#twice the invaders came and left without issue

[marmotsomsierost]

Jenny was the closest- she'd been running for the chicken coop at the back of my house, and I'd watched her be felled by the archers lurking in the trees. Poor lovey, it had taken three of the vicious things to bring her to the tilled earth of my garden, the new green sprouts no higher than her fingers that now lay mere inches from the stoop. The shouting from the trees was louder, jeering and congratulatory and rude, growing more bold and cruel each time they hurt something of mine. They'd gone for the chickens next, since Jenny had opened the hatch and sent them darting out in search of their midafternoon treats only to be met with stones and a few arrows. I knew then that there would be no opportunity for peaceful surrender.

I smoothed the oiled paper back into position and knelt by the door. It was safe to push it open, I judged- the door and vine-covered trellis blocked most sight angles between my house and the forest's edge by design. With the door out of the way the threshold lifted easily away, and I set it gently in the little slot by the shoe-rack Eivind had gifted me not three months before. He was gone, surely- if anyone had been capable of keeping Jenny safe at home, she would not be in my garden. I let that sadness pass by as I brushed the layer of sweet grass and straw away from the packed dirt foundation of my house. My hands were warm when I placed them on the cold earth, and as they cooled I breathed in the knowledge the land gave me. Not everyone was dead, surprisingly enough- I couldn't feel most of the children, nor Inger and her weavers. Maybe I would consider some mercy of my own, if they had not just remained hidden but had been truly left alone during the attack.

Unlikely. Jenny was also a child.

I inhaled deeply, breathing in the living green-growth spice of the earth, and watched Jenny's chest rise, then fall as I exhaled. We breathed together, once, twice, and on the third breath she rose. The jeering from the forest stopped as the world paused- then broke into confusion and alarm as Jenny bolted across the threshold into my home, the rush of her movement slamming the door behind her.

"I'm sorry," she coughed, brushing dirt from her cheeks and the folds of her dress, "I forgot you had moved your garden." I handed her a damp cloth, motioning for her to turn so I could remove the arrows before sensation truly returned to her flesh.

"It's fine. The chickens will have earned a spring seedling treat after this, and there's plenty of time to reseed." I winced at the sight of the tears in the fabric. "Oh, your embroidery is ruined, my dear. I wish I could repair it for you."

"Ah, I need the practice anyway if I want to finish my apprenticeship. Do you want me to open the cellar, or are you waiting for someone to come gloat?"

"Neither." I motioned her to one side, just in case, and pushed the door open again. We surveyed the sad lumps of feathers scattered around my little garden, and when I looked back at Jenny I saw the same delight I felt reflected in her eyes. "I think I'll let the chickens handle this one."

"Shall I start the tea and soup, then?" At my nod Jenny turned to my kitchen, which was much larger than would be expected of someone living alone, with pots and stoves enough to feed a village. I could hear her building the fire as I set my hands back down on the earth, reaching this time for the rapid hearts and darting breaths of my flock of chickens- and then I shut the door quickly on the stunned silence of a forest full of murderers watching a flock of chickens rise and turn as one.

I supposed it is a little uncharitable of me to be so annoyed that these invaders never learn from the chronicles and writings of those that survived before them. I'm sure they assume they're the ravings of men gone mad from my wicked, evil magics. And I doubt most of them had any idea about what the usual size of a chicken coop is for one house, or how big a flock is usually manageable for one person. That's peasant farmer knowledge, not worth anything to a righteous mercenary beyond knowing who to coerce food from.

After all, what's one chicken to an armed man? Lunch. What's one armed man to a flock of angry chickens?

Lunch.

“When those armies came, they slaughtered the village and cornered me in my cottage. They said that they had me surrounded, but they didn’t seem to realise that the last thing you should let a necromancer have access to is fresh corpses.”

[xoxiu]

twinkle - ot7 x reader

chapter 11 table of contents masterlist

summary: she had just wanted attention, that’s why she kept texting the strange number, updating him on everything in her life. little did she know how dangerous this relationship actually was. it had been jimin’s idea to kidnap the girl, but the ability to travel across the world to actually do it had been all hoseok’s doing. convenient how some things work, right? they knew that they were destined to have their baby with them, whether she wanted it or not.

tags/warnings: kidnapping, forced age regression, spanking, noncon, mafia au, drug use, stockholm syndrome, caregiver!bts, little!reader, nonsexual, diapers, panic attacks, fluff and angst, sickfic, referenced child abuse, unrequited love

Namjoon came home to a dark, silent house- an experience he hadn't felt in what seemed like decades. Ophelia had yet to fully settle in, so coming home to one of his housemates fruitlessly attempting to put her to bed was a common occurrence. He tip-toed up the steps (if he was the one who woke Lia up, his friends would not let him see the light of day. Lia tended to be a heavy sleeper, however, so there wasn't much need to be overly quiet) and to the nursery. Peering in, Namjoon blinked once, twice in confusion when he noticed the empty crib. His mind blanked, and he rushed to his bedroom to get Jin.

The bedside lamp's gentle light illuminated the room just enough for Namjoon to see his boyfriend reading on their bed with Lia resting on his chest. Namjoon's heart rate quickly evened out, and a smile crept onto his face at the loving sight. He softly closed the door behind him, causing Jin to focus his attention from his novel to the new presence in the room. Namjoon saw the stress and worry on the elder's face, his smile faltering in response. "What's wrong?" He asked, perching himself on the edge of the bed.

"Lia's sick," Jin whispered, stroking the girl in question's pink hair. Namjoon frowned and laid on the bed next to Jin- he moved Lia's hair slightly to see her pale, sleeping face. She felt hot to the touch; Namjoon could tell she had a high fever before Jin could even mention it.

"She must have injured her anal cavity from refusing to use her diapers. Almost immediately after that, she started spiking a fever and puking." Jin chuckled out of exhaustion, "Long and rough day; Hobi looked ready to faint until I made him leave."

Namjoon's heart hurt at the thought of his baby suffering. Even in her sleep, she looked distressed. While he was slightly offended Jin didn't bother to call or even text him about Lia, it didn't feel right to bring that up when there were bigger issues to deal with. Maybe in the morning, everything will have magically fixed themselves, and Namjoon would finally have his happy little baby. 

Nothing felt right to Henry. Nothing felt real. His sister disappeared without a trace and it felt like nobody was trying to find her. He stared up at his blue ceiling- he took down all the glow-in-the-dark stars a week after Ophelia left. It was her idea to put them up there, and it felt wrong for them to be there when she wasn't.

"I used to have a bunch of these things in my bedroom when I was little," she said with that signature Ophelia smile- wide and genuine, a smile that gave Henry a sense of home.

"They're gay," Henry quickly dismissed such a baby-ish decoration, but his big sister didn't take any offense. Every time Henry invaded her room he was infatuated with those small stars. It was obviously just an act- his way of saying 'I'm 12 now and I can't admit I like things.'

It's been a month. Ophelia left- no, she was kidnapped. Ophelia was kidnapped March 14. She turned 18 on April 7. Her senior prom was next week- April 19. 

Henry somehow got more depressed at that thought- Opehlia was so excited about prom. After school one day- two weeks before she was kidnapped- Ophelia took Henry dress shopping. He begged and pleaded to be dropped off at home before she went to the dress shop, to which Ophelia whined that all the good dresses would be taken in that short time frame. And so, Henry sat in the boutique for what felt like hours watching his sister try on dress after dress. "You don't even have a date," Henry complained.

Ophelia, the ever kind and caring Ophelia, simply turned around and smiled at her younger brother. "That doesn't matter. Do you want to go with me? They have a chocolate fountain that I know you'll love!"

"Ew!" Henry was disgusted at the thought of being his sister's date. Looking back now, he realized she only did it out of love. She could have gotten mad at Henry for pointing out her single status, but instead invited him to join her. From the movies he watched, most older sisters would be disgusted to have their little brother tag along to any event, better yet prom. Yet here Ophelia was, thinking of Henry's own interests above her own.

God, he did not deserve her. 

The front door opened, quickly followed by hushed voices and a baby's squeal. Henry's heart stopped for a moment until he remembered that it couldn't be his parents (it couldn't be Ophelia, either). Quickly after Ophelia disappeared, their parents ran off. Ophelia's older friends volunteered to watch over both him and Rose so they wouldn't get thrown into foster care. To Henry, it seemed like everything tied to Ophelia was full of goodness. 

The squeaking of his door made Henry flip over to face whoever was entering. The sudden light from the hall made him squint- had he really hidden away for that long? Grace stood in the doorframe, Rose on her hip and her own daughter, Ashley, holding onto her hand. Or, well, finger.

Henry knew little Ashley well; before Rose was born, he would tag along with Ophelia every time she went to visit Grace and Ashley. It shocked him how big she has gotten, being nearly two years old now. The thought of baby Rose ever becoming sentient kind of scared him.

Henry remembered how much joy Ashley brought both Grace and Ophelia, with Grace dubbing Ophelia "Auntie Lia." The two had been friends since they were little, and Henry knew Grace basically all his life. A little over a year ago, Grace brought the two siblings on a vacation over spring break.

"I got a sugar daddy, so don't worry about money or anything."

"Tell him to hit me up sometime," Ophelia gave Grace a playful wink. Grace gasped and softly hit her younger friend in the arm.

Their dynamic was sisterly and close, and Henry almost felt like an intruder when around them. The hotel room they stayed in that week was almost like a mini apartment, with a living room and a separate room for the beds. After exploring the rest of the hotel by himself, Henry returned back only to find the living space empty and soft voices coming from the 'bedroom.' He sat in front of the door, doing what most little brothers did and eavesdropped. 

"It's weird to think of how much you and Henry have grown up," Grace's voice hit Henry's ear first.

"Stop acting like you're ancient- you're only three years older than me," The familiar playfulness in Ophelia's voice made Henry feel at ease.

"I know, but I still you the two of you as the little kids from across the street." There was a pause until Grace continued speaking, "Am I doing this right?"

"What right?" Ophelia asked.

"This," Grace replied, referring to the sleeping baby lying between the two of them, "I have no idea what is right when it comes to parenting. Do I breastfeed? Do I use cloth diapers? When do I introduce solid foods? Do I co-sleep?"

"Shut up, you're doing fine," Ophelia gave her reassurance through the teasing way only best friends can do. "And for the record, aren't we kind of co-sleeping with Ash right now?"

Grace snorted, "Only because we couldn't get her to nap in her pack and whatever it's called. I'm just terrified I'm going to kill her or something."

"Don't say that! Both of you survived for six months so far, just keep it up for another six months, and then maybe a few more after that."

Both the girls laughed but kept it quiet as to not wake the sleeping child. A peaceful quiet filled the hotel room after that, and Henry nearly rose from the floor until Grace spoke up.

"I really do love you, Lia."

The now two-year-old Ashley climbing on his bed snapped Henry back to reality. Through his teary eyes (although he'd never admit he cried), he saw the hopeful expression on Grace's face. Once their eyes met, her smile only grew larger.

"We got a lead."

[tada-no-honzuki]

Ascendance of a Bookworm (29) Part 5 Volume 8 Extra Chapter 2

This translation is not supposed to replace the official releases of the light novel series and is purely made for my own entertainment. Please purchase the official light novel when it becomes available!

Since the title of this chapter contains spoilers, it has been hidden beneath a "read more" for your safety!

[The Battle for Ehrenfest] Brigitte - The Battle of Illgner

"This is Helfried. Brigitte, could you please come to my office?"

I tilted my head in wonder as I received an ordonnanz from my brother, Giebe Illgner. Now that I was married to Victor and the paper-making industry was on track, the number of nobles living in Illgner was gradually increasing. As a result, I was rarely called into the office. The last time was when Lady Rozemyne ordered a large quantity of magic paper.

“Does Lady Rozemyne desire more magic paper?” I mumbled, mostly to myself.

"Helfried even sent an ordonnanz,” my mother replied.  “That means it must be urgent, right? I will watch Lilarose for you. Now, don’t make him wait."

My mother smiled and gestured for me to get going. We had been embroidering together in the children’s room. I put my needles and thread away, then looked at my daughter, who was fast asleep in her bed.

"Thank you, mother. I hope Lilarose is a good girl and doesn’t wake while I am away."

I left my one-and-a-half-year-old daughter in the care of my mother and quickly headed to my brother’s office. Just as I arrived, Volk, a former gray priest and trusted aid of my brother, exited the office. Maybe he had heard my footsteps approach?

“Volk, I was called by my brother. May I go in?”

"Of course,” he nodded. “The Giebe is waiting for you. Please come in."

Since Volk had already opened the door for me, I went inside without knocking. I was met by the troubled faces of my husband and brother, who were both reading a letter.

“Brother, what happened?” I inquired.

"It's a letter from Lady Florencia,” Helfried replied. “Apparently, it's been sent to all Giebes."

I accepted the letter and scanned its contents. It informed us that it was highly likely that Lady Georgine of Ahrensbach would be invading Ehrenfest to obtain the foundation, so we were to increase our patrols of the area and contact the castle if we found any suspicious people.

"We received a similar request at the beginning of spring, remember?” Helfried said. “So, we were just wondering how to respond this time."

Last time, we prepared rejuvenation potions in case a battle ensued, but Illgner didn’t have many knights to begin with. Even if they told us to prepare for an invasion from Ahrensbach, there was not much we could do.

“It says it is highly likely, but I don’t get the feeling there is any particular urgency to the request,” Victor remarked. “If Lady Georgine is aiming for the foundation, Illgner holds no value.”

Illgner bordered Ahrensbach only on a small section of land. Although we had acquired some extra funds thanks to the paper-making industry, our land held no strategic value. It was too far from the castle to be used as a base of operations, and most of it bordered Frenbeltag. Attacking Illgner came with the risk of getting Frenbeltag involved as well.

“Besides, if a noble from another duchy crossed the border, the Aub would notice, right?” Victor continued. “Don’t you agree it’s unlikely to cause any issues if we act only once we are notified?”

"For now, I think we should increase the patrols and keep a close eye on the border,” I advised. “How about twice a day? Once during the day and once at night? Personally, I don't think it’s necessary, but I fear we don’t have a choice."

The mana of Ahrensbach’s land seemed to be weakening, and the duchy’s starving commoners often ventured into Illgner’s mountains in search of food. If we were going to keep a close watch on Ahrensbach, we must be wary of its commoners too, and keep them out.

“It is possible the Aub will reprimand us for overlooking certain activities until now,” Volk noted. “I feel sorry for the commoners, but we can’t please everyone. Filling their land with mana is the duty of Ahrensbach’s archducal family and its temple.”

Although Volk grew up in a temple, he was able to cut off the commoners with surprising ease. As we looked at him in surprise, he smiled, looking a little embarrassed.

“It only makes sense that when the situation changes, the treatment of the commoners changes drastically as well,” he explained himself. “It would be in Illgner’s best interest to prioritize the needs of Ehrenfest’s archducal family rather than the wellbeing of another duchy’s commoners. I also believe it would be wise to gather information from the merchants. Lumber traders go all over the place."

Even after discussing things with Victor and Volk, I couldn't think of any options but increasing the frequency of the patrols. Since we wished to prioritize the paper-making industry, our main source of income, it was difficult to maintain a state of heightened vigilance for a long period of time. Especially since we had no idea when and if Lady Georgine would invade the duchy.

"Very well, I shall inform...  Oh? An ordonnanz."

Just as I was about to head out and give orders to the few knights Illgner had, an ordonnanz flew into the room. I expected it to head for my brother or Victor, but it landed on my arm.

“This is Rozemyne.”

Lady Rozemyne had been so ill that she had been unable to attend the feast celebrating spring, but it seemed she had recovered. Her voice sounded more mature than I remembered. Although I had no proof, I could tell she had grown.

“Lord Ferdinand is hovering on the verge of death due to Lady Georgine’s scheming and we expect her to use this opportunity to invade Ehrenfest. It seems she has already closed in on the border and may act as early as today or tomorrow. At the latest, it will be a few days from now.”

We exchanged worried looks. If Lady Georgine had already closed in on the border, wouldn’t that make this an emergency?  Lady Rozemyne’s message conveyed an urgency that hadn’t been present in Lady Florencia’s letter.  I could also tell how worried she was about us. On top of that, Lady Rozemyne even added some pointers should it come to a confrontation.

"Be very careful when the enemy is dressed in silver-colored clothes. Mana cannot penetrate this cloth. I advise you to carry weapons like the ones that commoners use at all times, since schtappe-made weapons and mana attacks have no effect. It is also possible they will utilize a powdered type of poison. Please cover your mouth with a piece of cloth. Lady Georgine will likely travel by carriage rather than highbeast if she intends to operate in the shadows. Be sure to gather information from your province’s commoners, and keep in close contact with the other Giebe along the border. Grandfather is ready to provide backup at any moment. If you notice any border irregularities, contact us immediately."

After repeating the same message three times, the ordonnanz turned back into a yellow feystone. We stared at the feystone that had warned us of the impending danger in a daze.

"That sounded quite different from Lady Florencia’s letter...” ��Victor muttered.

"It would be best to send a patrol out at once,” Helfried concluded. “It sounds like she will be here in a few days at the latest."

“I shall intensify my training so that I may participate in the battle.”

I had resumed training when we were informed of the impending threat in early spring, but I had been absent for a long time due to pregnancy and childbirth, so I was far from my peak fighting strength. Still, we needed as many knights as possible so we might protect Illgner and our families. The more hours of training I had under my belt, the better.

“Brigitte, I understand your enthusiasm, but please send a reply to Lady Rozemyne first,” Victor pointed out. “She likely shared this information with you because you used to be her retainer. Although you are no longer in her service, she is clearly still worrying about you.”

I immediately sent an ordonnanz to Lady Rozemyne to thank her. It reminded me of the days when I served her, and it warmed my heart to know that she still thought of me.

“This is Brigitte. We received an ordonnanz from Lady Florencia earlier, but she didn’t relay nearly as many details. I would like to thank you for the additional and valuable information. We shall keep in contact with the other Giebe and ask our citizens to keep an eye out.”

As I watched the ordonnanz fly away, my brother placed several ordonnanz stones on his desk.

“Brigitte, may I ask you to send the ordonnanzes to the other Giebe as well? The urgency of the matter would be better conveyed if they received it from you, since you directly served Lady Rozemyne.”

Since Lady Florencia's letter did not convey a sense of urgency, our warning might be ignored. However, since I used to serve Lady Rozemyne, they would likely take it seriously if I told them, “I received an urgent message from Lady Rozemyne”.

As I sent the ordonnanzes, the men in the room started discussing our next step. If Lady Georgine might commence her attack as soon as today, where should we start? There were many things to consider.

"It's important to gather information from the commoners,” Victor said. “But shouldn't we first warn those going into the mountains? It will be trouble if they come face-to-face with knights from another duchy."

“We have secured enough food to sustain a siege for a few days and the evacuation site is ready, but please consider how to guide the commoners as well,” Volk added.

"Let's issue a warning to stay away from the mountains near the border until we receive further information about Lady Georgine.” Helfried proposed. “We should have more information within a few days."

I took a deep breath as I realized that the men were only focused on protecting the commoners. While it may be the right thing to do for a Giebe, the knights would not be able to act unless they also considered what came before.

“Brother, I agree that evacuating the commoners is important, but whether Ahrensbach launches a large-scale attack at the border, or stealthily invades with a small number of people to acquire the foundation, will greatly affect the number of knights we must keep on guard duty and send out on patrols. Won't that also impact the number of people available to assist with the evacuation?”

“Brigitte, I understand what you're trying to say,” Victor said while looking at a map of Ehrenfest. “But at this point, we don't know how they are going to attack. If they intend to attack Ehrenfest from Ahrensbach, it is far more likely that they will invade through Gerlach, Wiltord, Garduhn, or Griebel. I doubt they will come all the way out to Illgner.”

If one considered the small stretch of land bordering Ahrensbach, it was certainly unlikely that we would be a target. My brother seemed to have the same idea. However, we could not let our guard down.

"Victor, I understand your point,” I countered. “But Illgner has fewer nobles and a weaker defense. If Lady Georgine is aware, it is possible we may be besieged to create a diversion."

"A diversion... "

“I see,” my brother said. “It seems like Lord Bonifatius is ready to provide aid, but we cannot say with certainty how long it will take for our request to be approved by the Aub, the orders to be issued, and the knights to be ready for departure.”

"Yes,” I agreed. “And on top of that, no matter how fast they fly, it will take them a whole day to arrive. In the meantime, we will be on our own."

As Lady Rozemyne’s former guard knight, I was the one who knew the most about the inner workings of the knight’s order. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how dangerous it would be if Illgner was targeted. Victor seemed to understand the danger we were in after my explanation.

“If prompt discovery and communication are the key, then we should increase the frequency of our patrols.” Victor agreed. “The situation isn’t likely to last more than a few days. If we only increase the patrols near the border, we should be able to achieve it with the bare minimum of people."

My brother nodded, “If our enemy aims to acquire the foundation, they will likely hurry along without slaughtering the commoners. I want you to focus on minimizing the casualties as much as possible and buying time until the reinforcements arrive.”

I immediately headed to the training grounds to inform the knights.

" ...And that's why we must increase our patrols near the border,” I explained. “I shall assist as well. Did last night's patrol notice anything of note?"

"There have been no reports of unusual activities, neither last night nor this morning," the commander of Illgner’s knights assured me. I immediately felt a wave of relief wash over me.

“Lady Rozemyne said to expect movement in the next few days,” I warned. “So, please be careful when patrolling at night. If they are planning to sneak across the border, they will likely act under the cloak of darkness.”

 “It would be helpful if they would stealthily pass through when the commoners are asleep. Then we would only have to inform the archducal family…”

Our knights specialized in hunting feybeasts. Outside of practical lessons at the Royal Academy, they had no experience fighting other people. Besides, there were only fifteen adult knights in Illgner. Even if I included the apprentices and myself, we still had less than twenty people. I completely understood their reluctance to go up against a greater duchy.

“That certainly would be great,” I agreed. “But in that case, they would probably pass through Griebel instead of Illgner. There is no guarantee that the enemy will appear in our province, but let’s stay alert.”

"Indeed,” the commander nodded. “I plan to entrust the real fighting to the reinforcements from the noble’s district. Though, I would like them to hold back on using destructive magic tools if possible."

If our mountains and forests were destroyed, that would greatly impact the paper-making industry. So, avoiding battles that used large numbers of destructive magic tools was certainly preferable.

"Regardless of the enemy’s plans, if you are joining the fight, Lady Brigitte, that will make it easier for us to contact the Giebe. Not to mention, you are a mednoble and thus a valuable battle asset."

It was decided the patrols would focus on the area near the border with Ahrensbach. We were on good terms with Frenbeltag, and Lady Rozemyne had not included them in her warnings, so it was safe to assume we would not be invaded from that side. I accompanied the squads on their rounds, but nothing of note happened that day.

The next afternoon, I and five other knights were out patrolling the border on our highbeasts, when I noticed a change in the scenery.

"Don't you think the shape of that ridge looks different?" I asked as I pointed at the mountain ahead.

I wasn’t quite sure how to put it, but it seemed like an abnormal dip in a part of the tree line, or rather, like an unnatural dent in the gentle curves of the ridge.

"Let's have a closer look."

Sensing something was off, we cautiously approached. As we got closer, I quickly noticed almost all the trees on the opposite side of the mountain, next to Ahrensbach’s border, had disappeared. The bare, reddish-brown soil reminded me of the aftermath of a trombe attack.

“Just what on earth is going on!?” I exclaimed while squinting my eyes to get a better look. At the same moment, more trees disappeared up ahead. As I stared at the empty spot in a daze, unable to comprehend what just happened, two of the knights cried out.

"Look over there! I see people!"

"Those are Ahrensbach's capes!"

Several people could be seen standing atop the center of the reddish-brown soil. When I noticed they were all carrying black weapons, an audible gasp escaped my lips.

"Black weapons can be used to steal mana from dark feybeasts,” I said. “Maybe they can be used to steal mana from the land as well."

Since the archducal family had contacted us, we had mentally prepared ourselves for the possibility of an invasion. However, we had not seen this coming. We had not expected the enemy would try to steal mana from our land, rather than head straight for the foundation.

“If they were just trying to pass through Illgner, we could have watched from a distance,” I muttered in shock. “However, we cannot sit back and watch as mana is stolen from our land and the trees are disappearing before our very eyes.”

If they took our trees, that would greatly affect the paper-making industry.  Moreover, most commoners relied on the blessings of the mountains for their meals. Not to mention, if it rained, the flow of the rivers could change as well. In the worst case, life in Illgner could be destroyed.

"I count four,” one of the knights said. “Shall we attack?"

"...no.” I shook my head. “Let's head back and request the Aub to send reinforcements. If there are any people hiding out of sight, we will be outnumbered."

Just then, arrows came flying at us. Our enemy was swiftly making way for the tree line while attacking us to keep us at a distance.

"They spotted us! We are under attack!"

"Kill them before they can hide! "

"Mana attacks will be absorbed by their black weapons!” I warned. “Be careful!"

Since the area was already devoid of trees and had turned a reddish-brown hue, there was no issue in using offensive magic tools. We flew overhead and dropped magic tools from above. Two of the intruders disarmed their black weapons and readied their shields.

"Once they disarm their weapons, it will take about a day before they can use the blessing again!” I shouted. “Attack with the intent to make them cancel it and use their shields!"

Without the darkness's blessing, they would not be able to steal mana from the land, at least for today. As everyone readied themselves to attack, a gasp escaped my throat when I detected numerous mana signatures approaching.

“There are more units nearby!” I alerted the others. “I can feel their mana! They are swiftly approaching us!”

The fact was, the unit before us already had the upper hand strength-wise. On top of that, they were about to regroup with other units nearby. It was abundantly clear we were at an overwhelming disadvantage. Try as we might, there was no chance of winning. In fact, we would likely lose our only chance to retreat.

"Don't pursue the enemy!” I shouted. “We shall retreat for now!"

While sending an ordonnanz to my brother to warn him, we returned to the summer mansion.

“Brother, Lady Rozemyne was right! The enemy is here! Not only are they draining the mana from our land, but we are also dealing with a large number of people spread out over a wide area. We cannot deal with it by ourselves. Please request the Aub to send reinforcements."

When I arrived at my brother's office with the commander, he and Victor were already waiting for us with a map of Illgner spread out on the table.

"I immediately sent the request after receiving your ordonnanz,” Helfried replied. “It seems Lord Bonifatius will lead the support unit. However, considering how much damage has been done in such a short period of time, I wonder if Illgner will last until reinforcements arrive. Brigitte, what is your opinion as a knight?”

In this case, simply scattering the enemy would not be enough. It was important that we limit the amount of damage to a level that would not interfere with the lives of Illgner’s people.

“The enemies we encountered were acting in small units, but I could sense mana everywhere around us. Even if we gathered all our knights, I cannot say for certain how long we would be able to stall for time. Neither can I predict how much damage will be done to the land until reinforcements arrive.”

If their sole purpose was to drain mana from the land, we could limit the number of human casualties by staying quiet and holing up. However, Illgner’s land would be devastated.

" ...those were nobles from old Werkestock."

"What?"

“I remember them from my time at the Royal Academy,” the commander explained. “The one they were protecting is a Giebe from old Werkestock.”

The frequency at which we found commoners from old Werkestock and Ahrensbach invade our mountains in search of food made it abundantly clear that their lands were lacking mana. However, I had never expected that a Giebe of all people would invade another duchy to steal mana.

“If this invasion is headed by a Giebe of a mana-deficient duchy, and has the support of Lady Georgine, they won’t give up easily,” I observed.

As a member of the Giebe’s family, I understood their desire to have enough mana to fertilize their land and feed their starving people very well. I could tell neither of us would back down.

“Both Old Werkestock and Ahrensbach are greater duchies, and we are greatly outnumbered,” the commander said. “It is only a matter of time before we are overrun. But even so, we have no choice but to stand our ground until Lord Bonifatius and the reinforcements arrive. That said, I would like to avoid casualties among the younger generations as much as possible.” He let out a deep sigh.

