#Visibility drop due to fog

[umangharyana]

Haryana fog update : हरियाणा में सर्दी का सितम, घना कोहरा और तापमान में गिरावट का अलर्ट

हरियाणा में सर्दियों का आगमन होते ही कोहरे ने अपने असर दिखाना शुरू कर दिया है। मौसम विभाग ने आज, सोमवार, 26 नवंबर को एक महत्वपूर्ण अपडेट जारी किया है जिसमें कहा गया है कि पंजाब, हरियाणा, हिमाचल प्रदेश, दिल्ली, उत्तर प्रदेश और बिहार में घना कोहरा छाया रहेगा। खासतौर पर बिहार के पुर्णिया में विजिबिलिटी घटकर महज 100 मीटर तक रह गई है। हरियाणा के कई जिलों में कोहरे का असर हरियाणा में सोमवार की सुबह…

[jezebelblues]

old records on the shelf | h.s

summary: y/n and harry are holed up in a record store due to inclement weather.

cw: unedited - none (?)

word count: approx 2.5k

super short blurb i wrote during lunch break

masterlist

The rain had been relentless all day. the kind of downpour that turns cities into rivers, umbrellas were useless and the sky never shifts from a slate grey gloom. the storm drains even started to clog ever so slightly, and the ground was just one big shallow puddle. Y/n ducked into the record store just in time as a roar of thunder boomed. Her clothes were damp despite her best efforts, drops of rain still clinging to her sweater and hair. The bell above the door chimed softly as she stepped inside, the warm, dimly lit space a stark contrast to the growing chaos outside.

The store was almost vacant, almost. it was a lofted, building, which allowed her eyes to drift up to a man standing on the second floor with his hoodie pulled over his head, looking at different records front to back. There was also a shorter old man who sat at the front desk, flipping through a quaint book after greeting Y/n with a smile. She hadn’t planned on staying long, but the rain had other ideas. The droplets pelted the glass a bit harder, and if it wasn’t the end of summer she’d assume it was sleet. She maneuvered around the dusty aisles, floorboards creaking with each step as her fingertips feathered across the different records sleeves. She had just moved into a studio after years of saving up for a move to New York, and she desperately wanted all her favorite vinyl albums littered about.

Not finding the genre she wanted labeled on the wooden shelves, she ventured up the spiral stairwell to the second floor, hand barely grasping the handrail. Her sneakers squelched against the metal, a sound she’s grown to hate. Gazing around, her eyes met an oddly familiar seafoam green pair. Their glance was fleeting, but she would recognize this man anywhere. Was she a gigantic fan? No, but she enjoyed his music - and it’s hard to not know who Harry Styles was; given his decade long reign in the spotlight. A baggy grey hoodie hung from his frame, stained with raindrops. his hoodie was pulled up over his head, but he wore a baseball cap underneath - most likely an effort to hide his face, maybe? The tattoo on his knee was visible, and his once pristine white vans were speckled with mud.

She had made a sharp right to the shelves beside her, breaking eye contact first. They were both hiding from the downpour, and she didn’t want to make the atmosphere even more unsettling by gawking. After all, he’s just a human. A low rumble of thunder bellowed, the windows fogging up from the heat inside. Y/n strolled through the aisle, wanting to dry off a bit and make a beeline straight out of the shop. She tried her very best to keep her eyes only on the items around her, but she couldn’t help but sneak a few glances at the brunette. He looked as stranded as she felt, pausing now and then to look out the rain streaked-windows before turning back to the shelves. The soft hum of jazz flowing through the speakers buzzes between the walls, a coziness settling in the air.

Another crack of thunder rattled the windows, and the shopkeeper looked up from his book, frowning at the droplets that pelted down harder. After a beat, he bends the corner of a page and closes the book, clearing his throat. He stepped out from behind the counter, craning his neck upward at the two who stood on the second floor. “Sorry, folks.” He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Closin’ up early. Weathers gettin’ worse, radio said subways flooded - complete mess out there. You can wait he for a while if ya like. Ain’t nobody getting anywhere in that storm.” He informed, his accent thick. “Let me know ‘fore I lock the door.”

Harry’s brow furrowed slightly as his words sunk in, nodding at the old man below them. He shot a slow glance back toward the girl on the other side of the room, trying to decipher if it was a smart decision or not. He looked for any inkling of her being a jittery bundle of nerves, a fan that could make being trapped a bit more claustrophobic. He’d like to think he was good at reading people, and when he found a gaze that seemed as uncertain as he was, he felt his shoulders relax. The city was grinding to a halt outside, and there was no escaping the storm outside. Y/n hesitated before crossing the room, standing next to a window that was closer to Harry than she was. She sighed quietly, her breath fogging the glass.

“Well,” Harry broke the silence, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Seems like we’re stuck.”

She turned her head toward him, managing a small smile. “Guess so.”

He shifted on his feet, glancing back down at the pile of records he’d been browsing. A lopsided grin formed his lips. “Could be worse. Least we got good music to keep us company.”

The shop owner muttered something about going to the back and disappeared, leaving Y/n and Harry by themselves. The jazz played on, mingling with the constant drumming of the rain. The dim lights overhead flickered briefly as the wind stared to pick up. “So,” Y/n paused, hoping conversation could distract her from the mess outside. “Looking for anything specific?” She asked as she took a soft step to continue down the aisle, fingers absentmindedly finding their way back to the spine of the albums.

Harry shrugged, following behind her, mirroring her slow pace. “Jus’ browning, really.” He mumbled, watching her fingers. “Thought I could wait out the rain, suppose not.” He let out a breathy chuckle, which earned a small glance from Y/n. “Are you big on vinyl?”

“A little.” She admitted, sneaking a peek of him through the corner of her eye. “I like coming here to clear my head.”

“Yeah?” His grin widened slightly as he leaned against the shelf behind them. “Sorry for takin’ your spot then.”

The conversation flowed easily after that. They gazed over the rows of shelves together, occasionally pulling out an album and showing their favorite artist. Harry shared small anecdotes about certain records that held sentiment. She would do the same, and she felt surprisingly comfortable in his presence despite the strangeness of their situation.

Harry found himself wandering toward a record player on the first floor toward the back, eyeing the old turntable. “Y’mind?” He asked, nodding toward the table as he held up an album she didn’t immediately recognize. Y/n shook her head, curious to what it sounded like. She watched as he carefully pulled the record from its sleeve, placing it on the turntable, his fingers brushing the edge of it with ease. There was a low crackle as the needle hit the grooves, followed by the smooth voice of Otis Redding.

A familiar melody filled the room while Harry leaned back against the counter, arms folded over his chest as he listened, a smile spread across his lips. “Not bad for a stormy night, eh?”

She laughed, nodding. “Could be worse.” She echoed, repeating his earlier words. The record continued to spin as the mood shifted into something quieter, Harry humming a line here and there. His voice was honey. They stood side by side, an unspoken understanding settling between them as they soaked in the moment.

Their hips would occasionally bump into each other if a beat of the song was repetitive enough, and goofy smiled pasted itself on both their lips each time. It felt easy, like the sun shone in the record store alone. “S’like time slowed down.” Harry mumbles, his voice smooth and quiet - almost harmonizing with the music.

She turned to look at him, eyebrows raising slighting in agreement. She hummed, nodding her head before gently bumping her hip into his again - which earned a smile from Harry. “City won’t let you catch your breath unless it forces you to.”

He laughed under his breath, absentmindedly fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. “Y’right. S’like everything moves so fast, but when it stops…” He paused, gesturing around them. “It’s kind of nice.”

Y/n’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. There was something calming about his presence, an easy charm that floated around him like an aura. They were just two strangers, trapped by circumstance.

The shop owner shuffled back in, glancing at the two of them before nodding in approval to the music playing. He didn’t say much - just grunted and went back to his book, leaving them to stay in their bubble a bit longer.

The fourth song on the album stated to fade into its end, and the girl tilted her head toward the records they browsed earlier. “What else have you got?” She asked playfully, her gaze gentle.

He grinned, eyes twinkling. “Plenty.” He paused, rummaging through the nearby stack, fingers moving swiftly as he flipped through the albums. He chuckled to himself as he pulled out a pink cover, Harry’s back front and center on it as he flipped it over to show her. His smile was contagious as he held up his first album next to his head, simple poking through. “Thoughts?”

She couldn’t help but mirror his smile, recognizing the cover as his own. She feigned a confused look, eyebrows furrowed as she sent him a shrug. “Heard of him.”

He laughed, shaking his head and putting the album back down with the rest. “Looks like a wanker.” He smiled, accent thicker than before. He finally settled on Stevie Knicks, letting the needle settle over it and crackle into a song. The notes were soft, her rasp entrancing. “Dance with me?” His voice resembled cotton candy, an edge of anxiety to it.

She raised her eyebrows, smiling at him. “Do you even know my name?”

His lips press into a flat line as he pulled his hood down, adjusting the ballcap that sat on his curls. His cheeks flushed a shade of pink as he smiled, “Tell me your name.”

“Y/n”

The brunette rolled his sleeves up ever so slightly, stepping aside and extending his hand out to her. “Dance with me, Y/n.” Her name rolled effortlessly off his tongue, and a part of him hoped it wouldn’t be the last time he could say it. Her face scrunches, a mix of confusion and amusement as she places her hand into his much larger one. His movements are slow and calculated, pulling her close but not too close, swaying with the melancholic rhythm. She exhaled, soft and gentle, the tips of her shoes touching Harry’s as she inched closer. He smelt of lavender, and the rain on his hoodie only made the scent of laundry detergent radiate from him. It was quiet, comfortable and Harry swore he hadn’t felt so transfixed on someone so quick before.

“You ever get tired of it?” She thought out loud, leaning her head back a bit to fall into his gaze. It was delicate, and his features fluttered into an expression to urge her to continue. A stubble peppered the top of his lip, a crease in his forehead and a lock of hair dangling from the corner of his cap. He could be cut and molded from marble. “Of the attention, I mean.”

Harry blinked, his movements stalling as he thought about her question. He lowered his hand to her waist - barely. His touch was a whisper, fingertips only grazing the fabric of her sweater, his palm hovering over the curve of her hip. “It can be overwhelming.” He whispered, his breath a cold peppermint. He bit the inside of his lip as his eyes narrowed, taking in every line and angle of her pretty face. “But it’s worth it. ‘specially in-between the spotlight where I can enjoy moments like these.”

Y/n nodded, understanding the measure of his words. She parted her lips to speak, but Harry let out a small giggle, “The calm between the storms.”

She laughed, and Harry could hear her sincerity even though it was a bad joke altogether, but maybe that was the humor she found in it. Her fingers wriggled in his light grasp, brushing her hands up his arms to lazily wrap behind his neck. Goosebumps appeared on his skin, and he internally cursed at whatever God there was for letting the rain ease up. It faded into a drizzle, and the darkened sky started to lighten into a grey. A pang of disappointment hit them both as they realized the storm couldn’t last forever, and their bubble was meant to burst eventually. She slowly pealed herself from him, a sheepish grin on her lips as she looked back outside. For a moment, they stood there, locked in the reality that this was a fleeting moment - an unexpected connection - was about to slip away as easily as the droplets did. “Don’t think we’re stuck anymore.”

Harry nodded, a sigh falling from his lips as he removed the record from the turntable and placed it back into its sleeve, organizing the pile to sit neatly. He could hear the floor creak as she began to move, and his words fell from his lips before he could stop himself. “Do this again with me?”

Her heart skipped a beat, surprised and hopeful. She smiled, turning around to face him. His expression reminded her that of a schoolboy, and she couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you asking me out, Harry Styles?” Her voice held a lightness despite a familiar flutter in her belly.

He chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. “If you’ll let me.” A smile spread upon his lips. “Maybe next time we can plan for better weather - though I won’t complain if it rains again.”

She felt a warmth spread through her, pins and needles in the tips of her fingers. “I’d like that.” She nodded, smile matching his.

He nodded toward the shopkeeper as they ambled out the door, holding the door open for the pretty girl behind him. His lip tucked between his teeth, the breeze light and airy as he pulled the hood over his head. “Um-“ He mumbled nervously, reaching his hand into his pocket and unlocking his phone. But Y/n already took one of his hands into hers, palm upward as she delved into her tote with the other hand, pulling out a pen that’s been in there for god knows how long. She scribbles her number onto his palm, ending it with a smiley face.

His hand still tingled, and his eyes crinkled from the smile he couldn’t wipe off. “What if it smudges?” He calls out, Y/n already beginning to walk the direction back to her apartment.

She turns, her grin almost as wide as Harry’s as she continues her trek, but backwards and slower than before. “You’ll know where to find me!”

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

LOOK AT YOU

KINKTOBER DAY 8 - MIRROR SEX WITH ROBERT FISCHER

Pairing - Robert Fischer x fem!reader

Summary - Robert likes to have you look at your-filthy-self whenever he takes you.

Warnings - Dubcon, degrading, mean Robert, brat taming, dirty talk.

Word count - 1.5k

The sweat on your skin was clearly visible as you shamefully watched yourself getting pounded from behind through the ensuite mirror. The glass was fogging up, your eyes blurred by the high state of pleasure. Your slippery hands gripped onto the edge of the bassinet as you moaned out in ecstasy. The pair of you were stripped naked, skin heated from your engagement in physical activity.

“Look at yourself, always so desperate for my cock like a little whore…” Robert grunted from behind, his blue eyes locked onto yours through the reflection.

Your walls naturally squeezed around him. It was your guilty pleasure for him to verbally degrade you. An eccentricity that you never knew you craved until you met Robert.

“Yes Robbie” you whimpered, grinding your ass back to get as much sensation as physically possible.

“Can never fucking wait…” Robert hissed as he slapped your ass to hear you yelp out. “Always so needy, I have a business to run, y’know?” He cocked an eye to you, speaking in a concerningly stable tone as his hips continued to snap into you.

“M’sorry… I know you do” you half asked your apology, far to distracted by your waves of pleasure to pay attention to what he was saying.

“I give you so many privileges, but it’s never enough… You didn't even bother to ask how my day was. Too busy crying over the denial of my cock” Robert tutted.

When you woke up in the morning, you were horny. The toys Robert brought you never matched the power of his dick. So you spent the whole day reckless, counting down the minutes on the clock for him to come home. The moment Robert returned, you pounced on him like a tiger. But when he shooed away your advances, you broke down into tears. Desperately begging him for his cock, your arms were wrapped tightly around his leg until he gave in. The look of dissatisfaction on his perfect face went unnoticed by you.

It took you far too long to even realize what he was saying. When he slowed down his thrusts and focused on making them rather painful for you, you gulped and tried to put his words together like a puzzle piece.

“I-uh… H-how was your day?” You eventually spat out, tilting your face up to look at him in the mirror, your eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to take control over your breathing.

“Fucking shit” Robert snapped, his fingernails dug into the skin of your hips.

“I’m sorry!” You mewled, his cock pushing in as far as physically possible.

Robert spat out, dropping his eyes onto the curves of your ass as he focused on fucking you dumb. You hissed out, your legs wobbling like jelly as you struggled to stay up.

“Your whining is inflaming, can’t you just shut up for once?” Robert snapped.

“I can try” you whined, biting onto your lower lip in hopes to satisfy him.

Robert exhaled out, his cock falling still inside of you. His voice dropped so low that you almost didn’t hear what he said.

“How are you going to react when I leave tomorrow?” Robert asked blankly.

You quickly turned your body around, his length falling out of your slippery hole.

“What- But… I thought I was coming?” you shuddered, blinking like flashes of lighting as you fel your eyes swell up.

“Not anymore” Robert exhaled, tilting his head down to you.

Your lower lip trembled as you began to blubber.

“Robbie no! Please take me with you!” you sobbed, covering your chest due to the wave of humiliation.

“No, no…” Robert sighed, shaking his arms at the idea of that. “You’re clearly too desperate for my cock… I can’t afford to have you distract me, sweetheart. It’s an important work trip for me love” Robert explained.

It was only five days, but nevertheless, you had become so in routine with seeing him every single day. So needy and attached to Robert after only a few months of dating him. He was your perfect match, he knew it too. He loved having someone bend in humanly impossible ways for him. Liked to see how dedicated you truly were to him. Yes, your neediness certainly got on his nerves, but he couldn’t help but to also get so riled up from it.

But the paranoia and anxiety was a thunderstorm in your mind. There will be plenty of women throwing themselves at him. What if he goes off sleeping with others. Even worse, what if he falls for another woman?

Robert had never given you any suspicions for infidelity, his devilish eyes always locked onto you. No matter how badly another woman would try to steal his focus away. But you couldn’t help but to always feel subconscious that one day he would let you go. Your only leverage was ever your compelling looks and well, sex. He was the breadwinner, he had all of the assets, you were just his shiny trophy to show off.

“Where are you going off to?” Robert frowned as you rushed out of the ensuite.

“Somewhere else” you sniffled as you picked up your robe and slid it on quickly.

There was nowhere you couldn’t really hide off in his penthouse.

“What?” Robert snorted, shaking his head as he followed you. As you reached out to open the bedroom door, his hand slammed onto the wood. His nostrils flared but Robert was smirking at you. “You were just so desperate for my cock! What’s wrong now?” He sarcastically pouted at you.

“I’m not in the mood anymore” you weeped heavily.

Robert wrapped his arms around your waist underneath your robe. As your bodies pressed together, he tilted his head down at you, pursing his lips. Whenever you looked at him with those deer eyes, his cock would have a twitching fit.

“No, you’ve got me all built up now. Come and slide onto my cock again and watch how good I fuck you” Robert ordered, sliding your robe off leisurely.

“Robbie please” you pleaded as he easily pulled you over to the king sized bed.

“You know the rules. You do as I tell you and I treat you like the bratty princess you are” he snarked.

As he petted your ass to encourage you to hop onto the bed, you sighed defeatedly. Obediently, you followed his request and climbed up onto all fours. With his hands guiding you to turn around to face him, Robert stared down emotionlessly at you.

“You do want me to propose one day, don’t you?” Robert sneered through an innocent look.

A blind man would know your answer. Being engaged to Robert was the ultimate fantasy. Having the honor of wearing his last name would be a dream come true. Even though you had been together for such little time, you were twisting and turning on your seat, wishing to be engaged already. Robert had hinted at an engagement, but never so explicitly.

“Yes Robbie” you gulped, completely wordless for a proper response.

“I’ve been looking at rings, but nothing has caught my eye yet. Nothing matches your beauty” Robert whispered, his hand caressingly your heated cheek.

“Really?” You asked, your chest lifting up.

“Yeah… Alright now, look into the mirror, let’s remember how good I fuck you” Robert nodded as he gestured his hand to the floor length mirror in the corner of the room.

