#You'll never be able to stop me once I get the conjuring turns down

[themostimportantnight]

One of my friends tells me the way I crack my neck is scary, but I never totally got why until I just did it now and realized it looks like this

[lovelyunholyc]

you'd let it slip that one time, when he called you at the time of day he usually does to check in, you'd let it go to voicemail just to be able to save it and conjure up his voice whenever you pleased while he was away.

"i don't have any voicemails of you," nanami had said with a troubled look on his face, and you'd found it so charming that you had to lean in and kiss him.

you'd shrugged, giving him a small, grateful smile. "you always answer when i call, kento."

you know him well enough to understand his logic; he'd never miss any of your calls, even when he's working (you were the only person allowed to contact him past his phone's 'Do Not Disturb' feature) - he couldn't ever risk missing it when you needed him, and you wouldn't think to disturb him for trivial things either.

of course your answer doesn't satisfy him, and you can almost see the cogs turning in his brain. you can't help but laugh a little, kissing his frown away and changing the subject to save him from the stress.

the next day, at that time he usually calls during his break, he receives an ominous text from you.

don't call. and don't answer, i'm leaving you a present.

he worries immediately, but another text pops up once you see he's read it.

don't worry! you'll ruin the surprise! i love you ❤️

nanami tries his best, but he can't help it. instances of something going terribly wrong concerning you and him not being able to reach you in time flood his brain and nearly make him lightheaded. he does as you ask and doesn't answer when your contact pops up on the screen, his self-control waning quickly the longer he sees your photo.

he doesn't know how long he stares at the screen, even when his phone stops ringing.

and then, just a minute later, a notification for a new voicemail pops up, and the tornado of worries in his brain grinds to a halt when everything suddenly clicks, and he's reminded of the short, perplexing conversation you'd had the day prior.

and he feels a little silly.

you pick up on the first ring, as if you were expecting his call.

"my love," you greet, and even though the audio on his phone doesn't do your sweet voice justice, it soothes his heart all the same. "you're not gonna listen to it?" he can tell you're smiling, playful and lovely.

"i'll save it for my way home from work."

"hmm, how do you know it wasn't something naughty, then? what if you start blushing on the train, and everyone notices?"

"darling-" he starts, but uncharacteristically doesn't have a follow-up. he knows no one on his commute cares enough about anything else at that time other than coming home as soon as possible, much like himself, but he lets you have that, if it'll make you giggle like you are now. your laugh is deeply precious to him.

"i can just imagine it - but i wouldn't wanna ever miss seeing you blush." oh, he knows, and has suffered your inappropriate whispers in public just to get a reaction out of him nearly enough to get used to it. nearly. "are you blushing now?"

"no," nanami lies easily, heat crawling up his neck in that oddly pleasant way only you can seem to bring out of him.

you laugh just as easily, see through him just like that, as if he's right in front of you.

"i'm glad you didn't listen to me and still called," you say softly, traces of your sweet laughter still lingering in your tone. "i wanted to hear your voice, too."

nanami hums, doesn't tell you that that makes him smile way too wide for him having lunch alone. he tries to tone it down in case gojo somehow happens to stumble upon his carefully chosen, secluded spot.

"i miss you," you sigh, as if you hadn't seen him this morning and kissed him until he was almost late, like you usually do.

"i miss you, too, darling," he replies just as sincerely, as if he wasn't seeing you in just a few short hours and wasn't planning on holding you until you begged him to let you go so you could get dinner together, like he usually does.

"enjoy your break, handsome." the corner of his lip always twitches up when you call him that. "come home safe."

"of course. i love you."

"love you more!"

nanami knows that if he argues that, like he really wants to every time, you'd be too stubborn to let him win. so he just chuckles and lets you hang up.

despite what you'd teased him about, he does listen to your message on the train. and he does start smiling like a madman, his entire face glowing, lighting up with it, but he can't find it in himself to be embarrassed about it when he's hearing your voice and he's only a few short minutes away from having you in his arms again.

"hi, handsome. i had to think carefully about how to get you to not answer your phone, but it didn't end up being that creative, huh?" you breathe a soft laugh, the gentle cadence of it carrying into your sweet voice. "anyway, here's your obligatory voicemail from me. i'm just kidding - i thought about it, and you looked so sad about it that i just had to make one. you know i'd do anything to make you happy, right? it's only fair, with how happy you make me, too... i hope this will suffice, i didn't really have anything special to say except that i think about you so much it's becoming quite concerning, and i love you so much i feel like i'm going crazy, slowly but surely. look what you do to me!... um, oh- i'm gonna run out of time soon! i can't wait to leave you a million more of these, it's almost as fun as listening to yours... actually, i'll tell you a little secret: i listen to yours every day when i'm missing you most, which is usually right after you leave for work. sometimes i wish you'd come right back even though it's a little ridiculous. um, anyway, i'll think of a more creative way to trick you next time. come back safely, i miss you terribly... i love you more than you know, kento."

[kanayaks]

Giving the World Away - Part 3

A serialized, in-progress follow-up to Mirror Image.

Part 1 | Part 2

girls and gods, gods and girls

Morel swirls her wine glass lazily as she watches Shadowheart take down her hair for the day. She still hasn't found a taste for anything else after Summerwine, but she'd needed something to try to slow her mind.

They are sharing a room: even on someone else's coin, two seemed over-indulgent after weeks on the road. Or perhaps Shadowheart's concern about the sect retaliating was realer than she let on. And maybe Morel knew that if she had to sleep alone, she wouldn't be able to stop thinking about the ever-present thrum of Weave she is now attuned to.

"Have I said yet how glad I am you left behind that stupid hair chain?"

Shadowheart smirks and continues to unwind her braid. "I'm glad you stopped wearing that stupid makeup."

"I'll have you know, that makeup saved lives," she waves with her glass, slouched and sleepy in her chair.

"How do you know my hair chain didn't?"

"Hah. We're dreadfully irresponsible to abandon them, then."

"No, you were right," Shadowheart shakes her hair loose, and rolls her neck. "Comfort is important."

"Speaking of-" Morel stands and stretches. "You ready now?"

"Yes."

She moves to the bath behind the screen, and prepares to call to the earth to heat it. Somehow the lines get crossed, and the symbol on her hand lights up the room as the water is instantly sent to a furious boil.

"What the Hells is that?" Shadowheart marches over and grabs her wrist, tugging her away from the spitting, roiling water.

She tries to pull free, but Shadowheart holds fast. She sighs and reluctantly unfurls her fingers.

Shadowheart sucks in a sharp breath. "Moonmaiden's tears, he branded you?!"

A plume of water shoots to the ceiling as she yanks her hand away. "It's hardly-"

"Stop fucking boiling it!"

"Alright, fuck!"

She closes her eyes and exhales in frustration. Gradually, she forces herself to release her hold on the magic.

Shadowheart awaits her with crossed arms.

"I'm sorry about your bath."

Her face is stony.

"Ugh, you can just conjure some more water to even out the temperature, it won't be hard." Morel snaps, and stalks over to snatch up her wine glass.

"Morel."

Shadowheart brings her hand to her eyes and shakes her head. "Morel, you have to tell me. You just have to."

"Look, it's not...It was my idea."

"What was?"

"The symbol is- it's just a contract. That's all it is."

"A contract? Gods, Morel," Shadowheart sinks into a chair. "I thought you didn't want anything to do with him."

"I won't, functionally. Once every five years, that's it."

"Don't be naive. Every time you cast a spell you'll feel him. You'll never be free now."

"I think about him all the fucking time anyways. What difference does it really make?"

Shadowheart looks at her for a long moment. Morel turns away, terrified of what she might read in the eyes of someone she knows so well.

"What's your plan? You can't just return home like nothing's changed."

So you can return to isolation and mediocrity?

"No, you're right. I don't think I can."

"So come back with me. There's plenty of space, and my parents would love to have you. It's nice. Quiet."

Morel rubs her palm. "Might not stay that way, with me there."

"You don't have to be alone, Morel."

"I'm not alone."

"You know what I mean. You could have someone who knows what it was like, who was there with you."

She wonders if Shadowheart's not offering what she craves herself, and the guilt is a physical pang in her chest.

"If you..." She crosses to lean against Shadowheart's chair. "If you could have your parents' memories of you, would you want them?"

"If I could have my memories back?"

"No. If you could have theirs."

"...I don't know. Is that something you can do?"

"Maybe. Maybe it's something else, I, I don't know."

"So that's your plan."

"I owe it to them to try."

"They wouldn't want this for you. I know that."

"Your parents wanted to be motes of light."

"You think I made the wrong choice." Her voice is cold and hard, and still the profound hurt rings out clear as a bell.

"No. No, gods." Morel sits on the floor next to Shadowheart's legs. "There was no right choice."

"They know exactly which strings to pull, don't they?" Shadowheart says quietly.

You're not him. Of course I am.

Morel squeezes her eyes shut against the memory and rests her head on Shadowheart's legs.

[bontenten]

Efficiency

Pairing: Daishou x f!reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings/Tags: smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, light degredation, aftercare, established relationship

Thank you so much @/bakatenshii and @/thirstyforthem2dmen for beta-reading. This is a repost from my main after it went fully sfw. Originally for the hqhq (now Anilysium) hard at work collab.

Pen scrawls and keyboard taps sound throughout the conference room as your boss goes over current client projects. Daishou is sitting across the table and you notice he's wearing the tie you gave him for his birthday last year. Looks good, you think to yourself. It's not just the tie, it's his entire outfit, and him.

Daishou notices your lingering stare and makes eye contact, granting you a cheeky grin and a head tilt. Pompous bastard. In response, you send back an expression of mock disgust before turning your attention back to your laptop.

For any newcomer at the firm, it might seem like the office is split down the middle into either your camp or Daishou's, with opinions and jabs on completely opposite ends of the spectrum. Why else is there so much spite being tossed around between the two of you, if not due to a deeply entrenched layer of grievances?

It might leave the newbie confused as to why Daishou affectionately calls you his "most significant problem". Or why you preface notes to him with, "to whom this may piss off, my royal pain-in-the-ass".

Then there comes a revelation to the newbie that you and Daishou are not mortal enemies, but rather the most wretchedly in-love couple in this skyrise building. It's a bad decision to cross either you or Daishou for any matter. Not only are the both of you perfectly vindictive, crossing one means submitting an application to be on the blacklist of the other. There's no doubt, in your humblest opinion, that Daishou, even if he'll never outright admit it, absolutely worships the dirt under your heels. And when you are in remotely a good mood, fine, you don't mind his coffee breath either.

It's heartwarming, that in this tower of cold, hard stainless steel and immaculate glass panels, there's love floating around the disinfected air of money, money, and more money. When it counts, you can be sure that Daishou will stand on the same side of the fence as you.

While the meeting goes on and you multitask with the spreadsheet open on your screen, you think you hear your name being tossed around. To your knowledge, everything is lined up already and unless there is some sort of overnight emergency, there's absolutely nothing left on your plate to take care of.

At the same time, there is also the off-chance that someone decides to drag you into hell with them and include you in a project. Now, who could possibly have the audacity to put you into the wringer with them?

"Daishou! Excellent, I'll leave this to you," the boss exclaims. "This pitchbook needs to be done by tomorrow. It's high urgency and the client just sent the numbers in."

A sinking feeling begins to churn in your stomach. You pause your frenzy across the keyboard and pay attention to the meeting to hear the rest of what Daishou has to say.

"If I may," Daishou curtly asks with a smile that's a tad too wide, "I'd like to work with Y/N on this. As you know, we work best together. It'll be done before the meeting tomorrow."

You can feel everyone's eyes turn to you in the meeting room, begging you to please say yes to the man holding titles such as your boyfriend, co-worker, and also 'royal pain-in-the-ass'. You force a smile and match Daishou's client-ready, saccharine expression. "Of course, we'll have it done tonight."

Suddenly, the atmosphere of the entire meeting room relaxes by ten notches. Bastards, all of you.

"Our firm's best duo!" the boss praises, "We'll leave it to you two then. Meeting adjourned."

It's the two words everyone has been waiting for. The moment the syllable falls, the conference room is filled with the sounds of shifting seats and scuffling feet eager to leave work for the day. With a huff, you shut your laptop and see Daishou coming around the conference table with his laptop and files tucked under his arm. He adjusts and tugs on his tie.

"Guess it's you and me again tonight," Daishou comments.

"And here I wanted to leave work early for once."

"Hey, just a special date night. It's called 'overtime', sounds pretty sexy don't you think?"