"Whatever will become of us if we cannot count on Illgner’s knights to protect the lives of the province’s people?” I asked, then added, “I will fight too."

"Brigitte, wait," Victor said, his face as white as a sheet. He shook his head in disbelief. "You are no longer a knight. You are a member of the Giebe’s family and Lilarose's mother. For your daughter’s sake, please do not rush into a battle that the commander himself deems reckless. Haven't you been away from training for a while due to giving birth and nursing our child? Right now, you are more vulnerable than the other knights."

I understood what Victor was trying to say. However, I did not agree with him.

"I am a member of the Giebe’s family and a knight,” I declared. “Isn't it natural that I go out and protect Illgner? If I back out, it will affect morale."

"But... " Victor tried.

"I won’t be in any more danger than the other knights,” I said. “Moreover, the reason I resigned as Lady Rozemyne’s guard knight and got married was to protect Illgner. I have no intention of backing down from the fight to protect it now."

Although I was no longer her guard knight and there was a long distance between Ehrenfest and Illgner, Lady Rozemyne still looked out for us. She continued to support our paper-making industry and had provided us with valuable information. Although I only served her for a short period of time, I was greatly indebted to her. More than anything, I wanted to be a knight who Lady Rozemyne would be proud of.

“Besides, if I can’t even protect Illgner here, I won’t be able to protect Lilarose either,” I stated. “Suppose I was to perish in this battle, Lilarose still has you, her father, my brother, and my mother to protect her. Illgner, on the other hand, has very few knights to protect its land. I will entrust our daughter to you. So, please let me go. "

Victor looked at my brother with a pained expression, but my brother shook his head.

“I'm sorry, Victor,” he said apologetically. “As a Giebe, I want as many knights as I can get. Besides, I cannot keep my sister away from battle because it might be dangerous, while at the same time demanding the other knights risk their lives on the battlefield. Brigitte, if you wish to fight to protect Illgner, I will respect that. ... although I pray you won’t do anything too reckless.”

Hearing my brother's words, Victor hung his head and sighed.

"As much as I hate it, you truly are a knight at heart. I understand your desire to protect Illgner and your pride as a knight. However, you are also Lilarose's mother. Don’t be reckless. Stay aware of your surroundings and retreat if necessary. We are just trying to buy time.”

Watching Victor concede to my desire, the commander smiled wryly.

"Lady Brigitte, please don't disregard everyone's concerns. The fewer the casualties, the better. As Lord Victor says, buying time is our top priority. If we can make them cancel the darkness blessing, that will be enough. Let's work together to get every last one of them."

While we were discussing how to make our enemies cancel the blessing and what magical tools might be useful, an ordonnanz flew in.

"This is Bonifatius. I have received the Aub’s permission to use the teleportation circle. I will arrive at fifth bell. Clear the area around the teleportation circle in the front yard of your estate, and have your knights ready to depart. We will head into battle as soon as I arrive."

After repeating the same message three times, the ordonnanz turned back into a yellow feystone. Even then, I still couldn't believe its message.

“Hold on, fifth Bell?” I asked confused. “He means today? And they will use a teleportation circle? To teleport a whole unit of knights?”

We had discovered the enemy when we set out on patrol after lunch. After we returned, we immediately reported to my brother, so we had yet to formally inform the other knights. Yet now we were told that the reinforcements would be arriving within less than a bell.

“Isn’t fifth bell about to ring!” Helfried shouted in panic. “Where is that teleportation circle!?  What is the front yard!?”

"Please calm down, Lord Helfried,” Victor said. “The front yard is the front yard."

“Lady Brigitte, we should inform the knights!” The commander interjected. “At this rate, we won’t be ready to head into battle!”

My steadfast resolve was instantly blown away. First, we had to prepare Illgner to receive the reinforcements, and those of us who went on patrol needed to recover and prepare for the next battle.

As reported by the ordonnanz, right as fifth bell rang, a magic circle appeared in the front yard. Black and golden flames whirled around, and figures started appearing. I had been told that the magic circle connected to the Royal Academy could only transport three people at a time, but I could see the shadows of about fifty people in this teleportation circle.

Once the flickering of the flames subsided, the knights exited the teleportation circle in an orderly manner with Lord Bonifatius in the lead. However, a group of at least ten people remained in place. When he noticed the person standing at the center, my brother cried out in surprise.

“Aub Ehrenfest!?”

We had known that reinforcements would arrive by teleportation circle, but we had not expected the Aub would be accompanying them. As our eyes widened in surprise, Aub Ehrenfest calmly gestured us to calm down, “There is no need to panic. This teleportation circle can only be activated by me, so I had to come along to deliver the reinforcements. I will be returning at once."

"Aub Ehrenfest, I cannot thank you enough for your kind consideration. I didn't even know that there was a teleportation circle like this."

As my brother expressed his gratitude, the Aub nodded lightly.

"Neither did I,” he admitted. “Until Rozemyne mentioned its existence. This battle is the first time I am using it. She read about it in some old book it seems. I am sure you have heard she has been busy reviving ancient magic circles and rituals recorded in the bible and other old literature. That appears to have led to the discovery of this teleportation circle.”

“Lady Rozemyne… ” I whispered.

How could I ever express my gratitude? If not for Lady Rozemyne, this teleportation circle would likely never have been discovered and Lord Bonifatius probably would not have been able to reach us in time.

"Giebe Illgner,” the Aub continued. “These men here are just scholars I brought along to activate the teleportation circle. They aren’t part of the reinforcements."

Apparently, the people who remained standing on the teleportation circle were providing the mana necessary for the Aub to return.

“I cannot send any more people at the moment. So, Illgner is in your hands now.”

I decided to leave it to my brother to see the Aub off, and headed over to Lord Bonifatius, who was giving instructions to the knights.

"Those who assisted with the teleportation will stay here for now. Prioritize your recovery. The rest of you will follow me. Now, who is in charge on Illgner’s side? I want to know what we are dealing with."

"Lord Bonifatius, please allow me to explain,” I said. “We happened upon the enemy while we were out patrolling the border."

"Ah, Brigitte. It's been a while."

In truth, this would have been the job of the commander of Illgner’s knights, but he begged me to take his place, noting, “I'm much too nervous to talk to a member of the archducal family. Who knows what kind of mistakes I will make.” Since I had received special training from Lord Bonifatius as Lady Rozemyne’s guard knight, the idea of having a direct conversation with him did not bother me.

"I see,” Lord Bonifatius nodded. “Those black weapons certainly spell trouble. Not only can they drain mana from the land, but our mana attacks will also work to our opponent’s advantage. It would be better if we used metal weapons. Come to think of it, were they dressed in silver cloth?”

"No, as far as we know they aren’t,” I replied. “Since they can counter our mana attacks with their black weapons, there probably was no need to use silver cloth."

"Since the Aub has been unable to detect their crossing the border, I guess there is a high possibility they do own it though... " Lord Bonifatius mulled. After thinking it over for a moment, he nodded.

"It's not a bad idea to prioritize canceling the blessing. Moreover, it is likely that they are using small chalices too, I have been told. That way they can use the stolen mana to revitalize their land. All right, let's go."

Perhaps Lady Rozemyne had told him that too? I remembered the days when I accompanied Lady Rozemyne across the duchy to perform rituals. Small chalices were divine tools used to fill the land with mana, but it seems that in the hands of the wrong people, they could be used to steal mana from the land as well.

Lord Bonifatius set out, leaving behind the knights who were still drinking rejuvenation potions.

... yes, Illgner will be fine now.

The battle was only just beginning. Even so, the thought of having Lord Bonifatius with us was reassuring, and for some reason made me believe everything would be okay.

... first, I would like to recover the mana that was bestowed onto Illgner by my master and the temple.

“Lord Bonifatius, it’s over there. …it seems more land has been drained of mana.”

As I guided Lord Bonifatius towards the border, I couldn't help but feel frustrated seeing the barren spots of land.

"Can any of you feel the enemy's mana?" Lord Bonifatius asked.

" ...maybe if we fly a little lower," I suggested,

Mana could not be detected if the distance was too large. As I began to lower my altitude, I noticed some trees disappearing out of the corner of my eye.

“Over there!” I shouted.

"Follow me and seize the chalices!" Lord Bonifatius instructed the knights, then immediately sped up, charging the enemy alone.

I saw a schtappe appear in Lord Bonifatius’ hand while he was clearly anticipating the enemy’s route of escape. Even though he had ordered the knights to use non-schtappe weapons to counter the black ones, he changed his own into a halberd.

“Lord Bonifatius!?”

We could not help but cry out in surprise. While we still had no idea what he was aiming for, Lord Bonifatius raised his halberd in the air.

“Lord Bonifatius!?” One of the enemies shouted. “What is he doing here!?”

"Don't stop!” Another yelled. “Counter his mana with your black weapon!"

“Protect the Giebe!”

“Spread out and run!”

To the enemy, it must have been looking like he was attacking them head-on, as they started to scatter in confusion. That’s when Lord Bonifatius brought his halberd down.

"Hmph!"

His mana attack was not aimed directly at the enemy, but instead hit the tree line along their path of escape. Shredding the trees to pieces, causing roughly chopped logs and thick branches to rain down upon their heads.

"Holy shit!"

"Entwafn ... ugh!"

Their black weapons had no effect on the mana-less pieces of wood, nor did they have enough time to cancel the blessing and bring out their shield. Soon, the enemy was buried under a thick pile of logs and branches.

"Don't let them escape!" Lord Bonifatius ordered as we caught up to him.

From there, everything went fast. Most of the people buried under the trees were seriously injured, and even those with minor injuries were unable to make their escape, so they were easily captured.

"I found the chalices! We can return the mana to our land!"

After we stripped the captured Giebe of his possessions and seized the small chalices, joyous shouts of victory emerged from Illgner’s knights.

However, the battle did not end there. Last time, the enemies present in the surrounding area had rallied together to aid their friends. However, this time, they immediately scattered and ran away in fear of Lord Bonifatius’ might.

"We have told Frenbeltag to be on guard, so the enemies’ options for escape are limited,” Lord Bonifatius said. “They are not particularly strong, but if they spread out, it will be enough to prolong the battle. Creating a diversion to keep the knight’s order occupied must be their true aim. Not to mention, their number is smaller than expected.”

I noticed a bitter expression on his face as he spoke. The attack would not destroy Ilgner, but it was intense enough that Illgner’s knights could not deal with it alone. And since the land's mana was being drained, the archducal family had no choice but to respond.

Unfortunately, Lord Bonifatius had been completely right. The next day, the enemies that fled from Illgner started showing up in Griebel.

"Griebel has also requested reinforcements.” Lord Bonifatius announced. “So, we will head for Griebel while mopping up enemies along Illgner's border. Brigitte, you and your men will stay right here!"

"Yes, sir!" I replied.

It was decided that Illgner’s knights would remain camped near the border to prevent a new invasion. Lord Bonifatius promised he would leave some of his knights behind, but to be honest, it was disheartening to see him leave.

"Don't worry,” he said with a confident grin. “I'll give you a good view, so you can focus on protecting the border. If you are overwhelmed, inform me at once."

Lord Bonifatius and his knights unleashed powerful mana attacks on Ahrensbach’s land, mowing down the trees on the other side of the border bit by bit as they moved toward Griebel.

"I see. The view has become much better indeed."

"The enemy can no longer hide, but they may shamelessly attack from the sky. So, let's remain vigilant."

As Lord Bonifatius had said, their purpose was to keep the knights occupied, so the enemies showing up from time to time were not that strong.

"Lady Brigitte, I have something to report,” one of the knight apprentices said to me while we were between battles. “I wanted to inform the Giebe directly, but since a mobilization order was issued, I have instead come to you... It seems that a lumber merchant who traveled to Leisegang by boat to make a delivery noticed some strange noble-looking people trying to board a ship to Ehrenfest while he was there.”

As I listened to the rest of the apprentice’s report, I felt cold sweat start dripping down my back. It had been two days since the lumber merchant saw the people who appeared to be nobles. Even if it was a merchant ship that made stops along the way, there was a possibility that it had already arrived in Ehrenfest.

“I must contact Lady Rozemyne at once!”

However, the ordonnanz I tried to send her immediately turned around.

...don’t tell me Lady Rozemyne is…!

I held my breath as my mind jumped to the worst possible explanation. Ordonnanzes would refuse to fly if the receiver was dead. With trembling hands, I tried sending an ordonnanz to Cornelius and Angelica,

"This is Brigitte. What's the situation over there?”

To my despair, both returned to my hand.

“Then, what about Damuel…?”

Contrary to my fears, the ordonnanz I sent to him soared away as normal. And soon his response arrived.

“We are still waiting for the enemy to make a move.”

His voice sounded as nonchalant as ever, as if nothing was amiss.

I had been fighting for days on end and scared out of my mind at the prospect that Lady Rozemyne might have perished along with her guard knights. Hearing Damuel’s carefree voice made an indescribable anger well up inside me.

I was aware in the back of my mind that I was being irrational. However, if Ehrenfest wasn’t under attack, then why didn’t my ordonnanzes fly? The lack of rest between battles was probably to blame for my heightened emotional state, and in addition, I suppose part of me felt that I was allowed to be casual with him like we used to. So, the reply I sent was dripping with anger.

“Then why can’t I reach anyone by ordonnanz!? I have vital information to report! Where are Lady Rozemyne, Cornelius, and Angelica?”

After that, I included the report from the lumber merchant, and concluded with, “Since we are still under attack, we do not have the leeway to investigate when the ship will arrive. Please make the inquiries yourself and stay on guard.”

"We shall contact Leisegang,” Damuel replied. “Thank you for providing this valuable information in the midst of a tough battle. ... Oh , and Lady Rozemyne and the others are in Ahrensbach, so ordonnanzes won't be able to reach them."

Without even naming my unreasonable anger, Damuel casually told me Lady Rozemyne's whereabouts. I felt so embarrassed that I was the only one getting emotional that my anger slowly began to subside. Once I calmed down, I realized that even Lord Bonifatius had not mentioned the information Damuel had shared with me.

...Lady Rozemyne is in Ahrensbach?

I remembered the Aub had said that he couldn't send any more reinforcements. So, it made sense that even Lady Rozemyne was fighting to protect Ehrenfest.

...it sounds like she is still giving it her all.

I remembered the days she would fight alongside us to collect the materials for her jureve. Although a normal archduke candidate would leave it all to their guard knights, Lady Rozemyne joined the battles despite her frail body, and while falling asleep from exhaustion. Ever since then, Lady Rozemyne hadn't been just a little girl that needed to be protected.

...the people around her seem to have changed though.

Back then, it was me, Damuel, Lord Ferdinand, and his retainers fighting alongside her. Cornelius and Angelica, who were minors at the time, were made to stay behind at the castle. Now that they were adults, she would be taking new guard knights in. I left due to my marriage, and Lord Ferdinand and his retainers moved to Ahrensbach due to his engagement.

I suddenly felt the passage of time as I realized that not only the people surrounding Lady Rozemyne had changed, but my position as well. I was no longer protecting Lady Rozemyne, I was fighting for Illgner and my family now. Although, my desire to protect what was important to me had not changed. If Lady Rozemyne was fighting to protect Ehrenfest, then as her former guard knight, I could not afford to muck around. Through fighting and winning the battle at this border, I would be able to help Lady Rozemyne protect Ehrenfest.

“Lady Brigitte, we have spotted the enemy!”

I jumped to my feet at the sound of the knight's voice. The other knights also mounted their highbeasts, reeling with fighting spirit.

...Good luck to you, Lady Rozemyne. I will do all I can to protect Illgner.

[dazai-fics]

Stargazing – Dazai Osamu

Pairing: Dazai x Reader (high school au)

Word Count: 2.6k*

Warnings: slight cursing, smut/nsfw- oral, fingering

Summary: Having Osamu Dazai as your boyfriend has never been boring.

A/n: This has been stuck in my head for a while and I finally was able to sit down and write it out so I hope you guys enjoy and don’t judge me too much because this is my first time writing out smut !

Inspired by: Stargazing*- The NBHD

You could feel the cool of the evening seep into your bones as you groggily sat up in your plush bed. Once, then twice, did you blink to remove any bit of remaining sleep as you looked over to the source of your annoyance.

Your phone lit up with a string of messages from only one contact; a contact that as of late had made your heart pound in a way that was indescribable in every sense of the word. Sighing, you picked up the phone and began to read over the messages your extremely clingy boyfriend woke you up with.

‘Samu ♡:

1:04 AM

hey baby i can’t sleep u up?

1:04

Belladonna ? :(

1:05

I’m coming over, have a surprise for us :)

He’s what?

You were now fully awake at this point and groaned at the spontaneity and impulsiveness of your brunette lover. Knowing you had no choice but to go along with his antics, you got out of your bed and quickly ran to your closet hoping the faster you went, the quicker the chills would go away as they flared your arms and legs up with goosebumps.

You were already wearing sweatpants, so you decided to just throw on a black hoodie that was suspiciously too big on your figure.

You inhaled deeply as the smell of vanilla and mint overcame your senses causing a serene smile to overcome your features. Yes, this was indeed the sweatshirt of the Osamu Dazai; a man that in the last couple of months has invaded your every waking thought and had claim over any flush in your cheeks, dimple in your smile, and crinkle in your eyes as they closed shut-tight over the unbearable laughter released at one of his cheesy jokes.

Of course that didn’t mean everything was all raised heart beats and shared smiles with the boy as dating Dazai also meant caring for him and all his dark thoughts and emotions. As well as vise versa since your life by no means was easy and perfect. However, no matter how bad things got; or who left or entered your life, you could always count on Dazai, and him you, to be there whenever life caught you both in it’s gloomy and seemingly inescapable hold.

Another smile escaped your lips and you once again inhaled the calming scent; now thinking back to how you met the lanky, mysterious, goofball.

You had moved to your new town back in your freshman year of high school which of course meant having to make new friends and basically start a whole new life in a time that was so important and vital.

You remember your first day at ADA highschool so vividly; the sweat that built in your palms, and the barely visible motion of your toes curling into your shoes from anxiety. You had thought making friends would be impossible no matter how many times your parents assured you that your “charming” personality would help you make friends so very easily.

It was the end of the day and you were sure that your still very much lack of friends would mean that would be the truth for the rest of your four years in this high school you were very much forced to attend. You felt a tear quickly escape your eye as the anxiety started to take physical form; quickly you ran to a quiet corner and began to wipe furiously and harshly at your eyes as you reprimanded your sensitivity.

“What am I five? Why am I crying so hard?”

You jumped suddenly as you heard quiet giggles next to your ear.

You felt embarrassment flood your body as you wiped even harder to stop the tears. He was a bit blurry, but you could faintly make out the long, curly, brunette hair; dark chocolate eyes, and white bandages that wrapped around his long, lanky, figure. He also wore casual clothes which consisted of jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers.

Your first thought, of course besides the initial embarrassment and anger, was why he was wrapped in those seemingly endless rolls of bandages.

“Who is this weird banaged guy?” You scoffed to yourself as your sniffles came to an end.

“Done crying?” He asked teasingly, that stupid smug smile still on his face.

“I don’t remember asking for your help or comfort,” you said defensively, the venom not really reaching your still red and glossy face.

The boy laughed again good-naturedly; not intentionally trying to rile you up but he couldn’t help but think your anxiety was misplaced.

“Well then, why don’t you come walk home with my friend Atsushi and I, could be fun~,” he offered, his hand held out to you in an act of trying to make you feel comforted.

Your eyes widened as you hesitantly accepted his offer; the boy rushing you along as soon as your hands made contact, going into a rant over another boy named Kunikida mothering the absolute shit out of him.

Four years had gone by and you were both in your senior year;  nothing really changing between you except the now official titles of ‘boyfriend’ and ‘partner’ which you had longed for since as long as you could remember.

Since that fateful day, you had become a part of the best group of friends you could ask for consisting of Atsushi, Kunikida, Yosano, Kenji, Ranpo, kyouka, and of course Dazai.

However, you knew you wanted something more with Dazai since freshman year and although you two were… close, he never seemed interested in more. He seemingly always had a new girl on his arm bragging about the various amounts of… sexual interactions he would have with them and each time it broke your heart a little more.

Despite all that, he would hold you whenever you were down, wiped your tears whenever they fell, and held you close when you couldn’t sleep; pressing gentle kisses when he thought you were knocked out by exhaustion finally hitting you.

Dazai had intimacy issues and fears you knew were holding him back from officially committing to you which is why you never pressed anything and kept your feelings locked up nice and tight… until a couple of months ago when it all came to a head.

Harsh words; honest words were shared by you both in an argument you thought would rip the person you had come to love and rely on most from you forever. Luckily it did the exact opposite as Dazai decided he was done with denying himself from your pure and warm love that made his dark world just a bit brighter everyday.

And now you two were inseparable; lips never too far from each other, limbs entangled whenever chance allowed. Your other friends were definitely sick of it but you both didn’t care as you denied each other from this comfort for too long to let any time go to waste.

You were snapped out of your reverie by gentle tapping at your window. You quickly turned your head to see the man of your thoughts sitting patiently on the ledge, a goofy smile etched into his pretty, pink lips.

You scoffed playfully as you made your way across the room to open the window for him. Immediately, he placed his lips on yours in a passionate kiss as his hands came up to cup your face lovingly.

“Mmm missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips causing you to giggle.

“We saw each other, like, six hours ago!” You exclaimed slapping him playfully, causing him to release a laugh himself.

“Exactly! Now c’mon I’m taking you somewhere,” Dazai commanded you gently, grabbing your hand as he guided you out the window.

“‘Samu it’s one in the morning, where are we going?” You groaned in annoyance wanting your boyfriend to join you in bed and cuddle you back to sleep.

“Nuh uh uh~ It’s a surprise!” He exclaimed playfully booping you on the nose as you both made your way to his black range rover.

“Alright, whatever, can I at least get a hint?”

“Hmm, okay, okay, fine,” Dazai relented as he began to type away on his phone playing a song from his spotify that came out on his connected bluetooth, touch screen.

Take it from the top, if I start I just can’t stop…

You giggled silently as you shook your head, your boyfriend rolling down both of your windows and turning up the music for what he likes to call ‘the full midnight drive experience.’

“So are we going stargazing?!” You yelled over the wind and music.

“Yep!” He yelled back cheerily taking one hand off of the wheel to rub at your thigh comfortingly.

“Pull it out of park put in drive, I can feel your heart beating with mine, underneath the stars, lookin' for a sign glowin' in the dark 'til the sun shines, made it pretty far on the first try, might've set the bar a little too high, started with a spark, now we're on fire-”

You both yelled together which winded up with you both laughing uncontrollably. Dazai continued to sing along with the neighborhood as you took this as a chance to examine how gorgeous this man truly was.

His silky, curly brunette hair went everywhere as the wind entangled with it, his dark chocolate eyes shined with the headlights from the cars going on the opposite side of the freeway, his bandaged hands gripped at the wheel allowing you to see every vein and bone from his knuckles, and his face was flushed pink from the yelling and wind.

You laughed freely as you once again joined in with his singing; utter and complete joy filling you both which was rare.

Eventually, you both reached a secluded park with a hill; perfect for sitting and stargazing. Once you both got out, Dazai layed out a towel for you both to cuddle on without getting soaked from the freshly sprayed grass.

You both giggled loudly like the teenagers in love you were as you made yourself comfortable on your boyfriend’s chest; his lanky arms coming to wrap themselves around you, one occasionally letting go to point out the constellations or meteors blinking past in the inky sky.

You had to hold in your snickers whenever he would wrongly name a constellation but nonetheless; you would place a soft kiss on his cheek and thank him for teaching them to you.

Soon, the soft kisses on the cheek would turn to passionate kisses on the lips as Dazai changed his position to where he was on top of you. He began to leave a trail of kisses down your jaw to your neck; the juxtaposition of his warm kisses to the cold air surrounding you both caused small whimpers of pleasure to leave your lips.

“‘Samu…” you called breathily causing your boyfriend to look up from the dark hickeys he was ever-so-carefully placing on your collarbone.

“What is it, my belladonna?” He asked teasingly, returning to his methodically placed kisses.

“More…” you whined as arousal began to pool in your gut.

“As you wish.”

Dazai kissed lower down your belly to the elastic band of your panties. After leaving a couple small kisses on your hip bone, he looked up into your eyes for confirmation it was okay to go further. You nodded urgently and placed your hand in his soft locks as if to urge him on.  He let out a chuckle at your eagerness but complied nonetheless; you were his princess and whatever you asked of him he would do, even at the cost of his own wellbeing.

After pulling down your sweatpants and panties, he immediately attached his tongue to your clit; moving it in small circles he knew would make you fall apart. Your whines and whimpers fuled him on as your fingers harshly pulled on his locks.

“‘Samu… want your fingers” You ordered in between moans.

“Where baby, tell me,” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on your clit.

“inside…please!”

“As you wish.”

Dazai slowly placed his ring and middle fingers into your tight cunt, “Fuck belladonna, so wet for me,” he all but moaned as he gently moved his fingers around trying to find the spot that would have you fall apart all over him.

“‘Samu there! Please!” You gasped as he found your G-spot; not letting up until your back arched and you cummed all over his fingers.

“Good girl; my good, pretty girl that’s it,” he whispered gently as he coaxed you down from your high.

He licked away all the wetness from his fingers as he came back up to meet your lips in a passionate kiss filled with lust and love.

“‘Samu, want more..” you begged softly against his lips.

“Mmm what could you possibly mean~” your boyfriend teased causing you to groan.

“Oh like you don’t want the same thing I can see your hard-on from here,” you teased back looking down to see he was indeed impossibly hard in well fitted grey sweatpants.

“Ha-ha touché, belladonna.”

You both shared a loving laugh as you once again met in a kiss, your hand cupping the back of his head to bring him even closer. Dazai separated for a second to take off his pants and underwear letting his painfully hard cock hit against his abdomen, Dazai letting out a hiss from the cold hair hitting it.

“Need you baby, please,” you whined as your boyfriend soothed you with a kiss to the neck as he began to line his dick up with your wet pussy.

“Almost in, tell me if it ‘urts,” he mumbled as he began to fill you up.

You gasped, never truly used to his size but feeling complete nevertheless.

“Okay?” He asked gently and you nodded kissing his cheek giving him the silent permission to keep going.

“Feels so good ‘Samu!” You moaned as he picked up speed.

“Fuck you’re so tight baby, always so good and tight for me,” your boyfriend praised as he kept up a gentle pace trying to bring you both to your respective highs.

“Gonna cum ‘Samu,'' you whimpered as you felt the coil in your abdomen beginning to snap.

“Go on belladonna, cum for me,” he praised as you did just that; the fast tightening of your warm cunt milking Dazai’s cock as he began to cum with you.

Dazai collapsed on top of you, burying his head in your warm neck and you wrapped your smaller arms around his waist.

“Love you so much ‘Samu,'' you whispered as you felt soft kisses being placed on the dark hickeys your boyfriend left prior.

“Love you more, belladonna; thank you for always being by my side,” he whispered back.

After indulging in each other’s warmth and comfort for a while longer, Dazai cleaned you both up with the towel and dressed you both as he then gently picked you up and placed you in the back seat to lay down as you had fallen asleep.

He took a warm blanket he always kept for you in the trunk and tucked and buckled you in as he took his place in the driver’s seat and drove you both back to your house.

Once you both arrived he took you in arms and walked you both up to the front door where he used the key you gave him to let you in.  As quietly as possible, he then took you both upstairs to your room where he tucked you in again and then got comfortable in the bed next to you; gathering you in his arms and then pressing a kiss to your head.

“Good night, my love sleep well.”

[joonie-beanie]

Feline Charms

Pairing: Satan x Reader

Word Count: 5,753

Preview: After sneaking into Satan's room to return a book for Mammon, you end up coming in contact with a charm that turns you into a cat. Everything starts off innocently enough, but...