His knees sunk into the mattress behind you, hands guiding your cunt to press against the tip of his erection. At ease, his member disappeared into your sweet abyss.

“Can you see how desperate you are for me? Such a pretty face when you moan like a dirty slut” Robert complimented, his mouth hung open as he slowly fucked your pulsing walls.

“Uh-huh” you moaned up, your upper body slowly slipping closer to the mattress as you allowed your spikes of pleasure to fill your mind again.

“Yeah, come on, wrap this up for us… I have an early flight tomorrow, remember?” Robert toyed, snapping your painful thoughts back. Your body shot back up again.

“Please can I come!” You begged, the last sliver of hope slipped off your tongue.

“No” he said sternly.

“I don’t want to be alone here!” you argued, your firm tone was pathetic.

“You’ll have the maids come and go. You can still go out with your friends. But the no bars, clubs or parties rule remains” Robert explained sternly. You whined in return.

It was forbidden for you to attend those places without him. The thought of another man’s eyes lingering on you without him able to protect you angered him with jealously.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll call you every night before bed, okay?” Robert assured, a gleeful smile on his lips. You forced yourself to smile back, his hips picking up place.

“Mhm, and if you leave me the fuck alone on this trip, then I’ll fuck you the whole entire night when I fly back, how does that sound?” He proposed.

“Mhm! Good Robbie!” you moaned out, his tip brushing against your cervix.

“Good, now come on, milk my cock empty then, so I won’t have to miss you so dearly” Robert grinned as he felt himself twitch harshly inside of you.

[semisgroupie]

TWO BIRDS OF A FEATHER

nerdy perv!armin arlert x perv!fem. reader

wc: 2.2k

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of panty stealing and panty sniffing, handjob, armin gets a little rough (he’s pent up, what do you expect?), mentions of non consensual filming and photo taking, mentions of male masturbation, armin is called pretty and reader is called slut, pussydrunk!armin, ruined orgasm (m!receiving), dacryphilia (kinda)

synopsis: the star of your twisted delusions is just as sick as you

You knew this was wrong. He’s your best friend and an unsuspecting victim in your perverted delusions. But you just couldn’t help yourself with him.

Armin was just so cute and just the perfect prey for your predatory mind.

The way a blush always crept onto his face whenever you leaned just a little too close to him, how his fingers looked whenever he turned the page of the book he was reading or whenever they pressed against the dark frames of his glasses to adjust them on his nose, or your favorite: the way he always stumbled over his words whenever he got flustered and had to end up looking away because his face was too flushed.

It just made you think about how he might look as you kneeled between his legs and stroked his cock. Or how he might look as you rode him to the point of overstimulation or edged him. Would he cry? He would look so pretty crying for you, his pretty blue eyes all puffy and his bottom lip jutting out in a little pout as tears streamed down his face.

Little did you know he had his perverted fantasies of you. If only you knew that he was pressing his favorite pair of your panties against his nose while fisting his cock. Letting his glasses get all fogged up due to his heavy breaths until he made a mess all over his hand. If only you knew that whenever he watched porn or read hentai, he imagined you as the female lead. Imagining what it would feel like to make you cum on his tongue over and over or how you would tremble when he sank his cock into you. God, he’d let you do whatever you wanted to him. He’d be at your beck and call, your toy to use as you please.

He was in the middle of his daily ritual, a pair of your silk panties were pressed to his nose as he fisted his cock. He was right on the edge when he received your text. He dropped everything to read it and had to shove his hard cock back in his pants before getting ready to head to your place. You were bored at home and wanted to see if he wanted to come over and watch a new show you found.

After some time your doorbell rang and you got up to open the door. He was taken aback a little from seeing your outfit, one of the shirts you stole from him and a pair of sleeping shorts that were barely visible. He felt his cock twitch back to life and let you lead him in. “So, I put out all of our favorite snacks and got some drinks ready for the show. I saw a lot of good reviews about it and I thought it might be up your alley.” He just nodded along with whatever you said, more focused on how his shirt looked on you and he tried not to let his mind wander too much.

You pulled him onto the couch and stretched your legs over his lap, your calf brushing a little too close to his crotch. He tried his best to focus on the show, to try to focus on anything but how close your legs were to his cock but you made it so difficult. Shifting around too much or adjusting your legs and bringing them closer to his cock. Then you finally did it, you put your leg right on his crotch, actually feeling how hard he was.

Your eyes widened a little before you looked over at him, a deep red blush bloomed across his face but he didn’t bother to move your leg. “Armin, have you been hard this whole time?” It was an obvious question with an obvious answer but you wanted to hear it from him. He looked over at you and adjusted his glasses on his nose. “I’m sorry, this isn’t right. I should just go.” He made a move to get up but you quickly stopped him, now that you were finally able to get your hands on him, you wouldn’t let him leave.

“You know, you can’t go outside like this. Anyone could see your boner through your pants and who knows what they might say?” You moved closer to him and moved to straddle his lap before moving your hands down to his pants. He watched your hands with wide eyes and bated breaths, he couldn’t believe this was happening now. You pulled his cock out and you were impressed, it was bigger than anything you would’ve imagined and definitely bigger than what you fantasized about. You brought one hand to your mouth to spit on it then brought it back down to start stroking his cock. You were hyper focused on it, the red tip that leaked the perfect bead of precum, how it throbbed in your hand as you worked it, it was perfect.

“You have such a pretty cock Armin, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so pretty. Just like you.” You finally lifted your head to gauge his reaction, a deep red blush along his cheeks and his bottom lip was tucked between his teeth. His bright blue eyes were focused on your hand before they finally met yours. “Please keep stroking me.” His voice trembled as he spoke, as if he was unsure of what he was telling you and it just spurred you on even more. You started moving your hand faster, your spit and his precum mixed to lube his cock and slick sounds along with his groans hit your ears.

“Fuck, fuck your hand feels so good.” He shut his eyes and bucked his hips up into your hand, more moans escaping his lips. You leaned in close and pressed your lips against his, slipping your tongue into his mouth as you continued to stroke his cock. He moaned into your mouth and moved his hands up your thighs and gripped your waist to bring you closer to him. His cock still throbbed in your hand as you pumped it. He gripped you tighter, he was embarrassingly close, being pent up from earlier and finally having you touch him brought him closer to the edge.

He broke the kiss and rested his head on your shoulder as he whined. “I’m gonna cum baby.” There it was, the door to the perfect opportunity finally opened. You released his cock and moved back, watching how it twitched frantically and a weak head of cum spilled from the tip. A broken moan left him and he looked at you with wide eyes. “Why would you do that?” He pouted a little and felt some tears brim his eyes as he looked at the satisfied look on your face.

“Why wouldn’t I? You just look so pretty when you’ve been denied like that and I just wanted to see the expression on your face for myself. It’s not like you didn’t cum, you just had a ruined orgasm and look how hard you still are. I can give you my hand again.” He hated the smug look on your face and he wanted to wipe it off — no, he was going to wipe it off.

He gripped your hips tightly and lifted you off his lap to drop you onto the couch, then in a swift move, he moved between your legs and pinned your arms above your head. Your eyes widened at his actions and your breath was caught in your throat. “There it is, that’s a better reaction.” He bit his lip and held both of your wrists in one of his hands and then moved his free hand down between your legs and pressed his palm against your covered pussy. He groaned and looked at you, “fuck, look at that. You’re just absolutely soaking through your shorts. It would be a shame to keep this on don’t you think?” All you did was nod, you couldn’t find the words to string together because your mind was trying to understand the shift in his demeanor. The control was all yours and now it’s all his.

He pulled off your shorts and panties haphazardly and tossed them aside. His cock was still hard and throbbed as he finally saw your bare pussy. “You know, even though you did offer your hand again, I see a perfectly good hole just waiting to be used. What do you think? Want me to fuck this needy pussy?” You looked down at his cock and spread your legs a little more for him, you couldn’t help but be turned on by him and this side he was showing you. You never thought he would have a dominant bone in his body but looks were definitely deceiving. “Please fuck me, Armin.”

He gripped the base of his cock and dragged it along your folds, collecting your juices on the tip before he pressed it against your entrance, slowly sinking into you. A whimper followed by a grunt left him as he started thrusting shallowly, pushing more of his cock into you. The feeling of your warm, wet walls clenching around him made his head all fuzzy. All coherent thoughts left his mind as he sank into you. He released the grip on your wrists and moved both of his hands to each of your thighs to spread them wider for him, letting him sink deeper into you.

His hips slammed into yours and your moans and whines spurred him on. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamt about this. I’ve been dying to fuck you. I started to think that I was sick in the head. There’s so many things and there were so many times where I wanted to fuck you. All those nights we spent here on the couch cuddling, I didn’t want anything more than to just bury my head between your thighs and take you. And I know you wanted it just as much. All those times you wore those short skirts and short dresses, it’s like you were begging me to take all those photos and videos of you. I even have them saved on a private album in my gallery.”

His confession poured out of his lips as he slammed into you over and over, the grip he had on your thighs was hard enough to leave a bruise but you could care less. All you did was clench around him and moaned even more. Your best friend was more sick and perverted than you were and all it did was turn you on. “Armin! Fuck!” He was hitting all your sweet spots and he continued to drill into you, it was like he was possessed at the moment. He just fucked you like an animal. “I also have a collection of your panties. They always smell so sweet, just like you. I’m surprised that you haven’t questioned where they went. Are you just that naive? Or did you know that I was taking them the whole time? Hm? Was this what you wanted? Wanted me to fuck you like the greedy slut you are? Was that why you opened the door today wearing my shirt? Knew it would just spur me on?”

Honestly, you didn’t have a plan going into seeing him today. His shirt was just comfortable and smelled like him and then you were bored of just lounging around. “N-no! I just wanted to spend time with you like always!” He looked into your eyes and he couldn’t see a thought behind them, so it was safe for him to assume you weren’t lying. “So just naive then? A naive little slut all for me and a naive little slut that’s getting ready to cum all over my cock.”

He moved one hand and brought it closer to your pussy, your clit was swollen and begged for attention. He brought his hand to his mouth and licked his thumb before bringing it down to your clit to start rubbing it. The feeling of his thumb on your clit was more than enough to set you off, you clenched around his cock tightly and squirted your juices along his hand and cock, soaking him and the cushions underneath you. He leaned down and smashed his lips against your as he continued to thrust and it didn’t take him long to finish after you. Thick ropes of his cum filled you completely, stuffing you to the point where you started leaking out around his cock.

He broke the kiss and panted as he rested his head on your shoulder, his cock still twitching inside you. You weakly wrapped your arms around him and peppered a few kisses along his face. Once he caught his breath he slowly lifted himself off of you and pulled you up with him as he sat up. He rubbed your sides and kept you close to him. “I’ve wanted this for such a long time, pretty boy.” You mumbled into the side of his neck before you lifted your head to look at him. A smile broke on your face when you saw his disheveled state, you brushed some hair out of his face then reached down on the couch to grab his glasses that had fallen off without you realizing it. You adjusted them on his face and caressed his cheek. “I’ve probably wanted this for even longer, beautiful. But just know, this isn’t the last time for us and I will get you back for that ruined orgasm earlier.”

tagging: @delirieum @briefrebelfanalmond @vampgloss

[thewriterg]

𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

pairing(s); johnny cage x fem!reader, kenshi x fem!reader, johnny cage x kenshi

summary; You’d do anything to keep them safe if you need to sing your song to get through war so be it. —angstober day; 12—

word count; 1.5k

warning(s); violence, weapons, siren coded reader, blood, injuries, kisses, and language

playlist; wet by dazey and the scouts

A/n:—GIFs; @mortal-kombat-1— played mk1 and don’t know how to act

“You sent them on a mission without my knowledge or and experienced supervision” You hissed your eyes leering into Liu Kang's pale glowing one as he sighed gently looking upon your angered expression that leered holes into his powered body

“You underestimate them Y/n the group consists of strong warriors if they weren't prepared to be sent to accomplish this mission then I would have no desire send them but they were” The sensei tied to reassure you yet it wasn't visibly enough to ease your troubles

“I'm going to aid them by the sound of it the mission at hand should have not taken this long they should have been back days ago” You stated stepping to put your swords on your back your eyes flickering that glowing black that your rivals and enemies feared the last thing they’ve seen before they were put to rest finding peace elsewhere while the brunette said nothing to stop you deep down somewhere in his subconscious he knew that your concerns were valid

“Y/n!” The warrior called out as you opened a portal black fog spilling out of it your eye now completely black in response you looked over your shoulder not making a single move to step back or back down

“Be noble in your bloodshed, I would like to be able to step foot into the realm again”

“With all due respect Liu Kang they shall be lucky if their head stays intact with their bodies let alone if their realm is still liveable” Without another word you you stepped through the portal before you were across the tower of Shang Tsung laboratory you didn't have time to linger the probability of getting caught high if you stayed in one place too long

Stealthily you snuck passed the guards after throwing an empty elixir bottle at a wall the sound of the glass shattering causing them to rush to the scene allowing you to wipe pass the entrance without much fuss you let you instinct guide you to the brick wall closest to the forest of the building pressing your palms against the rough material as you mended yourself into the cold basement of the building

The sound of footsteps bounced of the walls and you sucked in a sharp breath trying to think of something quickly scanning the hallway with the speed of light until you found a solution bending your knees and locking your feet into the ground to give you a power boost before you jumped you fingertips clinging to the little basically nonexistent space to hang onto swinging your legs up to kick in the grilles as it clashed open downwards its dividers now sitting with a bend in their metal

You quickly slipped into the vent as the sound of rushed footsteps approached your location you legs slithering behind your torso before you stuck a hand out of your temporary hiding spot pulling the cover up back in its place you watched through the metal slots Shang Tsung looked around to find nothing you would laugh at the fact that he look up directly at your peering eyes if you were in the mood

You waited until the footsteps started up once more to start moving behind the perpetrator making sure that you made no sound or shuffling noise there was a slant downward inside the cool dark vents the same time the sound of a door unlocking was heard you were in the right place

Your heart dropped as you inched closer toward the laboratory like dungeon the muffled groans of Johnny and the even worse whimpers of Kenshi you fought the urge to burst out the ceiling swords up thoughts down

“This process I call it electric love, after your done with it you'll learn to love the chambers the most… they hurt the least” Shang Tsung voice rang out in the cold hollow basement like room the sound way carrying through the vent clear for your ears while you perked up at the source of light in the predominantly dark ceiling

“Make sure they're withered to nothing, they should be a easy session for the tarkata” This was it if you wanted a chance to capture the adversary it had to be quick and it had to be now you waited until the footsteps approached the exit gate before kicking through the grilles landing in front of Tsunes with a hand positioned to your side one knee to the floor the other directed up towards the air

“Siren, see you've come to join your peers” His voice littered with a dark chuckle and you stood to your full height starting bullets into sorcerer

“No but you shall join your brother in the under realm” The mans face dropped at the mention while Kenshi perked up at the sound of your voice having to rely on his hearing to get past without his ability to see

You charged towards him with a punch landing directly towards his jaw taking a blow not only at his mandible but at his vulnerability when you went to swipe your feet under the sorcerer he grabbed you leg tripping you up you head hitting the cold concrete floor with a sickening thud before you could get on your feet there was a rough impact on your shoulder as your head was forced to look at your lovers captured the electricity having ceased on their bodies you noted Kenshi's masked eyes making your eyebrows furrow and Johnny's protest as he shook the bars of his enclosure you were forced to the ground with a knee in your back

“Your lovers courage and loyalty is honorary yet the execution is pathetic” You you heavily breathed through your teeth your fist clenched against your side

“Tell me Siren, can a heart still break if it stops beating?” A man dressed in green armor approached your line of sight about to open the cage you red masked love slouched in the keys jingling in his slightly shaken hand

“Can your brain still pump blood if it's in my hands?” You muttered taking all your strength to propel your body up from under the sorcerer's hold your taking swords from your back the once silver blade wielding black before your fingertips you sliced the at the mans back him hissing in response

“I'll end your misery quick and precisely” You stated voice void of emotion before Shang ran at you while you blocked his attacks swiftly a black fog falling over the room making it difficult for him to maneuver his senses were overloaded he was at his full charge yet had nothing to force it on causing him to burn out your attacks came silently and stilly he was running himself dry exactly what you wanted him to

The voice of desire called out to him your silhouette shined through the gloomy dark fog your voice promised him everything he could conquer in the biggest dreams and most wealthy realms he followed the sound your form getting closer until he walked into the blade of your sword a grunt resetting on his lips as he kept walking pushing it further into him until his torso met with the base of black reflective piece yearning for the promise of his desires the source being the song that fell from your lips until he dropped to his knees unconscious

You didn't waste a lasting second running towards the cages Reptile unconscious from the poisoned smoke Johnny and Kenshi along with the reaming earth realm team was trained to withstand it become immune to a certain point you felt your body weakening but ignored its call to rest it had been days since they left since you had

“Oh Kenshi” You whisperer after taking the gate from its hinges off the swinging cage his body fell into yours as you gently lowered yourselves to the floor a more prominent black trail of smoke tracing to Johnny's enclosure wailing him free as he rushed towards you both you opening your arms making room for him to fit your eyes scanning over their bodies the Hollywood stars body you deemed fine apart from a couple battered bruises Kenshi on the other hand the red mask on his eyes made your heart pick up as your fingers inched towards his face rubbing your thumb against his cheek as he grunted holding back a whimper at the pain you gently pulled the red cloth from his eyes sucking in a sharp breath at she sight of his gouged eyes tears brought to your own as you pressed a shaky kiss to his forehead

“I'm here, I'm gonna find a way to heal you, I'll find a way”

“We’ll find a way” Johnny mumbled into your armor clothed shoulder as you rocked the three of you back and forth. It would work, you'd find a way.

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[welldigger62]

The weekend is out there somewhere

This picture is taken looking east like a lot of my morning pics, but look at that fog!

Visibility is about a quarter mile and the humidity was at 93% when I took this. Probably due to the scattered rain yesterday.

I think I’ll stay inside for a while 🤨

Hope the weather is better wherever the rest of you guys are. Where is that anyway?

Drop a location in a comment 👇

[blueraineshadows]

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

Chapter 13 - 14.2k words

Tags: NSFW / Dark Magic / Angst / Injury / PTSD

Chapter Master List and Ao3 link

Chapter Thirteen: Of Faerie Rings and Offerings

Sebastian

Another wild, Highland trail to follow, and more hours of tension, as they walked through the cold, morning fog. As hardy as he was, living outdoors and growing up through the unpredictable patterns of Scottish weather, Sebastian had wrapped a warm, wool cloak about himself before setting out with MC in search of their next location. He walked on ahead, MC lagging behind him, her breaths laboured and her mood quiet. She wasn’t up to full fitness yet despite the potions she took each morning, but insisted she was fine every time he paused to check on her.

