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lightsofthe-living-gvf · 1 year ago

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Song and Dance

18+ Minors DNI

Jake Kiszka/Reader

Summary: Jake sees right through the game you’re trying to play and puts an end to it.

Warnings: Smut, dom!Jake & sub!reader, teasing, pet names, impact play, oral (m. rec), unprotected penetrative sex (yk wrap it before you tap it), begging, dirty talk, crying. Let me know if I forgot any!

Word Count: 2.8k.

A/N: Hello, everyone! This isn’t what I usually write—I tend to write the boys as subs—but I had this idea and literally wrote this fic at the speed of light 🤷🏼‍♀️ I hope you enjoy!

As soon as the hotel room door had locked, Jake issued to you a simple command, "Strip."

Shrugging off your jacket and draping it over a chair, you looked to him with raised brows and an amused smile. You were feeling particularly.. cheeky, and you proved so by not moving a single inch to follow his order. Instead, you remarked, "Desperate much?"

Jake didn't show any signs of his irritation towards you and your blatant refusal, besides the tightening of his jaw. But, you saw it. You had always been able to read him so easily and you knew, you had him right where you wanted him.

You had been teasing Jake all night at the event he had brought you to; tossing him tantalizing looks and whispering filthy things in his ear and allowing the slit in your dress to reveal more of your thigh than strictly necessary. You had been burning for him all day and sure, you could have just behaved and waited to try and start anything until you were behind closed doors, but what was the fun in that? Your Jacob was so hot when he was all flushed and frustrated. Why would you deny yourself the thrill of his vexation?

Jake knew exactly what you were doing, and he was more than willing to participate in your little song and dance until neither of you could stand it. However, he was not willing to lose his composure so early in the night. He restated his command in a collected tone, "Strip, Y/N."

This time, you obeyed. You bent down to unstrap your heels, giving him a seductive look down the front of your dress. As you straightened back up and stepped out of your shoes, you had a delicious, devious idea. You looked to Jake with your prettiest doe eyes and a pouted lip.

"Don't you wanna do it? I thought you liked to undress me."

You were playing dangerous game, one you were sure to lose. Jake just chuckled. His desire for you was growing by the second, and so was that domineering flare of his. But, he wasn't ever going to let on. His only tell would be his rapidly hardening cock beginning to strain against his dress pants. He sauntered over to the armchair in the corner of the room and took a seat.

"I believe I gave you an order, my love," he said, giving you a once-over. "And if you don't fucking follow it in the next ten seconds, I'll have you over my knee. You don't want that, do you?"

You cheeks flushed and your chest warmed with an addicting medley of fear and lust. You knew that Jake would follow through with his threat. Your mind flashed to a few weeks ago, when Jake had bent you over the kitchen countertop and turned your backside into a pretty, deep pink. You fought valiantly to suppress the needy shudder that threatened to rack your limbs. While the offer was damn near mouthwatering, you didn't want that tonight.

So, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor. Next, you unhooked your bra and stepped out of your panties, and they joined the pile at your feet. Then, you waited, standing all exposed to Jake's starved, wandering eyes. Even though he had seen you naked so many times the occasions were countless, you had always felt a little shy when you found yourself on display. Your blush spread to the tips of your ears and the plane of your chest.

Jake took notice, of course, and teased you, "Awe, are you shy, my darling?"

You forced yourself to lift your chin in opposition. You weren't going let just his gaze knock down the defiant pillar you had spent all night building. You were simply too prideful.

"No," you answered.

Jake met your eyes with a challenging expression, but didn't say anything else. He glazed over your naked form a little longer. You were so lovely; from the willful sparkle in your eyes, to the soft curve of your hips and waist, and to your plush thighs. Jake adored you so.

Just before you could get impatient and mouth-off, Jake motioned to you, "Come here, pretty girl. Kneel."

You knew you were beginning to truly push it, but you didn't move. A glower came across his features, his brows furrowing and his eyes darkening even more so than they already were, if that was even possible. You felt yourself grow week in the knees, but you held strong.

"That's how you want to do this?" he mused. "Fine."

His hands went to his belt buckle and as soon as you heard the chink of the metal, you went, falling to your knees in front of your Jacob in swift, desperate devotion. He gave a wolfish smirk and gently reached out, running a hand down the side of your face. You leaned into the touch, falling out of character just long enough to stupidly let yourself be lured into a false sense of security.

"My pretty baby," he cooed down at you.

Then, in one swift motion, Jake slid his fingers into your hair and closed his fist, yanking your head back and exposing your throat. You gasped and your hips bucked, the action shocking your back into reality. Jake wasn't trying to play nice, and neither were you. He pulled even harder, just to see he wince spread across your features.

"You think you're slick, don't you? Think you can tease me all night long without any punishment?" He yanked your head forward, so your eyes were locked, and hissed, "You've become such a brat."

He let go of your hair and, his hand went for his belt buckle, once again. You felt a bit of a panic rise in your chest; perhaps you had pushed too far, and you were going to get the punishment you deserved. But, Jake only undid his buckle, before moving on to his zipper.

As he began to unzip his zipper, he continued, "I suppose I spoil you. I let you get away with everything and now, its coming back to bite me in the ass." He huffed and pulled his boxers down just enough to let his cock spring upwards against his still-clothed stomach. "Figures." Then, he nodded to you, "Go ahead and suck on it, sweetheart."

You complied a small glare. You wanted to be sure Jake knew where you stood: you weren't ready to let your rebellion die, just yet. You chose to tease him, delivering tiny kitten licks and soft kisses along his shaft. His hand settled into your hair, this time, at the crown of your head. Not yet pulling, just resting. Then, he jerked his hips upward; a clear signal.

So, you conceded and suckled the tip into your mouth. You wanted to draw it out, you wanted to be slow and to tease him until he was taking what he wanted, but the heat between your legs and the need settling into your stomach already had you feeling dizzy. So, you did as you were expected to do.

You relaxed--your mouth, your throat, your shoulders--and took him deeper. You swirled your tongue along his shaft as he went, getting him all wet and warm and sloppy. You didn't mind giving a messy blowjob here and there; you knew Jake had always delighted in watching you let loose your inhibitions to please him.

He hummed, sinking a bit deeper into the armchair. "That's it."

You got to work, then, and began to bob your head. Jake's fingers tightened in your hair and he took control, fucking into your mouth in quick, rough thrusts. It wasn't long before he was hitting the back of your throat, and you couldn't control the noises coming from your mouth, and tears were streaming from your eyes, and drool was slick on your chin. You clung mindlessly to his thighs as you willingly--eagerly--took it. He was making an utter mess out of you and taking great pleasure in doing so. It made your stomach coil in the most depraved way.

Jake's obscene noises and curses were falling so freely and he was so hot and heavy in your mouth that you thought you were going to feel his release rush down your throat any second. You readied yourself for it, taking a breath and opening your throat as far as your body would allow you. But he stopped, pulling you off his cock with a rattling inhale. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, a little smirk playing on your lips as you awaited his words.

"Bend over the bed, darling," he directed, his voice steady, despite the orgasm he had just denied himself. He was still so collected, it was beginning to frustrate you. You wanted to tear down the walls of his stony composure and suffer the consequences.

So, you petulantly refused him, "No. I wanna ride you, tonight."

He huffed a cocky laugh. "Do you really think I care about what you want tonight? I don't know if you've noticed, but you're in trouble, sweetheart. So, if I were you--" He set an elbow atop his knee and leaned down, his nose just barely brushing against yours. "--I'd do as you're told."

You closed the distance and kissed him so hard it nearly hurt. Jake, ever-so frustratingly tolerant of your defiance, pushed you apart with a firm hand at the base of your throat. You surged forward, trying to connect your lips, again. His grip tightened, not enough to cut off your breath but certainly enough to put a stop to your squirming. You let out a pitiful, frustrated noise. He wasn't relenting to you, and you were growing desperate.

"Come on, Jake," you tried. You wanted to come off as alluring, but instead, your voice only came out in a breathy whine. He was surely winning your game, now. Still, you gave it one last ditch effort and continued on, "Let loose. I know you're frustrated, I know you wanna come. Fuck me, baby, fuck me, please..." you trailed off, realizing you had dissolved into begging him.

Your insolent undertaking had been derailed.

"Are you done?" Jake asked, his voice gentle. "Are you going to be sweet for me?"

Bowing your head, you nodded.

"Good girl. Go bend over the bed, now. Spread your legs all nice and wide for me, okay?"

You stood, making your way to the bed and sinking into the downy comforter. You did as he said, hinging at the hips and opening your thighs as widely as you could. Your breath hitched as the cool air swept across your exposed core. You were so wet, you were sure the insides of your thighs had to be glistening.

You heard shuffling from behind you and you knew Jake was undressing, but you dared not turn your head and catch a glimpse. As much as you loved looking at his beautiful figure, you didn't want to make any movements that weren't permitted. You just needed to be fucked, and you knew the quickest was to get there was through obedience.

Moments later, you felt the warmth of Jake's body behind you. His fingers trailed tauntingly up your thigh, and then through the folds between your legs, pulling a shocked whimper from your throat. He stroked over your clit, once, and then twice, before drawing back completely. You gave a pitiful whine.

"Oh, poor thing," he purred. "You're so wet. You need my cock, don't you? Tell me," he punctuated his sentence with a brisk slap to the back of your thigh.

"Yes!" You gasped, back arching, even though the impact had hardly even stung. "Need your cock so bad. Jakey, please, please."

"You listen so well when you want to," he praised. He took hold of your hips, his grip so firm it ached. Your breathing began to pick up; you were so close to getting what you had been wanting. You fought to keep your hips from bucking into his and nuzzled your face into the duvet. So close, so close...

It was like a divine blessing when he finally slipped inside of you. He buried himself to the hilt in a harsh thrust, causing you to let out a squeak muffled by the bedding. It was everything you had been gagging for all night. He was warm, firm, and filling you up so, so pleasingly. The instant pleasure was breathtaking; he was breathtaking.

Jake wasted no time building up a punishing rhythm. He moved your body as he pleased, pulling your hips back as he drove forward and slammed into you so forcefully, you could hear the slapping of your skin. Warmth had already begun to spread throughout your stomach, and he had hardly even started.

You were sure you looked pathetic; clawing at the bed and arching your back and mewling like you couldn't quite control yourself. You didn't care, you couldn't. Not when the only thing that mattered was Jake's cock, stroking your walls and hitting all the right spots that neither your fingers nor any toys could ever reach.

Your hips had begun to ache from the force of his thrusts and it was only serving to drag you closer to the edge. Oh, how filthy you were. Noises were tumbling more freely from your lips, high-pitched moans and curses and needy keens that only served to spur Jake on.

Then, he began to talk, his voice deep and ragged and nearing breathless, "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked stupid?"

You nodded with a broken whimper.

Jake gave a breathy chuckle. "You're so cock-drunk, my love, you can hardly form sentences. How endearing."

It was all over, then.

"I'm gonna come, Jake," you moaned. "Let me come."

"Beg for it, my darling."

With that, Jake halted his movement. With one hand remaining on your hip to keep you from bucking your hips backwards, Jake took hold of your hair and pulled, tossing your head back. You let out a pitiful whine, your eyebrows tipping up in the middle. Without question or hesitance, you obeyed him.

"Please, baby, please."

"More."

"I'm so-so fucking close, please. I need it."

"More."

Tears formed in your eyes and your pushed yourself up on shaky arms, turning your head just enough for Jake to watch the mascara begin to run down your cheeks as you pleaded with him.

"I need it- I need it so bad. I need you, Jake. I just wanna come, please."

"Come on," Jake urged. "Beg like you mean it, pretty girl."

"Please, Jakey," you sobbed, your chest aching with need. "I'm sorry I teased you and-and I'm sorry I was a brat. I didn't mean it. Let me come, pleasepleasepleaseplease--"

Jakes thrusts started nearly as suddenly as they had stopped. He praised you, rubbing your hips with gentle hands as he did, "Good girl, sweetheart. That's what I wanted to hear." One of his hands wandered downwards and tucked itself between your legs, fingers immediately circling atop your clit. "You can cum, my love. Whenever you're ready."

As soon as you were given his permission, you came. Your body trembled and you cried out, your back arching into the waves of pleasure overtaking your body. Jake worked you through it, his fingers on your clit and his thrusts unrelenting. His movements were begging to become feverish and sloppy and his cock was twitching rousingly inside of you. You knew he was hauling himself towards his peak just as desperately as you had been moments before. Then, he tripped over the edge, draping himself over your back and shooting deep inside, his release coating your walls. The warmth of it forced a whimper from your throat.

For a moment, the room was still. You and Jake laid there entwined, your chests heaving and the sounds of your pants bouncing on the walls. Neither of you made any effort to move. You couldn't, not with the tiredness settling into your limbs, nor with Jake's weight pressing you into the mattress. I grounded you, easing you back into reality as you both came down from your highs.

You don't know how long you laid there for, but when Jake finally pushed himself up and gingerly slid his now-softened cock out, you wished you could stay a little while longer. He helped you up with gentle hands and as soon as you were able, you fell into his arms. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and he lifted a hand to your hair, stroking soothingly and flattening unruly pieces.

"Let's get in the shower, yeah?"

You nodded, although you didn't actually make any move to do so. But eventually, Jake was able to get you into the bathroom and under the steamy spray of the shower head. You and Jake were spent and sore, but you worshipped each other once more, lathering each other's bodies with tender hands and working shampoo into the others hair. And when you were all done, you fell into bed and he pulled you close to his chest, murmuring praises into your hair until you drifted off.

