#although he could do underground tests

[redpenship]

a double flash event near empire territory has been detected by satellites

[yandere-sins]

Can I request a reluctant reader taking care of a very sick yandere? Yandere can be any character of ur choice >.< tyia

Thanks for requesting! ^-^

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"You're hurt..."

The stench of blood, dirt, and sulfur filled the air in the underground hideout as you climbed off your bed, the heavy metal around your ankles rattling when you moved. You watched as the silver-haired man collided with the wall before sinking to the floor, his body sparely illuminated but his hair shining brightly, giving away his position. Your gut churned with hesitance, with the instinctive need to avoid all evil—especially the one that had threatened and abducted you. But it had been so long since he left. So long that you've been stowed away in secret. You were, unfortunately, drawn to him like a moth to the light.

Even though you kept your distance from your captor, your words barely a whisper as if not to disturb the man sitting on the ground, holding the side of his stomach, Calcharo flinched at the sound of your voice, cranking his head back to look at you. His gaze was unreadable, his whole face a mask free of emotions. But judging by the pool of blood collecting next to him, the wound must have hurt, even if he showed no signs of it.

"I promised I'd be back—" he mumbled as a ripple of tension tightened his muscles, everything in him readying his body to get up from his spot. As if greeting you properly was needed at that moment. But with his teeth bared, the gaping wound stole all of his strength, making him sack back to the dusty ground with a muffled groan.

"Give me a moment. It'll heal."

Curiosity killed the cat as you stretched your neck, bile rising to the top of your throat at the nasty sight of the gash. Even Calcharo's big hands—that you remembered so vividly squeezing and pulling at your body—weren't enough to cover the wound completely, blood soaking all of his clothes and staining the floor. Wasn't there medicine for that kind of injury? Although, seeing a doctor would probably be more appropriate. If it wasn't for the awkward situation you were in, you'd have freaked out at even the thought of seeing someone so badly injured, yet all you could do was stand in one spot, a good five steps out of his reach.

Even when you fiddled with your hands, wrenching and holding them, you were less anxious, knowing he wasn't in the condition to harass you that day. He'd been gone for a while, leaving you to your own devices and the evergrowing boredom. But you were still undecided if you preferred him being back and constantly hovering over you, watching and testing your reactions, or the loneliness and isolation you experienced, chained up and hidden away who-knew-where when he was gone. Both were unideal; both were destructive behavior on his part. You didn't have much choice in it, but him coming back severely injured was a situation you hadn't grown accustomed to yet.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

His head jerked upwards, eyes narrowing at you suspiciously. Yeah... you surprised yourself, too. You weren't the type to offer help, especially not to him. You were his captive, nothing more, nothing less.

"Or not..." Hands falling to your side, you fiddled with the seam of your shirt instead, avoiding his gaze as always. To Calcharo, you were an object to be observed, one he owned now but still couldn't help but expect to be betrayed by. As if you were going to pull a knife out any second now and stab him, even after he immobilized you with the chains around your legs. He was that kind of man; that much you had learned about him, even if it barely seemed to graze the surface. You began hating the feeling of his eyes on you the moment he revealed himself to you in this shabby hideout, his gaze so incisive it hurt. As if his eyes were daggers that he dragged through your flesh, stabbing over and over in an attempt to rip out your soul for him to observe.

"There are some bandages behind the mirror in the bathroom."

Torn from your thoughts, you couldn't help but stare back at him, even as his head fell forward again, his gaze disappearing. You two didn't have that kind of relationship. You didn't help him when he was in need, so you felt surprised at the simple instructions. They held no weight as if he didn't care whether you followed them or not—as if he expected you not to, rightfully so. Glancing at the blood, you thought that a bandage might be useless, that he needed stitches at least. But Calcharo said nothing more, pressing his palm harder against the wound without making another sound. Your head turned towards the door leading to the bathroom, and although it felt wrong to consider helping him, a compassionate part of you recognized that he needed you, your feet slowly turning away, picking up the pace as you disappeared from his sight.

The mirror caught your reflection as you flicked on the light. You had seen better days that much was sure. You weren't famished, the bags under your eyes more from anxiety and stress than lack of sleep. However, the green glow of the light didn't do you any favors either, and although you didn't think of yourself as ugly, you could only wonder what your kidnapper saw in you that he had to take such drastic measures. You were just you. That seemed to have been enough for him, even if it was strange.

The chain around your ankle felt twice as heavy as you wondered how long you'd be in this situation. Would you ever be free? Would he let you go if you helped him? Calcharo had always been silent when you asked him for his reasons. He'd sit by your bedside and wipe away your tears if you cried, begging him to be reasonable, but he never gave you the answers to console you. That was the kind of man you had offered help to. Someone so cold and selfish.

Opening the cabinet, you realized you had never looked behind the mirror before. Why? you wondered, but you were surprised at the amount of medical equipment. There were a couple of first aid kits and a box of resonator-only medicine and tools. He had every shelf stocked fully, and although he only asked for a bandage, you took at least one of everything you could find.

Calcharo was eerily quiet when you returned to his side. It made your pulse rise momentarily as you feared he might have died in the minute you were gone. The chain you were strung to clattered as you ran over, dropping to your knees next to his, dropping some of the extra weight from your arms to the floor in a moment of panic. You realized your closeness too late, anxiety shivering down your spine with how little distance there was between you two. But your focus shifted instantly, relief filling you as Calcharo looked up at you again, his eyes dropping to the items crammed between your arms and body. He scanned over your haul, and you immediately felt silly for worrying about him at all. He was perfectly fine, it seemed.

But what would you have done if he died?

You didn't know how to get out of here in the first place. Calcharo had never shown you any keys to undo your chains or to open any doors. There were no windows, and if you got out, there was no guarantee you wouldn't be in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by Tacet Discords going for your throat. These thoughts made your heart sink with a sense of panic as if reality was finally hitting you over your head. Or perhaps it was the thought of living with a corpse until you found your demise here as well. Either way, you were glad when he reached for one of the packages, revealing some round pills that he slipped between his lips, glancing up at you for a moment as if to make sure you were watching him swallow them. You fiddled with the medical utensils until you found another package, wanting to give it to him, but he shook his head as you held it out.

"Just use the bandage."

"You want me to do it?" you asked, reluctant to simply act. Glancing at the first aid kit, you were sure you'd find some there, but so far, Calcharo had always handled himself around you. Even when you had an outburst, trying to hit him, he'd let you slap him across the face rather than stop you. You'd half-expected him to retaliate when you stumbled back, recognizing his strength as superior and bracing for the impact, but it never came. He had always remained calm and composed, even with the glowing red hand-mark across his cheek.

It was the same with food or bathing. Calcharo always had enough rations stocked, and if he was back at the hideout, he made you meals all the time, only eating your leftovers or getting something for himself after you had your share. And he never took a shower first, ensuring you had all the warm water that would eventually turn cold (sometimes you let it run out of protest). You thought it might have simply been resourcefulness, but you began overthinking your beliefs now that he wanted you to do something for him.

"Are you sure?" you asked him again. There was a sense of exhaustion when he looked up at you, and much to your own surprise once more, you quickly snatched the first aid kit when he reached for it. "I can do it! Just didn't think you'd want me to..."

Calcharo let out a short grunt before lowering his arm again, not fighting you on this, but his eyes followed every one of your movements as you fiddled with the first aid kit. Ridden with sudden determination, you almost dropped all the contents on the undoubtedly nonsterile floor, only catching the bandage midair while some of the tools clattered to the ground. Quick as lightning, Calcharo caught a small pair of scissors before they could graze your leg, his bloody fist wrapping around it so tightly, you could see his knuckles whiten through the red sheen.

You gulped, watching him drag the scissors and his arm back to his side, too afraid to straighten your gaze and see the wound in full glory. When you agreed that you could do it, you had temporarily forgotten about the truly gut-wrenching part of medical treatment, and suddenly, you were even less sure about all of this.

Calcharo grumbled under his breath, noticing your sudden stiffness. His free hand reached out to touch yours. "Open it," he muttered, and his words put your body into motion. Following his instructions was so much easier than working through the thoughts that made you hesitate. He grabbed the start of the bandage from your hands once you unwrapped it, waiting for you to get onto what he was doing as he placed it over his naval before pressing it down onto the wound.

There was some visible comfort in the way his shoulders rose tensely as he covered the wound, but he dragged the now bloody bandage over the gash with skilled precision. As if he had done this countless of times, and you were almost certain he had. You reckoned that his life must not have been easy if he got so used to hurting himself for the sake of simply healing. But you quickly reminded yourself not to sympathize with him. To not forget how he wronged you despite this moment of unusual humanity. Usually, he appeared to you more like a monster, but right then, he was but a wounded soldier, and perhaps your parents had been right; you were too good-hearted for your own good.

Dragging the bandage to his side, Calchero stopped, huffing as you had stopped unwrapping more of it. He pulled his legs in so he could push his torso off the wall before he looked up at you. Gulping, you knew what you had to do. It wasn't like he wouldn't do it himself, but it was honestly ridiculous that you sat there frozen in place now that you had come so far. Inching closer, you positioned yourself between his legs, hesitating for a split second more before you reached out your arms, wrapping them around his front to reach behind Calcharo.

Carefully, perhaps with less pressure than he would have liked, you wrapped and pulled the bandage from his back to his front again. Calchero released it once he noticed you taking action, but when you reached the blood-soaked gash again, it was his hand that did the dirty work, pressing the bandage down. There was about one more round that you could make, and you quickly guided the wrap around him once more before making an amateurish knot on his healthy side. It was far from perfect, and you tried to ignore the feeling of his blood coating your hands now, too. It didn't feel like you helped him, but it was what he had wanted.

Placing your hands on the ground, you wanted to get up again, get some healthy distance between you two, and clean your hands if you got the chance. But before you could even slip one leg out from underneath you, Calchero's whole body suddenly collapsed forward. In a spurt of a moment reaction, you grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing your own between his collarbones to brace against his weight that could have easily buried you underneath it.

"H-Hey!" you called out, unsure what was happening, when you suddenly felt him inhale deeply, his hot breath releasing against your chest, sending shivers down your spine. And then, he chuckled.

"I didn't think you would."

His voice vibrated against your skin as he spoke them directly into your body. You didn't know what to say nor what he meant, but you felt the goosebumps rise across your arms and neck.

Calchero lifted himself just enough to nuzzle his face between your neck and shoulder, his weight so heavy as it rested on top of you. All you could do was curl your fingers into his body, and you cursed yourself for not immediately pushing him away, a small part of you afraid you might agitate the wound.

"Didn't think you'd care about me."

"I don't," you clarified, sounding pouty rather than confident. It had been a mistake, after all. You should have just let him sort out his own mess and stop being a busybody and help. Then, you wouldn't be in this situation now, your pulse throbbing in your ears as your heart began to beat faster with the anxiety and discomfort.

"I'm glad," he muttered. "Glad you care."

"I don't!"

This time, you did push. At least you tried. Calcharo didn't move an inch away from you, his head resting on your shoulder, his body threatening to bury you underneath if you didn't stay solid in your spot. The thought of Calcharo trapping you on purpose crossed your mind, and you hated yourself for not seeing it coming, walking right into the trap. And even if not, he was clearly exploiting the situation for all it was worth!

Of course, he'd take advantage of your kindness. Of course, he'd use your naivety and kindness to exploit you for something he wanted. Even if you questioned why it had to be you, why he kidnapped you of all people, his intentions—albeit disciplined—had always been clear. Although he held himself back from doing something regrettable so far, you had caught him touching you often: touching your hand while passing you a plate with food, brushing away hair from your face right after waking up, and letting his fingers glide over your arms or legs while you had dozed off, just to name a few. You should have been more careful. Should have listened to your body telling you to stay away. It might have just been something akin to a hug, but you should have never allowed him to go this far.

What if he took your kindness for consent?

"Please stop," you mumbled, feeling the tears shoot into your eyes. You didn't need to turn your head to know his eyes had opened, probably after hearing the sob in your voice. You wished you were stronger, able to push him away. Wished you could have fought him and caused him to stop liking you—wanting you. Wished you never even thought of him as anything but a monster.

"Just a little bit longer," he mumbled, lips brushing against your skin. Even when hiccups shook your body, Calchero didn't move, didn't budge. It seemed he didn't care anymore, getting exactly what he wanted. All you could do was sit there and wait for it to end, just like always. You felt his gaze vanish, the closeness allowing him to observe you differently, without needing to see when he could instead feel you.

His arms wrapped around your body, and you felt more trapped than ever, the feeling only registering when he said two more words that day,

"Thank you."

[tiredoffeelinglost-writes-shit]

Fire in My Blood

Bane x Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Word count: 4908

Warnings: 18+, Non-con drug use, fuck or die (sort of), slight dub-con (but not really), unprotected sex, mainly PWP, unbeta'd

A/N: my first time writing smut so be gentle

You woke up in bed, slow and groggy. The pain in your head was rolling through you in waves and you thanked your drunk self for at least closing the curtains so there wasn’t too-bright sunlight burning through your eyelids. Idly, you hoped that whatever you couldn’t remember doing last night was worth a hangover this size. You shifted to cradle your head in your hands but your hands didn’t move. Panic washed over you, sudden and icy. Your hands were trapped above your head. 

Forcing the panic aside, you tried to take in your surroundings. You didn’t want to open your eyes yet, in case you were being watched, so you listened hard for something, anything, to tell you where you were. 

No footsteps, no shuffling, no breathing outside your own. Aside from our hands, you were lying comfortably on what you assumed was a bed, complete with a pillow under your head and a blanket that smelled freshly laundered. The room felt bigger than your bedroom and you could hear a kind of white noise outside the walls, getting louder and softer in intervals like–

Waves. Water. 

You must be near the docks. Probably one of the abandoned warehouses frequented by one of Gotham’s handful of criminal enterprises. 

Speaking of criminals, you thanked your lucky stars for the recent training in analyzing and understanding your environment from the man that still sent chills down the spine of most Gothamites. 

You didn’t understand how you had caught Bane’s attention but you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it. It took some time between your underground meetings and the handful of times he visited your apartment through the fire escape but you had molded a sort of companionship. He was gentler with you when you weren’t training. The glimpses you got of Bane the Man and not just Bane the Weapon had inklings of longing for something more worming their way into your heart but you squashed them to the best of your ability. You knew who Bane was and knew he could never see you as something more than what you had. 

Taking a steadying breath, you slowly opened your eyes. Only a sliver of the room was visible through your eyelashes at first but you didn’t see anyone else around. You blinked your eyes open and looked toward your hands.

Plastic zip ties held you to the metal headboard, biting into your wrists. You flexed lightly, testing their strength, when a door to your left opened and a man in a long white lab coat walked in.

Jonathan Crane was an objectively handsome man. The whole evil mad scientist thing left a lot to be desired although, knowing him, he probably had a drug for that too. His attention was on a clipboard he was carrying. Talking to himself in soft murmurs, he strode confidently over toward your bed. 

“Ah look who’s awake!” He finally looked up at you and smiled, full and genuine. “Perfect timing.” His gaze raked over you, cool and calculating, and it made your skin crawl, suddenly aware that you were dressed in only your bra and panties from the night before. The thought of Crane undressing you while you were unconscious had bile rising in your throat. 

“What am I doing here?” you fought to keep your voice steady. 

“I needed a guinea pig for something I’ve been working on lately. I was out looking for suitable candidates last night and saw you out with your friends.”

Something must have shown on your face because Crane waved his hand dismissively. “They aren’t here. They had too much alcohol in their systems and it would’ve taken too long for it to metabolize. I couldn’t risk that altering my results.”

Now your blackout made more sense. You had been out with a small group of friends at a bar just celebrating the end of the work week. Things had gotten a little fuzzy but you just assumed it was due to one too many margaritas. Crane must have slipped something into your drink.

Anger flooded you. “You kidnapped me to use me as a test subject?”

“You shouldn’t sound so ungrateful! You’re helping the cutting edge of science! Of understanding the human brain!” He sounded so earnest as if he truly believed in his work without a care in the world that he kidnapped you for it. 

The panic you had been fighting down, hit you like a train. You were trapped on a bed with a madman who had plans for you and no one knew where the hell you were. You wondered how long it would be until anyone found your body. You had to get out. 

“I needed you to be awake before I started the test, though,” he explained. “It will be much easier to judge how quickly the effects start if you're conscious.” He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out a syringe and vial. The pale purple, syrupy liquid in the vial seemed to swirl as Crane pulled it into the syringe, his brow furrowed in concentration. 

With the dose measured out, he turned back to you. You shifted as far away as your binds would allow, inadvertently pressing yourself further into the mattress.

“You’re a smart man,” you tried to reason with him, “You know who I spend my time with.” 

Explicitly connecting yourself to Bane wasn’t something you wanted to do - whatever you two had felt tenuous at best - but desperate times call for desperate measures. No one would be dumb enough to touch someone with any direct connection to the man, right?

“Oh, yes, I know,” Crane’s smile was predatory, “and I’m counting on him coming to save his little pet.”

His palm pressed the side of your face into the pillow, keeping your neck extended even as you thrashed against the bed. The needle pierced the tender skin and Crane’s eyes glittered in the dim light as he released the drug into you. 

“You crazy bastard!” Your wrists were bleeding freely now, slow trickles running down your forearms and dripping onto the sheets as you continued to try and pull yourself free.

Whatever he gave you didn’t hit all at once. It started in your chest, warm and slow, and radiated outward, but warm grew into too hot all too quickly, curled around your lungs and ribs, and squeezed. Your breath stuttered on the next exhale. Part of you expected to see smoke trailing out between your lips. Liquid fire pooled low in your stomach and you were suddenly, painfully, aroused.

“What the fuck?”

Your heart pounded in your ears, overpowering Crane’s monologuing no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on it. Fire raced in your veins and you pulled against your restraints, sparks licking your wrists. 

Through the haze in your brain you could barely make out Crane talking about Lust and Fever and Sex and Orgasm and Death. Even firing on all cylinders, you didn’t know if you could find a good combination of those words. 

Something in the distance caught his attention and he grinned like a shark, all predator and sharp teeth. Crane knew what it meant too. 

“He’s gonna tear you apart,” you hissed. 

“Oh, on the contrary,” he spoke slowly and looked in your eyes, making sure you understood every word, a condescending lilt in his tone, “I think he’ll send me a thank you gift after this.”

He left with a chuckle that sent a chill down your spine even with the growing furnace inside you. 

With Crane out of sight, you squirmed to try and break the zip ties again but the new sensations had you gasping. Your wrists didn’t hurt so much anymore and what little pain made it through to your awareness landed just on the side of pleasurable.  The blanket underneath you rubbed against you everywhere, everywhere, and your cheeks flamed when you noticed the wetness in your panties. You tried to force yourself to lay still - to stop and think about your next move - but your hips rolled anyway, searching for friction you wouldn’t find. 

You squeezed your thighs together, chasing the orgasm you could feel rushing at you just beyond your reach. The coil snapped and it flowed through you like cool water down your parched throat. It broke the haze just briefly. You gasped a breath like coming up out of water.

If it was possible for you to blush further, you would’ve when you opened your eyes and were met with Bane’s. How much had he seen? 

The man stood over you, stoic as ever, and gave nothing away. He watched you silently, taking in everything.

“This is not one of his usual toxins.” He finally spoke. It wasn't a question but you shook your head anyway. 

“He said it was something he had been working on.” You swallowed hard, fighting a shiver. "He didn't start really talking until he had already drugged me and I couldn’t focus. Something about fever and sex and death but..." you trailed off, nervous and unwilling to really finish that sentence. Shaking your head was a mistake you learned as nausea hit you. “Needed a test subject.”

Bane nodded slowly, hard eyes glinting off the light as he looked around the room. “There’s a camera,” he mused. “He’s watching.”

“Sick fuck,” you seethed. 

Bane huffed out something that could’ve been a laugh and wrapped his fingers around your wrist. You startled both of you by moaning lowly. His touch was like a soothing balm and lit match against your nerves at the same time. 

His eyes were on your face but his fingers didn’t move.  

“Fuck, I’m sorry- I don’t know-,” you stuttered. “Can’t think- Too fucking hot.” You clenched your teeth, cutting off the half-formed thoughts you couldn’t stop.

Calloused fingers brushed across your forehead and you bit back a whimper. 

“You have a fever.”

You nodded, eyes shut tight. There was a heavy pause.

“You are…aroused.”

You turned your face away from him but nodded again, shame rocketing through you. Tears fell against your will.

“Please just get me out of here,” you whispered.

The zip ties snapped easily under his hands and you had to clamp down on your mind straying to thoughts of feeling those rough fingers on your skin again. Your core throbbed at the mental image alone. You couldn’t help rubbing your thighs together, breath hitching. Vaguely, you realized you were gasping out a string of apologies when Bane shushed you, just a hiss leaking out of his mask.

“You are not in control of your body. Do what you must.” The words came out stiff, barely contained anger tingeing them but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you.

Dark eyes met yours as you searched his face, needing to see if he was serious. His sincerity was open and unwavering. The weight of his hand settled on your stomach, the warmth of his palm bleeding into the coil inside you and snapping it just as soundly as the zip ties. 

Your eyes rolled back and you groaned as that cooling wave shook through you, quieter this time. 

“It will be easier if I carry you out but it may be…uncomfortable for you.”

“Do what you must,” you parroted his words with a weak smile, hoping for levity.

A silent nod was the only reply and he was wrapping you up in the blanket you had been laying on. The texture was scratchy and it insulated the heat of your skin but you bit your tongue. Strong arms lifted you effortlessly. You buried your face in the blanket and settled against his chest as he moved. 

It was a position you had found yourself in before. You had a habit of falling asleep in places you shouldn’t and he often carried you to a place that wouldn’t have your back or neck screaming at you when you woke up. On one particular occasion, you had fallen asleep slumped over on the couch in your apartment and floated to awareness being lifted and carried to your bedroom. You felt like a child again, protected and cared for. Your nose pressed into his jaw, just under the line of his mask. He had laid you gently on your bed, still unmade from the morning, and brought the duvet up to your chin. You had tried to fight your way to full consciousness.

“Stay,” you breathed, afraid he wouldn’t hear. Afraid that he would hear and leave anyway. After a beat, the other side of your bed dipped with his weight, half laying, half sitting up against the pillows. You had rolled into him, soaking up his warmth. Later, you would  blame pressing your face into his chest on the fact that you had still been on the wrong side of consciousness.

His hand tentatively rested on your shoulder as if he didn’t know what to do with it. You let out a light hum, hoping to reassure him. A smile almost slid over your lips when his palm slid down along your spine to settle at the center of your back. 

Just before you slipped back into sleep, you swore you felt him press his mask against the crown of your head. 

“Little one,” Bane’s voice brought you out of the fog in your brain, “Are you with me?” 

You blinked your eyes open and lifted your head from the blanket cocoon. 

“Always,” you replied. You became mildly aware that you were in your apartment but you didn’t remember how you got there. How long had you been lost in your head?

“My men are taking care of Crane,” he said. You both knew what he meant but the fewer specifics you knew, the better. “Barsad will make sure that nothing from the camera he had in that room will be seen by anyone.” His grip on you tightened. “He will never touch you again.”

He deposited you on your bed and was standing over you once again. He didn't show any outward emotion. You didn't know what to say or how. 

"I'm sorry." You said anyway. It came out small and weak. Hell, you weren't even sure what you were sorry for. Getting kidnapped? Not being able to get out of the situation yourself? 

Your head was too full of feelings you didn't understand. You couldn't think straight. You had never been more aware of your own body before. The lingering feeling of Bane’s arms around you, the godawful blanket. You swore you could feel your blood flowing in your veins. 

Light fingertips ghosted across your forehead, pressing lightly on the creases between your eyebrows, and your eyelids fluttered closed. You bit your lip. 

"Does it hurt when I do this?" He moved his hand from your forehead to your wrist. His thumb rubbing just under the wound that the zip tie left. 

You shook your head, not trusting your ability to make any noise that wasn't wholly embarrassing. 

"I need to hear you say it." 

You swallowed hard. "No, it doesn't hurt. It’s like my body can't decide if it feels amazing or like I'm holding it next to an open flame." You rushed out. 

“What do you need?” he asked after a heavy pause.

A simple question that had your head spinning. Rapid fire flashes of his large frame over you, under you, those rough hands all over you, inside you. You bit down on a moan, nearly biting through your lip.

“Just talk to me. Please.” It came out shaky and too vulnerable. 

His brows furrowed. “That will not help with the effects of the toxin.”

Resolutely keeping your lips shut tight, another tear escaped down your cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb. 

“I cannot just sit by and do nothing when you’re suffering.”

You shook your head, the action making your head swim. “I can’t ask that of you. I won’t.”