You snort and walk past him, going towards the direction of the elevator. Daishou eyes your figure strutting down the hall. The lines of your ironed shirt and the pencil skirt that hugs your figure perfectly match the echoing clack of your heels striking shiny tiles.

Even if you don't remember, Daishou's impeccable memory absolutely remembers how the last time you paired that shirt and that skirt together, it was an overtime situation very much similar to tonight. And the cock that's starting to grow hard in his slacks certainly remembers a lot more. He can feel it twitching just trying to conjure up the sensation of your gummy walls milking him in the breakroom a month ago.

"You coming or what?"

Daishou sees you holding the elevator door open and waiting for him. Daishou won't ever admit to this, maybe to you in privacy, but Daishou will rather be dead than admit to anyone else how lucky he feels to have someone as incredible as you in his life.

He takes a few quick steps and enters the elevator.

"How sweet," he coos. "I knew you wouldn't just leave me hanging and working in this dismal place all alone."

"Shut-up, Suguru," you snap, but you lean your head against his shoulder anyway. It's been such a long day already, and the night is only going to be longer.

"Stay the night at my place later? I'll order your favorite."

"Let's get this project over with first."

"I caught you staring at me during the meeting."

"Huh, is that so."

"Practically stripped me naked with your eyes. Ooh, I felt tingles all over."

You lift your head from his shoulder. "You're so full of yourself Suguru," you remark before tugging on his tie to pull his face closer to yours. "If anything, I think you're the one getting hard at work."

Daishou leans in even closer. A hand encircles your wrist and his thumb brushes your inner-wrist across the bump of the vein. Your pulse is throbbing against his fingertips. You feel your adrenaline and anticipation rushing through your body as your heart pounds harder and faster.

"Then do something to help poor lil' me out?"

"At your place later, we—"

"But I want you so badly right now," Daishou breathes out, body tight against you so you can feel his straining desires through the layers of fabric. "I want—

Ding.

The elevator opens up to the floor the two of you work at. The co-workers waiting for the lift can only see two pristine and exemplary office workers without any semblance of dishevelment walk out. Daishou even says a polite "see you tomorrow" to them.

"If only the elevator stopped working," you joke after taking a deep breath to swallow the fire building in your core. "Sly snake, no one here in the office knows your true colors."

Sometimes, you wonder just how Daishou can switch his persona so quickly. Or maybe he just likes the precarious edge of being horny at work.

"Love you too dear," he sneers.

A couple workers are still at their desks scrambling for their deadlines. You and Daishou take a seat at your work stations and begin to chip away at the urgent, overtime project. Every now and then, you'll say good-night to the other remaining co-workers finally able to go home. It doesn't take long before the halls are completely vacated and empty except for the two of you still slaving away in front of the bright monitors for hours into the night.

"Where are you going?" you ask Daishou who is returning to his seat after disappearing down the hall again. "This is the third time in the last hour. Are you shitting in the toilets or dumping all the work on me?"

Daishou comes by your desk and leans on the back of your chair. "Just making some phone calls. Want to go home now? It's getting late."

"Uh...work's not done yet."

"It's fine, let's have dinner first, we can just work remotely at my place. The bulk is done anyway."

You glance at the clock and ponder Daishou's offer. It doesn't hurt to leave a little early and continue the work later in a more comfortable setting. "Okay, let me pack."

After cleaning up the workstation and packing everything the two of you will need, you and Daishou are back in the hallway waiting for the descending elevator.

Daishou takes the heavy tote bag from your shoulders. “I’ll hold onto this,” he explains.

“Why so nice today, Suguru? First luring me over with food, the compliments, and suggestions to leave early…” You trace a finger along the line of his spine and observe, pleased with the nervous grin spreading on his face. “Someone’s losing patience, hm?”

Daishou gives you an ingratiating smile. “Princess, as fancy as our work is, we still work in client-services. What can I say, I live to serve and please.”

“Cheeky.”

The elevator arrives and the two of you enter the space.

"How long do you think we still need?" you ask Daishou.

"Must we talk about work, right now?"

"You're just horny, Suguru."

"Oh, so it's 'just' me, is that what it is?"

You shrug and admit, "Nah, I was wondering why you didn't suggest anything earlier when the office was empty."

"Baby, if you wanted me that bad, you should've just climbed on my lap."

You laugh at Daishou's retort and prepare a comeback. "I think—"

A loud screech sounds through the elevator and the lights flicker briefly before a jolt causes you to stumble. Your hand automatically flies to the handrail. Daishou also wraps an arm around you tightly to steady your balance.

"Is the..."

"Seems like we're stuck," Daishou comments.

You rapidly press the service bell button, but it's no use. "No one's picking up, it's like the signal got cut. Should've just taken the stairs!"

The cell signal is also terribly weak in the elevator space. There's nothing else to do but wait and see how things play out.

Daishou laughs dryly and smooths his hair back. "We work on the 18th floor, since when do we take the stairs?"

"There's that one evacuation drill..." you reply weakly.

Daishou raises an eyebrow, giving you a look that says, really now?

"You're right, we're doomed. Last moments and—"

"With the love of your life, isn't that pleasant a way to go?" Daishou tightens his arms around you. "Don't worry, it's all going to be okay."

You reciprocate and respond to his hug, while your brain searches for a solution. "I once saw on the internet that if the elevator drops, you have to time your jump right before the elevator hits the ground floor. Otherwise—"

"Shhh," Daishou shushes you quietly with a quick kiss. He rocks you from side to side and reassures you again that everything is okay.

"Trust me, it'll be okay. Let's just have a little fun while we're waiting," he suggests one hand already tracing up your thigh. "Maybe it'll relax all those nerves you've been holding onto."

Daishou wants to laugh. Whose nerves exactly? Do you have any idea how he’s been counting the minutes and seconds for this moment while you innocently worked on the project like the good, model worker that you are?

It took everything in him to somehow put down a few excel formulas and not shove the monitors onto the floor to fuck you senseless across the worktables. Not to mention, the pleasure of having those witty remarks that spurt out from that little mouth of yours replaced with incomprehensible whines and begs for your precious Suguru to fill you to the brim. And now that you also admit to thinking along the same lines earlier, Daishou knows the dirty little thoughts clouding into your mind already.

Some slut that you are, acting proper and put-together at work, basking in the praise from co-workers and the boss; they just don’t know how ten minutes after those morning touchpoint meetings, you are bouncing on Daishou’s cock in a hidden corner while the financial markets open for the day. It’s an art, really, the number of quicks you two manage to fit into the crevices of a busy office schedule. But that’s why Daishou is one of the best employees of the firm. Daishou Suguru works quickly. He works efficiently.

The patterns Daishou's fingers trace tickle and send shivers up the skin. His low voice and hot breath across your ear elicits a soft gasp as you press your thighs together in the tight, figure-hugging skirt, seeking some hidden relief for the needy throb inside. The scrap of fabric down there is barely able to soak up the wetness beginning to pool. You are pressed up against him for comfort and security, your breasts plush against his chest. Each inhale and exhale you take is a test of patience.

"T-there's a camera," you remind him through shaky breaths, eyes flickering to the black mechanism in the corner. This is your final thread.

Daishou eyes the camera that is staring expectantly at the tryst about to happen in the cramped space with a wicked grin. Like that has ever bothered you, but if you want to play coy, he’ll humor you. He pinches the soft flesh on your thighs. "But we both know you're an attention whore. Always wanting to be the center of attention?"

You bite your lip to stop a whimper and look away, unwilling to admit that Daishou is completely right. You're already squirming in anticipation and delight. How cute, Daishou savors before deftly undoing the first two buttons of your crisp blouse. He has all of your clothes memorized, and how to take them off in the least amount of steps. At this point, it's completely second nature, and even if it isn't, the particular outfit you are wearing today has a special pedestal in Daishou's memory of interests. He pulls the tucked fabric apart to expose your delicate neckline and the soft curves of your breasts in the bra.

Oh, this one? What a coincidence then. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and deeply inhales the scent of your lingering fragrance. His hot breath and tantalizing lips drag across your collarbone, brushing your sensitive skin.

"So fucking sexy. Let's put on a show shall we?"

The thread snaps.

You harshly tug on the Daishou’s tie and capture his lips with yours. Daishou presses his body even closer, resting a forearm right above your head to cage you against the elevator wall. You wrap your arms around his neck, threading your fingers through his hair, as you meld into the searing kiss. The zipper of your skirt is tugged and the fabric is pushed up to your waist. His hand snakes up your thigh and a thumb hooks the side of your panties, pulling the soaked scrap down.

"Step," he instructs, pulling your panties down all the way and guiding your heeled feet out. "Don't want them dropping on the floor," he says, tucking the bunched fabric into his shirt pocket.

"Touch me, please," you beg, pulling Daishou back to you. You grab his hand and lead him to between your legs, grinding yourself against his thick fingers for some relief.

“No need to rush, the elevator isn't getting fixed anytime soon," he coos, "We're not going to get distracted this time."

Daishou spreads your lips apart and rubs along your sensitive bud, coating his digits with your slick. "Fuck, you're so wet already," he marvels before slipping a finger in and then another.

Daishou pumps his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy, occasionally dragging over to circle your clit. "That's it, isn't it?" he groans, feeling your walls clench around his fingers when he finds the spot that has you falling apart into streams of whines and mewls.

Daishou withdraws his fingers and brings the glistening digits up for you to see. "How much are you enjoying this? Wanting to be fucked in an elevator, watched by who knows who behind that camera."

You whimper and watch Daishou take the coated fingers in his mouth, licking off every drop of you. "You taste so good," he breathes, before pulling you into a kiss and letting you have a taste of your own arousal.

You break out of the kiss and turn around, resting your hands on the handrail. "S-Suguru, want you in me," you beg. You bend over just enough for your Daishou to see how much more wet you've gotten from tasting yourself on him. Your glistening hole is dripping and desperately clenching around nothing.

"Patience, princess." Daishou quickly unbuckles his belt and lets the cock pressing against his tight slacks spring free. He prepares to give himself a few more strokes but you reach behind and slap his hand away, replacing the hand on his cock with your own.

"Fuck," he groans, bucking his hips into your hands. "Always the impatient one."

"Hurry...please."

The building anticipation is making your knees weak and head dizzy already. You keep both hands on the handrails for support and squirm over trying to better line yourself for that thickness you need to fill your hole.

"Shit, stop teasing me!"

Beep.

The emergency intercom you pressed when the elevator first malfunctioned finally lights up. The line connects after a moment of static and radio noise and temporarily shocks a thread of rationality into your thoughts.

"Hello? Hello? Are we connected now, finally? Hello? Can you hear me?" the voice urges from the other end.

"Ah-" you gasp out, feeling Daishou fingers draw out slow circles on your clit. You press your lips tightly together to muffle a moan.

"Ma'am? Ma'am, can you hear me?"

Daishou leans next to your ear. "Answer them, sweetheart." The tip of his cock teases the entrance of your pussy, running along the wet lips. "Do well and I'll give it to you."

You manage, with difficulty, squeak out, "Y-yes!"

"Good girl."

Your legs buckle slightly when you feel Daishou's thick cock being pushed into you, finally giving you the gratification you have been craving during Daishou's ministrations.

"Oh, careful now, don't want you falling over," Daishou's grip on your hips tightens and he groans at how warm, wet and tight you are around him. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good," he mutters under his breath.

The speaker buzzes again. "Great, finally connected. Ma'am are you doing okay still?"

"Yes!" you cry out as Daishou gives a firm and deep thrust; a wave of pleasure shoots through you.

"Don't panic, our team is already coming—" The line disconnects as abruptly.

Daishou revels at how your soft walls hug and clench around him. By all means, he didn't expect the interruption happening at all. It seems like you are not the only impatient person, he wonders, before flashing a nasty look at the camera in the corner and flipping said object off.

"Come on, princess,” he encourages and pats the side of your ass lightly. “Let me hear how pretty you sound."

"Sugu—" you gasp out, feeling the tip of his cock rocking into you. "R-right there right, ah—"

"Yea, you like that?" Daishou groans, pushing into you again feeling your walls clamp around him so tightly. So perfectly. It's addicting and all he can do is thrust in and out, over and over again. Each time seeking out the sounds of your pretty moans when you are completely filled and stuffed with him.

Lewd squelches and the slaps of skin meeting flesh fill the elevator space, along with Daishou’s grunts and your pants. Your hips meet each of Daishou’s thrusts in perfect rhythm, taking his entire length until the base. You can feel each stroke dragging along your walls, the size and length of his cock pushing against your tightness and prodding your cervix.

