The world-or rather the universe at large, she supposed, given that she no longer resided in her original world-never seemed to run out of ways to confuse, astound, and most importantly, infuriate her. Starting with being confronted by the imposter god ‘Being X’ after a disgruntled ex-employee decided murder was an acceptable and civilized solution to their current financial position, leading to a lifetime of persecution in a war torn hellscape and finally, her immediate issues: Dying of hypothermia, and/or starvation on the Eastern Front. A courtesy extended to her, via the consideration of the General Staff-even with full knowledge of their already bare provisions and near death they had already experienced for months now.

Or rather, that issue was finding itself somewhat postponed, in light of recent... developments, regarding both herself and her adjutant; the lieutenant she had long ago recommended for officer’s training and saved from the Rhine Theatre had blossomed under her care, transitioning into a capable combatant and decisive leader in only months of instruction-becoming so much more in the years to follow. Far more now than just a glorified meat shield as how she were to consider the rank and file infantry, or even a valuable asset like the rest of her 203rd; the lieutenant-Visha-had engraved herself inside Tanya somewhere the younger colonel had trouble identifying, and while the newfound empathy-if only for one individual in particular-was uncomfortable, she found the benefits from such an arrangement to be well worth the exasperation.

What had started as a misunderstanding had developed into a slow and casual easing into something more intimate, culminating in what she now was still finding difficult to process. Their most recent efforts in repelling the Russy forces stubbornly defending the line had been accompanied with orders to push inward following the enemy’s route-foolhardy even with provisions during the cold of winter, impossible for the exhausted and under-equipped soldiers of the Salamander KampfGruppe, even under the banner of the legendary Argent (Now Rusted) Silver.

But she followed orders. For all the wisdom of her two lives, a combined 50+ years of experience-even if she could barely remember the specifics at times-following orders, no matter how suicidal had been stubbornly hardwired into her; producing results from impossible odds had been her forte, and with every mounting victory, her commanders had seen fit to simply send her at the enemy regardless of context, satisfied in the knowledge that no matter the difficulty, she would somehow make it work.

And as she watched the retreating enemy vanish into the fog of war, she could already feel the cold machinations of Being X at work-her own forces near indiscernible within the approaching blizzard, no sense of direction to be found and even with her mage shell at full yield, the biting cold still began to seep into her bones. Seeing no other alternative, she flew in close to her second and pulled them both to ground; landing in one of the hundreds of recently vacated trenches they had been shelling only hours prior, at least the snow had covered up most of the corpses.

There was no shelter likely for tens of kilometers, any trench bunkers long since collapsed-either via the earlier bombardments, or the work of Russy sappers to deny a foothold. Only the few meters between them and the top of the trench provided and comfort from the wind, and did nothing to disperse the heavy snowfall or ease away the chill of night; the wind was still loud enough to drown out any attempt at speech-even the nearby Panzers had gone silent in the face of such howling-however speech was unneeded, they each remembered the survival training that the then second lieutenant had drilled into them (Visha at least, being on the receiving end of such lessons) as rookie members of the 203rd, and after that both were extensively familiar with life in the Siberian Tundra by this point in the war. However familiar the situation was, it did not change the unfortunate fact that survivability was low; if this had been their first winter here, it may have been a different story-but years of malnutrition and extensive combat had left their constitution fragile, no matter how hardened their will.

While Visha hollowed out a small crevasse with her trusty entrenching tool, Tanya set to work on procuring as many of the abandoned heaters and stoves as she could, cannibalizing parts and oils as she efficiently jerryrigged a makeshift hearth for the two. With little more to do after securing their impromptu lodgings, Tanya nuzzled into her partner’s lap, partially embedded in the larger woman’s unzipped flight suit such that they could properly share their body heat. It was hardly the first time they had shared a bed-it was practically a nightly ritual for them, even before they were actively together in a romantic sense, they had indulged for the sake of comfort and health during over the protracted campaign-afterwards it had become a solidifying facet of their relationship.

Now, it was about bitter survival. With no words of comfort, or gentle caresses-the dire nature of their situation did not allow for either of them to enjoy the one nightly event that normally brought them both a sense of safety and relaxation, away from the horrors of war and the stern facade Col. Degurechaff was required to maintain, even towards her adjutant, whilst on duty. When they were alone, wrapped up in one another, Visha found that the only time when her partner was truly vulnerable. And, looking down through frosted eyelashes at the girl’s head buried in her bosom, eyes screwed shut and trembling-her heart ached at the sight.

