#shadowsurrounded

              shaken hands are put in front of her eyes --- blocking her vision, as magicks swirl about the two of them. leaning down slightly he’d murmur,   “   guess who?   ”   with a mischievious grin, as he shadowed her; standing behind her, while he used magic to change his clothes into something more suitable for the snow.

              HE LOOKED to be an odd one out in this world’s dark dimension, a place he usually would never willingly go. clad in his modern-esque gear the sorcerer supreme simply explored, taking note of the differences and similarities of the dimension in comparison to his own. it was only in the darkness did he see something --- someone, akin to a ray of light, dispersing the heavy darkness around.. oh.

wordlessly he slowed to a stop, floating comfortably among the debris as he all but stared; she wasn’t.. a part of the plan, coming here. wordlessly he stared, his eyes somewhat wide as he took in her sight.   “   i seem to have taken a wrong turn,   ”   he lamely began, floating back a ways to give himself space --- fully prepared to simply flee, to save himself the heartache trouble.

              blond halo golden and stark against backdrop of inky night. irritation where otherwise features of benign gentility rest, circumstances propelling her to the threshold of one she would rather never see. ❛      let’s not read too much into this. i just need a place to stay and you’re close by.       ❜ slender arms fold, posture definition of the antagonist, defensive even in their state of passive rest. 

           ❛      so your friend managed to negotiate a deal with dormammu? flaming giant head purveyor of all evil in the entire dark dimension dormammu? you’re not serious.       ❜

              a reassurance as completely unexpected as nearly everything he does, yet it still manages to soften her heart in the newest and strangest of ways. clear eyes find his mismatched, a teasing edge to them as slender fingers wrap around stephen’s own. clea gives a quizzical tilt of her head, a smile threatening to curve rose lips. ❛      very philosophical, beloved.       ❜

[amélie you can’t make this angsty-watch me motherfucker]

              she would be the most proficient of liars to say he isn’t handsome. it’s something of a relief, shallow and ridiculous though it may be, to know that at least one of them would maintain their good looks well into old age. however, there remains a very real obstacle here, more than just the very strong odor of alcohol. they are not the same people. this stephen is not her stephen, the stephen she’s come to love recently, the stephen she falls for more and more with every passing day. and she is not his clea, the one on his dimension with who knows how many millennia of history and love and heartache between them. so she, this version, does the responsible thing and leans away from his advances, gingerly touching a finger to his lips. ❛      wrong dimension, stephen.       ❜ clea offers him a thin smile ( she is not sadistic, and she knows that she’s the spitting image of the real object of his affections ) and gently takes his hand in her’s ( she is not heartless, and she knows he’s hurting ), before ducking her head to give him a very brief kiss on the cheek. and with that, she disentangles herself from him and stands, because if he is anything like her version he gets unbearably parched when hammered. 

“Well, well, well... What brings you to my realm, my dearest niece?”

   His tone is dripping with venom. For a time, she may have held dominion over his Dark Dimension, but her reign was a farce. Dormammu had long since bound his Faltinian form to the energies of the Dimension itself. It sustained him, and in turn, he sustained it. It had become a part of him, and to assume that anyone other than he could rule it was folly.