#have gotten Permission to work through the night so i should be able to take both finals tomorrow

[theonlythingimfuckingisstupid]

officially over half done with my math class !

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

I love your work I got a request for Tommy Shelby

So you are tommy daughter or the youngest Shelby sister and u are 2 years old

And Arthur or John or Finn is looking after u and u get sick and tommy’s not home at the moment so she just cries until he gets home no matter how hard the others try to console her and then when he gets home and he holds you stop crying and fell asleep hope that make sense

Hey love! Of course i can do this request for you!

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR TRANSLATION OR POSTING ON A DIFFERENT SITE.

Summary: request above.

{Y/N}: Your name.

Word count: 1,023.

Once Finn was born, the Shelby clan felt like the family was complete, they hoped their parents would stop having children since they were barely looked after by them.

However, just under two years after Finn Shelby was born, [Y/N] Shelby entered the world. The second daughter of Arthur Shelby and youngest sister to the Shelby brothers.

Since she was born, she had a handful of health issues, ranging from constant illnesses to developmental delays. This caused her to look younger then she is and resulted in Polly becoming very cautious of going outside with the young girl. When [Y/N} was taken outside, Tommy and Polly would make sure she had on at least three layers.

However, the winter had been brutal on the young girls body, it had snowed for the first time in ten years in Birmingham, and like any other child {Y/N} wanted to go outside and play with the the playful swirling snowflakes coming down from the sky. Polly knew it wasn't safe but the young girl was growing and seeing snow in Birmingham was a rare occasion. She let {Y/N] go outside for ten minutes.

Two days later, Polly had regretted that decision. Polly had woken up that morning expecting the young girl to be awake in her bed waiting for her aunt to take her downstairs to make her breakfast. Instead Polly had found her niece still asleep curled up in her bed, from where Polly was standing she was able to see {Y/N]'s skin glistening with sweat.

The middle aged woman immediately walks away from the child's room, going to Tommy's room and knocks on loudly, knowing her nephew would be awake, Polly opens the door " get dressed and go to the doctor down the road" she demands.

Tommy stood up quickly, puling on a pair of his tailored trousers then followed by putting on a shirt " {Y/N] again?" he asks, he knew it was for his sister but asked anyway.

" i don't know whats wrong with her yet" Polly uttered, her voice full of stress and panic.

Polly rushes back over to her nieces room, walking over to the young girls bed, wrapping her arms around the fragile body of her ill riddled body of the youngest Shelby.

{Y/N} small mouse like voice breaks out from her throat "pol" she whispers, her voice cracking, squirming slightly. The young girl was uncomfortable, the warmth from her fever coming through in bursts, her night clothes soaked in her own sweat.

The sound of Tommy leaving his room followed by the sound of the front door opening and close less then a minute later reassured Polly that help would soon be on the way.

Three hours later.

It had been hours since Tommy had left the house, he had not come back. {Y/N]'s fever had gotten worse as the hours past, Polly had given her several cold water baths to try and bring her fever down but nothing was helping.

The sickly young girl had become distressed, her wailing voice filed the small Shelby home. Her brothers and aunt doing everything they could think of to comfort her.

" Don't hold her like that Finn, that will just make her more upset" the eldest Shelby brother barked at his youngest brother.

Finn was holding his sister under armpits and arms length away from him. " shes contagious"

Arthur grumbles and stands up from the dinning room table, stalking towards his siblings, taking his sister gently from the arms of his brother. " You're a Shelby Finn, you've got other things you should be more scared of" Arthur points out.

The eldest Shelby, holds his sister, his hand on the bottom of her back whilst his other arm sat under her legs to support her weight, The young girl lays her head on her brothers shoulder hiccuping as she cries.

" where is bloody Tommy" Arthur grumbles, looking towards Polly as she walks out of the kitchen holding a cloth. The older woman walks over to Arthur, gently wiping the cold cloth against the forehead of the sickly looking child.

" He's coming Arthur, doctor is probably busy with other children sick from this weather"

" Other children aren't {Y/N} pol, she could di--" Polly quickly interrupts Arthur.

" don't be ridiculous Arthur" Polly hissed.

However, Arthur wasn't wrong and Polly knew this, her niece was already weak from birth and the doctor had warned the family that {Y/N} could die from becoming ill, its just the matter of what will kill her and when.

Luckily, the sound of the front door opening and shutting filled the chaotic family home of the Shelby's. Footsteps clunking towards the room filled with hiccups, coughs and wailing.

The sight of Tommy Shelby was a relief for Polly but when she didn't see the doctor her stress levels turned up a notch. Tommy takes his cap off followed by his jacket.

Tommy walks over to his older brother, Arthur transferring his sister over to him " the doctor will come in a few hours, he is full today with other patients" Tommy explains.

Polly runs her slender fingers over her eyebrows, sighing " her fever isn't breaking Tommy, shes making herself worse by crying" his aunt vents.

The sight of the most feared Shelby rocking his youngest sister as she holds one of his fingers wasn't a rare sight for the family, since {Y/N} was born it was clear her and Tommy had bonded incredibly quick and nothing could break that bond.

The house slowly began to become quiet, the occasional hiccup and cough appeared, Tommy sits on the couch, his sister slowly closing her eyes, her body relaxing for the first time since the morning.

Polly laughs and shakes her head, putting her hands on her hips. " i should have known" she smiles.

Finn frowns and looks towards Polly " known what?" he asks, oblivious.

Polly grabs a cigarette from her metal case and uses a match to light it, then sits down at the dinning room table for the first time since waking up.

" All she wanted was her Thomas".

A/N: Hello again, i apologise for the long wait for this, life has been hectic and i had no time to post anything but i finally have time to post on here! i appreciate all the Reposts, Likes and Comments.

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader Style: cisfem Character: Bogard Vibe: NSFW Consensual AU: Government Mandated Marriage AU Prompt: The Hat Rule Gift Giver: @i-am-vita

Summary: As part of the Match Program in this new government controlled world, you find yourself matched with Garp's right-hand man.

Content Notes: lots of build up, not, technically, NSFW, but it was getting long and I had to stop XD

Additional Note: Thanks and Love to @lyndsyh24 who has done phenomenal world building for this AU in her Closure series. The foundation of this world is what Some Direction and Hey Doll exist upon and I would have written neither without Lyn's friendship and permission ^_^ So give her your thanks if you like those stories XD

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

He hadn’t expected to be omitted from the Match Program, but he’d still been surprised to receive a Matchbook. He’d met you through the book itself, and then met you face to face, supported by his boss, Monkey D. Garp.

Bogard had no other family to speak of, and while Garp was hardly his family, he was someone he trusted, and so thus it had gone.

You were small, but maybe that was just his perspective. Quiet, well-mannered, and self-sufficient. A solid match for someone like him, who spent a lot of time traveling for work. He was Garp’s right hand, and the Captain did not stay in one place for long.

There was simply too much to be done.

The wedding had been modest and small. Neither of you were interested in a large ceremony, and you both agreed to what was effectively the minimum allowed by the government. Ceremony and celebration were part of the process, so it was almost impossible to not have some sort of affair, but you kept it as concise as possible.

It had taken a bit of time, but the first thing he noticed was your smile and how he’d miss it on late nights. The warmth of it after a long day was enough to have him wanting to rush home more than he’d expected. Home had never really been a warm place, just somewhere to sleep when a bed wasn’t provided by virtue of his assignment.

In only one thing were you awkward, and that was intimacy. You flushed deeply at even the softest peck on your cheek, and had almost had a panic attack on the night of the wedding. Apologies had spilled from your lips as tears had slipped down your cheeks, and he reassured you again and again that it was okay.

Bogard knew his default expression appeared frustrated, or even grumpy, though he was rarely ever in a negative emotional state. It made him intimidating, and maybe intimidation was why he’d fallen into the habit. So he had offered you a compromise.

He always wore the frown, and the hat. When you were ready for something more from him, then you could simply remove the hat from his head. Whenever. Wherever. You alone had that right, and he would take care of things after that.

If it took you longer than the time-line set forth by the government guidelines, then he’d do everything needed to obtain extensions until you were ready. It was the least he should be able to do, and considering his job kept him away for long stretches sometimes he was sure it wouldn’t be an issue.

The relief of pressure helped a lot. Bogard had been infinitely patient with you from the beginning. Despite his stony appearance, he was a kind man at heart, and a good person for sure. There was no one else better for you to have paired with, but all the rules and regulations of the match program had weighed on you and made it difficult.

A few weeks after he’d made the offer, you’d taken him up on it.

He’d gotten home at a decent hour, and had a good day. After dinner you collected the plates, lifting his hat off his head and placing it on your own as you walked into the kitchen with the dishes.

There was a silence that followed, and once you’d set the dishes down you could feel him behind you. You hadn’t heard the chair move, or any other sound to indicate he’d gotten up, and you were reminded that he was certainly a skilled member of the marines.

One gloved hand rested on the counter on either side of you, warmth against your back.

“You can tell me to stop,” he says quietly, hand moving your hair aside and tilting your neck. "But if you don’t.” Warm words wash over your skin as he leans down and kisses the crook of your neck. “I promise you’ll enjoy this.”

A shivering breath escapes you at the words, and he presses against you, trapping you gently between himself and the counter. Kisses continue along your neck as his hands rest easily against your hips. He moves you effortlessly, almost like a dance, turning you to face him while moving you away from the counter.

The permanent frown on his face softens, the scowl nearly the beginning of a smile. Twirling you he takes his hat off your head and sets it on the counter, hand back on your hip as he sways a little with you, the dancing steps moving you both further from the kitchen.

Being led in a loose dance by Bogard, who was moving with such ease you were certain he enjoyed dancing, was the beginning of all the tension between the two of you dissolving. You knew he was warm despite the constant scowl, but you were beginning to think you’d underestimated how deep that passion ran.

Slowly, his eyes on yours, he pulls your dress up, gathering the material in his fingers and bringing it up bit by bit. You could feel anticipation swelling up inside you as the fabric raised higher and higher, and when it got to your thighs you couldn’t continue to meet his gaze. Leaning into his chest, he lets you hide your face, pulling the skirt of the dress up enough to hook his thumbs under the band of your panties.

Sliding them down, he sinks down as well, until he’s kneeling before you. There’s no where left to hide your face, so you put the back of your hand up to your mouth, sparing yourself from the look of adoration in his eyes.

He helps you step carefully out of your undergarment, before his hands move up your legs, this time hiking the skirt up from below. You gasp, stepping back and finding purchase behind yourself, moved so neatly into position as you had been. You don’t ask him to stop, the sounds shivering from your lips were hot with desire, eyes pleading for him to continue before you lost your nerve.

With a tender smile he lifts the skirt of your dress up enough to shield himself from your sight. The warm kiss on your thigh nearly buckles your legs, but he holds you steady, putting one of your legs over his shoulder as his kisses move up the inside of your leg.

Strong hands brace you firmly as his tongue licks heavy against your slit. Your body bucks, hands gripping the material of your dress, steadied against his head. Pleasure shatters your thoughts and nothing makes it past your lips but exulted cries as the stoic marine’s tongue speaks his needs and desires into your quavering pussy.

[camsthisky]

you wanted tmnt requests? tbh your post earlier about leo always patching mikey up is still spinning in my head like a microwave and if you wrote smth where mikey realizes how bad leo freaked out when he got hurt? and they get a little bonding moment and mikey gets to reassure him

this is written with 2012 turtles in mind, but it’d probably work with 2003 or early idw, too.

——————

“I’m sorry,” Leo says after patrol one night.

Mikey, who had been fiddling with one of his comics while Leo stitches up the cut on his calf, tilts his head back from where he’s sprawled out on his plastron. Leo isn’t looking up, but there’s a twist to his face. Mikey wants to sit up and throw his arms around Leo’s shoulders, just to get rid of that torn expression.

He doesn’t. On top of Leo being in the middle of literally sewing up his leg, Mikey has a feeling that Leo wouldn’t appreciate the touch just yet.

Gotta get through the emotional talk before he can get to the snuggling, Mikey thinks.

So, Mikey hums thoughtfully. He probably won’t get away with dismissing Leo’s apology. Maybe he can make Leo see that his line of logic is kinda skewed? That would work, probably.

“Unless you touched the toaster without permission, not sure what you’re apologizing for, bro,” Mikey says with a smile aimed back at his older brother.

Leo’s eyes flick up and back down, hands never faltering.

“You got hurt,” Leo tells Mikey’s stitches. “It was my fault.”

“Pretty sure it was the footbot’s fault, actually.”

“It was my plan,” Leo insists.

“It was your plan to have a footbot stab me in the leg?” Mikey asks. “I mean, I don’t pay a whole lot of attention to the planning stuff, but I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

“I’m the reason you were there in the first place.”

Mikey pauses, taking in his oldest brother’s hunched shoulders.

There’s not a lot of things Mikey doesn’t know about his brothers. He doesn’t always have the best attention span, but Mikey is pretty in tune with the emotions and tensions that run through his home. And Leo’s need to take responsibility for the team is something that Mikey thought he’d clocked.

Maybe this is deeper than he thought, though, because Leo looks genuinely distressed.

“Whoa, dude,” Mikey says before he can think better of it. “You really think that this is your fault.”

Leo’s frown deepens into a scowl. He finishes the last stitch. “I made you bait.”

“Yeah,” Mikey says, blinking in bewilderment. “Okay. So?”

“You got hurt.”

This time, Mikey does sit up, not caring that Leo is going to get on him later about not letting him wrap the stitches.

Predictably, Leo yelps and tries to stop him. “Mikey, wait—”

“Alright, Leo,” Mikey says, making sure he’s channeling his no-nonsense tone. “I’m not the smartest turtle in the sewer, but I’m not dumb enough to think that you hurt me.”

Leo’s eyes sharpen and meet Mikey’s gaze. “You’re not dumb, Mikey.”

“So not what we’re talking about,” Mikey says, rolling his eyes. “Why the heck do you think me getting hurt is your fault?”

Mikey can only watch as Leo sighs, dropping his face into his hands—which, dude, probably not the best idea since he’d literally just been sewing Mikey’s leg back together.

“Mikey, you don’t get it,” Leo says quietly.

“Then make me get it,” Mikey says, fighting to keep his voice even as something angry bubbles just under the surface.

Mikey doesn’t let himself get mad often, but one thing that always seems to set him off is anyone being genuinely mean to his brothers, even themselves. Hearing Leo beating himself up for something that was an accident that could have happened to any one of them isn’t something Mikey is going to stand for.

“This is the third time you’ve gotten hurt this month,” Leo says, his voice hard as he looks up at Mikey again. “The third time I’ve had to patch you up this month. Because I keep putting you in danger. I should be able to come up with a way to keep you out of danger.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” Mikey bites out. “You can’t plan for everything. There’s that saying about plans and the enemy, or whatever.”

“I don’t want to be the reason you keep getting hurt,” Leo says.

“Will you listen to me?” Exasperation clings to Mikey’s voice as he scoots towards his older brother. “You’re not responsible for every little scrape I get. I’ve gotten worse while skateboarding.”

Leo’s shoulders droop even further. Mikey wants to fix it. “I don’t like seeing you hurt. You’re my little brother.”

Mikey sighs, white knuckling his anger back into the cavity it tends to live in when he doesn’t want to feel it anymore. He gives into that earlier instinct and throws his arms around Leo’s shoulders, digging his face into the crook of his oldest brother’s neck.

“We’re a team, Lee,” Mikey says quietly. “I don’t like seeing you bros hurt either, but that’s why we have each other’s backs. It’s no one’s fault that it happens, just the nature of being a super rad ninja turtle.”

Leo’s arms slowly come up to wrap around Mikey’s shell. He says nothing, and Mikey’s like half sure he hasn’t quite convinced Leo of anything, but Mikey doesn’t think one talk will change Leo’s mind if this is something he’s been holding onto for a long time.

That’s okay. Mikey’s going to be here to make sure it doesn’t stay that way forever.

[jujurose222]

My Soul Moans Your Name

I wish I could take all the books I have read and put the information in your head. I look at them in total satisfaction. I know they say “do not judge a book by its cover.” But these books I have read are colorful and enticing. Like no books you have ever seen before. Each one makes my body feel a certain way. Each one means something so special to me. And it is so strange to think so many have walked by such books and do not feel a thing.

So many people walk by you and do not feel a thing. But I do. Your cover is my favorite of all. Like a mandala I could look at in so many different ways. People make assumptions based on covers alone, my assumption would be that you are happy. But the more I read through your book, I learned that sometimes the saddest books have the prettiest covers. Like any poetry book I have read. But you are not a forever sad story. I have gotten as far as I could, but you were put on hold.

I have to prepare with other books, for the next chapter to unfold. I know I should not assume, but from what I have read so far, the ending is going to be better than I could ever expect.

I have written a book. You are the main focus. But I have grown and realized, I have so much better work ahead of me. More than I could ever imagine. That is my book. So it will stay in my documents.

Believe me, once I am prepared for the next chapter, and get to read about my love, I will create my book. I have to study up in many ways, one including my love. For he is a main character in the story I will tell. I once wrote about a dream of a huge owl. I do not know if you saw it.

That owl was you. You whispered to me even as the shamaness cleansed me. Your “who” in my ear becomes a full fledged story with visions of sweet colors and textures I have never experienced before.

The shamaness told me I will be initiated into the spirit realm. I gasped, for the name of my first book was titled Love: The Initiation.

I would not be able to do this without you. I do not mean it in a dependent, attached way. I mean it in a soul way. Your soul essence moves me. Your soul essence is my favorite story, so please tell me.

Am I allowed to retell it, in my poetic way?

I give you full permission to speak on my name in whatever which way, even if it cruel and mean. The thought of you speaking about me, makes my soul sing. Sometimes cruelty promotes the growth I need. Even if you speak on it without my conscious knowledge.

My soul moans your name. Moaning can be pleasurable or painful. You give me both.

Thank you for gifting me with the ability to feel like I have never felt before. Let me tell our story. It will be like something you experienced lifetimes ago. It will reside so well, but you will not understand why.

Not until you dissect it all. Like I will dissect your brain when I scrape the mucus off.

Everything I say means something, even when you think it does not. Trust me, if the aha has not hit you yet, it will in the days, weeks, months, years to come.

I would wait lifetimes for you. Even if I get distracted sometimes, every time I lay in bed at night, I understand what I really came to the earth for.

I came for you. And I will continue to, even if you are with me or not. My soul moans your name.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 17

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book. It is solely fluff- nothing sexual

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

.💙💙💙.

𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕 with a headache.

Madam Pomfrey kept me longer than Harry, Hermione, and Ron. They left the infirmary an hour earlier than me. Both Hermione and Harry had asked me if I wanted them to stay with me but I just shook my head, looking blankly out the window, trying to find out if dad had returned to the castle already or not.

As she finally let me go she said, "Professor Lupin is a good man, Elizabeth. I'm sure Dumbledore will have it worked out so that you can stay with him."

I nodded dully. I headed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Harry had already entered inside and I crept up the stairs to hear what they were saying.

". . .not leaving because of that?" Harry was asking.

"This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving from parents. . . They will not want a werewolf teaching their children, Harry. And after last night, I see their point. I could have bitten any of you. . . my daughter was standing right there in front of me. . . That must never happen again." Dad was saying, his voice cracked slightly talking about me.

Harry asked, "Did Fudge. . . Is Fudge. . . are you and Elizabeth. . ." He didn't seem to be able to get the words out.

"Dumbledore persuaded Fudge not to separate the two of us. I want to tell Elizabeth myself but I haven't seen her yet." Dad sounded a little hurt.

"Madam Pomfrey kept her longer than us. I think she's hiding in the forest." Harry said. "She goes there a lot, especially when she's upset. She probably thinks if she stays in there, she'll never know the outcome. She was. . . well she was really upset last night. She cried herself to sleep."

Dad inhaled a lot of air. "I'll go drag her out of the forest." He said softly.

I scampered down the stairs and fled the room and made my way out to the forest. I wandered through the forest, looking for Firenze. I had barely talked to him this year. Of course, he was busy, I knew that.

