#September 17th for those curious

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Have officially finished planning my birthday meal and what kind of cake I am gonna have, so here is your reminder my birthday, (you know a national horror fandom holiday jk jk jk-) is creeping up!

[cheritzteam]

[MM] You Who Make Me Dream of a Shared Future💙 Announcement for V’s Birthday and Chuseok Commemorative Event in September 2024

Hello, it’s Cheritz​.

Everyone seems to be struggling to return to daily life after a cool and enjoyable summer vacation 😅

This year's summer felt particularly tough, perhaps due to the prolonged humid weather. I'm sure we’re not the only ones who, despite the difficulties of the summer heat, look back on it fondly as time passes 🤭

Around this time, we start to feel the cool breezes in the morning and evening, realizing that summer is ending and fall is approaching.

As always, heralding the start of autumn with the cooler winds, September's protagonist returns 

It’s time for V’s birthday! 

If you're curious about what events are prepared for V's birthday, Please check the details in the announcement below ~ 😉

< ① V’s Birthday Event >

V says his feelings about birthdays are a bit different now compared to when he was younger. He feels like he's really becoming an adult, spending more time thinking about his future. He mostly thinks about the family he dreams of or his ideal life.

No matter what future V imagines, you know that when V dreams of his future , he's always together with you, Coordinator, right? 😆

There’s a repost event on X for  V’s birthday.

Among those who repost through a raffle we will be giving out 50 hourglasses​⌛♥ (15 people)

Also, there's a bonus event to celebrate V's birthday!

Use the hashtag #Happy_Bday_V to congratulate him, and don't miss the chance to win 50 hourglasses⌛♥ through a drawing.

Lastly, there will be a discount event on some V-related goods to celebrate his birthday.

For those who have been hesitating to buy, make sure to grab★ this opportunity!

Cheritz Market Discount Period : September 5th(Thurs) 2pm ~ September 12th(Thurs) 2pm 

< ② In-Game Login Event >

During the event period below, you can check out V’s Birthday Commemorative Title Image by logging into the game! Enjoy the game with the title image and celebrate his birthday. 🥳

(The full version of this illustration and bonus image will be available on the fourth Thursday of this month!)

Also, don't miss out on the Chuseok login rewards! 

Title Image Period : September 4th(Wed) ~ September 17th(Tues)

Chuseok Login Reward : September 15th(Sun) ~ September 18th(Wed)

Did you receive our September event news well?

We'd like to express our gratitude in advance to all managers who will participate in V’s Birthday Event and Chuseok Commemorative Event. 

We hope your upcoming September will be filled with joyful and happy moments, dear Coordinator!

Thank you!

Sincerely, Cheritz

[221bshrlocked]

Let All My Love Keep Silence

Pairing: Vampire Pero Tovar x Witch Fem!Reader

Words: 21,640

Warning: Angst to Fluff to Smut. Mutual Pining. Angst to Smut to Angst to Sort of Fluff. Forbidden Love!! Bath sharing-ish. Dirty/Sweet Talk. Minor Hair-Pulling. Oral (female and male receiving). Creampie. Fluid Exchange Kink. Mentions of Blood in a sexual way (go away if you don't like that). Penetrative, Unprotected Sex. Creampie. Reader and Tovar getting off on the idea of ruining each other's biology because of their coupling.

Summary: When two strangers meet in the mystical land of Egypt, they are transported back to a moment filled with nothing but hurt and pain. Neither wishes to accompany the other, but duty requires both of them to travel together, and on occassion, fight alongside each other. A string of curious events continues to befall the company, and a staggering revelation leads them to think they may have met long before that chance gathering in the qahwa weeks prior. And an even more shocking confession brings the once sworn enemies together...or perhaps, finally returns them to one another.

A/N: This is for the lovely @artemiseamoon who's also taking part in the @pedrostories Secret Santa Event and whom I have to thank for being so very patient with me. I hope you like this babes, I've included what I thought would be a good mixture of the prompts you gave me so I hope you enjoy reading this. I apologize profusely that this is a few days late, but I wanted it to be as close to perfection as possible!! Side note, this is set sometime in 15th century Egypt. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays :D

“All your fury is to hide a fragile heart.” —Ghassan Kanafani September 17th, 1422

There was a strange air about the tavern tonight, one that made it rather difficult to focus on the reason behind your visit to this specific village. No sooner than you had walked in did you notice the shadows flickering around a particularly secluded corner within the busy establishment. And although the drunken laughter and obnoxious swearing filled the inn, you could not help but dwell on the ominous silence that danced along the walls of said corner as you slowly sat down and studied the patrons within the room. It was almost instantaneous, the way your eyes met his through the vigorous crowd, and you knew immediately that the tempest storming in those dark eyes were but a mere reflection of the curiosity and caution swimming in your own. 

But it was not curiosity alone that made him stand from his seat and approach you. No, it was the unspoken understanding of the lives you led that forced him to make his way to you with a purposeful grace unlike any you have ever seen. You arched an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of your lips as he took a seat opposite of you. His fingers tapped a slow rhythm on the wooden table’s surface, a sign of the ancient wariness that has passed between your kind and his own for centuries. Silence stretched between your cold smirk and his furrowed, nearly angry eyebrows, thickening the tension and the weight of history you were sure would make things more complicated—on your end at least. 

Yet beneath the surface of unpleasant memories, you could recognize a flicker of something else—a shared, albeit grudging respect of the mutual abilities and prowess you both shared, however different they were. Your gaze was unwavering, 

You didn’t dare blink, afraid the momentary blindness would bring about your demise. So sure that he would want to rip your neck to pieces, your eyes widen in horror when he holds his hand out for you to take. You look between him and his limb, unsure of what game he was wanting to play with you. Not wanting to show him any weakness, you smile cautiously at him as you extend your own, the sudden touch of his skin making you flinch as unfamiliar memories flood your mind’s eye. You cannot let go of his hand, not because you do not want to, but because the grip he has on your palm tightens as similar, unfamiliar images crash into him. You both look at each other, unsure whether you are both seeing, and experiencing, the same painful evocations. 

It lasts for longer than you care to admit, and when his hold finally loosens, you let go and return your back to rest, unable to hold back from clutching at your chest when you feel an invisible bolt of lightning strike through you. You gaze up into his eyes then, and find his grimace deeper, except it is not one of anger but contempt. Whatever he has seen of you was far from favorable, and you knew he presumed similarly. 

“What brings you here?” His voice is low, the sneer on his expression reminding you of something from a long time ago, a past life perhaps. You shake your head, wanting to rid yourself of whatever was attempting to come to the forefront of your mind. There were matters more important. 

“Do not flatter yourself. I did not come for you, but for a posting.” You cross your arms, watching him as he looks to the side, perhaps wondering if there were more of you around. 

“I am alone.” You are not sure what pushes you to tell him such a dangerous fact, but you watch as his shoulders visibly relax at your admission. He returns his gaze to you, and if you didn’t know better, you would think his eyes could see right through you. 

“That makes two of us bruja.” He responds in kind, and you wish you weren’t so obvious in your own inquiries. 

“A Spaniard in Cairo? Are you here for business or pleasure?” The question is not to his liking, and you chuckle at the prospect of this man thinking that you weren’t knowledgeable enough to place his mother tongue, let alone his accent. 

“Business, though pleasure is not too far.” It’s menacing, the way his smile stretches so easily and reveals his sharp cuspids. You are aware he is purposeful in his warning, and if you were wiser, you would have turned away from him, perhaps even stood up and walked out of the qahwa. But you narrow your eyes at him, challenging him without thinking of the consequences. The serenity that befalls him is irritating and you nearly comment on his surly behavior when a man interrupts the two of you and pushes your ‘companion’ aside. 

“I leave you for a few minutes and you find yourself a lovely woman to terrorize. When will you ever learn Tovar?” The name makes you flinch. You swear you have heard it before, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the man in front of you. Except, he misunderstands your response for something else, and you know instantly why the smile drops instantly. You should not intimidate him more, but you choose to, wanting to relay a message of pure, unadulterated hatred to him. 

Reaching out, you shake Tovar’s friend’s hand, introducing yourself and letting him know that Tovar was far from threatening. 

“It is lovely to meet you, lass. My name is William Garin, and this ray of sunshine is my old friend, Pero Tovar.” As soon as Tovar’s full name is known to you, you sit back and giggle as anger radiates off of him. 

“It’s a pleasure William, and…Tovar.” You smirk at him, not bothering to react to Tovar as he stands aggressively and walks away from your table. 

“Maybe the coffee didn’t agree with him.” You comment in passing, shrugging your shoulders when William apologizes for his friend and asks to buy you another drink. 

“That is thoughtful of you, but I think I have had enough for the night. Perhaps you could buy one for your friend?” You ask in passing, your eyes never once leaving the entrance of the establishment. 

“I would but unlike me, the man refuses to drink. Come to think of it, I rarely see him consume anything other than that damned drink he always carries on him.” You scrunch your nose at the fact, wondering whether William knows the true nature of his friend. 

“Nevermind him. What is a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” He leans over, smiling devilishly at you when you mirror him and push into his space. 

“I’m flattered William, I really am. But there is more to me than meets the eye.” You swirl around the drink in your hand, tilting your head to the side when you notice Tovar entering the qahwa once more. He doesn’t join you though, and you suspect it is because you now have his name. 

“I can see that, love.” William’s smile drops and you watch as he points down to the several daggers he can see attached to the inside of your robes. You lean away from him and purse your lips, letting him know that you should have seen his plan coming. 

“What do you want with Tovar?” His voice should be menacing, but you choose not to laugh at him out of respect. Unlike his friend, the man was genuinely being protective, and you admire that about him. You have always admired that about humans. 

“Contrary to popular opinion, I am not here for him but for a proposition.” You don’t bother elaborating as you take out a piece of paper and slide it across the table. William reads it slowly, giving it back to you and looking behind him to see if you had any company. 

“As I told your friend, I am here alone. I work alone, usually.” You finish your drink and leave a few coins on the table, enough for William to notice that you are covering his payment as well. 

“You are aware this commission is for a group of mercenaries?” He asks, and you nod instantly, folding the paper and pushing it back into your pocket. 

“Yes, I am. I may prefer to work alone but circumstances led me here and I- I find myself wanting to take part in this…expedition.” You do not elaborate, not wanting to raise any flags for William as to what you are. Thankfully, he takes your word and refrains from inquiring further about the subject.

“Have the two of you met before?” The question catches you off guard, and you turn to face Tovar, wondering the same thing as you find his eyes already gazing upon you.

“I would remember if I have, but no. I- I have not met him before.” You blink away the faint memories from earlier haunting you once more, returning your attention to William and offering him a friendly smile. 

“Hmm, something tells me things did not get off on a good start for either of you.” William says as he glances at his friend, raising his drink in an attempt to persuade him to join the two of you, but to his disappointment, Tovar turns away and glues his focus on the wall. 

“I have known him for years, and I assure you, he is never so hostile to someone he has just made an acquaintance of.” There is a warning laced between those words, and you nod in affirmation, not wanting to have two men in the company against you. 

“I understand. I must confess, I am not often met with kindness wherever I go…so I fear there is some effect I am having on him. I assure you, however, it is not my intention to anger. I merely wish to…let him know he should steer clear of me as I will of him.” Again, you are unsure why you confess such a sentiment to William and it must not be what he expects to hear from you because he raises a curious eyebrow before laughing out loud. You’re thrown back by the reaction but you say nothing as William stands to his height and nods in appreciation. 

“In that case, lass…should he bother you, do not hesitate to come for my aid.” He silently thanks you for the drink as he finishes it quickly before placing it down on the table. You eye the goblet for a few seconds, hating that he placed it in front of you…and Tovar.

“That will not be needed, but thank you for the offer. I will keep it in mind.” You retract your hands from the table, placing them on your lap to avoid any misunderstandings with Tovar. 

“See you tomorrow at the port.” He calls after you as he leaves, patting Tovar on the back twice on his way to the stairs. Wonderful, they were staying in the inn as well. You rub your temple harshly, wondering why those visions plagued you for months on end, only to bring you to such a man.

A vampire of all creatures.

Could he not, at the very least, be a lycan?

Your racing thoughts are interrupted by none other than the man himself, and you ground yourself before you meet his gaze once more. He wastes no time before he grabs William’s drinking cup and pulls it out of reach. 

“You need not worry, I am not interested in him. Or you!” You blink tiredly, knowing that your meeting was due to a mission and not something else. 

“That is hard to believe, maga, when you explicitly asked for my name.” His expression is hard, and you swear you see the whites of his eyes turn a deep shade of gold for a moment, but you know he would never act irrationally in such a crowded place.

“If you recall, nightwalker, I did not ask for your name. It was given to me freely by your friend, whom I suspect, does not know of your true nature, or else he would have refrained from giving me both his name and yours.” You hiss at him, your behavior making him frown harshly and clench his jaw tightly.”

“I suspect you heard everything, and against my better judgment, I will put your mind to rest. You seem older than others of your kind I have met before, so you know it is not possible for me to lie to another…creature. I have no use of your names, nor will I use them to my benefit.” Your revelation comes as a shock to him, because as soon as the promise leaves your lips, his demeanor shifts, and he no longer radiates violence but a sense of understanding. 

“But make no mistake, if I so much as suspect anything from you, I will choose my safety…and whatever that entails with it. Do you understand me?” Too long a moment passes between you, but you wait with bated breath until he nods in agreement before you stand and step away from him. 

“As I told your friend, I do not wish to have anything to do with you. And I will happily remain out of your way to offer you similar courtesy.” Your voice is unwavering, and Tovar studies you closely, his eyes as fixed as your message. He stands opposite you and for a moment, you are distracted by his broad shoulders and firm presence. But you brush the thought aside and blink slowly when he nods in affirmation one last time. 

“Sleep well, bruja.” He bids you a good night and walks away, leaving you more confused and concerned than when you first entered the qahwa an hour ago. Looking around the voyagers in the room, you cannot help but think of leaving the country altogether. You are confident that should you stay, things would only grow more complicated, and you have no desire to live in anxiety until this mission is finished. But you know you should not ignore your visions, nor should you move past what you saw when you took Tovar’s hands. 

You could not place this need to know who he is to you. Nor did you wish to ignore the sense of familiarity that washed over you when you held his hand in your own. 

The feeling was unlike anything else you have ever experienced, and the desire to place him grew exponentially over night, keeping you awake until the sun shone in the sky. You pushed the windows open at dawn, allowing the prayer call to put your mind at ease as you prepared for the day. 

A part of you had accepted what the next few weeks, perhaps months, could reveal. You knew you should listen to your mind, allow it to care for your well being and drive you away from this task. But as you exited the inn and found Tovar waiting upon a camel and eyeing you as you approached the men he was surrounded with, you knew your heart had won this time. 

You would not leave. You would not run away. And you certainly would not allow Tovar to have you question your sanity. 

“Who brought the girl?” You walked to your horse, patting her neck as you fed her the carrots you bought the previous night. Ignoring the question, you continue to softly rub your companion, whispering words of encouragement as she ate every last bit of food you offered her. Expecting the man to move aside when no answer was offered to him, you glance quickly to the side when you hear him approach closer than you appreciated, and as he reached out to touch your hair, you dragged a dagger across his chest and pinned it just beneath his neck, holding his arm in between the two of you and staring at him until his eyes were filled with nothing but shock and fear. 

“If you value your neck, I suggest you keep the rest of your limbs to yourself.” The warning is breathed lowly, loud enough for him to hear, and the rest of the men to wonder about. It takes him a little over a minute to respond, and you push him away aggressively, making your lack of patience known to the others. You wait to see if anyone else is willing to test you, and when they all return to their conversations, you attend to your horse once more. 

As you mount her, you chance a look at Tovar and find him attempting to hide a smirk from you. Unsure of what he could possibly be smiling about, you pat your horse and ask her to move towards the dock, not bothering to wait for any of the company. 

Passing the busy markets of Cairo, you admire the crafts and tools being sold throughout, and you make a stop when you notice Tefnut eyeing the ripe strawberries ahead. You jump down and walk towards the older woman, collecting a fair amount of strawberries and putting it on the scale to see how much it costs. She holds out seven fingers and you nod in gratitude, giving her the coins she requested and then some. She pats her chest in return, handing you another few strawberries to which you refuse, silently letting her know that you do not need any more. 

Making your way back to your horse, you stop in your tracks when you see Tovar and William flanking your horse and conversing. Not wanting to create a scene, you approach Tefnut and take her reins, bringing her forward and away from the two men so she can eat in peace. 

“What do you think you are doing with my horse?”

“If you value your companion, lass, perhaps do not leave her by herself. We were behind you when we saw a man attempt to take her away.” William starts, holding his hands up to ensure you do not misunderstand his kindness for something else. You look between him and Tovar, and you cannot help the shock written on your features when you find him relishing the sunlight as it begins to warm the day. 

Tovar knows immediately why you are stupefied but he shakes his head, refusing to give in to whatever inquiries you now hold for him. 

“Vámonos,” he paces away on his camel, calling after William who continues to wait for a response from you. 

“Noted, thank you.” You say nothing further, knowing that explaining why you are not worried for your horse could open potential lines of questioning from both him and Tovar. As you watch them move closer to the port, you wonder how Tovar is able to bask in the warmth of the sun without instantly setting into fire. Pushing the rest of the strawberries into Tefnut’s mouth, you mount her and follow the two men, already meditating on the different spells that could offer such protection.  

You were sure it was a spell, but you were also aware that only a powerful witch could hold such abilities in her hands. Not only that, but he would have needed to either compel her or do something so honorable that she granted him this in return. The question was, did Tovar receive this gift through coercion or offering. 

When you finally reach the port and find the rest of the company surrounding a gentleman standing high on a ship, you get off Tefnut and walk towards the back, listening to who you presume is the headhunter of this mission. 

“Now, you may ask yourselves why there is such a large number of you, the answer of which lies in who and what you are meant to be protecting. For the coming weeks, you are tasked with protecting the merchant caravans traveling along the Nile. Our merchants will be carrying several goods, the most important of which are textiles and gold.” You listen carefully in an attempt to find answers to your questions. You are unsure whether you were brought to this land for the sole purpose of protecting said merchants, or something in association. 

“Before I go any further, you all must understand something very important. Should any one of you grow greedy and tired of your travels and decide to steal something for yourself, I assure you, I will ensure your death comes soon after by none other than the rest of the company, who will be paid double upon their return. Do not test me.” He refuses to smile throughout his speech, and you know then that he may have been double-crossed by mercenaries before. A familiar sensation crosses over you and you turn around in time to see Tovar refusing to look elsewhere. You maintain his gaze for a moment out of habit, and only when the headhunter continues his speech do you finally turn away. 

“Expect bandits of many allegiances along the route. And under no circumstances will you allow others in your company that have not been hired by me. You will each receive a quarter of your share now, and when you have reached Aswan, you will have the rest of your payment.” You notice several men raise their hands to inquire after their task, but you pay them no mind as you approach the merchants and introduce yourself. Two men nearly huff in humor when you tell them you are one of their protectors, but the third man quiets them instantly, letting them know what he has seen earlier in the morning. 

“Good day to you all,” you bid them a farewell before returning to your post, watching as each man receives his share from the gentleman on the ship and makes his way back to the merchants. When it is your turn, you say nothing but your name, to which the older man nods and continues on. As you move back to your horse, you walk past Tovar, and for a split second, his scent seeps through your senses and halts you in your steps. 

Myrrh and Oud. 

The combination is distinct, one that you are sure you have been in the presence of before. And as you turn around to look at the man you informed the night prior that you wish to steer clear of him, you get the sense that your desires would soon shift and lead you into temptations. Or perhaps, trouble. 

Shaking the intrusive thought away, you lead your horse to the back of the company and wait for them to move. If Tovar notices the way you meditate on him throughout the morning and well into the afternoon, he says nothing of it and does as he promises.

You speak to no one as you move up the Nile towards Atfeh, and by nightfall, you find that you are nearly reaching the end of Cairo. As the winds shift and the air grows colder, you hear the leader of the merchants speak to several of the men in the company. Knowing that you are probably resting for the night, you hop off of your horse and lead her towards the shallow end of the Nile, telling her to remain there for the night until you come in the morning. 

“Enkotk hahten,” you pat her a few times and back away from the waters, aiming to find a nice tree to make your cot beneath so you can avoid remaining with the men. Not looking behind you, you bump into someone’s chest and slowly turn to find Tovar looking past you and towards your companion. 

“Am I mistaken in assuming that you just put a spell on your horse, hechicera?” You are aware his question is not one of nosiness but curiosity, yet you grow irritated at his questioning gaze, mostly due to the fact that he was forcing his scent upon you once more, a scent which you grew to enjoy with each minute that passed in his presence. 

“Am I mistaken in assuming that you can walk during the day because of one of my people’s spells?” You retort and notice the manner in which his body grows rigid instantly. He had not expected your question, that you are certain of, but what throws you off is the somber, almost lonely spirit that comes over him at your inquiry. 

“I- I do not know.” You furrow an eyebrow at him, unsure of why your heart clenches tightly at such a sad expression from him. Not knowing what you should do, you step away from him to clear your mind, not wanting his musk to distract you any further. 

“I make sure she remains where she is, and anyone who means her harm is gifted with an unkindly kick to the face.” The comment seems to fulfill its purpose and you watch as Tovar nods once before moving his camel towards the water as well. You are not sure what about him that seems so fascinating to you, but you move away from the company regardless, not wanting to partake with any of the men as the night grows colder and lonelier.

Lying below a tree at the edge of the company, you glance around to ensure that no one is nearby before reaching out both of your hands and envisioning the tree above you.

“Come, O Isis, mighty in magic, protector of your son Horus! Deliver me from all evil, harmful things, from the serpent, from poison, and from any harm that comes my way. Let him who knows no evil against me enter.” Whispering the words into the night air, you open your eyes and watch as a soft haze only you can see falls around you. Glancing out into the Nile, you see Tovar push his camel near your horse and pat Tefnut on her back. Unlike the others, she responds kindly to him, nosing at his armor and forcing a graceful smile onto his features. The moment is cut short when he suddenly turns to look at you, and before you can turn away, he steps away from your horse and bows his head, silently apologizing for presuming familiarity with your companion. 

Pulling the blanket over yourself, you shut your eyes and surrender to a deep sleep. It has been long since you allowed yourself any respite, but something about the previous night’s meeting, and today’s long journey, pushes you briskly into an intense slumber.

You dream of ancient dunes and majestic monuments. You dream of the running waters of the Nile River and a sunrise unlike any you have ever seen. You dream of long-forgotten touches and soft kisses.

But perhaps most importantly, you dream of a pair of brown eyes, following you everywhere you go, gazing through your soul longingly, begging you to return the love etched deep within them. 

Hoping. Hoping for salvation. 

“All roads lead to you, even those I took to forget you.” —Mahmoud Darwish October 30th, 1422

“¡Cuidado!” You stoop to the ground in time to avoid a dagger to the neck, and without hesitation, you pull the weapon through the air, aiming it straight into your assailant’s chest and watching as he falls to the ground with shock and fear written on his expression. There is no time to dwell on the reason behind your enemy’s attack, and you swiftly end one man after another, noting the unique ways they move and speak in hopes of understanding more about them. 

Chaos continues to unfold around you, and you do your best to remain beside the merchants and their goods, refusing to allow anyone near them. There is a strange air about the field, one that you cannot help but recognize instantly. You would know that presence anywhere in the world, and as you take down the men approaching those you are meant to protect, you miss one strutting from behind you, and when you finally feel his spirit lingering just against your back, you are met with a pair of strong hands, ones that push you aside and receive a silver dagger in your stead. 

A painful howl rips through your chest, and you watch in horror as Tovar reaches behind him and drags the weapon from his back, not caring for how beastly he must look as he penetrates the knife three times into his enemy’s jugular. He turns around and studies you, and the shock of his actions must be apparent because he nods once and moves on to the next unfriendly visitor. 

You are unsure of how to think of what he has willingly done for you, but you waste no time and stand to your height, continuing to battle alongside him in hopes of returning the favor should it be needed. There is no way of knowing how long the company spends fighting off the bandits, but by the time you are done, the sun slowly begins to set past the horizon and you are left with a multitude of bodies to either bury or scavenge from. 

When you are positive you are no longer needed, you walk towards the nearby village, wanting to find the source of familiarity brushing over your mind ever since you entered Asyut. Moving through the quiet streets, you call out to the spirit of the witch, hoping she has enough strength to respond in kind. Not a few moments later, you watch as a soft, green thread loops around you and slowly pulls you forward. You follow without delay, watching as the thread grows into a deeper shade the closer you approach the hiding place. As soon as you stand in front of the broken down building, you push through doors and run into the property, not caring for the possibility of more bandits.

