Nothing important

The two girls stood in Citrinas’ personal study, several weak beams of light piercing the darkness as dusk fell over the pocket dimension. There was a solitary desk and an enchanted artifact that generated light from stored magic power, Citrinas instinctively pumping magic into it to illuminate the room. Vast bookshelves decorated the walls, each one holding numerous books and research papers of the most cutting edge formulas in alchemy and magic. Half of them came from fellow humans who were out to master the laws of reality, while the other half were acquired from the elves over the years, each one a law that transcended modern understanding.

It had been nearly 2 years since she last had been in this room, and Citrinas couldn't help but wonder whether this was truly her study, the appearance far different from when she had last used it. It was once a den unfit for pigs, her own hygienic practices lacking when it came to her personal rooms. Once, dust caked the walls and while random research papers were left strewn about, the mage never bothering to clean or maintain it since it was her personal study. She distinctly remembered a chunk of unfinished salt pork she had left in the corner that had dried out, become jerky, then was well on its way to being fossilized, yet it was nowhere to be found with the plate replaced by a jar containing candied citrus peels. Due to their preserved nature, the snack was unlikely to go bad, and as a secondary effect they gave off an enticingly sweet scent that filled the room . Speaking of scent, she was surprised to find that the smell of mold that usually permeated the room was absent, now replaced by a mix of the candied citrus peels and faint floral scent that followed Verdi wherever he went.

The desk was barren save for a slip of paper where Verdi had written a coded system separating each paper by subject. When looking at the bookshelves, it seemed he had also meticulously set the papers by alphabetical order by title. Judging by how well organized it was, he’d likely read every book in Citrinas’ castle and ordered them as such while everyone was asleep. The random moldy teapots Citrinas had left out were gone, now replaced with clean tea sets and satchels of neatly organized tea leaves that were somehow arranged by her personal tastes. Had she not wanted to tell Fenri the contents of Verdi’s note, Citrinas would have brewed herself a batch of tea and sat in her study to catch up on her reading.

“This is Helverian. At least, it's an older dialect of it.” Citrinas explained, pushing her intrusive thoughts away as Fenri stared at the note, hoping that she could read it. After a moment she snapped her fingers in realization, the term clicking in her mind at that moment.

“His native tongue is elven?” She asked, finally recognizing which race spoke this language. Considering she came from an entirely different world, the fact that she could identify the language was surprising. It was moments like these that reminded Citrinas that the hero wasn’t the wild savage she ran around pretending to be, but a fellow member of nobility. She had a strong grasp of the legislature of heroes, easily identified powerful factions, and picked up new tongues with ease.

“Helverian is the language closest related to the Ancient’s language. This note has some deviances from true Ancient Helverian but it's a very close relative, so I can still read it.” Citrinas explained as Fenri rubbed her chin, trying to remember Ruyanei’s history. Elves were the only race that had lived long enough to personally meet the Ancients, and thus held the greatest cultural similarities with this advanced civilization. It was odd why they refused to industrialize or spread knowledge of the Ancients, considering even the weakest of the Ancients’ tech could take over the world with ease.

“So Verdi’s WAY older than we thought or he was raised by elves?” She asked, only for Citrinas to shake her head

“I think Verdi’s from another world. The Ancients were a vast civilization that spanned multiple worlds. Every world with humans and monsters is descended from Ancients, and I think his world had stronger ties to them than ours.” She said as Fenri squinted at her, assuming the arch-imago to be joking. Sadly, sarcasm and humor was not a talent in her arsenal as Fenri scoffed.

“How would the Ancients of your world be in Verdi’s world? In case you haven’t noticed, hopping worlds is tough.” Fenri said, the hero well accustomed to how complex it was to traverse worlds. For her, hopping worlds required she be killed, have her soul transferred to another world, then having the gods craft her a new body from scratch. An entire civilization spanning diverse worlds would be impossible, but Citrinas knew that it had been done in the past.