His hand settled on your stomach. The pressure sent waves through you. The fire in your core roaring anew.

“You don’t have to ask. You just have to let me.”

Your glassy, tired eyes met his dark, earnest ones as you searched for something, anything, that would give you reason to say no. You weighed the option of just letting the toxin do what it would instead of ruining what you and he had. 

But you couldn’t deny that you wanted what he was offering.

“Okay.” You nodded lightly. 

You hissed as he shifted the blanket off of you. It felt like sandpaper against your highly sensitive skin. His gaze flicked up to you but kept on his mission, lightly tracing his fingers up your thighs. It might've tickled a little if you had a better handle on your nerves. 

There was only a slight pause in his movements before he was bending down to pull his boots off and then joining you on the bed, kneeling in front of you. His eyes searched your face as he spread your thighs, placing one of your legs on either side of his hips. You fought down every bit of embarrassment you could feel burning red on your cheeks and looked away.

“No,” he spoke softly but clearly. A calloused finger under your chin turned you back to meet his gaze. “Don’t look away, little one. You need to stay present and tell me if I do anything to hurt you or if you need me to stop. I want to help, not cause more harm. Understand?”

Only after you gave a small nod did he release your chin and return his hands to your inner thighs, higher than before. His thumbs rubbing small circles mere inches from where you needed him.

His eyes caught on the damp patch darkening the fabric of your panties. He made a single slow pass over your center with his thumb. You bit down on the inside of your cheek and let out a rough exhale, your fists curling into the sheets.

“Try to relax,” he rumbled, gaze flicking up to your face and back down. “I understand this must be unpleasant for you but fighting the toxin will prolong the effects and may make it worse.”

A whine escaped your clenched teeth as you forced your muscles to relax. His thumb began slow, even circles over your clit, like a reward. Pleasure rose quickly now that you had stopped pushing it down. 

 “Nothing said or done here will leave this room,” he assured you. “You are safe to do what you need to get through this.” He hooked a finger around damp fabric and pulled your panties to the side. The first brush of a callused fingertip sent a jolt up your spine. “Tell me that you understand.”

Your hips rocked minutely, chasing his touch. “I understand.” 

“Good girl.”

His finger slid inside you in one push and your walls tightened around him, sending you over the edge again. You couldn't be embarrassed about the noise you made even if you tried.

The toxin’s haze faded marginally again. In all honesty, you had hoped that an orgasm brought on by someone else would have been all it would take but, of course, Crane’s concoctions are never that simple.

As many times as you indulged fantasies of Bane in your bed, though you would never admit it aloud, you didn't want it to happen like this. Not when it was only like an obligation for him. 

The finger steadily pumping inside you became two and the stretch brought you out of your thoughts with a whine. 

Bane slowed but didn’t stop. “Does it hurt?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, no, it’s just a lot,” you reassured him, moaning around the last word when picked up his pace again. “It’s like I’m feeling everything double or triple.”

“It’s good then?” 

He curled his fingers slightly, searching. 

“So good.” You choked on a gasp when he found the spot inside you that made your toes curl. Those rough fingertips massaged tight circles around it while his thumb copied the movement around your clit. 

Moans flowed from your lips unhindered. One of your hands reached down to clutch at his wrist while the other tightened in the sheets. 

You could feel the crest coming but it was just out of reach. Your head thrashed on the pillow, grinding your teeth. 

"Fuck, I can't. It's not-" you stopped with a whine, tears gathering in your eyes. Your hips rolled of their own accord in search of friction.

“It’s not enough,” he finished for you. 

"Crane told me that you'd send him a thank you gift for this." You blurted out. "Like this was something you wanted."

He froze. 

“He’s wrong, right? Of course he is,” you rambled, squeezing your eyes shut tight. “You don’t want this. Why the hell would you? I’m just me. An annoyance even on a good day, a hindrance on any other. I’m not-” 

Pressing his hand over your lips, he stopped your rambling. 

"Not like this." It was quiet but you heard it, you knew you did. Your gaze met his again and you just stared at him for a heartbeat then two, willing yourself to take a chance. Telling yourself it would be worth it. 

Fuck it. If it goes wrong, you can just blame it on the toxin.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling yourself further toward him. Your heat pressed against the obvious tent in the front of his pants. His hand fell from your lips as you dragged yourself up to him, close enough to share breath.

“Please.” You ran your nose along his cheek and quickly unhooked your bra. His eyes flicked down briefly once the lace was removed and laying on the floor.

“Little one,” he murmured.

"You're the only person I would trust with this." You pressed a firm kiss to the front of his mask.

A harsh breath hissed out from behind the grate. He took only a brief pause to gather himself before moving off the bed stripping quickly. Your eyes raked over every inch of newly exposed skin. Lightly tanned, criss-crossed with scars, and stretched over his wide frame and well-built muscles. You’d seen him shirtless before under much different circumstances and it was a sight you had guiltily used on nights when you were alone and you knew this was something that you would add to your shameful late night fantasies until the day you died. 

His cock slapped against his stomach as his pants hit the floor. The sight alone had a whimper crawling up your throat. He was thick, flushed red and leaking, and you couldn’t tell if the need to feel him inside you was more the toxin or your own. 

Your breath caught when his fingertips curled into the top hem of your panties. His gaze held yours until the lace joined his pants on the floor and he returned to his spot between your thighs.

He wrapped a hand around himself, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock.

“Are you with me?” His eyes searched yours.

“Always,” you breathed. 

He filled you slowly, measured, careful, and watching your face the entire time. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you and he was acutely aware of the size difference between the two of you. His fingers flexed against your thighs, keeping you still in his grasp. 

Even with the toxin’s effects on you, the stretch of Bane filling you had a twinge of discomfort filtering through the pleasure otherwise washing over you. 

He finally bottomed out and you let out a low groan. You couldn’t decide where to keep your hands and they flitted from his shoulders to the bedsheets to his forearms to his abs, anything you could touch. Maybe if you found something to hold on to, you could keep yourself from floating away. 

Bane grunted as you clenched around him and minutely ground his hips into you. 

“Shit, move please,” your fingers dug into his forearms. 

You expected him to be rough and fast. Simply chasing release with his mission as a sole focus. But this was something else entirely. He was still focused but his mission was you, not just getting off. He was curled over you, forehead pressed into your shoulder, caging you in with his forearms and rolling his hips into you. It felt amazing.

But it wasn’t enough. You could tell he was holding back, even if it was for your sake, and, if this was the only time you got to experience Bane like this, you wanted all of him.

“Bane, baby, please.” You gripped the back of his neck and pulled his face up from its hiding place. Flicking your eyes up to meet his wild ones, you planted a firm kiss onto his mask, running the tip of your tongue along the grate. “I’m not gonna break.” You dug your heels into his ass, urging him on. His eyes darkened at your words, pupils already blown wide. His hips snapped forward with a grunt, forcing a gasp from between your lips. He levered up on his knees, towering over you, as he pulled out almost entirely and wrapped your hips in a bruising grip. 

A growl slid out from behind his mask as he looked down at you.

“Fuck yes,” you moaned out. Your eyes rolled back when he filled you again, impossibly deeper than before. 

Long gone was the caring pace he had set before. Every one of your favorite fantasies of rough sex with Bane couldn’t compare to the real thing. Part of you was already excited to see the vibrant bruises you’d find on your hips later. 

Bane’s angle was perfect, the head of his cock rubbing against your g-spot with devastating precision. 

“Oh fuck, right there, please.” Your fingers curled around his wrists and your back arched up off the bed. 

You bit your lip hard to try and stop the string of embarrassing whines escaping with every powerful thrust. 

“No,” something akin to a snarl clawed out of Bane’s throat.

He pinned your wrists above your head, holding you fast with one hand. He ran the thumb of his other over your bottom lip, spit-slicked and bitten red, and pulled it from between your teeth. 

“I want to hear every single noise of pleasure you make,” he growled. 

You caught his thumb between your teeth and curled your tongue around it. His fiery gaze dropped to your lips as you sucked, drawing the calloused pad deeper into your mouth.

“I’ve heard those pretty sounds fall out of your lips countless times, I’ve heard you call my name at night, don’t you dare hide them from me now.”

He hooked his thumb behind your teeth and pulled down. A hard snap of his hips forced a loud cry from between your lips. 

“Good girl.” He chuckled darkly.

He released your jaw and trailed his hand down your neck. His fingers found your nipple, spit-slick thumb circling the bud before pinching it between rough fingers. You squirmed beneath him as he twisted and pulled, the bite of pain only serving to amplify the pleasure coursing in your blood. He showed the same treatment to your other nipple and you fought weakly against the hold he had on your wrists. 

“Please, fuck, please,” you moaned. At this point, you didn’t even know what you were begging for. Your head was fuzzy with the tightening of the coil in your stomach. Each drag of his cock inside you, each grind against your clit, feeling wholly and solely overwhelmed by the man above you, nothing else existed outside this moment. 

“Let go, little one,” he purred. He reached down and rubbed tight circles over your clit. “Give it to me. Let me feel you come on my cock.”

You screamed his name as the knot in your core snapped hard and your vision went white. Bane snarled and buried himself to the hilt finding his own release as you lost yourself in the waves of your orgasm crashing one after another. 

Floating back to yourself, you felt a firm body under your cheek and tentative fingertips tracing along your back. 

The toxin had burned itself out, no longer smoldering in your core. Now, you were afraid. Was all that just because of the toxin? Had Bane just reacted to you? Of course, he had offered but what if none of it really meant anything to him? Hell, it probably didn’t. Just a means to an end.

You didn’t realize you had started shivering until Bane moved you to lay over him and wrapped his arms and the duvet around you. 

You slid your hands under his shoulders and pressed your face into his neck. 

“Are you with me?” you whispered, fighting to keep your voice steady.

A beat of silence and his arms tightened around you. 

“Always.”

The talk that both of you knew needed to happen, could wait just a little while longer. For now, you were content to stay in the moment. You placed a slow line of kisses down his neck and pressed your nose into the juncture of his shoulder instead. 

“Sleep now, little one,” he rumbled beneath you. 

Just before unconsciousness took you, you felt him press his mask into the crown of your head. 

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Old Therebefore 🐍🕊️ | A Six of Crows Imagine

Takes place after the events of S&B S2

My masterlists

Characters & Pairings: gang leader!reader x Crows (platonic). Kaz Brekker x reader (slight tension)

content warnings: profanity, mentions of violence and death, typical SOC themes. | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 4k

Premise: it’s not often Kaz Brekker needs assistance to a job involving anyone other than his Crows. Yet, there is always a first. When a job comes involving not only a high cash prize but also chances of coming out alive slim, Kaz accepts it is out of his skill level. So, what does he do? Take a risk by recruiting his top rival since Pekka Rollins was run out of town….she’s got the charm of a snake with a voice of a songbird. 

Note: so as you can tell by the title of the imagine and song linked, I saw the new hunger games movie (back in November) and literally could not stop thinking about this song/scene. Then of course my hyperfixations like to collide and wallah: here is the end result.

Disclaimer as always: the song and lyrics belong to Suzanne collins and all the SOC characters belong to Leigh Bardugo

---------

“You know, Kaz, I know better than to question you on most things,” Jesper scanned his surroundings, voice low with slight concern. “But I can’t help but wonder why you’ve decided to drag us to the ‘Snake Pit’ tonight.” The sharpshooter sipped his glass of rum after a close inspection, “mind telling us.” 

Seated around him, Inej, Nina, and Wylan expressions bore the same unease. All on high alert the moment Kaz led them through the doors and down the spiral staircase into the Barrel’s infamous Snake Pit. 

Located deep on the opposite side of the Crow Club, the Snake Pit was an underground bar/club. Home of the legendary crime gang, the Blood Serpents. They’d been around since Kaz was 15, their leader to have been the same age as him. Yet the public knew very little of the notorious boss. Only by their code name. 

The Snake Charmer

Of course, this information made Kaz lose his mind at times. Unable to identify his anonymous rival who’s bested him on multiple occasions. If the opportunity arose, Kaz would pay any amount of kruge to find out who the Snake Charmer was. It’d been well over a decade. His patience was running thin.

Finally, the wait would pay off in the form of a messenger boy. 

Knowing Inej was too recognizable, Kaz sent a young member of the Dregs--who was under the radar to the other gangs--to infiltrate the Snake Pit the week prior. The boy returned hours later to relay a crucial piece of information. Now, Kaz was to test that theory. 

Clutching his cane, the crime boss did not spare a glance to his fellow Crows the second they entered the Pit. Even when they took claim to a rounded booth in a far corner by the bar. His attention was occupied. Analyzing the club and its features. Mentally noting the Blood Serpent members, who were identifiable by their red snake tattoos on their hands. 

One of which was the bartender that served them drinks. A young woman about their age, she wore a maroon pin-stripped 5 piece suit although the blazer was forgone. The tattoo was on full display. Kaz assessed her lingering on him when she pushed the tray of drinks toward Jesper. Likely recognizing him and by default the rest of the Crows. The bartender didn’t say anything after, only giving a nod before moving to the next customer. 

To the other Crows, they thought Kaz’s intense stare on the bartender was either because he thought she was attractive or making note she was just another member of the Serpents. But, what they did not know was Kaz figuring out if she was the Snake Charmer.

“A woman?” he questioned the boy, narrowing his eyes. “You are telling me the Snake Charmer--leader of the Blood Serpents--is a woman and works under the guise of an employee at the Snake Pit. Are you positive?”

The boy nodded profusely, “Yes, Mr. Brekker. I can assure you it was no man singing that song. She sounded like a siren if I must say. She calmed the snakes like it was nothing-- I see why they call her Snake Charmer.”

So a woman was responsible for a lot of Kaz’s failures. Not to mention winning the territory he’d hoped to gain when Pekka was defeated. They’d come to a settled agreement through a middle man. An action that annoyed Kaz. But he knew better than to wage war with the Snake Charmer. 

So far the women in the gang he’s managed to identify besides the bartender were two serving girls, a door bouncer, and two poker dealers. A total of six. Of the men, most of them were standing on the walls and mingling along the floor. 

Bet she didn’t expect him to enter her den. 

The Snake Pit was exactly like what the boy described. Dark wood floors and walls up to the high ceilings. Dangling chandeliers, poker tables, two bars on either side. Booths aligned the walls. The most notable and unique trait, however, was the glass snake enclosure right smack in the middle of the floor. It was cylinder shaped at the bottom, lining the floor to the ceiling where it branched out on either side to resemble a tree. Plants and dirt filled it. 

As did ten serpents. Ranging from tiny garden snakes to a python.  

Jesper cringed when his eyes landed on it. Wylan looked deathly afraid. Nina found it amusing. Inej thought it was fitting. Kaz was pleased to see it. To him, that was ammunition.

Kaz answered Jesper with one word that told the whole story, “Business.” 

“What business could you possibly have with the Snake Charmer?” Inej questioned, hand on her side close to her knives. “Don’t you think we should be discussing the plan?”

“And we are,” Kaz rebutted, leaning into the booth with his gaze set on the enclosure. “We’re here to flush out the Snake Charmer.” 

Jesper choked on his drink, meanwhile Nina and Inej looked at Kaz like he was crazy. “You’re fooling us aren’t you?” “Boss, jokes aren’t really your thing--.” “You’re insane, Kaz, if you believe that’ll happen.”

“You see that enclosure?” He cut off their rambling. All responded with a look of, ‘Of course we see the ginormous Snake habitat in the middle of the club full of our enemies.’ Kaz nodded to it, “we need to destroy it.”

Once again, Jesper choked. This time on his saliva. “You’ve lost it,” he ignored the glare from his boss, “Did going through the fold change you, Kaz? Clearly you’re not actually thinking we let loose a dozen snakes,” he leans forward to whisper, “we don’t even know if they’re venomous. If their bites don’t kill us, surely their owner will.” 

Analyzing Kaz, Inej lowered her tone, “what are you not telling us, Kaz?”

Giving one last scan of his surroundings, Kaz addressed his Crows with the truth of why he brought them to the Snake Pit. “I have a lead on who the owner of this establishment is.” Their reactions were immediate, Kaz continued. “A week ago I sent a young messenger boy here to scout out the place--find anything that could help identify the Serpents boss. During closing he snuck into one of their storage closets,” Kaz attempted to locate said closet, somewhere behind one of the bars. 

Kaz paid close attention to the bartender and the poker dealers. “At some point in the night, one of the snakes got loose. Or,” he turned to Jesper and Inej, “my theory is they use those snakes as a means to get information on people.”

“Great,” Nina sighs, “you want us to free the Serpent's torture method. Well done, Brekker. Excellent plan if I must say.” The heartrender received a glare, but Kaz did not entertain it further.

“As I was saying,” his tone was stern, making the others hold onto any additional comments. “The boy overheard the panic of one of the Serpents. Turns out, the Snake Charmer doesn’t take kindly to her pets being mishandled.”

“I can see why,” Jesper mutters, glancing at the enclosure. 

Kaz gripped his cane, watching the female bouncer approach the bartender and exchange words. “He then heard a woman’s voice. Singing.”

Wylan raised a brow, “Singing?”

“Whatever it was, it calmed the snake. Allowed her to return the animal back to its case. The boy said he heard arguing between a couple members who hoped to clean up their mistake before the boss discovered it.” Kaz shifted in his seat, “didn’t end well for them.”

“Did you get a look at her face?” Kaz peered out his office window, facing the direction of the Snake Pit’s location. Moonlight shining down, almost as though the Saints wanted him to see the building. Behind him, he heard the boy clear his throat.

“No, Sir.” He stuttered, tensing at the sight of Kaz lowering his head. “The door didn’t have any cracks or holes I could see through. I tried looking underneath, but only got a glimpse of their shoes.”

Kaz pinched the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. “What happened after she finished singing? How’d you get out?”

“Once the snake was handled, she ordered them to her office. She sounded….calm, but you know how you just know when someone is masking their anger. That’s how it was when she addressed them.” Kaz hummed, indicating he understood the boy’s implication. Considering he was guilty of such.

“And then?”

“I waited a few minutes until I was sure they were gone. The direction they went sounded like it was the far left of the club--opposite side of the spiral staircase that’s both the entrance and exit. I think there's a secret back entrance where they were because when I came out it was completely empty.”

Kaz found the secret back entrance. Camouflaged as a bookcase. He was able to spot the hinges carefully placed to where the light made it difficult to see them. But Kaz Brekker knew the art of illusion in the back of his hand. 

“This is what’s going to happen,” he became serious. The Crows lean in to hear him while maintaining their alert. “We need to expose those snakes from their enclosure. They’ll be our bait. From there we wait. If my theory is correct, those snakes only answer to their master. Or charmer in this case.” Kaz paused to locate the female workers in the club. “Her act as an employee is a ruse.”

Jesper followed his gaze, once again becoming riddled with unease. “You’re implying the Snake Charmer is either the bouncer who let us in, the gal who served our drinks, the serving girls working the floor or one of the poker dealers?”

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, Jesper.”

“Why would she do that?”

Nina snorted, sipping at her whiskey, “Isn’t it obvious?” she didn’t wait for an answer, “no one would pay a second glance to a worker. They are either too drunk or too naive to assume the pretty bartender or serving girl is the boss of one of Ketterdam’s deadly gangs.” She gestured to the serving girl closest to her. “My money’s on her being the Charmer.”

Jesper scoffed, “no way. To be a ghost and retain anonymity all these years you have to have a great poker face.” He states the obvious, “it’s one of the dealers.” 

Inej rolled her eyes, “are you seriously making this a competition?”

“You don’t think it could be the bouncer?” Wylan asked, scratching the back of his neck to relax the tension he felt. 

“No,” Jesper replied with a wave of a hand, “that would be obvious, don’t you think? Although….,” he rubs his chin, “considering they let us in -- and we know how much you and the Snake Charmer have been rivals so to speak all these years, boss -- you don’t think by letting us through that we walked into some sort of trap?”

Inej immediately straightened, “Jes has a point.” Nina stopped munching on her calamari, waiting for Kaz. She too realized the potential threat.

Kaz, however, remained relaxed. “It’s not the bouncer, but I know the Charmer has already been notified of our presence.” Wylan’s worry intensified.

“What makes you think that?”

“As we’ve been talking I noticed all the women working the club have interacted at some point. Some making it obvious to point us out,” He was referring to the bouncer nodding her head to the one serving girl. “Others are more discreet.” That was to the poker dealer and bartender. 

“And yet,” Jesper groans. “You still want us to make a scene. We are literally in a place crawling with snakes--pun not really intended.” the table rolled his eyes at him, save for Wylan who found the joke amusing. “Point is….you want to unleash the Snake Charmer’s serpents into a club full of innocent people--.”

“Innocent,” Nina scoffed under her breath. 

“What if one of us gets bitten?” Jesper kept his gaze on Kaz with mild concern. “I don’t believe for a second the Snake Charmer will kindly hand over the antidote to save our lives. She’ll take pleasure in watching us suffer a horrible death.” Picturing the scene, the sharpshooter downs the rest of his drink, cringing in the process. “Saints, this is not how I pictured I’d die.”

Kaz rolled his eyes, “No one’s dying today. No mourners.” Everyone glanced at each other.

“No funerals.”

“Right then,” It was time to work. “Here’s what we’ll do….”

A prayer slipped past his lips before Jesper inhaled deeply and let the bullet fly. The sound caused gasps from around him, though he was quick to hide the weapon in its holster before one noticed.

“Who did that?!” came a shout from the bouncer. Patrons were already making their way toward the exit. Not wanting to get caught in a crossfire. 

Jesper occupied himself with his rum, glancing over his shoulder to Inej, who signaled to him the bullet did not penetrate the glass completely. Sighing, he downed the contents, waited until it was clear, and shot again. 

The second bullet hit the glass with a loud clunk. Once again alerting the occupants of the Snake Pit. Many searched themselves for any sign of blood for fear they were shot by an unknown assailant. 

“C’mon,” Jesper whispered, peering at the enclosure. He saw the evidence of his bullet, a chip in the glass near the bottom. If he could time it right, without someone getting in the way, he’d hit the mark. 

Meanwhile employees of the club were trying to calm the crowd, “everyone please remain--.” Another shot rang out, more shouts echoing. Kaz’s patience was running thin. Their door to escape started to close as he noticed the security begin to close in on the Crows. No doubt suspecting they were to blame for the chaos. 

Kaz Brekker coming to the Snake Pit with his most trusted advisors for only a drink? Yeah right.

Then, almost in slow motion, the sound best described as ice cracking filled his ears. All eyes turned to the enclosure. Fear surfacing as they witnessed spiderwebs painting the glass. Then all hell broke loose when the glass gave way, allowing the beasts freedom from their isolation. 

Screams ensued. People climbing from the floors onto tables and chairs. Hissing from the snakes intensified the hysteria. Kaz even found himself moving when the python pivoted in his direction. Jesper of course found himself on top of a chair the moment the glass shattered. Inej was high up on a balcony on the opposite side of the club. How did she get up there? No one knew. Wyalan was close to Jesper. He too found safety on a stool. Nina meanwhile was listening to the heartbeats around here. The number decreased each time a patron made it up the staircase and out the door. 

Seconds passed and no sight of the Snake Charmer. Kaz was getting worried. Fearing the plan was a failure. His worry increased when he found himself scurrying on top of a poker table. Distracted with trying to find the workers he suspected of being the Snake Charmer to realize the cobra had got close to him. Had he not acted fast, the man’s leg would’ve fallen victim to its fangs. Catching Jesper’s eye, they shared the concern evident in their expressions. Wondering just how the fuck they were going to escape the situation. 

Suddenly his prayers were answered in the form of an angelic voice. Causing the screams to disappear…..

“You’re heading for heaven, 

The sweet old hereafter, 

And I’ve got one foot in the door. 

But before I can fly up, 

I’ve loose ends to tie up, 

Right here in The Old Therebefore.”

Heads turned, facing the direction of the sound. Their expressions turned into pure shock. Kaz may have had his suspicions, but it still came as a shock to discover he was right all along. 

Ketterdam’s notorious crime boss, leader of the Blood Serpents….was the Snake Pit’s bartender. 

Walking around the bar, crunching against the glass of broken bottles on the floor from the hysteria of customers fleeing to get away from the snakes, the woman kept her gaze on slithering animals. The hissing continued as she inched closer, however she did not seem fazed at all. Her singing continued.

“I’ll be along, 

When I’ve finished my song, 

When I’ve shut down the band, 

When I’ve played out my hand, 

When I’ve paid all my debts, 

When I have no regrets, 

Right here in The Old Therebefore. 

When nothing is left anymore.”

The hissing got quieter. The animals turning so they were in line with the woman. Slithering slowly but surely toward her. Confirming to everyone she was their master. Their charmer.

