#clear braces in Miranda

[liaromancewriter]

May I Have This Dance?

Premise: Is there anything more romantic than slow dancing in the kitchen on a do-nothing day?

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,175

A/N: For narrative purposes, this is set on the same day as Sleeping Beauty. Submission for @choicesprompts Flufftober prompt "Can I have this dance?" I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 54, prompt 1

Ethan Ramsey stared at the announcement for this year’s homecoming dance tacked onto the noticeboard in the hallway. His hands itched to snatch a flyer to peruse later, but he kept them tightly fisted to his sides.

There was a reason he’d ditched the whole thing last year, he reminded himself morosely.

He couldn’t dance and wasn’t about to embarrass himself in front of the entire school. Plus, there was the whole awkwardness of asking a girl out. They tended to travel in packs, and getting one alone long enough to ask her without her friends staring and giggling nearby was as impossible as travel to Mars.

It was a pipe dream, he thought in dismay but unable to unglue his feet. He wasn’t in a position to go, and that was that. Besides, who decided that participating in homecoming dances and proms was a right of passage for high schoolers?

Hollywood, that’s who. Twentysomething actors playing high school students didn’t make it all so. It was a fallacy, as most things in life were.

“Wow, you look fierce. Did you have a fight with someone?”

Ethan glanced sideways at the concerned voice of his neighbor and friend, Miranda Clarke. He inwardly grimaced at being caught boring a hole into the noticeboard.

She’d been the nerdy girl with braces and pigtails all through elementary and middle school. At the start of freshman year, he did a double take when she greeted him at the bus stop, no braces in sight, her blonde hair in a waterfall behind her and a pretty headband sparkling under the sun.

Miranda might look different now, but she was still one of the smartest and nicest people he knew. She also understood what it was like to be abandoned by a parent, or both parents in her case.

“Not a fight,” he said, lowering his voice to avoid being overheard by others, and inadvertently eyed the flyer.

“Ah,” she said, following his gaze. “I didn’t think school dances were your thing.”

“They’re not,” he muttered, feeling the redness splash across his cheeks.

Miranda’s eyes softened in sympathy, and he felt sorry for lying to his friend.

“It’s okay to change your mind, Ethan,” she said, lightly touching his arm. “No one’s going to care if you attend a dance one year and skip it altogether another. This isn’t about what anyone else wants, just you.”

“I know that,” he protested, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. Miranda had a habit of lecturing him when he was being cagey.

He straightened away from the wall and shrugged, adopting an air of indifference. “It’s moot anyway since I can’t dance.”

“Can’t?” Miranda placed a hand on his elbow to stop him as he turned to go. “Or don’t know how?”

Ethan sighed, his lips parting to deliver a well-versed white lie. But this was Miranda, and they’d known each other all their lives. She’d just hound him on the way home until he told her the truth.

“Don’t know how,” he admitted reluctantly. “I can’t exactly ask my dad to teach me, can I? He has enough to worry about.”

“You could ask me,” she suggested.

Ethan watched her warily. “You’d be willing to do that?”

She laughed. “Of course! That’s what friends do.”

Suddenly, her face turned serious, and she stared at a spot behind him, a light red staining her cheekbones. “Maybe after, you could ask me to homecoming? Only if you want to,” she added quickly when he froze like a deer in headlights.

“I would like that,” he said quietly, thinking about it for all of five seconds.

The bell rang for the next period, and he cleared the gruffness in his throat, raising his voice above the noise. “Thanks, Miranda. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, Ethan,” Miranda smiled. “If you’re not working today, we can have the first lesson after school. Around four, your house?”

Dance lessons and a date to homecoming, he marveled as they parted ways to head to class. The year was suddenly looking much brighter.

Twentysomething years later…

“I want to spend the day with you doing nothing. And by nothing, I mean…”

Ethan grinned as Cassie Valentine leaned on the kitchen island and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

It was the first Sunday since his return from Brazil and Cassie’s first official sleepover. There hadn’t been time for that before he left a couple of months ago. But now that they’d decided to give this relationship a real chance, they wanted their private moments to be less stolen and more intentional.

“In case you haven’t noticed, the day is half over,” he said, pretending disinterest as he rinsed a skillet and stacked it in the dishwasher with the rest of the dishes from a late brunch. “If only you’d woken up earlier, we could have had so much fun.”

“Sunday mornings are made for sleeping in,” Cassie’s brows knitted in exasperation. “Especially after the week I had. And I thought intern year was bad.”

“You’ll adjust,” he commented unconcerned, pressing a button to start the dishwasher’s cycle before grabbing a cloth to wipe down the counter.

“What?” he demanded when he looked up to see Cassie watching him with amusement in her eyes.

“Nothing,” she said, coming around the kitchen island to stand before him. She glanced at the wipe cloth in his hand. “I had no idea you were so domesticated, Dr. Ramsey.”

He smirked, caging her in his arms. “I’m a man of many talents, Dr. Valentine.”

The sun was high in the sky, the glare of its rays bouncing off the treated glass. Soft music drifted from a Bluetooth speaker in the corner, casting a magical spell over the kitchen and its occupants and lending an air of romance.

“But can you dance?” Cassie whispered, caressing the nape of his neck with her fingertips.

“What brought this on?” Ethan arched one brow in curiosity.

“Since we’re getting to know each other,” she pulled his head down, “you should know that I love to dance, especially slow dancing in the moonlight.” Her green eyes sparkled, and her lips curved into a soft, dreamy smile. “Or in a sun-dappled kitchen on a lazy Sunday afternoon.”

The music changed to something slow and romantic, and Ethan found his lips hovering above hers, heart pounding with potent anticipation.

“So? Can you?” she murmured.

“Yes.”

Cassie closed the distance between them, gently pressing her lips against his, and he fell into the moment.

“May I have this dance, Cassie?” Ethan asked, sliding his hand into hers.

“I would love to, Ethan.”

He placed one hand on her waist, splayed his fingers and tugged her close. Cassie rested her hand on his shoulder, and he led her into a slow dance, their bodies swaying to the rhythm.

He followed the moves he’d learned all those years ago, dancing in the living room with Miranda. And when Cassie laughed as he dipped her low, Ethan sent a silent thanks to his friend for giving him this.

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All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Ethan & Cassie only: @cariantha @custaroonie @hopelessromantic1352 @mrs-ramsey @youlookappropriate

[tiofrean]

For the ask game: Cardamom

Hello darling! <333 Ah yes! I thought you may be interested [eyes intensify]

Remember that little cinnamony fic? Well... I might have started a sequel. I've been working through my ptsd and I decided to write it out. I have no idea if anything will come out of it, but it's something I wanted to explore anyway so...

Silver is dealing with his own mental state after Howell doctored on him (I'm remembering the I do not want this when his leg was cut off). He's getting worse and so is his leg, because his mental state is not letting him take care of it properly. Howell tries to help but it only makes Silver's state more miserable. Flint comes in to rescue him from himself, offering support and understanding (because if anyone can, it will be my broken boy after he had lost Miranda and Silver is the last piece of humanity keeping him together... especially after Cinnamon <3 )

I wrote some more about that in the answer to this ask.

Snippet:

Shaking his head to clear it, Flint sat down gingerly at the edge of Silver’s nest of blankets, then leaned forward so he could see his face better. John’s eyes were still shut, but they opened as soon as he heard him speak. The wildness of that gaze twisted Flint’s stomach, and the way John became completely motionless made something tickle the back of his mind. He had seen it before. 

“He’s probably right. You should have that leg checked,” James observed, trying to remain clear-minded. The fear in John’s eyes only deepened, even if he tried to cover it up with an impatient shake of his head. “It’s fine,” he muttered back, grinding his teeth together. Flint sighed. “John-” “I said it’s fine,” Silver snarled, then looked around like he was searching for something. 

The moment his gaze fell upon his crutch, propped up against the desk, he sat up straight, ready to run. He grimaced in pain, but Flint suspected it wouldn’t be enough to stop him from dashing madly towards it. On instinct, he threw one arm out, which turned out to be a good thing - as soon as John had hopped down from the sill, his whole frame wobbled, and he pitched forward unsteadily. James caught him easily, bracing him up against the seat again, forcing him to sit back down lest they both lost their footing on the swaying deck. 

“Fuck, wait,” James cursed when he felt John struggling against him. “Let me go!” He demanded, trying to break free, heedless of his missing leg and his lack of balance. Flint grabbed him more tightly. “Wait, wait.” He shifted his hold and moved forward, trapping John between him and the window sill, both hands going to Silver’s wrists as he tried to push him away. “John, wait!” “Fuck off! Let me go!” “John-” “Let me go!” Silver near-on shouted, turning his face up to glare at him. The defiance in his eyes almost hid the dark void of fear, but Flint had seen it anyway. 

[manyothermusingsofmine]

Sticky Brambles || Drabble

Fandom: Xmen Warnings: uh, minor warning for intimacy talk I guess but it's nothing graphic Wordcount: 2481

Summary: A tumble into some bushes leads Kurt and Miranda to talk about some things on their mind. AN: I'll be honest idc what kinda plant decided to use Kurt's fur as transportation method just idk. pick one I guess.

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The fact that the mansion was surrounded by enormous trees with big strong branches made it near irresistible for the more acrobatically inclined among the crew to clamber all over them, swinging from branch to branch and tree to tree- Kurt especially could not resist that call from within; it was much harder to take the circus out of his heart than him out of the circus. The problem was that tree branches are even less predictable than gym equipment, and between him and Gambit the bars of the gym equipment indoors sometimes barely survived their core strengthening routine.

One of the branches that had already suffered during one of Storm's outdoor training sessions could decisively not support the weight of an acrobat, snapping under the strain. Normally that wouldn't be an issue with Kurt's ability of teleporting, but midway in his fall he noticed pretty much the last person at the mansion he wanted to see him fail like that. Because of it his brain crashed, unable to give him an location in time to poof away to and instead the blue mutant rather ungracefully tumbled into the thick shrubbery below.

Miranda had seen the whole thing, instinctively wincing at the sound of his fall straight into the unforgiving bushes. She jumped up on her feet, immediately going over and calling for him because the thick leaves didn't make it easy to see where exactly he had landed. That was until his white gloved hand stuck itself out from the specific patch he had landed in, with her immediately going over.

"I've got you," she assured even though her own voice sounded rather panicked as she pulled him up from the shrubbery, wincing once more. While he seemed mostly fine, Kurt had taken a tumble directly into a bush full of seeds with thick outer shells full of little barbs and hooks to cling to the fur of animals that came looking for a meal. And those seeds didn't care that Kurt didn't exactly count as a similar mode of transport; they stuck to his face and tail regardless.

"... Ow," he just muttered, the red heat of embarrassment painting shades of purple on his cheeks as he winced himself at the pull of the seeds on his fur and skin underneath. Miranda just helped him to a clearing first, carefully sitting him down under a tree.

"You alright? Are you hurt?" she asked, worry clinging to her voice as she carefully looked him over for more serious injuries like broken bones.

"... just a severely bruised ego. Of course you had to see that," he mumbled, his blush intensifying and a slight hiss leaving him as his tail tried to shake some of the seeds of and failed miserably.

"Yeah, sorry about that; I have the weird ability to always notice stuff like that," Miranda said, looking at his face and tail, "uhm, silver lining being that at least you wore your suit and these buggers dont seem to like the fabric of that- not like your fuzz anyway. I... Here, I'll try to get them off. I can't promise it won't hurt, but I'll try to be gentle, okay?"

Kurt just nodded, trying to brace himself as her nimble fingers went to work to pluck the seeds off his face first. It did very much feel like velcro being pulled away from him, and he definitely couldn't help the hisses of discomfort that left his throat.... It surprised him that those didn't make her back off. She just hushed at him softly, clearly trying to keep her touch as gently as she could while freeing him from the seeds that clung to his fur.

"My tail is going to be a lot more difficult; ow-"

"Sorry."

"It's okay. It's.. instinctual, you know? Sometimes I don't really have full control over my tail, it kind of does whatever it wants to do on its own merit."

"Kind of like how blinking and breathing usually isn't manual, or stomach growling when you're hungry?"

"Something like that," Kurt admitted as she managed to get the last seed off his face. Miranda gently cupped his face in her hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead that he couldn't help but purr to.

"Let me try anyway. Better to try and get some off then let them stick to your fur," she said softly.

"... Okay."

She gestured for him to swing his tail over to her, and her nimble fingers went back to work to pluck the seeds away from his fur. His tail did twitch with every one she removed, but since she only temporarily held on to the tail each time for a little support instead of holding it indefinitely everything seemed to be fine.

"Huh," she muttered to herself, green eyes flicking up to Kurt for a moment, "I've never noticed before, but the arrow tip doesn't seem to have any fur?"

"Oh, yeah. It kind of fades out to the end of my tail; the tip doesn't have fur but it’s also not really.. human skin?" Kurt mused, the tip of his tail lightly flicking, "same with my extremities. My fingers and toes fade out in a similar fashion to something kind of in between fuzz and human skin. I guess it’s because I still need to be able to feel; if the pads of my fingers and toes were equally as fuzzy as the rest it would mess with touch perception. Same with the tail tip, it’s pretty much like another limb to me that needs to be able to feel what it’s doing, especially with how instinctively it reacts sometimes. That's my theory, anyway. The very tips of my ears are also the same; no true fur there either, and... uhm... you know what, I'm not finishing that train of thought, if you don't mind."

She blinked, genuinely not understanding the sudden halt in his talking as it seemed to distract him from the feeling of having the things plucked off his tail- until she saw his blush deepen and a red hue of her own crept on her face. Oh.

Oh.

"I.... Uh... guess that all makes sense."

"Yeah. Sorry, didn't mean to make it awkward- ow."

"Sorry. And.. well, it was going to come up at some point anyway, right?" her green eyes slowly turned to the side, before she turned them back to focus on the task at hand, "hey... uhm, can I confide something in you?"

"Of course," his voice was soft, warm... comforting. It really did make her feel like she could tell him anything while for once in her life feeling like it wasn't being slotted away to use as ammunition against her later.

".... Sometimes I wish I was... you know. Normal. At least in that regard. That I had just hit the same milestones everyone else seemed to have done. Like, sure, I know not everyone makes it to the perfect average or whatever but... Maybe the whole thing would be less scary to me if I had previous experience, if I knew just what I was getting myself into. The technical know-how can only get you so far, but like, actually asking advice on what's supposed to be the emotional part to it feels so.. taboo, I guess? Like, you either end up with people who can't be serious about it for five seconds, who feel the need to make it a joke either because they never matured past a middle school age or because they're uncomfortable about the subject itself. Or you have people who do want to help but only.. I don't know. Take Shadow for example; sure I can ask her about the medical side of it all but when it comes to the emotional side and my inexperience with that whole element it feels like she… pities me."

"I don't think she pities you," Kurt very gently corrected, "It's just a difficult thing to talk about because the emotional side of it is so personal. To some the emotional side doesn't matter, to some a little, to others a lot... and... well, to someone like me, and I think you as well; the emotional side is the whole reason to even want to give it a try. It’s hard to give advice and guidance on that when it differs so much from person to person."