“The Ancients were a powerful civilization. There’s a good chance your world had them too considering monsters and humans from every world look humanoid.” Citrinas answered, the hero chuckling while shaking her head.

“If my world had an ancient civilization, I’d know. As for humans and monsters, it could be a result of convergent evolution where human bodies are the objective best form in every world.” She said as Citrinas sighed, realizing Fenri likely came from a religious world that preached insane things like evolution of humans rather than creationism. Evolution did exist as was seen with crops and animals, but humans and monsters were the result of the almighty Ancients crafting them. She was almost ashamed to hear Fenri had such insane beliefs.

“Then why can heroes interbreed with both monsters and the people of Ruyanei without issue? There’s a limit to convergent evolution.” She countered as Fenri bit her lip, unable to respond to her point. There was a limit to convergent evolution’s capabilities, and interbreeding between species was unlikely unless the two species had a common ancestor.

“Why do you even know a 40,000 year old obscure dialect anyway?” Fenri asked, going back to the main topic rather than debate theology with the arch-imago. Knowing that time was against them and Verdi would wake up at any moment, Citrinas went along with her.

“The academy I was trained at was run by some of the older elves who lived during the time of the Ancients, so I picked up some of the language. I’m still having trouble reading it, but the characters and syntax are similar enough.” Citrinas answered as Fenri looked back at the note.

“So what did he write?” She asked as Citrinas cleared her throat, holding the note up to the window’s light to read. As soon as she read the first sentence, Fenri knew that this was undoubtedly Verdi’s handiwork, his style of talking unchanged. She almost wanted to revise the note to make it easier for Fenri to understand, but her gut told her to keep it the same in case Fenri noticed something she didn’t.

“Greetings. Cease your distress you immensely unintelligent buttocks. The author of this note is yourself imbued with your past. During my return, our body’s integrity was compromised and had to be destroyed. The fanged kiss of Bell had an impact we had not anticipated. Another blow like that and our fates will be sealed. I advise you to do two things. The first is to remain ignorant of your past lest we invite ****. The second is to keep the contents of our note hidden. This tongue is a long dead one from a forgotten era of a foreign realm, so it is doubtful anyone can see through it.” Citrinas read out, reading each character word for word as Fenri politely raised a hand. Expecting her to have some insight, she nodded as if to give the hero approval to speak.

“Princess, what the fuck? Do you expect me to believe Verdi wrote this?” She asked, unable to think of their crass mouthed alchemist speaking in such a formal tone as Citrinas sighed.

“Helverian is a formal language. Just take these words and pretend he said them.” Citrinas said as Fenri glared at her in silence. With a sigh, she took a deep breath and spoke, translating from Helverian to Verdi-speak.

“Hey, stop panicking you big dumbass. This is you with your memories writing this. Our body was compromised and destroyed. Bell biting us did something bad. Don't let her bite us again or we will seriously die. You are better off forgetting everything if possible. Keep the contents of this note to yourself. This language is a dead tongue from another world, so I’m pretty sure nobody will know how to read this.” She said, her light voice and soft tone contrasting with the crude content of her words. To her relief, Fenri accepted the translation without complaint, her imitation of Verdi near flawless.

“What does he mean by his body being compromised and destroyed? He looks fine to me.” She said before sniffing the air. “Plus, people who are panicking or being hurt at least sweat more. He was completely calm during the entire conversation.” She said as Citrinas took that little tidbit into account. Tracking by scent was her specialty, meaning Verdi was either VERY good at staying calm, or he wasn’t actually panicking. Considering the proof she had, it probably meant he was just great at hiding his emotions.

“I think he was in pain and hiding it while he was talking with us earlier.” Citrinas said, thinking back to the little odd things Verdi did. He tried to make it seem natural, but even Citrinas could tell that something was wrong.

“What makes you say that?” Fenri asked as Citrinas thought back to the start of their meeting.

“Remember when Evangeline hit him? He asked if she could feel his pain. I think he was worried she’d notice and tell us something was wrong.” Citrinas said, thinking back to when Evangeline punched his guts in to heal him after Bell had dismembered him. He’d asked her if she had as much fun doing that as he did. Usually he’d complain of getting hit or give some joke.