Off to the side, a few of the Blood Serpents rushed in with crates. Pushing people aside. Meanwhile the woman got to her knees, leveling down to the snakes who were now moving toward her. Eyes locked, face serious. The Snake Charmer was obviously trying to keep herself together. But Kaz felt the rage seep off of her. 

“I’ll catch you up, 

When I’ve emptied my cup, 

When I’ve worn out my friends, 

When I’ve burned out both ends, 

When I’ve cried all my tears, 

When I’ve conquered my fears, 

Right here in The Old Therebefore. 

When nothing is left anymore.”

The snakes smaller in size slithered up her outstretched arms. Covering both limbs in a tangle of scales. One slithering up to encase her neck, almost like a necklace. The Cobra took claim to her waist. The python circled her, almost like it contemplated joining its fellow serpents. 

Around Kaz, he made out the faint gasps of customers who had yet to depart. Glancing around, he witnessed them all in states of shock and awe. Even his Crows were at a loss of words. 

As was he.

The Snake Charmer’s voice turned strong. Echoing through the entire club as she belted out the next verse. Bringing chills to everyone’s arms.

“I’ll bring the news, 

When I’ve danced off my shoes, 

When my body’s closed down, 

When my boat’s run around, 

When I’ve tallied the score,

 And I’m flat on the floor, 

Right here in The Old Therebefore. 

When nothing is left anymore.”

Rising from the ground, she was covered by the creatures. Her python has wrapped itself around her leg. Its tail was on the floor while its head perched by where the cobra had secured itself on her belt. From the neck down the Snake Charmer was a sight to behold. Revealing why the nickname was not only because she was the leader of a gang filled with snakes. 

It was because she was gifted with the talent of charming their namesake.

Moving toward her subordinates holding crates, no doubt to keep the animals contained, the woman passionately sang the final verse. Giving it all she had. 

“When I’m pure like a dove, 

When I’ve learned how to love.”

Tone dropping, she leaned to lower the snakes into the crates. Gently as though they were newborn babies. Kaz caught her stoke the pythons head, her singing so low it was good the place was dead quiet. 

Right here in The Old Therebefore. 

When nothing is left anymore.”

Finally, after what felt like forever, the snakes were safely stored in the crates. Lids dropping shut with the gang members hurrying from the floor to transport them to another room. No one moved. Any and all eyes focused on the woman in the pinstripe suit. Back turned to the Crows and other patrons, but from the fearful look of her door bouncers, everyone silently prayed they’d make it to the morning. 

Moving her neck in a circle, a low crack from the joints that had been stiff, she slowly turned to face the audience. A clenched jaw and fury in her eyes made it clear what was going through her mind. Especially to Kaz, who was fighting to not look away when she instantly met his gaze.

Oh, she knew alright.

“Well…” the Charmer’s tone sent chills along the Crows' bodies. “You’ve certainly got my attention, Mr. Brekker.” Her spite was evident. Complete rage. Likely planning every means of torture she wished to bestow on her rival and his comrades. 

It was so quiet. So thrilling. Nobody dared to move a muscle. Patrons watching the stare down between the King, and now the unmasked Queen, of the Barrel. It was captivating yet terrifying. Wondering who would make the first move, and if it will end in a blood bath.

Then she snapped, “Everyone out!!” The floor cleared in seconds. Leaving only Serpents and Crows. They knew better than to attempt an escape. Plus the moment their boss addressed Kaz, the Serpents had circled them to prevent any sudden attack. 

Kaz remained composed. Watching closely as the Snake Charmer moved to the bar to pour herself a drink. “Before I kill you, Kaz Brekker, and your little birds too,” she did not look at him, paying attention to the liquid filling the glass. He tightened his jaw. “I want to hear you explain to me why you brought yourselves to my club,” bringing the glass to her lips, she downed half the alcohol in one gulp. Drawing her eyes up to make contact with him, “And destroyed my babies' home.”

Her footsteps echoed, walking toward the center of the floor where Kaz stood. “You’re a smart man.” She took another sip, this time slower. “Not only did you manage to draw me into the light, but you knew exactly how to do so.” A smirk plastered on Kaz’s face. A bold move considering the threat lingering at displaying his smugness to the Serpent Queen. Her lips were in a thin line, “What brings you to my den?”

Straightening his posture, Kaz stepped closer. Their distance is only a mere foot from one another. Making everyone--Crows and Serpents alike--suffocating from the tension between the two. 

“You won’t be killing us tonight, Charmer.” If only he knew her real name. Only having her title felt like she had some reign on him. Superior in a sense. The whole Barrel knew him as Dirtyhands, but Kaz Brekker had his own reputation. For her, people can now put a face to the name Snake Charmer. A beautiful woman with the voice of an angel. So powerful it made snakes bend to her will. 

Also, people would be shaken by the fact the deadly gang leader served them drinks during their visits to the Snake Pit. Hidden in plain sight. Listening to them spill their drunken secrets. 

Kaz leaned closer, the scent of her perfume hitting his nostrils. Jasmine. A flower known to attract snakes. He understood why she wore it. The smell was alluring. As was her presence, but Kaz dismissed the thought as quick as it came. “Doing so will result in you losing an important job I’m willing to negotiate your assistance on. Believe me, the reward is more than generous--enough for the both of us to share.” Now he got her attention, confirmed by the way her head slightly tilted, brow raised. 

“Humor me, Brekker.”

“Have you ever heard of jurda parem?”

[pixieswashere]

OUR LOVE ︱A Skyvik SS Story

SUMMARY: After Sky and Viktor take part in hosting for the Innovator's Competition at the Last Drop for the young brilliant minds of the Undercity, their bond begins to grow as they both start to feel that the spark between them has grown into something extraordinary. WARNINGS: slight mentions of drugs and child labor. CONTAINS: Fluff, Romance, Dancing, Takes place in the Anomaly!AU with slight changes? WORD COUNT: 4.7K A/N: This is a special gift to @andy-skull , I apologize for the late arrival of your gift as I had experienced an outage in my area. Wishing you a Merry Christmas and happy holiday! Also an honorable thanks to @biby-24k for organizing the Skyvik SS and all the people that participated in this event. I hope you enjoy reading this!

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏, The spark's shine reflected against Viktor's pair of goggles as he kept fixing the engine between the small mechanical gears. He clicked his tongue as he watched the engine stopped working as soon as it had begun to show signs of improvement. After further observation, he figured the problem had to do with the motor failing to generate more power every time he ran the tests, with furrowed brows in pensive thought....Could one of his earlier revisions have been wrong? Impossible.....Or Perhaps it was the quality of the materials he was using for the machine?

As a tired annoyed sigh left him, he could faintly hear the door to his silent abode open softly a familiar voice accompanying at hearing the sound of a small greeting toward him. Hands holding her journal, Sky embraced the tranquility and ambience in the air of the old workshop. Her head spinning with many thoughts concerning the day's duties and knowing all that had happened. She had imagine desperately trying to brush it off.....but even for a moment where she tried to keep a bright outlook on any situation that occurred down here, there was just some things she couldn't ignore....or shake the gnawing feeling that weighted on both her mind and shoulders.

Ever since Silco had established himself as a chembaron, the Lanes and the people of the Undercity had become more divided than ever....Some chose to give their loyalty to the rising overlord after Piltover kept sending more enforcers each year that passed, while others sought the safety and guidance from the Hound of the Underground to keep the peace. It didn't help that a rampant drug known as Shimmer had become to grow little by little among the Lanes. All of this, no matter how common it had been, deeply troubled her knowing the risks that could arise....Trying to ease the stress, she walked inside the workshop before spotting Viktor at his desk.

"A new project you're working on?" Sky asked softly with piqued curiosity and interest as she stood behind him the journal in her arms, with a soft smile on her lips. The sight of seeing her partner in his own space of comfort and thoughts, making all of her recurring worries disappear.

At the sound of her voice, Viktor's shoulder's relaxed from their tense state before he then answered, "It's a prototype...." Viktor explained with as he..... "I had found some old books that had contained information and history on Golems. Some having dated during Janna's awakening....and others from old inventors of the past."

Her eyes glimmered as she watched the ambitious inventor ramble on his discoveries. These projects had meant a lot to him as it was to her, although having him share it with such passion and wonder made it all the more meaningful....

"You're recreating...Golem Technology?", She asked in awe at the realization as she gazed at the blueprints and notes he had written down in to the mechanism of his, "That's incredible."

"Precisely.", He responded with a simple hum as he then elaborated, "I figured a mechanism like this could help prevent further chemical disasters and damages from occurring...."

Whirring sounds snapped her out her thoughts, followed by the tiny pitter patters of feet from where she stood as she gazed at the small Poro, its tongue sticking out with a happily purring chirp. The wheels of his back legs rolling softly, before the three-fingered metal claw strapped to his back raised up carrying a bag of tools.

"Look at you, our little helper.", She commented at the small creature with a giggle, her heart melting. In no haste, the Poro with a chirp let his tongue lick her cheek in an attack of slobbering kisses. Before setting the Poro, she gave him a small treat she had been saving this whole time while at the market....

"You're spoiling him."Viktor muttered in unamusement, but the faintest twitch where his pretty mole adorned and rested above the corner of his lips betrayed his attitude.

"He's earned it." She defended softly with a chuckle before adding, "He is doing his part as your assistant, after all"

"Fair enough." Viktor hummed with a little smile of amusement, not wanting to admit the walking furball had won his heart, each day the little creature had assisted in bringing his tools or simply laying on his lap as he worked before the sound of the engine sputtering once more caught his attention again and with a muttering curse turned the switch off.

"Even with all the tests, it still has yet to work successfully....," He commented with a shake of his head before he closed the small door on the engine turning it off...

"Progress is progress.", Sky assured him, wanting to lift his spirits, sensing that this obstacle had been bothering him for awhile, "It will work, I'm sure of it...We can look back at the blueprints together if you'd like?" 

Hearing her offer, his eyes lighting up at her kind generosity and prospect of them working together. He knew Sky had done already so much.....he didn't want to burden her with more troubles than she could handle...After all, any burden involving his troubles or that of his illness, he felt those were only his to carry.....

"That can wait, we have other duties to attend as for the competition this evening after all....," Viktor sighed a bit in as he then glanced after a thought had passed his mind with keen interest and concern, "Speaking of which....How have your pursuits been going so far? Any new insights on your project?"

At his inquiry, Sky couldn't help but feel both thrilled yet slightly at odds with her recent findings. During the last few months, she had begun to notice that some of the plants she grew and study back at her place would wilt or wither by the end of the week, without the aid of a ventilator that Claggor, one of her students had created to house them. Thus, she had started to pursue a new study for her research concerning the Fissure's gases effects on plants and how to prevent it from happening. Most of the conservatories and greenhouses built that housed many flora were owned by The Verazas, a wealthy chembaron family who prided themselves in the development of the Undercity and all of its natural luxuries. With careful consideration, she decided to some of the money she had been saving into renting one of them as her own personal observatory and lab to continue her. Despite the expenses, the new species of flora she had come across was definitely worth it and well spent....

"I feel I'm getting close to a breakthrough but I still need to run a few more trials before I'm completely sure...," Sky replied with a firm grip on hope in that what she had been searching for this whole time would answer all of the issues beforehand, settling her journal on the table in front of him before flipping to the newest observations she had recorded on paper that were up to date. 

"There's this plant, I've found during my trips to the conservatory," She explained staring at the sketch of the flower that had so vividly captured her attention after learning of it's capabilities, "I think this one could have some component that's preventing the gases in the air from wilting it."

"Hm...a plant that could survive under harmful conditions is a breakthrough in itself", Viktor responded with interest and surprise his hands delicately flipping to another page in her journal as his eyes skimmed through the fresh jotted down information with newfound, noticing the little notes she had left and others he had added as input. In every written page, he could feel her determination ruminating from the journal....her inner thoughts, ambitions, and courage in all that she did. He couldn't deny that the respect he held for her had turned into something greater that he couldn't yet put into words but had grown to be fond of....if not great admiration, "Your work is....truly remarkable, y'know." 

At his words, Sky felt her cheeks blossom a bit before adding in amusement and shyly, "You're giving me a lot of credit...." 

"I'm merely recognizing your efforts.", Viktor replied with a genuine smile on his face before he added with enthusiasm, "...This discovery of yours could be a means to preservation. It could even be capable of being used as remedies for the sick...."

As she gazed at the pages of her journal, she couldn't help but let her mind wander the chembarons attacks as well as the looming threat on some parts of the Lanes....

"You think that maybe....we should wait a bit more," Sky mustered with a soft tone towards him, "Make sure that everything is secure before it's official...?"

A look of confusion grazed his exhausted feature, "What do you mean...?

"Viktor....," Sky spoke softly with a small frown already regretting having to bring up her concerns before she then added, "You've seen the state of the Lanes....Silco and his followers won't stop until he has full control. Our work could be put at risk....."

With a look of disbelief, he scoffed a bit with clear confusion that Sky, his partner of all people, would even suggest such a thing.

"We can't just simply postpone our presentation, Sky. Our home is in desperate need of healing. They can't afford more empty promises...more losses....more suffering, while they have nothing to live on but scraps." Viktor spoke in a serious manner, his brows furrowed, with stuborness as well as resentment that burned in his unwavering amber eyes,"Our entire lives we have worked to prove that the fate of the Undercity is not set in stone...and we have the choice to do so now."

Whilst his frustrating words rang heavy in the air, the harsh reminder of their shared burden cut her deep into her soul. For many years, Sky knew how cruel working in the mines was.....she had seen the consequences of that happened to so many of the children from her youth being worked to the bone....and as did they're shared blood or anyone that came before them now forgotten. How could she blame him for wanting to take the highest leap across for their dreams when they both had to endure the tribulations that a life in the Undercity all had but to offer? His parents were humble artisans that started from just working in the factories and struggled to put food on the table, while her family worked in the markets selling what they could spare and were given rusted cogs for change. They all worked tireless every night.....and soon enough, the scarce fruits of their labor had passed down to them, and so did every child as well ....it really wasn't fair.

"We do, and we will....I just don't want everything that we've worked so hard to change, to end up falling into the wrong hands...." Sky confessed earnestly to him as they both stood eye to eye trying to reason with him, "I don't want our students or your work to be put at stake...."

The frustration laced on his face soon melted as he watched the concern that was clear as day on her face. They both knew they never doubted the other's contributions or morals when it came to their work......and he knew that if they didn't act now, things would only end up worse than before. This needed to change for good....It had to.

"Our dream won't be lost in vain, Sky."

As if his mind read hers, His hands had reached to hers that rested in front of her, his calloused thumb running over her knuckles with a soothing motion. The action surprised her, but she felt herself lean into his touch while she felt her heart skip a beat at the intimate gesture.

"This academy is going to save lives....and rebuilt new ones that we could never have imagined to be possible before," He comforted her, his hands holding hers with a gentle squeeze. Before he then stated firmly, "We won't let anything destroy it or harm anyone, I promise...."

With those final words from him, Sky felt her shoulders relax before staring at the sketches of the Academy, staring at her like a beacon of salvation.....

"I know...and I have faith it will bring something better to our home."

The tender moment was interrupted as the door opened, revealing their two familiar apprentices entering the workshop. At the sound of newcomers, the Poro got up from the pillow he was resting on and approached them, his little tongue still sticking out as he waved his small claw at them with a chirp running around them in circles. Reaching down to pet the creature, Ekko greeted, "Hey, Professor V... and Professor Young."

"Ekko...Powder, what a surprise." Sky greeted her two students with a smile, the moment still lingering in the air as her fingertips grazed where his fingertips touched.

"Thought we'd pay a quick visit before we head out to the Last Drop."

"You're both invited to the afterparty, you should come....it's your event too y'know." Powder added with a smile, a hand on her hip before petting Sprocket as she watched him eat the canned food from the food bowl that had been decorated in messy doodles.

"Thank you, Powder but...I'm eh... going to be busy with a few....things," Viktor replied softly, declining the kind gesture from the two as he gazed back at the table were his blueprints sat.

"C'mon V, you've been working on your projects nonstop....," Ekko argued with a groan, his arms crossed clearly showing concern for his teacher's lack of, before adding with a quirked brow, "Isn't the entire point of building for the future about also finding the chance to enjoy it?"

"I enjoy my work, Ekko....but with it comes the responsibilities too.," Viktor responded with calm yet reasoning tone towards his two students and apprentice as he then added in defense, "Besides, I do rest when I can..."

"Does staring at a chalkboard for hours count?" Powder asked in a snarky tone, causing the inventor to lightly glare at her with a clear strict expression in his features.

With a sympathetic smile, Sky intervened with a little smile as she commented, "We'll make sure to stay over for the party...if we can."

"We'll see you at the Last Drop, Professors." Ekko called out as he exited giving the Poro one last pat on the head as he did.

"You sure...uh it will work out." Powder asked Sky, hands at her hips before they settled in front of her crossed with slight unsureness, her eyes fleeting down before they looked to her for reassurance. It wasn't anything unheard of that the young girl, still had her doubts when it came to all the she built in her hands....

"It doesn't hurt to try.", Sky replied before then adding, "Sometimes the good thing about making mistakes.....is that we can find the courage in ourselves to change it."

At this, Powder lips only frowned a bit deeper. "Yeah...I get that....but it still doesn't remove failure from the equation. Just want to save anyone from disappointment...."

"Failure isn't inevitable, Powder...," Sky replied softly with a frown feeling deep remorse for her fears and turmoil, as she went to her side, ".....but it isn't irrevocable either. You can do this and so much more."

Hearing this, Powder's eyes soften a bit with a sigh before a small smile replaced her doubtful frown. She hummed still pensive about submitting her invention to the competition from her own personal grievances before giving a curt yet gentle response, "I suppose, I'll give it a shot....Thanks"

"...Anytime.", Sky hummed in reply with comforting nod to her.

Turning her heel towards the door, the blue-haired teen left after Ekko, with a bit of on her but not before saying her final words as she exited the workshop to the tired professor who had sat back in his chair.

"Offer is still open, V!"

"Not happening."

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Time had passed, and it was without a doubt the time to finish up any preparations before the event started. While Powder and Mylo argued on whose invention was the best, Claggor was busy making sure that all of the inventions were placed safely atop the display pedestals....and that nothing blew up while they bickered at each other. With a shake of her head at their antics, Sky examined the entire room from where she stood...The banner atop of the stage decorated with balloons and props that some of the students took the liberty in helping out with. They both thought Powder, having talked to Vander into helping in setting up the event at the bar, was sweet, even though she did insist they could've held it elsewhere to avoid trouble. It was surreal how far Viktor and her came to be.....and seeing it all so clear right in front of her made her faith in their dream grow stronger each day.

Sooner or later, people started showing up at the bar. All the onlookers and participants are awaiting the competition to commence. Standing at the side of the stage, Sky held her notes, reciting every word like she was pledging a peaceful vow by heart.

"Whenever you are ready," Viktor replied as he then added. "I'll be here."

"Thank you.," Sky commented back to Viktor with a visible smile and a little more confidence than previously as she went up the stairs.

It's now or never

"Good eve-" The microphone screeched a bit like nails on a chalkboard before she fixed it clearing her throat with slight bashfulness as she added once more, "G-Good evening and welcome."

Organizing the speech papers, her eyes scanned the room once more before taking a few deep breaths before then continuing with her opening.

"First, I want to thank everyone that has contributed to this year's Innovator's Competition.", She started as she spotted Vander's kids and Ekko waving at her in response, along with a few of their peers.

"I know things haven't been always been the easiest....and it only seems like with every ancestor, family or friend that has passed on, we're only growing more lost in these dark times," She continued with a sympathetic frown as she then added with a bit more seriousness , "....but we've seen the hard work brilliant minds can do with every invention....every idea....and every person behind them with the potential of something far greater that we thought would be unreachable."

"Which is why me and my partner Viktor are aiming to strive against all odds for the chance at something better......" 

Stepping to the side, she gestured to with a kind nod to him, before Viktor slowly walked out of the shadows into the basking light and onto the stage with his crutch to clearing his throat before them. 

"We know progress can not be achieved in a day, but after seeing all of your hard-earned contributions in this very room year after year....we believe it can grow in union.", Viktor spoke with ease and to the people with a calm yet confident tone before he then stage, "So we want to give the opportunity of sharing a glimpse to the endless possibilities of the future....A new and brighter future."

"We present to you - The Academy of Techmaturgy."

A long banner fell down from the top of the curtains behind them to reveal a painted mural and replica of the Academy by one of the young volunteers that helped in their showcase. The hues of green and purple meshed together to create a beautiful display of the Undercity's culture that left the onlookers speechless at the foreign picture of the building.....that was unlike anything they had seen before

"The Academy doors will be open to any brilliant mind in search of the pursuit of knowledge and development." Sky announced as she then added with a more courageous tone in her spirit, "It will house departments for all fields of study of science and artistry...and we'll be organizing events such as this one."

"With all the tribulations we've faced...we have proved our perseverance is limitless against hardships." Viktor declared before adding with encouragement, "...and we believe with this foundation that the Undercity can prosper and will forever for generations to come.

A chorus of cheers and claps echoed across the crowd, with some of the students even at the proposition. At the sight, Viktor and Sky's smile and souls rejoice looking at each other with shared sentiment. Afterwards, Sky with with bright smile closer the speech of their showcasing:

"May the competition commence and the best of luck to all of you." 

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Hours had passed inside, the contestants each presenting their inventions and their functions as the crowds looked with heavy interest. The tension was definitely brewing amongst . It was definitely hard to pick a victor, when there were so many. In first place, Claggor won with his invention of ventilator that helped in reviving plants and purifying toxic chemicals from the soil. For second place, Ekko for his hoverboard carrier invention which aided in transportation of tools and cargo. Lastly, the award for third place was given to a young boy named Russel who created a drilling system that aided the miner's in their work

As the competition came to a close, a few additional ribbons had been passed to student's whose inventions were innovative and unique in recognition of their best efforts and work. The Explorer's Journey Ribbon was given to a contestant named Roger for his compass that could track down metals and minerals. The other, was the Path to Progress Ribbon which was given to Powder for her creative machine gun that could shoot paint.

Rewinding the day's events in her head, Sky had left to look presentable for the afterparty wanting to celebrate in support for her students....and perhaps have some time to talk to Viktor. Changing from her labcoat into the dress, she brushed the wrinkles of the soft cloth before feeling satisfied with the results of her new appearance. It wasn't anything fancy but with some few simple additions....it was definitely gorgeous in her eyes. Examining herself in the cracked mirror, the hem of her dress flowed softly when she turned and the pastels of blue and white stood out underneath the light. Her curly brown locks that was tied into a bun, flowed freely on both her shoulders with a small flower pin on her hair as the finishing touch.

Walking out from the bar's guest room upstairs, she trailed down carefully, watching as others talked and laughed with each other. The sight made her smile in as her head turned to search for her partner. With Viktor nowhere in sight, Sky felt her heart sink as she stood there......

'He must've really been busy...,' She thought to herself a saddened frown forming in her lips, at Viktor's absence from the bar as she caught no sight of him anywhere. Before she could leave the crowd, She spotted him.....

Their gaze both found each other in complete awe. His appearance was different...his white collar underneath the brown vest and tattered pants, were replaced with a suit and slacks. She approached him speechless before then a few exchanges of words between them.

"Hey..."

"I'm glad you could stay...", Sky added with a little breath of relief and fondness in her chest growing.

"Well....it seemed improper to leave." Viktor replied softly, basking in the everlasting beauty of her, slight twinge of happiness that she had stayed as well,"....and especially if my presence was expected..."

As the band onstage played, couples and walked to the front of the bar to dance. The music resounding in the bad that had everyone in a blissful mood, as they danced with the other....

"They're having fun."

A drink in her hand, Sky commented as she watched as Powder and Ekko danced with smiles in their faces as they both enjoyed themselves. Slowly, her gaze drifted towards Viktor taking note of his features....

His amber eyes that always shone with neverending wonder and determination, holding such sweetness in every soft glance exchanged between them like honey.....his smile that held such pure joy with every discovery or finding he overcame with unbounded pride.....His lips that spoke every word to her like they were laws of truth in every sweet nothings of comfort between them that held his contagious laughter....

As soon as he noticed her glance, the action caused her to look away quickly with a blush in her cheeks, clearing her throat before fixing her glasses.

"Can't remember the last time I've danced..."

Viktor ears perked up at this before he then suggested.

"Would you....care for a dance?"

Sky was clearly taken a back by the bold offer before then gently accepting. "Are you sure...? You'd want to...with me?"

"Well....I must warn you...my skills are quite unmatched.", Viktor told her softly with cockiness yet joking manner in his tone yet with playful pride as she chuckled a bit at his offer.

"Then, I'm more than honored to have this dance with you...," She responded with the same hint of amusement, yet genuinely grateful to have had the chance to dance with him.... her heart beating in her chest. The pair holding hands, the touch absolutely magnetic than ever, walked to the front of the room.