A few moments later, there were footsteps and I looked up and saw dad there. His hands were empty- I supposed he'd left his stuff in the carriage that would take him home.

I eyed him warily. He made no move toward me. He whispered, "Are you scared of me?"

I shook my head, tears coming to my eyes. "Dad. . . Fudge. . . he- he- he" I couldn't get the words out. I stumbled forward and laid my head on Dad's chest.

"It's alright." Dad said, smoothing my back in gentle circles. His arms felt strong and safe. He smelled fresh, like the pine needles and leaves of the forest. And wind, he especially smelled of the crisp wind. "Dumbledore convinced him that we should stay together. Nothing is changing, okay?"

I nodded and then said, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that you would resign. I was hoping something would change when nothing did."

"It's quite alright." Dad said, smoothing my hair down. "I'll see you at home, alright?"

"You're leaving already?" I asked, looking up but not letting go.

"I don't want to stay, to be completely honest." Dad said. "But don't worry about anything for these last few days, okay?"

I nodded reluctantly. Dad kissed my forehead. "Want to walk back to the carriage with me?"

I nodded and took his hand and we walked back to the carriage, hand in hand.

.💙💙💙.

𝕸𝖞 𝖋𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖉 into Malfoy's face. I ducked Crabbe's incoming fist and then kicked out. All our wands were lying on the floor, forgotten.

I barely remembered how this fight had started. Malfoy was furious that Buckbeak had escaped. He also kept having snide comments about my father and werewolves in general. I ignored them most of the time but today was just too much.

We'd gotten into a number of brawls over the past week. A majority of them, Draco had started, but I'd started one or two after he would say something about dad.

The Professors had started keeping an eye out for us after the three of them had ended up in the hospital wing after I'd done some quick spell work and walked away. After that, their tactic was to get my wand out of my hand.

"You three knock it off!" Professor McGonagall's voice rang out as Goyle tossed me over his shoulder and I was slammed to the floor. My breath went out, my head ringing. "Forty points from Slytherin!"

The other three snatched up their wands and raced off, shooting me nasty looks. Professor McGonagall marched over to where I was sitting up, groaning. "Are you alright Miss Kane?" She asked, bending down and picking up my wand.

"Just sore." I said cheerfully.

"You're in a good mood." She said suspiciously as she handed me my wand.

"I can't be unhappy. Fudge finally dropped his suspicions against Dad so I will get to stay for him forever." I said, wiping dust off my robes. I twisted my back, which was still sore from the landing and winced.

Professor McGonagall's expression softened. "I'm glad Miss Kane. He's a good man."

I nodded, eyes bright. "He's the best dad ever!"

"I came to find you because Professor Snape wanted to talk to you."

The smile dropped off my face. "Oh bloody hell." I muttered. I sighed and then, after thanking Professor McGonagall for her help, I made my down to the dungeons. I knocked on Professor Snape's door and his voice rang from inside, "Enter!"

I entered hesitantly, fear knotting itself in my stomach. What could he possibly want? I closed the door behind me.

"Ah Miss Kane." Professor Snape said, "Good, come here."

I trailed up to where he was standing. He eyed me for a second and then gave me a box. "Er- what's this?" I asked, taking it.

I opened it and inside was a brass necklace. It looked familiar. I put the box down on the desk and pulled out the necklace. It was the necklace that I had given dad for Christmas one year. I opened up the locket. Inside was the picture I'd put in there and the lockets of red-brown hair.

I looked up at Snape confused and shocked, "W-where'd you get this?"

"I er- went out some mornings ago and searched the grass for something." Snape said, not looking at me. "I found this and kept it. I figured that if er- Fudge decided to separate you and your dad, you could keep this."

I swallowed hard and then, without thinking, I threw my arms around him and hugged him. I had caught him by surprise because he stumbled and then, he carefully put his arms around me as well.

"Thank you." I said, wiping away one tear as I pulled away. "We- we get to stay together, luckily. Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge. . . I'm so thankful that we get to stay together. I know that you hate him. . . but he's my dad. . . ya know? And-"

"You don't have to explain why you love him Elizabeth." Professor Snape said gently. "He's your dad and no matter what anyone else thinks, it shouldn't matter or affect your feelings."

"Is that your way of saying I should stop engaging in those fights?" I asked, a bit amused.

Snape's fingers brushed my cheek where a large yellow bruise sat on my cheekbone. "Perhaps." He said softly.

"I'll try." I said and then added, "But I will defend myself if they attack first."

"I wouldn't expect any less." Snape said, his lips twitching upwards.

I turned, clutching the locket to my chest, and got ready to leave when he said, "Elizabeth?"

I turned back to him and he said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked, frowning. I could still feel where his fingers had brushed my cheekbone.

"For what I said days ago. . .I would never. . .I would never have actually handed Lupin over to the dementors. I was. . .angry and I lost control of myself. I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean any of it. I was. . . pathetic."

I found myself approaching him again, wrapping my arms around him one more time and he squeezed me back tightly.

"I forgive you. It was a stressful night for all of us."

"It doesn't make it right." He whispered. His fingers touched the bruise again. "I hurt you horribly, something I never wanted to do."

"But it's okay." I say, pulling back just slightly. I wanted to touch his hair but refrained from doing so, keeping my hands behind his back. "Because I forgive you. I know you wouldn't have done it."

We stand there a moment longer, both my hands behind his back. One of his hands on my cheek, the other brushing my hair back. And then, I stepped backwards and without any more words between the two of us, I left the room without looking back.

.💙💙💙.

𝕳𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖞, 𝕳𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖊, 𝕽𝖔𝖓, and I weren't the only ones who were upset to see Professor Lupin resign. A majority of the Ravenclaws were trying to start up a sort of petition to bring dad back. The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs could be heard complaining in the halls and common rooms.

Dean Thomas hoped that maybe we'd get a vampire next year.

Our exam results came out on the last day of term. I'd passed all my classes with O's. Even Astronomy, though the grade wasn't as high as the others. But I'd only achieved the Astronomy O because of Firenze. These were the results:

Arithmancy: 248% Astronomy: 93% Care of Magical Creatures: 100% Charms: 208% Defense Against the Dark Arts: 198% Divination: 300% Herbology: 107% History of Magic: 205% Magical Theory 245% Muggle Studies: 320% Potions: 278% Study of Ancient Runes: 352% Transfiguration: 102%

Wild grades, I know. If they were all simple grades out of 100 points, all but Astronomy were 100%'s. . .with extra credit. Ancient Runes was a 98%. Astronomy was a 95 out of 100 points in Muggle terms. I think I might've preferred muggle grades. . . magical ones were to complex.

I went to Professor McGonagall after I received my grades, report card still in my hands.

"Yes, Miss Kane?" She asked when I entered the room.

"I want to drop Muggle Studies and Arithmancy." I said. "I know that means I'll still need the time-turner because I'll be two classes over but I did want to drop Muggle Studies and Arithmancy. I liked the classes, but I don't think I want to do another year like this last one."

I would still have Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Magical Theory, and Ancient Runes.

Professor McGonagall nodded. "Very well, I'll make sure your schedule reflects that."

I pulled the time-turner out of my pocket. "Will you keep it over the summer?"

Professor McGonagall held out her hand and took it from me. "Of course Miss Kane."

"Thank you." I said, turned, and left.

.💙💙💙.

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 emptied, all my books were packed in my trunk, and I was boarding the Hogwarts Express so that I could go home and see dad.

I sat with Ron, Harry, and Hermione in a compartment and as the train pulled out of the station, Hermione said, "I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I've decided to drop Muggle Studies."

"But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!" Ron exclaimed.

"I know. But I can't stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I've handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I'll be able to have a normal schedule again." Hermione said with a sigh. She'd never taken Magical Theory.

"I dropped Muggle Studies and Arithmancy." I said. "But because I'm keeping Ancient Runes, Divination, Magical Theory, and Care of Magical Creatures, I'll still need the Time-Tuner."

Hermione shook her head. "You should've dropped Divination."

I shrugged, "It's helping me broaden my range for visions."

"I still can't believe you guys didn't tell us about it." Ron said grumpily. "We're supposed to be your friends."

"We promised we wouldn't tell anyone." Hermione said.

I glanced over at Harry who was looking out the window. I had my book It in my lap. I was re-reading it again- on Richie's point of view, talking about going to Neibolt Street with Stuttering Bill to see if Eddie was right about seeing one of the monsters there.

"Oh, cheer up, Harry." Hermione said sadly.

"I'm okay." Harry said quickly. "Just thinking about the holidays."

"Yeah, I've been thinking about them too. Harry you've got to come and stay with us. I'll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I'll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now-"

I giggled.

"A telephone, Ron, honestly you should take Muggle Studies next year." Hermione said, highly amused.

"It's the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we'll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work!" Ron said, ignoring Hermione.

"Yeah. . . I bet the Dursleys'd be pleased to let me come. . . especially after what I did to Aunt Marge. . ." Harry said cheerfully.

"They'll let you go." I solidified. "Also, Sirius is going to send an owl and we'll receive it sometime after lunch hour."

"Thanks Elizabeth." Harry said with a grin, "I suppose you're more reliable than the news, aren't you?"

I grinned back. "Also Ron, your dad will get enough tickets for himself, Fred, George, Percy, Charlie, Bill, Ginny, you, Hermione, and Harry. I don't know if he gets more tickets than that but if not, let me know what the seats are so I can buy two tickets right next to you okay?"

"Sure." Ron said, his mouth dropping. "Why two? Is your dad going to come?"

"I don't know." I said, frowning. "I'm not sure why I said two but I'm sure it means something so keep that in mind if your dad does get more than those number of tickets."

"Sure." Ron said again.

After that, we played exploding snap. When the trolley witch came, I bought hot chocolate, chocolate chip cookies, a bar of Honeydukes chocolate, and vanilla cake with vanilla icing.

Harry laughed, "You got all chocolate things- minus the cake."

I nodded, "Reminds me of dad."

"You get to stay with him, don't you?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

I nodded. "Fudge dropped the case. Actually. . ." I hesitated, "I think Dumbledore might've er- put a spell on him to convince him. . .I don't know."

They all looked at me in surprise.

Then I asked with a growing smile, "Do you know who Fudge said he was going to put me up with if Dad and I were separated?"

They shook their heads, looking interested and I burst into giggles, "The Malfoys!"

"What!" They all exclaimed in various degrees of shock. I laughed harder.

"Yeah. Apparently Lucius Malfoy said he would take me in." I laughed harder.

Hermione and Ron still seemed in shock, but Harry was grinning too. "I suppose that would be why Dumbledore didn't let you leave your dad?"

I nodded, grinning. "Which I'm very thankful for, of course." It had actually quite frightened me, hearing Fudge tell me I was going to go live with Lucius Malfoy. And it had been hard, listening to Fudge praise Lucius Malfoy for being so kind as to take me in. I could only imagine that Dumbledore erased his memory or had done something because Dumbledore knew I couldn't go and stay with the Malfoys. I'd probably be killed over the summer or something.

"Harry!" Hermione pointed out the window. "There's an owl outside your window!"

"Oh yeah, that's from Sirius." I said, smiling.

Harry quickly opened the window and pulled the tiny owl into the train car. The owl dropped the letter into Harry's lap and zoomed around the compartment. Hedwig clicked her beak anxiously and Sadie hooted what sounded like what might've been a laugh. Crookshanks sat up in his seat, following the owl with his big yellow eyes. Ron quickly snatched the owl out of the air.

"Read it aloud!" I said excitedly.

Dear Harry, I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle. I don't know whether they're used to owl post. Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won't tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job. I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted. There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt-

Here, Hermione interrupted with a triumphant, "Ha! See! I told you it was from him!"

"Yes, but he hadn't jinxed it, had he?" Ron asked, "ouch!" he exclaimed as the Owl nibbled his fingers in an affectionate way.

Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather. If Eilís is there, tell her I'll get her something soon too. I would also like to apologize for the fright I think I gave you that night last year when you left your uncle's house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you. I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable. If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me. I'll write again soon. Sirius.

I grinned though I hoped that he didn't get me something super expensive. Harry looked in the envelop and pulled out a slip.

"That'll be good enough for Dumbledore!" Harry said happily. He showed us that it was a permission slip for Hogsmeade.

"Read the rest!" I said eagerly.

"P.S. I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it's my fault he no longer has a rat." Harry read. We all looked at Ron.

His eyes widened and the tiny owl hooted excitedly. "Keep him?" He asked uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl and then, to Harry and Hermione's astonishment, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff. "What d'you reckon? Definitely an owl?"

Crookshanks simply purred.

"That's good enough for me." Ron said happily. "He's mine."

Harry kept reading Sirius' letter over and over and we let him, playing exploding snap between the three of us. When the train stopped, I held Harry back for a second, my heart pounding. "So, Harry." I said quickly. "Since Sirius is both our godfather. . . do you want that to make us sister and brother?"

Harry stared at me for a second and then his grin got even wider and he said, "Of course. But you have to be my little sister, understand?"

I giggled and said, "Deal."

Then, arms linked, we quickly went to catch up with Ron and Hermione. 

⬅️➡️

[luciality]

ok one more horny maddiepost for the day (bcz i just finished rubbing one out to her again)

okay so. Someone (probably america with her evil brainwashing hypnosis or england with her evil magical powers) takes away her ability to make her cum on her own. She doesnt even realize it at first, but she keeps getting worked up and trying to cum and gets discouraged after like an hour of rubbing her pussy raw and getting nowhere and tearing up from frustration.

After at least a week of this, she's starting to notice that even when she's not actively turned on and thinking horny thoughts, her body is always warm and sensitive. Her nipples are always hard, her breasts are tender and she keeps trying to rub them without someone noticing, and her cunt is just so demanding for attention. She tries to ignore it but shes constantly aware of it, throbbing, aching, and so so so wet. She's soaking through her panties every day, going through two or three pairs and terrified that she's going to have a wet spot on her pants. And since touching herself doesn't make anything better, only ever worse, she tries to avoid it, but she finds herself unconsciously humping anything she sits on.

It's humiliating and confusing, and she's worried maybe it's a hormone problem or something is wrong with her. She looks at herself in the mirror one morning, inspecting her pussy and amazed at how fat and swollen her lips have gotten, how her clit is hard and twitching from any delicate touch. She plays with herself in the mirror, just for a minute or two she thinks, and she ends up rubbing her clit until she's weak in the knees and leaning against the mirror to stay upright.

It's not enough, she's never going to be able to cum like this, and her cunt is so wet that it's making all these gross sloppy noises and her hand is drenched already, so she licks her hand clean and then easily slides three fingers inside herself. She's always been a bit of a size queen, she loves the feeling of being stretched open, and three fingers isnt enough for her greedy cunt. Four finger then, four fingers should be enough, and shes jamming them into her g-spot, moaning loudly because she's home alone and no one can possibly hear her, and she spreads her fingers to stretch herself out even more. It's still not enough.

She sinks down to the floor and when she looks down she sees what a mess she's made with her juices all over the floor, and she eases her whole right fist inside of herself, whimpering and watching in the mirror as she fucks herself. With her free hand, she grabs her tit and pushes it up, leaning her head down to catch her nipple in her mouth, and she stays like that until she cant possibly hold the pose anymore, biting and sucking her own nipple while fisting herself with pretty tears dripping down her face and all over her chest. Her body aches from this but she hasn't cum yet.

She needs something more than her own hands, she realizes. In her horny daze, she gets up and looks through her modest sex toy collection. The wand will help, but none of her dildos are big enough. She needs to be stuffed until she's split in two. Before she knows it, the whole day has gone by and she spent it all fucking herself in front of the mirror, stuffing various objects in her cunt, watching her own face contort in pleasure and anguish as she tries to fit more inside herself, her tongue dumbly falling out and getting drool everywhere. She's exhausted and fucks herself until she passes out with her fist still up her cunt.

She wakes up in the middle of the night to her phone ringing, and she answers it still half asleep and her body feels like shes in heat. And the person on the other end is so concered "Oh maddie where were you today? Are you okay? You don't sound okay! Are you sick?" Maddie keeps mhming along, rubbing her pussy with her whole hand and barely able to disguise her moaning. And then, finally, she gets permission to cum.

[saffron0v0]

Everyone takes 2-3 weeks to recover and go through rehabilitation, in those 2 weeks, a lot has happened.

Muzan has finally gotten used to his body, and shape-shifted back into his adult male form. He's still struggling with fully getting under the sun, since he really doesn't know or have any proper connection to sun breathing, so he's still unable to fully walk under the sun with full power. He is basically a normal powerless human under the sunlight, he usually burns if he's under the sun light for too long.

Aoi had asked tomioka to train her, and polish her techniques. She's a quick learner, so she was able to get in shape fairly quickly. And since everyone was still in the healing stage, she got a head start on training, by the time everyone was up for rehabilitation training (after 5-6 days) she was able to slightly overpower inosuke for a split second, until he just flipped her over.

Senjuro had decided to take up insect breathing, and continue it's legacy. He had taken permission from the sisters to borrow shinobu's laboratory, and they agreed. Aoi 1'd kanao were more knowledgeable in medicine and poison, so they were able to point out and explain things he missed or didn't understand. He was able to decapitate demons, but he just found insect breathing more efficient, since he was faster and lighter on his feet. He actually visited Tamayo because he wanted all the help he can get, but she was busy so he ended up working with yushiro because she was busy. It was very productive so he deemed it as success. Senjuro's training would take 2-3 months to complete, since he's already well trained in swordsmanship.

Kanao has fully adjusted to her lost eyesight, and was able to concentrate her vision into her working eye.

Tamayo has been working day and night trying to locate Kibitsuji while he's still weakened, yushiro has never seen her so frustrated.

Tanjiro and the others have been training from the moment they were able to stand, inosuke was the first to get up, he sees aoi training in the yard, and just goes after her, yelling 'fight me maoki!", that goes on for 15 minutes. Aoi ends up pinning inosuke down, he's in bad shape, so she was able to get to him easily.

Tanjiro and zenitsu on the other hand were rather quiet, tanjiro still being nice and cheerful, but a bit more quiet, and zenitsu not really talking to anyone and just wordlessly training. Everyone was slightly worried, and when naho finally worked up the courage to ask him, he simply said > I plan to become a hashira in honor of my late master. I'm still very scared, but I guess I'll just have to suck it up and train hard enough." he would elaborate more if anyone asked or was interested, but everyone collectively agreed that they should let the topic be, he wasn't emotionless, he would still complain when inosuke hit him, laugh at jokes and gag because of the medicine, so everyone thought it was for the better.

The remaining hashira would train together, and have food together, Mitsuri thought it was nice to have them around, Giyuu was happy with the company, and sanemi didn't mind chatting with them, Giyuu's handmade ohagi was just so delicious he could devour a whole plate and still want more.

Giyuu would smile and try to socialize more, sanemi would be a bit nicer and understanding, he would sometimes just sit around in the porch, listening to the birds chirp, it brought him peace. Mitsuri was still kinda emotional from everything, but she's more chill now. She became slightly more self aware, and just so done with demons, so she just became a bit more straight forward and not so nice with one certain kakushi. She asked for a new uniform, since her current uniform was just too revealing, more than what she would've liked. Now she wears a uniform like kanao's.

Lower rank demons are still not immune to the sun, so nirchin a still kill them. Muzan still has some weakness towards the sun as well, so if he were to get constantly cut by blades, especially a red blade, he would get hurt.

also kiriya got officially appointed as the corps' 98th leader, he and his sisters are currently working together to get their act back together, they were not intending to lose this war.

I'll be giving more lore for my au later, this is what I currently have in mind.