“That’s just Verdi being a sarcastic ass. I know you have trouble noticing, but he was insulting her.” Fenri said, not realizing this style of humor was abnormal. Regardless, Citrinas continued to lay out evidence something was wrong with Verdi.

“I saw him flinch mid-conversation too. It was brief, but I saw it.” She said, thinking back to the end of the conversation. He flinched in pain out of the blue. It was a fraction of a second, but Citrinas saw it. Verdi had the highest pain tolerance of the team, so actually seeing him flinch in pain was a rarity. Holy magic and being dissolved by Evangeline’s stomach acid were the two times she’d seen him actually reacting. Despite that, Fenri looked unconvinced.

“I didn’t see that. You sure you aren't worrying over nothing?” She asked as Citrinas gave up her final piece of proof.

“When Bell stole your Blessing, you didn’t pass out when it ended. Verdi is completely **** right now.” She said as Fenri snorted in response, not realizing or not caring about the implications.

“So? His Blessing is weird as hell. Him passing out might be just him being weird.” Fenri answered as Citrinas groaned, the normally sharp hero somehow missing the most obvious thing in the world. Considering Fenri’s relationship with Verdi in their early days, Citrinas was absolutely baffled that she didn’t realize what was wrong.

“When’s the last time you saw him fall asleep?” Citrinas asked as Fenri went silent, the question lingering in the air as she thought back over their travels. Verdi was physically incapable of sleeping due to hybridization, and would do random chores while they slept to keep himself amused, proven by her newly organized study. She’d only seen him **** once in their travels, and that was when Fenri beat him into a coma using divine magic. He was inches away from **** back then. Now here he was, **** once more.

Something had gone very wrong, and now Fenri finally realizing it.

“Alright, I'm convinced, keep reading the note, but translate it so it doesn’t sound like a noble wrote this.” Fenri said as Citrinas nodded, reading the note and converting it to a style of talking Verdi would use in day to day life at the same time.

“In 3 days, hell might break loose. Find Tristiana, help her build the spark gap generator or find out who the traitors are and stop them from sabotaging her. If she or any of the other heroes fail, it is VERY bad. The world won’t end, but we’ll have to use our Blessing and, well, we don’t want to use it. Our patron goddess is the goddess of Zakrifies. Just say the word Zakrivies and your Blessing will activate. It is a last resort, do not trust her. She sterilized us, took our spirit power, most of our magic power, and our memories already. Don’t use it unless you have to where the choice is life or ****.” Citrinas read out, giving more proof that Verdi was far more important than he initially seemed. More importantly, he was doing his best to dissuade his current self from using his Blessing unless absolutely necessary, as though he was afraid of using it.

“Zakrivies?” Fenri asked, the term unfamiliar to her as Citrinas shrugged.

“I don’t know what this word is, so I’m sounding it out. All I can say is that Verdi is a hero from another world. This isn't one of our gods.” She explained as Fenri frowned, the hero well accustomed to how hard it was to traverse worlds. To travel worlds required the intervention of the gods themselves, and even they had to expend vast amounts of energy to do so. The fact that Verdi had a patron deity foreign to Ruyanei meant he had some other way to traverse worlds.

“So why come here? World domination?” Fenri asked as Citrinas shook her head at the mere thought of the alchemist even attempting world domination. Verdi might joke about doing so to make endless statues of him, but he had a strict code. He wanted to earn the statues, not have them made. Furthermore, he was working with Eren, and Eren had the skills and connections to take a large amount of the world if given the chance. Instead he was content to just spread word of the Roses and work as a mere mercenary until the end. World domination or conquest was not something either of them were attempting.

“I’m not sure. If Eren really wanted to conquer the world, he could have done so, and Verdi is obviously friends with Eren.” Citrinas answered before going to the next part of the note. Just before she could read it, she blushed and muttered to herself. “I’m gonna skip to the important part. This is just garbage.” She mumbled as Fenri leaned forward, hoping to read over her shoulder.

