “He likes to be dramatic.”
A warm chuckle came from behind them. “As I recall, dear one, my dramatics is one of the things you love about me,” said a deep, rich baritone.
August and Logan turned.
The man was dressed in knee high buckskin boots with matching breeches and donned a white wolf fur vest; he wore nothing under the vest, exposing his muscular chest and arms. Silver white hair fell in a braid to his waist and multiple leather necklaces decorated with various sigils graced his throat. Logan caught his gaze and his yellow eyes flickered to a bright, electric blue.
“Monday?” His voice held so much uncertainty, the taller man dissolved into genuine laughter, clutching his stomach as he double over.
“Yes,” Monday replied, once he had sobered up, wiping tears of amusement from his eyes. “I often forget that my true form is quite a bit different from my feline one. August is the only one who really sees me in this body anymore,” He smiled and reached out to her. She smiled and stepped away from Logan, her small hand engulfed by his large one.
They were an odd pairing; Monday was so tall and strapping and August was so diminutive and buxom, but when he looked down into her eyes and touched her cheek gently, there was no mistaking the love that crackled between them.
Monday pressed a brief kiss to August’s lips and turned towards Logan.
“Logan, I cannot express my sincere gratitude for what you are about to do,” the man said earnestly, emotion high in his voice. “In saving August, you are also saving my life, for I do not know what I would do without her,”
Monday motioned Logan closer and he went, his eyes never leaving the tall, powerful man in front of him. Monday took Logan’s hand, placed August’s in it, and clasped them tightly together with both of his own. He then tilted his head up towards the endless, star-filled sky.
“May these hands be blessed this day,” Monday intoned, his deep voice booming out over eternity. “May they always hold each other. May they have the strength to hang on during the storms of stress and the dark of disillusionment. May they remain tender and gentle as they nurture each other. May they build a relationship founded in love, and rich in caring. May these hands be healer, protector, shelter, and guide for each other. This union has been blessed and witnessed by the elements of Earth, Air, Water, and Fire,”
He squeezed their hands gently, a small smile on his face. “The Moon shines his light upon this union and I shall continue to let these souls shine as I shine; this I vow.”
Monday released their still clasped hands, letting out a glow of silver light that streaked up and away, past the stars, past the planets, past every living creature that had ever drawn breath.
Logan felt warmth pool in his stomach and slowly, evenly, it began to spread, surging and moving towards August. It flowed from his hand to hers, like a smooth pour of honey. Once that was finished, an intense, voltaic sensation spilled from August’s hand into his, the sweet buzz working its way through his body until it suddenly ceased, leaving an empty silence within him. Then, gradually, the sound of his heartbeat began to fill his ears again, the steady lubdub of its rhythm an abrupt comfort.
A wonderful pulling sensation turned his gaze towards August, who was watching him curiously, and was as if a giant breath was released and all of the tension left his body, leaving Logan relaxed for the first time in a long time.
Monday clapped his hands and stepped back. “The union is complete,” he said. “August, you now have a consort.”
Logan blinked, confused. “Wait,” he said. “Did we just get married?”

Addanc leaned back, confident in the plan he had delivered.
The silence that followed—that soon stretched into minutes—started to make him sweat, unpleasantly so. He always smelled fishy when he got sweaty.
Perhaps he had been foolish and desperate to go this route—stupid Mervin, that useless pile of bones. It was his fault Addanc was in this mess in the first place. Then again, if he himself hadn’t torched all of his magical bridges along the way, he wouldn’t have had to rely on Mervin, and then when Mervin predictably screwed up, he wouldn’t have had to turn to—
“This is a very imprudent boon you have disturbed me with,” Loki Laufeyson said, his long fingers steepled under his sharp chin. “The romantic endeavours of mortals bores me and I find the amorous desperation of water monsters even less interesting,”
The tall, lanky Asgardian got to his feet, stretching out to his full six foot, four inch height. His impossibly green eyes flicked about Addanc’s lair, the distaste etched on his face.
“Though I must thank you for a pleasant outing. Your place is … impressively damp,” he said with an air of finality. Loki brushed a droplet of water from the fabric of his grey pea coat and looked about for the exit. “Please forgive my abrupt departure, but—actually, I don’t care.”
