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introspectivememories · 11 months ago

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what's wrong with data analyst bernard?

summary: tim's a workaholic ceo. bernard is, to put it simply, a down-on-his-luck loser with a kid to take care of. somewhere along the line, they meet. (very loosely based on the 2018 hit kdrama, "what's wrong with secretary kim?")

A/N: for @chamiryokuroi bc this fanart has given me brainrot since the moment i saw it. but also bc, i missed writing and your art helped. i hope you like it. (more notes at the end.) (AO3 LINK)

Today is a good day, Bernard thinks happily, brand new ID badge bouncing on his tie. It's his first day at Wayne Ent. and Mori had sent him off with a hug and muttered, "have a good day, Tou-san." It's been bouncing around in his head all day. Tou-san, Tou-san, Tou-san, he's really a dad now. He's got to make sure Mori has everything he needs and this new job is going to make sure he can do that.

Shaking his head once to clear it, he takes a sip of the complimentary coffee a team member bought him for his first day. His team leader, Young-joon Lee, is taking him on a tour of the building. Young-joon is a wonderful man in his late 30s but it's very clear that he's been consumed by the office lifestyle.

"...and here is our magnificent lobby!" Young-joon is saying as he tunes back in. His team leader spreads his arms wide out as he speaks, "Everyone knows the lobby but it's my personal philosophy that making friends or at least being on amicable terms with the ground floor staff will make your life easier."

Bernard laughs politely, "I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times being nice to the host at the restaurant I used to work at saved my butt during rush hour."

"A man after my own heart!" Young-joon says, smiling widely as he leads him to the help desk.

Bernard tilts his head up to look at the skylight. It's a gorgeous thing with little animal motifs running alongside it. It lights up the lobby bringing a welcoming feeling into it. With the sunlight pouring into the room, along with the din of busy workers in slacks running to and fro, it really feels like stepping into a movie.

Are you seeing me Darls?, he thinks with a childlike glee, hand coming up to thumb at his badge again, I made it!

"This, my friend," Young-joon says, pulling up to the help-desk, "is our wonder-duo. Tamara and Abhishek. They practically run this building. Lord knows we'd be tripping all over ourselves without them."

Tamara and Abhishek smile as they get introduced.

"They run this building?" he asks confusedly.

"You see, young padawan," Abhishek says, "not only do we help the people that come in here asking questions or for instructions, we also answer any questions the staff has for us."

"Things like, 'What's HR’s number?' or 'Can you page Data for me?' or 'No seriously, I'm calling HR on this man right now. What is their number?'" Tamara says grinning.

Bernard laughs. It feels like that's all he's been doing since he got here. "You have to tell me the story on that one day."

"Sorry," Tamara says, faux-apologetic, "the minimum clearance on that story is half-a-year. Gotta level up."

His cheeks hurt from smiling. This is his and Mori's new beginning. This is where they level up. Nothing's gonna stop him now.

"Do you know the story behind that one?" he asks, turning to Young-joon.

"Of course! But where would be the fun in telling you? You have to stay the six months and if luck comes my way, longer."

"You want me for longer?"

"Of course, I saw the way you worked during those practice problems in the interview. I had to fight the other team leaders for you. It was brutal."

"Get back I say!" Young-joon says, miming a sword fight. A pleased warmth builds in his chest; they wanted him, they wanted him!

Darls you better be fucking watching this. I'm movin' up in the world.

"Ooh, send me that footage. I wanna see our newest recruits skills," Abhishek says.

"You got the data team fighting over you?" Tamara asks, eyebrows raised, "I wanna see it—"

Whatever she was going to say is cut off by the sound of both of their pagers pinging. Immediately going stock still, they start typing on their computers.

Bernard turns to Young-joon confused but his team leader looks like nothing is out of the ordinary.

"The boss is coming." Young-joon says, like that's a reasonable explanation for two people shutting down in the middle of the conversation, "It's always quite a spectacle and they always have to notify the other execs. Just watch."

Still, the boss? Maybe Bruce Wayne will say 'hi' to him and he'll charm the CEO and Mr. Wayne can figure out a way to—

No, no. He's done making those kinds of fantasies. Nobody is coming to help. Bernard is going to figure out his life on his own, he is going to take such good care of his kid, and he is not going to wait for some rich billionaire to swoop in and take care of him. He got this far didn't he? He'll get even farther.

He and his team leader lean against the help desk sipping coffee as they wait for the CEO to come in and sure enough, a black Rolls Royce pulls up to the driveway in the front. The minute the door opens, flashes from the paparazzi's cameras start going off. Out steps a bodyguard in a black suit with an umbrella opened. From below the umbrella he sees a nice pair of brown loafers step out. The CEO seems to be wearing a navy blue suit today. The paparazzi roars and the flashes increase.

"Oh wow," a man remarks a few feet away from him, "the circus is strong today, huh?" His friend laughs.

A woman wearing red heels steps out after the CEO, the paparazzi flashes decrease dramatically. More bodyguards exit after the woman and form a square around the CEO and his assistant/secretary. They shuffle towards the entrance where he sees the elderly doormen greet the executives with a smile. Whatever they say is lost to the sound of the city but the doormen laugh and push the doors open.

Young-joon's been making small talk throughout the entrance and Bernard tries to keep up but whatever the hell is going on at the entrance is way more interesting than anything his team leader is talking about. As they enter the guards spread out and dissolve the square. The woman comes into view first, red heels with a black slacks and a white button down. She's holding a long coat in one hand and a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She's gorgeous and clearly the one in charge, going by the way she barks orders at the guards.

Young-joon says something and he turns around to respond, grabbing his coffee cup off the desk counter. His CEO's loafers tap across the lobby's marble floor, something about it is comforting. A lull in the room's conversations causes the CEO's voice to carry over.

"...Tam, make sure the quarterly reports are on my desk by at least 4 today and make sure to push back the sales meeting by 30 minutes to an hour, the board wants to talk — Oh Mr. Bardakcı! Thank you for stay—..."

Bernard's heart jackrabbits in his chest. He knows that voice but- it can't be. It's not possible; he chose Wayne Enterprises for a reason. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be at his father's company. Unless... there was a merger? No, that seems like the kind of thing the news wouldn't've shut up about. He would've known.

When was the last time you had time to sit down and read the news, Bear? Darls says inside his head

She's right. With filing for custody of Mori and graduating from college and the job search, he hasn't had time for much else. It's entirely possible that he could've missed one of the biggest mergers of the decade.

Fuck, Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Bernard was supposed to be moving on. He was supposed to be building a life for himself away from the shadows of his childhood. He was supposed to be forgetting that Tim Drake ever existed.

He has to make sure though. Turning his body around, he prays that it's not the man he thinks it is. But sure enough, there stands Tim Drake, resplendent in a navy blue suit and a golden tie.

Golden ties for golden boys, he thinks absentmindedly.

The suit fits him perfectly, stretching across his shoulders and wrapping around his waist. Even the tie looks knotted perfectly. How long did it take him to learn, Bernard wonders. He could never get it right back in high school. Does his assistant Tam do it- no, no! This is why he didn't apply to Drake Industries. Bernard can't do anything around Tim and Tim is never going to care enough about him to stay.

Tim's head seems to be turning in his direction and Bernard whips his head back to make sure Tim doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him. His hand twitches violently enough that the coffee cup falls out of his hand and spills all over the floor. The cup rattles deafeningly on the floor. Bernard can't fucking breathe.

"-ernard? Bernard!" his team leader's voice cuts through the haze in his head. Young-joon looks concerned, "Are you okay?"

He blinks slowly, "...What?"

"I said, 'Are you okay?’ You look like you've seen a ghost?"

No, Bernard thinks, seeing Darls would be preferable to whatever level of hell I've found myself in.

"I'm—, I'm fine." he says rather unconvincingly. His eyes dart back to the spill, "What am I saying? There's a large puddle of coffee on the floor. I—, I should get some paper towels for that."

"Do you have any paper towels, Wonder-Duo?" he asks, trying desperately to ignore Tamara and Abhishek's concerned looks.

"I already called the custodial staff," Tamara says slowly, like she’s trying not to spook him, "but if it makes you feel any better," she pulls out a huge stack of paper towels, "go crazy, I guess."

Bernard takes a handful of paper towels and gets to work. The cleaning is meditative and with each swipe of the paper towel, the puddle gets smaller. Bernard pretends the puddle is his feelings for Tim. Swipe, forget about the 4pm milkshakes and his laughter when Darls snorted milk out of her nose. Swipe, don't think about the way he used to smell. Swipe, he left and never looked back; you don't look back either.

The tap, tap, tap of loafer on marble is getting closer to them for some reason. Why is it getting closer? Does it not have staff meetings, market research, and people to leave behind?

"What is going on here?" Tim asks.

"Nothing much, sir." Abhishek responds, "Newbie just spilled some coffee."

Abhishek, no!

"Oh is that all? And he took the initiative to start cleaning instead of waiting for the custodial staff. You made a good choice, Young-joon."

"Thank you, sir!" Young-joon says, "I was taking him on the tour when you came in. Most newbies love the show so I thought we'd stop here for a little bit."

Tim laughs. Bernard hates that his heart still skips a beat at the sound.

A pair of brown loafers and a wool-covered knee slowly appear in his vision. Why is Tim crouching in front of him? Why won't this man leave him alone?

"This looks like quite a lot of work, let me help."

You can help by leaving me the hell alone, he thinks uncharitably.