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #danny wagner #gvf #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #jake kiszka fanfic #jake gvf #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka smut #greta van fic #greta van smut #greta van fleet fic

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ragnviindrz · 2 years ago

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curiosity. / abyss herald enjou x f!reader.

info: you've known enjou for awhile, traveling enkanomiya with him.. when he shows you his true form, the two of you get a little nasty..

this content includes: monsterfucking, consensual sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), doggy style, creampie, porn without plot, i swear this is NOT crack smut but theres some humour ig, his pp has spikes 😃, kinda public fucking, ass slapping, reader can be read as traveler or not, aftercare and kinda fluff at the end.

note: thank you so much for requesting this and thank you for being my first follower @stygianoir :) (p.s. i tried..😭 hopefully its okay)

Travelling with Enjou into Enkanomiya has been quite fun, he was friendly and talkative so nothing felt awkward, despite the growing sexual tension between the two of you.

Despite this, you stayed shy and kept to yourself, afraid of making the first move. Though, it was only when he revealed his true identity— as an Abyss Herald was when you chose to make your first move.

"Can you fuck me like that?" Was the first thing you said, taking him by surprise.

Which was how you probably ended up in this situation, bent over as your hands gripping the pillar as he thrust his hot cock inside you. It was hard to pull out, due to the barbs on his cock.

You covered your mouth, as tears ran down your face in pleasure. Your eyes were rolling back, whilst he gently gripped your hair as he practically pounded your pussy.

"I admit, you look really good like this." He groaned in your ears, planting a quick kiss to your cheek whilst he slapped your ass.

He grabbed your hand, taking it off your mouth. "I want you to keep moaning for me, I love all the little noises you make for me.." He whispered, pausing with a gasp, "So keep making them for me."

His grip on your waist got tighter, signaling his incoming orgasm. Despite that, his thrusts were still rough and fastpaced, just like how he liked it.

"Can you feel that? I'm close.. Mhh..." He moaned in your ear. "Do you want me to cum inside you? Beg for it."

And you do. You beg for it, opening your mouth despite the moans and gasps exiting your mouth. "Please... Enjou. Mhh.. Please, cum inside me. I need it."

That was all that was said, before he shoved all of his cock inside - and spilled his hot cum inside you in ribbons, painting your insides white.

That was all you remember before you blacked out, and woke up back in the camp you two have set up.

You were cleaned up, and dressed up as you laid inside the tent with a blanket ontop of you.

After 2 minutes, he enters the tent with a plate of food, and some water.

"I hope I didn't hurt you too bad, after the bruises I gave you by accident.."

With a chuckle, you responded. "No, I liked it. It was really hot."

"Does this mean we're together?" You asked, as you ate the food he prepared - after the exhaustion of being fucked into oblivion settled on you.

"Yeah. I love you." A smile was on his lips as he said that.

thank you for requesting!

#genshin impact smut #tw.monsterfucking #genshin impact #genshin fluff #enjou #genshin enjou #enjou x reader #enjou smut #the thing calling itself enjou #genshin npc #thank you for requesting!

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madangel19 · 29 days ago

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Ghostober Day 12: Bondage/Exhibition

Pairing: Mountain/Swiss and featuring Copia

Summary: Swiss faces the consequences after getting caught stealing Mountain's slut weed

Contains: Plant bondage, exhibition, suspension, anal sex, jerking off, drug use, outdoor sex

Kinktober prompt list by @kroas-adtam and you guys can also read this on Ao3!

Word Count: 666 (lol nice)

“How many times have I told you not to steal from greenhouse 4/20, Swiss?” Mountain growled, his arms crossed as he looked up at the multi ghoul.

Swiss was suspended above the garden entrance by multiple vines. His arms were tied behind his back and his legs spread wide for all to see. Several big vines were wrapped around his stomach and his chest, giving him tight squeezes every few moments. He had been suspended like this multiple times, but never out in public. This was certainly new, but he was enjoying it so far.

“I think this was the tenth time, Mount. I honestly lost count,” Swiss chuckled.

“Fifteen times too many. You never fucking learn, Swiss. Hopefully staying up there will help you think about your actions and serve as a warning to others,” Mountain said before taking out a joint and lighting it between two fingers. Swiss could already smell it and groaned. It was Mountain’s prized slut weed. He had been wanting a hit of it for so long. Just a few hits could have him going for hours.

“You know…Uh…Mount…Other people are going to see me like this,” Swiss said, wanting to take his mind off the smell of weed.

“They sure will. Why don’t we give them a show,” Mountain said, touching a vine on a pillar. It moved on its own and snaked toward Swiss. The end of it looked like any normal vine, but in seconds, it changed form and looked more dick-shaped.

“Oh no,” Swiss murmured as it wrapped around his leg and snaked behind him. It had been a while since Mountain fucked him like this.

“Oh yes,” Mountain crowed, pulling over a chair and sitting. He took another drag from his joint and looked to the side. Swiss followed his gaze and saw Copia walking down the archway with a gaggle of siblings trailing behind him.

“Perfect timing,” Mountain chuckled.

The cool sticky vine prodded at Swiss’s hole before pushing its way in, slick with dew. Swiss cried out, struggling against the vines. They only tightened around him, preventing him from making another move.

“Ah, hello there, Mountain. What’s that sound-Cazzo! What are you doing?” Copia exclaimed once he walked into view. The siblings gasped and crowded behind him, watching everything with wide eyes.

“Punishing Swiss. He tried to steal my weed and now he’s facing the consequences. Feel free to watch if you want,” Mountain said, gesturing for them to come forward.

Copia stared up at Swiss slack jawed before he shook his head and turned to the siblings.

“Ah…Well…You see here, siblings. Mountain doesn’t like it when we steal, so it’s important to always ask him for anything. Same thing goes for the other ghouls. Never do them wrong and…ehehe…you won’t end up like Swiss up there,” Copia explained.

“It…It’s not too…Ah! Not too bad. You…You get used…used to it,” Swiss moaned, tears of pleasure welling up in his eyes. Another vine snaked toward him and wrapped around his cock, jerking him off roughly.

The siblings were whispering amongst themselves before the smallest one stepped forward and lightly tapped Mountain on the shoulder.

“Yes, dear?” Mountain asked, never taking his gaze off of Swiss.

“Can I have some of your weed, Mountain? I heard it’s good,” she asked.

“Of course you can, dear. You did so good asking so nicely. Hopefully our friend up there can ask nicely later,” Mountain said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small plastic bag filled with weed. He handed it to the sibling who looked at it in wonder and the other siblings crowded around her, chattering amongst themselves.

“I was going to give that to Swiss, but he’ll have to wait,” Mountain chuckled, winking at Swiss playfully.

“You’re evil,” Swiss moaned.

He was about to say something else before another vine wrapped around his mouth. He glared down at Mountain who took another long drag from his joint.

“Hush and enjoy the ride.”

#the band ghost #ghost band #nameless ghouls #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swissalps #swiss x mountain #papa emeritus iv #papa copia #ghostober 2024 #ghostober #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #fanfiction #ghost fanfiction

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thesovereignsring-if · 1 year ago

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She hides it well, but there is a softness in her usually hard topaz gold eyes. There is a wistfulness to her and something else- something more vulnerable and precious.

Wordcount: 2.3k+

It's out! This monster that has consumed my life and every waking thought for the past few days. (T﹏T`) This started out as a funny and simple idea that ran away from me and that's how we got here. Honestly it's kind of spoilery and I honestly don't know if I'm releasing it too early or not, but I don't care!! Take this horrid plot bunny and enjoy it. I'll answer any questions to the best of my abilities without spoilers! It's angsty to me because I've been with these characters from the beginning, but I have no idea how you guys will take it lmaoo.

AO3 Link

Yearning

Nephilim Palace is easy to infiltrate if one knows her deepest secrets- and he knew all of them. The traveler spent a few of his boy years running through Nephilim’s hidden passageways.

He’s dressed in a navy blue uniform with gold tassels, white trousers and brown boots. The standard issue attire for imperial officers. He had swiped the uniform years ago and still manages to fit into them today. Like all things in the empire- nothing changed. So no one had batted an eye when he slipped into the palace and joined the bustling rush of knights, officers and servants. It helps that his figure has not changed much over the years. He takes care of himself.

The empress is in the gardens, which is strange for her. Maeve never had a love or interest in such frivolous things like flowers- well, except for standing next to them to enhance the beauty of the garden with her presence. She is vain in that way. But it was endearing.

Today however, the traveller thinks that is not the case. Today, the gold tiara she typically wears is not sitting on her pretty head.

Maeve is dressed in a simple white blouse and trousers. Her thick blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail,reminiscent of her days as a Shield Maiden. It’s been five years since Maeve Nibel Astrea ascended the throne and during that time, that stylish chair with the fancy cushion had not softened her slender, but toned figure. In her fitting attire, the traveler could admire the hard curve of her biceps, the slope of her thighs- and, of course, her shapely, supple round ass. Yes, she was still every bit the warrior queen she was when they had first met. She takes care of herself too.

She is leaning against a stone pillar draped in a swirling mess of vines with her back facing him. The traveller can tell she is fiddling with something in her hands and is getting frustrated, tapping the toe of her boot against the marble tiles incessantly.

Curious, the traveler leans over her shoulder.

“Aren’t you a bit too old to play with teddy bears?” He says.

“Spite the Herald!” The empress jumps and swerves around to face him, slapping his chest at the sight of him. “Lugh!” Maeve rasps, looking absolutely winded and ravishing. “By the Light of the Alfather- what are you doing here?”

Lugh shrugs his shoulders with a wolfish grin, “I got your missive a fortnight ago and decided to visit.”

Maeve cocks a brow, “aren’t you supposed to be running your own kingdom, Lugh?”

“Is that not what my wives are for?”

“Last I recall, your job is to ensure they don’t kill each other.”

“Well,they do get along when left alone in their own territories,” the king chuckles, “they can play nice for a full moon's turn…I think?”

Maeve juts her hip out crossing her arms, “that sounds very reassuring, Lugh.”

“Humor me, Maeve. I traveled all the way here by boat thinking you’d like a shoulder to lean on. Let’s not think of civil war invoking hypotheticals,” Lugh laughs, guiding the empress away to a nearby bench in the shade. It’s behind a large bush of hydrangeas. Here they can have some time together away from curious eyes.

Lugh pulls out the heavy wooden basket from behind his back, tugging back the lid, revealing an assortment of small fruits, cheese and most importantly Brigian Wines- her favourites.

“I wouldn’t necessarily say this is an occasion worth celebrating,” Maeve says dryly as Lugh hands her a cup of wine. She swirls the glass, raising the rim to her nose so she could smell its sweet and fruity aroma. “I’m not as active as I used to be, Lugh. I’m going to get fat eating all this.”

“Live a little, Maeve. A little cheese isn’t going to kill you. I’ll get you to work it off afterwards.” Lugh chuckles warmly as Maeve rolls her eyes, murmuring something akin to real smooth, Lugh.

Together, the king and empress enjoy the silence of the garden and Lugh’s basket of goodies. At some point, Lugh decides it was time to break the silence. He hums, plucking a grape from the basket and dropping into his mouth. “Murder or natural causes?” He asks.

There is a thoughtful pause before she speaks, “Neither, surprisingly enough. ” Maeve stares grimly off into the distance, “she took it herself.”

Lugh nearly winces as the acidic sweet-sour wine splashes on his tongue. “Shit,” the king swears, turning to his companion, “Ledea had kids, didn’t she?”

Maeve nods mutely, “the youngest one is but a babe. Five years old.” Lugh’s heart sinks. Thea, one of his own babes was five years old as well. She was a precious thing. “And the eldest turned thirteen last fall.”

“The cripple?” The king asks, recalling Prince Vayne's eldest child.

“Yes,” Maeve nods, sipping her wine. “He has a good head on his shoulders- he had everything under control by the time I got there.

Which is impressive for a child. He was running the duchy and taking care of the little one with great ease. He had assistance from his retainers and the middle child, of course, but he was more put together than I expected. I was impressed. The little one was clinging to him the entire time I was there.”

There is a sweet wistfulness to Maeve’s voice, a tone Lugh doesn’t hear much from the usual high and mighty empress.

Lugh’s eyes wander to her thighs, which are supple, but tone with muscle and stare at the flimsy brown teddy bear. Looks like an old thing, a relic from Maeve’s childhood that she must have loved dearly. It’s barely holding together at the seams. The thread looks frayed and ratty, but Lugh can see the glossy shine to the new thread she was attempting to sew in. The stitch work was pitiful at best; uneven and slanted in every direction. Spirits, she was terrible at needle work.

“Is that why you were fixing up that little bear?” Lugh asks kindly, stifling a chuckle with his hand,”are you planning to send it to the babe?”

Maeve shoots him a dirty glare as her cheeks turn pink. She’s so pretty. Then takes the teddy bear and hides it behind her back, away from his line of sight. She squirms in her spot. “I’m not sending Joseph anywhere. He’s going to be a gift. The children are coming to the capital to stay with me.”

Oh, that was a surprise. “All three of them?” Lugh blinks, “and the Duchy is fine with their new lord living so far from home?”

“I’m not going to separate the children after their mother died and I wasn’t very keen on the idea of having them away from family,” Maeve says hotly, furrowing her brows. “Look. I may hate Ledea, but I’m not going to let my blood suffer so far away from me. They’re all wards to the Crown now, so I can do as I please. I’d like to see anyone try to stop me.”

Lugh could relate. His little brood of children stayed with their mothers, but they were never far from his reach, they were, at most, a day's worth of travel from the castle.

But there are more Maeve’s words than just that, Lugh realizes, watching the empress as she sips her wine with flushed cheeks. She hides it well, but there is a softness in her usually hard topaz gold eyes. There is a wistfulness to her and something else- something more vulnerable and precious. A softness he’s only seen under the soft glow of candlelight.

Lugh chuckles to himself, feeling a sharp tug in his gut. He understands what it is. It draws Maeve’s attention, but he says nothing. Instead, he reaches into his basket, pulls out a round pomegranate and cracks it in two, presenting a bountiful cluster of bright red and juicy seeds. The king takes a ruby seed and rolls it between his index finger and thumb before slipping it into his mouth and crushing it against the roof of his mouth with his tongue.