Making a sharp turn to the left, you come to a halt as you look upon a face you have not seen in decades. 

“Petra,” you call out for her, running to her side as she breaks down into tears and reaches for your arms. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you wrap yourself around her, and you briefly feel a sense of trepidation take over you, but you give the thought no time to linger, wanting to nurse your friend’s wounds as soon as possible. 

“What are you doing here?” You pull away and hold her cheeks in your hands, looking in between her bloodied and bruised eyes as she continues to sob in your arms. 

“I- I do not know. They never told me what they wanted with me, only that I was useful to them in some way. But now that I know you are here, I suspect they are after you. Please, sister, tell me you are safe. Tell me they are not after you.” She speaks haphazardly and you quiet her down to the best of your abilities, not wanting to give her any reason for more panic now that you saved her. 

“I am well, dearest. Do not worry,” you smile at her, pulling her to her feet and breaking the chains around her wrists to lead her away. Only when you reach the door to the abandoned home do you look up and find Tovar waiting for the two of you. You do not get a chance to explain yourself asTovar sniffs the air deeply and releases the unholiest of growls, aimed not at you but your coven sister. 

“What- what is he doing here?” She shakes in fear and hides behind you, and you throw a protection spell around her for precaution, not wanting to lead attention to the three of you. 

“He will not hurt you, I promise.” The words do not leave your mouth for more than a few seconds before Tovar menacingly walks towards you, his eyes turning a deep shade of fiery gold that reminds you of what he is. 

“Do not test my patience, Tovar.” The command is barely louder than a whisper, yet he refuses to back down, offering you a similar order in kind. “Do not mock my kindness, maga.” The display of his canines would shake you to your core had you not spent the past few weeks traveling with him and knowing him just a little bit more.

Neither of you seem to back down, and only when you feel your friend descend to the floor and clutch at your feet do you finally push Tovar away and warn him with a snap of your fingers. A fire engulfs the inside of the building instantly, and you watch as his demeanor shifts to one of caution. He looks around him briefly and returns his focus on you, not bothering to say another word as he backs away and holds his hands up in defeat. 

“Remember the headhunter’s words, she cannot join us.” He warns as he walks out of the smoky room and out to the street. 

“I will vouch for her.” You retort immediately, letting him know that your decision is not up for debate. He shakes his head at you and glances at Petra one last time, breathing in her scent one last time as he returns to the company. 

“Why are you traveling with that- that thing?” Petra inquires when Tovar is out of reach, and you turn to her, patting her on the neck one last time as you lead her to your group. 

“It was not my decision. I- I joined a company tasked with protecting a group of merchants and he happened to be one of them.” You weave your hands around her skin, silently breathing healing and protection spells that would alleviate her pain and wounds quicker. 

“Do you know him?” There is a strangeness about the question she asks and for whatever reason your mind conjures, you shake your head in an instant, a part of you letting you know that it would be unwise to tell her of the familiarity you feel with him. 

When you reach the company, you speak with the merchants, letting them know that you found your sister by chance, and that she would only accompany you for a few days before she feels better. As they inspect her, you barely manage to hide the smile from your face at how helpless she makes herself appear to them, and only when they nod their approval do you take her away and ask her to ride on Tefnut. 

The rest of the day is met with more silence, the company beginning to wonder why the bandits have increased suddenly. This was the fourth attack in the span of three weeks, and although your numbers did not noticeably decrease, you also cannot help but think of how abnormal things have become the closer you grow to your destination. 

You speak with your old friend, asking her about what she has accomplished in the past few decades, and responding in kind when she wonders where you have been and why the coven has not seen you for nearly a century. You do not know how to answer her, knowing that you could not lie to her if you tried. You tell her you had people to help across the world, sites you wished to visit at least once in case the wars of the New World reached your place. 

When night falls, you choose to bring her to an inn, telling her to remain within her room for her own safety. And if she wants to ask where you will go, she does not get to it as Tovar’s presence suddenly becomes known within the confines of the small tavern. 

“I assure you, he will not harm you in any way.” You shut the door behind you, locking it and casting one last spell out of fear of other, non-creature visitors. Heading down the stairs, you find Tovar seated by himself at one corner of the cafe, the scene reminding you of that fateful night a few weeks prior. You approach him slowly, not wanting to trigger his anger any further. 

As you sit down opposite him, you find the color of his face graying, and nearly reach out to touch him but remember how little you know each other. He sneaks a glance at you, but says nothing, the somber expression he offers you forcing your heart to beat faster out of sympathy. 

“Are you unwell?”

“It is none of your concern.” His answer is laced with venom, and you cannot blame him for the hostility, knowing that had he brought more of his kind near you, you would be as uncomfortable, if not more. 

“I promise she will not grow near you.” You are not sure what pushes you to offer him such a vow, but the manner in which he recoils into himself and winces at your words lets you know he is not appreciative of the gesture. 

“Do not make promises you cannot keep, bruja. You and I know of the past our kinds have suffered through.” His voice is tired, and you attempt to ask him once more if he is unwell. 

“Tovar, what you have done for me today-”

“Save it, I do not care for your gratitude, nor do I have any use for it.” He pushes you aside as he walks out of the inn, and you are left speechless, afraid of why your chest tightens at the prospect of him getting hurt for your sake. You have questioned the action all day long, trying your damnedest to find a reason behind the selfless act he performed without so much as a blink of an eye. Nothing has changed throughout the past few weeks, apart of course from the occasional hello and silent sharing of space. 

Looking outside, you find the sun setting across the village, and you choose to spend the night walking about the town, wanting to rid your mind of the thousands of questions roaming about Tovar and Petra’s presence. 

Gods, why was she here of all places? There was never a reason for someone like her to go so far from her home, let alone travel outside of the coven. There was an oddity to you running into her in this land, more so at being captured by men dressed in attire you have not seen before.

Venturing deeper into town, you surrender to the relief that washes over you the farther you move away from the inn. A part of you feels guilty for not spending more time with your coven sister, but you decide to listen to your heart once more, already ruminating on why reluctance flooded at you upon your first sight of her. 

“Goddess divine, please tell me. I am your servant, and I long to know.” The prayer is whispered into the night air, and you decide to ignore the matter and look for more healing herbs, knowing that you should enforce your aid on Tovar the next time you see him. That dagger would be nothing had he fed, but you have not seen him drink an ounce of blood throughout the past few weeks and you would hate for any sickness to befall him because of your lack of focus. 

So engrossed in the concoctions of herbs and potions you are collecting, you completely miss the thread of green calling for you, and only when it begins turning into a soft shade of red do you finally recognize it. You drop the powders in your hand and race to the inn, regretting ever leaving Petra by herself. Deep down, you knew there would be an issue between her and Tovar, but you had hoped that he understood you were not to be trifled with. 

By the time you reach the inn and run up the stairs, you find the door to her room unlocked and broken off of its hinges. You gasp when you find Tovar bloodied and heaving, his hands clasping onto your sister’s neck as his fingers dig deeper into the skin. 

“Tovar,” you try to warn, but the look he offers you is nothing less than murderous. 

“Tell her…tell her what you told me.” He is breathing heavily, and you note the way he refuses to loosen his hold on her. 

“Unholy animal-” She hisses at him, only to be met with a snarl and a threat of a bite to her neck. You are not sure what he is referring to, but seeing her eyes widen in shock and horror lets you know that it must be important enough for Tovar to test your patience so openly. 

“Tell her, what you told me.” He orders once more, his eyes never leaving your own as you snap your fingers and create a door to the room, one that remains shut tightly to avoid any visitors. 

“Tovar, unhand her.” 

“I cannot do that, bruja.” He shakes his head, his retort not leaving you much of a choice. 

“Petra, please. Give him whatever he wants.” You plead with your friend, wishing she is a bit wiser than others of your kind. 

“If I tell h-her, she…she will not believe. I am her sister, and you are…nothing. You are nothing to her. She will not believe-” You step forward when you hear an agonizing screech escape her throat and you watch as Tovar delivers a harsh bite to her shoulder. He unclenches his jaws from her a moment later, licking his lips once and shutting his eyes to better envision what her blood offers her. There is a moment of silence as Tovar sees in her memories what he has been seeking, and only when he is satisfied does he push her to the ground and grip her hair tightly. 

“If you do not tell her, I will show her. Which do you prefer, capulla?” At the mention of her memories, her eyes seek you out and tear up, leading you to tilt your head to the side and approach the two of them slowly. 

“You must understand, we- we couldn’t…” She attempts to make excuses but Tovar was never known for his patience, and he twists her neck once, signaling another bite to her shoulder should she refuse to obey him. 

“Tell. Her.” His voice is menacing, and you nod at her with a smile, wanting her to understand that it will all be well. 

“In my pocket…reach for the paper in my pocket.” She signals for her right pocket and waits with bated breath as Tovar snatches it and throws it at you. You inhale deeply, unsure of what either of them is referring to. 

Slowly unfolding the flimsy piece of paper, you read the top line of the letter and flinch at the familiarity of the date. 

“What is this?” You ask Tovar, unsure of what he is attempting to show you. His body grows tired by the minute, but he pays it no mind as he maintains his hold on your sister and responds to your question. 

“This is the reason why you cannot recall any memories since the last time you were here,” he finds more knowledge of his statement in your eyes than he thought he would, and he takes a deep breath before continuing with his revelation,  “and why I cannot remember anything before 1249.” Once again, the date is not unknown to you, and your eyes widen in realization as you come to understand what he is referring to.

“That was-”

“Yes, the same year you were here.” He cuts you off, pointing at Petra to let you know of her involvement. When you do not make a move to read the letter, he nods towards the piece of parchment and asks you to read it one more time. 

“Read it. Out loud, please.”

“December 24th, 1249. An equilibrium, at last, has been attained.” The sentence is bothersome, and you turn to look at Petra, finding more fear in her eyes now that you had hold of the letter than before, when it was only her and Tovar. 

“Por favor, continúa.” 

“I pen these words with a trembling hand, for the events I am about to recount are of such grievous nature that they shake the very foundation of our order. The traitors have been uncovered, and what we beheld defies comprehension. Upon first encountering them, our hearts were struck with disbelief, for it was assumed—nay, taken as truth—that our coven’s esteemed leader bore envy for her gifts. How deeply mistaken we were! Alas, the fault lay with us all.” You bite your lower lip in anticipation of what’s to come, gazing at Tovar to find any inclination of what the contents of this letter mean to you, either of you. He is nearly trembling but he remains steadfast in his stance, not once letting go of the witch in his hands as you continue to read the words so close to you, yet so far. 

“Until the night of her final sighting, we labored under the notion that she had been cruelly abducted. But, oh, how far this presumption was from the truth! When at last we found her, it was in the arms of the devil himself. Not as his prisoner, nor his thrall, but as his equal, his beloved.” You look up to Tovar once more and find him refusing to meet your eyes, as if seeing you would break him for eternity. “She had not been coerced, nor, as his own kind did divulge to us, had he been ensnared by her enchantments. Together they stood, bound by their own volition, in a union both repugnant and unholy. How vile such a betrayal is to witness!” At the mention of the relationship, a flash of an unknown, distant memory crashes through your mind, and you are met with visions of your arms wrapped around the golden skin of a man, one who resembles the vampire standing not a few steps away from you. 

No, it cannot be.

“Let it be known that on that cursed night, witches and vampires, long foes, stood as one to halt an abomination. It was a spectacle both harrowing and grotesque—to see the depths of her devotion to him, and his to her.” You are not aware of the tears streaming down your cheeks until you shakily gaze at Tovar and find similar sadness rolling down his face and onto his armor. The words ripping through your chest are of similar torment to him, but he does not budge to grow closer to you, instead furthering his painful grip on Petra out of heartbreak and anger. 

“More abhorrent still were his pleas, his promises of eternal torment should harm befall her. In the end, it was their own affections that wrought their downfall. Unable to endure the sight of her bloodied form, he cast aside all pretenses of strength and supplicated himself for her sake—not his own, but hers alone.” You cannot find it in yourself to read it further, the retelling of those events twisting a knife deep within your heart that you swear you may die should you continue. 

“Read on, querida.” 

“In response to his desperate entreaties, we offered him a choice, though it pained us greatly to do so. It was then he understood why their bond could never endure. A single glance sufficed to convey our intent, followed by but a whisper: she was to forget him, utterly and irrevocably, until the very earth itself crumbled into dust. And thus, he consented, knowing it was their only reprieve. He resolved to undertake the task himself, loathing the mere notion that another might exert such power over her. He could not, would not, permit any other soul to carry out so dreadful an act. It was a torment of unimaginable cruelty, and he alone would bear its weight.” You can feel Tovar’s spirit burst into little fires, and you know then why his hurt runs deeper than your own, why you longed to be near him all those weeks ago but chose to stay clear of him out of a hidden inclination, as if growing closer to him made you burn. 

“When his turn came, the coven encircled him, our enchantments weaving an intricate web about his mind, until her name was lost to him entirely. The very notion of her existence was swept away, as fleeting and insubstantial as the sands of the Egyptian dunes beneath the relentless desert wind. Perhaps he welcomed it, for the burden of love was too great even for one such as he. Yet, I confess, I do not believe the spell was entirely imposed upon him. A creature of his power could never have been subdued against his will. For this reason alone we sent her to him, to bring about his end. How little did we anticipate the depth of their bond, for it became evident they would be one another’s undoing.” There is no doubt in your mind on who the letter is referring to, as each word delivers a long lost memory you have begged your soul to recall countless of times. You can envision him so clearly in your mind—his laughter as you drew circles on his chest, his eyes gazing at you longingly as you kissed your love across his skin, his hands as they broke you apart and bound you together with affection and loyalty, and above all, his spirit as it promised to never leave yours, not even if the gods themselves ordered you apart. 

He was yours. And you were his.

“I recount these dreadful events as a record of the night in Luxor, that it may stand as a warning to all who come after. We ensured that no offspring could result from their cursed union, for such a progeny would herald the ruin of all creation. Yet, I implore you, vigilance must remain eternal. They were not easily subdued, and should fate ever conspire to reunite them, it will herald the death of us all.” Tovar kneels to the ground, his mouth whispering promises of evil into your sister’s ears as you finish the letter and finally read the betrayal of the writer. 

“Yours in eternal duty, Petra A.” 

Silence fills the room as you allow the history within the letter to settle in your mind. You fold the letter and place it in your pocket, not caring for anything but the woman kneeling in front of you. 

“You betrayed me. You- my own people, betrayed me? How could you do it?” You ask her as you crawl towards her on the floor, not once asking Tovar to ease his grasp on her. 

“You have to know why. Your…union is- it is unforgivable.” Her hatred disgusts you, and you frown at how easily she attempts to explain her actions. 

“You speak of our union so simply, as if you yourself did not join my brothers and ask them to aid your conquest.” Tovar growls his own concerns to her, not caring for how violent he is becoming as his nails bleed her skin further. Her sobs are silent and she shuts her eyes when you stand and move away from her. 

“I need you to know Petra that- that my lack of forgiveness is not due to your betrayal, but because you enforced your pathetic values over my happiness, over his peace. I will find you in every lifetime, and I will rip out your soul with my bare hands…and send you to the goddess without powers, and without explanation.” Before you can respond to you, you reach out your hand and grab hold of her mind, weaving intricate designs around her body until you find what you are searching for and tugging it from her physical presence.

Tovar watches as a yellow cloud forms around the room, and with a snap of your fingers, a mixture of fire and water storms around the yellow shadow, encircling it until it turns into ash and drops to the ground. You twirl your finger around the dust, collecting it into a small pouch and shutting it tightly. 

If he is in awe of what you had just done, he says nothing and stands to his height, kicking the lifeless body at his feet to ensure she is no longer alive 

“What will you do with her?” You ask as you watch Tovar drag her body from your room and throw her into his own that is across from you

“Scatter her across the Nile.” He shuts the door to his quarters and returns, settling down on the bed beside you quietly. 

“My own people betrayed me.” The admission hurts more than you care to admit, and you turn to look at Tovar, only to find him wiping the streaks of tears away from his cheeks. 

“Only because mine told them.” He responds instantly, and you hate how little he seems to be affected by his own revelation.

“What happened?” You are not sure what brings you to ask him such a question, but a part of you wishes to know whether he knew beforehand or if her presence alerted him to so sinister a plot. 

“I sought you out after our conversation, to ask if you can aid me with…it does not matter. When I could not find you, I came to rest, and found the door unlocked, your friend spewing words that seemed too familiar for me to ignore.” You make a mental note of asking him later what he required from you, and you watch closely as his lips quiver with what happened while you were in the village. 

“She did not appear too taken by my presence, but when I passed into your room, her fear stenched the room instantly, and I knew then that- that what I felt initially was not intuition but truth.” He looks to you then, and you find the brown of his eyes so expressive, a reminder of how he looked at you before…all those years ago. 

“She must have seen realization dawn on me and felt it unnecessary to continue her lies. She had come with those bandits willingly, bandits which I should let you know, are of my own kind. They feared our paths had crossed in this land and wanted to ensure we did not remember what had happened before. Before I can ask her what she was referring to, she did…this.” He points at the lashes across his face, the deep cuts covering his arms and chest, wounds you hurt to think of. Without much thought, you stand and approach your bag, collecting the herbs you managed to purchase before the events of the night unfolded. 

“What are you doing?” He stands instantly, only to sit back down when you turn around and silently ask him to rest. Tovar remains quiet as you bring your bag to him and remove as many of the healing herbs as you can. 

“Can you please remove your armor and tunic?” You ask once, refusing to look into his eyes as he begins the slow, agonizing process of taking his clothes off. Neither of you say anything as you wait for him to throw his belongings to the floor, and you let him know that you will fix them as soon as you are finished administering the medication to his skin. 

“This may hurt a bit. I- forgive me.” 

“It is nothing, hermosa.” You do not dare ask him why his names for you changed, but you wait patiently as he continues to tell you what Petra informed him of. 

“She knew my wrath would fuel me, and by the time I had my hand wrapped around her throat, she spilled her secrets easily, telling me of everything your kind and mine had done to us 173 years ago. She- she spoke of their success as if it was destined by God himself, as if our lives meant nothing. I knew I would rip her throat to pieces if she did not call you, so I led her to believe that I will release her when you come.” He hisses in pain when you rub a brown salve across his chest and arms, turning the other way to avoid showing you his fangs. 

“And then I came.” You distract him, letting him know that you understand he does not mean to snarl at you. 

“And then you came.” His body shakes the lower you apply the herbs, and when he is sure you are finished, he stands and walks away from you. 

A loud gasp spills into the room when you see his back and the wound he received because of you. 

“T-tovar.” You whimper his name, and it takes every ounce of control to not throw your arms around him and apologize for your lack of sight. 

“I am not worth your tears, sabia.” He turns around and smiles sadly at you, reaching for your cheeks and wiping the tears away. You step closer to him, and only when Tovar scents your body does he come to his senses, quickly backing away from you and reaching for his tunic.

“Wait- Tovar, please wait. I- I can heal this.” You lead him to the bedside once more, and kneel on it as you ask him to face away from you. 

“Do not worry yourself.”

“You and I both know that this silver will only spread, and unless you feed now, you will not be able to heal quickly. Please, let me heal you.” Your voice breaks at the end, and Tovar can do nothing when you plead with him. He nods silently and shuts his eyes as he feels your hands skim across the skin of his back. Your touch is so familiar yet so distant, and he suspects that similar emotions tunnel through you, but he pays them no mind, not wanting to abuse your kindness and have you think he wants more from you now that-

Now that you both knew the truth. 

“O Isis, great healer, mother of Horus, deliver your humble servant, Pero Tovar, from all evil. May the breath of life fill his lungs, and may your light heal his wounds. By the power of Geb and Nut, the father of the earth and the mother of the sky, may your body be restored. Let the sacred words cleanse your mind and body, and the breath of life renew your soul and spirit.” Tovar can feel you touch his skin in strange patterns, and he nearly asks why you are choosing the old gods of this land when he feels a kindle of fire radiate across his back. He haunches over in pain, but says nothing as you continue to touch his back, your skin softer and hotter than anything he has ever felt in his life. 

He is unsure how long he remains in your bed, and only when he feels you let out a long sigh does he turn around and find you slowly falling over. 

“Cariño, you are hurt!” You smile at the worry in his voice, chuckling at how different everything seems to be now that you both put a name to the mixed feelings you experienced all those weeks ago upon your reuniting. 

“It…I am well, P-pero.” The whisper of his name could send him flying if he was capable of such a feat, and he swallows thickly as he lays you down and covers you with the bedsheets. 

“Rest, mi luna. And I will come to wake you tomorrow.” He smiles down at you, the expression letting you feel a safety you have not known in so long. You nod absentmindedly, letting go of his hands and falling into a deep sleep as Tovar collects his belongings and leaves your room. He locks the door behind you and makes quick work of his clothes, his body rejuvenated with more than your words and herbs. 

Entering into his room, he is met with the lifeless body of Petra, and he cannot help but sneer at everything she has done to him and you. Without wasting another moment, he carries her body and shuts his eyes, racing down the stairs and out to the Nile bank in a matter of seconds. He glances around to ensure no one can see him, and when he is positive he is alone, he quickly shreds the witch's body to pieces, scattering them across the river as he promised you until nothing but her blood remains on the soiled ground. 

Looking out into the dark horizon, he allows himself a moment of respite and clarity, wanting to bask in the knowledge of what he has felt ever since he laid eyes on you in the qahwa was nothing but his heart’s memories begging him to remember you. 

He had known then it was no coincidence, the way your scent was so familiar to his senses, and he was aware that this same recognition was what drove him to seek you out after the battle and know why your sister’s blood was so fundamental to his memories.   

Tovar did not know what would become of either of you, but after your little tricks minutes ago, and the way you wept as you read that letter, he dared to hope. 

Hope for a chance to prove his loyalty to you. 

Hope for the possibility of finding love in your eyes once more, the same deep affection he has felt for you all those years ago, and the one that drove him to remain near you ever since your paths crossed. 

“The voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses.” —E. E. CummingsDecember 3, 1422

He was different, much less wary than before, and more interested in keeping your company throughout the journey. You could not refuse his kindness, nor his friendship. So much has passed between the two of you in the past few weeks. From fighting bandits alongside each other, to sitting quietly around the fire at night, your shared experiences grew with each passing day, and before you could place a word on it, your fondness for him evolved into something deeper, something you reminisced about and wondered if it was new or based on past feelings. 

The memories returned, one by one, and as you trotted alongside him throughout the day, you stole glances of him, often finding his brown eyes aimed at you before you attended yours on him. He would smile and turn aside, embarrassed you had caught him openly dreaming of you. 

And with those memories came a sense of possessiveness. You could not keep silent when he was approached by the bedouin women you met along the way, and he certainly could not keep his mouth shut when other men in your company sought you out late at night. There was an unspoken rule between the two of you, an understanding that you were not available to others, and you desired to speak of its finality, but it appeared that he wanted to address said rule long after the mission was finished. He preferred to keep you at arm’s length, afraid to speak of the matters that befell you on All Hallows’ Eve. You told him later of your reluctant thoughts on whom you thought was a close friend, surprised to find him answering you about your own kind’s heightened powers during this time of year. He recalled things you were sure only a witch would know, and smiled as he realized how he knew such matters. 

The more time you spent together, the more you understood of your past life, or, the life you held before they made you forget each other. You learned about his past, and in turn, realized things within your own life. Tovar too became more aware of his behavior the more you spoke of what you envisioned each night. Of course, you would never tell him of the more intimate moments your mind’s eye recollected, but you got the sense that he knew. The mischievous smile that graced his features and the shy demeanor that overtook him each time you recollected a day from your past lead you to believe that he saw similar dreams, or perhaps, imagined said sentiments when he rested his body late at night. 

Yet, with those shared experiences, you had to continue pretending that you were not more. As much as he hated to admit it, Tovar was a shy soul, and you were not one to speak of such matters with someone unwilling to actively take part in such a conversation. So, you let him lead, praying each night that he would begin to notice the way you look at him, the longing filling your hands whenever he is near, the wildness of your heartbeat as it whispered his name over and over again. 