"I hope you found the facilities to your liking," Tim continues, like he hadn't heard Bernard's thoughts, "My name is Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO."

I know, he wants to say. I know you're Tim Drake. I know you like to skateboard and that you stared at Tony Hawk's photo for an hour every day in high school ‘cause didn't want to be one of those people who didn't recognize him. I know you struggled with your dad not really being there. I know you loved Mrs. Winters as much as you loved your mom. I know that you like history more than any other subject even though your best was always math.

Bernard says nothing instead.

Tim laughs awkwardly and Bernard knows he isn't helping the conversation along but whatever, he's allowed to be petty, right?

"I assure you, whatever you heard in the tabloids and the news, isn't true. I promise I won't bite…," Tim’s voice trails off as Bernard lifts his head.

"...Bernard?" Tim whispers, he looks like he's seen a ghost.

Bernard tries for a smile, he's pretty sure it comes out looking like a grimace.

"Sir," he says nodding curtly, hands still moving to sweep up the coffee puddle.

Tim's hand reaches out to touch his face, as if to make sure Bernard is really there. Bernard recoils as Tim's hand grazes his cheek. Tim's hand hangs in the air uselessly.

"Bernard?" Tim says again, as if to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.

"That's my name, Sir," he says through clenched teeth, "don't wear it out."

He can feel Young-joon and the Wonder-Duo's confused stare but he says nothing. What would he even say, really?

Hey, this is my old friend Tim Drake? Hey, I used to know him like the back of my hand? Hey, our best friend died and it feels like I'm the only one still grieving? Hey, in my junior year, five different gangs shot up my school and my best friend died in my arms and he left and I had to pick up the pieces by myself? Hey, I'm the idiot that's still in love with Tim Drake?

The clack of Tam's heels comes as a welcome distraction.

"Tim!" she says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, "What the hell do you think you're doing? We have to go talk to the board. Build rapport with your employees later."

Tim stumbles to his feet, "Yes, but—, I—, This is—"

He sounds like he's glitching. Bastard. Is it really such a surprise to see Bernard in a well paying job? Even Tam is starting to look a little concerned now.

"Explain later," she commands, dragging Tim behind her. Bernard keeps his head down and continues wiping up the coffee puddle. Sneaking a glance upward shows him that Tim keeps turning back around to stare at him.

For a moment their eyes meet, brown against blue. 'Bernard?' he sees Tim mouth. Bastard, saying his name so many times. Doesn't he know what that does to Bernard? Why does Tim insist on breaking his heart again and again and again? Was once not enough?

He's tired of putting these walls up and just for a second, he lets them come down. Let Tim see the entirety of his brokenness. Tim already has his heart, he can have this too.

'Tim' he mouths back, smiling sadly. Tim looks stunned and the rage that had been simmering in his gut begins to boil over.

Do you see what I've become? Do you see how thoroughly Grieves ruined me? Is this not your doing too? Why did you leave? Have you ever visited Darla? Why was it so easy for you to not look back? Was I not your friend? Or was it just a time pass? Why wasn't I enough for you to stay?

He watches until the elevator doors close, separating him from Tim once again. His body sags like a marionette cut from its strings and his fingers clench uselessly around the coffee soaked paper towels. A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches.

"Hey, hey," Young-joon soothes from where he's crouched right next to him. When did Young-joon crouch down? How much time has he missed? "It's just me, Bernard. Are you okay? What was that? Does our CEO know you?"

He exhales shakily. He needs to get out of here. He needs to sob hard enough he throws up. He needs the steady press of a knife on his back. He needs things he's not allowed to have anymore.

Bernard shoots up so fast the world spins around him. holding onto the desk for support, he tries to smile at his team leader. It stretches across his face misshapenly.

"I'm—, I'm sorry," he says stumbling over his words in a rush to get them out, "I have to—"

He has to what? Pretend to not see Darls out of the corner of his eye? Pretend like his hands don't have blood on them? Pretend like he isn't seeing bullet wounds every time he closes his eyes?

"—go to the bathroom," he finishes lamely. Gathering up all of the paper towels, he walks away dazedly, ignoring Young-joon's calls behind him. He shoves the towels in the nearest trashcan, letting his feet lead him to the nearest bathroom.

The bathroom is thankfully empty when he enters and he locks the door behind him. Sliding down the door, he exhales shakily. There's not enough air in this room; he can't breathe. The fluorescent lights hum above their coverings. The one on the left flickers. Who's bright idea was it to install school lights in a business office's bathroom?

The world outside the bathroom rushes on too loudly. Somebody is talking about their vacation. Someone is bemoaning their presentation today. His chest is getting tighter. His hands come up to tug on his hair. Why can't he breathe?

The exhales are coming quicker and quicker. Something comes tapping down the hallway. It's the gunmen, it has to be. A quick glance down tells him all he needs to know: he's covered in blood.

It's Lila's, he thinks dazedly, I had to carry her into the office. Or no, it's Olu's. I held him when he died. He said, he said, what did he say?

Why can't he remember? He hits his head with the heel of his palm.

Think he tells himself, we have to tell Olu's parents what he said. He said—, he said—.

His body sags.

Oh now he remembers. He said, "I don't wanna die Bernard."

A whimper tears itself out of his throat and he slaps a palm over his mouth. There's blood smeared across his face now, he must look like he walked out of a slasher film. He has to be quiet. if he's too loud, the gunmen will find them and then they'll all be dead.

Cry quietly, he tells himself, Darls doesn't need—

Darla! How could he forget about Darla with a hole in her gut? He needs to get to her. Lurching forward, he scrabbles across Mrs. Castillo's linoleum floor. He's smearing Olu's blood everywhere. Why won't Nikhil stop fucking crying so loudly? Goddamn freshmen and their hysterics. Where is Tim? Is he safe? He can't lose both friends today, please Lord, please.

BANG!

A violent flinch tears through his body. He sobs audibly this time, gagging on his spit. It's the gunmen, it has to be. He hasn't even held Darls' hand or counted Tim's moles for the last time. Where are the Darls? She shouldn't be alone. She doesn't like violence like this.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" a voice asks from behind him.

He freezes. Slowly he turns around and nearly yells in shock. Falling back on his butt, he stares up at his friend.

(He has to be quiet, he has to be quiet, he has to be quiet-)

Darls is standing behind him still in her crop top and cargo pants. Her once smooth midsection, bloodied and warped. The bullet wound still drips blood.

Plink, plink, plink.

Bernard hates the scent of iron.

"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" she asks, her voice echoing, "I thought we were friends."

There’s blood dripping down the side of her mouth. Now he remembers, the blood on him isn’t Olu’s or Lila’s — although there is that too — it’s almost overwhelmingly Darla’s. He’s covered in it. Elbows deep in it. It streaks up his arms like a macabre tattoo. He wore a white shirt to school today. The stains will never come out. He is Carrie at the end of prom, mortified and humiliated.

He crawls backwards until his back hits the wall, the impact knocking him out of the worst of that night. He's back in the bathroom. The lights hum loudly overhead. Darla hasn’t left yet.

She tilts her head, “Why didn’t you help me, Bear? I thought we were friends.”

“We are,” he rasps out, “we are friends.”

“Are we?” her eyes have no pupils. His Darls had eyes that shone in the sunlight. His Darls is dead. “Then why am I still bleeding? Why am I still hurting? Why is there a bullet in my stomach, Bear?!”

She’s shouting by the end and he flinches. His hands can’t seem to stop tugging at his hair. The blood must’ve smeared all over it. Talk about taking strawberry blond literally.

“I swear I did everything I could Darls,” he sobs out quietly, voice cracking, “I followed all of Mrs. Castillo’s instructions as best I could. I put pressure and tied the dressing as tight as I could.”

“You thought that was enough?” she snarls, hands coming down to grip the wound. It twists grotesquely; he gags, “You think any of that matters when I’m dead and you’re still alive?”

“Please, please. You know I wouldn’t leave you to die, Darls. Please, please, please believe me.”

“Liar, liar!” she screams, blood dripping out of her mouth onto her pink LOVE shirt. It darkens as each drop hits it. Soon it’ll be completely drenched and she’ll be drowning in it. Where did his smiling friend go? “I’m dead, Bear! I’m dead, dead, dead and it’s all your fault! Why didn’t you save me?! Why didn’t you save me?!”

He keens, body curling in on itself. One hand goes down to press on his throat; he’s making too much noise. Nikhil’s just a freshman. He shouldn’t have to die just because Bernard couldn’t shut up for once in his life.

“Please,” he whispers raggedly, “I tried, I tried. I swear I tried, Darls.”

“It hurts, Bear,” she sobs. Darla’s too young to be sounding so wrecked, “It hurts so much. Please help me.”

All of sudden, it’s too much. The taste of iron sits heavy on his tongue and Darla won’t stop sobbing. His fingers fumble for his phone and he presses one. It rings once, twice and finally on the third ring does a voice answer.

“Bear?” the other side says groggily.

“Ty please, I can't do this anymore,“ he sobs.

Tyrone suddenly sounds a lot more alert, “Bear what’s going on?”

“Darla won’t stop crying and she keeps on screaming that it’s my fault she died.” he wails, “I know I should’ve done more but please, can you tell her I tried? That I stayed with her until the end? She won’t listen to me, Ty. She won’t listen to me.”

There’s a muffled yell of ‘Babe!” on the other end. “Yeah,” Ty breathes out, “I’ll tell her.”

“You put me on speaker, okay?” Ty instructs, “And you gotta tell me if she’s nodding or if she’s gone or if she said anything, alright? I can’t see her.”