Turning once again on the path, his gaze taking her in, a small crease appeared on his brow at the paleness of her face contrasting with the dark smudges under her eyes. The last two nights had been rough, sleeping out in the wild landscapes in their tent, the tension thick after the confrontation with Anne. His twin’s words had intended to cut, and they certainly felt heavy over his head, slicing open his fears that MC would leave him. 

Waiting for MC to catch him up, he pulled his cloak closer against the damp chill, moisture heavy in the air from a lingering fog. MC slowed to a stop beside him, strands of damp hair stuck to her forehead and cheek. She gave him an enquiring look, glancing around at the endless sentinels of trees that surrounded them. 

“Why have we stopped? Are we close to the fairy ring?” 

“It shouldn’t be too much further,” he said, managing a reassuring smile. “How are you holding up? That last hill was quite the climb.” 

“I’m fine,” she assured him, her chin tilting up in that stubborn way of hers. “I told you to stop fussing over me like I am some kind of china doll that’s about to break.” 

He grinned and brushed gloved fingers against her temple, smoothing back the loose strands of hair there. “I know. That doesn’t mean I listened, though. I am merely adopting the manly role and looking out for the fair maiden in my charge.” 

Her look of disbelief was swiftly followed by a ‘pfft’ of laughter. “Oh, but of course!” She scoffed, planting her hands onto her hips. “Never mind the fact that my magic far outweighs yours in power, and if anything should befall us, then it is more likely going to be the fair maiden who saves the day. What, pray tell, will your manly role involve then?”

A spark of delight filled him at the sight of her mouth curving into a smile. Her laughter may have been an attempt to mock him, but he would take it. Her mood had dropped so low over the last few days due to the lack of ancient magic deposits, and the emotional weight she seemed to carry had put up tense walls between them. He wondered if she would rise to even riskier bait, his fingers shifting to capture her chin, tilting her face up towards him just so. Her eyes flashed, her mouth a tempting pout of pretty pink as he gave her his most wicked smirk. 

“I can think of a few manly roles I could adopt to offer my thanks to the fair maiden for saving my backside,” he murmured, daring to lean close enough until he could feel her breath on his cheek. “Especially for a maiden as fair as you.” 

“Smooth, Sallow,” she said, arching a brow, but not before she had visibly swallowed at their closeness. He had caught that dark spark in her eyes before she had quickly smothered it. Her hand caught hold of his wrist and tugged his hand from her chin. “But, you’re going to have to try harder than that.” 

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” he grinned, tipping her a cheeky wink. 

MC rolled her eyes and set off along the forest trail again. “Come on, let’s keep at it. You said the fairy ring was close. You can tell me more about your manly deeds with the Ashwinders as we walk. Impress me with your villainous skills.” 

She threw a smirk over her shoulder and he felt his spirits rise a little as he stepped out to join her, matching her step so they could walk side by side, careful to avoid tripping on rogue rocks or tree roots. 

“What do you want to know? I have some rather miserable tales about debt collecting on Rookwood’s behalf, or there is always the noble act of robbing from shipping crates arriving from far flung places.” 

Her side eye game was strong as she shook her head. “I think you might need to check on the definition of what a noble act entails. What are in these shipping crates anyway? Do you know? I hope it's not beasts.” 

He met her narrow eyed suspicion with a firm denial. “I stay well clear of any poaching,” he assured her. “That side of the gang is definitely not my area of interest.”  

“No, you are far happier with the torture and thievery,” she said sourly. She frowned thoughtfully. “Does it get any easier the more you do it?” 

The dark shadows of memories hovered greedily at the corners of his mind, and he adjusted his cloak, his face grim. “No,” he said regretfully. He sighed, his gaze scanning their surroundings, always on watch. “Thievery is probably the easiest job to do. Most of the crates that we stash have rare items such as spell books, or ancient artefacts from other countries. Those are the ones that intrigue me the most. I was working the docks for a while, particularly at Dover. Rookwood has a hidden lock up in the tunnels that are carved inside the white cliffs. Those tunnels date back centuries, carved out by Saxons or Vikings I suspect. Hidden by enchantments, Rookwood has quite a decent stash there.” 

MC remained quiet, appearing to think this over as she chewed her lower lip. She gave him a curious glance. “Have you ever been tempted to sneak an item for yourself?”

He gave a sly smile, shrugging his shoulders. “I may have pilfered the odd book, you know me. But, not too often. I couldn’t risk being caught. I’m with the Ashwinders for a reason, and I can’t afford to lose sight of that over a few items. The time will come when I get my hands on his collection.” 

Her expression soured and she dipped her gaze. Anne was a sore subject, but his determination to fix his sister remained the same. He couldn’t just let it go, not when they could be so close. After what MC had told him from her talk with Rookwood, killing him would lift Anne’s curse. It might even be worth the time in Azkaban to just end him and suffer the consequences. Anne would be well, Rookwood would get what was coming to him, but he would be parted from those he loved once again.

Lost in thought, he was surprised when MC came to a stop, his eyes immediately scanning the path ahead for any trouble. The path had widened slightly, the trees here mostly ash and old oaks, the ground a crispy carpet of browns and golds from the Autumn fall. Ahead was a clearing, a first glimpse of ancient stones set into a circle. 

“This is it,” MC whispered, a look of intense concentration on her face. 

Ancient stone circles were littered all over the Scottish wilderness, some called them fairy rings, others pagan ritual sites. Whatever they were called, there was always a healthy amount of respect and awe for these places. Untouched for centuries, they held a magical aura of their own, but it was the glow of ancient magic that they needed from this one. After nearly a week, they had found nothing.  

“Do we need to move closer?” He asked, watching her carefully. He couldn’t see the traces, but sometimes he could sense a strange energy in the air, although this could merely be coincidence. After all, he had magical blood of his own, and magic could be sensed if one concentrated hard enough. 

They moved towards the clearing slowly, the stones standing as solid and true as the day they were placed, any greenery that had dared to encroach seemed to do so with its own level of respect. MC moved towards the centre of the ring, turning in a circle as she studied the stones. Markings had been carved into them, symbols that were intriguing but very few looked familiar to Sebastian. 

MC sighed, her shoulders slumping. She shook her head and gave him a defeated look. No ancient magic here, either. All that walking for nothing. What were they doing wrong? 

MC

The leather of Noctua Gaunt’s journal was supple and smooth, the book a pleasant weight in her hands. MC let her fingers slide over the cover, deep in thought as she sat with her back resting against a tree under a canopy of tall ash. She had never known her mother, and to read about her within the pages of a book was strange, disconnected. It made her appear as a character in a story rather than a living and breathing person, and yet, she was out there in the world somewhere if records proved true. The fear that lingered in MC’s heart that Elizabeth had met a similar fate to Noctua kept taunting her. Perhaps she was foolish to get her hopes up, and any daydreams about a reunion were neither helpful nor wise.

Elizabeth Gaunt had fallen for a Muggle. A forbidden love for a daughter who came from a line of pure magical blood, her family staunch believers in keeping magic within the bloodlines. The emotions may be written by a second hand, but MC still felt an affinity to a young girl who felt confused about her own feelings. The circumstances may have been different, but MC was confounded by the way her heart seemed to find itself torn between two very different men. However she tried to imagine a life with either of them, it always came to the fear that she would end up destroying them both, as Elizabeth appeared to have ended up destroying her own true love for daring to take what she wanted.

Leander had a pure soul, and she could not bear the thought of dragging him under the shadow of her darkness. She had warned him of such, and yet he remained. Sebastian carried his own darkness, their paths entwined so deeply that surely they were like kindred spirits. His twin thought otherwise. Anne’s bitter prediction that MC would destroy Sebastian in the end still echoed through her thoughts. Could it be so? As much as she resented Anne, her words had struck a nerve, nudging up against the old fears that she had carried throughout her whole life. That she was not worthy of love. Abandoned as a child, never adopted, always on the outside looking in, followed by a darkness that owned her. Always alone, even when she had bound herself to another. 

To take the love that Leander offered so willingly would be a selfish thing to do. It terrified her when she saw that softness in his eyes, how fragile and untouchable it appeared, and if she broke it, which surely she would eventually, then it would be lost forever. The irony of it brought tears to her eyes. In not accepting what he had to offer, she proved only that she returned his affections. If she did not care, she would drain him of all he had to give. It would seem she did care, a lot.

Allowing a tear to escape and roll down her cheek, she thought of Leander, allowing herself to relax the solid walls of protection she had built around herself the last few days. Sebastian had excused himself, wandering off a way under the cover of lingering fog through the trees. The few moments of his absence provided precious time for her to vent the pent up emotion stuffed tightly in her chest. Closing her eyes, all she could see was Leander standing in the kitchen of Shell Cottage, his face a mask of bravery whilst his eyes glittered with his pain. Leaving him like that had been so very difficult, but in the end, it had to be for the best.

Taking a deep breath, MC took out the secret parchment and opened it out on top of the journal, tapping it with her wand and turning up nothing. No messages from Leander.  Swallowing foolish disappointment, she reminded herself that she had a job to do, and she wouldn’t let him down. Wiping the tear from her cheek, she sat up straighter, writing quickly before Sebastian returned. The little tidbit of information that Sebastian had shared about the tunnels in the cliffs at Dover would be valuable information, and she explained quickly. Resisting the urge to add anything personal, she tapped her wand and sent the words on their way to her Auror. 

When Sebastian wandered back through the trees, the low lying mist swirling around his boots, she gave him a wary look. Caught off guard for those brief seconds, she met his gaze and her heart thundered behind her ribs. His look was drenched in curiosity, he knew she was suppressing something, and she feared the questions he would likely ask. She wasn’t ready to answer them. She could feel his need rolling off him in waves, curling with the mists and snaking around her, his eyes almost begging for her to open up to him as he rolled his lower lip thoughtfully. 

Dragging her eyes from him, she stuffed the journal back into her bag and got to her feet, brushing dirt and leaves from her trousers. Barriers firmly back in place, she slung her bag over her shoulder and glanced towards the trail. “We should get moving,” she said stiffly. “We have one more possible location to scout out before nightfall.”

Sebastian paused beside her, picking up his own bag and taking out the map. She could feel the strength of his gaze on her, but kept her own eyes averted, looking down at the markers he had drawn on the map. He pointed at the next location with a grubby finger, small scars that looked like burns from spells embedded on his skin. Hands capable of such destruction, and yet she found she liked looking at them, unable to help herself as she took in the veins on the back of them filled with his life blood. Hands that had held her, touched her in ways that left her breathless. Hands that could kill. 

“There is a village nearby where we could stop for provisions,” he said, showing her on the map. “I’m almost out of snacks, and I’m pretty hungry.”

Risking a look at him, his expression was one of simple enquiry, the earlier raw need gone. Her lips almost curved into a smile. “You had a massive breakfast, Sebastian. How are you so hungry already?”

“It’s all this fresh air and exercise, love,” he smirked, patting his stomach. “It gives one an appetite.”

She dared to poke a finger into the softness of his tummy. He was by no means overweight, but neither was he lean and hard. He had that solid build, with just an edge of softness, a body that was both strong and capable of the most satisfying hugs. She felt warmth flame her cheeks as she recalled curling into him and falling asleep the other night. Clearing her throat, she lifted her eyebrows, flashing him a teasing glance. “Aww, cute and squishy like a teddy bear. Must be all the snacks.”

He scowled and rubbed his stomach again, looking down at it. “Are you suggesting I’m getting chubby?” He asked, pinching at his flesh through his shirt.

She stepped out along the path with a chuckle, glancing back to him, allowing her gaze to sweep slowly over him. There was nothing boyish about him anymore, except for maybe the twinkle in his eyes sometimes, and he definitely wasn’t chubby. Her eyes lingered on the cut of his jaw, darkened with a few days worth of stubble, the strength in his neck and shoulders. She knew all too well how easily he could lift her up. Her fingers clutched at her bag strap as she let her gaze wander down over his torso, lingering on thick, powerful thighs. Solid, strong, but fast, those legs could side step and fall into powerful stances during duels. He could run, too.

Biting her lower lip, her gaze lifted to meet him once more, and she could see the way those chocolate eyes had darkened. Staring each other down under the canopy of the forest, she felt the primal pulse of blatant desire flare in her blood, calling to him. His throat worked as he swallowed, his lips parting slightly as though about to speak.

“Don’t worry, I was merely jesting,” she said quickly, flashing him a quick smile. “I'm sure there are plenty of adoring fans at the duelling pit when you start flexing your prowess.”

Turning quickly so she could get a grip on her flushed state, she began to stride along the path, blood pumping. It wouldn’t do to get all carried away with intrusive thoughts. His mouth had always been distracting, and she had enough to figure out without adding ideas of what that mouth could do.

“I should hope so,” he cracked, following her, his boots thudding against the dirt. “It takes a lot of care and attention to look this good, darling. I wouldn’t like to disappoint.”

She huffed a laugh, throwing her eyes up towards the gently swaying branches above their heads, golden leaves fluttering down to carpet the forest floor in a blanket of fiery colours. “Always so bloody sure of himself,” she muttered.

Hands gripped her waist and she jumped with a sharp intake of breath, her feet stilling as he bent close to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “I heard that,” he murmured, his fingers flexing in a tempting grip. “If you don’t believe me, you are most welcome to conduct a more thorough investigation. You would find me a very willing participant.”

Gulping in an attempt to steady her breathing, MC desperately tried to get a grip on the roaring of her pulse, every nerve ending seeming to bend and scrape to his will. “Oh, I have no doubt about your willingness,” she quipped, aiming for bored and unimpressed, but sounding dangerously close to breathy and needy. “It likely equals your level of audacity and randiness. Quite the scoundrel, in fact.”

His nose brushed up the column of her neck, his throaty chuckle sending shivers down her spine as her head tipped foolishly back a touch. All this wonderful fresh air, and yet she couldn’t breathe sufficiently. “I would wager that you secretly enjoy the scoundrel in me,” he teased, soft lips grazing against her skin, the scratch of stubble added just enough roughness to make her sigh. “You are quite the vixen yourself, MC. Do you even know what you do to a man when you look at him with that dark fire in your eyes? When you sway these delectable hips…”

His hands slid down to cup her hips, drawing her back against him so that her back was flush against that solid strength she had been appraising. No, she absolutely wasn’t leaning into him, her eyes closing as his hot mouth claimed a taste of her neck, over and over again, until she felt the tantalising tug of his teeth on her earlobe.

“Seb…” It was the ghost of a whisper through her lips, her back arching as the flat of his palm slid down to the top of her thigh.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he breathed into her hair, his fingers digging deliciously into the flesh of her thigh before he dragged them slowly upwards.

A soft sound left her throat as her knees trembled. Scoundrel, indeed. He knew what he was doing, and she let him, her skin inflamed with every heated touch of that wicked mouth. With one hand splayed at her midriff, and the other seeking out the curve of her hip and backside, her body was melting into his touch. How easy would it be to give in and let him have her? Like falling back into a feather pillow, surrounded by his scent, his arms, his kisses driving the wildfire in her blood to dizzying heights. So effortless.

“Seb,” she said again, firmer this time, her brows drawing together. 

He spun her round to face him, his hand claiming her jaw as he pressed his hot mouth to hers in a dominant kiss. While her fingers clutched at his jacket, and her mouth opened to welcome the slide of his tongue, she felt the first flutters of insecurity and panic begin to dance in her chest. 

This isn’t love, it’s obsession. She will destroy you. 

Her hands were in his unruly mop of hair, his low groan into her mouth making her thighs clench as his hands moulded her curves. Their kisses had become desperate, ravenous, their hot gasps for breath loud in the surrounding quietness. But, the doubts filtered through the haze.

If you were to allow it, I would love you until the very end of existence. 

Breaking the kiss with a whimper, MC squeezed her eyes closed against the voices in her head. Anne and her bitterness, Leander and his soft brown eyes full of love she could never accept, Luella Rookwood’s possessive hand on Sebastian’s arm. Her chest tightened but she couldn’t seem to let go of Sebastian, her hands curled into his black jacket as though her life depended on it. His eyes were aflame with hunger, dark and wild, his freckled cheeks flushed with passion when she dared to look at him. They shouldn’t be doing this. Every cell in her body was screaming for him, but that little cold slice of her that held all her fear and doubt began to cut through the fire in her blood. It had not been that long since they had held others in their arms, and tasted kisses from another’s lips. 

He shook his head, his eyes turning pained. “No, don’t do that,” he begged, holding her tighter against him. “Don’t you dare start shutting down on me, not now. Please. Don’t push me away, MC.”

“It’s too soon,” she rasped, shaking her head. She stepped back, her arms straightening where she still clutched his jacket, holding him at bay. “I can’t.”

“Surely, you must feel this…this connection between us,” he said, grasping her arms in a tight grip. The desperation on his face, that flicker of fear in his gaze, it made her heart twist painfully. “Please, MC. I love you so much. You drive me crazy being this close, but so out of reach. What do you want me to do? I can’t stop how I feel about you, not ever.”

“You said you could wait,” she winced, his declaration joining Leander’s in the jumbled mess of emotions bubbling inside of her. 

A pained look crossed his face and he let her arms go, his hands dropping to his sides and he looked away through the trees. “What am I waiting for, MC? Tell me that. Am I waiting for you? Or, are you going to tell me that you love him more, and then go off to live your life without me? Is that how you will break me, MC? Are you planning to leave in the end?” 

A tear slid from her eye and she flinched, blinking rapidly against the swell and burn of more filling her eyes. Her lips parted but no words came. Would she leave him? Slowly letting go of his jacket, she turned her left palm up to look at the red scar there. She was bound to him until death, and therefore, he would always be a part of her. She could never fully turn her back on him, and neither could he do the same to her. But, was it enough?

Sebastian wrapped a hand around hers, squeezing it gently. “Don’t look at that, look at me,” he said softly. “When you look at me, I feel like you see me for who I truly am. You have seen the worst of me, and yet you stuck around. You are more than just a scar on my palm. You’re everything.” 

“I…I’m scared,” she admitted, withdrawing away from him, her arms curling around herself as she stepped back. So long in the dark, alone and afraid. Now, she was surrounded by what she had craved for years, but she was too scared to reach out and take it. “What if it’s not real? What if it’s just the foolish, teenage dream you’re in love with rather than me? I’m not that girl any more. Azkaban changed me. I’m harder, colder, the darkness is always there waiting for me. What if I destroy you? What if I can’t give you what you want?”

He looked crestfallen. Those big, brown eyes of his made her think of an abandoned puppy, lost and in need of reassurance. “What are you saying?”

The truth had spilled from her lips and she cringed from it, slapping her hand to her mouth and turning from him. “I can’t…I can’t do this right now.”