[riversofmars]

Chapter 19: Flashback

Escapism is a wonderful thing. Whether it‘s through stories or simply a break from the day-to-day. Having time away from the things that weigh you down is freeing, restorative and just what‘s needed every now and then. That‘s exactly what our excursion to Africa felt like to me. I had been getting so bogged down in the oppressive reality of being stranded in 2020, haunted by past demons rearing their heads and caught between my feelings for Helen and the obligation I felt to Tania. Being away changed all that and gave Helen and I the opportunity to work things out. Finally, I was seeing things clearly, freed of an emotional burden that I had been buckling under and I got the sense that Helen felt better for it too. The honeymoon phase, as you might call it, would not last for very long. We were due to make our return to London and with it, to reality.

“Wakey-wakey, rise and shine!”

We woke to River’s sing-song voice. I groaned. Sleeping sitting up in a car was far from comfortable. My neck ached and my left arm had fallen asleep and yet, I couldn’t help a small smile when I realised why. Helen stirred on my shoulder, her head nudging against mine as she sat up slowly and released the tight hold that she’d had on my arm. It was hard to tell whether her cheeks were rosy from sleep or if she’d blushed, still somewhat insecure about being in my personal space, but either way, she was a lovely sight to wake up to.

“Sleep okay?” I questioned softly and shook out my tingling limb, hoping she wouldn’t take offense at the gesture.

“Yeah, I suppose…” She answered and sounded quite drowsy still. Her blonde hair was tussled, the bun halfway undone in her sleep, and she yawned. I don’t think I can quite describe all the emotions I felt: the deep adoration the endearing image evoked in me, the surprising contentment and comfort of waking up next to her, and the longing to lean over and kiss her good morning. I settled for allowing her to come around in her own time as she blinked against the lights that were illuminating the inside of the car. Outside, it remained pitch black. Perhaps we hadn’t slept for quite as long as I thought. I looked around as well and it seemed the Doctor and River had swapped places as the Professor was in the passenger seat now, looking around with a knowing smile but silent.

“Where are we?” I asked to avoid any comment that she might have been saving until we were fully awake.

“Little air base we came across. We‘ve been driving for a while but should have a few hours of cover of night left. The Doctor is just having a look if there are any usable planes, if so, we might be able to make the hop across to the British Isles tonight,” she answered pleasantly. “Maybe you should see what she’s come up with? I imagine she’s expecting you to fly it.”

“Yeah, I guess I’d better,” I nodded and cast a quick glance around to Helen. She gave me a soft smile and nod of agreement. It wasn’t that I needed her permission of course, but I knew it meant leaving her with River. That wasn’t a problem as such, their friendship was certainly closer than between River and me, but I expected Helen might become subject to probing questions from the professor, which I wasn’t sure she would appreciate just yet. The fact that Helen didn’t seem to care was reassuring. Perhaps she wasn’t quite as insecure in her feelings as I feared. “See you in a minute,” I reached for her hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze before getting out of the car.

The night-time air was pleasantly cool as it hit my face and blew away the remnants of sleep. I felt surprisingly well-rested. My dreams had turned more mellow, recalling events that weren’t entirely unpleasant and I knew Helen’s immediate proximity had a lot to do with it. I smiled to myself, allowing for a brief moment of joy, as I looked around to see where the Doctor had gotten off to.

Airbase was a generous term for what I found. With only the light of the moon to guide me, I found my way in between two large hangers alongside a short airstrip. Touchdown and refueling, that was all I could imagine had taken place here, but I spotted one of the hangars having been opened - with a sonic screwdriver I imagined - and a figure was moving in the shadows, skirting a small plane.

“That’ll be cosy,“ I commented as I stepped into the hangar. The Doctor looked up, her face illuminated by the shine of her sonic screwdriver, and she grinned:

“And much better suited to flying under the radar as it were,“ she observed and gave the hatch a buzz. Results were instantaneous as the plane‘s security features were no match for her implement of choice: the hatch creaked open and lowered to the ground. Without hesitation, she climbed inside and I followed. It wasn‘t a bad find. The small military plane was made for five people, a pilot and four additional seats behind, two to either side. It would serve us nicely.

“Fuel?” I prompted the Doctor who dropped into the pilot seat and set about checking the state of the vessel. I leaned onto the back of the pilot seat, looking on, familiarising myself with the controls already. They weren‘t much different from the passenger plane we had used on the way here, which made things easy.

“Full tank by the looks of it,“ the Doctor answered, evidently pleased. “Luck is certainly-”

“On our side, yes, makes sense,“ I completed her sentence as it was an observation we had made far too many times by now. It did get me thinking about the potency of the quantum crystalliser and its limitations. A small part of me wondered if its presence had influenced the way in which Helen and I had been able to make sense of our feelings; if under different circumstances, we would have continued the painful back and forth that I feared would have broken me in the end.

“Doesn’t mean we can get complacent,“ the Doctor interrupted my musings. “There is a lot that can go wrong at every turn. It’s not a guarantee,“ she warned sternly and jumped to her feet.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I hummed, casting a glance at my bandaged forearms that rested on the headrest of the pilot‘s seat. I straightened up as well. “But yeah, this seems perfect, I can definitely fly it.”

“Wonderful,“ the Doctor grinned and offered up the seat to me. “I’ll get the others, you start her up.“ She skipped past me towards the hatch.

“Sure thing,” I agreed and dropped into the pilot seat, testing the yoke in my hands.  

“Liv?” The Doctor spoke and I turned in my seat to look around, curious as to why she was delaying.

“Yeah?” I responded and found her looking at me with a smile that reminded me an awful lot of the Doctor we usually travelled with. There was a softness about her expression, a sense of boundless optimism and joy.

“I’m happy for you,“ she said simply and not unlike a proud parent. While perhaps slightly bewildering, it wasn‘t unpleasant as she seemed so utterly sincere. “Truly. It’s been a long time coming.” She gave me a smile and since I am me, I couldn‘t simply accept her warm words gracefully. I gave a snotty response that made me feel less self-conscious:

“You know, if it was that obvious you could have said something, saved us the time and-” I argued but the Doctor just chuckled and interrupted:

“Would you have listened?”

“Well-” It was a fair point. I didn‘t like taking the Doctor‘s advice at the best of times - certainly not without a lot of complaining. If they had offered their advice on matters of the heart, matters where I wouldn‘t have taken kindly to them interfering, it would have resulted in nothing but a lot of sniping and sarcasm. The Doctor had a point.

“Nobody can convince you of the things you’re not ready to hear,” she elaborated knowingly. “Helen needed this time. And maybe you did too.”

“Maybe…” I conceded, and the Doctor ducked out of the hatch, leaving me to the controls and my thoughts.

---

“This is snug,“ River commented and while I didn‘t turn to see what was going on in the passenger seats behind me, I could imagine her taking full advantage of sitting so close to her wife.

“It is rather,“ Helen agreed, sounding amused.

“You won’t hear me complaining about being stuck in a tight space with three gorgeous women,” the professor carried on her teasing and the familiar wave of jealousy I felt way back when River and Helen had been keeping secrets behind my back resurfaced.

“River!” I shot her a stern glance of warning over my shoulder. I couldn‘t leave the controls, or rather, I wouldn‘t. Not after what happened last time. Even as I allowed the autopilot to steer, I scanned the dark sky with keen eyes. So far there were no Daleks in sight and we had been flying for a few hours.  

“I’m just saying, the fun we could have,“ River replied innocently and flashed me a bright, playful smile.

“As nice as it is to see you again, that’s not an image I need in my head,“ I retorted as dryly as I could manage,though I was glad for the interruption of the tense atmosphere. The Doctor had taken to fiddling with the crystalliser, Helen seemed somewhat lost in her thoughts, and River was clearly bored.

“I, on the other hand-” she hummed mischievously.

“River!” I snapped again, taking great offence at the notion that over over-active imagination might involve my girlfriend. The term was unfamiliar still. It thrilled and unnerved me in equal measures. It just didn‘t sit quite right with me, strangely. Tania had been my girlfriend... but for Helen, the term seemed so... weak. It didn‘t do justice to describe how I felt for her. I cast her a quick glance and caught her looking at me. Where before, one - or both - of us would have turned away, pretended to be doing something else, I smiled at her and she mirrored me. I was pleased that she didn‘t seem bothered by River‘s constant innuendo, she simply leaned back in her chair shaking her head at our friend, bemused.

“Looks like we’re entering British air space,“ the Doctor interjected to change the topic of conversation.

“No fun…” River huffed in response.

As we approached London, I felt the weight of reality slowly setting in and my thoughts turned to the concerns Helen had uttered. Being off on an adventure with the future Doctor had been a strange break in the day to day, we had hit pause on where we had been, and the closer we got to London, the more real things became. The honeymoon, wonderful as it had been, had been short-lived. I considered asking the Doctor to take over for a minute, just so I could be close to Helen for the little time we had left before our return. Perhaps I could steal a few more kisses in the twilight of the back of the plane…

Every now and then I thought I could feel Helen’s eyes on me and wondered if she was thinking the same thing.

“Is that London?” The Doctor asked when the lights of a big city came into view on the horizon. She had taken to pacing the small plane, pushing past River and Helen‘s knees to their constant annoyance. She came to stand behind me, peering out of the windscreen with the sky slowly greying as dawn was breaking.

“Of course it is, can you think of any other big sprawling cities that we might be heading towards in this part of the-” I quipped, as usual jumping at the chance to poke fun, but the Doctor didn‘t let me finish. She grabbed my shoulders in a bid to silence me.

“Liv, Liv!” She shushed me and drew my attention back to the city we were approaching, gesturing towards the lights. Time Lords had superior eyesight so it took me a moment to realise what she was referring to but then, I saw it too. What I had presumed were the bright lights of London, were in fact skyscrapers that stood in flames.

“Oh my God…” I breathed and the horror must have been more than obvious in my voice.

“What is it, Liv?“ Helen sounded immediately concerned and I heard belts being unbuckled as I didn‘t answer, stunned into silence. I clawed my hands into the yoke, knuckles turning white, as I fought the memories of Nixyce VII back. This was not the time or place, I had to keep a level head. I knew what it meant to see a city burn and dread took me over like a gust of cold wind that made me shudder and cease up. Moments later, River was behind me too, whispering curses under her breath as she took in the destruction we were approaching. Helen was there as well, to my right hand-side and she audibly gasped at the sight of her hometown. I released my tight hold on the steering, with one hand at least, and quickly reached for hers. I couldn’t bring myself to form words but I squeezed her hand and knew she understood.

“What happened?“ Helen broke the silence at last, her voice trembling, and I held on to her tightly.   

“Something must have prompted this,“ River observed darkly and my thougths jumped to our friends that were somewhere down there. The Doctor, Kate, Osgood, Tania, Martha, Yaz, Ryan, Graham...

“I’m taking us straight down!“ I announced, unwilling to waste time on indecision. Our friends needed our help. They might be injured or worse... I eased the yoke down. “I’ll find a place to land, a park or-” The plane was small. I knew I could practically land it anywhere and in the ruins below, it would hardly make a difference if I caused some havoc of my own. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. My brain simply refused to compute it.

“Is that wise? What if the Daleks-” River sought to protest but the Doctor was quick to agree:

“No, no, she’s right, we can’t waste any time.” Her voice was uncharacteristically calm, utterly devoid of the bubbliness and joy I had come to associate with her. It only drove home the seriousness of the situation. “People need our help. Our friends will need our help.” She confirmed what we all already feared.

“It‘ll be alright,“ I told Helen, averting my eyes from our approach for a moment, just long enough to pull her hand to my lips and press a kiss on top of it. I didn‘t know how else to give her comfort, not when I was struggling with my own demons.

“How? How could it possibly be alright?“ She whispered in response and I didn‘t have an answer.

“Buckle up, Helen,“ River took the initiative and ushered Helen back to her seat. I released her hand unwillingly but knew it was far safer.

“Hold on tight,” I told them as we approached central London and I aimed for Hyde Park.

---

The one saving grace was that there were no Daleks as yet. I didn't know why and where they had retreated at the time but I wasn't about to question it as we touched down in Hyde Park. It was a rough landing but I managed to avoid knocking into trees and there were far greater concerns than our comfort.

"Everybody okay?" I questioned when we had come to a halt and the engines fell silent. I looked around to find my friends already on their feet.

"Stay behind me," River advised sternly, readying her blaster. I could hardly argue with that. We were about to walk into a war zone with the rest of us unarmed.

"First aid kit, not much but it's something," the Doctor threw a small parcel towards me as I got out of the pilot seat. She must have found it under one of the seats. She followed River who was opening the hatch, and I met Helen in the middle of the plane, waiting right behind our friends.

"This is not how it was meant to go..." She said softly and I knew what she meant. The timeline had just taken an unexpected turn for the worse, one that had never been mentioned in the notes River had provided us with. From here on in, everything was new, the only advantage we had left was River herself and given the concerned expression on the professor's face, that was not a guarantee.

“Good God…” Helen mumbled as we climbed out of the small plane. There was a lot of smoke and the air was cold despite the fires that were flickering and dancing in sharp winter winds.

“Where is everyone?” River questioned, looking around. The park was empty of humans and Daleks alike. A few trees had been singed, a couple continued to smoulder, and I realised they weren't fresh flames. They were dying down.

 “Guess the attack happened a while back…” the Doctor observed the same thing as we ventured further away from our plane. Even as we arrived on the main road beside the park, there was not a living soul in sight. There were, however, bodies. Helen clasped her hand to her mouth and I carried out the grim task of checking for vital signs, knowing full well I wouldn't find any. Anyone who had been able to had fled and barricaded themselves away, and while I couldn't see any Daleks anywhere, I knew we would do well to do the same.

“We need to find the others, get out of the open. If the Daleks are around, they would have seen us landing and will come to investigate," the Doctor instructed.

"Let's get a move on!" River urged us along, towards the underground station at Hyde Park Corner and I realised why: there were Daleks at the far end of the street, shooting towards us. They must have indeed witnessed our landing.

---

It was a mad dash to the underground. River was down the stairs first and her arms flung out to slow our advance!

"Careful!" She yelled, nearly tripping over the rubble that obscured the steps. Destruction had rained from above: half of the entrance to the underground station had collapsed.

"Keep going, it's our best option. We just need to get into the tunnels," the Doctor was bringing up the rear, urging us to keep going as bolts of energy shot over our heads with the Daleks growing closer.

"Euston isn't far. Four or five stops," Helen confirmed and River sought a way forward, keeping a close eye on the stability of the ceiling as we pushed on. We clambered over bits of wall and metal railing that had come loose.

"If the tunnel hasn't collapsed," I observed grimly, dreading what we would find as we advanced further. We were hard-pressed for other options but the thought that we might be heading for a dead-end occurred. "What happened here?"

"Something really, really bad. We won't find out until we find the others," the Doctor put the matter off. The 'what had happened' was obvious enough, the 'why' was the more pressing question.

Luck was, as ever of late, on our side. The underpass at the bottom of the stairs was mostly unharmed, seemingly made of sturdy stuff. The Doctor guided our way with her sonic screwdriver, the only light source underground. Inside the station, schedule boards and overhead lights had crashed to the ground, a wall to the left had collapsed, but for the time being, the ceilling appeared to be holding and the escalators were unobscured. The one thing that was an awful lot to deal with was that there were more bodies: not many but enough. People that had sought to flee into the underground much like us and appeared to have been shot down in front of the ticket barriers that had hindered their flight.

"HALT. DO NOT MOVE OR YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED," the Daleks screeched, moving along the underpass behind us, blue blasts of energy shooting down the tunnel, illuminating our surroundings in garish hues. Their metal voices echoed through the chamber and startled us out of our petrified horror.  

"Keep going!" River shouted over the sound of energy weapons fire and readied her blaster once more.

"River, what are you doing?" Helen exclaimed, mortified as the professor retraced our steps.

"If I can make the underpass collapse-" She answered, aiming her weapon up.

"What makes you think it'll just be the underpass?!" I shouted, realising her intentions. "We might get buried alive!"

"Not with luck on our side!" She gave a daredevil grin and beside us, the Doctor blasted the ticket barriers with her screwdriver.

"Keep going you two!" She told us sternly as River took a first shot at a Dalek that had made it within range. She didn't seem to want to risk collapsing the roof until we had made it further into the station. The Doctor tossed me her sonic, our only source of light, then reached into her coat and retrieved the Quantum Crystalliser. “Take it with you, just in case.” She pressed it into my hand and I didn’t want to take it. It was as if she was allowing for the possibility of them not making it but I knew I couldn’t argue. 

"Come on, Helen." I pushed the Crystalliser into my pocket, then grabbed Helen’s hand. We didn't have a moment to lose on indecision. Neither River nor the Doctor could be reasoned with once they had made up their minds so it wasn't wise to try and delay. We had to trust them and I did. Keeping Helen safe became my priority, as it always had been if we're being perfectly honest. As the Doctor joined River, I pulled Helen with me.

"Liv-" She tried to protest but I didn't relent. The escalators weren't far. I clasped the sonic as firmly as Helen's hand, lighting our way as best as I could. The escalators at Hype Park Corner were incredibly steep and we hurried down as fast as we dared.

We were halfway down when the explosion rocked the underground station, the sound of collapsing stone echoed down the tunnels and I lost my balance, my footing and the sonic screwdriver.

And the world was plunged into complete darkness.

---

The lights went off expectantly as I was elbow deep in the engine array. Bright illumination to pitch black. It did what it surely had been intended to do: disorient, unsettle and hinder any progress we had made in the test so far. You would have thought I was used to it by then, after weeks of various tests measuring out aptitudes and problem solving skills, but some obstacles were impossible to prepare for. I wouldn't have expected my reaction to be as strong as it was but those things were far beyond my control.

"Shit!" I gasped as I touched my wrench to a live wire. Not enough to seriously harm me, but enough to give me a painful jolt.

"Liv?" Dal’s voice sounded across the intercom. It was a joint test, all four of us had different tasks and I realised I was falling short and letting my team down by stalling.

"Yes, I'm here, I'm nearly done," I shot back, trying to get back on track with the repairs to the power connections.

"Just keep going, you can do this blind if you need to," he encouraged calmly as a good captain ought to, but sadly I wasn't quite the model crewman. My journey - still unknown to my teammates - had left many marks and bruises, some of which I hadn't really been aware of until that moment.

"I am doing it blind!" I snapped, airing my frustration with myself. As I felt my way forward to the next step, my hands were shaking.

The darkness was all encompassing and I felt an unfamiliar sense of panic slowly creeping up my back. Cold sweat gathered on my forehead and the muscles of my chest cramped up, squeezing my lungs, unwilling to do the work they were designed for. It wasn't the task itself that was to blame. Dal was right, I could do this blind! I'm a good technician and I had the designs and schematics of the Orpheus down flat, we all did. We needed to. All sorts of circumstances could befall us on the way to the end of the universe, we all had to be capable of seeing to our ship. Emergencies like a sudden loss of power, drifting through space, unable to carry on with our journey. Perhaps the engines had exploded and-

"You can do this, Liv."

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the rising panic as a flash of memory forced itself upon me. Memories of working my way through computer systems and data highways, memories of an explosion and the power failing, memories of floating in suffocating darkness, awaiting death.

"Nearly there."

I tried to concentrate, mapping out steps in my mind's eye and letting my fingers do the rest. My heart was going at a frantic pace. As I recoupled the connectors, I counted along to the beats, hoping it would help slow my pulse but it didn't. I was just short of going into arrhythmia, I could sense it. Maybe this was it: full metabolic collapse. I knew it would happen eventually and could at any time. The beginnings of a panic attack might be just the thing to kick it off. I waited for the thundering in my ears to fall silent, for things to end, if they had to, paranoid about every skip of my heart, every sharp pain, every-

I continued working as if on autopilot, hoping it would distract me from my looming demise but it didn’t. While I wasn't dead yet, I might as well keep going.

The last set of link-ups connected and with it, the lights turned back on. It was almost as disorienting as the plunge into darkness had been. Applause sounded at another task completed and slowly, the panic that had been squeezing my chest dispersed and allowed me to breathe more freely again.

I stepped away from the engine array and dropped the wrench unceremoniously into a nearby tool box. My head was spinning and I considered the irony if after everything, I simply collapsed now. My heart began to slow but not because it gave out, I was able to relax.

