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Disclaimer: All rights belong to Marvel. I own nothing and no profit is being made.

oOoOoOo

Darcy yawned as she reached the halfway marker between home and the SHIELD base she had just left. Sometimes she didn't understand why she and Jane couldn't just fax their findings in. It would have been so much easier. But no, Coulson insisted that one of them deliver the papers in person. Just so we're certain had been Coulson's line of logic when, just an hour ago, she'd complained about having to drive all the way out there just to spend five minutes handing him the papers.

There were days when she really, really wanted to strangle that man.

She yawned again and had just started to reach for the radio, thinking some loud music might help her drousiness, when she noticed the clouds. They were shifting and glowing. Like when Thor had accessed the Bifrost. Her first thought was that he was final coming back. Stepping on the gas, she left the road, if it could even have been called that, and followed the clouds ever thankful for four-wheel-drive.

She briefly wondered why he wasn't being transported to the other spot. The one he and the others had left from but shook the thought off. That wasn't important. What was important was that Thor was back.

She kept watching the clouds and had just started to think maybe she was wrong when all hell broke loose. It was like a tornado of light and clouds and dust had just touched down. She screamed, jerked the wheel and steered blindly, hoping she'd make it out of this alive. It reminded her of when Thor had touched down that first time only this was much more violent. It had just started to clear when a figure appeared out of no where. She screamed and jumped the break, the truck swerved wildly before coming to a stop just short of the figure.

Darcy sat there, stunned, and tried to work out what had just happened.

The figure didn't move. Just stood there for a moment as though in a daze and then dropped. Darcy, squeaking in surprise and fear, hurried to get out of the truck. She rushed around to the front, completely uncertain what she was going to find, and all the while she kept muttering "Don't be dead, don't be dead."

As she knelt next to the figure she was a bit surprised to find a man lying crumpled in the dirt. Reaching out she carefully rolled the man over. She let out a soft sound when she realized he was breathing, softly but still breathing. "Okay, okay," she whispered, taking in his odd clothing. Clothing that instantly reminded her of Thor only this man's was much darker. "What do I do now?"

Her brain felt muddled and it took a minute to remember her cell phone. She could just call someone. Yes that's what she'd do. She'd call Coulson. Surely to God if anyone knew what to do it would be that uptight agent. She hurriedly checked her pockets only to remember her phone was sitting in the cup holder in the truck. She'd used it after leaving SHIELD to call Jane. Cursing faintly she started to stand only to let out a frightened squeak when a hand snared her wrist, holding her in place.

Looking down at the man she was stunned by his eyes. A shade of green she couldn't put a name they were fixed, all be it dazedly, on her face. They studied her closely. And for a brief moment Darcy felt like a bug under a microscope. Mentally shaking herself she told herself that this man needed her help. Not her fear. Drawing a deep breath she reached with her free hand and covered the hand wrapped tightly around her wrist.

"It's okay," she said softly, praying her voice sounded more confident than she felt. "I'm just going to call for some help, okay?"

"No…" The man's voice cracked, and for a moment she was certain she saw fear flash through his acidic eyes. "No one…can…know…"

Darcy frowned a bit and tried to think up a logical argue against not telling someone who could actually handle this situation but the longer she knelt there, staring into his eyes, the harder it became. "Okay," she said, giving in to the man request even though she knew she really should call for help. "Okay, I won't call anyone. But…But I can't just leave you here."

She looked towards the truck and back at the man. "Can you stand? Is…Is anything broken or too sore to move?"

The man twitched a bit and Darcy guessed he must have been testing his injuries. "I can…move…yes…"

"Alright, we'll…we'll do this slowly. Just in case."

The man merely nodded and released his grasp of Darcy's wrists. Moving slowly, just in case he had any serious injuries, she helped him to sit and then stand. He swayed on his feet and Darcy began to serious doubt she could help him walk. She barely stood five-foot-four. This guy was at least six-feet. If he went down he was taking her with him.

Helping the man walk turned out to be helping him shuffle as his legs didn't seem to want to cooperate with what he wanted to do. By the time she got him into the back of the truck she was amazed he hadn't fallen down. The second his back hit the bench seat he was out. Eyes shut and breathing evenly and deep. She stared at him for a minute before quickly climbing into the driver's seat and heading for home.