“Can you not feel it? The way your tail is wagging behind you—like you’re ready to pounce. Did you enjoy the outcome of me getting frustrated with you?”

"I..."

"If you admit it, I'll give you what you what."

"What do you think I want?"

“I think you want me to be rough with you. I never thought of you as the type to get off on being dominated, but I can see now that I pegged you wrong. You’d love to be used until you’re just a toy with no thoughts of your own, wouldn’t you?”

** Please note that this is a cross-posting **

This chapter was originally posted on 2/6/2020 as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.

This is all Mammon’s fault.

…as things usually are.

The Avatar of Greed had begged you for a favor; “ya gotta take this book back to Satan’s room for me. He’s pissed because I haven’t given it back yet—but if you’re the one who takes it, then at least you’ll make it out alive!”

So, you’d agreed out of the kindness of your heart, and had made your way to Satan’s room. After knocking and receiving no response, you debated taking the book back to Mammon and telling him you had tried. Instead, you test the doorknob, and are surprised to find that it’s unlocked.

With all the precious books Satan treasures so dearly inside his room, he tends to lock the door when he’s not home. After all, the last thing he needs to deal with is another body-switching incident, or worse.

For a moment, you hesitate. You don’t want to invade his space without permission, but…all you need to do is take a few steps in, set the book down, and leave. What could possibly go wrong?

Pushing the door open, you cautiously pad your way into the book laden room. You fear that simply leaving the book on one of the many stacks won’t be obvious enough. It will likely blend in, and as annoying as Mammon is at times, you don’t want Satan to maim him.

So, you opt for placing the book somewhere more obvious—like Satan’s desk on the other end of the room. Making your way over, you place the book directly in the center of the flat wooden surface, and then rip a piece of paper out of the notepad resting nearby.

A gift from Mammon –Y/N

You smile at your own sense of humor, and set the note on top of the book. Turning, you begin to head for the door, but a flash of gold catches your eye. You pause, walking over to the source of the gleaming metal.

On top a pedestal is a book with a golden charm. You note that the charm is in the shape of a cat—almost like one you’d find hanging off a middle schooler’s backpack--and giggle to yourself.

Despite what Satan says, you know he has a soft spot for felines, and it’s adorable.

Reaching forward, your hands skim the soft white pages of the book. There’s an illustration of a cat in the middle of the page, and you have just enough time to make out the word’s “magic” “charm” and “water” before there’s a clicking sound behind you.

Panicked, you jump, and accidentally stumble—losing your balance. The only thing to help steady you is the pedestal, and you reach out to grab it. However, as you do, you touch the golden charm, and suddenly the world has gone black around you.

What the hell? You think to yourself, aimlessly reaching out. It feels like there’s fabric around you, and after a moment you manage to find some light ahead. Pushing your way through the darkness, you blink at your new surroundings.

It still seems like you’re in Satan’s room, but…everything is…much larger.

“Guess I forgot to lock it,” you hear the Avatar of Wrath mumble, and your blood runs cold. How are you going to explain why you were snooping around in his room?! Returning a book is one thing, but clearly you’d done something wrong, because his room is about 5x bigger than before!

“Satan, I--,” you open your mouth to explain, but the only sound that comes out is a…meow?

Blinking, you hold a hand up in front of you, but instead you only see fur, and a 5 squishy pink toe-beans.

“Oh? How did you get in here?” you hear Satan speak again, and suddenly a hand is tucking beneath your belly. You squeak in surprise, wide eyes turning up to face the blond man now holding you. There’s a perplexed look on his face, but he doesn’t seem mad.

“Satan, it’s me!” you try to say, but again, the words come out as mewls. Satan frowns, leaning in closer.

“What’s wrong? Are you hungry?” he asks, and you vehemently shake your head. The clear side-to-side motion obviously surprises the Avatar of Wrath.

“Well, you’re a smart one, aren’t you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

You nod, and Satan takes a few steps forward, placing you gingerly on top of his desk. You sit, staring up at him—so badly wishing you could just explain the situation. At least when he and Lucifer had switched bodies, they’d still been able to communicate.

Unsure what to do, Satan cocks his head to the side and stares back at you.

“Cats, as cute as they are, typically aren’t so…aware,” he mutters to himself. Reaching a hand forward, he rubs your head, and you immediately startle. However, after a second you realize how soothing the feeling is, and can’t help but lean into his touch.

Satan chuckles. “Feel good?” He moves to mess with the furry ears on your head, and you melt at the feeling, a purr rumbling in your chest uncalled upon. The sound startles you, and you know that you should really be focusing on the issue at hand—but damn.

“Y/N would likely be happy to meet you. She loves cats,” he muses to himself, and hearing your name manages to snap you out of it. You duck out from his grasp, taking a step back and staring at him sternly. Satan eyebrows raise.

“What?”

You lift your front paw and then slap it back down on the desk—something akin to a child stomping their foot in dissatisfaction. Satan looks positively bewildered.

Unsure what to do, he attempts to reach for you again, but you dodge his hand. As you do so, you notice the note you had left him nearby, and immediately dash over to it.

“Look!” you cry, your desperation reflected in meow that leaves you. Curious, Satan glances over. He takes the small note into his hands, his eyes scanning over the words. His brows furrow, clearly wondering why the feline that had magically appeared in his room is so adamant about this note, but after a moment realization shines in his eyes.

He looks from the note, to you, and back again. Then, his eyes stray to the other side of the room, where the book with the golden charm is now laying face-down on his floor.

“…Y/N?” he questions, as if not believing it himself. You nod, your head hanging in both embarrassment and relief. You’re glad that Satan is smart, because if it were anyone else, you’re not sure they would have thought twice about your un-feline-like reactions.

Sighing, the Avatar of Wrath brings his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Let me guess…you came to return Mammon’s book for him because he’s a coward, accidentally touched the charm on the other book, and now you’re a cat?”

You meow your affirmation, and Satan shakes his head—a tiny chuckle sneaking past his lips.

“Of course.”

Turning, he moves to pick up the book that obviously contains some sort of magic, and moves to sit in a chair nearby. Curious, you pad your way over to the edge of the desk and watch him.

“I just got this book recently. I knew that the charm hanging on it contained a spell, so I was being careful not to touch it, but…,” he trails off, and you feel your ears flatten in embarrassment. Satan notices, and reaches over to pet your head. Again, the feeling is strange to you, but not unwelcome. If anything, you want to sprawl out and let him run his hands over your fur, but…that seems a bit strange, even if you are trapped in the body of a cat at the moment.

“It’s not your fault. We’ll blame Mammon,” he says, trying to cheer you up, and it works.

Turning his attention back to the book, Satan quickly scans through the pages. Your curiosity gets the best of you as you watch him, and you daringly hop off the desk onto the arm of the chair. Satan blinks in surprise, watching you as you unthinkingly make your way onto his lap. You take a seat on his thigh, your innocent gaze peering up at the book, and he can’t help but laugh.

“Maybe I won’t turn you back,” he says, his fingers moving to rub your ears once more. “You’re very cute like this.”

You whine at his words, head turning to look at him. Your eyes are nearly begging, and despite himself, Satan lowers his book and bends down to kiss the top of your head.

If you were human, you’re sure your face would be the color of a tomato.

“I’m joking. Give me a few minutes to read. I haven’t gotten to the section about spell nullification yet.”

You nod, understanding, and patiently wait.

Sure enough, after a short while, Satan makes a satisfied grunt, and closes the book. You jump up in excitement, looking back at him. He responds by picking you up—cradling you against his chest as he begins to pad across his room.

“Unfortunately, it seems that I can’t break the spell. It will wear off naturally within the next 24 hours. However, according to the text, there is a way to lessen the effects.”

Your ears perk up curiously at that, your eyes taking in your surroundings as Satan leads you up a spiral staircase and to a part of his room you’ve never seen before. At the top of the stairs, you find a nook with another chair and another book shelf. Just beyond it is a doorway, and as he traverses the threshold, you note that the inside of the adjoining room is much cleaner—a perfectly made bed positioned against the middle of the far wall.

However, Satan doesn’t lead you to the mattress. Instead, he diverts to another doorway, and beyond it you find a bathroom. It’s spotless—a spacious, dark tiled shower located in the corner. The walls of the shower are clear glass, and Satan makes his way to the door—pulling it open.

You watch him eagerly as he reaches inside, turning on the water. Immediately droplets begin to rain down from the showerhead—and he places his hand into the stream, waiting for it to warm.

You meow up at him, wondering what he’s doing.

“Water, apparently, is an aid to nullification,” he explains.

After a few seconds, steam begins to fog up the glass walls, and Satan bends to set you on the ground.

“Go on,” he tells you when you stare up at him. However, your instincts are screaming at you to run away. You’re pretty sure it’s because you’re a cat—and cats hate water—but no matter the logic you try and convince yourself with, your body doesn’t move.

Satan frowns. “What?”

You shake your head, fur standing on end as you back away from the evil shower. Realization dawns on the demon, and he sighs—finally getting a bit irritated.

“You don’t want to go in the water because you’re a cat?”

You whine in affirmation, taking another step back. The Avatar of Wrath narrows his eyes.

Abruptly, he reaches down and grabs the hem of his green sweater. You stare in shock as he pulls the fabric over his head—his blond hair messy at the action. Next, he undoes his belt, and slips off his shoes and socks—tossing them to the side.

It’s in that moment that you realize what he’s planning, and without thinking twice, you make a break for the door. Seriously, if you were in your right mind, you would have just gotten in the shower. After all, it’s not like you want to stay a cat! But your feline nature is affecting your actions, and right now, warning alarms are sounding in your head.

“Oh, no,” he speaks up, closing the bathroom door in your face before you can escape. You bristle, turning and trying to find somewhere to hide, but he scoops you up before you can. Satan holds you tightly to his chest, making his way back to the shower, and you push against him. Your claws draw lines in the skin on his chest, and he gives you a little squeeze in warning.

“Stop. Don’t make me punish you,” he growls, finally pulling the door to the shower open and stepping inside. You cry out as the hot water washes over you—struggling against him to break free and escape—but Satan has no intention of letting you go.

You feel your claws sink into his skin once more, and you see anger beginning to seep onto his face—but before either of you can react, something happens. The world around you blurs, and when you regain your bearings, you find your face just inches from Satan’s.

He’s still holding you tightly, and it doesn’t take long for you to realize that you’re…

Your cheeks flush deep pink as you experimentally move—feeling your wet breasts slip against his chest.

…oh god. You’re naked.

“Satan, I--,” you babble out, intending to apologize, but when you look back up, Satan captures your lips with his own. You startle, goosebumps rising on your skin as he loosens his hold on you—one of his hands moving to rest on your hip as the other moves to tangle in your hair.

“Mm­--!” you cry when he sternly yanks on the wet strands, effectively deepening the angle of the kiss. His tongue claims your mouth as his own—swallowing up your whines—and despite yourself, you begin to feel arousal swirl in your gut.

“I told you to stop. You didn’t,” he speaks after pulling back, his displeased emerald eyes boring into you.

You know from experience that Satan’s anger appears as if flipping a switch, but this is the first time he’s responded like…this.

“I…,” you blush, unable to look away. “I didn’t want to fight you, but my instincts…”

He stares at you for a few long seconds, his grip on your hair gradually loosening, before he sighs and releases you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching past you to turn off the water. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, blushing. Your arms raise and hug your chest—thighs pressing together—and suddenly Satan is turning red as well. For a second there, he’d forgotten that you’re, um…ahem.

“I’ll grab you a towel,” he says, pushing the shower door open and stepping out. He rummages around in a nearby cabinet and you hesitantly follow after him—stepping out onto the cold tile floor. When he turns back and notices you standing there, you note that his eyes do a quick rake of your body before he hurriedly averts his gaze.

“Here,” he says, holding the towel out.

“Thanks,” you respond, taking it from him. He idles for a moment, seemingly lost. And to be fair, you’re not quite sure how to act in this situation either. It’s not like you had ever expected to be naked in Satan’s bathroom after accidentally turning into a cat.

“I’ll, uh, let you dry off,” he eventually speaks, coughing, and turns to leave. You nod, waiting until he’s gone to start drying yourself off. You start with your arms—quickly brushing the towel down your front, and then your legs. It’s not until you move to run the towel down your back that you jump in surprise—a certain spot above your tailbone unexpectedly sensitive.

What the--, you think, stepping in front of the mirror nearby. What you find causes a small cry to slip from your lips.

“Y/N?” you hear Satan question from the other room. Quickly, without really thinking, you reach for the nearest piece of dry clothing—shove it over your head—and then burst out of the bathroom.

“I have ears!!” you exclaim, appearing inside the bedroom in nothing but Satan’s sweater. “And a tail!”

The Avatar of Wrath stares at you with wide eyes, his brain trying to process the sight in front of him. If your outburst isn’t startling enough, seeing you standing there—barely covered by his shirt—definitely raises the stakes.

“I did say water would cure only some of the effects,” he tells you, and it’s in that moment that you realize he’s standing just feet away from you in nothing more than a fresh pair of boxer-briefs. Your eyes drag down his toned torso, pausing when you notice a bulge in the fabric, angled against his thigh.

Satan notices where you're looking, and is about ready to apologize again—making excuses regarding why he’s rock solid—when he notices that your tail is waving behind you. Pausing, he glances up to your face, and finds that your pupils are dilated as well.

Clarity washes over him, and a wicked grin spreads on his lips.

“Did you like it? When I kissed you in the shower?” he asks, posing a hand on his hip. The cocky look on his face catches you off guard. How is he able to so easily switch between being kind, and…sadistic.

“W-What? Why are you asking?” you retort, cheeks flushing pink. Your hands grip the soft fabric of his sweater as he takes a step forward.

“Can you not feel it? The way your tail is wagging behind you—like you’re ready to pounce. Did you enjoy the outcome of me getting frustrated with you?”

You can feel your heart thundering in your chest—embarrassed, and nervous, but…the way he’s speaking also has arousal pooling between your legs.

“I…”

He’s bearing down on you now, one of his hands lifting to tenderly rub against your cheek. You can’t take your eyes off of him—watching his face carefully as he wraps his other arm around your waist, dragging you into him.

“If you admit it, I’ll give you what you want,” he says, his fingers lightly coasting up the skin on your face. You feel his touch on your ears—ears that are fuzzy, and usually not on your head—and the sensitivity of them has you gasping quite loudly.

You attempt to escape his touch (despite your instincts, which are currently screaming at you to let him continue, because god it feels so good), but Satan isn’t letting you go anywhere. With his arm wrapped around you—you’re stuck. There’s no way you can beat him in a game of strength.

“What do you think I want?” you manage to respond, mustering up a bit of courage. It’s not in your nature to just let someone talk to you like that without teasing them back. Satan, however, is blunt with his rebuttal.

“I think you want me to be rough with you.” His fingers leave your ear, moving down to wrap around your throat. His grip is firm—not enough to choke you—but you still feel light-headed nonetheless.

“I think that despite attributing it to a natural feline reaction, you enjoyed the repercussions of our little chase in the bathroom.”

He takes a step forward, and your back hits the doorframe. Still, you’re unable to look away from him—his bright eyes full of unspoken promises.

“I never thought of you as the type to get off on being dominated, but I can see now that I pegged you wrong. You’d love to be used until you’re just a toy with no thoughts of your own, wouldn’t you?”

Your breathing has picked up now—fanning in hot puffs between your bodies. Each of his words causes sinful scenarios to bloom within your mind—and you feel your pussy clench around nothing—hot, and aching to be filled.

“But…if I’ve got it all wrong, just tell me to stop, and I will,” he says, taking a small step back. However, you don’t want him to stop. You desperately want more.

Without missing a beat, you close the gap he had created—your lips greedily capturing his own as you lift your hands to cup his face. Yet, as soon as you touch him, Satan is pushing you away—your back roughly hitting the wall behind you.

His fingers tighten around your neck.

“If you want more, I expect a verbal response.”

“Please touch me,” you respond, breathless. Satan leans in, your lips nearly touching, and he looks you in the eye.

“Tell me how. If I’m not satisfied, you won’t get anything.”

“I…,” your mouth feels dry—brain amiss with the amount of desperation currently afflicting you. You’ve never needed to be touched so badly before. If Satan doesn’t fulfill your desires, you’re not sure what you’ll do.

“I want—,” your words are cut off as a gasp involuntarily escapes your mouth. Satan’s other hand has found its way between your legs—two fingers rubbing between your soaking folds.

“D-Didn’t you just say I wouldn’t get anything?” you question, thighs clenching against his hand—desperate for more. He cocks an eyebrow at you, an infuriating smile on his lips.

“Does this really count as something?”

His fingers tease at your entrance, barely dipping into your pussy. Even if you think of grinding down to force him deeper, his hold on your neck prevents you from doing so—and you whine as he pulls his fingers away—simply continuing to tease your womanhood while neither touching your clit nor pushing his digits inside of you.

“I would suggest saying what’s on your mind, Y/N. You shouldn’t be a mindless slut just yet, considering I haven’t really touched you.”

His words have you feeling warm all over, but you decide to listen.

“I want you inside of me,” you say, starting off innocently enough. You’ve never verbally been lewd before—the idea of telling someone what you want them to do to you while they’re standing right there is a bit terrifying—but you know if you don’t start somewhere, you’ll never get what you want.

“I want you to finger fuck me until my knees buckle, and I’m begging you to let me cum.” You get braver with every word, and when you feel Satan’s cock strain against your stomach—trapped in the tight space between your bodies—a wave of satisfaction emboldens you.

“Your sweater smells like you—so very good—and I want you to rip me out of it. To punish me for wearing what’s yours without permission. I want your hands on me—pushing me down into your mattress and grabbing my hips as you fuck me with little regard for my own pleasure—only chasing after your own.”

Satan’s breathing is a bit gruffer now—his face burying against your shoulder as his hand drops away, coming to momentarily rest near your hip. You feel his canines scrape the flesh on your neck—his hand sneaking beneath the hem of his sweater and dragging upward—and goosebumps rise on your skin. Your confidence momentarily falters—a hot wave of arousal jumbling your thoughts—but you continue.

“I want you to have your way with me knowing that what I desire doesn’t matter. You’re in charge, and I have no say—just the way it should be. The Avatar of Wrath’s personal little pet.”

Without warning, he bites down on your skin—two of his fingers slipping inside of your pussy at the same time. A breathless whine escapes you—pain and pleasure mingling—and when you attempt to grind your hips down on his hand, he nips at you again.

Immediately you cease all movements, wincing at the sting, but you’d be lying if you said the pain didn’t turn you on. And Satan knows it does. He can feel your pussy clenching around him, getting even wetter as he soothes his tongue over the marks on your neck.

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad--,” he speaks up, mumbling hotly against you, “—if you kept the ears, and tail. I could put a collar on you—let everyone know that you’re my personal property. Wouldn’t you like that?”

You open your mouth to respond, but he doesn’t give you the chance—his lips moving to capture your own as his digits thrust between your walls. His tongue forces its way into your mouth, swallowing the moans that rip from your throat—his pace ruthless as he fingers fucks you. But he knows it’s what you want—your pussy positively drenched for him—lewd sounds permeating the room with each flick of his wrist.

His other hand finds your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly and causing you to whine. Satan’s touches are sure to leave you sore and bruised, but the idea of having marks to remind you of this moment for days to come is undeniably appealing.

“S-Satan,” you gasp, your knees beginning to buckle. You’re already racing towards your climax—his fingers pressing into your sweet spot with every jab.

“Are you already going to cum?” he asks, placing an open-mouthed kiss against your jaw. Your head is spinning, but you manage to nod.

Satan hums. “Should I let you cum?”

“Please.” Your voice is raw with desperation—your head pressing back against the doorframe as the dam holding your orgasm at bay threatens to collapse. Weakly, your hand raises to grab Satan’s arm—your fingernails digging into his skin.

He chuckles, placing a tease of a kiss against your jaw.

“Cum then.”

And you do—mouth opening into a silent scream as you release around his fingers. He pumps you through it—pace slowing to drag out the waves of pleasure. And finally, once you’re able to breathe again—your head slumping forward against Satan’s shoulder—he pulls his hand from between your thighs.

You feel him wipe his soaking digits on your leg, smearing your own juices against your skin. It’s an embarrassing realization—that you had drenched his hand with your arousal—but you don’t get long to think on it, because both his arms wrap around the backs of your thighs. He hefts you up—your arms instinctively raising to wrap around his neck as your legs dangle on either side of his torso.

You can feel his clothed erection pressing at your womanhood—and you realize that despite cumming—there’s no way you’re done.

“Don’t regret what you said earlier about letting me use you,” he whispers into your ear, and turns towards the bed. Within seconds, you find yourself thrown onto the soft sheets—the Avatar of Wrath flipping you onto your stomach.

There’s movement on the mattress behind you, and then Satan’s hands are reaching forward to grab your hips. He forces you onto your knees—dragging your ass backwards—and without warning, something quite large shoves between your walls.

“Mm--!” you bite your lip, fingers grasping at the sheets as Satan begins chasing his own release. His hips smack against your ass, rattling the bedframe with each movement, and despite yourself, pleasure begins building in your gut once more.

“Look at you,” Satan speaks, a little breathless. “So submissive, and perfect.”

You whine at his words, thighs shaking as the intensity of his love-making begins to overwhelm you. If it weren’t for Satan’s grip on your hips, you’d be slack against the sheets—twitching, and taking a much-needed breather.

But this isn’t about you. Right now, it’s about him, and you both know it. It’s Satan’s turn to do whatever he wants. It’s the least you can give him, considering he’d already let you cum, right?

“Do you think you can cum again?” he asks, and you shake your head no. He chuckles, one of his hands reaching around to toy with your clit. The stimulation immediately has you crying out—pussy tightening around him and forcing a grunt from his throat.

“Let’s see, shall we?”

The next few minutes are a blur—your mind spiraling into incoherency as Satan’s dick stretches and fills you in all the right ways. With his fingers rubbing circles at your clit, you’re brought back to the brink of orgasm quicker than you’d imagined—the pleasure beginning to tip into overstimulation.

“Please please please please,” you chant, forcing yourself to clench around him. Satan groans, retaliating with a brutal thrust that has tears pricking at your eyes. You’re not sure if you want to cum, or simply want him to cum so you can finally catch your breath.

“Shit,” he curses, beginning to fall apart around the edges. His fingers work at your clit even faster than before, and you choke on a cry—attempting to pull your hips away—but he doesn’t let you.

With a guttural moan tearing from your throat, he forces another orgasm from your spent body. You go limp—any remaining strength fading from your limbs, and Satan drags you back onto his cock a few more times before his pace falters, and he finds his bliss as well.

When his touch disappears from you, you immediately collapse onto your side—covered in sweat—your clit twitching with aftershocks. Your eyes are closed, yet they open tiredly when you feel a palm cup your cheek.

Satan is sat in front of you now, a tinge of concern showing in his emerald eyes. Since you can’t move, you simply lean into his touch, and he breathes a laugh.

“I tend to forget that humans are so fragile…”

“I’m not fragile,” you respond, smiling a little. “I’m just exhausted. You gave me the fucking of a lifetime—how am I supposed to act after an experience like that?”

There’s a beat of silence, and you glance up to find a perplexed look on Satan’s face. It’s almost as if he feels…guilty.

“Hey,” you speak up, catching his attention. You beckon him forward with a nod of your head, and Satan complies—scooting to lay next to you. Once close enough, you reach your arms forward and hug his head to your chest.

“I really enjoyed that,” you tell him honestly. “Please don’t feel bad.”

“I…it’s hard for me to control my nature, sometimes,” he admits, but relaxes into your embrace. “While it feels good to give in, I don’t like the idea that I did anything without your consent first.”

“I know that if I had asked you to stop, you would have. So, don’t worry, Satan. We’re fine.”

At your reassurance, he sighs quite loudly, and you feel his lips press a soft kiss against your breast.

“Will you stay here? Tonight?”

You laugh. “You would have been stuck with me either way. I can’t move at all right now.”

He snorts, his blond hair tickling your chin, and you continue thoughtfully. “Well, I guess you could have carried me back to my room. But then you run the risk of running into the others—and having to explain why I can’t walk and have ears and a tail. And I don’t think you want that.”

“The others don’t get to see this,” he speaks up seriously, pushing onto his forearm and catching your gaze. “I want these moments to only be mine.”

His words cause a blush to spread on your cheeks, and you avert your eyes.

“That’s quite greedy of you. I thought you were the Avatar of Wrath, Satan.”

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Will you let them be mine?”

Shyly, you nod, and Satan smiles with satisfaction.

“I’ll get a wet rag, and some clothes for you to sleep in,” he says, and disappears from your side. You hear him padding around the room, but you’re too tired to move an inch. Eventually, you feel a warm cloth on your thighs, and a soft shirt being pulled over your head, but the minutes blur together. You’re exhausted, and as soon as Satan returns to his bed—his arm resting across your waist as he settles in beside you—you’re out like a light.

In the morning—

“Oi! Y/N!” Mammon’s loud call startles you as you step foot into the dining hall. He presses up from his seat, hurrying towards you. The other brothers are already gathered around the table—Satan included, and he watches the interaction silently.

“Where the hell were you last night? I went knocking at your door and you never came to answer. I thought Satan had killed ya!”

“LMAO but you were too scared to go to Satan’s room and check,” Levi butts in, causing Mammon to flush bright red.

“I ain’t scared ‘a him!” he denies, pointing a finger at the 4th eldest brother. Satan ignores the outburst, but from his side, Asmodeus hums happily. There’s a sparkle in his eye.

“I don’t know, Mammon, I would be. I could have sworn I heard Y/N screaming when I walked past Satan’s door last night~”

Asmo’s comment has heat creeping up your neck, but Satan’s response gives nothing away.

“She decided to stay and read a book from my collection. I realized she was getting to a scary part, and decided to play a prank on her. She didn’t really appreciate it.”

Six pairs of eyes turn to you expectantly, and you laugh—your hand rubbing at your neck.

“Sorry if I worried you…I’m really bad with scary things.”

There’s a look on Asmo’s face that tells you he doesn’t buy your excuse one bit, but nevertheless, he decides to roll with it.

“Ooo~ If that’s the case then I say we have a scary movie night soon! I want to hold Y/N in my lap and make her feel safe while watching~”

“That might be the most dangerous spot to be,” Belphegor mumbles, and Asmodeus feigns hurt. At the same time, immediately Mammon is yelling about how you’re under his watch, and no one is allowed to touch you but him. That draws responses of indignation from an array of people at the table, but in the middle of it all, Satan raises a hand to hide his smile.

His eyes meet yours, his emerald orbs flashing with something akin to mirth, and you know that even while the others argue about who has the right to touch you—from here on out, your most intimate moments will be reserved for Satan.

And that, you don’t have any problem with. 

[cherrytdatt]

what a shame we're fucked in the head (au)

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Word count: ~1.7k

Summary: peter and y/n always find it easier to be fwb than assuming their feeling for each other 

A/N: this was in my drafts for the longest time and i'm just getting rid of it. this is an au but they are still superheroes.

Warnings: drug use and mention of sex

"What up, loser?" you heard a familiar voice say behind you. You turned your head, recognizing his silhouette. "Abandoning the party?" Peter chuckled, sitting by your side on the edge of the building.

"Making my own party," you said with a weak smile, raising your hand that held a joint you lazily made a few minutes ago.

"Oh! And didn't call me?" he asked with an offended look.

"Sorry. I thought you were having fun inside," you said, passing the cigar to him.

"Sure. Cause seeing Banner and Rogers fighting over some mysterious hallucinogen that Banner's dad accidentally made on the lab is so much more fun than relaxing and talking to you," he took a pull of the cigar, without looking at you. You stared at his side profile, admiring every inch of his face. His eyes that were shining with the city lights, the small smirk that never left his face, the sharp angle his jaw made even when he was relaxed, and the curls that fell plainly on his forehead.