"Are you alright, Med-tech Chenka?" One of the staffers inquired as they set up the room for the next practice run.

"Yes. Quite. Just need a moment..." I tried to sound reassuring, as I pressed my hand to my aching chest.

"Do you have a problem with tight spaces?" The staffer frowned, trying to make sense of my state of being. "Or with pressure? You have to be absolutely reliable. Do you have an issue with the dark?"

"No and surely, it doesn't matter," I interrupted, trying my best to sound calm and collected when in reality, my mind was still aboard the isotope carrier, fighting back the darkness. "We completed the task, right?"

"So you did," he couldn't argue with that. We were interrupted by the door to the practice suit sliding open and revealing Dal Broke.

"Well done, Liv," he praised with a kind smile and I barely managed one in return. My body was still shaking from the unpleasant experience. He seemed to notice as much as he turned to the staffer to carry on: "We've been at this for hours, how about a break?"

"We are due to break up for lunch, yes," the young man confirmed. "Testing will resume in an hour." The ISI were running a tight schedule and gruelling as it was at times, it was also nice to be back in a routine. So we nodded in confirmation and the captain led me out of the room.

"Are you alright, Liv?" He asked, as we made our way down the corridor, at the end of which Vi and Bron were waiting for us.

"Yeah just... wasn't prepared for the lights to go out..." I hummed, not exactly eager to share any more than that, particularly when we were about to rejoin our colleagues. I had managed to build something of a relationship of mutual respect and appreciation with Dal over the past few weeks. The same wasn't quite true for the other two.

"I can sense there is a story there," Dal observed and I shook my head, almost instantaneously.

"Nothing worth telling..." I assured him and it was obvious that he didn't believe me.

"Hm..." He gave me a quick sideways glance. "Does it have something to do with why you're here?" He pushed on. "You haven't spoken much about that."

"And I'd rather not," I countered as Vi and Bron joined us.

"I think it would help if you did. Not only to build our relationships but also to-" the captain carried on and I interrupted him, pre-empting the curious glances from the other two.

"I'm sure ISI have a psych on staff that will help me work through my trauma in due course."

"You do keep your cards close to your chest, don't you? I'll figure you out eventually," Dal gave a good-natured laugh as we made for the dining hall.

"Excuse me everyone?" It was one of the lead scientists that approached our table once we had settled for lunch.

"Not a moment's peace and quiet..." I mumbled into my salad and Dal gave me a bemused smile. The scientist however remained unfazed:

"I am pleased to announce that all test results thus far have been exemplary. Your abilities compliment each other and you have developed into a well-working unit. We will be moving forward with all of you once all the formalities are out of the way. Our focus will shift from assessment to preparation."

"Excellent," Dal beamed and Vi and Bron seemed pleased as well. As for me? It wasn't entirely surprising, after all the time they had invested in us already and given the fact that we had become an excellent team. Either way, it was a relief. I was about to join in with the raising of glasses in celebration when the scientist focused on me.

"Records indicate that you still haven't completed your physical, med-tech Chenka?" It was an accusation hidden in a question and it pushed my body back towards panic. I did my best not to let on.

"Oh uhh yeah... just haven't had the time," I tried to put him off. I had yet to find a way around the whole thing. If I had a proper physical, my condition would immediately be revealed and that would be the end of the whole experience.

"It's just a formality, a last but necessary thing to be ticked off the list. You'll be excused from the afternoon activities to take it. We want to move forward as quickly as possible so if for whatever reason your health is compromised, we would need time to find a replacement."

"Right, yes of course," I tried my best to remain calm. I had to find a solution and quickly.

"This afternoon please!" He prompted, making clear that there would be no more delays.

---

Helen's arms were around me in an instant and we braced against the handrail of the escalator. It was pitch-black, we wouldn't have seen death hurtling towards us if the tunnels collapsed in their entirety but at the time, I took solace in knowing if that was to be, I would die in Helen's arms. We waited for the tremors to subside or death to find us - whichever happened first - as we cowered together, hands digging into shoulders and arms, holding onto each other as much as we were holding our breaths.

"Are you okay?" Helen whispered at last and I nodded, doing my best not to let the darkness unnerve me.

"Yes, I think so, but the sonic... must have tumbled down the steps..." I reported mournfully though the far more important thing was that we were alive.

"We may yet find it," I could tell Helen was trying to sound optimistic but her voice came out flat, echoing through the darkness.

"Just hold on to my hand," I told her, attempting to muster optimism of my own and pushed away the thought that River and the Doctor might well have been buried in the collapse. "How did we lose the sonic when we have that blood lucky charm..." I huffed and Helen gave a chuckle:

"If in any other iteration of this, we would have fallen to our deaths, I suppose that is the least unfortunate outcome..." I could feel her reluctance as we slowly made our way down the stairs, feeling our way forward in the dark. "River and the Doctor-" She said at last, explaining her holding back.

"-will be fine, they will catch up, we have to keep going," I tried to sound as sure as I possibly could and ignore the nagging doubts.

"Liv... I really don't like the dark..." Helen squeezed my hand as if to make sure I was really there.

"Neither do I," I conceded. "Always been a bit of a weakness..."

It was a long way down still.

[peninkwrites]

Before: Karl and Quackity (don't) Date - Ch 3 of ?

Karl and Quackity go see a movie. Karl learns some things.

(CW: abuse, Schlatt.)

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 2

Ch 4

The Mafia AU

~

Karl calls Q first.  “Hello?”

“Hey, Q!  It’s Karl,” Karl paces his one room, twirling the cord through his fingers.  “I was wondering if… if you’d be free tonight?  I was thinking we could go see a movie?  I dunno how much you keep up with that stuff, but you ever heard of Monty Python?  It’s really fun.  I’ll… I’ll buy the popcorn?”

There’s only static over the line and Karl feels absolutely jittery.

“Um.  Yeah.  I can… I could go tonight.  Is it cool if we go to a theater across the river?  Do you know the one around Kings Park?”

“Across… yeah!  Yeah, sure.  I know it.  That’s cool,” Karl has no idea if it would be more expensive over there.  He doesn’t see why.  “Meet you there at like seven?”

“Okay, great.  Yeah– Yes, I’ll meet you there,” a weighted pause.  “And if… if I don’t show, don’t take it personally, alright?  Didn’t mean I didn’t want to come.”

“Oh,” Karl hopes he doesn’t sound too surprised.  “Okay.  Uh.  Well.  Hope I see you there..?”

“Okay, good.  Yeah, uh.  Me too.  Goodbye, Karl.”

“Bye, Q!” The phone clicks as he hangs up.  “Yes!” Karl punches the air, falling back onto his bed and kicking his feet.  “Okay, okay good.  You just gotta… gotta get there.”

Karl agreed to go to a theater across the river.  He does not have a car.  If he’s meeting Q at seven, he’d better start walking.

Quackity has his own troubles getting to Karl.  Schlatt hadn’t explicitly asked him to go to his place tonight, but Quackity doesn’t know if he can get away with several hours out of contact.  Last time he’d stormed off, Schlatt could easily assume he’d gone home and felt miserable alone, he’d let Quackity get away with just an apology because it had been their anniversary apparently.  The first time, Schlatt had known he was going to the police station, so that extra hour hadn’t been enough to raise suspicion.  Quackity needs an excuse if he gets back and Schlatt’s boys are waiting, saying Schlatt had been trying to get ahold of him.

Ask forgiveness or permission, huh?

Permission, Schlatt could just say no.  Obviously his request would be a lie, going out with classmates, something boring, with people he’d already established with Schlatt that he hated.  He’d already warned Karl it was a possibility, him not showing up, but he wanted this.  He didn’t want Schlatt to decide for him and to spend the rest of the night with him thinking about the other way it could have gone.  But forgiveness… forgiveness could get ugly.  Schlatt gets really impatient, Quackity comes home and gets dragged to his place, Schlatt asks where he was, that old lie of “I fell asleep at the library,” had stopped working when Schlatt had asked which library and had started calling him there, not that Quackity had known that until he’d seen Schlatt next and he’d asked him why the library clerk hadn’t been able to find him when he called, “didn’t think you were a heavy sleeper, huh?”   That had gotten ugly.

So maybe Quackity says something innocuous like “oh, some boring dinner with a professor, the whole class was there, it would’ve looked bad if I hadn’t gone.  I’m so sorry I forgot to tell you, I almost forgot about it at all.” some nice, desperate groveling.  But he still pays for it.  Quackity needs to decide if going through with this, if he’ll be able to hold onto that, whatever happens when he comes back to Schlatt.

It’s a fucking movie.  You should be able to go see a fucking movie without being this scared.

With something almost vengeful, Quackity grabs his keys.

He parks down the street from the theater.  Quackity spends too much time on the West side.  That’s where the University actually is, the housing he’d ended up living in because it was cheap and closer to Schlatt is off campus, but again, he has a car.  Maybe he should feel safer this side of the river, Schlatt doesn’t have any power here, but it’s all so fucking uptight and fancy and the cops act like they own the place.  Quackity can blend in relatively well.  He owns a few suits, he can name the fancy law school he’s attending, but that only holds up in conversation with these people until they ask him what do your parents do for a living?  He’s meant to be a lawyer.  He’s good at fighting with his words, especially with the fucking idiots in charge over here.

Quackity stands outside the theater, it’s much bigger than any of the ones on the East side, newer.  He feels agitated.  What if Karl had already gone inside?  It’s after seven.

“Q!” Karl shouts his name, drawing many looks.

“Jesus Christ– Karl, don’t–” Quackity puts a hand over his chest.  “Don’t scare me like that–”

“Sorry!  Sorry, I didn’t want you to think I didn’t show,” Karl says breathlessly.

Quackity stares at him.  “You walked here?”

“Uh, yeah.  I don’t have a car.”

“There’s– You could’ve gotten a cab, or–”

“No!  No, it’s fine, really–”

“I could’ve picked you up, man, what if you’d shown up here and I hadn’t been able to come?” Quackity frowns.

Karl shrugs.  “I dunno.  Don’t worry about it, okay?  I made it, and so did you!  It’s only like, ten after, we probably just missed the previews, come on,” Karl grabs his hand and heads up to the booth.

Quackity feels startled, staring at Karl’s hand holding onto his.  He doesn’t pull away.  The movie is good.  Karl looking at Quackity every time he laughs is better.

“So?” They leave the theater, and Karl is looking at him too hopefully.

“So, what?”

“Did you like it?”

“Oh, oh, yeah.  I did,” Quackity nods.

Karl smiles at him and Quackity feels honored.  “Okay, okay good!  Did you know coconuts do migrate?”

“What?” Quackity laughs.

“Yeah!  Yeah, they float between islands!  That’s migrating!” Karl says excitedly.

“I mean, I guess?!”

“What’d you mean guess?  It’s a fact!” Karl grins.  “Hey– Hey, d’you want to head over to Kings Park?  It’s still early and I am so sick of sitting still now.”

“Uh,” Quackity glances down at his watch.  It’s almost 9.  The sun hasn’t even set all the way yet.  He should leave.  He doesn’t want to.  “Yeah, yeah sure.”

“Okay, okay cool!” Karl goes skipping ahead to the park across the street, Quackity following more slowly, hands buried in his pockets.  It’s cooler now, the summer days punishing, but this is easier.  He doesn’t know how Karl keeps that coat on.  No wonder he gets stopped by the cops, wearing a coat right now is bound to look shady,

Karl hops up onto the low stone wall circling the park, walking along it with careful balance.

“Careful, dude you’re gonna fall on your ass,” Quackity doesn’t know why he feels worried for him as he tilts dangerously.

“Nope!” Karl says brightly.  “If you’re nervous why don’t you come over here?” Karl waves his hand, offering it to him.

Quackity hesitates only for a moment.  He takes it, letting Karl use him for balance as he continues to walk along the wall.  Quackity looks up at him, face too soft, too young, as he stares at his footsteps with utter concentration, lit by the shop windows across the street, he glows.  Quackity’s chest aches, bittersweet, as he marvels at something surely not meant for him.

“You gonna catch me?”

“Why would I have to c–”

Quackity’s yearning is replaced by panic as Karl almost falls on top of him, Quackity grabbing his waist out of panicked instinct and helping him back onto even ground.

“What the fuck– you can’t just drop in on me like that,” Quackity says flusteredly, quick to let go, even as he’s holding back a laugh.

“Aw but you did such a good job!” Karl smiles goofily.

“A little more warning next time,” Quackity tries to scold him, but he’s smiling too, even with those words, next time, echoing in the back of his head.  “Hey, uh, I just… I just want to apologize again.  For the other day.  Me calling you like that, it wasn’t cool–”

“You don’t have to apologize for that,” Karl sounds too sincere.

Quackity laughs nervously, “uh, well, it’s not something I normally do or was planning on doing, and was kind of a shit second impression, so, just let me say it, okay?”

“Okay, I mean.  Yeah, you can say what you want, but you don’t have to,” Karl shrugs, sauntering deeper into the park, Quackity close behind him.  Karl runs ahead up to the bridge over an artificial pond.

He turns around, planting himself in the middle of the bridge and holding out a hand to block Quackity’s path.  “Stop!  Who would cross the bridge must answer me these questions three, uh,” Karl fumbles for the rest of the line, “if the other side to see?”

Quackity laughs, “really?  I mean, I’m not really on a quest for the holy grail, am I?  It’s a public park.”

“No,” Karl shakes his head.  “That’s the rule!  You gotta answer my questions, or I won’t let you across.”

“Okay, fine, go on, what’d you got?  The capital of Newfoundland or something?”

“What is…” A weighted, well measured pause.  “Your name?”

Quackity immediately falters.  Karl is still lighthearted, he doesn’t mean anything by it and Quackity doesn’t have to answer, but it’s not fucking fair that just answering honestly feels dangerous.

“Um, do you want to phone a friend?” Karl whispers.  “I can give you the first and last letter.”  The pause continues.  “And all the letters in between, I guess, Technically.”

“Quackity.”

“What?”

“My name.  It’s Quackity.”

Karl looks surprised for a moment.  “Oh!”  He doesn’t seem to know what to do now.  “Do you… do you want me to call you that, or Q?”

Quackity shrugs.  “Either works.”

“Okay, cool.  Guess I couldn’t have told you all the letters, then,” Karl is staring at him, eyes too wide, too earnest.  Everything about Karl feels like too much.  He’s too kind, too attentive, too fun to be around.

“Do I get to cross the bridge now?” Quackity teases.

“It’s three questions.  Unless you wanna fight your way across,” Karl raises his fists, giving a few fumbling jabs at the air.

“Shit, dude, has no one ever taught you how to throw a punch?  Or are you kidding right now?” Quackity is almost amazed by his clumsiness.

“Um, I’m supposed to ask the questions, actually,” Karl says pompously.  “And why do you think I’d know how to throw a punch?  In what situation?”

“Dude, you’re– You’re running around the city with a bunch of expensive shit in your jacket,” Quackity says exasperatedly.  “Do you at least carry a knife?”

“No?  The cops have enough to fine me for when they pick me up without adding a knife to things,” Karl scoffs.

“Fuck, man.  You’re hopeless,” Quackity sighs.  “Come’re,” he nods Karl in front of him.  “Show me what you just did again.”  Quackity winces.  “Okay, now try like this,” Quackity slowly demonstrates, “turn your wrist and move forward as you do it.”

Karl watches him carefully, making a hesitant attempt.

“Let me,” Quackity steps up behind him, his hand covering Karl’s, curving his fist for him.  Karl glances back at him over his shoulder, looking almost mesmerized, his cheeks are dusted pink, but maybe they always are.  Quackity is suddenly aware of Karl against his chest, their faces inches apart.  He steps back.  “Like… like that,” he doesn’t look at Karl’s face now.  

“Cool,” Karl’s voice comes out a little hoarse.  He clears his throat.  “I’ll be a boxing champ before you know it.”

Quackity laughs dryly.  “Uh, it’s getting late, I should… I should probably go,” he shifts from foot to foot.

“Yeah!  Yeah, for sure.  This was really fun, dude.”

“Yeah, uh.  I mean, d’you want a ride home?” Quackity offers.

Karl is still especially smiley.  “Yeah, that’d be great.”

They’re quieter on the drive over.  Quackity parks outside Karl’s building, but Karl doesn’t get out just yet.

“You could come up, if you wanted.  Not for…” Karl pauses.  “Just to like, keep talking…”

“I, uh.�� I gotta get going,” Quackity says it like an apology.

“Okay,” Karl nods, getting out.  “But… you have my number, and I have yours, right?  I’ll call you.  Or you’ll call me.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Karl gives him another smile, too soft, too gentle, why is he so gentle?  “Good night, Quackity.”

Quackity feels a shiver run up his spine.  Quackity.  “Good night, Karl.”

Quackity drives home feeling this irritating mixture of content and uneasy.  He had fun tonight.  More fun than he’s had in a long time.  It also feels wrong.  He hadn’t kissed Karl tonight, but he’d stood so close to him, he’d held his hand, and somehow that almost feels worse.  Before Quackity can make up his mind, to be happy for himself or not, he finds he doesn’t have have a choice.  Three unpleasantly familiar faces have made camp outside of his building, smoking and talking amongst themselves until one of them points out Quackity’s car.  Quackity could leave.  He could fucking reverse out of here and make himself Karl’s problem for the night.  He has no right to do that.  Quackity parks the car.  Schlatt’s boys don’t come closer, they wait.  They know he’s not stupid enough to run.  Quackity no longer needs to worry himself with his conflicting emotions, instead it is easily drowned out by dread.

~

It’s been a few days and Karl doesn’t really know what to make of… whatever the past few days had been.  Quackity is entitled to his secrets, it’s not like Karl is squeaky clean.  He had called Quackity again, another flatmate had answered, shortly said “he’s not here.”

Karl had asked him to take a message, the response had been irritable and dismissive.

“I’ll do it, but he probably won’t be back to see it for a few days,” and hung up.  So he’ll give it a few more days.

Karl keeps himself busy.  He is good at his job, better than most, but half his profits go to his debts, and what remains gets divided between the cheap rent he gets staying in a one room apartment the size of a generous closet and scrounging enough together for food.  Karl is getting more tempted to give up on paying rent and take up Tina’s offer of her couch.

Karl has also, annoyingly, had to move street corners.  A cop had been watching him all morning.  Here he is, in a new part of the city he’s not used to working, feeling irritated that last week he had to cough up all of that day’s earnings to keep out of jail.  That had set him back enough to warrant a breakdown.  Although apparently not enough for him not to waste most of his food budget on buying a pizza for the drunk guy who had called him out of nowhere.

Karl had been called sweet before, less often had he been called cautious.

He sees a couple of guys in suits out of the corner of his eye and turns toward them.  Then he sees a familiar face.  “Oh hey Q–!”

Quackity’s eyes widen, he looks horrified, quickly shaking his head.

“...Uh,” Karl doesn’t know what to do now.  The man beside Quackity turns to face him.

“This guy bothering you, sugar?” He puts his arm around Quackity’s waist, pulling him close.  He’s older.  Probably in his 30s.  His voice is rough and unfriendly, his mutton chops add to the aggressive energy he exudes.  He gives Karl a once over, scathing and unimpressed.

“C-Can I help you?” Quackity’s words come out almost disinterested, if not a bit hoarse, as he still stares at Karl, begging him for something, or rather begging him for nothing, begging him to say nothing, to do nothing, to get out now.

Karl is distracted from Quackity’s pleading gaze by a ring of purple around his neck, so blatant that Karl can see where his thumbs dug into Quackity’s throat.  He looks between Quackity and the stranger and feels nauseous.

“The fuck do you want?” The man sneers.

“Um,” Karl is trying so hard to think.  He doesn’t know what he’s meant to do, or how to help.  So he goes with his default.  “...d’you wanna buy a watch?”

The man laughs, harsh and loud.  Karl sees Quackity flinch.

“Do you know who I am?”

“Um. No?”

The man still only looks amused.  He smirks.  “Sure you don’t recognize the name JSchlatt?”