"I guess so... I'm glad we're having this conversation now, away from the mansion. It's easier to talk like this, truly one on one. Though I have to admit, watching Shadow threaten Gambit with a slipper for walking into the room she uses for consults while we were having a conversation is a sight to behold. She's scary when angry; scary enough to chase him off."

"Mh," Kurt hummed softly in agreement, his golden eyes on her, "and, hey.. Miranda?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you're weird or abnormal for not having that kind of experience. I mean, I don't either. So.. what I said before still holds true; we can figure all of it out together. Okay?"

"... Thank you. You're really sweet. I thought, you know, with you being a devout Catholic... I don't know. I thought talking about stuff like this would be more difficult. I think I'm the only one making it such a big deal," she muttered, carefully removing the remaining few seeds from his tail.

"If it’s any consolation, it's a big deal to me too," Kurt said softly, the expression on his face just as soft as he caught her gaze in his, "not because of my religion, but because it'll be with someone very dear to me."

Her blush intensified at that, her restless eyes unsure of where to look and in their dance to escape they just got caught in the warm glow of his eyes once more.

"I..." she started, her throat drying out as she tried to get the words out, "t... thank you. You're... You mean a lot to me, too.."

He smiled, slowly scooting closer to her as his tail instinctively started to wag. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and as Kurt curled up next to her, he took one of her hands to press a delicate kiss to the back of it. Miranda was sure she was turning a new, previously unknown shade of red, her invisibility rapidly flickering on and off for a moment until she willed it to behave. Kurt's tail only wagged faster at that, a small smile curling his lips.

"I think it’s so cute when you flicker like that," he said softly, only making her blush worse before it got a little less intense, "Sorry, I hope I'm not making it worse-"

"It's... I'm okay," she muttered, one of her hands finding his to hold for a little more comfort, "I... I think it doesn't know how to react to embarrassment. I guess it triggers the same adrenalin response of fear so it feels the need to click on but since I'm not like, actually physically in danger it feels like false alarm and wants to shut back off? I don't know. I plan on asking Hank or Shadow about it sometime."

"Either way I think it's cute," Kurt said in a small purr, gently pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes and behind her ear, "also, thank you for helping me out with my oh so graceful tumble into the bushes. I appreciate it."

"I do think you’re very graceful. And… you'd do the same for me."

In a soft moment of quiet between them, Miranda silently rested her head to his shoulder as Kurt lightly tucked her head under his chin, his wagging tail wrapping around her on pure instinct. Quietly leaning into each other like that felt like genuine bliss for a while, until Kurt's sharp ears picked up the sound of footsteps drawing near. His eyes opened and quickly found a very thick branch that would support both their weight, immediately teleporting both of them up there and pulling Miranda into a protective embrace. If he did miscalculate the weigh carrying ability of the branch again, he wasn't going to let her get hurt in his stead. Both of them looked down at who came scurrying through the bushes and both let out a sigh.

"It's just Gambit," Kurt huffed, "surely you told him by now, like you did with your other friends?"

Miranda just blinked at him a few times, visible confusion on her face; "Uh, I figured you'd tell him that we're together. He's part of your friend group."

"The two of you are like peas in a pod, Süße. I figured you would tell him."

"Well, from the smell of it Kurt's been here," the voice of the Cajun below interrupting their soft back and forth on who's responsibility it exactly was to officially clue Remy in on the change in their relationship, "sure hope he ain't up to something with fifolet."

"Nothing you'd do when no one's watching, anyway," Kurt lightly growled in a response his friend wasn’t supposed to hear, rolling his eyes as Miranda giggled at it, "seriously, I wish this was an apple orchid. I'm sure I could directly hit him from here."

Miranda elbowed him as she tried desperately to not burst out in laughter and give their position up in the canopy away.

"Where is fifolet anyway? Haven't seen her the whole day either," Gambit mused to himself, to which Miranda just threw up a 'rock on' hand gesture before whispering 'skill issue'- to which it was Kurt's turn to try and not break out into laughter as Remy took off to wherever he felt the need to go.

"Peas in a pod, huh?" Miranda said to Kurt with a grin.

"I never said those can't argue," Kurt protested, "anyway; we'll figure out who gets the questionable honor of telling Gambit we're together, somehow. He's gonna be obnoxious about it, no doubt; but it also doesn't feel right to have him be the only one who doesn't officially know."

"Yeah, that's fair, but that’s also a problem we’ll deal with later," Miranda responded, curling back into Kurt's embrace to breathe in his scent for a second before lightly pushing herself back up to face him. Her eyes looked into his, momentarily flicking away before looking back, "Kurt?"

"Mhh?"

".... Kiss me?"

She didn't have to ask twice, with him eagerly fulfilling her request by pressing his lips on hers. One of his hands moved up to lightly cup her jaw, his thumb gently running over her skin as he deepened the kiss and could only smile at feeling her answer with the same amount of passion- all while her fingers hooked into the fabric of his suit to keep him close.

[ranchracoon]

Devour Ch. 23: Careful What You Wish for Daniela

On the way down to breakfast you pass by more of Izidora’s maids, none of them give you a side glance, or a scowl; some even smile and say good morning to you and Cassandra. It's nice, you can actually enjoy the company of your girlfriend without hearing whispers of disapproval or see disgusted glares. Cassandra purrs against you as the two of you walk together, she made sure to rub her scent all over your head and neck before you left the bedroom. Upon entering the dining room, you're greeted with an assault of flies that leave little nips along your body.

“Well good morning to you too.” You laugh.

Daniela and Bela appear in front of you, simultaneously leaning in and kissing your cheeks.

“Good morning!” They say together.

Your heart swells with happiness and love at how happy they are to see you. Slowly but surely, all of them and yourself are healing, returning back to normal. You take a seat where you sat the night before and Daniela sits on your lap, Cassandra huffs in annoyance at you being taken away from her while glaring at Daniela as she sits too.

“Oh stop it Cass, you had her all night, and if she’s not too tired…I’ll have her all day.” Daniela wiggles herself against your hips.

You yelp under your breath, the sensation already warming the bottom of your belly and making things tingle. Daniela purrs and rolls her hips more, digging into you with more friction.

“I can feel your heartbeat Y/N…and it’s not coming from your chest.” Daniela whispers seductively into your ear as she grinds her hips against you again.

The dining room door opens with a wide berth, Lady Dimitrescu crouches under and sighs when she stands upright again. Bela and Cassandra snicker at your flustered state, you are thankful Cassandra and Daniela’s smell mask the scent of your arousal, but your excited heart gives it away. You eye Lady Dimitrescu from the corner of your eye and she simply rolls her eyes as she walks past you with Izidora hot on her tail. She sits at the head of the table and Izidora sits next to you again. She flashes you a kind smile and a wink followed by a chuckle before she reaches over to hold the lady’s hand.

“Daniela, stop torturing the poor girl and go to your seat.”

“Yes mother.” Daniela replies as she flies away from your lap and into her seat.

During breakfast you catch the lady and Izidora giving each other side glances and soft smiles to hide their giggles. You eye the girls from across the table who only snicker and shake their heads. Looks like you and Cassandra weren’t the only ones up late last night. Toward the end of breakfast Lady Dimitrescu clears her throat and wipes a droplet of wine from the corner of her mouth.

“Alright you four, I do have a few announcements before you run off. I will be calling Mother Miranda today to inform her of Y/N’s recovery, so please be gentle until then. Afterwards, I could care less what you all do in your spare time, just keep it to a dull roar please. I would love to live in blissful ignorance of what is happening with my daughters.”

"Could say the same to you mother." Daniela retorts.

The lady glares at her daughter whilst the other two laugh. Your entire face gets hot as you adjust the collar of your shirt with your finger. Izidora hides her chuckle behind her cup as she takes the lady's hand into her own.

“With that being said, I do have another announcement that I will bring up to Mother Miranda. I have invited Izidora and her staff to permanently live here under the promise that you will not harm or harass them as you did with previous staff.”

“Yes mother.” The girls say in unison.

“That is all. Keep your…activities on the other side of the castle.”

The second she dismisses all of you, hundreds of flies surround you in the form of Daniela who leans to your ear. Her hands brace against your chest, the tips of her fingers dig into the thin fabric nearly piercing your skin. The material bunches in her fists as her breath caresses your cheek and neck.

“Meet me in my room.”

She runs her tongue along your cheek, shoot a spark of excitement up your spine; she giggles and disappears from the dining room. You give Cassandra and Bela each a kiss and a ‘I love you’ before you sprint toward the library. The last time you ran so fast was chasing after Angie, but this is far more thrilling. You barge through her bedroom door heavily panting to catch your breath. That was in vain because Daniela took it right back. She's laying on her bed smirking at you, she only has her cloak on with it perfectly draped over one of her legs and covering her core in between. She arches up to expose her breasts more, your mouth watering as you walk to the end of the bed. Everything is on fire inside you, your heart races while her eyes undress you.

You lean down to place a kiss against her extended leg, your hands traveling up her cold, smooth skin while basking her in kisses. Before you can reach above her thigh, her other foot presses into your chest and keeps you from advancing. You look her in the eyes and they gleam mischievously, you whimper softly as you're so close to her that her arousal wafted every fiber of your senses.

“You didn’t think it would be that easy did you? I’ve had nothing but myself and my thoughts for the last few months and my imagination can only do so much. We’re going to play a little game: first you’re going to go into the bathroom and get changed and also rinse off because you reek of Cassandra. Then, you’re going to come find me, and don’t worry I’ll stay out of my shroud to keep it fair.”

She disappears once again from sight and you look around the room before you groan loudly. When you enter the bathroom there's a folded towel, a fresh outfit, and a black box with a note on it. After a brisk shower, you approach the towel and lift it to dry yourself. As you do there's a clattering sound upon the counter that catches your attention. Your eyes widen upon seeing a strap attached to a pair of boxers. Instantly your face gets red but your heart picks up once more in excitement. The boxers are soft and snug, of course you have to strut around for a brief moment to adjust to something lengthy between your legs, and to boost your ego just a little.

The outfit is fairly standard, one of your bras, some black dress pants, a white button up, and matching shoes. They smell like Daniela, her scent drowning out any other smell present, and they feel brand new. When you run your hands over the front the material is silky on the outside but soft on the inside. The pants are tight and clearly show everything, including your new appendage. You eye the black box and pluck the note from the top.

“Wear this. If it’s too much you don’t have to, but I’ve been thinking about this since you came back. -love Dani.”

Below her signature is a dark, red, lipstick mark that makes you smile and fold the paper into your pocket. You swallow a gulp of saliva, knowing Daniela there could be anything in that box but you trust her. Carefully you lift the lid then push the tissue paper away to reveal a leather collar. It's a dark, tanned leather with a metal patch on the side sporting the words 'property of Daniela'. You hesitate at first, unsure of how you feel with it but ultimately decide to put it on proudly. The only buckle tightens and loosens the collar, and you make sure two fingers can fit underneath for the correct tightness. You briefly wonder what kind of fantasies Daniela has had, and how they involve you.

You start your hunt by exiting her room and into the library, you catch her scent fairly quickly and follow it outside. Daniela giggles as she leans against the wall while wearing her usual black dress again, and eyes you up and down. As you make your ways toward her, she hooks a finger in the leash loop of the collar and pulls it upward; forcing you to look up at her fully.

“Mother Miranda you look good, this is far better than I imagined.” She strokes your biceps with her other hand, “everything fit?” She asks.

“Yes.” You answer.

“Good.”

She slips one of her hands underneath the waistband of your pants and under the boxers to your core, her fingers tease your clit and make you inhale sharply. She leans in and nibbles at your jaw, and once you tilt your head to give her more room she sinks her teeth into the part of your neck not covered. Your moan catches in your throat as she simultaneously twists you around to pin you against the wall.

Her fingers continue to tease your clit until your legs open further and she shoves two fingers inside. She licks up the droplets of blood while fingering you, thrusting knuckle deep and her thumb goes to attacking your clit. Just as you close your eyes to accept the newest pleasure, she moves away, taking her fingers with her. You growl under your breath that she got you all hot and bothered, she only kisses your cheek then takes off running. After a second to gather what happened you run after her. Even when she isn’t in her swarm she's fast, she tries to shake you with turns and twists leaving you to barely keep her in your line of sight.

Your heart rate thunders from the cardio and from the excitement of the chase. She's hypnotic from the way her cloak and hair dances behind her from her speed. Her hood long since falling off. Because of this you didn’t notice your claws or fangs break free from their restraints, a sudden urge to descend on all fours to gain an advantage. Daniela rounds a corner moments before you, somehow she manages to dodge the maid, you did not and plummet right into her. Both of you roll together before separating and you instantly jump to your feet. It’s Lilla.

“Oh shit..I’m so sorry!” You start and help her back to her feet.

She brushes herself off then eyes you up and down curiously at your state; you probably do look a bit crazed wearing a collar, with your fangs and claws out. Now your entire face, including your ears and neck are blood red.

"It's fine my lady."

You tug at the collar and avoid looking at her nervously, but from the corner of your eye you can tell she's examining you. You cough into your hand before clearing your throat.

"Um..promise you won't say anything?" You choke out.

"I promise, so long as I never learn the details of what's happening right now between you and Lady Daniela." She replies.

“Thank you.” You whisper yell then turn on your heels to return to your hunt.

You lose Dani on the next corner because all you see is a long hallway with doors and paintings. With every muscle tensed you stalk down the hall quietly, you control your breathing and your heart rate to the best of your ability. You stop for a moment and listen to every sound around you. Then your ears perk at hearing her giggle. It's muffled and extremely quiet but close, you creep past each door and painting stopping near each one to listen. She really does have a hard time containing herself, her little buzzes of excitement give her away. You rip open the door to your right, and find her in what looks like a storage room with various furniture pieces covered in white sheets.

Before Daniela can react, you block the door with your body and shut it forcibly making the walls around it shutter. You stalk toward her, herding her back until she hits something. She bites her lip as you reach behind to yank the sheet off the furniture, to expose a table, and a very sturdy looking one at that. Perfect. You grab Daniela by the waist and turn her around before pinning her down on the table with her ass pressing into your hips. Your hands hold hers down, your claws scratching the wood to keep from tearing into her right then.

“Looks like I caught you.” You growl.

“Oh no…whatever shall I do?” She remarks lustfully with feigned worry, while simultaneously pressing her ass further on the bulge in your pants.

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t even fly properly.” You growl, your mouth salivating at her scent wafting up your nose.

“Please.” She begs.

Something animalistic overtaked you, your senses become heightened and your teeth ache to rip into her. With one hand still holding her down, you reach the other hand between your two bodies and lift her cloak and dress up to find she still isn’t wearing underwear. That turns you on further. Not wanting to ruin your pants, you unbutton and unzip them carefully to release the strap. She's dripping, and you use that to lube yourself up, coaxing between her lips and teasing her burning cunt. She let's out a guttural moan, pressing into you impatiently ; deciding not to wait any longer, you give her exactly what she wants. Your hips buck and the entire length sheaths inside her in one motion, she arches her back into your chest and moans loudly. She grabs onto your arms for support, her nails dig into your skin hard but not enough to break it.