Neither of you can bother with any other distractions now that bliss is just teetering on the edge. Daishou pulls out and turns you around so you face him. He then scoops you up from under your ass with your legs spread over his forearms and hoists you up against the elevator wall. You feel the stinging cold from the cylindrical edge of the handrail as a dubious support against your heated skin.

"Suguru!" you squeal out, "I'll fall! I'll—"

"I got you, don't worry," Daishou reassures, "You're okay, I won't let you fall."

Once he feels your arm wrapped tightly around his shoulders, Daishou slides into you again with a loud squelch.

"We're right outside now! Won't be long before we get you two out." A loud voice calls out from beyond the shut elevator doors.

"Smile for the camera, princess," Daishou encourages before picking up the pace, chasing the high that's just around the corner. His thrusts become faster and rougher, hitting your sweet spot deep inside you over and over again making your mind spin. The countless reflected images of Daishou's unrelenting pursuit and speed, and the expression of your fucked out face collide together in a blurry, infinite kaleidoscope.

“Gonna cum! Gonna-”

All thoughts leave your mind with each ragged breath as you near your own edge. You can only cling onto Daishou tightly, nails digging into his shoulder and back. You don't hear the sounds of mechanical whirring outside the elevator. Whatever it is that the people are shouting outside does not matter. The bright lights don't make any sense to you anymore. You don't even remember what Daishou Suguru looks like.

The blank stare from the camera is the last thing you see before you squeeze your eyes shut, face tucked in the crook of Daishou’s neck, and body feeling like putty in his arms. All that's left is the euphoria sparking through and broken syllabylic babbles you struggle to utter out.

With a few final thrusts, Daishou grunts and pulls you completely flush against his hips, finally spilling himself into you. Release after a long day never feels this sweet, Daishou muses as he holds your languid body close. Each deep breath you take only pushes your soft breast against his chest, and Daishou can feel your spasming walls still hugging him. He peppers a few kisses on your sweat covered brow. So good, so fucking good.

The voices and mechanical whirs outside interrupt Daishou’s moment.

That’s right, we’re still in this damn elevator. Daishou carefully pulls out his softened and twitching cock and lowers your wobbly form down from your make-shift seat. He takes a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the drool from your face then lightly dab away the trail of mixed fluids seeping out of your puffy cunt. The overly saturated handkerchief does a poor job soaking away the mess the two of you made.

Daishou reaches for the crumpled panties he shoved into the shirt pocket, but decides against letting you wear it. In your current state, your legs are like a newborn deer, barely able to support you let alone try to maneuver into underwear.

"Once we get back to my place, I'll draw us a bath.”

The increasingly loud mechanical clamor and sounds of the elevator workers pull you out of your daze for a moment too. You try to fumble around and haphazardly button your shirt, but the buttons miss their proper buttonhole by one. You pout and look at Daishou who just buckled his belt and tucked in the edges of his crumpled shirt. He looks ready for a client meeting already, if not for the obvious smell of sex clinging into him.

Daishou chuckles at your state and helps you slip into his long coat. He kisses your brow again in apology. "Sorry baby, just bear with it for a moment."

"Hungry."

"Yes, yes. I'll order your favorite too, like I promised."

You nod, pleased with his answer.

Ding.

The doors of the elevator open, to the relief of the elevator workers outside. They were in the process of getting ready to pry the doors open, but it seems like the elevator is back to normal already.

"Sir, Ma'am, we apologize for our tardiness."

Daishou waves a hand. "Not at all, it was fine. My girlfriend," he nods to your hidden form in the coat, "a bit frazzled, that's all."

Daishou's coat is like a bathrobe and hides absolutely everything. Turn up the collar, hide your face in Daishou's neck, and no one can see the mess that you are still underneath the thick layer. If they don't look, they won't know about the cum that's already dripping out and trailing down the curves of your legs into your scuffed heels.

"Is she okay? If there are any problems, we can direct you to-"

"Don't worry, I'll take good care of her. Thanks for helping fix the elevator." Not that there was anything wrong with it to begin with.

"We'll be inspecting all the elevators in the building as well. We assure you this will never happen again."

The musty smell of sweat and sex is all that lingers in the elevator, but it'll dissipate soon enough. Maybe there are tiny puddles of your juices on the tiles but the 5 A.M. cleaning workers will wipe it all away. By tomorrow, the elevator and rest of the building will be just the way it always is again. The stainless steel is cold, and the glass panels are pristine. In the early hours of the morning, leather shoes and heels will be strutting around on the marbled floors. Phone calls. Printers. Clients. Meetings. And more overtime.

Daishou smirks to himself, supporting just about your entire weight. His phone rings in his coat pocket. He reaches for the device and answers the call. Those bastards.

"Heh, glad you enjoyed the show you fucker. And tell Kenma, 'that was a dick move he pulled back there.'"

He listens to the response from the other line.

"Yea sure, thanks for hacking the system...uh huh, tell him to cum in your dirty sock-rag then...yea whatever, go eat shit."

Daishou ends the call and shoves the phone into his pocket.

"Su-gu-ru..." you mumble.

"Yes princess?"

"...Pitchbook..."

Daishou presses a light kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

Even all fucked out, you still manage to not forget about corporate responsibilities, some overachieving show-off you are. After getting you cleaned up and warm, he'll finish up any remaining work. Daishou Suguru works quickly. He works efficiently.

[astraphel]

🐙𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚 𝐄𝐫𝐨𝐬 𝐈𝐈🐙

Amajiki Tamaki x GN!Reader

🔞 1,370 Words

I ☆ II ☆ III ☆ IV

Master List ✰ Flash Fiction ✰ Main ✰ Daily GIFs

You and Tamaki are in an established relationship with dom/sub dynamics. You finally breach the topic of including his quirk during play and things take off from there!

A stream of light aimed perfectly at your eyes roused you from your sleep. Sunlight is sent from 94 million miles away, eight minutes and twenty seconds by the speed of light. Which is to say that eight minutes ago, the sun decided to personally harass your eyeballs. You grumble and turn to stretch, noticing that Tamaki was out of bed.

'Damn, I hope I didn't sleep too late.'

It was your day off, but not his. You check your phone, and, to your relief, there was still time before he had to leave. Enough for your morning coffee, at least.

'Maybe a minute more. I've got time...'

Memories from last night faded into view as you closed your eyes again.

You were edging Tamaki until he forgot his name while you ground on his thigh. His punishment for cumming without permission the night before. To his credit, he held out while you used every weakness you could conjure. Watching him squirm and whimper under you pushes your limits, too. You came on him more than once.

"Shhh," you had to say, "You'll wake the neighbors, Ama."

If it wasn't for the charlie horse that seized your leg as you started to cum a third time, he might not have made it. But you had no way of knowing that. Instead, he sprang into action immediately, thankful for the distraction from the wet spot you had created over the last couple of hours. He drew a warm Epsom salt bath, replaced the bedding, and massaged the sore spot.

"Thank you for working so hard, babe," you drowsily cooed, falling asleep under his affection. "I pulled out all the stops tonight, and you held out for me. You're such a good boy."

Your body jerked awake before you drifted back to sleep, sending a jolt of adrenaline through your system.

'Coffee. I need my coffee.'

You rechecked your phone, surprised that only five minutes had passed. You felt sure that you recalled the entire evening in vivid detail. You slipped your favorite cozy robe on and yawned your way through the hallway to the kitchen.

"Morning," You greeted Tamaki as you passed the living room. "I'm making coffee." He grunts in acknowledgment, but nothing more. Not uncommon from him, especially on double shift days. Morning time around the house was typically quiet, regardless.

Once you get to the kitchen, you get the lay of things before starting on mise en place. The remains of Tamaki's breakfast preparations are stacked neatly on the drying rack next to the sink, including a cleaned can of almonds. You like to keep them for plant starts. So you made a mental note to buy a replacement can before the end of the day.

You've never been much of a breakfast person, but even if you were, you and Tamaki wouldn't be able to share it. He needs to plan his breakfast with precision. His work depends on it, and you're not always in the mood for steamed clams at 7:30 AM.

'What shall it be?' You contemplate your coffee-making options. 'Old-fashioned drip? Turkish? Pour-over? Espresso?' You inspected the bean situation.

'Just enough for a full carafe of pour-over.'

You smiled at the thought of returning to the specialty shop down the road to buy more beans. The old couple who owns it swear that your patronage alone keeps them afloat. No one comes close to their selection, and they're always pleasant to talk to.

You fill the kettle and start heating it. The water needs to be at the perfect temperature, or it could spoil the brew. No point in buying good beans if you're just gonna scorch them, time permitting.

Once the water reached 195°F (90.5° C), things went from stillness to swift action. You removed the kettle from the heat, ground the coffee beans, put them into the coffee filter, and began pouring the water in a minute flat. Of course, the pouring process takes time, so you check your phone while the coffee drains.

"Sorry, almost done," You called out. "I know you need to leave soon."

Once the carafe was full, you discard the coffee grounds and place the filter in the sink. Then, you grab your favorite mug, an empty glass, a spoon and make your way to the living room.

The morning sun shines through the windows, golden beams stretching across the table through wooden slats. The air was still brisk, luckily the kotatsu was ready and waiting since Tamaki was already up. So you rush to the warmth and sigh before pouring your first cup.

"Good morning," you greet again, "Sorry I woke up late. Have you been waiting long?"

"G-Good morning," he stutters. A blush graced his cheeks. He had already finished most of his breakfast. There was an errant clam and a leftover piece of chicken katsu among the carnage of takoyaki and crab meat over rice. He had pineapple juice and a handful of almonds to chase it all down.

'Breakfast of champions, indeed.'

In your mug, oils from the beans danced across the surface of the coffee, beckoning you. You give in and go for the coveted first sip. The full-bodied medium roast sings across your taste buds. Once you've enjoyed the moment, you slide the empty glass over to Tamaki with a knowing look.

He whimpers, then shifts from under the blanket to reveal his hard cock sliding between two tentacles. It was clear he had been working himself up for a while based on how wet he was. You watch with care and a warm smile as he leans over the glass, positions the tentacles at an angle, and cums between them with a loud gasp. He guides the flow into the glass with surprising accuracy.

There was even a gap of sunlight that peeked past him and made it glitter as it dripped.

'Much better than the first time we tried this.' You thought.

You had him cum directly into the coffee mug, which ended up making everything splash everywhere. Newton's Third Law states that "for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." Turns out, cum and coffee are not exempt, and Tamaki tends to cum harder the more embarrassed he is about trying something. Both of you had to change your clothes before work that morning.

Once he seemed finished, you reach for the glass, but he stops you.

"Wait, m'not-" He barely gets the word out before he shudders and cums again. You watch in adoration and reach over to hold his free hand, rubbing the back of it with your thumb while he squeezes.

You kiss it several times as he comes down and relaxes. Then you grab his tentacles and squeeze them down with your thumb and index finger, making sure to get every drop of his almond milk before he shifts back. You remain in casual silence as you pick up the spoon to taste test. Slight sweet notes with distinct almond flavoring and just enough him in the background.

'Perfection.'

You tip the glass over your coffee, add the cream, stir it up, and go for your second sip. A harmonious balance, making you hum in affirmation.

'Damn good coffee.'

You reach over to wipe up the cum he got on the table with your finger to eat. That alone told him how much you love it. Otherwise, he'd be licking it up himself.

Once satisfied that you're pleased, Tamaki gets up to clean his dishes and brush his teeth before leaving for work. He stops in to kiss you on the temple on his way out, but you turn and surprise him with a tongue covered in his milk.

"Doesn't it taste good, Ama?" You whisper devilishly.

He blushes and whines your name, "I have to go to work!"

"Unfortunately," you sulk.

He takes a moment to gather himself then rushes for the door before you can spring another trap on him. You teasingly yell for him to be safe at work. He doesn't even get past his stutter as the door closes.

Silence takes over, soon graced by the patter of light rain on the windows. The perfect backdrop for a relaxing morning.

[macbetha]

below the cut, you'll find an interest check chapter for quatervois, a nancy drew pc fic. it's francy and also my idea of my absolute dream game. please let me know what you think and enjoy!

+++

After Ned breaks up with her and she loses her father, Nancy struggles to find her old vigor for detective work. While on vacation in London with Bess and George, Nancy accepts the urgent invitation to return Blackmoor Manor. Her English getaway quickly turns into an investigation once Nancy realizes the true reason Nigel Mookergee asked her back to the moors. Finding Deirdre Shannon at the manor under the same pretense only sets Nancy’s nerves further on edge. It isn’t until the Hardy Boys show up in Blackmoor that Nancy gets a glimpse of who she once was. With a manor full of suspects and a glass heart cracked open, Nancy is determined to find the truth.