Addanc could feel his fishy little heart sink like an anchor in the ocean of his chest. Loki had been his last hope, a desperate shot in the unpredictable dark and it had been a complete miss. He stood, defeated, watching as the god looked around none to desperately for a way out.
“Do you not have doors in this place?” Loki demanded. “How do you get out of here?”
“Magic,” said Addanc dully. “You have magic here, don’t you?”
“Well, yes,” Loki huffed, “but it is muted on this godless planet. You brought me here, fish man, so get me out!”
The Asgardian’s words lit a small spark of hope in the Welsh lake monster’s waterlogged chest.
“Your power is muted here?” Addanc scoffed. “Imagine having limitations on your magics. How inane,”
Loki paused and turned his gaze towards him. “It is no different than your precious August,” the god jeered. “She needs ties to this world for her powers to work. I do not; they are only not as strong here, that is all.”
Addanc tried to still the hammering of his heart as he spoke. “But what if your powers weren’t dampened?” he said carefully. “What if August’s connection to this world gave you the ability to use your magic fully and without complication?”
The Asgardian’s body tensed slightly and he turned towards Addanc. “What do you mean, fish man?”
Addanc unclenched his jaw. “First of all, I’m a lake monster, not a fish man,” he explained with a forced smile. “Second of all, what I’m saying is that if you help me become August’s consort, she will be fully powered with my ties to Earth. I will grant you access to her energies, which will be easy to do since both you and she are biological jötnar,”
Loki took in a sharp breath, his eyes going distant. “I forgot that she was jötunn,” he whispered gleefully.
“Whenever you are on Earth,” Addanc continued, not bothering to keep the pride from his voice, “you will be able to tap her magic and use it to boost yours to full power,”
The god’s gaze was suddenly on him, burning in its intensity.
Addanc’s smile was cruel. “You know she will be slaughtered if she sets foot in either Asgard or Jötunheim,” he said as Loki nodded. “If you remove her from Earth, she’ll die. She will still be dependant on Máni and needs to remain where he is close enough to return to her on occasion.”
Another moment of silence fell and for a few seconds, Addanc thought he’d overstepped his bounds with the god, but instead of smiting, Loki began laughing.
“I like this plan,” he said, summoning his staff. “I will assist you in its completion,”
The Asgardian looked around again as Addanc kept his celebration internal, his attention focused. “Now, how in the seven hells do we get out of here?”

Logan was pacing back and forth in August’s living room, clenching and unclenching his hands. He wasn’t sure if he was angry or not because he wasn’t sure if he’d been tricked or not.
He was turning into such a nice fucking guy, agreeing to help a few people in distress was second nature, but when he consented, he thought it meant going on a mystical journey across several planes of existence to rescue August’s soul, not to join to her in holy matrimony.
Well, not holy matrimony—or maybe not even matrimony? Hell, Logan didn’t even know what the fuck had just happened, except for now he was August’s consort. He shoved his hands through his air, agitated. Monday said explanations would be forthcoming, but now the cat seemed to have pleaded the fifth while he consulted with Merlin upstairs.
“Logan, please sit down. You’re making me nervous.” August’s voice was gentle and soothing and it slid along his skin like silk, light and airy.
Woah, when did that shit start fucking happening? August was a nice looking woman, but his reaction to her was way deeper than for two people who had only watched one hockey game. Logan could understand if it was the playoffs, but come on.
He ignored her and continued to pace, balling his hands into fists to keep from popping his claws. All he’d meant to do was pick up a book for the Cajun and now he was involved in the same ancient, magical woo-woo shit he’d promised himself to avoid. If anyone should be the woman’s consort, it should be Gumbo.
Speaking of, maybe the slick bastard had some way to weasel out of this thing. Remy LeBeau was not only a master thief but he was ace at detaching himself from sticky situations involving women. As far as Logan was concerned, this situation was the stickiest and he could use a little—or a lot—of the Cajun’s famed luck right about now.
Logan stalked into the kitchen and, when it was clear August wasn’t following him, pulled out his cell. A few pushed buttons later and Gambit was on the other end of the line.
“Bonjour, Logan,” Remy greeted pleasantly. “Can’t help but notice you’re not at home, eh? Things going well with August?”
Normally, Logan would have played off the Cajun’s obvious insinuations, but he truly was not in the mood at the moment. “Yeah,” he snapped, “so well that I just fuckin’ married her.”