Karl pales, feeling as if he’d skipped a step going down the stairs.  “…oh god.”

Schlatt laughs again and Karl isn’t sure why but he feels humiliated, he thinks, fleetingly, that Quackity might too from the way he’s staring at the ground.  “Yeah, yeah.  I’ll let you go this time just for the fuckin’ look on your face, but next time be careful who you try selling to,” Schlatt pulls Quackity in closer, keeping him literally pinned to his side, “you never know who they might belong to.”

Quackity doesn’t say anything, staring at the cracked concrete like a puzzle he’s struggling to solve.  He lets Schlatt press a messy kiss against his temple.

“Right.” Karl feels frozen, he’s staring at Schlatt’s hand on Quackity’s waist, the way his fingertips dig in.  “Sorry.”

“Okay now get the fuck outta here.”

Karl is frozen for another moment.  He thinks about how Quackity had showed him how to throw a punch.  He turns and leaves.

Karl doesn’t know where he is going.  He doesn’t know what he’s thinking or what he’s supposed to do, but now he understands what “taken, sort of,” means.  It means one of the most dangerous men in the city has him in an apparently literal stranglehold.

Karl also now understands “get shot hurt.”

That fact echoing in the back of his head is the only thing stopping him from turning back around and telling Quackity, “please come home with me, and don’t ever leave,” even if he barely knows the guy.  Somehow the more he learns about him, the less he feels like he actually understands.

How did Quackity end up dating JSchlatt?  Quackity is surely his age, early 20s, and Schlatt is definitely not that.

Quackity had called him, drunk and desperate.  Karl had arrived and it had taken minutes for Quackity first try to kiss him and ended up crying not soon after.  That, combined with the smug face he’d seen today, almost scared him more than the bruises.  The bruises really scared him, though.  Karl doesn’t know what to do.  So he goes home, and he waits for a phone call.  He falls asleep still waiting, and the following morning has to decide if he’s going to try and earn some money today or keep waiting for a phone call that might not come.  He didn’t have a bunch of roommates to irritatedly take a message for him.  So Karl leaves, and hopes he doesn’t miss it.

Quackity isn’t planning on calling Karl, and he certainly isn’t expecting a call from him first.  He’d ruined it.  Ruined something he shouldn’t have had in the first place, as if he’d ever had it at all.  It had been a pipe dream, a stupid, fleeting choice that had been doomed to blow up in both of their faces.  This is better, surely.  Quackity would let Karl fade from his mind, if only remembered for the brief horror at the sight of him accompanied by Schlatt.  Quackity had done his best not to look at him, but he still saw, of course he fucking saw Karl staring at Schlatt’s hand on his hip like it was something dead or monstrous.

It was humiliating.

Quackity hadn’t planned on leaving the house at all that day.  He’d been stuck at Schlatt’s since he’d been dragged there after his date– not a date, his whatever– with Karl.  Whether or not Schlatt had believed his excuse of some boring dinner with his class was irrelevant.  Quackity had still paid for it.  He’d called his professors and said he’d come down with something, his ragged voice was more than enough to convince them.  So he’d stayed at the house, tiptoeing around Schlatt and trying to get back in his good graces.

Tubbo, the only other person to talk to in that house, had avoided him like the plague, like Quackity’s ability to incur Schlatt’s wrath might rub off on him.  Still, even if Tubbo wasn’t much for conversation or company, he was still something.  The boy moved silently through the house with well-practiced precision, the closest thing to an interaction the two of them had had was Tubbo padding into the kitchen at the same time as him the morning after the worst of it.  He’d gone to the cabinet at the right of the sink, had placed a bottle of aspirin in front of where Quackity sat at the counter, head in his hands, coffee going cold in front of him.  He’d left the room before Quackity had even noticed it.

Schlatt had been perfectly civil most of the time, but there was still that edge of warning that made it painful for Quackity to swallow, for more reason than one.

Schlatt had said, “let’s go out.  You’re turning into a fucking shut in, d’you know that?” despite being the primary reason Quackity was waiting for permission to leave the house.

Quackity hadn’t wanted to.  The bruises weren’t yet faded.  It was summer, he couldn’t get away with a scarf.  But who is there to run into on the East side?  All of his colleagues would be on campus across the river.  And of-fucking-course out of all the people to see, it had to be Karl.

“What a pathetic lookin’ guy.  Did you see the look on his fucking face?  Thought he was gonna piss himself when I said my name,” Schlatt laughs, arm still around him, still digging in enough to bruise.  Maybe his behavior is just overprotective, more like territorial.

“Yeah,” Quackity replies as he’s expected to.  He almost wants to turn back and see if Karl is still in his line of sight.  He doesn’t dare.  You ruined it, HQ.  Because of course you did.  It wasn’t yours to fucking ruin anyway.  Quackity is swallowed by shame.  He doesn't know when he became this passive in his own captivity.

“Why’ve you been so mopey lately, babe?” Schlatt responds to his reservations with patronization.  Schlatt hasn’t taken his hands off of him since they left the house.

They’re in public.  Quackity knows no one can really stop Schlatt, if they tried, again, all it took was Schlatt’s name and they’d leave him to it, but maybe it just makes him a little bolder to think there would be witnesses.

“I dunno, maybe I’m just a little sullen, ‘cause you fucking choked me out for not telling you exactly where I was 24 hours a day?” Quackity snaps, pulling away from Schlatt’s hold on him.

Schlatt holds on tighter before he can break free, arm wrapping around Quackity’s ribs and squeezing like he’s trying to crush the life out of him, he leans in close, his beard scratching Quackity’s neck as he whispers through gritted teeth, “maybe I wouldn’t have to choke you out if you remembered your place, eh?”

Quackity remains rigid as a board, not deigning to retort when Schlatt seemed already close to cracking a rib.

“Huh?” Schlatt goads him to snap back.  Quackity refuses, refusing to even flinch when Schlatt jostles him like he’s a rag doll.  Schlatt still takes too much satisfaction in his silence.  “That’s what I fucking thought.  You’re my bitch.”

Quackity is furious.  All he can think of is the look on Karl’s face, even as Quackity had tried to ignore it, when Schlatt had said he belonged to him.

“No, I’m– No, I’m done for today,” Quackity, with a sudden burst of fight, squirms free of Schlatt’s hold, stomping on his foot a one point, and pushing Schlatt hard enough that he almost stumbles, just to get him to let go.

“Done with fucking what?!” Schlatt snarls, grabbing onto Quackity’s wrist with a vice-like hold.  “Don’t you walk away from me!  Were you not listening?”

“No!  No you’re gonna fucking listen to me, Schlatt, you’re pushing too far.  So I am going to go home for today, and I will call you tomorrow, okay?” Quackity twists free.  He knows how to turn his wrist so Schlatt is forced to let go, even if he knows his grip is already going to bruise.

“You don’t decide that shit, you got that?  You’re fucking pathetic– You think you can boss me around?  Maybe if you try lifting a little more, sweetheart, but you’re like a fucking baby bird–” Schlatt makes the mistake of going to grab onto him again.

Quackity snaps.

With expert precision, he swings at Schlatt’s jaw, fist turning with his wrist, just as he’d shown Karl.  Schlatt doesn’t fall.  He does stagger back, leaning against a streetlight to keep his balance.  Quackity doesn’t wait around for Schlatt to return the favor.  Quackity thinks turning and running might be the bravest thing he’s done in the past two years.

[sugalaritae]

lost myth of true love (kth) 1

summary: for six months you wait for him, a weekend spent together, finally able to reach the man your soul is tethered to.

pairing: Kim Taehyung x female Reader

au: supernatural, soulmates

genre: angst, longing, not fluff but deep love??, sooooft smut

warnings: lots of angst and sadness, brief mentions of sex, nipples, wet genitalia ;), cock warming, sort of hinted at creampie, taehyung just got out of the shower, descriptions and admiration of jungkook's tattoos

rating: 18+ (there will be smut at a later date)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: this idea came to me like a bolt last night while i was listening to hozier (thank you to andrew hozier-byrne for the title as well) and i had to write it. i had such immense help from @augustbutwinter @miscelunaaa and @wwilloww (who also made this wonderful banner). thank you three for everything!! this is also for the absolutely wonderful, talented, helpful, and fantastic human @illneverrecover for the possumversary!! thank you possums for letting me into the dumpster. you have all helped me so immensely 💖💖 this is the first part of a small drabble series. i hope you enjoy it

series masterlist || next

© sugalaritae, 2022. you do not have any permission to repost or translate my work even if you give credit. all of this is mine.

There’s a knock at the door.

You can’t believe that your time is almost up.

The sinking feeling that stays in the centre of your chest slowly begins to show itself again. You had just gotten rid of it. Or so you thought.

It’s been there since you can remember, and yet you bask in that rush of coolness as the feeling slowly disappears with each kiss against your neck, shoulders, legs. Taehyung’s long fingers paint soft lines against your skin causing the feeling to slowly float further away from you, like a raft pushed not far enough onto the sand.

The raft will only be pushed back toward you by the tide, as it can never get as far as you would like it to.

You would like it gone, washed away completely, to watch it slowly float into the distance, becoming smaller and smaller with every lap of water against the rough ropes and worn-down wood.

You would like to have more time with him, unwatched, unmonitored. But Jungkook is always there, always watching. Knowing that the younger man (if you can call him that) hears everything that happens behind the door that he guards reminds you that time is fleeting. You are always being watched. Someone always waits and while they do, you watch the hand of time, who waits for no one.

Every moment shared with him is written down. You spend a whole day after he leaves recording all that you can remember. Every whispered word of praise and love is written down so that you can look back on it when you miss him the most.

For now though, you stare at the door as if it were knocked on by a person (or thing) that you loathe, and not the sweet tattooed being standing on the other side.

The bathroom door opens and Taehyung walks out, running a small towel over his hair which hangs heavy against his forehead, a white hotel towel wrapped loosely around his waist. Ten years you have known and loved him, and you still find yourself shocked by how beautiful he is. 

You are still shocked that he is yours.

He cannot change; he is frozen while time moves all around him, and yet when you see him he looks new, as if you are seeing him for the first time all over again. Every time he arrives and takes you into his arms, you are certain that he has changed because no being in this universe should be able to look like that.

“What’s wron–” he starts before another knock on the door rings through the room.

He must not have heard the first knock behind the second door, but he should have guessed from the look you were giving it.

You watch as he walks toward the door to the hotel hallway and slides the chain over and out. You hear the slip of the metal against the wooden frame before you see it, obscured by his hand.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know that there are only a few hours until sunrise,” Jungkook’s voice slips into the room and grates against your skin.

There was a time when you found solace in his voice. When you talked about music over coffee in the hotel lobbies while Taehyung slept upstairs. When you wondered what those hands would feel like against your skin. Whether there would be a change in feel of his skin as you touched his tattoos. All of that has since passed. You can’t remember when it did, but you guess it was around seven years ago when your time with Taehyung became shorter due to reasons that were far out of both your control and his. You couldn’t get angry or frustrated with Taehyung though, so instead, it all became directed at Jungkook. He seemed shocked at first, but had since grown used to it.

Perhaps he mourns the friendship you used to have. Perhaps he wants to get angry with you now. Wants to shake you and tell you that everything you’re feeling is not his fault but Yoongi’s. That he is the wrong man to be upset with.

You watch the muscles in Taehyung’s back move as he keeps one hand on the door. You can hear every word, and it is a conversation that you have heard before. You almost know it by heart. They change a few lines here and there, but they are actors in roles in which you have watched them for a decade: and nothing has changed.

Including the way Taehyung’s shoulders clench as Jungkook mentions that the two of them need to leave before sunrise and not during.

You know the conversation will end soon and yet you say his name, wincing internally at the way you sound like a woman in one of those old movies, sultrily asking their lover to “come back to bed.”

The door closes and you close your eyes. Mere hours left with the man you love. The man your soul is tied to.

He sits on the edge of the bed and bends over to kiss your neck softly before he whispers that he is sorry, the word falling like another kiss, this one bitter and coated in sadness. You don’t want to cry. Crying feels so useless: this is something you’ve been through before and yet—

His fingers slip up your arm, across your collarbone and down your breast, his thumb brushing against your nipple s l o w l y. It pulls a moan from deep in your chest, where love sits and is filled in by the feeling of loneliness.

The raft is being directed by the tide toward your beach.

Your fingers pull at him, needing him closer.

The towel falls away as you feel his fingers against your wet sex. He moves quickly between your legs and pushes into you, pulling a moan from both of you that fills the room as he settles in you.

You make love, slow at times, hard and rushed at others. It ends with him spooning you. He stays inside your heat as his arms hold you close to his chest and he shares his warmth with you where your skin touches.

“I love you,” he whispers and you slowly separate so you can turn and face him.

“I love you too,” you say back to him, despite the shattering of your heart.

You will see him again in six months. You will share everything with each other that first day and you will kiss and fuck for the second day, until the sun comes up. Then he will kiss you goodbye, and slip out of the room with Jungkook beside him. This is the life you have with your soulmate, the one you love, the one you are bound to. You will envy those who have easier soulmates but that feeling will only last a week, and then you will get used to that sinking feeling again. You will float out to sea on your raft and wait to be pulled back in.

___

tag list: @herecomesjoon @neverendingforever

[uncouth-the-fifth]

Prompt 138 and 189 for Dames pls🥺🥺

138. "Were you just masturbating?" and 189. "I don't know what to do." / "Then let me teach you," with Damian Wayne.

i claimed i was going to start writing shy readers, then i immediately wrote the boldest reader ever 🤰 that’s my legacy. set when Damian still lives at the manor at about 19 <3

The house was suspiciously quiet. You knew that Bruce and Alfred would be gone, but considering how your texts were left on delivered, Damian had probably forgotten you were coming over. Or, some grand adventure had carried him away for the night. You tried to brace yourself for disappointment as your footsteps padded through the echoing halls of the house. Worse case scenario, Damian had forgotten and you’d get to make dinner and spend time with Alfred, like last time.

Even after being Damian’s girlfriend for several months, the Manor still intimidated you. It’s structure was confusing and sound travelled oddly, like it was cushioned by the breath of the Wayne family ghosts. You weren’t freaked out, per se. But you did sneak a little quieter while looking for Damian.

When you couldn’t find him in the library or with his pets in the observatory, your last option was his room. Again, you were daunted with the task of remembering which door was Damian’s, since they all looked the same.

A muffled sound drew you to the middlemost door in the hall. Damian was the only one who lived at home anymore, so it had to be him.

Still spooked by the rest of the house, you took the handle and eased it open as quietly as you could. Damian could be napping. He could be painting, or sketching, and neither would make a good moment to disturb him. He could be—

Touching himself. Naked.

Damian had just gotten out of the shower. His bronze shoulders were dotted with water drops, and his short, tousled black hair was shiny and damp. There was a sexy, tired edge to his face that told you he’d had an awful day - then it broke into shy bliss when his thumb brushed his tip. One hand held him up, sitting at his bedside with his legs spread and a towel open under his thighs. He was stunningly hard. The long, girthy dick that you’d only glimpsed on accident before sat awkwardly in Damian’s hands, and it occurred to you that this was the first time he’d ever done this. He’d never pleasured himself before.

Not once. If you thought about it (and you did, often), Damian seemed too prude and impersonal to satisfy himself that way. It was more in character for him to beat on a punching bag for a couple hours instead of destressing... like this.

You locked your surprised gasp in your throat, arm jerking to slam the door. A thousand apologies came to mind. But you couldn’t lie to yourself.

It was hot, and you wanted to watch.

This, of course, was right when Damian noticed you. Before you could blink, he was across the room, the towel was around his waist again and he was snarling at you, face explosively red. Damian cursed in Arabic. He moved to slam the door in your face, spitting in shame, but you were in the way of the frame. It felt like your feet were glued to the floor.

Your boyfriend, with his moist muscles, his sexy scars, getting a hard on for you... Thinking about you a little too deeply in the shower, and emerging to resolve it himself... Damian had only gotten turned on with you once before - you’d been making out, hands in each other’s shirts and tongues in each other’s mouths, only for him to suddenly bolt up and disappear. You wondered what he’d been thinking about. Or even better, who.

Stupidly, you asked, “...Were you just masturbating?”

“No, I was battling Clayface,” Damian snapped. “What do you think I was doing, L/N?”

“Wait!” You yelped, but you couldn’t understand why he’d want to. “Was... Is this your first time doing that?”

Damian glared at you hard enough to steamroll you, shame leaking out of his pores. If you dared to look between you - and you did - he was still painfully hard, and so, so big. Drool pooled into your mouth without your permission, and you had to audibly swallow it to be able to speak again. When Damian realized where you’d peeked, he blanched. He was still soaking wet. (You probably were, too).

He shuffled in place, and did something that surprised you. Damian avoided your eyes. “Why should you care? And - and what are you even doing here?”

“You texted me that you missed me last weekend. You wanted to teach me chess, and I think you said that we could talk about the book we’re reading together,” you babbled. “We... we made plans for today? It’s okay if you don’t remember... um, it looks like you had a very hard day...”

To help your predicament, you added with a sigh, “...Very hard.”

Damian cleared his throat. He put a hand on the doorframe beside you, bicep raised by your face. “...I - I did. Miss you.”

Again, you gestured to his towel. “I can tell.”

He shot you a flat look that very clearly read, not funny. Damian forced himself to stand still, at a total loss for words beyond that point. To you, it looked like an opening.

“Maybe I could...” you hooked your finger into the waist of his towel, moving deeper into his space, “help you with that?”

Damian smelled like pure sex. Beneath that was his heady bodywash and shampoo, which floated off him like his humidity did, intoxicating and full of flavor. It was like stepping into the radius of a love spell. You already loved Damian, but the heat coming off of him made you want to show him how much.

His expression was demure. Damian lifted his chin to snatch up his remaining dignity, and you didn’t miss his sacrifice of vulnerability. “...Yes. I didn’t... I didn't know what to do.”

Damian’s answer winded you. Your sudden role-reversal was strange, but the newness was welcome. Usually, you were the embarrassed one that Damian was teaching, so an opportunity to teach him - especially about something like this - seemed irresistible. And Damian admitting that he wasn’t equipped for something? He might as well have dropped down on one knee and given you a ring.

“Then let me teach you.”

He allowed you to slide past him, and quietly, aware of his self-indulgence, shut the door with a click. Damian shuffled back to his bed and sat down, chewing his lip. As cute as he was when nervous, you wanted him to enjoy this, so you gifted him a warm, sweet kiss before you eased your hand around his thigh. Damian returned it with a muffled hum, warmed by the taste.

You both sighed. The stress seem to leave his frame like air out of a beaten balloon, relaxing his back. Still, his fingers twitched at his sides, and only more so when you chased your kiss to your knees and encouraged him to lay back. 

He had the courage to watch, so you found the charisma to ask him, “Comfortable?”

Damian nodded, shy.

“Can I touch you, beautiful?”

Again, Damian closed his eyes and shivered out a gruff yes.

Opening the towel was a gift within itself. Damian’s bulge practically opened it up on it’s own, popping free, unrestrained. If it seemed big before, it was huge in your palm. Just holding it made Damian hiss. His cock was proud and freshly cleaned, begging to be tasted. A string of drool slid off your tongue and pooled around his rosy tip, making Damian gasp and wince. You rolled the wetness down his veiny shaft, reveling in his little noises, the way his toes and fingers curled in delight. Not once did you forget that you were the first person to ever touch him like this - neither did Damian, who looked at you like he would do anything to be touched.

“Like this,” you whispered.

The shape of the tip was made for your mouth. Once he was nice and slick, that was the first place you took him, curling your tongue around his dripping, bulbous head. Damian melted, shoulders first. Taking even a little bit of him into your mouth required your lips to wrap around him, and you sucked until the fit was snug - an inch or two in. Otherwise he hung in your hand, desperate to be squeezed. You closed his shaft in your fist and twisted, hastened by pre-cum and spit, until Damian’s thighs tensed into rock.