He called out to her, but her feet kept moving, one in front of the other until she was running. Speaking the darkest, painful truth had split the fear into shards and now they were digging their jagged edges into her chest. It left a raw feeling there, replacing the heated desire that had bloomed so ferociously before. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, she ran. The path winding through the trees splitting off into tangents that she paid no heed to as her feet hit the dirt. Running from herself, running from the dark, and behind her, the inevitable steady beat of footsteps running after her. 

Sebastian

When MC had run from him on the peaks above Hogwarts Valley, he had let her go. Her magic had blasted from the depths of the forest in her rage and pain, but he had not gone after her. This time, he gave chase. Instead of Apparating, she had run, and it would be no great effort to catch up to her. He had wanted her to open up to him so desperately, but when that thick shield she clung to had cracked, the vulnerability that had haunted her eyes had staggered him. She had said the darkness lingered there waiting for her, and that was something he knew all about. 

The weak sunlight dappled through the forest canopy, flickering in shades and glimmers on her black hair, strands of it slipping loose from the braid that hung down her back. She was nimble on her feet like a sprite, but she was tiring quickly, her strides lagging as she ran aimlessly through the trees. He could hear her laboured breaths, his mind racing with all that had transpired between them in the last few days. 

Anne had rattled her with poisonous words, planting seeds of doubt in a mind already guarded against him. He loved his twin, but damn, he could throttle her sometimes. Whatever had gone down between MC and Leander haunted her thoughts, her gaze faraway and distracted, her quietness laying thick and heavy ever since she had returned from that meeting. That scared him more than anything Anne could say. Anne he could deal with. MC’s feelings for Prewett were a whole other matter entirely. 

Despite the nagging fear that MC was in love with another man, he could not get that kiss out of his mind. He couldn’t be mistaken. The fire in her gaze, the way she had responded to his touch, it was tangible and explosive. He couldn’t be the only one who felt it, she had to feel that burn between them as he did. Certain that she did, the fear she had admitted to just now had her in a vice grip, and she was holding back from him. There was still hope. There had to be.

The path appeared to be widening out, a strange sound drifting through the trees, like sticks clacking together. MC slowed, her step faltering as a clearing opened up before them. The sound of a babbling spring joined the clacking sticks, MC coming to a standstill before a huge hawthorn tree decorated with ribbons and strips of cloth. Coming to a stop beside her, both of them catching their breaths, Sebastian felt his skin prickle with the sensation that came from being in a sacred place. He recognised the significance of the clearing immediately, his eyes taking in the offerings tied to the tree.

The clacking sticks were makeshift wind charms strung up on nearby ash trees, the breeze catching them and making them sound their strange music as the scraps of fabric fluttered and danced along with them. MC took a step back, her gaze full of curious wonder as she looked around the clearing, seemingly forgetting why she had run from him.

“What is this place?” She shivered, rubbing her arms, a look of intense concentration darkening her face.

“It’s a Clootie tree,” he said, his voice hushed.

“A what?” She turned to look at him, her brow creased.

“A Clootie tree,” he repeated, pointing up to the branches of the hawthorn. “Clootie means cloth. You find them near sacred wells or springs. People come to make an offering, dipping their Clootie into the water and tying it to the tree in the hopes of curing their loved one from some ailment. It’s sometimes done as a gift to the goddess, or spirit, that guards the sacred well, but mostly it is a prayer for good health.” 

MC took a tentative step towards the tree, studying the offerings. Some of them were very faded, the fabric threadbare from age, others looked more recent, one a particularly lovely silk ribbon tied in a bow. “So, these are all likely to represent someone who is hurt, or sick?” 

Sebastian nodded, solemnly. She turned to look at him again, a shadow of sadness in her eyes. “Does it work?” 

“I’m not sure,” he shrugged, looking at a rather faded scrap of tartan. “It’s said that as the fabric wears thin, the ailment fades with it. It could just be a comfort, but as you and I both know, magic is capable of wonderful things. It may surprise you to hear that most of these were likely placed here by Muggles, though. It’s a Celtic tradition going back centuries. You will find these all over Scotland and Ireland, no doubt in Northern Europe, too.” 

The soft look she gave him stirred at the hope he clung to. “Do you know them from personal experience, or through your reading?”

“Both,” he said, his smile sad. “I’ve read about them, of course, but when I was a small child, I remember visiting one with Anne and my mother. We gave an offering to the tree for my grandmother.”

“What happened?”

Sebastian looked at the offerings and swallowed thickly. It had been the first loss he’d experienced in his young life, but definitely not the last. “She died,” he whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” MC said, moving a little closer towards him.

“I remember standing there watching my mother tie the piece of cloth to the tree, and I didn’t believe it would make a difference. I think I even complained about how cold it was that day, the whole idea seeming silly and annoying when I had a new toy train to play with at home.” He bowed his head, worrying at his lower lip as old grief rose up to mingle with new. Always, those he loved had to leave. “Then when grandma died, I lay awake worrying that it was because I didn’t believe in the Clootie tree. It was my fault that the wish didn’t work, and if mother ever found out, she would blame me, too.”

He felt her hand on his forearm, gentle, reassuring. “It’s not your fault, Seb. People die, it’s the way of life. One young boy cannot hold back what nature intends. I doubt your mother would have blamed you, either. Terrible things happen to good people, and we must find a way to carry that loss. There is nothing you could have done.”

“But, what if there was?” He said, his voice hoarse with the emotion bubbling up his throat. “Everyone I love leaves in some form or another. It must all come back to me somehow, and no matter how many books I read, or how many shadows I battle, people still end up leaving. I have to find a way to fix whatever dark curse hangs over me, this rotten luck that steals all that is good and leaves me with nothing.”

She stared at him, wide eyed, lips parted, as he ranted. It seemed she was not the only one cracking open and spilling dark truths. Feeling ashamed of his failures, he put a hand to his face, his eyes squeezing tightly closed as the well of darkness inside of him threatened to spill over. His stomach churned. Shame and guilt, fear and self-loathing, all twisting together to form a lead ball that lay heavy within.

“Perhaps you are right to be wary of me, MC,” he said, voice cracking. “It could well be that I end up destroying you rather than you destroying me. Look what has happened to you already because of me.”

“Do you think Anne has a point?” She asked quietly after a moment. That flicker of worry appeared in her eyes again. “Is this a toxic obsession? What do you see when you look at me? You said I see you despite your darkness, but what of me? I’m just as dark, and definitely more dangerous with the power that I have access to.”

Risking her running from him again, he cupped her face, making sure that he looked directly into her eyes as he spoke. “Yes, you are powerful, and I won’t deny the excitement I feel when I see you unleash it. It truly fascinates me, but that’s my thirst for wanting to know about all things magical. That’s the Ravenclaw part of me that is all my mother. But, the more time that I spent with you, the more I realised that the girl behind all of that was worth knowing, too. I felt this affinity to you, like I could have known you on another plane of existence, or something.”

“A kindred spirit,” she murmured, a slight smile curving her lips. “You said that to me once.”

His own mouth curved in remembrance, his thumb stroking her cheek. “You know me better than anyone, aside from Anne. As I said before, you have seen my darkness, and you stayed. I am not afraid of your darkness, MC. It could be a mirror of my own, and if Anne thinks we will only destroy each other, then I am still willing to risk it. All the time you are willing to hold my hand as we face whatever it is we have to face, then I’m here. If you go down, then I’m coming with you, because if there is one thing I learned while you were gone, it’s that I am fucking miserable without you beside me.”

Her head tilted slightly, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. “You’re a big softie underneath all that dark magic and fierce duelling, aren’t you?”

He gave her his most devilish smirk, leaning in closer towards her. “Don’t tell anyone,” he murmured, dropping her a wink.

“It’s a good thing I am a master of keeping your secrets,” she said, dipping her hand into the collar of her shirt and pulling out the silver chain that held the amulet. The blood stone glittered eerily in the dappled light of the clearing. “I swore on our blood that I would, but even without it, I would keep your secrets, Sebastian. Just as you have kept mine.”

Was it enough, though? He studied the amulet, mulling over the pact they had made. He remembered how strongly he had believed in his love for her. When she had asked if it was nothing more than a teenage dream, it had felt like a blow to his stomach. Looking at her now, her hair tumbling free from her braid, her face pink and blotchy from her tears, he couldn’t imagine feeling this way about anyone else. 

“I should have married you instead of making this blood pact,” he said, taking hold of her left hand. He brushed a thumb over her ring finger. “We could have done it despite our age. We broke so many other rules, why not that one? We could have done it the old fashioned way and performed a Handfast ceremony, they are as good as law here in Scotland. You would have been mine forever.”

She gaped at him. “Marriage? Bloody hell, Sebastian! We were kids! Do you think it would have made any difference? Wouldn’t we still be standing here without a clue what we are doing?” 

“Would you have gone to Prewett’s bed if we were wed?” The question fired from his lips, bringing his fear of her feelings for the Auror into the open.

MC reeled backwards, her cheeks flushing scarlet, and her mouth forming a tight line. “I could ask the same question of you with regards to Miss Rookwood,” she snapped.

“Ask it,” he said firmly. “Ask me, and I will tell you. I would not. She means nothing to me, nothing at all. But, Prewett is a whole other kettle of grindylows, isn’t he? I didn’t move on, MC, but I think you did. You moved on, and you’re too scared to admit it.”

Her eyes widened, and she stepped back, her hands darting up to fiddle with loose strands of her hair. “Admit what, exactly?”

“I know you have feelings for him,” he pressed, his chest heavy as though filled with rock. “As much as it kills me, I saw it in your eyes. You love him, and that’s why you have been so cold and distant with me. You are pushing me back, and I think it’s because of him. I’m right, aren���t I?” 

Her lips parted with a harsh sigh, a small cry of distress leaving her lips. “It’s not the same,” she said, her voice breathless and high. 

“You either love him, or you don’t, MC,” he said, shaking his head. “Am I a fool for thinking that the kiss we just shared meant something? Am I really waiting for you to break my heart?”

She put her hands to her head and paced, her chest rising and falling with tortured breaths. Each agonising second that passed without an answer seemed to make the weight on his chest grow heavier. She wasn’t denying it, his worst fears were manifesting right in front of him, and he felt sick. She was going to leave him for another. 

“You are not a fool, Sebastian,” she said, coming to a stop before him. He almost held his breath as he waited. “But, you are right, I do need to be honest with you. I’m not going to deny that I have feelings for Leander. I cannot help how I feel, and I won’t do him an injustice by pretending that he doesn’t mean anything to me.”

“Fucking hell,” Seb groaned, pushing his hands into his hair and looking up at the swaying branches of the trees. 

“You wanted to hear this, Sebastian, and so you can damn well listen!” She said firmly. When he glanced back at her, she had her hands on her hips, her face determined. “He loves me. I know it, and I know he would do anything for me, but I can’t…”

She winced and looked down, taking a deep breath.

“Can’t what?” 

“I can’t give him what he wants,” she said, tears forming in her eyes. She sniffed and put the back of her hand beneath her nose. “He offered me the chance to start a new life, and I turned him down. How could I accept such a thing when I cannot give him all of myself in return? I broke his heart because…because all that he wanted from me, that part of me, in here…” She patted her hand to her chest, tears rolling freely down her cheeks now as she looked at him. “I’m pretty sure that part already belongs to you.”

Her words washed over him, pulling him back from the edge, a stuttered gasp ripping from his chest. The relief that she felt that way had him staggering towards her and dropping to his knees. In that moment, there was no swagger, no smirking, just raw emotion as he buried his face into her stomach, his hands holding her as though she was made of precious glass. He felt her hand in his hair, the touch soothing, and sending shivers down his spine. 

“I haven’t given up on us, Seb,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “There is still a lot to figure out, and that might take some time, but I haven’t given up.”

Sebastian nuzzled into her warmth, breathing her in and drawing comfort from knowing that she was his, but that niggling fear still lingered. She admitted having feelings for Leander. “And, Prewett?” 

He bit his lip, expecting her to push him off, but he felt her shudder. He kept his face buried into the fabric of her clothing, afraid of what he would see on her face if he looked up. 

“I don’t want to hurt him,” she whispered. “He is a good person, and he deserves so much more than what I could give him. My darkness would swallow him whole. I have to let him go.”

For the first time since he had met Prewett in their first year at Hogwarts, he felt a pang of sympathy for him. There was pain and regret in MC’s voice, and while Sebastian hated the thought of them being close with each other, he could understand the pain of wanting someone and then losing them. That could have been him, he could have been the one to be let go of, and perhaps he still could. 

“I will do whatever it takes, MC,” he vowed. “You know I am yours.” 

Her hand swept through his hair, her fingers caressing the back of his neck as he remained there on his knees, holding her. The crude wind chimes clacked together in the trees above, the babbling spring gushed as it had done for centuries, and Sebastian allowed himself a moment of peace beneath the Clootie offerings. This time, he was going to believe in the sentiment that good things could happen. 

“I don’t wish to break up the moment, but there is something you should know,” MC said quietly. Sebastian tensed, waiting. “I know you can’t see it, but there is ancient magic here. It’s glimmering around the trunk of the tree, little wisps of it trailing up and around the branches. The offerings are all touched by the magic, too. It’s actually rather beautiful.” 

Sebastian lifted his head to look up at the tree, but of course, he could not see what she could. He could feel the power of the space, ancient and steeped with years of human emotion. People came here because they were sad, hurting, desperate. They came to make their offering to save their loved ones. That kind of emotional magic was bound to leave a mark. 

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, getting to his feet. A strange tingling sensation swept through him as the realisation dawned, and he grabbed MC by the hand. “We have been looking at the deposits all wrong. We are assuming that ancient magic would reside in ancient places, but what if that’s not the true source. It’s old, of course, but age shouldn’t dictate where it would gather.” 

“What are you thinking, Seb?” She asked, her grip tightening on his hand as he gazed up at the tree. 

“These offerings,” he said, gesturing up towards them as he looked at her. “They are emotional. What if that is what draws the ancient magic here? What if it's the emotion that manifests it?” 

Her gaze lifted to the tree, her mouth parting as he saw the way her thoughts must be racing. A quiver of excitement trembled through him, as it always did when he stumbled across a brilliant idea. 

“That would make sense,” she nodded, her gaze dipping shyly before she spoke again. “There have been instances where ancient magic has burst out of me without the use of a wand, and those moments have always been highly emotionally charged. I…I saved Leander from Dementors inside Azkaban without a wand. It just happened. So, the idea of ancient magic being attached to emotions is actually a good one. Let’s not forget that Isadora created the repository using painful human emotions, too.” 

“I should have seen it sooner,” he said, his jaw clenching at how obvious it seemed now. “We could have been spending our time seeking out locations where emotional magic has been cast. Perhaps we would have been more successful.” 

“Well, we know now, at least we think we do,” she said, her eyes brightening. “We need to test this theory. We need a location where something emotional would have happened. How are we going to find places like that?” 

A thought began to turn in his mind, and he was reluctant to suggest it, but it would make perfect sense. The issue was whether he would be able to handle it. Looking at MC, their hands clasped, and the knowledge that she hadn’t given up on him seemed to lend him added strength. “Emotionally charged magic like the murder of a relative in extreme circumstances? How about that for a location to test the theory?” 

Her blue eyes stared at him, and he could see the echo of his own shadows flickering there. They would never forget that day down in those catacombs, it would live inside them for the rest of their lives. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, her worry creasing her brow. 

No, he wasn’t sure, his guilt and fear seemed to stretch and crawl under his flesh. “I guess there is only one way to find out, sweetheart,” he said, and held her closer as he let the image of the Feldcroft catacomb entrance fill his mind. 

MC

The fresh, briney scent of the ocean greeted them as they landed on the cliff top near Feldcroft, the stiff breeze tugging at their hair and cloaks as they gathered their bearings. Tall pines creaked and swayed in the wind, the happy chatter of songbirds a peculiar juxtaposition to the ominous looking entrance of the catacombs. Carved ancient stones leaned amongst the twisted, gnarled tree roots that reached like claws towards the dirt beaten path. A tomb of the dead, ancient and long forgotten, clinging to magic crafted centuries before. The atmosphere spoke of age and dust, but she knew what lingered down there in the dark. 

MC shivered and looked to Sebastian, taking in the paleness beneath his freckles, his eyes fixed on the darkened entrance with a hesitant look. 

“We don’t have to do this,” she said quietly.

His hand massaged anxiously at her waist as he gave a jerky nod. “I’ll be alright. We need to see if we’re right about this.” 

Taking his hand in hers, they walked into the entrance, leaving behind the soft autumn skies for the damp chill of stone and sand. Descending down the cracked stone steps, aged candles flickered into life casting an eerie pale glow to light their way. 

“Do you think anyone has been down here since that day?” Sebastian asked, his voice low and tight. 

MC scanned the path ahead, water dripping down the walls and the patter of a startled rat echoing down the tunnel carved into the rock. “It’s hard to say,” she said. “I’m sure anything worth any value was looted long ago. What would bring anyone here?” 

“I don’t know, explorers, history lovers, desperate boys with grand plans of saving the world.” 

MC paused to look at Sebastian, the brittle sadness behind his words making her question the wiseness of taking him down into these catacombs. She squeezed his hand, her own apprehension twisting in her chest, but she tried to suppress it. “I can go on alone, you know. I’m not afraid,” she suggested. “You can wait for me outside if this is going to be too much.”

His jaw tightened and he took a breath. “Come on,” he said, tugging her forward. “You are not going down here alone.” 

It could almost make her smile how he still insisted on being her protector, despite the ancient power that lived in her veins. There was nothing in these tunnels that she couldn’t fight off, she was more than capable, but he still had the need to be her saviour. 

They walked on, taking the twists and turns with their wands in hand, their other hands still tightly clasped. The candles lit up as they went, casting eerie shadows on stone walls and reflecting off the huge puddles that flooded the chambers. Their boots echoed off the stone flooring sections, the rest of the tombs appearing empty and quiet aside from the odd scampering rat. 

“I had forgotten how much of a warren this place was,” MC murmured as they came out on a large curved balcony, the huge circular chamber supported by solid stone columns. Candles illuminated the space, revealing the shattered coffins and dusty urns on their shelves. Down in the centre of the chamber was a stone altar, abandoned, but left as it was last used. As they wandered down the slope, trying to remember which archway to take next, countless old skulls stared back at them with dark, empty eye sockets. “Can you remember which way to go?” 

Sebastian paused near the altar, frowning slightly as he eyed the options. “There were so many ancient puzzles to solve to get through here, but it seems the doorways are all still open.” 

MC stared at one archway in particular, goosebumps erupting along her arms as she felt a familiar hum beneath her feet. Her heart picked up the pace and she aimed her wand towards the entrance, a stale stench wafting from the dark maw. She could feel it. There was magic here. “This way,” she said. 