The silence in the other end of the line was deafening. “You’re playin’ me, right?” The other man was incredulous. “You pullin’ ol’ Remy’s leg?”
“What the hell did you get me into, Gumbo?” Logan growled. “I was only supposed to pick up a book for you, not become a goddamn consort.”
“I only thought you’d get along,” Remy said defensively. “Maybe get naked, release some o’ dat tension you been carryin’ around, homme. I mean, you like hockey, she like hockey—“
“Yeah, the Oilers,” Logan hissed. “Who likes the Oilers? Nobody, that’s who! They had their heyday in the ‘80s with Gretzky, Kurri, Messier, and Coffey—hell, even the goalie Fuhr—but, shit, it’s time to move on—“
“Logan,” Remy’s voice cut through his tirade, “I’m sure dis would be a very interestin’ conversation at literally any other time, but I need you to stay focused here; tell me what’s goin’ on.”
“Is that Remy on the phone?” August asked from the kitchen entrance.
Logan whirled to face her and managed to keep his face neutral by giving her a terse nod. She had her arms wrapped around herself, the pullover she’d donned sweeping her knees. She looked tired; resigned.
“Tell him to come,” she said, turning to go. The she hesitated and faced him. “By the way, how many Stanley Cups do the Flames have?
“One.”
“How many do the Oilers have?”
“Five,” he muttered.
August cupped her hand around her ear. “I’m sorry; I didn’t hear you. How many Stanley Cups do the Oilers have, Logan?”
“Five.” Logan repeated, louder this time.
She turned away, tossing the next few sentences over her shoulder. “That’s right, cowboy: FIVE. They lead all other NHL teams in terms of winning playoff percentage, so suck it.”
Logan sighed in defeat as soon as she was gone.
“Damn mec, dat was stone cold,” Remy said with awe. Then his voice was suddenly suspicious. “You sure you married her accidently?”

Logan came from the kitchen, his cell clenched in his hand.
August opened her mouth to speak, to soothe him somewhat, but the look he gave her murdered the words in her throat. He was upset and rightfully so.
He’d agreed to help her without fully knowing what the terms were and now he was trapped in something he didn’t completely understand. He paced for a few minutes before sitting heavily in one of the armchairs.
August could feel what Logan was going through—he was confused—not only by what had happened but also by the sudden rush of feelings he was having for her. She had to give him credit; he wasn’t trying to fight them, just understand them. She wanted to bring him some form of relief, make him feel like he hadn’t been tricked into something.
“The hand fasting ceremony Monday performed isn’t permanent,” August said suddenly. Logan’s dark blue eyes focused on her face. She felt herself flush, as if she were a giddy schoolgirl with an asinine crush. It was just the spell, she reminded herself. “I just—wanted you to know that,” she finished lamely.
Logan didn’t respond, his eyes still on her. It felt like he was studying her; she tried to keep it together under his scrutiny but could feel herself starting to shake.
“Why?” Logan asked abruptly. “Why me? Why not Merlin?”
“Because I would’ve died without a consort and it couldn’t be Merlin because he’s not of Earth. It needed to be someone tied to this plane, and to be honest, you were there,” she said. “I’m truly sorry this happened, Logan, but I promise it’s only temporary.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair. “What can I do for you that Monday can’t?”
She rubbed her hands over her knees, a nervous gesture. “Monday and I are from two different realms, ones that hated each other. We were banned from either world because of our union, but Monday’s god was kind enough to give him something he could draw power from, and that’s your moon.
“As long as people worshipped the moon, he could draw power, and I drew power from Monday. Now that the human race is turning away from old traditions and gods, his power is fading and he needs to spend more time away from me. Without access to magic—“
“You’ll die,” Logan said.
“Yes.”
They were silent for a few minutes, Logan contemplating what he’d just heard.
“I’m not magical,” he said. “I don’t have power like Monday does.”
August rubbed her knees again but before she could speak, Monday trotted down the stairs to bump against her legs affectionately.
“That is not true,” the cat said. “Logan, you have an animalistic side and that side is connected to nature and Earth, just as I am to the moon. You may not be able to use that magic per se, but it can be accessed by someone like August,”
“That’s why having Addanc as a consort would work? Because as a lake monster, he’s also connected?”