Dear Ned,

How are you? It’s been a while. I’ve always started off my letters telling you about my latest case, but I’m not on one right now. I’m sure that’s hard to believe. Bess and George have whisked me away to London. I’m sure you would love it here. This is the first time I’ve seen Bess and George since I sold the house in River Heights. I stayed with Kyler and Matt in Ireland for a while. I needed a change of scenery. Their daughter just turned two. I’m somewhat jealous I’m happy for them. Anyways, I miss you I hope you’re doing well. I’m sure New York is lovely at Christmas time. I hope Stephanie is I wish Stephanie well How is Stephanie? I hope Stephanie is doing all right. I appreciated the card Stephanie sent when dad passed away. Warm regards, Merry Christmas, Love Nancy

She stares down at the letter as if the red ink were her own blood. It feels just as wounding, seeing her emotions made physical in the words on the paper. Only when a tear splatters on the page does she break free from her trance to the past. Nancy is the only person in her hotel suite, yet she works to rid the evidence like one of her own suspects. She pulls her feet up in the desk chair and crosses her ankles, holding the arch of her right foot – it recently became the victim of her latest culprit. Nancy’s foot got caught under the getaway car’s tire, and she is lucky to even be able to walk after the event. Months later, it’s stiff as hell with the most intense cramps she’s ever endured. Heart racing to forget the night it happened, she focuses on the snowfall out the window – counting little sparkles of snowflakes, though the world blurs when she squints. The doctor thought her failing sight as well as the daily headaches were on account of being hit in the head so many times.

She busies herself with choosing a postcard to send Hannah and Nancy selects one with a cat dressed up as a royal guard. The cuteness puts a smile on her face, however small – she hopes it’ll do the same for Hannah, but there is no telling. Nancy had the gut-feeling Hannah was lying about recognizing her the last time Nancy visited the nursing home. Torment swirls like wind to fallen leaves. She doesn’t have Hannah or Togo to come home to. Togo passed just before Nancy’s thirty-second birthday, and Carson fell ill soon after that. Nancy looks to her hotel bed where Mr. Woogle Woggle sits tucked between two pillows. It seems he is the only one that hasn’t left her. A knock on her hotel door reminds her that is simply not true. Nancy rights herself, fixing her posture to the stance of someone passionate, and she opens the door. Bess and George greet her with blazing smiles; Nancy gives silent thanks for their presence in her life. She would still be in Scotland with Kyler and Matt, had Bess and George not insisted to take her on a vacation. Nancy imagines that their insistence was due to them wanting to keep Nancy from spending Christmas alone on the road again like last year. “Nancy,” Bess stresses. “You’re never going to guess who we ran into in the lobby!” Horror strikes dull and loud in her ears. Surely, it’s not Ned. Please, don’t let it be Ned. George says, “Give you a hint: they were involved in one of your cases.” Nancy’s despair leaves her throat tight. She glances down the hallway, preparing to yank Bess and George into her room and dial her Cathedral contact to get them set up in witness protection.

“That didn’t narrow it down at all, George,” Bess says with a roll of her eyes. “Nancy’s been on hundreds of cases.” Nancy’s strain creeps into her one word: “Who?” Bess and George beam. “Maya Nguyn!” ++

Nancy follows Bess and George to the elevator in a hurried stupor. No thoughts can she conjure as she steps free from the elevator walls which seem to close in on her; Nancy marches into the lobby and notices a woman in the crowd of tourists. She stands with her back to Nancy, her hair drawn up in a bun, and her chin is lifted high with no time for games. Maya turns around and her bright red mouth stretches into a smile. “Nancy!” “Maya,” Nancy huffs in disbelief. She tenses in Maya’s sudden embrace before all but falling into it. This is something good I did; Nancy cherishes with shut eyes. This is someone I helped. When Maya pulls back, Nancy says, “What are you doing all the way out here? You said in your last letter, you were still in Washington.” “My house is technically there,” Maya nods. “But I get to work on the road more these days.” Her brows crease over a sympathetic smile. “Bess and George tell me you’re kind of in the same boat.” Nancy shrugs, struggling to hold Maya’s concerned gaze. “It’s just easier,” Nancy lies. Maya seems to see right through it, but she doesn’t speak on it. Nancy will have to thank her later. George says, “Maya offered us free tickets to a play she’s reviewing tonight and get this – it’s at the Globe Theater!” “Remind me what’s so special about a globe theater,” Bess sighs, checking her nails. “Not ‘a’, Bess, the.” George shakes her head. “The Globe Theater – well, technically it’s a reconstruction of the first one, but it’s where Shakespeare wrote his plays.” “It’s the opening night of a new play,” Maya explains. “And Nancy, you’ll never guess who the star is.” Nancy cannot take anymore guessing games. “Brady Armstrong.” Maya blinks. “Well – yes, actually.” Nancy frowns. “Wait, really?” “Yes,” Maya laughs. “I’ll be conducting an interview with him after the show if you want to go backstage and chew him out for all the stunts he pulled back in the day.” A spark of vigor heightens Nancy’s senses. That doesn’t sound bad at all. Still – “Are you sure we won’t be a distraction or –” “Nancy.” Maya’s hand falls on her shoulder. “You saved my life. You’re the furthest thing from a distraction.” Gratitude floods her before Nancy nods. “All right, then.” +++ The walk to the Globe would be depressive what with the sky being the color of a soaked napkin, but the Christmas decorations lift everyone’s spirits. Nancy limps by a shop playing Christmas oldies through the open door and she is borne back to her father listening to records over cocoa on Christmas morning. She tries to push the memory from her mind, then she thinks of building snowmen with Ned and having snowball fights that turned into the sweetest kisses she’s ever received. The music won’t stop. There are three Christmas trees in the display window and their flashing lights strike pain behind Nancy’s eyes. She pants through a sensory overload before someone squeezes her hand. Maya smiles in understanding as Bess and George walk obliviously in front of them. “It’s hard,” Maya says. “This life on the road. You pick up a few habits.” Nancy squeezes her hand in thanks before tucking her own in her peacoat’s pocket. “I want to enjoy this,” she admits quietly. “But I think the holidays are always hard.” Maya nods. “It won’t be this way forever, Nancy,” she promises. “I’ve got my fingers crossed for you.” Cross your fingers, there’s a story behind this door! Nancy swallows around the lump of panic in her throat. She plasters on a smile. +++ The theater is packed with noise and touching and all-around boisterous patrons. They find their seats in the crowd and Nancy doesn’t watch where she’s going – she must keep her eyes on the open ceiling to remember how to breathe. She sits down at the end of the group and Maya passes out programs. Quatervois, the title reads. Bess says, “What does that mean?” “It means you’re at a crossroads,” Maya says. “A turning point.” “Sounds a little dramatic,” George grumbles. Nancy traces the swooping lines of the title with

her thumb, repeating the process until the lights go down. The masked chorus emerges from the shadows and gives a synopsis: Down from Olympus a great hero emerges, Mighty in his strength and courage! A choice he must make Shall he ignore fate? Will he choose love, Or follow his destiny there-of? When Brady saunters on stage in an impossibly short silk chiton, it’s an out-of-body experience for Nancy. He still hasn’t grown his ponytail back, so Simone could very well be in the audience right now. Nancy rubs her aching temple at the thought. Brady begins his journey as the character Diogenes, a demigod that was supposedly – according to the play’s plot – written out of ancient Greek mythos. Diogenes must defeat those who want to leave him forgotten in history, lest he admit that he can’t win this fight and live his life like everyone else. Nancy assumes the play’s ending too soon. She imagines this will be a droll experience written only to paint Brady as a glorious hero that can conquer anything – but she is quickly surprised. Brady is stabbed in the final act and addresses the audience in a wail: And so my story ends a breath too early, No time to even be weary! The moon shall pass over my corpse, And the sun will beat down on my ashes with no remorse. Today, I have failed my quartervois Alone, forgotten, and lost. When the curtain falls, Nancy’s mouth is parted in disbelief as a tear burns down her cheek. They don’t receive a proper goodbye with Maya since the rest of the crowd is bustling toward the exit. She does have time to say that Brady is producing a new television series and will be scouting some locations further into Essex; Maya will be following the film crew there for test shoots. She embraces each girl individually and holds Nancy for a beat longer, whispering, “You’ll call if you need to talk?” “Of course,” Nancy says by impulse. “Same to you.” +++ Nancy is proud of herself for going out, but when she closes the door to her hotel suite, her back thunks against the wall and she must take deep breaths for several minutes. She decides to treat herself to a bubble bath even though it’s nearly midnight. She rolls her hair up into a bun and looks at it in the mirror, how haphazard and messy hers is in comparison to Maya. Nancy isn’t jealous – but she can’t help but notice when people are thriving. She wants to figure out how to do it herself and hasn’t found the cure yet. The bath is claw-footed and deep. Nancy sinks into the steaming water before goosebumps rise on her arms, and her freckled skin blushes in the heat. The water does wonders for her foot. She eases her head back on the lip of the tub and nears a light doze when her cell phone rings. It rests atop a stack of towels by the tub. Nancy wipes her damp hand off before looking to the screen. Frank Hardy. Nancy answers and taps the speaker button to relax back in the tub. “Hey.” “Hi, Nance,” Frank says, his voice a familiar balm after such a stressful time. “What’s going on?” “Things aren’t too different from last week’s call,” Nancy smiles. “But I’m on vacation with Bess and George.” “Oh wow! That’s awesome. I hope it’s been fun.” Nancy’s glazed eyes blink. “Yeah,” she rasps. “It’s nice.” She clears her throat, searching for her old enthusiasm. “But what about you? How’s Joe?” “Same as usual, a pain in my ass.” Nancy chuckles before a distinctive lift raises Frank’s voice. “We’re actually getting ready to get on a plane for a case – but I wanted to make sure everything’s good with you.” Nancy’s hand closes in a fist on her raised knee. “Gosh, it’s been so long since I’ve been on a case.” “Not really. You just took a few months off to stay with Kyler, right?” “Yeah, but that’s the longest I’ve ever gone without a case since I started.” “I’d give you ours if I could,” Frank says. “Really not looking forward to such a long plane ride. Oh, they’re calling for our gate – but do you want me call you when I land?” Gratefulness is a warm glow in her heart. “No, that’s okay – but

thank you. Be safe on your trip and tell Joe I said hi.” “Can do.” Frank pauses. “I – tell Bess and George I said hi.” “Can do,” Nancy repeats. She chews her lip. “See you soon?” She feels foolish for saying something when Frank is headed to a case. While the weekly phone calls have kept Nancy sane, it would be even better to see the Hardy Boys. “I’ll make it happen,” Frank promises. “See you, Nance.” After they hang up, Nancy struggles to get out of the tub with her swollen foot. She gets into a pair of sweats and wraps up some ice in a washcloth, then holds it against her foot. Nancy mulls over her conversation with Frank, wondering how much of her poor mood could be due to not solving a mystery. With a deep yawn, she tosses the soaked washcloth in the wastebasket, not able to walk to the bathroom to put it in the sink. She cuddles up to her teddy bear and flicks the lamp off when her phone rocks to life on the nightstand. Bewildered, Nancy turns the lamp back on to look at the screen. The number is unknown; she sees her hand tremble around the phone. She lets the call go to voicemail before the phone vibrates to life once again. Bracing herself, Nancy answers. “Hello?” “Yes, hello – I’m trying to reach a one Nancy Drew?” The voice is British and eerily familiar, like Nancy heard it in a dream. “This is she.” “Splendid! Oh, you wouldn’t believe the trouble I’ve gone to in order to find your number.” “Sorry? Who is this?” “Why, Nigel Mookergee. We met at –” “Blackmoor,” Nancy whispers. “Nigel, hi. What’s going on?” “I’m afraid the manner of my call is not a jovial one,” he says. “How should I explain this? Well, I suppose from the start. You see –” He sighs. “Don’t tell anyone I’m speaking of this, but the Penvellyns have fallen into a bit of… financial trouble.” Nancy says, “’Financial trouble’?” “It’s certainly not my business to spread, but yes. It’s not that they are a poor family by any means, but one diplomat’s salary is not enough to keep up a castle.” Nancy sits up, grabbing a pen and notepad from her bedside table. She jots as Nigel continues. “The Penvellyns began to host historical tours at the manor – much to Mrs. Drake’s dismay, I might add. Jane wishes to expand the business to the paranormal side of things, and I don’t quite agree with the idea myself, but she insists it’s just what the manor needs.” Nancy finishes scrawling and says, “So, you’re working for the Penvellyns now?” “Yes. I’m afraid there’s been some situations – inconsequential events, if you will – that need a glance over.” Nancy arches a brow. “You mean an investigation.” “Ah, such a serious word. I simply want to make sure we are fully prepared to expand the business.” Nancy’s eyes narrow. “Right. When would you need me there?” “As soon as possible -” Nigel catches himself. “I mean, at your earliest convenience.” Nancy glances over her notes, running her hand over the page filled by red ink. She closes her eyes against the sight and says, “I’ll be there tomorrow.”

thank you so much for reading! please let me know what you think and stay safe. and please consider following me here and on twitter! xoxo

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock & Mycroft Friendship/Brotherly Bonding - Prompt: Holmes brothers as kids, Myc being a good brother, playing the deduction game. - Words: 1,715

WARNING: MYCROFT IS A BIT NOT GOOD AT THE BEGINNING. THIS IS NOT MYCROFT HATE THO! ALSO, DEVIL CHILDREN WHO DON'T LIKE SHERLOCK MAKE AN APPEARANCE. IT DOES END WELL THOUGH.