The slapping of your hips against hers reverberates againstthe walls. The thrusts are hard enough to make the table groan and creak from the force. Daniela's knuckles turn white, her nails leaving indents in your skin but you continue to fuck her. With your free hand you lean over and slice open her clothing to reveal her back, you growl softly and stand back upright. With one hand you grip her scalp and yank her up, your other hand wraps around her throat. Her bare back molds to your chest, the only space being where her back is arched.

“Oh fuck..yes!” She moans.

A growl rumbles from your chest as you listen to the wet noises that come from her core. She pants heavily and continues to grind her hips against you which simultaneously rubs your clit just right. Daniela arches her back again and whimpers with pleasure as her body begins to tremble. Your claws sink into her neck with your tightening grip and you release her hair. Using that arm to hold her by her rib cage whilst her arms shoot up and lock behind your head. She gasps loudly and arches her back up and down as her orgasm hit, her legs shake and you brace in case her legs give out; you don't stop your thrusting just yet. When her breathing slows, you slow to a stop and back your hips up to let the strap plop out.

She groans from the sensation and you release her neck and unclench your claws. Before she can fully come down, you grab her hips and flip her around. You tear off the rest of her clothing and drool over her naked body in front of you. Daniela pulls you forward by your collar, and smashes her lips against yours, you kiss her back feverishly. Without breaking the kiss you lift her onto the table and onto her back. You break the kiss only to momentarily stand uprigt and bring her legs up until her knees almost touch her chest. Daniela wraps her hands around her thighs and holds her legs open for you. You line yourself back up with her entrance then proceed to fully thrust in again. Once you’ve established a set pace, you lean down with her thighs resting on your shoulders and capture her lips again.

She moans into your mouth. Your relentless thrusts make her open her mouth to moan, you slither your tongue into her mouth. She bites down gently and sucks on it, then lets her tongue roll with yours. You thrust upwards and her breasts bounce against your chest, her erect nipples brushing yours. Daniela frees your lips, a string of saliva connecting you two before she breaks it by leaning her head back. You bite down on her neck again, sucking and kneading the flesh until a bruise forms. Daniela’s moans vibrate with each thrust.

The strap still plays perfectly on your clit, a knot forms in your lower stomach again which makes you speed up your pumps. Daniela gasps and groans, your thrusts become harder and faster until you hear the wood of the table creak and snap. She giggles erratically and moans your name loudly when her body trembles all over. Your orgasm bursts and sends waves of heat over your body, your legs shake and hinder your thrusts momentarily. They start to slow as you both ride out your orgasms to a stop. Both of you pant heavily, sweat runs down your back and Daniela’s death grip on her thighs relaxes. You remove your teeth from her neck and watch it slowly heal itself before easing her legs down.

She moans softly from the sensation of the strap pulling out, she rests her head down on your shoulder to plant a kiss on your neck just above the collar. Her fingers tinker with it, gently moving it around so she can see the engraving then traces her fingers over your chest. You relax your weight on her, basking in her embrace and her smell as you bury your nose into the crevice of her neck and shoulder.

“That was far better than anything I imagined…and you look so sexy in this. I’d like to see you wear it with nothing on at all.” She purrs.

“I'd be happy to oblige. Only if you tell me more about these fantasies you've had.” You pant.

Daniela kisses your neck again, “mm maybe I will, after we get some fresh clothes on.”

She flies into her swarm and while you wait, you strip out of the pants and boxers. The heavy smell of sex lingers amongst the dusty air. She returns promptly with a fresh pair of underwear and pants for you, and she is in a back dress.

“Also, you owe me a new cloak. That was my only one.” She teases as you change.

You walk out of the storage room and are greeted with another maid who eyes the two of you but she quickly gives a smile and a wave. It's one of the same maids that you saw this morning with Cassandra; you'll have to ask her name another time. Daniela links her arm with yours, and purrs while leading you back toward the library. She gets the toy, your collar, and the clothes put away before forcing you to sit on a couch. Then she lays across your lap and snuggles up with her hand tracing patterns on your leg.

Continue Reading

[m-r-nicely]

Rude Awakening

Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Word Count: 771

Chapter Summary: Everyone is having a nice nap, and a talking doll decides to test fate by testing if it can awaken chaos incarnate. Will it work?

_______________

If she was fully honest, Bela did not want to leave her human friend. Not to mention, there were still questions she had yet to get the answers to. The two had come to a state of silently understanding the other in the setting of Seraphine's home. With the woman having somewhat successfully taught the vampire how to make the fearsome Bela Dimitrescu's new favorite food: Blood Glazed Profiterole. At first Seraphine wondered why she wanted to learn to make the puff pastries, but she realized Bela was worried if she would ever get a chance to see the woman again, or if some tragedy would take the life of her new favorite human before their next meeting. She wanted an excuse to either spend more time with Seraphine or have something to remember her by. If Bela chose to remember her with her favorite dessert, then so be it.

Eventually, the time did come for Seraphine to see Bela off. It was still rather cool out on that afternoon. Bela wanted to stay until the weather was warmer, but she knew the human could see she really just wanted more time with Seraphine herself. Due to this, none of her ideas worked.

It was too cold? Bela was handed an extra, albeit short, fur cloak. She doesn't know the way? Worry not, for Seraphine has many maps. She would get hungry on her way home? Bela was offered a chance to feed shortly before leaving with a basket full of profiterole for the journey.

"You cannot seem to be rid of me soon enough," Bela joked.

Seraphine looked at Bela and the vampire could once again see that unidentifiable emotion. Except now it was stronger. When Bela heard Seraphine speak, she knew exactly what the emotion was, and why it was growing. Why she was pushing Bela away.

"I just think your family have thought you dead long enough," her words were sincere and caring, but they were delivered with an apathetic and empty voice.

How she achieved such juxtapositions will forever be lost on the eldest Dimitrescu.

Bela saw it, and now she heard it. Her heart hurt for her friend. What Bela saw hidden in those captivating chartreuse eyes was loneliness. Everyone good who had come into Seraphine's life had left, in one way or another, and now Bela was doing it too. Seraphine was too caring to ask Bela to forget about going back home. To stay. So, she was pushing her away instead.

The doors to the library open and Angie waddles in. She completely ignores the two sleeping women and addresses Bela.

"Hey blondie!" the doll said very, very loudly.

Daniela sat up at the sudden noise and looked around for the source. Bela put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention and tilted her head in Angie's direction. The doll waved to the younger sister, who promptly waved back after pivoting in her seat, and made its way to the sofa the women were sat upon. She holds her hands up like a toddler, or like when Seraphine wants to ride on Bela's back, to make it clear she wants to join them on the couch. Daniela lifts the doll thinking she would peacefully sit on the couch with them. That was proven incorrect when Angie wriggled out of Daniela's hold and, with chaos in mind, all but tackled the sleeping Seraphine to the floor.

"Angie!" The sisters yelled. One in surprise and the other in frustration. Both in fear.

Seraphine is awful to deal with if she is, quite literally in this case, rudely awakened.

Speak of the devil, and he doth appear.

Daniela and Bela both brace for the incoming onslaught of absolute attitude. Even the village's Goddess has found herself cowering at the fury that will inevitably be faced if those gentle chartreuse eyes open too soon.

"Mother Miranda wouldn't dare cross you, sleeping beauty," Lord Heisenberg once said. Nobody truly knows what happened, but if Karl ever has any more remarks about her attitude, he keeps them to himself.

The library is deathly silent. Even the sisters' flies are stilled from their usual humming buzz. Nobody dares to move. Yet all things must come to an end, but it would seem fortune is on their side. The one who would be destined to be first to fall victim to Seraphine happened to be the one person who did not care about the attitude. Someone who had a heart big enough to understand the frustration and the only person who has ever extinguished the flame that makes chartreuse burn.

[emergencydental220]

Achieving A Perfect Smile: Invisalign Options In Miranda

Achieving a perfect smile often requires more than just good oral hygiene—it may involve orthodontic treatment to correct misalignments and improve your bite. Invisalign is a popular choice for many looking for a discreet and effective way to straighten their teeth. This article explores Invisalign options in Miranda, highlighting what you need to know about this innovative orthodontic solution.

What is Invisalign?

Invisalign is a modern orthodontic treatment that uses a series of clear, custom-made aligners to gradually straighten teeth. Unlike traditional metal braces, Invisalign aligners are virtually invisible and can be removed for eating and cleaning. Here’s why Invisalign is a popular choice:

Discreet Appearance

Invisalign aligners are made from clear plastic, making them less noticeable than traditional braces. This discreet appearance is ideal for adults and teens who want to improve their smile without drawing attention to their orthodontic treatment.

Comfort and Convenience

The aligners are custom-made to fit your teeth comfortably. They don’t have the wires and brackets associated with traditional braces, which can cause irritation. Additionally, you can remove the aligners for eating and oral hygiene, making them a convenient option.

Predictable Results

Invisalign treatment uses advanced technology to map out the entire treatment process. You’ll be able to see a digital preview of your final results before you even begin, giving you a clear idea of the expected outcome.

Tips for Choosing an Invisalign Provider

When selecting an Invisalign provider in Miranda, consider the following tips to ensure a successful treatment:

1. Check Qualifications and Experience

Ensure that the provider is a certified Invisalign provider with experience in delivering successful treatments. Look for their credentials and ask about their track record with Invisalign.

2. Consultation and Treatment Plan

Schedule a consultation to discuss your orthodontic needs and goals. A good provider will offer a detailed treatment plan and explain the process, including the estimated duration and expected results.

3. Read Reviews and Testimonials

Patient reviews and testimonials can provide valuable insights into the quality of care and results you can expect. Look for feedback on the provider’s professionalism, communication, and overall patient satisfaction.

4. Compare Costs and Payment Plans

Invisalign treatment can be a significant investment. Compare costs and inquire about payment plans or financing options to ensure that the treatment fits your budget.

5. Consider Aftercare and Support

Inquire about aftercare and support during and after the treatment. A good provider will offer guidance on maintaining your results and addressing any concerns that may arise.

Conclusion

Invisalign offers a discreet and effective solution for achieving a perfect smile, and Miranda has several top providers that can help you reach your orthodontic goals. By choosing a qualified provider with experience in Invisalign treatment, you can enjoy a comfortable and predictable journey to a straighter smile. Consider factors such as qualifications, patient reviews, and treatment plans when selecting an Invisalign provider, and take the first step towards a confident, beautiful smile.

[residentevil-simp]

Village of Shadows 1.

IMPORTANT NOTICE: All of my works have been reposted from my old tumbr blog @strawbbs-jpg

next >

summary: A stranger enters the Village in search of his kidnapped daughter. 

»»————-　✼　————-««

The weak wooden door slammed and cracked against it’s frame as the howling wind continuously battered it. Your back was pressed against the splintery walls of house, gun aimed alertly at the door, ready to fire at even the slightest hint of danger. The chance of surviving a Lycan attack was impossibly low. Everyday more and more villagers were picked off by the savages, ripped up and torn to shreds. The snowy paths through the village were forever stained with the thick, crimson blood of the fallen. You sat quiet and alert. The roars of Lycans was slowly becoming more distant as they stormed further through the village. Cautiously, you moved towards the frost window of the cabin and peeked you r head up to check if it was clear. After a few minute with no movement or roars, you leave the cabin. The piercing cold wind immediately smacked your cheeks and you gasped in shock. With your shotgun clutched close against your chest, you trudged forward through the snow.

There was no point going back to your old house. It had been destroyed. The windows shattered and the walls torn to shreds. Everything you had was snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. The only chance you had left was at Luiza’s house. Through every attack, Luiza had been there, selflessly offering up her home to protect the rest of the village. Oh Mother Miranda, how could you be so cruel? As you made your way closer to Luiza’s house, a thick cloud of smoke caught your eye. Your pace quickens as your concern grows. Once you got closer you saw the devastation. Luiza’s house was up in flames. Flickering red and orange flames soared high up in the air, standing out violently against the heavy greys of the village. The ashy air stung your eyes, causing you to cough and wheeze. You backed away slowly, your bottom lip trembling as you held back tears. Were you all that was left? Everybody in the village went to Luiza’s house.

Everybody was dead.

You felt sick. Your despair slowly turned to wrath. How could Mother Miranda do such a thing? All of the sacrifices we have made. The goats, the people, was it never enough? On one day it was the Lycans taking people, on another it was the Dimitrescu’s. Maiden women were snatched away and murdered in a sick practice to make wine. Men were slaughtered with no remorse. No one could escape the wrath of the four lords. The fire continued to burn for what felt like hours, but was merely a few short minutes. The weight of the entire village was on your shoulders. As the only survivor, you had to get vengeance. Even if it cost you your life.

The blasting sound of gunshots suddenly rang out through the village. One. Then two. Then many more. You quickly braced your gun, sprinting towards where the sounds came from. The roars of Lycans became louder and louder, ringing painfully against your eardrums. As you made it towards the village center, what you saw shocked you. A strange looking man was stood in the middle, fighting off a hoard of Lycans all by himself, shooting them down one by one. You stayed hidden behind a crumbling concrete pillar, peering out to watch him fight. He was an outsider. This village never got visitors, but even when it did, they survived no longer than a day. The man pulled the trigger once more but no shot came out.

“Shit!” he cursed. The man quickly pulled out a knife to defend himself against the quickly approaching Lycan, which dashed from side to side. Just as he was about to attack the Lycan, the Lycan pounced. It knocked him against the dense snowy ground with a painful thud. The roars of the Lycan were painfully loud as it drooled and snarled before sinking its teeth deep into the mans hand, who screamed in pain. Without thinking, you ran out of your hiding spot and aimed your shotgun before firing it. The bullet was sent straight into the back of the Lycan which released its grip on the poor man. It’s attention was turned to you. It growled and began sprinting towards you at a rampant pace. Aiming your gun once again, you pulled the trigger and the head of the Lycan was blown into smithereens. You quickly reloaded your shotgun and cleared up the few remaining Lycans, leaving corpses and blood splatters littered across the snowy ground.

You caught your breath with a few deep, rigid breaths before slinging the shotgun across your shoulder. The man slowly sat up, clutching his damage arm in his hand, with blood seeping down and staining his sage green jacket. With caution, you approached the man. Even if he was a treat, his right arm was unusable.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” You questioned. He shook his head no. “This village is dangerous,” you warned, “you need to get out of here as soon as you can.”

“That’s not going to happen,” the man said stubbornly. You glowered and crouched down in front of him and stared him in the eyes.

“I don’t think you understand.”

“No,” he said bluntly. “I don’t think you understand. They have my daughter, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do to get her back.” His fervor took you back and you leaned away, relaxing your face. You felt the same. If there was anything you could do to avenge your village, you would. Even if that meant fighting Mother Miranda with your bare hands.