They continued on, their hands still tightly wrapped around each other despite the sticky sheen of sweat that had gathered on their palms. Sebastian was quiet, his face drawn and eyes dark. MC could feel the tension on the back of her neck as memories of that awful day returned and replayed in her head, these walls echoing with the shouts, flickering with the spells of their fight with his uncle. 

It was hard not to wonder what Solomon’s motives were, a question that had plagued her during long hours in the dark serving time for his murder. It was all together more strange and frustrating now that she had discovered he had known her as a very small child. It made her feel cold, numb, a sense of dread that this had all been a cruel trick of fate for them all. 

All the while, she felt the pulse of magic begin to strengthen beneath her feet, the static in the air prickled on her skin, and she tried to remain calm. Sebastian couldn’t feel any of those things, but he could probably sense her tension as they entered a chamber with a staircase conjured from ancient bones. They both stood before it, a sense of dread looming over them, the entrance above the staircase flickering with a familiar blue and white light. The power throbbed and pulsed with renewed strength, and she felt the answering call in her blood.

“You were right,” she said softly, turning to look at Sebastian. “There is ancient magic here.” 

A muscle ticked in his jaw as his gaze remained locked on the doorway, a sheen of sweat glistened on his brow, and he was breathing faster. He shook his head, pulling her back a step. “I can’t…” 

She grabbed his arm, steadying him as he trembled, his eyes still fixed on the doorway with a wide, haunted stare. “You’re alright,” she soothed. “You don’t have to go in there.” 

Tearing from her grip with a tortured groan, he clamped both his hands to his own head, deathly pale as he sucked in panicked breaths. The ghosts of the past were lurking in his eyes, remembering the darkness that had made him flee these tunnels years ago in grief and despair. Their lives had changed down here, his more than hers, at least for a time. 

“I know this is tough,” she said carefully, holding her hand towards him. “But, I’m right here with you, okay? I can run in, absorb the deposit, and then we can get out of this place. We have what we came for, proof of your theory.”  

He looked at her, his eyes dark and glazed with tears. “That magic can’t be good, MC. How can it be? I killed my own flesh and blood. So much hate…” 

His voice trailed off, his eyes drawn back to the catacomb beyond. 

“The hate is gone now, Sebastian,” she said, stepping towards him. Carefully, she placed a hand to his cheek, soothing him with soft touches. “The hate died with him. He’s gone. All that is left are memories, and a spark of magic that I can put to good use.” 

“He’s still in here, though,” he said through gritted teeth, jabbing a finger against his head. “Even in my dreams I hear him. There is no end to it, but I know that it is all my fault. It is the burden I must carry from the choice that I made.” 

Her heart squeezed and she wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. He was stiff and trembling, but returned the embrace. Her earlier observations about him no longer being a boy seemed to melt away as she stroked his back. Deep down, his inner child was still broken, hiding from the pain and guilt of his actions, drowning under the weight of his uncle’s cold cruelty. In these damp and creepy catacombs, he was still the boy slumped against the wall, watching what was left of his family vanish in the wake of his fury. 

“We will be in, and out,” she promised, her hand soothing the back of his neck. “I only need a minute or two at the most to absorb the deposit, and then we can Apparate away from this place. We will never need to return here again, we can leave it in the past where it belongs.” 

He buried his face into her hair and squeezed her to him. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice muffled. 

She kissed his head, her own demons stalking through the dark of her mind, but she remained steady on her feet. Determination steeled her spine. “And I love you,” she declared. 

Leander 

Today’s briefing had an air of expectancy as Harrington shared information to those Auror’s gathered in preparation for tonight’s raid. Leander sat tense and alert, his fingers twisting around the smooth wood of his wand as he looked at the blackboard behind Harrington. A map of Dover had been pinned to it, markers along the coast suggesting tunnels that had been quickly researched by the archive team this afternoon. The Auror crew that manned the docks at Dover had been informed of the state of affairs by owl, and were on alert. 

When MC’s secret message had come to him, his heart had jumped, his nerves still raw from their last meeting. If he was honest with himself, he had been running on automatic, like a steam engine powering through on sturdy rails. He was coasting, his head stuck in a loop of those moments in the kitchen with her. The scoop she had passed on to him about the Rookwood hideout in the tunnels had switched the pace, firing his head into action, and now he was firing on hot coals. Eager to get into the fray, his eyes were keenly alert as the instructions were given out. 

“We are of the understanding that this hideout is not much more than a storage facility,” Harrington said, shifting his gaze around his team gathered. “Our inside information is newly received, and therefore not completely researched. In order to discover more, we need to investigate these tunnels. There will likely be enchantments, and Ashwinder guards, too. I want you in pairs so that you can watch each other’s backs.”

Leander shifted his attention to the blonde witch seated beside him to see her fully focused, quill poised above her little notebook. Montgomery had that eager to please aura that came from the newly qualified, and he remembered his first proper field work when he joined the Auror Office, that hunger to achieve and impress. 

She felt his gaze on her and glanced his way, her eyes brightening with excitement. “I’m guessing it’s me and you, partner,” she smiled. “You’re not going to leave me behind this time, are you?”

He shook his head, smirking at her upbeat expression. “Indeed it will be you and I teaming up. Potentially, your first proper taste of facing down some Ashwinders. Are you ready for possible combat?” 

A fire blazed in the depths of her eyes. “Absolutely,” she said firmly. 

Back at his desk, Leander brushed his thumb over his Auror badge before slipping it back into his pocket, his attention drawn to the framed photographs of his family. The life of an Auror was one lived on a constant edge. Tonight’s raid was another gamble at becoming injured, or perhaps an opportunity to face Death himself. He knew the risks, as did his family. It was the chance you took when you signed up for this life. He wasn’t sure if it was something that you ever got used to, but you faced it all the same. He supposed that was where the bravery came in, and it was telling when you considered that a high percentage of the Auror Office had come from Gryffindor house. 

Adjusting his tie, and donning his Auror robe, Leander tucked his chair neatly under his desk and straightened the quill placed in its holder before walking across to Montgomery’s desk. Already in her robe, she smiled up at him. “Is it time to go?”

“If you’re ready,” he nodded. “We are to take the Floo to the docks, and make our way up the cliff side from there. The border Auror team will direct us.”

“I’ve never been to Dover,” Montgomery said, tucking her wand away. “I hear the white cliffs are rather impressive, and topped by a magnificent castle. I never really paid much attention to history, but Dover is one of those places that really stands out.”

“It’s been a strategic border defence for centuries,” he replied, standing aside to allow her to pass through the office doors first as they walked. “It’s Britain’s closest dock for Europe, and so there has always been a strong border force for trade and military purposes. I have been there a few times. It’s very busy, but well organised by both a Muggle and wizarding world presence, and has been for hundreds of years.”

She gave him a warm smile as they approached the Atrium. “It sounds like you paid attention in history class.”

He felt a blush warm his cheeks, his fingers lifting to touch at his tie. “I suppose you could say that, and I do like to read. It’s a relaxing way to wind down out of the office.” 

As they neared the rows of green flames flickering in the Floo fireplaces, they slowed their step, pausing before one of the portals. 

“I do hope MC has given you correct information,” Montgomery said thoughtfully, offering him her arm. Leander slipped a polite hand around the crook of her elbow. “You don’t think she would send us into a trap, do you?” 

Leander stared into the green flames, a tightness growing in his chest. “No, I don’t think she would do that. Her information is sound to the best of her knowledge.” 

“You place a lot of trust in her considering she is an ex-prisoner,” she said, gazing curiously at him. “A prisoner who was convicted and sent down for the murder of an Auror, no less.” 

Leander’s face hardened with determination. “Things aren’t always what they seem, Miss Montgomery. There is more to MC than what happened with that Auror, and I know that she despises Rookwood as much as we do. What she is doing for us is no easy feat. Deep in the Ashwinder camp, she risks her own life to pass on this information. I doubt she would do it needlessly, or recklessly.” 

“I hope she deserves such stout loyalty, Mr Prewett,” she said, the green glow of the flames reflected in her shrewd eyes. “We are about to enter the aforementioned Ashwinder territory on her word alone. I merely seek a little reassurance as to our chances out there.” 

“As an Auror, our chances are always hanging on the roll of the dice,” he said, but gave her arm a reassuring pat anyway. “Fear not, we are a good team, and I shall watch your back. That’s a promise. Shall we?” 

Her smile had a twinge of nervousness, but she nodded her consent to leave. Leander stepped towards the flames, his hand linked to her arm, and stated the Port of Dover as their destination. 

….*….

Echoes of the sea winds filled the dark, damp tunnel with eerie whines. They were old passageways, narrow and carved by hand through the chalk. Wands raised, and his senses on high alert, Leander stalked carefully through the dark with Montgomery. The Aurors stationed at the port had briefed them well, with some coming along to assist in the raid. He was confident that everything should fall in their favour. 

The tunnel wound upwards, the occasional vent allowing fresh air to circulate, weak beams of light offering slight relief from the claustrophobic atmosphere. They came to a fork in the path and he looked to Montgomery, using hand gestures to signal which path to take rather than speak and risk the echo of their voices giving them away. She nodded and moved to take the path, but the sound of screams and explosions began to come from the opposite tunnel. 

The fight was on. 

There was no time to think, only act. Taking off at a run, with Montgomery at his heels, they hurried towards the sound of spell casting, the flicker and flash of magic soon beginning to light up the tunnel ahead. When they came to the end of the tunnel, the space opened up into a cavern with a low ceiling, crates and sacks of goods stored against the chalk carved walls. 

Two Aurors were duelling with a group of Ashwinders, a few of them already down. Leander blocked a hex that shot past him, falling easily into fighting mode as he dived for cover behind some crates, firing a retaliation towards the rear of the cave. Using the storage as cover, he fought alongside his colleagues, ducking and maintaining a well trained combat strategy. 

A crate to his left exploded, splinters and dust flying out in all directions. He felt something catch his cheek with a sharp sting, but ignored it, rolling behind some more boxes as Montgomery hurried to join him. 

“Prewett! Are you alright?” She exclaimed, putting a hand to his shoulder to try and get a look at his face. 

“I’m fine,” he insisted, immediately spotting a familiar blonde haired witch stepping out from behind crates. Her gaze fixed firmly on him with interest, her wand arm aimed and ready.

”Prewett?” She purred, a slow smirk lifting her mouth. She was prettier than her wanted poster, but there was no mistaking who she was. Luella Rookwood. “I do believe I have heard of you.” 

A spell burst from the end of her wand, and Leander didn’t even think twice before he grabbed Montgomery and pulled her to the ground beside him as spells flew over their heads from all directions. If he hadn’t, the cast would have hit her right in the back, and his new partner was not going to get hurt on his watch. Montgomery grunted as she landed face first into the dusty floor, the brightness of the spell almost blinding him before he felt it slam into his chest. 

He could hear a muffled scream, but his chest was on fire with a searing pain, his eyes seeing white spots from the lingering glare of the spell. He was thrown back against the crates, the back of his head making contact with a sickening crack that made the world seem to spin before it went out of focus. 

It was pain, colours fading into darkness, an unbearable weight on his chest, and a female voice screaming his name. Then all was black. 

Sebastian

The book lay atop his bed bunk. There was not a speck of dust on it, the cover exactly as it had been when he had first laid eyes upon it. As much as it was hard to comprehend how it could possibly be sitting there now right in front of him, a thrill of excitement at the sheer brilliance of it was enough to accept it. 

“What should we do with it?” MC asked. She stood beside him, her eyes also fixed on the ancient tome. 

“Hide it,” he replied immediately, picking up the satisfying weight and resisting the urge to hold it against his chest as though to protect it. “Under no circumstances can Rookwood get his hands on this.” 

MC eyed the book and shivered, folding her arms tightly in front of her chest. She hadn’t touched it, but her eyes had been curious once the initial shock of its discovery had faded. 

Upon entering the catacomb where the deposit had been found, she had moved towards the centre of the room, her gaze fixed upon something that he couldn’t see. His stomach had churned standing in the doorway, dark memories threatening to swallow him whole as he stared at the ground where Solomon’s body had fallen. Seeing his uncle dead on the ground had been jarring, of course, but the pain of loss had been greater when Anne had turned her cold eyes on him and then disappeared. 

There could be no words capable of describing that sense of abandonment and loneliness. 

As MC had paced slowly in a circle, her wand aimed at nothing, Sebastian’s gaze had been drawn towards the stone altar to the left of the room. Every candle and torch had been illuminated upon their entry, lighting up the space to reveal the scattered bones and debris, glinting off the macabre baubles of spider silk wrapped prey above their heads. To add to the visibility, a shaft of sunlight came from a hole in the ceiling, the beams highlighted by the dust motes they had disturbed, lending the chamber an ethereal look. 

A sense of the impossible had washed over him, and he paused for a moment, seriously considering the idea that he had perhaps entered a dream. He’d blinked a few times, taking an uncertain step forward, his boot crunching on an old bone fragment underfoot. There, on the altar, had stood a book. It was propped up and open as though the reader would be back in just a moment, the pages bright from the nearby candle. Forgetting that MC was preparing to absorb the deposit behind him, he had approached the altar and a strangled sound of disbelief had escaped his throat. 

Slytherin’s grimoire stood as solid and legible as the day it was made, right there on the altar, which couldn’t be possible. Anne had blasted the tome to pieces in her rage that day, destroying the chance of Sebastian ever experimenting with the aged magic again. At least, that is what they had believed. Until now.

Of course, he had brought it with them, unable to leave such a precious artefact of significance there in those wasted caverns. MC had been wary of it, and still was, her apprehension compounded by her recent discovery of her Slytherin bloodline. The look she gave him now back in the tent, a glint of suspicion there with her wariness, made him bring the book closer to his chest after all. 

“The last time you used that book, terrible things happened,” she said carefully. “Perhaps you ought to hide it somewhere far out of reach lest you be tempted to use it again. I can’t believe it reincarnated itself. How does that even happen?” 

“You sound like Ominis,” he moaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to begin mastering the dark arts. It’s merely educational. Isn’t it just brilliant, though? Slytherin truly was a master of magic. Of course he would enchant his books against destruction. It’s genius!” 

MC sighed and shook her head. “I feel like I should enchant you against destruction,” she muttered, removing her cloak and dropping it onto the bed. 

His smirk at her words faded as he watched her open her bag and take out a hair brush, loosening her braid so that she could smooth out her hair. She was making herself comfortable in his space, and that was a promising sign. Perhaps she would stay in here with him rather than return to her own tent within the camp. He certainly had no objections to that. 

“How do you feel after absorbing the deposit?” He asked, admiring the way her hair shone like silk in the glow of the lamp. 

Her hands stilled and she bit her lip, her eyes sheepish as they swung towards him. “I have a confession to make,” she said, twisting the brush in her hands. “I didn’t actually absorb the magic deposit.” 

His eyes widened. “Why in Merlin’s name not? Was that not the plan?” 

Her mouth tightened. “It’s Rookwood’s plan. I found that once I was there, I didn’t want to take that magic into myself. Like you said, it couldn’t be filled with much good considering the circumstances of how it came to be. Much like Isadora’s huge repository under Hogwarts, it seemed to seethe with darkness. I don’t want that inside of me, Seb, even more so when it was so personally connected to us both. I figured we have enough darkness between the two of us already.”

“So, it’s still down there?” He frowned at the thought. What if another like MC came along and discovered it? 

“Not exactly,” she said, dropping the hair brush onto the bed. “I moved it.” 

He watched as she slipped a shiny phial from her pocket and held it up. “It’s in here,” she said, giving it a wiggle. “This is a flask made of goblin silver. It was a gift from Professor Fig. It belonged to his wife. Through my conversations with Lodgok, I learned a great deal about how ancient magic and goblin silver can work together. So, rather than absorb the magic into myself, I will store it inside this until I have decided what to do with it. Of course, much like Slytherin’s book, nobody else can know about this.” 

“You have my word,” he said, stepping closer to admire the silver flask. 

“I mean it,” she said, her face firm. “This is strictly between us. I don’t even want the Ministry to know about this. Our little secret.” 

He met her gaze, his fingertips reaching to touch against the silver chain at her neck. It felt like bonds were strengthening between them, she was gradually becoming closer, and it warmed him. “Our little secret,” he whispered. “I cannot help but wonder, though, sweetheart. Why not just absorb it into yourself? Surely that would be much safer than risking this flask falling into the wrong hands.” 

“Even if someone did get their hands on this, they wouldn’t know what was inside unless they were a vessel of ancient magic,” she said, smoothing her thumb over the pretty silver. “I’m the only one who can see it, so to anyone else, it’s just a lovely trinket. As for not absorbing it myself, I’m not sure I want it, Sebastian. It’s already such a burden to carry, and it is becoming all that anyone sees when they look at me. The girl with all the power. Do I really need any more of it?”

Her eyes were dark and fathomless, pools you could get lost in. They truly were a pair of lost souls in the dark, but she was beginning to trust him again. He stroked back her hair, his fingers sliding through the silky softness. As he pressed a kiss to her forehead, she closed her eyes. “That's not all I see,” he murmured. “We will keep the magic safe until all this is over. After that, we will have the rest of our lives to figure out the rest.” 

As she was about to lean into him, a commotion sounded from outside the tent, raised voices and the thudding of feet. They exchanged a quick glance of curiosity before he swiftly conjured the book into a hidden pocket. MC did the same with her goblin flask and they withdrew their wands. 

“Is the camp under attack?” She asked as they hurried for the exit. 

“It could well be,” he replied, adrenaline already beginning to spike as he paused to lift the door flap. He gave her a look. “If it’s Aurors, then let’s hope this doesn’t blow your cover. That article in the Daily Prophet about you was rather damning.” 

“They wouldn’t risk it,” she said, shaking her head. “The only one in contact with me is Leander, and he wouldn’t do anything like this without telling me first.” 

Sebastian arched one eyebrow. “Such faith you have in him,” he muttered sourly. 

“Let’s just see what’s going on out there, shall we?” She snipped, jabbing her wand towards the entrance. 

The sun was descending behind the peaks of the mountains as they emerged from the tent. A few Ashwinders were gathered at the campfire, heads bent in discussion. The rest of the camp appeared quiet, no sign of the camp leader, and Sebastian turned his attention towards Rookwood’s tent. The lamps outside were lit, and Ashwinders were entering. He whistled to catch the attention of the nearby camp members. “What’s happening?” 

The taller of the two turned, his gaze lingering on MC. “A raid down at Dover, apparently. Lulu turned up all battle worn, spitting fury. She’s in with the boss man as we speak,” he said, aiming his thumb towards Rookwood’s tent. 