That being said, I guess I should add a Trigger Warning for bullying.

I do hope you enjoy the story! Let us know!

"You simply are not trying hard enough, Sherlock! It's quite obvious!" Mycroft yelled. The Holmes brothers were standing in the living room in 221B. Mycroft had decided to pay his brother an in-person visit rather than just turning on the security camera he'd installed. Sherlock had decided to ask Mycroft to play the deduction game with him over a cup of tea. Sherlock was rarely so cordial with Mycroft thus Mycroft was, not that he'd admit it, concerned that something was wrong. He realized he'd miscalculated greatly (again, he'd never admit that) when, only an hour later, a shouting match had ensued.

"Really? Obvious? You're bloody insane, Mycroft! That solution is simply not possible!" Sherlock yelled, dressing gown swishing dramatically as he waved about.

"Look at the facts little brother. We've eliminated the rest. And what do we say about what remains?" Mycroft attempted to bring his voice back down to it's normal, placating, patronizing tones.

"Must be the truth," Sherlock replied, hanging his head low as he finally came to rest on the couch. Mycroft briefly, and rather guiltily, pictured Sherlock as a whipped puppy tucking its tail between its legs. He hadn't intended to hurt his brother so, but the damage was done.

'Nothing worse than past fights,' Mycroft thought. 'He'll recover in a few hours.' He decided not to reconcile at the moment as that could quite easily be taken as caring. 'Sherlock knows I care about him, I just don't want to appear too soft,' Mycroft justified mentally.

"Very good, Sherlock," He said aloud. "I understand you couldn't see it my way today. Perhaps one day you'll be able to think clearly about things." Mycroft turned to walk away. "Perhaps once your brain recovers from your last overdose. Maybe then it will return to acceptable functionality."

'Why did I tack that last jab on?' Mycroft wondered. 'Perhaps I really am becoming too calloused.' He shrugged off the thoughts for the moment as he got in his usual black limousine for the ride home.

Back in 221B, Sherlock sat crying on the sofa for some time. Soft whimpers of "Myc" fell from his lips occasionally. Eventually, he fell asleep, although not a restful one.

"William! Come outside! It's a perfect day to explore!" Sherlock's mind palace had conjured up the memory he was trying so hard to forget. He saw everything so clearly though. Mycroft, still as proper as ever, yet this Mycroft was more free, more innocent. About 14 years old and just under 5' 7", Mycroft had already adopted most of the personality that would stick with him for the rest of his life. Sherlock was seeing his memory as though it was a movie he could walk through. He didn't see it from his 7 year old point of view. Rather, he watched on the sidelines. He looked around and found himself in the backyard of their childhood home. Mycroft was examining a particularly bright patch of flowers by the corner of the house. Some of them had been crushed, others torn up.

'The old tabby cat,' Sherlock remembered fondly. 'Mrs. O'Malley did always let that cat wander too much.'

"I'm coming, Mycie!" Sherlock heard behind him. Turning about he saw himself, right at 4' tall, running out of the house to join his brother.

"Tell me, William," Mycroft said. "How do you think these flowers were destroyed?"

"The old tabby cat, Mycie! That's easy! Find me something harder!" His 7 year old self exclaimed. Mycroft smiled approvingly and patted little Sherlock's shoulder.

'I can't seem to recall why he ever stopped calling me William,' Sherlock thought. Shaking his head in his dream, he chuckled silently. He knew he would remember, but his mind was attempting to fool him.

"Timothy Lexington," Mycroft called out, tossing a frisbee to young Sherlock. He caught it absently, brows drawn together in thought.

"Blond and blue, 19, 5' 9", science class, held back a year," Sherlock replied, throwing the disk back with a smug grin.

'The original deduction game!' Sherlock thought with an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Sitting on the grass, he settled in to watch.

Mycroft had gotten into the habit of having Sherlock deduce his classmates to the nth degree.

"Why was he held back?" Mycroft quizzed, returning the frisbee.

"Cheating," Sherlock replied, about to throw it back. "Wait," he paused. "Cheating and skipping class." With every throw, Mycroft would ask a question or name a person, and with every catch, Sherlock would answer.

"Samantha Hanshaw."

"Red and green, 17, 5' 5", fairly intelligent. Moved ahead 2 levels over the summer." Mycroft was just about to catch the returning disc when Sherlock added, "And she has a crush on you. She likes your intellect." Mycroft completely froze. The frisbee hit him squarely on the forehead, snapping him out of his trance. "Mycroft! Are you ok?" Sherlock yelled, all deductions forgotten.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mycroft assured him. "Let's go up front." The two Holmes children ran around to the front yard and Sherlock hurried to catch up. As he was about the round the corner, he noticed a group of boys, about his younger self's age, bicycling down the road.

'Oh,' Sherlock remembered. 'This was it.'

"William! Want to come and play with us?" One boy yelled, coming to a stop in front of the house.

"Can I, Myc? Please?" The younger Holmes asked. Sherlock could see the love and care in Mycroft's eyes. But also the sadness.

"They're no good for you, Will," He whispered, kneeling down to his brother's level. The younger's face dropped, tears welling up in his eyes. Mycroft hesitated briefly, hoping with all his heart he was making the right decision and that his initial readings of those boys were false, and added, "But if you want so badly, I suppose an hour or so wouldn't hurt." Sherlock lit up and hugged his brother around the neck.

"Thanks, Mycie! I'll be good! I'll be back in 1 hour!" Sherlock then ran across their large front yard to the road to meet up with the other boys. Mycroft began to walk into the house when he heard yelling.

"Where's your bodyguard now, William? Think you can just use your brain to get out of this, William?" Mycroft's heart sank. Those scumbags were holding Sherlock down on the pavement, kicking him. "Freak! Weirdo!"

"Leave him alone!" Mycroft bellowed. Sherlock had been struggling, trying to get away from them, but there had simply been too many. The bullies quickly scattered, grabbing their bikes and running off. Mycroft pulled Sherlock onto the grass immediately.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whimpered.

"No, no, William. You don't have to be-"

"Don't call me that!" He yelled. "Never again! If I'm to be a freak, I'll be named as such. Never call me by that name again. Call me Sherlock from now on." Sherlock's face had turned adamant, a preview of his future personality.

"But-"

"Please?" Sherlock begged, face softening once again. Mycroft silently nodded and pulled Sherlock in for a hug.

"Come on inside. Let's get you washed up and have some cake together, hm? Sounds good, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, the name feeling strange on his tongue. He certainly did not think the name sounded freakish, nor was his brother a freak, but he would, at least for now, make his brother happy.

"Yes, please."

"And Sherlock?" Mycroft continued, pausing his steps. "I'll always love you and I'll always take care of you. I will never hurt you. Never forget that."

Sherlock woke up with a start, gasping and still sobbing a little. His face was sticky with half-dry tears.

"I will never hurt you." Those words echoed in Sherlock's mind. It seemed that these days all Mycroft had done was hurt Sherlock.

'Not that it was really his fault,' Sherlock thought. 'I'm really the cause of it all. Maybe if I could find a triple homicide I could finally make him proud.' Sherlock shook his head. He'd already solved those types of cases. He really didn't know what to do to make his brother happy. Turning over on the sofa, he looked to the abandoned mugs on the coffee table. No doubt, the contents were far past cold so Sherlock got up and took them to the sink. Hearing the door lock click, he readied himself for an intruder since no one else he knew should be coming in at this time of day.

"Sherlock?" He heard a voice call out.

'Mycroft?' Sherlock wondered. 'Why is he here?' Slowly, Sherlock walked out of the kitchen.

"What do you want?" He spat, unintentionally angry.

"I wanted to apologise. I'm sorry," Mycroft said, absolute sincerity showing on his face. Sherlock was surprised beyond words. Mycroft quickly took in his brother's appearance and realized he was responsible for it. Mycroft sighed lightly before continuing, "Lately all we've done is fight. That's not right for brothers. Even arch-nemesis brothers," He said with a smirk. Even Sherlock chuckled at that. Turning serious once again, Mycroft continued, "Please believe me when I say I'm sorry. I-" He paused for a moment, deciding he may not have another chance like this for a while. "I'll always love you, little brother, and I'll always take care of you. I will never intentionally hurt you. Never forget that. I may be harsh sometimes and say things I don't mean when I'm especially frustrated but I'll try to say 'I'm sorry' a bit more."

"I love you too, Mycie," Sherlock replied, hugging his brother tightly. Mycroft smiled fondly at the man who, at the moment, was burying his face in Mycroft's suit jacket. Mycroft hugged Sherlock back.

"I'll always care, William," His brother's name finally felt right again after all these years. "You're never a disadvantage."

"Neither are you, Myc," Sherlock replied with a smile. "But you know you're not allowed to call me that around anyone else. Not even Mummy and Daddy." Mycroft nodded. "Good. Now why don't we stop this emotional madness and finish what we started," Sherlock commanded. To the average person, it would seem Sherlock had gone back to normal. But Mycroft saw the glint in his eyes. "Chocolate cake with whipped icing?" Sherlock offered.

"Of course," Mycroft smiled, taking the plate and sitting again in the living room. "Cluedo?"

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Epilogue

The polar white stars were sparkling and shimmering in the Alicante skies like bejeweled grains of sand allowed to sparkle in silence. The adamas of the demon towers were giving a bright glow on the streets, highlighting the people walking on it. Everything was perfect and there was a calming silence.

All the couples gathered on the rooftop of Magnus' loft for a much-needed get-together. It's been more than a week since Malec's anniversary and everything was getting back to normal. Magnus was getting used to the new lifestyle and powers. He had started gaining control over his magic and the newly developed wings with the help of Alec and Daniel, or more precisely Daniel, as his wife is a warlock too and he made the same mistake as Alec. It was a struggle for him in the beginning, but as his husband said, he was one of the strongest warlocks to ever exist, he had gained control over himself sooner than expected.

Alec was more than happy to see his husband getting back to normal. He was no longer crying and zoning out at times, his nightmares have reduced a lot, he still gets those sometimes, but it's not that bad like before, which made him realize that he did the right thing by becoming an immortal. He got out of his thoughts when a strong pair of arms wrapped around his waist tightly.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Magnus asked.

Alec turned around in the cage of his husband's arms and pecked him on the lips. "Thinking about my charming husband."

"Hmm... I am charming!"

"Stop making us uncomfortable and get your asses back here, right now!" Izzy shouted in the background.

Both men rolled their eyes together at that.

"Shall we?" Magnus asked.

"Shouldn't keep the birthday girl waiting!"

They both walked towards the center table Magnus had conjured for the celebration. It wasn't just a get-together, it was also Izzy's birthday week and she was celebrating every single day of it. But today was actually her birthday and she was on cloud nine.

There was a huge vanilla flavored cake kept on the table which was yet to be cut, and there were several gifts scattered around the table. On a separate table nearby, the arrangements for the dinner were done. She had already celebrated her birthday in New York in the morning with the whole family and they all decided to keep the night for the couples only as they haven't had a chance to spend time together in ages.

"Seriously, both of you. At least wait till we are gone! Jeez!"

"Shut your mouth, Herondale. You know that I bear you only because of Alexander, right?" Magnus said.

"You know what, Magnus, I love you too!" Jace said mockingly.

"Okay, cut it! I can't stand you both sometimes!" Alec said while shaking his head.

"Can we now focus on my birthday!"

"Izzy, did you realize you're cutting your birthday cake for the sixth time?" Jace said.

"It's my birthday, I'll do whatever I want!" She shrugged.

