Quoted By:
Fauna can't just do our oshi dirty like that and then NOT expect revenge fics. It's like, the one thing we're good at here (except Goslinging).
It's turning out larger than I expected, so expect part 2 after lunch.
> As the door opens, a streak of glowstone light burns her retina. How long has it been since she'd seen the sun? She used to put little marks on the cobblestone wall of her cell. Somewhere around fifty, she gave up. What's the point? She'd be there a long time.
> A familiar shape of a tall figure appears in the doorway. It's difficult to make out the details against that light, but at least it appears she didn't bring her swords today.
> "Oh, Fauna, Fauna, Fauna. My sweet guest."
> The door shuts with a heavy thud, and her heart sinks. She knows what comes next. They both do.
> "You do know that you can go out any time you please, Fauna? The door is not even locked. I would NEVER keep another warden against their will, after all. It's against the Compact."
> She is correct, technically. One way or the other, nobody escapes the Bunkeronii. Or rather, the series of barren, industrialized cobblestone labyrinths filled with deathtraps it turned into since the war started.
> But Kronii is true to her word - she does keep the cell door unlocked. It's yet another form of her sick power play.
> "A... deal is a deal, Kronii. I won't leave."
> She hates that she is so used to it that her body is already going through the motions of standing up and moving to the center of the room.
> "A woman of her word. I like that."
> Fauna makes sure she prostrates herself, face down, on the cell floor. The stone is cold, damp, and dirty. But that's the least of her concerns.
> "Good girl. You learned that quickly. You know know how we like everything to be around here."
> "... Yes, I do."
> "How? Say it."
> Fauna pauses for a second or two, while Kronii's boots echo on the stone, approaching her.
> "...Like clockwork."
> Somehow, even in the darkness, she can hear Kronii put on that fucking grin of hers.
> "What's that? That was a bit quiet."
> "No... no."
> "Say it properly then!"
> "L--Like clockwork!"
> "I'm not hearing any enthusiasm in your voice, Fauna."
> The boot presses on her head. Oh, not hard. Not painful. Kronii is magnanimous in her victories, after all. It's just there to remind Fauna of her position.
> "Like clockwork! Like clockwork, madam!"
> There is silence, for a while. Then, the boot moves.
> "That will do... for now. Hands, please".
> Fauna doesn't resist as Kronii takes her left wrist, and locks it into a shackle specifically built in the floor for this purpose to keep her arms stretched out.
> "I would apologize for this, but we did agree it was a necessary measure. The scratches from the first time..."
> She hums as she works, now taking Fauna's right hand as well. Fauna is now belly-down, her right cheek on the damp cobblestone, her legs stretched out, her arms spread and chained to the floor, not too tightly, but just enough to prevent any meaningful resistance... and her bottom is exposed. The most uncomfortable thing about the position, really, the fact her breasts are pressing on the hard floor. Kronii continues:
> "Oh, did you hope it left a scar? Sorry to disappoint, but my face is as beautiful as ever. After all, TIME heals all wounds."
> The other shackle snaps into place.