You and Peter had a lot in common, you were Stephen Stranger's daughter, and Peter was adopted by Tony Stark at the age of three. As everyone knows, those two were the most rich and arrogant superheroes to walk on this earth or any other planet. So you two understood how hard your life was growing up. Don't get me wrong, both were great parents, but they didn't think twice before pressuring you two to be the best amongst all the other superheroes' kids. Besides that, there were the absent parents, and all the ego fights that you two had to deal with daily.

"That thing's dangerous," you said, shaking your head. "Banner and Rhodes took that last week, and they blacked out for forty eight hours after almost jumping from the top of the Stark Tower!" Peter handed you the cigar.

"That would make my dad so happy," Peter said sarcastically, making you laugh, just thinking about the bad press that two superheroes' kids jumping from the most expensive building in New York would cause for Tony Stark. "These kids are crazy," he finished when your laugh faded out.

All the Avengers kids formed some type of clan that was known for excessive partying, drugs, and doing crazy shit around town that usually caused some sort of damage physical or financial. After all, be raised by babysitters while your parents fought against aliens and robots wasn't easy. You, Peter, Shuri, and Magni, Thor's son, were the only ones that tried to follow your parents' steps and become superheroes, but that didn't keep you from partying and doing crazy things sometimes. The difference was, You, Peter, and Shuri usually do it without drawing attention, and Magni did it on other planets.

"Cause you and I are not damaged by our dads 'jobs', right?" you looked at him.

"I rather not talk about it," Peter joked, and you laughed. "So, how is your life?" he asked, staring at the city view from Will Maximoff's penthouse, where the party was happening.

"Same old. Studying and being in the lab for hours, drinking, and smoking weed the rest of the time, sometimes studying and smoking at the same time. I don't even know anymore," you took a pull from the joint. Even though your dad's power was like some type of magic, he always made you study very hard and you two worked on your lab developing nanotechnology and other things to help the Avengers. Sometimes you worked with Mr. Bruce, Shuri, or even Tony although he wasn't your dad's favorite. "And you?"

"I'm spending my days at the lab, improving my suit," he shrugged. "And waiting for you to call me," he finished, looking at you, and you chocked a little.

"Waiting for me to call you?" you coughed. "You have my number. You can call me," you said, looking at him.

"I'm always the one that calls you," he said nonchalantly.

"And?" you asked, holding a smile.

"A man gets tired..." he scratched the back of his head, shrugging and looking away from you.

"You know I don't mind you calling me," you stated. "And you also know I'm not gonna get in the middle of your commitment issues," your voice was lower.

"I didn't have a commitment issue with you," Peter defended himself.

You two were more than friends, and that was clear to everyone that had eyes. Everything started on the night of your nineteenth birthday. Your parents were out of town, and you decided it was a good idea to close an entire club in New York to have the biggest party you could think of. After using almost every drug in the building, you still felt alone, and the only person you could think about was Peter. He was at the party, but you barely saw him. At 2 a.m. you called him, and you finally hooked up. But, unlike what everyone was thinking, your 'relationship' didn't go further than occasionally making out, sleeping together and then you two wouldn't talk for two or three weeks after that. You, obviously, liked him, but Peter never dated any girl for more than two weeks, so you came to the conclusion that, even with your feelings, this 'friends with benefits' relationship was the best you could do.

"Yeah, right!" you laughed. "And that bullshit you pulled out last year was your way of committing," you joked, remembering the day he showed up in your father's cabin, knowing you would be there alone, and left the next morning without saying a word.

"You know why I did that," he sighed.

"I honestly don't," you chuckled, looking at him, waiting for his excuse.

"You told me you wanted to be alone! I was there just to make sure you were okay and then did what you want," he explained, his hands moving around anxiously.

"Are you stupid or what?" you got up, not believing how someone so smart could be so oblivious.

"What?" he asked, confused with your reaction.

"I wanted to be alone with you, dumbass. That's why I texted you my exact location," you said, pointing at him.

"Oh!" he was honestly surprised, his eyes widened in realization.

"You are dumb..." you concluded, the corners of your lips going up, forming a smile.

"I'm not dumb! I'm just..." Peter got up.

"Hard to commit," you said, knowingly.

"Oh, shut up!" he held a laugh. "You are not that great either. I lost count of how many times you ghosted me or avoided me," he accused you, and your eyes avoided his because you knew you the times you ran away from him.

"Do you...uh..." you gulped, afraid of the damage that your next words could cause. Peter studied your expression, knowing you were struggling with your thoughts. You took one more pull from the joint, trying to gather all your courage. "Do you think we will work..." you glanced at him for a split second. "I mean... in the future... you think we could work... if we tried?" you stuttered, regret already filling your chest.

"I don't like parties, you know?" Peter said, and you looked at him. Half confused and half cursing yourself for asking anything. Was he changing the subject just to avoid the question? "I mean... I like them sometimes but not every weekend," he said, looking at the buildings around.

"It's not what it looks like since I only bump into you at parties," you said with a weak smile.

"That's because I go to all the parties you go," he confessed. "When you're out of town or just at your house, I spend my night working in the lab or fighting small crimes in town," he glanced at you. You looked at him, not fully understanding what he was saying. "What I meant is..." he stared at you, and you felt the air being pulled out of your lungs by his intense eyes. "I really like you... and I hope we can work things out when you're ready," he smiled.

"Hey, Parker!" William Maximoff called, and both of you looked at him. "It's your turn on the beer pong," he yelled.

"I'm coming," Peter laughed at him, and the boy walked back inside, laughing, with some girl you didn't know, pulling him by his hand. "I'm going in..." he told you in a low voice, and you looked at him again.

"Yeah... okay," you muttered, the things he said still being processed in your head.

He stared at you, and you felt in his eyes that he was pondering on doing something. Peter took a step towards you, his face a few inches from yours, and you looked at him, feeling his hot breath in your mouth. You parted your lips, already anticipating what was coming. Peter's hand came to your face, touching gently your cheek, his eyes staring deeply into yours. You moved your face up, finally ending the distance between you two. You moved your hands to his neck, tugging at his hair, feeling his soft lips against yours, and he held your waist with his free arm. The kiss started slow but soon became needy and eager, your tongues colliding and moving in synch, traveling through every inch of each other's mouth. You captured his bottom lip between your teeth, causing him to moan softly, his hand going down to squeeze your butt. 

"I really missed you," he whispered against your lips.

"Peter..." you started you a hesitant voice.

"I have to go," he said before you could say anything else. Peter took a step back, glancing between the party and you. His arms left your body, and you felt cold without his touch. He gave you a small smile, putting his hands in his pockets, walking away from you. You turned slowly to look at the buildings, not ready to go back to the party yet.

"Y/n," you heard Peter call, and you turned to look at him. "Call me when you decide to go home." he smiled and grabbed the doorknob. You nodded at him, and he ran his hand through his hair. "I'm gonna kick your ass, Will," he yelled when the noise from the party invaded your ears, and then everything was silent again.

You stared at the buildings, feeling the fear from loving Peter more than you loved anyone else in your life invade you.

[secret-engima]

Little Nox in FF7???

Pfffft. I assume you mean he trips into FF7 by accident for a while so sure!

Setting this in like- just Pre-Crisis Core because it’s funny to me.

Also I make no attempts to be serious with this it’s just going to be as much fluff and humor as I can fit in it.

-There is a child hiding under his desk.

-Sephiroth blinks down at the small child, the child blinks tearfully back up at him. Sephiroth is still trying to figure out how a child got all the way up here, let alone into his office to hide under his desk, then the child crawls out from under the desk and-.

-Hugs him.

-“M scared.” Whispers the child into Sephiroth’s pant leg as he stands there stunned, “Wan’ Uncle. Wan’ frien’.” Big, big blue eyes (truly big, how do children make their eyes that large is this normal) look up at him and Sephiroth feels something ... small and fragile and trusting brushing against his senses, like a materia but alive and scared and seeking comfort, “Seph friend?”

-....Oh dear.

-Angeal comes to Sephiroth’s apartment several hours later, concerned because Sephiroth took a sick day? Just- out of nowhere, he called in a sick day to Lazard and retreated to his apartment. Lazard had called Angeal about the issues because this behavior was Concerning™. Angeal agrees. Angeal has known Sephiroth for YEARS. The man does NOT get sick from anything and he never tries to use sick days to get out of work, so what in the world is going on?

-He knocks twice, then enters without waiting because he has the spare key and comes face to face with-.

-“Seph,” Angeal manages in a strangled voice, “What is a child doing in your apartment?”

-Sephiroth turns his head to look at Angeal, then looks away again when the child busily braiding his hair makes a noise of protest, “I found him,” Sephiroth answers with all the serenity of a man who found a stray kitten rather than an Actual Human Being, “he didn’t know where his uncle was or how to contact him. I did not think the offices were an appropriate place for a child, so I brought him here.”

-Angeal stares, the child looks up briefly from braiding and stares back with solemn but content blue eyes. The boy can’t be more than seven, probably closer to six, and Angeal is Professionally Concerned as he steps further into the apartment, “You didn’t think to call Lost and Found? Or security? Sephiroth, his parents are probably worried sick about him.”

-Sephiroth, if anything, looks politely baffled, “I was unaware Lost and Found dealt in children. And Security would just frighten him, they have guns.” Angeal takes a moment to pointedly look at the swords adorning Sephiroth’s apartment walls, the only decorations the man seems to care about, then back at Sephiroth. It’s clear that Sephiroth misses the point.

-Angeal sighs and steps toward the boy, “I’m going to take him to-.” The boy cringes away from Angeal’s approach and a moment later is possessively cradled in Sephiroth’s arms as the Silver General backs away with a frown.

-Sephiroth scowls, “No.”

-“Sephiroth-”

-“No.”

-“You can’t just keep him!” The responding silence is telling and Angeal flings his hands in the air, “Sephiroth, he’s a human being! A child! You don’t know the first thing about children!”

-Sephiroth looks down at the boy, who seems oddly content to curl up in the arms of a near stranger and play with long silver hair, then looks back up, “He appears to be very well trained.”

-Angeal facepalms, “Human. Being. Sephiroth. You can’t just keep him like a stray puppy. We need to contact someone so they can find his parents.”

-“And if he has none?” Sephiroth sounds almost hopeful and Angeal is a Dread™. It’s rare that Sephiroth gets into one of his possessive modes (Genesis jokingly calls it Dragon Mode for the sudden onset of hoarding tendencies), and he’s never done this over a person before and Angeal can already see this becoming a disaster.

-Angeal insists on calling Security, even if he grudgingly lets Sephiroth keep the boy “until his guardians are found”.

-There is no one in Shinra’s citizen registry that goes by the name Izunia. They assume that either the boy said it wrong (he is young after all) or that he’s possibly foreign-born, since “Izunia” is a Wutaian name. The Turks want to know how he got into the building, let alone to Sephiroth’s office, but the boy’s only response to these questions is a shy blink and a mumble into Sephiroth’s shoulder of “I tripped.” which makes absolutely no sense to anyone.

-While Security looks for this “Izunia” person anyway, Sephiroth hoards the boy (who’s name is Nox) with all the possessive fervor of a dragon. Rumors abound and spiral out of control among first the SOLDIER’s, then the regular employees, then all of Midgar over the sight (and few grainy pictures the Turks didn’t censor in time from the public) of their famed Silver General doing his paperwork with a child in his lap, or inspecting the SOLDIER recruits with said same child riding in a makeshift sling on his back.

-The rest of SOLDIER (including Angeal and even Genesis) is enamored with him by the end of the week, but it’s clear that Nox’s favorite person is Sephiroth. Genesis is jealous and tries to bribe Nox with poetry and candy, but Nox will always wander back to Sephiroth as soon as Sephiroth calls for him.

-No one can explain why they’re so attached, other than the fact that Nox is sweet and polite and adorable (and also his magic is curling around their souls in hopes of finding friends-protectors and though they don’t know what they’re feeling, it makes the Mako-sensitive SOLDIERS parental instincts kick into overdrive.

-Hojo takes an interest in this boy who can sway all of Soldier and who gives off odd mako readings.

-Hojo is mysteriously found shanked to death in his lab a day after expressing his creepy interest and making noises about “examining” Nox.

-Nox helpfully holds out a polishing cloth for Sephiroth once the man is finished wiping blood off one of his wall-decoration daggers (he wasn’t stupid enough to use Masamune, the wounds the blade left were too distinctive, but no one ever expected his wall decorations to be combat-ready sharp).

-Nox “helps” Genesis make tea at one point, as much as a small child can anyway. Genesis thinks it’s his imagination that the tea is faintly glowing until he, Angeal, and Sephiroth drink it and then promptly spend the day vomiting black sludge while Nox cries in concern from Zack’s arms.

-Surprisingly, the three feel better than they have in years once the vomiting fit is over. They still never let Nox help make tea again though. Just in case.

-About three weeks after Sephiroth first finds a child under his desk, Shinra tower is summarily invaded by one Very Agitated Hat Man looking for his nephew and not afraid to wreak havoc to do it. The Turks get rings run around them and all of SOLDIER gets slapped over the head repeatedly until Sephiroth enters the scene with Nox and the boy’s face lights up in joy and a cry of “Uncle!!”

-Sephiroth is honestly sad to turn the child over to his Uncle, but the boy looks so happy to be reunited he reluctantly lets go. Izunia blows out of Shinra Tower as quickly as he came and before the Turks can catch him and then immediately disappears off the face of Gaia. No one knows what to make of it. Sephiroth and SOLDIER are a Sad™ that their little mascot person is gone.

-Years later, Sephiroth is summoned to another world on the opposite side of his apprentice Cloud Strife and is overjoyed (and also concerned) when a young child of around ten or twelve runs up and cannons into his waist with a gleeful shout of “Seph!” while a similar-looking teenager follows behind looking agitated and harried.

[seancekitsch]

Prize Buck

I’m out of my hiatus. I was asked for Klaus Headcanons, wrote a smut fic after work today instead whoops

A/N: drug use, addiction, oral(m/f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap that shit folx), female or nb afab reader, thinking sad thoughts while doing sexy things, sorta sub!Klaus, mental health issues, roughness, unedited, i added a line that only makes sense if you read the comics

———————————————

“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never done this? You?” Klaus asks, bringing the bowl and the lighter closer to you. You hadn’t, in honesty. You were the worlds most casual of casual stoners. You’d roll a joint if the mood struck you; meticulously crafted and thin for the perfect little heady time. Or you’d take a hit from a bong at a friends house, only if they offered to smoke you out. Really though, weed wasn’t your thing, it just had to become a part of the routine now because there weren’t other options. You couldn’t get your normal poison, amphetamines, so feeling uncontrollably sluggish instead of uncontrollably wired was the new normal.

A non-committal head shake was all you could offer. He was right to be incredulous at that revelation. You had met in rehab, for god’s sake. Klaus had, no HAS, a lot of problems, some you watched him scream and sweat through during his first week in the room across the hall from you. You were the one that he woke up constantly, because your crash left you near coma and crying when you were conscious. Despite making your recovery hell, he was the only one you could talk to when the tears subsided. Before rehab, you were a a published scholar at the height of your career, working with a newly discovered artifact from an anthropology dig. You’d spent your career hopped up on all of the meds you could find, culminating this research, staying up for thirteen days before having a breakdown in which you break the artifact from shaking so hard and crash your car fleeing the research center with your writing.

Weed was new. It was never your thing. But Klaus was new too, and he was your thing. You’d become fast friends in group therapy sessions, and inseparable out of them. It was unorthodox and frowned upon, but you became roommates once you’d gotten out. Just a small studio above a shop. A couch and a mattress that you’d switch off sleeping on, or you’d just both crash on the flood a hairs breadth away from snuggling. But it was the option that worked. You’d both confided that true sobriety wasn’t an option. So instead of anything hard, it was weed and alcohol. This was something that wouldn’t kill you or get you sent back. Controllable. And maybe one day you’d be able to go into a different field. Get an apartment with an actual bedroom. Maybe he could be able to shut out some of his power. But for now, this is what would work. It was a transition that made sense to you.

“I just can’t believe you’ve never shotgunned a bowl. Don’t all the great writers have their little parties where they smoke each other out? Isn’t that how Mary and Percy had that orgy with Lord Byron?” You wanted to correct him that you were a disgraced anthropologist, not a writer, but his warm thigh nudging yours reminds you now isn’t really the time. You give a weak smile instead.

“I guess since you’re the only person I smoke with, you’d be the only person to shotgun me.” He scooches closer to you, earthy scent already working wonders to entrance you. You wonder if he knew he had this effect on your mind and body.

“So you’ll let me shoot you now?” He asks. You smile, a little anxious, a little toothy.

“Shoot me? What am I, a ten point buck?”

There’s going to be a great feat of self control to keep yourself from jumping the curly haired man next to you, and self control is not one of your strong suits. You were head over heels in lust with Klaus and you didn’t even know if he was into women.

He begins with an unceremonious prodding at the fresh ground bud in the glass bowl with his pinky. Then he flicks the gas station lighter once. Twice. A spark. The flame dips into the bowl and there’s a soft crackle that’s accompanied and fueled by Klaus’ plump lips wrapping around the head of the pipe. It’s almost obscene to look at and you find yourself shifting uncomfortably. Well, not uncomfortably, but not in a way that’s appropriate for this setting. There’s probably more than a slight chance Klaus knows you’re aroused, but he’s being polite about it. Even now, as his lungs are filling up with smoke, and he’s puffing out his cheeks like a chipmunk, there’s this ebbing and throbbing between your legs.

And now, for the shotgun itself. You know he’s blowing all the smoke in his body into your mouth, but the last thing you expect is how it feels to actually have his lips on yours. At first he’s methodical, a slow diaphragm push of smoke into your mouth, your lips parted slightly and drinking in the smoke as it comes. But no, that’s not enough; not giving Klaus enough access to deliver the goods. He makes quick work of parting your lips further by a harsh squeeze to your jaw. The way the smoke and his tongue invade your mouth does nothing to help curb the lack of self control you possess as you moan wantonly into the kiss. The shotgun. You could be addicted to this alone.

By the time he pulls away, you feel like a balloon in that you’re floating, and the hand you have securely placed on your roommates thigh is the only thing keeping you from floating out the window and into some electrical wires or into a tree for birds to choke to death on. You start low, reddened eyes looking from your hand on his thigh, up to his chest. Klaus’ chest is almost always bare. His arms and the muscles of his abdomen were littered with the odd scar and tattoo here and there. He told you they’re from fighting in Vietnam in the 1960s and France in the 1400s. When he said it, he was so earnest you could do nothing but believe him. Then your eyes travel a little more north, to his lips. He needs a shave; his mustache and his chin getting a bit too scraggly, but they tickled when you came together for the smoke. And then you finally meet his eyes, unabashed that you just drank him in like lemonade. His pupils are blown wide when you finally look into them; not something weed would do to you. No, this was something else.

“Another?” He asks, voice trembling and breathy, not above a whisper.

“I- I want more.” Your voice coming out a tad huskier than you intended, not masking how his actions had an effect on you. Your skirt feels entirely too open right now. If you were wearing jeans, or tight pants like his, you’d feel some kind of restraint. Like a chastity belt, you think, some real medieval torture. But it would be all too easy to lift this skirt, or even to shift your hips and grind against something for even a tiny iota of relief.

You don’t even watch Klaus take the hit this time, only turning your head back to face him when you hear him stop sucking. This time, he sets the bowl down before leaning in. Your mouth is open and ready for him, already a quick learner from what just transpired. So Klaus doesn’t grab your jaw this time. Instead, he grabs the hand that’s still resting on his thigh.

And he shoves it towards the crotch of his pants.

Where your open palm lands clumsy and hard against the hardness straining at his pants.

He groans as contact is made and almost coughs the rest of the smoke into your mouth, but you’re there to suck it down in stride. There’s only a quick pause for you to exhale this now twice filtered smoke before your lips re-attach to his, the bowl and lighter now forgotten.

His hand drifts to your jaw a second time, before sliding down further to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, until it strains your back. He knows you fell asleep on the couch last night, so he knows how much this burns your taught muscles. All to his advantage it seems, as you shift your weight to your knee before turning and straddling him, all without breaking the kiss or your removing your hand from his clothed cock. Your skirt pools at where both of your hips meet, and he readjusts it -ever the gentleman- for you as you begin to knead and squeeze him beneath your hand.

Instead of smoke now, your mouths fill with the moans and sighs of each other, both refusing to end the kissing first and both running out of air. The onslaught of kissing continues through some under the shirt fondling, through Klaus less than gently pinching at your nipples, through you unbuttoning Klaus’ pants- now much too tight. He only breaks the kiss finally to beckon you,

“Stand up, I’ve got something else I want to show you”

Wobbly, you give his clothed cock one more squeeze before you rise to your feet.

While you move to reposition, standing over him now with your skirt bunched in one hand and your panties in another, he shimmies his pants down to his knees. All of your wondering if he was into more than just men is silenced when his tongue makes first contact with your clit. He takes the time to swirl his tongue tantalizingly slow, then quickly flicking his tongue upward, making your knees buckle until they land at the back of the couch just above his shoulders. You lean into it as he writes letters to you with his tongue, teasing the entrance to your cunt with his fingers and gathering the wetness until his fingers are slick.

You’re about to beg for it, cry for his fingers to penetrate you, but you don’t have to because he plunges in to the hilt. There is no easing into it, he thrusts his middle and ring finger at a break neck speed. Your skin feels white hot and the only purchase you can find is in squeezing the fabric balled in your palms and Klaus skewers you and torches every one of your nerve endings with his hot mouth and fingers.

Your high is coming to a head, literally and figuratively, when Klaus retracts all attention. You whine, pouting and pitiful, when he says something that surprises you:

“You’re gonna cum, right? Order me. Order me to make you cum. I’ll obey.”

So you do.

“Fuck— Klaus. Fuck! Make me cum. Make me cum on your face.”

When he returns to your cunt he’s unmerciful, working you back up to and through your high before you can even realize it’s happening. You barely savor it before you’re convulsing, sinking your knees further until they rest on his shoulders and he has to grab you by the ass to hold you up. You hadn’t been touched like this since before you had met Klaus, and you wanted more. Insatiable and prone, you make your next move untangling yourself from his grasp.

Sinking down, you feel the old wood creak beneath your stiff knees. This would hurt like a bitch, but when Klaus smiles down at you with his face covered in the wetness of your orgasm, you can’t find a reason to care. His smile is genuine, wide and splitting, the same look he gives you when you come home with pizza. Well, this was about to be better than pizza. The tip of your tongue touches the head of his cock first, a tiny testing lick earning a full body shudder from the man in front of you.

“Please don’t tease. Do a guy a favor. Please baby?”

You’re a sucker for his pleading, and just as he didn’t give you time to adjust, you don’t give him any warning before you sink your entire mouth down on him, only stopping to hollow out your cheeks when his tip hits the back of your throat. You hold it there for a moment, and then only gag as your lungs run out of oxygen. Klaus could be a substitute for oxygen, you’d gladly rather take him in than anything you would have tried before.

He whines, you notice. High pitched and needy. He would probably do anything I asked right now to cum, you think, but you quickly dismiss the thought. In a way you’re glad it’s you sucking his soul out through his cock and no one else, because he’s putting so much of himself into this. You wonder if he’s been taken advantage before. You hope not.

You banish the thought by moaning around the head of his cock. You revel in his reaction, to bury both of his hands in your hair as he all but sobs out “oh god please keep doing that” or something like that, you can’t really tell for sure over the rush his touch sends straight back down to your core.

As much as you want to worship his cock, your own tears from gagging on it start to sting your eyes. So you pull off him, just long enough to ask,

“Do you want me to finish you like this? Or another way?” Pausing to kiss the underside of his cock before adding, “You can have any part of me you want”

It’s like a flip switches, and he’s pulling you back up, pulling your skirt down and off of you in fluid motion, before you take your spot straddling him again. Impatient, he pushes you down onto him, thrusting away immediately finding a groove.

“Oh I’m gonna make you cum— gonna be real good for you. M-make you feel real good.” He’s a stuttering, groaning mess as he thrusts up into you.

“You feel amazing inside me. You’re doing so good, Klaus. Making me feel amazing,” you coo, doing everything to praise and encourage him. “I’m gonna cum, can you feel that? It’s all for you, do you want that— OH”

The thought caught mid air stopped short by a particularly accurate thrust right into a spot that makes you scream, your second orgasm of the afternoon now much closer than it had been. You feel your muscles clench as you bear down on him, trying to make Klaus hit that spot over and over. By the way his rhythm is almost non existent, you can tell he’s almost there too.

Something crosses your mind, and before you fully process the thought, one of your hands is wrapping around his throat, fingers and thumb squeezing deftly so that you don’t close the airway, but that he sees stars. That does it.

Klaus cumming is almost more beautiful than it feels. His cock twitches and paints your insides, and you cum from the sensation as well, but the blissed-out fucked-out face smiling up at you is to see heaven itself. His eyeliner is streaked with tears, his lips swollen and bruised, a smile splitting his face in two.

You move to get up, maybe clean yourself up, but at least put your panties back on. Klaus stops you though with his hands gently but firmly on your hips, holding you in place.

“Just stay. For a bit. I’m not one of those dames you can deflower and avoid their calling cards.”

A snort of laughter. A joke covering real insecurity; you can see right through it.

“Klaus, you were deflowered long before I ever got here, but I’m not gonna go anywhere. You shot me, I’m your prize buck.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Borscht and Khachapuri

Fic request for @gothlebedev

When the boys get a new student who is very pushy with her concern, they learn an important lesson.

Based on https://youtu.be/HZK2RHl5Whc by request

Johann Chu sighed softly, drumming his nails on his desk and slowing the natural rise in his pulse in response to the weather. The view outside his dorm window was white with rain. The sound of its hiss came in waves. When the wind blew, the large drops rattled heavy on the glass. Lightning flashed brightly and the thunder occurred close, like a wildcat’s scream. 

A text popped onto his cellphone. “Severe thunderstorm warning has been issued for the Chicago area…”

Followed by “A Tornado Warning has been issued for the following counties…”

Followed by “There’s a legit tornado on the ground just a county over!” This text was from Luminous. He added a fearful emoji in his text.

Johann texted back. “We are not in any danger.”

“Yeah but still! Have you ever seen a tornado?”

Johann’s eyelids lowered in a slow blink. He didn’t respond to that. Of course he’d seen a tornado. After all... Shavee’s EX was...

“Never mind. I’m stupid. Forget I said that.” Luminous replied with a face palm emoji.

Another text, this one from the principal. “Forgive my poor timing. However, this is an emergency, I need you to come to my office right away.”

It was a group text to Caesar, himself, and Luminous.

Johann grabbed his coat, his umbrella and his sword on his way out the door. An emergency in this weather requiring his immediate presence had to be truly dire.

He arrived at the same time as Caesar. Caesar and he approached from opposite sides of the hall, walking confidently towards the principal office door on the left. Normal human interaction would dictate that one yield to the other and let the other enter first as only one could fit through the door at a time. 

But their eyes met and they both matched their stride so that they would have to arrive at the door at the same time while neither was willing to yield to the other. The result was that they stood in front of the door. Lightning flashed outside illuminating their shadows. 

Caesar was in a crisp navy blue suit and had somehow managed to stay untouched by the pouring rain outside. Nono had just informed him that she was leaving tomorrow so he had just come from the airport after seeing her off when he got this cryptic text from the principal. “What are the odds, meeting you here?”

Johann tilted his head. “100 percent. I was invited in the same group text as you.”

“That was a group text?” Caesar examined his phone and at that time, Johann  walked in ahead of him.  

The office was empty so Johann waited while Caesar caught up. The door on the far side of the room was open and the principal’s jolly voice could be heard behind it.

