#COI au sans

[maxbruiser]

I just think they would get along well

[sanjoongie]

Dual Courtship: Heart in your throat

A Sci-Fi Medley Chapter~

The Cast~

Yeosang, Jongho- Predators Yunho, San, Mingi- Furyans Hongjoong, Wooyoung- Alien (Hunter status) Seonghwa- Alien (Queen status) Ot8 x captain/pilot! Reader

ღPairing: Choi Jongho x Reader (f) x Kang Yeosang ღGenre/Au/Trope: sci fi au, aliens au, predator au, riddick au, established relationship trope, poly trope ღWord Count: 3,034 ღWarnings: Warnings: cnc(consensual non-consent), predator/prey play (no pun intended ><), double penetration (two cocks one puss), fingering (f receiving), slight mxm, marking (blood, claws digging into flesh), fear kink, sub! Reader, doms! Jongho and Yeosang, penetrative sex with no protection, aftercare (for both the sex and the wounds), creampie ღRated: 18+ MDNI, smut with no plot ღSynopsis: the predators version of flirting/foreplay with their beloved captain is to hunt her and fuck her. This is what precedes their decision ;) ღDedication: @downtoamagicalland & @mejuii who will always read the crazy shit that comes from my head, the perfect beta readers ღA/N: I blame haru @stardragongalaxy once again for reviving this in my head. If you only knew the dirty sex scenes that have been planned. Please note: this scene takes place before Seonghwa lays his eggs

You felt as if you were being followed all day. It was a weird feeling to be nursing while you were on a ship, which had limited suspects, and on yours, which you knew every screw and plate of metal. But that didn’t take away from the fact that you were alone in the cockpit right now, and the darkness of space was not comforting as it usually was.

“San?” You called out cautiously. 

San did enjoy sneaking into the cockpit with you when everyone else was sleeping. He would approach with a sly and coy smile and always managed to get what he wanted. Which usually contained either fucking your mouth while he was in the captain’s seat or fucking you while you were in the seat. 

When nothing but silence met you, you attempted to shrug off the feeling of being watched. 

You checked the star map for the umpteenth time but your course was still correct. You were flying outside the regular shipping routes, looking to stay below any other aliens' radar. You checked the local radars for any threat of another ship or meteor shower but it showed complete peace out in nearby space. So you could not credit your feeling of impending danger on that either. 

Your instincts usually led you to the right conclusion so you were really confusing yourself. The ship creaked and a shiver ran straight down your spine. The ship creaked all the time but this sounded like stress from added weight in the vents. You were familiar with this sound because of how much Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Wooyoung frequented said vents. 

You were about to mutter under your breath about living with aliens when you felt a presence behind you. You whirled around in your chair but there was nothing behind you but you swore you had felt a rush of air pass you. 

“Ridiculous,” You cursed and got up from your seat after ensuring the ship was on autopilot. You were going to move to the mess hall and make yourself something warm to sip on. 

However, while walking along the ship that you had begun to see as home with your found alien family, you didn’t feel any better. You swore you could hear brief susurrations above you, like someone was walking along the high upper railings when you moved through the cargo bay but the stray ropes and electric wires simply swayed with a small bump of the dual engines adjusting and maintaining balance. 

Why were you getting so creeped out? Was it because you were so used to having one of the aliens that lived here near you at all times? Perhaps you should wake up Mingi to play cards with and help him win a hand finally…

You whipped around, swearing you felt a breath of air on your neck and this time you did seem to catch a foot on a pipe above before it disappeared. 

Suddenly everything clicked. There had been a conversation a while ago, with all the races seated in various positions scattered before you in the mess hall. No aliens on this ship intended to harm you in any way, but they were aliens, and most of them were natural hunters. They needed to keep their instincts and talents sharpened and honed, and that included being approved to ‘hunt’ you. The perimeters included ‘struggling’ and ‘denying’ that you agreed to any of this. It thrilled the aliens and turned on a few, to seemingly take you while you were attempting to get away. You agreed with them, on all levels. 

You straightened your shoulders and finished making your drink in the kitchen part of the mess hall. You gripped the cup and made your way back through the mess hall and then through the cargo bay. Once you were back in the smaller confines of the hallway, however, the kid gloves were off.

Yeosang, in his full Predator gear, dropped down in front of you, cloaking device clearly powered down already. Your instincts had you drawing your gun, treating this as if the Predator was a true threat. However, what you did not call for was that the Predators were hunting you as a pair. Jongho put a firm hand over yours, halting your gun from even being removed from your holster. You felt this rather than saw it because Jongho had not disabled his cloaking device.

“Got you,” Yeosang whispered into your ear. As your head turned, you watched him remove his helmet completely, drawn in by the slow reveal of the beautiful Predator. 

“Let go of the gun,” Jongho ordered.

You allowed him to lead your hand away from your gun and pull your arm taunt behind your back, almost to the point of over extending it. Jongho didn’t want to break the mold quite yet, it seemed.

You had eyes only for Yeosang at this moment. You couldn't help yourself. The way his arm muscles bulged as he tucked his helmet under his arm was making your heart spike in rate. 

“Are you more scared or turned on, little mouse?” Jongho asked, lips whispering along your trapezius, your neck muscles. 

Yeosang laughed but it was definitely mocking. “Check how much of a mess her underwear is because of how scared she was.”

Jongho, after appearing visible to you finally, stuffed his hands down your pants mercilessly and you moaned when two fingers swiped along your inner folds. “She’s soaking wet,” Jongho announced.

Yeosang cuffed your chin, encouraging you to look up at him. “You’re a fun prey to stalk, moonlight.”

“You sensed us almost immediately,” Jongho said with a sense of pride. “Your instincts are worthy of a non-Predator mate.”

You whimpered as Jongho pushed his two fingers into you without further ado. Your pussy adapted immediately to the intrusion, genes long since changed to taking large appendages within your cunt from Seonghwa’s saliva absorbed through kisses. 

Yeosang didn’t let you go, instead he confidently smirked before he brought his lips to yours. His lips ate up yours but whimpers continued to slip from your lips as Jongho finger-fucked you slowly. 

“Like being taken advantage of in the middle of the hallway, don’t you, little mouse?” Jongho whispered to you seductively. 

Your muffled noises of disagreement could be heard but that didn’t stop Yeosang from drifting his hand from cupping your head to running a claw along your collarbone. “Your quickening pulse is alluring, moonlight,” he said upon releasing your lips finally.

“Please--the ship!” Your protests sounded weak even to your ears, but that could have been because you felt very weak between the two Predators right now.

Yeosang lifted an eyebrow up at your statement. Jongho added a thumb to strum your clit while his fingers moved in and out of you and you were like putty in his arms. That caused Yeosang to frown. “Stop hogging the captain,” Yeosang growled. 

Jongho chuckled. “Come and take her, then, brother.” The two often referred to each other as brothers-in-arms, shortened to brother when the timing called for it. The camaraderie the two had felt for each other while they had hunted you was clearly fading now.

Yeosang physically pulled you from Jongho’s grasp, pressing your back up against the cool metal of the ship. You gasped as your exposed shoulders in your tank top experienced the temperature play. Yeosang dived in to capture your lips once again, eating up your moans as he grinded into your now sensitive core, covered only by the thin material of your pants and underwear. “Why have fingers when you can have me?” Yeosang tempted you. 

Jongho released another chuckle, folding his arms over his armored chest. His stance was wide, his thigh muscles adjusting under the fishnets covering them. “Why don’t we test just how well developed her genes are now? The scanner showed she’s changed quite a lot.”

“Wha--” You paused to swallow and brought moisture back to your mouth. “What exactly does that entail?”

Yeosang appeared intrigued as he stared back at Jongho. “Do you want us both to be stuffed within her sweet cunt?”

You cursed under your breath, not prepared for that at all. “What? Excuse me?”

“Come on, little mouse, you can take the both of us at the same time, right?” Jongho crooned convincingly.

You pressed your lips together. “I’ve never tried…but I want to.”

“Me first,” Yeosang announced. He licked and sucked your neck as he grinded into you some more, until he couldn't take your sweet moans any longer. He easily ripped your pants and underwear off, your tank top being ripped down the middle, to make you completely available for him. He pushed down his own armored loincloth and his girthy cock sprung free. He did his best to rub himself against your wet folds but once the tip of his cock flirted with your eager hole, he pushed right in.

“I’ll never get enough of this sweet cunt,” Yeosang grunted, already quickly moving in and out of you. 

One of your legs curled around his waist instinctively, hips bucking to meet his thrusts. “You’re driving me wild, Moonlight,” Yeosang snarled.

Jongho patiently stood by as Yeosang had his fill but put a firm hand on Yeosang’s shoulder to stop him before he could release his seed inside of you. “Brother, it is time.” He dropped his loincloth to the floor, stepping neatly out of the confines.

Yeosang reluctantly pulled out of you and you spared a brain cell to wonder if they had already made plans for this before Yeosang took a stance behind you and Jongho in front of you now. “Hello again, little mouse.”

“Jongho,” You couldn't help but pout at the loss of Yeosang inside of you.

“Did Yeosang stretch you out enough for me?” Now Jongho was smirking. 

“How about you focus less on my dick and more on your own,” Yeosang suggested.

Jongho placed his taloned hands around your waist and helped you hop up so that you could wrap your legs around his waist. Your slippery cunt rubbed up against his straining cock. The both of you groaned at the feeling but now was not the time to indulge. You had already been stretched out by Jongho’s fingers and Yeosang’s cock, but you still enjoyed the delicious stretch it was to take Jongho’s cock inside of you. You made pleased noises and Jongho’s gummy smile came out to play. “You always make the best noises for me, little mouse.”

Once Jongho was fully seated inside of you, Yeosang kissed your shoulder. “Get ready, moonlight.”

Jongho kissed you in distraction, sucking on your lower lip, even so much as pulling it gently with his teeth and growling. Yeosang angled his cock from behind you, prodding your hole and you moaned into Jongho’s mouth when Yeosang slowly entered you. 

“Just a little bit more, you can do it,” Yeosang encouraged. He didn’t sound any better, his voice tight and high.

When the two of them were deep inside of you, everyone was breathing heavily. Your mind was simply white noise, adjusting and simply drinking in the feeling of both of the Predator’s cocks within your cunt. 

“Ready for some movement, little mouse?” Jongho asked, your head having fallen on his shoulder and he kissed the crown of your head.

“Please,” you whimpered and then there were truly no thoughts in your head.

Jongho moved slowly whereas Yeosang’s thrusts were quick. They moved in the opposite rhythm of each other, somehow in sync with each other. You could hear the pathetic mewls leaving your mouth but you found that you couldn't care less about how you sounded. The two cocks fucking you felt so good, you were almost sure you were being spoiled, and one cock might not do moving forward.

“So good,” You whimpered, causing both Predator’s to chuckle a chuckle only men have when a woman is weak for them. “Wanna come. Will you come inside of me? Both of you?”

“Mark her first, then we can come inside of her,” Yeosang commanded.

Jongho stared at you adoringly. “Little mouse, these are badges of honor. We respect your instincts, courage and most importantly, your ability to bring all our races together. It will hurt for a bit and we will have to be gentle with you while they heal, but I hope you wear them with pride, my mate.”

You nodded, bracing for the pain of being marked. Yeosang cupped one side of your waist, Jongho the other, as their opposite hands prepared to cut you with their talons. Jongho’s carefully sliced your breast, the long claw marks moving from your side and under your boob. Yeosang claw marks drew up and around your shoulder, deep only enough for a scar but not as deep to cause any permanent harm. You winced and cried out but the pain was soon washed away as Yeosang bucked up into your heat.

“It’ll be okay, little mouse,” Jongho assured you, holding still while Yeosang set his pace.

“It hurts,” You whimpered but Yeosang kissed up your neck as a distraction this time. 

Jongho was soon moving inside of you and you moaned in bliss. Yeosang was playing with your pussy, pulling out completely and then pushing back in, making your pussy accommodate both girths over and over again. Jongho was the constant inside of you, thrusts remaining deep inside but due to this, he was closer to coming first. 

“Fuck,” Jongho cursed, biting down on his lip.

Yeosang laughed in derision. “Gonna come already, Jongho?”

“Shut up,” Jongho snapped, eyes closed as he attempted to pace himself.

“Is it because our captain’s tight little heat is so good or do you enjoy my cock sliding along yours inside of her?” Yeosang teased his fellow Predator.

“Shut the hell up, Yeosang, and fuck our captain’s pretty pussy,” Jongho snarled.

You had slipped so deep into your headspace, being stretched so deliciously with two cocks, that their conversation was simply passing over your head. You groaned lowly, some spit dripping from the corner of your mouth, head lolling slightly like a ragdoll. 

Yeosang smirked and continued to play with you and seemingly Jongho as well. His dick stayed inside you, thrusts pushing against Jongho’s cock and thus your g-spot. Jongho and you were a moaning wreck soon enough, Jongho’s milky cum mingling with your own as your toes curled and your back arched. Yeosang came next, placing his hands on your ass and spreading your cheeks. You could feel all their cum dripping down their cocks and out of your hole, leaving a puddle on the ship’s floor.

"Am I interrupting?" A voice cut through your orgasm-induced brain.

"You are," Jongho murmured.

Yunho said dryly, "Well, perhaps you would consider having your rituals not in the middle of the hallway." He walked around you three, arms behind his back. 

“Didn’t anyone ever warn you it’s not a good idea to pass by a Predator when their back is turned to you,” Yeosang snarled.

“You’re not threatened by my presence…are you?” Yunho couldn't help but poke.

Slowly, both Predators adjusted until Jongho had you in his arms, careful of both your shoulder and your breast. His large arms were more than ample coverage to hide your nakedness, at least for your sake. Yeosang’s stance was one that was battle ready. You opened your mouth to halt Yeosang but Yunho was already on top of it.

“I am jesting,” Yunho laughed, “I am no threat. I will simply pilot the ship until our captain has recovered.”

Yunho walked down the hallway, taking the same path that you had been working on with your drink, long since dropped and spilled. 

Yeosang turned to Jongho, with a quizzical look on his face. “That’s not like a Furyan to turn down a fight--or a fuck.”

Jongho ran a finger down your cheek tenderly, “I think our captain has changed us all, Brother.”

The two Predators took you to their quarters, quickly ripping their bedding from their bunks and gathering it together so that all three of you could rest together. A wet cloth was given to you to wipe away any access cum but they both supervised to make sure you did not wipe more than necessary to be clean. 

While Yeosang discarded his armor, Jongho pulled a bottle that looked to be self-made. “This is a remedy we make on our homeworld,” Jongho explained, motioning for you to lean over so that he may dress your shoulder wound first. “First, you make the bottle from a beloved hound's skin and then the tree that sacrificed its sap for you. You sew the bark and skin together. The mixture is the sap of a tree known for both its healing properties and for its sticky factor. We introduce some nanos that also speed the healing. It’s only made for brief wounds, or marks we would like to keep from a battle.” 

You watched for a moment, enamored with the blue-green glowing fluid as Jongho spilled some onto his finger to apply to the claw marks. Jongho pursed his lips sympathetically when you winced but he promised you would feel better come morning. 

Yeosang had removed his armor and was about to take off some of the netting when you halted him. “Keep that on?” You asked shyly.

Yeosang smirked, ducking his head and allowing his hair to fall in his face. “Anything for you, Moonlight.”

