#finally wrote dorlene mostly out of spite

[thistlecatfics]

Breathless (Dorcas/Marlene, 400 words, M)

Undernegotiated Kink (!!!), Breath play, Panic, Thank goodness for Revivify, Canon Compliant, POV First Person, First Wizarding War, Intercrural, Choking, Canon Major Character Deaths

Day 8: Femslash Fuckery's breathplay + @febuwhump's Panic + @kinkuary's Intercrural + @hpshipuary's Female Character Dorcas Meadowes.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

For months, from cold January when Benjy died to thawing April when Caradoc fell, she begged me. Our sex had grown rougher, the bruises on her pale skin more likely to come from my hands, my belt or my switch than from any Death Eater.

Finally, violence we could control.

We did not negotiate the details beforehand. We hardly talked after. We just knew. She let me carry out my darkest fantasies, and she proved to herself she could survive anything, but this one thing she begged for, and I refused.

Still, death stalked us.

She barely survived a curse from a Death Eater, requiring a week of bed rest. I avoided a werewolf bite just a week later, taking claws across my back instead.

Together, in each gasp of pain, each moan of pleasure, each breathless cry, our time was infinite. Then, reality. New dead announced. The news St. Mungo’s was no longer safe for us. The growing sense, even amongst those young Gryffindors still clinging to their naivete, that we were going to lose.

After Cardoc died, I relented.

My fist tightened around her neck, squeezing tighter. So easy. I did not expect it to be so easy. Her eyes blinked softly shut, and I had never felt power like this before, a rush beyond any potion, any charm. She was mine, and I was a goddess, she my supplicant. I rode her, pushing my cunt against her thigh until I shuddered.

I released her before brushing her blonde hair away and kissing the top of the forehead of my most darling supplicant.

She slumped down.

Shouting, shouting, hitting her. Still she slumped. I shouted for help, muffled by the Imperturbable charm we placed, and no one came.

I screamed two Revivify’s, implemented in quick succession, as we had been taught by the Order medic.

She blinked awake.

Her voice hazy, she offered gratitude.

A week later, after the Death Eaters murdered her and her entire family, her words echoed in my head:

I wanted to feel death with you before they killed me.

I killed five of theirs with my wand and had my hands around the throat of the sixth while my mind considered how many I could kill before the ache of her loss eased enough to breathe. The number does not exist. Lord Voldemort himself took me. I did not need air without her.