But he never crossed that line, and you pushed his reluctance aside as you took your belongings and made your way to one of the hamams. You had invited him earlier, letting him know of the privacy you can afford with your earnings. Then he brushed off your offer, mumbling something or other about not trusting the open space about the establishment. But you could see through the excuse; something was bothersome to him, and you hoped you had not done anything to upset him. He may have been a nightwalker, but he held a sensitive soul, one you remembered vividly from before. When neither of you moved following your invitation, you looked upon him, silently asking if he was bothered by something you may have done. He shook his head then, as if to tell you he can read your thoughts and does not wish to dwell on the matter. 

“The waters in these baths come from the oasis nearby, they have healing abilities.” You attempt to tempt him, but he does not budge, refusing you once more as he walks away and disappointedly responds to you. 

“Déjalo.”

You were not sure if it was possible to be more plain; sure, if he wishes to discuss your situation after the commission, you could take him up on the offer then. But he does not bother to explain himself to you, the hot and cold behavior throwing you off and raising anxious questions in your mind. You pray to the gods you had not accidentally pushed him away. It would break you. 

A part of you wanted nothing more than to blame him, but you could not. His kind was never confrontational with matters of the heart, and you guessed it took you a long time before to become so intimate with him.  

Reaching the bath you rented for the night, you smile at the woman sitting outside and let her know that another, more brooding gentleman may or may not join you. You ignore the smirk on her expression, silently entering the vapor-filled room and shutting the door behind you. 

It is more exquisite than you initially thought, and you set your towels aside, stripping down to nothing and throwing the dress atop your towels before stepping into the hot water. It does wonders to your body, the immense and quick relief allowing you to momentarily forget why you had originally wanted to spend some time here. The quietness of the room, and the marvelous architecture engulfing your tired soul, allow you to doze off. You whisper soothing spells across the waters, wanting to feel more relaxed in preparation for the journey tomorrow. 

As you float around the small space, you feel a familiar presence grow closer to you, and not moments after your eyes flutter open do you hear the door to the hamam open wide, signaling the arrival of none other than Tovar. He reluctantly enters the cloudy area, adjusting his sight to the space until his attention falls directly on you. 

Silence fills the room as you both acknowledge the other’s presence, and before you can ask him what has changed his mind, Tovar places his belongings beside your own and asks you to turn around. You give him a moment of privacy and face the small window at the end of the little opening within the wall, watching the stars twinkle outside in an attempt to focus on anything other than the nude man touching the same waters you are resting in.

“Are you decent?” You cannot help but smile at the question, and when a gruff consent vibrates across the walls, you turn around and finally meet Tovar’s eyes. Although you have healed him weeks prior, the sight of his golden skin littered with old wounds and scars sets you on fire, and you have to force your gaze away from his chest to avoid embarrassing yourself. 

“I am glad you came,” your attempt at making the moment less awkward fails, as Tovar does not bother to respond to you but steps around the water silently and lets the heat heal his weary soul. 

You are unsure how much time passes, but you let Tovar lead the space, afraid his anxiety would force him out of the waters. You can tell he is watching you closely, and you do not bother to behave any differently than if you were alone, knowing that he much prefers the quiet enjoyment of the intimate moment over anything more involving. He allows himself to relax soon after, and you throw him a soft smile as you pass the palms of your hands across the waters and heat it just a little bit more. His skin grows a little red, and you worry it may not be to his liking. 

“Is it uncomfortable?” You inquire, hoping he would not shy from telling you his true feelings. 

“Está bien,” he breathes lowly, and you cannot help the shiver that courses down your spine when his deep voice reaches your skin. Tovar notices the effect he holds on you, and without dwelling much on the appropriateness of his actions, he approaches you, his gaze never once wavering as the water dances around your bodies. You hold your breath, afraid to break whatever haze that befell you, and when he is a mere hair-breadth away, you look up and into his eyes, allow your chest to rise and fall rapidly as shallow breaths come and go, signaling your excitement and nervousness. 

You watch him closely, and in turn, Tovar studies every movement of your body, as if you were a prey he has been seeking for ions. He never once looks beneath your neckline, and you credit his immense self-control, knowing you are incapable of offering him similar comfort. When your back touches the cold tiles of the wall, you swallow the lump in your throat and quiver, lips shaking at the prospect of whatever the vampire in front of you has in mind. 

His eyes are dark with promises only you know he can fulfill, and as stares into you, you are suddenly taken back to a similar moment, one that has you regret ever hurting him. Focusing on the scar across his eye, you raise your hand and slide it over his temple and cheek, frowning at imposing such lasting violence on his skin. 

“Forgive me,” there is nothing more to say, the history you find in his eyes letting you know he remembers what you have done to him upon your first meeting. He shuts his eyes and nuzzles into your hand, unaware of the way his hand reaches out to grasp at your upper arm. Tovar pulls you closer until you are breathing the same air, and when he opens his eyes and finds tears rolling down your cheeks, he wipes them away, his attention seeking your lips when a droplet of water sticks to the lower skin. Sliding his thumb across your mouth, he parts his own lips and tilts closer to you, until nose nudges yours and forces you to look up. 

So very close to feeling his mouth steal your breath away, you feel your heart shatter into a million pieces when Tovar suddenly moves to the other end of the bath, his back turned away from you and his muscles rippling with an anger you have not seen for weeks. 

“Wha-”

“I cannot understand you.” He is seething, and had you not been sure he was finally going to claim you, you would have thought this was all a dream, a very sick, twisted dream. 

“What…what do you mean?”

“You allow me such…liberties, and yet you- you seek out the merchant boy whenever you can? As if we are nothing but- but…” Tovar trips over his words, and your frown deepens when you finally piece together what he means to say to you. 

“Tovar, if there is a concern you wish to address, do so plainly.” You approach him then, voice wavering slightly when he turns around and stares somewhere behind you, as if he could not bear looking into your eyes.

“Do not play coy with me, bruja.” The name he breathes, one that slowly turned into something that makes you smile, now sounds nothing more than an insult, and you feel a pang of hurt at the insinuation behind his words. You try to maintain your composure, but the manner in which he is set in his mind lets you know he may not see past his perspective at this moment. 

“I am not one to jest, Tovar, and until you are willing to speak freely and listen in turn, I will waste my time. Enjoy the bath…alone.” You attempt to move past him but he reaches out for your arm and pulls you back, causing you to snarl at him out of fear of getting hurt any further. 

“Do not touch me!” 

He removes his hand immediately, staring at fiery eyes as you narrow them at him in irritation. You know you should leave, not speak another word that may be misconstrued or worse, one that cannot be taken back. But his anger lights your own and you walk towards him, pushing your finger into his chest as you part with nothing but lies. 

“If you were vain, I would justify your anger as such. But this is different and whatever jealousy you are falling into is unnecessary.” 

“And what if I am?” His question is unexpected, skin buzzing with energy now that you have spoken of what his mind has been thinking of for the past few days. You attempt to convince yourself to retract whatever thoughts brewing deep within, but seeing him react so strongly to your proximity and assertiveness pushes you further and before you can control yourself and walk away, you retort with a hiss. 

“If you were, I would tell you that you have no reason to be. I am nothing to you, and I am certainly not interested in this swine of a man. This behavior will only-” Perhaps the universe decided against your response and wished to avoid any further misunderstandings because just as you are readying yourself for an outright battle, the doorkeeper walks in and interrupts your conversation. 

“Yajib ‘an tughadiron,” she requests for both of you to leave, and you suspect it may be because of the hamam’s rules, the ones you chose to ignore for Tovar’s sake. Shaking your head at him, you do not care for your nudity as you leave the waters and haphazardly wear your tunics once more, apologizing to the young woman for any inconvenience you may have caused and leaving before Tovar can so much as think of another sentiment against you.

Only when you reach the dressing rooms do you allow Tovar’s concerns to settle in, and you settle against the wall, eyes looking into nothing when it occurs to you that he has plainly admitted to feeling jealous of your conversations with the merchant. You are unsure why he would allow his mind to tread towards such thoughts when he can plainly hear your words and understand your inquiries are nothing more than shared interests in the trade products. Your journey was close to an end. Edfu was a few days away from your destination and you wished to see what goods you can buy from the merchants that may be of benefit to you once you leave. 

There was absolutely no reason for Tovar to ever waste a moment on why you are conversing with the man, and you shake your head in disappointment, knowing this could all be avoidable had he asked to speak with you on your…relationship. 

Putting on your clothes, you swear beneath your breath at the thickness of that man, knowing that it was probably as difficult to get him to confess his feelings to you before as it was now. 

“Goddess help me,” you speak to the empty room, only to flinch when you hear heavy breathing emanate from behind you. Turning around, you find Tovar’s chest rising and falling angrily, as if the mere sight of you caused him extreme discomfort. Not caring for the display of intensity, you pull on your tunics and avoid his gaze, allowing him another moment of respite before you truly rip into him. He surprises you, though, when he approaches you and waits for you to look at him before he speaks. 

“No, you are wrong. You are not nothing to me, and…I- I am jealous bruja, I have been jealous for weeks now.” The way in which he murmurs his confession disarms you, and you stop moving altogether, eyebrows furrowing at his choice in words and their timing. You cross your arms and meet his gaze head on, refusing to back down as you have done so weeks prior. 

“Who could you possibly be jealous of, Tovar? I rarely speak to anyone in our company.” You know better than to interrupt him, but you cannot help the question from leaving your lips, wanting him to think through his next words carefully to avoid irritating you any further. Then he shakes his head and swallows the lump in his throat, and you are, once again, mollified at how easily he affects your mood. 

“I am not jealous of those men, I- I am jealous of-” You can tell he is struggling to find the right word to speak, because his hands clench and unclench, jaw set in place and lips pursing with impatience, as if he hated himself for not being capable of speaking his mind freely. You wait for him, knowing that you may never have him so forthright ever again, and as his breathing calms, you are suddenly hit with a wave of defeat and hurt, feelings you were positive are not your own but his. 

“I am jealous of the rain.” The words escape his lips, barely above a whisper, yet heavy to feel like a confession of the soul. For a man of his stature, you are shocked to see a shaking ripple descend down his form, his hands ball into fists at his sides, the knuckles turning white, as though he is holding himself back from closing the distance between you. When he finally musters up the courage to look at you, you are met with a vulnerability you never thought you could see in him again—a rawness that strips away the hardened exterior he wears like armor. 

His brows knit together, raised in despair, as if willing you to understand the storm inside him without him having to explain. You blink in confusion, unsure what he wants to convey. Tovar mistakes your quietness for indifference, clearing his throat to give himself enough time to find the necessary sentiments in hopes of forcing your heart to beat for him. When he speaks again, his voice is steadier, though no less anguished. 

“I am jealous of the rain, mi amor. I am jealous of the rain because it touches you so intimately, night after night, when I cannot.” His shoulders, broad and strong, sag ever so slightly as if they can no longer bear the weight of his emotions. And you feel your breath hitch, his words settling like an ocean of water on your chest, heavy with longing and need. He does not stop, the floodgates of his emotions now open and unreserved, begging to be released for his sake and for a glimpse of hope from yours. 

“I am jealous of the rain because it kisses your skin continuously when I dream of nothing else but that very thing.” Tovar takes a step closer, the space between you trembling with unspoken yearning. You can feel heat radiation from him, the fire in his words burning brother with every syllable. And your eyes, full of wonder and curiosity, pull him in further offering him a glimpse of what he held in his arms centuries ago. He was not a man of faith, far from it, but seeing the manner in which your body leans into his space, Tovar is sure his prayers have been answered, and your spirit finally felt the desperation of his very essence. 

“I am jealous of the rain because…” His voice falters, his jaw tightening as he struggles to continue, afraid you fear the depth of what he desires from you. “Because every time it comes, you welcome it with open arms and smiles, letting it do whatever it wishes with your body…when I am desperately-” A single tear trails down his cheek, and you see his composure shatter as his hand briefly reaches towards you, only to stop mid-air, retreating as though he’s afraid his touch might burn you. 

Or worse, your skin sets him into an eternal fire. 

“When I am desperately wanting to be the one you welcome, the one you grace with upturned lips.” Tovar’s revelation hands in the air, raw and unrelenting. You feel your heart ache for him, but before you can respond, he surges forward again, his voice rising with an almost pained intensity. You dare not flinch, knowing whatever has hold of him will soon overflow through you and push you to put him out of his misery. 

“Do you know what it feels like, bruja? To be so close to you and yet so far away? To burn every time you laugh, every time you speak, knowing that I am nothing but a shadow at your side? One that you despise because of what my kind has done to you.”

He steps back as if his own confession has wounded him, his hands shaking at the thought of you denying his heart, the one he had no choice but to bear to you, uncaring of what you may do to it. His next words are softer, almost fragile, as if spoken into a void he is confident will only face him in return and ignore him. 

“I am jealous of the rain…but I am terrified as well. Terrified that you will leave once I-”

“Pero,” you interrupt, trembling at the intensity of his feelings, and the knowledge that he more than reciprocated your own but was drowning in a sea of helplessness. 

Pero freezes, his dark eyes widening with disbelief at hearing you call him by his given name. You step forward, lips parting in anticipation, and for the first time, your voice breaks through his storm of self-pity.

“You have been jealous of the rain, and all this time, I have been jealous of the moon.” His brow furrows, confusion flickering across his features at hearing you return his confession in kind. But you continue, growing steadier the closer you move towards him. 

“Watching how it lights up your face at night when I wish to be the one you look to.” His breath catches as your words settle between you, and you press on, your own emotions spilling forth like a river breaking through land. 

“Longing for you to see me the way I see you. Praying to every god known to man that you will look past my nature and find my heart, the one that speaks your name with every beat.” Pero’s expression shifts, his guarded walls crumbling as he steps closer. His voice is shaking with uncertainty as finally allows himself to touch you. His hand finds your cheek and he leans forward to rest his forehead against your own, shutting his eyes to ensure that this was not a dream, that you were in his arms, returning his love and more. 

“How can you be jealous of the moon…when you are mi luna?” He pulls away then, searching your eyes for any lies and finding nothing but unadulterated truth. You bite into your lower lip as his eyes pierce through you, leaving you breathless and needy for him. Swallowing hard, you cannot hold back any longer and throw your arms around him, letting your body sag against his embrace as he holds you against him and tightens his arms around you.  

“I—I cannot breathe when you are not near.” Pero releases a deep sigh of relief at your confession, his breath a ragged whisper as he nuzzles into your neck and scents your intoxicating skin. 

“Dios mío, bruja. You will be the death of me.” For the first time in decades, the weight of longing gives way to the lightness of surrender, and you dig your nails into his back, wanting him to know that you cannot ever allow space between you now that it has finally disappeared. 

“I think I am finally starting to believe you mean that.” You chuckle against him, and as you feel him pull away, you look at him and search his face for any hint of hesitation. But all you find is sincerity, his eyes fixed on you, dark and unwavering, as if you are the only thing anchoring him to this earth. 

“And if I do?” Pero asks, his voice low and tinged with an unguarded mischievousness.  

Your chest tightens at the rawness in his tone, the unspoken please woven into his words forcing your heart to pound against your ribcage. The warmth of his presence pulls you in, and you swallow nervously, wanting to ensure you have his undivided attention before you reveal your deepest desires.  

“Then I beg you to show me.”

His eyes, once filled with mischief, convey disbelief, and he simply stares at you as though he cannot comprehend what he is hearing. The air around you feels charged, heavy with unspoken hunger that neither of you dare to release just yet. 

“Amor,” he says, ceasing to breathe until he is certain of what you are asking of him. 

“Pero, please.” You clasp onto the collar of his tunic, eyes locked onto his as you will him to understand that you mean your request with every ounce of your being. 

The conflict in his eyes is palpable, his jaw clenching as he fights some internal battle, his physical needs pushing past all else. 

“You wish for me to-” He stops himself, his words faltering as if he is afraid to say them aloud. Pero brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, the touch featherlight, yet intense enough to send a shiver down your spine, the moment making it impossible to look away. 

“Yes,” you nod, praying he can move past any reluctance and see your desire for him as clear as day. “I need you, Pero.”

For a moment, he simply looks at you, as though trying to memorize every detail of your face. Then, with a deep sigh, his gaze softens and he grazes your cheek with his fingers. 

“If I have you,” he says quietly, wanting you to understand how fervent his feelings for you are, “I will never again let you out of my sight. I will fight the heavens and the earth to keep you by my side.” His promise should terrify you, the possessiveness and loyalty he displays making you think twice before you completely surrender to him. But the opposite occurs, and you find yourself willing to forever be at his mercy.

“Pero, I am yours,” You reply, balancing yourself on your toes as you tilt your chin up to offer him a final answer. “I have always been yours.”

His lips curve into the faintest smile, a bittersweet expression that speaks of all the pain, longing, and love he has carried for so long. Slowly, he leans in, parting his lips as you both shut your eyes and finally give your hearts away. 

Again. 

The world around you fades into nothingness as your breath mingles with his own, your lips touching with a mixture of tenderness and desperation. The soft kiss is thick with emotions, and you dare not let go of him, terrified he might disappear should you release him. Pero must feel a similar fear, his hands rough and trembling as he holds onto your waist with one and cups your neck with the other. You both tilt your heads to the side with need to deepen the kiss, and no sooner than you part your lips does Pero, with fierce and unapologetic rawness, collide against you. He presses against you with a fervor that steals the air from your lungs, the hand around your neck slipping into your damp hair and tangling in the strands as he pulls you impossibly closer. His body molds into yours, a growl escaping his throat when he feels your hand find their way to his chest and clutch at him as if your own life depended on his presence. 

And when his teeth grace your lower lip, a spark of intensity ignites something primal between you. Your heart beats erratically at the shameful thought storms your mind, and you find yourself wishing with every bit of you that Pero could see through your need and give you what you desire without you needing to beg him for it.

Pero must sense the wanton ache threatening to make itself known because he finally breaks away, not to pull back, but to study your expression and take pride in the effect he holds on you. Your lips tingle, swollen and red from the raw intensity of the exchange, and you cannot help but stare at his fangs, wondering what they would feel like as they sank deep into your skin until he gorged himself on you. Then you meet his eyes and are taken aback by the golden rings piercing through you. It takes you but a moment to understand that he knows what you want from him, and he licks his lips dramatically, savoring the taste of you before he leans down and carries you in his arms. 

“Whatever debauched desire you want from me, querida, it is yours.” You take note of the truths between the lines, flushing heatedly at being so seen by the man you have fallen in love with once and learned to love again.

“Take me.” The two words are whispered with assertiveness, and Pero does not need to be told twice, quietly pushing your head to rest on his shoulders as he rushes to his quarters. Neither of you say anything, knowing that should you speak another word, you would have each other out in the open without a single care. Only when you reach the hallway of your rooms does Pero stop and turn to you. 

“Do you wish for my bed, or for your own?” The question is asked, not out of reluctance, but out of care. He wants to ensure your comfort, refusing to place you into a distressing space that may have you guessing his loyalty to you. 

“I want to be in your bed. I- I want to erase the memories of our last goodbye, the silence that followed us like ghosts. I want to feel the world in your arms, Pero, and nowhere else.” The sentiment is heartbreaking, and Pero nearly falls to his knees at the depth of your emotions. He nods once and makes his way to his quarters, unlocking the door and walking inside as you snap your fingers to shut the door behind you. 

He sets you down and gulps nervously, hands etching to strip you bare but waiting for permission to do so. You rest your forehead on his chest to quiet your mind, and when you are sure you can meet his piercing eyes once more, you raise your head and look at him. A faint glow of candle light dances shadows against the stone walls, the tension in the air simmering and threatening to overflow. You lock your gaze upon him, wishing to hear what he has dreamed of, hoping it is not too far from what your mind conjured up of him. 

“What do you want?” You ask, allowing his presence to anchor you to the ground so you do not fall over from the proximity of his rigid body. 

“I want…you.” Pero says, his hesitance born not from his feelings but the self-control he is fighting to maintain. “I have never felt as deep and as torturous a desire as I feel for you.” His confession pins you to him, and you suddenly feel like a prey ensnared with her predator, haunted by the thought of having him in such a way that the universe deemed unholy. 

But how could such love be unholy, when all you seek to do is pray his name like a sweet benediction, and in turn, permit him to prostrate at your feet as he entreats for a glimpse of your affections. 

Unable to bear the separation for another moment, you pull away and begin to undo the knots of your clothes. Pero bites into his lower lip, refusing to focus anywhere but your fingers as you unlace the fabric shielding you from his eyes. With each piece of fabric you throw onto the floor, Pero finds it a little more difficult to maintain himself, the last ounce of self-control threatening to evaporate into thin air. 

Afraid of what he may do to you, he mirrors you and slowly unclothes himself, finding the fire in your eyes as heated and cardinal as the flame burning his soul. And when you are both left with nothing but your linen undergarments, Pero stretches his hand and takes hold of the band around your breasts, waiting until you nod to unwind it from your body. He slips his fingers beneath the white fabric and pushes it down, no longer able to keep his gaze appropriate as your skin is displayed for his hungry eyes. He looks at you, and he finds his mind conjuring up images of similar moments from a past life, ones that had him kiss and bite along the curve of your delicious breasts until you could not bear it any longer. He ceases to breathe altogether, returning his attention to your face as he steps closer to you and pushes your lower undergarment to the floor, finally allowing him to view you whole. 

“You…you undo me. Every glance, every breath, every inch of you.” His voice quivers as he speaks, his hands grasping your waist and forcing you to shiver in return. 

“Pero,” you place your hands across his chest, fisting the linen of his shirt and pushing it a little higher, signaling your need to see him. “I wish to see you…all of you.” You gulp anxiously, wanting to simultaneously rapidly surrender to him and slowly fall in his arms. His eyes darken, a mixture of determination and something more primal flickering in his gaze at your request sounding so melodious to his ears. He removes your hands from his chest and takes hold of the edge of his shirt, raising it high above his head and swinging it behind him as he stands in all his glory. 

You finally allow yourself to properly view him, and you cannot help but gasp at the glory of his body, the muscles rippling when your gaze falls upon them and envision long nights of passion, soaked in sweat and pleasure.  

“Goddess in heaven, you are…breathtaking.” You whisper, fingers training the sharp lines of his jaw, down to his neck and lower to his rigid stomach. His breath quickens beneath your touch, and you feel your heart threaten to beat out of your chest when he grasps your hand and pulls you against him, until your hard nipples brush against the hair on his chest. 

“You have stolen the words from my lips.” Pero smirks at you, and you feel a bit dazed from the sudden, possessive touches, wishing he could end your misery then and there, push you down on all force and fill you with his gorgeous cock until you knew nothing but the sound of his name and the heat of his seed spilling inside you. You blink at him, distracted by thoughts of what he may do to you, only to find his grip loosening around your wrist and nearly pull away.

“Is there something on your mind?” Your voice drops, filled with worry at the thought of him doubting you. 

“I- I do not wish to hurt you. I fear that should I…should we continue-” Pero hesitates for a moment, uncertainty creeping into his heart as he registers the dazed look about you due to his neediness. He fears what he may do should you continue to be so willing and pliant in his embrace. He knows, and remembers, all that you have done to each other centuries ago, but a part of him understands that this was then. 

And you were here, now. 

“I have wanted you, for so long mi cielo. I am unsure whether I can be gentle tonight.” You interrupt his train of thought, cupping his face with reverence, until his eyes focus on you once more, and ignore the flying doubts threatening to halt your union. 

“You do not need to hold back,” you continue, voice assertive, yet filled with a desperate need that grows hotter the longer you remain so far from him, “not with me.”

“I do not need gentle, Pero. I need you.” You breathe with a finality, pressing your body closer to his until he sees and feels nothing but you. His lips part at your confidence, cock twitching at hearing what you crave from him. 

“You will tell me to stop,” he says, voice laced with a warning that you know better than to ignore,  “tell me to stop before I go too far.”

“I am yours, always.” your eyes never leave his, the trust between you simmering and reaching a zenith more powerful than any fear. He leans down, molding his lips with your own as he wraps his arms around your thighs and carries you, deepening the kiss when you cross your legs behind his back and swallow his moans. He kneels on the bed, but does not let go of you, slowly moving across the soft sheets until he lays you down against his pillows. You twist your head to the cushions beneath you, taking in Pero’s musk and filling your senses with his scent. He sits back and watches you lose yourself in him. Waiting for you to satisfy your cravings, Pero traces his fingers down your body, clenching his jaws tightly when he flicks a nipple and watches it pucker beneath his touch. 

There is a glow about your skin that he cannot fathom, and he commits this moment to memory, wanting to create new visions grounded more in the present than the past. 