The others sighed and shook their heads. They know how Isabelle Lightwood gets when she's excited and wants something. When everyone was finally gathered near the table circling around her, she cut the cake and made the wish, a wish she really wanted to come true. Everyone sang for her and gave her birthday wishes. This was her day after all. They then grabbed their plates and filled them with whatever cuisine they wanted, which Magnus had summoned for them.

After filling their plates they sat on bean bags or mini couches Magnus summoned to decorate the place, savoring the delicious food on their plates.

"Okay, where are my gifts? And don't tell me these empty boxes are my gifts! I'm not a fool!" Izzy said fiercely.

"Seriously Izzy, you used the transparency rune!" Alec shook his head in disbelief.

"What? I wanted to know what you people got me!" She shrugged.

"Then thank the angels that we didn't put your surprise here!" Jace said while shoving her hands away. "Hands off my bacon!" But she was fast, she quickly grabbed one piece of bacon.

"A surprise? You guys really planned a surprise for me?" She asked while chewing on the bacon.

"Why not, Isabelle, a woman like you with such a strong and fierce nature deserves everything."

"That's so sweet, thank you, Magnus."

"You're most welcome, Isabelle." He clicked his fingers and four different sized boxes appeared near them, two of them were really huge, one was from Magnus and the other one from Clary, the other two boxes were kept on the table, a big box one was from Jace and the smallest one which mostly looked like a card was from Alec. When they were done with their dinner, he waved his hands and all of their empty plates disappeared.

"Seriously, big brother! What is it? A sorry card?"

Alec sighed and shook his head. "Just open it to find out."

"Fine! But first," she looked at all the four boxes then looked at one of the bigger boxes which had 'Happy birthday future Parabatai' written on it. "I'll open Clary's."

She jumped from her couch and quickly walked towards it, opening it as quickly as possible, without caring about the wrapper. Everyone shook their heads at her excitement and Alec looked at Magnus wondering how similar they both are when it comes to gifts. A loud gasp and high-pitched squeal brought him back to reality.

"By the angel! It's beautiful. Thank you, Parabatai." There was a beautiful black dress worn over a dummy with some silver jewelry over it. The dress was speaking of confidence and fierceness just like Izzy.

📷

"This is for our Parabatai ceremony, Izzy. We decided on black, so here it is. You have to wear this only, else I'll get upset." She fake pouted.

"Don't worry, Clary, I'm definitely going to wear it. And now I get to choose yours."

"I'm sure you'll choose the best for me, like always."

Izzy walked towards her and hugged her tightly. "Thank you, Clary."

When they broke the hug she looked at the other gifts. "Now, let's see what my brother-in-law got me." She looked at Magnus and smiled.

The box was similar to Clary's but a little wider. She quickly opened it like the previous one and gasped. There was a beautiful antique gold-colored draped gown worn over a dummy with some light antique gold jewelry on it.

📷

"By the angel! It's gorgeous. Thank you, Magnus." She walked towards him and gave him a gentle hug, as she was aware of the new unknown powers he now possesses.

"I hope you liked it, Isabelle."

"Like it? I love it, Magnus. Though, I need to think of an occasion to wear it."

"Hope you'll find one soon."

She hugged him once again then walked towards the table picking up the bigger box first. As soon as she opened it she gasped and covered her mouth then looked at Jace.

"Jace! Oh my god! I don't know what to say. How?" She looked at different weapons and advanced weapons forging tools, tracing her fingers over them gently. These were the tools one can find only with the iron sisters and she was only able to use them once when she had forged Glorious.

"I'll be honest, I got a little help from Clary. I noticed your frequent visits to the weapons room and I knew you missed being there. Everyone knows your love for weapons, Izzy. So I thought this would be the best gift for you. Happy Birthday!"

"Thank you so much, Jace." She kept the box on the table and hugged him tightly. When she broke the hug, she looked at the final gift and sighed. "Now, let's see what your sorry card reads, Alec."

"It's not a sorry card, Izzy!"

"Seriously, Alec, what is it? You could've done better than a card. Magnus, at least you should have helped him." Jace said.

"To be honest, Jace, even I don't know what's in that, he didn't let me near it."

"You were that embarrassed, Alec," Izzy said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Alec sighed and shook his head. "Just open it, Izzy."

Izzy obliged, she removed the unnecessary wrapper quickly then opened the thin box, but when she saw the contents of it, her eyes watered. She looked between the box and her brother. "Alec.." She softly breathed out, put the box on the table, ran towards her brother, and hugged him as tightly as possible.

"Izzy! You haven't even seen it completely."

Everyone looked at the siblings with confusion.

"Okay, what's in that box that he got this treatment from you and not me!?" Jace said, slightly offended.

"You won't believe it, Jace," Izzy said, she picked up the box again and ran her fingers through the contents of it softly, then picked up a tiny bracelet from it which was slightly broken from several edges, but by looking at it, it was clear that it had been tried to repair recently.

It was one of her favorite bracelets she used to wear in her childhood a lot. It never was perfect as it was handmade and gifted by Alec himself on her 4th birthday, but she always loved it because her big brother had put effort to gift her something when he was barely 7 himself. It was too close to her heart that she never removed it from her hands but it got broken by Max accidentally when he was six months old and was playing with her. She doesn't remember if she had ever cried like she did that day. She lost it after some time and never found it again.

Next, she picked up a silver necklace which was in the same condition as the bracelet. She laughed softly at that and a teardrop fell on her cheek. The necklace had a wooden pendant that had a Lightwood symbol engraved on it. She remembers it really well, it was handmade by both her brothers and was gifted to her on her 13th birthday. She lost it when she was on a hunt with Maryse and both Jace and Alec got mad at that. She kept it down on the table then picked up the next thing.

It was the first-ever dark red colored lipstick she got when she was around six years old and started gaining interest in makeup and dressing up. She used to watch Maryse dressing up and wanted lipstick like her, she created a fit until she didn't get it. She didn't know how, but Alec managed to get her one and she was way too happy about it. Her happiness only lasted till the time Maryse found out and took it away.

She kept it on the table then picked up the next item, a princess tiara she got from Alec when she was barely two years old. She always used to play with it a lot, until she broke it and then lost it which made Alec mad and it took her nearly a week to convince her brother and get an apology from him. She looked at her brother with tear-filled eyes and kept the tiara on the table gently.

She gasped when she saw the next content of the box. It was a beautiful calligraphy pen made out of the feathers of Alec's wings. Looks like her recent interest in calligraphy didn't go unnoticed. She wanted an old-styled feather pen for calligraphy and now she has one.

"By the angel! Alec, how did you make a pen with the feathers of your wings?"

"They molted a few days ago, so I thought why not put it into use. And I saw how much you admired them so.." he shrugged.

She kept the pen on the table delicately then took out the next content which was actually a card but not a sorry card. On the front cover of it was a collage of her and Alec's pictures from their childhood till now. She opened the card and on the next two pages, there was a handwritten message from her big brother.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Happy 23rd birthday, Izzy.

I didn't realize when my little princess got this big when she became a strong, fierce, and full of confident women. I'm really proud of the person you've become. I knew that you were always outspoken and confident, but I didn't know that deep down inside you were empty. I'm happy that you found someone like Simon. You both are meant for each other.

I feel really lucky to have a sister like you, Izzy. You knew about me when I didn't know myself, supported me, and understood me. And for that, I can never thank you enough. I know I can never say it out loud to you ever, so I'm writing it here, thank you for inviting Magnus to my wedding that day, I don't want to imagine what would've happened if he didn't crash it that day. I know it was his decision, but you played a big part in it, you saved me from myself, Izzy. And thank you so much for that. I don't know what I did to deserve a sister like you, didn't know when my little princess became this mature. To be honest, I didn't know what to get you, so this was the only thing I could think of.

Happy Birthday, Izzy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izzy wiped the tears falling on her cheeks as she finished reading the card, then looked at her big brother and wrapped him in a tight hug. "Thank you so much, big brother."

Alec kissed her on top of her head and stroked her hair gently. "Happy Birthday my little princess!" He then picked up the tiny tiara from the table and placed it on the top of her head. Izzy laughed wholeheartedly at that.

"It won't fit me anymore, big brother." She smiled at him. "Though, how did you find all these?"

"I had my ways and my new powers as well. It helped."

"It was the most beautiful gift I got until now. Thank you."

"Wow, you both are such sibling goals." Simon finally spoke who was quiet the whole time.

"Shut up, Si! Don't you dare say anything, you didn't even get me anything, not even a card."

"Izzy, calm down, please. I did get you a gift, it's not just here right now."

"Really Simon, then when were you planning to give it to me? After the day ends?"

"Umm.. actually no. I was planning to give it to you after we talked to them about what we wanted to talk to them for a long time. So can we talk to them about it first?"

"What the hell did he just say!?" Jace asked.

Izzy ignored her brother and took Simon's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Are you sure, Simon?"

"Thousand percent, Izzy."

"Um.. what is going on?" Clary asked.

"We both want to talk to you all about something," Izzy said while holding hands with Simon.

"And that is...?" Alec asked.

"Actually, big brother, you are all aware of the recent call for help from the Ohio Institute as they witnessed the disappearance of downworlders at a frequent rate."

"What about it, Isabelle? I tried reaching for the high warlock of Ohio, I got no response but I got a reassuring message from her that she's not available for a meeting at the moment. Did the shadowhunters tell you something?"

"Actually yes, Magnus. I went there recently and found out that these disappearances were similar to the ones we witnessed when Aldertree tried to remove the downworlders from New York. We.." she looked around at all the attentive and curious expressions of everyone and continued. "We found Gabrielle Penn, she's... she's dead, Magnus."

Alec held his husband's hand tightly, he knew that they didn't know each other personally, but learning something bad about your own kind was hard.

"How?" Was all Magnus asked.

"When we found her, she was a mundane, she told us about what happened. Apparently, there was some shadowhunter who knew Aldertree and had worked with Valentine as well, he had the same mentality as them. We tracked down his secret lab and saved many downworlders but he ran away, the Ohio Institute is searching for him. Because Gabrielle was a 900-year-old warlock, her immortality caught up to her and she died after a few days."

"Izzy, I don't get it, what's the point here?" Clary asked.

Izzy exchanged a look with Simon. "We thought it was the last of heavenly fire which was used on Luke but we were wrong. We found more of heavenly fire in that secret lab and I took it to the New York Institute. You people are the first one to know about it, no one in the institute knows because we.. umm.."

"What is it, Izzy?" Alec asked.

"We want to use it on me," Simon answered for Izzy. Everyone's eyes went wide at that.

"Good riddance," Jace murmured under his breath, earning a kick on his shin from Izzy and Clary at the same time.

"Simon, are Elaine and Becky okay? Is everything all right? I thought you were liking with us, this world, even you said yourself th-"

"Slow down, Fray. I'm not planning on leaving you all. And Mom and Becky are fine. It's not that... it's, umm.." He looked at Izzy, who squeezed their intertwined hands gently. "I... I want to become a Shadowhunter."

"You've got to be kidding me! Is this why you weren't using your vampiric powers recently in your training?"

"Yes, Jace, that's why. And before any of you ask, I'll clear everything myself. We both wanted this for a long time and we are sure about it. It actually started as a joke, she saw my archery and suggested me to be a shadowhunter, but when I actually thought about it, saw you all training together, fighting for each other, the family you have, I couldn't help but want to be a part of it. And most importantly, I want to do it for Izzy, for my beautiful girlfriend. I want to feel again, every single part of it."

"Aww.. that's so sweet Simon. But are you really sure? It won't be easy to turn into a mundane then a shadowhunter, anything could happen."

"I'm sure, Fray. Besides, I've been training with the best shadowhunter, so I'm certain nothing bad will happen. I want this, for me and for us." He beamed at Jace, making him scoff.

"I'm just going to say one thing, Simon. I'm really happy that my sister found a person like you. And, about your archery skills, I want to see it." Alec said with a smile.

Izzy looked at her brothers and friends then at Simon, whom she was really proud of. "Thank you, all of you. I don't know how you people who've reacted to this, but I'm happy that you all accepted it."

"Why wouldn't we, Izzy. That vampire does annoy me but if you're happy then we all are happy for you. And, besides, don't let my training fail, Lewis. I've been training you for years, so if you're going to become a shadowhunter now, you shouldn't be an ass about it."

"He's not like you, Jace," Izzy said while smacking his head, making others laugh.

"I'm only going to say, all the best for your new life Simon," Magnus said.

"Thank you, all of you. It means a lot."  Simon said.

Izzy looked at him with pride and curiosity. "Now, Si, where's my gift?"