Monday nodded. “Yes, he’s linked with the element of Water as you are with Earth,” he said. “ I do promise that this is only until we have dealt with Addanc, then August and I shall release you from the hand fasting and any obligation you have to us. However, I will be upfront and say the addition of an enchantment spell complicates things. Merlin has taken the item away to study it. We will find a solution.”
Logan looked from August to Monday and then back again. His hands slowly unclenched and he leaned forward with a sigh, shoving his hands through his hair. “Okay,” he said. “This is starting to make sense. I just … need a few days to process what’s going on.”
“That’s fair,” August said, reaching down to stroke Monday but felt Logan’s eyes on her. She snatched her hand back and crossed her arms, leaning away from Monday.
Touching her husband, even in cat form, in front of her consort seemed … wrong, like she was blatantly flirting with another man. She knew she was being silly; Monday had given them his blessing, but it didn’t feel right.
“All of the emotions and urges you both are feeling will lessen after the first time you partake in coitus,” the cat said, a matter-of-factly, rubbing a paw over his ear.
“Monday!” August could feel the heat rush to her face, her cheeks burning from embarrassment.
“What?” he asked, curling a tail around her calf. “Sexual congress is important between consorts. It helps strengthen the bond.”
“You and August are husband and wife,” Logan said, his voice strangely even.
Monday licked his paw. “This is true, but I will tell you the same thing I told her: I would rather share her with another man that I trust than have her die. Would you not make the same choice for someone you love?”
Logan rubbed his hands over his thighs with a deep exhale. August could see his mind turn inward, his face serious. He was obviously thinking about people he cared for.
“Yes.”
“I would do this and much more to keep August alive and away from Addanc,” Monday said seriously. “I would kill her myself if it meant keeping her out of the grips of that lecherous and hateful fish.”
“Monday,” she said softly, placing a hand on his back. He was vibrating with rage, his whiskers twitching like mad.
“I wish I could explain the honour you do me by being consort to my dear one, Logan,” the cat said. “Knowing she is safe from him gives me hope,”
“Is that why everything was done so quickly?” Logan asked.
Monday sat, curling his tail around his feet. “When August was unconscious, it made her vulnerable to certain kinds of attacks that I could not stop and I did not want Addanc to take advantage of that. Besides, you two were bound together, so that certainly helped speed things along.”
The image of the purple party blower popped into his head. “Yeah,” he said. “Explain that.”
“First of all, I want to make it abundantly clear that I’m not trying to solicit any sort romantic feelings from you,” August said, her tone genuine. “Addanc is … jealous is not quite the right word.”
“Jealous is exactly the right word,” Monday said acidly, leaping onto the couch. “Jealous and possessive and obsessive.”
She placed a calming hand on the cat and he pressed himself tightly against her, but he was still vibrating with outrage, his whiskers twitching. He was kneading the fabric of the couch quite intensely, his claws puncturing the fabric audibly.
“What we believe is that he had Mervin spell the blower with the intention of slipping it to him during their next visit,” August said. “Addanc would need to have it on his person the next time we touched in order for the enchantment to work. He must’ve known something was wrong when he handed me Louis’s money,”
“I guess that explains the jolt I felt when August touched my arm; that was the spell taking effect?” Logan said thoughtfully.
“Exactly,” August said. “Because you somehow ended up with the party favour, it was transferred to you and the first person to touch you.”
“Penelope touched me when I was at the store,” Logan said. “Why didn’t it work with her?”
Monday’s tail twitched and Logan would swear an amused smile touched the cat’s lips. “Since Penelope is a daemon, this kind of enchantment would have no effect,” he said. “Though I am sure she tried.”
“She was really over me,” he said, “pushing against me when she was in cat form.”
“Yeah,” August smiled. “She was trying,”
“That means she knew I had a spelled item. Why didn’t she say anything?” Logan asked.
Monday and August exchanged glances. “I think that’s another conversation for another day,” she said as the doorbell rang. “That must be Remy.”
She went to the door, but something didn’t feel right; it felt oddly heavy on the other side, the weight practically pushing through, pressing on her. It had to be Remy though; they weren’t expecting anyone else.
August opened the door cautiously—and couldn’t help the scream that wrenched from her throat.