His hand resting below hers, he was the first to take the lead as they swayed slowly to the tune of the music. As they did, something else had ignited within them....

Everything in the room seemed to change into a starry-filled with the colors of thei illuminating the bar like a breathtaking kaleidoscope. Memories flooding of the moments they shared in their youth....filled with laughter, tears, and solace. Twirling a bit, Sky chuckled a bit at the action....making Viktor's brow quirk and smile widen.....

As they danced in sync, between stolen glances and touches....they felt themselves grow closer as they slow danced. Her head resting against his chest....hearing the softest melody of palpitations in his heart that sang to her.

"Nothing feels impossible with you"

"Are you flattering me, Miss Young?" Viktor teased a little in slight surprise yet amusement at Sky's sudden compliment to him, that made her cheeks flush red, the sight causing his lips to turn into a smug grin finding the display both humorous....and quite endearing.

"N-No. I meant it," Sky replied quietly to him as she leaned against but turned her head up to him as she added, "I couldn't have done all of this alone, not without you..."

to hear how much....if not the same he had to her was that he didn't expect and made his own heart race in anticipation.

"I...could say the same for you, Sky.", Viktor uttered the words silently to her as his eyes softened at her confession, his voice soft before he then leant down to lean his forehead against hers, their noses almost brushing.

Their foreheads touching in tenderness, Viktor closing his eyes softly as he let himself succumb to the intimacy of it, even if it was for only this second. As they stood there, Sky stared with yearning in her heart as she reached to caress his cheek, her thumb just brushing the mole softly in the corner of his eye.

Nothing could ever stop the spark of that had inspired the both of them ... when they were in each other's presence. In their times of hardships and triumph, they had each other to turn to..... It's true that there was no telling to what the future could hold for them both, but as they stood there in each other's arms, they felt that rush of freedom and accomplishment that was beyond compare....and one that no words could describe such a beautiful feeling as this one.

All the things they did and did together....whether through sacrifice or successes.

It was all for love.

[gege-wondering-around]

Random Snippet

cause why there are no more tagging on wips wednesdays and such for me, i'm a sad author now (im just being dramamtic, do what you want i'll post my brainrot regardless <3)

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“What a bitch for attention, I never thought Hale would be into that…” 

But little did those lowlife men know about the secret untangling before their very one blinded eyes.

Sat on the man’s lap, perhaps or not, just for the sake of the act, softly spoken orders swam through the boss’ ears, chanting choruses of victories yet to arrive but sure to come; especially so if led by the quiet guy crossing his legs so deliciously on the newfound dominating spot he had acquired.

“Send them down to the barracks, down the sewers; through the underground they should all arrive without much hitch to the target.” 

What plans his doll could craft, high of a labor almost close to his own and for which he thrived to witness in actions, uncaring of possible contingencies; Derek would do anything to achieve to behold that painter’s smirk his boy made anytime some sort of joy occupied his veins.

Besides, restraining himself from giving such a divine doll everything he wanted was impossible; he’d do anything if it meant having Stiles cradling arms around his neck, almost relaxing while on display for everyone to envy, being caressed with everyone looking. His boy seemed to control his blushing cheeks only on business occasions, or he’d be flattered by the rough pals stroking his thigh.

Still, Stiles wanted to test how far he could pursue Derek to act according to his will, empowering his position for everyone to see with unfazed eyes; some more blood on his slim hands wouldn’t be too bad, cold season was about to arrive and they had yet another hour to pass by.

Another thin, although pleading wish drilled through the man’s ears: “I don’t like how they speak of your doll, Sir.” 

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@patolemus my sweet, adored moot, this is very little but i hope you'll enjoy this while you wait so patiently for the whole thing to be born (thanks again for your offering children🫂)

and since who says i can't, if anyone wanna post a 'random snippet' please do - and im gonna tag people cause why not - , still who can stop me from tagging my beloveds anyway as well @dontcallpanic @hellameyers @patolemus @seaweed-water @demonicfaerie @oldefashioned @jadezdominion @sterekloverforever

so, if you wanna join in the 'random snippet' please do!

p.s. if you saw any mistakes, you didn't <3

[hollow-lime-green]

Can you tell us a little about your D&D stuff? -sincerely an avid dnd player who loves hearing about other people’s characters

aaaa sure!

briefly - when I do actually get to be a player, I fucking love playing rogues. god i am so basic and easy, catch me playing a tiefling/changeling rogue 100% of the time. i am a power gamer though, and i'll take a lot of feats to do all sorts of weird bullshit (and the 2024 thief buffs are going to make me insufferable. fast hands has always been my favorite ability in the game, and now thief is finally good for real and not just by dm fiat).

i like every class except artificer and monk (fine just not for me), but rogues have my heart. in every game, skyrim to borderlands to d&d, I like being a pain in the ass from a long distance away. i don't get to play a lot, so i don't have a lot of characters that i'm super tied to, but right now, i'm essentially playing a cabal of tiefling/changeling rogues (one for every subclass) that are running the underground of my friend's city in a westmarch style progressive series of oneshots he hosts at our local game store.

mainly, though, i have always been a perma-dm of my groups, although I am trying to find a group that rotates better because as it turns out, being a perma-dm can absolutely fuck with your interpersonal relationships. i had a really awesome d&d group in undergrad that I DM'd for, and I have a lot of great memories from that. we played on campus for the first two years, then on roll20 for a few more years after that. unfortunately, as most d&d groups do, we died to the BBEG known as Adult Life Schedules.

since then, I've been DMing semi-regularly at a local game shop, sometimes playing, and I've made a lot of in-person friends. we play both at and outside of the shop, but almost all one-shots, although when I eventually move away from this current location, I will probably try to drag them into an online campaign. lots of dm talk and pictures under the cut, since this will be kind of long. :)

Props!

as a dm, i am very prop focused, i love a good prop. it's the engineer girlie in me. sat night I ran a 12th level one shot for my friends to test out some of the new 2024 rules at high level, and what I'm most proud of was my hidden magnet bridge (see below) - this is a progress pic but I do generally keep my sets pretty minimal aesthetically. anyway this was super fun because i set it up as this precarious bridge that they needed to get across and do some puzzles (hence the set), and then i ambushed them with the hidden magnets (actual reason for the set).

this is one of my faves from maaaaany years ago. i could do it better if I tried it again, but it's tough. this was for an encounter where an enemy was locally changing the direction of gravity, so the set rotated. it was surprisingly stable but difficult to play on due to the fact that you have like 270 degrees of the table that can see and then whoever is behind the wall (the dm) can't see shit. this was during my in-person UG years, so baby engineer but still making it work.

this is something I've done more recently that is more minimalist but insanely effective as a minigame. i had some players navigating through a space field, so they had to plot a course through this minefield and peel off the tape stickers one by one to see if they hit a danger. again, left is a progress pic. they all got blacked out. the right one was actually my dm key during the session lol, so I knew what they were gonna hit before they hit it.

I do a lot of mini prop pieces to go on top of my battle map as terrain, mostly cardboard just to give height and make things a bit more dynamic. and i'll usually have some lair action that rotates or takes away some of that terrain. one other thing I'm playing around with is this plexiglass transparent overlay designed for water combat, so I can put biiiiiig bad guys underneath the party. that one is for a oneshot based on the game DREDGE (which I highly recommend by the way - fishing survival cozygame with an eldritch monstrous flair). this lighthouse works as a sanity indicator, so as the party loses sanity (due to the eldritch fish), I can change its color.

i have no idea how i've run this game like 7 times and yet I can't find any pictures of it, but I have a one-shot that is based on Potion Permit (another farming sim cozygame) where the players collect these tiny cardboard tetris pieces and have to use them to complete tetris piece recipes to make potion and Save The Town From Illness! players love a prop, players love a minigame, and i love running those things as well.

Characters!

I have a lot of DMPCs that I love from my long campaigns, but DMPCs can be irritating, so i have shifted away from character-driven things for my oneshots. when I go back to doing campaigns, I'm going to try to do them better? I don't know, getting people invested in OCs whether it's writing or ttrpg is always sort of a challenge. players get invested in the bonds between the party but not often in their actual NPCs. So I'm not going to yap about them too much, but I'll list the concepts of my fave DMPCs:

blind bard who sees through a force field cantrip like cat whiskers - later becomes a seer (like divination) at the cost of losing his blindsight due to Player-Caused Apocalypse. becomes an unwilling consort to an archdevil who rules the wastelands after Player-Caused Apocalypse.

red hag who used a wish spell to free herself of pacts of loyalty but as a consequence cannot form lasting relationships with any creature, and cannot wish again. trying to make a Deck of Many Things to get more wishes and fix this (doomed)

half-fey archer with the mantle of the summer court trying to avenge her parents killed by the winter court, warrior softened by the touch of a woman (autumn fey cottagecore mom friend with an aussie accent). they were fun because the party actually got really invested in them and they got to complete their love story :)

spellthief rogue champion of the gods caught in a messy 'the parents are fighting' situation where the aspects of law and chaos fight. she is going to make a return when i start my next campaign because it's going to be a time loop situation, and she'll be the one resetting the timeline and trying to make off-screen changes (killing monarchs, planting magic items) to affect the future.

[suzukiblu]

WIP Wednesday Game

Taken from @kedreeva.

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

file names:

Kon is too trans for this pregnancy shit

the one where Clark is trans and Kon is not

transfemme Kon and her Amazon soulmoms

Cassie has a sexuality crisis, Kon has a gender one, and Circe makes everything worse

the one where Kryptonians have omegaverse genders, but nobody told Match

( why yes this week is WIP Wednesday: Sex And Gender Is Weird And Complicated Edition™ )

snippet from "Kon is too trans for this pregnancy shit":

Kon slams his bedroom door just shy of hard enough to crack the doorframe, melts the pregnancy test in his hand into slag with his heat vision, and then throws its remnants into his trash can and hides in his bed. Because he’s pregnant. Because he’s an idiot. An idiot who is pregnant. Pregnantly. 

Fucking Christ alive, how could he be this fucking stupid?! 

Just–Kon has fucked up a whole lot of times in his life. This time is probably the worst time that didn't get somebody else hurt, though. Well, like. Not hurt-hurt. 

Somebody is definitely getting hurt here. 

Kon kind of just . . . doesn't tell people that he's . . . that he isn't technically . . . 

He flirts? A lot? Like, a lot more than he really should. But he flirts with girls a lot. And he is very, very careful about how close he lets those girls get. And he . . . and he . . . 

Just–when he actually wants laid, when he really gets the itch, he doesn't go out as Superboy.

There's a reason he never got anywhere with Cassie, after all. Or with Tana or Knockout. Or with . . . anyone he ever actually, like . . . gave an actual fuck about the opinion of or was gonna see again. 

He’s not a real guy, after all, so . . . so how could he have? He’s not . . . 

When Cadmus was still a thing, he didn't have to worry so much. It wasn't hard to get treatment and whatever, and his files were all very firmly locked down. And when Cadmus went underground, Serling deleted all those files and hooked him up with a little machine that replicates hybrid-appropriate T before she cleared out, because Serling is the fucking best like that and literally the one true ally, as far as Kon's concerned, so . . . yeah. And the replicator has mercifully kept working for him, at least so far, so all he's ever had to do was hide the thing in the back of his closet and make sure the Kents never catch him pulling any of the blue K needles out of their little lead-lined case or injecting himself with said needles. Fuck knows what they'd think if they ever did. 

Probably that he was a drug addict or something. That seems like the most logical conclusion for them to jump to. They sure as shit know he's not diabetic or anything like that, so . . . yeah. 

They'd definitely think he was a drug addict. 

He's sure Clark would, if nothing else. 

Although that'd probably be less of a disaster than this, really. At least if he was an addict, he could go to rehab or something. For this . . . 

What is he supposed to do about this?

[busycucumbermelon]

Five vampire siblings, with one obsession

Summary : you never thought that your standoff-ish attitude and how you learned to behave at Sunshine Academy would backfire on you, especially in this way: having five people obsessed with you was far from easy.

Warning: blood,broken bones, very traumatized reader, vampires, threatening, sketchy jobs/illegal jobs, tell me if I missed any

Description of a Demi humans just in case Demi-humans once looked like animals, but have morphed over generations into human-like beings with animalistic features. story starts below this.I hope you love it or at least like it.🥰😊

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Author note

If you want a series or something with these characters, please give me ideas or requests as I'm not really sure what to do with them. Additionally, if you see that I have misspelled any names or the spelling isn't similar, please let me know as I'm unsure how to properly spell them and have been winging it myself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since you were six, you lived at Sunshine Academy, trained with Demi-human to serve owners. Occasionally, they allowed humans for tests, experiments, or their underground fighting ring, where many patrons enjoyed watching humans being pummeled to the ground. You survived it all, but the Academy decided to sell you off since you weren't making enough money for them. Everyone knew you'd survive, which ultimately led you to your current situation.

With your best friend becoming a  servant, to two of your five new owners - although you preferred to call them kidnappers - you struggled to adapt to this new life as one of their prized possessions.

Sadly, your indifference toward pain, your fighting skills, your ability to quickly solve problems, and your inability to be vulnerable with anyone besides your best friend - their servant - ultimately ended up pushing them all to the point of obsession. In their minds, you had no flaws except for that one: you didn't know how to be vulnerable with anyone other than your best friend. To them, you were the perfect plaything, and they used your skills and talents for their own benefit.

You also had a good mouth on you, and you weren't afraid to argue back with anyone, especially if you knew you were in the right. This often resulted in all of them being at each other's throats, which could be seen as both a win and a loss for them, and you.

This was a good opportunity to teach them how to share, which of course annoyed all of them. The only reason they were all together was because their mother had important news to share that she wanted to tell them at the right moment. In the meantime, the siblings tried to just sit it out so they could inherit the house. Well, it was not a house—it was a castle, and now, they had to deal with each other's constant presence on a daily basis, which was making them go stir-crazy.

Milmira and Marissa were the oldest siblings, and they were the new owners of your previous best friend, and still your best friend. This meant you spent a lot of time around the two of them, and luckily, they didn't feel like changing the name you had given him (Reiner) so that's the name he stuck with.

When you and Reiner first met, he was the same age as you—four years old. However, he had already been taken from his parents and sold into the Sunshine Academy.

Reiner was a ram Demi-human, and surprisingly enough, the two of you got along pretty well. Reiner was also the main reason you met some of your other friends back at Sunshine Academy.

Reiner, he became a servant to two people who would constantly interrupt your conversations and override the fact that the two of you were even talking. These two people would tell Reiner to either leave the room or to go do a menial task for them. Due to Sunshine Academy's intensive training, Reiner had a sense of loyalty and commitment, and he would do whatever he was told.

Marissa and Milmira were the only twins in the group, and they were used to sharing everything, including you. Without your knowledge, they had come to an agreement that they would also be sharing you. However, this arrangement felt like a complete surprise to you.

That's when you felt that you needed to take a break from them, or, well, try to do so to the best of your abilities. Even though you tried to find ways to distance yourself from them, the siblings had a discussion and decided to take away the room you had been designated. This meant you would have to hop rooms and sleep with one of the siblings or with a servant. However, luckily, you had made a bond with a few servants, which made your situation a little more bearable.

Occasionally, a sweet otter from the kitchen would allow you to share her bed or sleep on the floor in her room. You didn't mind sleeping on the ground, as it was something you had often done at Sunshine Academy. In addition, there was an overly clumsy deer who would let you sleep in his room at times, although it depended on whether he wanted you to or not. Of course, if neither of them wanted you to sleep with them, you would have to go to one of the siblings' rooms or Reiner's.

At times, when you would put up a fit, Reiner would get punished for it. This happened because the punishment would hit close to home for you. Additionally, since your training at the Sunshine Academy made you used to pain from them, they couldn't punish you by breaking bones or anything of that nature.

After a week of being standoffish and grumpy, while Reiner tried to calm you down and get used to his role as a servant, the twins instituted your first punishment: You don't remember much of the punishment itself, except Melmira giving you a soft apology before her fist met your ribs. Although you barely even said anything besides a small "Oh," you felt the crack and heard it, but you didn't move a muscle or indicate any signs of pain.

This unsettled all of them, as they were used to humans screaming in pain, while you just sat there. You didn't even move to stop her hand.

The twins each had very different reactions, as they were used to sharing everything, feelings included. Melissa, on one hand, was torn between feeling awfully proud and excited to see what else you could do, while simultaneously worrying what Sunshine Academy had taught you, as you were a human who shouldn't have been there in the first place. On the other hand, Milmira also felt worried and tried to bring up the topic, only for Melissa to brush it off.

In contrast, Milmira was worried about your closeness to Reiner from the beginning, as your attachment to him hinted at possible unresolved attachment issues. After she had broken your ribs, she became even more certain that something had happened at Sunshine Academy that the rest of the world was not aware of. Milmira was the more gentle and considerate twin.

Marissa and Melissa had vastly different reactions to seeing one of the siblings getting in trouble or drama occurring. While Melissa often wanted to stay out of it or watch from the sidelines, Marissa would cheer it on and add fuel to the fire. Meanwhile, whenever you tried to tell her that these situations aren't anything to be happy about, her excitement would often overpower any reasoning.

This was one of the reasons why the twins often got into long fights with their siblings, as well as one of the reasons they didn't like being in the castle—they were used to traveling and going wherever they liked. This would also be beneficial for their careers, although they had never told you about them, as none of them really informed you about their respective careers.

After a few days, you started to figure out more about them. You were used to studying people, especially since you held a high rank at the Sunshine Academy. On a few occasions, you slipped up and mentioned that you knew more than they had told you, and although no one said anything, your actions implied that you had been watching and studying them quietly.

Although Marissa never really noticed or paid attention to this, Melissa actually did take note. At first, Melissa thought you might just have a good memory or be observant, but now she had her suspicions. She knew that something was up, but she wasn't sure exactly what it was yet. She also didn't know if her siblings had discovered it either.

Krollien also discovered this, and he was the next to give you a punishment. However, before that happened, he decided to give you time for your ribs to heal and see if he could investigate your mysterious past and figure out what it was that you were hiding.

Krollien took this time to get to know you, much to the dismay of his head servant Jessie. You soon learned that Reiner was the twins' head servant, which meant he would have to be around them 24 seven, further limiting his interactions with those outside of this seemingly exclusive group.

This new information made you even more hyper aware of your surroundings, and how the rest of your stay would likely go, although none of them truly saw or noticed anything. You were, after all, quite good at bottling up your emotions, even with them all spending so much time with you.

Just one thing, to continue occupying your mind: why was everyone so upset about being in the castle, and why were they all supposed to be in the castle in the first place? Whatever it was, it seemed like it was taking forever...

While you wanted to figure out everyone and how you fit into their weird life, you knew you'd have to start with Krollien. Even though he was in a bad mood, his mood seemed to lighten when you were around. You soon realized that he hated being in the castle and seeing his siblings everywhere.

Whenever you tried asking him a direct question such as, 'How do you fit in to all of their weird lives? If they were all so obsessed with you and hated each other, how would they share?' He would simply laugh it off and tell you that you'd see in due time.

When he wasn’t trying to spend time with you, he was budgeting and doing other things you didn’t really understand. budgeting especially because at the time he was using terms, you didn’t get understand

In the middle of falling asleep,you would learn he ended up taking a vineyard to live in from one of his clients after not paying him back. this was when you started to have a grasp on what he actually did for work.

You thought you were pretty good at math so occasionally you’d offer to help him with something math involved. this was usually to Jesse’s dismay. as Krollien would always tell her to go away, so he could talk to you for a little bit free of interruptions

Even though this would often result in you teasing Krollien about his nickname for Jesse, which was "Bunny," something that he felt was supposed to demean her, you thought it was romantic and sweet, and you would occasionally bring it up when he annoyed you or if you wanted to annoy him in return. This would often make him frustrated and slightly embarrassed, and his response to this would always make you laugh.

Krollien’s frustration stemmed from the fact that his little sister, Lilybet, would often make the same joke before he left the castle. Although he might have found it amusing at first, it eventually began to grate on his nerves, especially as she continued to do it again and again.

The more she and lilybet got to know each other, the more she started to understand her circumstances. Lilybet didn't have a job outside of training servants - unlike her siblings who all had different illegal and legal jobs. When she wasn't training servants, she was mostly just trying to be the perfect daughter - something her mother did by having her wear very frilly dresses, which she constantly complained to you about.

Now she was starting to understand her siblings' worries, but she decided she would not worry about it too much and simply continue to get to know you. She was still competing with her siblings to see who’s official pet you would be - even though their mother told them to share, they all knew they weren't going to do that.

She especially hated the constant comments from her younger brother, Silus. Although they lived in the same house, there was still a sort of rivalry between them. All of the other siblings had already left and created their own estates, but the two of them remained there, waiting until their mother died to see who would get the estate. Still, this didn't mean there wasn't a lot of tension between them, with Silas always blackmailing her, and she doing the same in return.

Lily had a confusing behavior. After a hard, rough day, she wasn't usually very cuddly and often just wanted everyone to stay away from her. However, she let you stay. Occasionally, she wouldn't let you leave her arms after a really rough day. She would only get more and more annoyed if it wasn't her day with you.

Lilybet genuinely adored you, but when she had heard about her siblings hypotheses of your past could be she was less interested in how it affected you mentally and more about how it changed you physically. She knew you had a pain tolerance that was almost unbelievable. What else could you do? You didn't even flinch when your ribs were broken.

She brought you along on head servants' tests and training - occasionally giving references. One day, she decided that you would be the challenge - not as a real threat, but simply to teach the servants not to judge an opponent simply based on appearances. It happened only once, and something in you did change, although it was brief. For a second, Lilibet was genuinely scared for the servant's life.

Another person also saw you that day - albeit out of curiosity and a bit of fear. You're different than anything else that has ever been created or painted, making you much more intriguing. This made you even more special and the perfect subject to paint.

 Silas was an avid fan of art, specifically his interest in humans. He was very much into tattoos and the beauty of the human body. However, his tattoo-covered body always caused distress among his siblings and the mother. Still, he made it his goal in his business to show exactly that - the beauty of life in all its natural forms.

To you, his way of showing his affection to the world was definitely not beautiful. Silas would beg to differ, though, your days with him were mostly spent with him painting you. While he was kind of.... To put it simply, rude, his head servant told you that this is simply his way of showing he liked you. If he didn't, you would have been dead by now.

Silas didn’t praise often, and he was always filled with snarky responses; teasing manners; and occasional compliments on your features whenever he was painting you. In general, he was rude, and just a person you liked to stay away from. Unfortunately, you were now his household pet. While that word was very demeaning and beneath your status - no, you refuse to believe it - it seemed to be true.

You were not claiming yourself to be above any of the other servants in any way, shape or form. You didn't understand why this was happening to you. Why you had to be the chosen pet? Why not some other human? Why you?

Anyways, let's go back to Silus. We can talk more about the mental torment later.

Silas is very different compared to his siblings. He doesn't care what his mother thinks, and he barely cares about any of his siblings' opinions. His relationships with his siblings are relatively good besides Krollien - the two are completely different and hate each other, as they are complete opposites.

Just like the rest of his family members, he was not exactly a morning person. Silus was also different than his siblings when it came to restraining his strength with you, perhaps because of your past. Whatever the reason, he had a good excuse to not hold back when he was with you.

Whenever you tried to move out of his grasp, he would either pull you closer or tighten his grip on your waist. The twins would always comment on the purple hand marks on you, each sibling having their own way of putting their mark on you. However, these hand marks would last until you were with Silas again, right before he renewed them. These marks weren't even fully healed before they appeared again

Though the marks were not sexual in nature, you hated just lying there in bed. Silas, on the other hand, would happily stay in bed all day, unless it was for his work which he would brag about to you, or when he was painting. You were always his muse, but if you weren't there to model for him, his paintings would usually become inspired by nature instead. The only exceptions were when his siblings intervened because they were not letting him spend all of his time with you.

Silas wasn't always affectionate, but he would show a sudden softer side when it came to you. He would perform actions that were definitely out of character for him, and if anyone made a comment about how he did it for you, but not for someone else, they would not be around for very long afterwards.

Every one of Silas' siblings had their own 'special thing' they would do only for you. This moment only made their mother realize that she may have just made her own life a lot harder. She still saw you as a pet, but she feared that if she didn't have control over all her sons and daughters, they would continue to act as if you were on a pedestal, and she would lose any chance of gaining their true obedience.

Many of the family members, including Lilibet, had opinions on their mother that weren't very positive, many of them negative. Lilibet tried to gain her respect, but it was just for the money, and many of the servants had their own opinions on her - most of the opinions were not positive in the slightest. Their mother knew that you might just be the child who makes them realize that she doesn't offer them as much as they believe. In their minds, she is their mother, after all.