Simon shook his head at his girlfriend's curiosity. "Before that, Izzy, I want to say something to you."

Izzy sighed. "Fine, Si."

Simon moved towards her and held her hand in his. "Izzy, I don't know how to say this. I know I do talk a lot, but.. okay," he cleared his throat then continued, "Do you know when I got to know about this shadow world how freaked out I was, and your brothers only added to that misery." They both chuckled at that. "But, when I first saw you, I had an instant crush on you. The way you activated your angelic rune, you were hot and beautiful and sexy and I couldn't keep my eyes off you." Izzy winked at him at that and his face became red, but he didn't back off from what he was saying. "But, when we started to know each other, I saw a woman with a fierce and loving heart. You weren't just beautiful from the outside, you're beautiful from the inside."

"Aww... Si, thank you."

"I'm not done, Izzy. So, I was saying.. how beautiful your soul is. You saved me, several times in all these years and I can never get tired of that." He smiled at that, making her smile get wider.

"When.. when I died and became a vampire, I saw myself as a monster. I know I got help from Clary and Raphael to get used to that lifestyle, but you Izzy, you put a meaning to it. When Heidi put my family through that misery and I... I bit Becky, all I saw myself as the monster I was, but you, you held me together, told me that I wasn't a monster and that wasn't my fault. I was lost, didn't know what to do, where to go, but you stood by me, showed me the path which I wasn't sure about. You were there for me when I was going through hell." Simon had tears in his eyes and so did Izzy's.

"Simon,-" Before she could say further, he put his finger on her lips. She pecked on it and nodded, making him smile a little.

"You made me realize that I'm much stronger than I thought about myself, I was empty, lonely, and completely lifeless. But you put life into me and made me smile at the toughest of times. You were always there whenever I needed you." Izzy now had tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Do you know Izzy, when I thought that I had feelings for Clary, or for Maya, I thought I was searching for the right person for me, but deep down inside, I knew somewhere that I was falling for you. I was just trying to lie to myself that why will an amazing person like you fall for a nerd like me, I was just happy with the friendship we had."

"Simon..." Izzy breathed out in her choking voice, unable to form words at that. She was way too overwhelmed with the emotions flowing through her. So she squeezed their intertwined hand gently and smiled warmly at him.

"You are such an amazing, strong, fearless, understanding, compassionate, fierce, caring, loving, and independent woman, Izzy. I don't even have the right words to describe you. I feel so lucky to have someone like you in my life, someone so special that I never thought I would ever have. Do you remember when we made that pinky promise? That we'll stay single for life." They both laughed at that with tears still falling on their faces.

"Look at the irony now, Izzy. We've been together for five years and these five years are the best years of my life. You made me into this new confident person I'm right now, you saw through me and loved me even at times when I didn't deserve it. I guess that's what true love does to you. You made me a completely different person. You make me feel human again, make me want to cherish every single second with you. You're such an amazing person, Izzy, and I feel really lucky to have you in my life. So, that's why I wanted to ask you this."

He bent down on one knee and took out a small box which was in his jacket's pocket the whole time and opened it to reveal a beautiful rose gold colored ring which had a beautiful diamond on its center and was engraved with love knots on both sides, having small cut diamonds on it. Izzy gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.

"Isabelle Sophia Lightwood, will you marry me?"

Tears were running down from Izzy's eyes uncontrollably. "Yes! Yes, a million times yes, Simon. I love you so much."

Simon put the ring on Izzy's ring finger, got up, and picked up his fiancée in his arms, grinning widely. Izzy shrieked and started laughing, then took his fiancé in a passionate liplock. A collective clearing of throats caught their attention and they broke the kiss, blush creeping on both of their faces.

Izzy looked around and noticed that both the couples were standing far from them on either side of the roof, grinning widely and there was a huge circle surrounding her and Simon, made up of different varieties of roses. That's when the realization hit her.

"Wait, did you all know that he was going to propose?"

"Isn't that obvious, Izzy!" Jace said.

"Umm, Izzy, I obviously asked your family first for your hand, and they.. kind of helped me out," Simon confessed. Izzy couldn't help but smile at that. She was feeling ecstatic right now.

"Congratulations, Izzy. I'm really happy for you both." Alec said.

"We all are!" Clary chimed in.

"Now, this calls for a celebration!" Magnus said and waved his hands. A huge bottle of white wine appeared on the table and Alec glared at him.

"Just this once, Alexander. Please!" Magnus fluttered his eyes at him making him shake his head.

"Cut him some slack, big brother. Chill out."

"Fiiine!" Alec said in defeat.

Izzy and Simon opened the bottle together, then they filled their glasses and started chatting, laughing, and dancing around, enjoying the moment to their fullest, completely oblivious of the pair of blood-red eyes watching them from the infinity of the skies the whole time.

"So, you are the new angel that bastard created! Alexander. Gideon. Lightwood. It's never happening. There was only one immortal shadowhunter that lived and will always live. You are nothing in front of me. You have to die, Alexander Gideon Lightwood. You all have to die." With those last words, he shot his dull black wings through the clouds and vanished into the infinity of the skies.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE END

A/N I hope you guys liked this book. Don't forget to leave your reviews. They are really appreciated. Thank you ❤️❤️

[shaynawrites23]

Charming Date

Pairing: 1940s Bucky x reader

Prompt: “My mother warned me about guys like you.”

Word count: 1359 (I would have used the ‘keep reading’ function but I write on mobile soo...)

Written for @iliveiloveiwrite’s writing challenge!

Header is by the talented @peachesandpinks, go check out her blog! She writes for Harry Potter!

The smell of fresh bread grew stronger as you got dressed and ran a hairbrush through your hair, hissing softly every time you hit a group of knots. Once you were able to run your fingers through your hair freely, you pulled it into a neat back roll, slipping your favorite floral pin into it, the flower a single artificial lily.

It took you three tries before it was to your satisfaction, and you silently thanked God your mom didn't come to check what was taking you so long.

You twirled a couple of times in front of your mirror, watching the way your high-waisted, black skirt flared out before settling back around your legs. It matched perfectly with your cream colored blouse and black heels, and your red lips smiled back at you, your white teeth peeking out between them.

"(Y/N)! We're opening!" Your father's voice filled the hallway.

"Coming!" You called back, closing the door to your room and carefully making your way down the stairs.

Upon entering your family's in-house bakery, you were greeted by the strong smell of pastries and bread. Your mother spotted you standing in the doorway, handing you a muffin.

"Oh, you look wonderful, darling! That skirt fits you perfectly. This for anyone special?" She winked at you, one eyebrow raised at your halfhearted protests.

"Ma, stop. I don't have a boyfriend and you know that."

"Oh hush, honey. You'll have boys falling at your feet soon enough."

"Maybe too soon." Your father cut in. "You'll tell me if there are any boys I need to talk to, right?"

"Of course, dad." You groaned. "So, shall I get to work?"

They handed you two loaves of warm bread, reciting the addresses of the families to whom you were to deliver. You nodded, the little bell above the door tinkling as you left. The summer sun was just peeking out over the rooftops, enveloping Brooklyn in a warm light.

Your heels clicked against the pavement and you found your thoughts wandering in the peace and quiet of this Saturday morning. You were telling the truth when you said you didn't have a boyfriend, but that didn't mean there were no boys occupying your mind.

You rapped on the front door of the first address, pursing your lips as you waited. There was a boy, the only one capable of making you swoon with nothing more than a smile, but you had never told your parents about him.

The door creaked open, the elderly woman greeting you. You handed over the first loaf, exchanging pleasant small talk with her as you always did. Her bright blue eyes twinkled cheerfully as she gushed over your appearance. It reminded you of your grandmother, who did the exact same thing whenever you visited.

You politely declined when she invited you in, informing her of the deliveries you still needed to make. She let you go, but not before she got you to promise to visit some other time, muttering something about how, after her son moved away with his children, she had no company.

You readily gave your word, trotting back down the street as she closed the door.

Your second delivery went without a hitch, and as you made your way home, you found your thoughts wandering again. Your mind had seen him often enough to be able to conjure up a perfect image of him. His sharp jawline, brown hair that looked so soft, and a pair of the most beautiful blue eyes you had ever seen, eyes that could knock the breath out of you with one glance...

A whistled tune brought you out of your thoughts, and as you glanced around in surprise, you found the source of the sound.

Speak of the devil...

A man fell into step beside you, tossing you a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Hey doll," he drawled. "Didn't expect to see you out this early."

"Hi Bucky. I could say the same for you, got something special planned today?"

He gave a quick shrug. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm still trying to decide whether I should go through with it. How about you?"

It was your turn to shrug now. "Just handling deliveries for my parents."

"Really? 'Cause I thought you might have a date today, what with looking so especially gorgeous today."

Your cheeks flushed at his compliment, opening your mouth to reply, but he continued.

"But then I was wondering what young man wouldn't pick you up for a date, and I thought I might have to give him a lecture on how to be a gentleman."

Bucky's voice sounded jesting enough, and it might've been your imagination, but you detected some sadness in it as well.

"Well, lucky for you, I don't have a date today, or anytime soon, in fact. I'd hate to see you getting into another fight."

He didn’t reply for several moments, the both of you revisiting the last fight he had. It was to save Steve from a guy he provoked, a guy who looked almost twice his weight. Bucky jumped in, throwing a couple of punches but, being equally matched, they both took hits. You found him together with Steve, a large bruise forming on his cheek and a split lip, blood coating his teeth. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t break at the sight.

“Aw, doll, no need to worry ‘bout me. I’m a strong man.” He jokingly flexed his biceps. “I’m touched, though. What did I do to get such a beautiful dame’s attention?”

“I don’t think I’m gonna tell you, Buck. For all I know you’re planning to woo another woman with that information.”

“Darlin’, you wound me!” He pressed a hand over his heart, pouting. “I promise you, I’m only after one dame.”

“Uh-huh.” You rolled your eyes, but you were unable to wipe the grin off your face. “A guy like you? Likely story.”

“It’s true.” His hand slipped into his coat, and your eyes couldn’t help but follow his movements curiously. “I already suspected you might need convincing.”

You? Need- what?

He drew a single red rose out of his pocket, offering it to you with one of his million-dollar smiles. How could you do anything but accept, when it came to him?

The stem, fresh and green, was smooth, as if someone had painstakingly removed the thorns by hand.

As if guessing your thoughts, Bucky remarked, “I removed the thorns for you. Can’t have you nicking your lovely fingers.”

“Oh, wow,” you breathed. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“You’re welcome. So, do you believe me now?”

You were nearing home, and you didn’t want the conversation to end. Especially not with your brother sick and your extra workload, leaving you with little time for your social life.

“Of course I do.” You smiled, meeting his gaze.

Bucky had a stunning smile. “Good. So, doll, does that mean you’ll go on a date with me?”

“Hmm. What would you plan for this date?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “I’d pick you up Friday night at six, take you out to dinner, and then we’d go dancing, and I could show off the dazzling beauty on my arm.”

You huffed out a laugh. “James Barnes, my mother warned me about guys like you. Charming their way into your heart.”

You paused, just as the two of you stopped in front of your parents’ bakery. His tongue darted out to nervously lick his lips as he waited for your answer.

“Yes, of course I’ll go on a date with you.”

Bucky’s smile could light up the world as he laughed in relief and happiness, scooping you up into a warm hug.

“You really know how to make a guy sweat, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” A burst of confidence hit you and you leaned up, standing on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “See you Friday!”

You waved to him as you entered the bakery, giggling at his stunned expression, fingers brushing over the lipstick mark you left.

“(Y/N)! Who was that boy?”

“Mom!”

This was so much fun to write, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

[literary-spirit]

Chapter 5

The next day after first meal Bjorn, Torvi, and Bonnie cleaned out Rollo's old keep. The place was filthy. Rats the size of small puppies had made the place home and she wasn't entirely sure they weren't leaving without a knock down drag out. Aside from the rats, cobwebs and huge furry spiders dominated every crack and crevice in the structure. The situation was so dismal, she'd begun to have second thoughts. By the smug expression on Bjorn's face, she could tell he already knew she was about two seconds away from begging him to stay. Yet, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Not even if she had to accept canine inspired rodents

and tarantula like spiders as her new housemates.

Once they removed most of the dry rotted furniture and she'd thoroughly scrubbed the wooden plank floors with the same lard soap they actually used to bathe with, Bjorn said they were done for the time being. Since several hours of sunlight still remained in the day, Bjorn opted to go fishing at the harbor, while Torvi went off to train with the keep's other shield maidens. Bonnie decided to remain behind to work on a spell that would transform the ingredients she gathered the day before into things needed for her hygienic care.