“I’ll help you. I know the village better than you do. Everyone else is gone,” you explained solemnly. “You’re going to need all the help you can get.” The man contemplates your offer, silently weighing up his options. After a few moments, he nodded. You offered up your hand, which he accepted with his non-injured one and pulled himself up off the ground.

“I’m Ethan. Ethan Winters,” he introduced himself.

“[___]” you replied.

[alcinadimitrescuwu]

This Woman's Work Part IX (Alcina x Female Reader Fanfic)

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII

“You’re almost there, Maman. You’re doing great. Just a couple more steps.”

You take a deep breath in through your nose and blow it out through your mouth and push forward at your daughter’s coaxing, your arms gripping the railing that had been set up in your bedroom. The wound in your side is in agony but you take another step, biting the inside of your cheek hard to keep from crying out in pain.

It has been three weeks since that horrible night. You had already lost a lot of blood by the time Karl and Alcina arrived at Donna’s place. In an incredible stroke of luck, Donna had surgical thread in her sewing kit and at Salvatore’s instructions (he was having one of his good days) sewed up the place where Alcina’s claws had torn through. You were in and out of consciousness, but every time you opened your eyes Alcina was there by your side holding your hand.

Alcina is sitting nearby in her chair now, gently burping Ecaterina after her feeding. She looks up at you and you see concern in her golden eyes and another emotion that has been a mainstay for the past couple weeks: guilt.

Things had been...awkward between the two of you since that night. No matter how many times you assured her that all was well and you had forgiven her, she refused to forgive herself. You had only been intimate one time since that night and it ended quickly after Alcina had forgotten about the wound in your side as she cupped your hip and you couldn’t hold back the scream of pain that came out of your mouth. Alcina had immediately gotten out of the bed and as far away from you as she could, as if afraid touching you would cause any more damage.

She had sunk into the chair and began sobbing brokenly. You had wished to go to her, but your Bath chair was already on the other side of the room. You braced yourself against one of the bedposts as you said gently, “Darling, it was an accident. The pain’s already subsiding. Please come back to bed.”

Alcina covered her face with her hands, but you could see the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t even make love to my wife without causing her pain. What kind of wife does that make me?” The raw self-hatred in her voice broke your heart.

From that point on whenever you had settled down for the night, Alcina kissed your forehead and turned out the light and that was the end of it. She kept to her own side of the bed and you greatly missed the feeling of her muscular arms about you with your shoulder tucked under her chin, her curls kissing your cheekbones.You had the sense that if you tried to move closer she would move away so you didn’t even try.

You try to take another step and suddenly the room spins around you and you fall forward. Daniela, however, quickly grabs your arm and puts her arm around your shoulder before you hit the ground.

“I think that should be enough for today, Maman,” Bela says soothingly.

You set your jaw. You only have three more steps to go before you clear the railing. “No, girls, I can keep going.” But your ragged breathing and forehead shining with sweat give you away. You push your tongue to the inside of your cheek and taste coppery blood from where you had bitten into it.

Cassandra rolls your Bath chair over to you. “Maman, you don’t need to push yourself so hard. You’re not gonna be of any use to Ecaterina if you run yourself ragged.”

You smile at Cassandra’s brutal honesty as she helps you into your Bath chair. “You’re right, dearest.”

Alcina stands up, having finished burping Ecaterina. She looks affectionately over at her daughters taking care of you and you see one of the first genuine smiles from her that you’ve seen in weeks. “You’ve been so good to Maman these past few weeks, dears. She and I really appreciate all the help you’ve given to us and Ecaterina.” She rests the hand not holding Ecaterina on the back of your chair and you take her hand in yours, kissing her knuckles. Surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away this time. “It’s time for us to put Ecaterina down for her nap and for me to change Maman’s bandages. If you’ll excuse us, loves.”

The girls nod in agreement and vanish into their bug shrouds. Alcina turns around and settles Ecaterina into her cradle. Ecaterina gurgles, her eyes mirroring the gold in Alcina’s. Alcina gives her a tender kiss on the forehead before turning to you. She motions for you to stand up and you obey as she kneels down to your level and helps you take off your day dress. Standing there in your slip with her hands on you reminds you of how long it has been since you have last felt her touch.

Alcina lifts up your slip ever so lightly and peels off the gauze bandage wrapped around your waist. Alcina sets her jaw as she uncovers the gashes she herself had inflicted on you. She takes off her gloves, dips the pad of her thumb in a jar of salve and applies it to your wounds. There is an unreadable expression on her face.

You try to give her an encouraging smile. “I talked to Sal the other day,” you posit. “He says that even though the wound is deep,if I don’t expose it to too much sunlight it won’t leave a scar!”

“Not a physical one at least,” Alcina mutters.

Ok. You’ve had enough. You turn her head to face you. “Darling, we’ve been over this,” you say, rubbing her cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. “Are you going to keep punishing yourself forever?”

Almost despite herself, Alcina leans into your touch and interlaces her large fingers with yours. “I can’t imagine how much physical pain you must be in, my love,” Alcina whispers. “And all by my hand.” Tears begin forming in Alcina’s aureate eyes. “I nearly killed you.”

“You didn’t though, Alcina!” You move over to her lap and she gently almost tentatively wraps her arms around you and holds you close. You lean your head against her chest and resist the urge to sigh. It’s been so long since you’ve been held by your wife. “I know you were under Miranda’s control but something held you back from killing me outright. I know it.”

“You don’t know what it’s like being under someone else’s control.” You can almost feel Alcina’s body shudder as she recalls that night. “It was like I was outside my body watching myself. I was screaming at myself to stop when I kissed that woman.” The memory of your wife kissing Mother Miranda so passionately pops into your mind briefly but you shut it out as she goes on. “And when I stabbed you, I-” Her voice cracks. “I was practically begging myself to stop but my body just moved on its own.”

“Don’t you see, then, darling?” you ask. “You weren’t yourself when you were under Mother Miranda’s control. The person that kissed Mother Miranda, the person that stabbed me, that wasn’t you, so please.” You cradle Alcina’s face in your hands and stare into those beautiful discs of gold. “Please stop blaming yourself for this. Mother Miranda is dead. I’m alive. Our daughter is safe and healthy. That’s what matters now.”

Alcina kisses your forehead lovingly. “When did you get so wise?” she asks, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. You can see that you’ve finally gotten through to her. Her body posture is more relaxed, her jaw is loose, and her shoulders aren’t so tight. She carefully places the new bandage over your wound and you feel a pleasant tingle as you feel her bare fingers brush briefly over your tender skin.

She moves to pull your slip over your new bandage but you take her wrist before she can withdraw it. You hold her gaze as you take the strap of your slip off your shoulder and your slip coils in a pool of silk around your ankles. She takes you in her arms and brushes her lips against yours briefly. When she pulls aways, you see the same desire in her eyes. “Are you quite sure, ingeras?” Alcina asks, brushing the back of her knuckles against your cheekbones.

“Yes” you rasp. “Take me to the bed.”

Alcina picks you up as you wrap your legs around her waist, taking care not to touch your sensitive wound and carries you over to the bed. She gently, almost reverently lays you down on the bed. She lowers herself down to kiss you again and you bury your fingers in her curls. Alcina deepens the kiss, her tongue coaxing your mouth open as you unfasten the pearl buttons on the back of her dress. “I’ll go slow for you, draga,” Alcina murmurs against your lips.

“Alright, let’s see how our little patient is doing today- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK?”

It seems like Heisenberg has decided to check up on you today.

With a frustrated growl Alcina moves quickly in front of you while holding her own dress up. “Yes, Heisenberg, that is in fact what we were setting out to do before you arrived.” Alcina shakes her head at him derisively. “You seem to have impeccably bad timing, as always.”

Heisenberg’s face is beet red again, you note with amusement. “Well, excuse me for trying to check in on my sister-in-law and my goddaughter! Speaking of which, really Alcina? Getting down and dirty with the kid in the room?”

Alcina’s cheeks are also sporting a lovely red color. “Ecaterina was asleep.” Amidst all the commotion, Ecaterina has already woken up and is crying. “Well, she was until you came in.”

The girls suddenly materialize into the room. “Mother!” Cassandra chirps. “I thought I heard Uncle Karl in here and- JESUS CHRIST! What the FUCK!”

Alcina covers her face with her hands. Bela takes the book that Daniela is holding and holds it so it’s covering the image of you and your wife on the bed. “Really Mother,” Bela tuts to herself.

Daniela doesn’t seem to mind. She turns to the two of you, unperturbed by the state of your undress and asks, “Can Uncle Karl stay for dinner, Mother, Maman? Please? It’s been so long since we’ve all had dinner together!”

You smile indulgently at her over Alcina’s shoulder. “Of course he can, darling,” you say.

“Fine,” Alcina mutters. "Now if you please, will all of you kindly get out of our room?”

The daughters vanish into the bug shrouds, chattering excitedly about what Cook is making for dinner. Heisenberg leaves too, chuckling softly to himself.

You turn to your blushing bride and give her a chaste kiss on the lips before you both get dressed and join your daughters for dinner.

Together. As a family.

[mirandadental]

Clear Braces Sydney By Miranda Dental Centre

Clear Braces Sydney

Dr. Abhay Kohli at Miranda Dental Centre Sydney is a professionally qualified General Dentist (who has done a comprehensive postgraduate course in Orthodontics and Implantology) in Miranda nearby Sutherland Shire, Sydney Metro, offering the latest technology in orthodontics, including Invisalign, Clear braces, aligners and other orthodontic services in Sydney.

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Orthodontic movement of teeth through conventional braces is often an undesirable option to many patients, especially adults. Clear aligners technology uses translucent trays called “aligners” that gradually move the teeth into proper alignment while not compromising patient esthetics throughout the treatment.

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Requires brackets and wires

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Many food restrictions

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Our office is fully equipped with the latest technology and devices to provide our patients with the most advanced Clear braces in Sydney. Cutting-edge technology at Miranda Dental Centre Sydney includes digital x-rays, intraoral cameras, quiet electronic drills, dental lasers for in-chair whitening procedures, modern equipment for implant dentistry, components, the latest technology of veneers (same day veneer treatment). Please mention any other equipment’s. Our facility is continually advancing as our dentists frequently attend and participate in continuing educations courses and seminars across the country.

[clareguilty]

A Tainted Rescue Part 2

hello! i cannot escape my own terrible ideas! Have more Heisenberg porn! Karl Heisenberg/Maiden Rating: Explicit | WARNING: dark content, explicit smut, big sexy evil guy doing bad things Word Count: ~2500

Lord Heisenberg lifted the maiden into his carriage and pulled her onto his lap as the mechanical horse took off away from the castle. She shook and cried in his arms, whimpering with every rattle of the wheels on the unpaved path to the Lord's domain.

"You're safe now," he promised her. "I'm going to take good care of you."

She clung to him, face buried in his chest as he ran his hand up and down her back in a slow, steady rhythm. Her breathing began to even out and her sobs turned to sporadic hiccups the farther they traveled from that horrid castle.

Lord Heisenberg was extremely proud of himself. He had managed to pull one over on Alcina all while getting a delightful new toy to play with. She was so precious, so perfect. He would have to make sure to spoil her rotten.

Just outside of the factory grounds, covered in overgrown plants, a small stone staircase led up to Lord Heisenberg’s house. He helped the maiden up the worn steps, holding branches out of the way as they ducked through the overgrowth. 

“I never actually use this place,” he explained. “I spend most of my time in the factory. But that’s no place for you. Now I finally have someone to come home to.” He kissed her knuckles as he led her across the threshold.

The lights were electric, and they turned on at a wave of the Lord’s hand. He chuckled at the maiden's awestruck expression.

The house was a mess, dusty and cluttered. It must have been months since the Lord actually stayed there. Narrow and tucked into the hillside, the two story was smaller than Lady Beneviento’s villa but still larger than almost any of the houses of the village. 

“Heh,” he laughed wryly. “Looks like this place needs a lot of work.”

He led the maiden up the stairs and to the main chamber. The room was sparsely furnished with just a low double bed, a wardrobe, and a writing desk piled high with books and papers and the same scrap metal that seemed to appear throughout the Lord’s domain. It was nothing like the opulent and immaculate rooms of the castle.

The maiden let Lord Heisenberg push her to a seat on the bed. He knelt in front of her, squeezing her jaw in one hand and forcing her to look him in the eyes. 

“I may not be as fucked as my witch of a sister, but let me make one thing clear. I am not above killing you. You will stay out of my factory. Understand?”

The maiden whimpered, tears once again threatening to spill over her cheeks. “Yes, My Lord.”

He released her jaw and patted her cheek lightly. “Good girl.” He shucked off his coat and draped it over the back of the desk chair. His hat and glasses were quick to follow. He sat beside her on the bed and unlaced his boots.

The maiden removed her own shoes -- the only things she wore that were intact. Her stockings were shredded, as were her skirts. She didn’t even have any drawers on anymore. The front of her dress was ripped down to her stomach, and she tugged the fabric over her shoulders and out from under her until it fell in a puddle on the floor. She was naked and bruised and marked. She felt filthy, used, ruined. But that was what the Lord said was needed to save her. If he hadn’t done what he had, she would be dead at the hands of the Mistress.

The Lord must have seen her numbness, her distress, because he pulled her into his chest and smoothed a hand over her hair. “Hey now,” he whispered. “She can’t touch you here. I’d like to see her try.” He sounded as if he would welcome the fight. “Let me make you feel good.”

He laid the maiden on her back and nudged her thighs apart so he could kneel between her legs. The sight of the damage he had done at the castle brought a smile to his face, and he pressed his fingers into the bruises that were blooming across her thighs.

With no preamble, he pressed two fingers inside of her, crooking them and stretching her open. The maiden whined and gripped the linens with white knuckles. The Lord was only spurred on by her reaction and added a third finger. He loved the way she tightened around him, and longed to feel it on his cock again.

Despite her inexperience, it was no time at all before she was dripping just from the motions of his fingers. He made sure to bring her right to the brink of pleasure, holding her just on that precipice as he pulled his cock from his pants and lined himself up.

He pressed into her slowly, lifting her hips to meet his and bracing himself over her on the bed. She was trapped beneath him, nearly bent in half as his cock split her open once more. It felt even deeper than before, and she couldn’t hold back her high, breathy whines as he began to move. He moaned as he drove his cock into her harder and harder on each stroke.

“You feel amazing. So soft. So tight. You’re all mine. Just for me.”

“All yours,” the maiden repeated. “Just for you.”

“Oh, you’re so perfect,” he groaned. “She didn’t deserve you. She could never have made you feel like this. Come for me. Come on my cock.”

He reached between them to rub her clit, determined to watch her eyes flutter shut and the moans that tumbled from her lips as she came undone around him.

And it was spectacular. She was so precious. To think she had never known pleasure like this before. He was going to be everything for her. Her saviour. Her king.

She clung to him as she came, shuddering and gasping as he forced her through the blinding orgasm. He continued to fuck her, determined to find his own end as well, but he noticed she was barely responsive. Poor thing, probably passed out from the pleasure.