It tastes bittersweet.

Lugh swallows. “You know, I could have given you a babe years ago if that’s what you really wanted.”

“The only babe I’ll ever have would belong to my lord husband,” Maeve says quietly, averting her eyes the moment they met his, but in that brief moment, one no shorter than a breath, Lugh saw a flash of pain behind her golden eyes.

Lugh drags his tongue along the blunt rim of his teeth, revelling in the sour-sweetness of the pomegranate. “Your great Empire would never tolerate their empress being one of many wives to a foreign king,” Lugh shakes head, his lips straining to smile. “Well, you never liked sharing to begin with.”

“I wouldn’t have been your first choice anyway- and more than sharing, I hate being second place,” Maeve says quietly. It stabs him like a hot knife to the chest. He hates hurting her. He’d rather claw his eyes out before any harm comes to her first.

But…he could not deny it. Horrible as it may sound. He loved Giselle, she left an imprint on his heart that no one could usurp, but that did not mean his feelings for Maeve were any less than true. Giselle was gone. Their time together was over. And yet, her ghost still sits between them.

“…Perhaps in another life, where we met and married first, we’d have our own gaggle of children to coddle- but that’s not reality,” Maeve says, throwing her head back and downing her glass of wine in one go. When she finishes she sets the glass aside and plucks a few seeds from Lugh’s pomegranate and tosses them into her mouth.

That’s a surprise, Lugh thought. The pomegranate was for him. Maeve usually had no taste for tart and sour things.

“I don’t know what it means to be a mother,” Maeve says to the sky, rising to her feet with her teddy bear in hand. “Mine died giving birth to me. I have no real frame of reference- but I want…I want to try. Ledea’s little babe…When I first laid on them, I never thought I’d ever feel this way towards someone else in my life. There’s a connection, a pull that I can’t help but feel.” Then she sighs, looking down at the ratty teddy bear. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to replace Ledea as a mother…but if I could be there or look after the children in her place…I think that will be enough.”

“You’ll be a good mother,” Lugh says firmly, setting the fruit aside to stand next to her, cupping her face, flushed and rosy from wine, with his hands. “Even if the children won’t say it to your face, even if they ignore your efforts or appreciate you. I know you, Maeve. That child will know nothing, but love.”

“...You’re not angry with me?” She asks softly. Her gold eyes flickering with a soft, fragile light. Her voice is so small…

It hurts. It hurts so much he feels like drowning. There is nothing Lugh wants more than a child with her gold woven hair and sparkling topaz eyes. A babe with her bright, all consuming smile.. but Lugh’s made his peace. He’ll take whatever she gives him and he’ll accept it gladly because it’s better than not having her at all. That would be death.

“I’ll love any child of yours, Maeve,” he says instead. And that is the truth. “Even if it’s not a babe of my own. I’ll love it. I won’t be able to physically be there every step of the way, but my spirit, my light, will be with you, my love. I mean it.”

Her lips taste bitter, tart and sweet all at once and he doesn’t mind. Such is life. He swallows it all without protest and if he drowns he’d welcome it gladly. There is no place he’d rather be than right here, with her in his arms.

When they part her golden eyes are shimmering with a hint of tears, but her smile is brighter than the sun. Then she laughs, bright and fluttery, then pries his hands from her cheeks. “Your hands are sticky! I’m going to get pimples, Lugh!”

“You’d still be pretty, don’t worry,” Lugh apologies with a small smile on his face as she smacks his arm in protest. He’s glad that she’s happy. It’s all he’d ever wanted for her. Perhaps with the children with her, Maeve will be less lonely in the palace. Nephilim was a lonely place to live alone.

“Come on, let’s go inside and wash up, then maybe you can put me to work like you promised,” Maeve says coyly, tucking the teddy bear away in one hand and reaching for his own hand with the other.

“So soon, Maeve?” Lugh asks, “it’s hardly midday and there’s still so much food to eat. I don’t think there’ll be a lot to work off. ”

“I’ve had my fill. And…I’ve missed you,” Maeve confesses with a bashful, hooded stare.

Ah, well, Lugh is definitely not going to argue against that.

The king takes the empress’s hand, enjoying the way her slender fingers wrap around his own and takes the heavy basket in the other. He likes the way her thick head of hair feels on his shoulder and how her smile lifts his heart.

They leave towards the palace hand in hand. Lugh wonders what the servants and the guards will think when they see him dressed in a simple officer’s uniform. There is no way to hide his identity when he’s next to her. He thinks it’ll be funny.

“Oh! That reminds me,” Maeve pipes up, “the little one’s birthday is coming up in a few moons. If it’s not too much trouble, I was thinking…”

#tsr #The Sovereign’s Ring #the sovereign's ring: Sidestory #side story #twine wip #twine if #interactive fiction #maeve #the empress #Lugh #the king

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marsipaniscool · 6 months ago

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freaking stares at you with my big disgustint glowing red eyes. kars headcanons about little habits he has. (please.)

hes a freak animal underneath all of the grace and beauty. semi unrelated but i firmly believe he did NOT have a good relationship with his parents i can smell it.

CRUNCHES THIS IN MY MOUTH BTWWWWW

Kars has a few little quirks and habits that I love thinking about. In particular, I see him having the nervous habit of pulling his hair. He’s sat at his desk, deep in thought about his latest experiment, fingers mindlessly twirling and pulling at strands in frustration. Queue even more frustration at the resulting damage, and that leads him to his other nervous habit, counting out numbers. Whenever Kars finds himself under stress, he counts the seconds he takes to accomplish any task, tapping his knuckle against his thigh as he does so. It finds it calms him and grounds him.

Apart from nervous habits, I can see Kars being very vigilant of his surroundings. He’s always checking over his shoulder, if he’s not already in a position where he can see every entrance and exit. He’s constantly keeping a headcount too. Can also see him sighing a lot as a vocal habit, poor man is constantly annoyed and stressed.

With ULF Kars, I LOVE the idea that the longer he embodies certain creatures, the more he becomes like them. For example, extended time with wings leads him to almost squawk and chirp at things, he would also cock his head side to side when looking at things. Also love the idea of him starting to groom his fellow pillar men when he’s like this. He’s super fussy about appearances in the first place, making Esi and Wham dorn something plum in honour of him, but adding the instinctual bird grooming aspect? he’s a nightmare. someone save Wham because he can’t tell Kars to stop.

OH YEAH KARS REEKS OF PARENT ISSUES. in my little hc world, kars’ parents were involved with science and gave him the avenue to get started on his super crazy acupuncture. however, i always think child Kars asked faux pas and taboo questions, which reflected poorly on his parents. Poor baby was too curious for his own good. Honestly have been thinking about him slipping away from the underground caverns and trying to wander in the sun against everyone’s wishes. Cue a massive freak out from the tribe, he was likely the only child at the time so EVERYONE was worked up. I also think that Kars's mother was the main, if not only, disciplinary figure in Kars's life for a long time, leading to a deep resentment of women. All of his punishments were at her hand, and I don't see communication being any of the pillarmen's strong suits. Naturally a deep deep divide happened between a very curious child whos been spoiled endlessly, perhaps even having behavioural issues, and parents who expected a blank slate doll of a child who would do exactly what they wanted whenever. I also think that when Kars was really ramping up his experiments on the masks, but pre pillar tribe massacre, he experimented on his and Esidisi's parents bc "they're the closest genetic matches to us!"

Kars Lastname my beloved tar pit of a man <3

#THANK U THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN #literally sat down and wrote this in one go HOOO #love kars btw #jjba #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojos bizarre adventure #battle tendency #jjba headcanons #kars #kars headcanons #pillar men #pillar men headcanons

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senka-mesecine · 1 month ago

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This may sound weird but I live for Barnes tormenting Chris, could you maybe write something where Barnes is interested in Chris’ s/o other? I think Barnes is def a woman stealer in a “I’m a superior man and can and will win/take your woman from you”

Fire Eater.

Chris Taylor x Indirect!Reader x Robert Barnes.

In the grand scheme of things, Barnes believed that to the victor go the spoils.

It was a notion as old as time itself --- the stronger man gets the land, the resources, the guns, the buildings, the women, so he tended not to see this as homewrecking. Rather, he tended to see it as an act of providence. Things being the way they were supposed to be. Not that he enjoyed being a fucking philosopher, the basic truths of life were just as straight as that, with him or without him.

He just so happened to be here to enforce them if they needed enforcing.

The Taylor boy wasn't grown up enough to keep his boot laces in check most days least of all you, so if someone happened to swoop in and take him from you it was really his own doing for not protecting his own not anyone else's. This is an idea Bob muses on, holding your picture between his thumb and his index finger the same way he would've done to a cigar, waiting for Taylor and knowing fully well the boy's gonna run into him holding you. Just as anticipated, he does, never expecting to find him there. -"See, ya'll volunteered for this war."- Barnes allows himself to quip, speaking in plural as if there was more than one person next to Chris once the kid barges into him in the bunker in the dark. -"Ain' nobody drafted'ya."- He drawls leisurely, moving from where he was leaning on, on a wooden pillar holding the underground bunker up, right next to the boy's bunk through which he rummaged through to find you in the first place. -"Ain' nobody called'ya out here."- Bob allows himself to cock his head to one side, strolling at a relaxed pace, doing circles around the circumference of the bunker and by extension, doing ecliptical rounds around Taylor who was watching, observing his fingers tapping your picture, too stunned for words. Cat got his tongue, apparently. -"You came here all on your own, thinkin' 'bout makin' some sort of grand ol' statement or other."- Bob remarks, halting in front of the boy. Face to face. Pulling out a cigarette from the pocket of his cargo pants along with a catch and deciding to light one, taking his sweet time too.

-"Left this lil' angel all by her lonesome."-

Bob taps his finger on the surface of the picture once more once the cigarette's lit and safely lodged between his lips, blowing the smoke in Taylor's general direction, to add final insult to injury. Part of him hoped the boy would snap and try to take back what's his but the fact he didn't only made him respect him even less. Pretty girls needed real men; not green-nosed, green-boned children with delusions of grandeur. If he ever rotated back into the World, Barnes had a clear image whose door he'd knock on first in ways he didn't before Taylor joined this platoon and gave him the rare inspiration.

-"Hey, motherfucker, give that back."-

Taylor demands, extending his hand with one set of fingers coiled into a fist like he was about to get confrontational, further shocked by Bob pressing the polaroid against the burning filter of his cigarette without warning, leaving a searing spot stark in the middle of your face and holding you close until the edge of your picture lit up in flames.

-"Now I'm makin' a statement too, boy."-

He mocks and chides, scrunching your image in his bare hands, flames caressing the palms of his hands, setting aside his cigarette for a moment and opening his mouth to receive the crumple of ash and fire, placing it on his tongue and swallowing, never taking his eyes off of Taylor. With one dedicated gulp, he quite literally swallows your picture. If there was ever to be a declaration of war over the boy throwing in his side with Elias, this was it. Barnes simply walks past a wide-eyed, befuddled seeming Taylor, as if their conversation consisted of nothing weightier than the daily weather conditions.

-"If you want her you'll be needin' to carve her outta my gut."-

Is the last thing Barnes decides to say, climbing up to the surface from the Underworld.

He would have you.

Was just a matter of time when.

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ourtearsofrain · 4 months ago

Text

All Of Me (J.M.K/O.C) (Save a Horse Universe)

Summary: As their relationship develops, Austin knows that he needs to tell Josh a key aspect of his identity; but every time he tries, his nerves take over, afraid of losing him. He’s finally “forced” into the perfect opportunity as Josh gets handsy after their date, pushing aside his fears to tell him.

Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Male O.C.

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: discussions of negative experiences with past partners in relation to gender identity, brief explanation of biological sex anatomy from a trans man, crying, smoking/drinking wine, oral (M receiving), vaginal penetration (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, praise

A/N: This new addition to the SAHRAC Uni takes place fairly early on into their relationship, so a little after Salty Dogs, Anyone? (That being said, this is a fic within an established universe, so it definitely helps if you read at least Ride a Cowboy and Salty Dogs, Anyone? beforehand)

I wanted to wrap pride month up with this, I hope everyone had a very good, very gay June. Remember the first pride was a riot, led by trans women of color; trans people are and have always been a core pillar of our history in the fight for equal rights.

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“Good afternoon, darlin’.”

“Hey baby, how are you?” Austin closes his front door behind himself, clicking the lock into place as he resists the urge to grin at the pet name. Even after having been “official” for nearly two weeks, he still got butterflies at each little name Josh had bestowed upon him.

He slots his hand into Josh’s before offering him a ‘hello’ kiss, beginning their short walk towards the Saturday Market that they never missed. “Been doin’ alright. Doin’ even better now. How about you?”

“I’m good, and excited. I can’t wait to show you how to make that Basil and Pesto Pasta recipe. I swear to god, it’s the best thing you’ll ever eat.”

Austin cocks an eyebrow at him, amused at his enthusiasm and continuous claims of just how good this dish was. “Is that a promise?”

“You fucking bet it is. If you don’t like it, then… ok, I’m not exactly sure what’ll happen if you don’t, but that doesn’t matter cause you’re gonna love it.”

“Mhm, right. So, what do we needa get for it today?”

“Uhhh hold on,” Josh pats his pockets frantically, shifting through everything he kept shoved in each until he pulls out a tattered scrap of paper. “We’ll need some fresh basil and asparagus, and maybe a fresh lemon and bunch of garlic. Hopefully that pasta vendor is set up, we need linguine too. The rest of the ingredients I already have, so that should do it.”

He slips the paper back into his pocket as the market comes into view, the vendors set up along the edge close enough that the smell of their fresh produce and baked goods wafted towards the men as they crossed the street. “Sounds fantastic already, darlin’. Great choice for a late lunch.”