Once Jongho had removed his armor as well, you laid on your back on the makeshift bed, Jongho and Yeosang turned on their sides to gaze at you. You were already slumbering, moving to a deep sleep to heal your body.

“She did well today,” Jongho said, pride in his voice once again.

“She took her marks and our cocks like a proper mate should,” Yeosang agreed. “You still never answered my question, however, brother.”

Jongho sighed loudly but ultimately admitted what Yeosang already knew to be true. “I enjoyed the slip of your cock against mine.”

“Good,” was all that Yeosang said and promptly fell asleep.

“You bastard,” Jongho cursed but followed suit. 

All Posts | A Manic Queen

Taglist: @hijirikaww @flurrys-creativity @mingsolo @starlitmark @k-pop-ology @pyeonghongrie

[lalunanymph]

Riding on the nanami brainrot!!!! dawn as a bewitched!au enthusiast, it had me thinking about retired army general!nanami and a geisha!reader 🫶 what if after leaving the gojo clan, he settled down and became reader’s patron and they lived happily ever after 🥰

- 🍎

i couldnt get this idea out of my mind and had to write something for it grrr thank you sm apple nonnie ily and your beautiful brain

tw for love making and suggestive themes

The ex-general of the great Gojo clan should be a man who was intimidated by many.

For truly, his countenance, stoic mien, and even the shock of fair hair on his head (so unnaturally light and a contrast to every common passerby on the street) would’ve marked him as a man who would not be into foolhardy pursuits.

But, in your months of living under his roof, you had come to find that General Nanami Kento was indeed an incredibly kind man.

“What are you doing?” 

Kento had awoken from his slumber, padding into the kitchen to find you standing by the stove, hair still in a disarray. A light scruff shadowed his chin, and his face was pinched with fatigue.

In answer, you tightened your silk sash, a teasing grin pulling on your face. “About to surprise you, of course.” 

The general is not a man to be trifled with. Hence, when he tilted his head to the side, unsure of what your coy entendre was supposed to mean, you were slightly terrified of his rejection.

What would he say to your next plan? Would he ridicule you and find it foolish? 

“Surprise?” His rough, low voice involuntarily sent shivers down your spine. “What kind of surprise?” 

The general does not like to be blindsided. Your answer was meek, almost like a girl who was about to be berated by her superior.

“I wanted to… I wanted to dance for you, Kento-san.” 

Now, his attention was piqued. Nanami’s back went ramrod straight, those dark eyes widening infinitesimally. “Dance for me? Why ever for?” 

He did not sound disappointed or peeved. Instead, you detected a note of curiosity in his genuine question—the first stirrings of a man who had never been indulged in such finery.

You had to hide a smirk behind your fall of hair. Only General Nanami—a man who brought an infamous geisha under his wing—would be taken aback by her natural want to charm and appease him. 

Your smile was partly patient, partly abashed. “Because,” you started, and walked over to him slowly. Nanami did not cringe back or let himself be bowed over by your sudden proximity; keeping his reactions fastened to his chest. “I want to do it.” 

His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. You could see the ripping flow of emotions erupting across his handsome features; a thread of desire overshadowed by his strict samurai stolidity.

“You do not have to do this.” His voice was soft, cottoned with gentleness. Giving you a route of escape should your mortification catch up with common sense. 

You shook your head. “Please, Nanami-san. Let me do this for you. I wanted to show you some lessons I remembered.” 

It had been a considerable amount of time since you last put on a Natsu wa Hotaru for men. Your nerves were getting the best of you, but you strapped on your armour of gratitude towards this man who had housed, fed and clothed you with little to no expectation of any returning sentiments. Why General Nanami had chosen you—perhaps you may never know. But, you had learned to never question providence whenever it fell into your lap like a sleepy, curling kitten. 

Kento was in no obligation to give into your whims, but he eased himself into a cross-legged position onto the tatami floors, the split in front of his striped blue yukata showing off a web of whitened scars. 

You didn’t have any music to accompany you, but Mama-san always did say you had a beautiful humming voice. 

Graciously picking up the uchiwa fan—one of the only items you had taken from your old life in the okiya into your new one as part of his household—you held it above your head, warming up with a low hum. 

Your arm arched overhead, easing in front of your body with a slowed, graceful swoop. You recounted the steps perforated deep into your subconscious from Mama-san’s rigid lessons—spinning on your heel, lifting your head and eyes to the sun to give thanks for the summer. All the while, your voice never broke or petered off, rich and warm like the rays streaming through the paper thin shoji windows. 

Nanami did not move nor you suspected, breathed. He was hewed of stone, fists clenched atop of his lap. The only sign of movement were his eyes, steadily following every motion of your body. Men would often compliment how you moved like water—Mizu no Megami—they called you. 

The water goddess.

There was a fluidity to your motions which would put rainfall to shame, and Nanami was starting to believe why his comrades used to say geishas were the spirits of grace put right onto this earth. 

From the arch of your back, to the curve of your arms in midair, spinning the fan in your lithe fingers like you were one with its fluttering disposition, made him firmly believe you were an otherworldly being. 

And your voice… it never faltered. A sweet, rich octave which brought goosebumps to his skin.

All too soon, your performance ended. You were bright-eyed and warm in your cheeks, waiting for him to thaw, frozen in your ending position of knees bent, arms curved close to your waist. 

Instead of applauding, like rowdy men were wont to do, Nanami slowly got to his feet. 

He approached you, careful not to scare you with too quick of a movement, and soft as down, his large, scarred palms cupped your face. 

You were petrified, not with fear, but with baited desire. He stroked your cheeks, rough pads of his thumbs soothing on your far softer skin, and there was a look you knew all too well on his dear face. They reminded you of watching your onee-sans stagger back into the okiya, drunk and whispering that they would kill you if you told Mama-san of their evening whereabouts. Not much of where they had been, but who they were with.

Older men. Soldiers. Politicians.

Everyone of them wore a secret, satisfied smile like they were sated from a huge meal after starving for decades. Now, years later when you were free from the constrictions of tight obis and etiquette, you could see desire plainly in the open air—finally free to indulge in it.

His lips touched yours in the softest of caresses, and you didn’t fight him off when he swept you into the seam of his embrace. Your body fell against his—like two pieces of Go flushed together, slotting perfectly in each other’s spaces, finding a clear path towards a release of intensity which brimmed and brimmed; eventually bubbling over.

Nanami removed your obi, pulling down your simple, sakura-patterned sobe panels, revealing the tender rise of your shoulders to his touch. He kissed a pathway down your neck, marking his territory right on your collarbones; bold enough to touch his tongue to your pulse point.

Your soft gasp thrilled through the morning air, drops of unfettered desire clinging between both of your bodies like a film of sweat. 

“Tell me to stop,” Kento’s gruff voice breached through the fog in your mind, drawing you down into deeper depths of rapture. “Tell me to stop whenever you want me to.” 

“I do not,” you replied back, heavy in breath and intention when you softly rested your palms on his scarred chest. Without a lingering second for him to chart your intentions and misconstrue them, you unwound his own yukata sash, feeling more of his rough, pale skin under your wandering touch. “I want you, Kento. I want you, it burns.” 

That was enough for Nanami to discard years of training to tame his emotions. The beast within was roaring to claim you, his blood singing like it would whenever he was about to rush into a battlefield. But, this time, it wasn’t severed limbs or broken bones awaiting him, but the terrains of your body drawing him to unleash his brute desire. 

Nanami was brash when he lifted you up, your feet dangling in midair, only to be swept into the crevice of his arms. He brought you to the bedroom with barely any effort exerted, not a droplet of sweat rolling down his sharp cheekbones and sunken temples. 

Gently this time, he laid you on the futon, covering your entire body with his bigger build. You had never noticed how starkly a man towered over you, until you were in this position to look up at him. Wonder stained your sighs, those wide eyes gleaming with a girl-like innocence charming as it tugged on his soul. 

Kento felt a warmth unlike any other he had ever encountered in his arduous life; like a thousand bees were swarming in his chest, warming up the cavities of his austere ribcage housing his equally stony heart. 

His large hands swept down your shoulders, parting your kimono further apart, until the panels were splayed around your naked body. Those dark eyes appraised the crease in between your thighs, memorising them like it was his next terrain to conquer. 

Nanami was never a man who gave into the screamings of flesh, but in this instance, he felt like his veins were sparked with gunpowder—igniting from the base of his spine to the tips of his toes. 

“You are beautiful.”

That lavish praise tumbled freely from his parted mouth, burying itself underneath your blooming affections. 

However, his next words sent you reeling, like a bare branch tumbling in a storm, when he uttered: 

“I want to ruin you.”

His lips descended back onto yours, kissing with an ardour that would’ve frightened a more modest woman. Modesty—thankfully—was not part of your script, and you returned his kiss with an equal zeal that many men would find loose and unbecoming. 

From the ends of your hair to the crest of your toes, your body pulsed with an unbridled heat for him. You were soaked in between your thighs. 

Such simple kisses were making you unravel, unlike a tapestry whose loose thread had the power to undo the striking masterpiece. You were crumbling for Kento, relenting to his relentless passion. 

The taste of sleep and his skin was strong with every curl of his tongue on yours. Something hard and foreign was poking your thigh, and Kento’s strong hips undulated, his mind losing control of his body.

“Fuck,” he swore lowly, eyeing the lines between both of your bodies with a gleam in those dark, unfathomable eyes. 

You cupped his face to yours, admiring every instance of those beautiful features with their scars and faint wrinkles. A part of you wondered—as he shoved his yukata off to one side of the room—if your children would have his blonde hair. 

Nanami’s cock was imposing and resting on your thigh. His kisses were unhurried now, and they were traversing lower and lower down your body. He nipped your collarbones. Kissed your jaw and scraped his teeth on your pulse point. That same mouth roamed in between your breasts, finding the peaks of your stiff nipples and sucking on them tenderly, mouthing on them like he was attempting to extract some deeper essence from your willing body. 

Your breathing hitched when he dared to roam lower—right towards the apex of your body where your lust was undeniable. 

Kento gently parted your thighs, resting deeper in between the promised crease. His mouth touched your pelvis first, sending what felt like hot flashes up your spine. And the moment you felt his mouth on your tender parts, you were sure you moaned loud enough to wake up the old teamaker next door. 

“Kento,” you gasped, disregarding all of your etiquette training to succumb to the lust like you were no better than the harlots walking down cobblestone pavements at night. “Oh! Oh…” 

His tongue was working you into a frenzy, and those thick fingers ran through the seam of your sticky heat, parting your folds to get to the heart of your desire. One thick, calloused finger rubbed firm circles on your sensitive nub, eliciting a tremble in your thighs you had only experienced when standing for too long on a hot day. 

“Kento,” you gasped out, almost purring his name like a wanton whore. “Oh—I-I’m—” you broke off, unable to speak past the pleasure knotting underneath your sternum, making you stutter and choke. Your eyes watered, tears dripping down your cheeks; smeared by loving kisses from the man above you who watched your fall with pure rapture. 

How your brows knitted together, how your mouth fell open, a scream rebounding across the room…

“Shit,” Kento cursed, unable to help himself from driving his hips deeper and deeper into your body. “Shit, shit, shit—I’m—”

His stuttered moan was heralded by a well of warmth filling you up. The ecstasy of belonging to Kento; of feeling him melt into your walls, was the sweetest sin unlike any other. You lived for his flushed cheeks, his feral snarl, his handsome face contorting like it was in pain…

He slumped atop of you, pushing you further into the futon until your chest was smothered from the full weight of him. But, deprivation of air was not your main concern, not when Kento was kissing down your forehead, cheeks and jaw like you were a precious jewel he had just found out was real. 

Your giggle was a sweet sublime balm for his soul, and he smiled like the first warm rays of a summer morning. 

A tenderness unlike any other rooted itself in your soul, and for the first time, you figured out why men would go to war for love; why women sacrificed parts of their souls and bodies for a mere sliver of hope that their love would bloom eternally. 

Your eyes were open, and your heart welcomed every drop of his presence. 

Kento brushed the back of his knuckles down your cheek, expression softening when you began to grin.

“I did not hurt you?” 

Soft as down, you pressed his knuckles to your lips, kissing them softly. “No.”

The stoic samurai tried his best to hide how pathetically his heart raced at your tiny gesture, but his growing smile told the full truth, slowly coming to light like the indentations of a secret message upon paper being shaded in with charcoal. 

“We should be getting up for breakfast.” Ever the worrier, Kento was concerned about your lack of nutrition; if you were already starving and he had overtaxed you. 

But, your returning grin was part deific and part exasperation for the older man before you; filled with a gentleness your scarred and scared heart had never felt in her lifetime.

“We should,” you hummed in agreement. Neither of you made a move to leave each other’s embrace, and the morning sun continued speckling dancing shadows of waving sakura branches against the shoji windows.

©️ LALUNANYMPH

[mega-punani]

A request for the pirate AU (I absolutely love it btw) but how would the boys react to the MC being like papyrus and being surprisingly smooth with their words. Basically how would they react to a good flirt that flusters them?

I got an image that kinda shows how they might react here. But I wanna write it out 2 soooooooo

Flirty MC Reactions:

Sans: OH. OHHHHHHHHHHH. Sans doesn't know what to say. In fact, he is unable to speak at all. He'll stutter away as he tries to find a way to excuse himself appropriately. Darn, he's usually much more composed than this...

Papyrus: He's flustered. Face flushed, he's going to wiggle around, trying to find the right words to thank you with. He's incredibly happy, of course. You just gave him such a suave compliment!

Blue: Mans is kicking his feet and giggling. You've brightened his day, maybe even his week. He'll act coy but won't stop you from praising and rizzing him up. Definitely puffs out his chest when you're around-

Stretch: Hwa- Stretch is flabbergasted. Nothing will be said untill you stop and leave. Of course, the moment you leave, he's breaking down in hysterics. When we're you still smooth?????

Red: Red appreciates a good flirt. As you keep talking, he'll slowly back you up to the wall and lean an arm near your head. He's soaking up all that attention, and at this rate, you two should just make out!

Edge: He's embarrassed as hell. Sure, Edge appreciates a good compliment here and there, but mostly, it has to do with work. You talk so highly of everything about him. For the first time, he has no idea what to do-

Razz: Razz will definitely just scoff. His ego is so big that your measly words would not falter it. But if you catch him in time, he'll look away and fam his face furiously. How dare you reduce him to THIS by simply speaking!

Cash: Most of the time, Cash gets skeptical, but he'll push it aside if it's you. After all, he doesn't get a lot of positive attention, and he needs as much as he can nab. He'll probably flirt back all with a sly grin on his face.

Bear: "oh..." This is literally the only thing he'll say to you as you go on to talking. Most of the time, Bear thinks conversation is annoying, but you have such a way with words. A steady blue will rise up his spine to his cheekbones the longer the interaction continues.

Cinnamon: Literally hiding his face in his hands. If you try to pry his hands off his face, he will resist and attempt to shake you off. He can't let you see the gargantuan smile on his face, or you'll know his weakness! Compliments!

[alectoperdita]

WIP Wednesday

This may be the best part of sugar baby AU if I'm honest. Continuing from the "interview" snippet I posted forever ago.

---

Katsuya shrugged with a lazy roll of his shoulders. "You paid for the hour, Kaiba-san. How we spend it is up to you. 'Sides, I get the sense you don't care for the desperate and clingy ones. If you've already made up your mind about me, I doubt there's anything I can say to change your mind."