“Your blood, it sings to me, mi bruja,” Pero groans, forcing a shudder across your very being as his words settle and pull you from your momentary haze. “I can hear it rushing to the surface, desperately pleading to touch my tongue.” He gives you no time to dwell on his promises, falling against you and attacking your neck with wet kisses and teasing bites. You drag your nails across his back, tangling your fingers in his hair as he holds onto you hard enough to brand you. Your scratches sends a new wave of pleasure down his spine, and he continues to lick and nip at your sternum, the top of your breasts, and at last, your hardened peaks. His fingers deftly pinch the other nipple, rolling it aggressively until you finally ask him what you have thought of since you knew who he was to you.

“Do it, please.” You moan, your body aching to feel his teeth sink deep within and drag your blood onto his tongue. He blows air against the cold, damp skin of your breasts, watching you squirm beneath him and shake with shameless lust. 

“No, no little one. The first time my teeth sink into you,” he hums his pleasure against you, voice dark and seductive as he leaves a trail of bites down your stomach, “it will be when my cock is deep inside you, filling you with my seed.” He pushes your thighs apart, nesting his hips perfectly against you, his cock twitching against your heated core deliciously, the hard, velvety skin kissing your mound and silently asking it to wait…just a little bit more. 

“Ohhhh g-gods,” your hands grip his shoulders tightly, and you muster up the courage to look down, wanting to watch his every move as he finally brings you to the deepest abyss. 

“Por favor, mi hechicera, call for me. Call for me as you always have, as I have longed to hear again.” He urges as one hand descends down your body and draws patterns across your inner thighs while the other rests above your heart, wanting to hear it beat his name with each kiss he delivers to your flushed body. 

“Pero,” you sigh longingly, the word slipping from your lips both like a prayer and a confession. 

“Hmmm, again.” Pero groans, his touches growing more confident, reaching just a bit closer to where you ache for him. He roams his eyes across your body, finding the familiarity of your beauty melancholic yet intoxicating. 

“P-Pero…oh-” Again, you moan his name with flagrant agony, suspended between pain and pleasure. He smiles at you then, watching as your spirit recognizes his own and reaches for some semblance of relief. When your eyes remember to open once more, Pero slips his fingers in between your folds and drags his middle finger twice to force your attention on him. You reach for the hand atop your breast, intertwining your fingers with his own and digging your heels into the sheets in preparation for what is to come. You mouth another plea, tears threatening to stream from your eyes as you feel another finger tease your entrance. 

“Moan for me, little luna.” He commands, his teeth biting at your upper thigh as you flinch beneath him, the knowledge that he can bring your demise so easily soaking his fingers instantly. 

“Please, touch me Pero.”

“Where would you like me to touch you?” Pero’s voice is rough with hunger, the beast within wishing to have you now etching to make himself known with each little whimper you gift him. 

“Where I ache for you.” You attempt to bring yourself closer to his hand, fuck yourself on his fingers for some relief, but Pero shakes his head and pulls away, dragging your wetness across your thighs and pressing down on your hips to keep you still. 

“Here,” he teases with a smirk, hands laying flat against your waist. “Or here?” He moves his fingers slowly across your stomach, just barely touching your skin, chuckling to himself when he sees how impatient you are becoming. “Perhaps…here.” Knowing he cannot hold back much longer, Tovar brings his hand back to your core, allowing you a single breath before he pushes two fingers deep inside your cunt. 

“Yesssss, everywhere. Pero….everywhere.” You arch your back, lost in the sensation of his thick fingers as they prod at your inner walls. Torn between keeping your eyes on him and throwing your head back, you blink hazily at him until you can no longer maintain his gaze, the golden rings suddenly taking over his orbs driving your ecstasy further. 

“Do you want more, my love?” He kisses your navel, nosing at the skin and breathing in your scent. His senses flood with your essence, and he drives his fingers deeper, pushing against a place that has you squirming beneath him and reaching for his arms. 

“Please, Pero.”

“I have waited for this for centuries,” Pero murmurs, his voice raw with longing. 

“As have I.” You barely manage to breathe the sentiment, unable to focus on much else apart from the pleasure he continues to ring from your body. 

“You are exquisite.” You push your head aside, biting into the sheets to prevent more noises from spilling into the room. Tovar pouts at your timidity, and he stops moving altogether until you manage to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. “No, do not shy away from me, mi bruja.” He feels the heat rise between you, and he drags himself lower, until you feel his breath fan over your wet cunt. 

“Let me have you, querida.” He groans, knowing that you both have waited a lifetime to feel this intimacy once more. When you nod your consent, Pero dives into you, tongue licking at the sensitive nub until your nails dig roughly into the skin of his forearm. 

“Nghhh,” you gasp in shock, the strength with which Pero delivers each stroke of his tongue signaling the ferocity of his desire, the wet movement igniting sparks of pleasure that ripple through your body and leave you trembling under his unrelenting touch. You whine his name, along with incoherent thoughts, one that has you wishing he could somehow sink deeper into you. 

“Does that feel good?” His touch is possessive, as dominating and rough as his voice. You wonder how you have passed through life without feeling this each night, but you pay the sadness no mind, wanting to relish in finally being in his arms. 

“Hmm,” you instinctively respond to him, skin rising with goosebumps as he wraps his lips around your aroused peak, grazing his teeth across the small muscle until he feels you lose your mind. 

“That taste of you…it drives me mad with need, amor.” Pero confesses as he tongues at your folds, driving his fingers harder and quicker inside you until your walls begin to flutter around him, pulling him in deeper with each pass he expertly delivers to your weeping core. 

“I can feel you, embracing my fingers, growing more heated and—tight.” The growl that escapes his throat is enough to push you higher to the edge, the desire laced in his words and his actions letting you know this was only the beginning. You look at him then, finding his golden eyes trained directly at you. The knowledge that such a powerful man has willingly chosen to surrender himself to you is intoxicating and you pray for him one last time, finding your past, present, and future in the intensity of his gaze. 

“Pero, I-...I’m,” you stammer, the pressure building inside you threatening to spill over against his mouth. He does not let up once, continuing his ministrations until he feels you clench around him even tighter. 

“Fall apart for me, amor.” Tovar commands softly, allowing himself a moment of respite before he returns his attention to your warm cunt. “Let me taste your pleasure—now.” 

The order comes in between thick laps of his tongue against your folds and harsh thrusts of his digits into your aching core, the sensations overwhelming you until you are powerless. With a few more brushes of his fingers against your quivering walls, you submit yourself to the pleasure, a silent scream signaling your climax to Tovar, the expression of ecstasy on your glowing features forcing him to continue pulling more from your body. 

He maintains his gaze upon you, his fingers halting as far inside you as he can reach until he feels a soft spot push against him. He rubs against the swollen bit of you a few times, enclosing his lips around your flushed pearl one last time and sucking as hard as he can. Had his arm not been against your chest, Tovar is sure you would have flown from him, and he maintains his strength against you as you continue coming in his arms, sobbing his name over and over again until he sees your tears wet his sheets. 

Not wanting to turn the pleasure uncomfortable, he stops his attention and raises himself from your thighs, slowly slipping his fingers from your core and watching as more wetness seeps out of you. 

“You are radiating.” Pero comments, waiting for your eyes to find him before dragging his fingers across his tongue and licking them dry. You let go of his arm and reach for your cunt, covering it with your hands embarrassingly as you attempt to sit up and feel his skin slide against yours.  Might it be because of me?” The question is asked before you find his lips and slip your tongue inside his mouth, tasting your arousal on his lips and moaning at the filthy nature of what the two of you are doing. 

“You- you know as well as I this is all for you, because of you.” You reply as you kiss across his chest, marveling at the sheer power hiding beneath the scars and muscles on display for your hungry eyes. Sneaking a glance at him, you wait until his golden eyes shine brighter before dragging your hand down his stomach. 

“Ahh, b-brujita-” he moans in return, the warmth and softness of your palm holding him hard enough to have his cock still twitch against you. He kisses your temple as he shuts his eyes, feeling your touches grow more confident and teasing. 

“Why do you enjoy calling me a witch so…sinfully?” You giggle when he hisses through gritted teeth, your fingers rolling his base right as you drag your nails to the flushed tip of his member. 

“B-because you have spun your—oh, your spells upon my heart, bewitching it with your- your soft touches, and sweet words.” Pero admits desperately, his hands resting against your shoulders as you slide your hand back and forth. 

“I do not recall doing such intricate designs…amor.” Your smile does wonders to him, the playfulness of your pleasure allowing him to remember nights he thought he could never recall again. Then you use his language, and he feels as if the world around him is passing away into nothing. 

“No? T-then explain how madly bewitched I am by your very soul.” There is longing laced around his simple confession, and you cannot help but pull him against you, wrapping an arm around his neck and kissing him passionately as he pushes you against the bed. 

“Pero,” the heat you feel in your core intensifies, but you know you want, more than anything, to hold the weight of his cock on your tongue before he takes you. 

“Ahhh, hermosa- por favor, sácame de mi miseria.” You push him on his back and he falls willingly, fingers twisting in your hand instantly when he sees you descend down his body and continue teasing his cock. 

“Will you let me have you as well?” You ask, kissing and nipping down his body, never once breaking his gaze as you lick down his navel and breathe against the base of his cock, waiting for him to give you permission. 

“You do not need-” He begins to say but you cut him off with a kiss to the tip of his cock, claiming his as yours. The action shocks him into silence, and he throws his head back, revealing the sharp canines he tries his best to keep in hiding. 

“Let me taste your cock on my lips, please!” You beg, mouth and hand aching to feel him against you.

“Soy tuyo.” He sighs in defeat, resting his thumb against your lips and rubbing the plump skin twice before nodding in acceptance. Not a second passes before your mouth wraps completely around him, and Pero is sure he has died and gone to the highest of heavens, the warmth of your throat proving to him that such wonders do exist. 

“Ahhh diablilla,” his breath comes in ragged gasps, fingers twisting into your hair again as you look at him and continue to take him as far down as you could. A mixture of his arousal and your saliva streams down your chin, and Pero whines when he sees you drag it across the rest of him and massage his base, not caring for how filthy you may look. 

“You look beautiful…with your lips wrapped around my cock.” He groans, hands tightening on your neck as you move your head up and down the length of him. When you are sure will not turn away, you lightly pass your teeth against the crown of his cock, watching as his hips push forward unintentionally and send him deeper inside you. 

“How far are you willing to go to make me lose my sanity, woman?” He snarls at you, shaking his head in disbelief as you continue to pleasure you, as you know. You smirk as you worship him, removing your mouth from his velvety, hard skin for a moment to respond and returning your touches again to prevent him from retorting in kind. 

“Far,” your eyes meet his with a spark of defiance and mischief, and Tovar is powerless beneath you, completely and utterly powerless. 

“I- I fear you may not have to…I- I am,” he stammers, groaning in unbelievable rapture as he imagines what your cunt must feel like if your mouth flutters around his length like an angel’s wings. 

“I cannot take much more, love…you feel too- too heavenly.” Pero admits shamelessly, his body trembling with the overwhelming sensations coursing through his veins. You shake your head then, watching as the action spirals him back against the bed once more.

“I thought I was your little devil?” You respond, kissing along his wet cock and watching as he fights to maintain some semblance of control. 

“Oh god…the devil was once an angel, querida.” His voice is strained with need, and you are unsure if he wishes for you to continue or halt. 

“If I am an angel, then you must be my god…my master.” You whisper to him then, moving your hands across him and pressing your breasts near the reddened tip to prove to him you are as dazed, if not more, by his existence as he appears to be by your own.

“No…no little one, it is you who is the master of this lonely heart. You and no one else.” You do not expect such a heartfelt revelation to break through the wanton desires swimming in his golden eyes, the words forcing you to stop altogether as you memorize the somber and hopelessly-in-love features gazing at you.  

“Come here!” Pero uses your momentary distraction to his advantage, dragging you against his body and pushing you beneath him once more, nesting his hips perfectly in between your thighs and snatching both of your wrists above your head.

“But I-” you begin, but he silences you with a passionate kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily until he can taste his arousal in your mouth. The knowledge that you both swallowed the other’s essence deep inside of you sends his heart into a frenzy, and you must reach a similar conclusion because you respond to his vigor with as much madness, swirling your tongue around his own and praying he can finally put you out of your misery and take you. 

“Another twist of your tongue and I would have lost myself in your mouth.” He warns as he kisses your jaw, laughing when he hears you question him through a fit of giggles. 

“Is that so bad?”

“No, but if I am finally having you, then I am coming in your pretty cunt first…and then I will fill your other holes. ¿Me entiendes?” His voice drops with desire, eyebrows raised in determination as you finally allow his words to settle in your mind. 

“Pero, take me. Now…and do not dare to be gentle.” You plead, burning with a need to feel his cock brand your cunt as his.

“I want you to ruin me,” you confess, hands balling into fists as you attempt to loosen his grip from around you. He growls at your request, letting go of your arms and smiling when your arms reach around his back in an attempt to pull him closer to you. “And put me back together…with your touch etched on every inch of my skin.”

“You will tell me if-” You cut him off one last time with a fierce kiss, nodding when you release him and reach for his cock.

“Look at me,” he drags your attention away from the space between your bodies to his golden eyes, staring at you closely until he ensures you are focusing on nothing but him. “And know that I am never letting you go.” His demand is low and full of promise, and before you can answer him, he removes your hand from his length and drags it twice across your folds, not wasting another moment before pushing himself into your tightening walls. 

“F-fuck,” the expletive would shock him had he not known you, and he rests his weight against his hands, sheathing himself completely inside you until there is nothing but the air separating your bodies. He waits for you to breathe, and when he is sure you have adjusted to him, he pulls out as far as he can before pushing back inside with a groan. 

“You are…my desires incarnate.” He groans, one hand gripping your hips as the other fists into the sheets beneath your head. 

“Your cock is—it feels like a fire blazing inside of me. Hot, heavy and s-so fucking hard.” Your body arches towards him, and you cannot help but lose yourself in his eyes as his thrusts deliver with a steady, roughening pace. Your words undo him, and he cannot control his body from pushing harder into you, the feeling of your cunt, so warm and inviting, making him wish he can stay attached to you forever. 

“I feel you in my soul, my love.” He nudges his nose against your chin, breathing heavily as your fingers tug on his hair and beg him for more.

“Ohhh, yes!”

Your cries match his groans, and as you find that familiar pleasure build once more, you are met with a vision not unlike the one you are experiencing now, one that has you looking forward to all the nights you would share with Pero now that you found him again. 

“Your cunt is heaven, as if you were made for me. I fear I will never get enough of you.” Pero shakes his head as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, finger bruising your skin as your sighs grow louder in his ears. 

“You have…completely undone me, Pero.” Your gasps are music to his ears, and he feels your core clench harder around him, pulling him in deeper with each push of his hips. 

“How is that,” he asks, his voice gruff with need, “I can feel your heartbeat,” you tilt your head to the side as he sucks on your neck and marks you as his, “each time you clench around me?”

“Please,” unable to form more words, you plead for him to finally drink from you, wanting to be connected to him in every way possible. 

“Has your body learned my touch already, mi bruja?” He chuckles at you then, watching as your skin comes alive the more he shapes your cunt to his length. 

“Does it remember my cock when- oh fuck, when it claimed you time after another all those years ago?” His hand caresses down your side, until it rests against your thigh and pushes it higher. You cross your legs behind his back, his cock filling you deliciously. 

“Pero, you are killing me.”

“No, little one, I am calling for your witch’s blood to pray for me.” His whole being is raw with need, and he grows crazed when your body responds to his madness and glows for him. 

“Oh, she likes to hear how I crave her?” You want to sob at his teasing, but with each word he whispers to you, you feel yourself growing closer to the edge of release. 

“Does that please you—knowing that, when I fill you with my seed, and keep you in my arms forever, that your witch will be ruined for all eternity? Does that make you wet, mi bruja traviesa?”

“Yes, oh- oh gods, Pero, please. Claim me!” You cry out at the sentiment, body shuddering with anticipation of what you are confident will be the greatest pleasure known to the world.

“Lord knows how fucking gratifying it will feel to have your blood course through my veins…knowing that I have feasted upon you, mierda- ah mierda…until you have ruined me.” His growls increase, as do his thrusts, and when you turn to look at him and find his eyes no longer golden but red, you beg him one last time, knowing he will not turn you down once more. 

“I- I am close…so close.”

“Where can I-” He stares at your skin, unsure of where you would rather hold evidence of his bite. There is madness storming in his eyes, one that has you cutting him off and telling him to do whatever he wishes with you. 

“Wherever you desire, my love.”

“I…love you, my beautiful witch. With every part of me capable of knowing such a feeling.” He confess, his hands trembling as he wraps his hand around your neck and tilts your head far back so he can gain access to the top of your breasts. Your body is prepared to explore in pleasure, and when you feel him kiss the top of your nipple twice, you ask him to join you. 

“Pero, be with me.”

The moment his teeth pierce your sink, a strangely familiar warmth washes over your body, and you flutter around his cock instantly, the pleasure of your coupling and his feeding blinding your sight and sending you into a state of ecstasy you long to experience again already. You can hear him groan against you, his seed filling your womb with long, hot ropes of warmth that mirrors the heat beating against your chest. He gulps you down hungrily, enough to satiate the desire he feels for you but not to send you into a sleep. When he is sure he has had his fill of you, he clenches his jaw and pulls away, licking the wound twice to prevent it from bleeding any further. 

Pero looks at you then, a part of him afraid of how you may react when you find the beast in him wanting for more. But as you always have, you caress his cheek gently and pull him down, kissing his lips one last time as you finally whisper those words to him. 

“I l-love you Pero, oh so much.”

He nearly cries at the sentiment, unsure of what good he has done in his life that deserves such affections from you. Slowly, he pulls himself away from your body, wincing in discomfort when the sudden lack of your heat washes over him. You pout in return, wanting to remain filled with him until the morning, but knowing that you both needed a moment of respite if you were to continue through the night. 

Pero falls to his back, not wasting a moment as he pulls you to his side, until you are intertwined in each other. Neither of you say anything, and Pero meditates on the words you whispered to him seconds ago, wondering if you were merely remembering your past or truly meant what you have conveyed to him. 

The room feels suspended in time, the air heavy with the revelations you parted to one another throughout the night. He leans over and urges you with a question. 

“What can you remember?” He asks then, wanting to know, more than anything, if you recall him the way he knows you.

“I feel as if I- I remember everything.” You look up at him and smile, fingers drawing patterns across his damp chest, wanting to be sure you were still in his arms. 

“Tell me,” his breath fans over your temple as he kisses you once, reutrning the smile on your features and waiting to hear your response. 

“I remember your eyes, how safe they always made me feel. And I remember your touch, the way you tended to be soft when you loved me, and the roughness you brought when you craved me.” Your heart pounds as you recall the visions that have plagued your mind for weeks on end. And Pero’s lips part, but no words escape him. He swallows hard, his throat bobbing as you continue to prove to him that, whatever your heart knows now, is more important that what you have felt for him before. 

“Most of all, I remember how deeply you loved me and how I could not breathe without being in your arms.” 

The silence stretches between you, heavy and intimate with promises of what is to come. When you speak again, your voice is tinged with an almost unbearable sadness, afraid of what his answer will be to the question that plagued your spirit for a while now. 

“Where will you go…when this is all over?”

“I will find those responsible for our lost time,” his jaw is set with determination, tone cold and resolute when he offers you nothing but the truth. 

“And I will kill every last one of them.” Your brows knit together when you see pain flicker across his face, the memories of what your kind and his have done to you pushing you to ask one last request of him. 

“Let me come with you.” Your hand brushes against his, playing with the veins on his wrist as you wait for a response. 

“I cannot, mi corazón.” He shakes his head and silently apologizes to you when he sees anguish etched into your very soul.

“Please?”

“Have I not promised you long ago that these hands were for you? That I would do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” He cups your cheek, the smile he aims at you letting you know that there is a future for the both of you when he is finished with his mission. 

“Can I not offer you the same promise?” You lean into his touch, wanting to prove to him that, just as his hands are for you, your magic is for him, and him alone. 

“Everything I do, my love, is for you. My anger, my wrath, my revenge…it is all for you. I will raise hell on earth if anyone strives to separate us once more. Why would you bloody your hands, when I care not for my own?” Tovar says firmly, wanting you to be certain that his love and loyalty will never pass away again, that he will surely return to your side when he is confident no one means you any harm. 

“Because, Pero…I never understood love until I felt your hands on me, and I want your hands to carry my heart. But for you to do so, I must ask the same in return. I must drench my hands in the same blood, if only to feel worthy of caring for such a gift from you.” Your voice softens his expression, and you pray to the old gods that he sees how far you are willing to go to keep him safe from harm. 

“You wish to carry my heart, when you yourself are my heart?” A storm of emotions swirls around his question, and he leans down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss once more, shaking with the thought of ever putting you in danger again. 

“Pero,” you hold his gaze then, once again knowing that he will not refuse you now that he sees you are just as wanting to rid the world of those who hurt you as he is. 

“Sí, mi amor?” He breathes, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Let me protect you as you once protected me.” You say with determination, and watch as his eyes struggle to comprehend your request. 

“Please, my love. Let me.”

“I could never deny you any request.” With a sigh of defeat, he chuckles at you and nods in agreement, closing his eyes and surrendering to the knowledge that you will always hold him powerless in the palm of your hand. 

“Mi alma, you are too entangled in my soul for me to ever be apart from you. Whatever you desire, you have it.”

“Te amo, mi bruja.” He murmurs, voice thick with emotion, and heart even heavier with the love he sees etched, not just in your eyes, but your very existence. 

“And I love you.” Your words are a promise, a bond unbroken by time or circumstance, one that you solidify with a kiss to his heart before you allow the Luxor night air to lull you to sleep. 

Translation:  Maga - mage Bruja - witch Hechicera - Sorceress/enchantress Capulla - dumbass Querida - dear Hermosa - beautiful Luna - moon Cielo - heaven Cariño - darling/sweetheart Alma - spirit Vida - life Amor - love Corazón - heart Sácame de mi miseria - put me out of my misery Soy tuyo - I am yours Diablilla - little devil ¿Me entiendes? - Do you understand me? Bruja traviesa - naughty witch Mierda - shit

Pedro Pascal Taglist (and any of his characters): 

@paste-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove  @purple-mango @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @wordsnwhiskey @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz  @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie  @marsplsstop @ezrasbirdie @diogodxlot @janebby @juletheghoul @bii-aan-ckaa @nohartandsole @djjarins @giselatropicana @maziken @blackmarketmummy @laviipopii @ew-erin @fan-of-encouragement @melody13522 @clydesducktape @planetariumx @thirddeadlysin @leannawithacapitala @fangirl-316 @thou-creature-of-the-deep @what-iwish-you-knew @nabootycall @pascalsky @pedrostories @anaaaispunk @monocromaticstaircase @severinsnape @elegantduckturtle @gothicxbarbie @revengeisaconfesionofpain @hypnoash @pedritopascalito @eri16 @andiesturgss  @snarwor @christina-loves @tintinn16 @persephones-garden @reaperofmen  @heykathchuu @hotchlover @kaumalade @MSWarriorBabe80 @nakhudanyx @ezras-channel-rat @solemnlyswearss @thegirlnextdoorssister @alpaca-swimsuit @elinedjarin @yuukiblissthemusicwitch @dihra-vesa @pscalwhiskey @midwesternwitchery @daddymando @letskeepthislo-ki @xwalltoast @alexxavicry @ewoksrus @dear-fifi @nagassia @kirsteng42 @s-u-t @yourdragonsfire @girlofchaos @thisshipwillsail316 @squidwell @the-helmet-stays-on @mssbridgerton @buckybarneshairpullingkink @hungrhay @hugmedin @balck-rose-29 @trickstersp8 @happycupcakeenthusiast @daddypedritopascalito @onlinecementery @janebby @domaniquessidehoe @cassiepascal @lillianacristina @bitchwitch1981 @hallecarey1 @vee-bees-vlog @riddlelecter

P.S. If someone can let me know whether the tags are working, I would really appreciate it!!!

[finnlongman]

Guess what! It's The Butterfly Assassin season!

Book 1 takes place in the autumn, starting on 17th September (yesterday! Or in 5 years' time, technically, within the timeline of the book), and runs through to December. It contains lots of relatable Back To School experiences, like trying to hide the fact that you were raised to be an assassin and also, whoops, might've killed someone last night...

This makes it a very seasonally appropriate time to read, reread, review, and/or otherwise post about the book. And last year, I did an epic series of readalong posts on my main blog, with loads of behind-the-scenes info, extra worldbuilding detail, deleted scenes, etc, each one matched up to the date events in the book took place. Those posts are all still up, so you can do the readalong this year, if you missed it last year. You're also welcome to binge-read the whole lot, or dip in and out if there are particular chapters you're curious about.