The Lord didn’t let that stop him as he buried himself inside of her to the hilt. He loved watching his cock sink into her, splitting her open and twitching inside of her. He came to the sight of it, filling her as deeply as possible and rocking his hips as she tightened around him once more. Even unconscious, he was able to make her feel good.

Finally satisfied with his claim, he pulled out and arranged the maiden to lay beside him. “You need your rest. Tomorrow I’ll figure out what to do with you.”

-

Life with Lord Heisenberg was nothing like serving at Castle Dimitrescu. The Lord was crass and informal, just as quick tempered as his ‘sister’ but never directed at the maiden.

No. The maiden was given special privileges. She was his prized possession, swiped right out from under Alcina’s claws, and he loved to spoil her and dote on her.

He had never had a pet like her before. All of his own creations and gifts from Mother Miranda were mindless and bloodthirsty and horrific. But the maiden, she was beautiful and sweet. She was so devoted to him, her savior. He had freed her, given her everything, and now she lived to serve him.

Her new life was one of endless pleasure and indulgence. The Lord fucked her and filled her and marked her as his own. He loved to ruin her, to claim her. She was so precious, trapped in that castle and hidden away from the world. He wanted to show her every filthy experience she had missed.

She fit so perfectly around his cock, so warm and tight and responsive. He enjoyed her moans and gasps of pleasure just as much as he enjoyed finishing inside her.

He didn’t know he was capable of such softness. He was rough when he fucked her, sure to bite her and mark her. Bruising handprints blooming over her skin after he took her to bed. But he was also gentle with her at times. Praise and thanks and kisses to her hairline. There was a different kind of satisfaction to seeing her smile.

-

The maiden bowed her head as she offered Lord Heisenberg a glass of whiskey late one evening. He had been away at the factory for much of the previous days occupied by his work. The drink was a warm welcome. “Thank you, buttercup,” he pulled her into his lap. “I have something for you.”

He took a gulp from the glass before setting it aside and fishing around in his pockets.

“Aha! Here!” He procured two thick shining bands in his palms. They looked small in his grasp but were still a few inches in diameter.

The Lord grabbed the maiden’s hands. The metal rings levitated before closing around her wrists, fastening as though they were soldered together.

“They’re beautiful,” she breathed, twisting her wrists this way and that to admire the jewelry. “Thank you, My Lord.”

“Now everyone will know who you belong to,” he trailed kisses from her temple to her jaw.

The maiden giggled. “I don’t think there was any doubt of that before.” She was constantly covered in his marks, in his come. He loved to claim her as his in every possible way.

He would fill her until his seed was dripping down her thighs, smeared over her chest and her lips. Make her come until the only thing she knew was his name. He had found all her limits and he knew just how to push past them.

And now he had his steel on her.

She nuzzled against his chest, overwhelmed by the gift. No one at that wretched castle had ever shown her such kindness. Her lips peppered the skin where his shirt was unbuttoned, hands wandering over his chest and arms. She was still so uncertain about her desires. Alcina had certainly done a good job of brainwashing her.

But he had his own conditioning to do. So he whispered encouragement as she slipped between his knees and unfastened his belt. She was flushed and uncoordinated as she pulled his cock free from his pants. “Thank you,” she whispered again before wrapping her lips around him.

She was a good cocksucker, an eager learner and quick to respond to him. She had very quickly grown addicted to him, and he lived for it. Every time he would return from the depths of the factory, she was there craving his attention and his touch.

Now she was even more desperate. He had neglected her in favor of his work, and he regretted it when he saw how uncertain she had become. He would have to train her to handle his long absences. He certainly couldn’t trust anyone to watch over her while he was gone. She was too precious, they would corrupt her. Still, he enjoyed how she couldn’t seem to get enough of him, how dependent she was.

Lord Heisenberg relaxed and sipped his whiskey as she stroked and sucked his cock. He felt so powerful with the maiden on her knees before him. It made him crave more.

After several minutes, when his cock was shining from her lips and she was glassy eyed with lust between his knees, he cradled her head in one of his hands and pulled her onto his cock as deep as she could go. She submitted willingly, moaning at the way his fingers dug into her scalp.

He fucked her face, rough and deep, admiring the way tears spilled over her cheeks and spit dripped down her chin. Her obedience only turned him on more, and he came with a groan, pulling out before he could spill everything down her throat.

She was a filthy mess, come and spit smeared over her swollen lips. She cleaned his cock and blinked up at him expectantly.

“That’s a good girl.” He smiled as she melted at his words. One of her own hands had slipped beneath her skirts and she rocked down against it with a breathy moan. “Needy little thing, aren’t you? Can you wait for me? I promise I’ll give you a treat soon.”

The maiden immediately did as she was told, pulling her slick fingertips from beneath her dress.

“What do you say we wash up and call it a night?” He pulled her to her feet, leading her upstairs to the washroom.

The maiden had been delighted to find that the enormous bath upstairs -- though still smaller that Mistress Dimitrescu’s -- had taps that would run the water directly into the tub. A device of the Lord’s own creation heated the water along the way so that it steamed as it splashed into the porcelain basin. The maiden undressed the Lord with enthusiastic reverence, running her hands over his skin as she pulled his shirt from his broad shoulders. He slipped into the steaming water and sighed.

The maiden slipped out of her own clothes and climbed in as well. She lathered soap in her hands and set to work washing them both, massaging the tension from his muscles with her skilled fingers. What more could he possibly ask for?

He could tell how needy she was as she rinsed them clean. Her breaths were quick and short, skin flushed all the way down her chest and up to her ears. If they hadn’t already been in the water he was sure she would be dripping with arousal.

The Lord was tempted to try out his his new trick, but he wanted to wait for the perfect time. So instead he teased the poor girl with his fingers. She slumped against him, begging and pleading as he gave her everything just shy of what she needed.

He pulled her from the tub, drying both of them just enough before dragging her to bed. Laying back and pulling her on top of him, he grabbed her hips and ground her pussy against his length. 

“Please,” she gasped. She looked so cute, begging for his cock. He lined himself up and pulled her all the way down until her hips met his. The shock of being filled so suddenly, stretched around him, made her scream.

He lifted her easily, using her like a doll for his pleasure. She slumped forward over his chest as he moved her hips however he liked. Her broken gasps and moans of pleasure were like music to his ears. He wanted to break her, to see her totally undone by his hand.

She came around his cock twice before he finally pulled her all the way onto him and pumped her full. Even though his body was exhausted from his orgasm, he wasn’t yet sated. Some strange desire still pulled at him. He had already gifted her with the bracelets he had yet to use, but maybe there were other toys to be made in his workshop.

She would be perfect for him.

[tales-unique]

FAITH, LOST  III

I gave myself a small case of blue balls with this chapter, I apologize! It gets a little, ahem, spicy. ❤️

Edit: @chelseareferenced forgot to tag my boo! Sorry love!

Chapter 3

Lords grant you mercy you were going to kill him if he didn’t let you out. Heisenberg had, quite quickly, established a set of ground rules that you were to adhere to at all times when in the Factory, the most notable being that you weren’t to leave the upper floors without him under any circumstances. This, of course, left you alone for the majority of your time there since he never allowed you to aid him in his work.

You’ll just get in my way — he’d sneer at you, patting your head in a condescending manner. Not to mention the Lycans have a preference for young, supple devotees — he would tease you, wiggling his gloved fingers at you from inside in the elevator, chuckling to himself as he descended into the bowels of the factory to continue his projects. You had no idea what he was creating down there, but you knew that it often didn’t work out as planned from the way he’d fume when he returned. Once again you have been left to your own devices, only this time you have a way to alleviate at least some of your boredom. With a huff of effort you slide to the floor and crawl over to an old vent duct in the wall. It had caught your attention one night when the echoing of his voice through the shaft had woken you up, realizing that one of his work rooms below you was connected to yours via this duct. Though it provided you with minimal entertainment, it did give you insight to the type of work he did. Experiments; this was where he made the Lycans and the other twisted creatures that roamed his Factory. One night, against your better judgement, you had read an extract from an open journal on his desk when trying to make yourself useful. It mentioned something called Soldats and an army he was trying to create. You were lucky that you had moved away from it to straighten his sheets, otherwise he would have caught you red handed. Not that he was happy to have you in his space at all. “Fuck!” The loud cursing pulls you back to reality and you peer down the shaft expectantly, gripping the grate that covers it as you listen to Heisenberg rant about his latest creation being a failure. He had a tendency to speak out loud, likely recording his findings. The echo of his boots thudding against the metal floor betrays his movements and you follow it along the floor until you can’t hear it anymore. It means one of two things; either he’s leaving the Factory altogether or he’s coming back up. Quickly, you get to your feet and smooth down your clothes; a pair of simple trousers and a tunic top. You’d managed to scrounge up the modest outfit with the help of the ever amicable and charming Duke after a rather abrupt introduction from Heisenberg. Begrudgingly he allowed you to pick whatever you deemed necessary, and even a few luxuries like a fancy hand mirror, even though he complained that you were going to bankrupt him. It didn’t stop him lingering nearby, supervising the exchange through the puffs of cigar smoke. It was on your return to the upper levels, Heisenberg fancying the stairs instead of the elevator this time, that you’d properly come into contact with the Lycans. You weren’t sure what possessed him to give you a glimpse of inner workings of his Factory. Maybe it was another cheap shot at frightening you, or maybe it was pride that drove him to parade his creations before you. Needless to say, they did scare you. The lower reaches of the Factory was their domain and as you followed Heisenberg closely, his one clear instruction, you couldn’t help but feel their eyes watching you from afar. They snarled and growled and howled at your intrusion, sniffing the air curiously. It was rare for their Master to bring something new to their den and not let them tear it limb from limb. You were quick to beg him to take you back to the relative safety of the upper floors, which he did so with immense satisfaction and shit-eating grin on his face. The sound of the elevator dings and you come to stand in the doorway, watching him stalk out as soon as the gate opens, muttering heatedly to himself. In typical Heisenberg fashion he stalks right past you and into his office without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment. Clearly someone was having a bad day. Steeling yourself, you pad gently to his office door and find that he’s left it open for once. A good sign. Usually if his mood is dangerously sour the door is slammed shut and you avoid him like the plague until he makes himself known, but that isn’t necessary this time. “Is everything alright?” You ask from the threshold, careful not to enter until you’re invited. Like the ever faithful woman you are you try to serve him as best you can, even if he does make it very difficult at times. Heisenberg sits in his metal chair, leaning back. His stance is exasperated, but the tight grip on the shot of liquor in his hand is angry. His hat and coat have been discarded on his bed, his glasses sit on the desk, and you see blood on his knuckles. Upon closer inspection you see the trails of splatter on his exposed forearms, his shirt sleeves having been rolled up while he was working no doubt. “Yeah,” he breathes, raising the glass in a mock toast, “I’m just dandy.” He is definitely not dandy. Toying with the prospect of overstepping the mark or remaining respectful to his status, you rock on the balls of your feet. On one hand he always seemed so annoyed when you’d remind him that you were there to serve him, as Mother Miranda had instructed, but on the other he often chastised you if you tried to take the initiative; frankly, the constant push and pull drove you mad. “Heisenberg,” you chide quietly, approaching him cautiously. He hated it when you called him my Lord, or even sir, heatedly telling you to just call him by his surname like everyone else did. You obeyed, accepting it as the happy medium. Vibrant green eyes watch you closely as you settle for leaning against the desk, careful not to disturb the organized chaos that was his research. It’s still a work in progress, the way you navigate around one another, but you’re slowly making progress. “You can talk to me, you know,” you remind him, trying to remain resolute under his intense stare. There’s no denying that his rugged appearance, scars and all, are attractive and his more wolfish qualities gave him a uniqueness that was equal parts exciting and intimidating. You swallow nervously at the notion that you may be growing a little too comfortable in your thoughts of Lord Heisenberg. “Is that right?” He hums, knocking back the shot in one. He sets the glass down slowly on the desk, lulling you into a false sense of security that you had no business having in that place. In an instant he’s up on his feet and towering over you, hands braced on either side of you. You stiffen at the sudden closeness, looking up at him with a startled expression; he always gets a kick out of scaring you. “And just what would we talk about?” Comes his veiled question, shrouded in feigned innocence, asked in a voice like sin. You can practically feel the static in the air, the room electrified. He’s trying to tempt you, to trip you up so you’ll fall into his trap and make a fool of yourself. It’s a game he likes to play. That little hummingbird caged within you is in full flight when he runs a clawed finger gently down your cheek, the threat of him slipping and slicing your flesh too real to ignore. Oh, how he finds your fear so tantalizing. Your lips part in a shaky exhale, chest tight with the onset of emotions you’d really not want to be unpacking right now. The metal edge of his desk digs into the back of your thighs, boxed in by his large frame. This close you can feel the heat that emanates from him, a consistent wave, that mingles with the scent of oil, leather, and something wholly him. It leaves you reeling, panicked by the unsettling notion that you like it. You’re losing the game so early on and he knows it, even though it was rigged from the start to be in his favour. Just at the point when you’re about to crumble, your body yearning for that delectable touch to trail just that little bit lower, Heisenberg cuts you off. It’s cold and efficient, with all the precision you’d expect from someone of his talents. With a low, downright sinful chuckle he takes a step back, leaving you a wide-eyed, wanton mess. He’s won and you just let him do it. Colour burns shamefully on your cheeks and you’re quick to scamper away to hide in your room, proverbial tail between your legs. You’re furious that you made things so easy for him to play you, and play you he did. Utter fool. Little did you know that the fourth, and most dangerous, Lord had played himself for a fool too.

[kaijurakunsobs]

You will feel joy, one day

master list for this series

sorry for the wait y'all, I had to torture myself into listening to the same song to get the inspo I needed for this next chapter which is READYMADE - Ado (it has English subtitles btw)

Hope you guys enjoy this!

Summary: It's been clear from the start that you won't go down without putting up a fight, the tone in your voice and stand are nothing but infuriating for Heisenberg, just like his mere presence fills you with annoyance. The factory is enormous and whatever he's doing here could get you killed, but even in this kingdom of oil and rusted metal, there's a bit of kindness.

Right now, you would accept the title of naive, because you were when you thought this man would share his secrets with you, instead...he's giving you a fucking tour of the entire place, wildly pointing and all the doors and doing sharp turns, taking you up and down flights of stairs "I hope you don't get lost, darlin', we don't want you ending in the wrong place, right?" there's mockery in his voice as he speaks over his shoulder, halting to a stop and making you trip and crash against him.

"This is the boiler room, you might want to familiarize yourself with this place in particular" a snarky smile appearing on his lips

Peeking inside makes you go pale and sigh in frustration, it's a mess, you can see cables, crudely fixed with tape, more flammable materials, and so many oil spills on the ground, "I can also familiarize with the rest of the fabric because this dump could explode any day"

His smile falls and that expression of annoyance, that just seems to be for you, comes back in no time. Releasing a cloud of smoke he turns around and starts walking faster, slowly regaining his showman's voice and the exuberance of his movements renew with the occasional laugh, is enough to make you tune him out again, looking at whatever you find more interesting, nose scrunching up with whenever there's something that unsettles or makes you question this man's leadership and care for this place. If you do take the role of helping him, you know you're gonna exploited day and night.