Seto's gaze dipped to Katsuya's chest again, focusing on the neatly knotted crimson-pattern tie that popped against the white of his form-fitting shirt. The color appeared to be his sole concession to his profession, because it was too garish for conventional office settings.

"Do you own a suit?" he asked.

"A few. They kinda run the gamut in style. I do try my best to dress to both the occasion and my client's tastes. My closet might be even bigger than yours. Occupational hazard." He laughed again. His body language was relaxed and open, signaling he had nothing to hide. Except for the fact that everything he did was purposefully calculated.

The tension bled from Seto's shoulder. Client; the verbiage reframed their conversation on more familiar grounds. Katsuya was offering a service, and Seto was considering purchasing. Neither harbored delusions as to why they were here. This meeting was due diligence.

"What about a tuxedo?" Seto locked eyes with the man once more.

"Hmm. Don't got one of those. But I can rent one if there's the need."

Seto clucked his tongue in disapproval. "No, it'll need to be bespoke. Otherwise, it'll look shoddy."

For the first time, Katsuya's forehead creased, but he papered over it with an overly bright grin. "Does that mean I got the job? If you have something specific in mind, you can lay it all on the table. I'm flexible in many ways."

The innuendo and double entendre should annoy Seto. But that was a host's job, right? To flatter and flirt? He should consider himself lucky that Katsuya didn't do so in a manner that grated on Seto's nerves.

Far from it.

He wouldn't go as far as to say he was charmed by the host. But Katsuya was unexpectedly sharp, both in his wits and looks. Seto could certainly find far worse company for an evening social. "Next month, I'll be attending a charity gala. At present, I lack a plus one for the evening."

Katsuya's expression turned coy. "I would love to help you with that, Kaiba-san. I'm a rage at parties, especially corporate gigs." He winked.

"This isn't any 'corporate gig.' It's a black-tie gala with a formal wear dress code," reminded Seto.

Katsuya jutted his chin stubbornly. "I can handle it. I talk to people from all walks of life, y'know."

"Including the prime minister?" asked Seto, arching an eyebrow in question.

Katsuya's mouth opened, then snapped shut again. It was gratifying to see him caught off-guard, even if for only a short while. "Okay, you got me there. Never rubbed elbows with the PM before," he acquiesced, then straightened his posture again. "You said I need a tux, right? I'll go check out some places as soon as you confirm the time and date. The reservation system is first-come, first-serve. Can't guarantee my availability otherwise." Then with the hint of a predatory smirk, he added, "Or I can block off the whole night for you."

There it was: the hard-sell paired with time pressure. Basic sales tactics, but Seto didn't begrudge him that. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of Seto's neck and into his collar.

"Why would I need the whole night?" he asked flatly.

For some reason, Katsuya's grin widened a fraction. His expression hung on the edge of leering, complete with hints of bedroom eyes. "I am full-service. If you catch my drift."

Something warm nudged his pinky. Seto jolted, wide eyes flying to the tabletop where Katsuya's fingertip brushed against his knuckle. The first fleeting instance of direct skin-on-skin contact. It was electric. He fully expected the other man to remove his hand, but the seconds dragged on and Katsuya's finger remained flush on Seto.

"Full-service," repeated Seto. His voice sounded distant, hundreds of kilometers away. "Good to know."

[mini-yoongers]

The Morning After

Pairing: Choi San x AMAB pov Genre: Slice of life/smut W/C: 1,117 Stuff: Sub-top San, established couple (cute), non-idol au, anal, kitchen sex, tbh this is borderline vanilla, I'm not like other fanfic writers I'm sorry y/n i literally cannot write in second person this is just what I do, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

If you enjoyed this, I made an AO3 account ok???>>> Arikuusou

Nothing posted yet, but I'm working on it I promise! Will be primarily Ateez fics.

San was always most beautiful the morning after a hard fuck. Watching him walk out of the bedroom all loose bones and floppy hair, a layer of lust beneath the sleepiness in his eyes... God, he was a vision, a seraph, the closest thing to a perfect man if there ever was one.

But he didn't like it when I called him perfect, so I tried to avoid it.

"Morning, sunshine." I smiled at him from where I sat at the kitchen island. He didn't respond in words, but stepped over to drape himself over me.

A signature San hug, hot and enveloping, lingering much longer than one would expect. That had taken me time to get used to in the beginning.

He kissed my neck and then moved away to pour himself a coffee. When he sat across from me, he quirked a brow, realizing I had been watching his every move. "What?"

I shrugged, a little coy. "Just thinking about last night."

He smirked and took his first sip of coffee. "Yeah that was..."

Exceptional. One of our best nights so far. Sometimes it was hard to remember we'd only been together 8 months when it felt like this was always our life, always would be.

"I'm thinking we shouldn't leave the apartment today," I said.

"Pretty windy out there," San agreed with a sly look on his face.

I at least let him get through half his drink before I got up and kissed him, the taste of morning mint and coffee bean filling my mouth. His skin was impossibly smooth, his hair thick and shiny as it tickled my cheek, and I wondered how I got so lucky to have caught this man's eye and heart.

I reached down and found him already rock-hard beneath his boxer briefs, which sent blood rushing between my own legs.

I stroked his cock over the fabric a few times and he abruptly started kissing me hard, biting my lips.

"Ah, ah," I backed away, gently pressing my palm to his chest. "Not too eager now. Have you forgotten all the good lessons you learned last night."

His eyes clouded further. "No, I haven't forgotten."

"Of course not. You're such a good boy. Kneel for me."

No hesitation. He slid from the stool and to the floor, looking up at me for his next instruction.

It killed me the way San loved this; made me somehow horny and sad at the same time. His whole life, he'd always had to perform, always had to be the big man, tough and strong, giving orders. He'd taken his father's company over shortly before I met him, and I saw the toll it took.

But here, with me, he could escape all that. He could just rest, follow my instructions, and not think, not decide.

"Now get my cock out and put your mouth on it."

He was so eager, but trying to hide it.

I sighed as his wet lips enveloped me. He starts gentle but quickly ramps up, sucking my head and all the spots he knows will make me needy fast.

"Fuck," I breathe, amazed as always at him. "Good boy. I'm going to need you to fuck me this morning, Sannie."

"Of course," he exhaled.

I reached over the counter and snatched up a bottle of coconut oil. "Give me your hand."

He offered his palm and I poured the oil on it, not worried about the mess we were starting to make. I leaned back against the island as he took my cock in his mouth again, reaching around to spread my cheeks.

I was still sensitive and turned-on from the night before and moaned loudly when he slipped the first finger in. He smirked up at me and me down at him.

"Get that smile off your face," I breathed as he began easily opening me up. His fingers were so different from his cock, quick and bony and rutted. I almost chided him to slow down but it felt too good and I was way too horny. Some dom I was.

But he would keep going until I told him to stop, so finally I took his wrist and pulled his fingers out of me. He kissed the front of my stomach and hips, and I took his chin in my hand.

"How's your cock feeling, baby boy?"

"So horny," he whispered.

"You want me to put it inside me?"

"Please."

"Beg."

"Please, please, put my cock inside you."

"Are you going to stay still like a good little boy?"

"Yes, I promise."

The way his voice became so soft and desperate, his pure willingness to do everything I asked. My cock was dripping and my insides were screaming for him. I couldn't play around any longer and I pushed him against the counter, looking down at his desperate member. I slathered him with more oil, watching his stomach tighten as I coated him, stroking gratuitously.

His breath caught when I finally turned around and sheathed his cock in my ass. I was rushing, a little, but the burn faded as soon as I tugged his hand around to touch me.

"Fuck," he breathed, his hips jerking an uncontrolled movement.

There was no suppressing the little cry I made, the hitch of breath at him pushing deeper.

I rocked back until I could feel his balls pressing against mine, and then fucked him with all the needy desperation we were both feeling this morning. Mostly, he stayed still like a good boy while I used his cock, moaning loud enough that anyone in the hallway of the building could hear. The noises San made, all suppressed and high and full of release, had my belly swirling.

Already my orgasm was coiling, and I lamented for a moment until I remembered we had the whole day ahead of us. I focused on feeling every inch of his smooth cock inside me again and again. My perfect, smooth San, so hard yet so gentle. I cried out and came all over the clean white kitchen floor. As I clenched and throbbed around him, San could no longer hold still. I felt his nails dig into my skin as he gripped my hips, going stiff and silent in ecstasy as he spilled what little was left from last night deep inside me.

Exhausted, I leaned back against him and he held me. His cock popped out of me with a delicious, wet sound.

"Fuck," I breathed.

"Yeah," San said. "I love you."

"Yeah? Even though I made your coffee go cold?"

He nuzzled into my neck, kissing every bit of skin he could get too. "Definitely." He sighed deeply, a sated sigh, a blissful sigh. "That was a great morning fuck. Perfect."

[vibratingskull]

Alright @ele-millennial-weirdo asked me a little text about our boy Thrawn in my weird and strange mother language that is French, because I never write in my own language (strangely). So here you go! We'll see if i ever provide a translation

Karyn Faro marche dans les longs et sinueux couloirs du Chimaera, pour tout un chacun cela serait un labyrinthe tortueux mais elle est la Commodore du vaisseau, il n’a aucun secret pour elle. Les officiers de rang inférieur et subalterne la saluent avec respect quand leurs chemins se croisent, elle leur répond d’un hochement de tête et poursuit sa route. Elle arrive devant la porte de la suite du Grand Amiral Thrawn, donne son cylindre de codes au Stormtrooper et passe la porte coulissante.

La pièce est large, mal éclairée, sans doute une volonté de la part du Grand Amiral et une légère odeur d’alcool semble flotter dans l’air. Les hologrammes d'œuvres d’art flottent ça et là dans la pièce, égayant ce salon qui manque cruellement de personnalité si ce n’est de charme. Le luxe est bien présent par contre…

“Grand Amiral?” elle appelle doucement, de peur de le déranger dans son intimité.

“Je suis là, Commodore,” il répond depuis un fauteuil caché dans un coin où il ne peut être remarqué mais où il peut observer la porte comme bon lui semble. “Vous souhaitez quelque chose?” il demande d’une voix qui semble empreinte de lassitude.

“Les cartes Grand Amiral” elle indique, “Je vous apporte les datacartes.”

Il ne répond pas et tend la main vers elle.

“Approchez, Karyn, approchez…”

Elle obéit, comme une bonne Commodore le devrait et s’avance vers l’homme. Elle remarque le verre de whisky posé sur la table, sans doute sa seule compagnie de la soirée, pense-t-elle..

“Un problème, Monsieur?” Elle demande prudemment.

“Pas le moins du monde, je souhaite simplement vous observer de plus prêt.”répond-il en tapotant ses genoux “Asseyez vous.”

Elle marque un temps d’arrêt, une hésitation subtile mais qui n’échappe pas au Chiss.

“Allons, nous avons dépassé ce stade ne pensez vous pas?” il la réprimande gentiment, un léger sourire flottant sur ses lèvres

Elle repense aux nuits de passions qu’ils ont déjà partagés et aux baisers enflammés qu’elle prend plaisir à voler à ses lèvres. Elle secoue la tête, effectivement hésiter pour si peu est ridicule compte tenu de leur passif. Elle finit d’approcher et s’assoie confortablement sur les larges et solides genoux de son officier supérieur. Thrawn soupire, lui caressant le dos délicatement. Elle passe son bras autour de ses épaules et lui caresse les cheveux, attendant qu’il s’explique, mais il reste muet, observant la baie vitrée donnant sur l’infinie galaxie, froide et noire. Il repose sa tête dans le creux de son épaule, inhalant l’odeur de ses cheveux et le parfum du gel douche réglementaire de la Navy. 

Elle lui prend la main reposant sur ses genoux et la presse.

“Y-a-t-il un problème, Thrawn?” demande-t-elle à nouveau, avec une voix plus douce.

Il soupire à nouveau.

“Je suis las, Karyn.” Explique-t-il “Las de ces conflits triviaux, de tous ces problèmes que l’Empire se crée lui-même. De toutes ces querelles politiques incompréhensibles et de ces hommes et femmes véreux qui ne savent voir plus loin que leurs propres intérêts…” il marque une pause, semblant rassembler ses mots “Et par-dessus tout je suis las de ma solitude. J’aspire à rentrer chez moi, retrouver les miens et la chaleur réconfortante de mon foyer…”

Karyn reste coi, abasourdie par ces révélations. Combien de verres a-t-il bu pour lui avouer tout cela? Elle repose son menton sur le haut de sa tête.

“Eli Vanto vous manque?” elle murmure.

“En effet.” il admet “C’est un ami qu’il me plairait de revoir. Mais il ne pourra jamais remplir le gouffre que je ressens…”

Les notes d’alcool de son haleine remontent jusqu’aux narines de Karyn, il est définitivement soul. Il la serre contre lui, enfouissant sa tête contre sa poitrine, inhalant son parfum au plus profond de ses poumons. Elle embrasse le haut de son crâne.

“Ne suis-je pas une amie également?”

“Vous l’êtes… Et bien plus que cela. Vous partagez ma vie dans ses victoires commes ses moments les plus sombres, vous êtes une fidèle compagne et un atout précieux.” Il continue, sa voix quelque peu étouffée par le tissu de l’uniforme de Karyn “Je ne saurais me défaire de vous, vous êtes trop précieuse…”

Elle continue ses caresses de cheveux alors que son cœur s’emballe à ces compliments. Thrawn savait complimenter ses officiers mais c’était toujours montré secret dans sa vie privée, même envers elle. Une telle démonstration d’affection était particulièrement rare et très certainement due à l’alcool.

Elle le plaint sincèrement. Être envoyé loin de chez soi, chez des étrangers pour quérir de l’aide, et ensuite gravir les échelons d’une entité militaire dans un environnement hostile à sa race… Elle n’en mènerait pas large, du moins pas aussi bien que Thrawn.

“M'aideras-tu?” Susurre-t-il “M’aideras-tu, Karyn, a trompé ma solitude une fois encore dans tes bras?” enfonçant ses doigts dans sa chair, comme si elle pouvait s’enfuir de ses bras à tout instant.

Comme si elle voulait être autre part que dans ses bras…

“Bien sûr, Thrawn.” Elle embrasse sa joue. “Ce soir, demain et tous les jours si il le faudra…”

Ils regardent dans les yeux l’un de l’autre, il n’y voit que dévotion, résolution et loyauté, elle y voit noirceur, solitude et une ombre de tristesse. Mais les deux voient également l’amour. Partagé, sincère, secret… Fragile.

Ils scellent leurs lèvres en un tendre baiser qui s’enhardit et s’enflamme, les laissant pantelant. Il repose sa tête sur son épaule et embrasse son cou, sa main glissant vers le haut de sa cuisse vers le cœur de tous ses désirs.

Elle le sert contre elle, fort, comme si il pouvait disparaître.

Ce soir ils tromperont leur solitude ensemble à nouveau.

@kissed--byfire, @al-astakbar

[queen-scribbles]

The Long Burning Torch ch 8

Alright, here we go, continuing what might be (rip) the longest day of Xaeryn's life for my @shepherds-of-haven 20's AU. (And a big thanks to @emeraldgreaves for code diving for me again <3)

Wordcount: 8,350~

---

Xaeryn's knee-jerk instinct was to correct 'abducted, not kidnapped'. As if that made a lick of difference to the fact Red was gone because someone had taken him.