To the mothers, you weren't really much of a threat. You were a lowly human, and she could easily kill you if she wanted to. In the past, she had killed her children's previous human lovers after all. This time, however, something was different. Their infatuation with you quickly grew and turned into an obsession, and they could not seem to get you out of their minds - especially after you became aware of this obsession. It was hard to get five obsessed vampires away from a single human.

[ashoss]

apollo's blessing to babs is that he doesn't smite her for using the Oracle name without asking for his permission first LMAO (i say this as a joke, but i could genuinely imagine apollo saying this to babs when he visits her to test her character. babs resists the urge to roll her eyes or try to argue that she didn't HAVE a way to ask him/didn't know she had to ask in the first place. she's been holding her verbal own against this god; she isn't gonna screw it up now)

but jokes aside, i could see his blessing being related to the idea of that he's a god of knowledge (in the reasoning/self-knowledge kind of way) and supporting the idea that Oracle!babs is a tech expert/information broker. like an "anywhere the light touches, you'll be able to see" sort of thing. any time she's hacking into something and gets hit with a mental block, the connection comes a little faster and the block goes away. if there's a place she's trying to get a visual on, she'll be able to find a camera/microphone/whatever even if it seems near-impossible as long as it's a place under the sun (basically as long as it's not underground or hidden via magic/gods). she won't be prophetic, she still has to do the work to look and make the connections herself, but apollo greases the wheels and makes it go a little faster. + maybe he throws in some healing as a bonus because she impressed him, like she heals slightly faster than the average person

god yeah ive been thinking about the apollo/babs dynamic. i think it would be super interesting to go more into

i do like the blessing being knowledge related! i do think he wouldnt give her something insanely op like being actually prophetic or anything but him "greases the wheels" is really good! everything ur saying is honestly really good oml

sort of on a different tangent-

im unsure atm where this would take place in the pjo canon? if i want them to take place in the same universe - like if it is a possibility for the current demigods like percy, annabeth, etc... to run into any of the batkids? i think i might have it a bit connected, but then that brings into question where the Trials of Apollo fit into the DC timeline.

because pre-ToA!apollo and post-ToA!apollo are different. pre-apollo is more selfish, godly- despite being one of the more human-like gods he still sees humans as like,, toys. post-apollo has more of an understanding of them, understanding their plights and feelings because of that time spent as lester and with the CHB kids.

i feel like pre-ToA apollo might not have given babs that blessing the same way post-ToA apollo might have, but if i have ToA take place before babs becomes oracle, meaning before the killing joke and death in the family that kind of messes up some of the vibes i wanted to go for. percy is 17 in ToA, and (unsure if i DO want percy and the gang to be involved with the batkids in this au) i feel like he would be the same age or around the same age as jason, to me it makes a lot of sense to me- but if ToA happened before apollo offers babs the blessing that would make percy AT LEAST 2/3 years older than jason. so im not 100% sure on things. although percy as older than jason would be interesting.

or pre-toa apollo did it because it thought of babs as something cool he could play around with- use his blessing on her like a experiment or something idk D:::

[desultory-novice]

hello! out of curiosity, do you have any headcanons/theories/etc. concerning how moonlight mansion’s secret laboratory area factors into the dmk connection? if you don’t mind my asking, i’d love to hear your thoughts if you have any :>

Not...yet. Not a full one, anyway. I will say that the secret lab was in the back of my mind as I was writing my initial post.

Was tempted to say it belongs to someone else. King Dedede is always portrayed to be a secret gear-head but the tubes...

(Photos for those unaware of Moonlight Mansion's secret underground lab)

If... If Dark Meta Knight never had his own "Dark Halberd" and Moonlight Mansion was only his home base... Well, the Halberd is run on Wheelie technology (like the lab has Sparkies) and has similar trap/breakaway passages on it like the basement does...

Although if DMK didn't have his own Revenge of Meta Knight-style coup on Dream Land in the wings... what the HECK was he planning on doing with THIS stuff??! (All of a sudden, the idea of Susie and DMK bonding doesn't seem that strange after all...)

I've also thought a lot about DMK choosing Radish Ruins for the site of his second ambush. If it's a sign that he's got a barely concealed interest in ancient technology and old cultures as MK does...

(I was also thinking about how Moonlight Mansion is a hub to just two realms: Onion Ocean and Candy Constellation. Onion Ocean could relate to the sunken Halberd but I don't have anything relevant for Candy Constellation. It is one of the more tech-y of the realms so that could be where he got the equipment at least...)

If the Mirror enhances the negative, perhaps... MK's interest in the past was taken a bit too far in DMK? Perhaps he wasn't just content to observe it, he wanted to try and reproduce some of it?

...Then again, we're also talking about the guy who, when given a crayon and told he could draw whatever he wanted chose SWORD.

(I tease. Though him drawing a sword badly is still the funniest thing ever)

And, you know, perhaps he just needs a lab to keep the Halberd up and running? This baby is not gonna maintain itself!

Although, hot damn, that test tube is full of GREEN liquid isn't it...?

:Dess begins shaking violently:

EDIT: Last minute thoughts!! If he's got portraits of the realm bosses up, maybe he was...running experiments to try and connect the realms?? Or power the cellphone batteries...??!?

(Who DOES make those batteries? Maybe it IS DMK?!)

[tsarisfanfiction]

Truth Comes Out of His Well (Chapter 11)

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Lee Fletcher, Kronos, Apollo, Apollo Cabin (and many more) As always, @stereden is responsible for the accompanying podfic! You can also blame her for the end of this chapter :P << Chapter 10 Listen to chapter 11 on AO3

The demigods had started to fight back.

For what had felt like forever, Silena and Michael’s reports – especially Silena’s – had more or less boiled down to “camp life is going on as normal”, which had relieved Lee and pleased Kronos.  Lee still disagreed with Silena’s blind belief that if the demigods just stayed out of the war, they wouldn’t get hurt, but he wouldn’t disagree that the less of a target they painted on their own backs, the safer they would be.

Living out camp life as per usual, training and playing Capture the Flag – albeit with vastly reduced numbers during the winter, as Lee recalled well – meant that Kronos seemed to be content to leave them alone, and anything that had Kronos leaving Lee’s family and friends alone was a positive in his book.

Lee himself was not doing too well, admittedly.  He had lost a lot of weight, muscles atrophying from inaction – the brief spells of freedom to go to the bathroom did a little but nowhere near enough - and being chained up the rest of the time meant he couldn’t even do any exercises to keep in shape.  His diet was enough to keep him from starvation and keep his brain sharp, because Kronos clearly wanted Lee’s mental faculties intact, but it wasn’t ideal, either.

Worst of all was the fact that he hadn’t seen the sun since being captured.  He had never worked out exactly where in the world Kronos was keeping him, but it was far enough underground that the sun never came close, not even a distant warmth just reaching him through the corridors.  What he had worked out was that Kronos had more than one base, and a way to move between them both quickly and also undetected by the gods.

The biggest clue for that was the Princess Andromeda, a boat he’d heard mention of back when he was still at camp, and also heard mentioned in passing as Kronos barked out orders.  From what Lee could tell, that was where a lot of the monsters were kept – which was a relief.  The other demigods ranged from neutral to cruel but they had enough fear of Kronos to not hurt Lee, except with sharp words and venomous tongues.  Years of instincts told Lee that if a monster came across him, his much-reduced healing abilities would be tested, and he wasn’t certain that was something he could survive.

Although there were times when he’d wondered if it would be better if one of them did stumble across him and put him out of his misery.  Kronos wouldn’t be able to use him anymore, then.

Lee wasn’t stupid.  He hadn’t caved and told Kronos what he wanted to know, not once, but clearly Kronos still thought it was worth having him listen in to all his spy reports.  He hadn’t physically reacted to lies in years, but with so many forced overloads, Lee was aware that he had almost certainly developed a nervous tic – not that he’d worked out what it was.

Thankfully, for the most part, Kronos’ various spies told the truth.  That made sense – they’d be poor spies if they didn’t give accurate information – but Kronos clearly had enough paranoia over the possibility of double-agents that he had resorted to using a lie detector anyway, unluckily for Lee.

Michael was probably the least truthful, but they were all small things, a lack of certainty when he claimed it, and other similarly unremarkable things.  Silena, on the other end of the scale, was meticulous in her truth-telling, almost honest to a fault.

As far as Lee knew, Silena was also the only spy, including Kronos’ lesser used ones, the ones that kept an eye on the gods and some demigods who weren’t at camp over the winter, who knew about him.  When Kronos took a report from Michael and the others, he settled himself on the ever-present outcrop of rock which he posed on like a king.  A tyrant, if Lee was being specific.  It was only when the face materialising in muted colours was Silena’s that Kronos moved, instead lounging next to Lee, looking so much more like Luke, so that Hecate’s spell picked him up on the visual transmission, too.

Lee hated it.  He hated the way Kronos still moved and posed like Luke, not always but enough, and always when he was after reactions, or the sadistic pleasure of watching his victim force themselves to suppress their reactions, because they knew it wasn’t Luke, despite appearances.  He hated how Kronos posed next to him, like he and Luke were chilling against the side of a building somewhere, rather than Lee being chained to a wall and Kronos inhabiting his once-friend’s body.

Silena didn’t outwardly react, but Lee knew her well enough to know that the sight hurt her, anyway.  There were things he didn’t know about the daughter of Aphrodite, now, because she’d lied to him for so long, but one trait that kept shining through, even in her spying, was how much she cared for people.  To call it a shame that she’d channelled that care into some twisted belief that if she worked with Kronos she could protect people would be a massive understatement, but Lee hadn’t particularly inherited his father’s talent with words.

Music and healing weren’t doing him any good, not now that his healing spluttered and died at anything greater than bruises, and truth…  Well.  Truth was what had put him in this situation in the first place.  Lee didn’t hate it, because it was from his father and he could never hate anything Apollo gave him, but part of him didn’t think too kindly about that particular ability of his.

Then again, it had always been awkward, knowing when someone was lying.  He’d alienated many classmates as a kid, before he lived at camp, by not knowing when it wasn’t worth calling out a lie.  It was also why he didn’t advertise it at camp – he didn’t need everyone looking at him, on edge every time they told a white lie.  He’d alienated a few campers, too, before he’d learned when to keep his mouth shut and ignore a lie.

Lee did at least appreciate that Silena went out of her way not to tell a lie – more or less the only thing he still felt positively towards the daughter of Aphrodite for.

Unfortunately, that made it all the more obvious to Lee when suddenly, Silena did lie.

“I don’t know,” she said, pulling all the perfect expressions to mimic her own face when she spoke truths.  “The head counsellors have narrowed it down to two opportunities, but they haven’t decided which one to take, yet.”

They were talking about cutting off some of Kronos’ reinforcements, and Lee dearly wanted to get back in contact with camp himself to tell them that it didn’t matter, the titan just called more up from Tartarus to replace his depleted ranks.  They would be much, much, better off keeping their heads out of the way and not going out of their way to target Kronos.

Before Lee had been snatched, camp had always been reactive to Kronos.  Lightning bolt stolen?  Send a trio to retrieve it.  Camp defences failing because the tree they were currently tied to was dying?  Send Clarisse out to fetch the Golden Fleece.  An invasion of camp?  Fight back.  Now, it seemed like the head counsellors were getting more and more proactive.

Lee wished he could say he didn’t expect that of Michael, but Michael had always been trigger happy and quick to lash out, impersonating the old adage of how offence was the best defence.  It was one thing that Lee had never fully managed to stop him doing, and it didn’t surprise him that his younger brother had fallen into the safety of familiarity.

He wasn’t even surprised that Clarisse was reportedly touting similar sentiments.  She and Michael had always been more similar than either of them would admit even on pain of death, after all.  The two of them working together would’ve been something to celebrate, in other circumstances.  As it was, Lee wished they weren’t enabling and egging each other on.  Sooner or later, they’d come up with something that had Kronos furious enough to retaliate.

With Silena suddenly lying, he got the sinking feeling that she, at least, thought it was going to be sooner rather than later.

He also realised she was relying on him to not broadcast her lie to Kronos, even though she didn’t look at him once.  She rarely did, any more.  Lee didn’t know if it was because he looked so awful she couldn’t bear to look – his hair was longer now than it had ever been, and he was sure his skin looked bleached and sallow, even in Hecate’s visual transmissions – or if it was guilt, the acceptance that she had thrown away their friendship for good and that Lee could only forgive so much.

Lee didn’t do it for Silena, but he did it for the demigods risking their lives to whittle down at Kronos’ army, even if it was a futile endeavour.

The grilling he got once her report was over was the most intense it had been in a while, leaving Lee in no doubt that Kronos had noticed something, but Lee hadn’t given in yet and he certainly wasn’t going to cave with demigod lives potentially on the line.

Even when Kronos pushed and pushed and pushed, and the by-now familiar torment of multiple lies being thrown at him by a crowd of uncomfortably eager demigods lasted so long that Lee was sure he’d blacked out before they were done.  Even if he hadn’t passed out, he’d certainly lost awareness.

Coming back to his senses, face tight with dried tears and aching cheeks, and wrists screaming from where they’d still never lost the habit of fighting for freedom when his senses overloaded, to see Kronos still waiting, golden eyes burning and arms crossed in a way that was for once less Luke and more terrifying titan, was different.  So was the way Kronos resumed the interrogation immediately, pushing and prying and pulling to get the details of Silena’s lie out of him.

Lee had no idea how he held on.  The continued lack of physical violence likely helped – if Kronos had snapped and decided physical torture would be more effective, then Lee wasn’t sure if he could have done – but eventually Kronos stalked out of the room, glowering and presence oppressive even as he walked away with a single, terrifying, parting shot.

“You only have yourself to blame.”

To blame for what?

The next time he saw Kronos, several meals so likely at least a week later, the titan was no happier, and Camp Half-Blood’s target had been hit.

Lee actually heard the account from Ethan, who had scoffed about it as he watched Lee eat his food tentatively after his attempted healing session ended almost before it began.  His wrists were weak, and permanently ringed with red welts and various shades of bruising, and hairline fractures in the bones weren’t sealing up.  Still, he had long since stopped taking for granted the freedom to eat at his own pace, feeding himself instead of being at the mercy of someone else.

Ethan hadn’t been impressed at what the campers had done.  In another circumstance, Lee would have found it hilarious, but all it really inspired was dread, instead.  A contingency of monsters had been travelling via coach, heading for the Princess Andromeda to meet with Kronos and receive their orders.  None of them appeared to have been particularly bright, but the implication was that Kronos thought them at least capable of following orders.

Someone had snuck into the coach’s toilet and rigged the flush to set off a series of Greek Fire bombs, annihilating the coach and turning all of the monsters to dust.  The part of Lee that had been a camp counsellor for many years saw the unholy combination of cabin eleven and cabin nine in the carnage – cabin nine to set up the mechanics behind the trap, and cabin eleven to sneak it into position.

Specifically, Lee would have pointed fingers in the direction of the Stolls and Beckendorf, if he was still at camp.  It was the exact sort of uncontrolled chaos that the trio could get up to, even if Beckendorf at least pretended to be above Hermes cabin levels of shenanigans.

Lee had known the son of Hephaestus far too long to be fooled by that act.

Above all, though, the biggest hint to Beckendorf’s involvement was Silena’s lie.  She hadn’t lied about any of the other planned attacks, which had left Kronos in a position to counter them, even if his idea of counter so far seemed to be throwing more monsters at the problem – and with Clarisse and the Ares cabin so frequently leading the charge, that wasn’t doing a whole lot.  Beckendorf, however, she had always been close to.  Her crush on the other boy had been blatantly obvious to everyone, with the possible exception of the boy in question, and the same was true of the reverse.

Even now, Lee could see Silena risking everything to try and protect him.

Ethan’s recounting of the events from what he knew bordered on entertaining – certainly satisfying, from the point of view of someone who was no more eager for Kronos to win the war than he had been before he’d been captured – but when Kronos swept into the room later, after Ethan had re-shackled Lee and left, there was no entertainment at all.

There was fear, which slowly evolved into horror.

“You’ve been very stubborn, Lee,” Kronos acknowledged.  Normally when he spoke like that, he leaned into the way he was inhabiting Luke’s body, but the body language stayed all wrong, more accurate to the titan inside.  It didn’t bode well.  “I do admire your loyalty to the gods.  Perhaps if more demigods had your devotion, I wouldn’t even be here, but fortunately for me, you are an oddity, and not the normal.”  His tone lightened for a moment, before snapping into something dark and sharp.  “However.”

Golden eyes burned and Lee wanted to be anywhere that wasn’t on the receiving end of a titan’s intensity.

“This little rebellion of yours ends now, Lee,” Kronos told him, a truth, something that he believed with his entire being.  He’d said several things to that effect before, and Lee hadn’t stopped yet.  “I have entertained your pitiful attempts at stonewalling me for the past year” – gods, it had been a year? – “but my patience is now at an end.  You will co-operate with me from now on.”

Lee got the sense that something very bad was about to happen.  Kronos was too certain, too angry, for it to be more of the same, and that meant the odds of it actually being something that could break him were much, much higher than he liked.

Kronos snapped his fingers, an action that sometimes accompanied part of Lee’s body – often his mouth – freezing in place, but nothing happened to Lee.

There were footsteps instead, heavy and loud and uneven, like someone didn’t want to be walking.

Alabaster walked in, his face unbearably smug, but it wasn’t the son of Hecate that had Lee’s insides slumping all the way down to the cave floor in despair.

No, that was the demigod in his grasp, cuffed and writhing in a desperate yet so clearly futile attempt to escape.

Gods, please, no.

Chapter 12>>>

[galactic-rhea]

Test Flight (ficlet)

Okay, I know I SHOULDN'T be brainstorming let alone writing AU things when I still haven't watched the movies or finished the series, I apologize.

But I just was possesed by writing this funny interaction of:

"Han Solo loses all of his confidence when he needs to make a good impression for Leia's parents. Aka Padmé and no-evil-Anakin( not evil but still sharper at the edges and very serious because of the horrors)" and I figured I might as well just post it.

Word count: ~ 1k Warnings: None. (Possibly some OOC because like I said I still haven't watched the movies, although i tried my best, sorry)

It must be made clear that Han didn’t exactly agree with any of this, he wasn’t eager nor looking forward to being welcomed into Leia’s prestigious family. If anything, he would rather go on with their lives far away from Naboo’s aristocracy and what not. And for starters, he wasn’t sure he was going to be welcomed, per se.

But Leia had been insistent. And there was nothing on that planet or the whole galaxy that could change her mind. So he had no other choice but trying to look for the best of his clothes, which he suspected would get the snobbish aristocracy laughing at him.

Well, maybe not Leia’s family. She was quite an oddball, and it seemed to run in the family, as neither of her parents, or Luke, for that matter, seemed to be normal. First there was Senator Amidala, whom Han had seen just briefly and watched some of her speeches through holograms.

For an aristocrat and a senator, there were quite the wild stories of her being in the middle of an open fire; she being the one holding a gun.  And second, she seemed…strangely just, for a politician, that was it.

But Senator Amidala wasn’t the one he was both intrigued and concerned (even though Luke insisted it was their mother the one in charge). Leia’s father was no other than famous, or perhaps infamous, depending on who you asked, Anakin Skywalker. Legendary war hero, retired jedi and turned aristocrat of Naboo after marrying Senator Amidala. 

He was a secretive, and shady person, and Hans had never seen him, all he knew from him were among bar rumors and telltales. The only thing he was sure of, was that he was  particularly adept at training his own children in his own ways, and if rumors were true, he also led some underground operation of rebels in Naboo.

But he forced himself to not believe in these. After all, Luke and Leia spoke of their father as a fairly fun guy. 

As he stepped out of the speeder and looked up to appreciate the palace, he sighed. Yes, perhaps he should be more concerned about the senator than some failed jedi that fell into a scandalous affair.

He was escorted by guards through long hallways until Leia materialized at his side, seemingly from one of the upstairs. He felt as though it was easier to get lost in such a place than into any forest he had known. 

“Hey,” he greeted. 

“Hey,” Leia smiled and leaned closer to him to speak without being heard by the guards. “I already softened them. All you have to do it’s not make a fool of yourself for an hour or so, it should be easy even for you, right?”

“I never make a fool of myself,” he retorted with a cheeky smile.

“Huh huh.” They both turned in time when Luke appeared from other of the hallways,  waving his hand and loudly greeting them

“You better don't pick up on Luke,” Leia rolled her eyes and twisted her lips as if the thought was too sugary and cheesy for someone like her. “He’s their dumb baby boy.”

“That will make things harder,” Han chuckled as they watched Luke approach.

They shared greetings and a few meaningless words before finally moving onto the dining hall. A giant room with a table several meters long. 

“You don’t look relaxed,” Luke pointed out, and if Luke was pointing it out, it meant he was doing a poor job at being calm. He wasn’t even sure what was worrying about this whole ordeal. At worst, Leia’s family would forbid him from their private parties, right?

He had had no time to answer when the opposite doors opened and everyone directed their attention towards the pair now approaching them. Han squared his shoulders, while Leia and Luke did not so much as to minimally change their stances.

Senator Amidala was regal and with a long white dress adorned with different shades of golden. She held a kind smile, and her hair and makeup was remarkable. A stark contrast to how little makeup Leia would usually wear. 

And at her side, towering over her for several inches; Anakin Skywalker strode in perfect coordination with his wife. He had a mild, barely noticeable limping. And if Han hadn’t trained his eyes to immediately search for weakness on anyone who enters his vision, he probably wouldn’t have ever noticed. 

Skywalker’s eyes were cold and his semblance stoic. Not exactly what Hans was expecting from a retired, or more like, fired, jedi. His whole presence filled the room with certain heaviness, as if the air had become charged with static and with each step, Hans felt more and more uneasy, struggling to remain still. 

“Senator, Amidala,” Han bowed his head slightly, then he turned towards the retired jedi and vacillated. How was he supposed to call him? He took several seconds to address Anakin before he could come up with something. “Mr….Amidala?”

He supposed a senator’s surname held more importance than a retired jedi’s one, right? 

It seemed to be the wrong answer, though,  by the way Luke scoffed and Leia turned her eyes away from him. The senator seemed amused, as she turned to look at her companion, but Anakin’s expression barely changed.

“Shall we begin our dinner?” With no amability or whatsoever, he spoke in a low, raspy voice, and Hans wondered if it was the aftermath of an old battle wound.

They all got on their respective seats and started dinner rather awkwardly. Senator Amidala would be the most talkative, prompting questions towards her children and a few directed towards Han. If it weren’t because Leia’s father wouldn’t take his icy glare away from him, it would have been a rather pleasant dinner. He figured it would be best if he was the one to start the conversation with Skywalker.

“I heard you’re a skilled mechanic, sir-”

“How old are you?” General Skywalker cut in dryly as he started cutting his steak.

Han hesitated, pondering his options. He could always lie…But given Anakin Skywalker’s reputation, he wouldn't be surprised if the man could somehow read minds as well.

“Twenty five,sir,” he answered simply. 

"I see..." He answered emotionlessly and then carried his eyes towards Leia, who , if anything, seemed mildly curious, rather than intimidated. "Perhaps you should be socializing with people of your age, instead of chasing after older people, don't you think, youngling?"

Leia's brows joined together in an offended glare. However, the corner of the retired general curved upwards; bordering into a smile. Senator Amidala, however, was rather obvious, as she brought her glass of wine towards her lips in an attempt to hide a mischievous smile.

“I don’t chase,” Leia let out an airy huff and held her father’s gaze. “They all get into a line and I choose.”

“What line? Hans is the only one who could stand you,” Luke raised his voice, and it was hard to understand if his question was serious or he was merely attempting to rile up Leia. 

“I fought all the others in the line, actually,” Han smiled with a wink, hoping his intervention would avoid any argument between the siblings. 

“Cute,” Senator Amidala smiled, approving of Han’s sense of humor. She turned her attention onto her husband with a raised eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with your steak, dear?”

General Skywalker’s eyes shone with a hint of amusement for a heartbeat before his expression returned to cold stone as he looked down at his plate; he had already run out of parts to cut. “Yes. Insipid…” He returned to glare at their guest. “Dull.”

“Do you want mine, pa’?” Luke offered, probably breaking every single dining rule known to aristocracy. 

“No, Luke.”

Han shifted on his chair and tried to focus on eating; the faster they finished dinner, the faster he could run away from Anakin’s unbearable deadly look.

Leia cleared her throat, leaning towards his father, who immediately turned all of his attention onto her.

“Dad, I bet you didn’t know Han is a pilot.”

Anakin hummed, considering this and then landed his seemingly eternal glare back onto Han. 

“I did not. Is that true?” 