You can find all the posts in the category "TBA Readalong" on my blog, or go straight to the first post (17/09, 'Eraro').

[asaka-lucy-dr-rc]

Thoughts, as to the reputed DR-Tokyo Tower collaboration?

Thank you for asking, this is actually what I wanted to talk about.

For those who don’t know the collaboration, you can find the details here:

—-

Okay, so first of all, I think the chibi illustrations for this collaboration are super cute! 😊 It's really fun to see how different each one is and what they do.

But...

Isn't their announcement too late? 😭😭😭

Announcing the event on the 17th of September and starting on the 24th? That's way too fast! And it ends on the 14th of October? That's too short! Why couldn't they announce it earlier? 😭😭😭

I actually have a trip planned from the 12th to the 14th of October (since it's a long weekend in Japan), and unfortunately I am busy with a lot of things for a while, so even though I really want to go to this event, it looks like my schedule won't work out... I'm so sad. 😞

Anyway, perhaps this is not what you wanted to ask, so here are some thoughts on the chibi illustrations:

I'm curious about the similarity between the book (perhaps a magazine?)Makoto dropped and the one Maki is reading. What kind of book is it? 🤔

And the magazine Hajime reading looks like a magazine for women to me… (The covers look like women's fashion magazines.) I wonder what articles he is reading.

I have a slight feeling that Nagito reading would have been better than Hajime reading in the first place. It's cute to see him fishing, though. (Maybe they wanted it to have something to do with his luck?)(I know there are conversations about fishing in Island mode, but I don't really think he actively fishes... lol)

It is a bit funny that Mahiru is trying so hard to photograph food. I don't think she would never photograph food, but I'm a bit worried that the artist who drew this might not have known that she was basically taking pictures of people smiling… Leon's happy face and playing baseball also make me wonder if the artist dared to draw him that way. (His happy face is adorable, though.)

Speaking of which, Ryoma also seems to be playing tennis normally, so maybe that's OK?

I love this picture where Peko is just swinging her shinai (bamboo katana) but the bamboo is cut. If I was asked which of characters I want the most, I would want this one, Hiyoko or Gundham the most.

It is always fun to see new merchandise announcements! 💖

Again, thank you for asking! 🫶🏻🥰

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @realmackross TIME: Evening, September 17th SUMMARY: Mackenzie gives Taylor a little phone call over some social media issues. WARNINGS: None! PREVIOUS THREADS:1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - Current.

“Social media is not a media. The key is to listen, engage, and build relationships.” - David Alston

Taylor. Mackenzie was going to murder her. Not literally, but still. The warning Winter had given Mackenzie right before she left had sat stewing in her brain for a day or so, before she had finally decided to look into things. And low-and-behold, what did she find? Someone had indeed been posting for her. Just another headache to worry about with the slew of other things she had been dealing with.

The phone rang and it rang again, until, "Hey Mack. What's going on? Everything still okay?"

Mackenzie was fuming. But yet, she had still understood why her assistant had done it. Mack had a persona to keep up to the world and not just to Wicked's Rest, which she had sometimes forgotten, especially when things had seemed like they were finally going right for a brief minute or so. But there were delicate things happening with people like Cass, who now thought that Mackenzie didn't want to be her friend. Of course, Taylor didn't know that Mackenzie had fallen over a balcony and went splat in front of a room full of people. But Mack had figured she was doing the already overly stressed woman a favor.

"Hey, so, just curious...Have you been posting stuff on my social media accounts?" Her jaw was clenched as she held back the urge to yell. Mackenzie didn't yell at Taylor. She never really had, except for the night they were cleaning up the Brody incident. But that was out of fear, stress, and so much more.

"What?" Taylor paused knowing that Mackenzie wasn't happy. She had been her assistant for nearly a decade now. A friendship and partnership longer then Mack had known Winter.

"Taylor, don't act dumb. I know you have. Winter told me." Mackenzie knew how much the pair didn't get along, so double checking first had been as much of a service to her assistant as it had been anything else. "Look, I'm not...okay, I'm mad. Those are my private accounts. You have control over the public ones. And I'm fine with that, but I have friends on there who now think I don't like them, and you know how hard it is for me to find genuine friendships with my status." Mackenzie took in a deep breath holding for nearly a minute, before letting it out very slowly, "I know you're just trying to do damage control, and I appreciate that. I do. But those people I can handle, okay? So just, stop. I'll be home in a few days. I'm feeling much better. The public socials look great. And I'm so sorry you've had to get wrapped up in all of this with me again. I'm honestly surprised you've still stuck with me through all of this, and I don't know how I can ever repay you for that. But I'm okay. Alright. Just don't worry about the follow-up to any conversations. I'll handle it when I get home."

Taylor had stayed quiet. She had felt bad, but had also felt somewhat frustrated. All she had done, ever since the zombie fiasco had started, was take care of Mackenzie. Make sure her secret had been kept safe, and that's all she had been trying to do this past week, considering her boss and so-called friend had kept her in the dark more and more since coming to Wicked's Rest. There had almost been a part of her that wanted to say 'fuck it'. Out Mackenzie for what she was and what she had done, but she couldn't. Partly because she would probably go down with the zombie, but also, because they had just been through so much together and Mackenzie had still meant something to her. Whether or not that held true on the other side of the friendship, she wasn't sure anymore. But Taylor reluctantly replied back, "Yeah, got it Boss. Glad to know you're doing okay. Just let me know when you're back, and I'll catch a flight out to see you."

Hearing the click, Mackenzie's eyes dropped. She could tell that Taylor was upset. The defeat in her voice had made the zombie feel even worse than she already was, and she would now be adding Taylor to Apology Tour 2023.

Laying the phone down on the nightstand, she slid down in the bed and pulled one of the pillows over her face. Letting out a loud scream as hard as she could into the fabric pressed tightly to her face, Mackenzie had wanted to disappear. The talk with Alex from the day before going out the window and into the abyss, at least until Mackenzie could find the courage to go back home to Harborside and face the absolute nightmare her life continued to become.

[esotericfaery]

Pluto back in Capricorn - Sept. 1st to Nov. 19th, 2024

While Pluto in Capricorn brings in massive changes regarding ambition in government & other institutions, Pluto in Aquarius is more focused on long-lasting, if eccentric-seeming social change.

Capricorn is grounded and can be more pragmatic within established mainstream narratives. Aquarius brings innovation into large-scale social occurrences, and will for about the next twenty years as Pluto transits there.

First, Pluto goes back into Capricorn from September 1st to November 19th.

(It’s interesting to note that in Draconic Astrology, Pluto has been in Capricorn since August 4th, 2023 and remains there until moving into Aquarius on January 7th, 2025. Draconic is an esoteric form of Astrology which has more focus on karma and other lifetimes. If doing ancestor work or other work with guides, this can be a good time to be focused on proper grounding within your transformative experiences, as Pluto rules transmutation.)

Let’s take a look at the aspects Pluto is forming with other planets during this time period (in Tropical Astrology).

This is an opportunity to transmute long held and stagnant beliefs into real potential. This process is less difficult at this time, as it would be without this transit. Truth vs. Illusion can be integrated in practical, grounded ways. [Sept. 3rd - sextile with Neptune in Pisces]

This constant yet subtle pressure causes longing for passionate desires to be achieved. Be careful to not become too competitive through rushing ahead in too many directions, as this reduces your chance of success. Avoid manipulation & rash actions. Become well informed by focusing on a single goal, to build willpower [Sept. 4th - inconjunct with Mars in Gemini]

Watch out for impulsive thoughts and coercive behaviours. Turn this energy inward for psychological forces which help you gain greater awareness and harmonic control. This is a good transit for occult studies. [Oct. 13th - square with Mercury in Libra]

This is a good time to come to an understanding about how your emotions effect your relationships. Friendships and other loving relationships intensify. Impulses towards confrontation can dig deep so that truth is uncovered. This can involve a powerful “fated” type of feeling in a relationship, which is sometimes an illusion. [Oct. 17th - sextile with Venus in Scorpio]

Powerful pressure surfaces so that old patterns of behaviour are exposed, ready to be let go of. Careful of confrontation with those in authority. [Oct. 22nd - square with the Sun in Libra]

This is a good time for study of deeper knowledge into something, as you feel deeply curious, and ask a lot of questions. If you can avoid becoming stubborn and overly concerned with being correct, you can learn something deep and valuable, and teach others valuable truths. [Nov. 2nd - sextile with Mercury in Scorpio]

Those sensitive to this transit experience ruthless power struggles, or at least someone who wants to engage in such. Secure your position by finding the aid of as many people as possible. Being alone can bring out major difficulties with this transit. Avoid any urges to try and control others or to suppress this energy, lest you find yourself alone. These high energies allow you to make conscious creative positive changes. [Nov. 3rd - opposition with Mars in Cancer]

[itsreaditandwow2]

My Thoughts On... #42 - Curious George 🐵

A whole lot of you are familiar with Curious George, who is an inquisitive and mischievous young ape who started out from a children's book series written by H.A. Rey, then had a stop-motion series in the '80s, then had a feature film in 2006, as well as a TV series on PBS Kids. Well, I'd like to share my thoughts on the TV series. Now, Curious George premiered on PBS Kids on September 4th, 2006, and originally ended its run on April 1st, 2015 until it was renewed for a 10th season which premiered on the streaming site Peacock on September 8th, 2018 and then last premiered its 15th season on March 17th, 2022. Here lies the issue. It's been said on multiple websites that Curious George would return for a 16th season and it would premiere in August of 2023. However, by that time, there was no sign of a 16th season. And the confusing part is, while some websites state that the series is still ongoing, other sites, including iMDb and Wikipedia, state that the series has in fact ended. Plus there haven't been any recent updates regarding the supposed 16th season of Curious George. It's like they want to act as if a 16th season was never going to happen in the first place. If that's truly the case, then why would they say on several websites that Curious George would return for a 16th season, as well as say they'd premiere it in August of the previous year if it wasn't true? I would assume that there were some kids who are fans of Curious George possibly excited to see a new season of the show only to find out that they've been scammed by heartless sickos on the Internet. Doesn't that make your blood boil big time? Who would've thought that when A-holes lie online, they effing lie online? Well, those are my thoughts on Curious George and how we were supposed to get a season 16, but got screwed over instead. I hope you enjoy this post, and be sure to favorite, re-blog, and/or reply. Only if you're interested, that is.

[rocketship-on-my-way-to-mars]

Hello tumblr. I think I'll start using this as a place to collect my disparate and oft-depressing thoughts. For any future anthropologist who comes across this blog, I am deeply sorry for the inane rambling that shall ensue.

With the preface complete, I shall begin to detail the manifold odds and ends that call my head home. I've been seeing this young woman for a couple weeks now. Since September of 2023 to be precise. Writing now, in November of 2023, I wish to construct a brief timeline of our courtship. We started talking in early September, having met through an application designed to connect people. In mid-September(the 17th), she expressed to me that she was, in fact, going through it and was unable to dedicate time and energy to a connection. I, in the throes of such a malaise at the time of writing, deeply understand the necessity of one to focus on oneself first before trying to build new connections.

A bridge cannot be built with just one bank.

Respecting her wishes, I endeavored to convey that sympathy as much as I could, and thus ended our until-then lively conversations. In the period during which we had suspended our interlocution, I found myself longing for her ear, though I then could not say whether it was rooted in a desire for any companionship or it was from a specific connection with her. Approximately a week-and-a-half thence, I messaged her again, making a lighthearted reference to something that had happened to her whilst we were speaking initially. I must now admit my shame in this respect. For my heart longed so badly for companionship at that time, I resorted to fabricating the reference that became my ostensible reason for speaking to her anon.

Upon the grounds of this falsification, we started talking regularly again, and I recognize that I found myself falling for my interlocutor. An important context for this particular fact is that I, in past, have fallen most gracelessly for persons who show even the slightest morsel of affection, and it seemed likely that precisely such a lapsus was destined to repeat.

Despite the shaky reason to speak again, she expressed that she was in a much better place and was glad that I had reached out, as she thought she could dedicate again her bandwidth to the pursuit of what may be. With our conversations rejuvenated, we carried through the "talking stage" quickly, beginning to see each other in person on October 2nd, whenst we met first at a nearby café so we could speak over coffee. I had a caffé mocha and she had a seasonal lavender latte. I recall distinctly she wore a long skirt, a denim jacket, and a cute brown top. We hit it off, and stayed there for hours before I had to recuse myself and go thence to work.

I shan't now go into excessive detail regarding what has transpired between then and now, for I think this chapter has reached a fine stopping point. The lengthy context which has predecessed this present stave gives little useful information apropos the gripes which this entire bloody soliloquy was for.

What ultimately I wish to express is a frustration with the fairer's communication. I, a creature of deep emotional necessity - which I have expressed in past, am oft left hours without reply, from the middle of what had until then been a rapid back-and-forth. For some curious reason though, these lapses occur most frequently immediately following my making of such bold statements as expressing longing and such. The frequency of such lapses immediately following those statements which expose myself most emotionally has wrought a bottomless hole in my heart which I find most distracting. There is aplenty more which I could, and will say on the topic, but I have exhausted my inkwell for this session.

The final section I wish to make today is a preemption of those arguments which I anticipate - namely a charge that I have no reason to have such deep emotional attachment to the other person given the time spent together. Yes, I recognize that the depth of my feeling and investment is disproportionate to the duration of our relationship, but as I attempted to express earlier, I am prone to falling quite quickly for a person at even the slimmest kindness shown. I am one who desires greatly emotional intimacy, and I throw myself whole-heartedly into opportunities for such, often with reckless abandon. The need I feel for such a connection is impossible to sum, but it is weighed against my heart every day. I know it is unwise and premature to place such great value on what may be as opposed to what is or what has been, but unfortunately I am simply predisposed to this most pitiful and wretched state of longing and necessity.

[funtimespringscare101]

EX1LE.CHR Part 3

Date: September 17th 2010

WHAT’S UP MY DUDES? Your girl Maya here with an update on this Sonic ROM Hack my buddy Keith has been talking about the last couple days.

Ok, at first, I was curious to find out more about this “entity” that Sega definitely was trying to find, I went to Keith’s after a phone call from him and he explained how there was a weird character in the game that appeared, named Xenatia and how she was able to know he was there, talking to him. I was… skeptical at first, I said “Dude, you look like you haven’t slept in a while, maybe you are hallucinating” or something like that. To prove it to me, he fired up the ROM Hack and to be honest, even I felt a little uneasy, the title screen had changed, Sonic wasn’t the only one in the ring anymore… Tails was there too, along with a shadow with purple outlines lurking in the back. it looked like Sonic.

Keith was like “See?” and I started to believe him, we pressed the key to start and we get a cutscene with Sonic and Tails in his workshop. “So she just appeared in the middle of a dead body pile, not knowing where she was?” “Yeah, Sonic. It was really bizarre, and the fact I mentioned that she looks a lot like you is just making me nervous.” “Let me meet the little stinker then, you said she was a fan, right, well, She can meet everyone’s favorite hero!” Sonic struck a pose, I chuckled.

They went to a room upstairs and there she was. Xenatia. Keith was right. She was very excited to meet Sonic. “Oh my god, Sonic! I’m such a big fan!” “So I heard from Tails. He told what happened, and I’m here to find out how you ended up in those Flaming Hills.” “Oh… I don’t really know, I was… doing nothing really important, then I ended up there, and I don’t know what to do.” Weird, “Nothing Important”? That’s a bit…suspicious. For me and Keith, anyway. “Don’t Worry,” Sonic replied, “Tails and me will absolutely help you get home!” Xena seemed happy and smiles.

As Sonic left the bedroom, Xena suddenly looks towards…the screen? Text appeared on screen, “Oh. Looks like you got help after all, Keith…” I literally gasped you guys! The text continued,“Hello There. What’s your name, Stranger?” With this, a text box appeared where Keith typed in MAYA. Xena seemed to turn towards us and smile, greeting me. This is…This is… amazing, whatever Xena is, this entity she supposed to be, changes everything about this ROM Hack. “I can’t wait to get to know you better, Maya,” the text continued, “but for now, lets just get back to this world. Shall we?” Xena turned back to the normal sprite angle and Keith controlled her and lead her to the stairs where we could see Tails and Sonic chatting.

“I don’t know what to do here, Sonic. What if she’s actually a threat? I could make a counter weapon or something-”

“Tails! Chill! She looks harmless! Come on, how dangerous can a mobian like her be?”

Tails looked at Sonic for a moment before sighing, “You’re probably right… But I’m still on edge about her. I don’t know why…”

Xena looked at us, “I think we’re going to get a little bit of trouble here, guys. And I don't even know how I ended up here... Look, I need your help. I promise I will explain everything in due time, but right now, we need to find a way to show them i'm not a threat."

Keith and I glanced at each other, this is going to be a very interesting experience...

Signed

Maya Robinson

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

In the void between dimensions, sat a small civilization of Void born beings born from anti matter. They all take their form or vessel inspired by the Sonic the Hedgehog video game franchise made by human mortals in countless dimensions and universes. In the centre of this town sat the Castle of King Xillian and Queen Zeplis, where the king was sitting in the throne room in a particularly bad mood, then one of the counsellors came in, "Your Majesty, I have come with news."

"Well then. What is it?" Xillian asked in a mighty tone.

"Word is that the Princess has been sighted entering a portal to the Earth Dimension, She might not be gone like we thought, sir."

"Very Well... I will look into it, thank you," Xillian thanked the counsellor and called his son, Zelydious, into the room. "It seems that that brat survived our little sabotage of her experiment. Find her. and be sure to finish the job. It's almost time for our war against all EXEs"

[words-after-midnight]

For STS: do you know your OCs' astrological signs? If so, how well do they fit the characters' personalities?

Thanks anon and sorry for the delay!! I'll do the main gang from Life in Black and White because they're mostly the ones I know full birthdays for.

ETA: putting this under a cut bc it got long as hell, lol.

Gabriel (protagonist) - DOB: August 4th, 1983 - Leo

Some key traits, according to the Internet: Confident, comfortable being the center of attention, drama-adoring, ambitious, loyal, fiercely protective, generous, luxury-loving, sunny, big-hearted, can be self-centered.

Verdict: Not a very good fit. 🤣 He can be ambitious, but has very fluctuating - and often fleeting - motivation for most things. He's very loyal and protective if he's attached to you (those folks are a special few, and I'd say "fiercely protective" has only ever applied to him wrt one person). Can be generous, can be self-centered. I'd say the other traits don't apply AT ALL.

Jeff (antagonist) - DOB: February 19th, 1983 - Pisces

Some key traits, according to the Internet: Compassionate, creative/artistic, deeply emotional, especially empathic, perceptive, and often inclined to throw themselves into caring for others at all costs.

Verdict: LMFAO NO. This could literally not be further from his personality. He's actually the polar opposite of some of these. "Especially empathetic?" "Deeply emotional?" The... this man has never met empathy (saying that neutrally, not in a derogatory or negative way) and has the emotional capacity of a fucking toothpick. It's actually a whole thing. It gets him into a lot of trouble. Frequently. I'll definitely give him "creative," but more in an imaginative/thinking outside the box way than an artistic way. Caring? No. He's often inconsiderate of others - not always purposefully, and he can be pretty good at making you think he's being considerate, but 100% if he's doing that it's a performance and there's an agenda. I'd say he's perceptive for sure. He can pick up on emotional cues from other people pretty easily.

Jenna (confidant) - DOB: May 30th, 1981 - Gemini

Some key traits, according to the Internet: Flexible, extroverted, playful, intellectual, curious, fun to be around, clever, can be impulsive and nosy.

Verdict: Overall solid fit! These mostly fit with her personality. She's a very social person, a good conversationalist, and is typically well-liked in her circles. The only one I'd say doesn't fit her so much is "intellectual" - not because she isn't smart, she's very clever and picks up on things quickly. She's just more of a hands-on learner than "book smart," per se, and prefers work and hobbies that involve more direct engagement. She can definitely be nosy, and impulsivity is a big issue for her.

Daphne (major supporting character) - DOB: September 17th, 1980 - Virgo

Some key traits, according to the Internet: Perfectionist, logical/pragmatic, practical, loyal, good friend and partner, can have a one-track mind.

Verdict: Actually a pretty good fit. She has a temper and can react emotionally depending on the situation, but as far as her general approach to life, she's definitely more on the pragmatic/practical side. She has by far the best head on her shoulders and the best problem-solving skills in this group. She's a good person to have on your side in a crisis. Really devoted friend and kind person, but not someone who will bullshit you or tell you what you want to hear. Perfectionist is also accurate - as a child, she was a top student, and she was in competitive dance for many years. As a young adult, self-improvement and actualization are important to her.

Thanks again for the ask, this was fun! Also, if any of my followers/anyone who sees this want(s) to reblog this and share how Zodiac signs relate to their OCs' personalities, I'm super curious. 👀

[blueskyscribe]

I'm sooo excited to finally be watching Earthspark! Rando observations ahead and SPOILERS for Episode 1 and Episode 2!

(Also, please don't give me spoilers for future episodes! Thank you! <3 )

My rando thoughts / observations:

It's funny how Dot is like "Nah Optimus, I'm not interested in G.H.O.S.T." and then when Megatron brings it up five seconds later she's like "Oh, YOU'RE in G.H.O.S.T., bestie? Let's goooo! :)"

Also funny how Megatron was like "Dot please don't be mean to Optimus, I love him now."

ALSO extremely funny how Megatron framed it as "Sure, Optimus and I have had our disagreements--". YOU FOUGHT A WAR. ON OPPOSITE SIDES. omg no wonder Soundwave is pissed, I can't wait for him to show up, I can't waaaaait--

Speaking of the war, I'm so curious about what caused it. Was it based in social inequity, like IDW? Did the Decepticons predate Megatron (which was the case in G1 when he was just the latest in a long line of 'Con leaders)? Maybe it will go back to the "some bots built for war, some built for the service industry" thing from G1? Megatron doesn't seem megalomaniacal, I have to believe that he had some idealistic motivation, not just "I wanna rule the universe."

I'm so happy Hardtop didn't die, I really expected him to be killed immediately (since I knew from the trailer that Mandroid harvests his arm. I hope Swindle rescues his bro.

Speaking of which, it looked like Hardtop pushed Swindle out of the way when the thing(?) was falling, thus saving him from being captured. Awww!

Initially I thought that Mandroid had turned the brainwashed Decepticons into those little arachnomechs, but on watching again I realized I was just confused by the Insecticons also having bug modes.

The license plate on the mini-van is BB5STING. Speaking of Bumblebee, it was cute how the dad started hyping up Bee in his description of the war, due to Bumblebee being his favorite.

^ This is fucking hilarious

He's just a little meow meow, he's just a little guy

Speaking of actual little guys, Twitch and Thrash are essentially mini-bots, they're so cute

Okay, this is actually Mandroid disguising himself as a G.H.O.S.T. driver but holy shit what an evil-looking uniform.

Above, a 2D animated segment from when Alex Malto tells his kids about the Transformers War. Below, a screencap from the 1984 opening theme song of G1 Transformers. This makes my collector brain go hee hee hee!

Even though the style is similar to G1, it's not the exact same continuity--as Elita One arrives on Earth, Grimlock is implied not to be 'born' on Earth, and of course the thing with Optimus destroying the space bridge, stranding a bunch of 'Bots and 'Cons on Earth permanently.

Love this in-universe comic with Soundwave and Ravage . . . and in big letters "BOOMBOX?"

Alex Malto says the Transformers arrived on Earth on September 17th, 1984 . . . which is the date the G1 Transformers cartoon first aired! :)

Twitch and Thrash are adorable, I especially liked Twitch "naming" birds.

The scientific name for regular Cybertronians is Cybertronian cybertroni, but Twitch and Thrash are "organic-energonic" beings and Mandroid dubs them Cybertronian terran.

[talkingharrystyles]

Just a few examples of the times he was papped around his neighborhood or literally right on his front doorstep!! If he had a restraining order against paps that would not have happened!! He clearly called them on most, of not all those instances! If he didn’t wanted them out there they would not have been published! I have been many times around London and Hampstead and paps don’t just hang around to take pics of celebs! Especially not to take pics of them doing mundane things!

London 2019

March 14th (Hampstead)

https://images.app.goo.gl/JfHZXxMEabWDbpcr5

April 5th

https://images.app.goo.gl/bQLsusCQFkrdE3kx6

June 5th

https://images.app.goo.gl/XYhsnSksXinHS2Qs8 (again, literally only metres away from his house!)