Closely on its heels came Sun above, this is my fault. It wasn't as if Red was involved with anything else that had even a sliver of a chance to put him in danger; it had to be the research he was doing for her, or something else related to the case.

She shook off both thoughts and made herself focus. Panic wouldn't help Red. Her detective skills might. Would. "Could I see his office?"

Pan gave her a concerned look--probably heard the slight break in her voice. "Xaer, are you...?"

"Crying about it won't find him any faster," she said brusquely, squaring her shoulders. "But if those responsible" --for abducting him--"left any clues, especially if there's something I could use to help scrying..."

He nodded, an understanding gleam in his eye. "I think security's done and didn't find anything to make them suspicious, but you deal with this sort of thing more than they do, so if you wanna take a gander..."

He gestured toward the office, then followed a pace or two behind her, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. He didn't say anything and let her take in the scene.

It looked the same, roughly, as the last time she'd visited, just sans one tall, charming headmaster to greet her with an easy smile and warm green eyes. It almost offended her that Red's office looked the same without him in it, which was silly.

But it looked the same. There were no signs of a struggle or a fight.

Xaeryn traced a finger along the edge of the desk, smiling slightly at the trio of books half on top of each other, the stack of six more haphazard next to the chair, the charcoal grey suit jacket hanging off one corner of the chairback. It was the sort of space she could guess belonged to Red Antiqua without ever seeing him in it.

The books open on the desk were familiar ones; Jalis desert tribes, pre-Castigation artefacts. The research he'd offered to recompile for her. She stared at the desk and chairs for a long moment.

"... a girl does need a job eventually, and I’ve always loved a good mystery.”

“Or even a bad one..."

She didn't like how hard it was to focus on the task at hand; she was behind the eight ball enough without getting distracted by their bull sessions here over the past sennight--

She straightened.

"Ryn? You need to leave?" Pan asked.

Xaeryn shook her head. "I'm fine," she said, voice steady. "There are books on the chairs."

"Yeah, that's Red for you." Pan shot her a questioning look. "You know the man's borderline incapable of putting away books he 'might need later', even if later turns out to be two months down the road."

She couldn't help a small laugh. "No, I do know that. The books are still on the chairs. Whoever took him didn't try to be chummy and draw out their visit. When he has company that's staying, he moves the books so they have somewhere to sit. So this was quick in and out, no signs of struggle, and they didn't try to play coy. This was a mission."

God help her, it was hard to stay and sound detached about this.

"Well, night watchman says he didn't hear or see anything odd and he's always been honest and faithful in doing his rounds. He does stay on the first floor, though, as there's no other access to up here than the lobby, and there's another watchman outside." Pan crossed his arms, looking thoughtfully around the office. "So either they knew his schedule, got blazing lucky, or... didn't come through downstairs."

"If they didn't come through downstairs, maybe they had a Traveler," Xaeryn mused. "But it would be a gamble to translocate into an unfamiliar space as small as an office." She frowned.

"Maybe they just scaled the outside of the building," Pan suggested. "Wouldn't take more than an hour of waiting to gauge the outside watchman's rounds."

"And figuring out which window would be unlocked?" Xaeryn countered, just to see how far they could follow this possibility.

Pan's eyes narrowed, and he swore under his breath before darting down the hall. She arched a brow at the abrupt departure and resumed examining the room until he returned.

"The corner office," he said, scowling. "It's unoccupied right now, so we use it when we need a break. Sela's always smoking charch in there, and then Bart opens the window to get the smell out but he never remembers to close it all the way. And if the door's mostly shut, you wouldn't see it from the hall. Hael."

"Even if we accept that theory for how they got in, how would they make a clean sneak with Red?" she pointed out. "He'd either be struggling or..." she wrinkled her nose at the phrasing even as she said it. "...dead weight."

Pan ran a hand through his hair, rubbed the back of his neck, and eventually shook his head. "Search me."

Xaeryn mulled it over for a bit, looking at the other books on Red's desk, smiling at the scraps of paper sticking out to mark pages. "What if... both idea are right? They came in through the window, but translocated out? Their hideout would be a familiar destination, thus safe to Travel to. It's an effective way to get an... unwilling or unconscious companion somewhere without much fuss."

"That means there probably were only one or two of them..." Pan sighed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "I offered to help him. With getting things together for you. I already know some of the details and I can keep my mouth shut. He said it was fine; this sort of thing is fun. B'sides, it wasn't like he minded doing it for you--"

Her heart squeezed. "He said that?"

"No, but, Xaer" --Pan arched a brow at her-- "I know both of you well enough to read between the lines."

She couldn't argue that. "How many times do I have to remind you you can call me Red?"

"Anyway, if I'd stayed, and there were only a couple of these toughs, maybe... maybe it would be an attempted kidnapping."

Xaeryn shook her head. "Depends how badly they wanted him." Her conversation with Briony and Darius was too fresh in her mind. "You might also be hurt or dead, and that's the last thing he'd want. Or that I want."

"Good point." He sucked the inside of his cheek. "Why would someone want Red that badly, Xaeryn? Is this... because of your case?"

"I think so." She winced. "I just don't know what part of his involvement would make him an appealing target." She hugged her arms in close against her chest. "If it was something specific or just because we were seen together and the people I'm after thought taking him would... hurt me."

They weren't wrong.

"I don't want to know all of what's going on, Ryn," Pan sighed, "but if that's the case, these sound like some pretty nasty brunos to mess with."

"They are." No point sugarcoating it.

Pan didn't reply, just leaned against the wall sucking his teeth as he watched her.

Xaeryn circled the desk again, hoping desperately for something that would be a clue or--

A curling corner of notebook paper peeked out from under one of the open books on the desk. She shifted the tomes aside and found a whole sheaf, covered front and back in sprawling notes. He'd even written in their shorthand, which made a small smile tug her lips despite the circumstances.

"He got a lot down," she muttered under her breath, the familiar shorthand making something twist in her chest. I hope you're okay.

"Yeah, I think he foisted his class on someone else so he could just work on this all day." Pan pushed off the wall and approached. "Not a shocking twist."

Xaeryn looked up from the paper, brow furrowed but didn't rise to the bait.

Pan, however, was undeterred. He sat back on the edge of the desk, giving her a skeptical look. "You two have always been thick as thieves, but it made him a special kind of dizzy to have you come waltzing back into our lives, y'know."

The twist in her chest went tighter. "I didn't know, actually. But it's always wonderful to reunite with old friends."

"Uh-huh. Old friends." Pan studied his nails a moment, then looked back at her with brows arched. "And what happened between you old friends the night of the gala to make him not say a gods-blessed word the whole way back to the hotel?"

Her fingers tightened, crinkling the paper. "That doesn't seem like a relevant line of inquiry, Panrachus," she said, gaze fixed on the page before her.

"It is to me," he countered with a knowing smile. "Maybe something in there relates to why he got nabbed."

She didn't like that thought. Even more than she disliked Pan's prying. "Nothing happened at the gala."

"And after?" Pan asked pointedly.

"...I might do something dreadfully improper."

"Also nothing." It came out sharper than intended. Thanks to your timing. Xaeryn cleared her throat. "Beyond what you already knew; I got jumped on my way back and Red helped patch up the result of defending myself." She waved the bandaged hand as proof. "I'm glad he was there; it would've been a nightmare to do alone."

"Mm-hm."

She shot him a narrow-eyed look. "Why do I feel like you don't believe me?"

"I dunno." Pan gave her a look that spoke volumes. "Do you feel like part of it shouldn't be believed?"

She looked him dead in the eye. "Nothing. Happened."

"Alright, I believe you," he shrugged. A beat. "Did you want it to?"

The whole messy torrent of emotions she been damming up since that night surged in her chest. God help me, yes.

She was saved from a moment of naked vulnerability by something gleaming on the desk, down among the books and paper. She dug for it and came up with an earring, amber bead transfixed on a small gold hoop.

"Hello there," she murmured, cradling the jewelry in her palm. "Last I checked, Red wasn't one for earrings."

Pan shook his head. "And he's the only one who's been in this office since we got back from Haven..."

There was always the chance it came from a student who'd visited prior to that, but it was the only lead she'd found. Xaeryn did not want to dwell on what she'd do it it was a dead end. If it was her fault he'd been abducted, the least she could do was save him, too.

No time like the present, she told herself, and with a deep breath sat in Red's chair. Part of her would rather have her full focus for a scry, but she didn't want to wait the two hours it would take to drive home. There was a driving, itching need to do something now. She pulled out the small bronze dish from her handbag. Scrying with so small a focus would give her a fearsome headache, but she didn't care if it let her find Red.

Pan watched from the other side of the desk, lapsed into anxious silence.

Alright, you bastard. Her hand curled around the earring. Where are you?

Scrying on the present was like sticking her head in a shallow pond to see what was on the bottom--blurry or shadowed at the edges, but she could pick up the detail she was after.

This time, however, was like trying to dive into a frozen lake.

She could see the potential for a vision, but slammed into something that blocked her from reaching it. Dead air.

Xaeryn broke the attempted scry, heedless of the dull ache starting at her temples. "No, no, no..." she mumbled, looking around the room.

"Xaer?"

"It didn't work," she said sharply. At least that confirmed the earring didn't come from a random Solhadur student, but that wasn't worth beans if she couldn't use it to find him.

Her gaze lighted on the jacket hanging off his chair and she seized it, fingers curling in the charcoal grey fabric as the smell of dusty books and his cologne filled her nose. She stared fiercely at the scrying focus, daring it not to work.

Dead air, again.

Her heart lodged in her throat and she tried to push it back down. Think this through logically, Xaeryn. It can't be coincidence, this implies it is indeed the people who have the Torch--Kaza and his allies--who took Red. They clearly have a VERY good Binder laying wards. Maybe Neon would know something; Pan said he's working in Haven now, I could ask--

"-ryn." From Pan's tone he'd repeated her name a few times at this point.

"I can't see him, either," she admitted, numb at having to say the words aloud.

"So... what next, then?"

What, indeed. There had to be something else. Something she could do, someone she could talk to. She couldn't be powerless, not now, not for this. She fought the desperation tightening her chest. Calm. Panic will only cloud your mind, and how will you help if you aren't thinking straight? It took a few moments of sitting in silence, absently rubbing the fabric of Red's jacket between her fingers as she forced herself to follow her advice.

"Well," she finally began, "given I got the same result attempting to look for Liefred or the earring's owner as I do for Solimer's Torch, it's likely they're together. It's the only times I've had this happen when I scry, so I feel it's a logical assumption. I have Thieves Guild in Haven keeping an eye out for unusual activity in Ashtown--the most likely hiding place for these hooligans. I can see if they noticed anything since I last spoke to them. Having a..." Hostage? prisoner? "...person to stash in the same building might've stirred some some activity."

"All the way back in Haven?!"

"That is where my prime suspect currently resides," she pointed out. "And I have an appointment with a pair likewise working against him; maybe they saw something helpful if the Guild didn't."

Pan sucked his teeth a moment, then cracked a small, wry smile. "Red would have a heart attack if he knew you'd made a deal with a Thieves Guild."

"He can fuss over my choices til he's blue in the face, long as it means he's safe," she retorted, pushing to her feet. "I'll ring with updates, do you have a direct number?" She scribbled it sideways up Red's notes as Pan rattled it off, collected her scrying focus to tuck that and the earring in her handbag. Maybe later she'd have better results than just a headache.

"Maybe I should come with you. Just back to Haven."

Xaeryn shook her head, resting a hand on Pan's arm. "Just in case the security teams figure something important, if you're here you can pass it along."

His expression said he saw through the excuse to keep him somewhere safe, but he nodded. "Fine."

"I'll be in touch," Xaeryn promised. She hesitated to return the suit jacket. "Do you think he'd mind if I keep this? To try again later."

"Not a drop," Pan said, shaking his head. "Find him, Xaer. And be safe, huh? I don't want to lose one friend, let alone two."

She nodded, not pointing out those request may well turn out mutually exclusive, and headed for her car.

---

Her head was awhirl the whole drive home, but she didn't have time to puzzle it out--or speak to Thieves Guild--when she got back. She was cutting it close on making her meeting with Briony and Darius. One-God willing, they'd know something that would help tie King Kaza to Red's abduction, or at least gotten something pointing to where he had stashed the Torch.

Xaeryn parked, made a brief visit to her office to lock the notes and earring in her desk, and headed briskly for the meeting. She turned the corner just in time to catch a flash of green hair as Darius ducked into the curiosities shop.

While smart not to visit the café so soon, especially since he and Briony rather stood out as customers, it made Xaeryn wish she'd warned them of the shop proprietor's eccentricities. Chandry was harmless but... off-putting to some, and Darius didn't seem the type to handle off-putting well.

But she had bigger concerns now. Xaeryn took a deep breath as she pulled open the door, but there was only so much her nerves were willing to ease.

Darius wasn't immediately visible when she entered, but he found her quickly enough. "You look riled, miss lady detective."

Xaeryn flashed a flat look for his tone. "It's warranted. Where's Briony?"

He craned his neck to look around the store. "Either on her way, or I guess she couldn't breeze on his majesty." His eyes narrowed. "You don't look happy 'bout that. What's tricks?"

She looked down, pretending to browse the curiosities on offer. "A friend of mine was abducted. I'm of a mind it's connected to our... suspect; this friend was helping me with research on the Torch."

Darius frowned, playing with a dinged up first aid kit. "That's the only connection?"

"I don't need anything else," Xaeryn hissed. She dropped the charch pipe she hadn't really been looking at. "He's a professor, for Heaven's sake! The only thing remotely dangerous he's tied to is this!" She gestured between them. "I wanted to ask Briony if she'd noticed anything in King Kaza''s behavior or visitors that might help me narrow down when he was... taken."

"We need to find the Torch," he growled in an undertone, "not your sweetheart."

"Friend," Xaeryn corrected tartly--and far too quickly, even she heard it.

"Can I help you find anything?" Chandry's arrival had been so quiet it made Darius flinch, whatever remark he was about to make lost in staring at the garishly made up--or painted, Xaeryn had never decided which side of the line it occupied--face of the shop's owner and namesake.

"Not today, Chandry," she said with a small shake of her head. "Just browsing."

"In that case... make sure you look at the new arrivals," Chandry said, patting the rolled up rugs on a nearby table. "And, smart as you are, maybe you can help me with something." He leaned forward, elbows braced on the topmost rug.

It was the fastest way to get their relative privacy back, and he had saved her from a rather embarrassing turn of conversation, so Xaeryn indulged him. "Oh?"

Chandry grinned. "I've been having a wonder this morning. Which streets," he began conspiratorially, " would have the most ghosts on them, do you think?"

Xaeryn pretended to mull it over, though the answer was obvious, even tapping her finger to her chin dramatically. "I guess it would be... dead ends?"

He all but clapped in his enthusiasm. "Correct!" A flourishing bow. "I shall leave you to your shopping." He bounded off.

"Took long enough," Darius grumbled.

"Chandry's not so bad," Xaeryn said defensively. "You just need to know how to talk to him." There are benefits to being on his good side. But they were here for a purpose. "Back to the matter at hand, I am aware of your deadline; I'm fairly sure my friend's being held in the same place as the Torch."

"What makes you so sure?"

"I can't scry on him, either!" She bit her lip. "It's the same dead air feeling as trying to do so with the Torch, and it's something I've never encountered before, so it seems a logical conclusion."

"Hm," Darius grunted. "Y'know, if Jarkyth sent the brunos who grabbed your friend, there might not be anything to glean from Ackshin."