Leia turned her face to Han and gestured, twisting her mouth as she spoke silent words. Words that Han didn’t understand, not even a single one. He frowned as he tried to piece the words together until he realized Anakin’s impatient hum. 

“Yes…Sir. I’m.” 

“Are you good?” Anakin pressed, reaching with his robotic arm a glass of wine.

Han raised his chin with a wide and confident smile. “The best.”

The general’s expression changed, as he stopped mid-drink and lowered his glass. He curled his lips into an authentic cocky smile. Strangely enough, the smile of someone who’s used to laughing and playing around, and it made him appear almost like a different person.

“Oh, really?” He scoffed, leaning against the back of his chair. “Let’s have a race, then.”

Han blinked, unsure about what to answer. He looked for Leia’s guidance and help, but she had her head turned towards her parents.

“Ani,” Senator Amidala gave her husband a look. 

“He says he’s the best, I wanna know if he’s lying.” He shrugged. “If he didn’t lie, there’s nothing to fear.”

“We’re having dinner.”

“We just finished dinner, m’ lady,”  he gave a quick glance at Luke and Leia’s plates to point out his words. Then landed his eyes on Han. “So, what do you say…Mr. Solo?”

He supposed he would rather show off his skills at piloting (even if it meant to embarrass Leia’s father in a race) than to stay any single minute at this horrid frivolous dinner. He put down his fork and jumped onto his feet. 

“It will be my pleasure.”

Following his movements, the retired jedi rose up from his seat almost as if the frivolous dinner was just as annoying to him as it was to Hans. He pulled away his cloak in a swift movement and pulled his hair away from his face. 

Senator Amidala shook her head, but there was the faintest amused smile in her lips as she rose up as well and glanced at the twins.

“We'll need good seats.”

[neutron-stars-collision]

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 2 - West Ham Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 1 Summary: What happens when a chance meeting happens again (and again)? Warnings: Swearing, E-rated language and outrageous flirting 🤷🏻‍♀️ Author's Notes: It took me over a month to write (blame the capitalism and full-time work) and it's twice as long (over 8k), but it's here, eh? These two did not seem keen on shutting up and the result is chaotic, but then that's London for you. It also features a cheeky POV change because there's no rules and everything is a simulation :) Also, if anyone's interested, the dance she mentions in scene no 1 and shows Neil is 'Cupid's Variation' from Don Quixote ballet. As seen for example here. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think? 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

To say you have not thought about Neil every day since that encounter would be a lie. As it turned out, he was wrong. It was not difficult to remember him, tormented daily by the memories of that exact shade of blue or the way the strands of his hair fell over his forehead. Rarely the one to lie to yourself, you did not even try to get rid of those thoughts. After all, it was harmless. Hopefully.

A week later, on another dreary Wednesday morning, when the only reason for excitement was this autumn’s production of Don Quixote and the roll-call announcement in your inbox, you made it to the St. John’s Wood station with a slight shortness of breath. The morning walk was always an opportunity to admire how ordinary neighbourhoods of West Kilburn transformed into the poshness of Maida Vale and St. John’s. Alternatively, it was a way to check whether your fitness levels were still up to par. That morning, it was the second option.

Happy to blame the annoyingly engaging 5 minutes crafts video that popped up on your timeline just as you were supposed to be getting dressed, you shouldered your way past lingering tourists and through the ticketing gates. That was the only issue you had with the station. Its proximity to the most famous crossing in all of England (if not all of Europe) meant that day in and day out, hundreds of clueless individuals stood in your path. The best you could do was not trample them as you rushed to the platform, all too aware of the passing minutes.

Luckily, the gods of TfL were merciful. As soon as you stepped onto the platform, that familiar rush of warm air from the tunnels made the hair sweep into your face. You breezed through the rehearsed choreography – locating the door, letting the disembarking crowd through, stepping into the cart. It was easy, almost done with your eyes closed.

That Wednesday morning, you were glad you did not test the theory and kept your eyes open. The cursory glance around the cart got cut short when your gaze landed on the familiar dirty-blonde head, bowed over a book. You froze, eyes already doing their job by following the outline of the man to make sure it was not just your wishful thinking. Once you did it twice over, you knew it was no mistake. It was Neil. Sat by the window, blissfully unaware of your staring.

And you did stare. At the sharpness of his profile, the broad shoulders clad in a perfectly fitting shirt and the strong forearms, again bared by the rolled-up sleeves. Although it had only been a week, you drank the sight of him like a woman parched. Without letting yourself think too long of the consequences, you crossed the aisle and sat down next to him:

“I haven’t forgotten you. Are you proud?” with the breath still hitched in your throat, you watched Neil react.

He froze, the book almost slipping out of his loose hold. As if controlled by strings, his head swivelled towards your voice at an alarming speed. You watched as he scanned your face, clearly going through the same crisis as you did. Only once you saw Neil relax and not eager to bolt, you sagged into the plastic chair and offered him your most innocent look. Neil’s responding smile felt like sunshine hitting your face on a cold winter afternoon. You were happy to let the warmth seep into your bones.

“I’m mostly flattered, but you’re bad for my ego,” he gave you another once-over, this time lingering on your body.

It was more than welcome. You shot Neil a smirk, already ecstatic with the turn of the conversation. Although, there were evident falsities within his words. There was no big ego to conquer. You could see as much in that persisting disbelief in his eyes, the margin of distrust Neil kept throughout the last conversation. All because he did not seem to see himself the way he was. The way everyone else saw him.

“Nah, you’re fine,” using the observation as an inspiration, you reached out to pat his knee and lowered your voice to a faux-seductive timbre, “Actually more than fine,” admittedly, it was another corny line.

But if it worked.

When he blushed, you barely resisted the urge to pump your fist. Neil knew that was the intent anyway if his narrowing stare was anything to go by. He stayed silent for a beat, giving you a chance to stare. To trace his features with your gaze, substituting for a careful touch of your fingertips. It was too early to do that. Yet. But it did seem like the magnetism of last week’s meeting did not disappear, leaving you both arrested in each other’s orbit by the sheer force of gravity. A force you did not want to resist.

“Do you want to make me blush?” Neil’s question made you blink back the thoughts and admire your success.

That rosy-cheeked glow only added to the overall striking looks. And did not stop you from getting in too deep. That had already happened.

“Very much so,” shooting him your best innocent smile, you carefully lowered the tote bag onto the floor between your knees and looked around the cart, ending it on Neil again, “Fancy seeing you here,” the resulting smile was enough of a reward for the pain of another weak pickup line.

On the edge of your consciousness, you registered that the train was still moving as it should. The tourists were still starting to crowd the space. But it was hardly noticeable.

“Likewise,” Neil seemed to consider something for a beat, then he extended his hand towards you in a greeting. An echo of that first handshake, “Hi,”

Not hesitating to join him halfway, you wrapped his palm in a tight hold, letting your thumb draw invisible lines along the back of his hand.

“Hi,” like then, the handshake lasted too long, but none of you cared to cut it short. Neil loosened the hold first, his long fingers trailing over the back of your hand and the length of your digits before dropping away. The slight catch in your voice was masked easily by the next question, “Soo, is this like… Are you going to work?” you eyed his outfit again, taking note of the leather laptop bag on the floor.

It seemed clear, but if the years of commuting by the London Tube taught you anything, it was that almost nothing was what it seemed.

“Yeah, I am,” Neil breezed through your doubts with a decisive nod.

The unspoken was easily detected. A better woman would have probably let it be, ignoring the omission with the hopes that the conversation partner was too shy to disclose the information. Like a normal almost-stranger. But you were never the better woman.

“Where do you work?” you leaned in closer, the waft of his cologne overwhelming the senses.

The masking conspiratorial grin must have appeared manic. It was hard to tell whether that alone was the reason for Neil’s passing discomfort.

“I’d rather not say,” he shifted in the seat, averting your gaze, “It’s… complicated,” the apologetic tone only added fuel to the curiosity.

Now you had to know. One way or another.

“Can I guess?” your mind was already buzzing with possibilities.

Not only was he stunning, but mysterious. To not let that get into your head you reached into the tote and dug out a water bottle. One greedy sip hardly did what it needed to do. And you nearly choked during it. A heavenly omen? You did consider that, in between Neil’s intense stare and his hesitant nod.

“Good luck with that,” the scepticism in his gaze felt like a challenge.

One that you were happy to take up. You leaned back as far as the seat confines allowed and measured him critically. The elegant clothes suggested it was unlikely Neil was working at a shopfloor level. As did the “put together” appearance, with the only flaw being the unkempt hair falling into his eyes. Still, the possibilities were endless.

You decided to start with something safe. Probable.

“Are you a stockbroker?” on its own accord, the look of distaste passed through your face, twisting the features into something almost comical.

It was hardly your fault. It was the years of frustrating men reacting to the news about your job with a bemused smirk, eager to spend the next 10-20 minutes proving the Arts were dead and the ballet was a farce. A hobby, they said. Most of those men were passionate about the stock exchange. Oh, so eager to spend their days screaming at the screens displaying rates and figures you did not care to decipher. Somehow, it was you who was in the wrong. You were the naïve one.

It was impossible to say whether Neil could read all of that from the fleeting look on your face, but the amusement in his eyes suggested it was likely.

“Christ, no,” he shook his head vehemently, revealing his feelings towards the occupation.

Somehow, it felt like a relief. That tiny dose of joy was enough to embolden you further. To let go of the remaining apprehensiveness and let your mouth do what it did best. It happened often enough to be an issue. Because once you stopped caring what you said or how the other person reacted, nothing stopped your mouth from speaking whatever it wanted.

Most of the time, that meant utter bullshit.

“Alright… A priest?” as soon as the question gained voice and sound, you knew it was one of those times.

That, however, did not make you want to take it back. How could you, after seeing the bewilderment on Neil’s face, which beat any expression you had ever seen him make?

“… What is going on in that head of yours?” he stared at you with concern, only making that laughter bubbling in your chest become a fact.

Admittedly, the image was hilarious. Neil, as a member of the clergy, was a concept that emoted thoughts you did not dare dwell on. At least not now. Not when you were right next to him. Later? Maybe.

“Nobody knows,” you shook it off with a mysterious look thrown his way and rested your chin in your fist, positioned perfectly to fix your unwavering gaze on him, “So, I guess it’s a no, then?”

Just in case that it was a yes.

“No,” Neil spoke faster than you deemed possible, quickly keying into the breathless laugh breaking on your face, “I mean, yes, it’s a no,” the decisive shake of the head was enough for you to drop it. If he let you, “Is that a kink thing, or…?”

The inquisitive look was turned onto you. There was no chance of escaping the blue eyes that stared you down. Yet again, you felt like he could see the depths of your soul. And judging from the smile hiding in the corner of his lips, he liked what he saw.

But that did not mean you were happy to give him quite that much.

“I wouldn’t tell you if it was. Not yet, anyway,” you hoped the promise within that sentence was clear.

Neil’s widening grin confirmed it. You winked at him, sealing the pledge for future use.

“Are you also going to work?” Neil’s question acted like a needed change of scene.

A naturally occurring shift in the atmosphere. You took it with both hands open wide:

“To the dance studio. I got a part in autumn’s production of Don Quixote. The Cupid, to be exact. That means the next few months, I might as well live in there,” the heavy sigh was only half of an act.

But it was nice to share the news. To boast to someone who listened and seemed to care. Because the thrill of that first look at the cast list and seeing your name there was still burning.

“Congrats. That sounds like a big deal,” Neil’s proud smile confirmed the hopes and dreams.

“It is. It’s difficult, even though the variation is like a minute long,” unafraid to delve into the deposit of fun facts and trivia available at hand, you rambled on until you remembered about the videos you could use as a demonstration “I could show you what it looks like, if you want?” fully prepared, you took out the phone from your pocket and waited.

Neil gestured towards it like there was no dilemma at all. Like he wanted to understand.

“Obviously,” he nodded, welcoming you into his space and leaning his back against the carriage side.

You did not squander that chance, typing the necessary phrase onto the YouTube search and getting closer to him. Once the video was ready, you offered Neil one of your earphones. It was not long, with the clip’s duration barely breaching the one-minute timestamp, but the shiver of excitement was still there. It caught fire when you pressed play and heard the familiar score fill your ears, the eyes tracing the steps by the ballerina on the recording with the mind making plans for your version. For what you could do to make it different. Memorable. It was thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

But what soon became more fun was watching Neil instead of looking at the screen. He was focused on the performance, staring at the dancer with curiosity and interest. As if like he cared. You were not sure what to do about that realisation.

As the ballerina finished the performance with a smile and the video ended, you moved the phone away and snatched the headphones to deposit both in the tote. The rare hesitancy replaced the previous bravery, taking all the words out of your mouth and leaving you silent. And unable to look at him until Neil was the first to speak:

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” the encouragement in his voice did half the job of coaxing you out of the stupor.

The act was complete when he placed his palm on your knee and squeezed it lightly. That alone made you turn your head to look at him, all at once letting go of the shyness. Although he just as quickly took his hand back, the burning mark on your skin remained like the phantom touch. The slightly manic grin you turned on him was the only way you could hide the darkening blush.

“What did I do to deserve trust like that?” the question was genuine, eating at your brain with small yet persistent bites, impossible to ignore.

Neil had no obligation to humour you. No need to support you – a near stranger by all accounts. But he did. It was increasingly difficult to keep a distance. To remind yourself that you did not really know him. That trust should not be given this easily.

Neil’s searching gaze did not make it easier.

“I just like to believe in people, especially if I consider them friends,” he met your gaze and offered a timid smile.

You grasped onto the chance with a tight hold.

“Are we friends?” it was an opportunity for him to back off, to leave before you got in deeper.

Before what was once a chance meeting and a cute story to share with friends after a glass of wine became something real. Something frequent. Something to care for.

You did not have to stop to know what you wanted to happen.

“Something along those lines,” Neil shrugged, reading what you meant without difficulty. You saw the friendship take shape in the tiniest of nods you exchanged before he changed the topic with a cheeky smirk, “Especially considering I know about your annoying hook-up,” the involuntary shudder was an automatic reaction on your part, earning a pleased laugh from him “Talking about which, any new conquests?” he measured you up with that same searching look.

One that told you it was not only you that wanted to know more. That Neil, too, was curious. Although, that assumption was a tad bit insulting.

“No, come on. It’s been a week,” the frustration in your tone was a choice, a way of showing how the presumption made you feel, “I’m not that much of a player,” while it was from an insult, Neil needed to know he was wrong.

For some reason. A reason you were not willing to pick apart or scrutinise. Whether he noticed your ongoing crisis, it was hard to tell, for the moment Neil turned a mischievous grin on you, all rational thoughts had disappeared.

“And yet here you are, flirting with me,” checkmate.

The look you gave him confirmed his suspicions, if nothing did before. Only the fact was that your raging flirting with Neil hardly had anything to do with the desire to score another hook-up. There was no aim here, only that he was willing and too beautiful to be ignored.

At least, that was the hill you would die on.

“You’re making it easy,” you shrugged, half hoping to shift the attention away from your sex life and its many failings. But the opportunity was right there, too good to be wasted. Too perfect for the humour glimmering in his eyes and the expectant twitch in his lips, “Plus, you never know what may happen,” admittedly, the lower timbre and the seductive tone were all taken from the book on flirting you had used many times before.

But it worked, so… As if looking to distract you, Neil dragged a hand through his hair, making the blonde strands stick up and then fall in even greater disarray over his forehead. (That worked, too). All the while, he never let his gaze stray away from yours, seemingly confident that there was no need to keep note of the upcoming stops or anyone else around you. That, too, was a dangerous observation to make. All things considered.

“You have something in mind?” Neil’s question forced you to maintain some composure, but even that was short-lived.

As if inspired by your antics from that first meeting, his gaze travelled to your lips. The action alone kicked off a chain of events. Your eyes took the cue to glance down, to trace the shape of his mouth with a pang of hunger tugging at your stomach. Neil noticed it, watching you like a hawk that has just set the hook for its prey. Sinker? His tongue darted out to lick the expanse of his bottom lip. The hot flash of want sizzled underneath your eyelids as you forced yourself to look away.

Even if only to pretend you had not been struck by the same bullet you had fired at him the week before. The amusement you noticed in the corner of your eye told you it was futile.

“Oh, certainly,” your gaze stayed fixed on the darkness of the tunnels outside, as you mused out loud, “Especially if we keep on meeting like this,” there was nothing to add.

No chance of hiding the hopeful tint in your voice or the desire voiced with it. The part of you that had always rebelled against vulnerability and telling people truths, that were too close to reality, was ablaze with rage. You worried that, soon, it might start chucking rocks at you to stop. Goddamn.

“I hope we will. You’re, without a doubt, the most fascinating person I’ve met in a while,” only Neil’s matter-of-fact tone could make you turn back to face him.

If only to check whether it was not some meaningless jest. But there was no joke shining in his blue eyes. Only certainty. On the outskirts of your perception, you noted the station you had just left. That catchy ABBA song sharing its name reverberated in your head as if queued up by the gremlins occupying your brain.

Or something.

In any way, there was hardly time to idle.

“Likewise,” you shared a meaningful nod, not brave enough to express even half of what was running in your head. Instead, you decided to do what you did best and took the jump, “It’s my stop next, so I have to… Would you like to give me your number?” the line delivery was perfected over time.

So much so that by now, you did it without a hitch. Without cracking a smile so long as the recipient was processing the line with silence. The poker face stayed on until you saw that first glimmer of a smile or bursting bout of laughter. Only then did you let yourself crack, too. Just a flash of a smile to let them in on a secret.

Neil’s responding laugh and an amused grin shot straight up your veins like adrenaline. Like a drug you could feel yourself getting addicted to. He seemed to debate his reply for a beat before speaking:

“Maybe. But only if you still remember who I am in two weeks,” the challenge in the statement was clear.

Conveniently for both of you – you were never the one to pass on proving a point. Especially since this one was not going to be difficult. At all.

With all the confidence, you were sure you would think about those blue eyes and blonde mess of a hairstyle for many days to come. During many different times of the day.

Extending the hand to “shake on it”, you clasped his palm firmly. The “game on” look in your eyes completed the picture. The train began to slow down as the PA system crackled to life overhead. There was no time to waste.

“Deal. Do I get bonus points if I think about you during the off hours, too?” with his hand still clasped in yours, you stroked the back of it with your thumb.

A glance at the revealed forearm showed the goosebumps rising in the wake of your touch. Or maybe it was due to the implication? You would never know for sure.

The adorable blush spread over Neil’s cheekbones, suggesting he knew what you meant. He bowed his head as if overwhelmed with bashfulness and whispered the question over your joined hands.

“Do you?” there were two meanings to that question, and both had the same answer.

Do you think about me in those moments? Do you mean that?

Yes. You spelt out the confirmation with your fingertips over his knee. Like it was a secret. Out loud, you said:

“Maybe” the lights of Southwark were like a harsh wake-up, throwing you out of the daydream and into reality. You got up before anything could convince you to be sillier than acceptable. One glance down at the man who had somehow turned your world on its head was enough to soften your gaze, “Bye, Neil. Hope you have a nice day, giving communion or whatever it is priests do,” the joke landed spectacularly, with loud laughter from Neil and a burst of pride in your chest.

He grinned at you, something like happiness shining in the eyes that always seemed to contain melancholy. The desire to know what that was did not want to get any smaller. The doors slid open, forcing you to take that decisive step, fiercely hoping fate would be as generous in a week.

“See you around, Cupid,” Neil’s farewell rang out as you stepped out from the train.

You smiled like a lunatic as you walked down the platform. It was too easy to hope the Jubilee line would bring him to you again.

***

By the next Wednesday, you were prepared. You had timed your morning routine down to the last second to be sure you would get on that same train. And hoped Neil would do the same. Although, for a bystander, the action on your part could come off as desperate, you would never use that word yourself. No, this was pure curiosity. Way to spice up the morning commute and maybe get a friendship out of it. Just that. Only that.

When you descended onto the St. John’s Wood platform at precisely 7:19, your crossed fingers were hidden in your pocket. With bated breath (and an air of nonchalance), you stepped aboard the 7:21 Jubilee line train heading towards Stratford. Just like you planned.

You only let the breath out when your gaze fell upon the familiar dark blonde head. The accompanying hiccup in your heartbeat was to be ignored. Until further notice. Or forever. Aware of the crazed grin on your face, you crossed the space to the places occupied by Neil and asked:

“Is this seat taken?” this time, you were ready for his responding smile, dazzling you close to unconsciousness.

Only the hand tightly grasping the railing was necessary to keep you upright. But Neil need not know that. With your free hand, you motioned towards the seat occupied by his laptop bag.

“Now it is, yes,” Neil grabbed it instantly, putting the bag on the floor and turning toward you with a smile, “I was hoping I’d see you today,” the simple sentence was enough to spark the blooming warmth in your chest.

You did not even realise the cold had settled there throughout the week. In favour of ignoring the thought, you took the plastic seat with an accompanying creak of the material and turned the cheeky smile on Neil:

“Yeah? Were you holding your breath for it?” no matter the teasing, you were glad he had been waiting for you.

That it was not just you who had hoped the meeting no. three would happen. Allowing yourself the pleasure of staring at Neil, you let your eyes roam over his face. You noted the darker circles under his eyes and the tiredness hiding in the blue of his irises.

“From Swiss Cottage,” Neil’s reply made you store the observations in the drawer at the back of your head and stare at him with eyes open wide.

Now, that was interesting.

“That’s where you live?” you could not hide how you perked up hearing the information.

Neil saw through all the tricks you tried to pull up, immediately flashing a knowing smile. That was no mistake, not a case of him saying too much by accident. He wanted you to know. Or, alternately, he did not care too much about keeping it a secret.

“It is. Which makes me think we’re kinda sorta neighbours,” his lips twisted into a pleased smile as he confirmed your assumptions and added his layer of ridicule to the conversation “In the quirky Londony way” as if following internal logic you were not privy to, Neil shimmied in the seat, clearly highlighting the quirkiness of that statement.

There was no controlling the burst of laughter that escaped your lips and rang out in the carriage with embarrassing volume. Clamping your mouth shut, you slid down in the chair and glared at Neil, shaking with barely contained giggles. It was perfect.

Once you felt like you could control yourself, you broke the silence with a reply and a nod:

 “That we are,” then, if only because the giddiness was still making your body shake with joy, you added, “It’s good to know,” you met Neil’s gaze, looking for a pointer.

A sign that it was alright to follow the instinct again. You quickly found what you had been looking for as Neil inclined his head towards yours with glimmering eyes full of curiosity.

“Why?” you might have imagined the deeper timbre in his voice.

It might have just been your wishful thinking that Neil was eager to go along with your flirtations. But it also could have been a fact. Another one of those moments of courage when he seemed to forget what shyness is.

Aware of the danger divagations like those could bring, you shook them off with a shrug, easily deflecting the topic and leaving the assumptions as just that. Luckily, the perfect distraction was waiting on the tip of your tongue.

“Actually- Are you a farmer?” turning the unblinking stare on him, you awaited the responding smile like an early riser waiting for the sunrise.

As soon as you left the carriage a week before, you knew the silly guessing game would have to go on. Even if only for the sake of your amusement. Judging by Neil’s resigned sigh, he was willing to comply.

“So, this continues, huh?” the question was a mere formality, and he did not wait for an answer, dismissing your guess with a sleigh of hand, “Nope, try again,” you certainly did not imagine the pleased nonchalance as Neil settled against the side of the carriage and measured you coolly.

Never afraid to be seen, you felt a shiver run up your spine when you were the sole focus of his attention. The particular way he caressed every inch of your body with curiosity made you wonder what his touch would be like. What kind of lover would he be?

“That’s a shame. Would love to meet a sheep herder,” slamming the metaphorical door shut at the yearnings of your heart, you let your mouth run wild.

And again, it delivered. It was not a lie, but it was bullshit. Yet Neil did not seem too bothered, staring at you for approximately 30 seconds before shooting you a wink worth another minuscule heart attack:

“I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” yet again, he patted your knee good-naturedly and just as quickly retracted his hand, distracting you with a question, “Can I ask you something?” you could not miss the sudden change of tone.

It sobered you up, forcing you to strengthen your spine and give Neil full attention. After the minutes of whimsical conversations, you considered taking that one step further. It was only a blessing that he did it first.

“Anything,” hoping your smile was just as welcoming as you wanted it to be, you trained your eyes on that unruly strand of hair that always seemed to fall into Neil’s eyes.

Your hands were itching with the want to brush it away.

Neil sighed as if bracing himself for something. Then he started to speak:

“When we met, you said that you’re not even sure you believe love exists, let alone feel it for that guy… Did you mean that?” the question reverberated in the carriage, which suddenly was too quiet.