He was speaking to someone. “Oh, don’t be shy. Here, I’ll go first.” The principal was also wearing a suit with a button down tailored shirt with a frilled collar. He bit down on a fine Cuban cigar. His blue eyes were sharp and glowing with activity. Both of the young men stood up straighter. He only got in such moods when something important happened, usually when it came to dragonslaying. “Thank you for coming out on such short notice. I-...” 

He looked back and forth. “Where is Luminous?” He checked his phone. Luminous had filled the text messages with objections due to inclement weather. “That boy. Ah. I suppose we’ll have to continue without-”

“We could have been hit with lightning?! Don’t you know there’s a tornado not far from us?” Luminous entered the Principal's office, being dragged by the collar by a soaking wet Finger Von Frings. 

“Here he is, just sign here!” Finger held out his checkbook.

The principal pulled a pen from his jacket pocket and signed a big 0 on the check book. ���I did not order delivery, but thank you for your service.” 

“Brutal! Not a single cent!” Finger howled. 

“Now go on. I’m afraid your grade is not high enough to take part in this meeting.” He shooed him away with a gentle wave of his hand.

Johann held out his umbrella to Finger who readily accepted it. “Thank you, brother. At least someone here is kind to me!”

Luminous whose soaked clothes were creating a puddle on the shining floors growled. “Don’t give him your umbrella now, he’s already wet!”

Anjou's eyes shifted back to the open door. “Oh pish-tosh, it’s just a little rain…”

"Seriously principal,  getting struck by lightning is a thing! Why are you laughing? You like to laugh at the misery of others? What a sadist! This had better be good." Luminous shuddered, the air conditioning getting to him. “Is this a prank? Seriously?”

Luminous trailed off. Caesar and Johann both understood that the Principal's methods tended to be more educational than sadistic. He was letting Luminous voice his complaints without interruption because he had a reason. Luminous suddenly realized he was the only one speaking, like a warrior running into the battle shouting a battle cry, only to realize his army wasn’t behind him.

The Principal beckoned to someone. "I just couldn't wait to introduce our new student."

The click of small heels echoed against the rumble of thunder. Her heels were white with frilly ankle socks. Her pale legs had a gentle curve up to her knees. Her Cassell uniform skirt rested right where her thighs began.

She was below average height of 5'4". Her waist length hair was colored light lavender to match her grey eyes which tended to reflect the color of the room she was in, whether it was the blue of the sky, the silver of a sterile hospital or the Principal’s warm colored office which gave them a lavender hue. They were wide and earnest as she walked up to Luminous and looked up at him with an intense regret. “I’m sorry, let me dry you off!”

A thick plush towel was in her hands and she hurried to Luminous who leaned back in terror.

“No, I-!” Luminous tried to back away but she was too fast and too determined.

“You must be freezing. I didn’t know the weather or I would have asked the Principal to wait.” She spoke with a slight Russian accent. She dabbed at his face, his hands and his shoulders and chest, while he squirmed helplessly to escape. But where he moved he exposed another soaked part of his body that she firmly patted dry, brazenly invading his personal space with her female presence! 

“Stop! You don’t have to dry me off!” He reached for her towel but she ducked under his arm and ran her hands along his side. 

“Please, you’re going to catch a cold!” She snapped.

Anjou observed, his face as tranquil as a mirror pool. “This is MC, our new student. She’s just finished her 3E exam and has also come back S-ranked.”

“Another S-ranked student in so many years?” Caesar raised an eyebrow.

“The Dragon Kings are accelerating their awakening as well. I think it’s reasonable to assume these occurrences are connected. That’s why I called you here.” Anjou said gravely.

Chu Zihang lifted one hand to his chin, his eyes narrowing. Her earnest manner seemed completely innocent, but her moves were anything but. They were calculated, swift, and without any hesitation. Luminous could only vocally complain. He couldn’t catch her or her towel. She was only holding a towel, but if it was a blade instead of a towel, Luminous would be covered in stab wounds!

Luminous finally gave up resisting. His face was completely flushed with embarrassment as she patted him down cooing. “See? This isn’t so bad is it?”

They were quick to learn that MC was like this to everyone.

“Johann! Johann!”

Early one morning a week later, the man was on his way to school when he heard MC screaming his name. He turned to see her running for him full tilt. She made so much noise that people around stopped what they were doing. She halted right in front of him and held out a small Tupperware. “I made you some snacks.” She puffed twice and straightened, holding the box with both hands.

“I already ate breakfast but thank you. You shouldn't just do things for me without asking.” Johann turned away and started walking.

“You just eat that simple porridge for breakfast. It’s not enough! You’re going to wither away to nothing!” She grabbed his hand and placed the Tupperware in it.

Johann’s eyes sparked with irritation. He followed a very strict diet plan and what she put in his hand smells of eggs and bacon and possibly a baked good or two. It was far too much and he wouldn’t eat it. “It will get cold.”

“Put it in the uh… the uh…” She snapped her fingers to recall the word. “The oven. The one with the buttons on it. That turns it into a circle.”

“It turns it in a circle.” Johann corrected her. He also became pointedly aware that other people were starting to gather and watch.  “Fine. Just this once. And it’s a microwave.”

She tilted her head. “A what?”

“Microwave oven. It’s the oven with the buttons.” He turned away to walk and much to his shock, she followed him! 

“What’s a microwave?” She asked, looking up at him. Her eyes were so big, judging from the ratio they would fill at least a quarter of her face.

“It’s a form of radiation that…”

“Radiation?!” Her eyes widened even further. “Oh no, no no!” She shook her head, dismayed that the microwave was dousing her food in radiation.

“It’s harmless radiation. There are microwaves all around us. Microwave ovens move the molecules of food, specifically water molecules and that heats the food…”

Later that day, Caesar received a phone call. “Gattuso speaking.”

“...Gattuso?”

Caesar checked his caller ID. It was one of his Student Union people. In fact, it was the exact one he sent out to invite the MC to join the Student Union. “MC why are you on Marcus’s phone?”

“Who is Marcus?” She asked indignantly. “I’m calling Caesar…”

“I’m Caesar!” Caesar covered his eyes, laughing.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” She asked with a touch of wounded pride. “This man here says he wants me to joining some sort of Union. I am not interested in a Union. I don't have any money for fees and I don’t know what it's about.” Her voice sounded like she’d turned her face away to yell at him.

“Calm down. It’s a club. I run it. It happens to be the most prestigious club in Cassell College.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment. “So it’s not a Union?”

“Can I talk to Marcus please? The man who’s phone you’re using?”

“Oh… alright… Here Caesar wants to talk to you.”

“Oh thank god.” Marcus was gasping. “She attacked me and put me in the pantry! There are nothing but beets in here! I’m covered in dirt”

“You’re not hurt too bad around you?”

“She punched me in the stomach!” He whimpered! “Please! She won’t let me leave!”

“Her English is a bit limited. Let me talk to her.” 

Marcus hands MC back the phone. “Did you work it all out?” She asked.

“Yes. There is a misunderstanding. Please let Marcus go. I think I’ll have to invite you in person.”

MC’s voice brightened immediately! “Good! Come over to my house for dinner, I’m making borscht and khachapuri. You like khachapuri.” Statement, not a question. “It’s egg and cheese in a bread. Come over to my house. I’ll teach you how to make it.”

“Fine, I'll come over. How does 7 pm sound?” Caesar chuckled followed by silence. “Hello?”

She’d hung up!

By the time Caesar got there, Johann Chu was already there. Johann looked bewildered as she struggled to help him understand how to knead the dough properly into a boat shaped bread. “Now, you need to …” She looked up and noted that Johann was looking at Caesar. “No, don't look at him look at me. You put this cheese here, okay?”

“Did you make this cheese? It looks fresh?” Johann said in wonder.

“Yes, only fresh cheese for khachapuri. Caesar! Close the door, you'll let out all the heat!” She yelled over the strains of traditional Russian music. “Take off your shoes!”

Lu Mingfei was on dish duty. He looked terrified and mouthed the words. “Help me…” At Caesar, who did not help.

“I brought some wine!” Caesar said brightly.

The woman looked it over and nodded approvingly. “Good. Please set the table.”

The oven was blazing at full power and sent out a wave of heat on opening that might have seared Johann if he wasn’t already used to much higher temperature. MC herded Luminous to the table that Caesar had already set with bowls and utensils.

In a few minutes, the MC had served them borscht and khachapuri. “Good thing I brought some wine over.” Caesar was always well prepared with a fine vintage for dinner invites. He even poured a confused Johann Chu a glass. “How did she rope you into this?” Caesar asked.

“She told me she needed help with homework. But this was actually home-work. Not… studying.”

Caesar laughed. “Okay, I see how that happened.”

Once everyone was seated, MC stood in her flour dusted apron at the head of the table. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were misty. She shocked everyone by suddenly dipping her head into her hands and sobbing quietly. Luminous hesitated but Caesar was at her side in a flash. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“No, it’s just… I’m so happy. I thought… I thought I would never have any friends any more.”

Caesar grabbed a napkin from the table. “Why would you think that? You’re such a sweet person.”

And then she told them. All her friends were killed. In front of her. On Christmas day. It turned out that she had been looking forward to a warm hearty dinner with friends as her last memory and was eager to recreate the feeling of gathering around a table for a home cooked meal. It was only after everyone was seated and the food was warm and served in front of them, that she could finally let go of her earnest desire. She did it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I have to say such sad things and cry like this.”

Luminous and Johann Chu and Caesar stood around her, hugging her tightly in turn. Luminous regretted trying to stop her from drying him off. Johann regretted rejecting her food so harshly and Caesar regretted not understanding her intentions and laughing at what seemed to him to be strange behavior. They didn’t realize how much sorrow she was working under and that they were her replacement friends.

After that, Johann got into the habit of skipping breakfast and incorporating her rich food into his diet plan. Luminous let her care for his health even wearing the lumpy knitted hats she shoved on his head whenever it was slightly cloudy or breezy outside. And Caesar always showed up for dinner.

[wolfpawn]

The Art of Survival, Chapter 22

SUMMARY - Fianna and Robert part ways in the tower but that does not last long. Finally, it seems something is being done with regard to the downfall of society.

Warning - None

Chapter 22 of 22

Note - I know this has not been a very popular piece but I am so glad it is finished and I am really happy with how it finished so I am delighted.

Fianna woke to the sound of birds chirping somewhere before being chased off. She assumed then that it was on the roof where the seeds that could be planted at this time of year had been and the children were given the important role of tending to them, under the supervision of their teacher, of course. She smiled and turned slightly so as to doze again. The weather had been cool but dry the past few days and for that reason, she had slept with the window open so as to hear for any signs of trouble.

The corpses of the men that came into their tower were thrown from the nearest window to the ground before as all invaders were. Once, another few made their way from the other tower towards theirs, under the cover of darkness but the shot fired that barely missed them and instead hit a car close to them made them retreat swiftly. Since then, there had been no signs of any form of life from the other tower, not that Fianna cared.

She had taken an apartment on the 30th floor that was not overly destroyed and altered the area to suit herself better. The larder was long emptied but her traps lair was still untouched, as too was her emergency backup food she kept for herself hidden in a janitor’s closet. She took only what she needed and hunted daily for those in The Lair, relieved to be able to be herself again. She had not spoken to Robert since the day of their escape and return to their tower. She had seen him once or twice from a distance but did not engage him in any manner. From what she knew, he wanted to return to his own apartment but with the cannibals being able to get to him before anyone else, so he was moved up onto the 36th floor, behind a barricade. The only man left in the building. All others, from what Fianna had gathered, had gotten too aggressive and become a threat, therefore, they required eliminating. Robert remained aloof, not risking himself being deemed such also.

It was over a month since their return to the tower and Fianna had realised she missed the warmth of another beside her for practical reasons but as she found herself searching for scraps to stop her ruining her clothes in menstrual blood again, she was glad to not have certain issues to contend with. Around Robert, she worried and prayed for her bleeding to come, terrified of the consequences if it did not.

She had just come back with a good haul of food from her different traps to see Robert standing in front of her private food larder, eyeing it. “What the fuck are you doing?” Fianna tried to keep her voice neutral, not wanting to give anything away.

For a moment, she was scared of the feral look on his face in case she had to kill him.

“I saw a rat trying to get in there.” He leant against the door.

“And you care about that why?” “Why would he go there without having a reason to?” “Because a human came along and he doesn’t want to be eaten, I guess?”

“No, it’s more than that.” He shook his head and leant against the door again. “I think it smells blood in there.”

“If it smells blood anywhere, it’s in my hand.” Robert’s eyes darted to her hands and his eyes lit up at the sign of food. “Give me some.” “Get fucked.” She went to walk past him, not allowing him to know that she had supplies in the cupboard.

“You used to share with me.” “I used.” “Now you don’t even visit me anymore.” “How’s Charlotte?” Fianna challenged.

“Who?” “Charlotte. Toby’s mother. Don’t act stupid. I know she comes to visit you and I really doubt it’s to discuss poetry.” She walked around him and went to continue to The Lair to give in their food.

“Why would you care? You never visit me. You never even come near me. I see you from afar and you run away, even though you are supposed to be mine. You brought your seeds the day of the vets. You planned to leave and leave me!” He shouted the last few words at her. His face contorted in anger at that thought as he finally was able to confront her about what he had realised.

Fianna scoffed. “I didn’t plan to leave you., I planned to bring you. Don’t believe me, then follow me and I can prove it.”

Curious and shocked, Robert did as she suggested and followed her.

Fianna brought him through the barricade she had made herself and to the apartment she had secured as hers. She unlocked the door and brought him inside.

Robert gazed around in shock at how she had, even after all this time, managed to find enough materials to make a clean and presentable home. When he saw Dog resting on a couch, he whistled, causing the dog to get off it and say hello to him.

“He has a cut leg so be careful. I stitched it as best I could but obviously, Royal won’t okay too much material being used on an animal. He needs to rest it.” She walked into the bedroom and found what she was looking for and brought them out again. “If I planned on leaving you there, I would not have brought these, would I?” She threw the sheets of paper and the worn bound notebook at Robert’s feet.

Robert knelt down and studied the pages, all in his handwriting and all pertaining to the study he had set himself while in the other tower. Some of the notes were nothing of importance, but everything was there. Everything he had written was there. She had not intended on him returning either.

For a moment, he looked at the sheets, startled by this revelation before he dropped them again and walked over to her purposely, pushing her against the wall and kissed her passionately.

Immediately, Fianna tried to push him back. “No.” “Yes.” He pressed in more, making her feel the bulge in his pants as he did.

“No.” With as much force as she could muster, Fianna pushed him back. “Go fuck Charlotte instead. I am not getting her fucking diseases from you.” “What diseases?” “Oh, didn’t your little fuck friend tell you, she has warts, amongst other things and I am not being riddled in them for you to get your end in wherever you want, so fuck off.” “How…?”

“Do I know? Because I get told these things.” Fianna grabbed the food she needed to bring upstairs. “So I am not risking disease because you can’t keep your dick in your pants.” “I never fucked her since we came back,” Robert declared.

Fianna scoffed. “Bullshit.”

“Fianna, I swear, I have not fucked her. She keeps bothering me to but I don’t want to. I send her away.” He undid his shirt to reveal scratches on his arm that looked like nail marks. “The last time she came to my apartment, I pushed her out and she grabbed me there. She tried to get The Lair to kill me for it but there were witnesses at the barrier. She’s been exiled to the lower floors permanently now. Check with Royal yourself. I assume you have not seen her since yesterday. This happened last night.” He explained.

Fianna eyed him warily, unsure of she should believe in or not. “I am not fucking you until I know.” She pointed her index finger at him as she spoke. “I waited long enough to fuck you. I haven’t even touched myself since we came back because I want the next time I do, I want it to be with you. You’re mine, remember?” There was a softness to his words. Though they were possessive and unsettling in some respects, they were said with a tone that was almost pleading. “And I’m yours too.” Fianna’s response was to say nothing more before grabbing the food for The Lair and walking to the door. “Dog, stay. I will be back in fifteen minutes.” Then she left.

Robert was not sure if she meant for that to include him too but he stayed regardless and decided to wait the fifteen minutes for her return. During that time, he organised his writings and looked around Fianna’s home. His focus going to the rabbit she had somehow procured and kept for herself and the tins of food he was certain should not still exist and knowing she would make herself a stew for the evening that he may be fortunate to have a part of if he played his cards right.

When she returned a short time later, at a time that Robert was not entirely sure was only fifteen minutes but longer, Fianna looked conflicted as she reentered the apartment. Robert was sitting beside Dog on the sofa writing when she did. She walked over, straddled his hips and kissed him. “I will do what I want when I want. Is that clear?”

Robert chuckled. “Could I ever be able to stop you?” “Mine,” She smirked as she kissed him again.

Robert gripped her ass and lifted her into the bedroom with him and kicked the door closed before crashing them both onto the bed, her legs wrapped around him.

* “Fianna?” Toby, the only person who knew where the emergency key to her apartment was called out as he came in. “Robert?” Robert was the one to wake first to the sound of the teenager entering the apartment. Rubbing his eyes, he looked to his left to see Fianna still sleeping, exhausted from a tedious hunting trip the day before that turned out to actually have been a solo expedition to find more supplies, returning with several notepads and new pens and new batteries for their flashlights and candles. Robert had no idea where she had acquired them but the bruises, cuts and exhaustion told him that her journey to get them was not easy. He was frantic that she would get caught by the other tower on these expeditions or that someone else would try to hurt her but she insisted the moment he tried to dictate to her, he would find himself back in his apartment alone with his hand and not in her home and she would continue regardless. When he reaped the rewards, he did not argue. Getting out of the bed, he walked to the bedroom door. “Toby?” “You got to see this.” Robert groaned. The last time Toby said that it was because his mother had left their tower and made her to the other tower. They could not bear to tell Toby that there was a significant chance she had been eaten. If not straight away, then soon after when they would realise that she was not one to work her share. Fianna and Robert had been terrified that it would result in a renewed attack on their tower and voiced their concern to Royal who declared that if Charlotte ever showed herself to the tower again, she was to be shot on sight for putting her lot in with cannibals. She had interrogated Robert and Fianna separately about if they had partaken in such actions but their responses and Toby’s previously telling them that he had seen Fianna alive and that she had animals in her hand and left some berries for him while not helping with the body he saw the others with there had been enough to have her and the other women believe that they had not taken to such actions. “Toby…” “It’s the army.”

Robert froze, unable to process what he had said. “Army?” “Tanks, troops, everything.” “What?” With only Robert’s filthy shirt on, Fianna rushed from the bedroom to see if she had heard them properly.

“Outside.” Toby rushed to the balcony causing Robert and Fianna to rush after him. Even Dog seemed curious as to the noise outside and leant up on the balcony to see what was happening below. “They look cool.” “Some of them are foreign forces,” Fianna commented. “French, Canadian, American.” She pointed to the different insignia. “I wonder what it took to get that bitch to accept foreign aid with this.” “Chances are, she’s dead or has been relieved of her position,” Robert commented.

Fianna spat on the floor. “May she rot in Hell if she is.” They watched as the tanks came close to the bottom of their building with troops behind them.

“What will they do?” Toby sounded worried. “I don’t know. I guess we will have to see,” Fianna tried to reassure him. “Do you want to stay with us or go to The Lair?” Toby’s eyes widened. “Are you not going?”

“No, if this goes wrong, I want to be here if it does. Get the women to go up to the next barricade, they will come here first. If you hear shots, you’ll know what is happening. Tell them that if there’s no signs of aggression, that they have to have their weapons on the ground away from them and they won’t be seen as a threat.”

“But…No.” “Toby, this is the safest thing for us to do. Go. take Dog if you want,” Robert tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke. “It’s not likely they are aggressive.” Toby was apprehensive but as the soldiers entered the building, he took Dog’s harness and lead and made his way upstairs. Fianna looked at Robert. “You don’t have to stay either.”

Robert pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. “Mine.”

“Jealous I’d go for some Canadian soldier?”

Robert knew she was joking to hide her fear as they had no idea what was to come but he said nothing and simply stood beside her as they waited. They stood in the doorway of their apartment and watched the barricade, waiting to see when someone would risk jumping it.

Son, they heard the footfalls on the stairs, then they heard muffled voices. Finally, the door to their level opened and a voice called out. “Anyone here?” “Two.” Robert’s voice broke slightly as he called out from fear.

“We have two.” The man shouted over his shoulder. “Are you armed?”

“No,” Fianna answered. “All potential weapons are inside, we’re in the hallway.”

“Okay. I am going to come over the barricade, I mean no harm, my men and I arm armed but if there’s no danger, we will keep our safety’s on. Do you understand what I just said?” “Yes.”

“Step away from the doorway and make sure we can see your hands,” The soldier gave his next order.

“Done,” Robert answered. “Alright, here I come.” A moment later, a man in full-field military uniform, helmet and vest and all came over the barricade. When he got down the other side, he looked at Fianna and Robert and called out. “Clear.” More men came over the barricade then. “Which one of you built that?” He pointed to the barricade and Robert indicated to Fianna. “You don’t look military.” “My dad.” “That’s how you survived this, then?” They nodded. “I am Lt Dermot Fitzgerald, US army. We’ve come to help get you folks out of this mess. The other floors below this are empty of living people.” He shuddered slightly telling them he had not been too pleased by what he had seen. “To your knowledge, is there anyone we missed down there?” “No, we live on the lowest occupied level,” Fianna explained.

“So there are more civilians upstairs?”

“Yes.” “Are they armed?”

Fianna and Robert looked at one another for a moment before Fianna bit her lips together and nodded. “It’s all women and children, you see.”

“So you are the only man in this building?” Lt Fitzgerald asked Robert. He nodded in response. “I have to say, very few men seem to be surviving this.” “There was a lot of raping and murder at the start. Men bickered amongst themselves, the women stuck together,” Robert explained. “I kept out of their way, I didn’t do what other men did and I kept my life for it.”

“Smart move. What weapons have they got?” “Guns, shotguns and handguns. I clean them for them every so often to keep them safe. I don’t know how they will take you lot coming.” “We can only see. Thank you. If you want to grab anything you need, do so now. This area is not habitable. We are bringing you out of here. Most people will be resettled in new areas of Britain or if the criteria are met, elsewhere.”

Fianna nodded, took Robert’s hand and headed into the apartment to get what they needed using the two large bags they had used the time of the medicines and packed all of Robert’s notes into them both and the few other items they needed and walked into their living area to see the few soldiers there looking around in shock at how almost normal the area looked. “You’ve done better than most.” One commented.

“Not without issues,” Robert answered, his face stern as he found himself being defensive of how the soldier eyed Fianna. The logical part of his mind told him that it was more that the man was merely impressed she had a military father but the illogical part that always felt possessive of her. He stood between the soldier and her, giving a warning glare as he did. Even unarmed, he would lunge at him if he continued looking at her in such a manner.

Looking around one last time, they left the apartment and walked to the stairwell. Already, some of the women and children from upstairs were descending them too. They followed them down the stairs until they eventually got outside. Trucks were waiting to bring them somewhere safer. Toby and Dog were waiting to the side, pleading with the lieutenant and another high ranking officer to let him wait for his parents. When he finally saw Robert, he pointed to him and Dog ran to Fianna.

Lt Fitzgerald came over to Fianna and Robert. “According to that young man, you are his parents?”

“Not his biological ones but we took care of him through this, yes,” Robert explained. “His mother was a tad….” “Fucking useless,” Fianna finished. “She left the tower ages ago. “Last we knew, it was in that one she went to.” She indicated to the other tower.

Lt Fitzgerald looked at it and violently shuddered. “So she’s….”

“Eaten or in the group you got from there.” Lt Fitzgerald inhaled deeply at what she had said. “We found signs of cannibalism there, yes. But there was no one alive there.” “What? There was a small group, thirteen kids or so and adults,” Fianna listed. “Oh, they were there.” The Lieutenant gave her a grave look as he stated that.

“They killed themselves?” Robert looked up at the tower and wondered what happened there since they left.

“From what we gather, the boys there found large amounts of veterinary medicines such as pentobarbital, which…you know what they are?” He noticed their faces.

“I’m a doctor by profession, Fianna is a veterinary nurse so we know what that is.” “We cannot tell if it was intentional or otherwise but they’re not alive and the few adults there seem to have fought and killed one another.” He gave a clap on Robert’s shoulder and walked off. “They might not let the dog into the camp.” “We can only see.” Fianna picked up his lead and walked to the lorry with Robert and Toby, all three of them sitting together and looking out the back of the truck as the soldiers clipped the back closed and smacked the side of it to inform the driver to start the journey, trying to make sense of what they were just told.

“What will happen to us?” Wilder’s daughter asked her mother who was cradling the toddler in her arms. “We are going to a wonderful new place.” She smiled encouragingly.

Toby went to open his mouth but Fianna tapped his hand and shook her head. “But…” “Let them have this,” She whispered. “Besides, they’ve as much chance of being right as you do.” Toby frowned, internally disagreeing with what Fianna stated but obeyed her nonetheless.

Robert sat back and waited to see what would happen, looking at Fianna as she curled in comfortably beside him and thinking of what lay ahead. “You did as you said.” Fianna turned slightly to look at him. “What?” “You did as you said you would. You got through this without being raped.” “I told you I would. You were a fool for doubting me.” Laing chucked in response.

[beaflower77]

An Atmosphere Of Sorrow

“I’ll be back soon. I promise,” he insisted, “I have to investigate the fit and finish issue they stuck me with at the Assembly Plant. These damn build issues are a nuisance.” And he walked out, forgetting behind the black tattered briefcase he always carried. He kissed her lightly. She frowned. She had no choice but to let him go to work, and her back to that house. She sulked. 

Her mood being dark and uneasy, Dove crossed her arms, huddled herself further into her thick blue sweater and began dubiously walking back toward the front door. The harvest air was getting increasingly crisper each day, and her faculties more scattered. As he backed the old ‘72 Pinto down the gravel drive, the muffler backfired. Black smoke puffed behind. She hoped it wouldn’t burst into flames as old cars did, it seemed to be an impressively sturdy old car. For its age. 

“I wish you wouldn’t keep pouring money into that old crapper of a car,” she said against the chilly air. “One day Franklin,” she threatened the wind, “You’re going to find all those parts fallen off that rust bucket and lay scattered on the drive come morning. And no car for us to drive. Or blown up and burnt to a crisp.” Slowly Dove procrastinated walking back, stopping to smell the remaining magnolia on her way. Outside it was crisp, but still pleasant. Outside. 

Furnace had gone off. Again. She was lightly bundled in a tee, another shirt and sweater on top of that. House was still cold. Squinting at the out of date thermostat in the hall, Dove suspiciously tapped several times hoping to make the little red arrow move in a more positive direction toward 72. Today, maybe 82. No such luck. The thermostat still registered 58, and it wasn’t gonna budge. Sighing against nothing and feeling downcast Dove decided to check her luck with the furnace downstairs. It was the third time this week the power had gone out.

Tossing her slippers aside, pulling on last years christmas combat boots which Franklin had gifted her, Dove tromped loudly down, pulling against the chain attached to a bulb for some illumination. “Oh, that’s right. How quickly I forget. There’s nothing,” she said annoyingly. Forgetting the power outage, she fumbled through the dark, fiddling round to locate the flashlight. Her fingers finally found it. Clicking it on, looking around, she saw nothing out of place. However, sensing a shadow from her peripheral vision, Dove froze. She felt a fluttering of tight sensations inside her chest. Her skin prickled. With chest pounding, throat tightening, Dove’s psyche shrank. It was so much colder down here she noticed. Slowly turning her head, staring long into the dim, was a figure. A slim male figure standing against the bricked basement wall and dirt packed floor. Battered old brown hat on his head, waistcoat buttoned nicely, tan suit, hands by his side never moving. But his eyes, his eyes were sharp. And they stared directly back at Dove. Opening her mouth, Dove could taste the staleness of the basement’s air, she also knew she was breathing it in, and just knowing that made her chest constrict more rise and fall in rapid silence. The man continued to stare, she continued to stare. Too frightened to move, Dove almost forgot to breathe, and parts of her reasoning went out the window. 