“Okay,” he whispers, pulling the phone away from his ear to press the speaker button.

“You tell me when to start, Bear,” he says, voice filling the bathroom. Darla looks up from where she’s sobbing.

“You can start now Ty,” he rasps out, holding the phone out.

“Hey Darla,” Ty says, “Bear told me you said a lotta mean things about him. Stuff like, ‘he’s the reason you died’ and that ‘he never cared’. Darla, you gotta believe me when I say Bear never stopped caring. He held your hand the whole way through. Told you stories about all the things you two were gonna do once you got out of that nurse’s office. He tried, Darla, honest. I’ve never seen him as focused as when you stopped breathing and Mrs. Castillo had him give you CPR. He couldn’t stop sobbing the whole time.”

“But I’m still dead,” she says.

“But I’m still dead,” he repeats.

Ty inhales sharply, “Yeah,” he says thickly, “you are. And I’ll never stop being sorry about that. But you can’t take that out on Bear. He’s just trying to live his life.”

Darls’ face twists up like a childs, “But it hurts,” she cries.

“But—, but it hurts,” he repeats, voice hitching.

Ty curses, “Oh, fuck. I can’t do this. Babe, can you—?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Hey, Darla. It’s me, Jimmy from the football team. I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you. After high school, me and Tyrone ended up getting married. Somewhere between shitty weed brownies and bad college parties, we fell in love. Isn’t that nice?”

Darls nods; he tells them as such.

“We visited you after the ceremony. I hope you felt that wherever you are these days. But the point I’m trying to make is that from all I’ve told you just now, you can probably figure out that Ty and I didn’t go pro like we planned. The shooting fucked up Ty’s knee and and my arm. After the hospital stays, playing football for a whole bunch of people just didn’t sound appealing anymore. We’re high school teachers now. Ty teaches math and I teach gym. When it rains or gets cold, my arm and Ty’s knee hurts like hell. But Darla, it doesn't hurt forever. It gets better, I promise.”

“Darla,” Jimmy says, voice unusually serious, “you’re right, you are dead and it does hurt. I’m sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away for you; I’m not too much of an expert on the supernatural. Ty’s the smart one, after all. But I love you, Ty loves you, Bear loves you. I hope that when it hurts the most you can use that as a balm.”

“Auntie Bea loves you too!” Ty’s mom hollers from the background, “Aunt Betty, too!”

Ty laughs wetly and Jimmy snorts, “Does that sound okay?” they ask.

Darls smiles, her teeth stained red from all the blood that built up in her mouth. Bernard misses her with an ache he feels in his bones. Darls nods.

“She nodded,” he says quietly. He blinks once and she’s gone. Where did she go? Doesn’t she know that the gunmen are still at large? She needs to be somewhere safe. He can’t lose a friend today.

“Bear, Bear, you gotta breathe. Take a deep breath for me, c’mon,” Jimmy says.

“She’s gone, Jim. She’s gone again. Why does she keep leaving?” he says, crying. His body can’t stop trembling. How long has he been here? How much time has he missed?

“I miss the cult,” he whispers, “I never had things like this happen when I was with them.”

“Yeah,” Ty snaps, “‘Cause you were high off of like 50 different pain meds ‘cause you let them whip you.”

“Ty, not helping.”

“Move over, let me talk to him."

"Hey, sweetheart," Auntie Bea's voice crackles through his tiny speaker, "I know you're tired and I know you're hurting. I know you miss the cult but you gotta breathe for me, okay? You're gonna pass out otherwise."

"I can't, I can't," he gasps out.

"Sure you can, you just gotta tell me five things you can see. Can you list those five things for me?"

Bernard desperately tries to get his breathing under control, "The sink is dirty."

"Good, good. Anything else?"

"The tiles need to be re-grouted."

Aunt Betty barks out a laugh. Bernard's lips twitch upward.

"Keep going."

"My pants, my white shirt, my ID badge," he rattles off.

They talk him through the rest of the grounding techniques and by the time he feels like he's in control again, he's exhausted. His eyes hurt and his throat is dry.

"Can you tell us why you spiraled so hard, Bear? This hasn't happened in a long time," Jimmy asks.

"I spoke to Tim again," he says simply. He pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to the sink. Setting the phone down on the counter, he grips the sink with both hands and just breathes. The Bernard in the mirror looks like he just came out of a warzone, eyes haunted, hair messed up.

"Oh fuck," Ty says, "Where did you even meet him?"

"At my new job at Wayne Ent."

"Why would you apply there?" Jimmy asks, stressed.

"I didn't know! It's not like I've had a lotta time in the past few years to check the news!"

"Well, whatever, what’s done is done." Ty says, ever practical, "Are you going to quit?"

"No!” he says vehemently.

“No,” he repeats quieter, “Wayne has the best benefits and Mori needs that. I’ll just suck it up and try to avoid him.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Aunt Betty says.

“Ma!”

“Oh be quiet Jimmy. I’ve never heard of a more stupider thing. He’s your CEO, Bear, and he knows you work there. He’s obviously going to want ‘to catch up’ or whatever. There is no avoiding him. Can you handle that?”

What can he say? Aunt Betty is right. He can’t handle talking to Tim. Even seeing Tim felt like touching a live wire. He can’t deal with another episode. Mori doesn’t need him to be fucked up, Mori needs him to be the stable adult he promised the courts he was.

“You can’t, sweetheart,” she says softly, “you can’t handle it.”

There’s some shuffling on the other end of the phone.

“Bear,” Ty says gently, “I love you, man. You’re my brother. Jimmy loves you, Mama loves you, Aunt Betty loves you. But you gotta start thinking about therapy.”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into this. I’m—”

Ty cuts him off with an exasperated huff, “It’s not about that Bear. I’ll keep talking to your hallucinations for as long as you need me too. Even when we’re seventy, I’ll do it for you. I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I don’t want you to keep seeing Darla. I don’t want you to keep trying to scrub the blood off your hands.

“And I know you’ve been avoiding therapy ‘cause you don’t got the money and ‘cause talking about your problems is scary but it’s not just you anymore. You got Mori now. That custody claim is going through. You can’t just avoid things ‘cause they’re hard now. You work at Wayne now; that paycheck is more than enough to set a few dollars aside each month to save up for therapy. Hell, mental health probably comes with your medical benefits. Please, Bear. If you can’t get help for you, then do it for us, for Mori. Please stop making us watch you hurt.”

Bernard exhales shakily.

“I never wanna find you the way we did after the cult, Bear. I never wanna see you in the hospital bed like that again. Please don’t do that to us, please,” Ty whispers.

Unconsciously, his hand comes up to rub at the scar left behind from the sacrifice. It stretches along the length of his sternum, jagged and rough. On good days, he can pretend that it’s a scar from a heart surgery. He doesn’t have that many good days.

Bernard presses the heel of his palms into his eyes before using his hands to scrub at his face. He’s always so tired these days.

“Okay,” he says simply, “okay.”

“Okay?” Ty asks hopefully.

“Okay, you’re right. It’s not just me anymore. Mori deserves the best and I’m gonna give it to him. And I love Tim, I think I’ll always love Tim but he clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. So I gotta make my peace with it or I’ll go crazy.”

Ty whoops, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he chants.

“Bear, it’s still the middle of the workday,” Jimmy says, although he too, sounds happy. Auntie Bea and Betty are muttering about a feast, he thinks. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”

“Yeah, that’s if I’m not fired already,” he mutters.

“Hey!” Jimmy admonishes, “Optimism only, no pessimism.”

“Alright, alright. I gotta get back to work now. Thanks guys.”

“Of course, we’ll let you go now. Ma wants me to tell you that we’re having dinner at your place today.”

“Aunt Betty,” he whines, “I haven’t cleaned and you and Auntie Bea are just looking for a reason to spoil Mori.”

“Absolutely,” they say, unashamed, “he’s our only grandson. We have to spoil him.”

“Fine,” he sighs but he’s smiling. Fuck, he loves these people. God knows he wouldn’t have survived the past six years without them.

“Bye Bear,” they say before he hangs up, “Good luck on your first day!”

He cuts the phone and slides it back into his pocket. Turning on the tap, he splashes some cold water onto his face. Using his wet hands, he tries to rearrange his mussed up hair into something acceptable for an office job.

Time to face the music Darls, he tells her smiling face in the mirror. She gives him a thumbs up in return.

The walk back to his office feels like a death sentence. He’s fucked this up, he knows it. Freaking out over a small interaction with his CEO and then running away only to come back two hours later? It’s over, done for. Bernard takes comfort in the fact that at least the severance package will be nice.

Stepping into the office, immediately draws the eyes of his team members. Every step towards his team leader’s office feels nerve-wracking. Just before he enters, Esperanza, the team’s second in command, stops him.

“Whatever happened,” she says, “just explain it to him. Young-joon’s a reasonable man, he’s not gonna yell at you.”

Some of the tension leaves him and he nods. Knocking on the door, he enters. His team leader looks up and smiles.

“Ah, Bernard! Why don’t you take a seat for me?”

He crosses his wrists behind his back, “I’d rather stand, sir.”

His team leader looks confused, “‘Sir’? Just call me Young-joon like I told you.”

“Anyway, after you left, I took the liberty of going through your file to see if there was anything I missed. I hope that wasn’t overstepping my boundaries.”

“No s-, Young-joon. You’re fine.”

Young-joon sighs and pushes the file he was reading before Bernard came in forward. It’s his file.