What had initially attracted Visha to the normally thought unapproachable Ace of Aces was her unflappable determination and levelheadedness in the face of extreme difficulty; having served under her for years, what had made her love the blonde had been what she glimpsed in secret-knowing that she was human under the guise of her legend had brought her off the pedestal Visha had unwittingly placed her on, but in doing so had made her love attainable. Col. Degurechaff, the Argent Silver was unstoppable, inspiring, and she did not exist.

Or rather, she was one side of Tanya Von Degurechaff, the scared young girl who had enlisted in the military because she saw no other options in life, then thrust unfairly into combat at the behest of old fools and obsolete war doctrines. A girl who followed orders obediently, who tried to please everyone no matter the cost, the perfect soldier moulded by the deaths of thousands. And, a truly broken individual, fearful every second and unable to close the distance between herself and anyone else because of her trauma.

She had already been infatuated, but she hadn’t realized who Tanya truly was until they first shared a bed; uncharacteristically, the colonel had grown hesitant at the mention, only acquiescing to the idea after several minutes of consideration and Visha’s patient smile. After they both undressed and clambered into bed, it had taken a while for the younger of the pair to succumb to her exhaustion-Visha’s own heart raced in her chest, but the excitement of being in such close proximity to her crush had vanished upon closer observation.

Seeing the distress upon her pale face, and how tightly she gripped the brunette’s nightclothes, even while unconscious had surprised her. She had only ever seen two emotions on her commander’s face, besides her usual calm neutrality: Smug satisfaction, and irritation. But the honesty displaying itself before her was heartbreaking. She looked so helpless. Like she was afraid Visha would vanish if she let go for even a second.

Brushing the moisture from her eyes, Visha had wrapped her arms tight around the diminutive blonde and hadn’t let go until the following morning, never sleeping until the dissonant shudders had trailed off into even and calm breaths. It had been the start for Visha, the real beginning where she fell in love with Tanya instead of her legend-and when she decided she would do anything to keep her safe, even at the cost of her own life.

But now, she‘s back in the trench, huddled in a divot beneath three meters of snow and dirt and the shudders won’t stop. Both of them are shaking, neither can sleep with the excruciating cold battering them even wrapped up beside their ad-hoc fireplace. It wasn’t enough. They had both been using manna to augment their mage shells, sacrificing protectiveness for temperature regulation, and it still wasn’t enough. Hours passed and the storm raged around them, neither light nor intensity differing at any point; they were trapped, the Kampfgruppe had no doubt either pressed on, or were stuck in the same situation they were. The only option was to wait out a blizzard with no food and dwindling body heat.

Suddenly, Tanya’s smaller form pulled away from her-cracks of ices dropping from their flight suits at the motion. Mumbling something Visha still couldn’t make out over the roaring wind, she saw thin fingers reaching into her suit’s collar; with narrowed eyes, Visha grasped Tanya’s arm, careful not to injure the smaller girl. They had talked about this. It had taken over a year of steady prying, but Tanya had finally elucidated as to the nature of the Elenium Type 95-the prototype to her own Type 97, but far more powerful and with devastating caveats.

She hated when Tanya used it.

The fact that no one else had managed to work the device had brought Visha to the conclusion that it was the girl, not the computation orb that was the key component and even beyond that, the orb itself was critically broken in some way. She became a different person, for lack of a better word; haughty, fanatical, and worst of all-she seemed dismissive, if not outright disgusted by not only Visha but their entire relationship while under it’s effects. She didn’t blame Tanya for this, it was the machine’s fault-and Tanya had little to know memory of it’s usage afterwards-but Visha couldn’t help but resent the time that orb had stolen from them both.

So when she looked at the desperation etched into Tanya’s expression, Visha’s eyes couldn’t help but soften as she slowly released her grip. They both agreed that she would only use it as a last resort, and she knew that their odds of survival were dropping from slim to zero with every passing second of wasted energy-and the Type 95 could, in theory, protect them from the elements far better than a souped up space heater or their own meagre shells. As Tanya clasped the crimson orb between her shaking palms, Visha braced herself for the cool disdain that always accompanied Johanna of Berun-able to hear the words of prayer clearly even over the raging gale swirling past their nook.