Coming to terms there was truly something there, or rather someone, Dove’s gut clenched, and trying very hard not to embrace this realistic idea, Dove tried concentrating only on her breathing and forced her legs to move past his image, the scattered boxes, the washer, and look for the correct heating pipes on the ceiling. Making light of a squeamish situation, Dove insisted, “I don’t think you’re there.” And she exhaled just a bit while trying to calm down. Perhaps this was just a trick of the eye to convince herself it was from lack of sleep. A very large lack of sleep. Her breathing didn’t get any better, but her eyes felt so horribly heavy and tired and sore. She rubbed them. It didn’t help. “I really don’t like this house. I hate this house. I hate it here,” Dove grumbled. “Where is the stupid furnace?” She sense the apparition still there watching, “Don’t look at me!”, she forced out, not too convincingly. A headache began. And a frightening, horrid idea came to her mind. What if it were actually real? 

As Dove walked past, she considered was she just visualizing something that really wasn’t there, or was it actually real? Perhaps it was time for her annual eye exam. No, she had one just last year. Truly it was not easy to tell the difference anymore Dove thought, as her stomach lurched and her throat’s saliva dried. Feeling queasy and nauseous she put her hand to her abdomen. The smell was thick and swollen, it was enormous and it lingered. It smelt putrid, like rotted eggs broken and left sitting too long on a stove overnight, or maybe even a year. “Oh, my god,” Dove whined. “It stinks down here.” And lifting her tee, Dove covered her mouth and nose. “I’m going to tell Franklin there are dead rats down here. It’s his family’s house, he can look for their dead bodies. Not me.” 

Next she looked, which Dove had claimed she wouldn’t, the old man was still there. He watched. This time his mouth turned a slight smile. She turned quickly away, “I’m not talking to you,” Dove mumbled lowly, “I’m not looking at you either. You don’t exist. Just don’t be there, go away,” and she refused to look in the spectre’s direct path again. Just thinking this was all too real made Dove sick. Going about her business, finding the furnace, rattling the large overhead pipes into life or heat, nothing happened. Avoiding looking at the back wall, tromping back upstairs, Dove decided on a different tactic. Sleep. That usually solved all the world’s problems. 

Still his eyes followed. Still his smile remained. And Dove’s feelings of the macabre and fear increased and doubled with each creak the basement steps made against her weight. She turned her flashlight off. She wanted to heave. 

Heading back into the kitchen, Dove tossed aside her boots in lieu of warm slippers and checked the electricity again. Instead of flipping the light switch, she stuck the power cord of the toaster into the socket. All she received back was a phfist and a puff of black smoke. “Eww”, Dove said sourly. “Wonderful. Thanks a bunch. All I wanted was a piece of toast. Dumb toaster.” She pulled on the cord and a little blue zip of lightning came from the socket. “Ouch!” as she yanked her fingers back wrapping them protectively with her other hand. She grabbed a bag of chips and a half eaten donut left on the counter instead. Taking out the last of the juice from the warm fridge, Dove could now confirm the electricity was definitely out. Fridge warm, no light inside either. Complaining as she walked towards the bedroom, “Yeah thanks electric company for turning everything off. Again.” Yet for all her whining, Dove felt enormously better up here, than down there. 

Still things continued to plague her senses. But at least, the smell had lessoned. 

That blue electric zip should not have been there without electricity, Dove thought, but she didn’t let this fact invade her brain, for to do so was admitting defeat, admitting something screwy was happening in the house. Or with her sense of normality. This house, for all its newer additions and older rooms, with the old pully windows and creaky floor boards was unsettling, sad and distressful at best. Each time Dove walked into the foyer the sadness, the gloom hit her like a pile of bricks. Each room entertaining its own depth of sorrow, its own magnitude of heartache and woe, made such a dent in her emotional heartache sometimes causing her to tear and cry for no particular reason anymore. 

She sensed shadows of loss, of tears, tossed away dreams of love. And the regret, despair and gloominess enveloped her more each day. “Such a horrific combination. So dismal, so mournful,” Dove caressed the void and a sorrow unlike any she had known enclosed around her. “I feel so, so dreary and miserable, yet there’s nothing truly wrong or empty in my life, I just..” However during the lonely, desolate days she would roam, roam the halls, the half dusted, half empty rooms, feeling abandoned, nostalgic and soppy. “I wondered who lived here before. Or what they did, what words they used. How they lived, how they .. died. It’s just .. creepy here sometimes. It’s too overwhelming and disappointing.” Such despair and anguish was almost completely unbearable for Dove to fathom each day. 

Looking around, wandering each room, touching a doorframe here, stair banister there, looking over the intricate cornucopia of ceiling designs and motifs above, she tried not letting her emotions pool around her as her sweater did. Returning down to the kitchen sink, sticking her burnt fingers again under a cool stream of faucet water, “At least the water is still on.” When looking out the kitchen window, Dove couldn’t see any other house across the gravel drive. Was it just this house, this area? Did any other house have power outages as well, and as often? She decided it was too cold to walk down the drive and look. But then looking twice, Dove thought she saw a flicker. A flicker of something, or someone moved past the kitchen window. Pulling quickly back, eyes wide, a panic intruded her mind. Dove escaped to her upstairs bedroom and decided to isolate herself. Her mind which often played tricks here went with her, and stayed there till late afternoon.

When Franklin returned with a large order of take out, thoughts of a basement man, flickering images and her sad, despondent lingering thoughts had long left. Having her mouth load up on Chinese lobster with rice had not only filled her stomach but her heart as well with a well stocked amount of peace she hadn’t realized she had missed since morning. A steamy conversation took the place of uncomfortable feelings that night. 

But the next day arrived too soon.

By the morning the heat was back. “Hey, furnace is back,” Franklin sang out from a too hot shower. 

Dove was still under the heated mess of covers. “Hmm,” she sighed. She breathed in deeply, stretched, and rolled right back over. Hopefully they could go out tonight, at least that was her anticipated plan. Today she was not going to let any shadows intrude. Dove had work to do, and she had no plans to plunge into that basement again. But as she rolled over, she wondered, could Franklin sense these feelings, these shadows and imaginings, or was it just her? Probably not. Maybe she imagined. No, not. And fearing to ask, Dove would only hear in return, “It’s just your imagination”, or “You’re just tired, You’re working too hard.” “Perhaps it is just too real,” she might say back. Her eyes closed and sleep drew her back for more dreams. 

“I should be back early tonight,” Franklin whispered, kissing her lightly before walking out the door. “We’ll go out tonight, if you’d like,” came his suggestion. Dove smiled. The car backfired. And nothing was what Dove heard, deep in Rem sleep for once. Fragrant, slow steamy coffee with hot toast and jam filled her dreams. All reminders of the ethereal were long forgotten. For now. 

A solo steamy shower over, Dove vigorously rubbed her body, and proceeded with launching her wet hair down in front of her curled body and frisked it back and forth saying to no one in particular, “I’ve got lots to do today. No time for nonsense or nothing. Today we’re going to crack those eggs and get moving!” And a frisky, happy tone toward work began. She hummed along to her playlist. 

Straightening back up, flipping her damp hair over, something stood out from the corner of her eye. She spun! She started! Dove froze! Someone was standing there! Dove saw someone standing right there, in front of her! Right next to her, and she could see it clearly reflecting back in the mirror. “Ahh!,” backing up too suddenly, clinching, grabbing at her towel. Dove’s heart lurched, she felt it double thump loudly and even stop. Her breathe came rapidly, and a tiny dribble of urine escape down her leg. Dove almost fell into the toilet. The vision was gone rapidly.

The electricity had gone out again. The electric clocks blinked on and off. The sky outside cloudy, revealing hardly any sun made the bathroom gray and dismal. This was the third time in a week. And more than enough times to be caught off guard.

As Dove started freaking out, she went about gathering her clothes, flinging them on and called Franklin on her cell. As he stated answering her call, “Davenport here”,  heavy machinery noise collided with delicate cell coverage. He put a finger in his ear. 

“I can’t!” she claimed. “I can’t do this anymore! Franklin! Franklin, please come home! I want to go home! I don’t want to be here anymore!” Dove was emphatically blunt and direct. 

“Do what?!” he questioned, not hearing her clear enough. “Dove? What’s the matter? Where are you? What’s going on?!” As too much noise drowned Dove’s pleas and pain out, “Wait! Let me move out of here. Hang on!” And he walked away from the noise. “Turn off those cylinders! Make sure you leave those plugs on,” Franklin announced as he backed out of the plants’ all too clamorous building. “Ok Dove, what’s the problem?” He sincerely wanted to understand, for he too had noticed eerie things happening. He needed clarity, a definition of understanding, and of course she was there all day alone. 

As she waited for him to move, Dove rammed herself onto their bed and stuffed her body on top of the covers while trying to keep her head together. Her heart raced as she looked around, promising no more frightening shadows were in sight. Or listening to her conversation. “Franklin,” she tried first appealing to his intellect, “I don’t want to be in this house any longer. It’s uncomfortable.” When that approach didn’t get an immediate response, “Franklin,” Dove continued more forcefully, “It’s looking at me. The house is looking at me. It’s watching me,” she pleaded. “There are shadows, things, noises! I can’t stand it! I see them everywhere, I don’t like it, I don’t like it here.” 

“Dove,” was all he could strangle out. 

“No. No Franklin. If I stay another minute in this house, I will go mad.” She let that tidbit sink in. The phone connection was silent. “Franklin? Frank?”

Franklin went silent. “Dove, it’s just a house,” he tried convincing her. But he knew, he knew she also knew. He had sensed something creepy as well, just didn’t think he’d noticed it, maybe didn’t want to acknowledge it, but yeah, something wrong was going on. Something was wrong with that blasted house. He had promised his Uncle they would fix up. That was the plan. Fix it up as a favor, sell it, split the proceeds 80/20 for a better place. That made Dove happy originally knowing then they could afford the little place they had dreamed of last year. That was the plan. It was a good plan. It was.

“No!” Dove repeated firmly. “It’s not just a house! It’s, it’s everything, it’s everywhere! Franklin! This house, it watches me, everywhere! In the basement, in the kitchen! Franklin, in the god damn shower!” That got his attention. That was as close to creepy as it would get for Franklin. As much as Dove was concentrating on the phone, she also scanned the room. “No more. I can’t do this anymore. It’s creepy here, something’s wrong here. This place is not right.  It’s beginning to get like a shi  .“

“I’ll come home. It’s okay,” he cut her off. “Give me a couple hours to sort things out here. I’ll be home. We’ll talk. It’ll be okay.” Promising and calming Dove, getting her to subside a bit, Franklin ended the call, closed his eyes, breathed in heavily, finally admitting the house, that house was indeed a problem. A huge freaking problem. A problem he had to deal with, just like everything else right now he had to deal with. Making more calls, signing off on orders, rearranging and arguing with production managers, Franklin made it clear he was going home for the day. Early. To deal with that house. Maybe not. He would check Dove’s current mood, talk with her, then make a decision. Filled with fear of making a dreadful mistake, Franklin waffled. Still he had to go home, to that blasted mess of a house.

Dealings of that day dealt with, Franklin and Dove settled into a calmer, steadier albeit slightly downcast mood. Franklin took the rest of the week off, and both arranged themselves into a swift routine of mutual breakfasts, restoring and refinishing older sections of the house, and carry out for dinners. Still with menacing and threatening shadows lurking around corners, a much needed quieter unity now settled over the place, and both Dove and Franklin as well. 

It didn’t last long enough. The electricity went out again. Too often it seemed.

“Franklin, turn the heat up! It’s freezing in here!” Dove yelled from the kitchen.

“Heat’s off again!” he yelled back. “Grab a sweater! Get one for me too, would ‘ya!”

Hammering away on loose boards against a tight stairway, Franklin reached behind him for the remaining nails. Should he use the flooring nails, or the cut nails? Instead, he just reached for whatever was behind him, and as he did, so too did the icy hand which reached out to touch his. Feeling the instant frostiness, instinctively knowing it couldn’t be Dove’s, Franklin yanked his hand away, while alarmingly pivoting his head. As he did so, his balance was so severely lost and Franklin spiraled and tumbled down the cracked stairs to land with a thud! The crash was heard five miles away. His hip, elbow and side leg was going to pain him for an entire week or three. And he tried to right himself  while unclenching his jaw. “Oh, what the hell, for crap’s sake was that about?” he groaned. His movements slowed, and his vision spun and blurred.

“Franklin?!” yelled Dove from the kitchen. She ran, spilling the coffee off the counter. And slipped. Or rather was pushed. Gently of course. “Ugh. Son of a ...,” Dove began. Then remembering, “Franklin?!” Slowly she turned, picking herself up and wiped her wet coffee stained palms down her jeans.

“I’m okay,” he guessed dazed, simply too stunned to think of anything else to say, and looked up the stairs. A shadow drifted off. He thought he saw a shadow drift off. Between witnessing himself move off the ground, cradling his hands, and gazing toward the top of the stairs, “I guess I’m ok,” he reiterated. Looking at her soiled, wet pants, “What happened to you?” he asked

“I fell.” 

Franklin could only look on in befuddlement, with a slight dawning of dread.

Looking him over, “Now do you believe me?” Dove asked for confirmation. She wrapped her wet blue sweater closer. “Franklin?” He continued to look up the stairs. “It’s this house Franklin. It’s something here. Here. I feel so, so..” Dove could not continue her strange thought, only to relay to the cool, dispassionate air, “So much sorrow. So much loss and regret. I felt that I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow.” Franklin stopped his upward gaze and simply stared at her aghast. An atmosphere of sorrow? He tried fathoming what she was talking about. Dove continued to stand and stare into nothingness. Franklin continued to stare at Dove. 

He felt somewhat, perhaps all was already lost. His thoughts now had turned into a confirmation of sorts. This was not the Dove he knew and loved. His Dove was strong, bold and independent. This Dove was becoming frail, skittish and scared. Her thoughts were turning inward lately, while trying to retain some control over her life, her mind. But her sorrow, yes her sorrow was akin to breathing in an atmosphere of sorrow. Franklin tried rescuing her. 

Making light of the situation, “Yeah, yeah,” Franklin admitted explaining. “Something touched me.” His speaking aloud made Dove to suddenly turn toward him snapping out of her own dismal thoughts. He continued, “It was something icy cold but I knew it wasn’t you. I guess I just freaked and moved too fast, and fell. I, I don’t know.” He rubbed his neck and back of his head for soreness. His leg hurt the most, a lump was forming. But he knew otherwise. It was definitely the house or whatever remained of its’ previously previous owners. Or something to that effect. He couldn’t sort it out. Didn’t want to. A feeling of direness overcame him, and again Franklin changed the subject, grabbing Dove’s hand. “Let’s eat. Indian? Italian? What do you feel like? You like sushi right? Let’s get that. I’ll order your favs, you get changed. It’ll be here in no time.” 

He was too afraid to ask how she fell.

Another day, another night. More shadows, More noises, more of the same upsetting, unsettling feelings passed between them and the house. They both had thought this night or that night would be their last night here. Neither made any attempt to move. Until one particular night late in the evening.

“Franklin?” whispered Dove. They had just settled in bed for an hour or so. “Franklin?” and she gave his arm a little nudge. Nothing. She waited. Dove cuddled down further in bed, squeezing herself closer to the heat of Franklin’s sleeping body. Try at she may, sleep wouldn’t come. Hearing noises, ticks, rattlings and other sounds she couldn’t place, Dove tried in vain to reconcile her restlessness with something other than the obvious. The house was unhappy. Rather quite unhappy. The emotional feeling was solid and freely roaming throughout.

As Dove nervously lay there listening to the unpleasant noise of unhappiness, of sorrow and dread, she twisted her body in such a way to look behind herself. A foreboding darkness surrounded her. And again she pleaded whispering, “Franklin?” while bumping him squarely on the arm. “Franklin.” Slowly his eyes opened. “I feel like there’s a big ball of badness coming.”

Upon seeing Dove awake and in a half crouching position, “What?” Franklin was half asleep and confused, however sensing her direness, her grief, pain and doom. “Dove?” again her asked. Turning, twisting and sitting up to touch her face, her arm, Franklin noticed what she was looking at. “What the..” He had to twist around in bed to look up and behind. 

Franklin always had the witless idea to place the head of any bed nearest the door. It was a dumb idea, a dumb thing to do. They always say never place your back toward the entrance of a door, you can’t see what’s coming. Well, again he had placed the foot of the bed facing the opposite wall and the head toward the door. Brainless. Dorky she would call it. He would admit for a long time the idea was dumb. 

Looking behind and up, Franklin could swear a pitch solid black silhouette of a man stood by the head of the bed. Only about three feet away. And stared down. There were no eyes this time, but they knew a stare even when it couldn’t be seen. Dove stared back parting her mouth just a little, letting her frosty breath come and go of its own volition. In, out, in, out. She dragged the covers closer forward, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the silhouette. 

“Close your eyes,” Franklin ordered. “Dove, close your eyes.” She couldn’t. Franklin felt her emotional dread, heartache and sorrow accost him all at once. He suddenly what it was to breathe an atmosphere of sorrow.

Grabbing Dove by both arms, “Look at me,” Franklin sternly directed. “Only look at me. Dove!” She did. “Don’t look at it,” commanded Franklin. “Keep your eyes on me. Only on me.” And Dove did. She never looked again in front of her. Continuing to stare only at Franklin however, Dove would never let go of the panic, the fright, the pain of the apparition. She also would never see the shadow blink, the unseen eyes glow, fading in and out of the dark, and never would see the shadow emit such loss, such wretchedness and torment of remorse. She never saw when it dissipated and left. But she did see Franklin, she saw his eyes, the bright gray light reflecting back everything which was good, kind and connected to her own. And she stayed that way for a very long time. 

After what seemed like a perpetual eternity, Dove’s eyes closed. And when they opened again, she was cradled against Franklin’s body, wrapped up warm in a multitude of blankets. And Franklin, still awake and alert. 

Smiling up at him, the phantom boogieman of last night long from her mind, Dove had the mindset to get up and make them both fresh coffees. “How about some coffee? I”ll make so .. “

“Pack your things,” Franklin earnestly stated. Dove’s look of surprise began a panic anew which was long forgotten again. Again he reiterated, “We’re leaving. Now. No coffee, no nothing. Pack your things, and whatever you want. We’re going.” Dove’s slow apprehension turned quickly to a fluster.

“But,” she stammered. “Raphael? What about Raphael?”

Flinging back heated covers, “I’ll tell my Uncle we don’t have the funds anymore to fix this place up. It’s no big deal. It’ll be fine.” Franklin leaned forward pressing his palms into the mattress, “Look Dove, I’ve been thinking. I thought all night. There’s something up with this place. Shadows, cold spots, unexplained noises. Actual spectres now? It’s getting to both of us. It’s weird. This place is too weird. I don’t want to say haunted, but. We need to leave.”

So he could tell, he could feel it too, he could. It was a welcome confirmation to Dove. A little elation, a little excitement, both permitting her mood to swing in a more positive direction, her cheeks heated, face and neck seeming to flush. With renewed spark of energy, Dove almost fell off the bed while detangling her feet from the mess of covers. “Ok,” she settled on. Just, “Ok!” And her mood rejoiced. Dove sprang into action.

No noise from downstairs that morning, no shadows popping round corners, no visions of strange basement men in beige suits smiling after her, Dove set about dumping clothing into duffle bags, folding towels and bagging up toiletries. Sifting through unknown drawers. Franklin boxed up books, kitchenware and car paraphernalia. The day jubilantly went by. Dove was even more blithe and enchanted while setting aside little trinkets and jewelry from the house she had found which agreed with her clothing choices and suited her mood. But the day also dragged on ‘till almost dusk.

The car packed full, bottles of water settled in cup holders, Franklin shut the trunk of the Pinto with a slam. Dove being almost elated, had just one last look behind her as Franklin encased himself within his seat belt, shutting the car door and turned over the engine. “Franklin,” she stated. He didn’t want to hear it. He knew what she would say. He himself had felt the pull from the house behind him. The pull and weight of anguish and distress the house sent off. He felt it come hurtling towards him, towards them. He wanted to get away now.

“Franklin,” Dove mentioned merely as a fact, “The house, there’s a something in the window. Franklin? Do you see it? Should we stay?” And as Franklin refused to look back, “Maybe we should stay,” Dove mildly suggested. It wasn’t a question. 

“No.” was the firm statement Dove was handed. “Buckle up. Let’s go. Don’t look back.” She didn’t. But still she was frightened not too. The car’s motor sputtered and sparked then finally thundered to life. It sped off. The road underneath tires crunched and battered noisily.

The driveway wasn’t long, just filled with dust and gravel. Their hearts weren’t breaking, just tired filled with regret, but also the need to escape and break free. The dusk encased them, twilight loomed, the house beckoned. The dusk, twilight and all encompassing night turned into ...

“Franklin look out!” screeched Dove, “Ahh!” as the vision swiftly bolted in front. “Franklin! It’s!, Its! No, Franklin!” as she shrieked over and over and over. She desperately tried to free herself from the strangling belt buckle. By now Dove was lost in her own screams and howls as night, cloud, dust and mist enveloped her. Those beautiful screams mingled and mixed with the beautiful vintage jewelry she carelessly stole and packed away.

Gritting his teeth, Franklin forcefully cranked the wheel to the left, while slamming on the brakes careening the front end into a pile of thickly placed trees. The sound and squash of the hood was solid and deafening. A flash blinded him. Hands grabbed for him. The smell of densely packed dirt and night and sulfur and decay splayed around them.

“Dove!” Franklin shouted, “Dove! Where are you?! Dove!” He was blinded for eons. “No!, No!, Dove!” he screamed over and over till there were no more of his own screams left to hear. 

When calls were left unanswered, when the ringing of the doorbell issued no response, when their car was later found, there were no answers to a multitude of questions. The sturdy little Pinto smashed against trees, woods extensively searched, unfinished house remodeling left abandoned, Franklin’s Uncle had no choice but to give up, and let the two young starlights go. 

No one would ever find the result of their screams. Ever.

[meereens]

@asoiafrarepairs [a weekend in the stormlands]

argella durrandon x rhaenys targaryen

Argella Durrandon had been alone, watching the sunless waters slosh below the great seaward wall like black wine when the rider came. Maester Oswald was the one to inform her, with eyes as flat as his voice. Her father would not have sent only one man forth to proclaim a victory. Time slowed as she descended from the battlements, the wind lulling her along as it blew the ends of her dagged sleeves forward. Gold sleeves, gold fabric like the banners that had been raised so proudly when her father left to combat the invading horde. The man who had beaten the Dornish as a green boy and killed a green king before her lifetime rallied the men of the Stormlands easily, their brassy shouts melding with her own as all cheered his valor. He had placed a gauntleted paw on her shoulder and told her to keep Storm’s End from falling into the waves in his absence. He had given her a garrison of two hundred to aid in the task. 

Most of those men were in the courtyard now, the life sapped from their faces. Ser Harrold looked eons older than six-and-twenty, while Ser Brenwyl on his right had transformed his wide mouth into a straight line. At least they could stand each other’s company again; the other day she had found herself compelled to break up a heated game of dice, suggesting she would hand the instruments of their fun over to the sea god and his minions. The new face in the center drank from an offered wineskin, stroking the flank of his chestnut courser with his other hand. Its legs were caked with mud. He stumbled into taking a knee once Argella stood a hair’s breadth away from him. 

“My princess.”

She lifted a hand. “Rise.” 

He obeyed and glanced over at Ser Haldrick Cole.

“Ser Morrey, say your piece,” the commander said. If he had said it already, every soul presently assembled would have known before her, from knight to meandering washerwoman. Janson, the old, limping master of horse had crawled out from his post ahead of her to hear what had befallen their people’s champion. Ahead of her, his daughter, his heir, who should have been there to raise the gate. Ser Morrey heaved a breath, but Argella cut him off. 

“I assume my father is dead.” 

“Yes, Princess.” He seemed relieved to not have to say it to her himself, earning a quick glare. Small wonder her father had fallen if he had such yellow-bellies rotting his ranks.

“And what of his army?”

“The battle was done as soon as he was.”

They should have pressed on. Did the lords who had wet their beards with mead in her father’s hall and supped on pheasant swallow their oaths as well? Truer men would have fought for their homeland, for their king’s memory, for her. The battle was not yet done, not for as long as a Durrandon breathed; did they intend to serve her up on a golden plate? She raised her eyes from Ser Morrey’s apologetic ones and scanned the yard, a parade of statues swaddled in plate and mail, eying her in turn. Someone in the front started hacking, an ugly, feline cough that lasted long enough to disrupt the boiling in her veins. 

“You may speak on it more, ser,” she prompted.

“We met the enemy on the hills south of Bronzegate,” he began. “They had the high ground, but we had the numbers. Near twice as many men, and far more knights besides. It was drizzling as we closed in, by midday, storming. Your father’s bannermen wanted a delay, but he must have known the storm would ground the Targaryen monster. The rain blew from the south, blinding their men. He gave the command, and thrice we struggled up the steep and muddy slopes. It must have been night by then, or else the darkest day. As we broke through to the center, the dragon emerged.” 

Argella inhaled slowly. The dragon sicced on their hills was the same beast that had laid waste to the kingswood, incinerating Lord Errol. Lords Fell and Buckler had ridden back to warn her father of the creature and the queen who held it in thrall, the woman mated to her own brother. 

“It was impossible to see at first, hidden by the line, and with dark grey scales like the clouds overhead. The murk of the storm masked its true size as well, though it could fit a garrison on its back. Rhaenys Targaryen blinked, and the van went up in dragonflame. Panic set in, horses screeching, but your father did not yield. I fought until I heard shouts that he had been slain. By Baratheon, they said. Our spirits had been broken.” 

Her body would make no room for a yoked spirit, nor would her spirit permit useless grief. 

“Is yours broken still, Ser Morrey?”

He paused before answering. “Truly? It depends upon what happens next.”

“Then I shall tell you,” she said simply. Her father had possessed a deep, booming voice; thunder in a man’s throat, her mother called it. He could command any room by clearing his throat, a yard by uttering men! Hers was low for a woman, rich in timbre, but it had yet to capture the attention of an army. It had yet to inspire awe. She breathed deep within her and addressed not only Ser Morrey but all gathered under the white-and-grey marbled sky. You are my people, she thought. For as long as we last. 

***

She was the Storm Queen now, the first there ever was, in a world where another queen controlled the skies. Argella insisted on accompanying Ser Haldrick to watch the men drill with bows, spears, and crossbows. The grey-scaled dragon would fly hundreds of feet above their heads, armed with an intelligent rider as well as a flaming gullet. He knew as well as she did that their weapons’ chances of making meaningful contact were slim to none. Since she had barred her gates, however, maintaining the hope of a chance against the Targaryen threat was paramount. 

Privately, as they sat with a tankard of ale between them, Maester Oswald had invited her to speak in candid terms. 

“My terms are always candid,” she had said. “I would rather die a queen than live a wife.”

A row of men launched their spears into the air. Eight out of ten struck their makeshift targets in the belly. When the host approached, would her father’s killer ask the queen to spare her for her useful womb? Another row lined up to aim, spears at the ready, when a large shadow passed over the ground. She saw heads lift, heard the wonder worm its way through the fear as the shout rang:

“Dragon!” 