"I thought about that. D'you know if either of them employ Diminished? Aside from Briony."

"A few, I think," he shrugged, "but you'd have to ask Bry for specifics. What about your friend; he a Mage? Put up a fight?"

"He is, but his specialization is Conjuring, translocation, not combat."

"If he's a Traveler, why-"

Xaeryn held up a finger to cut him off. "I'm trying not to think about that. None of the answers that spring to mind are pleasant, especially in relation to my best friend."

Something glittered in Darius' eyes but he didn't pursue the thought. "Didja learn anything new before you got distracted?"

She had to grit her teeth not to snap Red being abducted wasn't a distraction. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of getting under her skin, she relayed her deal with Thieves Guild and plan to talk to them when this appointment was done. "And you? Did your behind the scenes snooping turn up anything?"

"Yes and no." Darius did a double take at a fishbowl--complete with fish--before pulling himself back to the conversation. "I tailed one of Ackshin's toughs, all the way to blazin' Ashtown, but she gave me the slip." He scowled. "Felt like we were close to where she was goin', too."

Xaeryn stiffened. "What part of Ashtown was this in? I can have the Guild look more closely."

"South-eastern, I guess I'd call it," Darius said after a moment. "Almost plastered against the outer wall."

It made sense for them to be away from the main drag, though she wouldn't have expected quite that far. Unless they knew of some way out through or under the walls.... For now the important thing was having a smaller area for search.

"Alright," she murmured, half to herself, "I can work with that, provided the Guild will play ball."

"Don't suppose you have anything more actionable for me, miss snooper?" Darius interrupted her train of thought.

Xaeryn grimaced and shook her head. "No, just the deal with Thieves Guild. I'm afraid I've been a bit preoccupied by the abduction today. So unless them making a bolder move helps you in some way, I don't."

He grunted and glared at a table of kitchen paraphernalia. "Gods damn this twisted up kn-"

The door jangled forcefully as it swung open to admit a new arrival, familiar pink ponytail swishing as she looked around.

Briony's eyes flashed when she saw them and it clearly took effort to act nonchalant on her way in their direction. She called a polite response to Chandry's greeting without even looking, dodged a small table, and finally reached Xaeryn and Darius. "Glad I didn't miss you," she murmured, examining a display of commemorative playbills and paintings. "Kaza had a couple meetings where he wanted a show of strength an' I think someone might've been tailing me--"

"And you still came?!" Darius hissed. Xaeryn couldn't disagree; it seemed a terrible risk.

"I lost them first!" she retorted, flicking him an annoyed look. "I've been doing this as long as you, Darius Torren, I know how to lose a tail!"

"Oh, but they're so useful for swatting flies, why would you want to lose a tail if you had it?" Chandry interjected, and Briony looked briefly taken aback by both his sudden presence and appearance.

At least she recovered faster than Darius, showing a warm smile. "Oh, I mean a much less useful kind of tail."

Chandry shrugged at the explanation and disappeared between shelves once more.

"All else aside, I am glad you made it," Xaeryn said to steer them on track. She had to take Briony's word she'd truly shaken the tail. "Any developments for you?"

"Jarkyth came by for a bit before lunch," Briony said, after a quick glance to assure Chandry was moved off and there were no other customers in the store. "They shut themselves in the sitting room for near an hour. They're planning something with the Torch, and I feel like--"

"Any other visitors or messages this morning?" Xaeryn interrupted. "Perhaps that evoked a change in demeanor?"

Briony gave her a curious look but nodded. "He got a message during breakfast that prompted a very smug smile." Her brow furrowed. "Come to think, he did say something to the messenger that I didn't catch. Wonder if that's what made Jarkyth come over; they've been really careful about appearances. Why?" She crossed her arms. "You're being sort of intense, Xaeryn. It's scaring me."

Xaeryn explained the circumstances. Again. "And with what you say occurred, I think it's a safe bet our friends are responsible."

Briony's expression shifted aghast and she reached over to squeeze Xaeryn's shoulder comfortingly. It was a surprisingly hefty squeeze. "Are you doing alright?"

Xaeryn nodded. "Don't have the luxury to be otherwise."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Actually, yes. Do you know of any other Diminished among King Kaza's entourage?"

Briony's face screwed in thought. "That came along? Just a few. It's funny; he's superstitious as hael, likes to flaunt me at every opportunity, but he's also nervous about trusting in magic too much. There's a Binder, to do his protective wards. Shy little redhead, I've never heard her speak and don't even know her name," she said regretfully, twirling her ponytail as she continued. "Heron's Ket, mostly here for his skill with battle magic, but he's a fair hand at conjuring--"

"Traveing?" Xaeryn's brows arched.

"He... probably could if he had to," Briony nodded, then gave a small gasp. "You think he's the one who took your friend?"

"Seems likely," Xaeryn said. If he was a full-blood Ket he could do it single-handed. "Are they the only ones?"

"For Ackshin, yeah. Jarkyth has a few 'judiciously placed servants' he's alluded to. Mostly things like Binding or Seer, useful but not dangerous if they decide to turn on him. Has a Shifter Heron won't stop nattering about." She smirked. "I think he's stuck on her."

Darius snorted. "Not important, Bry."

"You never know, D." She shrugged and turned to Xaeryn. "So, why do they want your friend?"

"I've been trying to figure that," Xaeryn sighed, trailing her fingers over a dark lantern. "Even from unpleasant angles. If they know I'm on their trail and want to keep me in the dark, I've already learned--and written down--near everything about the Torch, and there are... more final ways to remove him as a source.

"If they want to use him as leverage to make me dust on the case, you'd think they'd be more blatant or would have left a note-"

"Unless they're countin' on your big brain to fill in the blanks," Darius interjected sardonically. "An' you knowin' without them sayin' serving to make you more suggestible."

"Such a ray of sunshine, D," Briony groused, elbowing him sharply.

"He has a point," Xaeryn said, gritting her teeth at the thought. "But they'll be quite disappointed if that's their goal."

Briony flashed a fierce smile as she shifted to a shelf of knick knacks. "So, what's our plan, then?"

"Darius mentioned trailing one of the king's people to Ashtown. I'll have Thieves Guild watch the area more closely if they're amenable" --and she'd sweeten the deal if that's what it took to make them amenable--"you and Darius keep an eye for our friends' behavior so we can act swiftly if they do anything hinky." She tapped a finger to her lips. "I hate being stuck in so reactive a course, but I fear it's where our options lay."

Though if opportunity presented itself she would seize it with both hands.

"I guess you're righ- Oh, this is adorable!" Briony gave a delighted (and distracted) squeal as she snatched a small ceramic ahfuri off the shelf. It was adorable, but-

Xaeryn cleared her throat.

"I'll keep eyes peeled," Briony promised, cradling her find.

"How're we passing along anything we see?" Darius asked.

"Telephone or wire, I suppose," Xaeryn replied.

"Right." Briony nodded, wiggling slightly as she glanced toward the counter. "I'm gonna go pay for this." She darted across the store.

Darius fixed Xaeryn with a steady look. "You will tell us if you learn anything, right, miss snooper? Before you go harin' off after your friend alone?"

"Have you decided to worry about me in his absence?" Xaeryn said dryly.

He just arched a brow.

"I promise to pass along anything I learn, I don't promise to wait before acting on it."

Darius chuckled and glanced at Briony, who was chatting up Chandry with another warm smile as she paid. "Don't s'ppose I can blame you for that." He tugged on his cap. "See you soon, lady detective."

Briony noted him leaving and darted after him, barely remembering to grab her purchase.

Xaeryn smiled and browsed a few more minutes before heading for the door herself.

A hand on her arm stopped her just before she exited. "One moment," Chandry chirped, pressing something into her palm. "Don't forget your prize."

Xaeryn blinked at the bronze sun brooch. "Prize-?"

The riddle.

"To the victor go the spoils," Chandry proclaimed, releasing her arm to give another bow, and then ducked away. Rather than drag things out by protesting or trying to insist on paying--experience said he wouldn't take a danar--Xaeryn slipped the brooch in her handbag and headed for her office.

---

It hit her like a thunderbolt halfway up the steps--it was midafternoon and she'd not eaten since breakfast. As if summoned by the realization, her stomach cramped and her knees bobbled on the next step.

Xaeryn scowled at the reminder she needed to eat. There was too much to do, she needed to talk to Thieves Guild, she needed to poke around, she needed to find Red before--

Her stomach growled loudly.

I think there's still my half a sandwich left from yesterday, she surrendered--reluctantly--to her body's urging. After all, she wouldn't get much done if she fainted from hunger. The half sandwich. Perhaps an apple. Ten minutes to eat. She could spare that. Red would fuss if he knew she wasn't taking care of herself.

Xaeryn smiled wryly as she unlocked the door. That was better motivation than anything. She checked the back of the door as she closed it; no sigil showing, so no break-in attempt. She collected the sandwich and apple, opting to sit at her desk and review notes while she ate. Maybe there was something helpful she'd missed.

There was quite a bit to review, though less than it appeared by page count given Red's sprawling shorthand. He didn't doodle like she did, instead filling the page edge to edge. It didn't look like he'd found anything new while getting this together and it was easy to skim.

As she tucked the papers back in the drawer her gaze landed on the earring. She set down the small remaining portion of her sandwich and stared.

Couldn't hurt to try again...

She removed the earring, fetched her scrying disk, and cleared her mind to focus. The disk's surface clouded, cleared, and gave her nothing but the same dead air.

Xaeryn growled and glared at the earring. "Where is he?!"

She'd run into protective wards or sigils before blocking scries. This was different; just empty not blocked, and it kept happening on this case--

The telephone rang. She very seriously considered not answering. She needed to get to Ashtown. But that would be unprofessional, and what if it was Pan? Or Darius, or Briony, though this would be awful quick for one of them. So she sighed and picked up the receiver. "Xaeryn Shrike Investigations." Please be quick.

"Finally!" Ms. Aerin huffed on the other end. "I've been trying to reach you for hours, Miss Shrike!"

Really should get a secretary... "Apologies, there was a development and I was out of office." She ran a hand down her face.

"From your tone, I'd reckon this is not a positive development in the direction of recovering the artefact and arresting the thieves?"

"It might lead there," Xaeryn acknowledged. "But the actual occurrence is not. They abducted my friend who'd been helping with research."

"Ah. My condolences, Miss Shrike. Is there any chance of them learning compromising details?"

"Not if I've followed the trail to correct suspicions, no. He knows the history and legend around the Torch, but not the current state of my investigation." She shifted her grip on the telephone. "And my suspect is already familiar with all of that."

"Ah, so you do have a firm suspect."

"Mm." The brooch slid out of her handbag when she nudged it aside, and Xaeryn picked it up to toy with as she talked. "I was pretty firmly on his scent after the gala, but I met a couple... inside men, shall we say, who confirmed my suspicions. So I've found the man, I believe, I just need to find where he's stashed the artefact" --and Red--"and proof of his complicity in the matter."

"Excellent! Mr. Syndran told me you had some promising leads from the gala, I'm glad to hear one of them panned out," Ms. Aerin said. "The case has felt... treading water too long."

"Oh, yes, I suppose those developments did occur after we talked," Xaeryn murmured, tracing the bronze sun's rays.

"Talked?" There was a frown in her voice. "Miss Shrike, I wasn't there."

Something cold skittered down Xaeryn's spine to swirl in her gut. "What? I grant that it was a full night, but I distinctly remember talking to you."

"Then apparently I have a doppelganger," Ms. Aerin said tartly. "I didn't go, Miss Shrike. I was dealing with the effects of a traitorous sandwich at lunch."

Food poisoning?? "Then who..." The nagging sensation of just missing something was back. Followed like a bucket of ice water by the thought of the conversation she'd just had.

There's a Shifter working for Jarkyth.

"Did you inform Mr. Syndran you wouldn't be attending?" Xaeryn asked, willing her voice to stay level as her mind raced to incorporate this twist.

"Of course. I called the office." A pause. "I was honestly surprised to learn he attended without me. But the Hall is an important enough contract, I suppose it makes sense..."

Xaeryn shifted in her seat and cleared her throat. "Ms. Aerin, to all appearances, he attended with you."

There was a long silence as the other woman processed her words, followed by a snort. "Do you expect me to believe some impersonator managed to fool Riel Syndran into thinking she was me for several hours?!?!"

"Not for hours," Xaeryn corrected. "A few minutes for the drive to the gala, and then a short chat every so often throughout the evening. Mingling's the point of such an event, from my understanding. And at one point when I was chinning with him he mentioned 'you' were bustling about as if the gala was your responsibility instead of the museum's."

"That is the sort of thing I would do," Ms. Aerin sighed. "Still, I wonder how she pulled it off. And why."

"Information would be my guess," Xaeryn said. She idly clipped the brooch to her blouse and pulled out her notepad to page through. "My chief suspect is the king of Elinden, who has cultural and religious motives if he is indeed responsible, and at least a few high-placed political connections who could hire or employ someone skilled at disguise. The only motive I could imagine would be nosing around to see if there's information they missed. Or something they need that I have, or if there was worry I was too close on their trail." She flexed her bruised hand, evidence of the answer to that.

"And what would they have learned from your chat with her?"

"From me? That I had talked to Miss Aescar about people who tried to buy, claim, or steal the Torch. And that my notepad had been stolen. Nothing they didn't know already."

"They knew about the notepad?" Ms. Aerin said, arched brow in her voice.

"Oh, right." Xaeryn explained the reasoning behind that belief, the words trailing off as she reached a particular note from her inaugural meeting with Briony and Darius. She stared at it a moment, then decided to take a shot in the dark. "Ms. Aerin, did you go to the museum to oversee the arrival of the artefacts?"

"That was the plan," Ms. Aerin replied. "However, there were a couple... issues that arose requiring my attention, so I had to leave before they were done."

Got you. Despite the nagging sensation still growing at the base of her skull, Xaeryn smirked. "Thank you. Enlightening as this conversation has proven, was there a reason you were trying to reach me? I have a couple time-sensitive angles to investigate..."

"Just looking for an update; we hadn't heard from you yet today and Mr. Syndran is getting restless at how long things are dragging out."

"Believe me, I share his disapporval of that," Xaeryn said, running a finger over the notepad page. "I'm highly motivated to change it, and hopeful one of the new angles will bear significant fruit."

"Very well then, I'll leave you to it. Good day, Miss Shrike."

"Good day." The nagging grew stronger as she dropped the telephone back in its cradle. She was missing something, something right in front of her, and she couldn't help but feel it was something vital.

Deep breath and half a step back, she told herself. If Ms. Aerin hadn't stayed to oversee the whole delivery at the museum, and she knew from Darius and Ferrin's accounts nothing happened to the couriers' caravan on the way through the city, then it seemed clear the Shifter masqueraded as her to get access once the delivery arrived but she'd left. Xaeryn pulled out the photograph of Solimer's Torch. It wasn't even the size of her palm; easy to conceal in a handbag or pocket--or your blouse if you were feeling bold.

I know how they did it. The adrenaline rush at that victory was somewhat dulled by knowing these people--smart, bold, and desperate--had Red.

The Shifter had probably been emboldened by her success at the delivery--faking bad humor so people were glad to be rid of you was one off the oldest tricks in the book. Enough to attempt something more daring, like copying Aerin again for the gala--

Xaeryn sat bolt upright in her chair, the nagging turned to gut-wrenching revelation as pieces clicked. There was one more thing the Shifter had learned from her at the gala.