When nothing happened for several moments, Visha opened her eyes; rather than the sharp glare of Tanya’s dissociative personality, a dazed expression had overtaken the blonde-her eyes flickering between a cloudy cyan and the golden hue they achieved whilst operating the Type 95. In a panic, Visha ripped the orb from her grasp, Tanya immediately collapsing in a heap beside her. As she scooped the girl into her arms once more, she realized that Tanya likely hadn’t been able to activate the device properly due to the cold; they never discussed why the computation orb required prayer as an activation code, but she secretly suspected Dr. Schugel as the culprit, given her limited exposure to the man’s fanatical rants prior to Operation Revolving Door. The reminder of Tanya’s time spent as the mad scientist’s test subject sent a pang of grief through her chest, before she regarded the discombobulated blonde once more.

Not unconscious, but completely incoherent and almost brainless in her stupor-Tanya nibbled at the exposed digits of Visha’s left hand. While absolutely adorable, it did hurt-the constant exposure in a subzero climate made her body ache; fighting with little to no sleep, and almost nothing to eat had made both of them weak-but of the pair, Visha was taller, more sturdily built. She would have a greater chance of survival, having been well fed prior to the war as a recruit, and existing in posh comfort as a Russy Noble in Moskva before that.

Tanya, on the other hand, lived an impoverished life as an orphan and had her growth stunted by harsh labour and constant stress as a soldier. Of the two, Tanya required sustenance far more than she. Chewing her lip in hesitation, Visha slowly pried her fingers back, strands of saliva dripping from where Tanya had been sucking on them. Blushing as she gazed weakly to Tanya’s unfocused eyes, Visha steeled herself and unzipped the rest of her flight jacket.

After a few more moments, she shed the remainder of her flight kit and uniform. The cold stung now more than ever, and she could feel herself growing faint-but the the sight of Tanya’s trembling figure strengthened the fire in her chest and drew her forward; embracing the blonde, she whispered words of love into her ears, unable to know if they would be remembered or even heard to begin with. Wiping the slight buildup of drool from Tanya’s lower lip, she pressed her own against them with purpose. Her lips were cracked, bloody and absolutely freezing-but Visha wouldn’t have traded their final kiss for the world.

Others would finish the fight in Moskva, and she knew Tanya would be able to win the war for the Empire given time and opportunity, but this-only Visha could make sure she got there. As she felt what meager resistance Tanya held in her damaged mind slip away, Visha’s only regret was that she would miss all the future moments spent by Tanya’s side. If she could have stolen her away from the war she would have done so years prior-but in the end, she can at least do this.

All things aside, it was hot. It was a bizarre, thick hotness accompanied by a slick rubbery sensation sliding past her that bordered on a stifling heat compared to the years of frost she had experienced. It was enough to ebb away what little fear and hesitation she still felt, knowing full well the consequences of her decision but unable to muster any negative feelings because of it. She had chosen this, and if it provided her love with even a single second of extra time she would happily give herself up to provide it.

She realized that Tanya would be devastated by her loss, once she regained her senses-but she would be alive, and Visha only hoped she would not grow bitter from her sacrifice. She would recover, Visha had faith. And while her heart would sting with bitter jealousy at the notion for but a moment, she also hoped that Tanya would move on and find someone to open up to again afterward.

It had taken several minutes, partially due to Tanya’s manna-induced inebriation and partially in her desire not to haphazardly injure the tiny blonde, but Visha finally felt the warmth become all-encompassing; her bare toes squeezing through the final stretch and allowing her to settle her legs into a more comfortable position within the sweltering confines. A thin pool of enzymes had made the barest of appearances, but had yet to take an active role assailing the imbibed woman.

Visha held no illusions about her own survival; the storm had lasted a day already, and would likely last several more. Any search parties would be looking for corpses, not survivors-they would starve or die of exposure long before then. While Visha’s survival was more likely, Tanya was more valuable-not just to the war effort, but to her, as a person. Living without her would be a life wasted, so she made the decision to spend it instead.

