he didn't mean to---alexei saw the brilliant flash of white hair as he passed her on the street, and that nearly caused him to screech to a halt. something about her didn't seem quite right, and he was in-between jobs right now. so what could it hurt? besides, he missed helping people.

although, not many heroes were driving around in a less-than-conspicuous limousine in broad daylight. that was badly in need of a tune-up. he rolls down the window; the glass screeching against the crumbling rubber as he leans to address the woman. ❝ are you alright, miss---? ❞ he couldn't quite believe his eyes, at how striking she was; she is like snegurochka, in the flesh! he has to stop himself; to think about what this looks like. a strange man approaching a woman who is alone and vulnerable? be careful, alexei.

❝ i know what this looks like---but i promise, i am not trying to solicit anything---❞ hands come up, in surrender, before he's leaning his elbow on the steering wheel. ❝ do you need any help? directions to somewhere? ❞

FOREWORD INCOMING !!   accepting memes!!    halloween   !!   from @frostborns

the wind picks up, sharper this time, and the sound of the corn rattling grows into a dry chorus, like bones knocking together. every stalk leans with the gust, bending and snapping, and still the scarecrow does not move. it just hangs there, towering, shoulders squared against the pale sky, its silhouette too solid to belong to mere cloth and straw.

her claws sink deeper into his arm, the pricks of pressure making him swallow back his own unease. he laughs softly, trying to cover the tremor in his chest, “ if i had known you’d be this scared, i wouldn’t have brought you. ” the words are gentle, meant to soothe, though he can’t ignore the irony—it’s her domain, fae magic, the unseen and the strange.

FOREWORD INCOMING !!   accepting !!    settings prompt   !!   from @frostborns

the paper bags rustle as carletta sets them down on the table, the glow of candlelight catching on the plastic containers inside. the faint steam that escapes smells of sesame, garlic, and spice, clashing and mingling in the still air. she pulls each box out carefully, stacking them in neat rows across the table, while ahmya leans back in her chair, cane propped against the counter within reach.

“ at least we could get delivery, ” ahmya mutters again, the dryness in her voice softened by the curl of a smirk tugging at her lips.

shadows climb high up the walls, stretching long and skeletal, only broken where the candles flicker across the wood and tile. the storm outside has quieted, though every now and then the rain picks up just enough to drum faintly against the windowpanes, a steady heartbeat against the glass.

carletta slides a box toward ahmya, chopsticks balanced carefully on top. ahmya gestures lazily, her hand cutting through the candlelight, “ eat. you’ll need to eat. ” she doesn’t bother hiding the command in her tone, though the edge is dulled by comfort.

carletta sits across from her, cross-legged in her chair, hair catching glints of gold from the flames as she opens the cartons. the two of them dig in quietly, the soft clack of chopsticks and low rustle of containers filling the silence in place of electricity.

“ when i bought this place, ” ahmya says, voice low, “ they failed to mention the power goes out when it so much as rains. ” her lips press to the rim of her tea, the steam curling up to mix with the faint scent of melted wax.

“ i’ll get a generator for next time, ” she adds after a moment, almost absentmindedly, but there’s a weight behind it, a promise tucked in among the shadows and flickering light.

fingertips ghost over exposed skin of natasha's back and a chill runs down her spine. not uncomfortable or painful, just barely there as a reminder of the other's presence behind her. control is not something easily given, yet as soft chill touches over shoulder blades, hips, something shifts - cold is welcomed the more arousal spreads at the pit of her stomach, cheeks getting warmer as hand finds ithaca's. "keep going," barely a whisper, hand guiding the other's palm inside her lounging pants, spreading over her ass.

her other hand grips tight at the balcony railing, manicured fingers creating half moons on the skin of her palm. ithaca doesn't need to be told further, hand tracing the line of natasha's thong and tugging just about for it to be seen through her leggings. she pulls them down slowly - a certain carefulness put from the fact that they're still in view despite the late hour. natasha complies when ordered to bend over, ithaca's fingers already along the clothed slit from ass to cunt, alerting every nerve in its movements. "please just ... give it to me."

cold finger slides between folds, cold feeling turning her numb underneath and making natasha wish she could already get pounded into the mattress, overstimulated but oh so cleared of any thoughts. other hand slides around her waist, keeping her bent over the railing, wet folds exposed and puffy from the repeated cold touches. trembling sigh pushes past lips when ithaca starts pumping one finger, natasha's teeth biting on lower lip holding herself from telling the other to freeze and use her as she pleased.

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSURPRISE ; but they don't permit it to show. ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Rare, as the moons' blue hue, for another kind ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ to be encountered so freely. GLAMOUR is donned ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ well, and they're forced to stand upright.

She had explained herself, but Chris didn't know how keen he was on trusting a bioweapon—especially not one from the castle that would have a thirst for blood and the strength to take that blood if she decided she wanted it… but as he stared at her, he knew that he wouldn't be able to leave Ithaca or give her up to someone that might want to experiment on her. Maybe his heart was too big for this job, but Chris found himself heaving a sigh as he removed his jacket to drape it over her shoulders.