Red was the only other person who could read her shorthand.

Nausea twisted and she almost tasted her lunch again. It really was her fault. She'd relayed the damning information to the culprits with blithe ignorance.

And now that she knew, and was recalling the encounter with a more critical eye, all the clues seemed blatantly obvious. The chillier manner, the repeated 'Detective Shrike' rather than 'Miss', the vague prodding at topics they had already discussed.

Self-flagellation later, tracking down Red now, she scolded. The one silver lining to realizing her gaffe was that if they had abducted Red for such a purpose, they'd need him alive, conscious, and (mostly) unharmed.

The swift counter to that--and extreme incentive to hurry--was she had no idea how far they'd go to make him cooperate. Or what they wanted from her notes. Or if they would believe what he claimed about their contents.

There was not, however, any doubt in her mind what would happen once they had what they wanted.

She needed to talk to Thieves Guild. Now.

Xaeryn pushed away from the desk with vigor, only just remembered to lock up the case paraphernalia, and headed out the door, determined steps carrying her toward Ashtown.

---

She'd wound her way through the streets and was just in sight of the cat graffiti outside the Guild's warehouse when movement raked her peripheral vision and a lanky figure dropped off a low roof nearby.

"You're sure gettin' easy with navigating our streets, Miss Shrike," Chase said with a grin, shoving his hands in his pockets. Dust or dirt smeared the sleeve and front of his dark red shirt, and his green eyes twinkled as he examined her. "Quite the skill for a proper lady to develop; people will talk."

"An excellent memory is actually quite a useful skill to refine as a detective," Xaeryn corrected. "I need to speak with you."

"Oho, straight to the point." He was still grinning. "This about the deal you made with Ari?" One hand came out of the pocket to gesture toward the warehouse door.

"Yes." She gripped her handbag tightly more out of urgency than concern. "I wanted to talk about the terms."

"Changing them on us already?" Chase made a tsking sound as he turned into a room, smaller than where they'd spoken before, more of an office. "Not wise to play around with Thieves Guild, sunshine."

Xaeryn grit her teeth. Miss Shrike. But it wasn't worth it. "Not... changing in any way meant to be detrimental or unfair to you," she said, taking a seat when he offered. "You know I'd asked your people to keep an eye for anything hinky. I was wondering what the trade off would be for more closely examining a smaller area."

"So, rather than a general 'let me know if anything weird happens on your turf', you want us to poke around part of it for something specific?" Chase sat behind what approximated a desk as he spoke--planks balanced atop crates--and put his feet up.

"Yes. What change would that bring to our bargained price?"

He smirked and played with one of his rings, studying her face with a keen look in his eyes. "Well, seeing as we've already made a pretty lyss off you, which I'm sure you'll at least partly claim as a business expense, so Merchants Guild foots the bill" --he gave a Cheshire grin at the thought--"I don't want any more of your money."

She arched a brow. "No?" The hair prickled at her nape.

Chase slid a knife free of its boot sheath and stared at the blade nonchalantly. "No, I think for this I want a favor." His eyes flicked to hers. "Regardless of if we find what you're after."

"Accepted, but I won't do anything illegal," Xaeryn said without a beat of hesitation.

"Darling, this is Thieves Guild," he drawled, his grin unwavering under piercing green eyes.

"And I"m certain there's at least a few legitimate things you can think of to ask me," she countered. "Nothing. Illegal." She'd square anything else between her and the One-God, but she wasn't going to jeopardize her livelihood doing something that would turn the police fully against her. She was already sort of a grey area to them. If push came to shove, she'd look for Red and the Torch herself.

"If it has to be on the up, then two favors," Chase said. He was studying her with narrowed eyes and it made her wonder what he saw.

She didn't feel like playing games to get an answer out of him, however. "One regardless, two if you're successful. I'm interested now in just the south-eastern quarter, near the wall in particular. Looking for a building that's being used to stash at least one stolen artefact and a... captive. But before you shift into that, did your people see anything from the more general assignment?"

"Twiggy blonde in the northeast part of the district, just hanging around." He waggled his brows. Xaeryn knew as well as he did people did not loiter in Ashtown for their health. "But she didn't do anything much; lingered and left, so I'd wager she got dusted on by whoever was s'pposed to meet her."

It didn't seem relevant, but she filed it away nonetheless. "Thank you. I'll be checking soon to see if you've found anything with the narrowed area."

"Anxious, are we?" Chase said with a knowing smile. "And could I get a description of this 'captive'? In case we see them, we should know if it's the right person, wouldn't you say?"

"He's tall, red hair, green eyes, street clothes sans jacket and perhaps tie." He didn't always wear one. "I'm not sure how they've been treating him, so he might be roughed up." She stood. "And this is a time-sensitive case that has already drug out longer than desired, so perhaps I am a bit anxious for its conclusion."

"Hopefully we'll find something that can help with that goal." He swung his feet down. "Be seein' you, Miss Shrike."

"You certainly will, Chase." She made her way outside, blinked through the dim-to-bright shift again, and briefly considered poking around herself before deciding to return to her office. Perhaps scrying on Red directly would work this time... If she could just see him, it would help the worry gnawing in her chest. No matter how dire the straits.

---

It did not work. Still nothing. Xaeryn hated feeling powerless at the best of times, not being able to do anything now, with Red in harm's clutches, was pure torture. It was getting harder and harder to fight off the frantic, paralyzing dread as each avenue she explored dropped a dead end in her path. She even got desperate enough to poke around the king's hotel, but that, too, came up empty.

She wasn't truly hungry, but when dinner time came she didn't have anything else to do except pray and go over notes again. Wait for Briony or Darius to reach out, if they would have cause. So she fixed something small and made herself eat. She didn't taste a bite.

To keep herself from pacing a hole in the floor, she decided to give scrying with the earring one more shot. Third time's the charm, wasn't that the saying?

Yes, she was getting a headache from scrying so much in one day. (Or trying to.) No, she didn't care if it would let her find Red before something happened to him.

There was a sense of last-ditch finality to this attempt as she prepared. Logic would dictate giving up if it failed to produce result again. Xaeryn wasn't sure she could be logical about this.

She pinched the earring between her thumb and first two fingers, focused on the bronze scrying disk, and sent up a prayer. One-God, please.

The surface wavered, clouded, cleared on an image. A lightning bolt of desperate relief seared through her and she almost lost the scry before focusing greedy attention on what she could see. A tall man, well built, with silvery-white hair. She strained her concentration until pain lanced her temples and could make out the Ket tattoo on his wrist and earring the match of the one she held in his ear. The background was fuzzy, but she got the sense of generic grandeur, like a ritzy hotel. Another figure stepped into the bounds of her scry--King Kaza Ackshin.

Xaeryn struggled to keep her breathing steady as hope nipped at her soul. A solid connection.

There was another silhouette at the edge, just a shadow, but it might've been Briony. The posture and ponytail looked right.

Her subject--Heron, she'd guess--and King Kaza were exchanging words, which the silent nature of scries meant she didn't catch, and their positioning made it hard to read lips. But it was clear from body language they were preparing to leave. The toll was too much and the scry faded as the figures headed out of the room.

Xaeryn's heart pounded with adrenaline and exertion in equal share as she sat back.

A lead. Oh, blessed God above, she had a lead. They were heading somewhere, the gamble was if it was where she wanted to find or something unrelated.

She was on her feet and halfway across the room before she remembered her promise to Darius. If Briony was with King Kaza, did that count as one of them knowing? Did she really have time...

Xaeryn groaned, turned back the desk, and called the place Darius had said he was staying. No, "Mr. Thrace" wasn't in, did she want to leave a message for him? Deep breath through her nose. "Tell him to meet his snooper friend by the Ashtown gate. She's not going to wait for him long." She hung up before the desk clerk could respond.

If she hustled, she could pick up the king's entourage at the gates and follow. If that's where they were going. If it wasn't, she'd be out of the office, should anyone try to reach her, and miss a vital update.

She had to follow this. To be so close, have this dropped almost literally in her lap...

What she'd seen of King Kaza's expression was eager--he was looking forward to wherever this would lead. That thought alone tipped the balance. There was only one course of action for her and she knew it.

Xaeryn didn't even bother with a hat this time. She only grabbed her handbag because it held her dagger, and if she'd chosen correctly, she would likely need it.

Please let me be right. Please let him be alright. There was no way to ensure someone knew what she was doing--she really should get a secretary--so she'd just have to hope. Hope Briony was truly along, or Darius wasn't out long to get her message, or something. This might very well be the culmination of her case, and all she cared about was saving her friend.

"Nothing. Happened."

"Did you want it to?"

Her hands were shaking as she locked the drawer, locked the door, and hurried toward the Ashtown gates, thoughts on Red and a fervent prayer in her heart.

[ari-zonia]

Limbus Company "World of DnD Identities"

More thoughts of this weird AU me and my friends developed after a long discussion of shitposting (aka we were just shooting the shit for a while)

Reference this post for more

Main joke of this AU is all of these guys (Sans Ishmael) are immigrants to the US and live in New York

Yi Sang: Head researcher at a Med-Tech company. He's under 50 thousand NDAs so he's not allowed to talk about work at the table and doesn't feel like it anyway. Often overworked and spends what little time he has off writing poetry. Probably has a pet crow he nursed as a hatchling. Work pays enough he lives on his own, but you wouldn't believe it based on the lack of food at home.

Faust: Freelance worker or high-security tech manufacturer, or both. Shares an apartment with Ishmael and Outis. Whenever pressed about work she ignores the question and elects to remind everyone they're trying to play a board game. Should honestly be a DM but prefers playing characters that know everything so she can be condescendingly coy.

Don Quixote: Theater major who lives in an on-campus apartment with Sinclair. Her classes are super spaced out so she ends up with a lot of free time. Major con nerd and her room is packed with merch she's bought (especially commissions). Has a dedicated sewing room instead of a dining room. How she affords all this is a mystery. Attends a LOT of Broadway shows, and has introduced Rodion to them.

Ryōshū: Traditional art major who lives out of an abandoned warehouse she found and uses as a studio. Actually is constantly skipping classes but somehow hasn't been kicked out yet. Doesn't sell any of her art but that's because everyone's disgusted by it being made out of pig's blood 90% of the time. Where is she getting all this blood? Why pig's blood? She says its because she'd run out of her own. No one knows if she's serious, or needs help. Lots of anecdotes of how Japan is different from the US, especially with holidays or food. Has lots of photos of Halloween costumes she's made for herself. Again, mostly with fake or pig's blood. Something is seriously wrong with her.

Meursault: Works in an international company as a businessman. Lives alone in a small studio to cut company costs during his stay since he doesn't require much room to live in. There was an incident at work so he's not able to go into the office and is constantly in and out of court proceedings. He's not able to discuss what happened, or even if he was involved. Doesn't talk much about himself either. (Everyone swears they don't even know his first name). How he was convinced to come play tabletops is generally a mystery because he's never played before in his life. They think he's enjoying it, because at least he's paying attention.

Hong Lu: He sorta just showed up one day, hanging out with Sinclair. He has a million stories of home, but nothing about the government or anything like that. Lives alone on money from his family but otherwise doesn't work so he ends up just wanting something to do, so he hangs with these guys.

Heathcliff: English in the way that he's from Hong Kong. According to official paperwork, he's not here. Actual story is he was a stowaway on the last vessel Ishmael was on while they were docked in Liverpool. Says he's a government agent, but for who? Also wanted by Interpol and is a bit of a drifter. Legally does not exist because he doesn't have a last name (according to him, wife took it when she died. How much of that statement is true, no one knows). Rooms with Gregor because he can afford it, but only Gregor can sign the paperwork. Always has a new story that invokes more questions of who the hell he even is. Things like "I'm banned from entering Hokkaido", "You know how easy it is to sneak into Switzerland from Lichtenstein?", or the like. Also apparently not to be within a hundred miles of the president. The one friend with a Costco membership, and has bought a lot of weird shit.

Ishmael: Former marine that hated the military life but loves the sea. Often flips between sailing for journalism or marine biology. Not many other qualifications otherwise. Rooms with Faust out of necessity because she's so far away all the time it's hard to keep an apartment by herself. Quite disgruntled she's the reason Heathcliff showed up because she failed the inspection for stowaways, apparently. Only noticed after he drank half the Guinness they picked up. Has a lot of stories from her life on the water. Generally doesn't have a lot of money, so she appreciates how much food gets brought to game night.

Rodion: Absolutely elated with being here. Still working on her accent and figured she'd get better with conversing by playing tabletops. She was wrong, her vernacular is now full of memes. Spends most of her time working casino floors ("professionally"). Basically lives in her hotel room like a princess. Seems to know the most useless of information about her group (Sinclair's shoe size, Faust's bra cup, Hong Lu's inseam length, etc). If asked if she'd ever visit home she vehemently denies it, she's content with all the fun things available to her.

Sinclair: Says he's taking a year or two off school and works part-time. Doesn't seem to need to work, but it gives him something to do apparently. Considering going into school for finance or something ("like my dad was", he often says). Really quiet but appreciates the company. Sometimes gets nagged to translate Faust when she starts talking German with Gregor but he barely understands her sometimes, her accent is different.

Outis: Served her time in the military and is currently retired. Works several odd jobs to keep herself busy rather than make money, at least help Faust and Ish pay rent. Weird old lady of the group, about as mysterious as Meursault and Heathcliff. Most of the work she did is still classified so she's not at liberty to discuss it. Though, she still carries her mannerisms from her active duty.

Gregor: Also served in the military (same deployment as Outis but different unit so they didn't know each other), he was honorably discharged after a massive injury to his right arm. Currently works retail but spends more time on workman's comp than working (something always seems to be happening to his right arm between fractures and other injuries). Eternally grateful to Heathcliff's bank account giving him someplace to live. Usually last pick for food runs because of how often he buys too much deli meat (especially after the 15lbs of brisket incident at Passover).

Dante: New DM that met Vergilius by chance. Don't really know that's going on, has barely played DnD at all and still chose to DM this stupid group. Definitely tries to limit the group to only five active participants a week, but there was an incident where all twelve had open slots for a while. They regretted it highly. Convinced Vergilius to stack the loot table with revival items so the group didn't need to make new characters EVERY session or two. Though, that's come at the price of them losing self-preservation tactics.

Vergilius: Veteran DM that has a frankly insane amount of books (he's been collecting for years) and takes his role very seriously. He was the one to convince Dante to have a maximum of five players a week, until the incident, then he started throwing insane challenges at all of the players to punish them for throwing the game off track so many times. Soft spot only for Charon and allows her to come up with combat encounters (she once suggested three silver dragons)

Charon: Vergilius' daughter. She doesn't play, or even care about DnD. All she does is suggest more and more stupid encounters to kill everyone with because it's funny. All food runs must pay a Charon Tax (aka she gets her own snacks no matter what).

[maxbruiser]

more COI au sans

I figured I would draw more if I drew a little less refined

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

AU Fics (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

all i want (ao3) - lourrygum michael/luke E, 15k

Summary: Luke is a camboy and Michael has to have normal conversations with him like he didn't watch him come untouched just last night

Or, Lush isn't Luke's only place of employment, Calum is falling in love with the curly haired dork that comes in to his coffee shop on a daily basis and Michael's going to stop watching Luke's videos soon, he swears.