“What did he say?” She asked finally as Citrinas shook her head.

“Not important.” She repeated as Fenri glared at her.

“Read it.” The hero commanded as she groaned, taking the formal tongue of Helverian and translating to Verdi-speak once more. As she read, she couldn’t help but applaud his linguistic ability. Even with the language barrier restricting him, he found a way to be perverse.

“After you've completed Olskroya's plan, you will have a few weeks to relax. I advise the 100 girl gauntlet from Belsach. Could even see if Fenri and I can do the gauntlet back to back so we can share the portrait. Just be careful, it takes hours to finish the victory portrait and you’ll have to maintain an erection the entire time. I also think it might be fun to have an orgy or see if the other bar patrons want to switch girls. Might be fun to watch Citrinas and Fenri get fucked by a pack of wolfmen while I fuck their girls.” Citrinas read out before looking at Fenri, the hero unsure whether to laugh or cry at the note. She eventually decided to sigh and rub her eyes.

“He had a few minutes of cognizance, his body was slowly dying, he knew that some traitor was manipulating everyone, and he wrote half a page on how much he wanted to fuck us?” She asked aloud in disbelief before frowning looking wistfully up to the ceiling. “Actually, that sounds like something he’d do.” She said with a shrug, seeing nothing amiss as Citrinas groaned. She rubbed her forehead to ease her growing headache while mentally debating whether Fenri was making Verdi worse, or if he was making her worse from their time together.

“I’ll skip to the important part. Most of this is just kinky sex.” She said, skipping over 70% of his note only for Fenri to stop her.

“No, no, keep reading, it might be a coded clue.” She said as Citrinas pointed to a random paragraph on the paper and translating it.

“If Verdi somehow managed to create a code in Helverian regarding you using him as your cock to ram me and my sister while we fellate each other’s mutated clits, then he is far smarter than we could ever comprehend and his code is ironclad.” Citrinas said in an exasperated voice. Perhaps Verdi really did have a code hidden in the paragraphs of sexual encounters and he truly was an unparalleled genius, but knowing him there was no code. He just wanted to have some dirty fun. Judging by the glazed look in Fenri’s eyes as she drank in the sight of Citrinas’ body, it seemed she agreed with him.

“God imagine cumming like that. I fill you two with my cum, you fill your sister's mouth while she fills your mouth.” She said as Citrinas set the letter aside on her study.

“I'm not having sex with my sister!” She shouted angrily as Fenri held her hands up non threateningly.

“Don't think of it as sex with your sister, think of it as an extra moist hug.” She said, hoping to sway Citrinas as she clicked her tongue at just how thoroughly Verdi had corrupted the hero. She was once known as the loner hero who avoided human contact in lieu of combat. Now she was anything but that, happily spending her time with Verdi to do everything from gamble to sex.

“Focus! The last part is what concerns me.” She said, forcing the hero back to reality as she got to reading the important part of the note. It was written in tiny scrawled letters since he ran out of room, most of the sheet occupied with his sexual goals. It almost seemed like an afterthought considering how quickly it was written.

“What is it?” Fenri asked as Citrinas pointed to the tiny passage. The letters were so small Fenri had to squint to see that they weren’t just random squiggles on the paper. Taking a deep breath, Citrinas wrote the most worrying part of Verdi’s note.

“After you have your fun, destroy all proof of your existence and go straight to the Appolyon Gates. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going, just leave for their safety. Tristiana and the other hybrids can save Eren without you. When you enter the Gates, don’t turn to the Light. It’s best nobody knows anything, you’ll understand why in due time.” The way he had written the paragraph, it sounded like an afterthought, treating the process like a trip to the market.

As she finished reading, Fenri’s passive disposition soured, the mere mention of the Gates breaking whatever composure she had. She clenched her fist, trying to formulate a word to properly articulate her feelings, yet she couldn’t find a proper word to utter outside of her native tongue as she let out a flurry of foreign cursing. Citrinas felt the same way, Verdi’s casual admission of entering the Gates akin to suicide. No, it was worse than suicide.