“I know right! It’s amazing, you’ll see.”

“Lotta big talk from you, Kiszka; you’re playin’ a dangerous game by raisin’ my expectations like this.”

“Only talking it up cause I know you’ll love it. I’d like to think that I know you very well, Austin. If I do say so myself.”

Don’t know everything about me… Austin rubs at the back of his neck nervously, his eyes finding the ground. “I actually wanted to talk to you about somethin’-”

“Oh. My. God.”

Austin’s mind races at Josh’s reaction, completely uncaring that he had cut off what he wanted to be a serious conversation as he looks around them for whatever could have caused his interruption. “What?!”

Instead of responding, Josh darts away from Austin, headed straight for a flower stand as he barely even glances back in his eagerness. Finding his side, Austin quickly realizes exactly what had gotten Josh so excited as he picks up a bunch of daffodils, turning towards him with a lopsided grin full of nothing but love. “Your favorite, right?”

Oh my lord. How is one man so goddamn sweet? Austin’s slight frustration that had begun to grow completely melts away as Josh looks between him and the flowers, looking over each to make sure there were no imperfections or wilted petals. “It is, darlin’. You remembered?”

“Of course I did, wanted to know what flowers you liked so I can get them for you.”

Austin’s cheeks tint pink under Josh’s gaze, suddenly growing bashful. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to. No one ever get you flowers before?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Well, I’m changing that.” Josh leaves him before he can respond, quickly making his way over to the vendor and paying for the bundle as Austin can do nothing but watch him in awe. “These are for you.” He offers him that same grin as he hands them to Austin, his cheeks tinting in the soft midday light.

“You didn’t have to… but thank you, darlin’.”

“Of course. Now, I believe we are on a mission, although I will inevitably get sidetracked. Help me stay focused?”

“Sir yes sir.” Austin offers a weak salute as best he can with the hand holding the flowers, his other hand once again in Josh’s as they set off to find the ingredients they needed for their meal.

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“So, I’m gonna be honest, most of the ingredients were originally in grams so my recipe is a conversion, and more based on how much of something feels right.”

“I bake more than cook so imma letcha take the lead for this one, sound good?”

“Mhm. Don’t worry, I’m the oldest of 4, I’m good at bossing people around.”

Austin barks out a laugh as they set in on preparing the ingredients, Josh barely sparing a glance at his recipe as he had made the dish so many times that he nearly had it committed to memory, while Austin trails behind him waiting for instruction. It doesn’t take too long for them to finish, both men serving themselves up plates before meeting at Josh’s dinner table. Josh props his head up with his hands under his chin, eyes glued to Austin as he waits for him to try the fruit of their labors.

As Austin brings the forkful of pasta to his mouth and takes the first bite, Josh’s eyes go wide, his eyebrows slightly raising as he meets his gaze. “Oh-”

“Oh???”

“This is… this is fuckin’ fantastic. Holy shit, darlin’, you weren’t kiddin’.” Austin takes another large bite, having spent so much of his day devoted to cooking that he had forgotten to eat much else.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Amazing. See, I told you.” Josh grins wide at him before setting in on his own plate, both falling into a comfortable silence as they eat. When they finish, they work together to clean up their mess; all the while, Austin’s mind circles the conversation he had tried to have with Josh earlier, knowing that their time together would come to an end soon. Just as he’s thought he found the perfect way to bring it up, Josh’s voice captures his attention from the fridge as he cleans the last pan.

“Oh my god, I completely forgot. I got us a white wine to go with the pesto pasta. I guess I was so excited to make it that I overlooked it when grabbing ingredients.”

A small frown passes over Josh’s face as Austin dries his hands and meets him, taking the bottle from him to set it on the counter. “Aw, that’s alright, darlin’. I mean, it is almost five and I don’t have any other plans for the day. I can always stay here; we can watch a movie and crack this open.”

“Really?” His face lights up at the offer, already looking around to find a wine corkscrew and glasses.

“Of course. Is Jacob home though?”

“No, he’s at Sebastian’s. Why?” A mischievous look passes over his face as he glances over at Austin, his hands pausing on their way to the wine glasses stashed in the cupboard.

“Get your mind outta the gutter, Joshua.” Swatting him lightly, he finds the corkscrew and sets in on uncorking the bottle. “I was just askin’ cause I didn’t wanna disrupt him by watchin’ somethin’ in the livin’ room if he wanted to make dinner or have Sebastian over.”

“Mhmmm, right. That’s what they all say. But yeah, Jake spends most nights at Seb’s now, so I have the place to myself a lot of the time. No complaints here, I’d rather have them subject Sebastian’s neighbors to the sound of their… fun… instead of having to hear it myself.”

As he laughs lightly, anxiety creeps into his mind as Josh pours them both a glass before handing it to him and pulling him in the direction of the living room. “By the way, uh… I know we haven’t- we haven’t had like, sex sex. Like, you know we’ve had our fun, but we haven’t… gone all the way. Is that ok? I mean we have been together for like two weeks, and I know most people our age have- have done that with their partner by that mark.”

“Of course it is. I love sex, but I don’t want to do anything until you do. No pressure, ever. I’ll wait as long as you need, baby.” He offers one reassuring squeeze to his hand as they sit down on a couch before bringing his attention to the screen. “Alright, what movie we watching?”

“You’re gonna suggest Dirty Dancin’, aren’t you?”

“You know me so well. But we don’t have to if you’d prefer something else.”

“No, no, we can watch it, darlin’. Since you bought me flowers and cooked an amazing dinner for us, it’s your night to choose.”

“You’re the best.” Josh presses a kiss to his cheek before snuggling into his side, quickly queuing up Dirty Dancing as they both get comfortable.

--------------------------------------------------------

An hour and 30 minutes and half a bottle of wine later, both men watch the end credits roll as they giggle through their conversation, their cheeks red and bodies warm from the alcohol in their systems. “No, we are not tryin’ the Dirty Dancin’ lift.” Austin laughs out, trying his best to keep both his and Josh’s glasses from spilling. “Maybe when we haven’t gone through half a bottle of wine in barely over an hour. I don’t wanna drop you, darlin’.”

“Who say’s I’d be the one getting lifted?”

“You cannot lift me, I’m sorry but that ain’t happenin’.”

Josh frowns at his words, seemingly genuine disappointment washing across his features as he sets his wine glass down. “Why not?”

“Because for starters, I’m 5 inches taller’n you. And I weigh more than you. And like I said, we’ve had some wine.” Austin follows suit, setting his glass down before tucking himself back into the couch with Josh’s body pressed against his.

“So, you’re drunk?”

“I am not drunk, thank you very much. Tipsy, maybe. Not drunk though. You however…”

“Woah, woah, woah! I’m not drunk either! Like you said, tipsy, not drunk.”

“Right, sure.” Austin grins down at him, letting himself take in his gorgeous features in the dim lighting, his pupils blown wide as he looks up at him. “Why does it matter if you’re drunk or not?”

“Because I want to kiss you. And I want you to know that it’s consensual on my part, despite the little bit of wine. As long as it’s the same for you.” Something Austin can’t quite distinguish lurks under Josh’s tone, his voice low and calm as he blinks up at him. Austin’s breath hitches at the clear communication, not used to having a partner be so upfront about topics such as these.

“It’s the same for me, darlin’. I want to kiss you too.” Before he can say anything more, Josh leans forward to connect their lips in a hungry, passionate kiss, drinking Austin up as if he were dying of thirst. Losing themselves in each other, Austin doesn’t realize how quickly their kiss had become a heated make out session until Josh straddles him, slightly grinding the tent in his pants into Austin’s lower stomach. Fuck. I want to, he just- he doesn’t know. He might not want to have sex right now right now. Don’t jump the gun, just wait and see what happens.

Austin’s heart rate speeds as Josh’s hands find his sides, squeezing his body through the fabric before slipping them under his shirt, his warm hands ghosting across his skin. This is fine, it’s alright. Enjoy it, see what happens. Trying to stay focused on the moment and not wanting his own thoughts to distract him from enjoying himself, Austin tries to push his worries to the back of his mind as Josh’s fingertips trace the waistband of his boxers, toying with the hem. It isn’t until he dips the fingers of his right hand down into his boxers lower, beginning to brush the hair at the very bottom of his happy trail that Austin freezes, his body taking over in his panic.

“Stop.”

At the word, Josh immediately pulls his hand back before leaning away from him to create some distance between the two. “I’m sorry.” His face heats with shame as he moves to sit next to him hurriedly, his eyes looking everywhere but at Austin. “I should have asked, especially after our conversation earlier. I just got lost in the moment, but that’s no excuse.”

“I didn’t stop you because I don’t want to have sex with you, Josh.” Austin’s voice breaks slightly, causing Josh to tear his gaze towards him, his expression twisted with confusion.

“Then why-?”

Rip the band-aid off, Austin. Now or never. “I stopped you because I haven’t told you everything about myself, and I need to tell you before we take this any further.”

“What’s up, baby? You can tell me anything.” His eyebrows furrow in concern as he takes Austin’s hands in his own, his worry only growing as he tries to meet his eyes only to find them brimming with tears.

Austin finally meets his eyes, adrenaline coursing through his body as he takes a deep breath. “I’m trans, Josh. I’m a trans man. I wanted to tell you sooner, I was just worried. I know it’s unfair for me to spring this on you now when we’ve already been together for a bit, so if you- if you don’t want this now, us, I understand completely. Tell me to leave and I will. But I needed you to know I haven’t been puttin’ out because I don’t want to have sex with you, believe me, I do; I just- I’ve had top surgery, but not bottom, and I don’t plan to. Everythin’ you may have felt is just a packer, I just- I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Why would I not want to be with you anymore, Austin?” Josh doesn’t even miss a beat, his tone serious and quiet as he looks at him with sadness beneath his eyes.

“Because we haven’t really talked about what you identify as. It hasn’t been important, cause you and everyone else thought I was a cis man. I was blessed with bein’ tall, havin’ a small chest and more masculine features already, and I’ve been on T for nearin’ three years, so it ain’t like it’s ‘obvious’. If you have a preference for people with penises, I need you to know that that ain’t me. So, if you do, I won’t take it personally if you’d like to end this.”

“Do you want to end this?”

Austin blinks back tears, praying that Josh would give him some sign, any sign about what he was feeling. “No.”

“Then I don’t either.”

“You don’t?”

“Of course not. Austin, I don’t care that you’re trans.” Josh catches himself, realizing what he said and quickly backtracking. “I mean, obviously I do. It’s part of your identity, it’s part of who you are. But it’s not the only thing that makes you, you. And I’m queer, I like every identity, every genitalia, doesn’t matter to me. And even if I did identify as strictly ‘gay’, that wouldn’t change a goddamn thing. You’re my boyfriend, not having a biological male penis doesn’t make you any less of a man.”

Austin’s tears escape him as he lets Josh pull him into his chest, beginning to sob into his shirt as his hand comes up to gently cradle the back of his head, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back. “Oh, baby. Thank you for trusting me with this, I know how hard it can be to come out to people that are important to you. If I may ask, why were you so nervous?” Josh’s tone is gentle, making it clear to him that he didn’t have to share if he didn’t want to.

“I was afraid’a loosin’ you. I really, really, like you, Josh. I was afraid that you wouldn’t want me if you knew, I didn’t wanna go through that pain again.”

“Again?”

Nodding slightly against his chest, Austin sits up to look at him properly, finding it hard as he inevitably trains his eyes on his hands fidgeting in his lap. “Mhm. I’ve had guys ghost me or- get angry after findin’ out. Obviously, I knew you wouldn’t get angry or anythin’ like some have, I just- wasn’t ready to risk loosin’ you. It’s a bit selfish, I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me, please.” Josh’s hands move to cup his face, gently tilting his head to make him meet his gaze as he wipes stray tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “You do not need to apologize for your identity, or who you choose to disclose that information with. Ever. I completely understand, and I’m so sorry you’ve had those experiences. I’m not going anywhere, baby. I like you, all of you, and I want all of you. Everything that comes with it, alright?”

Despite the tears still pouring down his cheeks, Austin grins wide at Josh, his fears and worries evaporating from his mind at the genuine expression of care on his face and his sincere tone. “Alright. Thank you, darlin’.”

“Of course, baby.” Josh presses a kiss to his lips, still gently cradling his face before leaning back slightly and breaking it only to pepper kisses on the corners of his lips and across the skin of his cheeks, drawing a wet laugh from Austin. “Thanks again for telling me.”

Austin looks up at him through his lashes as Josh wipes the last of his tears away, still looking at him with the kindest expression he had ever seen. “Thanks for bein’ so supportive.”

“Always. Now, what do you want to do with the rest of the night? We can watch another movie if you’d like, or go out somewhere. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

Whatever I feel comfortable with? I mean I did- I still do want to- and now he knows and don’t seem to negatively care. “Anything?”

“Mhm, whatever you want.”

“I want you to show me just how much you want me.” Austin locks his eyes on Josh’s, seeing his pupils rapidly expand as the previous, charged energy between them returns. “All of me.”

Josh’s tongue flits out to wet his lips, his eyes dipping to Austin’s lips as his breath catches in his throat. “You sure?”

“Mhm. I did say I wanted to fuck you, didn’t I? Now that we have that conversation out of the way.”

As his hips jerk forward involuntarily, Josh tries to organize his thoughts into some response as his brain short-circuits, clearing his throat before speaking. “I believe the original statement was a little less vulgar.”

“Was it now?” Closing the distance between them, Austin brings his lips to Josh’s, one hand on his neck pulling him impossibly closer as the other slowly made its way up his thigh. Ghosting his hand over his bulge, Austin smiles against his lips as he feels Josh’s breath hitch, the faintest whimper escaping his lips as he tries to press himself up into his hand. To Josh’s dismay, Austin continues his path with his hand upwards, ignoring the whines of protest as his hand moves under his shirt to grip the soft skin of his sides. “Fancy takin’ this to the bedroom? I know Jacob ain’t here, but I’d feel bad if he walked in on somethin’; and I don’t think I could ever look anyone in the eyes again if I saw they sat on this couch after.”