“I’m going to say some statements,” he says, “and I want you to confirm whether it’s true or not. If any of these questions make you uncomfortable, just tell me okay? I’ll drop it immediately.”

Bernard nods.

“You went to Louis E. Grieves Memorial High School.”

“Yes.”

“Based on the dates you put in your file, you were there for the shooting.”

“...Yes. Junior year.”

“You know our CEO.”

“Yes,” he breathes out.

“How?”

He used to fall asleep on my shoulder during lunch and I would listen to him breathe. He’s got moles all over his face. Darls once connected them with a sharpie. His step-mom was so hot, I thought I’d spontaneously combust every time she smiled. HIs dad didn’t really like me and flirting with his wife didn’t help my case. The Drake condo had a crocheted flower blanket on the sofa that his mom had made during her pregnancy. He liked to skateboard but couldn’t roller-blade to save his life. I have all this love and nowhere to put it.

“It’s a little private,” he says instead.

“I’m only asking because we work quite closely with him. We see him often and if that makes you uncomfortable, then I can have you transferred to another team.”

His shoulders sag, “We went to Grieves together for one year. Our mutual friend died. It’s a little hard to look at him.”

“Jesus Christ.” Young-joon says, “Okay well the offer is still on the table, Bernard. Do you want to be transferred?”

“No, I like your team. I’d like to stay,” he says, firmly.

“Are you sure?” Youn-joon asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yes.”

“Okay then,” and it’s like a switch had flipped. Gone is his serious team leader and in its place is the man he met this morning.

“If you plan on staying,” he says smiling, “then my primary recommendation is that you use the medical benefits the company gives you to find a therapist. If you need help, the infirmary here will walk you through it.”

Oh thank god it comes included with his medical, Ty will be overjoyed to hear that. But first, he has to ask Young-joon why he’s doing all this. Bernard knows his experience with authority figures is a little skewed towards the shitty side of the spectrum but even so, people usually aren’t so kind in his experience.

“Why are you doing this? Why didn’t you fire me? Why are you helping me?”

Young-joon chuckles, “Do you want to be fired?”

“No! But still, why are you helping me?”

Young-joon sighs and stands up. Walking around his desk, he stops right in front of Bernard. Young-joon puts a hand on his shoulder.

“This city takes a lot out of its people, believe me I know. And you were so young, when Gotham took her piece of you. It wasn’t fair of you to go through that. Just like it wasn’t fair to me and my wife when we got kidnapped as children. These kinds of things don’t go away. I still get worked up over zip-ties. My wife still has nightmares. All you can do is learn to live with it.

“You seem like a good kid with a good head on your shoulders. I’d hate to see all that potential go to waste ‘cause you kept getting trapped in your mind. I had a lot of help to get to where and who I am today. Consider this, me paying it forward. One day, I hope you can pay it forward too.”

His eyes feel suspiciously wet. “Thank you,” he chokes out, “thank you.”

Young-joon laughs, “There’s no need for the waterworks, Bernard. Now, pack up your things and go home. You’re in no state to analyze data today but I expect you here at 9AM sharp tomorrow, alright?”

Bernard mock salutes, “Yes, sir.”

“Goodbye, Bernard.”

Right before he exits, he turns around and calls out his team leader’s name.

“Young-joon,” Young-joon looks up confused, “you can call me Bear, by the way.”

A wide grin stretches across his team leader’s face, “Okay then. Goodbye Bear, see you tomorrow.”

Walking out of the office, it feels like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. Esperanza takes one look at him and snorts.

“You just got Young-joon-ed, huh?”

His jaw drops, “He does that often enough you guys have a name for it?”

The other team members laugh, “Welcome to Data Analysis Team 1, kiddo. We look forward to working with you from now on.”

Smiling, he gathers his things and leaves after a few goodbyes. Once outside the building, the smile drops. It’s an hour-and-a-half bus ride from Wayne Tower to his house. The bus stop sits right in front of the tower too. Some new initiative by the mayor to promote the city moving towards green energy. Hey look, even rich people take the bus! What a fucking joke.

The tower warps the sunlight around it and he stares up at the top floor. Is Tim watching? Can Tim see him from up there? Does he care or was it just the shock of seeing someone he once knew this morning? Has Tim ever thought about him, about them? Or were they just moments in his life? Perpendicular lines, intersecting once and then never again.

I miss you, he thinks staring at the top floor, I miss you more than anything but I’ll walk into oncoming traffic before I ever reach for you again.

The bus pulls up next to him and he snags a seat in the back. Dropping his head onto the seat in front of him, he stares out the window. Darls smiles back at him in the window reflection, perpetually sixteen. He’s twenty-two now.

Fuckin’ hell Darls, he thinks wearily, we’re really in it now.

Darls places her hand against the glass, he leans his shoulder onto it. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel her warmth.

We’ll make it through, she says.

The bus rumbles forward and he lets the cracked streets of Gotham lull him to sleep. He’ll make it through.

A/N: chami! i hope you like it!!! i've never gifted a fic before, i don't really know how this works. and to everyone who read it, i hope you liked it too! please leave your thoughts in the reblogs or replies!!! i miss the days when td:r was coming out and we were all collectively freaking out. anyway when i said loosely based, i really did mean loosely. props to you guys if you can figure out the direct references to the drama. but this is a one-shot. i'm not gonna be writing anything else for this 'verse? au? (god i'm always so worried im using em dashes wrong)

if you have questions or you're confused by something i wrote, feel free to ask questions or send an ask or message. oh, and i know some people like know the exact wordcount. so, it's exactly 6,785 words long. nice number right?

also, please note that if you want to make art or a podfic or hell, even fanfiction of this, feel free to do so! i hope that's not too presumptuous or anything. idk i see fanfic writers make this disclaimer all the time, so i thought i'd do it to.

thank you for reading!

#god i'm exhausted #writing the latter end of a fic always feels like finishing a marathon #no more fics for like the next 6 months (<- me when i lie)#anyway big fan of the bear hallucinates darla club!#currently there's only one member (me) but you can change that #also favorite trope ever is when you see a regular dude and you're like 'what a nice normal dude' and then you talk to him for like #5 minutes and you're like '/oh./ this dude has something wrong with him'#also the tyrone/jimmy pairing? do you see my vision?#also big fan of the the shooting was worse than what you see in rr club!#it's just there was a city-wide gang war and all the gangs came to grieves to kill darla and you're telling me only she died???#i think way more people died. i think too many people died actually. i think the school had to do remote learning for all of tyrone's sr yr #cause the renovations were too much.#also just to clarify #the is hallucination!darla and there is the darls he sees all the time. no they are not the same to him. yes he is mentally ill.#also yes!! superheroes do exist in this world!!! i just didn't mention them.#also if we're being a little self-critical for a moment #(don't look at this part) i feel like i could've ended this at a way earlier point in the story but i had such a strong vision of what the #fic was supposed to be like that i just wrote everything #anyway lets start tagging #bernard dowd #tim drake #timbern #timber #dc #red robin tyrone #red robin jimmy

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the-silver-chronicles · 19 days ago

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Kinktober Day 22 & 31: "Breeding Kink" & "Aftercare" - For OTP: "Boa Lurking In The Bliss" (Silva Omar x Faith Seed)

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @imogenkol and @josephseedismyfather

Tagging @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @inafieldofdaisies @noodlecupcakes @direwombat @voidika @cassietrn @aceghosts @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @cloudofbutterflies92 @carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @g0dspeeed @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins and @florbelles + anyone else who want to join.

Prompt based on this kinktober post made by fellow mutual @starsandskies. While the main Kink of this post is "Breeding" and "Aftercare", you'll find it also includes ones such as "Praise", "Oral", "Biting" and a little bit of "Dirty Talk".

Hey everyone, here's my second and last contribution to Kinktober for this month. Here's a oneshot devoted to the main couple of the Far Cry section of The Silver Chronicles; Silva and Faith as you've probably guessed. From the mature tag and the title you can probably already tell that this oneshot (which will also be uploaded onto my AO3 as well) contains explicitly sexual content meant for 18+ users only. Minors Do Not Interact!

Here's a few warnings as to what this oneshot contains:

CW: Shameless smut, Minor angst, Cunnilingus, slight vaginal fingering, slight teasing, stroking a dick to erection (I don't think a handjob necessarily fits the context because Faith doesn't let Silva cum), P in V sex, unprotected sex, gentle sex, creampie, Silva's kind of unsubtle breeding kink and both women's obvious praise kinks. Includes a lack of contraceptives here (not the fault of either women, Kamski's flaw was that he thought Silva would be like him, miserable and single (neither words correlate nor share a connotation connection with each other here) and also doesn't take into consideration that majority of people don't think like him) and discussions of (getting) pregnancy. Plus the unspeakable horror of including the vaguest hint of a plot in a smut oneshot.

But also enthusiastic consent!

Okay now for the ONLY two Trigger Warnings: Minor reference to past religious and child abuse. These aren't the center focus of the oneshot and aren't explicit either, but these are something that are at the very least inferred (I hope that's the right word) to during Silva's POV thought process in the beginning, but not during the smut itself. I only make these warnings because it's better to be safe than sorry.

You may also notice Faith is a little different (possibly) personality-wise, and I imagine its because of being influenced by certain characters (like say... Sharky and the Drubmans (mostly Adelaide)) and this is set many months post-game and Collapse, and both she and Silva (plus Azriel) have taken shelter in Silva's prepper bunker, so I imagine at this point a certain level of character growth and change has occurred. I’ve also given a short personal explanation in the tags as well.