When someone died, their souls could be reincarnated later with no recollection of their past self outside of **** circumstances. Killing someone was just a temporary way to get rid of them. **** was by no means a kind act to inflict upon another, but it paled in comparison to being locked in the Gates. To be locked in the gates was akin to having one’s very soul destroyed.

The Gates were a realm where time did not flow properly, and served as a prison for the worst criminals of the multiverse. To seal someone away in the Apollyon was the greatest taboo one could inflict to another being, and was reserved only for entities that could not or should not be killed lest they reincarnate. To willingly enter them was to destroy your very existence until someone took pity upon you and released you. It was a pitch black prison where the only light came from the world you came from. To refuse to turn to the light would be to abandon hope of escape.

“Princess, are you sure you translated this right?” Fenri asked, the hero throwing a glance to the wall, as though she could see through it and stare at their still **** alchemist. Citrinas felt her heart also sink, equally disturbed at the thought of Verdi leaving them to inflict such a horrific punishment to himself. She had met warlords who had **** children to fight each other for the right to bed them, madmen who slaughtered scores of innocents, and even the insane Collector who **** people for her sick collection. If people like them were not deserving of the Gates, then why was Verdi even entertaining the thought of doing such a thing?

“The letters for Apollyon Gates are quite distinct. I’m not wrong, he wants to go in there.” She declared firmly as Fenri clicked her tongue. Her olive skin reddened as sweat built up on her, the sheer outrage in her body causing it to instinctively prepare for combat. She paced to and fro, her hand instinctively reaching to her knife as though she could stab her problems away only to curse in her native tongue.

“Doesn’t he get that when you get in the Gates, you aren’t coming out unless someone drags you out!? Does he realize how fucking terrible the Gates are? Why the fuck would he even think about going in?” She asked as Citrinas clenched her fist, a theory popping to mind. They had spent a long time traveling with Verdi. Even without his memories, his personality remained intact. His likes, dislikes, and tastes were left intact. There was one theory she had.

“I think he did something he regrets and believes he should be punished. My other theory is that he's ashamed of his past, and thinks we'll find out what he did.” She said, giving her theory into why he would entertain such an insane plan. Upon hearing her explanation, Fenri scowled even further, both theories incomprehensible to her.

“The fuck are you talking about?” She asked as Citrinas gave her logic behind her suggestion.

“He’s always been stricter on himself than anyone else, and he’s incredibly idealistic when it comes to what a hero is. Something we’d consider good work is an abject failure to him.” She explained, thinking back to their time together. She didn’t want to insult him, but Verdi had severe self esteem issues.

He was one of the best alchemists she’d ever met, had crafted items on the level of elves using random scraps they found in a market, and faced down opponents that severely outclassed him. Despite that, he seemed to always be in a terrible mood when looking at his creations, viewed his own talent as subpar, and viewed his own combat prowess as luck rather than skill. He had incredible skill accompanied by impossibly high standards. As Fenri heard Citrinas’ explanation, some of his minor comments reared their ugly head, the statements they had dismissed now markers for his mental instability. She spent several minutes cursing in her native tongue once more, the hero even more agitated than ever.

“He could have ate and **** babies for fun in the past, and I’d still be on his side. He’s obviously trying to do better. Fuck, if anything he overcorrected considering he let the fucking Collector live.” She spat, the sentiment shared with Citrinas. His past life might have been wrought with bloodshed or shame, but he regretted his actions and desired to put it behind him. He should be repenting for his sins, not punished for them.

“Agreed. Whatever he did in the past, he’s redeemed himself.” She said with a nod. “But how are we going to convince him to ignore a note from himself?” She asked, content to see that they were in agreement for once. Fenri looked at her, searching for signs of humor only to groan in defeat, mimicking Citrinas’ past annoyance as she swiped the note out of the arch-imago’s hand. Before she could react, the hero reached to her array of knives strapped to her waist, her fingers tracing the handles as if they hid some hidden text. Her hand eventually halted on a wooden handle, the hero pulling the blade out from its sheath. It glimmered underneath the setting sun as Citrinas studied the knife, hoping it was some magic artifact that would fix their problem.