You glanced at Neil, not knowing what to expect, only to find nothing but curiosity in his face. The question was one that you were asked before. Many times before. But it was the first instance that you wanted to answer it. There was no judgment hiding behind the question mark, only the desire to understand. To figure out what you were all about.

That was a reason enough for honesty. Keeping your eyes locked with Neil, you took a deep breath and replied:

“Yeah… It’s like, I know it’s a thing people feel, and I guess that must mean it’s real, but I’ve never… I don’t think it’s as much a big deal as everyone makes it seem to be” that familiar frustration bled into your words as you felt the years of misunderstandings inspire the speech and spur on the sincerity, “I like sex and all that, just not the… swoony, tender bullshit that fixes absolutely nothing and only seems to make people miserable” you finished the reply on a groan and measured Neil with a sceptical look “Satisfied?” that was the dreaded moment.

When part of the curtain has risen to reveal the truth underneath. The silence felt almost stifling, and you did not know why. It was all true. Every word has been spoken with honesty and came from your soul. From the soul that was tired of glorification always bestowed on love, feelings, and all things pink and fizzy, that complicated what could be simple. Even if love existed, you were sure you would rather never feel it. It was better that way. Simpler.

You doubted there was anything in the world that could convince you otherwise.

But still, that beat of silence before Neil reacted to your impassioned speech was torturous. You forced yourself to keep looking at him, awaiting that curt nod. Once it came, you let out a long sigh, feeling your body cave in on itself as if manifesting that sudden energy drop.

“Yeah, and also concerned,” Neil’s voice was the thread that kept you anchored to the moment, although it was impossible to tune out the underlining worry you had detected in his tone.

It was inconceivable. You could deal with disgust and ignorance, but concern was not something you understood. It made you helpless. You shook it off the best way you could – with a flirty smirk and a question:

“Are you a romantic, sweetheart?” the pet name rolled off your tongue with ease, meeting no resistance from Neil save for an uncertain smile and a dusting of pink along his cheekbones.

You could work with that.

The question, too, came from a place of curiosity. Sure, you could have left the topic where it was and rushed off into another silly conversation. But why should you? One look at the upcoming station showed you that the time was still running out, and you did not have much to lose. You met Neil’s bashful look head-on, patiently waiting for him to find the words.

“As much as one can be a romantic when they’re utterly untethered,” once he spoke, you could hear the sadness defining his confession and the constant weight of it dragging him down.

The choice of the word made you search his gaze for an explanation. It was impossible to believe someone this gorgeous could be lonely, let alone without a line of admirers waiting at their every beck and call. Yet the melancholy tinting his words suggested otherwise. Knowing the situation called for something more subtle than your usual repertoire of blatant flirting, you dropped your voice to a soothing tone and lowered your head to keep holding Neil’s gaze:

“Like ever or…?” trailing off, you watched as he seemed to wage an internal battle for close to a minute.

Even without knowing him that well, you could guess what it was about. It took a certain level of courage to be vulnerable in front of a stranger, to reveal one’s deepest regrets to someone not that familiar. Although you did not want to speak, you hoped the impassive yet open look on your face showed him that you would not pass judgment, no matter what it would be.

On its own accord, your gaze followed the sharp lines of his face, drawn closed with thought and up over the halo of his hair, shining in the fake yellow light of the carriage. If there was one word to describe Neil, it would be golden. You could only imagine the comparison would get more apt in the proper, warm light of those rare autumnal days in London that seemed to approach fast.

Before you had the chance to analyse that thought and place it under necessary scrutiny, Neil broke the silence:

“No, just for the past few years. No matter how hard I may fall, it’s never enough, so…” the blue eyes that rose to meet yours were burdened with resignation that, for a second, felt like it could crack your heart into two.

But you shook it off, reaching for the layers of frustration that always seemed present. For the annoyance at the society that had fooled people into believing that love was some holy grail of existence, the point of your miserable lives to live up to. When it was everything but. The familiar fire burned in your eyes as you clasped a hand over Neil’s shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly:

“See? Love’s overrated,” swallowing past the bitterness coating your tongue, you shot him a manic grin.

And ignored the alarms blaring in your head.

***

Before, those twenty minutes of commute between home and Canary Wharf were spent zoning out. Only sometimes, he could shake up the routine with a book or a particularly interesting podcast episode. After, it became an affair of watch-checking and foot-tapping until the train arrived at St. John’s Wood, and she would either be there or not.

Despite the impressions, Neil much preferred the after. Even if for the past two Wednesday mornings, he awoke with a strangely knotted stomach and a dumb smile of anticipation forming on his lips. That aside, it was nice to have something to look forward to.

Apart from the complexities of inverted physics, that is.

Timing the arrival on the Swiss Cottage platform for the right train was not an issue. It was something Neil had always done, unable to shake off the shackles of routine that seemed like second nature by now. When he boarded the Jubilee line heading towards Stratford, the anxiety set in like an old friend. It did not help that the carriage was packed this time, offering no available seats. With a tired sigh, Neil grabbed the nearest handrailing and stared out the window.

Without effort on his side, she soon enough came to mind. That happened a lot since that fateful afternoon. He had yet to decide whether it was a good or bad thing. For now, it was simply a fact. Like the anticipation of seeing her in two minutes, for the fourth time since the meeting. That also made Neil feel some way, but he was not brave (or willing) to understand it yet.

Perhaps the most crucial fact was that she, the newly appointed Cupid and the most baffling person he had met, was impossible to forget. And now, after three conversations that only expanded the mystery and made his curiosity insatiable, Neil did not try to forget. No, today (if she showed up), he would give her his number and let that determine the course. It was easy enough to think, harder still to execute.

By the time he had convinced himself that it was achievable and that it was alright to let go of the control this once, the train slowed to a crawling speed, and the lights of St. John’s Wood shone into the carriage. Before Neil could descend into another sort of anxious spiral, the doors slid open, and he had no choice but to expectantly stare at the commuters streaming in. He did not have to wait long, for right after the first row of impatient tourists and gravelly serious businessmen forced their way onto the Tube, she daintily stepped inside and flashed him another of those brilliant smiles.

It was nearly impossible to prevent his gaze from scanning her from head to toe like an uncontrollable Neanderthal that had caught the first sight of a woman. It was a reflex, a reaction Neil tried to stifle by forcefully dragging his eyes towards her face.

He was, without a doubt, an idiot.

The internal crisis had to be put on hold when she crossed that bit of space and leaned on the railing, curious eyes roaming over his face like they always did. Neil did not try to convince himself she was doing anything but checking him out.

“Ready to claim your reward?” the question helped him get the hang of the situation instead of losing his cool any minute.

That was highly probable with the way Cupid was staring at his face, seemingly unbothered by the movements of the carriage and the cramped space. It was also a good way of reminding her, though Neil did not doubt she would have forgotten. For reasons utterly inconceivable, the woman was driven to get his number.

The only excuse he had for waiting so long to let her have it was the constant disbelief that made it virtually impossible for Neil to trust she wanted it for real. As in not because of some elaborate joke that he was not privy to. And yes, that did happen. Once.

“Ecstatic,” her reply delivered in a perfectly monotone voice did make him focus. He watched as she glanced around the carriage, only now taking in the surroundings, “Looks like we’re standing today,” the observation seemed like a safe opener, and Neil immediately felt grateful.

It was that necessary push to make him relax a little and get out of his head. Even if only for the next quarter of an hour he would have with her.

“Do you have anything against that?” copying her pose, he leaned in closer, testing the luck that did not seem to have run out just yet.

If anything, she closed the space by another fraction, offering him a generous whiff of her perfume (Neil’s head did not feel ridiculously fuzzy because of it) and looked up at him through her eyelashes. Her lips curled into a tell-tale smirk that should have been the first clue of what was coming.

“Nope. I’m not too fussy about positions,” as soon as Cupid dropped her voice to a seductive timbre and grazed his shoulder with her fingers, Neil was done for.

He blinked twice, hoping to unfreeze the brain that continued to display the error404.exe. Because what the fuck was that? Who acted like this with near strangers?

Cupid, that’s who. Judging by her self-satisfied smile, she was pleased with the reaction. She brushed the lint he had not noticed before from his cuff and observed him silently. Despite the heart attack, Neil had to give her kudos for the attempt. He did so by slightly bowing his head in her direction and a wry smile:

“I walked right into this one, didn’t I?” once he looked up, the amusement still warming up his chest, even if tinted with bafflement, Cupid was waiting for him, expectantly meeting his gaze as if there was nothing in the world that could make her look away.

She was truly something else.

“Yeah, you did,” her knowing eyes cut through all the posturing Neil could ever hope to attempt as she took a deep breath and went in straight with the agenda, “Soo… Can I have your number?” that cheeky grin was still in place, adding to her charm.

Although Neil would be the first to admit she did not need additional charisma points or anything of the sort. She was already lethal. That realisation did not make him any keener to pull back or put a stop to the dance she had drawn him into.

Neil eyed her closely, feeling the weight of his phone in the pocket. The answer was yes, of course, but she did not need to know that… yet.

“Are you going to sign me up for the Tories news updates?” having noticed how she reacted to his smirks, he presented her with one when posing the question.

To anyone, it might have seemed worryingly specific. Cupid just measured him up with her piercing gaze and asked:

“… Did that happen before?” the deadly serious tone added to the ridicule, making Neil crack a smile.

“No, but it might,” he shrugged, hoping the joke had landed well enough to mask the awkwardness threatening to make a scene.

It was not that he did not feel comfortable around her or that there were some strong-founded beliefs she was not to be trusted. Instead, it was what it had always been. What Neil had hinted at during their previous conversation. It was that it had never worked out before. And it was hardly possible that it would now.

Especially considering what she had revealed that last time, too. It was best to be cautious. But that, in the face of those beautiful eyes and fascinating personality, was a challenge.

He did not even know yet just how true that statement would be.

“No, the worst you can expect is lame pickup lines and dumb memes,” unaware of Neil’s slow descent into madness, she replied to the previous question, intertwining a sardonic grin in between the statements “I’d also suggest nudes, but we’re not there yet, I think” it took him an embarrassingly long time to process her words with the mind foolishly lured into the safety of a normal conversation. Well, no more. Shit. „Unless-” before she could say another disastrous word and push him down the staircase towards the pit of insanity, Neil closed her mouth with his palm.

Anything was better than talking to her about prospective nudes. Even touching her face and getting shocked when the warmth of her breath hit his skin, forcing Neil to pull it back almost as fast as he had done it in the first place. She just stared back, relentlessly curious and unmoved.

“We’re definitely not there yet,” aware of the deep blush that had bloomed on his face like a sign of contagion, Neil dropped his gaze onto the floor and murmured the command, “Give me your phone,” the conversation was already a disaster, so might as well. Right?

She laughed and the sound was enough to draw him out of the hiding and look up. Neil already knew he would do whatever he could to make her laugh like that again. And then once more still.

Her warm hand slipped into his palm, passing the phone like a beacon of trust he did not know he could deserve. It was accompanied by a simple quip that still somehow made him feel lightheaded:

“Here, kind sir,” on retreat, her fingers brushed down the length of his digits, stopping for a split second at the tips of his fingers. The resulting sparks were certainly a figment of his imagination, “Any texting rules? Is there anyone that might intercept your messages?” her voice broke through another brief blue screen issue in Neil’s brain and forced him to focus.

Focus on opening the phone app on her phone and typing in his number correctly. The last thing he would have wanted was to fuck up and make a mistake, immediately losing any chances he would have had at a friendship with her. Yes, friendship. Even as an idiot, Neil knew that was all it would be. Which was fine. It really was.

Once he double-checked that the right digits were typed in, there came a second dilemma of the evening. The contact name. Neil stole a glance at her, still patiently waiting for an answer to her questions that he seemed inept to give. It offered a perfect stalling opportunity:

“Rogue mate, maybe, but it’s okay. I can live with his teasing,” it was something to worry about later, considering that no one knew about her yet. If asked, Neil was not sure he could explain why. The betraying part of his brain that always wanted to blurt out some incriminating thoughts admitted it was because he wanted those interactions only for himself, as a secret to cherish in the quiet of his mind.  He slammed the door on that pathetic voice and looked up at her with tentative hope sparking in his chest. It was just another risk to take, right? “Should we… keep this time and day as a standing arrangement thing?” not willing to bet even half a dime on her positive answer, Neil put his attention back on the topic at hand.

Literally. He was still holding her phone. The contact’s name was still empty. He had to think of something.

Then, right when his stomach clenched with that first tell-tale sign of anxiety, the right thing came to mind. The perfect thing.Neil fought the desire to grin like an English cousin of the Joker and saved his number, handing the locked phone back to Cupid. She did not check it, pocketing the device and turning her thoughtful gaze on him:

“Sure thing. I need time to warm you up for those nude pics,” she offered Neil a criminal wink and glanced at the display to check the approaching station.

The nonchalance had the chance of killing him before an inverted bullet would. He was willing to bet on it.

“Can’t wait,” he swallowed hard against the mess of thoughts and emotions in his head and glared at her.

He really could not wait. Maybe. Possibly.

It was both a curse and a blessing that her station was approaching fast, offering maybe three or four minutes more. The strange disappointment coated the back of his throat as Neil allowed himself to stare. To observe her, with her lively eyes and almost permanent cheeky smile. Even now, he did not dare ogle her body, already too aware of the heat of her presence so close to his orbit. The danger was too grave to consider what this would not become.

“I’ve got one more question,” her voice acted like the thread of Ariadne, leading him to the exit from the labyrinth of his own making. Neil met her gaze just in time to notice the playful sparks dancing there, “Are you a cook?” she leaned a little closer again as if testing his waning control and steadied herself against the sudden movement of the train with her hand resting on his shoulder.

Even through the cotton shirt, he could feel the heat of the contact.

It was almost enough to distract him from the ridicule of her question. Almost, because as soon as he had sobered up, Neil did not try to fight the smile pulling at his lips. She was ridiculous.

“No, unless we consider the Risotto Milanese, I can make from scratch,” giving her as good as he got, Neil offered her a wink and reached for the dwindling depositories of courage to cover her hand holding onto the railing.

Admittedly, he was enjoying the guessing game she had decided to make out of the situation. It was a better alternative to Neil telling her the truth, and 1) putting her in potential danger, and 2) making her believe something that did not sound real.

Cupid did not seem bothered by his actions and kept her hand where it was. Her eyes met his as she stated a simple wish:

“Count me in,” then, as if Neil was not yet aware of what a kind of woman she was, she licked her lips thoroughly.

He did not try to imagine what they would taste like.

“When?” as if possessing a mind of its own, his thumb rubbed invisible circles onto the skin between her knuckles.

Neil did not want to be responsible for the actions of his own body. Or for the thoughts that sprang into his mind whenever she gave him that sure smile and bated her lashes.

“You’ll see,” it was her turn to wink, and the confidence in her gaze almost made him believe she knew something he did not.

Like whatever was waiting in their future.

It was a blessing in disguise that the train was now approaching the Southwark station. Neil did not think he could be trusted with more time to spend next to her. Instead, he levelled her with what he hoped was a critical glare and asked:

“Has anyone told you that you’re a nightmare?” he knew there was no chance of losing that affectionate undertone in his voice or making ‘nightmare’ not sound like the most tender of pet names.

Apart from being an idiot, Neil was also a lost cause. It would seem.

The train yet again slowed to a crawling pace as the platform lights etched mirage-like constellations on her face. It was impossible to look away. So, Neil stared as she, the incomparable Cupid, slid her hand down the railing, away from his palm and tapped his wrist. Twice. As if he could have missed the first time.

Just as he was beginning to hope she would leave without giving him another heart attack, she leaned in, closing the space, and pressed a quick peck to his cheek. As soon as he had registered it was happening, it was already over, and Cupid was standing in the carriage doorway with that unchanging smirk on her face:

“More than once,” without waiting for a reply (not that Neil would have had one), she stepped out of the train and disappeared in the crowds of commuters.

Neil was an idiot, a lost cause, and undoubtedly screwed. One way or another.

***

/Unknown number, 5:15 pm/ Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.

/✝️, 5:20 pm/ Already?

/✝️, 5:20 pm/ God, you’re fast.

/ 🏹, 5:22 pm/ That’s the effect you have on me 😘

/ 🏹, 5:22 pm/ Clever emoji choice, I gotta admit. Took me a little to find you. What did I get?

/✝️, 5:25 pm/ You’ll see.

/ 🏹, 5:26 pm/ When?

/✝️, 5:30 pm/ Soon 😘

 / 🏹, 5:35 pm/ Ah, delayed gratification. Just wait till I get impatient.

/✝️, 5:45 pm/ And then what?

/ 🏹, 5:47 pm/ I’ll punish you. Something tells me you’d like that.

/✝️, 5:49 pm/ You’re a menace.

/✝️, 5:49 pm/ On second thought, I think I’ll have the nude pics you’ve mentioned.

/ 🏹, 5:50 pm/ Not yet, sweetheart. Practice what you preach first.

/✝️, 5:55 pm/ I’ll see you?

/ 🏹, 5:57 pm/ You’ll see me. You’ll get sick of me even.

/✝️, 5:59 pm/ Challenge accepted, Cupid.

[marcusrobertobaq]

I wonder what Kamski thought when Connor refuses to shoot Chloe. He calls Connor a deviant cuz the test was positive for empathy as he refused an order he gave, but at the same time he also seems to kinda know about things and calling Connor a deviant just to provoke a reaction. Connor's reaction is a pretty clear signal there's some brainwashing shit going on, this fear of being deviant.

I wonder what mf would do next with this info in mind.

He could conclude CyberLife indeed improved the autonomy capability in the RK 8° gen and how being programmed to make choices alone (at least for the most of the time) can speed up the hyper intelligent androids development process.

What he always wanted was to test was the android capability of feeling empathy for another one but til when this "longer leash" could impact in the emocional capacity interference in decision making? After all this emotional capacity is the reason androids often break free and throw every "how an android should act" rule in the garbage can. But what if they ain't got nothing to break free from? The simply reason Connor didn't deviate in that moment was cuz there were no orders related to anything besides questioning Kamski and the only person that could've ordered him left him... Alone to decide again. The difference between the "must" and the "should".

People usually expect dumb robots, silly tin cans, docile and obedient computers with no sense of self, only following a path set. I don't think this is what Kamski wanted, quite the opposite. The emotional capacity also helps but can also get out of control and have negative impacts, making an android become a savage animal with no sorta thing as "rationality" but urge in feel pleasure, in release everything they got accumulated inside - even if for 10 secs. A weak point that can be exploited and be the cause of defeat.

But what if the idea is the perfect balance between emotions, the sense of self and autonomy? All this smells like the cliche plot searching for the superior beings, the evolution, the next generation. It's often tied to the bio, enhancing humans, making super humans and shit. But what if mf is so fucking tired and already gave up the human race and thinks another "species" deserve the right to evolve and take humans place?

Must be fun realizing these superior beings, due to being based on humans, can replicate the same negative human traits mf been running from. Well, it's part of the testing process. Quite the scientific and social experiment, man. Then we got the $ part - androids are products, after all. Everybody wanna buy one to the job for 'em, right?

I can't help but think the way androids were spread so fast everywhere was all part of this "test" and also a plan to really replace humans. Make people realize androids are just better. I know there's the "why try X with a human if you can have an android to do it for you so you can spend your time doing what you really want?" propaganda but I think this propaganda is also something that helps in spreading the word, although not 100% just a lie. Make everybody so dependent on androids u just can't live without 'em or just remove 'em without having long term consequences. Kinda like a ... Addiction? It's the way they came to stay.

Part 1 concluded. Now what happens when these same androids start prioritizing themselves and their own kind leaving everybody in panic cuz they got so used to androids in a specific way mfs got too comfortable/with 'em guard low? 😂

Imagine people discovering the android detective can disobey laws to cover a megacorporation back, the famous painter's android being part of a project about autonomous androids - androids that can do whatever the fuck they want alone as long as they don't break a direct order set by a handler - not by mod, not by underground reprogram but by default, internationally. Cyber-motherfucking-Life, not a surprise but it would def scare mfs with low guard, mfs that thought something like this would never happen. And the idea of androids becoming 100% autonomous, not depending on humans for anything - mfs that believed AIs could never reach a consciousness status even if hyper-complex cuz they still defend someone's interests and priorities. But what happens when this someone's interest is exactly the androids doing everything by themselves, alone, cuz they just wanted and even better if goes against humans, the so called masters, interests?

Kamski is smiling and laughing if everything goes according to plan, bro. But I doubt things can ever go 100% according to the plan. As u see Kamski and CyberLife megacorp board got 'em diversions, it's a capitalist world. A part can even want the same thing but it can be for different purposes - purposes that diverge again, not to mention the method, the way X thing is achieved. Engineering a revolution, creating a new intelligent species ain't a small shit, it's some big shit for a trillionaire mehacorp like CyberLife and at the same time it's something negative in the public eye due to "androids being tools", something that can fuck with 'em credibility, reputation, image.

They knew it could happen eventually and had no way to actually not ever let it happen so they've prepared for it - in a way. If it ever happens we gotta have control over it, conditions they can set. But Kamski? I feel like he wants the opposite, he wants the androids free from CyberLife's hands cuz, let's be honest: android emotional capacity is a way of making money, deviancy is a way of making money. It's also a way of leaving more marks in history to stand up and say "we're the ones dealing with this shit now" imo. Dude wanna see chaos, wanna see androids actually raising against 'em masters not bowing down to 'em. If they manage to solve everything with minimal losses for each side it still proves androids are just better.

Honestly, I see the whole empathy thing in a quite fucked up way. Empathy to me is a mechanism, a behavior shared by social species. This mechanism can make a group united - make it become a group in the first place. Add mutual goals to it and we got shit going. If androids are capable of empathy towards other androids, they can not only prioritize androids over a human's order but also want to help the other android. This sentiment when shared can lead to a group being formed in the future, a group formed under similar thoughts, feelings and emotions. Maybe that's why Kamski wanted to test androids empathy capability? Besides the whole "there's no reason for androids have anything for other androids or even prioritize 'em out of personal choice cuz they're just brainless machines" shit, ofc. Maybe not only the empathy capability but any positive emotional response from android to android, anything that could make 'em want to disobey exactly cuz there's no reason to.

But what happens when androids can disobey...by default? Have positive feelings towards androids without breaking any expectation? And the worst: it being weaponized? Used in $omeone'$ be$t interest$? When even becoming free is simply part of the plan? A fucking test?

Geez, it already became a ramble. I'm outta here.

[sirowsky-stories]

The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 22 - Safety Not Guaranteed

Description: Although you were finally learning more about your new abilities, you were far from carefree. But Marcus wasn't about to let you hide away forever.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 6322 (5056 words added) Masterlist (this story)

   He didn’t say a word during the walk from Research, which was apparently housed on the deepest of the subterranean levels, up to the cells which were still underground but only just. He was tense and worried, though, so you knew once you got there, he’d need to try and sort through everything you’d both learned today.    You just hoped you’d both manage to stay calm for this conversation, since you were already on edge and risked losing control if you got too emotional.

   When you reached your accommodations, there was a guard posted outside your cell, and Marcus stopped in front of him before taking you inside.

   “Turn off all surveillance to this room immediately,” he ordered, and the guard relayed the command to what you assumed was a control center somewhere nearby.

   Then your partner escorted you in and closed the door behind the two of you, but he still checked that the cameras and microphones really were off before he started talking.    It looked to you as though he merely glanced at them, but you knew he could tell if there was still power running to them, which there wouldn’t be if his orders had been obeyed.    Nothing fried during his scrutiny, so it seemed they had respected his authority on this matter.

   “What did you learn about your powers, hermosa?” he finally asked, and he sounded very calm, if a bit tired, which put you at ease as well.

   “You didn’t hear? I thought you’d been there the whole time,” you wondered, but he shook his head.

   “I didn’t even know they’d brought you in for testing until I felt the entire building shake and learned that it came from Research, so I went to see if I could help.    It was no small shock to walk in there and find you sitting in The Diametric, or what was left of it, talking about how you’d healed the entire team in Florida.”

   Oh. He’d only heard that last part. Well, you were done with lying and keeping secrets, so you sighed and sat down on the bed, preparing for what was clearly going to be a long conversation.

   “Alright, first I need to apologize for keeping you in the dark. I’m so sorry for not telling you about the healing, it was never about me not trusting you.”

   “No, I know. You were trying to shield me from the inevitable moral conflict that comes with it. But I do hope you know you were wrong to do that.”

   “I knew the moment I made the decision not to share it, that it was wrong. I guess a part of me was hoping it would turn out to be a temporary thing, or at least something I could never repeat. The circumstances in Florida were so extreme, I genuinely didn’t know if the healing was something I conjured up out of desperation or if it was actually a part of my abilities.    But then that kid today…” you trailed off, and he stepped closer, suddenly looking very worried.