Finally, you took his closest hand curled it around his cock. With his knuckles under your palm, you showed Damian how to guide himself into your mouth, and how to do it without you. His chest puttered up and down with every drag, his hand working at a dangerous pace. Soon, he was a pro with enthusiasm. Damian met your mouth with his hand every time.

With a shaken sputter of your name, Damian came. Like a dam, he flooded into your mouth, filling and filling until it felt like you’d drank an entire cup of his cum. It drizzled over your chin and down your neck, which fluttered with every breath and mouthful you gulped down.

“I-I think I understand, now,” Damian said, throat hoarse and breath spent, “but just in case... Would you mind showing me that again?”

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

ᴀ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ’ꜱ ɪɴꜱᴛɪɴᴄᴛ | ɢᴇɴꜱʜɪɴ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ ; ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ!ᴢʜᴏɴɢʟɪ x ᴅᴇᴍɪ ɢᴏᴅ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ⚠️NSFW [19+]⚠️

Heyoooo!!! It’s been a second hasn’t it? Lololol my bad uwu;; I’ve been doing a lot drawing lately, so I’ve been focusing a lot on that instead of writing— mainly since it requires less brain power for me SKKSSKSK anywho, in celebration of crowning Zhongli in game, I’ve decided to sin—- after talking with Admin T for a bit LOLOL thus, another Femdom fic is born SKSKSK 

As always, thank you all so much for the love and support~! We really appreciate it~!

Art is from my Art Blog: @ko-ffeine​

TW: BDSM ; Chains ; Flogging ; Overstimulation ; Blindfolds ; Shackles ; Collars / Leashes ; Muzzles ; Bondage / Restraints ; Riding ; Face Sitting ; Marking ; Vibratiors ; Breath Play

》》Admin Ko

»»————-　♔　————-««

Decades. It had been decades since her arrival to Teyvat. Thinking back to it, (y/n) hadn’t even realized the bonds she’s made after awakening in the depths of Dragonspine. Though it was best for her to not dwell on the past. After all, she learned early on with her revival that sticking to the past only brought unwanted trouble. 

The sound of chains clattering against marble awoke her out of her thoughts as she peered back to the bundle of chains on all fours. A long scaly tail whipping back and forth impatiently as heated glowing amber orbs bore deeply into her own (e/c) ones. 

“Morax…”

A soft sigh escaped her as she made her way over to the former archon. The loose hanfu that danced along her smooth skin had the dragon keen in want. The metal cage strapped to his mouth prevented his fangs from sinking into her supple flesh. The desire to mark and claim what was rightfully his was strung up high in his head as he strained against the enchanted chains that bound his wrists together. The hefty weight of the gold collar around his throat only further added  to his inability to surge forward as the chain attached to the device around his throat only allowed him so much distance. 

“You were being so good earlier. What’s gotten you riled up?”

Though soothing in tone, (y/n)’s expression was anything but as she marveled at the way the Geo Archon was presented before her. The night before his heat had gotten a hold of him, he had given her permission to be just as rough with him to ensure her safety—- and well, she wasted no time in taking advantage of the opportunity presented to her. 

In a flurry of motions she had skillfully wrapped the archon’s body in beautiful golden ropes. Each one accentuating the toned muscle from eons of war and battles. The delicious flush of red that painted his skin as she continued to further restrain the male only set her belly a flame. 

After all, the initial restraints were only mild. It wasn’t until the late evening did she realize how intensive she had to truly restrain her lover. Enchanted chains shackled him down. A leather muzzle had initially been placed to keep him from biting her, but was quickly forgone as he had ruined that within the span 15 minutes. Thus resulting in the current metal cage that adorned his haughty features. 

The collar and leash combo? That had only occurred when she had attempted to leave for the bathroom— only to be slammed into the floor with a lustful dragon dry humping against her as he snarled and growled at the fact he wasn’t able to sink his teeth into her flesh. 

The end resulted in the intensive flogging that only further fueled both party’s lust. 

“Little one~….”

A pang of warmth hit her as she broke out of her memories from last night to meet his impatient amber orbs.

“I should’ve attached the one with the bar in between just so you wouldn’t distract me.”  

Shaking her head, she made her way over to the male, and once she was within reach his tail immediately latched onto her leg. Easily trailing up to press against her cunt as he fervently surged forward to press himself against her. Yet of course, due to the damn muzzle in his way he could only be tantalizingly a breath away from his goal. 

The pressure his cock held did little to alleviate the pain as the desire to breed into her deeply sprang forth.

A hefty growl came from him as he pushed her even more until she tumbled onto her back. The morning sun only added to the ethereal effect as he pressed himself as close to her as he could. 

“Let me fuck you, Little one…wanna breed you until you’re full of my seed…bearing my children…”

A blush dusted across her features as he continued on before he was suddenly yanked back. A choked gasp came from him as he struggled against the Dendro vines that appeared as the vineyard appendages held him still. Each intimately wrapping around him to keep him seated in a frog tie. The leash having been jerked enough to keep him still as he let out a garbled growl.

“So feisty…this is getting interesting little one…”

“I think it’s time for you to stop talking Morax. I’d rather hear the sounds you truly want to make.”  

“Oh ho? How do you plan on doing that?” 

Taunting and ever so prideful, the mighty dragon refused to back down as he strained to get as close to her as he could. Her nearing form did little to deter the desire to fuck her thoroughly. Though before he could even do much the vines came forth to hold his head still. Smaller ones easily kept his lips open as he struggled to chomp and tear the greenery away. Yet with this, he failed to notice her swiftly remove the muzzle before replacing it with a strong and sturdy ring gag. His mouth now forcibly open as drool began escaping down his chin. 

“Haaah?”

“Not so tough now huh? Like the chains, my lovely Archon, this was also enchanted~. I had the chance to put some of my former power into this device. So I’m confident that it won’t break~.”

Grinning, she watched as the funeral consultant tested the new device before grunting as a flare of his nostrils showed his displeasure in the newly placed device.

“Now that that has been settled, I do believe you should be put to use.” 

A guttural sound of confusion came from Zhongli before darkness overcame him. Leafs? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that his sense of touch was beginning to heighten and his sense of smell was driving him over the wall as he could practically taste how wet her cunt was. 

Almost as if a learned reaction, the dragon’s tongue fervently searched for her as he reached out. His once ‘normal’ tongue now long and thick as his fangs extended ever so slightly over the metal ring of the gag. Freedom from the device was so close, yet as this occurred…

“Guh?! Haah..nnn ”

The metal shifted to accommodate the change Zhongli brought on; and as if to spite him, the device seemed to meld to form a stricter grasp around his face as a metal band formed over his nose bridge, further enforcing the fact that the device was not coming off.

“Ahhh, is, ish nah wha ah wha—ed” 

“Oh? You’ll have to use your words more clearly, love~”

Her tone only further fanned the flames of lust in his belly as he continued to obscenely drool all over the marble floors. Though his attempts at reprimanding her were stilled as he let out a muffled grunt before an animal like moan and growl tore through his throat as he finally got a taste of her juices. 

Oh how he wished to sink his claws into her supple flesh. Mark the terrain with his love bites and scent. Yet with all the restraints scattered about his body, all he could do was eagerly lap at her pussy with his tongue to the best of his abilities. 

And by the sounds she was making, he was doing quite the job. Easily, with his long tongue he teased and taunted her slick walls. All of her weak points, the secret little motions that he knew brought her immense pleasure. 

Though (y/n) couldn’t see it, she knew that her lover’s eyes had rolled up into his head. Especially when she could feel his tongue stutter as she not only buried his face into her wet cunt, but as the heel of her foot began to grind on his weeping cock. 

Muffled moans and grunts came from the man eating her pussy as he strained against the various layers of restraints she bestowed upon him. Just the very sight of him dressed in her materials had her groaning before cumming against the male’s face. 

As she stepped back, she couldn’t help but admire the state she left her lover in. Panting, drooling with a dash of her cum splattered in and an angry red cock. 

A sadistic cord snapped within her as she cupped his cheek. 

“Mmmm…you’re my good boy, aren’t you Morax?”

“..h-haaah?”

“If you can handle my game well, you can fuck me and fill me with your seed~.”

The mere mention of being able to sheath himself into her had the dragon’s tail whipping back and forth quickly as he leaned into her touch even more.

“Let’s see how well you can hold your breath. If you do well, then you win~.” 

Immediately a twitch of his cock was enough to spur her forth as she searched for the last couple of items she needed. With a grin, she easily worked a plug into the ring. Easily, the object filled the dragon’s mouth as his loud pants became muffled grunts and moans. 

Though before she decided to attach the smooth leather muzzle over his mouth and nose, she went to work with laying him on his side. The action causing a confused muffled grunt to come from the dragon before a gasp and moan came from him as he squirmed and struggled at the sudden intrusion of the vibrator up into his ass. 

“I didn’t say that it would be easy, Morax.”

A teasing lit came from her as she watched how the dragon’s hole greedily ate up the vibrator before she turned the toy on low. The reaction was immediate as  the dragon flinched from the sudden motions as mewls and lewd moans continued to leak out from his lips. 

“Ah~ You’re so cute…so weak and pliable just for me~.” 

Cooing, (y/n) gently ran her fingers along the beautiful horns adorning her lover’s head. Now that they were in full bloom and not stumps like yesterday, she had the ability to properly gaze at them. Though as she got to the base of his horns a muffled cry came from the dragon as spurts of cum splattered against her and his abdomen. 

“Ho? I didn’t realize your horns were an erogenous stimulant Morax.”

More muffled whines and growls came from the trembling dragon as he impatiently flicked his tail against the marble. In response, the Demi god pressed a kiss to his forehead before humming.

“Let’s begin our game then~.”

With a grunt and some of her former strength, she sat Zhongli up before she grabbed the leather muzzle. The smooth homeless mask glistened back at her before she placed the item over the dragon’s plugged mouth and nose. The straps behind now buckled securely as silence— save for the vibrations— filled the room. 

Smirking, she tested the waters by lightly rubbing her fingers along the tip of his cock. The motion resulting in a highly muffled moan as the dragon trembled. The flourish of his scales along his arms only further served to show how much control he had lost. 

“My, my…so sensitive. Then…let’s do this~.”

Immediately, she positioned herself over his weeping cock and in an instant sheathed his cock. The motion causing the bound dragon to writhe and buck his hips immediately up into her as his cheeks reddened with the lack of oxygen going to his brain. 

If only she could see his expression. His eyes rolled so far up his head as nothing but pleasure and pain hit him as he felt the burn of his lungs for oxygen and his voice sound so meek amidst it all. Of course that high went away as she tugged lightly at the tip of the mask. Fresh air immediately streamed in as he coughed and sputtered with pleads and moans for more as his cock twitched inside of her. 

“S-Shit…easy there baby…”

The pet name only further fueled his whines as he leaned forward into her as he pressed his face the best he could into her neck as she struggled to keep the mask away from his nose to ensure he got enough oxygen to his brain. 

“Let’s see if I make you cum first or if you make me, how about it Morax~?”

Before he could even try to answer the mask was pressed tightly over his nose again and the slow tell tale sign of their game began as he could feel her hips work their magic. Her heavy panting and groans only seemed to egg him on as he began to partake in the game. His hips meeting hers evenly as the foggy feel from the lack of oxygen began to pull at his lungs again. 

The feeling of helplessness and being an all powerful god tamed by a Demi god had his mind reeling from the pleasure of humiliation as he came hard into her. As he did so, he could feel her walls tighten around him only further over stimulating the male after his high as he struggled to keep up. 

Soon he was met with the lovely breath of air once again as the mask slipped away and he could finally smell her intoxicating scent. Sweat mixed with his musk never failed to fan at his belly as he fervently dug his face into her neck. Quickly chasing after the high, yet a gasp and muffled broken moan came from the male as he felt her move her hips once again. 

“Oh, you thought I was done baby? Not yet~. Didn’t you mention that your heats lasted a week?”

As she mentioned this he couldn’t help but feel his cock swell inside of her again, yet he couldn’t help the keen that came out of his throat at the overstimulation he was about to receive. 

“I’ll take good care of you, love. Even if it means me drilling into your dragon mind that I’m the one who is in control~.” 

Again, the slapping of skin filled the room as muffled whines came from the dragon. His claws straining against the binds as he wanted nothing more than to sink his claws into her hips to cum into her again. 

Yet no, he was at his lover’s mercy; and honestly he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

It wasn’t until she turned the vibrator on high that he came again. A large load coming from him again as he filled her full. His seed seeping deep into her as he  rubbed his cheek against her neck even more refusing to allow her to leave as he wished to keep her plugged up. Just as she did to him.

“I suppose I’ll stay like this….but only for a moment. Then we try to feed you…alright?”

Softly murmuring against his hair she couldn’t help lovingly caress his hair as she basked in the moment of calm that a momentarily tired out dragon could bring. After all, she still had to deal with this for the next 6 days. 

[buckyhoney-library]

volume control, b.b

A/N: Hope all is well, please give me feedback about what you think about this one, I had a lot of fun writing this one!

Request: Hi, I'm not sure if your taking requests right now. But if you are, could you do a Bucky x reader smut where the reader loses her voice so Bucky tries to see how loud she can get in bed without her voice? Thank you. You're an amazing writer.

Warnings: language, 18+, overstimulation, oral (fem rec), fingering, praise kink, unprotected sex (no glove, no love)

Word Count: 2.8k

Your POV

     The warm ginger flavored tea cooled the burning sensation of my throat. It seemed to be the only thing that I had tried that had calmed the feeling. Laryngitis had made an appearance this week, completely wrecking the use of my voice. Every time I tried to speak; I sound like a boy going through puberty.

     The last couple of days had the worst in terms of soreness- luckily that part is over. All that seems to be left of the illness is the voice cracks and inability to talk about a whisper. It has become more annoying than anything.

      Every time respond to Bucky, you could see the amount of self-control it was taking not to laugh or make a joke about the croaking.

     Dressed in only black spandex and a t-shirt, I pulled myself off the couch with my empty mug in hand. The couch seemed to be my home for the past week. I had called out of work for the week. Knowing that trying to talk to clients while sounding like a pubescent boy wouldn’t be very professional.

     Calling out of work had proven to be more beneficial in more ways than one. It allowed more time to be able to spend more time with my moody boyfriend and catching up on shows that I had been putting off.

     Bucky called off his avengers’ duties this week and took care of me while I wrestled with the illness. Trading in his weapons for running to the store to grab more boxes of tea, throat lozenges, and a variety of ramen.

“How many of those have you been though?” Bucky questions walking past me pouring the hot water in my mug.

     I pulled out a fresh box, ripping the cardboard lid open. It really did seem like we tried everything to relieve the pain. Spoons of honey, throat lozenges, saltwater, nothing helped other than tea. This means I have been drinking it like a madwoman.

“This is the second box since last night,” My voice cracking at the end. We’re making slight progress, the voice cracks getting further apart. I gesture to the bottle of honey; he grabs it from the counter handing it to me, shaking his head.

“You should probably slow down, you’re not gonna have enough for later.”

“That’s why I have you to get me more,” This time he doesn’t hold back on the laughs when he hears the faint cracks and strain. I turn back around in protest of his action, pretending to be upset at him.

     In reality, it was hard to stay irritated with him when he laughs. The pureness of the sound and the smile that would take up his whole face never failed to make me smile.

    He comes up from behind me, wrapping his arm around my torso. With his body pressing against mine, the coolness of the metal against my arms sent shivers down my spine. The hair on his chin tickling my shoulder, watching me as I finish pouring the honey.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, you’re not feeling good” He mumbles, his lips nipping at the base of my neck. Moving my neck to the side, granting him more access to it.

    Bucky peppering kisses along my neck and shoulder. This action causing me to giggle and buck my hips against his and gripping the edge for the counter for support. A small breathy groan leaves his mouth when my hips made contact with his.

“I’m feeling fine now,” I manage to whisper without the croaking sound. He twists my waist, forcing my body to turn and face his. I look up at his blue eyes, they were darker than normal. His facial hair grown out a bit making him look softer and cuddlier.

“You sound better,” Bucky taunted, his voice had gotten lower and his eyes looking down at the gap between our bodies.

“Does it?” As soon as I thought my voice wasn’t going to crack, the words fall out cracked and broken. Ruining the seriousness of my tone.

Bucky rolls his lips in holding back a laugh.

“So good, baby,” Bucky slides his hands underneath the bottom of my shirt.

     A breathy whine escaping my lips, feeling his cool hand along the sides of my hips. His eyebrows rose at the sound,

“You sound so sexy,” His tone lowered and his eyes piercing mine. I pressed my body to him, wrapping my bare arms around his neck. His lips connecting with mine and his arms pulling me tighter, trying to eliminate any and all space between us. 

I can feel his bulge forming against my pelvis- all because of a moan.

     Sinking into each other, our lips matching in rhythm and pace. A raspy yelp leaving my lips as I feel a harsh smack against my right ass cheek. Completely forgetting the only thing separating it was thin spandex- Bucky’s favorite article of clothing. He says it is one of his favorite things that we have created.

     He liked the way it made my ass jiggle and moved with whenever I took a step. He especially went crazy when they’re rid up when I’d grab something from the top shelf in the kitchen, exposing the bottoms of my ass. He never failed to smack it, sometimes leaving his handprint through the fabric.

    Bucky’s flesh hand grabbing a fist full of ass and jiggling it himself. His release of the flesh causing me to whine again.

    The bulge that was currently trapped in his basketball shorts, started to throb. If only I could take it in my mouth and relieve all the pent-up pressure.

     Bucky’s lips moved away from mine but kissing alongside my jawline and down my throat. His hands now gripping my hips preparing me to jump back onto the kitchen island. I jumped, allowing him to guide me onto the cold granite.

     With his lips disconnecting from the side of my neck, his eyes peering into mine. It’s as if I could read his mind, knowing exactly what he wants. All I do is nod,

“I want to hear you moan, baby,” His hands teasing the waistband of the spandex. Dipping his fingers inside, but not going far. The feeling making my cunt moisten.

     Bucky’s true talent was his ability to tease. He was never in a rush, always took his time making sure that I was dripping before even daring to pull his dick out. It was like he got off on that the sight of the arousal dripping down the sides of my cunt.

“I want to see if you can still get loud,” My breath hitches, and my core tightening. My chest rises and falls heavier at the thought.

     As vocal as I am in bed, Bucky never put to the test how loud I could go. He was always satisfied with how vocal I ended being. What he loved, even more, was seeing me struggle to keep quiet. Teasing my clit with his fingers till I couldn’t help but moan.

     Bucky’s fingers starting in slow circles, watching me twitch and shudder. He’d dip his fingers inside gathering all the juices and using it to add pleasure. He’d moan at the sight of how visibly hard it was for me to stay silent. Some nights, he’d give me a towel or blanket to bite down on. Other nights, he’d want to see me struggle and wouldn’t give me anything to help.

    The moment I would make even the tiniest of whimpers, the pleasure would be ripped from me and I would be left not being able to cum till I could prove I could do it.

Those nights he was ruthless. Edging me till I was in tears.

Every time he’d pull away, making it almost painful to stay quiet the next time.

      I spread my legs giving him access to the place that was about to cause me a great deal of regret. His fingers slide inside the waistband of the shorts, bucking my hips at the contact. His fingers quickly being removed before they touched my clit.

“You fucking tease,” My voice was barely audible, his lips curl into a devilish smirk. Without any sort of permission, I removed my shirt. My breast dropped and Bucky’s eyes flickered to my bare chest, lighting up instantly. My nipples already hardening at exposure to the cold air.

     Within seconds, Bucky taking one in his mouth and his hand squeezing and kneading the other harshly. Eagerly tugging on my nipple with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. I whimpered with every tug. I could see the smile on his face when I looked down.

     I wrapped my arms loosely around his head, keeping him focused on my breast. The only movement being when he’d move off the other giving attention to it. The nipping and tugging making my cunt completely soaked. I could feel it soaking through the spandex. The harsh treatment towards my breasts making the ache between my legs so strong, I thought Bucky could feel it.