As both lean back slightly, Austin opens his eyes to see Josh grinning at him, a light laugh leaving his pink, kiss-swollen lips. “That’s probably the smartest idea.” Getting up from the couch, they both grab their half-full glasses of wine as Josh eagerly leads Austin to his bedroom, closing the door behind them immediately after entering. Their hands find the other’s body the second they set their glasses down on Josh’s dresser, now empty and free to roam under each other’s shirts as Austin begins pushing Josh backwards towards his bed. Austin draws Josh’s shirt over his head before giving him one final shove, the action causing him to fall back onto the bed as he looks up at Austin, already breathless from anticipation.

He says nothing as he grins down at Josh mischievously, making sure his eyes were trained on him before he pulls his shirt off, throwing it to the side as Josh’s eyes darken. Closing the distance between them, Austin pushes Josh backwards until he’s laying on his back, slotting his leg in between his as their lips reconnect. The second Austin applies the slightest amount of downwards pressure with his thigh, Josh moans into his mouth, his hands tangling in his curls. With his lips still parted, Austin takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue across his bottom lip, his breath hitching as Josh immediately reciprocates, his own tongue snaking in between his teeth as he licks into his mouth breathlessly.

It isn’t long before Austin’s mouth leaves Josh’s, his lips ghosting across his neck and shoulder as he peppers kisses and soft bites across his skin. “What- what do you want to do?” Josh huffs the words out, as if speaking was a strain in his current state as he writhed under Austin.

“What do you mean, darlin’?”

“Like, do you- do you want to- oh fuck-” The end of his sentence transforms into a deep groan as Austin bites a sensitive spot on his neck, beginning to suck a hickey into the skin. “How do you want to fuck-? I have condoms, I’m down for whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Well.” Austin’s breath fans across his skin as his lips slow, still placing gentle kisses to his skin between words. “The way you were shovin’ that tongue in my mouth has me thinkin’ ‘bout what it’d feel like between my legs. If you want to.”

“Fucking hell.” Josh groans the words out at his sentence, his hips bucking involuntarily against Austin’s front, only sending another groan through him. “Of fucking course I want to.”

Bringing his mouth back up to Josh’s, he grins against his lips before flipping their positions, slowly leaning back as Josh moves to position his body between his legs. As Austin’s head hits a pillow, Josh begins his descent, slowly kissing a trail down his neck and across the expanse of his collarbones, leaving a path of deep red and purple marks as he continues to his chest. I’m about ten seconds from tellin’ him to hurry his ass up and stop teasin’ me if he don’t- His train of thought completely derails as Josh sinks his teeth into the soft skin to the left of his belly button, his hand not supporting his body pressing down firmly in between his legs.

“Can I?” Austin looks down at Josh to see him gazing right back through heavy lids, his warm, ragged breath fanning across his lower stomach. As his fingers toy with the waistband of his pants and boxers, dipping below the fabric to lightly graze across his skin, Austin understands what Josh was asking.

“Mhm.” Despite himself, anxiety rushes through him as Josh draws both his jeans and boxers down his legs, watching Josh’s face for any signs of reluctance or disappointment. Josh’s jaw goes slack as he stares up at Austin, keeping steady eye contact as he brings his lips to the sensitive skin of his inner thigh and sinking his teeth into it. To ground himself, Austin brings one hand to tangle in Josh’s hair gently as the other fists the sheet below him, his breaths uneven from nerves and anticipation.

“You ok?” Austin barely hears the words, beginning to lose himself in his own mind.

“Mhm. Just nervous.”

“You don’t have to be nervous, we don’t have to keep going if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No!” Austin’s cheeks tint red at how fast the words had left his mouth, not missing the small smirk that flashes across Josh’s lips momentarily. “I want to, really. Just haven’t done this in… a while.”

“I’ll take care of you, baby. Just sit back and let me make you feel good.” Austin swears he can see stars at Josh’s low tone, his eyes hungry as his lips return to his thigh. He continues scattering kisses and bites across his thighs, slowly but surely moving lower and lower until he reaches the crease of his hip, lowering his body until he’s lying on his stomach in between his legs. “You ready?”

“Mhm.” Josh gives him a few seconds before he shifts his weight, lowering his head until he sinks forward, burying his tongue in Austin. He lets out a guttural moan as he feels Josh lick into him fervently, his grip on his hair tightening with each movement. His moans only grow louder as Josh drags his tongue upwards until it reaches his clit, swirling his tongue around him a few times before suctioning his lips around it. Austin tries to keep his hips from bucking up into him as he sets a steady pace, his tongue circling his dick as the sound of his pleasure goes straight to his own, weak moans escaping him as he presses himself against the mattress for any relief.

Josh brings his hand not gripping Austin’s thigh up to his entrance, circling it with the slightest amount of pressure, not yet pressing into him yet as he waits for some form of response. He gets it as Austin nods, his eyes screwed shut and eyebrows furrowed in his ecstasy. Wasting no time, he slowly inserts his middle finger, reveling in the sigh that left Austin as he buries himself in him. Pausing slightly to allow him to get used to the depth, he begins slowing pumping his finger in and out, curling it slightly as he searches for his G-spot. As Josh finds it, Austin’s back arches, his mouth falling open in a silent groan as the hand in Josh’s hair pulls at his roots. The sensation of it nearly pushes Josh over the edge as he weakly grinds into the mattress, his moans vibrating against Austin.

“Oh fuck-” Austin can say nothing else as his breath catches in his throat, pleasure crashing over him as his hips erratically buck forward, riding his high out. Josh’s pace remains unfaltering as he carries him through his orgasm, his neglected erection becoming painful at the sounds leaving his boyfriend’s mouth. It isn’t until Austin’s face contorts with overstimulation, his hand roughly pulling Josh away from him that he pulls his finger from him and leans back, allowing him a moment to breathe and come down as he kisses the skin of his thighs once again.

“You good?”

“Mhm, I am- I am so good, darlin’.” Austin cracks his eyes open, almost immediately ready for a second round as he takes in Josh’s appearance; his sweat slick hair, the curls at the edges of his face sticking to his skin, blown out pupils, and sweat and cum soaked lips and chin sending Austin spiraling once more despite how overstimulated he still was.

“Good.” Josh places one last kiss to his thigh before sitting up and moving back up his body, his slick lips ghosting across his skin until he reaches his mouth. The second he tastes himself on his lips, he makes up his mind, flipping their bodies quickly.

“You said you got protection, darlin’?”

“Bedside table, top drawer. You sure? You just-”

“You’re gonna find out just how high my sex drive is.” Austin grins at him before temporarily leaving him to snatch a condom from the drawer, finding his place between Josh’s legs once more as he begins working at the button of his pants. “Try and remember how high your sex drive was when you were 17 or 18; like I said, I’ve been on T for three years, so that’s about where mine’s at constantly.”

“Jesus fuck-” Austin offers no response as he pulls Josh’s pants and briefs down, his breath catching in his throat as his dick springs free, the tip red and neglected against his soft lower stomach.

Fuckin’ hell- I knew he was big, but I wasn’t expectin’ this big. Trying to stay focused, Austin rolls the condom on quickly before placing his legs on either side of Josh’s thighs, teasing the other man by wrapping his hand around the base of his dick and applying the slightest amount of pressure. Josh sits up to meet him, his hands immediately finding Austin’s hips as he raises himself up, guiding him towards his entrance. “Ready?”

“Mhm.” Austin wastes no time in sinking down onto him, their mouths falling open in unison as he slowly lowers himself until he’s buried completely in him. Neither move as they adjust to the feel of each other, their breaths fanning against the other’s lips as Austin’s hands find his shoulders, Josh’s still firmly gripping his hips.

“You good?” Austin pants the words out, needing to feel him moving inside himself but not wanting to overstimulate Josh if he needed more time.

“Mhm. Please- please move. Please fuck me.”

Fuck. Josh bites his bottom lip between his teeth as Austin raises himself almost completely off him before sinking back down in one swift motion, quickly finding and setting a pace that he knew would have both of them coming undone in minutes. As his head tilts backwards from pleasure, Josh’s eyes squeeze shut as he clamps his mouth shut to stifle a moan, only causing Austin to bring his hand up to his mouth, his thumb dragging across his lower lip. “I want to hear everything, y’understand?”

“Mhm.”

“Say it.”

“I- I understand.” Josh is true to his words as Austin experimentally grinds his hips forward, a loud moan leaving his lips as his grip tightens on the other man.

“Good boy.” Austin feels his dick twitch inside him at the words, setting his pace once more as his lips find the skin of his neck. “Such a good listener, ain’t ya?” Now his turn to bite, suck, and kiss marks into his skin, Austin memorizes each whine and groan that escapes him as he works his way up and down, his own high creeping up on him as he feels Josh’s body tense under his hands.

“Close- Almost there, baby. Just like that- Yes-”

“Cum for me.”

“No.” Josh’s eyebrows furrow as he tries to crack his eyes open, restraint twisting his features as he finds it increasingly hard to hold his orgasm back. “Want you to cum with me.” Austin doesn’t even have time to argue as his hand lowers, beginning to gently rub circles around his clit with his index and middle finger.

Austin’s forehead comes to rest against Josh’s as his eyes close, his senses bombarded with his second orgasm of the night. “Fuck. Right there-” It isn’t long after that he begins to feel that familiar twitch in his thighs and lower abdomen, his muscles tensing before pleasure crashes over him, seeing nothing but a blinding white light as he rides through his orgasm.

The feeling of Austin tensing around his dick sends Josh into his own high, trying to keep his pace on his clit steady as they peak together. They carry each other through their climaxes until uncomfortable overstimulation replaces their pleasure, both men hissing at the contact as Austin quickly raises himself off Josh, collapsing onto the bed beside him.

Josh falls backwards to lay on the bed completely, finding himself wrapped in Austin’s arms and pulled snug against his chest almost immediately. They allow themselves to lie like this for a few moments, not wanting to leave the other by getting up. Finally, they give in to the feeling of needing to clean up, both men quickly realizing just how sweaty their activities had made them as they peel themselves from the other and head to Josh’s bathroom together.

“Want to go smoke and finish our wine in the glasses on the porch?” Josh’s voice is casual and light despite the fact that he had asked the question while discarding their used condom, both men completely naked in the small space as they set in on the bare minimum of cleaning up.

Is this how casual and communicative all people are after or during sex? “Smoke what? And maybe, I know it ain’t too hot or cold out, but I don’t feel like getting’ dressed again and I don’t think your neighbors would appreciate it if we went commando.”

“Weed, cigarette for me. And I have a robe you can borrow, I might have another somewhere I can use, but I’m not sure.” Closing the bathroom door slightly, Josh pulls a silk robe off the hook attached to the back of the door, handing the dark blue fabric scattered with stars to him before making his way back into his room and towards his closet.

“If you can’t find your other one, I can just slip on a t-shirt and some boxers, it’s no biggie.” Despite his reluctance, he puts the robe on, knowing that no matter what, Josh would refuse to take it back. Instead of responding, Josh snorts as he pulls out a massive pile of bright pink silk and faux fur from his closet, unfolding it to reveal a long, billowing robe, the sleeves cascading nearly to the floor as he slips it on with a grin.

“Oh. My. God. You look like your old, rich husband just died under mysterious circumstances; and you definitely poisoned him.” Josh barks out a laugh as he retrieves the wine glasses, his robe ghosting across the floor and flowing behind him like a cape as he moves around the room. “Why the hell do you have that?”

“Went all out on a Halloween costume last year, I forgot about it till now to be honest.” He hands him the glasses as he finds a lighter, a box of cigarettes, and a joint, moving all three items to one hand as he takes his glass back. “What, do you not like it?” Glancing back at him with a smile, they move through the house together, making their way towards the back door in the dim light of the dying summer day.

“No, no, I love it. It suits you, honestly. I just wasn’t expectin’ it, that’s all.” They say nothing more as they sit down on the comfortable couch on the patio, Josh turning on the surrounding fairy lights strung along the walls and railings before sitting as close to Austin as he can. Sitting in comfortable silence, they sip their wine and Josh lights a cigarette after a few minutes, finishing it just as he drains the remainder of his wine glass. Noticing Austin’s glass had been emptied too, he retrieves the joint, lighting it carefully to ensure an even burn before taking a long drag.

He holds it out to Austin, unashamed of how his eyes stayed glued to the other man’s lips as they brush his fingertips, his heartbeat faltering at the contact. They get through half the joint before Austin finally breaks the silence, the weed loosening his lips as he replays the last hour or so of his life.

“Thanks again for bein’ so supportive. I don’t mean to make you feel like I didn’t trust you with knowin’, or that I thought you’d react negatively. That ain’t it, I swear. I’ve just had too many negative experiences with other guys that I just- I just expect guys won’t want me like they did before findin’ out. And I couldn’t shake that, even though I knew that you wouldn’t do that.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I know. I don’t take it personally, and I’m not upset. Like I said, it’s not important in terms of how it might affect our relationship or sex life. It doesn’t change how I feel for you, or how much I want you. I fully support you and am so grateful that you’re letting me see every beautiful part of you.”

Tears come to Austin’s eyes at his boyfriend’s words, his heart soaring at the level of support and what he could only describe as love that Josh had shown him. “Thank you, darlin’. Thank you for acceptin’ all of me.”

“Always and forever, Austin. Never forget it.”