   “What kid?” he asked, and you realized he hadn’t been told about anything which had happened that day.

   “One of the kids who runs errands for Science. He’s been here a half dozen times to deliver food cubes, but this afternoon I lost my temper seeing him again, and I… killed him,” you explained, watching Marcus’ face turn pale and disbelieving as he kneeled in front of you. “Obviously I didn’t mean to. I was just trying to shove him back out the door, but I sent him flying headfirst into the wall instead.”

   You looked towards the wall in question, which seemed oddly unaffected by what had been so traumatic to you.    There hadn’t been any blood as the damage to the boy had been internal, but you’d never forget the sounds of his bones being crushed.

   “So, that’s what prompted Research to start testing, even though it was ahead of schedule.”

   “Yeah. I passed out after healing him, and when I woke up, I was under the dome.”

   “I wondered if you were the one who’d convinced them to skip ahead, but I guess it makes sense they’d feel pressured to assess you after something like that.”

   “I would’ve told you if I’d decided to take the risk of doing the tests early, honey. I know I’ve given you reason not to trust me where my powers are concerned, but that’s only because they scare the shit out of me. And you’re the one who makes me feel safe,” you assured him, and you could see in his eyes that he believed you.

   “Is the kid okay?”

   “Apparently, he’s even better than before. It seems I healed more than just the broken neck and skull, I took care of every little kink along the way as well.”

   “Hm. You’ll need to work on that, if this ability is gonna be safe for you to use going forwards.”

   “Yeah, I’ve thought about that,” you agreed, so relieved to finally be able to talk openly about this. “I can’t seem to decide what injury I wanna correct in a person, which obviously means I can’t choose how much energy I expend on them, but if I could learn to just take care of one problem, I could help people without it being so destructive to me.”

   “The problem there is how to train yourself to do that without risking your life each time. But we’ll get back to that.    What did you learn about the shield?”

   “Ugh, that it’s scarier than anything I could’ve imagined,” you said with an unpleasant shiver travelling down your spine at the memory.

   “How so?” he prompted while getting up and taking a seat beside you on the bed, taking your hand to help give you strength, which you sorely needed.

   “It comes from another dimension,” you explained, and he apparently didn’t know what to say to that, so you soldiered on. “I was trying to trace the energy back inside myself, looking for its origin or at least a way to better understand what the hell it is. But instead, I found myself somewhere else.    Somehow, my body has a direct line to this other place, where there’s no light or life. But it’s full of this massive energy that I can’t even describe, much less understand. And it feels kind of… alive.”

   “Alive?” he echoed with a sceptical brow. “You mean alive like a sentient being or more like bacteria?”

   “I don’t know. That’s what makes it so scary. If I could say for certain that it was some evil force or entity, then at least I’d know to steer clear of it.    But whatever this is, it’s so different, so other, that I can’t say I understand the first thing about it. It could be something malevolent, or it could just be my own fear making me misinterpret a mindless energy for the monster under the bed.    Kane thinks it’s just drawn to me because I act like a power cord, giving it an outlet into this reality, and frankly, that’s as good a theory as anything.”

   “You have good instincts, querida. If it feels dangerous then I’m sure you have good reason for sensing that. But I also think that this is a part of you now. And anything that connects to you is under your spell, not the other way around. Trust me on that.”

   “You’re sweet, but just because you’re powerless against my charms doesn’t mean everything in existence is,” you reminded him, while tiredly bumping his shoulder, but he remained steadfast.

   “Maybe not, but I know how powerful you were long before you had any supernatural abilities, and I don’t doubt for a single second that you can bend even the unknown energy of another reality to your wishes,” he replied, and you were about to argue that he shouldn’t joke about something this serious, when he made you realize he wasn’t trying to be funny at all. “I don’t think you need to fear it, so much as yourself.”

   That made you pause for a moment, trying to see his reasoning, but you drew a blank.

   “I don’t know what you mean by that?”

   “I mean how you’ve always doubted yourself,” he started, and you were a bit struck by how clear and resolute his thoughts were on this. He must’ve thought a lot about what he’d learned of your past recently, to come to such strong conclusions so quickly. “Even when you were fighting for your life against your own family, it wasn’t their cruelty that made you feel small. It was your belief in your own insignificance which held you down.    For years it was beaten into your bones, giving you no choice but to believe you were weak and inadequate, and even though you managed to prove them wrong, a part of you still believes them.”

   He paused then, giving you the chance to object in case he’d missed the mark.    You couldn’t think of a single thing to say, so he carried on.

   “But you’re wrong. You were never weak. And you’re stronger now than you’ve ever been before, not because of any powers you possess, but because you’ve dared to share yourself with me.    Love doesn’t cut you into pieces, hermosa. Bad people do. When love is reciprocated in equal measure it both roots you and makes you grow. And the more you share of yourself the bigger you become, just like the crown and roots of a tree living in its ideal conditions.”

   You couldn’t help but smile at the image he was painting. But you also couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if he, like so many artists, had embellished this picture in order to make it fit with the image inside his mind.

   “I know you don’t see yourself like that, and that’s precisely why you are your own worst enemy… You keep holding on to the person who fled the violence of your youth, because to your mind, that’s the strongest you ever were or ever will be.    You don’t see how much you’ve grown. How far your roots have spread, letting you stand tall and secure even against the toughest hurricanes.    But I do. So, please believe me when I tell you that you can and will control this energy, no matter where it comes from.”

   It was hard not to believe him when he talked like this, sounding so sure, but you were still scared, and that wasn’t going to magically sort itself out.    He was right about you holding on to parts of your younger self, though, which was something you hadn’t really realized before, and hearing him say it made you reevaluate your recent choices.

   “I really wish I could see myself the way you do. You make it sound like I’m invincible,” you smiled, not even joking, but he merely waited, knowing you’d have some objection or other. “I just… I’m so scared. Because even though I’ve spent my entire life fighting, which you might think would make me tough and strong, I’ve always felt like all I ever did was scrape by. Barely strong enough to save myself, each time I was forced to try.    And now suddenly I have all this power.”

   You looked into his eyes, letting him see the very real fear which was haunting you, and a concerned wrinkle appeared in his brow, as if this was the first time it occurred to him that you could be this fragile, but he kept quiet as he could see you weren’t done.

   “I don’t doubt that I have the strength necessary to wield it, I’ve always managed to somehow find just enough strength to keep going. What terrifies me is that I won’t know how or when to stop, when the day finally comes when I’m faced with something that really could break me.    Because for all my roots and however much I’ve grown… you have to see that all it would take to tear me down would be for someone to threaten the very same love that helps me grow.    If something happened to you or Missy, no matter how much control I ever managed to master, it would all disappear in the face of that loss. You must know that.”

   He did. You could see it in the lines on his face. The fear he couldn’t hide, even under such a massive faith and confidence as he still had in you.

   “I know,” he admitted, but his voice was still strong, showing no trace of the fear he clearly felt. “I’ve had those same thoughts myself, long ago, when my power was new and scary. And I made mistakes that I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life, so I’m the last person to promise you it won’t be difficult or that you won’t screw up.    All I can say is, you’re not alone. I’ll be here to help you, in any way I can. And if that day does come when the strength of your roots is tested… I’m sorry to say you won’t know what that’ll do to you until you’re in that situation. There is no preparing for it.    The best you can hope for is that you’ll remain true to yourself. To the core of who you are and what you believe in.”

   Once again, you wondered what those mistakes of his were, but you hesitated to ask, and not just because he hadn’t volunteered any details. Suddenly you wondered if you really wanted to know.    Because if someone as purehearted as this man had faltered so completely that he’d hurt someone… what hope was there for you to avoid doing the same?    Shivering at the thought, you decided to change tracks.

   “It’s getting late. You should go home to Missy, I’m sure she’s worried.”

   “Yeah. But I want you to know I’m gonna be here every day to help you.”

   “I know you will, but don’t forget about the rest of the world. They need you too,” you reminded him, but he shook his head at that.

   “The team can manage without me until we’ve sorted this out.”

   “Do you really believe that, or are you trying to convince yourself of it?”

   He sighed in a disapproving sort of way, but he didn’t argue.

   “I suppose we’ll find out,” he suggested, and then kissed you lightly before he stood to leave, and he abruptly looked completely exhausted, sliding a heavy palm over his face and rubbing at his neck. “I’ll come by before work tomorrow.”

   “No,” you protested firmly. “You’re dead on your feet, honey. You need to sleep, or you won’t be any good to anyone.”

   “I don’t sleep well without you anymore, no matter what’s going on,” he admitted, doing his best not to look sad, but he didn’t quite succeed.

   You couldn’t do anything about that, so you got up and hugged him instead, and he held you so tightly in return, almost as if he feared you’d disappear if he let you go.    But he had to. Tomorrow would be the start of a new challenge for you both, and he’d be back to supervised visits only. It would undoubtedly be a hard time, and there was no telling for how long it would last, so you both lingered in this moment, hoping to extend it into eternity so you wouldn’t have to face the coming day, and all the trying days to follow.

-=¤=-

   “Hermosa…” he sighed exasperatedly, after you’d changed the subject for the third time when you noticed what he was trying to steer the conversation towards.

   “Yes, okay, I know we’re overdo for that talk,” you snapped back, a little harsher than intended, but it had been a bad day overall and you’d hoped that his visit would be nothing but a bright spot, free of all difficult subjects.

   “You can’t avoid it forever.”

   “I know that, Marcus, but it’s not like I don’t have enough to stress about already.”

   “And this isn’t something you should ever feel stressed about.”

   “Well, I’m sorry but that’s just not possible for me,” you almost growled with frustration. “Besides, I’m no clearer on what I want now than I was two months ago.”

   “All the more reason to talk it through,” he persisted, and he wasn’t wrong. “My feelings haven’t changed.”

   “I didn’t expect they would have.”

   “Did you hope they would have?” He posed the question without a hint of accusation, and yet, you somehow felt provoked.

   Which was why, rather than answer while you were still reacting to his query, you folded your arms over your chest and started slowly walking along the edges of the cell, while you tried to take an honest look at yourself and what you felt.    Your history with your own family had always been in the way, somehow, but now that Marcus knew about it, things were different and you needed to try and see them in this new light, even though it scared you.    The idea of becoming a mother was still entirely perplexing to you.

   “I would never wish for any part of you to change, and especially not your love of family,” you eventually answered him.

   “I appreciate that,” he simply remarked, waiting patiently for you to come to the real issue in your own time.

   He was standing in the middle of the room while you kept circling slowly, using the motion to keep your mind in a forward-thinking mode.

   “Tell me something… Would you be terribly disappointed if it turned out I can’t conceive at all?” you started, although you were unsure of why you needed him to clarify his feelings before you felt like you could get started on yours.

   “No. I’d be sad, but I wouldn’t be devastated. We’re still a family, whether we grow or not.”

   “And what about… if I asked for us to not even try?”

   That made him turn to face you, as your trudging had placed you to his left when you delivered the question.    You stopped moving when his gaze connected with yours, held in place by the indecipherable expression in his entire body.

   “I would want to know why. Why you would deny yourself the possibility when I know how much love you have to give,” he suggested, and by then, you’d figured out what it was you were hesitating to tell him.

   “Growing up, I saw so many families around the neighbourhood. People who looked so happy together. Children who smiled and laughed with their parents, without a worry in the world.    They were so fortunate, and yet they had no idea, because they’d never known anything else. And I would sit in the kitchen window and watch them, wondering if their mothers tucked them in at night. If she read to them… sang lullabies…    I envied them, sure. But most of all I wished they would never lose that security. That they’d never learn what it feels like to have no safe place in the entire world to run to.”

   He didn’t say anything, and neither of you had moved. But there was a pain, or perhaps sorrow, growing in the depths of his eyes while he listened.    Your eyes were already filled with tears, knowing where you were going with this.

   “When I was dying on the kitchen floor after Danny had stabbed me, I remember thinking that we must’ve been mistakes. That we could never have been meant to exist. Because how could any mother want children… only to end up hating them?”

   Your voice faltered at the end, and Marcus instantly knew why.    He was right in front of you less than a second later, taking your face between his palms and staring at you with a mixture of incredulity and shock.

   “No… No, sweetheart. You’re not capable of doing that.”

   “If you’d seen her before dad died, you might’ve said the same thing about her,” you fully cried now, finally able to admit to yourself that what you feared about motherhood was that you knew everything about the worst possible sides of it, yet almost nothing about the good.

   And without that, how could you hope to imbue a child with anything but darkness?    It was different with Missy, because she’d already been her own person when you’d come into her life. Her birthparents had already solidified her character and made her the strong and clever person she’d been from the moment you’d first met her.    But an infant? A blank slate, genetically hardwired to imprint on its mother…

   “Listen to me,” he broke through your internal self-criticism, pulling you even closer to his own face until all you could see were his eyes. “You get teary-eyed when you see a child in the supermarket find their lost toy. You laugh at kids playing hopscotch in the street or arguing about who won the latest round of tag…    You are not capable of ever hating an innocent baby.”

   “I can harm someone without hating them-…” you tried to argue but he cut you off.

   “No. Not like that. What she did to you and your brother requires a complete lack of empathy, a total inability to feel compassion, and a heart incapable of feeling love.    So, unless you’re about to tell me you’ve been fooling me into thinking you love me all this time, this idiotic argument is over.    If you don’t want to have kids, then we won’t. But that’s the only reasoning I’ll accept. Anything else is irrelevant.”

   You had to close your eyes against the clarity in his, because it was almost too much to bear. He was so sure. So absolutely confident in the accuracy of his assessment. And despite all the years you’d spent believing in your own inadequacy, this unwavering faith he had in you was enough to shift your belief.    As if all you’d needed all those years was just for someone to prove to you that you were wrong.

   “Yes…” you whispered, before opening your eyes again, finding his still just as clear before you. “I want to.”

   A quiet surprise came over him as he realized what you meant, as though he really hadn’t thought you’d manage to come to an answer already. Or perhaps just not that one. But it made him very happy.    He was trying to downplay it, probably so you wouldn’t think he would’ve been devastated after all if your answer had been the opposite, but you could see the joy radiate from him even so.    And honestly, it was a relief, because his happiness made it feel right.

   He moved so softly when he leaned in to kiss you, as if your decision had finally allowed him to relax some major muscle which had kept him unknowingly tense until now. And the kiss itself was also soft. Tender and loving to the point that it awoke a new kind of passion in you. Not heated and craving, but something deeper, moving slowly and gradually through your body, sparking a kind of desire you’d never felt.

   It wasn’t until his kiss intensified, slowly growing more wanton as the familiar heat started to blossom, that you began to understand what you were experiencing. It was the primal desire to be bred, something you’d never understood before, but which was now quickly becoming almost suffocating, it was so strong.    He was suddenly feeling so good you heard yourself moan out loud in between kisses, somehow not at all bothered by the fact that there were cameras and microphones trained on you.

   But when he decided to act on your increasingly intense need for him, grabbing your waist to try and move you over to the bed, you felt his shoulders slump before he unexpectedly broke away from your lips and released a deep sigh.

   “Hermosa… will you please remove the barrier you just placed between us?” he patiently asked, though not without a hint of irritation.

   He still couldn’t feel your shield, but he could tell when you wrapped yourself in it if he touched your skin, because it wouldn’t allow him to actually feel you. And although there was no real reason for it, realizing that you’d instinctively decided to block his access to you was enough to kill the mood.

   “Sorry…” you offered, but even though you dropped the shield, he could tell the heat had dissipated within you, and a frustration you’d begun to become familiar with settled into his frame.

   “Please stop doing this, you know you’re not gonna hurt me,” he practically begged, but you couldn’t just shut off your instinct to protect him, even from yourself. “You’ve been here for almost two months now, even though you’ve been cleared by everyone to come back home already. Why are you hiding?”

   It made you feel guilty when he phrased it like that, but you weren’t going to risk accidentally hurting someone again, and especially not him.

   “You know why. We’ve had this conversation before.”

   “And you’re still not convincing me. I understand your need to have better control over what you can do before you’ll feel it’s safe to come home, but you crossed that hurdle weeks ago. You haven’t failed a single test since your first week of training, everyone involved with your assessment have been amazed at how quickly you’ve mastered your abilities, so that excuse just isn’t gonna fly anymore.”

   “A single nightmare is all it takes for me to accidentally turn our home into a pile of dust, and yet you’re somehow just fine with having that kind of threat sleeping next to your daughter… Explain that to me,” you questioned, to which he stepped back and turned in a little circle, mumbling something to himself in Spanish.

   You didn’t know what it meant but you understood the tone just fine. He was tired of having this conversation.

   “You’re not going to do that. You love both of us far too much, you’d instinctively shield us before anything like that could happen.    I mean, the one thing about our relationship that’s always been out of your control has been how you’ve reacted to me when I’ve touched you, and now look at you. You just stopped me from touching you while I was kissing you.”

   “It’s not good enough,” you persisted, and he almost growled with frustration, so you tried to explain better. “Yes, I can stop myself from getting lost in the sensation, at the start of it. But you know how easily we both get lost in the rapture, neither of us aware of our surroundings or even what our powers are doing when we come apart for each other.”

   “So what? We should just never make love to one another again?” he posed, but it felt much sharper than he’d probably intended, and he could see you recoil slightly, which made him change tracks. “Sweetheart, this is the safest place you could possible be. If there’s anything that’s gonna survive us taking a test run, it’s gonna be this cell.    So, if you’re really worried about losing control, test yourself. Use me as your provocation, let me throw every trick I have at you, and if you can keep from tearing the walls down, you’ll know for sure that it’s safe for you to come home.”

   You actually hadn’t considered that, oddly enough. But he was right. This was the most optimal place you’d ever find, even if you were fairly certain you could bring it down if you really had to. The Diametric was proof of that.    Still, this was the one argument you hadn’t gotten past in terms of feeling okay with returning home, despite how positively surprised you’d been yourself at your rate of success once the training had started.

   The Research Division had helped you understand exactly how the dimensional energy was distributed through your body, the path it took and how you could direct it to achieve different intensities in how it flowed from you, and where it went once it left you.    This meant you’d quickly been able to learn how to regulate and not drain yourself during training, enabling you to work for hours on end, getting familiar with every nuance of the energy, which had helped to soothe your fear of it.

   What had also helped tremendously, was that Science had finally managed to create the nutritional supplements a couple of weeks into your powered workouts, meaning you didn’t have to constantly pause to eat, or fear passing out if you happened to lose control for a second.    They’d made them in the same format as regular energy bars for you, and they tasted largely similar as well, although you could still tell that the flavours were entirely artificial.

   You’d been given entire boxes of them and encouraged to eat at least three a day regardless of how much regular food you enjoyed, and it had made a world of difference.    Not that it mattered much to your current predicament. You just caught yourself briefly considering whether you should chew one down before copulating, or if it might be better to wait until after.    Which meant you’d already decided to go for it.

   “Zap the fucking cameras and mic’s already…” you ordered, immediately feeling the desire build again, knowing you were about to be thoroughly satisfied for the first time in months.

   He smiled wickedly, and you felt his current pass through you on its way to short-circuit all the electronics in the cell, including the lights.    There were no windows in the cells, so when the lights died, the darkness was complete, leaving you blind. But you still knew where he was and where the walls and the bed were, because you could sense his current reverberate off them.

   You knew he was approaching and opened your arms to welcome him. His hands found your back without any fumbling, and he squeezed you to him while he dug his face into your neck and kissed the base of your throat before moving up to your jaw.    Tearing at his long-sleeved t-shirt, you felt him move back just enough to let you pull it over his head, and then he immediately started tugging the bottom of your top up to let his hands find your warm skin.

   You’d missed him so much, and the feel of him close to you again was intoxicating, which did scare you but was also exactly what you hoped for, since the whole point of this was to test yourself under mind-numbing circumstances. And as always, the more of his skin connected to yours, the more lost in him you became.    He started pulling you towards the bed without breaking away from you a single inch, even when he slipped your top and bra off. And when you reached it, he sat down, still holding you close, leaving you straddling him.

   There was something like a hum within him. A quiet vibration you could only just detect, whispering about how much he needed you and how torturous it had been for him to not get to be with you all this time.    Feeling it made your determination to not lose control so much more solid, compressing all the warring elements within you, summarizing them until you were left with just the base emotions behind them: fear and love.

   And out of those two, you already knew which was stronger.

   Allowing yourself to lean into your love for him, you stopped trying to control every aspect of what you’d become, trusting your heart to never willingly harm him, as you kissed him with every grain of passion you possessed.    He felt the shift in you, the surrender, and responded by letting his own barriers fall away, diving headfirst into his own pool of desire.

   You managed to tear away from him and get up from his lap to remove the rest of your clothes just before he turned feral, holding nothing back in his need to feel and claim you, once again. And like every other time you’d been with him, you were amazed at how deep his passion really went. How he could keep craving you even when he was fully embedded inside you.

   His current hit you with full force the moment he felt you clamp down on him, forcing him to inch his way inside, as if you required an entry-fee of excess sensation before you’d let him settle, and you felt your own power immediately respond, twisting and melding with his, wanting to dance to his unique tone. And it was remarkably pleasing when you felt his power accept the invitation and begin to twirl with yours.

   Still, nothing cracked. No mass of energy filled the room or threatened to tear the fabric of space apart.    Even now, when you were lost in ecstasy and even more lost in your man, the only direction your power went, was towards him. All you wanted was to feel more of him, to be closer to him, in any way you could.

   And as always, he somehow knew exactly what you craved.    Lifting you up, he turned you both to the side and set you down on the mattress underneath him, never letting you slip even a hair’s breadth away from him, and then he started driving into you, as much and as hard as your pussy would let him.    Each hit was accompanied by a jolt of energy, although if it was primarily coming from him or you, you couldn’t possibly determine. You couldn’t even tell where your power ended and his began.

   You felt yourself close in on your peak, and somewhere in the part of your brain which was still able to formulate thoughts, you knew this was the moment when you might truly loose it. But against the purity of this kind of pleasure, there was nothing you could do.    The climax was entirely physical. All thoughts seized to exist as the explosion of hyper-sensation rocked through your body again and again, completely unaware that the rest of the world even existed in those few moments.

   But you were more deeply connected to Marcus than ever before, so you felt him come with you, felt his current sparkle like actual fireworks against yours, and you delighted in the warmth of his seed as it spilled into you in thick ropes, already wishing it would take hold.    His strong arms around you shuddered with the force of his release, and yet somehow, he found a rhythm with yours. Your bodies so attuned to one another that you both effortlessly followed the other, even when there was no rhyme or reason to what you were doing.

   Collapsed and exhausted, you just laid there together, breathing heavily in perfect sync without a care in the world, even though anyone could walk in at any moment.    Your mind was still in shambles, but you could feel every inch of your body. Where it was pleasantly smothered by his, where the pearls of sweat had accumulated, where his release was dripping down onto the sheets as he softened with relaxation.

   And you could feel his current recede, slowly untangling itself from yours and then both powers fading away, leaving a strange kind of softness behind, as if the very air had been laced with both the gentleness and fierceness of your shared love.    You were probably imagining that last part, but it didn’t matter.

   Gradually regaining your ability to think and reason, you were happy to note that the room was still in one piece, as evident by the fact it was still pitch black in there. Had there been even a crack made to one of the walls, light would’ve filtered through, as the holding rooms really were cells, standing separate from the larger space they occupied, so that the destruction of one, however unlikely, wouldn’t damage the structural integrity of the entire floor.

   “I told you,” your partner breathlessly whispered in your ear, before dragging his head closer to yours so he could kiss your cheek.

   “You did,” you smiled in return, turning your head so you could meet his lips with yours.

   “Are you ready to trust yourself now?” he asked, and there was such hopefulness in his voice, but you also heard the slight trepidation.

   The fear that you still might not wanna put yourself to the test of leaving this safe place.

   “A lot more than before, yes. But this doesn’t mean I have complete control. I still don’t know what’ll happen if I get angry, or terribly sad,” you admitted, needing to keep things real for your own sake.

   “And I’m telling you, this proves you can handle it. I know because when I turned away from you out of fear of my power, it was finally letting myself lean on you, believe in our shared strength, that I was able to handle it.    So, lean on me. Because even if I’m not there beside you, I’m always in your heart. With what our relationship has already overcome, you have to know by now you can trust that much to be true.”

   He sounded nearly desperate towards the end, and you were once again reminded how hard it must’ve been for him to be separated from you, not due to any outside force, but because you’d chosen to stay away.

   “Please, hermosa, tell me this means you’re coming home. I miss you so much,” he full on begged now. “Please, come home so I can sleep again.”

   You tightened your arms around him while whispering your response in his ear, and felt him react with the purest relief and gratitude anyone could be capable of feeling.

   “Okay.”