The drive was quiet except for his breathing and more than once she found herself reaching for her cell phone, thinking she'd call Coulson and get him to meet her somewhere to take the guy, but just as her fingertips brushed against the phone she yanked her hand away, remembering the man telling her no one could know. What exactly had he meant by that? No one could know he was here? No one could know what had happened in the desert?

Drawing a deep breath as she pulled up outside of the research center she noticed that Jane's Jeep was gone. Meaning her friend had problem headed out into the desert with Eric to check some blip on the weather radar. Which also meant she'd have to get the unconscious man in the back of the truck inside and up a set of stairs by herself.

"Great," she muttered, parking the truck and unbuckling her seatbelt. "Just great."

It took nearly an hour to get him inside and upstairs. He'd stumbled on the stairs, resulting in Darcy scraping her knee, but other than that it had gone quite smoothly.

Darcy was now standing next to her bed, staring down at the unconscious stranger, trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do. Logic dictated that she should call Coulson. Let him sort this out. But she just couldn't. She sighed, pushing a hand through her hair and decided that she should try and get the man into something a bit more comfortable than the leather outfit he was currently wearing. Searching the apartment level of the lab turned up a pair of black pyjama pants and a dark green t-shirt. She wasn't certain where they had come from but they would have to do. At least until the man was up and about.

It took her a while to get the man changed, being unaccustomed to changing the clothes of an unconscious person and all, and she knew her face was beat red by the end of it. As she folded the leather garments she looked back at the man. She frowned when she spotted her old sock monkey next to the man's head. It seemed to be staring at her with accusing eyes. Like she brought home strange men every time she went out to the SHIELD base.

Sighing faintly she walked over and snatched the childhood toy up, looking it dead in the eye as though it were a person. "You listen here, Mr Nanners," she whispered as she headed for the door. "This is not going to become a habit. No sir it is not. I usually taser strange men, remember? Not bring them home and let them sleep in my bed while I have to sleep on the lumpy couch in the living room. So just you remember Mr Nanners, this is a special case."

Darcy paused as she started to shut the door, looking back at the man. "Who are you," she whispered, staring at that pale face and dark hair. Shaking her head she shut the door hoping tomorrow would have some answers.
The first chapter of my story Changing of the Seasons.

Chapter Two:winchester-girl-sixx.deviantar…

So :iconpinkorpse: has a lovely piece of art inspired by this story (I've never had anyone inspired by my work before and am really excited and happy about this lovely piece of work):
I could give you the stars. by Pinkorpse

Story Art By Me:
Early Morning Work by LJ-Todd When SHIELD Calls by LJ-Todd Up To No Good by LJ-Todd
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Another Loki and Clint fanart.

Loki and Clint pictures from Google
Background stock from :iconro-stock:
Light texture from :iconshioon:

The Avengers (c) Marvel
Beside You lyrics (c) Marianas Trench
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The second version of my new wallpaper. (I personally like this one better than the first version)

Texture Credit:
Fire Ring (c) ~graphicavita
Sparkles (c) *DyingBeautyStock

Version One: [link]
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More The Hobbit daemon!AU art.

Blurb about Bilbo Baggins and his giant otter daemon, Nuala:

Most Hobbits had small daemons. Birds, cats, dogs. Daemons that an Outsider could very easily understand a Hobbit having. But Bilbo Baggins of Bag End was most certainly not most Hobbits. From a young age his Nuala had preferred taking forms that were considered large by Hobbit standards. For nearly a month she had remained in the form of a massive hound dog that had made little Bilbo look even littler. Folks said the daemon would eventually grow out of such habits, that she'd settle as something a good, respectable Hobbit would have.

Only that wasn't quite the case.

When she did settle, her form was large and when she stood on her hind legs she towered over Bilbo by nearly a foot-and-a-half. His mother had merely smiled and said there was a reason Yavaana had gifted him with such a daemon, even if the reason wasn't yet clear to him.