   Bucky took his time giving each breast a moment to be assaulted, leaving them both sore. I silently prayed that my cunt was next.

    Bucky pulled away from my breasts, removing his shirt. The sight of his abdomen and dog tags, causing my pussy to throb a little harder. He places lips on my collarbone, slowly laying back on the counter and shoving the opened mail and assignment files on the floor.

    The combination of the cold granite and his hand made my back arch. He placed small kisses down my stomach till he got to my naval- that’s when he started to drag his tongue down till he got to the band of my spandex. I hold my breath as he removes my shorts, finally exposing my slick cunt. 

    I pushed my hips into the counter motioning the need for something to relieve the throbbing.

“So pretty, baby…” Bucky murmurs sliding his middle finger down the sopping wet folds, teasing my entrance. His finger only sliding into the first knuckle, he still standing while he does so. A scratchy moan getting past my lips.

“Yes, baby, I want to hear you.” Without warning he inserts two fingers and curling them, hitting the spongey tissue. My walls start contracting.

My throat tensing as I unexpectedly whine at the feeling.

“Good girl, I know you can get louder.”  Bucky eyes not leaving mine, I am now propped on my elbows and grinding my hips into his fingers. He adds his metal thumb to my clit, rubbing the bud at an agonizingly slow pace. Bucky removed his fingers from my cunt, bringing them to my lips.

    I open my lips enough for his fingers to enter. I sucked the clean, tasting myself. The saliva from my mouth being used as lubrication before he slid them back inside. The circles around my clit become faster. Our eyes met and his pace quickened. My jaw-dropping from the pure pleasure of his fingers. His mouth dropping with mine and his eyes darkened as he watched my body start to jerk.

A string of curses left my mouth and my vocal cords struggling to get any sound out.

“You’re doing so good” I laid back down, feeling my limbs fall weak to the feeling of my orgasm approaching. The soreness of my throat getting tighter, but not caring.

     Bucky crouched down coming eye to eye with my cunt, still fingering fucking my entrance. His thumb left my clit, but it was replaced with his lips. His tongue swirling around the bud. His facial hair scratching the sides of my legs adding more sensation down there. His fingers haven’t stopped, if anything they had gotten faster.

     My eyes rolling back, not being able to properly keep them open. I groaned and gasped at the fast-approaching orgasm. There was no denying that this would wreck my voice even more than it was before, but the feeling of his tongue and fingers making the future pain bearable.

“Fuck!” I went into pure ecstasy. I jerked my hips towards his mouth, my lower half becoming incredibly sensitive. Bucky doesn’t even seem to notice my body twitching. I gripped the kitchen towel beside me,

“Bucky, I-“ I was interrupted by his fingers curling again hurling me over the edge. My throat tensing again, it felt like it was bleeding inside.

         Bucky continues to attack my cunt with his tongue. His fingers leave my hole and join his other hand holding my hips down. I didn’t know how much more of the pleasure I could take.

“Such a good girl, you taste so good.” His voice muffled against my throbbing pussy as he licks the rest of the arousal up. I manage to prop myself up again, our eyes meeting again.

     His mouth glistening from my juices. His eyes don’t break eye contact, staring at me as a string of spit drips onto my clit. I watched in awe of him, he licks it up flicking my cunt one last time. My body has cooled down from the brutal assault.

“You’re doing so well, princess.” He brought himself up, I see the wet spot against his briefs. He was soaked through with precum. The tip was red and swollen, looking like it was going to burst with only a few strokes.

“But I know you can do better,” I sit up completely and watch as he frees his dick. It’s glistening with his liquid, reach to take hold of it in my hand. Bucky stops my hand from doing so, guiding it around his neck. Bucky gives his cock a few strokes, before sliding it up and down my folds.

His cock twitching against them.

The harsh usage of my voice was starting to affect my ability to even get any sound out at all.

     Bucky pushes slowly into me and in return, I clawed at his back. Our bodies have no room in between us anymore, my forehead pressed against his shoulder. His pace quickening. His cock stretching my walls and filling my cunt. The size of him never fails to amaze me.

With all I might, I managed to croak out a shocking volume:

“Faster, please Bucky,” He whined at the sound of my raspy plead.

    His thrusts turning into pure pounding at this point. His arms tightly wrapped around my torso. With the support around my back, my head falls back at the feeling of his cock ramming into me.

“You’re doing so good taking my dick,” He peppers kisses around my throat and collarbone.

My nails digging into his skin.

    My moans are loud, and the pain of my throat was masked by the intense pleasure building in my stomach. I couldn’t even think with his cock inside me. My orgasm building as his pace becomes inconsistent. He was close as well.

     I was surprised he lasted this long considering how he went in, already wanting to cum. All that was coming out of my mouth were a mix of curses and moans. His eyes lighting up with every sound that fell from my lips.

“I don’t how much more I can take,” My voice was in shreds, it was painful trying to speak at this point, but I couldn’t conceal them anymore. Not with his current speed and power.

“Cum all over this dick,” With his approval, my walls start pulsating and my forehead falls back against his shoulder. I watched his dick disappear inside me while I cried in pleasure, my legs quivering at the intense pleasure.

     Tears welling as the pain in my throat was becoming too much. Bucky powered through my orgasm, before his cock twitching inside me. His load bursting inside me. Bucky holds us in the same position while we are recovering from our highs. My pussy is milking every last drop of him, whimpering one last time as he pulls out.

   My breathing still heavy and the piercing pain in the back of my mouth becoming more prominent. I lay back against the counter, catching my breath.

“You got so loud, baby, I’m so proud of you,” Bucky coos while grabbing the kitchen towel that I was previously using as a grip.

         He glides the fabric against my cunt, whipping away his cum that was leaking out of me. I twitch with the contact with my clit. He takes my hands and pulls me back up to meet his eyes. I try to speak but wince at the pain shooting through my throat like daggers. His face instantly filling with worry.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have- “He begins to panic, but I grab his wrists,

“It’s okay,” The only volume I could speak in being below a whisper. I hop off the table picking up my discarded clothes, sliding them back on. I bend down, picking up his briefs, and hand them to him.

“It was worth it,” I chuckle. He takes the briefs from me and looks at the abandoned mug.

“I’ll just have to get you more,”

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

hii :)

could you do a drabble where the reader and yoongi were in an arranged marriage for a while. She thought that Yoongi cheated on her so she asked for a divorce. Yoongi as a cold husband pleaseee !! So Yoongi gives her a rough + angry sex ?? to prove he's not cheating? hehehhe

love all your writings btw, you have so much ideas to be posting lots in a day !!! :)

thank youu !

damn this turned out bigger than normal cuz-- plot... and i didn't want to write a pt2 so i'm just putting it under the cut and let's just still pretend it's a "drabble"

You didn’t remember much from that night. Just some general feelings, like how annoyed and lonely you were. How you needed your husband but he wasn’t there. When you woke up the next morning, head throbbing from your hangover, Yoongi was missing from your shared bed. And even though you didn’t want to assume things, when you noticed multiple hickeys on his neck later that day, you had no choice but to think of the only logical conclusion: your husband was cheating on you.

It hurt. Sure, your marriage had been arranged, so perhaps he didn’t really want to be with you. But somewhere in the process of it all, you had fallen for him. He was always serious and keeping his guard up around you, but there were moments that you thought deep down he was actually a nice guy. And that he cared for you. I guess you were wrong. Who would ever do such a thing to someone they care about even the slightest?

At first, you thought you could put it past you. This was more of a contract than a marriage anyway, from the beginning. But it hurt you every time you saw him, every time he did a tiny, little nice thing for you, like cooking you breakfast or texting you to let you know he would be home late. As if you two were actually a couple. It hurt you so much you needed to put an end to it.

“I want a divorce.” You didn’t wait for the right time or something like that, just blurted it out one evening right after you had gotten done eating in mostly silence.

Yoongi was still in control over his facial expressions, yet barely. A tiny frown, a tiny widening of his eyes gave his shock away. “What? Why?”

You took a deep breath, looking away to be able to keep your composure; looking at him made your knees too weak. “I agreed on this marriage. I agreed to try and make it work even though I knew it would be hard,” you explained. “But I will not tolerate cheating. I want a divorce.”

“Cheating?” His voice was low, truly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I know, Yoongi. You don’t need to pretend.”

“What? I never-”

“I saw the hickeys you had all over you last Sunday.” The sentence shut him up, blank face taking its place over his shocked expression and you couldn’t read him. You gulped. “Or are you gonna claim those were mosquito bites?”

And then Yoongi laughed. Sound so contrasting to his usual attitude, sending chills down your spine. It didn’t last long, however, face serious again as he stared at you intensely. “Are you serious right now?” he barked, and you were starting to feel a bit scared. He took a step towards you. “You really don’t know who gave me those hickeys?”

You frowned, taken aback by his answer. “How would I- What does it matter?”

Yoongi chuckled again, reaching you across the kitchen until he was just a breath away. Looking down at you with dark eyes. “You were so fucking wasted that night, I guess I need to refresh your memory,” he whispered. And before you could even react, he lifted you up, legs straddling his waist as you yelped, arms snaking around his shoulders awkwardly as you were trying not to fall while he carried you to your bedroom.

“Yoon-”

“See?” he said, dropping you on the bed sideways. And his body loomed over yours. “This is where you laid while you were begging me to fuck you dumb. Do you not remember?” You gasped at his words, squirming in order to escape. But his hands were on your waist, pinning you down, and suddenly you knew the feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. This had happened before. “Now what?” Yoongi growled into your ear. “You want to divorce me because you were sucking my neck and I was too weak to pull you away too fast? I did. It was so fucking hard but I pulled away and left because... I told you many times that if this was gonna happen, it should happen the right way. Not when you are black-out drunk. But you were crying and telling me how badly you wanted me. I had to jerk off alone because of how hard you got me with your begging. Was that all the alcohol talking? You didn’t even look at me the next morning.”

You had never heard him talk so much. And your face was burning as that night got clearer in your memories. As the realization that Yoongi wanted you as much as you wanted him settled in. “Yoongs, I-”

“No, shh…” He placed a finger over your lips. “You really have the audacity to think I’m cheating on you when all I’ve been doing is falling for you? Trying to turn this marriage into something actually nice? I’ve been trying to fuck you for so long, you really think I give a shit about fucking anyone else?”

The way his words affected you was surely clear to him as well. Your legs tried to close, yet only resulted in caging him against your hip harder, pushing him down until you could feel his hard dick through his pants. “I- I didn’t know, I…”

Yoongi ground down on you harder, breath unsteady and hot over your lips. “Tell me now, once and for all,” he whispered while his hands started roaming over your body, not even touching you anywhere specifically yet making you gasped with every graze. Distance between you so short it was intoxicating your brain. “Tell me if you want me to stop right now, and I won’t bother you again. Otherwise, I will not stop even if you’re begging me later.” His voice was so coarse you could tell his brain was rotten with want as well. Staring at your lips, waiting for the green light to devour them, probably barely registering anything else.

“Yoongi,” you whined. “Need you… Don’t stop…”

His mouth on yours was such a relief, lips and tongue soft as they played against yours. It didn’t last long before he was groaning, backing off to pull your shirt over your head aggressively, discarding his as well, and grabbing you by the waist to push you further up the bed. His skin was hot on yours, his mouth instantly back on your neck, giving you the treatment you had given him that forgotten night. And his roaming hands found your pants to pull them down while you were distracted. One slipping in your underwear to steal a touch of your center.

“Fuck,” he choked. And then he grabbed a fistful of your hair to turn your head to look at him. “What a nice, wet pussy. And you really thought I’d wanna fuck anyone else’s?” He looked mad when he pulled your clothes completely off you, getting naked as well. Hand wrapped around his thick member, allowing you only one glance before he was over you again, tip brushing against your entrance. “Let me show you, baby,” he rasped, and you were mewling under him. “This pretty pussy is mine, this is the one I want.”

“Yoon…” Your whine was interrupted when he pushed into you, not giving you any room to get used to his dick. His lips were on yours again, hand on your hair pulling it harshly as he started thrusting into you right away. You felt euphoric, your husband finally fucking you hard after all this time of suffering the sexual tension alone. And your fingers scratched his back while moans escaped into his bruising kiss.

Yoongi gave you a few very deep thrusts, hitting your cervix and making you cry before he pulled away again. “Feel that, baby?” he groaned. “Feel how well I’m fucking you- that’ll shut you up, won’t it?” He pulled out, grabbing your hips and flipping you around with no warning. He grabbed you by the ankles to drag you closer to him, and then slapped your ass hard.

“Ah, Yoongi!” You raised your ass higher, on your knees while your face was buried in the sheets.

“That’s right, baby,” he said in a low voice. And he spanked you again. “Scream my name.” Another spank, softer than the others, while he stroked and kneaded your ass. “Scream your husband's name to let everyone know who’s fucking you so hard.” And he buried his cock deep inside you again. “Scream my name to remind yourself that you have me, baby.”

You were a panting mess. Your orgasm building inside you so wildly that you felt like you were about to combust instead of cum. And you dared sneak a hand down to rub your clit while you were moaning his name like a prayer. “Oh, Yoongi, please… Fuck, please…”

He smacked your hand away when he noticed, growling and grabbing your hair to pull it until your back was arched, mouth coming right next to your ear to whisper dangerously. “If you’re gonna cum, you’ll cum because of my cock inside you. Got it?”

You were nodding immediately. Although you were probably gonna cum because of his deep voice and harsh dirty words. “I’m gonna…”

“Good girl,” he growled, diving his teeth in the side of your neck. And it was what did it for you, shouting out while your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your vision turned black, pussy pulsing frantically around him.

“Shit,” he gasped, hips faltering. Then he let go of your hair only to grab your neck from the front, still pulling you back to have his face buried in your nape. “Gonna let me paint those pussy walls white with my cum, baby?” And you were moaning again at that, feeling like you were gonna cum again before you even came down from your previous high. Yoongi smacked your ass abruptly, making you yelp and give him the permission he needed. And he hummed, satisfied, his hips finding the rhythm he needed to finish. “My lovely wife,” he whispered sweetly even though his actions were anything but that. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you good all the time. Just so you know I don’t even have the fucking time to be seeing anyone else.” And then he spilled into you for the very first time.

Masterlist

[padme-parker]

Mizpah // the darkling x f!reader // ch 6

summary: given some time alone to think, the pieces begin to fall into place. you go to confront the darkling be he avoids you at any given cost, until one night you go into the one room you were never granted permission to enter.

warnings: cursing, talks about violence/torture and death, alcoholism

A/N: the truth finally comes out. This is all over the place bc I was trying to rush getting it out. 5.9k+ words and 12 pages later, here we are. not proofread, will comeback later to edit.

ANA KUYA’S voice echoed in the back of your mind as you laid on your cot, calling out for Mal and Alina as they ran away from her. It was the day Grisha came to the orphanage to find out if one of their own had been whisked away into a place like this. You examined the walls, cracks running up and down them. The windows barely opened, and when they did, they let out horrible screeches. Water leaked from the bathrooms, the annoying drip a constant on your mind.

Maybe you should’ve gotten up from your bed and got tested by a Grisha. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to stay in such a run down orphanage. The Duke was rarely here, so no one really cared about his orphanage no matter how infamous he was. But being Grisha meant leaving Mal and Alina behind, something you couldn’t do because they had become your only family. Besides, Grisha don’t get sick, therefore you weren’t a Grisha.

You could never be a Grisha.

-

AS you phased into consciousness, you could hear someone muttering something in the background. Your hands were so cold, you reached out for something- anything that could give you warmth. You tried to blink away the blurriness of your eyes, nothing seemed to work. The person rushed to your side, clutching both of your hands in one as the other stroked your cheek.

“Go back to sleep.” He said, brushing your hair back. Closing your eyes, he assumed you had fallen asleep already. He resumed his mumbling, the words slowly becoming coherent as fell back asleep.

“It’s...too...soon..”

-

THE painful pounding of your heart had subsided as the Grisha left. Mal walked into the room followed by Alina, who was sporting a new wound on her palm that Ana Kuya had scolded her for.

“Come on, get up!” Mal urged, knowing from the look on your face that the pain had already left you.

“Where are we going?” You said eagerly, scooting to the front edge of your bed to lace up your boots.

“To the meadow.” That was all you needed to hear before running out the bedroom door. Mal and Alina’s footsteps padding behind. The three of you started a mildly competitive game of tag, the other two making sure you didn’t exert yourself.

In that moment, you were who you were supposed to be. Three children lying on the field, making stupid promises to each other.

“We can’t hide forever, but we can run.”

-

THIS time when you find yourself in a field, there’s a man laying next to you. It was the same man from your dream, shoulder length hair and clean shaven face.

“Aleksander?” He lets out a hm, awaiting your question. “Where am I?”

“What do you mean, my darling?” Aleksander- General Kirigan- or whoever the hell he was turned to look at you, laying one of his arms upon your stomach. His hand keeping a firm grip on your waist. From your peripheral view you could see him studying you.

He started with your eyes, taking in their color and your long lashes. He moved from the curve of your nose until he got to your soft, plump lips. You stared at the sky, afraid of what you would see, who you would recognize if you turned to face him.

“We’re at our meadow.”

-

WHEN you finally regain consciousness, you find yourself alone in a nearly dark room. Only one lantern had been lit up. It was just before dawn, you could see the sun beginning to peek out. Someone had changed you into a nightgown, you didn’t know who it was. Perhaps it was Alina or maybe the Darkling, maybe neither. Either way, you were thankful they decided to change you out of the robe you had fainted in.

With great struggle, you propped yourself up, your elbows taking the brunt of your weight. You crawled to the foot of your bed to put on your night slippers. The rug under your bed only went so far before it hit the cold floor. You slowly made your way to the desk, sitting yourself in front of the mirror.

The magic Genya had performed on you days ago had worn out by now. How long were you out for? The dark circles under your eyes had returned, seemingly worse. Your skin, although already dull, became more dull and pale. Whatever shine you originally had was gone. Your eyes look sunken in. While your hair was frail and also lost the shine that Genya gave it.

“Saints..” You whispered to yourself as you raked a hand through your hair. You were basically a dead person walking. You considered fetching a servant to bring you Genya, but decided against it. Throwing on a robe, you silently made your way to the war room, hoping to find the Darkling there. When you entered it remained empty, along with the bed he usually slept in. You walked the halls looking for one of his oprichniki, yet they weren’t around either.

There was no use in barging into his bedroom when it seemed like he was gone. Plus you didn’t want to invade his privacy knowing that he could have you killed for going into his room without permission if someone had seen you. You spotted one of the palace guards, walking up to him as you placed your hands into the pockets of your robe.

“Excuse me, do you happen to know where the General is?” You asked, staring into the guards eyes.

“He left a week ago, accompanied by his personal guards.” Was all he said, not disclosing why he had left. A week? Had you really been unconscious for a week? This usually never happened to you, not like this.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“In a couple of days.” He said, not giving you an exact day. You quickly thanked him before making your way back to your room to change for the day. The dull ache of your heart was finally leaving, allowing for you to feel more like yourself. You were able to spot the sun in the sky as you finished changing. You thought about basking in its light when your stomach growled loudly.

I suppose I should eat, you thought. It’d been nearly a week since you were able to feed yourself, your last meal being breakfast. You could remember someone feeding you periodically throughout the week, now knowing the Darkling had left, it was most likely Alina. You rang for a servant, asking to be brought breakfast when she arrived. Surveying the room, you decided that the Darkling wouldn’t mind if you did a little retouching.

You moved the table towards the window, wanting to eat in the sunlight without having the harsh winter winds freeze you. Opening the curtain allowed for more sunlight to stream through, a grunt of triumph leaving your lips as you looked at your new setup.

The squeaky wheel of the servant’s cart alerted you of her presence, rushing to open the door before she could knock. You took the tray from her hands, closing the door with your foot as you skipped towards the table, eager to get some food in your system.