“Dover?” Sebastian frowned. “What kind of raid?” 

“They found the tunnel stores. Whole place was crawling with the bastards. The fight was bad, think we lost a few,” he grunted. Then his eyes gleamed as a wicked grin curved his mouth. “Got ourselves a couple of captives, though. Should make for a bit of sport.” 

MC visibly stiffened beside him, and Sebastian felt a chilling realisation trickle down his spine. Keeping his gaze on the Ashwinder, he nodded. “Sounds like there are stories to be shared,” he said smoothly. “I will check in with Rookwood in a moment.” 

The Ashwinder merely shrugged and turned back to his companion. Before another word could be uttered, he clamped his hand around MC’s wrist and Apparated them both a short distance away into the trees. As they landed onto a thick carpet of leaves, she gasped, stumbling slightly. 

“I wish you would bloody warn me before you do that,” she snapped, brushing the loose curtain of hair back from her face. 

He didn’t want to believe that this warmth she had been showing him was an act of trickery, but the nagging suspicion clung like ice claws to the back of his neck, the dark shadows of his insecurities crowded his head and obliterated all else. The shadows were lengthening, dusk already claiming the darkness under the trees as though in sympathy with him. He watched her carefully, his body tense. 

“Tell me it wasn’t you,” he asked slowly. 

She frowned. “What do you mean?” 

He huffed and began to pace, pushing his hand through his hair. “I’m not sure how you would do it, though, that’s the problem. I mean, you have been with me the whole time.” He turned his gaze back onto her. “It’s just funny how we have a little conversation about the tunnels down at Dover, and now the place is crawling with Aurors. Is it a coincidence, MC? Or was that your word they acted on?” 

She went very still, her face closing off into that cold way she had when she felt threatened. “Even if it was by my word, aren’t we on the same side here? You make it sound like the raid was a personal attack on you.” 

“I don’t care about the damned raid,” he said, stepping towards her. “I’m more interested in the idea of you using me to gain information on the sly. How would you even get that message to Prewett so fast? You have no owl to hand, and you haven’t left my side. Is he nearby? Is he following us?” 

“It sounds like you don’t trust me, Sebastian,” she said, her jaw tightening. 

“I want to,” he said, his voice pained. Those cold fingers of fear tickled at his neck. “If you want information, you only have to ask. I am on your side. If you were going to pass anything on to the Aurors, why can’t you tell me?” 

Her eyes dipped away, her head bowing slightly, and that curdling jealousy twisted thickly in his gut. “It’s because it's him, isn’t it? Whatever secret thing you have going on with Prewett, you don’t want me involved.” 

“You already know I am his informant, Sebastian,” she sighed. “Why is it such a surprise that I would tell him things? We all want the same outcome here. Isn’t that the priority?” 

He began to pace again, thinking fast. Pushing back the encroaching darkness that waited in the wings of his head, he tried to focus on the raid, and the implications of it. Above all else, their self preservation came first. If the Aurors were tortured, or worse, cast upon with Imperio, then their cover would be blown.

“Do you think Prewett would have gone to the tunnels?” He huffed a bitter laugh and shook his head. “Wait, of course he would go. He can’t help himself.” 

“Wait, what are you suggesting?” Her face paled and she turned her gaze back towards the glow of the camp fires through the trees. She shook her head, fear in her eyes. “No, no…” 

“I hate to say it, but I doubt Prewett is one of the captives,” he said begrudgingly. If there was one thing he could credit to the man, it was his ability to hold his own in a duel. He would never tell the proud Gryffindor, but he had been one his toughest opponents growing up. All the more reason to bait him all the time. “Whoever it is, they are a risk to you, and what we are doing here.”

“Where would they take captives? That holding tent where Rookwood had that lad beaten?” 

Sebastian sighed and nodded. “Most likely.” 

He blinked, and she was gone, the crack of her Disapparating a sharp echo under the trees. He stared at the spot where she had been standing mere seconds ago, his gut twisting sharply. “Fuck,” he swore, gritting his teeth. 

MC

Her pulse seemed to throb in her ears as panic restricted her throat, but she kept her steps calm and deliberate as she stalked down the side of the tent where she had witnessed the punishment of that Ashwinder lad. Peering around the corner, she saw two guards at the entrance, and assessed her options. She merely wanted to look. She just wanted to know if it really was Leander inside the tent. If so, her actions had put him there. 

Thinking of the violence with which the Executioner had treated one of their own in punishment, it made her shudder to imagine what they would do to two Aurors. Even if it turned out not to be Leander, could she allow such a thing to take place? In order to maintain her cover, she might have to, and she didn’t think she would be able to stomach it. 

Perhaps walking boldly up to the guards and asking for admittance would be enough. She was very powerful after all, Rookwood’s little pet. Or perhaps a swift Petrificus Totalus would be in order. Either way, she had to know who was in the tent. 

As she was about to step out, a hand clamped over her mouth and she was yanked backwards. Her muffled squeal was silenced as Sebastian fixed his pointed glare up close to her face, his brows drawn down in temper. 

“What do you think you are doing?” He hissed. “Are you trying to get us in the shit, or what?” 

She struggled against his grip, but he held her firm. She glared at him, hoping her eyes would singe his stupid face. Just when she thought things between them could reach an even keel, he had managed to piss her off yet again, throwing around his over protective jealousy. In her efforts to wriggle free, his hand slipped a little and she managed to open her mouth enough to give him a sharp nip with her teeth. 

“Ah, you little bitch,” he hissed, shaking his hand. “You bit me!” 

“You want to treat me like an animal, then expect to get bitten when you corner me,” she said, her words a harsh whisper. “Don’t grab me like that again!” 

“If you go in there and do anything to help those captives, the game is up, MC,” he insisted, taking hold of her shoulders, his face firm. 

He was right, but she kept her head up, determination making her rigid under his hands. “I’m not stupid, Sebastian. I know there are risks, but…” She wavered, swallowing past the tightness in her throat. “I need to know if he is in there. I can’t just stand by and do nothing and let them hurt him.” 

Sebastian dipped his head, frustration coming from him in waves. “Fine,” he hissed, and began to drag her away towards the rear of the tent. “Then we check it out first, but out of sight. This way.” 

He dragged her around to the rear of the tent and dropped to the ground, loosening a tent peg just enough to pull the fabric up. He nodded to the flattened grass before him. “I’ll hold it up, you get down and have a peek.” 

She dropped to her knees and pressed her cheek to the cool grass, a faint glow from a torch appearing under the flap of fabric. She squinted against the light after the dimness outside, her eyes adjusting. Her gaze swept the tent, and then she tensed when she spotted the two figures sitting on the dirt flooring, tied back to back against a post with rope. One of them was a petite, blonde girl, no more than twenty, her head hanging low against her chest. The other was a very familiar, tall red head, covered in blood, his body limp and apparently unconscious. Tears burned her eyes as she pushed herself upright, a hollow opening up in her chest. 

“It’s him,” she said, the words not much more than a whimper. “Gods, it’s him.” 

She met Sebastian’s eyes, not even bothering to swipe away the tear that rolled down her cheek. The hardness she saw in Sebastian’s eyes filled her with a sense of foreboding, but then he sighed, his shoulders dropping. A look of determination came into his gaze, a spark of hope flaring in her chest. 

“Alright,” he said, spinning his wand artfully in his fingers. He met her gaze. “I guess this is where I prove that I will do literally anything for you, MC. We need a plan.” 

To be continued...

Ivy Montgomery is an OC belonging to @eternalremorse and used with her kind permission.

Taglist: @slytherin-paramour @writing-intheundercroft @marketfreshfics @evaslytherpuff @sevprince-91 @loving-him-was-red13 @lucy-withthediamonds-inthesky

[vivzzi]

ditto

part two , part three

The sounds of the cold breeze and students gossips fill the microphone on the camera. You show your homemade rice bowl you prepared for yourself for lunch and with a swift movement of the camcorder you show Shuntaro’s very plain bento box that contains rice, one fried egg and some greens. The camera moves slowly up to his face while he swallows the food. 

“Move that thing out of my face” 

The fake gasp you let out was picked up by the microphone. 

“excuse you but i’m trying to make memories with this” 

You point at the camcorder and move it back to Shuntaro’s face then to his meal then back to his face. All the camera gets is a smirk from Shuntaro. 

“Go film yourself instead of me and my lunch” 

“No because like i said i need to capture these memories. in 10 years we will look back at this and laugh at your very much depressing lunch.” 

Instead of the microphone picking up yet another sarcastic remark from Shuntaro it picks up the loud school bell hinting the start of their next lesson.Gym class. 

The camcorder is set down on the bench while it records you and Shuntaro packing up your meals and textbooks that were already out from studying. You pick up the camera and throw your bag over your shoulder. 

The shakes from the camera caused from the sprinting are visible since you and Shuntaro were already running late. 10 minutes late to be exact. The loud footsteps and panting filling the school hallway from running is clear to the camera’s microphone along with the laughs from both you and Shuntaro. 

Moving the camera to face behind you it catches Shuntaro’s moving legs while the rest of his body is glitching out. What else can you blame apart from the old camcorder. 

“come on shun you can run faster than that” 

The camera cuts off. 

The first thing the camera picks up is the students in the gymnasium playing basketball, capturing it from the side of the gym with a low angle close to the ground. 

“whats the whole point of filming gym class? pretty sure you wouldn’t want this to be a memory.” 

“Whenever we’re together memories are basically being made so of course i’m going to be filming this” 

Shuntaro’s annoyed face is being filmed. You smile looking at him through the view finder. 

“come on smile a bit more when youre with me.”

He looks at the camera and gives it a fake smile but a small glitch follows with it. 

“perfect” 

the rest of the footage is the basketball game happening in front of you and the camera while sitting on the ground spectating. 

The camera lens has water drops all over it from the current rain thats coming down. You show your white bicycle that has small spots of mud covering most of the white parts and Shuntaro’s sage green bicycle that he’s walking next to while pulling it with him. 

“you should’ve brought a jacket”

The camcorder is moved upwards to show shuntaros straight face with his hoodie covering his hair. 

“maybe you should give me yours and be a gentleman” 

“i cant do that” 

The sigh you let out is noticeable. You put the camera in your bike basket as you push some of the wet strands of hair from your face. The camera shows your path to the main road from your school. Yellow street lights with the dark blue sky due to the sun already setting because of the winter weather. The camera stays in the basket while it records the background sounds of the rain and your footsteps occasionally stepping in random puddles. 

you stop once the path ends leading you to the main road. you pick up the camera to show Shun’s while he stands next to you and your bike with his bike being set next to him. 

“say bye to the camera” 

You say as your hand can be seen waving at him towards the left hand side of the screen. He looks at the camera with a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“bring a coat next time” 

He turns right walking down the main street. You continue to record him even though the camera lens is full of fog and water droplets. Soon enough he turns into a blur of white and brown from his hoodie and brown school pants. 

you place the camera back into your basket leaving it to record and turn left not wanting to look back at Shuntaro. you mount your bike and ride down the street with the sounds of cars beeping and puddles being splashed by your bike. 

The camera dies. 

AN: This is the first part of the ditto series but before i post the rest of the chapters i wanna know if you guys actually enjoyed this. Also sorry if the writing is kinda shit, i haven’t wrote fanfic in a while and i really wanted to start writing for aib before season 2 comes out. Please leave your opinions in the comments.

<3 viv 

[eyelessfaces]

memoir | llewyn

a collection of small scenes with more or less context.

the different drabbles are not connected to each other. the relationships and the dynamics between our characters may differ.

warnings/deals with: implied depression, professional failure, insomnia, smoking, implied sexy times and spicy stuff in drabble 3

total word count: 1.4k;

drabble 1: 387 | drabble 2: 611 | drabble 3: 412

The dried leaves softly creaked in a sharp sound under your feet. You sighed in anticipation, the air coming out of your mouth visible, turned into fog due to the cold temperature. 

You were walking back and forth, nervously swaying in place as you waited, waited and waited. 

After what felt like an eternity, you turned at the sound of the building door opening and closing. Llewyn stood in place as you looked at him and searched the glimpse of a hint regarding the outcome of his audition in his eyes, and when he pinched his lips in a weak, defeated smile and stiffly shook his head you understood that it went just like the Gate of Horn audition. 

A small wail escaped your mouth as you threw your arms around him, bringing him into a tight hug. He sighed tiredly and put his guitar case at his feet, hugging you back and propping his chin on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry, baby” you whispered as you cupped the back of his head, burying your hand in the warmth of his dark curls. He blinked numbly, his half gloved fingers grasping a handful of the fabric of your thick winter coat.

Llewyn took a deep breath, closed his eyes and finally leaned into your embrace, giving up. He nuzzled your scarf, taking in the familiar scent that somehow consoled him a bit.

Your hand softly stroked his back. “We’re just gonna go home, and we’ll… We’ll figure something out. We’ll find something else.” you declared, doing your best to show him that it was okay and that if he needed to try again, you would be there for him. You wouldn’t give up on him so easily, you wanted him to be aware of that.

He licked his chapped lips before pulling away from your embrace, brushing back the hair falling over your face and leaving a kiss at your forehead. 

He weakly nodded and threw a faint smile at you, the exhaustion and frustration visible as the corner of his eyes crinkled slightly.

He picked up his guitar case, and reached to grab your cold hand. 

You walked back home in silence as he rubbed your knuckles softly, sorry that he had disappointed you once again.

But after all, it wasn’t like he wasn’t used to failure.

The bathroom faucet had been leaking in a deaf sound for way too long now.

If he hadn’t been lying to his own face when he thought he would shrug off the sound of the water drops crashing in a steady rhythm and fall asleep shortly, he would have closed it sooner.

But as his eyes were still wide open very much against his will, he knew he had no other choice than to get out of bed and stop that damn irritating sound.

His feet lazily dragged him out of the bedroom, and he took the sight of you sleeping so peacefully thanks to the faint light the street lamps shot in the room, before closing the door after him. 

The night had cooled off, the feeling of the tile under his bare feet now sending a shiver through his spine, contrasting with how different it had felt hours ago, the suffocating air of the heatwave making you go as far as having to lay down on your kitchen floor in just your underwears to hope it would refresh you even just a bit.

As if the insomnia wasn’t already enough, Llewyn also had a headache weighing over his temples, so instead of closing the faucet, he poured himself a glass before finally stopping the sound that had been resonating in his head for too damn long.

He sighed and rummaged through the collection of boxes and containers of medicine on the shelf beside the sink, catching his reflection in the mirror. 

His need for sleep was more than noticeable, the alarming size and deep shade of his eyebags horrifying him. His disheveled curls were getting too long for him to survive that dry summer, and maybe tomorrow – more precisely today, as it was way past midnight – if he could get to it with some sleep, would be a good day to ask you for a haircut.

Finally finding the right amber colored tube containing the painkillers, he mindlessly poured a couple pills and swallowed them without thinking about it twice. Drinking down the entirety of the glass, he let it sit on the side of the sink and quickly left the bathroom before he risked making eye contact with his own reflection again.

He went back to bed, and wearily looked at the orange reflection of the window cast by the street lamps on the wall he had spent so many nights staring at. He sighed softly, and as his chest heaved down, a soft smile grew upon his face when he felt your arms reaching for him.

You hummed quietly as you wrapped your arms around him, scooting closer and pressing your chest against his back.

The comforting warmth of your body was more than appreciated now. He closed his eyes as you buried your face in his curls, pressing a soft kiss at the back of his neck. The faint smell of his shampoo invaded your nostrils and you peppered a few more kisses on the exposed skin of his shoulder.

“What’s keepin’ you awake?” you mumbled, your voice quiet and hazy with sleep as you tangled your legs with his.

“Don’t worry” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours over his stomach.  

He exhaled morosely, his breath matching your own as it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep again. He brought your tangled hands to his mouth and softly kissed your knuckles.

“Don’t worry” he muttered again, more to himself than anything else this time.

When you woke up the next morning, he was freshly asleep, soft snores escaping his mouth, his hand still firmly holding yours.

You didn’t dare move away from him.

Mental note to yourself: never underestimate a dedicated and passionate musician. 

While you were still laying naked on the floor, your clothes still sprawled messily in the middle of your living room, Llewyn had put his jeans back on long ago, guitar on his lap and cigarette nestled against his lips.

If your climax had knocked every ounce of energy out of you, Llewyn’s did the whole contrary.

It was rare to see him so dynamic and so vivacious, hastily scribbling down chord progressions and lyrics on his notebook. He hummed the lyrics as much as the cigarette between his lips allowed him to, bouncing his leg in rhythm as he pinched the strings of his guitar, nodding to himself when something sounded good and correcting stuff here and there when it didn’t sound good enough. 

Frankly, you admired his ability to get up and move on so fast. He had thanked you after peppering your whole face with kisses, grabbing his guitar as a wave of inspiration hit him.

Would it be too much going as far as calling you his muse? Maybe it would be a bit pretentious and dramatic, but Llewyn liked to think of you that way as you clearly fit the definition for him.

If making sweet love to you on your living room floor inspired him that much, maybe you would have to do it more often. 

A soft sigh escaped your mouth as you finally got up from the floor, the thin sheen of sweat long gone from over your skin. Every limb of your body felt sore as you moved, but if you had to do it again you would do it in a heartbeat. Llewyn was a good lover, and even if he knocked the air out of your lungs, he knew how to push the right buttons to make you feel good.

You traveled to the kitchen for a well needed glass of water, and came back to the living room, reaching for the clothes you had discarded so hurriedly in the frenzy of the moment. 

“No babe” Llewyn declared as he stopped playing, looking up at you. The strings hissed at his fingers traveling back to the top of the neck of the guitar, and you looked at him with a clueless expression as you stopped in the middle of your action. “I wanna write about how you taste.”

Mental note to yourself: never ever underestimate a dedicated and passionate musician.

I am trying this new format, please give me feedback!

inside llewyn davis taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @scarabgrant @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @missmarmaladeth @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @beccabecs521

[written2her]

The intro:

Our little drama is a story that is told in hundreds of towns in rural America. Beautiful Sasha the hometown prom queen that everyone remembers. And really who could blame them? She is the curvaceous American beauty that every man wants and every woman wants to be. Her warm brunette curls bounce and sway as much as her round ample breasts. Her five four stature is hard to believe, with her long legs seemingly reaching heaven. Heaven is the only way to describe that thick luscious ass. And all of that is surpassed by that girl next door's face that the sun rises every day to see. Sasha was that elusive catch that everyone wanted to get in their mitts. She spent her days as a receptionist for the local family law office. They rarely had any clients. Taggert Thompson, the son of an oil tycoon, kept the office open and Sasha paid well, hoping one day she,out of gratitude, would let him have his way with her. She answered phones and occasionally brought Taggert his coffee or lunch. Her dreams were crushed when she had to return home from law school due to her parents declining ability to make ends meet. She lived in her little loft apartment right on the edge of the family farm. Day by day, the routine was mundane. Then out of the blue everything started to change. Bishop was back in town.