Author's Final Edit: I've been working on this nonstop for four weeks, at differing states in mind but refused to leave it unfinished, so apologies in advance if it's not that good or even a little rushed (as you can likely tell it's no longer October) than what I originally planned. Anyway gonna post this now and hope for the best.

I'll be sure to reblog this post with the link to the one that'll be posted on my AO3. Anyway, enjoy the fic under the cut:

Title: This Sweet Leisure

Series: The Silver Chronicles (Far Cry 5)

Character/s: Silva Omar (Deputy OC), Faith Seed, Azriel Omar (mentioned OC), Irene Neon (past referenced OC), Persephone Neon (past referenced OC), Elsa Omar (past referenced OC), Kamski Neon (past referenced OC), Tracey Lader (referenced) and Father Adam Omar (Barely referenced OC and thank the Gods, he's super dead).

Words: 7,734

Quiet moments had never been something Silva thought she could afford to enjoy.

She was familiar with various forms of quiet though. Many of which denied her comfort, including peace, or even leisure.

She had experienced a cold kind of quiet throughout her youth. It was tense and foreboding, a wordless warning hanging over their heads like the ill-omen of a guillotine. The only sounds allowed were the roaring winds of a wrathful blizzard outside and the slight clinking of plates and utensils shared between two quivering hermanas.

She had spent many nights as a child in a quiet that was always too quiet. That was the worst kind of quiet for Silva. Dread left her restless, sleep evaded her like the answers she constantly prayed for, haunted by anticipation as she listened for the recognizable signs of Father's approaching footsteps outside her bedroom door...

But the most familiar quiet she's known would be that of loss and mourning. The moments where silence would replace where there should be joyous laughter, or whispered promises, or the normalcy of conversation.

Where she expected a small form to run around the house once she exited her room, her little one's delighted giggles filling the room as her ginger bangs bounced from her enthused race... she found nothing and the heaviness would weigh down on her heart once more.

She would spend periods lamenting on each and every loss, whether it be family, friends, her amor or her beloved hija.

When trapped in this quiet, her mind would betray her... always following the same maze in the labyrinth of her thoughts, with each memory visited and revisited while she punished herself for the grave inescapable sin of not being strong enough, fast enough, doing enough.

Simply put, the quiet moments remind her of how no matter what, she'll never be enough to keep those she cared for. She found no escape through sleep either; her imagination was often the most cruel.

Punished by constant night terrors, which only grew more frequent from there.

Perhaps that is why she enjoyed the action, those fast-paced minutes that squandered on hours. The wars, the fighting, the very act of survival, the violence she despised, justifying her use of it as necessary and right.

The very same violence that took pieces of her until she was nearly hollow from the high. But at least she couldn't feel anything but the emptiness afterwards... distracted from the grief.

What a twist of fate that, at the end of the very collapse of society, all she could have would be quiet moments. For approximately seven years, she would have to live in the very bunker she had dismissed as a paranoid and needless precaution, even for the likes of Silva herself.

In spite of this, she had kept it well-maintained. At least to honor one of Elsa's lasting gifts to her.

And even though Elsa and Persephone were long gone from her life, Silva would be forever grateful of it since it had saved the last two of her most precious remaining loved ones; Faith and Azriel.

It was a rough few months at first, for herself especially, but they made it work. A routine had been set up, tasks given for each of them, and both Faith and Azriel seemed to have put aside their animosity, for the sake of Silva at least.

Silva, though prohibited from putting too much strain on her muscles, had recovered enough to do the laborious tasks that the other two were unable to do, as well as keep track of their inventory, rationing the power and water they were using, keeping track of the days by making calendars (at least enough so they have a fraction of an idea of when they should leave), keeping the only functional clock left out of Azriel's reach, general cooking and proceeding with Azriel's education (and ensuring her pequeño inventora utilizes the parts they don't need for her machinations).

Usually these tasks were completed with the assistance of both Faith and Azriel.

Faith utilized the knowledge she retained from the Eden's Gate to correctly double-check and correspond with the information Silva gave, as well as support a garden from within the bunker that gave them all fresh fruit and vegetables besides the preservatives, aided Silva in Azriel's education with subjects Silva had less expertise in and was the only person in the bunker with any specialization in medicine, besides Silva's apparently redundant strategy of "ignore the problem until it starts affecting you personally" or "only treat problem when close to the nearest convenient bandage, stitches or medic".

(Silva could admit Faith had a point about her reckless behavior).

Azriel's days were mostly spent assisting Silva, or Faith when the girl chose to stop detesting the other woman. She attended her "classes", whether it be academical or practical, so she'd be as prepared as she could be for whatever was outside the bunker doors.

Azriel's hobby in engineering proved to be handy, with Silva and Faith both stumped on the workings of such a subject despite their reliance on the bunker's generator and water filter.

They'd have their meals together, and would often spend time in the same living space once their tasks were done. When it came to nightly routines, Silva would bathe Azriel herself, and would share her own shower with Faith as to not waste water.

Those moments were strictly kept tame, given Azriel's close proximity from the bedroom and the necessity of the water. However, Silva didn't mind, as she and Faith got to be closer, with hands touching the places neither wanted others to see. Their scars were only for them to admire, neither holding shame nor judgement as they took care of each other.

After cleaning off, Silva would put Azriel to bed in one of the spare bedrooms she had claimed for herself as Faith shut off any non-essential power for the night, before both she and Silva retired to their shared designated master bedroom.

That was where the quiet became more prominent.

It wasn't so bad; sometimes one or both of them would be able to drift off. Other times, sleep would evade them, and they just enjoyed each others company, sharing stories and jokes, their voices barely above a whisper. Often they'd talk about the plans for the next day, perhaps wonder about the future... or even confess their own fears, quelling doubts. A peaceful quiet.

There were few nights when these fears took form as nightmares, interrupting their rests. Such nights were spent comforting the other in an understanding silence, few words exchanged while they found warmth in each other's arms. A comforting quiet.

But those night terrors were becoming far and few as the months passed, and Silva found herself cherishing the quiet as much as she did the time spent with her little family.

Though months passed, there was a slight change from the routine, one night where Silva rediscovered a quiet she hadn't experienced in a long while, and would revisit the following weeks.

Although sexual intimacy wasn't a first for either Silva or Faith, after the Collapse, they prioritized the ensured function of the bunker, recovering from their own physical and mental wounds and Azriel's well-being over their passion. It was the practical thing to do in that situation.

However, so much time had passed since the Collapse had occurred, and though the intimacy they did share was cherished and fulfilling, there was a familiar desire that burned patiently; the want to be connected, the need to be closer, to make the other sing with pleasure, and to share their love and affection through one of the few ways they could.

After Silva tucked Azriel in for the night, she had returned to the master bedroom. Shutting the door behind her, she turned to the sight of Faith awaiting her by the foot of their bed.

Silva shared a soft smile with her amor, making her way over to Faith to give a nightly embrace and kiss before bed.

Faith had stopped Silva with a hand on her chest, green eyes looking deeply into grey as the former herald tried to put her desires into words.

"I want you," she said softly, a noticeable shade of light pink across her face with eyes full of a need that stole Silva's breath away, "Tonight. I want you, and I want to make you feel good."

Silva felt a burst of exhilaration invade her body, her nerves lightened up with renewed enthusiasm. The feeling only increased when Faith delicately held one of Silva's hands and brought it to her soft lips.

The kisses she pressed down onto the faded scarred tissue sent tingling signals throughout Silva's body, a pleased sigh escaping her lips as her cheeks darkened into a blush. Faith gauged Silva's reaction, her gaze anticipating her answer and yet pleading all the same, lips brushing against her sensitive hand.

Silva responded with a loving smile, using her spare hand to cup Faith's face, fingers caressing the skin like light kisses as she brought her own face closer.

"Si," Silva had acceded, connecting their lips, feeling the thrum of Faith's enthused hum. When breaking off the kiss, the former deputy stated, "Under one condition."

Faith visibly wet her lips, tilting her head into Silva's palm as she asked, barely above a whisper, "And what would that be?"

Silva smirked, and Faith waited with bated breath on Silva's response (but if she hadn't been so focused on Silva's answer, she'd notice beloved's grey eyes shined with a flicker of silver), bringing her chapped lips to ghost along Faith's ear, and purred, "I'll make you feel bliss first."

Faith broke into a grin, and wrapped her arms around her lover's neck as both of their desires heightened, lips caught in a dance before Silva took the lead.

While their tongues communed and tasted one another, Silva's hands wandered, brushing over Faith's dress and squeezing at certain areas to bring out those small noises she never gets to hear in any other moment.

She settled both her wandering hands at Faith's hip and culo respectively, giving a squeeze on both that elicited a surprised yelp from her amor, though a giggle soon followed after.

Silva retracted from the kiss as her hands reached the hem of Faith's dress, "Let's get this dress off, mi querida."

Faith only nodded as her hands joined Silva's to slip the dress off from over her head rather smoothly, freeing her perky breasts for only Silva's eyes to see. She pressed her hands onto the skin, how good and warm it felt under her touch. Her thumb grazed over a scar just under Faith's rib cage.

Her attention was deterred however by her amor's impatient fingers unbuttoning her shirt.

Silva followed suit, unbuttoning the rest of her dress shirt and shrugging it off. She reached for the strap of her bra behind her, but Faith ceased her struggle when she pressed her hands onto Silva's clothed breasts.