July 4th

https://images.app.goo.gl/yXxMnkWAhcfCyXcKA (The most obvious one as you can clearly even see his house /front gate in them in the back!!! Like, papped right at his front gate!! This was in July 2019 and yet he’s been papped many times afterwards right by his house!!)

July 28th (Hampstead)

https://images.app.goo.gl/sRGZWyixeQarnXzc7

August 23th

https://images.app.goo.gl/fLRmX4fveSS8y2mm9

https://images.app.goo.gl/6mzoaa7B2ZtHsNtr9

(AGAIN, only metres away from his front door! You can see the bus stop in the back that is literally right in front of his door!)

September 12th

https://images.app.goo.gl/mLifYLs7oPf4uWqZA (this one was literally like 20 metres max next to his house!)

September 28th

https://images.app.goo.gl/KDyHkWuCg7T1xeiMA

November 4th

https://images.app.goo.gl/Tm4YmPtVJ9XdeeEX7

2020 (Close to his house)

February 17th

https://images.app.goo.gl/NnTKeBk3Mw6YkGEF9

June 13th

https://images.app.goo.gl/NnZaKiLP8ThMZaEG7

June 29th (Hampstead)

https://images.app.goo.gl/nvCee85wGji9qFNNA

Funnily enough, he was NOT ONCE!! papped „randomly“ in 2021 in London (outside of work, like MP filming for example!) instead we got douzens of staged „Holivia“ walks, mostly pics taken from the back or other „fan pics“ and of course Cockburns many pap walks, where she did literally NOTHING, which compared to literal NONE Harry pap pics are even more hilarious and obvious! When a A-list star like Harry not ONCE got papped randomly in London during a whole ass year but girly did get papped like 15 times in one month, in some random part of London,… I mean… it’s OBVIOUS isn’t it?!

I‘m curious to know why he started getting papped „randomly“ in London this year again?

I love you!!!!

These last few days Olivia has come under a lot of fire! So in my opinion (and many other blogs on here I talk to) said that these solo photos could be distancing Harry from Olivia. It’s like he wants to be seen alone

[godinvent]

My OC Stella Busana’s profile! Backstory will be in another post!

TW // mentions of death, knives, scars, kidnapping, stabbing/slicing

Full Name: Stella Erebus Busana

Name in Original Language: Στέλλα Eρεβος Μποσάνα, Stélla Érebos Bosána

Nicknames: Stelly, Auntie (by Roxy, her nephew), Star, Batman (by my friend Mythos)

Name Meaning:

Stella: means “star” in Latin

Erebus: means “darkness” in Greek, is the name of Stella’s father (a lot of ancient Greeks took the name of their father as part of their own name)

Busana: means “night girl of the moon” in Israeli (I just liked the name she’s not Israeli at all)

Sex: Female

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her/Hers

Sexuality: Bisexual

Mental/Physical Disorders: ADHD, Anxiety and Autism. She also has anger issues.

Birthday: September 4th

Age: 14 (start of story ), 25 (end of story)

Zodiac: Virgo Sun, Cancer Moon, Gemini Rising, Taurus Venus

Species: Winged Goddess (she only sprouts her wings when she’s 16)

Mythology: Greek ����🇷

Race: White

Ethnicity: Greek 🇬🇷

Nationality: Greek (specifically, a citizen of Tartarus) 🇬🇷

Title: Protector of the night and darkness

Magic: Dark magic, charm magic

Weapon: Knife (she has a huge collection of them)

Fighting Stats

Physical Attack: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

Physical Defense: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

Health: ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

Speed: ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

Magic Attack: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

Magic Defense: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

Range: ⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️⚪️

Other Stats

Intelligence: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️

Charisma: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚪️⚪️

Dexterity: ⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️⚫️

Animal Form: Black wolf

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　Appearance　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Height: 5 feet 6 inches (168 cm) (start of story), 5 feet 8 inches (173 cm) (end of story)

Weight: 223 pounds (101 kg) (start of story). She is plus sized throughout the entire story!

Skin tone: Pale white. She sunburns very easily!

Hair style and color: Long, voluminous dark blue hair, with yellow dots resembling stars in a night sky

Eye color: Yellow

Glasses or contacts?: None

Body modifications?: Has pierced ears. She would probably get a tattoo later in life, although it wouldn’t be that big.

Scars?: Large, star shaped scar between her eyebrows and eyes. She got this scar when her parents were kidnapped, and her assailant sliced her forehead. When she’s 17, she receives large burn scars on her left arm from saving a family from a fire. Obtains small scars on body from fighting.

Fashion: Dark academia, alternative, elegant dark wear. She wears jasmine scented perfume, and wears a golden locket around her neck, which has small pictures of her parents inside. For her 17th birthday, she gets a golden cross necklace from Solaris Kitrinos, which is blessed with light magic and can protect against beings such as gorgons.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　Personality　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Likes

•anime

•manga

•watching movies

•mythology and cultures

•pop, rock, alternative, and music in general

•video games

•muscles

•animals (especially cats and dogs)

•tonkotsu ramen

•chocolate chip cookies

•hot chocolate

•coffee, especially mochas!

•fried chicken

•pasta

•pita bread

•singing

•writing songs

•chocolate

•sightseeing

•fanfic and other works she shouldn’t be allowed to watch-

•art, and almost every form of art

•going to museums and arcades

•history

•perfume

•fashion

•interior design

•the color pink (but she won’t admit it because aesthetic reasons, she’s goth-)

•giving people gifts, helping people

Dislikes

•spoiled brats

•lazy people

•injustice

•sweet potatoes

•bananas

•the cold

•lightning

•crowds

•working in groups

•small talk, especially with adults

•burdening others

•people who mess with her family and friends

•those who prey on the weak

•people who underestimate her

•most fruits and vegetables

•lasagna

•nuts

•death (it’s her greatest fear)

Good Traits

honest, humorous, imaginative, independent, individualistic, intelligent, compassionate, laid-back, loyal, open-minded, passionate, creative, confident, mature, affectionate, nerdy, unique, curious, generous, responsible, dexterous, a quick learner, adventurous

Bad Traits

quick to anger , awkward, dirty minded, stubborn, can be very aloof and apathetic if she wants to be, indecisive, forgetful, lazy, impatient, insecure, violent, smug, judgmental, nervous, condescending, unpredictable

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　Relationships　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Mother: Nyx, goddess of the night

Father: Erebus, god of darkness

Sibling(s): Aether, Hemera, Moros, Apate, Dolos, Nemesis, the Keres, the Moirai, the Hesperides, Oizys, Momus, the Oneiroi, Hypnos, Thanatos, Philotes, Geras, Eris and Charon. Roxy, Hypnos’ adopted child, is technically her nephew, but she and Roxy treat each other like sisters. Thelma Milas, the daughter of Eris, is another nephew of hers she treats like a sister, but they practically hate each other.

Crush/lover(s): She also has crushes on Siko Kikelomo and Omorfia Triantafyllo, as well as Kanagawa Arashino. Her biggest crush, and her longest lasting relationship however is Solaris Kitrinos. She develops a crush on him when she’s 17, and that’s the same age they started dating. They date for at least 3 years before they get married in their 20s.

Child(ren): Has at least one child, a son, with Solaris Kitrinos when they’re adults. His name is Luka!

Enemy(s): Elizabeth Vermillianos, Briar Moses Silver, Shardul, Lucifer and his lab, the other villains, and is at first rivals with Solaris Kitrinos. (Somewhat) friendly rivalry with Siko Kikelomo. Unfriendly rivalry with Nikita Borisova.

Friend(s): Best friends with Thana Mikka, Aiden Agnimukha, Agua Ambu, Solaris Kitrinos and Omorfia Triantafyllo. Very close friends with Malakai Hermalao, Arian Zaman, Red Asmodeus and Yukio Ueno. Friends with Triton Zale, Mila Wisteria, Robyn Bonnibelle, Alexander Kardia, Alphonso Jelani, and Issun Boshi as well. Stella also heavily looks up to and respects her teacher Martin Ambrosius. Her demon spirit servant, Azazel, is more like a father figure to her than a servant, and she loves him like family.

Pet(s): Owns a large Newfoundland hellhound named Orpheus, who she calls “Orphie”. She uses Orpheus’s magical drool to make potions, and likes to lay on him while watching tv.

[sharperthewriter]

Chapter 1 of the 16th Kim Possible Fannies Awards - Ceremony

From the desks of Sharper, BCBDrums and Gothicthundra.

(AN: Due to a change in scheduling with the upcoming football season coming up for me in August (I usually do the football stats for my local high school and juco teams here, in case if anyone new in the Kimmunity is curious) , I've decided that it would be best for me to upload the remaining chapters of the Prelude to the 16KPFA on the other story and upload the highlights of the Ceremony as a separate story to A) make the uploading go a lot faster, B) take a lot of pressure off of me of uploading chapters on a weekly basis because of the stress of doing football stats and C) allow me more time to do my own KP stories. -Sharper)

The story is still going to be rated T due to some strong language, some cartoon action violence, some suggestive comments, and brief use of alcohol.

Kim Possible, characters and settings, are created by Schooley and McCorkle and (c) by Disney. Any OC I create is my own. Any OC that I do not create is created by the owner of that OC.

So with that being said, here is the second half of the 16th KP Fannies: The Ceremony!

Chapter 1 - A (Socially-Distanced) Introduction

(7:04pm, March 11, 2021)

Ron's words echoed through the Colorado countryside.

Two weeks...two weeks...two weeks.

(Six Months Later, September 22, 2021, 4:19pm)

The world looks indeed different for the Possible-Stoppables than the one they left behind in early March. Automatic hand sanitizer dispensers, plastic barriers, social distancing markers, and sanitation crews were a common sight throughout Middleton. Quarantines and self-isolations if tested positive for the TEVID virus were also common as well. Furthermore, there was a mask mandate that had been in place since March. A vaccine for the TEVID virus was close to being developed.

Meanwhile, the Kimmunity Council were still holding meetings on where the 16th KP Fannies Awards were to be held since the Colorado governor has officially reopened theaters, opera houses and other places of entertainment, albeit only at 25% capacity. Due to the pandemic, all of the Council's meetings had to be held online.

Sharper was in the main media room titled "Council Rock" at Bonnie's opulent and extremely expensive mansion. He was talking with BCB, Split-n-splice, Eoraptor, Tennente, Whitem, CajunBear, Daccu, and MrDrP via video-conferencing.

"So what do you think we should do for the 16th Fannies if they are to remain on-schedule?" Whitem asked.

"Hold them at the North Memorial Theater?" came Daccu's reply.

"Yeah, I think we should do that." Sharper said, "But we need to limit the audience for this year's ceremony to just nominees, presenters, and members of the press. Twenty-five percent should be around 400 people."

Raptor agreed with Sharper.

"I think that would satisfy the governor's requirements for the seating capacity." he said.

"Plus, there should be testing for the audience for the virus as well." BCB added.

"Yes." agreed Sharper on the decision.

He then also laid out the other health protocols that will be in effect for the ceremony.

"We should also close off every other row as well, as well as adding those automatic hand sanitizers as well. Masks are going to be mandatory as well. The only time during the ceremony that we should take masks off is when we are speaking at the podiums, which will be 12 feet apart from each other."

"Are we all in agreement on these measures to protect ourselves against the virus?"

The other members of the Council agreed to these decision and decided, unanimously, that the date of the ceremony will be October 16 and the date of the 17th KP Fannies ceremony will be on June 7 of the next year in conjunction with the KP show's 20th anniversary.

The former day was also when the TEVID vaccine was to be released, first to the medical and those that were classified as essential workers.

(GJ Headquarters, October 13, 2021: three days before the ceremony, 9:06am)

Kim was working at her desk in her office. She, alongside with the rest of the Global Justice crew, had to wear masks that covered their mouth and nose, for they were still under the mask mandate of the state of Colorado.

She was wearing a black pantsuit with her GJ identification badge. She was combing through surveillance videos and photos.

Ron was outside her office. He had a professional-looking polo shirt and plaid khaki pants. Like his wife, he too had his GJ ID badge as well (though he had accidentally forgotten it on a couple of occasions). He also had a face mask as well as does Rufus.

"I'm trying to figure out these thefts!" Kim grunted, sifting through the paperwork "And it vexes me so!"

Ron tapped on the side of the steel door.

"May I come in, Agent K-P-S?" Ron grinned.

"Permission granted, Agent R-P-S!" Kim said, chuckling a little.

The steel doors to Kim's office whoosed opened as Ron came in.

"I totally like the doors that go whoosh." Ron said, "Remind me to get those doors for my office!"

"Can't." Kim smirked, "It's not in the budget!"

"Aww man!" Ron complained.

Then he got back to the task at hand.

"So how many thefts have we got going on?" he asked.

"It's been four jewel heists in June and July." Kim replied, pointing to the photos. "First, Starlet's jewelry collection worth $1.5 million was stolen in the dead of night. Then, the Holsten Twins were robbed of $4 million in jewels and diamonds. Next was MC Honey, who had $8 million in her jewels nabbed as well. And lastly, Britina, who had $14 million stolen of her jewelry as well."

"Wow! What are the connections to it?" Ron asked.

"Well, all involved celebrities and all involved multi-million dollar thefts." Kim explained as she shuffled through the surveillance photos. "And based of security camera footage, we do know that two thieves are involved. One man and one woman." She pointed to the figures of a man and woman, obviously covered in black.

"Man...they do move fast!"

"But as we move on into September..." Kim said, pointing to more surveillance photos, "...the thefts got bigger. Two in particular were of interest."

She continued on the details.

"About $31 million of jewels and expensive watches were stolen from a New York hotel three weeks ago for a promotional event on September 4th! And not more than two weeks later, on the 19th, $70 million in jewels and artwork were stolen from the daughter to an multi-multi-billionaire electric car company CEO. And those two robberies involved a team of at least 6-8 people, but two of the thieves have the same height and build from the celeb thefts."

"And from that electric car company CEO mansion's crime scene, they left behind these playing cards with letters on the back of them in permanent marker, but I can't figure it out."

Kim had 16 playing cards on them and the letters were written as follows CAWLRORKLEL and the numbers 126110.

"What could it mean?" she asked, being puzzled about it. Rufus jumped onto the table.

"I'm in the same position as you are, KPS." Ron said.

"Let's think about it first, Ron. They all involved high-profile events and people, they all target jewelry, sometime paintings, and the thefts keep on getting bigger and bigger." Kim said.

"Which means their next target would have to involve something big, something grander." Ron said.

Rufus tapped his paw against his face and figured it out. He arranged the letters and the numbers.

"But who would be wealthy enough to be such a target?" Kim questioned, tapping her head with her fingers.

Both Kim and Ron then heard Rufus chittering loudly.

"Rufus? What is it, buddy?"

Rufus chittered and repeatedly pointed with his paw on what he did with the playing cards.

Kim and Ron took one look and gasped.

"That's it! That is their next target!"

It said, ROCKWALLER 101621.

"It makes sense!" Kim exclaimed "She has the largest collection of jewelry known to mankind...The Rockwaller Family Jewels."

"We have to warn her!" Ron shouted.

(4 days earlier, October 9, 2021)

"Sharper, we got a big sitch here!"

BCB came running down one of the main hallways of Bonnie's mansion, which has now expanded to 300 bedrooms and 525 bathrooms with the completion of a recent addition.

She knocked on the door of Sharper's office.

"Come in!" came Sharper's reply.

BCB came running as fast as she could to his desk.

"Hey...BCB! Slow down!" Sharper insisted. "What's wrong!"

"The Timothy North Theater...was overwhelmed with a swarm of roaches and rats!" BCB exclaimed. She showed Sharper the pictures of the rats chewing on the seats of the chairs.

"Oh no! We're gonna have to get an exterminator...no, several exterminators...to get rid of these pests!" Sharper shuddered at the sight of the animals. "What about the Golden Rufuses?"

"They are safe in a truck in Denver and await your signal." BCB informed him.

"Since the North Theater has been infested with rats, I think we should move the 16th Fannies to the Rockwaller Opera House." Sharper said, "The date of the 16th will remain the same. I'm gonna have to probably send out a mass email, informing members of the Kimmunity about the change in venue."

(back to Oct. 13, 2021, 6:12pm)

"So what you're saying is that my family heirlooms are in danger of being stolen?" Bonnie asked.

She, Kim, Ron (and Rufus), Betty Director, Sharper and BCB were at Bonnie's main opulent mansion. Bonnie, of course, was not the same mean Bonnie as before after the three spirits of Christmas visited her last year.

"That's correct, Miss Rockwaller." Betty replied, "There were a couple of recent high-profile robberies with valuable stolen worth in the millions. We fear that your collection may be the next target."

"Well, my collection of Rockwaller valuables, including some really expensive Faberge eggs, are worth around $400 million." Bonnie said as she adjusted her engagement ring from Senor Senior Junior since they were engaged in January, prior to the pandemic. "And my uncles would really have a hissy-fit if any of the valuables ended up missing from Rockwaller property. Though it is protected by layers of security from the last time."

"Probably the reason why you would need the extra security with GJ, My Queen." Sharper said.

"And with the North Theater somehow being infested with vermin, the scene's gonna shift to your opera house." BCB added.

Bonnie agreed. "Yeah, Drums..."

"Uhh, Bonnie, please call me BCB." BCB corrected her.

"Right...right...BCB. Yeah, I gotta obey the guv's protocols of social distancing and health sanitizers and all that stuff." Bonnie said.

"Sharper, do you think these two events with the planned robbery and the infesting of the North Theater with animals are connected?" Kim asked Sharper.

"I don't know if it is...but if something weird does happen in the ceremony, we'll find out." Sharper said to Kim.

Bonnie replied with confidence, "Don't worry, Kim. Even with this pandemic, we're going to have a normal ceremony with nothing weird happening!"

"I sure do hope so, Bonnie." Kim said. _

(October 10, 2021, 1:55pm)

A brown sedan approached a nearby abandoned warehouse in downtown Middleton. The driver of the sedan scanned his ID badge in as the garage to the warehouse opened, giving him access. The sedan rolled in slowly before coming to a complete stop.

The two occupants got out of the sedan, one male and one female. The male thief was named Cody. He, in his mid 30s and with dark black hair and green eyes, had been an accomplice to several of the high-profile robberies of celebrities, including that of Starlet and MCHoney and has been wanted in four states. He was also an expert in creating tranquilizers to sedate any security guards and was also an expert in evidence cleanup.

The female thief, Amy, was considered to be the mastermind of the mentioned celeb thefts. She too was in her mid 30s, and had blonde hair and blue eyes and was wanted in seven states for the robberies.

They were part of a five-member team that often love to steal from houses of the wealthy and famous from around the globe. They were considered masters of disguise and often baffled police, which was the reason why the authorities contacted Global Justice for help. It was also because that they had help from HenchCo with a few henchmen serving as extra muscle to complement the group.

The other three members were a male and two females: Troy, Laura, and Emily. Troy handled the security detail, Laura and Emily were the most capable fighters of the group, for both had fifth-degree black belts. They were also all in their mid-30s. Troy also normally served as the getaway driver/pilot for the group.

Cody and Amy also got some Bueno Nacho to go as well. The Bueno Nacho #582 in Middleton had re-adjusted its dining room so that it roped off selected booths to maintain social distancing. It also annoyed Ron as well because their normal booth was roped off.

"What took you two so long?" Troy muttered.

"Don't blame me for their 6-feet social distancing bullshit." Cody replied while setting the food down.

"Did you also get extra Diablo sauce for my Naco?" Laura asked.

"Got some in the bag!" Cody added, pointing to the familiar packets.

"Let's set up the food first before we begin our biggest operation yet." Amy spoke, "Operation Mt. Rockwaller!"

The four other thieves agreed.

(30 minutes later)

While they were eating, Amy brought up the first instance of the planned Rockwaller theft.

"I think what we should do is to go in around 9pm, right when the 16th KP Fannies Ceremony is at the half-way point of the ceremony." she suggested, "We will go in four unmarked vans onto that access road that usually supplies her vendors and food to her servants, butlers, and maids. Three of the vans should contain the henchmen while the fourth will contain the four of us. Cody will be on the inside posing as a member of the press. Troy's MIT degree will serve us well in knocking out all the security cams at the Rockwaller mansion."

"So the next order of business is going to be that gate that leads directly into the mansion." Cody then said. "That area has two layers of automatic spike strips against any unauthorized vehicle and her mansion, I bet to you, is going to crawl with her personal security force."

"Right! We're going to knock out the security guards with this!" Amy said while she held up the standard-issue HenchCo knockout gas canister and HenchCo tranquilizer darts. "As for those spikes, Troy again will disable them."

"That is all well and good, but we will need a distraction." Emily suggested.

"Yeah, Global Justice will be on our asses even if we do steal the diamonds!" Laura added while chewing through her Naco.

"That is the reason why the Boss Lady who hired us for the job planned ahead!" Amy chuckled, mentioning her very rich benefactor, but not by name. "She has had this person broken out of jail not more than a week ago!"

Amy tossed a recent copy of the Middleton Examiner and saw that Glame Dover (aka Game Controller) had escaped from jail after a robbery a couple months ago that involved the stealing of the Z-Boy III technology from Japan that was, thankfully, foiled by GJ.

"The Boss Lady's army of superhackers blocked information of the escape from getting it out to local police departments and criminal agencies, including Global Justice." Amy explained while typing on her laptop, explaining their plan, "Like Cody, he will be posing as a member of the press. With the help of the Boss Lady, he had helped developed a new video game arcade machine that will be placed in the gaming arcade that is right next to the opera house. So that when they go into the lobby area for intermission, some of the nominees may try to play the game. But what they don't know is that it is a mind-controlling device! Once they play it, they will become mindless putty controlled by Game Controller! That will buy us some time in order for us to escape with as many of the Rockwaller diamonds as we can possibly hold...including the rarest one of all!"

She swiveled her laptop to a pink diamond.

"The Pink R! Worth around $18 million!" Amy exclaimed.

"Double that if we get it on the black market!" Cody added.

"Global Justice won't know what'll hit them!" Laura cackled.

"And we will become extremely rich!" Amy laughed evily.

The other thieves joined in on the evil laughter and continued plotting along.

(October 16, 2021, 6:59pm)

And so, the night of the ceremony of the 16th Annual Kim Possible Awards finally came. Unlike in years past, there was no red carpet ceremony. Furthermore, every other section of seats in the opera house was roped off and the 300 spectators (some select members of the Kimmunity, the nominees who could come, the awards presenters, and a few members of the press) were all spaced around the auditorium. They were all wearing masks, as per the requirement of the governor and the smell of hand sanitizer was still fresh. There was also no orchestra as well.

On the stage, two podiums were set about 15 feet apart from each other on the left and right. A table was also there as well with the 33 Golden Rufuses all polished (and sanitized) for everyone's convenience.

Backstage, Sharper broke with tradition from wearing his seersucker suit. Since it was in the cleaners, he opted for the black tuxedo instead. BCB was wearing (inserting what dress she was planning to wear here).

Both were wearing masks as well.

"BCB, I always worry about the ceremony going crazy at some point!" Sharper said as BCB adjusted his tie.

"Sharper, you worry too much about it." BCB laughed, "Nothing's gonna go wrong!"

"Sure do hope so!" Sharper replied before noticing the female stagehand tapping her watch on her hand.

"That's our cue!" BCB said. "Strike up the music."

Since there was no orchestra to play the KP Orchestral Theme, the stagehand had a CD Player that was attached to the opera house's sound system. She put the CD labeled "KIM POSSIBLE ORCHESTRAL THEME" into the player.

The theme began to play as the voiceover said:

Welcome to the 16th Annual Kim Possible Fannies Awards. Give it up for your hosts: BCBDrums and Sharper the Writer.

The ceremony carried a TV-14 rating for Dialogue, Language, Sex, and Violence.

Once the song died down, BCB and Sharper stood 8 feet apart from each other and the podiums were rolled over to them. The crowd stood on their feet and applauded the hosts. Both the hosts removed their masks.

"Good evening, and welcome everyone to the 16th Annual Kim Possible Fannies Awards!" BCB exclaimed. "I am your hostess for the evening, BCB Drums, and of course you know my co-host as Sharper the Writer!"

"Yep, I am here for the...is it fourth ceremony I hosted or co-hosted?" Sharper asked.

"That's correct! Me and GT hosted last year's ceremony before all the craziness happened." BCB replied. "Within the craziness that was 2020 with all the lockdowns, we as the Kimmunity were able to publish just about 500 stories last year.

"That is, if you can take BCB and GT's Little Ones and Lipsky Family Tales, respectively, into the totals." Sharper added.