Beginnings (ao3) - thenewbrokenscene michael/luke M, 45k

Summary: [College/University AU] Michael Clifford was a sophomore transfer student, trapped living in the dorms again after a technicality dropped him back down to freshman status. He had requested a single room, determined to focus on his school work, get out of university housing as quickly as possible, and start his real life, but of course, on August 1st he received the obligatory "Get to know your new roommate this summer! You can contact Luke Hemmings, freshman student, at his school email..." message in his inbox.

Whatever. Let's just get this year over with.

Boys Only Want Love If It's Torture (ao3) - aalexandravictoriaa Michael/Luke, Ashton/Calum M, 57k 

Summary: Luke and Michael meet at college and getting to know Michael is the best and worst thing Luke has ever done.

burnt eggs & broken promises (ao3) - kingscrossinseptember luke/ashton, background michael/harry, background michael/ashton G, 4k

Summary: Ashton's always found his roommate, Luke, nothing but aggravating, but when they make a deal where Ashton has to pretend to be Luke's boyfriend for a night, his opinion starts to shift slightly...

Coy Fish - @daydadahlias​ (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) calum/ashton E, 19k

Summary: “Please don’t fuck our yoga instructor.” Michael massages his forehead, eyes squinting shut. “We’ll lose our discount.”

But that certainly won't keep Calum from trying.

Crossfire (ao3) - cthink michael/calum, luke/ashton N/R, 9k

Summary: Today was the day. There was no going back on the plan now. After months of preparation, they were finally going to escape. They were finally going to be free.

Or an apocalypse au where Ashton, Calum, Michael and Luke escape a corrupt containment camp only to find that the world outside is so much worse. Based on the song Crossfire by Stephen.

hello, hello (ao3) - bellawritess luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 30k

Summary: For one long, blinking minute, Luke stares at Ashton and wonders if he’s hallucinating. Because that’s definitely Ashton. That’s Ashton Irwin, his former best friend from Sunny Days, the show they co-starred on as children.

But it’s also definitely Ashton Fletcher, professional film actor worth many millions, possibly hundreds of millions, of dollars, standing on his doorstep, wind ruffling his hair.

if i knew from the start, would it change a thing? (ao3) - acetominophen luke/ashton N/R, 35k

Summary: "All I painted was you, Ash. It was always you." But Ashton wasn't listening to him at all. His silver-lined eyes were trained on the hand-written words at the bottom of the canvas, unblinking.

Luke's gaze followed his and his lips parted because shit, he'd forgotten. He'd forgotten that he'd titled this one.

'Poisoned myself again. LH'.

Artist!Luke Cowboy!Ashton

if you're going to san francisco (ao3) - HeyHeyArnold, mukelftv ot4 M, 10k

Summary: In 1970s San Francisco, a rally brings together four somewhat unlikely friends. This is their story.

Jumping before the Gunshot has Gone Off (ao3) - tigerlily_sunshine michael/luke, calum/ashton, luke/louis E, 128k

Summary: (In which Michael’s hated Luke since they met, and Luke’s hated him back—except, somehow, they can’t stop having sex with one another. To make matters worse, Luke is dumb enough to go and fall in love with the man who hates him.)

Lullaby (ao3) - thesaltyspice calum/ashton N/R, 4k

Summary: Calum hosts an anonymous radio show and Ashton is obsessed

Mixology (ao3) - dafeedil luke/ashton, michael/calum E, 23k

Summary: In which Michael is reeling from a recent breakup, Calum has just flunked a semester of university, Luke has never taken a risk in his life, and Ashton has taken too many.

One night, four boys, one Los Angeles bar. A recipe for...well, quite possibly, not disaster.

(or, they all meet at a bar and fall hopelessly in love for the night. Only, it's actually a lot more than that.)

Playing With Chemistry (ao3) - fourdrunksluts michael/ashton, luke/calum E, 17k

Summary: It's the busiest week of the year at the escape room Ashton manages, and it's hard enough without Michael Clifford tempting him at every turn.

Scene 14 - @daydadahlias​​ (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/ashton E, 128k

Summary: It's one of the first lessons you learn. There’s a difference between performing and acting.

Actors are intellectuals; they’re poets with their expression and the way their voices hit the air. Performers, by comparison, are children, ignorant and too bright for their own good. No one wants to admit to being only a performer. If you’re anyone worth anything, you want to be an actor.

And Luke is not an actor, but Ashton is.

Or, the one where Luke hates Ashton but has to pretend to be in love with him for five months for his acting final except for the fact that maybe he isn't pretending anymore.

Survivor's Guilt - @daydadahlias​​ (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) calum/ashton T, 9k

Summary: No one's left but the three of them. Just Ashton, Calum, and his tiny yappy dog.

Oh, and all the zombies, obviously.

takeoffs and landings (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/ashton T, 7k

Summary: It’s been Monday for an entire week. This might sound like an exaggeration. Like something Ashton would say to Calum after a long day at work. But it’s really just Ashton’s life right now.

***

a time loop soulmate au.

That's Money, Honey (ao3) - senioritastyles luke/calum, ashton/ofc E, 22k

Summary: "Excuse me?" Calum calls, gesturing for the bartender and waiting for him to come over before continuing. "Who is that, over there? The boy on stage."

Michael doesn't even have to look, already smiling and nodding as he tops off Calum's already half-gone whiskey. "That's Luke." Michael explains and Calum nods, sipping at his whiskey again as he watches Luke dance, body swaying fluidly in front of several men dressed pretty similarly to how Calum is. "He tends to attract the uh, black card crowd." Michael says, handing Calum back his own black card.

Or: Calum makes Luke his sugar baby.

there’s no need to run and hide (when the world leaves a scar) (ao3) -haveufoundwhaturlookingfor luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 10k

Summary: Luke is a new intern, and he gets along with pretty much everyone he works with. Well, everyone except for Ashton Irwin. Ashton is cold, and doesn’t give him the time of day. Certain events keep on bringing the two together whether they like it or not, and eventually, Luke finds out why Ashton is so cold.

two can play that game (but you win me every time) (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum T, 10k

Summary: When Calum tells people he works at IKEA, people tend to respond enthusiastically. Some of them joke, did you have to learn Swedish?, or make a crack about the meatballs. Some of them ask how many marriages he’s seen end amongst the aisles. Basically, everyone turns into a comedian the moment Calum mentions his job.

walmart sonata (ao3) - kaleidoscopeminds Luke/Calum M, 33k

Summary: Luke shakes his head. He doesn’t really understand Calum. What is this beautiful man doing being sweet and kind to him in the Walmart he works at several times a week? Luke’s life doesn’t include things like this. He just smiles at Calum slightly disbelievingly, it's not like Calum will ever really see him perform. He’s just a hot stranger from his grocery store.

[alexar60]

L’enfant des fées (1)

C’était la première fois qu’il monta dans une automobile. La voiture roula sur des routes de terre au milieu de la campagne du Morbihan. Il ne vit que champs cerclés de buissons et d’arbres. La poussière dégagée par leur passage formait un nuage opaque qui redescendait lentement. Elle fit tousser les paysans rencontrés et qui s’écartèrent face à un engin du diable. L’un d’eux cracha au sol maudissant en même temps les nouvelles inventions de la ville.

Une longue allée séparait le portique du château. Ce n’était qu’un gros manoir fait de granit et dont les fenêtres n’étaient pas assez grandes pour laisser entrer la lumière. Louis observa cette bâtisse pendant que le chauffeur arrêtait la voiture. Puis, Il descendit ; il oublia immédiatement cette sensation de vitesse parce que sa présence en ce lieu n’avait rien d’amusant.

Un domestique ouvrit la porte et demanda la raison de sa visite. En lisant une carte présentée par le policier, il resta coi avant d’obliger Louis à attendre dans le hall. Le jeune homme fut suivi par deux des quatre gendarmes venus en renfort et qui l’attendaient dans le parc du château. La présence de ces cavaliers était-elle indispensable ? Il n’en voyait pas l’intérêt.

Peu après, le valet revint et invita ce monde à le suivre. Ils pénétrèrent dans un salon où une dame d’une trentaine d’année, habillée d’une élégante robe blanche, lisait tranquillement, assise dans un fauteuil Louis XV. Deux enfants jouaient dans la pièce voisine dont la porte demeurait ouverte. Ses yeux fusillèrent les visiteurs des pieds à la tête avant de revenir sur le livre. C’était un livre récent dont Louis avait lu une critique encensée : « Le grand Maulne » d’Alain Fournier.

-          Madame, dit-il. Je ne vais pas aller par quatre chemins. Et si je suis ici, c’est pour…

-          Vous êtes venus pour la chose !

Aussitôt, il fut saisi d’effroi en entendant ce mot : «chose ». Un silence pesant glaça l’atmosphère. Elle tourna une page. Puis elle referma le livre brutalement.

-          Ce roman est d’une niaiserie ! S’exclama-t-elle avant de le dévisager à nouveau.

Dès lors, il se sentit nu. Les militaires reculèrent d’un pas, amplifiant son abandon. Elle demeura muette à l’observer comme un animal perdu. Il fut intimidé par la beauté de son visage, son corps svelte et la grâce de sa démarche. Il imagina la voir sans ce chignon qui cachait la longueur de ses cheveux bruns. Elle se leva pour s’approcher d’une table. Elle attrapa une carafe d’eau avant d’en remplir un verre à pied.

-          C’est au sous-sol. Mais je devine que cette garce de Michelle vous l’a aussi écrit? J’ai bien fait de la congédier.

La servante était bien à l’origine de la lettre alarmant la situation dans le château. C’était une lettre lue et relue, Louis avait même corrigé les fautes d’orthographe. D’un simple geste de la main, elle ordonna au domestique de guider ces intrus. Béatrice Grayo de Kersilly parut plus qu’hautaine, elle était méprisable malgré sa beauté. Aussi, un soulagement s’engouffra dans l’esprit du jeune commissaire lorsqu’ il quitta le salon.

Comme par magie, le couloir s’alluma immédiatement. Louis resta sur ses gardes. Sans fenêtre, tout parut sombre, hostile. Il marchait, hésitant à ouvrir les quelques portes rencontrées…Juste par curiosité. Cependant, il se contenta de suivre l’employé dont la posture droite rappelait un de ses anciens professeurs de collège. A cause de cela, le domestique sembla antipathique aux yeux du policier.

A sa grande surprise, ils descendirent un escalier. Ils s’engouffrèrent ensuite dans une cave. L’air était vicié, presque irrespirable ; Un gendarme qui accompagnait Louis ressentit une pression aux poumons. Toutefois, ils continuèrent d’avancer approchant d’une lumière lointaine. Le valet poussa une porte et entra ensuite dans une pièce meublée.

Il y avait un lit aux pieds et aux bords rongés. Des couvertures mitées recouvraient un matelas dans le même état. Une chaise reposait sous une fenêtre. Sa présence surprit le commissaire parce qu’il pensait être dans un sous-sol. Il réalisa que la maison était à flanc de colline. Louis zyeuta rapidement afin de trouver la raison de sa venue. Effectivement, elle était bien là !

La gamine, assise à même le carrelage, jouait avec une peluche, vulgaire poupée de chiffon à l’effigie d’un animal méconnaissable. Elle observa les hommes qui venaient d’entrer. Elle serra encore plus fort son jouet contre sa poitrine. Et après un court silence, elle regarda le domestique, le seul qu’elle reconnut.

-          Bonjour, dit-Louis. Tu t’appelles bien Jeanne ?

Elle hocha la tête sans  prononcer un mot. La blondinette ne ressemblait pas à sa mère. Ses grands yeux ronds, son nez retroussé, sa grosse tête lui donnèrent un aspect de poupée en porcelaine. Son corps extrêmement maigre présenta les symptômes d’un enfant maltraité. Elle avait sept ans, pourtant, elle paraissait en avoir trois.

-          Ne t’inquiète pas, je suis venu pour t’aider, ajouta-Louis.

Jeanne regarda la main tendue du policier. Elle hésita un moment, puis après avoir croisé le regard assuré du domestique, elle se leva et posa ses doigts sur la paume. Louis voulait sortir au plus vite de cet endroit sordide. Ce n’était pas une chambre pour une petite fille. Il marcha lentement, regarda de temps en temps la fillette qui, continuait de presser la peluche en chiffon contre elle. Le gendarme suivait toujours son supérieur.

-          Ce n’est pas une robe de bourgeoise, lança-t-il à voix basse.

En effet, Jeanne portait une simple tunique grise comme on pouvait trouver dans certains quartiers populaires. Elle marchait pieds nus qui étaient aussi sales que son visage.

-          C’est un cadeau de Michelle avant d’être congédiée, sinon, elle n’aurait pas… murmura honteusement le domestique.

Une fois de retour dans le salon, Louis Macé salua la propriétaire du château. Elle s’était rassise dans son fauteuil, mais en découvrant la petite fille, elle se leva et hurla :

-          Dégagez-ça de ma vue ! Ce n’est pas mon enfant. Qu’elle me rende ma fille ! Je veux qu’elle me rende ma fille !

Soudain, deux autres enfants accoururent. Contrairement à leur sœur, ils étaient très bien habillés. Ils observèrent la scène, leur mère devenue hystérique et leur sœur, les yeux écarquillés, qui ne comprenait rien à ce qu’il se passait.

-          Je vous serai gré si vous faites préparer ses affaires, demanda Louis.

Le visage déjà rouge de Béatrice Grayo de Kersilly sembla éclater. Elle hurla encore plus fort, réclamant qu’on éloigne Jeanne d’elle. La fillette ne comprit rien. Sur le coup, elle accepta de suivre le commissaire. Mais une fois le seuil de la porte franchie, elle lâcha la main de Louis et retourna en courant dans le manoir.

Louis retrouva la gamine enlaçant les jambes de sa mère. Cette dernière devint tétanisée par ce geste affectueux. Son visage était devenu blême, son regard se remplit d’effroi. Elle leva les bras ne sachant que faire comme si on venait de souiller sa robe.

-          Retirez-moi ça ! cria-t-elle en regardant les gendarmes.

L’un d’eux attrapa Jeanne qui pleurait. Elle avait du mal à parler des phrases entières, prononçant correctement un mot sur deux. Ses frères restèrent muets, ne sachant quoi faire. Ils regardèrent leur sœur s’en aller. L’un d’eux posa la main sur l’épaule de l’autre, en signe de réconfort. De leur sœur, il ne restait plus que la poupée de chiffon abandonnée sur le carrelage. Jeanne continuait de sangloter, le gendarme l’installa sur la place arrière de la voiture. Louis monta à côté d’elle. Et après un vif signal, le chauffeur qui attendait sagement, fit un tour de manivelle pour démarrer l’automobile.

Jeanne pleurait toujours, se demandant pourquoi on la séparait de sa mère. En constatant les traces de brûlures sur son bras, Louis connaissait la raison de cette séparation.

Alex@r60 – février 2023

Photo: Hold tight by phatpuppy

[kabbal]

Prête ? 1, 3, 4 (for Rubrum), 7, 12, 23, 29 (pour ta GotG AU), 32, 41, et 49? :3

mais what belphe tant de questiooooons

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Question compliquée, parce que j'ai écris sur une chiée de fandoms. Pour mes fics Kaamelott, qui représentent un peu moins de la moitié de mes fics actuelles, je dirai qu'un bon point de départ est Figures Troubles parce que ça représente bien ma prose et mon style d'étude de personnages.