Slowly, her eyes made their way up until she was craning her neck to see. An overgrown gargoyle, that was what it resembled from afar, with its massive batlike wings. It dipped down long enough for her to catch a glimpse of its lizardine foot, gnarled and wicked, before it rushed higher. The beast abruptly took off for the top of Storm’s End’s sole tower, completing a lazy circle as Argella’s spine prickled from her vantage point. The beast was by rights an ungodly mishmash of creatures, yet moved fluidly, sinuously. When it brought itself low, sailing back toward the courtyard, she could comprehend it in full. Ser Morrey had been wrong about its scales. No dark grey, they were instead a varnished silver. She caught herself; mulling over a monster’s appearance as it prepared to cook her in her gown would not do. “To me!” Hitching up her skirts, she ran across the raised wooden platform without bothering to take stock of Ser Haldrick behind her. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest as she made it to the corner and went down the stairs to the yard itself, where the dragon still hovered. Her men had not broken out of the spell the sight of it had put them under. “To me, to me! Inside the tow—”

“I have come to parley!” Yelled Rhaenys Targaryen. 

She turned around, incredulous. The queen was visible on her dragon’s back, hands gripping two spikes for leverage. Her long, loose hair was a strange silvery color that could have been plucked from the moon, and it flowed effortlessly as she slid off her mount like it was ice. She wore ringmail but no sword, the black belt dangling from her crimson tunic empty. 

“Your intentions were not clear,” Argella said. 

She inched closer toward her with raised palms. “Forgive me. It is difficult to wave a flag whilst maneuvering a dragon.”  

Ser Haldrick caught up to her and edged his body in front. “I am the queen,” she reminded him. “I need no aid in this matter.”

“Of course.”

The dragon’s tail thunked against the ground, as if it were a bored child that wanted to leave because the sweets were elsewhere. Her crossbowmen had their weapons trained on it, poised. If she gave the command, some of them would hit their mark. Whether they could pierce through the shining scales once the bolts sprung free was another matter, and another still was the issue of the creature’s proportions reducing them to needles in a giant’s side. She crossed her arms. “Parley.”

Queen Rhaenys beamed. “I believe you know of the terms my brother offered forth. That you would marry Orys Baratheon, your dowry starting with the lands east of the Gods Eye. Massey’s Hook would come too, and the woods and plains from the Blackwater south to the Wendwater and the Mander’s headwaters. King Aegon would be your liege lord, and you would be Lady of Storm’s End. The sea is beautiful here, like the night sky,” she added, unexpectedly. “You can wake up to it for the rest of your life.” 

“I will wake up to it for the rest of my life regardless, should you kill me in a day,” Argella said. Rhaenys’ smile must have been stuck to her face, since her words did not tear it off. Being the Lady of Storm’s End meant being the lady of a usurper, come to rip her crown off her head and her gown from her shoulders. The queen could not dull the truth any more than she could sweeten the circumstances. “Orys is pleasing to look upon, and well-muscled,” she said. “He is a man in the summer of his life.”

“Then perhaps you should have married Orys Baratheon instead of your brother.”

She took the slap gracefully. “There are worse fates.” 

“Did he kill my father himself?” 

Rhaenys sighed. “Yes. Regardless, this is your way out.”

Out of a fiery death. 

Argella pictured the slight woman riding her beast to the top of the tower again, this time to meet her. She would call upon the wind to send such a gale that it could sweep the dragon up inside it and spit it out somewhere far away, or the sea to rise up and absorb all the flame it had to hurl. The Storm Queen would stare the dragon queen in the face and bare her teeth. The Storm Queen would not flinch. 

“You may take my castle,” she said slowly. “But you will win only blood and bones and ashes.” 

“While you could remain living in your castle should you cease talk of ruin.”

Her eyes locked onto Rhaenys’, surer than ever. Lightning ran through her gaze, a blue lightning strong enough to pierce through scales and char the flesh beneath. 

“Ruin is what you have brought to the Durrandons already. May you choke on ours sevenfold.” 

Instead of moving to leap on her dragon and commence the assault, Rhaenys moved closer. “You will not bend the knee?” 

She was looking down on Rhaenys, at the bridge of her nose. “None of us will. Down to the last man, we will resist you.” 

Whip-fast, she darted up and laid a kiss on her cheek. Argella glowered as the woman stepped back, bouncing on her heels.

“Farewell then, Durrandon.” 

Later, as she mused, she realized she did not know if she had meant it as a goodbye to her or her House.

[sammy-jo1977]

Winning the Heart of the Devil

Okay! New story lol. All mistakes are mine.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x  Alex (my oc)

Warnings: Just a bit of sexy times. Not full on smut Bit of cursing

Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Daredevil or any related characters. 

And now... Here goes lol. Also Big Huge Shout out to @sllooney for the insights and help and all in all listening to me ramble ideas! You’re Awesome

Matt Murdock has a new neighbor. Sweet, funny, flirty as hell. Should he get involved? Can he stop himself? Does he want to? And most of all, can he keep the fact that he’s Daredevil a secret. Without her getting caught in the cross hairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Shit!" The curse and a clatter of boxes, and the objects they held, hit the side of the wall and floor. "No it's fine.....ugh.... Just dropped the boxes I was carrying........ No, I said I got it....... Look I'll call you later...... Yeah. Bye" The voice muffled through the walls. More noise. Stuff being dropped back into the boxes. Frustrated huffs. Whomever was out in the hallway was having a difficult day it seemed. Finally curiosity got the better of him. As he made it to his own door. More noises emitted from the hall. More curses. Someone's body connects with the wood of the door. And apparently sliding down it to sit on the floor. Matthew opened his own door. "Rough night?" A heavy sigh and a dull this as if she had lifted her head just briefly and let it fall back again. "You could say that. Sorry if I woke you." The quick inhale and muttered curse told him her eyes must've been closed before. And her heart rate did jump up in pace just a little. She seemed to give him a good once over look before pushing herself up from the floor. "It's fine. I was up anyway." The smirk on his lips had her heart rate up a bit more. "You just move in?" It took her a second to realize he had spoken again. She caught herself staring. The dark grey sweatpants he had on set low on his hips. And the tee shirt fit just right across his chest. She swallowed thickly and had to clear her throat before she could answer. "Yeah. Um. Yesterday. Last of the stuff today. Not my day really. Locked myself out..second day and I locked myself out." She scrubbed at her eyes a little and pinched the bridge of her nose. 'Great.. Rambling to the new, really hot neighbour... Smooth Alex' "Shit... I'm sorry. I tend to ramble when I'm tired." He chuckled and leaned more into the door frame crossing his arms across his chest. "So not just a rough night then?”

She scoffed and leaned back against the wall. "Nah, more like a week." She tried not to stare. Her mother had always taught her not to. But the man was built. Not overly so. And his hair was ruffled like he had run his hands through it. The way his head tilted sometimes reminded her of a dog she had as a kid. Cute. The scruff that covered his jaw. The red tinted glasses had slid a little ways down his nose but not enough to see what color his eyes were. Something which Alex found herself getting more curious about. Why the glasses for one. "So you managed to lock yourself out right? Do you have a couple bobby pins?" She was too busy staring at his lips when his tongue swept out to wet them to hear what he said. "Sorry what?" One eyebrow quirked up over the frame of his glasses and that Damn smirk was back. "Hair pins? Or wait. I probably have a couple paperclips inside. Do you wanna?" He gestured inside. Her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth. He caught scratch of her nail against the seam of her shorts. A couple nervous habits he guessed. "Sure. Um yeah. Thanks." Matt stepped back a little to leave room for her to go past. His apartment was dark save for a myriad of lights coming in through the living room window. "Wow... That's uh... Hell of a view you got." He chuckled. Pulling a couple paper clips from the stacks of files sitting on his coffee table. "Yeah. Had a few tell me it's pretty bad. Good thing though. Cheaper rent." She turned away from the window to say something else but stopped. It dawned on her then and she felt stupid for not noticing it sooner. 'Shit. He's blind. The glasses make sense now.' "I uh.. Shit. Sorry. I didn't realize..." He broke into a grin and ducked his head down as one hand went up to scratch at the nape of his neck. "It's okay. I mean I don't start out with ' Hey names Matt. Oh yeah I'm blind too.' It's nothing to worry about. I'm used to it." "Matt? Short for Matthew I take it." Her tone was different. Bit lower. Flirty. He chewed on his bottom lip a bit before nodding. Her body temp jumped. Heart rate too. "Alex." He nodded back towards the door. That smirk back on his lips. "Well Alex... Shall we see about getting you back into your apartment?" Back out in the hallway. He crouched down in front of her door. Balanced on the balls of his feet, the sweats he wore pulled tights against all the right places. Alex caught herself staring at his thighs and backside more than twice. The way the muscles in his arms and back moved. The way his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth. She watched as he bent the two paper clips. "Wait. So how does this work? A blind guy picking a lock." A smile pulled at his lips. "You'd be amazed at how much the other senses take over to fill in for one that's lost." His head dipped low close to the door. She quieted down to let him work and just watched as his hands worked. The way his tongue came out to wet his chapped lips. The subtle tilting of his head. A small, barely audible whine passed her lips without her really even noticing. The smirk followed by the low chuckle caught her attention. "You sure make it difficult to concentrate Alex." She leaned into the wall. Ankles crossed. Arms crossed over her chest. Thoughts that would make her mother kick her running rampant through her mind. "Hey. You're the one practically on his knees." The words left her mouth before she could even process the thought. And when her brain finally caught up to her mouth, her hand came up quick to cover her lips. Her face redder than the fire extinguisher down the hall. "Oh my god. I uh.. Wow okay." He had stopped messing with the lock when she had made the comment. Unable to stop himself from laughing. "On a roll tonight huh?" All she could do was groan in embarrassment and laugh a little in response. Matt shook his head and went back to working on getting her into her apartment. apartment. Finally with a few more subtle twists of the clips he was in. "There we are." She squealed happily which only made the smile on his face get brighter. "Oh god you're incredible! I could almost kiss you!" He bent down and picked up the box she had dropped earlier and held it out to her. "It's nothing. Anything I can do to keep a pretty girl from being stuck out in the cold." She ducked her face down, blushing. "How do you.." "And yeah. I know. It's the voice. And your laugh. That's how I know. Beautiful. But I think trouble too." She stepped closer to take the box from him. Her hands brushed across the top of his. "I know it's late. But would you maybe wanna come in? For a drink I mean. Least I can do for you, help me." He chuckled and that smirk that made her knees a little weak was back. "I mean unless it's too late. I'm sure you gotta get up early." He could hear the backpedaling tone. "I'd love to." The quick intake of a breath. Heart rate spiked. And maybe a little something else he noticed earlier when he was picking the lock. Arousal. She led him into the apartment and over to the barstool she had set up. "Similar setup to your place. Just without the roof access." After pulling two beers from the fridge and passing on to him, she moved to the other stool. Her blood ran hotter watching him. She only prayed he couldn't hear how badly her heart raced. But it was almost like he could. And knew it. He knew it was and was toying with her alittle. Course for whatever reason Alex almost wanted him to. "Do you always wear those?" Her question broke through the tension. "No. But yeah most of the time. Sometimes uh.. People get a little uncomfortable." She seemed to consider that comment for a moment. He took this moment to take more of her in. The lingering scent of possibly her body wash from he guessed earlier that morning. Subtle so it took a second to pin down. O tea and cucumber. When she ran her hand through her hair he caught the scent of green apple too. All of this mixed with her own body chemistry was getting to his head a little. "Can I ask what happened?" He nodded more to himself. "Accident when I was a kid." He caught the quiet gasp. He waited for a bit. She practically sat at the edge of the stool. She had more questions but didn't want to press the issue. "Can I..?" The question breathy, fell away before she could finish. Her heart still pounded in her chest. She was nervous. Her hands shook just slightly. "Hmm?" With his elbows propped up on the bar. He turned his head towards her. Almost looking at her over the frame of his glasses. He could hear how her breath shuddered from her mouth. He felt the temperature raise around her. Making the combination of scents that seemed uniquely her permeate the air. "Could I see?... Your eyes I mean." Matt sat his bottle gently on the counter. He took a deep breath, letting her scent invade him. His knee brushed hers bringing a gasp from her lips. Her body trembled. With the only way he could see, small lightning flashes of fire danced around her. He caught her hand that started to reach for him on his own. His thumb brushing the sensitive skin of her wrist as he brought it down to rest on his knee. With his other, he reached up and slid the glasses off. His eyes seemed to focus on a point just past her. The ember color shone in the lamp light. "Beautiful" He could hear the smile in her voice. "Been so long since I've seen my own reflection. Hard to remember the color." She remained quiet. All except her breath that echoed from the mouth of the beer bottle she picked back up. "Alex?" "Hmm?" Her response came out as more of a hum. She watched him as he moved slowly closer to her. "Do you have any idea how badly I want to kiss you?" The question didn't register in her brain for a second. All Alex knew was that she found herself sliding off the stool and stepping closer to him. His hand that had held hers and fallen to his knee had let go and was marking a path along her side. From where she stood and when he tipped his head up it was almost like he really could see her. His eyes held hers in a sort of unfocused trance. "Show me?" She didn't mean for it to come out like a question. But before she could come up with anything else to make it sound like she wasn't some cheesy cliche, he pulled her closer with that hand at the small of her back. His lips connected with hers. Not rushed by any means. His free hand had come up to rest at the nape of her neck, which he used to deepen the kiss when she stepped even closer. Her body almost burned pulled flush against his own. He took his time. Just small and slow pulls at her lips. The tip of his tongue traced against hers when she pulled away but not out of reach. Her fingers that rested on his thigh fisted in the fabric of his sweats. Her other hand in his chest. Her breath mingled with his in short huffs. Her heart thundered in her chest threatening to burst. But in the short few moments she tired of the teasing. He could tell in the change of her breath. The light nip of her teeth on his bottom lip. It was at the moment, everything stopped. A noise broke through lust in both their minds. He didn't pay attention enough to place the tune. Just knew it wasn't his. Her forehead against his. Her lips had stopped at the sound. A few muttered curses which caused him to chuckle. "Give me just a sec." He leaned in and kissed her gently. She leaned in and moaned into the kiss. Her phone stopped. Only to go off again. This time she just pulled her phone from her pocket, glanced at it for just a second and pulled away just enough to answer. "What?" The frustration made him chuckle. He moved his attention from her mouth down her jaw. "Seriously? No. Out of the question. Look I'm kinda busy." Down from her jaw following the column of her throat. His hand traced down her spine. Bringing her closer. His other grasped at her hip. Her voice was getting breathy. Strained to keep some composure as he continued. "Fuc.... Okay seriously if it's not life or death. Don't call for the next few hours okay. Bye." The phone clattered to the counter and her focus was back on him. Her fingers moved up into his hair. Her short nails scraped a little against his scalp. A moan from him that she could almost feel. Her chest rose and fell in heavy pants. Low whines left her mouth through her bitten bottom lip. He shifted her body with the hold he had on her. His knee dropped and pushed its way between her thighs. Her shorts rode up.  Her skin almost burned against his hand. The softness of her body is addicting. He pulled her leg up. The new position and added pressure brought a gasp and loud moan from her lips. Her thigh hitched up over his hip, using the stool leg as an anchor. All she wanted was to get her other leg around his hips and feel the effect she was having on him. Judging by the definite hard length against her thigh trapped between his, he was unlike anyone she had been with. The thought sent a steady fire burning through her veins. Fueled by his hand and mouth on her. He seemed to have found a spot on her neck that he favored. And decided to leave a mark. She clung to him. Her hips moving on their own against him. Or maybe his hands on her rocked her against him. Either way it was almost too much. "M... Matt I..." His arm went around her back. Holding like a vise, pinned to him. He had stopped kissing her too. His head tilted up, lips hovered just barely against her jaw. Brought so close to the edge and then for him to stop. Her whole body shook, even her breath as her pulse raced. Even his own breath came out in hot puffs against her jaw. His heart thundered in his own chest. "Fuc...Matt." She looked down at him. His eyes centered on her mouth. His own lips opened to say something but a chuckle came out instead of words. "Alex..." He swallowed, licked his lips. "Do you want this?.. We can stop now. I'll go." He held her. Both quiet except for their breathing. Her eyes took in everything she could of his face. The deepness of his eyes. The scruff along his jaw. The redness of his lips. " I.." Just as she started to answer, her phone went off blaringly loud in the thick silence. "God! Shit...What?" Between the curse and her reaching and answering her phone, he still held her. "Shit, sorry. Yeah I uh. Yeah sure. Give me a half hour?" Her head dropped to his shoulder. Her fingers still in his hair scratched at his scalp lightly as she set the phone back down. "Bad news?" She huffed out a laugh. "Yeah. I gotta go. That was my um boss. One of the girls didn't show so I gotta go in." He turned to kiss her neck lightly, humming a little against her skin causing her to shiver. "So.. To be continued?" He felt her head tip up as she brushed her lips against his throat. The small lick right before the kiss made him moan softly. His grip on her tightened. "Most definitely to be continued. But you have to let me go for now." Matt did so rather unwillingly. She took her time disentangling herself from him and stepped away. She headed off in the direction of her bedroom to change. "Where do you work? If you don't mind my asking." A bit of shuffling. A couple dull thuds. Rustling of fabric. "A bar. Figured I'm more of a night owl so I don't mind the late shifts. So dive bar down the block. Not the greatest joint but I guess it'll work." "Which one? I might know it." Her boots fell to the floor as she walked past her couch. Her jeans pulled tight as she sat down to put them on. Her shirt falling open to show the tank top she had slipped on. "Murray's. Only one that would hire on short notice. I've only been back in the city a few days." He turned his head towards her as she made her way back across the floor towards him. His hand met her hip as she stepped back into the space still open between his legs. His other hand went up into her hair that was now loose around her shoulders. The kiss was less urgent but still filled with heat. She moaned against his lips. One arm wrapped around the back of his neck. The other hand at his waist. Fisting in the fabric. Her phone went off again. But just briefly signally a text. It was enough to get her attention though. She pulled out of the kiss. Her head falling back while she stayed pressed against him. Giving him full opportunity to kiss his way down her throat. His hands finding their way up to the edge of her shirt. "You are making this very difficult Matthew." The words that left her mouth mixed with a groan and heavy breaths. He smirked against her skin. A low chuckle and he lifted his head just enough to speak. "This is not my fault. Seems I've become a little addicted to the noises you make." She stepped out of his arms, pulling him from the stool. "Well. Let me get through this night that'll be filled with a bunch of assholes and cigarette smoke first. Then maybe we can see what other noises you can get outta me. Or maybe what I can get outta you." Now she was teasing. Challenging him. And he was never one to let a challenge go unanswered. Once outside her door, he waited while she locked up. But when she turned back to him he pulled her to him again. Close enough he could've crashed his lips to hers again but he stopped. Just a breath away. "Keep this up Alex. You won't have a voice or be able to walk by the time I'm done. Now get outta here before I keep you for myself." He pressed a brief kiss. His words had spiked almost every reaction her body could've made. Her heart pounded. Chest heaved with every breath. And her scent alone made even his head swim. He pushed her back just a little to move her along. And only turned back to his own door when he heard her boots hit the sidewalk outside.

[zin-33]

OVERWATCH OC - NAOMI

Born into the Omnic Crisis in 2041, Naomi Casanova only knew a life of bloodshed and survival for most of her childhood years. Her father was Russian, while her mother was American. Naomi was born with an American accent over a Russian one, but her father loved her nonetheless. When the attacks in New York began, the streets became a total warzone. Naomi's mother was killed in the crossfire when she was six years old, but her father always told her that she had to move on if she wanted to survive. He taught her how to shoot a gun and defend herself because there would be other survivors in the city ruins that would want to rob them or try to hurt them, even with the omnics still invading New York. Naomi and her father survived for months until her father took a bullet from a scout Bastion. Her father told her to leave him, and gave her everything he had. Naomi ran, and ran, and ran. She was all alone, now.

She survived all by herself for two months until she was found by a group of military scouts when the invasion of New York was over. She didn't trust them, and ultimately aimed her gun at them. But once they provided proof of who they were, she stood down. They rescued her, and sent her somewhere safe. When the crisis ended in 2051, she was ten years old. She eventually found a foster family, but had trouble fitting in. She had trouble fitting in anywhere. She was a fighter, and didn't take anything from anybody. At 15, she got into a fight which resulted in her breaking another man's nose, and his arm. She didn't go home after that, she went back to the streets to do the only thing she knew how to do: survive. She stayed on the streets, and for the first couple days it was hard. There was no war going on, no omnics roaming around so she could scavenge a place for food without notice. Eventually she ran into a gang roaming around, and they decided to help her. She was taken in, fed, and took care of. But eventually, she picked up bad habits. She got hooked on adrenaline, among other things. The gang she was in always bought the stuff, they were all hooked on it. Eventually, they ran out of money to give. Their supplier came by, and demanded his money. They couldn't give it, so Naomi stepped up and explained the situation. She told him she needed time, but declined to give it to her, and had her whole gang executed in front of her. After this she lost her temper, and went for her gun. Before she could fire, she was shot in the chest by her now former supplier. She was left for dead, but was also smart. She waited until he left her to bleed out before she started to use what strength she still had to stand back up. She walked for about five minutes until she collapsed, but someone nearby saw her and took her to a hospital.

After missing for little over a year, her foster parents were relieved to hear she was alive, but were hurt by how she was found. After getting out of the hospital, her foster parents convinced her to get clean, and get clean she did. By 18 she was clean, but still had that fighting spirit she was given so long ago now. She did some thinking, and finally figured out where she belonged. She talked to her foster parents about it, and ultimately she enlisted in the military in 2059. She was fierce, top of her class, and ready to do whatever she had to do. With Talon running about, one of her first missions was to drop into a warzone with them and eliminate them. She accomplished this objective with little to no casualties, and thus her career continued. She participated in many missions until an accident when she was 25 years old in 2066. She lead a mission against Talon, the first mission she ever commanded, but it went wrong. Intel was sabotaged, it was a trap. Her entire squad was killed by an ambush, but Naomi wished she had suffered that same fate. A stray bullet went through the electrical panel behind her, causing it to explode. Naomi was charged with electricity, and thrown across the room simultaneously. She was left for dead once again, Talon didn't take prisoners on this mission. She was found the next day by search and rescue, but her heart was badly damaged during the explosion.

Surgeons couldn't do anything, and in her condition with no donor, transplant was not an option. When hope seemed lost, Overwatch stepped in. The issue was her heart was damaged and it was losing it's will to give enough electricity to beat. Winston and Mercy teamed up and managed to develop a small, self sustaining energy source to supply electricity to her heart. It was surgically implanted, and part of it was left exposed on her chest for easy access. The skin bonded around the outer edges, but the center was still there. It glowed a bright, blue glow from her upper chest. The machine did just what it was developed to do: supplied the right amount of energy to her heart.

She thanked them for what they did, but stated that she wished that they had just let her go. She lost everything she cared about twice over, and Angela decided to open up to her about how she continued forward. Naomi listened, and decided if Angela could move forward, so could she. She inquired about her new implant, and got curious about what it could really do. She approached Torbjorn, and asked if it would be possible to connect something to her implant. It was possible, but risky. Torbjorn developed armor for her, and connected it to her implant. It supplied power to it, but not enough to charge the overshields. Mercy wasn't happy at all to hear about this, but Naomi convinced her that it could work, she just needed more power. Torbjorn, Mercy, and Winston all three put their minds together, and started working on a new power core for her chest implant. Once Strike Commander Morrison learned about it, he called the four of them to his office. He halted production on the project, and spoke to Naomi. He stated that development couldn't continue, not without knowing what she planned to do with this technology. She explained that she planned to fight against Talon with it, but Morrison was still unconvinced. He said the only way he would allow production to continue was if she joined Overwatch, so her uses of this technology could be used without worry. Naomi accepted, leading Morrison to greenlight the project, allowing it to continue.

After the new power core was created, Mercy explained that she would have to do this with Naomi conscious. Naomi laid back on the table, as Mercy connected the interfacing cable to a small port on Naomi's chest implant. Mercy, after interfacing, ejected the power core from Naomi's implant, causing it to pop out of her chest. Naomi started feeling weird the moment it was ejected, the lightheadedness was immediate. Mercy removed the power core, and inserted the new one, pushing it into her chest. She went back to the interfacing terminal and watched as the implant inside her chest accepted the new power core, immediately starting to supply electricity to Naomi's heart again. Torbjorn suited her up in her armor and connected her chest implant to her armor again, and it successfully powered the armor's overshields. Morrison was impressed, and began her training as an Overwatch agent. Her training went well, and soon enough she was out on missions. She had a pistol as her weapon of choice, developed by Winston. Heavy pulse pistol, 15 rounds before the weapon needs to cooldown before firing again. Things were going well, all up until the explosion that lead to Reyes killing Antonio. Overwatch started losing public trust rapidly, and Naomi knew it. When everything in King's Row went down, Naomi knew it was a matter of time until Overwatch collapsed. She ended up confronting Overwatch Agent Essix about this, and Essix even agreed: Overwatch was going down faster than it could pick it's self up.

After Ana Amari was presumed dead, Naomi had already had enough. She was ready to leave. Everything was coming down, and she wasn't going to be there when it all came crashing down on their heads. She gathered her things, her armor, and started to leave. Morrison confronted her, even leveled with her. He knew everything was going wrong, but he was doing what he could to correct it. She took a lot convincing, but ultimately Morrison convinced her to stay. After Doomfist was defeated, Naomi saw to it herself that he made it to his cell. She asked him why he was doing all of this, causing all of this chaos. He said it was because conflict was how humanity evolved, but she wasn't buying it. She's seen first hand what conflict can do, having been fighting most of her life. Doomfist saw fighting spirit in her, and tried to convince her to change sides, that Overwatch wasn't right for her. He stated they were holding her back, and that her true fighting spirit was caged by rules and regulations, and would never be satisfied that way. His attempt proved futile, as Naomi declined his offer.

It wasn't long after this, and Overwatch HQ exploded. Naomi attended the funerals, and left Overwatch. By this time, she was 30 years old. She took everything she had, and started a life back in New York. It was weird for her, living there again without everything being a pile of rubble. She took a job there, got her own place, and that's when the news happened: Overwatch was officially disbanded. She wasn't surprised, she knew it was coming. It was only a matter of time until it did. She attended group meetings to help cope into civilian life, and continued to live in New York after everything went down. Lena would call every now and then to check up on her, make sure she was alright. After she got herself sorted out, she decided to seek out her former foster parents, reestablish contact with them. They were still alive, and this brought her some sense of peace. Seeing them again after all these years, it felt great. They were proud of everything she did for the world, proud of what she became. They even flew in from Chicago to see her in person, and they obviously couldn't help but point out the blue light emitting from underneath her shirt. She explained what happened, and what the machine does. They were glad she survived though, and stayed over for the weekend until they flew back out.

Over the next seven years, Naomi kept living her own life in New York. She had everything except a love life, she was too afraid to try one. With everything in her past, she was afraid that she would scare them off. She made friends, of course, but she was never willing to make that next step. She had been paying attention to the news, and saw that another omnic crisis had begun. It brought back memories for her, memories she didn't ever want to experience again. One night, she received a message from an old friend. By this time, she was 37 years old. She talked to her boss about it since her boss was someone she became good friends with, and obviously her boss knew who she was formerly. She wanted to stay and have a normal life, but her boss convinced her that her friends needed her again, and promised to keep quiet about it. She put in her resignation, and set out to reunite with Winston and whoever else answered his message. She was nervous to reunite with other former members of Overwatch, but she had been watching the news, too. She knew what he was planning to do, and she damn sure wasn't going to let the world go to hell like it when she was born, not if she could help it.

Additional information

Name: Naomi

Full name: Naomi Eva Casanova

E - Divert Power: Empower your Heavy Pulse Pistol with energy, making your next five shots deal more damage. Unused empowered shots will expire if the timer runs out.

Shift - Energy Surge: Grant yourself 50 shields immediately, reduces damage taken slightly, and increases your movement by a moderate amount for a short time.

Secondary fire - Aim: Aim down your weapon's sights for better accuracy and slightly more damage, but reduces rate of fire by a small amount.

Q - Energy Blast: Fire a deadly blast of energy from your hands into the direction you are facing, dealing devastating damage to anyone caught inside of it.