An intense reverberation shook her for a moment as her surroundings drew closer, and then she was left amongst the backdrop of Tanya’s steadying heartbeat filling her senses. She felt at peace with her actions, safe in the knowledge that Tanya would survive-even if she wouldn’t be able to see her afterward. Visha felt her eyes droop tiredly, she knew it wasn’t her time yet-that was still a ways off-but she couldn’t fight exhaustion any longer. As she began to drift off, she knew it was unlikely she would reawaken before the end. It was for the best. As much as she wished to speak to her love before the inevitable set it, doing so would only drive Tanya to save her-possibly mutilating herself in the process, a waste of both their efforts. No; for Tanya to live, Visha had to be gone before she wakes from her obliviousness.

And so, Visha let sleep take her-nodding off to the pleasant rumble surrounding her, and the steady rhythm of Tanya’s heartbeat.

Several minutes prior, Tanya stared at Visha through the glassy windows of her eyes-locked inside her own mind, unable to exert control over her own body. Cursing Being X for this humiliation, Tanya watched herself fumble about-mortified as she felt the surprising taste of Viktoriya’s fingers dance over her tongue. Visha was quick to remove them, of course, but the odd look that came over her partner’s face threw her for a loop. Even more so when she began to undress herself under the assault of the continuing blizzard.

Thoughts of confusion raced through her mind, leading her down paths that provided no logical answers; the only one that seemed to fit brought a strange heat to her cheeks-the amount of times they had been... intimate, in that way numbered few. Inexperienced as she was, Tanya had been putty in Visha’s palm-but now hardly seemed appropriate! It may serve to keep them warm admittedly, but that was only a short term solution! In this climate they’d expend far too many calories in the act, and the warmth would be fleeting at best. So when Visha leaned towards her ear and whispered goodbye nestled amongst sweet nothings, all she felt was bewilderment.

When she felt her body pulling forward out of their passionate kiss, Tanya felt horror. She understood, not just what was happening but why; it made sense, perfectly in line with Visha’s devoted nature and Tanya hated the the cold, logical part of her that lived in another world agreed with it. Helpless to stop her from sacrificing herself, and armed with the knowledge that if she did they would merely both freeze to death, it was all Tanya could do but whisper fervent denials within her own mind.

It didn’t help that it all felt so good. The ingestion, as well as the weight settling into her gut brought an immeasurable warmth to her core-directionless fingers grasping at the expanse of flesh that no longer felt the biting chill across it. Her dazed mind grew numb from the pleasure swelling within her, and by the time she regained control of her faculties she hardly realized it. The first eruption had been a low droning that punctuated the finality of Visha’s decent, this most recent was a warbling outcry that jostle the heavy mass decorating her lap.

With no agency, Tanya watched and felt the clarity of Viktoriya’s figure soften and melt away into a vague outline before disappearing entirely into the amorphous swell of her stomach. Her heart ached at the loss, but she understood and respected Visha’s desires-even if she despised the reality of it. Hugging the semi-fluid mass close to her face, she felt the frozen tears thaw from their place stuck to her cheeks. Her relatively slow metabolism from a lifetime of malnutrition would ensure Visha would last her weeks-more than long enough to await rescue. It truly had been the only option for the Brunette; even if she had wanted to, it was unlikely that Tanya’s meager form would provide anywhere near the amount of nourishment her own would-and she would never have allowed such a future to pass, regardless.

In her grief-stricken delirium, Tanya whispered to Visha, nestled beside her bloated gut across from a cobbled together heater. It is there she would be found, to the confusion of the entire Kamfgruppe nearly a week later. Buried under meters of snow, freezing but alive-with a massive swell of fat adorning her exposed midriff, stomach engorged with a thick fluid-still digesting after days of pseudo-hibernation. And Lieutenant Viktoriya Ivanovna Serebryakov nowhere to be found.





Merry Solstice, kind of! The story is the only thing I wrote today, the image was actually done up months back-but I hadn’t wanted to upload it yet. I think this is actually the first time I’ve written willing prey? All in all, pretty rough since I didn’t draft it first, but it’s got bit of HEAT & HELL’s ORCHESTRA put into it so the inspiration should be obvious. I may rework it a bit later, though.

Does this count as a blanket fic?

This image was done up by  Beesoba! Thank you for indulging me, I look forward to our next project~

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