He's not blind or stupid, he knows you are doing everything but listening to him, every time he looks over his shoulder to make sure you are following and paying him some god damn attention, he will always see you eyeing everything, dissecting the place, and doing a face that just speaks volumes of how unimpressed you are by his life's work, but it's not like he will tell you about his plans, it's too soon for that, what if you are just a little spy under Miranda's orders?

It rubs him the wrong way how adamant she was on you being under his orders, super-sized bitch didn't raised too much hell, which also puts him on edge, it just doesn't feel normal for him. In any other situation where Miranda has favored him over Dimitrescu, and it wasn't because "mother" gave her that heartfelt speech Karl being all alone on his iron tower, Moreau is the forgotten child of the bunch and has to beg for almost everything, Miranda is already pissed with Donna and her botanical gig, let alone, the way she uses her cadou to just make dolls move.

That left him in the position akin to a middle child, he's just there, occasionally remembered and rarely to give him treats or surprises. He's used to scavenging for materials, do the occasional grave robbing or take the corpses the other Lords leave behind.

So, why did she left you with him?

"Lastly but no less important! the living quarters"

You have been so lost in thought, you didn't noticed that his "fantastical tour" is over, and you are back to the front of the complex...shit, you didn't even paid attention to where everything is, you're gonna get so lost if you try to navigate this place on your own.

After entering the brute closes the door behind you and goes to the left office, you can hear him mumbling under his breath and things being moved around, you don't know how long he's going to be in there, so you turn your attention to the rest of the room.

From everything you have seen, this place is the cleanest one and it makes you think of the layout in your family's factory. It looks like he repurposed what used to be the waiting area, there's a kitchen in the right corner, a couple of sofas that had seen better days, a lot of blueprints have been left on the coffee table. To the left, it's the main office, a lot bigger and the tinted glass on the door has the name Heisenberg hand-painted on it, classy, you suppose that that's his room? you don't care, opting for getting close to the blueprints, his handwriting is atrocious and there are notes everywhere, how interesting, one of the workers used to say that was a sign of a brilliant mind.

"You are not allowed to go there, a'right?" hearing him so close makes you jump, when did he come back? from the tone of his voice, you might be right, it's either his bedroom "This one, however! this one is just for you" he says oh so sweetly when pointing at the smaller office to the right opening the door rather unceremoniously.

Now you get why the rest of this area is so clean and clutter-free, motherfucker pushed all the trash and old furniture in there, it's dusty and the air, somehow, is stale only in this place, you can see cobwebs "Since I'm being kind enough to let you sleep on this side and not in the cellars, I think is fair that you take care of the mess, don't you think?"

"Can't I just sleep in one of the couches?"

"Of course not, we don't want my precious mechanic to get sick, right?" condescending asshole, he even smiles at you, showing you his teeth in what you identify as an act of intimidation

"Of course we don't want that, my Lord! but, I do must say, you have been ill-mannered, showing me around your domain yet...you haven't told me your name when introductions were supposed to be made long ago" it's your turn to give him teeth flashing smile, his going a bit forced

"Well you see sweetheart, I would have done it earlier, but I came encountered a disrespectful brat that decked me in the face as soon as we met"

"Really now? Perhaps, this brat was done with being manhandled and reacted accordingly to how they felt" the sardonic smile on your face grows and you can see how much it pisses him off, and that shouldn't make you proud.

The man is looking, more like attempting, to look down on you, clicking his tongue loudly and in a dissatisfied manner, with complete derision, he gives you, the closest thing to a respectful bow "My name is Karl Heisenberg and I'm one of the four Lords working under Miranda's orders"

In response, you give him a curtsy and use your best sarcastic tone, just for him "It's such an honor to meet you, my lord. I must say I'm no noble but I do HOPE you may remember the name of this pheasant girl, Y/N, L/N Y/N"

He doesn't appreciate the way you talk to him or how you don't even try to hide how little you respect or fear him, but he needs you alive to accelerate and optimize the factory's production, under other circumstances? he would have thrown you down to let the Sturm have some fun, but he won't, at least for now.

"So, Miss Y/N...let me give you a...welcoming gift" he's harsh when trusting a bundle of crumpled clothes and old boots into your arms, pushing you back hard enough that you almost lose your balance "I don't expect you to always wear my hand-me-downs, this is a momentary arrangement"

"Oh my! so generous of you, to clothe this poor village girl with your own garments, I am so thankful for this, however, if I may ask for a tiny favor...can I know where your bathroom is? I don't what to soil this fine fabric with my dirty body"

You don't like the way he smiles at you, with one hand he grabs your shoulder and with the other he opens the door, pushing you towards what used to be the employee's showers, there's mold and broken mirrors, a lot of the shower heads are gone and the only one that seems to be functioning is leaking.

"Serve yourself, princess, just know this...there's only cold water, the hot water stopped working years ago and I haven't felt like repairing it, I hope you enjoy your shower!"

And with that, he leaves you, finally alone but unnerved on how easily he could come back and just stare at you like a creep. But you need a shower, there's grime and dirt caked to your body and it's starting to get disgusting and itchy. So you swallow your pride and leave the borrowed clothes over the small wall separating the showers from the rest of the place and brace yourself to what might be the worst moment of the day so far.

Later you are cursing him as loud as you can, he didn't lie when he said that only the cold water worked, but you would say it was freezing, his clothes are uncomfortably big on you, and smell of faint sweat and like these were left tucked away for a long time, the boots are the best part, these have been broken in nicely and they fit you...who are you kidding? the damn things are falling apart and you feel like a clown with how big they are.

That has left you with the shining crown of the shit show that's been this whole day! the trash in your new room, you had to box so many useless papers, look everywhere to find one measly broom, and use the remains of the gown you came in with to keep your hair out of your face and as a bandana to cover your nose and mouth.

From all the old furniture in the room, the only useful stuff is the old desk, a sofa that somehow survived without being eating by termites but might be infested with cockroaches, and a lamp. It's not much, but it's something.

All this moving around now has brought a new problem.

You are starving.

You can't remember when Miranda took you, let alone when was your last meal or if you were fed during your time in the cell. But Heisenberg's fridge is empty, there's only a handful of onions and those have roots and sprouts coming out already. There's nothing substantial in the cupboards or anywhere for that matter.

You doubt there might anything to eat in this place, but, you better give it a try, better die trying than going to sleep with a grumbling stomach, right? But, you didn't learn jackshit from him and you can't remember anything from the directions Heisenberg gave you.

Fuck it.

Slowly you creep out of the small apartment and peek outside, looking around assures you that the coast is clear. This could be a great learning experience! no matter how much of a dick this man is, there's something of value in his words and maybe, just maybe, you should pay more attention when he talks...MAYBE.

The place is a labyrinth of stairs, broken walls turned into hallways and sealed doors, you do have half a mind to remember which doors and areas he pointed as "out of bounds" for you, which is a surprise, seeing how massive the place is.

Under the stench of grease and smoke, you notice, the tasty scent of stew...close, very close, your poor stomach twisting painfully and mouth rapidly filling with saliva, you start following the heavenly aroma until you reach an old cargo lift, a large man sits there and for a moment that makes you stop in your tracks.

The man is surrounded by bags and crates filled with stuff from fruits to what you guess are various pieces of machinery and other objects hard to identify in the low light "Aaaaah...a new customer perhaps? You must be Lord Heisenberg's new assistant, are you not?"

He smiles with true kindness and something similar to pity, meaty hands adorned with gold rings beacon you close "Come come, miss...?"

"Uuuuuuuh...I'm Y/N, nice to meet you..."

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance miss Y/N, you may call me The Duke"

There's something infectious in him that makes you relax your shoulders and walk closer to him "So...what do you do here Duke?"

"What? well, I'm nothing but a humble merchant, occasionally I set up shop here in the factory, especially when I have a delivery or things that may spark Lord Heisenberg's interest, and now that you are here, I will make a note to bring stuff you could use too"

"I...I would appreciate the gesture, thanks" the small sincere smile in your face drops when your stomach decides to grumble loud enough to be heard by the Duke, the man laughing at the sound, making your embarrassment worst.

"Would like to accompany me with dinner, dear? I have made plenty and this could be a small...celebratory feast for you"

"Celebratory? no offense, but...there's nothing to celebrate"

"Aren't you alive and able to walk?" he's so careful when serving some stew in a bowl, making sure not to spill a drop "I think that surviving whatever happened to you, is worth celebrating"

The bowl is warm in your hands and the smell is just divine, you take a seat on the floor waiting for the Duke to serve his bowl and then you dig in, sighing in appreciation when the rich taste of the broth fills your mouth, the softness of the meat and the carrots. You can see the Duke smile with pride when you compliment his cooking, enjoying each spoonful to the fullest.

"It's getting quite late Y/N and Lord Heisenberg is one to rise early, I suggest you go to bed or you end up feeling too tired tomorrow"

"Yeah...thanks for the meal Duke, I really appreciate it"

"Don't mention it and remember, the Duke's Emporium is here to satisfy all your shopping needs!"

You bid the man farewell and do the trek back to your room, taking time to memorize the way to the lift and the living quarters, the man might be a merchant but you want to get to know more about him, he seems nice, he's been the nicest one so far.

The living area feels cold and so terribly empty, there's no sign of Heisenberg anywhere, which you are thankful for. Only after entering your room and laying on your "bed", waiting a bit to hear any sound that might belong to the Lord, when only the sounds of the factory echo back to you do you dare to cry.

It starts slowly, your eyes fixated on the ceiling, then the flood gates open and you start to sob and scream, tears running down the side of your face to get lost in your hair leaving wet patches in their wake. But your crying evolves into fear, panic, raged breathing, and asking hands, all the weight of what happened today swallows you whole.

You don't know where to start, the way you growled at Heisenberg in the church, HOW he was able to move heavy metal without touching it? and all those corpses suspended ton hooks...the howls and things banging against the doors, the cruelty in how Heisenberg tossed you around and screamed in your face. How do you even managed to put and kept that brave face on when you were so scared is beyond you, you did it and that's enough.

The rapid and irregular movement of your chest does nothing but make your side hurt, the pain shoots up and down your body, making you curl on your side to alleviate the pressure if only a bit.

You want to die...but not like this, not terrified for your existence, not at the hands of a volatile man that can crush you with his hammer any day.

You want to live, but to live with your life depending on how well you perform your role? that's not a life at all.

Exhaustion and fatigue eventually take you away into a dreamless sleep, your last thought is...what's going to happen tomorrow?

You don't know, but as the Duke said, you survived whatever Miranda did to you and you will survive this too, no matter what, you will live.

[godzillerd]

Every Day We’re Headcanoning

Friendly Heisenberg headcanons to remind all of us that yeah this is one of the baddies. Brace yourself for some unfluffy suggestions and implications.

Throughout everything that’s happened, Heisenberg is the only Lord who has never fully broken under Miranda’s manipulation. 

That is not to say, however, that he didn’t partially break. 

Like his siblings, Heisenberg has been shaped into an extraordinarily vicious individual, despite his resistance to Miranda. His moral compass is nonexistent and his ethics are tied heavily to his own wants and needs.

Cruelty comes naturally to him, and it is the only way he knows how to express himself. 

He has never experienced a tender moment, or a kind moment, or a gentle moment. He wouldn’t know what to do in those scenarios, and he would default to aggression.

His ability to value people is limited to how much they can do for him. Once that dwindles, so does the value he places in them. 

Heisenberg might not kill wantonly... but he doesn’t prevent death either, even when it would cost him nothing to do so. 

If, for instance, a villager was pursued by a lycan and ran to the factory door in desperation, he wouldn’t open it. In fact, he’d laugh and cheer them on. 

Part of this is a powerful dissociation between him and regular humans. It’s not until they’re dead that Heisenberg necessarily remembers how fragile they are. 

He also just doesn’t care.

He is an emotional child. His moods swing violently depending on the circumstances surrounding him, and as such, there are many facets of Heisenberg that one might see at any given time. 

He can be playful and charismatic and genuinely helpful. He can be the kind of man who would buy a child a toy just because they were looking at it. He might make someone a metal figurine for no reason at all. He might casually flirt just for the shits and giggles.

He can be broody and snappish and stand-offish, preferring to hole himself away, alone and angry. His good mood can disappear in a matter of seconds, replaced with frustrated anger over something no one else can see or would know to expect.

He can lapse into a fury that only time (or Mother Miranda) can soothe, and it can be triggered by something as simple as stubbing his toe, or being interrupted, or being laughed at after telling a joke. 

He is very self aware of his instability, and he hates it, but he also hates admitting to it. If he does say anything about it, it’s usually a mumbled apology which makes it very clear that he doesn’t want to address it further.

Again, he doesn’t often kill people directly, but of all his siblings, Heisenberg is the one who most loves to play with his food besides perhaps Donna. While the rest of the Lords are intrigued when an outsider stumbles upon the village, Heisenberg is always straining at the bit to get at them first.

He loves nothing more than making a production out of his games, and it’s one of the few times he really enjoys having Donna and Moreau around, as they’re always an extremely enthusiastic audience. 

During heightened states like that, Heisenberg’s ability to reject Miranda’s influence wavers drastically and he eagerly looks to her for approval.

He usually wants to cut his own eyes out for it later. 

[incendiaglacies]

Popstar Fic 12

John knocked on the bedroom door, he’d already let himself into the flat with his key. “Gideon? You in? Decent?”

“Come in!”

John ignored the groaning and braced himself and opened the door. He blinked at what he saw. Gideon was sitting on top of an overstuffed suitcase trying to zip it up. She grinned at him.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

“I’m packing. For our trip.”

“Our trip?” he raised an eyebrow.

“You, me, Zari. You said we were doing a weekend getaway,” she reminded him,

John cleared his throat. “Gideon, I meant me and Zari,” he said gently, which really wasn’t his forte.

“Oh come on! I’ll be good! Really good! Quiet as a mouse, you won’t even know I’m there! I’ll even sleep on the couch!”

John ignored the fact that the bed was even an option, let alone the same room. “Gideon, we’ve talked about this. Zari already thinks something is going on between us, this isn’t going to help-”

“It will be bonding time! She just needs to get to know me-” more like flirt with his girlfriend -”Everyone likes me, Miranda loved me!”

Miranda wanted to sleep with her, from what Rip had told him. John nodded. “What we need is space, you understand?”

“But...” Gideon blinked, her face faltering. “I went everywhere with Rip and Miranda. Even their honeymoon!”

“That’s not normal.” And really explained why Gideon had zero sense of boundaries.

“Does this mean that when you and Zari move in together I can’t live with you?”

“Who said anything about us - what? No! You are not living with us!”