"Arms up, darling," Faith directed, and Silva saw the glimpse of the herald whose reputation commanded fear and respect from her foes. It sent an exhilarating shiver down the former deputy's body, feeling a twitch in her lower body as she followed her amor's orders.

Faith pulled the undergarment over her lover's head, tossing it away. Silva didn't bother to chide about the messiness, figuring it to be a issue she'll deal with tomorrow. In the mean time, she was too preoccupied with giving Faith's greedy hands access to feeling her swell chest up. She let Faith grope at her breasts, hands wandering all over her exposed upper half. Even in the darkness, Faith accurately pinpointed every faded scar there was on this portion of the Omar woman's body.

From her healed cuts and slashes, to the closed scarring from past bullet wounds, to her shoulders; the left harbored old burns, while the right was less clearer, though the texture of the skin was notably a shade lighter, if only slightly.

Silva hummed from the touches she received, massaging Faith's breasts in return. Faith gaped in pleasure, and Silva jumped at the opportunity to reconnect their lips, tongue inserted back in, this time to dominate.

Faith moaned into Silva's mouth, and the reverberation spurred Silva on. Her hands moved to behind Faith, she pulled the other woman's body against hers, their chests colliding. Faith's hands gripped at Silva's back, pushing herself against her lover to chase after the pleasure of grinding their breasts together.

Silva slowly lead Faith backwards to the bed, letting the foot of the bed buckle Faith's legs into sitting down.

Without hesitation, Faith spread her bare legs to give Silva a peek at the lacy white lingerie underwear, embroidered with a familiar pattern, that she had adorned for this occasion. Silva got the impression that her amor had been planning this for some time.

Silva wouldn't disappoint.

Though that pattern did look familiar-

Flowers. Of course, Silva noted in mild amusement.

Faith closed her legs together and dragged her underwear down, shimmying the flower-patterned lingerie down to her ankles, kicking them off to the floor. She opened her legs once more, displaying her nude, bare self for Silva's eyes to feast upon. The sight made Silva's crotch felt uncomfortably restrictive, but she restrained herself from taking her pants off and making love to Faith there and then.

Silva wanted to draw this out; she wanted Faith to feel the greatest heights of this high until she was fully satiated, as well as for herself too.

Caressing her amor's face, Silva's eyes lingered down to Faith's wet folds awaiting her, the light brown bundle of curling hairs layered at the top, and asked, "May I?"

Faith gave an eager and affirming nod, and Silva descended down to her knees until she was face to face with the younger woman's lower lips. Putting her amor's legs over her shoulders, Silva circled two fingers around her labia to stimulate more wetness and gather it onto her fingers, while her other hand's thumb gently brushed against her clit.

She heard Faith's breath hitch above, which made Silva temporarily halt, her eyes meeting green to wordlessly check on her pareja. Faith met her lover's gaze and returned an assuring nod. Silva took a breath and continued to tease her amor's slick pussy and clit, feeling a tug of pride within herself when she heard a soft airy sigh come from above.

Satisfied with the slickness, she inserted one finger inside, earning her a gasp and small moan from Faith. She massaged her index inside the warm insides before inserting a second finger to join the first, curling and gently twisting both as she proceeded to press a bit firmly on Faith's clit with her thumb.

Spurred on by the sounds of Faith's heavier breathing and soft moans, Silva gave a trail of kisses along both of her thighs, perhaps lightly sucking at the flesh to leave a mark or two where no one but both of them would see.

She carefully twisted her two slick-covered closed fingers to face her and opened them up in a V-shape, spreading her amor's vagina.

Silva leaned closer, breathing in her scent. The pungent tangy musk tinted with a hint of earthy sweetness to it. A floral scent really; not like the acrid sweetness of the Bliss though. That had long since been washed away.

Without wasting another moment, she pressed her tongue flat against Faith's vulva, licking it in a glide upwards until she reaches her clit.

Faith tasted like honey, with a hint of sourness that reminded Silva of yogurt. It was something surprising to discover; how different the taste was. She'd expected a metallic taste and bitterness not unlike coffee when she first went down on Faith, as she had remembered Irene's being, and the few women she had brief relations with holding a similar taste, but had been pleasantly unprepared for the flavor.

She continued to lap up the slickness, proceeding to explore with wide licks that swished around the folds of her amor's vulva, enjoying the sweet little noises she drew out and the feeling of Faith's legs shaking over her shoulders.

Silva hadn't expected Faith to cross her legs to pull her mouth closer, but the Omar woman held no complaints. She focused on flexing her tongue deeper inside, licking every nook and cranny.

Silva felt Faith's hand furl into her dark hair to keep the former deputy where she was, grinding herself against her lover's tongue. Silva hummed her appreciation into her amor's pussy, the vibrating sensation provoking a whimper out of Faith.

Feeling her lover's tongue retracting, Faith almost expressed her dissatisfaction with the lack of contact until Silva's lips enveloped around her swelling clit, lightly sucking as her tongue gently circled around it.

Faith choked out a cry as she felt Silva's two fingers re-enter to massage at her sensitive flesh. Lips parted, her moans didn't escape quietly, though it didn't discourage Silva from her relentless efforts to bring about Faith's high.

Silva heard Faith murmur out words incoherently yet consistently (though that may be due to the thighs squeezed around her head canceling out most noises), though was unable to inquire about it as she felt Faith's legs tense around her.

She had enough time to glance her eyes up to see Faith slightly arch her back before she felt the inner walls of her vagina constrict and spasm.

Silva had half-a-mind to have her mouth open when fluid squirted at her face. She lapped up the sweet sticky fluids as Faith rode her high out.

Leaving soft rewarding kisses around her amor's sensitive flesh and thighs, Silva began crawling up to trail her kisses along Faith's waist and stomach. She peppered her breasts, collarbone and neck with special attention, sucking on the skin to leave little marks.

She kissed along her jaw, face and settled on her lips. Face to face, Silva admired the flushed yet blissful expression that resided on her amor.

Breathing returning to a regular intake, Faith opened her green eyes to gaze into Silva's adoring ones.

"You look so beautiful right now amor," Silva complimented, lightly tucking a loose hair behind Faith's ear.

The Seed woman licked her lips, the smile on her face joined by a light blush from the praise. And though Silva meant what she said, she still had the need to confirm.

"Was that good for you, mi querida?" Silva asked softly, searching for any hint of potential discomfort from the young woman below her. Faith blinked at Silva, maybe touched by the concern, maybe in bafflement at the question. Though she proceeded to bring her head up to rest against Silva's own.

"It was wonderful. You ate me out so well my sweetheart," Faith assured with a pleased sigh. She proceeded to bring her lips to the shell of Silva's ear and whisper, "Now why don't you take those pants off? I can't be the only one naked here."

Silva gave an affirmative nod and obliged to Faith's request. Scooting to the side of bed, she pulled down her loose night pants, kicking them off at her ankles. She went to remove her boxers next, but Faith slipped up behind with wandering and electrifying hands that danced across her front.

Faith peppered light kisses along her neck, and softer ones to her old burn scars, which Silva appreciated. One stray hand palmed over the bulge throbbing against her boxers, massaging the member, earning a shameless moan from Silva.

"You're so good to me, Silva. Always accommodating. Putting my needs before yours," Faith revered warmly, massaging the stretching bulge that began to tent up at her boxers, eliciting a low groan from Silva, while Faith stated, "You're so full of love. And I'm happy to be someone you share it with. Which is why I want to make tonight special for you. To give my own love back to you, in the most intimate act together."

Silva bit at her bottom lip as she felt herself get harder at Faith's words, the kind and adoring words flustering the woman. She felt Faith reach into her boxers to pull out her erect cock. Freed from its confines, Silva didn't try to suppress the moan that rose in her throat when her amor curled one hand at the base and began to pump.

Precum leaked from the tip, and Faith brushed a thumb over it, spreading the slickness around the head. She reached down to gently massage at her scrotum to further tease her lover, receiving a choked yelp that morphed pleased groan. Satisfied with her work, Faith tugged at the boxers, with Silva pulling it down the rest of the way.

"Now for what I promised," Faith purred sultry, intertwining her hand with Silva, leading the compliant woman to crawl further onto the queen bed with her.

With both now bare and their hearts beating with a thrill, Faith took initiative, placing a halting hand onto Silva's chest to halt her approach and lightly push her down backwards.

"Can you sit for me?" Faith requested, flashing sweet honest pearls at her, and Silva nodded affirmatively as she followed suit, sitting down with her legs splayed out, her cock proudly pointed up as Silva's eyes traced ever bit of Faith's body.

She swallowed on nothing, wishing she could count the stars to mark a number down of how much she had been so unbelievably lucky to have not only meeting Faith, but get to be with her. And to keep her and Azriel safe, a small relieved voice spoke up, though it didn't last, You never were able to do that with anyone else.

Silva almost frowned at the thought, and briefly closed her eyes. What happened wasn't my fault. I did all I could in those moments, she reminded herself, defending against the guilt, just as Faith coached her.

She opened her eyes when she felt Faith's hands grasp onto her shoulders, her legs at both sides of her hips. Her wet entrance hovering above Silva's leaking head, though Faith paused as she cupped Silva's face into her hands, the next words she spoke sending a spike of pleasure through her veins, "I want you inside me."

Heart fluttering at the proclamation, Silva wanted nothing more than to obey, to be inside her amada and feel how she clenched around her, to murmur little praises into her skin as she just enjoyed having her amor in her arms. However, through the haze of love and lust, she had a realization, "I don't have condoms. I don't think there are any down here."