From the first incantation, she could tell something was off. To say something was different with her magic would've been an understatement. Kind of like calling the sun sort of hot. Yeah, she'd always been powerful, thanks to her lineage, but there was altogether a new level of potency to her sorcery. Even the aftereffect of her spell presented in a way it had never done before. This new development caused simple enchantments that had become second nature to her, to get all twisted. And after about an hour of dealing with the same results over and over again, the frustration was fucking real! She slapped some of the ingredients off the stone table.

Damn it! She hadn't had a bath in almost four days. Pretty soon, she would be looking and smelling like who did it and why the hell you let it happen. "Shit, I wish I had my L'Occitane Almond Shower Scrub Duo from home in my hands right now!"

A tingling sizzle tickled the palms before the body scrub duo materialized in her hands. Shock nearly drove her to drop the containers, but she recovered in time and placed them on the table. Holy hell? What is happening? She stared at the half-used bottles from her and Niklaus' master bathroom. How the hell did she conjure these? She wasn't a conjurer. But then again, did she really conjure them or wish for them? Wait! Then did that mean she'd somehow fucked over the immortal witch spell and now she was a got damn Jinn?! She didn't wanna be a Jinn!

Shit! Stay calm. She shouldn't panic and since Jinns couldn't make wishes themselves there's no way she could be one. Hell, she could prove she wasn't a Jinn and correct one of their latest fuck ups in the process.

She closed her eyes and whispered, "I wish I was home." Slowly, her lids lifted to reveal the same hovel she stood in before she closed her eyes. An ache cracked her chest wide, "I don't understand. Why am I here?"

"To save my sons," an imperious, but deferential voice said from behind her.

She spun around to find the Queen of Kattegat, standing in her little hole in the wall. "Queen Aslaug." Her head dipped in a bow.

"Please, do not bow to me. It is I who should bow to you," she swept down in a graceful bow. "The sorcery within demands that I must. The mystical energy that surrounds you overwhelms and amazes."

Not knowing what the hell else to say, Bonnie focused on the Queen's prior admission. "Why'd you say I'm here to save your sons?"

"Because it is the truth. I dreamt of you, before you arrived," Queen Aslaug moved around the stone table, eyeing the shower scrub duo as she went. Once in front of her she stopped and clasped hands with her. "Your presence balances the scales against the many calamities waiting to wreak havoc on us all. I've foreseen it."

"Queen Aslaug-," she began.

"Let us not provoke the gods by further talks of this nature," she squeezed Bonnie's hands before releasing them. "You should go sit by the water in the cove before second meal."

Bonnie grabbed her shower duo from the stone table and placed them in the now empty basket. "Well, I did wanna wash." She gathered her last day dress, which was stiff, rough, brown, and barely grazed her ankles. It, however, was clean.

"Then wash you must," Queen Aslaug cosigned. Her gaze darted around the keep, "Bjorn, informed me you'll be residing here." She turned back to face Bonnie. "I'd offer for you a bench in the great hall, but I believe you to prefer privacy over comfort."

Bonnie gripped the handle of the basket with both hands. "That's true."

Queen Aslaug nodded. "While you're gone, I'll have thralls come finish putting your keep to rights."

"Thank you," Bonnie said.

"It is the very least I can do," Queen Aslaug said before turning to leave.

****

After her shower under the waterfall Bonnie felt more like herself. Though she was still confused by all that had transpired since she fell backwards in time at least she'd gained some stability. Now she'd be able to start gathering the pieces and putting things together. Once she finished oiling her body she redressed and headed back into the woods. Not long into her trek she realized she was being stalked. The sun had begun to make its descent. She didn't have long before darkness fell and whatever stalked her attempted to turn her cakes into a meal.

She thought about making a run for it but every show she'd ever seen on animal planet cautioned to never willingly offer chase to a predator. Yet, she was a melanin gifted woman in a melanin challenged land, slasher flick rule numero uno demanded that she haul ass. Decisions. Decisions. Decisions.

Bonnie released a harassed sigh. She neither wanted to get sweaty or bloody, "Look, you and I both know you're there so come on out. If you're gonna try and kill me you can at least face me before you carry out the deed."

A collection of seconds turned into a minute before she finally saw movement in the multiplying shadows. Moments later a shit ton of wolves varying in sizes and color inched forth on their bellies into the fading light of day.

 Each kept their heads resting on their front paws and their eyes downcast. A wolf the size of a small pony covered in golden white fur with a pair of crystal blue eyes 

continued to creep forward until his snout practically touched the toe of her shoe. Werewolves? In the Viking era? Of course, there are because no matter what the weird and freaky better known as the supernatural always seemed to know exactly where to find her! She was a fucking beacon for the strange and unexplained.

Bonnie squatted to trail her finger through the tufts of fur between his ears. "How are you all in your wolf forms when there hasn't been a full moon since I arrived. Either you're hybrid or cursed and since it'll be over another hundred years before the first hybrid is made, then you must be cursed." She trailed her hands over the length of the wolf's body. Though she sensed wild but potent magic, she didn't sense any dark energy it would take to invoke a curse. "Yet, I don't sense any dark magic." She stared into the wolf's eyes, "You fur babies must be something else altogether."

The wolf shimmered from canine to man, and then stood. One minute a gorgeous animal sat facing Bonnie, and the next all she saw was a slab of meat wearing a turtleneck of golden hair. She glanced up into a face that was cloaked in shadows by the light of the sun. For a moment, her next heartbeat refused to pound.

"Klaus?" She whispered.

A hand reached down to help her up. "I'm known as Ansel, Goddess."

"Ansel..." Wait, could he be..., "Why did you call me goddess?"

He laughed and the corners of his eyes crinkled the way Klaus' did when something genuinely amused him. "Because that is what you are, the Goddess of Twilight."

Her eyes popped. What in the Stephanie Meyer madness was he talking about? "E-excuse me who?"

"The prophecy foretold your arrival," Ansel said, still clasping her hand in his. "It was divined, your appearance would relink the descendants of Fenrir with their witchery lineage thereby affording us control over our shift."

This sounded like some sun and moon curse mumbo jumbo. Disregarding his nudity, she stepped closer. "Who spoke of this prophecy to you?" Maybe this person was a millennial throwback as well.

"We've always known of this foretelling," Ansel said, punching holes through the hope she'd managed to gather, "but the one who came before you did confirm the prophecy would come to past."

"The one who came before me?" She questioned, practically dripping desperation.

"Yes, the dark woman," Ansel answered, his eyes searching hers. "She lives deeper in the forest. Not many non-shifters venture that far into the woods. For those who have a mind to try, there are spells and curses in place to ensure no one unwanted reaches her."

"Ansel, I have to speak with her," she dropped her basket and covered both of their hands with her other, "Can you take me to her?"

His head bobbed. "Come," he knelt and picked up her basket, "it'll be quicker if you hoist yourself on my back."

****

By the time they made it to the tiny shack deep in the forest, night had fallen. Yet, the zillion twinkling stars in the black velvet sky were able to pierce the canopy of leaves and provide an adequate amount of light for Bonnie to see. Ansel placed her on the ground a foot or so away from the door of the shack. The familiar energy wafting from the keep embraced her. She knew this magic. This was the magic of her ancestors. It was Bennett magic. Her magic.

The cloth barrier to the dwelling shifted and out stepped Ayanna Bennett. 

She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, but she could've been older. Bonnie had come to know her well during her brief afterlife on the other side. "You have the look of my mother. I don't even have to sense it to know you're my own."

For the first time since she'd been dropped in the middle of time Bonnie broke. She tumbled into Ayanna's arms and fell to pieces.

"Help me," she whispered.

"You're the answer to all of our cries," Ayanna whispered next to her ear. "The Goddess of All would not have sent you to us lacking. Whatever is needed you already carry with you. Come, we have much to discuss."

Once inside, Bonnie sat on a wooden bench next to a stone alter.

Ayanna handed her a smoldering cup of tan liquid. "Drink, it's an herbal concoction meant to ease fits. It also aids in uncluttering your third sight." Without further urging, she sipped the tea. "Now, tell me all."

"It all started with this ancient evil and an immortal man willing to sacrifice his eternity to save his child," she began, "and the sacrifice his lover made so he wouldn't have to." For the next several hours Bonnie recounted the entire twisted tale of her and Klaus. By the time she was finished, she could barely keep her eyes open.

"So, why do you believe this Niklaus is the Viking to which the prophecy refers?" Ayanna questioned.

Bonnie laughed like Ayanna had out joked Kevin Hart. "Who else is of Viking descent and stronger than Klaus?"

"Who else indeed! Seems to me, all you have to do is march back to Kattegat and tap one of the many Vikings there on the shoulder. I wager any number of them is stronger than this Niklaus," she said, waving a hand as if she was waving off the very thought of Klaus. "And why would you want to form a mate bond with him? The same disrespectful dolt who places other witches over you in his regard. As if anyone other than a witch of our familial line could shoulder the burden of being the eternal witch."

Bonnie's eyes closed and remained so. "Did I mention Ansel's his father?"

"Ansel?"

Klaus' fathers name is the last thing Bonnie heard Ayanna speak before sleep claimed her.

****

"We have to get her back. The sons of Ragnar Lothbrok is ripping away the forest looking for her," Ansel's voice penetrated the thick fog of sleep that held her captive.

She heard a clucking sound, then Ayanna. "Calm yourself. They'll never make it past the first line of magic."

"That is what I'm trying to tell you, woman," Ansel bellowed. Frustration clear and plain in his tone, "they already have."

"What? How is that..." Ayanna's voice trailed off. "It's her. Her magic shields them. Why is this so?" A moment past, and then she felt Ayanna's lips at her ear. "You've learned many things on your spiritual voyage last eve. Things which must be considered. You have to return, Bonnie. For not only have you and your wolf achieved the goal you sought, but you've also attained so much more."

When next she opened her eyes, she was laying on a pile of fallen leaves and wildflowers. Her basket sat next to her head, while every last son of Ragnar stood staring down at her with varying expressions. Actually, everyone except Ivar who more or less leaned over her shooting her a unit inspired with nothing but ill intent.

"Um, good morning," she said, lacking anything of note to say.

****

"I thought you'd been raped and killed by Skogarmaors!" Bjorn yelled in her face as she drooped on a bench in the great hall.

Queen Aslaug's eyes rolled at Bjorn's antics,

 while his brothers peered on in silence. Their faces giving nothing away.

She had a banging headache and Bjorn was nowhere close to easing her pain. "I'm sorry, Bjorn. It wasn't my intention to worry you are your family."

"Ack! Loki take your intentions," He threw up his hands and turned away from her, "I have no worries for your intentions. For all I know they're harried paving a path to Helheim."

"Where were you, hmm?" Ivar questioned. His stare unwavering as always. "Your appearance speaks of you being sheltered from the elements. So, who sheltered you?"

"On my way back from the Cove I met someone in the woods. He told me some things that lead me to believe he knew someone who could understand the reason I've come to be here," she said, attempting to be as honest as she could without placing Ansel or Ayanna in danger.

"You said, he told you," Bjorn turned around to face her.

She gave him a slow nod, "yes."

"Name this man," Bjorn demanded.

Reluctantly, she shook her head. "I'd rather not."

"I've heard sagas of a dark woman dwelling in the deep of the forest," Ivar said, while his steady gaze tracked each expression that crossed her face. "Many have spoken tales of her being a witch."

Queen Aslaug laughed. "Ivar, halt with your tales of spirits and witches. You're being distressing."

"Did you allow yourself to be plowed by this man?" Sigurd asked, straight facing the hell out of her.

"Sigurd!" Queen Aslaug released a heavy sigh before taking a sip from her cup.

"What? I'm sure that was Bjorn's next line of questioning," he defended.

"No," Bonnie snapped, chopping Sigurd up with a unit meant to leave him DOA, "There was absolutely no plowing going on between me and this man." To her surprise, Bjorn exhaled a sigh that appeared to be motivated by relief. She stood and walked over to Bjorn. Placing a hand on his arm, she gazed up at him, "the only reason I followed him is for answers. That's all, Bjorn. I swear it upon our oath."

She watched the anger and tension drain from his face as he reached up to cup her cheek. "Did you learn anything?"

"No," she emphasized with a sad dejected shake of the head, "I was given some kind of herbal concoction while there and I fell asleep before finding out anything. When I awakened, you guys were standing over me."

"I'm sure in time you'll have your answers," he allowed his thumb to trace the path of her cheek before returning his hand to his side.

She gazed out the great hall door toward the forest and prayed to the mother of all he was right.