Bishop was a gorgeous man. What Greek gods dreamed to look like. From his towering six seven frame to the muscles chiseled out of granite. His arms covered in scars and tattoos seem to always glisten as the veins in his forearms bulged. Speaking of bulges, his rod was visible through coveralls from down the street. The years of being a United States Marine really crafted a true work of art. He came back after his dad had passed to look after the family's place. Unsure of what his role in the town would be or if he would even stay. He put his skills and knowledge to use just being the local handy man. He was always hesitant to return home. Here is where he was betrayed and overlooked. This is where he felt pain and sadness. War couldn't break him,not like she did.

Tuesday at Bill's Bakery and Bistro, Sasha came in as usual. She always stopped by on Tuesdays to pick up Taggert's lunch. "Ten minutes Sasha. The oven has been broke all morning " shouted Bill from the back. "Have a seat sweetie and have what you need shortly." Just then Bishop emerged from the back. Sasha's jaw dropped and her panties moistened. There before her stood the boy she had a crush on as a young girl. Now as a well aged man. Covered in sweat, grease, and smute he stood there commanding every eye in to obedience. His white t-shirt clung to him as if it were a second skin. Holding tightly to his defined muscles adding contrast to bronzed sun kiss skin. Even covered with sweat and muck you can still smell the same after shave he wire in high school. He loads his tools in to his tool satchel meticulously. She catches herself staring in unadulterated awe. Luckily, not once has he looked her way. He dollars at Bill, they can settle up later as he walks to the door and without skipping step says "You still look amazing, Sasha." Walks to his truck and leaves. Half in awe still and half in a wet mess, Sasha sits there in disbelief of what she just saw. Bill brings her the order and trys speaking to her, but she was lost in a trance."Sasha!Sasha! Are you ok?" Bill's voice comes through the fog of lala land. "Yes, Bill, I am ok. I haven't seen Bishop in almost fifteen years."she mutters out still replaying the events in her mind.

Weeks had past since she had seen him in the dinner. She would see his truck here and there throughout their small town. Once she even drove by his family place, hoping to see just another glimpse of him. He alluded her sight at every turn. "Hello, Sasha."his voice voice she didn't even need to turn around. At the grocery store of all places. Of course everyone has to eat. She stands there frozen with the freezer door open the cold chilling her perspiring skin. Goose bumps cover her arms and legs. Her nipples harden as they had frozen solid. "HEL" as she turns she realizes he is much closer than she expected. Her arms swings as she turns grazing across the front of his jeans. "Lo. Oh, my gosh! I am so sorry, Bishop" she says panicky knowing full well she rubbed his cock. There he was towering over her, smiling and half shocked as her hand was still resting on the front of his pants."Did you find something you like?" He said with a devilish look in his eyes. "What, yes, of course I like it very much" noticing his member swell in his jeans. Now coming to grip with the truth of the moment. She has her hand on his bulge and that was what he was referring to. Yanking it back and grasping her other hand tightly. He smiled and gave her a sweet little side hug. He grabs a couple frozen meals and hands her his business card and tells her to call him sometime so they can catch up. As he leaves the aisle he turns and says "It was nice to see you again, I really enjoyed it." Dumbfounded again she stands there wondering what the hell is going on. She is always the one who is in control, but not around him. His presence is intoxicating and refreshing.

Days passed like seconds, and all Sasha could think about was him. Where Bishop was or what he was doing, when did he undress? Her curiosity turned to a feral hunger and his flesh was the only thing going to satisfy her. Remembering his card that he gave she searched her home for something broke so she could call him. Finding nothing, she had to improvise she removed her panties balled them up, and flushed them down the toilet. The water began to back up and without hesitating she called Bishop. "Hi, Bishop! This is Sasha. I am at the old barn apartment at my parent's place. The toilet is overflowing and I can get it to stop." She said in the most panicked force she could perform. He chuckled and told her he was right down the road and could be there in a couple of minutes. Rushing to the mirror she checked her makeup and hair. Adjusted her girls so they were spilling out her sundress. Nothing showing, but a good sneeze and they would be all but freed. Knocking at the door. Bishop wasn't kidding he was there wet vacuum and tools in hand. She opened the door flaunting everything the good lord blessed her with, "Thank you for getting here so soon" she chirped. With a laughing undertone he said " I heard you were all wet. I have the right tool for the job." Blushing she led him to the restroom, the floor now saturated. He got to work removing the water with his vacuum and spraying disinfectant. He plunged and snaked her toilet, seemingly further wedging her panties deeper into the pipes. He explained that he was going to have to pull the toilet and check her plumbing. As he turned his head to see her bent over toweling some water that had seeped into the hall. She peeks back knowing that she is giving him a good view. She catches him tilting his head and taking it all in. She realized that he us going to find her panties balled up in the drain.....PANTIES! SHE ISN'T WEARING ANY PANTIES! He was taking it all in as she stood there bent over offering her needy little holes to him. Frozen in half embarrassment and half arousal. She could feel herself begin to dew. Constantly peeking to see his reaction. He worked blindly never taking his eyes off her ever moistening slit. Slightly opening and closing as she worked the towel back and forth. His growing cock trying to tear through his jeans. She stands up and goes to the laundry room to put the towel in the washer. She starts the washer and begins to rub her clit. Thinking about him gazing at her exposed pussy. Watching his member come to life. She rubs her nearly exposed breast as she vigorously rubs her love bean. The washer began to shake, something that normally bothered her, but today she felt the vibrations. She pressed herself against it. Taking advantage of having both hands free she squeezed and groped her breasts and nipples. Pinching and twisting as the machine tickled her lady bits. Feeling her climax she bites her lip to muffle her moans of ecstasy. Bishop calls out "Almost all done in here." She composes herself and puts her fully aroused breast away.

[satanwritesfanfiction]

Heisenberg x f!reader || Stolen moments ^SMUT^

Title: Stolen moments

Ship: Karl Heisenberg x f!reader  

Tags:  smut, oral: female receiving, desk sex, no aftercare, porn with feelings

Characters: Reader, Karl Heisenberg  

Wordcount: 2790

***

It was hot. Humid. Uncomfortably so in  the factory, heat raging a fire through the limits of the walls. Sweat  gleaming against skin, dripping and shifting with the clench of muscle  whenever he flexed with the fastening of a bolt.  

Shirtless under  the onslaught of the rise in temperature but still wearing those dark  tinted glasses while his hair was haphazardly tied into a half-bun by a  piece of string he probably found just lying around. The cigar held  between his lips, smoke disappearing into the air. 

It was an  alluring image, however, it was unfortunate to feel the drumming in your  low abdomen at this time of day, more so to have your thoughts and eyes  linger when you definitely had some job you were supposed to be doing,  though the exact details were a little fuzzy at the moment.  

It  had been some time since the last time you fell victim to his charms but  then again, that had been different circumstances. It was unfortunate  that the thought wouldn't quench the thirst within you for a man you  should fear. Last time, was the heat of the moment, you reasoned. Today,  was just due to the heat of the day.  

"Are you going to keep  staring or help?" his voice echoed, casual in the way it reverberated  without lifting his eyes to regard you fully.  

Seconds passed  until you snapped back, shaking your head and starting in his direction.  "Yes. Yes of course." you stumbled through the words as you hurried to  his aid. "Anything you need."

He rose an eyebrow in question as  you stood beside him, a subtle quirk that was barely visibly behind  those dark tinted glasses and fortunately so on his part so the way his  eyes lingered were a bit hidden. He could feign innocence and at least  try to focus on the project at hand.  

"Get me a spanner. 13. Make  it quick." he stated, putting out his cigar on the table. In actuality  he could just fling it to himself but in the moment he needed the   distraction, the distance and sometimes it was just nice to know someone  would help.

You hurried to get what he asked, tools clinking   against each other as you quickly searched the numbers imprinted in the light until you found the right one and walked back, holding it out to him.

He took the spanner, letting it drop to the table   unceremoniously, forgotten for a moment as he fitted a plate into the   cavity of a soldat.  

"Hold the plate in place." again, you did as  you were told. Fingers pressing into the metal to keep it in place. "Do  not let it move." he instructed before making some further   adjustments.  

He pinned and fastened the plate. His brows   furrowed in concentration, a bead of sweat forming and slowly running   down his forehead which he wiped with the back of his hand. Admittedly, this angle on him was worse than where you had been standing previously,  worse on your sensibilities but not sight as your eyes ran down his  exposed skin, the smell of him invading your senses at the close  proximity or perhaps it was the smell of rust and oil pushing you to a  high.

"Ready?" he asked, smirk placed on his lips as he looked up  at you. The sound of his voice pulled you from your thoughts, blush  creeping across your cheeks as you looked into his eyes.  

You  smiled back at the man hoping it would hide your thoughts, nodding as you took a step back to create some distance. You took a breath to try and gather yourself, find some reason between the thoughts that fogged up your brain this morning.

He fiddled a bit more before the machine came to life, light glowing brightly before Heisenberg stood, glancing back at you.

"It lives." he grinned, hands dramatically raising to his sides.

"So  it does." you smiled, a genuine smile at the sight of his reaction. You  looked back at the machine, a marvel even if it was a little   problematic. Regardless of the circumstances, the man had brought back   life in some form and that was beyond what you had imagined you'd   experience in this lifetime.

Heisenberg watched you, the first   person to pay attention to his creations, never mind show some   appreciation for it. He took the chance to steal a glance, a small   consolation in the heat of the factory when he saw a little more of you than he normally would. He remembers a time when you were pressed   against him without a shred of clothing, it was a memory he held fondly but that wasn't something he was going to admit even to himself.. Not   yet, anyway.

He swallowed hard when you looked back at him with   that smile of yours, reminding him once more of just how out of place   you seemed in the factory baked in rust and oil. How out of place it was  that you looked at him the way you do. He knew he should've run from   it, for your sake more than his own but in the end, he had his own   selfish faults and after tasting friendship and well, more literally,   tasting you... He would give anything not to give that up.

He   inhaled deeply, your scent lingering in his lungs as he came to a   conclusion, making a choice even if it were compulsive and selfish.   Something that might further tangle the web that span around you both,   but Heisenberg was only a man. An enhanced man perhaps, but a man   nonetheless.

He took hold of his glasses and placed them on the table, smirk lingering on his lips when he looked at you.

"I  think we've done enough for today, don't you?" his fingers grazed your  skin, pushing a strand behind your ear. His hand lingered as he   contemplated, emotions flowing rapidly and violently beneath your skin   in the small stretch of time.

"I really want to kiss you right   now." his word finally filled the air that hung around you, closing the space between you and him. "Would you like that?"

You swallowed,  throat feeling a little dry at the open invitation. Your cheeks heated  up despite the already scorching temperature. He was asking for a   response that basically ended with a confession, despite the fact that   your feelings towards the man was never something you could hide well.

You  worried your lower lips and nodded, parting your lips when he dipped   his head down to marry your lips to his. Your hands softly pressed to   his bare chest, his free hand resting on your lower back as he pulled   you into him. The kiss started as one would guess, gentle and   questioning but with the quick passing of time, the exchange was heated,  pressing and pulling, lips parting easily for his tongue to slip   inside.

His fingertips pressed against your back and hips with   barely controlled heat, until he broke the kiss, your breath coming out slightly more labored than before as you opened your eyes and looked up  at him.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, voice soft as he   regarded you, eyes searching for any sign of resistance while his hands lingered on your hips.

You shook your head, perhaps a little too  fast, that spread the heat over your cheeks once more, although   Heisenberg didn't seem to mind in the least.  

"Good." a smirk   spread over his lips as devious as it was humid. "Because I've been   thinking of bending you over that table since you came in here."

There  was a sharp intake of air, excitement swirling in your lower belly at his words, a part of you wishing he had done just that but better late than never.

He lifted your body from the ground, an act that   seemed effortless while your cry echoed as it was released from your   lungs. Your legs wrapped around his hips while he carried you to the   table, metal bits flying in a direction before you were placed upon it   in a relatively open spot, the soldat now in your peripheral.

He   slotted his body between your thighs and crashed his lips upon yours, an  act that ultimately didn't last as long as you wanted when he broke the  kiss to pull your shirt over your head. You then quickly made work of  your bra to get it out of the way. He appreciated the action, punctuated  by the immediate cupping of your breasts in his rough hands, fingers  rolling over the bud and then teasing it between his fingers. You bit  into your lower lip as he played, each action adding to the need and  arousal swirling in your lower belly.

Moments passed and he grew  impatient, hands running down your bare stomach, fingertips tipping  inside the waistband, using the leverage to pop open the button of your  shorts, taking both your shorts and underwear when he dragged the piece  of clothing down your legs.

He took the spot between your legs  once more but now on his knees, eyes running over your naked form as he  pulled you closer to the edge of the table. He smirked up at you at the  first touch, fingers running over your clit in a barely there touch  before his tongue ran through your folds. He sucked on your clit, tongue  pressing and prodding when he slipped a finger into you and pumped  slowly before adding another.

You moaned softly as you leaned back  onto your arms to keep your weight, thinking how just his tongue and  fingers pumping into you was better than anything you could've done to  alleviate the need yourself. Your hand slipped into his hair, the tie  falling from the bun when you pulled against it.

His hands slipped under your butt, squeezing the flesh in his palm before lifting you to meet his mouth more explicitly.

You  were close, could feel it burning just under your skin, a few more   strokes and you'd be done for. That posed a slight problem for your   mind, you didn't want it to end, not so fast. His words, his touch, his tongue. Weeks of thinking about him, and in a few moments it comes   crashing down, the perfect image of him between your legs so momentary. It wasn't fair, half or even a third of the work already done for, if   you were to judge by your previous encounter. You wanted more, didn't   want to go back to how it was after the last time.

Despite the   protests, you came on his lips, legs clenching shut around his head for a  few moments before they fell open again. His motions slowed as you   cried out for him, and simmered until he stopped completely, lifting his  head from between your legs with a satisfied smirk placed on his   lips.  

"That's a good girl." he stated, voice rough but not   callous in the phrasing as he patted against your thigh two times. He   stood from his position, rising to his full height that hovered over   your seated one. His fingers lingered on your thighs, soft skin beneath his fingertips that he used to pull you forward until your feet hit the  floor beneath. He kept you from tumbling to the floor, an uneasiness in  your bones when the weight rested fully on them and so suddenly. "Turn  around, buttercup." his voice echoed, rough and firm that pressed  against your skin as he turned your body to face away from him.

Your  hands pressed against the rough surface of the desk while he pushed his  covered bulge against your backside, lips pressing a chaste kiss to  your bare shoulder, hands lingering on your hips.

"I've been   thinking about this for the longest time." he whispered against your   skin, hand leaving your hip to unbutton his pants. He pulled his cock   from its confines, rubbing himself against you for a moment, groaning at  the feel of your slick coating him before lining up to your entrance.

You  angled your body to allow him better access, biting into your lower lip  as you waited for him to stretch you over his cock, push you to the  edge and then perhaps some more.

He pushed in slowly, agonizingly  slow, stretching your cunt even through your recent high. He stopped  once he was fully sheathed, a slight change in breathing when his teeth  grazed over your shoulder.

"Fuck-" he cursed, hands holding onto  your hips tightly as he fought off the urge to just fuck into you with  reckless abandon. "You feel so good squeezing my cock."

You  moaned in response, sucking in breaths as you waited for your body to  adjust to his size so you could feel him slip in and out of you, feel  him use your body for his own pleasure and push that ecstasy in and out  of you until your screams gave out.

"Please.." you whimpered once you felt the pressure of being stretched mold into pleasure. "Heis.. Please move..."

The  plea had an air of sounding pathetic, whimpering and small. He grinned,  endless skin spread out before him to use as he wills and to have you  wanton and wishing for it was just the cherry on top.

His hips  gave a quick thrust into your body which elicited a whimper before he  pulled out almost all the way, just the head still pressed into your  body, before pushing back in, hand resting on your back and pressing you  flat against the desk.  

You opened your legs a bit more to allow  the needed space to push into you more, taking what he was willing to  give to you as his hips pistoned into you. The front of your legs pushed  against the cold metal of the table while he repeatedly filled you as  sweat beaded down your forehead and moans slipped freely from your lips.

"That's  it." he groaned. "Taking my cock so well, sweetheart." his hands curled  over your hips to the point of bruising, pulling you back against him  with each and every thrust.

You looked over your shoulder at the  man behind you, sweat beading down his forehead and silver strands  sticking to parts of his face as he moved within you. Teeth clenched and  eyes trained on where his cock was entering you. You bit into your lip,  feelings and thoughts swirling in your lower belly at the visage,  pulling your release ever closer.

"I'm close.." you, cried, fingers curling around the edge of the table and turning a pale white at the intensity.

There  was a brief falter in pace, his hand leaving your hip. He bent over   your body, lips pressed to your shoulder while his hand slipped   underneath you to rub at your clit.

"Don't let me stop you, (Y/n)." he stated, voice rough but less than composed. "I want to feel you come on my cock."  

His  finger circled your clit, brushing over the bud in time with the thrust  of his hips. It didn't take much for you to come undone, falling head  first off the edge. The feeling spread and bubbled under your skin,  walls clenching down on his cock while your body released onto him at  the cry of his name.

"That's my girl." he groaned, fingers no  longer pressing on your clit but the snap of his hips barely faltered,  pushing you past your orgasm and into his own, using your body for his  own pleasure until he came a few moments later pressed deep into you and  filling you with his warm seed.

A few moments spent connected  and catching his breath before he slowly removed himself from you,  watching as your combined highs leaked from you and started its journey  down your thigh. A beautiful sight in such a depressing village.

He  took two digits and pressed the leakage back inside you and held it for  a few moments more, relishing in how you whimpered at the contact  before pulling away from you once more.

He pulled you upright,  turning your body to face him and placing you on the table, pushing a  few strands almost delicately away from your face.

"You did  good." he swallowed, frozen in time for a moment. It's all he managed to  say. After everything, it's still all he managed to push out of his  lungs. There was so much more on his mind that he wished to voice, he  needed so much more than a few needy moments but using it as an excuse  to get close to you was infinitely easier than telling you, and himself,  the truth. Telling you the things hidden inside of him that even he  couldn't make sense of. So this was just how it had to be, just these  few stolen moments.  