The night the Dwarves had come spilling into his house Nuala had hidden in his room, avoiding the strangers as she was want to do, given that most tendered to openly stare at her. Even when the journey began, when Bilbo joined the quest, Nuala moved with the group but at a distance, under the bushes and out of sight. At least until the night with the trolls. When the trolls had grabbed Bilbo, the Dwarves dropping their weapons to save their burglar, Nuala had launched herself from the bushes, attacking one troll, screeching like a banshee.

After the ordeal was over, the trolls turned to stone, Bilbo had sat for a while, fussing over Nuala who, after attacking the trolls, had been grabbed and thrown against the Dwarves. There were still slivers of pain wracking their bodies and Bilbo was doing his best to push them away with gentle touches and soft words.

He did not notice the looks the Dwarves continued to shoot his way, all curious about his daemon, though none yet had the courage to ask.


Nuala is an Gaelic name meaning "white shoulder"

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Blurb about John Watson and his tundra wolf daemon, Adine:

"Adine?" John looked around, searching for his daemon. "Adine? Where the heck are you?"

He searched the kitchen, the sitting room, upstairs and even the hallway but found no sign of his wayward daemon. He was standing in the sitting room when he realized where she was. He walked to Sherlock's room and, sure enough, found Adine curled up on Sherlock's bed, looking for all the world like a dog waiting for her master. "Adine..." his throat closed up as he lingered in the doorway. Six months and it still hurt like hell to be in this room.

"I miss them," Adine whined, pushing her nose under Sherlock's pillow even though the man's scent had long ago faded.

"Adine..." John quickly walked over, curling up next to his daemon, arms wrapping around her even as he buried his face in her fur. "I miss them too."

Adine whined again before unexpectedly lifting her head enough to howl mournfully. John pressed closer to her, hiding his tears of pain and grief in her fur. The loss of Sherlock and Kazimierz was worse than the gunshot wound. It was like someone had ripped some vital organ out.

John dug his fingers into Adine's fur and sobbed against her neck. Today was clearly going to be one of their bad days.


Adine is a Scandinavian name meaning "slender"

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More The Hobbit daemon!AU art.

Blurb about Thorin Oakenshield and his Northern Goshawk daemon, Tuwa:

As a young Dwarf Thorin would watch as Tuwa took form after form, trying every one she could, searching for the one that felt right. The one that she knew would be her. It was not until about the battle at Moria, when he lost both his grandfather and father, that Tuwa finally settled. It took him several days to notice and when he did it was with quite a bit of shock.

"You favour that form," he said as he looked at her, watching her perch upon the foot of the bed.

"I..." She looked away sharply and before she could find some logical reason, a reason other than the truth, he felt it through their bond. His eyes widened and he stared at her.

"Tuwa..."

"I didn't mean to!" Her shriek was loud and her feathers ruffled almost immediately. "I...I just...it was so easy...on the battlefield and...and then I couldn't...you needed me like this and I...I..."

She fell silent when his fingers gently stroked over her back, the touch soothing, even though she felt how unsettled he was by this, her final and truest form. Both knew it was very common for daemons of Elves and Men to take the form of birds but for a Dwarf, a child of mountain stone, it was hardly heard of. Even less heard of in the Durin Line. But, despite his slight disappointed that Tuwa had not settled as a more earth bound creature, Thorin was not truly bothered by her form.

A goshawk, a hunter, was a noble form for a prince's daemon. And she had proven herself strong in this permanent form. Especially in the battle against the Defiler.

A smile, small but warm, graced his face as Tuwa looked at him. "You are my heart and soul," he said softly, still stroking her feathers. "You are perfect."


Tuwa is a Native American Hopi name meaning "earth".

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And another piece of art for "Changing of the Seasons"

Story can be found here:
Chapter One: [link]
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Blurb about Sherlock Holmes and his steppe polecat daemon, Kazimierz:

"Did you truly think John was Moriarty?"

Sherlock went completely still, the bow posed over the strings of the violin, and he looked at his daemon, whom was currently perched on the mantle, next to the skull. "Kaz..."

"Don't try and avoid the question," Kazimierz said firmly, standing up on his hind legs to glare at Sherlock. "Did you truly think John was Moriarty?"