It was a tiny knife, a mere 3 inches in length and thin enough to look comical in the tall hero’s hands. Focusing on the knife, Citrinas could see that it was sharper than her usual blades, the fine edge improving her cutting ability at the cost of durability. After a moment, she recognized the knife as a paring knife, the blade only seen in skilled hunters stripping their prey. Slamming the note on Citrinas’ desk, Fenri flicked her wrist, the shining blade carving a straight line across the parchment. A moment later Verdi’s passage demanding he enter the Gates fell from the rest of the note, his final request separate from his plans of defiling his party members.

“Problem solved. He gets his Blessing back, we get your sister, he fucks us, and he stays with us when everything is over.” Fenri said happily, returning the note to Citrinas as she looked down at the discarded scrap of paper the hero had clutched in her fingers.

“Fenri! This is his note! We can't just-” She began, only for Fenri to **** it into Citrinas’ hands. Forcing the mage’s hands to close around the scrap, Fenri looked her in the eyes with eyes so intense it could melt steel. Rather than being a look of animosity, the hero had the eyes of a pleading friend at the end of her rope. She was just as scared to lose Verdi to the Gates as Citrinas was.

“I can’t do this without you.” The hero conceded, knowing full well Citrinas could just tell Verdi the truth. “You can either stay quiet and let him live a happy life with us, or you can have someone who genuinely loves both of us throw his life away because he can’t see that he’s good enough for us” She said, the hero letting a trace of emotion into her voice as Citrinas felt her insides crawl. Verdi trusted them with his very past and had outright admitted his affection for them. To betray his trust so quickly left her with a sick taste in her mouth, her gut demanding she tell him the truth and convince him he should stay with them.

“This is a blatant breach of trust. Fenri, he gave us this letter, told us how much he loved us. We’re betraying him.” She said, still resisting as Fenri pointed to the wall where Verdi was asleep on the other side.

“Do you think he’d be happy in the Gates?” She askeed as Citrinas went quiet, her desire to keep Verdi close and the desire to meet the expectations he had given her fighting within her. Giving her no time to think, Fenri continued talking, grabbing the arch-imago’s shoulder while raising her hand as if to illustrate something in the air for her. .

“Imagine your life a year from now, Princess. You're in the lab, you're happily helping him make some other weird machine he saw in a dream that, I dunno, lets people fly without magic.” Fenri began, the image she was weaving precisely just what she wanted to do with him when their journey ended. She’d initially wanted to just live with him and have him in charge of sourcing reagents for alchemy, but now she knew that he knew far more than she could imagine. The fact that he still needed help to create things like radars or motors was actually a boon for her, the process of discovering how things worked far more enticing than being told how they worked. Despite that, she felt sick at the thought of lying to Verdi for her own desires.

“I’m not going to screw him over just so I’m happy.” Citrinas said, still not fully convinced. Telling Verdi about the note and convincing him to stay was the moral path and she knew it. Despite that, Fenri continued talking,

“But Princess, he’s happy too. After all, what man wouldn’t be happy to have kids with the two women he loves?” Fenri asked as Citrinas flinched, her hand absentmindedly reaching her stomach as though she were hungry. She felt her womb throb in delight as a few droplets of milk leaked from her chest, her female instincts convinced by Fenri’s offer. She had to reach to a chair to support her wobbly legs, Fenri instantly smelling the milk flowing from her and shining a devilish grin.

“He’s cursed by his goddess to be sterile, he can’t have kids.” Citrinas reminded, trying to stifle her body’s reaction to the mere thought of being bred. She could feel her shirt growing damp while fem-cum drenched her panties. Her clit stiffened while her womb was pulsing like a second heart, her body at odds with the reality that children were not an option for Verdi.