"Nor birth control," Faith informed her, green eyes gazing down, and Silva wanted to kick herself for not noticing when she did stock checks, "I checked the infirmary; it just wasn't included amongst the stock."

Silva could take a guess why. The infirmary had been an additional room inserted by Kamski himself without her permission. Though she was grateful now for his foresight, she felt an annoyance towards Kamski's paranoia overstocking the infirmary with supplies for illness, injury, surgery and even birth delivery, but was flippant about her chances of finding a new partner that he was he convinced her contraceptives wouldn't be necessary. By Jannah, why did I listen to him?

She brought a hand over one of Faith's own which still had her face cupped, thumb brushing at the knuckles. While Silva certainly wasn't against the idea of unprotected sex, especially if Faith gave her consent, under normal circumstances there would be a world with safety nets to fall back on if they decided to risk it.

However, they were stuck in a bunker, while luckily stocked for more than three people with food, medicine and other resources, it was without the contraceptives to avoid the high-risk results of the act.

She would love nothing more than to make love to Faith, to be inside her, to join her on the brink of their own bliss and just release. However, she knew of Faith's reservations, not to the act itself, but the potential consequences of said act.

Instead, she suggested, "If you really want to do this, I can try the pulling out, which does comes with risk. But we don't have to, we can do something else..."

Silva quieted down when Faith pressed a finger to her lips, shushing wordlessly. Faith smacked her lips together as she gazed at Silva with sincere affection.

"I appreciate that you're thinking of me, but there's no need to fret, my lotus flower," Faith said with a fond smile, running a hand through Silva's long dark hair, her green eyes full of a devotion Silva's doesn't believe she's seen on her before, not even with Joseph, not this intense and self-assured.

"But I made my mind up about this weeks ago," Faith informed her lover, an adoring smile blessing her face, "I want to feel you. And more importantly, I want you to feel good. I know you personally dislike the condoms. Not only that, but I know you'd rather not pull out. And yet you do those... all for me. And I'm flattered. Which is why tonight, I wanted to do this for you. No contraceptives... even if they ideally should have been optional... and no pulling out either. And whatever comes after this... I'm okay with it."

Silva blinked, not expecting this from Faith. Although she wanted nothing more to accept her words at face value, she still had to make sure, "What about what you told me? I thought you didn't want to risk-"

"I know what I had said. It was something I took time to think about too," Faith acknowledged, but her tone changed to something more impassioned, "But... my time spent with you and Azriel has made me reconsider. I know you. I trust you. Of all the people I was lucky to fall for, I'm glad it's with you. Because you won't abandon me. You'll be with me, through it all."

Faith's hands glided down to behind Silva's head and neck, bringing her beloved's face closer to her chest, adjusting Silva so her ear was to the skin.

"You hear that?" Faith asked above, her heartbeat thumping in a swift measured pace, and Silva only nodded, still a little lost until her amor explained, "That's my excitement at the thought of us giving in for tonight. Of us quivering and trembling in ecstasy, on the toe-curling edge until I milk you dry. That's what I want, but most importantly, I know that's what you want to do."

Silva felt herself burning up; from her head being in Faith's bosom? The lewd description she'd never expect Faith to use (Had she rubbed off on her somehow? The Drubmans and Sharky? Or had she always had this side of her? came the discord of thoughts) until this occasion? Or the admission that she not only knew of Silva's concealed desires, but wishes for her to act on them too?? Perhaps it was a combination, but Silva wasn't entirely sure.

Silva lifted her face to look into Faith's unabashed green eyes, finding no hint of doubt in those beautiful orbs.

"I want this. You want this. And we won't be unprepared," Faith assured, nuzzling her head into the nook of Silva's neck, hands residing at her back, "We have an abundance of supplies with everything needed for a full-term pregnancy, and the infirmary is ridiculously prepared with instructions and instruments ready for when the day comes. I know this is selfish... but I want to make something beautiful with you. To carry the culmination of our love within me. No more holding yourself back... take a leap, love. Put yourself first for once."

Silva chewed at her bottom lip as she felt her cock grow stiffer at the idea of succumbing to her base desires, and to join Faith through a union of their raw bodies, rutting into the warmth of Faith's inner walls until she released herself into her amada's womb, until she was sure Faith was pregnant.

Faith got her attention with a small kiss on the lips, green eyes staring straight into Silva's souls as she said her next words with utmost seriousness.

"I know how I sound, saying all these things to you, but here and now, I want you to understand that ultimately... it's your call, my lotus flower. If you don't want to risk it, I'll respect your decision. You're not obligated to do this, not even for me. I can do something else to have you reach your own high if you'd prefer," Faith offered, one hand reaching down to Silva's hard cock, stroking at the shaft, earning a pleased trill, "If you want to proceed, you already know I'm all for it. If you don't, I'll be happy with whatever decision you make. It's up to you."

Silva was grateful that Faith was willing to wait for her consent. She took the opportunity to think about it. She found Faith's points to be valid; they had an infirmary with information and instruments at the ready, the bunker was well-supplied, Silva has the experience to take care of Faith and their not-yet conceived child, she knows Azriel would be thrilled for a sibling and she had Faith's approval. Hell, she wanted to do it.

I want to do it, Silva realized, an anxious energy buzzing within her, I want to have a child with her.

Silva met Faith's gaze once more. Her bright grey eyes scanned Faith's green, and her hands moved up to rest on her amor's waist as she said, "I want to do it."

Faith's eyes blew open, delight filling her face, "Really? You mean it?"

Silva gave Faith a smirk that sent a shiver of exhilaration up the other woman's spine, "Si. Now mi amor, how do you like the sound of me cumming into you tonight?"

Faith's only response was a resounding, "Yes."

With a gentle tap from Silva, Faith proceeded to lower herself until her entrance met Silva's tip, grinding their sex together, the sensation causing Silva to gasp agape while Faith husked out a wanton groan.

Silva couldn't deny her own heart's elation at the feeling of Faith's slickness making contact with her own precum, mixing and leaking down her shaft.

Faith sunk until she enveloped the head of Silva's cock. The former deputy groaned at the sensation of Faith adjusting to her, her walls stretching and clenching around her. Faith masked her own moan as a pleased hum, hand bringing Silva's head to her collarbone.

Silva planted more kisses and small bites to decorate her skin as she delicately maneuvered Faith past her cock's head and down the shaft. Her amada rocked tenderly, rasping out breathy, needy moans as Silva's cock stretched her pussy.

Both women's breath hitched when Faith reached the base of Silva's cock, the latter once again adjusting to the former. For Faith, it felt warmer, and she felt fuller with Silva inside compared to when she wore the condom. Silva could feel her amor's slickness and heat, how she pulsed within her, how wonderful it felt to have Faith's walls clenched around Silva. It felt right.

Both held each other close, until Silva's knees rose up until they were behind Faith's back. She grabbed hold of her amor's legs, gaze bor into her green orbs, a determined look not unlike what Faith saw during the Reaping gracing Silva's features.

"Are you ready?" Silva asked one last time, giving Faith the chance to back out. Faith gave a thrilled, "Yes", her green eyes begging for more. Silva proceeded to ask, "You remember what word to use if things get too much for you?"

Faith nodded once more, recounting, "Tulip."

Silva gave a confirming nod, "That's right. Buena chica. Now stretch out your legs and lay back for me, mi amor."

Faith did as instructed, stretching her legs out and, with Silva's guidance, she locked them around Silva's waist. Faith proceeded to lean back onto the support of Silva's thighs.

Silva hooked one hand under Faith's culo, giving it a teasing squeeze as she leaned forward to bring her other arm around Faith's back. The former herald hooked one hand at the nape of Silva's neck while her other gave herself some support from behind, grasping onto Silva's leg to anchor herself.

She gave Silva an affirming nod to go ahead, and Silva tested the waters with a small thrust with a rock of her hips. Faith gasped out a lewd noise, and with another thrust, she let out a pleased hum at the contact, and as Silva thrust again and again at a steady pace, Faith began to pant out long, wanton moans while Silva breathed out grunts and husked out her own impassioned moans.

Silva continued to thrust into Faith as her amada continued meeting her thrusts with enthusiastic rocks, the wet sound of skin slapping against each other all that filled the room.

"You feel so good," Silva murmured in a drawl, and as she rocked her hips up into Faith's slick velvet walls, she let out a surprising growl, "Mierda, you're coño's perfect for me, Faith. I need to fill you up... I need to get you pregnant."

Faith let out an enthused titter, her gut recoiling with warmth like the hammer of a gun, and she teased, "Yeah? Is that what you're going to do, my lotus flower? Rut into my bare, unprotected pussy raw until you cum? Spill all your seed into my empty womb until I'm all nice and full? That's fucking hot. You're so sexy whenever you speak your mind. Gets me really wet."

Faith gasped as she felt Silva's thrusts quicken in pace, causing her body to rock from the jerky movement. Though Faith was not displeased by the change as her content moans and her sweet gaping features indicated.

Images flashed within Silva's mind while her sharp eyes lingered on Faith; the flat of her stomach swollen with life for Silva to cherish both with the hold of one hand. Her bouncing breasts full of milk, perhaps more swell and more sensitive than before. Silva was also fascinated by what Faith's stretch marks would look like, during and after the pregnancy, the beautiful markings long-lasting evidence of their joyous union. She remembered only briefly being able to admire Irene's post-birth marks a few days after Persephone was born.

Silva could feel herself reaching her end, she knew in the way her breathing grew strained, and her cock became stiffer and hotter. It was a familiar sensation, but here it was special, as nothing was stopping her from filling Faith up fully now.