--------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Since I decided that Austin would become a core OC, not just a background character briefly mentioned in Save a Horse, he has been very special to my trans, queer friends and I. I have woven in our experiences and who we are into him; in a way, he is a collection and reflection of myself and the people I love most. It wasn’t until very recently that I realized we had always perceived him as a trans man, even though it was never explicitly stated. I chose to write this so that we/I can share this part of him with you all. As it was a smut fic, I chose to not put “trans M receiving” or anything denoting that part of his identity into the warnings (besides warnings of certain discussions as I recognize it may be a sensitive topic for other trans people) and will continue to do the same in the future. Trans gay sex is gay sex, it should be considered no different than gay smut between two cis men.

A/N pt 2: normalize👏healthy👏communication👏during👏sex👏

taglist: @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm @sanguinebats @fuckyoutommie

#fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fic #greta van fluff #greta van angst #greta van smut #josh gvf #josh kiszka x oc #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka

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itsrnvalves · 2 years ago

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saintsofwarding · 1 year ago

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WE SHALL BE MONSTERS

Banner by @keltii-tea

Chapter 26: A Lost Cause

Heisenberg's boots slammed into stone. The impact rang through him, echoing into the snowy darkness. He heard Mia's too-fast breathing, felt her warmth against him, her arms hooked around his neck, her face pressed to his scruffy cheek.

After a beat, her arms slid free, and she stood on her own, by his side in the darkness.

Around them spread the pit. They stood on a chunk of broken fortress, red brick seared black from the force of the bomb. Past its edge rang empty air, the depths of the crater. Where they stood, moonlight illuminated well enough to see, but in those depths there was nothing, no trace of light. Just the echoes of lycan snarls, the occasional clatter of falling stones, a deep, subsonic rumble that might have been rock shifting, might have been something else.

Water rushed close by, a gout pouring from a gap between two fallen pillars. It spackled Heisenberg's face with cold mist as he strode to the edge of the platform to shine his hip flashlight down into the dark.

It yawned below, endless and absolute. Mist and fog and a kind of grimy haze unfurled around him; each inhale stung with cold, and mold, and the smell of a place long-since removed from the sun. Usually, a big pit full of garbage was Heisenberg's idea of a perfect vacation. Less so right now. Chalk that one up to circumstance.

"I guess that's where we're headed," Mia muttered.

"Guess so."

She sniffed. "In sickness and in health, right?" she said, with a hiccuping little laugh. Then, in a kind of rush- "God, I miss him."

"Yeah?"

"Everything," she pressed. "Everything about him. You know- when I first met Ethan we were just a couple dumb college kids and I..."

Her laugh softened. "I thought he was unbelievably boring."

"Heh. No kidding."

"It was at this house party I didn't even want to be at, and he was in the corner with a red solo cup, and he was dancing to the music in the straightest way possible, I mean-" She demonstrated, holding herself stiffly while she bobbed her head and tapped her thigh in time. "But I didn't know anyone, and I ended up in the corner of shame with him."

"Let me guess. Love at first sight?"

"No!" she snorted. "It took like...three more accidental meetings before he awkwardly asked me to go get coffee, and he turned the brightest shade of red I've ever seen. And it was easy from there. Being with him. It was good. It was so, so good."

Her expression was lethal, like the sun was shining on her face. Hard not to notice her beauty, now, even through the hard days of grime and bruises and exhaustion.

"It crept up on me," she said. "Love. Little by little. That's how he was. You don't think about it, and then you realize what he's done. What he's been doing, all along. What he'd do for the people he cared about."

Her brief look of joy, lost in memories, faded.

"It was the big stuff I missed most, at first," she went on. "But now...it's the little stuff, really, you know? Redfield shuttled me from safe house to safe house after you took Rose, and I thought at first it would be a relief. Nothing to remind me of them, changing scenery, all that. But it's funny how losing someone works. You don't run away from it. The world remakes itself into the shape of that person."

She lifted her face, her profile limned with the red moonlight.

"He'd play piano, sometimes," she said. "Late at night. He always said he wasn't any good. But I'd stay up and listen without him knowing. I'd listen until he was done. Every time."

"He probably knew," Heisenberg said.

A faint smile touched Mia's face as her eyes turned, slowly, to rest on him. Heisenberg felt the weight of her gaze, its soft intensity, like she'd reached up to take his face in her hands.

"How long until dawn?" she asked.

"Hour, maybe."

"Then we're burning time." She cocked her rifle, checked its sights, gave a short nod. "Into the dark."

"And let's hope it doesn't fuck us."

The first few lycans jumped them as they skidded down the scree of broken masonry on the far side of the platform. Classic lycans, hairy wolf-men with makeshift weapons. Mia's rifle spat; Heisenberg crushed a couple skulls with his hammer. His Cadou wriggled inside him, sluggish as it struggled to metabolize the suppressant drug he'd been shot with. He kept his awareness engaged, but metal didn't sing; no hum or crackle of electricity. For the time being, he'd have to do this thing without the use of his power.

Fucking touche. Miranda had given him his powers, had twisted his body into a vessel for them. Typical that now he'd have to fight her without their help. He imagined her face, coldly beautiful. Her smile of calculated triumph.

Show me what you can do now, Little Karl.

Go on. I'm waiting.

One of the lycans lunged for him; he smashed it aside with particular force, splatting it against a block of cracked stone that still bore the paintings of dolorous, long-faced saints, rendered in faded blues and reds. Lots more red, now.

He twisted as gunfire cracked over his shoulder: Mia. The next lycan crumbled apart, its head and chest blown into chunks.

"I had it covered," Heisenberg drawled, shouldering his hammer as he flicked a fragment of crystal off his lapel.

"Uh-huh." Mia scanned the darkness, rifle trained outside their circle of light; howls echoed through the fog, but nothing leaped out at them immediately. "Anything here look familiar to you?"

"Nothing looks familiar to me, sweetheart, this place got put through a meat-grinder."

"That's not what I mean." She huffed a sigh. "I saw the explosion from the chopper. It...it went off in midair, not on the ground. The megamycete had lifted itself free of the cave system. If it blew aboveground, not below, the, uh- the-"

"Chunks?"

"...Sure. The chunks would have rained down on this place. Crushed it."

And Ethan below, Heisenberg thought. Mia must have come to the same conclusion, judging by the haunted look in her eyes.

"Your point?" Heisenberg prompted.

She gave her head a little, annoyed shake. "My point is that maybe there's something intact. Down below."

She pointed further into the pit. "Part of the old fortress, part of the old ceremony site...a cave system...I don't know."

"Could be."

Mia cocked her gun. The snap rang through the fog. "Let's find out."

The haunted look was gone as soon as it had come; now, Heisenberg saw the fever light of determination fill her gaze. That determination must have been what had allowed her to survive all these years, even with Miranda's ghost rattling around in her skull.

Had she known what it was at first? Or had she chalked it up to trauma, PTSD, what the fuck ever?

Of course, she was no stranger to voices in her head. She'd survived Dulvey, too. Three years under Eveline's control, three years of fighting the horrors inflicted on her by the child she'd helped mold into a monster. You had to emerge from that unfathomably strong, or completely insane. As Heisenberg followed her down the crumbling, makeshift pathway, spiraling deeper and deeper into the darkness, he wondered if she hadn't emerged as both.

More lycans. From all directions. They hit fast, hit strong. The smell of rot thickened in the air as Heisenberg and Mia descended, and between the bursts of claws and fangs and gunfire pound, Heisenberg caught sight of the various makeshift dwellings the lycans had fashioned from bits of the village, stacked stones, animal skins, antlers and gnawed bones. Even crude ornaments, dangling from entryways, crow feathers and pebbles, vertebrae and chunks of crystal.

What god did the lycans worship? Their memory of Miranda, and the Black God? Or some eldritch thing birthed from the dregs of their hive-mind, the kind of god only a feral predator could dream up?

Eyes glimmered from caves formed from collapsed pillars; one lycan, massive and musclebound, wore scraps of what looked like scavenged Soldat Panzer exoskeleton, a walking biomechanical wonder.

What an enterprising lad. Shame he had to die.

That was a group effort- Heisenberg swept forward and with a colossal swing of his hammer, smashed the front plate of its helmet off, exposing a scarred-up face twisted with rage. Mia sprang under his arm and delivered the coup de grace in the form of a bullet to the gob. As it slumped to the side, raining in shards into the darkness below, Mia paused, breathing hard, scanning their surroundings. Heisenberg did the same, but there was nothing. More lycan dens, more broken masonry, more blocks of cracked stone wreathed in mist.

A chorus of growls and snarls, the screech of claws in stone, scrabbled somewhere behind them. Mia pushed off; Heisenberg followed her. She was in charge, now, a woman on a mission. Her head down, she ducked under a gateway formed of blocks of fallen stone and into a narrow channel beyond, a ravine formed of rubble. Lycans advanced. She sprayed an arc of bullets, her lips drawn back from her teeth. When one collapsed at her feet, wounded, still crawling toward her, she drove her boot onto its head, crushing it to the dirt.

"Come on!" she yelled at Heisenberg, a few meters behind her, and headed into the fog again. "There has to be something- we just need to keep looking!"

"Mia," Heisenberg muttered.

"Don't you dare say my name like that," Mia snapped, glancing back at him. "He would do this for me. He...he already did this for me. I have to keep looking." "I know-"

"Then keep up!"

She rounded a corner and almost ran head-first into a knot of lycans. She stumbled back; her rifle came up, muzzle flash illuminating the fog in one, two, three bursts. Crystal shattered, bone reduced to hissing pulp under the anti-mutant rounds. Mia's scream filled the air as the lycans fell, as she demolished the next wave, and the next.

They were coming, and in force; Heisenberg glanced up at the ring of glimmering green eyes, the bared fangs, the rusty metal and pieces of broken antler clutched in clawed hands. With a little shake of his shoulders, he waded in. His hammer swung through the flashes of gunfire, through Mia's howl of rage as she fought them back, on and on until the air was as thick with gore as it was with fog, a bloody mist that clung in a pinkish sheen to Heisenberg's coat and dripped down from his hat brim.

The last of the lycans crumbled apart, ribs gaping to the sky. Mia stared at it, panting, eyes white-ringed and bright. She slumped against a block of ancient brick, closing her eyes.

"Mia," Heisenberg said, approaching her. He reached out for her arm. A gash had sliced through her sweater- a lycan's claw swipe- and bled freely down the thick material.

She rounded on him with a gasp, lifting her rifle. Its barrel knocked him in the middle of the chest; he didn't flinch.

"Do you understand?" Mia said. "I have to keep looking."

"I know."

"He...he's dead because...because I didn't tell him, because I...lured him there..." Her rifle barrel dipped. She shook her head back and forth, glazed and manic. "If...if I hadn't, he would still be alive. He would still be-"

"Eveline did that. Right? Not you."

A sob choked her. "You don't get it. It doesn't matter." She shoved back from him, stumbling through the rubble. "It doesn't matter. I-"

She drew a short breath. "I..."

She blinked.

"You what?" Heisenberg said.

"I recognize that," Mia said, staring over his shoulder.

Heisenberg turned. It reared through the devastation: part of a gateway, attached to a short, broken flight of steps. Heavy, blocky, chiseled from red-brown rock. The same bedrock the village had been built atop; the same stone he'd stared at for countless hours while Miranda indoctrinated him, or sliced into him, or rummaged around in his insides, trying to perfect him. He remembered the flicker of flame-shadows off its surface, the play of flashlight beams on its distant walls.

"Shit," Mia breathed.

She moved past Heisenberg and toward the gateway. It listed to one side, half-sunk into the earth, but it was still connected to something. Mia vaulted onto the steps and climbed up, pulling herself onto the lip of the gateway and balancing atop it to peer inside. Heisenberg followed, setting the head of his hammer against the frame, staring in after her.

Beyond-

A narrow cleft of darkness breathed frigid air across them.

"This was the entrance to the lab," Mia murmured. "I remember from when she brought me here. I remember thinking...it looked beautiful. Like an ancient temple. Something from a dream..."

"Yeah, well, bet she broke you of that opinion real fuckin' fast."

Mia sniffed, scrubbing her bloodied palm over her face. Heisenberg could hear her heartbeat, fast as a hare in a trap's. He knew what she was thinking, as much as if they shared a hive mind themselves. Miranda's lab had been built right below the ceremony site. The caves, too. The hallowed cathedral in the earth, the inner sanctum of the Black God.

Ethan had died right above the caves, and if they were still, in some way, intact, and the whole place had fallen in...

Well.

Mia was silent. No big surprise. Few words sufficed when staring down at the tomb of a loved one.

Heisenberg glanced at her.

"You gonna stand there all night?" he said.

She gave a small shudder, as if bracing herself, then shook her head. "No." And without another pause, she stepped over the edge and dropped into the darkness below.

Heisenberg was right behind her, clambering down the three-meter incline and into the passageway beyond. The cavern stretched beyond, a hallway chiseled of that same bedrock stone, torch brackets set into the walls, the floor scattered with chips of stone and a decade's worth of dust. Great cracks seamed the walls, but the place was intact, relatively speaking, the entire hallway tilted downward at a sharp angle.

In the explosion the entire cavern system must have just fallen into the earth, the tons of rock above it burying, yet also preserving, it. Like a mausoleum. As Heisenberg took a deep breath of the still, damp air, he smelled a familiar trace of incense, rich spices and musk winding its way deep into his skull, illuminating the century of memories locked within.

How many times had he walked this hallway? How many times had he strode between enshrined saints, hammer dripping with their devotees' blood? A traitor in their midst, an impostor saint, a false prophet's mongrel. They stared down at him now, statues of long-dead holy men anointed with dust, with the crystallized remains of their dead god.

He thought of Ouroboros' files on him, the rote, dry facts of his unnatural life that Mia had offered to him, and that he had refused. If the devout were right, these saints had seen those years, too, had whispered the litany of his life to the Black God itself, so it might dream of him forever. Did they remember him now, all the things he'd done, who he truly was, even if he didn't?

Didn't matter. Fuck them. Their god had demanded death, and if Heisenberg knew one thing, it was that everyone got what was coming round to them.