“We can just find out why getting bit by vampires hurts him, find a way to prevent it, then let a dozen vampires drink his blood and give him his virility back. We have him breed us both as his personal seedbeds.” Fenri said as Citrinas bit her lip. Bell managed to remove one of his curses by biting him. A few more skilled vampires, or even just one lucky bite to steal the right curse was all it would take.

“I can tell someone’s convinced.” Fenri said with a smirk, reaching forward and groping underneath Citrinas’ skirt, her fingers tracing the mage’s now drenched panties before pulling them away. A long thread of grool connected her fingers to Citrinas, the sight of it causing her to to blush profusely as the hero’s hands idly moved onto her chest. A gentle squeeze was all it took to drench her clothing, spots of white now falling away as Citrinas silently cursed Verdi for how perverse he’d made her body. She quickly shoved Fenri back while covering her chest and crotch with her hands despite being fully clothed.

“Fine, I won’t say anything either. Not because I want to be bred, but because he doesn’t deserve to be put in the Gates.” Citrinas said indignantly, her words doing little to convince Fenri raised one of her hands and licked it, the hero lapping up the residual milk like a cat would a milk saucer.

“Knew you’d see reason.” Fenri said cheerily while taking a step forwards. Before Citrinas could react, Fenri undid the knots on her outfit, the shirt and skirt falling away and leaving Citrinas in nothing but her panties. “Now let’s head to bed!” She said cheerily, tossing the outfit into her inventory before doing the same to her own outfit, the two women now stark naked. At first Citrinas felt self conscious, her milk and fem cum staining her skin only to see that Fenri’s body was no different, the hero just as turned on by the prospect of impregnation.

“What are you doing!? Give me my clothes back!” Citrinas demanded, only for Fenri to grab the arch-imago in a princess carry and bring her naked body back to the main bedroom where Verdi was asleep. “Hey! Let me go!” She demanded as Fenri kicked the doors open, the alchemist still comatose. His brown hair was tangled around him while his effeminate face looked almost picturesque, as though he were a heroine from a fairy tale. Before Citrinas could study any further, Fenri tossed her into the bed.

“I promised past Verdi I’d have our Verdi wake up with the two of us naked and lying next to him. If we’re breaking one promise, the least we can do is fulfill the other.” Fenri explained as Citrinas sighed, hiding underneath the blankets for warmth while pressing her chest into Verdi’s arm, her milk spraying out and drenching him at the slight pressure. She felt her womb throb when she saw his face, his peaceful expression forcing her heart and womb to compete in which could thump harder in her.

“Of course you’re pulling a prank on him.” Citrinas said with an annoyed voice, realizing Verdi had fully corrupted the once taciturn hero into an easygoing prankster like him. Fenri went underneath the covers, pulling his pants down as she began lapping away at his balls, her long dextrous tongue spit shining every inch of his oversized sack. “What are you even doing?” She asked, watching his sheath slowly emerge from his body.

“Selling the prank. If he wakes up and his cock isn’t drenched in pussy juice or spit, he’ll be onto us.” Fenri answered, planting kisses and licks on both his shafts, his medial ring expanding as the tentacle studded region of his cock emerged in all its glory. She quickly amassed as much saliva as possible before opening her mouth and hilting herself to his lower cock, her lips pressed against the base of his shaft while her tongue swirled around the barbs beneath his medial ring.

“He was just knocked out. We should be treating him as nicely as possible, not pranking him.” Citrinas said as Fenri pulled her head out from his second cock and returned to lacquering his balls with her tongue.

“He’s waking up to two horny women sucking him off and begging to be impregnated by him. What a terrible prank.” Fenri said, the sarcasm in her voice so thick that even Citrinas could see it. “Now do you wanna join in, or you wanna finger yourself while he fucks me?” She asked as Citrinas crawled under the covers, mimicking Fenri’s movements as she got to work lapping at his cock and balls. As if on cue, Verdi twitched, letting out a groan as he woke up from his coma.