[madelineserenity]

Can I request the reaper nurses and the dog girl who was familiar with them in the past and was their assistant (Since I like reaper nurses in dark deception and you write great about them, I thought you would do it)I really like your work with the reaper nurses.❤���💓

She's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel named Ellie because... I said so ok? Sorry this one took longer than I expected. I kept getting writer's block partially due to having constant brain fog/distractibility for the past week or two, for no obvious reason :/ it was going to be way longer but I just can't..

Quite some time ago, Ellie lived with the Reaper Nurses. A sweet little thing, standing at a total 5,2"/160cm, she'd always been so excited to be useful. Her cute, friendly temperament helped lower the guards of mortals seeking the soul shards and made patients feel better. Sadly, she had a crucial flaw; she was just too tiny and fragile for the work.

Ellie was easily knocked over by fleeing mortals. She wasn't strong enough to wield a syringe or carry supplies around the hospital. She was too light to tackle and easily shoved off, too excitable to be stealthy. All in all, she made for a wonderful companion, but an unfortunate Reaper Nurse.

Upsetting as it was for everyone, Ellie eventually found a new place with the Murder Monkeys. This way, she had plenty of friends her own size to teach her how to take advantage of the strengths she had. There was plenty of room to run around in her spare time and play. Everything would be fine. Even though Ellie and the nurses were heartbroken, everything would be fine. This was the best solution for everyone.

She hated it at first. She hated the unfamiliar location and smells, without the company of her nurses with her to make it worth it. She had to get used to brushing out her own curls, instead of having someone else to pamper her, like before. The Murder Monkeys were too busy for the snuggles she missed so badly and weren't particularly interested anyway. Ellie didn't like having knives so close, and besides, it didn't mean much. They weren't the people she wanted in the first place.

Adjusting was hard. She'd gone from having her favourite people never more than an arm's length away, to having them ripped away and having to go cold turkey. Lord Malak strictly forbade her from returning for any reason other than receiving medical attention. Even he seemed to find the situation regrettable, with pity somehow visible in his dark eyes. It had been the one and only time Ellie had seem a soft side of him, giving her a brief, awkward side hug before leaving after dropping her off at the hotel. Deep down, she knew he was right to separate her from the Reaper Nurses. Here, she could learn how to properly serve her Lord and not get in the way.

It got better over time. She busied herself with learning how to wield blades and practising with the monkeys. It took time, but she soon developed an impressive level of skill. Not being a very vocal breed, the monkeys learned to follow her sound when she yapped, and would soon find themselves surrounding intruders from all directions, with Ellie hot on mortals' tracks to corral them into the waiting knives, lightweight and agile on her feet. She never forgot her nurses, but she learned to live with the grief.

[theprinceofmycologia]

Alternia solani

Alternia solani is a fungal pathogen that produces a disease in various memebers of the Solanum genus called early blight.¹

Host plants

Host plants include various members of the Solanum genus. Such as tomato (Solanum lycopersicum), potato (Solanum tuberosum), aubergine (Solanum melongena), bell pepper (Capsicum annuum) and other pepper species (Capsicum spp.).²

Symptoms

The symptoms of early blight will vary depending on the host and plant tissue.²

Foliar symptoms are dark brown ranging to black necrosis. The first symptoms often appear on the older leaves as small, dark, necrotic lesions, a few millimetres in diameter, which increase in size. The lesions are sometimes restricted by leaf veins and will take on an angular shape. Within larger lesions, concentric rings (so called bullseye) can be seen, usually surrounded by a chlorotic, yellowing zone. The chlorosis can extend to the whole infected leaf. The infected lesions enlarge and the whole leaf becomes necrotic which results in premature defoliation.²

With tomato plants, the premature defoliation can cause injury to the fruits due to sunscald.²

"Bullseye" patterned leaf lesion of Alternaria solani on a tomato plant¹

On tomato, Alternia solani can cause symptoms on the stem. Dark and sunken lesions can appear on the stems of seedlings, called collar rot. The infected seedling shows reduced plant vigour or can die when the stem is completely girdled by the lesion. The main stem of adult tomato plants can also be infected, showing small, slightly sunken lesions. As on the leaves, typical concentric rings are visible on the infected stem.²

On green or ripe tomato fruits, dark lesions can occur at the end of the stem. Ripe fruits are less susceptible than semi-ripe ones. Heavily infected fruits will drop prematurely. On less resistant cultivars, the calyx and blossom also can be infected and show comparable symptoms.²

Stem lesion of Alternaria solani on a potato plant¹

The symptoms on potato tubers are dark, slightly sunken lesions (dry rot). The dry or hard rot of tubers causes storage losses, reduces the quality of table potatoes, and reduces the germination capacity of seed potatoes.²

Disease cycle

Alternaria solani has a polycyclic life cycle and reproduces asexually by means of conidia (spores).¹

A. solani is a necrotrophic pathogen: it kills the host tissue using cell wall degrading enzymes and toxins and feeds on the dead plant cell material.¹

The life cycle starts with the fungus overwintering in crop residues or wild members of the family Solanaceae. In the spring, conidia are produced. Multicellular conidia are splashed by water or by wind onto an uninfected plant. The conidia infect the plant by entering through stromata, small wounds, or direct penetration. Infections usually start on older leaves close to the ground. The fungus takes time to grow and eventually forms a lesion. From this lesion, more conidia are created and released. These conidia infect other plants or other parts of the same plant within the same growing season. Every part of the plant can be infected and form lesions. This is especially important when fruit or tubers are infected as they can be used to spread the disease.¹

Distribution and environment

Distribution of Alternia solani ²

Alternaria solani spores are universally present in fields where host plants have been grown.¹

Free water is required for the spores to germinate; spores will be unable to infect a perfectly dry leaf. Alternaria spores germinate within 2 hours over a wide range of temperatures but at 26.6–29.4 °C (79.9–84.9 °F) may only take half an hour. Another 3 to 12 hours are required for the fungus to penetrate the plant depending on temperature. After penetration, lesions may form within 2 to 3 days or the infection can remain dormant awaiting proper conditions. Alternaria sporulates best at about 26.6 °C (79.9 °F) when abundant moisture (as provided by rain, mist, fog, dew, irrigation, etc.) is present. Infections are most prevalent on poorly nourished or otherwise stressed plants.¹

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References

1.

2.

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Mutuals:

@squidsandthings

@fungus-gnats

@fairy-tales-of-yesterday

@flamingears

@lameotello

@lovelyalicorn

[govindhtech]

Baldur’s Gate 3: Launch Epic Adventures with ROG Ally

Baldur’s Gate 3 on ROG Ally: Performance Guide & Best Settings

What framerate Baldur’s Gate 3 players on the ROG Ally can expect

While you may play Baldur’s Gate 3 on the lowest settings and call it a day, there are a few options you can increase for an observable improvement in graphical quality without significantly degrading performance. The early game hung about 45 FPS on the low end and just under 60 FPS during fighting at 1080p with FSR set to Quality and the Ally in its 25W Turbo mode.link here

Due to the game’s namesake city and its lively populace, the later stages of the plot utilise a lot more CPU, but we discovered that it rarely dropped below 30 FPS with our settings, making for a perfectly playable adventure in Faerûn, especially given that BG3 is a turn-based game.

For the ROG Ally, Baldur’s Gate 3’s graphical settings were optimised

Here are the settings we advise using on the ROG Ally,Baldur’s Gate 3 to achieve the ideal blend of performance and graphical fidelity:

Resolution: The ROG Ally’s display’s native resolution of 1920 x 1080.

DX 11 graphics API. Although some PCs may perform better with one graphics API over another, the ROG Ally Baldur’s Gate 3 benefits more from using DirectX 11.

1.0 AMD FSR: High calibre. Before scaling the image to the native resolution of your display, AMD’s FidelidyFX Super Resolution, or FSR, generates the visuals at a reduced resolution. Compared to running the game at a reduced resolution, this enhances performance while keeping higher image quality. We advise using Quality mode.

Low model quality. The geometric complexity of objects, especially those in the distance, is adjusted by this parameter. However, turning it up will result in a substantial performance hit, therefore we advise against it. Low unless you really hate texture pop-in more than the other performance-intensive settings on this list.

Medium shadow quality. Like in many games, Baldur’s Gate 3 Shadow Quality, which has a high performance cost but also has a high visual impact, controls the sharpness and stability of shadows. Since Medium offers the best value for your money and only degrades performance by a small percentage while enhancing visuals significantly, we recommend it. You can turn it up a notch, but you’ll have to forfeit a lot more frames in exchange.

High cloud quality. Though the clouds look beautiful at higher settings, there aren’t many places in the game where you’ll actually see them, and even then, this setting doesn’t seem to have a significant performance impact. With High, you can’t go wrong.

Ultra High Texture Quality. The degree of detail of textures, such as those on clothing, walls, and other objects, depends on the texture quality. Although it isn’t nearly as VRAM-hungry as many games, it has a significant impact on graphic quality and is mostly limited by VRAM. Medium is probably best with the Ally’s default settings, however we discovered Ultra to perform and look amazing with the Ally’s VRAM allotment set to 6GB.

Anisotropic X4 texture filtering. Similar to texture quality, texture filtering has a significant impact on visuals; therefore, for a visible improvement, I advise setting it to at least X4.

Low instance distance. We advise leaving this set to Low because it affects the draw distance of some objects, like grass, and can affect performance, especially when CPU-bound.

Low fog quality. The resolution and calibre of the volumetric effects are controlled by this option. Higher settings do add a little bit of definition, but it’s difficult to tell, especially on a small screen, and Low offers the greatest performance.

High detail separation. You should be able to utilise High safely because this has a minimal influence on performance and only impacts the view distance of small items.

Low level of detail in the animation. This may have an impact on CPU utilisation, which in busy game sections (like Act 3) is the primary bottleneck. Therefore, we advise setting it to Low.

TAA, or anti-aliasing. TAA, or temporal anti-aliasing, cleverly minimises shimmering and jagged edges by using numerous frames. The boost in image quality comes at a slight cost to GPU speed, especially when utilising FSR.

On for ambient occlusion. Small shadows are added by ambient occlusion in the intersections of two objects. Even though this setting has a slight negative impact on GPU performance, it is essential for providing the world with visual depth, so I strongly advise keeping it on.

Circular depth of field. When the camera is focused on anything close by, such as a character’s face during a dialogue, depth of field distorts the background of the picture. Although it can be turned off for the optimum performance, we left it on for our tests because it has a lovely effect.

Quality of Depth of Field: quarter. On the Ally’s little screen, Quarter looks almost as good as Quarter + Denoise and performs better.

God Rays are on. When light enters an opening, this adds illumination to fog or other particles but doesn’t appear to have a significant impact on performance. Therefore, we advise leaving it on.

In bloom. Though you can adjust it to your own preferences, we think this post-processing effect looks excellent.

Off for subsurface scattering. The lighting for things like character faces is barely impacted by this. We decided to keep it off for the performance gain because of how subtle it is.

Off for Slow HDD Mode. Since the Ally has a lightning-fast PCIe SSD, we can turn off this feature even though it enhances speed on older spinning hard drives.

Off for dynamic crowds. Thankfully, turning this off doesn’t significantly reduce immersion and is necessary to achieve respectable framerates in Act 3.

Read more on Govindhtech.com

[travelnew]

DURG & DHAKOBA trek near Junnar

On 20-08-2023 Sunday, we 3 friends decided to trek to a new place, that had never been visited by any one of us.

The blog post is divided into 4 parts:

How did we go?

Time line.

Experience in photos & videos.

Expenses.

HOW DID WE GO?

Durg & Dhakoba are two separate places marked here on Google maps. They both can be trekked separately or together (as we did). It is type of a range trek, where the mountains connect the 2 places. Here the two places are on the top of the mountain and are connected by an undulating plateau.

Area: Junnar.

Base villages: Ambe for Durg & Amboli for Dhakoba. Villages near Ambe are Ambe Hatwij and Bhivade Khurd.

Since the base villages of Durg and Dhakoba are different and on opposite sides, the start and end points of our route is different. Thus the coming & going journey are different and trek route seems complicated.

Route: Kalyan - Malshej Ghat - Junnar - Ambe - Durg - Dhakoba - Darya Ghat - Amboli - Junnar - Banker Phata - Malshej Ghat - Ambernath.

Kalyan railway station - Kalyan ST bus depot - Bus going to Akola dropped us at Madh - tumtum or tempo ride from Madh to Junnar - Junnar ST bus depot - Bus to Sukal Wadhe - Alight from this bus going to Ingloon village at this point . The bus will go to Pimparwadi.

Now you are already on the top of the mountain once you alight from the bus. The steep ascent from Bhivade Khurd village was not needed to be climbed due to the bus journey.

TREK ROUTE: GPS route map is uploaded here on Wikiloc.

The shape of the GPS route is like a table. You start at one of th e legs and then cross the flatness, to reach the opposite leg of the table, because base villages of Durg and Dhakoba are separate and on opposite sides of each other.

Trailhead: Namdevwadi in AMBE village > Durga mandir - base of Durg - Dhakoba base - Dhakeshwar (Dhakoba) temple - Darya Ghat - Bhivade Budruk (trek ended) - Amboli.

Return route: Bus from Amboli to ST Junnar bus depot - jeep hired - to Bankar Phata - car hired - to Ambernath - rickshaw to Ambernath railway station - train - Dadar - home.

Grade: moderate to difficult, because of its length. Almost 14 km walk through the plateau on the mountain top, which has gentle uphills and downhills. The plateau was shrouded in clouds and visibility was low in the monsoon season. The descent from Darya Ghat to Amboli is steep and slippery, riddled with caves and waterfalls.

Guide is a must, as the forest is dense and covered in fog. The route is long. There are many trails, which may mislead the trekker. A villager knowing the path can be the best and safest company.

TIME LINE:

19-08-2023, Saturday.

Second-last train from Dadar to Kalyan.

Spend the night at Kalyan.

20-08-2023, Sunday.

05:00 Kalyan ST bus depot to Madh by Akola bus.

07:30 breakfast at Madh.

08:30 reach Junnar ST depot by tempo from Madh.

10:00 reach Ambe by bus to Sukal Wadhe near Inglun.

10:30 - trek starts from Ambe Hatwij/ Namdevwadi.

16:15 - trek ends near Amboli via Darya Ghat.

16:30 - ST bus from Amboli to Junnar.

17:15 reach Junnar ST bus depot.

17:45-18:00 - jeep drops us at Bankar Phata.

18:15-18:30 to 20:30 - car ride from Bankar Phata to Ambernath.

20:50 - train to Dadar from Ambernath.

23:00 home sweet home.

EXPERIENCE IN PHOTOS & VIDEO:

Nandi at Dhakoba or Shri Dhakeshwar Temple.

VIDEO is here!

EXPENSES:

70/- rickshaw from home to railway station & back.

35/- train tickets.

150/- ST bus ticket from Kalyan to Madh.

70/- breakfast at Madh.

33/- tempo ride from Madh to Junnar (Rs. 100/- for 3 passengers).

35/- ST bus ticket from Junnar ST bus depot to Pimparwadi.

200/- guide fees (Rs. 600/- for 3 of us) from Ambe Hatwij till Dhakoba temple.

Our guide arranged another villager who dropped us from Dhakoba temple till start of Darya Ghat.

30/- ST bus ticket from Amboli to Junnar (last bus is at 16:30 from Amboli).

100/- jeep from Junnar St bus depot to Bankar Phata (Rs.30/- is per head seat in shared jeep, which accomodates 14 passengers, crushed).

200/- car ride from Bankar Phata to Ambernath (600/- for 3 of us).

20/- rickshaw from Ambernath to Ambernath railway station.

30/- ice cream.

TOTAL = 975/- per head in TTMM with 3 friends who shared the common expenses, risks and responsibilities equally.

[thedawnbeauty]

“ I can handle a lot things, but what I can’t handle is if something happens to you.” It was a frighting image to find Melody, covered in dry blood. He had to hold his breathe to stop him from making any sudden movements. As she explained to him what had happened, he removed the cloth bandages from around his arm, and used it to tuck his arm underneath his knees, as he bent down to pick her up and hold her against him.

“ There’s a healers tent this way, I saw it on my way to you.” He had just been there himself, in agony. They had given him a combination of tubes for him to regain his strength, in order to find her. A trail of dry blood and ashes lead him to her, as he examined her, and immediately thought of Layla. His cheeks were thin, as he was holding on by a thread. He carefully stepped over injured shoulders, the field was magnetic force of emotions, and each one was rushing towards him: cries of loneliness, pain and need of assistance. He somehow managed to carry Melody to the tent, to allow Malina to examine her. Offering his own personal mix of whiskey and brandy to be used on her for cleaning any wounds and to knock her out. He took only a step away, to regroup with his men about the remaining guards who had ran into the palace. As Melody informed him she left Galad on the second floor, and he was unconscious, the last time she saw him.

He motioned for the nurses to wrap his left arm again, but to strap his arrows pouch on his shoulder as he summoned four men to go with him to the palace, and commanded the remaining men to collect the wounded and help make sure they were treated. He gave a smile back to Melody, reassuring her he would come back. The men, Luca had selected chose a walking staff as their weapon of choice as together, they charged towards the castle. Black cloths covered over their eyes, due to the smoke and fog. Luca was their eyes, as he strolled two feet behind them. “ Left.. forward”. He commanded, as the first guard spun the walking stick in their hand, and used it to take out the first guard. A blow to the throat, and stomach, cause the guard to drop to the ground as they kept moving. As a larger group formed infront of them, Luca unhooked two arrows from his pouch as he targeted the men on the left, as he commanded to the guards their next move “ Left, triangle.” As his guards moved into a triangle formation and listened for the guards boots as they approached, spinning the staff in their palms as they took out the next group of guards.

“First floor is clear.” He commanded, as they pushed their way into the palace. Flying out from the second floor, a silver arrow flashed passed his eyes, and went directly through one of his guards cheeks. “ Removal, all clear.”

The smoke had disappeared, and the visibly was more clear. As Luca looked up, and spotted Galad, very much awake. “ You.. and me.. man to man”

Luca rushed to tackle him to the floor, as Galad took out of back dagger slashing at Luca neck, as the two men wrestled on the ground. Galad hands wrapped tightly against Luca neck, squeezing it. As Luca repeatedly rammed his skull into Galad forehead, until he was knocked off. Wheezing he moved over to Galad, and began to jab at his face. Crushing his knuckles against Galad nose, until he was knocked out. Luca stumbled back on his feet, looking down at him, as he picked up the dagger and pierced him through the heart. That was for Melody. He moved his hand towards his chest, trying to catch his breathe.

“ Sir, we need help carrying him back.” One of the guards yelled down below, as Luca nodded, finding the strength to run back downstairs, he bent down lifting the guard leg. “ On three..” he wheezed as together they carried the guard back to the healers tent. As soon as the guard was surrounded by healers, Luca immediately collapsed on the floor passing out.