"The number is, in of itself, impressive, considering that KP's been off the air for 13 years." BCB said.

"It serves as a testament to the dedication we, the members of the Kimmunity, have for our favorite redhead." Sharper replied.

"Or favorite brunette cheerleader, in your case." BCB snickered as the audience gave a light laugh.

BCB then continued.

"Anyways, we want to give thanks to the people out there in the medical field who put their lives on the line every day in the middle of this pandemic!"

The audience applauded what BCB said.

BCB then explained the layout of the ceremony.

"For tonight's ceremony, it is going to be 4 hours long divided into two 2-hour segments with a 20-minute intermission inbetween the Most Unlikely-Unique Story and Best OneShot (K-T)categories. We'll have a variety of awards presenters: some who are in the audience, and some who will be in virtual."

"And before we go to commercial..." Sharper added, "As per the tradition of the KP scribes and elders..."

BCB then finished his sentence, "...here are the winners from last year's..."

"Pre-Pandemic!" Sharper interrupted.

BCB glared at him before saying, "...ceremony."

One by one, the awards for last year's ceremony were presented with a picture of the recipient and what category they won with elevator music playing in the background.

The 15th KP Fannies Awards Winners (2019)

Best KP-Style Name - Mary Juana and Canna Abis - Stoppable Family Vacation - Sharper

Best KP OC - Anna Stoppable - This Is Our Year: college - F86Sabre53

Best Minor Character - Tara&Hope - TIOY: College - F86Sabre53

Best Villain - BattleF'yuri – All Things Possible 4 - Slyrr

Best AU - Never Be Normal - Maeph93

Best Crossover - A Possible Encounter For a Phantom (DP) - Neomark

Best Alt-Other Canon Pair - The Tweeb and the Queen Bee (Tim/Bonnie) - MD Michael

Best Kigo - An Unforgettable Sitch - iycewing

Best Drakgo - RTOD - Gothicthundra

Best Kim/Ron - What's the Alma Mater - MrDrP

Best Comedy - Adventures in Babysitting - Gothicthundra

Best Romance - KP: Sitch of Summer - Beatlestributeman

Best Friendship - The Greatest Man I Never Knew - Leon R. Patterson

Best Action Adventure - TIOY College - F86Sabre53

Best Drama - Forefit - BCBDrums

Most Unlikely-Unique Story - Ron's Groovy Sitch -Senaraft

Best One-Shot (K-T) - Scared of the Dentist - F86Sabre53

Best Novel-Sized Story (K-T) - United and Divided - Librana

Best Short Story (K-T) - A Most Unusual Gift - Mahler Avatar

Best Series - Things Change Series - Gothicthundra

Best M-Rated Novel-Sized Story - College Spring Break - Chris Palmer

Best M-Rated Short Story - Beyond Graduation – Aleego

Best M-Rated One Shot - Shattered - IcarusTheFoxkidd

Best Young Author - Iycewing

Best New Author - Gothicthundra

Best Single Line - United and Divided by Librana - "No, you were made for me. Literally." (Kim referring to Eric). -

Neb Award - Daccu65

Kimmunity Achievement - Sharper

Best Reviewer - CajunBear73

Best Story of 2019 - RTOD - Gothicthundra

Best Writer of 2019 - Gothicthundra

And as the final group picture of all the recipients of the 15th Fannies was shown, the screen faded to black. And with it came the traditional Kimmunicator beep.

"Ahh...the Kimmunicator beep!" Sharper remarked.

"Which means that we are coming up on our first commercial break of the evening!" BCB remarked, "But when we come back, we'll present the first two awards: Best KP-Style Name and Best KP Original Character! So stay tuned!"

"Before You Go" by Lewis Capaldi played in the background.

[pluto-art]

Softly - PatB Fan Fiction

Type: Hurt/Comfort Rating: PG Summary: Baby Brain has known little but pain and misery in an unloving world, but when he gets paired up with a new lab student things change in a way he didn’t expect.

This started out as a mini story in a Discord server and got... a little out of hand. What you see here is how much I typed out in the server.

He hadn't been there long. Two... maybe three weeks? The cold metal had finally become familiar beneath his feet, and the strange blocks, though generally tasteless, kept him alive. There wasn't much that made his new living quarters interesting; there was only so much one could do in a pile of aspen shavings day after day. Occasionally, they would hook up to his cage some sort of liquid that wasn't his usual watery fair. He could never decipher or make heads or tails of the words on the sides of the bottles, saying things like D-D-T or S-N-I-P-P-L-E. The only distinguishing feature to him was that sometimes they tasted terrible, sometimes quite flavorful, and sometimes they tasted like nothing at all. Almost all of them turned his stomach. Driven to thirst, however, he'd play their cruel game. Choice was not something that existed in this crisp, sterile world; at least, not from a personal standpoint. When it did exist it meant the difference between a shock and a treat; a yellow light or a red light; a warm room or a cold one. Choice was manufactured.

He still cried almost every night. He tried to quiet the tears, but they didn't always listen. The others heard him. One or two laughed cynically. Most said nothing; they'd shed their own fair share and would again sooner than later. A single kind soul, a mother rat some doors down from him, occasionally whispered to him a lullaby or two when everyone else but them were asleep. They were songs she sang to her own children to quiet their tears, and she had no less compassion for this unfortunate soul, who was even worse off than her own brood -- he didn't even have any parents to nuzzle up to. Had she her way, she would have mutilated every last living human being in the facility. It was bad enough that they were tested on mercilessly as adults. To do so to children was simply insidious. Alas, she was simply a rat, and so could only dream of days when she wasn't.

Not that BR-41N (that's what they called him; no one had real names here) hadn't tried to be friendly with his captures. Aside from a particularly nasty poke from some long, thin, prickly object inserted into his thigh the first day (it had stung; oh, it had stung...) the proceeding couple of days had consisted of simple maze runs and treadmill exercises. Nothing too elaborate. As a child, he'd been used to running around a lot in the field, and sifting through the labyrinths reminded him of the long grass he'd play hide-and-seek in back home, except at the end of them was a tasty prize: a piece of cheese. He liked cheese. In the wild, it was hard to come by, but here they gave it to him generously, provided he finished the courses, which he always did. The fourth day followed in much the same way, but the fifth day brought something different: a sudden shock and a broken tail. That had changed his view of things. Perhaps the harsh awakening wouldn't have been so terrible had it not been followed by other unspeakable things -- poisoned food; friends made that, the next day, would never be seen again; more shocks given as punishment for choosing an incorrect panel; injections that made him see things he'd never seen, monsters and strange colors and other scary things that kept him awake at night; loud noises that came out of nowhere; and often, quite often, the terrifying echo of squeaks, barks, and meows that made up the daily music of Acme Laboratories. He hated it. He hated all of it. More than anything, he wanted to go home. He missed the warmth; the love; the soft whisper of the wind that traveled through his ivory fur. He wanted all of it back. But life? She was a harsh mistress. And no amount of crying, screaming, or pleading, seemed to ever make her turn an ear.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks... months, more than just a tail was broken. Trust was broken. Hope was broken. Spirit... was broken. If there was any love, if there was any future, it wasn't here. Kindness had proved unfruitful, and patience had run its course. He didn't find reason to be willing, nor show charity, towards those who made his life a living hell. What reason was there? What profit was in it? Time had told him, quite bluntly, there wasn't. It had taken him a full month to admit defeat, but admit it he did, and cynical he became, 'til every hand that reached in to grab him was ripe to be bitten, every shot that punctured his stomach was the unwelcome norm, and every newcomer that tried to strike up a friendship was easily ignored. The latter-most was simply wasting their time. He could read the colors on the cages now. He knew that a red mark meant "death". He only wondered why he, as of yet, had never been given one himself. It was as if life itself was laughing at him -- keeping him as witness to the horrors that went on inside the dragon's cave, yet never giving him the satisfaction of death.

And so the third month dawned, chilly and barren, or so the scientists said. Autumn had come. Not that any of the residents within the thick, cemented walls could see it. But the laboratory personnel spoke of it -- gold and crimson leaves, hot chocolate, dried wheat fields. He could almost smell the corn; could almost feel the breeze.... Days passed. For the first time, they gave him a cage mate. E8-WN, they called him. He was kind, but BR-41N had little love left to give. Besides, he had the red tag. It seemed they had only placed him here temporarily due to a lack of space. The next day he was taken to the back. The tiniest shred of pity nipped at BR-41N as he watched the little peach-furred mouse be carried into the surgical room, a curious look on his face. Another emotion was also present within him: jealousy. On the 17th day of September, a new thing happened -- a thing that, for the first time in a while, made the little mouse turn his head.

The school year had started, and, as such, fresh meat was welcomed into the laboratory in the form of fourteen college students looking to continue pursuits in medical science. They were all very quiet during the tour, one or two of them occasionally lifting a hand to ask a question about course materials or contact information. They were each, it seemed, to be given a subject: an animal from the laboratory to study, train, and conduct experiments on. Rats, mice, and hamsters had already been picked out for them, and each was given a black-coated subject or a brown-furred captive to take charge of. Each student's rodent was to be kept in the lab at all times, and specific instructions were given them as to the proper handling of the creatures. At least two experiments were to be conducted on them daily, three if possible. They could spend as much time with their charge as they wished, so long as they got their homework done. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents. Four months to finish their work. Simple.

As it stood, however, there had been a miscalculation. Fourteen students. Fourteen rodents.... No. Not fourteen. Only thirteen. There'd been an error. They'd forgotten to set aside an extra subject. The unfortunate student without a charge was a college girl named Rachel. All other rodents were going through tests conducted by various personnel in the lab, set aside specifically for said conductions that couldn't currently be tampered with. All except one....

"So, um, Rachel," their teacher said, checking his student list. "You may have to share with... Peterson.... You know what? We might... actually have an extra for you. Hold on. Let me ask...."

And he departed into another room, calling for a "Jackson".

"Jackson! Can she use BR-41N? I don't think he's going through any rigorous testing.... Yeah? Okay. Yeah, that would work out perfectly. Thanks."

He turned back to his brood, many of whom looked quite eager to jump in to these intriguing studies, others looking downright bored.

"Okay. We have one for you. His code name is BR-41N. He's not going through any major testing, and he's generally given the usual works -- labyrinths, shock treatment, all that. But, um... he bites. Really bad. So... you'll have to watch it, all right?"

"Okay," Rachel nodded, looking a little nervous.

"All right. Umm.... Good. Yes. So, let's head back to the main campus, and... we'll start your work tomorrow."

And they left.

BR-41N had only heard part of all this, and had understood none of it. He shivered in his cage, taking a moment to drink some water out of the bottle that hung there. While the arrival of such a large group intrigued him, especially since it consisted of a much younger set than normal, it also made him nervous. Was it a sign of good things to come... or bad? Or just more of the usual fair? One could only wonder. For now, he was simply grateful that the cheese they'd given him today was, for once, not laced with drugs.

She came by on a Tuesday.

It was an hour after a cosmetics test that he heard a knock on the table. His skin still burned. He was cowering in a far corner, and looked back over his shoulder hesitantly.

Rachel stood there, smiling at him.

"Hello, little one." He stared at her, nonplussed. "I guess you're my charge. You gonna say hello?"

And she opened up the door of his cage.

He shuffled back further. He knew all too well by this point that the opening of a door meant one of two things: food or torture. Considering the fact that she didn't smell of food, he had to assume it was the latter.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. Well, hopefully not...."

Although he didn't understand a word of what she said, her tone was calm; soothing. No one in the lab ever talked to him like this. He couldn't help but stare curiously.

She held her hand up to the entrance and made a soft, squeak-like sound with her mouth. He frowned at her. As if that was going to convince him. He turned away.

"No? I don't blame you," she replied, taking a look at his clipboard. "BR-41N. What kind of a freak name is that? Mind if I call you Brain? Or Brian?"

No response.

"We'll go with Brian. Brain sounds kinda weird."

Brian it was.

She kept the door open, and he braced himself. Any moment now, gloved hands would be protruding into his enclosure to wrap themselves firmly about him, not tight enough to choke him, but secure enough that he couldn't escape. But the hand didn't come. If anything, she pulled up a chair, sat down, and rested her arms upon the table on which his cage sat. She was... giving him a choice? He stared at her, unsure how to react.

"Come on, sweet heart," she cooed, rubbing her fingers together encouragingly.

But he wouldn't budge. If this was some new trick, it wasn't going to work. He wished she'd just grab him and get it over with. Sooner or later, she'd have to. It was only a matter of time. And so he waited....

She sat there for a full twenty minutes, trying her best to get him to come over, but he refused to budge, and so she gave up. As expected, she still ran him through a maze, but instead of reaching in to grab him, she found a clear tube and scooped him up in it, covering both ends before depositing him into the run as such. It was... odd, but less invasive than what he was used to. He rather wished the others would do it that way.

Via the same method she returned him to his cage at the end of the test. As usual, he took to the corner, assuming his usual cowardly pose, but he turned to look at her as she spoke.

"Sorry about that. Nice job, though. See you tomorrow."

And so went the next day... and the next, always with the same introduction: She'd open his door, pull up a chair, and offer her hand to him. After twenty minutes of nothing, she'd scoop him up in the tube, deposit him in the maze or whatever other test he was to perform that day, and return him in the same manner. This went on for four whole weeks, always with a kind word, never coupled with a harsh prod or poking of his skin. He came to somewhat look forward to her almost daily visits, not because he trusted her (the one time she had tried touching him [with gloves on, of course], he'd given her a fair warning in the form of a bite), but because it was the only two hours during the day in which he knew he wouldn't be fed poison, given a shot, or made to inhale cigarette smoke. The other students joked with her. By far, she had the unfriendliest mouse out of all of them, and they found her kind advances a waste of time.

"Just pick him up!" a tall boy said.

Most of them had no problem with handling their subjects by the tail; at least, the boys generally didn't. The girls were kinder, but even they didn't take the time to get to know their animals intimately. They also were given the harder tests to conduct on their critters and so tried not to get attached.

Whereas most of the rats, mice, and hamsters given to the students would eventually be killed in some way or other at the end of the semester, via through vivisection, gassing, cancer, or some other method, BR-41N, or... Brian, as Rachel now called him, was not scheduled to be offed anytime soon and so could not undergo such rigorous experiments. As such, she got both the easy job of conducting very simple tests on him, and also the hard job of trying to work with the most hostile mouse in the entire facility.

"He's never gonna warm up to you," one of the other students said.

Rachel took it as a challenge.

"Watch me," she said.

But Brian was proving to be a much tougher can than expected. By the sixth week, he still hadn't even bothered to venture near the cage entrance when she sat near it, even with tasty treats in hand. He simply didn't trust anyone. Not anymore....

October came and went, to be replaced with a frosty November. Whenever Brian saw Rachel now she had a cup of tea in hand, the better to ward off the coming winter chill. Still she tried; still he refused to relent. Until the 9th....

It was late. She hadn't been able to get to the lab until 8:00 PM due to unfortunate series of events that involved a fender bender, two appointments, and a last minute essay. When she got to the lab she was tired... and not at all in the mood to deal with Brian's B.S., and he knew it.

"'Sup?" she asked him wearily, setting down her things in a huff. Only a handful of other people were still in the facility at this hour, none of them students. Fine by her. She preferred the quiet anyway. "We're gonna do something a little different today, bud."

Indeed.... He perked his ears up at her exhausted tone and the fact that, for once, she didn't open the cage door. But she did still slide the chair up to his table.

On the opposite side of the room was a television on a rolling stand. Normally, this was used for surgeries and other experiments. Once in a blue moon, however, someone would use it for recreational purposes -- to watch the local news when there was time to kill. Most fortunately for Rachel, it also came with a VHS player. Into it she popped a tape, before sitting down in the chair and grabbing her hot cup of peppermint tea. Despite himself, Brian took a whiff of the tea, whose scent had wafted into his cage and tickled his nose. It smelled good.

The film began to play. Brian didn't know the name of it, but whatever it was it was made up of very pretty pictures and featured a lot of dogs... and snow (at least at the beginning). It was rather soothing. Still, he didn't move from his spot, save to grab a lab block at one point to munch on, more to pass the time than anything. His stomach was still a little unsettled from earlier. Privately, he was a bit ticked off at the girl. Had she been a bit earlier he might have avoided the shock treatments. Not that they would have withheld them regardless.

It wasn't until the second song that his attention was at last caught.

"La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...."

Sweetly did the animated woman sing her little song, and Brian, captivated, perked his ears. He looked up at the television. She was still singing. He stepped forward, bit by bit, until he was right up to the closed door, two little paws coming up to grasp at the bars of his cage as he stared, entranced, at the screen.

"La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper, La la lu, La la lu, La la luuuuu."

And so it ended, all within the span of a minute, if that, but something had stirred with him -- a remembrance of home, and warmth, and what it was like to be loved.

He was still clutching at the bars when he noticed that Rachel was smiling at him, and he promptly sped back to his corner, embarrassed.

"Atta boy," she whispered, still grinning softly at him.

He refused to look at her. He wasn't touched by it or anything. He wasn't....

"It's okay. Don't be embarrassed," said the girl. "I like that song, too."

Brian stayed in his corner the rest of the movie, but the song never left his mind. 

---

The next day proceeded as normal. Once again, Rachel sat by his cage. Once again, she had brought a treat, albeit one he'd never seen before, nor smelled, for that matter. It was small... and white... and fluffy, and it smelled sugary and sweet. He wanted it. Oh, he wanted it so very badly. But nothing that ever came from the fingers of a scientist, even a soft-spoken one, was innocent. And so he refused, his back turned to her.

"Stubborn butt," said Rachel, and by her tone alone Brian could tell that it was a snide comment. He ignored her.

"Here."

As had occurred many times before, she left the treat in his cage near the entrance, closed the door, and sat to watch him. His eyes shifted towards the treat. It sat there, staring at him, mocking him. Eat me, it said. No, he thought. Oh, but it smelled so good....

Rachel sighed. So did Brian. She rested her head in her arms, exasperated. Maybe it really wasn't worth it....

Brian licked his lips. Perhaps....

He took a step forward. Rachel remained where she was, head in her arms, not looking at him. He moved another step. She was still as a stone. Patter patter patter patter patter... GRAB. He swooped back to his corner as fast as possible, marshmallow in his mouth. Rachel looked up... and chuckled. Brian dug into the treat, enjoying every second of it as teeth sunk into the savory delight. He'd never tasted anything this good before. It was better than mother's milk; much better than lab pellets; better than cheese....

"Silly little thing," Rachel giggled, smiling as he filled his cheeks with pleasantness. "Wait 'til you see what I bring you tomorrow."

Tomorrow, he was to find out, brought a piece of a doughnut, and the day after that a waffle. He'd never been this darn spoiled before. On the fourth occasion, he was, for once, already at the door, waiting to see what she'd bring. Lady and the Tramp and sugar, it turned out, were the keys to his heart, although he still wouldn't let her touch him. If her hand so much as brushed his fur he was back to his corner in a rush, although, this time, he didn't try to bite her first.

Rachel laughed when she saw the two little paws clutching at the gated entrance.

"You like 'em that much, huh? Here ya' go."

He stepped back to allow her access to the gate, and watched carefully as she placed something savory and smelling of salt inside. He sniffed, investigating as she closed the door. He took a tentative bite. Mmmmm. Yes, this was acceptable. Grabbing it, he rushed back to his usual corner and chowed down.

"Good. A fellow bacon appreciator," Rachel nodded, satisfied.

He ate the entire piece, licking his lips and proceeding to clean himself afterwards. That had been a bit messy. Good, but messy. If there was something he still valued, it was cleanliness. He could at least retain some form of dignity. The state of his fur was one of the few things he still had control over. Unlike some of the other unfortunate chaps, he'd never had to endure surgery or a shaved stomach.

Two little pink ears perked up as his cage door was opened yet again. More treats? No. Just Rachel, hand offered to him once more. Brian sighed. She just wouldn't give up, would she?

A second glance made him aware that she did, in fact, have something in her hand -- another marshmallow. Hmph. Sneaky. And yet, he'd be lying if he said he didn't want it....

"It's okay, little one," Rachel cooed, hand still outstretched, that plump marshmallow beckoning ever so tantalizingly. "I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise."

Brian sighed. He looked down at the floor, then over at her hand.

Rachel's eyes widened a touch, but she otherwise didn't reveal her surprise as Brian moved forward, inch by inch, step by step, towards her hand....

He stopped at the entrance, debating. Dare he...? It was a risk. He'd never willing done this, not since he'd been captured. It was a stupid decision. Stupid. And yet....

Her hand shifted a touch, and Brian shifted nervously with it. Rachel waited with bated breath.

He stepped forward....

In a flash, he'd grabbed the 'mallow from her hand and retreated to the back of his cage, not daring to even think about what he'd just done. It was foolish. It was dangerous. And yet, she hadn't tried to grab him, or even pet him. She'd just... given him a choice. And he'd taken it. Somehow, for some reason, he'd taken it.

Rachel smiled.

"Atta boy."

---

Perhaps it was the mere fact, the tantalizing realization, that he had a choice in the first place, that drew him back, but over the course of the next few weeks, things changed.

It had started slow at first. A light brush of the whiskers here; a sniff of the hand there. But, eventually, Brian, of his own accord, stepped into her hand. And she didn't close her fingers about him harshly, or strangle him, or pick him up by the tail. She simply... let him be. It was kind. It was unobtrusive. It was respectful. And he appreciated it.

No longer did the other students make fun, or joke that she'd never gain his trust. If anything, they questioned her.

"How the heck did you do it?" they'd ask, curious.

Even more confused were the scientists themselves. Not that anyone had tried very hard to gain the little mouse's trust. He was, in their opinion, not worth the time.

But he was to Rachel.

December came, and with it a complete turn-around in Brian's behavior, albeit towards one particular individual.

He eagerly rushed into her hand now. No need for the transportation tube. She could carry him on her shoulder to the maze area and pick him up with her bare hands as she placed him in the labyrinth, although she still made sure to let him take the first step and would, more often than not, simply offer a hand instead of plucking him from her shoulder. He still appreciated this.

Every weekday was now a day to look forward to. Sure, he was still tormented by the main personnel, but for two or three hours, two or three sweet hours, he didn't have to worry about anything. On the days he suffered from a stomach-ache, she'd hold him close to her chest and do her best to rub the pain away, offering him tea to ease his suffering, and if he fell asleep on her shoulder and woke up, shaking, from a bad dream, she'd rock him back and forth, singing "La La Lu" to him until the nightmares went away. On those rare nights, when she could only work late and no one was around, she'd bottle feed him. He'd been hesitant (and a little embarrassed) at first, but any reminder of home was difficult to ignore, and so he ended up embracing each form of love and affection with open paws, clutching tightly to her chest some days, as if this hug would be his last. For all he knew, it could be. He'd gotten used to her visits, but what if she left and never came back? He didn't want that love to leave....

December 14th.

The end of the semester was approaching. Rachel had told him, time and again, that she was leaving soon; that she would miss him; that she'd try to come back for the next semester. Brian understood none of this. He was a mouse, after all. Human language was foreign to him. The most he could understand was the occasional word -- his name, Brian, and various names of foods and tests -- and basic inflections that he knew signified concern, happiness, or contentment. But he didn't understand "leave", or "semester", or "miss". He could tell something was wrong, that she was sad, but as to why, he did not know.

A week from the last day of the semester, she brought a surprise: a movie. It had something to do with a rat, and food. He liked it for those things. He wished he could understand the words. It seemed interesting. He sat on Rachel's shoulder the entire time, at least until the end of the film, during which Rachel offered her hand to him. He accepted. She brought him up to her chest, nuzzling him close.

"I'm going away for a while, but... I'll try to be back next semester."

She petted him gently. He stared up at her, curious and concerned. Why was she so sad?

"I'm going to miss you...," she whispered. And, for the first time, she kissed him on his fuzzy white head. "I love you...."

He didn't understand the words, but he understood what they meant; how they felt.

Slowly, gently, he nuzzled close to her... and licked her fingers. It was the first time he'd shown genuine affection outside of nuzzling since he'd been captured. I love you, too....

He didn't understand it, but... there was something in the air that told him something big was coming. Something new. Something was going to be different....

December 18th came just like any other day. The semester was coming to a close. Many students had already finished their courses and gone home for the holidays. The occasional class still lingered on, including the medical science class. Most all had completed training and experimentation on their subjects for the season and were simply spending the next few days filing reports and filling out last minute essays. Some of the rodents wouldn't live to see the new year. Others had already been subjected to vivisection by their handlers and were far from the lab by this point. Subject BR-41N was one of the few who'd been given the same sheet on their clipboard day after day, week after week: a run of the mill of the usual, simple, non-invasive tests, along with an injection or two. But today was different.