HP: 100

Shields: 100

Role: Damage

Weapon: Heavy Pulse Pistol

Clip size: 15

Images above are rendered models in blender combined with texture editing and photoshop, so I could give this one a look I genuinely liked. Naomi came out even better than I expected, after putting so much work into her!

[gaycrouton]

oh my goodddd i loved your underwear fic and would be so happy if you ever decided to continue it

Thank you so much!! For those that didn’t see it, a while back ago I posted this fic called Lingerie. Here are a few more random bonus takes!

Lingerie Bonus:

I

“Scully?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you wearing your coat?” he asked, finally broaching the question that’d been on his mind for the last two hours. He’d initially not taken much notice, but then he started picking up on the way she kept trying to roll up her sleeves and failing miserably because of the bulk. He’d thought she’d just forgotten until it became overwhelmingly obvious this was a purposeful suffering she was putting herself through. he knew his new partner had some quirks, hell so did he, but this just seemed uncomfortable.

“Um, I’m just a little cold,” she shrugged. That might have passed if it weren’t for the extreme binaries working in the basement in winter came with. In this realm of the building, the heat was always either broken, leaving them to freeze, or it was overcompensating, leading them to boil. This was a boiling day and he was uncomfortable even looking at her.

“Scully,” he repeated accusatorily, not letting the lie slide.

“I’m dressed innapropriately for work,” she replied, letting her eyes fall back down to the paperwork on her desk as if to signal her indifference on the subject.

Every fibre in his body wanted to make a suggestive joke, but he was too worried about her overheating in the name of modesty. “It’s just a paperwork day,” he offered. She didn’t say anything and he followed with a sympathetic, “It can’t be that bad.”

“I’m not wearing an undershirt,” she blurted as if it was a big reveal. 

It wasn’t.

“So?” he prompted, uncertain of what was causing the issue.

“I’m wearing a thin white blouse and a black bra,” she elaborated, still not making eye contact, but not making much progress on the paper she’d been staring at.

Oh.

He laughed sympathetically and did his very best not to imagine what that looked like. “No one ever comes down here but us,” he offered.

She finally looked up at him and she looked like she was carefully trying to choose her words.

Double oh.

“I hope I’ve never made you feel uncomfortable-” he started apologetically. Was she really suffering because she thought he’d just leer at her?

She cut him off immediately as if already knowing what he was thinking. “No, it’s not you, Mulder.”

They stared at each other for a moment before awkwardly laughing off the uncomfortable situation. “I just didn’t want you to think this is how I normally dress. I didn’t even realize how noticeable it was until I took off my coat at security.”

“You can dress however you want,” he offered. At her raised eyebrow he quickly added, “I mean, what’s important is your work. I’d never judge you for whatever you choose to, or not to, wear.” He was digging himself in a hole, but based off her smile, she wasn’t mad.

She stood up and started unbuttoning her coat. “Good, because then I’d have to start being vocal about my opinions on your ties.”

He let out a little laugh before looking down at his current tie with pigs on it. “Hey, what’s wrong with my ties?” he asked before lifting his eyes back up to her.

No wonder she’d been shy. The silk blouse was nearly see through and her black bra was undoubtably visible through it. He’d taken a big glimpse of her back as she hung up her coat, but only saw the two front cups for all of one millisecond before giving her privacy and darting his eyes down to his work.

“Aside from the fact they’re tacky?” she teased goodnaturedly. He could hear the smile in her voice, but didn’t want to look at her and accidentally look down and make her regret her decision.

He was able to keep his eyes away for the whole rest of the day and for that, when the coat was back on her shoulders in preparation for the walk out, she gave him a grateful smile and an appreciative “Thank you, Mulder.”

He was proud of himself for proving that he was a good partner and would never oogle her, but later that night his thoughts kept flashing to that hint of black lace and he remembered a millesecond’s glance can go a long way with a photographic memory.

II

“Mulder! I need your help!”

The bright flash of the crime scene techs make him blink his eyes and wipe a hand over his face. He’d been here once before, when he quite literally kicked her door down to rush to the bathroom and find her fighting with Tooms.

Sometimes he liked to imagine what it’d be like for them to be the average, everyday partners. Would she have ever invited him over for a cup of coffee? Or would he have never seen the inside of Scully’s domain if it wasn’t the scene of a crime?

Wordlessly, passively listening to the ongoing conversations around him that were saying nothing more than abduction, blood, missing, is that her partner? He had to see everything - he had to make sure no stone was left unturned.

He entered forbidden domain without hesitation. Of all the times he imagined being in Scully’s bedroom-

He shook the thought from his mind and glanced analytically around the room. It was as he’d imagined: clean, orderly, feminine, so very Scully. A closet in the corner was cracked open and he mindlessly went over to it. Realistically, he knew it was his memory of her telling him about Donnie Pfaster keeping her in the closet mixed with his desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, Duane Barry was stupid and this was all a misunderstanding and he’d find her there. But, as his heart knew, as soon as he opened the door there was nothing.

Well, nothing wasn’t accurate. This was the closet that she kept her clothes and hamper in, and upon opening it he was met with a strong waft of her scent and all the clothes he’d do anything to see filled again. 

His eye was caught by a cup of a white bra dangling off the laundry basket, caught on the rim by the bridge in the middle and a matching pair of white panties sitting on top of the other dirty clothes. He swallowed thickly and felt a crashing wave of guilt for feeling like he was invading her privacy.

He needed to find her.

III

Either she didn’t hear him knock on the adjoining door or he didn’t hear her tell him to wait. His brain was too overwhelmed in this moment to actually know which it was.

All he knew was that he just walked into see Scully on all fours with her ass in the air towards him as she looked under her bed for something. That in and of itself would have been enough to kill him, but she was currently in the middle of getting dressed and all she was wearing was her underwear. Which, he was eternally greatful for because he may have just died on the spot if not. 

Her back was pale and milky with an intermitten smattering of freckles that reminded him of starlight, but what stood out most in this moment was how round and perfect her-

“Mulder!” she screamed as she completely fell to the floor, as if trying to dissolve into it. Her hands quickly came to her front to cup her breasts as she whipped her head over her shoulder.

He only met her eyes for a moment before snapping them shut and running back to his room, slamming the door behind him. “Scully, I’m so sorry!”

IV

It would be a miracle if he didn’t crash, plain and simple. It was just impossible not to look. 

Scully’d fallen asleep in the passenger seat, a gift he’d forever be envious of, but as she slept she inadvertenly unbuttoned the top button she’d previously had buttoned which opened her blouse down to the front middle clasp of her bra. She was dead to the world, her lips parted slightly as her chest rose with each deep breath. It was just him alone in the car now with the sounds of the seventies and Scully’s sleeping body turned towards him.

Because of course she was.

What really didn’t help was the intermitten groans she’d release as she’d squirm in her seat in an attempt, he presumed, to get more comfortable. Oh, and to add to it all, her skirt was riding up as her hand just innocently rested at the hem. It was a sight that was as endearing as it was arousing.

She made a gasping sound and his eyes left the road to look at her face, which was now accented with a furrowed brow of sleepy concentration. Was she having a nightmare?

His own brows furrowed in concern as he glanced between the stretch of desolate highway and the passanger seat to make sure she was okay. From mile marker 66 to 78, she gasped three times, moaned twice, and readjusted one time that resulted in her brushing her breasts against his arm that was resting on the middle console, and now Mulder was cursing himself for not wearing better pants. 

“-der,” she whispered. He’d heard those three letters together enough to know it was the ending half of him name, but he’d never heard them in quite that inflection. Curiosity started to turn into hopeful understanding as he realized that Dana Scully, his beautiful partner, sounded like she was having a sex dream.

But there was no way-

He glanced at her colored cheeks as she sleepily nuzzled herself against the headrest. Against his better judgement, his eyes darted down to the valley of her breasts and stared appreciatively before she breathily whispered, “Fuck.”

Then, with the timing and grace of a bull in a china shop, he drove over a rumble strip and she woke up with a start. “Wha’s wrong?” she slurred sleepily but alarmed.

“Sorry,” he coughed, readjusting himself in his seat while praying she didn’t see his hard on. “I was looking at a billboard and drove over a rumble strip,” he explained, hoping she didn’t turn around and notice the large expanse of nothingness behind them.

Luckily she was too preoccupied with herself to notice anything else. She started pulling down her skirt and rebuttoning her shirt before squirming in her seat uncomfortably. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, uh-” she started, but stopped herself.

“Hm?” 

“Did I talk in my sleep at all?” she asked nervously.

With her behaviour confirming his hopeful suspicions, he bit back a smile. “No, not at all.”

Extra Bonus

She wasn’t sure if there was a sight more jarring but welcome to her than that of a sleeping Mulder in nothing but his boxers in her bed. It was a sight she’d imagined countless times over, though she’d never admit it, but she didn’t think it would take these circumstances for it to have to happen.

She’d seen his body in an assortment of ways and segments throughout their partnership, but she’d never gotten a chance to really appreciate it up close. It truly wasn’t fair that he lived on a diet of fast food and Kraft Mac and Cheese yet could simply run on occasion and have a body like this, but she was too stunned by it to be resentful. 

This is what he was hiding beneath his clothes every day. Mulder was always kind, gentle, and sweet towards her, but this was a body of elegant strength and power. He wore his masculinity well and she wasn’t saying that jsut because, in her efforts to document his recovery, she’d observed his nocturnal tumesence come and go in flares. 

It just amused her to no end he was sleeping like an angel on the very same spot she’d been in while imagining him with her hand between her legs. 

Though he’d been wearing a little less in her imagination.

[vannminner]

Where Magic Flows

-

A03

FanFiction

-

A Bridge Between: Part One (XIX)

- 

'A frozen heart worth mining…'

Honeymaren frowned. Her eyes lowered over Elsa's shoulder. "I don't understand…"

Refolding the note, Elsa stashed it beneath her top. "It's Anna." she sighed. "It's a code, a Arendellian harvesting rhyme. It's something only I could understand. Ryder and Kristoff must have returned to Arendelle and told her about the mages. She wants to make sure it's me before saying anything that might be intercepted."

Honeymaren nodded. "Smart thinking… what's the answer to prove it's you?"

She watched as Elsa's hand lifted to the air. A sudden burst of her powers erupted, and was carried up into the sky by Gale.

"It's ice... Anna knows if I can use my powers, we are safe."

The two watched Gale disappear into the darkening horizon.

"So… now what?" Honeymaren asked.

"Knowing the mages will return, I know I shouldn't leave Ahtohallan unprotected, but I don't want to leave my sister defenseless either. I know nothing about Russhave, nor their armies… I'm worried that Arendelle is not equipped for their numbers. But it could be another trap set by Cleyo, and you and I really can't afford another one."

Elsa's toes planted against the shore as she stared across the Dark Sea. The air was humid. Their vision grew more limited with the fallen sun. Honeymaren could see Elsa was battling between thoughts. Responsibility tugged her in two directions, and neither held any guarantees.

"Arendelle will be Cleyo's next target." Honeymaren stepped in closer at Elsa's side. "She has already been overpowered by you twice. She knows now that Ahtohallan cannot bestow powers, nor give her the answers she desired. She'll seek alliance with her country, and lead the war against the family of Arendelle."

Frowning, Elsa turned to her. "You sound certain of that?"

Honeymaren shrugged. She bit her lip. "It's hard to explain…"

"I'd like you to try."

Her brown eyes diverted. Honeymaren's gaze turned to her toes as she fidgeted with her hands. "We should head for Arendelle. I'll explain on the way."

Elsa studied her for a long moment. Her head tilted and she sighed. She was too tired, and too worried about her sister to question it. "You hide those amulets while I fetch Bruni. I'm sure he's missing the forest by now…"

Honeymaren waited until she could no longer hear Elsa's footsteps behind her. She spun, catching a glimpse of her swishing blonde hair as it disappeared beyond the walls of ice. Her heart was sinking fast. Honeymaren's throat was suddenly, painfully dry.

"Only Ahtohallan knows…" she whispered. "-yet now, so do I."

- 

 Quill tip to parchment, ink traveled quickly across the paper. Anna had the tiny snowflake carving clasped against her chest. Her hands flexed over its cold surface. Like a teether, Anna worshiped the sculpture as if it kept her closer to her sister.

"Go on now…" Anna folded the note, hurrying to lift her hand into the air.

Gale swooped down at once. She tugged the letter from Anna's hold and departed between the balcony doors. Sighing, Anna watched her go. Not until her final green leaf was lost to the distance, did she turn back around.

Once she had, Anna's brows lifted to her hairline. "Kristoff?" she whispered, disbelieving.

She was running across the room as fast as her feet would carry her. Warm hazel eyes watched her closely from the bed. Kristoff weakly straightened into the pillows. He let out a faint cough and sagged onto his arm.

"Anna? What's going on?"

She collapsed beside him. She lifted a hand to her husband's cheek before kissing his head. "You're awake-awake, right?" Anna nearly begged. "-not like before… you're really okay?"

Kristoff glanced down at his shirtless state. The feeling of silk against his bare legs suggested he wore nothing more than the bed sheet covering his body.

"What am I doing here?" His attention returned. His vision was foggy, but with Anna's face as close to his as it was; Kristoff could see her as clear as day.

Anna dropped her hand. "Tell me what you remember..."

Pale cheeks flushed to red. There was an ache in his head that hadn't dulled. "I was on my way to the forest. It was me and… Sven!" Kristoff panicked. "We were attacked. He was-"

"Sven's down in the stables..." Anna's hand settled over his chest. "He returned just before you did."

The air left Kristoff's lungs in a single breath. "Oh thank goodness…"

"But go on, what do you remember?"

Kristoff frowned, clenching his hands around the bedsheets. "It's fuzzy… we were attacked by people without faces. They did something to me… I don't remember… and Elsa. She was there; and Gale..." he shook his head. "How did I get back here?"

Anna drew closer to his hip. She placed the snowflake in her lap and took Kristoff's hands in hers. "There were mages in the forest… they must have captured you before attacking Elsa and Honeymaren. The rest of Northuldra had been sent to the North Mountain, but Elsa was there and helped you escape. It was Ryder who brought you back here. He told me everything he could."

Her thumb stroked his. The skin beneath Anna's eyes was dark and puffy. She looked as if she hadn't slept in a week, and Kristoff's heart ached at the sight. So much had changed in this face since he'd last seen it. Anna was in pain.

"How long has it been?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Sven returned two days ago now, and Ryder arrived a day after that, but… you wouldn't wake up. Every time you did, it never lasted long. I didn't know if you were poisoned or injured… Are you sure you feel alright?"

Kristoff stretched his neck to the side. "Thirsty mostly… and I have a bit of a headache, too. It feels like I was given a sedative of some kind."

Before he could stop her, Anna moved from the bed. She left the room, and when she returned; Kristoff's gaze stayed strictly on her.

Anna remained standing as she handed him a glass of water. "I've sent for the doctor. He'll want to see you again now that you're awake."

Kristoff quickly polished off the glass before handing it back to her. "Where are Elsa and Honeymaren?"

Her blue eyes dropped to the floor. "I don't know… with Gale back, I sent her a message. We need to wait for her to respond, but…"

"-but what?" Kristoff tried to move onto his knees, but Anna was suddenly beside him again. She placed a hand to his chest and directed Kristoff back into the pillows.

"There's more." Anna whispered.

He watched Anna take her bottom lip between her teeth. "More?"

Anna sighed. Her hands were back in his. "Arendelle has been invaded..."

"What?" he shouted and pulled from her hold.

Anna quickly caught his arm, holding him still. "Nothing has happened yet." she explained. "It's two countries- Russhave and Westleton. I've been advised not to engage until after they make their demands. We don't know enough about them yet, and it's not the right time."

"What, Anna! Arendelle can't sit back and wait to be invaded! It doesn't make any sense!"

She was shaking her head. "Their numbers far outweigh ours… If I force Arendelle to stand against them, the whole kingdom would collapse… I've called for a formal hearing with their leaders, but they appear to be sitting on it."

Seeing Anna's tired face further drain had Kristoff relaxing into the sheets. He dragged her with him until she was laying in the crook of his arm. "So… invaders, Sven, Elsa, Gale, and now me… you've had quite the week, haven't you?"

Tearfully, Anna laughed. "Honey, I've had quite the life."

"Touche." Kristoff scoffed.

They waited a long moment in silence. Kristoff's fingers combed through her loose hair. He felt the tension draining from Anna's shoulders and he held her tighter.

"We will figure this out." Kristoff promised. "This is Arendelle, and it's our home. No one can come in and take it from us."

Anna rotated to look at him, her chin dragging along Kristoff's chest. "-and Elsa's… Arendelle is Elsa's home, too. But I can't do anything without my other half of the bridge. I'm afraid for her, and for Arendelle."

Kristoff softly hummed. His hand replaced against her hip. "You know historically speaking, neither of you are in the same place at the same time, but somehow you still manage to work together to fix the problem at hand. For all we know, Elsa is already doing her part. You know she'd stop at nothing to make this right."

Anna turned from him. Her lips curled downwards. "I do know that, and it's what has me so afraid. No matter the issue, no matter the consequences; my sister will sacrifice her own life to solve the world's problems."

"Funny," Kristoff teased. "That reminds me of someone else I know…"

"Who?" she questioned mindlessly.

His finger touched to her cheek. Kristoff turned Anna's head until their eyes met. "You, Anna… I'm reminded of you."

-

-

Elsa,

Arendelle has been invaded. It was mercury that poisoned the fjord. I know there are problems in the forest, but I need you here with me.

Love,

Anna

-

Elsa could feel the note tucked against the bare skin of her chest. Heading to Arendelle had been the right course of action. She missed her sister, and she needed to make sure she was safe. But how had Honeymaren known? Why did she speak as if she was certain? Those thoughts had plagued Elsa the most. Since leaving Ahtohallan, she could think of nothing else.

"You've been awfully quiet…"

Elsa looked to her travel partner. As Honeymaren turned, the full moon caught against the sides of her face. Her brown eyes scanned Elsa cautiously, and her arms wrapped tight around themselves.

"I'm sorry." she frowned.

"It's okay, it's just- usually you're the one trying to get me to open up…"

Honeymaren shrugged. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. Her lips came back together and she sighed.

It was late. By tell of the night sky, it was sometime after eleven. The two had crossed the Dark Sea, and now navigated the river by moonlight. They'd said next to nothing since leaving Ahtohallan. Yet, Honeymaren looked as if she wanted to. She'd turn to Elsa, blink, and then quickly look away. Even Bruni was curious. From his station on her shoulder, he'd eye Elsa and tilt his head. She thought perhaps he was ushering her into saying something nice.

Before she could scold him, Bruni lept down from Elsa's arm. He zigged and zagged at her feet for a moment before scurrying off into the woods.

"Do you, um, want to try and explain what happened earlier?" Elsa wrung her hands at her waist.

"Not really…" Honeymaren divulged.

"Why not?"

She groaned. Honeymaren ran a hand through her hair and came to a swift halt. Elsa was forced to follow. She stood in front of her with her brows held low in curiosity.

"I don't want to say it, or tell you anything; because I don't want you to get upset. Or run away, or whatever else you decide to do when you're uncomfortable!"

Honeymaren wouldn't look at her, and Elsa took a cautious step back. "Why would I do that?"

Stifling a breath, Honeymaren's eyes pulled up from her feet. "-because… I know… I know what gift Ahtohallan has given me."

She'd said it so fast, Elsa nearly hadn't caught it. Her head shook, and her face lowered to frown. "I thought we knew. I thought- it's different from what I've seen?"

"No…" she sang awkwardly. "-but it's different than you might think it is."

Back straightening, Elsa's chin tilted and her teeth grit. "Well, I don't think I understand it much at all, so why don't you explain it to me."

Her tone was sharp; not nearly as soft as Honeymaren was used to. Elsa's walls were coming up. She was pulling away and getting ready to run.

"Did you understand what Cleyo meant when she called me your totem?" Honeymaren asked.

"You were feeding my magic… making me stronger, no?"

"Kinda…" Honeymaren's fingers danced at her waist. "Can we sit?"

Her blue eyes widened. Elsa took another step back. "You're making me nervous…"

"I know, I know… I don't mean to, but here- just sit."

She directed Elsa over to the ledge of the cliff. Honeymaren sat with her legs dangling over the side. Elsa hesitated. She appeared skeptical, but then decidedly dropped a safe distance away from her.

"Go on…" her voice nearly pleaded.

Honeymaren caught her eyes before she began. "Ahtohallan didn't give me powers… not like it did for you and Cleyo. I can't do magic, or shield myself from it… only yours… as it stands, Ahtohallan's gift was giving me to you."

A thick mask of confusion layered over Elsa's face. "What? I-I don't understand..."

Without asking permission, Honeymaren took Elsa's hand in her own. "What Ahtohallan gave to me, it can't be used by anyone else. It's like being your totem, but different… it's a connection between a spirit and the human world. You can use me to draw wisdom and power like you do at Ahtohallan. It's like having an empath."

"-but how do you know this? No one ever said…"

Honeymaren's head shook. "No one had to. I could understand Ahtohallan when you held my hand. It was as if I lived in each second of every memory we'd seen."

Elsa slowly pulled her hand away. "You know everything?"

"No…" she bit her lip. "-only what was shown to us. I could feel what you felt. Even here, now; I felt your fear, your confusion… I don't know why, but in those memories- it felt like being there. Knowing everyone and everything, and understanding their decisions."

"That's how you knew Cleyo would go to Arendelle?"

Honeymaren nodded. "Her anger was… powerful. She wants to take from you what she could never have herself."

Elsa held her breath. "My family."

Honeymaren nodded again. "-but there's more… this is more complicated than that."

However, Elsa wasn't prepared for more. She didn't want to hear complicated. She stood up quickly and started back down the river.

Yet, Honeymaren followed after her. She came to walk at her side. Elsa had wrapped her hands around her arms and was soothing herself in long leisurely strokes.

"I understand this might be strange for you, or upsetting, even… I'm not sure I can process it myself yet-"

"Process?" Elsa nearly snorted. Her head tilted to each side. "You just informed me that you can read all of my emotions, Honeymaren! I can't even do that on my own! Upset doesn't begin to cover how I'm feeling, but you should know that… shouldn't you?"

Honeymaren momentarially forgot how to walk. She stumbled and raced to catch up. "I know, but Elsa, listen!"

She grabbed her arm, but Elsa quickly pulled away. Eyes wide and staring at her, Honeymaren couldn't help but laugh. She laughed until Elsa stopped walking away from her.

Angered, she turned back. Her hands planted over her hips. "What's so funny? What about this could possibly be funny?" Elsa demanded.

"You!" Honeymaren managed between laughs. "You're funny! I've never seen you like this before!"

"And how am I, exactly? Angry? Scared? What is so funny about that?"

Silencing herself with a deep breath, Honeymaren slowly approached. "No, it's… you're defiant… childish, I think."

"Are you really calling me childish right now?" Her blue eyes flashed with rage.

"No, yes- I don't know!" Honeymaren continued until she was standing in front of her. "It's… different. I haven't seen this side of you. It's refreshing, and I like it, honestly. It makes you… human. I didn't mean it in a bad way!"

"There's a good way to be called childish?" Elsa's arms folded.

"No, but- forget about that! Forget I said it. Elsa, we have to talk about this!" she forced. "I know you're scared and angry, but I'm not thrilled about it either! I don't want to be some sort of vessel for you magic. I didn't ask for this. I was happy being me!"

Frowning, Elsa turned to her feet. Her hands clasped together against her stomach. "I know… I'm, I'm sorry. I know this is not easy for you either… I just- I can't process what this means, or why it happened! A totem… it makes no sense… I'm already the bridge between spirits and humans."

"Well, the way I see it- a bridge is grounded to the earth by pillars; a totem, if you will. Something connects them to the ground so they don't get lost to the other side. You said it yourself, Ahtohallan decides on a whim when it should intervene. Your mother defended your father. I defended you, and Cleyo was left defenseless… There's no rhyme nor reason for it, but Ahtohallan only takes what was already there inside of us. Born from love, you were given light. I respected and trusted you, like a totem, long before I was made into one…

"I know it's scary and strange that I might understand emotions you haven't figured out yourself, but imagine what I can teach you; show you… it's not a threat, Elsa! It's just expanding on what you already are."

Her attention rose to Honeymaren slowly. Elsa's temperature steadily increased. "We should keep going." she requested.

Honeymaren gave her a short nod. "Of course…"

She knew Elsa had been pushed far enough. She was overwhelmed. They both were. There was so much left to say, but there was time for that still. Instead, Honeymaren allowed Elsa to take the lead. They continued down the river with the full moon directly above their heads. The entire forest awashed in a wave of white. Reminenets from Gale's tirade littered the shore. The water surged like it did after a day of rain. It was quiet, though, and seemingly peaceful. Both women felt the blissful night closing in around them.

For a long while, she had kept her distance from Elsa. Honeymarens eye's held at her back. They wandered that way in silence; neither saying anything until Elsa suddenly laughed.

"I can't believe you called me childish..." Her head turned over her shoulder, and she rolled her eyes.

Elsa's feet had slowed, allowing Honeymaren to catch up. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

She hummed and faced forward. "No more ridiculous than you." Elsa whispered as they walked side by side.

"Well, I can't believe you said you loved me…"

Wide blue eyes shot to Honeymaren before Elsa's expression turned coy. "You said it first, you know?"

"I did." Honeymaren's lips pursed and she nodded. "I just never meant for you to feel like you needed to say it back."

"I said it because I meant it… I felt it, but you should know that now, hmm?"

Elsa didn't appear as fearful as Honeymaren would have guessed. "I'm not sure I understood what was happening until after Ahtohallan brought back the past…" she explained.

"So, you're saying you don't believe me?" Elsa arched her brow.

"No, no I was saying- I believed you without needing to try. I know you wouldn't have said it if you hadn't meant it. That's not like you at all." Honeymaren shrugged.

She turned her attention back to the walk. Elsa contemplated her silently. Her eyes traced the side of Honeymaren's face.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

Honeymaren's attention held straight. "I'm not sure I'm thinking anything at the moment..."

"Liar…" Elsa jested. "You're frowning, and you won't look at me!"

Facing her briefly, Honeymaren smirked. "I wasn't aware you wanted me to. I thought you might still be mad."

"Mad?" she reeled back. "Why would I be mad at you?"

"Oh, I don't know… for leaving Northuldra, taking that hit from your powers, attacking Cleyo, or gaining these strange abilities neither of us understand…"

Elsa fought to giggle. Her lips curled upward. "Only three of the four were your fault… well actually, that's not entirely true… They're all your fault, but no… I'm not mad at you, Honeymaren."

"A few minutes ago you were."

Bumping against her lightly, Elsa rolled her eyes. "I wasn't mad. I was afraid! There's a difference between the two. But, I'm not afraid anymore… not about that anyway."

"Really?" Honeymaren's feet came to a halt.

Elsa stopped beside her and shook her head. "No… not when there are plenty of other concerns to be worried about. Being upset about that seems silly. I can't change it and neither can you. Besides, if I'm being honest, I don't think it affects us all that much."

Honeymaren's brows lifted. "What makes you say that?"

Elsa shrugged. She averted her gaze. "Before yesterday, I still would have said being your friend has made me stronger. There's a good chance you could read my emotions better than I could, too. Sure there are a few grey areas in there, but now that I've thought about it; not much has changed..."

Skeptically, she turned her head. Honeymaren's eyes lowered and her lips drew to the side.

"You don't believe me?" Elsa asked. "-that I'm telling you the truth?"

"No, I believe you… I'm just surprised, is all."

"Is that all?" Elsa held out her hand.

Honeymaren's attention flickered between Elsa and her hand. Very slowly she reached out. Her fingers touched her palm, and then she flattened them at the center. Elsa took their hands against her hip. She smiled briefly before Honeymaren by their hold.

The two continued South toward Arendelle; both content in their short moment of peace.

 -

Cheers,

M.