The opposing figure of Loki Laufeyson and the smaller, less imposing Addanc waited for her on the other side. The god smiled at her, as if he had just discovered a precious child doing something adorable. The Welsh lake monster was staring hungrily at her, a sick lust burning in his coal dark eyes.
Frantically, she began etching wards onto the doorjamb, anything spell she could remember that kept out the evil and unwanted. Tears streamed unbidden down her face.
“You silly woman,” Loki chastised, with a patronising smile. “Your silly diagrams won’t keep me out. I know you have no magic left in that soft little body,”
Monday skidded to a stop behind August with a loud growl. “She may not,” his voice impossibly loud and booming, “but I do.”
“Monday,” August gasped, “No!”
Logan was ready to leap, but a wave of Loki’s hand rooted him to the spot, and they both could only watch as Monday transformed into his true self, his large, strong hands reaching out, gripping each side of the doorjamb, blocking August from their view. She continued to trace strange shapes, not hesitating for a second.
“Máni,” Loki exclaimed delightedly, clapping his hands as if he were greeting a long lost friend. “How wonderful to see you! And now that I have, you have broken the agreement you entered into with the All-Father. Guards should be here to arrest you—“ A beam of golden light appeared and two giant, muscular men dressed in complicated armour stepped out “—now.”
The guards grabbed Monday, who did not fight, and the three vanished in another blast of golden light. She felt her heart drop as soon as she no longer sensed his presence on Earth.
Once they were gone, Loki turned his attention to August, who was still feverishly etching, and touched the tip of a long, graceful finger to her chin, tilting her head up towards his.
It was only when their eyes met that her desperate actions stopped.
“As for you, little jötunn, we shall be seeing you at the tribunal, yes?” Loki said, his voice sickly saccharine. “That is, of course, if you’re allowed on Asgardian land. Oh wait, you’re not. How callous of me! Whatever shall you do?”
He dropped his finger quickly and slapped August across the face, her head jerking hard to the side. “You make me sick,” he hissed. “I cannot wait to see you die.”
Addanc looked as if he was the one who had been slapped. “No,” he protested. “That wasn’t the—“
“Quiet,” Loki demanded, not taking his gaze from August. “You will pay for what you’ve done, little jötunn.”
The god turned to go, his hand out to push Addanc along with him, when August’s hoarse voice stopped him in his tracks.
“You are no better than me,” she panted, wiping blood from her mouth. “We are both jötnar, Loki; never forget that.”
He whirled back to face her, the second strike knocking her to the ground. “You do not have the right to speak my name, filth!” Loki yelled, spittle flying from his lips. “We are not the same! WE ARE NOT THE SAME!”
His face was twisted in fury, and for a second, August waited for Loki to strike her down, to end her life. With Monday gone, she would gladly go, but a brief spark lit in her: Logan. She reached out to him and grabbed tight.
The god leaned forward and spat on her face, the wet glob of phlegm acid on her skin. August didn’t wince or move to wipe it away even though it was burning her.
“You remember that, jötunn,” Loki voice was filled with promises of terror and horror. “We are not the same nor will we ever be.”
In a wave of Loki’s arm, he and Addanc were gone. August quickly wiped his spit from her, feeling the burn it had left behind. Logan, now released from the stone spell rushed to her, sliding his arms under her shoulders to help her up. Instead of getting to her feet, she buried her face in his chest and broke into heart-wrenching sobs, her hands clutching his shoulders.
Monday was well and truly gone and she couldn’t find him anywhere. All was hopeless now; all was broken beyond repair.
“What’s goin’ on?” Remy’s concerned voice broke through her cries.
Logan pulled her close and stroked her hair, letting her cry as he looked up to Remy. “You got a car?”
“Oui,” replied the Cajun.
“Good,” he said, picking August up in his arms. “We’re going to Avengers Tower.”
“You gon’ pay for gas?”
“Cram it, Gumbo. You owe me.”
Remy sighed and pulled out his car keys. “You could at least pitch in a little,” he said. Logan growled at him and he threw his arms up. “All right, all right. Jesus, it’s like Remy’s made o’ money all of a sudden.”
“You are made of money,” Logan said. “Need I bring up the Chicago heist—“
“Shut up an’ get in da car,” Remy snapped. “Y’know, for a man of few words, you talk too much.”
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Witchy Woman OR Save a Broom - Ride a Witch