As Rachel stepped up to Brian's cage, sipping at a hot cup of tea and smiling as her charge ran up to the bars to greet her, she frowned as she pulled up the clip board. His tag was yellow. Not the usual blue, but... yellow. She set down her cup, ignoring Brian's squeaky pleas to be let out as she looked over the sheet carefully.

Subject Reserved for Project B.R.A.I.N. // Invasive Study -- Cognitive Psychology, Neuroscience Psychology // 4:00 PM - Dec. 20

There was a pause, in which the dip in Rachel's brow furrowed ever deeper, her eyes roaming about the page scrutinizingly, before she slipped the paper out of its holder and headed back out the way she'd came, Brian looking curiously after her.

She marched all the way to a back office, in which sat one of the laboratory heads: Jackson. He looked up over his square-rimmed glasses as she knocked upon the exposed inner door frame.

"Yes?" he asked, sounding bored.

"Hey. Um.... I think you gave my subject the wrong paper."

"BR-41N?"

"Yeah. He got a yellow."

She stretched out her arm, offering the paper as proof, but he didn't take it. Instead, he looked up at her, fingers meeting at their tips, and said:

"No, I gave you the right paper. That's for BR-41N. His procedure is in two days."

His tone was flat and laced with a thin layer of poison, as if her daring to question him was a challenge.

"But... I thought he was just doing mainly labyrinth tests."

"Ms. Field, I thought you were told...?"

"Told what...?"

"He's been scheduled for this procedure for months. We wanted him fresh and so have eschewed more invasive tests until now. Frankly, you've been spending a little too much time with that mouse. He's gotten too friendly. We're not in the business of developing attachment here."

He said all this with a straight face, completely emotionless. Rachel swallowed thickly.

"Sir, I've... been going over this test. It's... very dangerous."

"Yes."

"It could kill him...."

"Yes?"

Rachel simply stared at him, uncertain of what to say next. He wasn't working with her here....

"Look.... What did you expect? You're studying medical science, correct?"

She nodded.

"Okay, well," he continued, a small chuckle of sarcasm escaping his lips as he said it. "Y-You have to realize that... this is a laboratory. We can't keep every subject. And these tests come with a lot of risks."

"Could you possibly do the test on another subject...?" Rachel asked, choosing her words carefully. "Brian is still kind of young, and..."

"Brian?"

Shoot.

"Sorry, I mean... BR-41N."

"You can't start... naming them, Miss Field. That's when you start getting attached. Understand?"

"I know...," Rachel mumbled, cheeks reddening as she looked down at her shoes.

"And the whole point of using him at this age is because his mind is younger. He's fresh."

"But he's just a baby..."

"Yes? And? A lot of the other students are working with infants."

"This one is...," Rachel began, than stopped. Already she'd said too much.

"Miss Field, if you don't prepare him for the procedure, someone else will. Now, you can either do your assignment or lose your credits. It's your choice."

Rachel sighed. Still holding the paper, she let her arm fall dramatically to her side.

"Fine...."

And she turned to walk off. But...

"Miss Field?"

She looked at him.

"Don't do anything stupid."

"Yes, Sir," Rachel replied, after a hefty pause, and headed back to her charge.

---

Brian didn't understand why Rachel was so quiet that day, nor why she cuddled him so much. She whispered to him something about "breaking out" and "night", but he didn't understand what those things meant, although he heard the urgency in her voice. As a result, he was a little more uptight the rest of the afternoon.

Before leaving, Rachel kissed the top of his head again, before setting him back down in the cage and hooking the door. Her good-byes were all but gibberish to him, although he recognized the word "tomorrow". So he'd be seeing her tomorrow. That was good. At least he had a time frame. He was naive to the rest....

---

December 19th 9:15 PM

BR-41N cleaned his whiskers, pondering.

She hadn't shown up today. Strange. "Tomorrow". She's said "tomorrow". Today was tomorrow. Why hadn't she come?

To his left, in a far corner of the room, someone sneezed in their cage. Brian frowned sadly. It was that hamster again. Whatever they'd given him had put him into a sneezing fit for an hour. Now and then he relapsed.

He yawned, stretched, and made for the food dispenser, when he suddenly heard a sharp click of a door being opened and abruptly snapped shut. He turned in the direction of the door. A light flicked on. Brian smiled.

Rachel's feet slid across the floor in haste. Instead of her usual student lab coat, she was decked out in her normal clothes, complete with backpack. Her hoodie was up, obscuring her hair, save for a few strands that stuck out here and there, as well as part of her face. She moved with purpose, albeit a little covertly, looking over her shoulder every now and then, as if expecting someone to grab her at any minute.

Set in a wall above the entrance to the room, a camera followed her. Rachel's eyes shifted at the sound as she moved towards Brian's cage. She knew she only had five, maybe ten, minutes at best.

Opening the cage door, she held her hand out for Brian to step onto. He hesitated. Something didn't smell right....

"Come on. We're busting you out of here, dude," Rachel whispered.

Brian cocked his head at her questioningly.

"Listen, they're going to put your through that splicer if we don't get you out of here, so come on."

There was an urgency in her voice that, despite his misgivings, compelled him to move forward. He trusted her too much by this point.

"Atta boy," she praised him, tucking him in her shirt pocket.

He peeked out, paws clutching at the edges of the pocket interestedly.

"Let's go," Rachel whispered, turning back to the door and stopping as she realized that someone was already standing there....

Framed in the metal doorway was a woman, thirty-five... maybe forty-something in age. Her arms were crossed, and the expression on her face seemed as taught and firm as the scrunchie tightening her poofy auburn hair. Her long lab coat was still settling; she must have only just gotten there. Rachel recognized this woman. Lana, her name was -- she was one of the head managers at the facility. Jackson had obviously tipped her off.

"Fancied a night stroll?" she asked, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Rachel remained frozen in place, a hand subconsciously cupping her shirt pocket. The gesture didn't go unnoticed.

"You know you're risking a lot for this. That's all your credits down the drain."

"He's worth it," Rachel answered, resolute.

"He's not. You take him and they'll just get another subject."

"At least I'll have saved this one."

"We'd still rather you not take an asset that's been reserved for months for this procedure," Lana nipped, taking a step forward.

Rachel took a step back. Her eyes shifted to a door to her left. It led to several other testing rooms and then back out into the main hallway. Some of the doors had security locks. It was the long way around, but if she was fast enough....

"Rachel...," Lana spoke, tone threatening as she advanced. "Put him down."

With each step Lana took towards her, Rachel moved two back. She could feel herself starting to perspire. Gosh, this was a stupid idea....

"Rachel...."

With a hand cupped over her shirt pocket, Rachel darted in the direction of the door, opening it up in a flash and slamming it shut behind her. Already she was racing for the opposite end of the room, where another door stood.

Brian jumped as an alarm went off, followed by red lights that flashed all throughout the facility. Rachel was already in the next room, her heart racing. She could hear the panicked footsteps behind her, mimicking her own, and hoped upon hope that she was faster than her pursuer.

Rachel picked up her pace as she entered the next room. This one, she knew, required an employee badge to open. All of the students had been given security badges, of course, primarily for general access to the entrance and main rooms. They worked on some doors in the facility. Some, but not all. She'd never been in these rooms. Privately, she prayed that they'd open for her.

Slamming her badge up against a wall panel, she bounced up and down on the balls of her feet nervously.

"Come on. Come oooon! Take it!!"

It did. The door unlocked, and she swung it open in haste to make for the next locked door, which also granted her entrance.

She was faster than Lana, but it didn't mean the woman wasn't hot on her heels. Brian shut his eyes tightly, huddling against Rachel's chest on the inside of her pocket as she darted about, her hand still cupping him securely. He knew, somehow, that this was about him. His ears rotated this way and that at the duo of clicking feet racing down the linoleum flooring. Who would win? Who was he most valuable to?

It wasn't until the fourth room that Rachel started to panic. Yet again, she'd reached a door asking for proof of access, except this time... her badge was not accepted. She shook the door handle feebly, knowing it wouldn't open; knowing this was the end of the line. Despite himself, Brian peeked out of the shirt pocket, just in time to see Lana as Rachel swiftly turned around to face the woman, who stood at the opposite end of the room, hair askew and chest heaving as she glared at Rachel and her tiny charge.

"You're persistent, I'll give you that," Lana huffed.

"Why do you need him?! Just let me take him and get another subject!" Rachel bit.

"We let you get away with it and you'll set a precedent! You know that!" Lana snapped right back. "And we don't want to waste any more time. We've spent too much money on this project."

"He's just a baby!"

"All of them are meant to be expendable! Hand him over!"

"No!"

Brian's ears flicked. Rachel held her breath. Was it just them, or did they hear... more footsteps?

"You won't have a choice," Lana said flatly, expressionless as she was joined by not one, not two, but five other lab hands, one of the them Jackson, all of them full-time personnel.

"Rachel.... Hand him over," Jackson said, holding out his hand expectantly.

Rachel glared daggers at him, even though she was fully aware of the impossibility of the situation. Like the mouse she was trying so hard to protect, she was trapped, her back against the wall, literally. They were going to take him. They were going to take him and there was nothing she could do about it....

"I told you not to do anything stupid," Jackson continued.

"Please...," Rachel pleaded, breathing heavily. "Please, let me take care of him. I'll train another in his place as compensation, I swear. Just... don't hurt him."

"And then you'll grow attached to that one and try and kidnap it. We've seen it before. You're not the first," Jackson reprimanded.

"Good," said Rachel. "I'm glad I'm not."

Privately, she wondered why she'd ever signed up for this in the first place. She wanted the degree. She wanted it badly. She also loved animals, and knew that following her passion came with sacrifices. What she hadn't counted on was how difficult it would be to accept that. It wasn't feasible, she realized. In fact, it was darn near impossible.

She looked down at the infant trembling in her pocket -- at this little creature that had captured her heart and locked it away, far away from any hopes and dreams of graduating in the medical field of her choosing. "He's not worth it," Lana had said. Was he not? Brian looked up at her, those glossy little eyes staring at her expectantly, trustingly. She smiled sadly at him and, for the last time, cuddled him close, before looking up at the troop across from her.

"If you want him, come and get him," she challenged. They weren't getting him without a fight.

And they rushed at her.

She tried to escape. Oh, she tried... and failed. They grabbed her by the arms as she wrestled against them, cheering Brian on as he somehow managed to escape from her pocket and slip underneath one of the shelving units in the room. But Lana caught him, Brian squeaking as his tail snagged between the beaker and the small metal panel she'd captured him with. He stared at Rachel, his desperate, panicked expression the last thing she saw before being knocked out.

-------

- Two Years Later -

The plan had failed. Rather spectacularly, he might add....

It was the first time in Brain's memory he could ever recall being caught red-handed by any of the personnel at Acme Labs. It was a miracle he and Pinky had managed to escape, but, despite his best attempts, they'd been separated in the process.

He made for a facility some yards away from the main laboratory, sweating as he squeezed under its front door and immediately hid under a cabinet to his right. Lights flashed now and again beyond the windows, desperate voices accompanying them as the scientists searched here and their for the escapees. Brain silently prayed that Pinky had somehow found a suitable hiding spot.

In his position under the cabinet, he backed up against the wall and slid down it, a paw clutching at his chest as he struggled to catch his breath. After a few seconds, he gulped, sniffed, and buried his face in his knees. Stupid. Stupid.... He'd jeopardized their whole mission. What if they'd captured Pinky? What would they do to him? And even if they did escape, where would they go? He'd ruined everything. Everything....

In his haste to remain undetected, he'd neglected to realize that this room... was not entirely devoid of life. It was a small area -- a security office, to be exact. Numerous monitors took up space on a desk, at which someone sat. They slid out of their chair and stepped over to Brain's hiding place. He noticed... and shivered.

Whatever, whomever, it was got down on their knees to peer at him from just outside the dresser.

"Hello...," they said.

It was a woman. Her voice was soft, and kind, but Brain turned his head away from her prying eyes. Typical. In an effort to not get caught he'd inevitably been ratted out. He immediately considered making a run for it, but, for some reason he couldn't explain, he didn't.

"Hey.... Shh. Shh. It's okay, little one. It's okay," cooed the woman. "You wanna come on out...?"

And she held out a hand to him. She didn't try to grab him, or scare him out. She simply... gave him a choice.

But it had been too long. He didn't recognize her, neither she him... until she noticed the tail. Then she knew.

"Brian...?" she breathed, eyes growing wide.

He stared at her, nonplussed, still shivering.

"Brian, it's me. Rachel," she beckoned, her hand still in place. But he didn't move. If anything, he frowned at her. "Brian"?

And she tried everything -- talking to him soothingly; offering him a treat from her pocket. Nothing worked. Brain simply hid his face once more, willing her to go away; to leave him be; to, hopefully, not report him to the authorities if they came to call.

Rachel sighed. She sat up for a moment, thinking, and blinked. Struck with a sudden idea, she rested her hands on her lap... and began to sing....

“La la lu, La la lu, Oh my little star sweeper, I'll sweep the star dust for you...“

Brain blinked... and lifted his head, ever so slowly....

“La la lu, La la lu, Little soft fluffy sleeper, Here comes a pink cloud for you...“

He stood up... and walked forward, right to the edge of the cabinet. She was still singing.

“La la lu, La la lu, Little wandering angel, Fold up your wings, Close your eyes...”

His mouth was fully open now, his round eyes glossy and getting ever shinier. He couldn't pull his gaze away from her face.

“La la lu, La la lu, And may love be your keeper...

La la lu, La la lu, La la lu....”

Rachel stared at him, smiling. He had completely stepped out from under the cabinet by now, his little body trembling slightly.

"Hello, little star sweeper," Rachel whispered to him.

Breath hitching, Brain ran onto her lap, up her shirt, and clutched tightly to her chest, only a second or two going by before he felt those familiar hands hold him gently, securely.

"Oh, Brian...," she choked, kissing his head. He didn't even flinch.

"Why didn't you come back?" he asked, unable to hold back his tears.

"I couldn't," she answered honestly. "But I was able to keep an eye on you from here."

He sniffed and pulled back a little to look around the room. It was, indeed, a security office, and a fairly high end one at that, decked out with all the works.

"I'm an artist now, but in my part time I take the night shift. They at least let me come back for that, probably 'cause Jackson and Lana are gone now," she chuckled softly. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you this time...."

Brain looked up at her, suddenly understanding. All that time they'd never been caught; never been reported. All those months and years that the camera had simply turned a blind eye to their antics. He thought it was simply negligence. Now he knew why.

"Thank you...," Brain whispered. "And it's... Brain now."

"I know," she smiled. “I still watch tv, ya' know. I just still remember you as my 'Brian'. I'm sorry, Brain."

He couldn't help but smile. All this time....

"Come with me?" Rachel asked him.

"Where?"

"Back to my place. I'll hide you. You can have the guest room, if you'd like."

A sharp knock at the door startled them both, and she quickly ran to her desk, Brain in her hands. She lifted him up and under the desk.

"There's a hidden panel in the roof! Get in it!" she whispered to him urgently.

He found it, albeit with a little difficulty. He pushed at a little area that looked as if it had been cut into... and down shifted a small cubby in which she kept an assortment of odd bits and bobs that were probably not supposed to be in her possession -- special looking keys and badges, among other things. He slipped into it, and Rachel pushed it closed before walking over to answer the door....

Another barrage of bangs thundered at the entrance as Rachel opened it, a hand on her hip as she held the door ajar, doing her best to look as ticked off as possible.

"Sheesh! Gimme a minute to finish pouring my tea! Gosh...."

Outside stood two gentlemen, both in lab coats, looking frantic.

"Have you seen a mouse?" one of them said. He was taller and appeared to be the leader. "White. Large cranium. He was with a companion."

Rachel shrugged.

"Is that what you guys have been looking for?"

"You haven't seen them on your cameras?" the second man asked, panting a little.

Rachel shook her head.

"No, I haven't seen anything."

The men exchanged glances.

"We'd better search the place, just to make sure," the leader said, and without further ado they barged in and began searching every nook, cranny, drawer, and trash can they could. They failed to find the hidden cubby, however. "Can we ask you to roll back the footage?"

"Sure, but you're not gonna find anything," Rachel shrugged again.

They did as permitted, scrutinizing every bit of film captured within the last ten minutes. Although they managed to catch one or two glimpses of the mice leaving the lab, as expected, they couldn't find hair no hide of them on any other roll. Behind their backs, Rachel smirked. Smart little guy. Even on the run, he'd purposely made sure not to walk in the path of the cameras.

After several more minutes of scrutiny, they finally gave up, heading for the door in a huff.

"Sorry for your time. Report to us if you find anything," said the leader.

"No problem," Rachel said, shutting the door with a snap behind them and sighing deeply. Yeah, right..., she thought.

Going back to her desk, she pushed open the hidden cubby. It lowered down and Brain immediately jumped into her hand, breathing rather heavily.

"Sorry, little one," Rachel apologized. I can imagine it's pretty stuffy in there...."

He gave her a look, albeit not a very harsh one. He had no reason to complain.

She raised her hand, allowing him to jump up onto her shoulder.

"They'll be back later to go over more footage," Rachel warned, sitting down at her desk and leaning back in her chair.

"I know," Brain said, licking at his paws and smoothing out his frazzled fur.

Rachel jumped a little and stared at him.

"Heh. I forgot you guys talk now...."

"Is that a problem...?" Brain asked, a little nervously.

Rachel smiled.

"Not at all."

She reached out a hand to scratch at a spot behind his ears.

"What are you...? Ohhhh-ho-ho-ho...," Brain melted, reeling a little at first before giving way to a goofy smile and a thumping foot as he pressed into the touch.

"Still got that little sensitive spot, huh?" Rachel chuckled, her scratches evolving into a head massage.

Brain practically fell off her shoulder, Rachel catching him in her hands and raising him up to eye level, the better to get a good look at him. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. How demoralizing.... But Rachel simply beamed at him.

"You know... I really missed you."

"I... wish I could say the same...," Brain confessed, shuffling a foot. He imagined he had thought of her often, as an infant, but over time the memories simply... faded.

Rachel didn't look upset, though.

"I understand. It's okay. I still love you."

"I...," Brain began, then stopped. No. He couldn't bring himself to say it. Even with Pinky he couldn't ever admit such a thing, and he loved Pinky most of all.

"You don't have to say it. I know you do in your heart," Rachel said, and she kissed him tenderly on the top of his head.

His ears flattened as she did it, and he almost immediately smoothed out the area where she'd kissed him, but he couldn't hide the blush tickling his cheeks and ears. Her behavior was cheesy as all get out, but privately he knew she was right. He did care, even if he'd never admit it.

Just then, something, or... someone, slipped underneath the door. A white-furred, lanky somebody.

"Pinky!!" Brain yelped.

Brain leapt off of Rachel in a flash, landing hard on the floor and limping a little as he ran into Pinky's outstretched arms.

"Brain!!" Pinky shouted right back. "Oh, I thought I'd never see you again!!"

He twirled him around in a circle or two before Brain became aware of what he was doing and promptly pushed himself out of Pinky's grasp, clearing his throat, once again embarrassed.

"Y-Yes, well.... I'm... glad you're safe, Pinky," Brain replied awkwardly, patting his companion on the head.

"Ohhh! Who's this, Brain?" Pinky asked, pointing up at Rachel, who still sat in her computer chair, smiling down at them both.

"Umm.... Pinky, this is Rachel. She's... an old friend."

"Nice to meet you, Pinky! I've heard a lot about you. Well, maybe not heard, but... I've seen you guys on the tv a lot!" Rachel said, beaming.

"You have?!" Pinky gasped, clasping two paws to his face in surprise. "Did you hear that, Brain? We're famous!!"

"Pinky, we've been famous many times, all of them never lasting as long as I'd like...," Brain recollected.

"Well, yes, Brain, but never to a friend!"

Rachel smiled and leaned forward a little.

"I have a proposition for you guys."

"For both of us? Is that legal, Brain?" Pinky whispered to his cage mate, looking concerned, to which Brain facepalmed.

"Proposition, Pinky, not proposal."

"Ohhhhhhhhh. Well, that's different then, isn't it?" Pinky said, nodding eagerly to Rachel.

"How would you guys like to come room at my place? Just for as long as you need until you can get off your feet."

Once again, Pinky gasped excitedly.

"Can we, Brain?!"

"Well...," Brain pondered, hesitating. The offer, though generous, made him feel rather... helpless and awkward, as if he was intruding.

"You're welcome to any of the food and stuff. I've got havarti," she smirked.

Pinky gasped again.

"Oh, please, please, please, please, pleeeeaaaaase, Brain?!?" Pinky pleaded again.

"You're... sure you wouldn't mind?" Brain asked. "I'd hate to intrude...."

"My house is yours," Rachel said genuinely. "And it comes with a pool table," she added, winking at Pinky.

Pinky was doing his utmost to contain a squeal, biting his lip and practically bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. Brain rolled his eyes.

"Oh, all right...," he relented.

"YAAAAAY!!" exclaimed Pinky, jumping into Rachel's outstretched hand, followed by Brain, as she lifted them up onto her shoulder.

"You'll have to hide in my backpack on the way to the car," she said. "The next guy is about to swap out with me."

And she pulled her backpack up from off the floor and plopped it onto the desk, opening it up. Pinky sprung off her shoulder as if it was a diving board, plunging into the depths of the backpack, which, by all accounts, wasn't very deep. Pinky didn't seem to mind, though. He had fun "swimming" around amongst the snacks, car keys, pencils, wallet, and little sketchpad all the same. Brain simply shook his head, unable to keep a smile off his face. What an idiot.

Rachel was as good as her word. They were given the guest bedroom, along with access to the rest of the house, food included. Provided they didn't draw too much attention to themselves, they were allowed to tinker and plan all they liked within the safety of the back room, and lie low they did, for Acme Labs was on the hunt for a good number of weeks before they gave up on finding them entirely.

Pinky was quite fond of the seemingly unlimited amount of cheese available in the fridge, along with the plethora of movies Rachel had at her disposal. He was often to be found in front of the television, and if he wasn't there he was by Brain's side almost constantly. Brain was most grateful for the space in which to concoct experiments and conjure up plans for world domination, although he had to improvise more often than not, seeing as he didn't have all of the lab's equipment at his beck and call anymore. It was something he sorely missed, but he couldn't say he minded the warm bed and good food that came with their new living quarters either. It was... nice.

Once in a blue moon (which ended up being once a month), Pinky would request Lady and the Tramp for movie night, not just because he liked it, but because of Brain's unusual reaction to it. He liked to watch him subconsciously lean up against Rachel as they sat next to her, eventually breaking down into a fit of silent tears as "La La Lu" danced around the room. Sometimes Rachel would pick him up, holding him close and massaging his head as he calmed against her chest. Oftentimes, Pinky would join them, cuddling up next to Brain as they nuzzled together in Rachel's warm hands.

"I love you, Brain," Pinky would mumble sweetly, giving him an extra squeeze.

"I love you, little one," whispered Rachel, petting him softly.

I love you, too, said Brain in his own little way, holding them both just a tiny bit tighter, a smile creeping its way up onto his face. It was nice, being loved....

~ I love you, too. ~

The End

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

The ending of this is meant to be sort of an alternate to Pinky, Elmyra, and the Brain. What if they'd ended up there after running away from Acme instead of at Elmyra's?

I didn’t realize until after writing this that it makes no sense for Rachel to be cool with Brain talking one minute, only to be surprised by it the next. It’s a glaring error on my part, but I left it in as a reminder to myself that I need to be more careful. Lol.

Technically, this whole thing is a self-insert, although the name of the girl is not my real name. It’s actually the cognomen of my very first rat. Ha-ha. But the personality of the character is me -- how I talk; act around animals; and most likely what I’d do if put into this situation. The exception is the chase scene. I don’t think I’d act that... panicked? Who knows, though....

This is kind of a way I show compassion for Brain, seeing as I cannot, of course, give him an actual hug. I love Brain more than any other fictional character I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching on screen. It’s not a romantic love or anything. Certainly not. It’s more... maternal. The desire to love and protect is strong. That combination of: individual with a tragic backstory + laboratory setting + main character who happens to be a mouse = the perfect concoction to turn my heart to mush. I owned rats for many years and have a great love for animals, and tend to get attached to certain fictional characters, so here you have the result. He’d be as averse as ever to physical affection, but if I could hold Brain in my hands, plant a kiss on his head, and tell him he’s loved. I would. Thank God for Pinky.