“Oh.” Gideon looked heartbroken. She really was co-dependent and once Rip and Miranda had moved away she’d clung to her bandmates, namely John. “Rip and Miranda let me live with them.”

Which was probably why she had written the break up song of the century when they’d moved. John walked up and patted her shoulder. “We’ll look for a nice house and you can be our neighbour.” If he got a mother-in-law suite he’d never get any privacy with Zari!

She sniffled. “Add some chocolate in and it’s a deal.”

John nodded, once again wondering how the hell to ship her off to Rip already.

[sofiaanddisney]

Let The Good Times Troll AU. Sofia’s gravely injured after the fall from the bridge and Roland, who substained minor scratches, has only himself to blame. Multi chapter or one shot. It’d be interesting if it was multi chapter but it’s up to you.

Never Again

"The princess will likely never walk again."

The somber words of the royal physician replayed themselves over and over in Roland's mind as he sat in the chair beside the bed in the castle's medical wing. He was alone with his new stepdaughter after insisting that Miranda return to bed. The queen, who had stayed up all night, was reluctant to leave Sofia's side, but Roland had promised to come get her if there were any changes.

Now, alone in the dimly lit room, Roland could feel tears pricking the back of his eyes as he gazed down at the small girl lying unconscious on the modest bed. Sofia looked so tiny and frail, especially now that she had a bulky brace around her neck to prevent moving and farther injury.

The king sighed and closed his eyes, trying to recall the previous night's events, but he could only remember a few small details. He remembered following Sofia to the troll caves. He remembered catching up with her on a bridge–a bridge that had almost instantly given way under their weight. He remembered Sofia's terrified scream as they plummeted to the ground far below. He must have struck his head on a rock because the next thing he knew, he was lying on a bed in the medical wing with no recollection as to how he'd gotten there. Miranda had been sitting beside the bed, crying. She had been relieved when he woke up, but she couldn't stop the tears from flowing. Then the doctor had arrived. Seeing the king awake, he delivered some very grim news. He'd just finished doing what he could for the little princess. He told them that Sofia's neck had been broken, resulting in severe damage to her spine. He said that she would be paralyzed for the rest of her life. It wasn't clear how much of her body would be paralyzed, but one thing was certain; Sofia would likely never walk again.

Sofia hadn't awakened once since the fall, and perhaps she never would... He opened his eyes and gazed down at the still form of his new stepdaughter once more. It was very hard to believe that this bright little girl, who skipped through the castle halls with a happy smile on her face, was lying there unaware of just how much her life would change. If she did wake, she would be in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. She would never dance at another ball. She could never be able to ride her horse in the flying derby. She would probably even have to leave Royal Prep… These thoughts made Roland's chest tighten in pain, especially when he remembered how happy Sofia had been to make the flying derby team after a challenging tryout race.

It's not fair, he thought, barely able to suppress a sob. A few tears escaped his eyes and slid down his cheeks, but he made no move to wipe them away. Why had he only suffered a few minor scratches and a bump on his head? Why did a sweet young girl like Sofia have to get hurt far worse than him? He shouldn't have followed her to the troll caves. It was his added weight that made the bridge collapse. If he had just gone to bed as he intended, none of this would have happened.

He didn't realize he was clenching his fists until he became aware of something digging into the skin of one palm. Looking down, he unfurled his fingers to find Sofia's amulet in his hand where he had been holding it all night, ever since the doctor had handed it to him after having to remove it from the princess's neck. The king felt an intense anger welling up inside as he stared down at the purple jewel. He'd given it to Sofia as a welcome gift because he had heard that it guarded the princess who wore it, and he'd hoped it would keep her safe. So why hadn't it protected her during their fall?

"You wretched piece of junk," he growled, closing his fingers over the necklace and shaking it angrily. Standing, he made his way to the room's single window and yanked it open. Without hesitation, he threw the amulet as hard as he could before slamming the window shut, not caring where the thing landed.

Returning to his chair, he sat down and reached out to gently smooth back a few curls from the girl's face. "I… I'm so sorry, Sofia," he whispered, his voice cracking with anguish. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, he lowered his head onto the mattress and cried himself to sleep.

Thanks for the request!

[divagonzo]

The Incident - Romione +

Ao3

A/N: Thanks to @vivithefolle​ for getting through my enormous writer’s block to inspire me to write this story. It’s angst filled Hurt/Comfort/Family with many triggering aspects for those who are ND. I apologize for it but the story wouldn’t leave me alone.

Given the nature of the subject matter, I’m personally rating this M rated - and because of the troubling aspects of the story, especially for those who would be triggered by what the story entails.

CW: child bullying, child injury, being bullied for being neurodivergent

Give me my demarcation line, damn it!

The Incident

Once more, with Feeling

Hermione took her reading glasses off of her nose and rubbed her eyes. She was absolutely at her wit’s end with the bloody bureaucracy of the Wizengamot and why they refuse to do things her way when it’s the best for everyone involved. But No, that sod Purifoy has to put in his Galleon and derail everything and cause a ruckus in the chambers.

“Mrs. Granger?” Hermione’s executive assistant Miranda Blunt stuck her head in the office. “Mrs. Potter is calling, says it’s an emergency.”

“Put her through,” Hermione got up from her vast oaken desk and went to the fireplace. The flames in there turned green from the warming orange from the chilly August morning.

“Hermione,” Ginny’s voice came through crystal clear. “We need you at St. Mungo’s immediately.”

Her heart lurched to a sudden stop. “What’s happened? Ron?” Hermione rose from the fireplace and went to collect her purse from the secure drawer in her desk. “If it involves Harry he’s going to catch an earful.” She pulled the compact mirror from her pocket and opened it, waiting the seconds for her assistant to open hers. “I’m going to St. Mungo’s. I’ll check back in as soon as I can.”

“Understood.” Miranda broke the connection. 

“What’s happened?” Hermione reached for the urn on the mantle. 

“It’s Hugo,” Ginny didn’t elaborate. “We need you immediately.”

Hermione froze. Her baby. Well, not a real baby anymore, not after the growth spurt he had this summer and seemed to stretch out by inches, taking after Ron, but still such a sweet boy. She enjoyed snuggling him when he would allow it, but he couldn’t fall asleep unless Ron was holding him in his arms, holding onto him awkwardly until his soft snores told everyone that he could be gently placed in his own bed.

She shook herself from her stupor and reached into the urn for the Floo powder and threw it in, stepping through the few blocks to the Auror waiting area. She saw Ginny sitting there with Rose, James, Al, and Lily Luna. Harry was nowhere to be found. Rose had her hand wrapped up, like she’d broken it and James was sitting on the other side of the room, two black eyes and a blood crusted nose that looked like it hadn’t been treated yet. 

“Where – 

“The nurse will see you back,” Ginny said stoically.

Hermione ran from the room to the admission desk and saw the Nurse. Hermione knew her well enough by face and first name but wasn’t much beyond that. “I was told my son was admitted. Hugo Weasley-Granger.”

“Yes, you’re needed.” The nurse left the window and met Hermione at the doors, walking briskly into the various hallways that hadn’t changed much in the last 20 years. “Mrs. Potter brought your son in about twenty minutes ago and we said we needed you immediately. He’s been hurt but there’s something else going on, something we don’t quite understand, and you might be able to shed some light on the situation.”

Hermione went into the area and saw her son sitting in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth with his arms wrapped around his knees. There was some crusted blood on his neck, below his ear, and a huge bruise on the side of his face. 

“He won’t let us near him, Mrs. Weasley,” a medi-witch spoke up first. “Any time any of us even gets within a meter of him, he screams.”

“I am going to sit on the ground. Every time I finish a sentence, move me six inches closer. His therapist has things in place to help him when he gets like this.” Hermione dropped her purse and put her wand down. She knew about these behaviors and she’d read up on how to help him cope as well. 

“Hugo, Mummy is here.” Her voice was so flat to her own ears it frightened her – but she knew from Audrey that it would be soothing for her son. “You’re safe. No one else is going to hurt you,” She felt magic surround her, ever so slowly shifting her forward towards her son. “Aunt Ginny told me you needed me. I came straight away.”

She repeated the mantra until she was sitting right in front of her son. While he looked somewhat like Ron, being gangly and with auburn hair with ginger strands and streaks through it, it had her texture, along with freckles across his nose and on his neck. But he took after her in personality, temperament, and how he saw the world, but only more intensely. She understood him, when he would be quiet for hours at a time, or completely engrossed in something that interested him.

She suspected he was much like her by the time he was a year old, with some behaviors she had been watching to see if they manifested. As soon as they started, she took him to a Muggle doctor who recommended her to a specialist who made a tentative diagnosis. He had a cadre of therapists to help him with his speech and role playing so he wouldn’t have a meltdown for any change in his daily schedule.

She knew. She didn’t need it to be tentative, from how much he’d get overwhelmed at Sunday lunches at the Burrow to not liking being hugged or easily frustrated to even the texture of his clothing, which she understood far too well.  Yes, he was much like her so seeing him like this was painful. But while her parents struggled for so long, she fought like hell so he wouldn’t struggle as much as she did growing up.

“Hugo, I am right here. I’m not going anywhere. No one is going to hurt you.  When you are ready, you can crawl into my lap. Take the time you need.”

Ever so slowly, in what felt like hours was probably seconds, Hugo slowly ceased rocking before crawling into her lap, right before he started rocking hard yet again.

He settled in and she took a deep breath, knowing that the first giant hurdle had been passed. 

“Love, the medi-witch is going to use magic to put us up on the bed. Close your eyes and bury your face in my chest. They won’t be using magic on you, only me.” He did as instructed, burying his head into the flannel of her jumper. She looked at the Medi-witch.  She watched the non-verbal incantation wand movement and braced slightly. Magic enveloped her again, levitating her from the very cold tile floor up onto the gurney. 

“Sweetie, will you hold my hand? I don’t want you to talk but I do need you to communicate with me and I know this way is much easier for you right now.” She opened her hand and waited for him to put his in hers, squeezing it hard. 

“That’s terrific, love. Now you don’t have to talk at all the rest of the time we’re here, only answer my questions by squeezing my hand.” Hermione stared over his head at the Medi-witch and watched her procure parchment and self-dictating quill. She nodded once for Hermione to start.

“Did Rosie hurt you?” One squeeze. “Rosie didn’t hurt you. That’s good. I’m happy to hear that.”

“Did Lils hurt you?” One squeeze. “Al?” One squeeze. “So Jamie hurt you?” Two squeezes.

“Could you tell Aunt Ginny what happened?” One squeeze. “You hurt too much, doesn’t it?” Two squeezes. “I thought so. Are you still hurting?” Two squeezes. “And you don’t want to tattle on Jamie?” One squeeze.

“Was Jamie playing Quidditch?” Two squeezes. “Was he chasing a snitch?” One squeeze. “Throwing a Quaffle?” Two squeezes. “The bludger?” two squeezes.

“Were you on your toy broom outside, playing?” Two squeezes. “Was Aunt Ginny watching you?” One squeeze. “Jamie convinced you to go play outside with him and Rose?” Two squeezes. “And then you got hurt and saw Aunt Ginny?” Two squeezes.

“Jamie convinced you to come outside and ride your broom without an adult.” She sighed. “Jamie means well sometimes but he doesn’t quite fathom why the rules are in place for Hugo.” She turned back to her son. “I’m not mad at you, sweetie. You love your older cousin and want to be able to play with him and Rosie and you hate being left out.” Two squeezes. “Yes, I figured as such.”

Hermione looked at the other medi-witch. “Have you asked Mrs. Potter what happened?”

“She said that she found two bludgers flying around their pitch and Hugo on the ground crying.”

“Did Jamie hit the bludgers at you?” Hugo started rocking. “More than once?” The rocking grew frantic and she felt her shirt getting damp.

The door crashed open, and Ron stood in the doorway, seeing his wife and child on the gurney. Hermione slightly shook her head before seeing his ears turning red. Right now she couldn’t cope with Ron and Hugo so Ron would have to deal with it, for now at least. 

He closed the door softly while Hermione rocked Hugo in her lap, letting her son have his silent meltdown without him noticing everyone in the room watching him. People watching him meltdown always made it worse. 

The Healer pulled his wand and handed it to the medi-witch, showing Hermione without his wand that he wanted to charm Hugo to sleep so they could tend him. She nodded and watched the healer gently apply the charm to her son and felt him drift off to sleep, like he’d fallen asleep in her arms which he hadn’t done since he was a toddler. He always preferred his Daddy once he could make his wishes known. She wouldn’t complain, even if her heart had been beating out of her chest entirely too hard for her continued good health.

She stood and gently placed her son on the gurney, feeling a sob try to erupt. She stifled it, knowing she’d pay for it later on but Hugo came first.

“Now that he’s asleep, we can check him. We did not want to do that without a parent’s presence and their permission. But his behavior was so queer that – “

Hermione turned and if she’d had her wand in her hand, she couldn’t guarantee that she wouldn’t have hexed the healer tending her son. “His behaviour is not queer,” Hermione growled. “My son is Autistic. He’s been diagnosed by Muggle doctors and has Healer Reeves as his Magical counselor. He takes after me that way and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t refer to my son that way.”

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley,” he retorted instantly. “He got upset and we didn’t know how to help him once Mrs. Potter had left the room.”

“Now you know,” she snorted, “and now you can tell me what happened.”

Hermione stepped back to the side of the room and watched the Healers and multiple medi-witches work on her son, using magical diagnostic charms and spells to work. They worked efficiently, silently, with a medi-witch dictating the medical records.

Seconds passed that felt like days, with the Healers finally turning back to Hermione, seeing her. “He will be OK. From what Mrs. Potter told us, along with our tests, he has a concussion from getting hit with a bludger. There is also a huge bruise on his back from what looks like another bludger impact. I’d almost say that someone was hitting them at your son, but I don’t like to make assumptions. Bruise paste will fix the back but for the head, he will need time at home, with little in the way of lights and noise. It’s not severe, not like Quidditch players get from time to time, but he will require some time to rest and recover.”

“There’s nothing you can do for him?”

“These things are tricky when it comes to the brain. Even Muggle Medicine has limitations when it comes to this kind of brain injury. But at his age, he needs rest and quiet and darkness to remove stimulation for him. It would probably benefit him in the long run, too, given what you’ve said.”

She sighed, trying to take a deep breath that just wouldn’t happen. Her precious son, her sensitive child, was bullied by an older cousin. That was bad enough. That would be dealt with as soon as Hugo was home and asleep in his bed.  But to add a possible traumatic brain injury to it, at his age, was a bit too far. Fortunately, she had ample time accrued to take off and spend it with him, or work from home given everything going on. However, seeing to what happened took priority after tending Hugo.

“When can we take him home, since my husband is probably out in the waiting room?”

“We shall be finished shortly, maybe a few more minutes, and then take him home straightaway. No Floo travel for at least a month. No Portkeys either since it might aggravate any sort of injury. Apparition or Muggle transport only, and then keep it as minimal as possible, for his benefit.”