Mia's breathing quickened as the caves sloped down, and down, as they climbed over a stream gushing from a crack in the cave wall, as her boots crunched on broken glass, and crystal, and the remnants of a shattered gilt icon.

And when Heisenberg's flashlight beam struck the bolt-studded wood of a door, her gasp was painful, a blade-edge rasp on the edge of a sob.

It was warped in the broken frame, but as Heisenberg and Mia alike set their weight against it, it juddered open, spilling a cloud of dust and light into the broken space beyond.

Miranda's lab, Heisenberg thought.

The remains of her lab, anyway, the vaulted chambers where she'd conducted her personal experiments well-away from the eyes of the villagers. Couldn't have them believing she was capable of anything less than sorcery, after all. A column of ruddy moonlight filtered down from a rift in the cavern roof somewhere high above, filling the ruins with a bloody pall. A shelf of shattered specimen jars, each filled with a lump of crystal that had once been a Cadou, leaned drunkenly against a collapsed heap of brick wall. Shreds of decomposed papers and files were scattered like leaves; Heisenberg scuffed aside a damp-spotted photograph of Moreau without his overcoat. Crushed tables, and broken glass, and cell bars bent and warped from the bomb's heat. Everywhere, calcified roots burst from walls and floor, crushing the lab into a nearly-unrecognizable mess.

Above all loomed the broken remains of a statue. One of the Four Kings that had once ringed the ceremony site. His melancholy face was blackened on one side, a point of his crown snapped off at the root.

This was the ceremony site, Heisenberg realized, collapsed inward, crushed into this cavern space. He sent his awareness, all his enhanced senses, into the darkness. Searching for a trace, a flicker of hibernating essence, of a mutant in stasis.

Silence.

"Ethan?" Mia called. She pushed forward, stumbling over the calcified roots. "Ethan? Are you there?"

She bent and began to dig through the rubble with her bare hands. Stone clattered; dust billowed, thick and choking. "He's...he's got to be here...could he have regenerated? Like the others? Ethan!"

Her voice rang over the distant rush of water, the sound of crumbling stone, echoing from deeper inside the ruins. Heisenberg picked his way after her as she dug her way on, as she clawed at the broken masonry, her eyes wild, her entire body shaking.

"I know he's here," she said. "Heisenberg, you've got to...you've..." She took a sharp breath, jagged and choked. "He'll be so glad to see you. You saved Rose, after all- you're gonna..."

She cut off as she bent to drag aside a slab of flagstone floor. "We're all going to be a family again. Just like I planned. You'll see. You'll see..."

She trailed off. The echoes of her voice rang away and away, fading into dusty silence. Heisenberg caught up to her, watching the back of her head, the rise and fall of her shoulders.

Before her, the column of moonlight glimmered off milky crystal.

Ethan's body lay at her feet.

He was broken. One arm missing, shattered off at the shoulder. His face had cracked down the middle, his single remaining eye closed. He knelt there, head lowered, his body half-buried, his hand clasped to his heart.

The crystal there had warped in strange, intricate patterns. In this light, they almost looked like roses.

Mia made a small sound. She edged forward, one step, another.

"Is he..." she whispered. "Is...is there..."

"No, Mia," Heisenberg said. Weary, weary. "There's...nothing. Nothing left. He's gone."

She reached out with a trembling hand. "It's okay, baby." She smoothed it over his cheek, thumb tracing his lips. "It's okay. I found you, didn't I?"

All at once, she fell to her knees, holding his face, holding him. Her shoulders curled in; she shook under the weight of her tears. Terrible, wracking, like they'd been torn from deep inside her. She buried her face in the broken crook of Ethan's neck and sobbed, her hands in white-knuckled fists, clinging onto his body as if that would prove enough to bring him back.

***

Mia's sobs wound down into silence, and the hush crept in. Still she held him. Heisenberg leaned on his hammer, eyes lowered, watching the dust dance in the moonlight.

Saints and gods, sacred words whispered in the dark. There was nothing holy here anymore. Nothing sacred. All of it had died with Ethan, with his last kiss pressed to little Rose's head. All of it was gone with him.

At last, Mia let Ethan's body go. She crawled away, into a corner of the rubble, where she sat, slumped over her knees, staring into nothingness.

"I think part of me always knew," she said after a while. "All this time. All these wasted years." She gave her head a little shake. "I was so stupid to think I could save him. To think I could make this all better, make all this go away. I already got my chance for that."

Heisenberg made himself speak. "Yeah, you did."

She closed her eyes, bowing her head.

"Doesn't mean he loved you any less." Heisenberg approached her. "Doesn't mean you get to give up now."

She laughed, emotionless. "Too late."

"No. No." He swooped to one knee at her side, grabbing her face in his hand. He turned her head, away from Ethan's body, toward him. "No, Mia. You don't get to. Because if you do then so do I. You understand?"

He gave her a shake. He felt her tremble under his glove, her face so close to his he could see the tears clinging to her lashes, the blood spackling her mouth.

"You don't give up, Mia," he said. He ran his thumb over her lips, taking the bloodstains with it. "I'm not gonna let you."

Slowly, he released her face. His fingertips left red welts against her skin. "We might have failed Ethan," he said. "But Rose is still out there. And we. Won't. Fail. Her."

She blinked. A flutter of lashes. Then something seemed to leave her. Mia's head slumped forward, against his chest, one hand curling into his shirt, pulling herself closer, against him. The other brushed the scar crossing his throat, the scruff at his jaw, a lock of dirty gray hair.

Heisenberg hesitated. She was so warm against him. He felt the pressure of her breathing on his skin. The gentle pulse of her heartbeat.

Another long moment of silence, of dust and ruin around them. Just two horrible people, kneeling together in the dark.

Then he lifted his hand and ran it, slowly, over her hair. It was just as filthy as his. Something kind of sweet about that.

"I think I already failed her enough," Mia murmured, as he stroked her head. "Ethan...Ethan would want me to live. To keep fighting."

"Yeah, probably."

"Are you gonna be any more comforting than that?"

"Sweetheart. We've spent the past few days in each other's fine company. Surely you know better by now."

"Right, right, fine."

"Besides. We still have enemies, even once the other Lords deal with Ouroboros," Heisenberg went on. A snarl entered his voice. "Don't you want the chance to destroy that bitch Miranda for good after what she did to you?"

"You're such a bad influence," Mia told him. "Ruining all my aspirations toward achieving a moral high ground."

"Cool your jets, Winters. You managed that all by yourself." He pressed his forehead to hers for a moment, then pulled her to her feet. "Any bright ideas on how we can deal with that big, bad artillery unit topside?"

A dark light entered Mia's eyes. "I'm sure I can think of something."

She pulled from his hands and went to Ethan's remains, kneeling once again at his side. The moonlight filled its facets, made it seem to glow softly from within. Mia brushed her hand over his crystallized hair, as if to straighten it. She clasped his hand, stroking her thumb over the ridge of his knuckles.

"Goodbye, my love," she whispered to him, and leaned forward, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "I promise I'll come back for you."

***

Another burst of flames lit the sky as Heisenberg and Mia emerged from the crater depths. Even down here, the air smelled like ashes, cutting over even the overwhelming reek of lycan and rotting flesh.

"What's your power situation?" Mia asked.

Heisenberg splayed a hand, then shrugged, the movement accentuated by the hammer propped on his shoulder. "Still suffering from projectile dysfunction."

"Of course you are. Ugh..." She was checking over her weapons, taking stock. "Shit. I'm almost out of ammo."

"Then make what you've got count."

She glanced up at him. Her eyes were red-rimmed, dark circles so pronounced her face had a faintly cadaverous appearance, a new sharpness. Something inside her had set, and hardened. He heard it in her voice, too. "If I can get to that lab with the lycans, there's gonna be an antidote. It should get your Cadou metabolizing fast enough to work through the suppressant."

"Uh-huh." He'd barely heard her after she said the words lab with the lycans. "Now there's an idea."

"I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Are you, though?" He grinned at her. "I'll explain on the climb up."

Another artillery shot blasted the skies as they reached the lip of the crater, Mia sporting a couple new scratches courtesy of the lycans. If she was in pain, she didn't show it. She scrambled to a rock shelf behind a copse of trees and crouched down, rifle at the ready like some kind of black ops guy from one of the shitty action movies Heisenberg had binged with Rose.

He ambled behind her, squinting over his glasses at the camp. With Regan and company gone, the amount of soldiers was cut down significantly. Still, he could see the black-armored figures ringing the artillery, moving in and out of the prefabs, keeping the lycans back from the fence as, above, the Rose monster dived and strafed through the clouds, the pressure of its wingbeats driving spikes of pain through his head.

Well, fuck me, he thought, a little impressed despite himself. Somehow, the artillery fire was keeping her back.

And maybe something else was, too.

Keep fighting, kid. I'm coming for you. I told you I would, didn't I?

Still, Ouroboros knew what they were doing when it came to holding off giant flying bioweapons. And he had little doubt Regan had left orders to shoot them both in the head if they showed their faces in camp without Ethan in tow. And he wasn't about to suggest Mia bring his corpse back up to use as protective coloration.

Well. He might have. Her face if he did would be something to behold. But right now, it would only waste time.

"There," Mia whispered, pointing. One of the lycans had wriggled partway through a gnawed gap in the fence; a bullet drove it back, and it hightailed, but the loose scrap of fence lingered. "Through there, and to the lab."

"After you."

Mia gave herself a little nod- then darted. She streaked through the shadows, little more than a flicker of movement, a scatter of snow, ducking and rolling through the fence before the artillery unit's searchlight swept the area. Heisenberg shook his head in approval and followed, somewhat less gracefully, shoving his shoulders through the fence and into the camp in a clatter of metal. Fuck this, he thought, grinding his teeth. The second he got his powers back, he was taking this whole goddamn camp and crushing it like a car compacter.

Pressing into the shadows cast by an old house, he and Mia watched the flurry of movement in camp. Soldiers trooped by; a temporary munitions stand had been set up alongside the Maiden of War, gunmetal and carbon-fiber at odds with the crystal growths and painted wood surrounding them. The heat from the artillery unit shimmered in the air, melting the snow into a glassy sheen over the ground below.

Heisenberg eyed the artillery, assessing it with a flick of his eyes. Simple enough. A lot like the ones he'd spent decades playing with back at his factory, mounting them on anything stout enough to hold them purely for the fun of seeing how the vehicle in question held up under fire. Pop a couple wires here and there, and the whole weapon would be dead in the water.

First things first. He jerked his head toward the lab with brows raised.

"Hang on," Mia whispered. She stared toward the group of Moreau-aficionados still huddled on one side of the square. They had all joined hands and were singing in old-tongue, some ancient prayer to the Black God for protection. "We need to get them out."

"Seriously?"

"Yes!" she hissed. "Moral high ground, remember? Shut up and follow me."

They ducked through the ruined house itself and came up behind the prisoners. A punch from Heisenberg launched their guard straight into unconsciousness; he yanked him backward into the house, leaving him in a heap on the kitchen floor.

The girl with the shaved head gasped as Mia shook her shoulder, then blinked, her pale eyes widening so far they looked as if a good slap might knock them right out of her head.

She flung herself to her hands and knees as best she could in her shackles. "Lord Heisen-"

"Shut it," Heisenberg growled. "And listen."

"We're gonna get you out of here. This place is about to turn into a shitshow," Mia said. "You need to get as far away as you can before-"

"-Before I release all the lycans in that lab over there on the poor, unsuspecting fools you see before you," Heisenberg cut in.

The girl's mouth opened in a perfect O. "The lycans?" she echoed.

"That's what I said. Now how do these cuffs-"

The girl babbled over him. "Lord...Lord Moreau prophesied this. He in his infinite wisdom...he saw that this day would pass, that there would come a time when I, and his other loyal followers, would need to walk through the ranks of the monster wolves themselves, and emerge unscathed from the other side!"

She launched into rummaging through the mess of amulets and charms she wore slung about her neck, her skinny fingers trembling. At last she came up with a phial attached to a long piece of cord. It was made of old, yellowed glass, sealed with a gob of wax. Inside swirled a thick black substance.

"This holy relic will protect us against the lycans," the girl said.

"What is that?" Mia squinted at the stuff.

But Heisenberg grinned, with as many teeth as a lycan itself.

"It's spores," he said. "From the Black God. Take too long to get into the science, but this shit's what the megamycete seeded its hosts with to maintain control, stop them from slaughtering one another. Anything with this stuff on them will read as one of the lycans. They'll smell it on us and ignore us."

He chuckled. "Well, well. Moreau, you clever bastard. There's hope for you yet."

"It won't last long, so you must hurry," the girl said. She had already popped the wax and was busy smearing the other cultists with the black spores.

"Nag, nag, nag, buttercup," Heisenberg said. The girl pressed the vial into his hand, holding on for a moment. He tugged his hand away before she might start kissing it or whatever. "Get ready to run along to the reservoir. Your- uh, Lord Moreau's down there."

Elation lit the girl's eyes. "Black God bless you, Lord Heisenberg."

He didn't bother pointing out the Black God would probably rather eat him than bless him. He rubbed a streak of spores on his wrist, then did the same for Mia.

The monster strafed by; it swept through the clouds, the backdraft from its wings blasting through the camp. The timbre of its roars had changed- they now were an enraged, thunderous bellow, each strafe growing lower, lower, shaking the ground like the aftershocks of an earthquake.

Was Miranda winning?

Hang on, Rose.

Shouts filled the air as Heisenberg and Mia burst from the ruined house, Mia peppering the snow with suppressing fire, keeping back the few soldiers who weren't focused on the black-feathered monstrosity circling ever-closer. One of its tentacles lashed down, tearing a gash from the roof of a dilapidated house, then furling back into the clouds. Heisenberg's hammer cracked skulls, shattered firing hands, sent the door guard sprawling aside as they ducked into the lab.