Pour mon fandom actuel (Call of Duty), The House of Denial est le point de départ de beaucoup de headcanons/réflexions sur cet univers.

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Un certain ton doux-amer, avec des gens qui essaient d'être heureux et y arrivent plus ou moins bien selon les cas. Aussi j

J'adore également explorer le thème de la reconstruction, et également celui du désir (celui-là peut être aussi comique que angsty)

4. What detail in Rubrum are you really proud of?

à par le fait que c'est une des longfics que j'ai réussi à finir? voyons voir..... j'aime bien la tension romantique que j'y ai mis. C'est qualitatif, ça hohoho

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

Ma fic What a bunch of A-holes a plein de petits détails de worldbuilding que je me permet de rajouter sans trop me soucier de si c'est dans le wiki du mcu ou non. ça nous donne la spécialité culinaire de Xandar aka la pomme de mer.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

Pas vraiment. Je suis du genre à garder mes détestations assez longtemps. Il y a eu des choses que j'ai appris à aimer mais c'était toujours des choses que je ne connaissais soit pas, soit sur lesquelles j'étais neutre.

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

Un jour je vais écrire de l'omegaverse et vous serez pas prêts lol

29. What songs would be (or are) on a playlist for the gotg au? Explain your choices if you want!

Réponse facile: si c'est dans la BO des films, c'est dans la fic. Celle du chapitre prochain (que j'ai toujours pas commencé à écrire honte à moi) est Hooked on a Feeling!

32. What’s your ideal fic length to read?

Entre 3 et 10k. Assez pour avoir de quoi se mettre sous la dent, mais pas trop long non plus.

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

Tu m'as envoyée chercher dans mes favoris sur ffnet tu te rends compte

Anyway je vous mets Comédie de la soif de Kandai qui a fondamentalement changé la manière dont j'écrivais quand je l'ai lue 15 ans. Sachez que je dois tout à cette autrice hvjvjvjvvkfxx

49. What are you currently working on? Share a few lines if you’re up for it!

Un gros machin sur un personnage de Call of Duty qui quitte l'armée (énorme AU ici attention) et tente de vivre du mieux qu'il peut dans sa maison en Ecosse. Voilà un paragraphe pas encore publié en exclu:

"Even Johnny had asked. Plenty of times, in fact. Teasing and coy over the comms, pleading in bed, soft and casual on leave. But Johnny’s the outlier in every aspect of Simon’s life ‒ when he’s the one asking, there’s none of the unease and nausea that grips his throat at the idea of ripping himself open. It still feels like exposing a wound, puffy pink flesh laid ripe for the tearing, but some part of him can accept the risk, when it’s Johnny watching him. Maybe it’s because he’s in love with him ‒ or maybe it’s the other way around. Maybe he fell in love because he trusted Johnny first."

[villefrancois]

Pour toi qui aime les histoires d'Amour qui durent, voici PUCE, en version instrumentaleDisponible sur Spotify, Deezer,...- Spotify : https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2mXgaH6n44xgdp0kPFsSLA?si=2494515af8854ad8- Deezer : https://deezer.page.link/zaW9bAZPMEzYxN4F8- Youtube : https://www.youtube.com/@francoisville/releases- Apple : https://music.apple.com/fr/artist/francois-ville/168621381- Amazon : https://music.amazon.fr/user-playlists/3db263839cda4c809742fb67ef3b881dfrfr?ref=dm_sh_265b-20c7-8111-d5dc-30d2c- Tidal : https://tidal.com/browse/playlist/a1241639-3a68-4cb1-a88e-6fc2623568b1- Qobuz : https://open.qobuz.com/playlist/16635747- Boomplay : https://www.boomplay.com/artists/43111387?from=search&srModel=COPYLINK&srList=WEBPUCE !Le désir de sexe primerPuce, est certes comme un virusUne envie d’homo erectusUn moyen  de communiquerMais de là, diantre, à avouerTous mes fantasmes quels qu’ils fussentPuce, il eut fallut que tu sussesAu moins ne pas tant me secouer !En couple, il vaut mieux s’expliquerA bâton rompu, en chorusPourtant je ne suis pas prêt, PuceA déflorer tous mes secretsDemeurer coi peut s’excuserChacun ses coutumes et ses usCauser est un long processusPuce, pour qui est inhibé.De plus, langue en bouche tournéePuce, est un gage anti-lapsusAlors, allons au consensusEt discutons sans nous presserNous aurions dû consommer, maisContre seau d’eau miser PétrusPuce, on la joue roulette russeUn coup est si vite tiréNon ! Je n’ai pas peur de coucher !Je suis pudique et non minus !Que veux-tu, Puce, un infarctus !Cesse alors de me provoquer !Le casus belli déclaréJe me raidis en un rictusPuce, et alors là je dis : susA autant de vulgarité !Tu sais que plaisir est pêchéNe mélangeons pas nos rhésusPuce, avons nous l’air de BacchusEt Vénus, au même banquet ?« Enfer offert aux débauchés !»« Souffrance à hauts degrés celsius !»N’as-tu pas lu ces prospectusPuce, où tout ceci est conté ?D’amour je veux nous sustenterEt nous sentir un peu CrésusEtre abstinent est mon astucePuce, afin de le susciterSoixante ans pour s’exécuterAllez, j’admets, c’est un malusPromis, Puce, avant l’angélusNous nous serons dépucelésPuce, quel pied de l’avoir fait !Et sur le lit et sur l’humusEt te souviens-tu dans ce bus ?Que n’as-tu plus tôt insisté !François VilleTous mes réseaux : https://linktr.ee/francoisville#musique #chanson #amour #humour #cauchemarEnCuisine #topChef #MAPR #starAcademy #SecretStory #maskSinger #starAcademy #spotify #deezer #appleMusic #amazonMusic #youtube #tidal #qobuz #boomplay

[globmedia]

Violence sexuelle

Comment briser le silence

La semaine de la jeunesse s’est déroulée au Cameroun dans un contexte marqué par la dépravation des mœurs en milieu scolaire. Des caravanes ont été organisées à cette occasion pour sensibiliser les jeunes sur les causes et les conséquences de ces déviances.

Les jeunes sont de plus en plus confrontés au problème de violence sexuelle. C’est dans l’optique de limiter ce fléau au sein de la société que des organismes se sont organisés durant la semaine de la jeunesse pour sensibiliser les filles adolescentes sur les dangers auxquels elles sont permanemment exposées. Le projet national Brisons les tabous sous la houlette de coach Lisa Prudy, coach en développement personnel et écrivaine résident aux États-Unis d’Amérique, parrainé par le Ministre de la jeunesse et de l’éducation civique Mounouna Foutsou a déployé des équipes dans les établissements scolaires sur l’ensemble du territoire national pour dire aux jeunes apprenants les risques qu’une jeune élève peut prendre en étant négligente dans un environnement rempli d’hommes sans scrupule, prêts à tout pour détruire la jeune fille tombée dans leurs piège. Cette initiative de haute facture a permis également de les édifier sur l’importance de mettre leurs études en priorité en ne laissant aucune occasion à un prédateur de profiter d’elles pour assouvir son désir sexuel. Ces équipes ont mis le cap d’abord au collège les conquérants où un accueil chaleureux leur a été réservé par les élèves et les enseignants. Ensuite, des échanges se sont effectués entre l’équipe du projet national, brisons les tabous et les apprenants qui se sont dit satisfaits et enrichis des conseils à eux prodigués au sujet de la dépravation des mœurs. « Je suis très contente de votre arrivée dans notre établissement pour nous sensibiliser sur les dangers liés au viol et aux déviances en milieu scolaire. Je vais désormais dénoncer tous ceux qui vont me demander de les suivre pour leur donner mon corps, même si c’est mon enseignant » affirme une jeune élève de la classe de première sous anonymat. Cette mobilisation s’est faite également à l’institut Ngassi de Douala puis au collège Dauphine où les élèves en pleine activité culturelle ont marqué une pause pour suivre les conseils enrichissants de l’équipe du projet national Brisons les tabous. La question de viol est devenue très préoccupante en milieu jeune, étant donné que les violeurs se multiplie au sein de la société et exercent leurs sales besognes sans s’inquiéter des conséquences que cela peut produire à la fois sur la victime et son entourage.

Panisse Istral Fotso

Réaction

Pauline Matchim, Présidente de l’association femmes et enfants.

« Les abus sexuels sont choquants, mais nous travaillons vraiment pour combattre cela afin de protéger la femme et selon les canons des Nations unies. »

La victime doit briser le silence, elle doit venir dénoncer son bourreau. Nous sensibilisons sur les questions de violence sexuelle en milieu scolaire. Nous travaillons également sur les questions de santé sexuelle. Nous encourageons les victimes à venir vers nous. Quand la jeune fille est violée, que ce soit par un inconnu ou pas, on lui donne les réflexes à suivre. La première chose est de se rendre à l’hôpital pour prendre la pilule du lendemain qui est gratuite. Ceci va lui permettre d’éviter une éventuelle grossesse, le médecin va ensuite lui donner les ARV. En ce moment, elle va porter plainte et on peut l’accompagner en fonction de ce qu’elle vit. Il faut développer chez la jeune fille ce réflexe là de se rendre à l’hôpital immédiatement. Parce que si elle arrive 3 ou 4 jours après, la pilule du lendemain n’aura pas sa raison d’être. On sensibilise la jeune fille parce que très souvent, elle se réveille quand elle est déjà enceinte ou malade, or quand elle prend la peine de se rendre à l’hôpital, tout cela est évité et gratuitement. Il est vraiment urgent de sensibiliser la jeune fille, elle ne doit pas rester dans son coin à pleurer parce que le plus difficile c’est après. Si elle se rend compte qu’elle est déjà enceinte, ça devient très compliqué, si elle se rend compte qu’elle a le VIH, qu’est-ce qu’on fait ? alors qu’on aurait pu éviter. Nous encourageons vraiment les jeunes filles à briser le silence. Il est inadmissible que ce soit plutôt la jeune fille violée qui ait honte, il faut qu’on parle pour que ce soit le violeur qui ait honte. C’est un peu ça le changement de paradigme que nous voulons apporter, que la société civile veut apporter, amener le bourreau à avoir honte de ses actes. Et pour ça, la jeune fille doit briser le silence. Très souvent, on ne peut pas savoir quelle est la prévalence de ces viols parce que très peu de plaintes sont portées au niveau des commissariats et gendarmeries. Il n’est pas simplement question de se rendre au commissariat pour dire qu’on a été violé, il faut rédiger des plaintes, c’est ça qui va permettre au commissaire de garder votre bourreau. Ce qui se passe est que certaines personnes préfèrent souvent des arrangements à l’amiable, si vous ne portez pas plainte, sachez que c’est un traumatisme qui va vous suivre à vie. Nous essayons d’accompagner ces jeunes filles pour qu’elles puissent sortir de leur traumatisme. Il en est de même pour toutes femmes victimes de violence basée sur le genre, il faut se faire accompagner par que nous vous apportons une aide psychosociale.

Éléments rassemblés par Panisse Istral Fotso

[dienhoahaihavn]

Lang hoa chuc mung ky niem thanh lap cong ty Phong cach Tay Au

Trong xu thế hiện đại, toàn cầu hóa, phát triển, văn hóa Phương Tây đã rất gần gũi với chúng ta, trong đó, có những phong cách Tây Âu lịch thiệp, sang trọng, rất đáng để học hỏi. Trong việc khai trương, chúc mừng, những lẵng hoa dần được thiết kế theo phong cách tự do, phóng khoáng, thể hiện nét đẹp tự nhiên nhất của những loài hoa, làm cho con người có cảm giác thoải mái, sảng khoái, không bị bó buộc khi nhìn vào lẵng  hoa. Từ đó, Điện hoa Hà Nội – Hải Hà cung cấp cho quý khách mẫu lẵng hoa chúc mừng kỷ niệm thành lập công ty phong cách Tây Âu để khách hàng có thể phong phú thêm lựa chọn của mình.

Lẵng hoa chúc mừng kỷ niệm thành lập công ty phong cách Tây Âu

được thiết kế một theo hướng tỏa gồm các loại hoa được sắp xếp một cách tự do, phóng khoáng, đây là điểm nổi bật của lẵng hoa này so với những lẵng hoa chúc mừng truyền thống khác. Nếu bạn muốn đổi mới không khí, hoặc nhất là tặng khai trương cửa hàng ăn uống phong cách Tây Âu, cửa hàng đồ nhập Ngoại, công ty nước ngoài… của người bạn, người thân, đồng nghiệp, cấp trên, thì lẵng hoa này thật sự phù hợp với những không khí như vậy.

Nhìn vào lẵng hoa chúc mừng kỷ niệm thành lập công ty phong cách Tây Âu, đó chính là cảm giác “trăm hoa đua nở”, thể hiện điềm lành, may mắn, hạnh phúc và an vui. Cầu chúc cho những ai nhận được lẵng hoa này luôn may mắn và hạnh phúc, đường công danh, tiền tài, sự nghiệp thuận lợi:

Làm một mà lại có hai

Có năm có tám nối dài mai sau

Công danh phú quý bền lâu

Tương lai sự nghiệp trước sau đắp bồi

Xin chúc gia đình bạn tôi

Từ nay rộng mở sống đời vinh hoa

Những loại hoa trong lẵng hoa

Hoa cẩm tú cầu xanh được đặt ở trọng tâm của lãng hoa chúc mừng thành lập, được coi như là một loài hoa của sự tròn vẹn, cẩm tú cầu luôn tạo cảm giác đủ đầy, hạnh phúc, trong việc kỷ niệm thành lập công ty, những chùm hoa như muốn nói lên rằng sự thành công của họ qua bao gian nan đã đạt được, “khổ tận cam lai”, giờ đây có thể đầy đủ và hạnh phúc.

Hướng dương màu cam được xen lẫn những màu sắc của hoa hồng trắng, tím tạo nên sự nổi bật của riêng nó, vốn dĩ màu cam đã là nổi bật, nhưng loài hoa màu cam nổi bật nhất chính là hoa hướng dương. Bởi vì sao? Vì hướng dương luôn hướng về Mặt trời, trung tâm của vạn vật, nơi mang ánh sáng đến cho con người.

Vì thế, Hướng dương cũng được coi như là ánh sáng, và sự xuất hiện của những bông hoa hướng dương như làm sáng bừng lên không khí của buổi khai trương, buổi chúc mừng, buổi kỷ niệm. Hơn nữa, nó còn làm cho lẵng hoa thêm màu sắc, thêm nổi bật.

Nhắc đến lẵng hoa mang phong cách Tây Âu, ta không thể bỏi qua loài hoa hồng trắng, hồng tím, hoặc phớt hồng, nó đại diện cho sự nhẹ nhàng và tinh tế, một nét lịch thiệp và sang trọng. Màu sắc này trong lẵng hoa như cân bằng lại những gam màu sáng, tạo đường nét, khối màu hoàn chỉnh, hoàn hảo. Đó là về mặt thẩm mỹ, còn về mặt ý nghĩa, những đóa hoa hồng như muốn nói lên lời chúc thành tâm nhất từ đáy lòng, lời chúc bình yên, hạnh phúc và vui vẻ.

Vì vậy hãy liên hệ hotline để đặt ngay lẵng hoa này nhé!

Nguồn: https://dienhoahaiha.com/san-pham/lang-hoa-chuc-mung-ky-niem-thanh-lap-cong-ty-phong-cach-tay-au/