Hermione understood that all too well. She tended Harry and Ron occasionally after mishaps with the Aurors.  “Please keep him asleep until I return. I need to go speak with my husband.” She collected her purse from near the door and slipped out, knowing that Ron would be mad with grief. Instead, she found him pacing the hallway around the first corner.

“How is he?” He raced up to her when he saw her, embracing her like she desperately needed. She didn’t realize how much tension let go with his hug. “I didn’t want to come back in and upset Hugh. I knew you’d have it under control.”

Hermione explained what happened as well as what caused it. Ron’s face grew even more pale than normal but his ears and neck grew intensely red. 

“I’m upset too but we will handle it later, once we get Hugo home and in bed resting. And it’s not like Ginny probably hasn’t tended to things by now.” She slumped back into her husband’s arms. Who knew that her heart would have two distinct beats from her own, and stress hers when anything happened to either of her kids. She hadn’t realized until now how much her children’s welfare meant to her, especially when it came to the treatment by the family. “We need the healers to check on Rosie. She had a wrap around her wrist when I rushed through the waiting room.”

“You go get Hugo and take him home. I’ll tend to Rosie and we’ll be home straightaway. I also will need to speak with her and find out what happened.”

Hermione took a deep breath, relaxing her back and shoulders. “I’ll see you when you get home, Love.” She stood on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss across his lips. The privacy of the hallway would suffice, given the overwhelming adoration she had for her husband. He was her rock, her foundation, rarely getting inside his head too much now, but also giving her subtle direction and taking the mental load on what needed to be done without being boorish like she could be. He never demanded, and never expressed disappointment when she made a different decision but, most of the time, his wisdom was exactly what she needed when she felt lost and drowning in indecision.

She turned and went back to the room to collect her son and take him home.

*****************

“Hermione, we’re home,” Ron bellowed into their residence outside of Cardiff. “And Ginny will be over as soon as the Healers tend Jamie.”

Hermione came out of Hugo’s room, closing the door without shutting it completely. “I have it dark and quiet in his room, and the potion the healers gave him should let him sleep for hours. They said he needed to sleep and rest as much as possible for the next two weeks, minimum. I’ve already spoken to Miranda and set the owls to come here and she will pop over after work to bring today’s docket and tomorrow’s as well.”

“Mum, I’m sorry,” Rosie chimed in. “I saw what happened and instead of running to get Aunt Ginny I got upset and hit Jamie. I know it was wrong but – “

“What happened?” Hermione tried to keep her voice neutral for her older child, who was just like her Dad with her underlying temper. She wasn’t mad at Rosie and she needed to keep her temper in check with her child, who might mistake that Mum was mad at her, and not frustrated with the situation.

Rose looked at her Dad and he nodded before she turned back to her Mum. 

“Everyone went outside to play, with Aunt Ginny watching us. Al and Lils were inside coloring and Hugo came out to fly around. Lils yelled and Aunt Ginny went back inside.” Rose looked at Ron and he nodded, prodding her gently to continue.

“Jamie and I kept playing Quidditch out back, throwing the quaffle while dodging the bludgers flying around while Aunt Ginny was inside making Lunch. It was so much fun, and we were laughing when either of us missed the Quaffle or got bumped by the bludger. I thought Hugo had gone inside with Aunt Ginny since I didn’t see him. Jamie flew down and plucked up a beater’s bat out of the box and said he’d take a swipe at them while flying and I said OK since it’s good practice for me, too.”

“You know how I feel about that,” Hermione said, “especially with Aunt Ginny not keeping a close watch on you while you’re doing it.”

“I know,” Rose replied. “I thought she’d be inside only for a few moments.”

“Ok, go ahead.”

“So the bludgers were flying around and Jamie had his beater’s bat out while also throwing the Quaffle at me from time to time. Anyway, I told Jamie to wait a moment because I wanted something to drink. I heard him laughing and then I heard a thump and saw Hugo on the ground and his broom broken. I didn’t know Hugo had come back outside to fly some more. I looked up and saw one racing for Hugo. I ran towards him but couldn’t stop it from hitting him in the head before bouncing off. I ran back for my broom and raced up to where Jamie was. He looked boggled that another bludger had hit Hugo. I… I flew into him while on my broom before taking his beater’s bat and hitting him with it. 

“Aunt Ginny came outside and saw Hugo on the ground. She dropped the tray of sandwiches and pumpkin juice and ran to him, yelling at us to get down on the ground, that we needed to go to St. Mungo’s.” Rose held her head down. “I know I should have gotten her first, but I was so upset that Jamie did that, and laughing about it.”

“I don’t fault you for being upset but you know better. No quidditch this weekend for you. A small consequence for how you acted instead of going to get Aunt Ginny should be sufficient punishment. Besides, your wrist will be sore for a day or two anyway, I reckon, hitting Jamie with the beater’s bat.”

“Yes, Mum.”

Hermione looked up at her quiet husband. “What are we going to do about Jamie? This isn’t the first time he’s been a toerag towards Hugo.”

The fireplace roared to life and Ginny was inside the flames. “The Healers are finished with Jamie. Can we come through? He needs to know what his punishment is for what he did today.”

Ron and Hermione shared a look, not bothering to look at Rosie. “Come on through,” they said in unison. 

The fireplace roared high inside the hearth and Albus stepped through first, followed by a tidier Jamie, followed by Ginny holding Lily Luna to her chest. His face was still bruised but his nose was fixed and the blood removed from his shirt. Within moments they were all free of dust and so was the den.  “We won’t be staying long. Jamie has a very long list of things he has to do as punishment for what happened today.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I was aiming for Rose. I -“

“Enough, James!,” Ginny’s voice was quiet, dangerous, and one that no one wanted to cross. 

“Did you tell Hugo he could come outside with you?” Ron asked first. 

“Well, yeah, at first. Mum had been outside and it was nice and then mum went inside for a minute and Hugo was having fun on his toy broom while Rosie and I were playing Quidditch.”

“He’s six years old, James.” Hermione’s voice brooked no insolence. “He isn’t to ride his broom without supervision, ever. Did you not understand that?”

“No,” his voice grew quiet. “Mum said it was OK. I didn’t think – “

“No, you didn’t. You didn’t see Al or Lils on their brooms, did you?”

“No,” he said again. “But he had been riding earlier so I thought it was ok.”

Ron stood before James, towering over the lad. He was in his Auror stance, looking like he was ready to fight with his bare hands. “Why did you hit the bludgers at Rosie? I gave your parents that set, as a gift when you turned two.” Ron huffed. “I know that set. Grandpa, Uncle George, and I charmed it so the bludgers wouldn’t be brutal unless you hit the bludger with a bat. The first time you hit that bludger with a bat, it disabled the charm.”

“We’ve done it before. No one got hurt - “

“It’s no excuse, James,” Ginny said. “You know the rules - no beater bats unless an adult is outside with you. It’s one reason why you’re being punished - for being reckless while playing.”

“Didn’t you bother to see that Hugo was in the way?” Ron’s Auror voice had come out. “Do you think it’s funny picking on him? We know this isn’t the first time he’s not tattled on you. He’s six years old. He’s a child compared to you.”

“I wasn’t aiming at him. It was an accident - “

Ron took a step forward. James backed up into his Mum, standing almost as tall as her at 11. “An accident is you falling off your broom. An accident is dropping a glass of pumpkin juice because you weren’t paying attention. No, you chose to swing the beater’s bat and hit it at Rosie, even if you didn’t intend it to hit Hugo, it did, and it hurt him terribly.”

“I didn’t mean to! He was having fun with us, playing Quidditch.”

“Bollocks, James.” Ron’s temper seemed to be erupting. “He’s never expressed a moment’s interest in Quidditch, unlike Rosie. Didn’t you realize that?”

“No,” his voice was whiney. “We thought he - ”

“There’s no we to it, James,” Hermione cut in. “She says she told you she was landing to get a drink of juice and heard you laughing and saw the bludger hit Hugo in the head.”

“Bullying kids is never funny, James. Ever. It’s unacceptable behavior from anyone, much less you. I’d have thought better of you when it came to being kind to your cousins.”

“He doesn’t know,” Ginny said under her breath. “We’ve not told them.”

Ron crossed his arms but stood there looking ferocious. He spied Rose at the edge of the hallway, listening intently. Al and Lils were there with her. 

“I’m sorry,” a small tear leaked out.  He refused to look at any of the adults but stared at their shoes. 

“I don’t think so, James,” Ron interrupted. “I don’t think you’re sorry for hurting Hugo. I know you’ve done it before and you were let off with a warning. But not this time. No, this behavior is unacceptable in this family, but especially from you. You’re eleven and starting Hogwarts in a month. You’ve gotten your letter and are expected to have some level of maturity, even for your age. Mistreating small kids is behavior that other toerags do,” Ron snorted before hearing Malfoy under Hermione’s breath. 

“He’s already grounded for the next month, Ron,” Ginny added. “But beyond that is up to you and Hermione.

“What do you think, Hermione?”

She turned back to her Godson. “James, look at me.” He looked up but refused to make eye contact. “I said look at me, James Sirius Potter.” He finally did and Hermione saw the fear on his face. “You hurt Hugo. He’s in his bed asleep and can’t come to play at all for the next two weeks because of your mindless behavior. He might need longer to recover from your thoughtless actions. You picked on him for whatever reason, after we as a family have told everyone that he’s to be treated a certain way. And yet you, for some reason that isn’t important now, decided to be careless  around him. We already know he’s not told on you for previous things because he adores you, or did, and didn’t want you to get into trouble.

“But you are in deep trouble now.” 

He shuddered slightly. 

“But I also think that you aren’t sorry for what you did, only that it was worse than you expected and got in trouble for it. No, you chose to hit those bludgers in his direction intentionally. Whether you were aiming for Rosie or Hugo doesn’t matter. Your impulsiveness hurt someone. I’d be furious if you had hurt Rosie, too.”

‘I’m – “

“Don’t say you’re sorry until you actually mean it,” Ginny spat. “You’re only sorry for the consequences impacting you.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Go home and get me your broom. Now.”

“Mum?” James looked at her.  “My broom? What are you going to do?”

“You’re already in trouble. Questioning my judgment will make it ten times worse. Go get your broom, now, James.”

He ran for the fireplace and tossed floo powder into it, disappearing in the green flames.

“What do you have in mind?” Ron asked. 

Ginny stood there pondering a moment. “Until he shows some real maturity, I think losing any and all flying privileges on his broom will suffice. He will hand over his broom to you and so he can’t nick it like I used to do when no one was looking.  I also think that it might be smart that he is not able to try out for the house team for a couple of years.:

Ron took a deep breath, like he’d been holding it in. “If he thinks he can get away with tosser behaviour this should break it for good. Merlin knows how relentless Fred and George were to me.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s make it two years.” She turned to look at the window next to the fireplace. A small sigh escaped. “I’ll owl Minerva this weekend and let her know. Not being allowed to try out until he’s a little older would be a benefit. First years aren’t allowed to try out anyway so two years will make him the start of his third year so he should be mature enough. If not we can have it extended.”

“Ok.” Ron slumped slightly. “Hermione can decide on when he’s allowed to use his broom again. I won’t interfere.”

“Neither will I,” Ginny added.

James ran back through the fire to where he handed it to his Mum. Ginny turned and handed it to Hermione.

“James, for hurting Hugo – “

“I didn’t – “

“Yes, you did. I’ve seen it before. I watched you with Fred laughing when Hugo was being picked on.”

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

“No, if you were you’d have not done it.” Hermione’s fierce stare made him bow his head. “We’ve discussed what is acceptable and what isn’t.”

“You don’t pick kids younger than you. I know we’ve taught you better.” Ron’s disappointment was evident. 

Ginny stood there, resolute. “You’re grounded from flying for the rest of the summer. You’re also losing your broom until Aunt Hermione says you can have it back.”

He spun, facing his Mum. “No! That’s not fair!” He turned back around and saw his Uncle staring him down. 

“Fair is following the rules set down – and that was that Hugo is to be protected, not picked on.” Ron gave a piercing look, freezing James’ protests. “Aunt Hermione and I will keep your broom, until you prove to us that you can follow the simplest of rules, of which is You don’t pick on Hugo – ever. You hurt him, James, and that’s not something that a mere I’m sorry will fix. So, until you prove it to us, you’re grounded from your boom. I know Rosie won’t share hers, not with what she’s heard.”

“No! Not my broom. It’s mine!”

“No, now it’s ours, until we decide to return it to you.”

“I am writing to Headmistress McGonagall, to tell her you will not be allowed to try out for the house teams for an additional year, since first years aren’t allowed to try out.”

“Two years!”

“You hit him twice, this time. The consequences for hurting Hugo and laughing about it should be severe.”

“We think that you need time to learn empathy, to treat those who you don’t respect with kindness, and respect, by not bullying them, ever.”

James let a sob out before covering his face and running for the fireplace. It flared for a moment before settling down.

The adults stood quietly for a moment with the rest of the kids present. “Rosie, go back to your room. We’ll be in shortly.” Rosie nodded before doing as asked.

“She was punished too, right?”

“We have. She’s grounded from her broom and quidditch, too. Just not as long, but for hitting Jamie afterward and not running to get you first.”

“Sounds fair,” Ginny looked at her other two kids. “How about we head home and the two of you can play more. Jamie will be grounded for quite some time.  But you two know better than to pick on Hugo, right?” Two very enthusiastic nods were her answer.

“We’ll see you Sunday, even if you don’t come for Sunday lunch. Harry and I will pop over to have a few with you and bring leftovers if you don’t show.”

Ginny gave Hermione a hug and received a light pat on the shoulder from Ron before stepping to the fireplace hearth. “I am sorry for James’ behavior. He knows better and I know when Harry finds out, he’s going to blow his stack over it.” She looked at her two younger children. “It might also be time to sit this bunch down and explain a few things.” The adults shared a look.

“I’m sure once he knows everything about the consequences of the incident, he’ll calm down. We don’t want James turning into a toerag like Dudley was growing up.”

Ginny shook her head. “No, we don’t. Love to both of you and my nephew, too.” Al went first through the fireplace before Ginny pulled Lily Luna close to her and spun away in the flames. 

After they left, Ron went to the cooling cabinet for a cold pumpkin juice and brought Hermione some water. “You think we were too hard on him? Two years is a very long time when you’re that young.”

“No, I think it’s just right. Ginny only banned him from Quidditch for the Summer and she only banned him from trying out for the house team until the start of his third year.  She didn’t say he couldn’t fly on a family broom, only that we would hold his broom until he proved he’s mature enough to get it back. He’s free to fly but not on his prized possession or playing the sport he loves.”

Ron necked the bottle of his juice. “You think it will work?”

“I think it’s a fair and just punishment for hurting Hugo, even accidentally. We don’t want a repeat of the incident ever again.” Ron opened his arms and Hermione melted into the embrace, finally feeling the tension from everything that happened today melt. She stifled a sob but felt Ron’s arms tighten around her. 

 “Everything will sort itself out, Hermione. You’ll see.”

“I know.” They stayed hugging for a long while, both lost in their thoughts on their precious son.