"You know I did."

Kazimierz made a soft clicking sound. "And if he had been?" The polecat fixed Sherlock with a stony glare. "What would we have done, Sherlock?"

Sherlock swallowed visibly and looked towards the stairs leading to John's room, where he knew John and Adine were only sleeping because Sherlock had drugged John's tea after they'd returned from that damnable swimming pool. When he finally looked at his daemon again, Sherlock's eyes were cold but firm.

"You know what we would have done, Kazimierz."

Kazimierz gave a slight nod before he climbed down from the mantle and disappeared from the room. Sherlock felt the slightest strain on their bond as his daemon slipped into John's room but ignored it as he returned to playing the violin. As the music filled the sitting room he thought about his daemon's question, all while knowing the answer he hadn't been able to voice aloud.

If John had turned out to be Moriarty then Sherlock would have done anything and everything to protect him. John and Adine meant too much to him and Kazimierz to do anything else.


Kazimierz is a Polish name meaning "commands peace"

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More The Hobbit daemon!AU art.

Blurb about Gandalf and his barred owl daemon, Archimedes:

"Stupid rain! Stupid complaining Dwarves! And stupid wizards who think they know what the hell they're doing!"

Gandalf tried to ignore his daemon's mutterings but after hours of listening to nothing but Archimedes' grouching the wizard had finally had enough. "Yes," he snapped suddenly, turning his head enough to glare at his daemon, who was perched on his shoulder, soaked from the rain. "And stupid little owls who don't know when to shut their beaks!"

Archimedes jerked at that, gaze narrowing as he tried to fluff himself up, failing due to his feathers being drenched. "You...You..." The little daemon shook his head, looking away, back towards Bilbo, who was looking at the bushes to his left, smiling slightly. "I think your Hobbit is cracked."

Gandalf glanced back, smiling knowingly. "At least someone enjoys the rain."

Before Archimedes could respond to that one of the Dwarves began complaining about the rain again. "Stupid Dwarf," the little owl daemon muttered, trying in vain to shake some of the rain from his feather.


Archimedes is a Greek name meaning "pondering"

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The Hobbit daemon!AU art.

Blurb about Balin and his canary daemon, Daibhi:

He stood and watched as she fluttered over head, her delicate wings carrying her higher and higher, until their bond allowed her to go no further. A smile spread across his face as he watched her, his heart and soul, fly freely above him, singing her little song. There had been a time, oh so long ago, when he'd thought it a cruel twist of fate that he, a proud Dwarf, should have his daemon settle as a bird. But now he knew how kind fate had been. If Daibhi had not been a canary she never would have been able to fly high enough to see the danger coming the day Smaug took the Lonely Mountain. She wouldn't have been able to warn Thorin.

Balin's smile widened as he watched Daibhi come down from her dizzying heights, only to fly ahead of them, twittering softly as she swirled around Thorin, who watched her with a rare, amused smile. She continued this for a moment before returning to Balin, perching upon his shoulder and rubbing her tiny head against his cheek, singing softly.

Yes, fate had been kind in gifting Daibhi's final form, even if it was not always apparent why.


Daibhi is an Irish name meaning "beloved"

Blurb about Dwalin and his bobcat daemon, Mysie:

Her eyes glittered in the firelight and Dwalin barely looked up when she slowly began to move, only feeling her curiosity as she attempted to slink, unnoticed, around the fire to where Ori and his daemon, Pesha, were sitting. Even without looking up he knew that's what she was doing. Moving towards the young Dwarf and daemon. Reaching out, without taking his eyes from his bowl of stew, his fingers tangled in the fur at the nape of her neck, silently pulling her back.

When she looked at him, glared really, he shook his head, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "You'll only frighten them again, My."

Her tail, stumpy as it was, flicked in annoyance, her gaze easily sliding to Ori and Pesha. She looked slowly back at him and her feline eyes spoke of her displeasure at being denied something she, something they, wanted. But when he released his hold she did not try again, merely curled around his feet and tried to content herself with watching the young Dwarf and his daemon.



Mysie is a Scottish name meaning "pearl"

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