The food they had given you was practically the same, sweet pea porridge, a tall glass of water, and a bowl of grapes. It wasn’t your favorite, but you ate it anyway. Savouring the familiar crunch and sweetness of the grapes. Sitting in the sun had left you feeling giddy and warm, excited for summer when you would be able to go out whenever you could and feel the sun on your skin.

It was the same warmth you felt whenever the Darkling touched you, even when you saw him in your dreams, there had always been a lingering sense of familiarness-- and affection. You saw the look in his eyes just seconds before you passed out, the shock as you said his name, the concern visible in his eyebrows. Him whispering, stay with me, please. It was all foreign to you. In fact, his behaviour was strange to you.

You’ve always heard of the Darkling being cold, menacing, someone you had to fear. There were stories of him ruthlessly slaughtering the Drüskelle, using the Cut to separate multiple heads from bodies in a matter of seconds. Yet he welcomed you into his home without a second thought. He fed you, gave you clothing and a place to sleep, even gave you a tour of the Little Palace himself. You were sure he had never given someone the treatment that he had given you, so what made you so different? What made you so special to him?

You didn’t miss the look he gave you when you first entered the war room, recognition and longing bright in his eyes. He tried to hide the emotion, but you were able to catch it before he returned to his dark and empty gaze. It would explain the memories, but only fueled your confusion and curiosity more. Had you shared a past life with him? If so, why were you back? How were you back? Getting lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the person knocking until they opened the door and announced themselves.

The familiar red hue of his kefta brought you comfort. You were too trusting lately, you’d only met Fedyor a week ago. Just the sight of his kefta had calmed something down in you. This palace was changing you, bringing out something from within you that never existed. Being this trusting on the fields would get you killed.

“Good morning, Fedyor. What brings you here?” You greeted him. This time you already had your boots laced up, the tray in your hands ready to be disposed of on the table by the door. “Going to escort me to combat training?”

“Actually, the General forbade you from stepping foot on training grounds again.” You let out a loud gasp as you whipped towards him. Thinking there was something wrong, Fedyor stepped forward, reaching his arms out to steady you just in case anything happened. In your anger, you slapped his hands away.

“Oh just you wait until he gets back,” You seethed, “Who does he think he is? Taking away my combat training privileges?”

“He’s the General, he can do that.” Fedyor responded, a small smile on his face.

“So what am I supposed to do then?”

“Well, you could still go to the library.” No, you didn’t want to risk running into the Apparat again. “Watch the Grisha train.” He offered a meek smile. “Walk the grounds.” Perhaps you could go on a horse ride later, but right now there was one thing on your mind.

“Is Alina training right now?” The heartrender gave you a nod, “I guess we’ll be going to her room then. She has something I want to borrow.” With the flick of your hand, the two of you were on your way.

“I’m going to ask you a question, and if you don’t want to answer then that’s okay.” Fedyor squints his eyes at you, before motioning to continue. “Has the Darkling ever taken up any lovers?” The question makes Fedyor stop in his tracks, a baffled look on his features.

“Well..I..” He struggled with his words, not knowing if he wanted to tell you. What would the General do to him if he told you? It was common knowledge that General Kirigan had been alive for a couple centuries now, he thought everyone knew of his endeavours. “The General has been around for many years, so naturally he has...had sex before.” The mention of it made Fedyor blush. “But he’s never settled down with someone. The closest I ever saw was with Alina.” This didn’t surprise you, Alina herself had told you about what had almost happened between the two.

“In the tent, when he tested her to see if she was Grisha, I saw something in his eyes. It was admiration, but there was also a defeated look in his eyes. As if he had given up on something because he found Alina. Reasonably, it could’ve been relief, since we had finally found the sun summoner.” Fedyor pauses, thinking wisely about the next words he spoke. “Alina and the General were growing close. Everyone saw the look they gave each other the night of the fete. But any public traces of their affection for each other had disappeared that night. The two are only seen interacting when he visits her for a gradual check-in.”

“And he’s never spoken of any other lovers?”

“Not consciously, no. On the very rare chance where we ride in the same carriage, sometimes when he falls asleep he’ll whisper about a woman. Moya dorogaya, he’d call her. That’s all I know.”

Moya dorogaya, my darling. It was the same name the Darkling had called you in your dream.

“May I ask you a question?” He inquired, you nodded your head, allowing him to proceed. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”

A smile so bright that could light up the room came to your face, “My friends down near the south Ravka border. A pair of siblings that taught me to fight before they defected from the First Army.” You confessed. “One of them also introduced me to my love of epic poetry.”

When Alina’s door came to view, you didn’t bother knocking as she had already left. After fetching what you needed, you quickly exited her room.

“I haven’t seen them since they left.” You rubbed the birthmark at your throat. Besides Mal and Alina, the siblings were also the closest thing you had to family. They considered you as their sister, even begging that you left with them. But you told them your place was here in Ravka, with Mal and Alina.

“I’m sure you’ll see them soon. Once Alina and the General get rid of the fold, we will have access to our docks again.” He said, trying to comfort you.

“I hope so.” The rest of the walk was filled with comfortable silence as you fiddled with the edges of the red book. As you neared your door, Fedyor stopped, telling you he would be just outside if you needed anything. Without wasting another second, you ran to the chair in front of the window.

The Istorii Sankt’ya glistened in the sunlight. Something about it had been calling out to you, urging you to read it and find out more. You flipped through all of the pages of the saints until you found the one that had been calling out to you.

Sankt Ilya in chains. Ilya Morozova. Morozova’s herd.

“One day. When the war is over and the shadow fold is gone, you will bear my name. You will become Mrs. Morozova. I swear it.”

The voice of the Darkling rang clear in your head. The memory made your heart come to a stop as you struggled to find a possible explanation for his words. The only conclusion you could inevitably come to was that you were the sole lover that Fedyor had been talking about.

As the sun began to set, you looked at the drawing once more. The stag, sea whip, and firebird all depicted. You called out for Fedyor, asking him to come into your room.

“Can you bring me dinner for two?” You politely asked.

“Sure, were you planning on eating it yourself or shall I fetch someone while I’m at it?”

“No. You and I are going to have a nice, long talk while we eat dinner.” His face paled as the words left your mouth.

“Oh...okay.” Was all he said before he scurried off to get the food. You tucked the Istorii Sankt’ya under a pile of paper in your desk to hide it. While you waited for Fedyor to return, you lit up some candles and lanterns now that the sun was going down. It was no fun eating in the dark.

Well, sometimes it was. You thought back to the orphanage. Night where you, Alina and Mal would sneak out of bed to have a piece of bread. The bread was never enough, but the excitement had always spurred the three of you on enough to make it a nightly routine until Ana Kuya eventually caught on.

When Fedyor returned, he rolled the cart over to where you had been seated. He placed a golden tray in front of you and another for himself right across from you. He also brought a big pitcher of Kvas for you to share.

Lifting the cover from your plate, you found yourself staring at some sort of meat pie with a side of root vegetable soup. Fedyor had the same meal but had pickled herrings instead of soup.

“Ugh, I don’t know how you eat that stuff.” You said with disgust. “I’m glad you guys don’t force me to eat that.” Although it was common peasant food, it never appealed to you. It was something you’d always hated.

“The kitchen staff have a strict list of foods you like and dislike.” That made your head snap up to meet his, who made the list? You had a scheming suspicion that it wasn’t Alina, leaving you with one suspect.

“Tell me, Fedyor, do you know what the General plans on using Morozova’s Stag for?” You inquired, feigning curiosity. You saw his hesitation, clearly uncertain if he could trust you. “I was, after all, one of the last trackers to spot it.” You reminded

“The stag is rumored to be an amplifier created by Morozova himself. Whoever wears it would hold the greatest power known to mankind. One that could rival the General’s.” He said, taking a bite of his meal before continuing, “He plans on giving it to Alina in order to get rid of the shadow fold. She’s strong, but not strong enough to get rid of it on her own.”

“What about you, do you believe they will be able to banish the fold together?” There had been a swirl of doubt pooling in you. The shadow fold was the one thing that had kept Grisha safe from the rest of the world. With the permafrost in the North and the mountains in the South, Ravka had practically been perfectly disconnected. Yet the Drüskelle and Shu still managed to slaughter Ravkans and Grisha alike.

“Yes, I do. It’s something very important to the General. That the sun summoner reversed what his ancestor, the Black Heretic, had created.” He explained.

“Right, we’ll then what happens after? It’s been so long since West Ravka has been able to connect to East Ravka. Who’s to say that they don’t want to create a monarchy of their own?” Fedyor paused at your words, he hadn’t thought much about what the West Ravkans wanted. He only knew how much his people longed to be free of the shadow fold.

“One step at a time.” He ensured, not sure if he believed the words he just said. He didn’t know what would happen if West Ravka decided to break off and become their own sovereign state. Whatever trade and weapons they had obtained came through the trading ports of the docks in West Ravka. Without it they’d have nothing. They would be nothing.

You finished the rest of your meal, occasionally talking about your time being stationed in the South while he talked about his Grisha adventures. When it came to an end, you helped him clean up and wished him a good night as he rolled the cart away. The pitcher of Kvas laid untouched, your fingers twitched at the thought of having a drink. You stared at it as Fedyor rolled it away, your throat begging for something to drink. Instead of giving into your urges, you chug whatever leftover water you had laying around.

As you got ready for bed, you couldn’t help the strong feeling of loneliness overcome you. You tried to push those feelings away when you jumped into bed, not wanting to have a miserable dream.

-

WHEN you wake, you find yourself in the deadly permafrost of the Fjerda-Ravka border in nothing more than your lace nightgown. The snow under your feet melted as you walked around, searching for another sign of human life. You didn’t feel the familiar nip of the cold at your fingertips or toes. It was that same warmth you felt with the Darkling.

You caught sight of your own breath as you whipped your head around, the snow catching in your hair. As you stumbled into a tree, you felt the recognizable carving, stating that you were now in Fjerdan territory. Your feet had walked on their own accord, not knowing where you were going until you stumbled into a clearing. The same clearing where Dubrov and Mikhael had died, slaughtered brutally by the Fjerdans. The clearing where you had killed two of their own without a second thought.

The clearing where you had finally found the stag.

The very same stag that had now stood in front of you.

You inched closer to it with careful and calculated steps. It didn’t back away as you approached. It showed no signs of aggression as you laid one of your hands upon its antlers, your other going to stoke its fur.

It was giving you that same look it gave you when you first encountered it with Mal.

Mercy. Respect. Most of all, understanding.

-

IT had been two days since you dreamt of the stag. You hadn’t dreamt of it since then, in fact, you hadn’t been dreaming of much since you saw the stag in your dreams. You thought about bringing it up to Alina during breakfast, but decided against it, the conversation somehow drifting towards the General.

“I was giving him a report of my progress last night-”

“Last night?” You interrupted, “As in a couple of hours ago?” She nods, confused by your behavior. “When did he get back?”

“The night you woke up.” She replied, as if you had been informed already. No one told you he had returned, you hadn’t even seen him once. Fedyor didn’t even tell you of his return during dinner. With a huff, you got out your chair, moving towards the door before asking Alina one last question.

“When did you mention me to the General?” She gives you another confused look, not knowing what you were talking about. That was the only answer you needed as you made your way to the war room.

He knew you. Even before he discovered Alina and took her to the Little Palace, he knew you first. Your thoughts ran around rampant and unprovoked, trying to come up with a viable explanation as you stomped towards his hall. Before you could even reach the doors of the war room, you were stopped by his oprichniki.

“The General wishes to be alone right now.” She said, hold up a hand to stop you.

“Tell him that I want to speak with him.” You replied, she looked you up and down. You wore no kefta or guards uniform. You were merely just a First Army soldier in her eyes.

“I doubt he would want to talk to someone like you.” Great, you were dealing with a Grisha Oprichniki with a horrible superiority complex. With a scoff, you turned away and walked to your room. Holding back every urge in your body to punch her.

-

WHEN night came, you found yourself struggling to get some sleep. After your encounter with that rude oprichniki, you tried your best to at least get a glimpse of the Darkling. You tried walking in the gardens in hopes to see him, no luck. You walked past the singular window of the war room, only to find the view obscured by the curtains. You paced the halls as subtly as you could, waiting for him to exit the war room. But he didn’t leave. Not once, so you just gave up and decided to try again the next day.

The black silk of your slip on did little to soothe the irritation you felt. In fact, it seemed to irritate you more as it slipped around even at your smallest movements. With a sigh, you got up from the bed and walked towards the dresser with the intention of changing into something that would provide better comfort.

You ran your hands through all the different laces and fabrics of the nightgowns until it landed on the gold kefta. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try. You took it off it’s hanger, before walking towards the mirror. You examined it closely. The fabric itself had shimmers of gold, the black thread similar to any other kefta. As you surveyed the back of it, you noticed the handiwork of a fabrikator. Someone had tried to mend the rips of the kefta, but they were still visible up close.

The kefta had fit like a glove when you put it on. It gave you a sense of belonging. That maybe as an orphan you had finally found a home. You ogled at yourself in the mirror, the golden fabric had practically made you glow. You placed your hands into the pockets, surprised to feel something in one of them.

Grasping the object, you pulled it out. It was a letter. Covered in blood, dirtied and ripped at the corners, but still a letter nonetheless. You contemplated reading it, making the motion to put it back into the pocket before a thought crossed your mind. It wasn’t like anyone was going to find out.

You opened the letter and began to read it:

Dear Aleksander,

My darling, I don’t know why the universe has continued to bring us together. But I am thankful that they’ve given us a chance to be together once more. I have loved you for all of my lifetimes, and nothing could change that.

At least, that’s what I thought. But you’re no longer the Aleksander I once knew. Something dark has taken over you, your lust for power consuming you. I don’t know who you are anymore.

That’s why I’m doing what’s necessary, you’ve been in power for too long. It’s time for you to stop. It’s time for Ravka to be whole once more.

I’m sorry. I hope with whatever love you have left in your heart for me, that you could forgive me.

Eternally yours,

Y/N

You froze as you saw your name signed at the bottom of the letter. Lifetimes? As in more than one? This could wait no longer. Shoving the letter into your pocket, you threw open your door. The halls were empty, his oprichniki were either on a break or a shift change. Either way, you didn’t care.

You barged into the war room, expecting him to be hunched over a pile of maps, but he wasn’t. The next place you looked was his sleeping quarters that had connected to the war room. This bed was empty too, the sheets still cold. You knew of one last place he could be, and didn’t care about the risks.

You walked towards his door, each step filled with the burning curiosity you felt. Placing your hand on the doorknob, you didn’t expect it to turn. You would’ve assumed he kept the door to this bedroom always locked. But then again you were the only person who would dare enter his room without permission. After entering his room, you shut the door. Not wanting to raise suspicion to anyone who might’ve walked the halls perchance.

You paid no mind to the layout and decorations of his room as you fervently searched for him, only to come up empty handed again. Where could he possibly be? Perhaps he went for a midnight stroll. Or possibly he left the Little Palace again. But before deciding on going back to your room, you were adamant on searching the entire ground for him.

As you made your way back towards the door, your eyes briefly flashed to the portrait above it. You were frozen in your tracks as you did a double take. There in the painting was you, depicted in the gold kefta you had put on mere minutes ago. Behind you was the General, who had one hand clasped around your waist, the other resting on your shoulder. The two of you smiling brightly, it had practically been one of the only other times you’d seen him smile.

The letter in your pocket felt like it weighed a ton, your mouth going dry. In your panicked state of mind, you didn’t notice the shadows jumping up and down the walls.

“My darling.” You never heard him creeping up on you until he started talking into your ear, his whisper making you involuntarily shiver. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of him.

Turning around, you didn’t expect to find his hair dripping wet, with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. A blush formed on your cheeks as you tried to look at anything but him.

“Don’t call me that.” You spat out, he reached one of his hands out to touch the kefta you had put on. His touch lingered from the black stitching to the collar of the Grisha jacket, his fingers ghosting over your neck. “I’m going to ask you one more time, have we met before?”

The General saw no use in keeping the secret from you any longer; you had worn the kefta he’d made for you centuries ago, most likely read the letter in its pocket, and now you had just seen the portrait he’d hung up of the two of you. It was evidently clear that you knew something was going on.

“What do you remember?” He deflected, not answering your question.

Flashes came to your mind, ones you had dreamt, others were new.

“I remember...my death. The night those soldiers shoved a knife in me.” You confessed. You also saw other things. Horseback riding in the woods. Long nights in bed spent talking about the future. Him training you, teaching you how to wield a sword. The birthmark at your ribcage, the one on your neck, and the long ones on your back. They had all been scars. Marking all the deaths from your previous lives.

Three scars, three separate lifetimes with him. You reached up to touch the scar on your neck, “They..I-”

“This one, the Fjerdans gave you this one. We were hunting for the stag when we had gotten ambushed. They killed you for the sole purpose to see me in pain. I begged them to take me too, but they found too much joy in my grief. The Drüskelle held me on the ground, my hands spread apart, as I watched you bleed out.” You can see the tears form in his eyes as he recalls the events of that night. He walks around you, tracing the rips of the kefta. The rips had consequently been placed exactly where the scars on your back were. You could tell by the familiar pattern he traced, a once soothing action that now caused you great anguish. “The Fjerdans also gave you these ones. They tortured you for days on end. When I finally found you, it was too late. There was no healer that had the power to help you. All I could do was hold you as a heartrender calmed you, minimizing your pain.”

“I can’t remember that, why can’t I remember that?” You panicked, to which the Darkling turned you to face him, his hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs rubbed your face in a reassuring manner.

“It’s not often that you fully remember what happens to you. It’s your brain's way of protecting you so you don’t get overwhelmed.” Well you certainly felt overwhelmed now. It was all too much to take in at once.

“The shadow fold..” You hesitated, removing yourself from his grasp. “Was that because of me?”

“Yes,” he confessed, “I created it after you first died. A way to protect all Grisha. I didn’t mean for it to get so out of hand. But it was one less threat we had to worry about.”

“I don’t understand. Why me? Why is it always me? Why do I always come back to you?”

“There’s a reason why the universe has continued to bring us back together, my darling. My other half. My life.” He walks up to you, grasping your face in his hands. His touch was different this time, it was cold yet welcoming. It felt familiar. The shadows engulfed the room as you felt a power rush over you. His eyes darted towards your lips, hesitating before leaning in. You close your eyes as you feel that familiar warmth consume you. His kiss is soft, gentle, yet you could tell he was holding back from ravaging you.

He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours. You kept your eyes closed, lost in the memories.

“Open your eyes.” He whispered. When you had closed them, the whole room had been taken by his shadows, leaving the two of you in darkness. But as he stood in front of you, his hands on your cheeks, the whole room had been illuminated. “My sun summoner, I have loved you all of my life. For all of your lifetimes.”

“Maybe one too many.” What else was there to say? You always knew, somewhere deep down inside of you, that there was something special different about you. You didn’t know it until now, until you were reunited with your other half. “But I thought Grisha couldn’t get sick.”

The smile falls from his face, “I believe..that this could possibly be our last lifetime together.” He disclosed. “Neither heartrender nor healer could explain what was happening to you. I think it might be the consequence of avoiding eternal death for so long.” He joked, his eyes meeting yours.

“I thought your last life had been our final one together. I waited hundreds of years for your return. When I had caught wind of a sun summoner being found, I thought it was you. When it wasn’t I felt as if my heart had shattered all over again. That you would never return to me again.” The Darkling squinted as the light around you grew brighter. His touch was making you unstable.

“But Alina-”

“Can’t know. No one can. I can’t risk your life again. Not anymore.” He replied, “Especially when this could be our last time together.”

You struggled to find a name to call him, the General felt too formal, and to you it seemed too early to call him by his given name.

“Aleksander, my darling. Call me by my name.” He said, withdrawing his hand from you and letting the shadows shrink back to the ground.

All your life, you had subconsciously fought the Grisha within you. You had always been Grisha. Using the powers you had been born with had given you back your strength, albeit not all of it. You enjoyed- reveled the rush it gave you.

“Aleksander,” His name left your lips in a hushed whisper, “..what if I want the stag for myself?”

-

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