"Faith, look at me, querida," Silva drew Faith's green eyes to retain direct contact with her grey, "That's good, mi amor. I'm glad to see your beautiful face. This is a moment in our bond I want to last. I'm close. I'm so close now. I'm going to cum inside you. And I'm going to get you pregnant. I want to hear you tell me you want it. I need to hear it."

So close to coming undone, Faith refrained from breaking their shared contact as she husked out, "I want this. I want to feel you cum inside me. I want to be full with your seed. I want to be pregnant with your child. I want all of you, Silva."

Silva felt herself tighten and her resolve to hold on break. With little strength, she wrapped her arms around Faith as her amada tightened her legs around Silva's waist, both pulled their sweaty bodies close to each other. Both clung to one another as the only lifeline, as Silva gave one last rock of her hips and their sexes spasm.

Faith's walls constricted and clamped around her cock in a creamy coat and milk up all that she unloaded inside. Faith wailed out a moan while Silva shouted in ecstasy. She gave a sparse few weaker thrusts, and felt Faith's walls throb followed by her amor cumming once more.

Both refrained from separating, catching their breaths within each other's arms, fingers playing with hair, breasts pressed against each other from each heave of their chests, basking in each other's mind-buzzing afterglow.

The embrace lasted until Silva lightly pressed a kiss on Faith's soft lips before she removed herself out of Faith, her member deflating and spent for the night. She laid Faith down on the blanket of the bed, who was recovering from the intense pleasure she experienced twice. With limbs still interlocked, she laid beside Faith's prone form.

"Thank you," Silva told Faith, the latter humming in question, dreariness weighing on her half-lidded eyes, so Silva elaborated, "For this. For letting me hold you, and kiss you, and taste you, and... make love. You made me feel so good. Tonight was just perfect."

Faith giggled, green eyes gazing into Silva's grey with adoration, "Of course, honey. You did amazingly too. I noticed you had a lot more enthused determination. Not that you hadn't before but... there was a more primal feel. I liked it."

Silva felt her face heat up from Faith's appraisal, feeling her cock twitch. It hadn't gone unnoticed by her amor; Faith bit at her bottom lip as she commented, "And with our new goal, we'll be doing this again for the next few nights, I'd hope."

Silva felt an excitement burn at the thought of doing this again, though it reminded her of some things she should do to help.

"I'll need to go get a new blanket from the linen cupboard since..." Silva trailed off as she looked at the damp spot, "...yeah. But in the meantime, we should have your pelvis raised a little higher to increase the chances of conception."

Silva couldn't recall where she gained that information from; whether it had been something Kamski had somehow brought up in conversation for whatever reason or something she had learned while reading for any information from the old medical textbooks they could scavenge to help Irene during her pregnancy with her firstborn.

Regardless, Silva grasped a pillow and placed it underneath Faith's lower back, to raise her hips slightly above. Satisfied, Silva asked, "While I'm out, is there anything you need? Snacks? Water? A cloth to clean up?"

Faith shook her head, but made a small grunt as she tried to clear her coarse throat, "Water, please."

Silva gave a smile, caressing her amada's face before getting off the bed, "I'll be back in a jiff, mi amor."

Silva peeked out of the room, searching for any signs of the familiar orange-streak across the dark hair of her hija, hoping she was still asleep in her bed and not awoken by the noise, even if their rooms were fairly dense.

Spotting no signs of her fellow night owl, Silva exited the room, and made her way to the linen cupboard for the new blanket, and then dashed to the kitchen to get Faith's water.

With the glass filled and blanket over her shoulder, she made haste back to the master bedroom.

Closing the door behind her, she made her way back to Faith back on the bed. She placed the blanket down by the foot of the bed while taking the chance to admire her nude form. Though she noticed how Faith's hand was placed below her stomach, lost in thought.

Silva got onto the bed with a creak, breaking her amor's attention train of though and bringing her attention back to her.

Offering a smile, Silva didn't immediately inquire, instead tapping the glass of water, which earned her a soft gaze of appreciation.

She helped Faith lean up from the bed, and passed the glass of water to her. Once her amor's throat was satisfied, Silva had Faith temporarily hop off the bed so she could remove the ruined blanket (which she placed by the door for tomorrow) and laid down the newer, softer blanket.

Once the bed was ready, both Silva and Faith crawled back onto the bed, huddling close. Neither put back on their nightwear.

Silva brushed her fingers through Faith's light brown hair with enthusiasm and adoration in her heart. Faith snuggled into the crook of her neck, one finger tracing aimlessly at Silva's back.

"Are you alright, amor?" Silva asked softly, concern rearing its head once more, though she had a fraction of an idea of what Faith would be thinking about.

Faith glanced her green eyes up at her, briefly holding contact before she nodded.

"Just thinking?" Silva pried gently, observing how her face made those little quirks, subtle twitches, halting furrows and the way her lips open partially before closing again.

Faith responded with a small and affirming hum. The vibration's contact against her skin, although short, eased her hammering heart.

"Want to talk about it?" She finally asked, swallowing any remaining nerves as she discerned Faith's expression towards the question. Does she have any regrets? came the question she was worried for the answer of.

Faith hadn't replied immediately, stewing in the silence as she gathered her words, and said, "I'm just... coming to terms with this. Wondering... maybe a little worried. I've made quite the spontaneous decision, no different than what I've done before."

From the top of her head, Silva could only recall three that she could be referring to; leaving home with Tracey, joining Eden's Gate and helping Silva and Azriel in their goals.

"Are you having... regrets?" Silva asked hesitantly, but knew it was important.

She was a little surprised when Faith snorted incredulously at it.

"No... not that at all. It's a choice I'm not backing down from," she answered fully looking up to her, bringing one hand to cup the side of Silva's face with tender affection, slowly nuzzling their foreheads together, "I'm just a little nervous is all. This is a new and rather big step I would never have considered in my life before meeting you and Azriel. But it is something I want to experience, as long as you're with me."

Relief flooded Silva's mind, washing away any lingering presence of the ugly guilt that tried to form.

"Besides, I liked tonight as much as you did. And I loved how you were too," Faith said as she "walked" two fingers all the way up Silva's chest to her lips, seductively brushing both over her lover's bottom lip as she leaned forward with a whisper, "And I'd hope to see more of that side of you last a few rounds in the night to come."

Silva joined her lips with her amor's, an unbridled smile curving up once again. I've been doing that a lot more recently, she noted, in spite of the sorrow she still feels for the loss of the world above.

Though that's not something she'd focus on as of now. She had better priorities she needed to attend to.

Disconnecting their lips, Silva replied, "I'll let you hold me to those words. In the meantime... want to just snuggle until sleep takes us?"

"Yeah," Faith snickered, eyes drooping lower as she cuddled closer into Silva, "I won't refuse such an offer like that."

Silva wrapped her arms further around Faith, as she just cherished this moment of holding onto her amada diente de león.

Faith dozed off first, and though Silva was not far behind her, within the dark of their room, she whispered into Faith's hair, "We're going to be okay. I promise, mi amor."

With nothing else to say until tomorrow, she let out a content sigh as she dragged the soft blanket over their exposed bodies, and sunk into Faith's slumbering embrace. Finally finding a quiet to look forward to.

[A/n] Finally it's over. I can move on to the tag stuff I've missed.

[Skit #1: Faith: "How might Azriel take the news of a possible new sibling?" Silva: "I wouldn't worry about it. She'd probably be more thrilled at finally being taller than someone for once."]

[Skit #2: Kamski: "Alright I've installed a functioning infirmary into your doomsday bunker in the scenario we'd have to bunk together during a disaster." Silva: "...Not thrilled but ok." Kamski: "It's prepared for injuries, illnesses, surgeries and any pregnancies in the unlikely case we have others bunk with us." Silva: "That sounds good and all, but what about contraceptives?" Kamski: "Don't be ridiculous Silva... no one's stupid enough to fuck in a bunker during a disaster and neither of us are getting lucky enought to change our single status any time soon." Silva: "Hurtful but sounds legit." Years later... Silva: "Once I die, Kamski when I get my hands on you, you motherfu-"]

#series: the silver chronicles #fic: this sweet leisure #far cry 5 #far cry new dawn #kinktober 2024 #oc: silva omar #faith seed #otp: boa lurking in the bliss #oc: azriel omar #reiterating from my last smut post I'm not the biggest smut writer #not my best writing either as this was a four week project i've been working on and at varying points of capacity to mentally process shit #so a lot of this may be rubbish or even ooc (even for my tastes)#post-fc5 but pre-fcnd #post-collapse but within the bunker years #not much to say other than silva's got an ungodly level of self-control over her breeding kink if she was willing to have one kid with fait #(not excluding azriel here but she's adopted by silva while mercy was conceived between silva and faith as you potentially witnessed)#also yes I am aware of faith’s canon… opinion (is putting it lightly it was detestment) on babies #I even vaguely inferred to it and her probable views on her own thoughts on the idea of getting pregnant here #so I’ve attempted to go around that and say “love makes you do things you normally wouldn’t for your partner”#and “missing a fic’s worth lot of background context for this oneshot” because that’s the only solution I could think of #I really was just banging my head on my desk before I said “fuck it”#and straight up went “she loves and trusts silva that much at this point that she was willing to reflect on her prev views #and take a leap of faith towards something big new and kind of scary but with someone she knew wouldn’t let her down nor do it alone”#the major themes of this series is “love” and “change” so I guess that checks out

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