The sterile air hit him like a punch to the teeth, light burning his eyes. The researchers within all sprang to their feet, scrabbling for the peashooters at their belts. Mia stuck her rifle under the first guy's chin.

"Get out of here," she growled.

The gun would have been enough, Heisenberg figured. But Mia's whole look- ragged and bruised and splattered with lycan gore- sure as hell didn't hurt. The scientists scattered. Mia pushed a rolling chair aside and tapped at a computer, its pale light illuminating the lines on her face. Behind them, the rows of lycans clawed at their cages, desperate to get out.

"You got the accelerant?" Heisenberg said.

Her eyes flickered back and forth. "I...I don't see it-"

Shouts echoed outside the lab. Heisenberg leaned alongside Mia. "Come on, it's gotta be there somewhere-"

"I-"

Gunfire pounded the air. Heisenberg ducked over Mia, bringing them both down against the console as the air filled with sparks and the rattle of bullets against metal; the lab door hung crooked, half-torn-away by gunfire. They were coming in.

Heisenberg saw it, now. There was no time. They'd run out of options.

All except one.

Fuck it, he decided. "Mia."

"What?"

"Release the lycans. Then get to the big gun."

"Huh?"

"I'm going after Rose. Fend her off with the artillery so I can draw her away."

"Without your power?"

"I don't need my power for this. I know Rose. And Miranda." He pressed his finger to his temple. "I can fuck with her head just like she fucked with mine. Now you get your ass out the door and into that gun or we're all screwed."

She rounded on him, the small of her back pressed to the console. For a moment he thought she would protest. For a moment he thought she'd try to stop him, spare him, like she'd fought so hard to spare Ethan. Her face was hard, the look in her eyes bright enough to burn him alive.

He heard the hiss of her breathing through her parted lips, made out the tremble of her lashes as her eyes held his.

Slowly, Mia slipped his glasses off his nose. She lifted her face, her knuckles to his chest as she gripped his shirt in both hands, as she pulled him down, as her mouth canted, desperate, devastating, to his.

A hesitation-

A brush of her mouth, a lilt of her lips over his-

And then she was kissing him, and her fingers were tangled in his hair; his hands found Mia's face, her waist, the soft press of her hips into his. Her lips were chapped, were bitter with blood. For a moment he was lost, adrift, nothing in the world but the feeling of her mouth on his, of her grip on him, her knuckles pressed hard to his chest, just over his living, beating heart.

Her face fell from his, her mouth from his, her face brushing his cheek with a rasp of scruff to skin. The cold twined between them again. Heisenberg's heart pounded, his Cadou pulsing in time; pressed to him the way she was, Mia probably felt that as much as she felt everything else. He didn't care. He traced her cheek with his thumb, not wanting to pull away, not wanting to let her go.

"We can still cut and run," he murmured. He cocked an eyebrow. "Last chance."

Mia snorted. She nudged her forehead to his, kissed the delicate skin just under his jaw. All too soon, she pulled back.

"Go," she told him. She returned his shades to his face. "Find Rose. Get her back."

She stood from him, gripping the cage control on the console- a big, red handle surrounded by warning signs. "For Ethan."

Heisenberg gave her a single nod, his hat brim dipping. "See you around," he said. "Winters."

Her small returning smile would stick with him a long, long time. "You, too," she told him. "Karl."

He swung his hammer back onto his shoulder with a clang.

Mia turned the handle.

With the screech of hinges, every cage in the lab swung open at once. The lycans lunged out, a seething tide of matted gray hair and savage, starving eyes, claws and twisted muscle and teeth asnarl. Moreau's spores did the trick- none of them paid any attention to Heisenberg or Mia. As the creatures leaped for the exits, tearing great holes in the prefab walls with tooth and nail, as they hit the Ouroboros soldiers outside hard and fast as a lightning strike, Heisenberg strode out after them, rummaging in his coat for a cigar.

Just like old times, he thought. Practically nostalgic.

By the time he ducked back into the camp, it was in chaos. Gunfire lit the skies, muffled under screams, snarls, feral howls as the lycans clambered atop buildings and vehicles, as they took down commandos three to one. A couple of the beasts tore through the fence, collapsing it under their weight. More lycans surged in from outside, tangling and tumbling over one another in their greed to get in at the fresh meat.

The screams began to die, began to be replaced with the sound of tearing flesh, of bones snapping and crackling from their joints.

Heisenberg lit the cigar with what appeared to be the last of his matches as he left the camp, as he ascended the rise beyond. If he was gonna die today, might as well do so feeling like himself. The cigar tasted a little stale, a little moldy, but it was better than nothing.

Besides. A good Cuban was a good Cuban, and- even better- it looked like it was gonna be a nice morning.

At the edge of the horizon, past the mountains, a faint trace of gold lit the blizzard. Dawn. It illuminated the monster, illuminated the impossible span of its eight wings, the rain of mold sheeting down from them as the artillery fire ceased- gunner dead or tossed out on their ass, courtesy of Mia. As the monster wheeled round, coming back in his direction.

Heisenberg took a deep drag off his cigar, let the smoke twine through his lungs- one last time, heh- then flicked it to the snow and crushed it under his boot.

He lifted his arms to the monster.

"Miranda!" he yelled. "Remember me?"

And in a rush of darkness, the beast that was Miranda, that was Rose, fell from the skies, wings spread, talons open and aimed straight for him.

34 notes · View notes

drsteggy · 2 years ago

Text

And we’re back! This was fun to write.

I decided to go with the wild card option I got, which was this:

[Hand her ancient weapons first]

"I think we were always supposed to fight the calamity together. Not that either of us were prepared. I'll show you- you have a right to see it, I think."

"...Link, what's wrong?"

"Dunno yet. Stay on the platform. If I die you should still be able to get out."

“What.”

Onward:

You can still get inside, correct?

There’s a fight inside that shrine, a tough one. One he had to bail on and return to before winning it. He hasn’t been back here since then, there was no need.

He knows the combat shrines reset with the blood moons. Sometimes he scavenged ancient weapons that way, when he didn’t have rupees or parts for Robbie.

He taps a finger to his lips and frowns. Zelda tilts her head, one eyebrow cocked, waiting for his answer. A week ago, the idea of bringing her down there would have horrified him. She is much more capable on the road then he imagined, even hunting dinner most nights.

He remembers her snap about fighting the calamity. Surely the training area for the hero should work for the princess with sealing power as well.

He answers her by handing her a fairy in a bottle. The fairy will pick her up should she fall.

He hopes she doesn’t fall.

“What’s this?” She slowly turns the bottle in her hands, the tiny pink light bubbles inside, soft bells barely audible.

“Insurance. Also take these.” He thrusts an ancient short sword and a medium sized ancient shield, the last in his inventory, toward her. They are light, and she should be able to handle them. If she had sword training, she hasn’t practiced in a while. “These are the best things to use on what’s inside there.”

Zelda pockets the fairy and accepts the glowing armaments. She gives them a once over and returns her gaze to Link, her mouth open with so many questions, she can’t pick the right one to ask first.

"I think we were always supposed to fight the calamity together. Not that either of us were prepared. I'll show you- you have a right to see it, I think."

"...Link, what's wrong?"

"Dunno yet. Stay on the platform. If I die you should still be able to get out."

“What.”

“Come on.” He takes her hand and leads her to the lighted platform inside the shrine. She gasps and squeezes his fingers as the platform abruptly begins its decent. She is only off balance for a moment though, and is quickly trying to take in as much as she can as the drift down into the darkness.

The platform settles in what is clearly a lobby, with a ceiling so high it cannot be seen. One small door stands before another cavernous room.

Link licks his lips and steps off the platform, Zelda following close behind. His heart rate has picked up its pace. He feels aware of every crack in the walls, the oily smell of guardian that seems heavy in the air. It didn’t take him long to learn what that smell meant.

He runs through an internal checklist of his gear, making sure he has made the best choices for what is going to happen in that next room.

Zelda trots ahead of him, glamoured by the odd architecture. She is almost at the door when he calls at her to stop. She half turns, wide eyed.

“We should go together.” He explains, drawing the Master Sword off his back, and swinging a royal shield in front of him. “Keep your shield high and follow me.”

They step through the door together, footsteps echoing around them. There is the same high, unseen ceiling, and a half dozen stone pillars stand throughout the chamber. When they are about a third of the way across the room, bars drop across the doorway, blocking their exit.

Link’s gut drops. He shivers and sets his jaw. Zelda draws her sword, the white blue sparkle dancing at the edge of his vision.

There’s a mechanical scraping and a platform rises in the center of the room. A pony sized machine sits on it, three guardian like legs holding it up.

“What is that?” Whispers Zelda.

“It’s called a guardian scout and it’s dangerous.”

The small, squat creature sprouts three arms, wielding a shield, a sword and a savage looking axe. All three weapons are made of the same white blue energy.

It skitters forward alarmingly fast and insect-like, homing in on their position.

“Shields up,” mutters Link as the scout fires a volley of light at them. Zelda barks in surprise, scrambling back and raising her shield.

The scout seems to focus on Link, bringing the axe down agains his shield and shaking him to the bone. Zelda takes advantage of this by dashing to the scout’s flank and bringing her sword down.

She gets two swings in before the scout spins around to engage her, snapping its shield forward and bringing the blade of the axe down.

Zelda gasps and backs up, bringing her own shield up and blocking the blow. Link freezes for only a second and then savagely brings his blade down.

The scout spins again, appearing confused with a pair of opponents. It scrambles back, clawed feet scraping the stone floor. Link holds a hand out to stay Zelda as she steps forward to chase.

“This isn’t something I’ve seen before….ah, no, get behind a pillar.”

The scout raises itself up, stretching the arms with axe and sword out and races toward them, spinning its arms around like a deadly pinwheel. They duck behind a pillar. The scout scrambles toward them in that unsettling, almost alive manner and crashes into their hide, shattering it and stunning the scout. Link spins to take advantage of the opening, bringing the sword down over handed. Zelda dives in as well, taking out a leg.

The machine stutters back to life and flips out the axe, attempting to take them both in one blow. Link throws the elbow of his shield arm out, catching Zelda’s shoulder and shoving her back as the axe whistles past his face, narrowly missing his nose. Zelda cries out, staggering back and lifting her own shield reflexively.

The scout collapses on itself and Link hears a familiar whirring.

“Get back! Do you have your bow ready?”

Zelda nods and draws a royal bow she’s been hunting with.

“Just stay out of range of the spinning thing, and shoot, I’m going up.”

Link has never quite known what to think of this particular attack, but he knows that contacting the spinning cable the machine is sending out will hurt. It also creates enough of an updraft that he can use it to get airborne. He snaps out the paraglider and rises into the air. Zelda fires an arrow below him.

Atta girl.

She’s a worthy fighting partner. He had no idea. Had they fought together before?

He flips the paraglider away to draw his own bow, reaching for Revali’s chosen weapon and firing a volley of arrows before he needs to swapping back to the paraglider.

He glances down to see Zelda on the move, firing as fast as she can draw. He should give her a multi shot bow. Maybe one of the Yiga bows.

Maybe later, his arms and sides suddenly protest and he drops to the ground.

The scout tucks into itself again, and starts drawing energy from somewhere. This is it. This is its final stand. He has seen this enough to recognize.

“Zelda! Press in! It can only target one of us.”

The final attack is a guardian stalker style light beam. The scout plants the targeting light between Link’s eyes. Fine. Link begins to circle the scout, shield facing forward, ready to parry the beam back.

Zelda circles as well, directly across from him, slashing. Her eyes are fixed on her target, lips curled in a snarl. She swings repeatedly, landing each blow hard as Link attempts to draw fire.

The final shot never comes.

Zelda lands a final blow on the spidery machine and it drops the weapons it welds, sparks flying out of the top. It collapses before imploding and vanishing. Zelda is wide eyed and panting, grinning from ear to ear.

“I did it!”

“You did it!” Her smile is infectious. Has he seen her this excited before? He doesn’t know. “Here,” he picks up an ancient battle axe dropped by the machine. “You earned the spoils. Come get them.”

She scores a sword and a shield as well as an odd screw and a gear. She runs her fingers along the hilt the sword. “What is it? Is this where you got the one you gave me?”

“I think of them as ancient weapons, but I think they are old Sheikah tech.” Link pulls an ancient arrow out of his quiver. The tip snaps out and into place, white blue light forming the point. “They are particularly good against guardians, but outside a shrine this will stop everything in a single shot. You know Robbie? He makes stuff like this.”

“Robbie? Robbie is still alive? Oh, yes, I forgot.”

“Yes. Robbie and Purah…”

“PURAH!”

“Maybe we should talk about Purah…” he is interrupted when she throws herself at him, embracing him. He stiffens, unsure of what to do.

It’s only been a couple weeks, maybe a few days more since they ended the calamity and he has grown more familiar with her, but this is more than he is prepared for. He takes the hug, only returning it, gingerly, carefully, after a long moment. Zelda seems to understand his discomfort and steps back, keeping her hands on his shoulders.

“Link. This is amazing. They survived. We were able to do it because they survived to help you.”

Link furrows his brow. He has not thought about it that way, but Robbie and Purah were people he met along the way, and new to him. He has been told people were waiting for him and yet he has not thought about what that meant before now.

For the first time, he realizes that he has not just dreamed Zelda into existence. Everything that has gone on since he awoke in the pool at the Shrine of Resurrection, shivering in just a pair of shorts, a new foal to the world, while already full of responsibility.

He wants to collapse at the thought of it, there’s so much he doesn’t know, can barely see the edges of, it’s almost too much. He steadies himself against her palms and returns her smile. “Yes.”

He places his hands over hers and she tangles her fingers in hers. “Zelda, we should go see Impa, I know she is eager to see you.”

Rules* Part 1* Part 2

#poll fic #legend of zelda fanfiction #legend of Zelda #breath of the Wild #my fic

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