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Tony's Surprise

Another story written with the help of @shhhsecretsideblog

Lets hope you enjoy it :)

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Captain Tony Joplins, member of the Royal Marines - and first-time father-to-be was actually giddy with excitement. He stared at the calendar on his desk in the barracks - it had 3 dates ringed. First was the due date of the baby - over a week ago now. The next was the expected completion date of his tour of duty - 2 weeks after the due date of his baby. And today, another date that had been circled. Today was a special day. Today was the day he was going home.

The peacekeeping mission had been a success, his team was handling the handover of power to the local militia, and they were working on demobilisation now. He was granted special permission to return home to see his wife.

If it was through sheer dumb luck, willpower or the obstinate attitude of the mother and baby he didn’t know, but a week past her due date, she still hadn’t delivered.

She always said she would wait until he got back… but never in his wildest dreams did Tony think he would make it back in time for the birth.

He held the phone to his head talking casually to his wife.

“Uh huh. Really… you don’t say. So, how’s the bump? No sign of anything happening ? I honestly can’t believe it too baby. I mean you must be grumpy and aching.”

The call went on for 10 minutes more with the couple catching up on the days news. Sarah, Tony’s wife had no idea he was planning an early trip home, and he wanted to keep the surprise as long as he could.

“Ok baby I’ve got to go. Speak to you tomorrow, get some rest it must be getting late there. Put the phone on your belly so I can say goodnight to our little munchkin. Goodnight dumpling”. He signed off with a kiss down the phone and wished his wife goodnight.

The second he hung up the phone, he picked up his travel bag, turned out the light to the barracks office and signalled the crew driver to take him to the airport. He was on his way home.

***

Sarah hung up the phone and put it back on charge beside the bed. Getting to speak to Tony was always the highlight of the day; she missed him dearly. But she understood his career, why he’d enlisted with the Royal Marines, how much it meant to him to do what he does. It was one of the reasons she fell in love with him - his selflessness.

Being an independent person, it never bothered Sarah to have a husband frequently away on duty. She was happy running the house, going to work, getting to watch whatever she wanted of an evening. And whenever Tony was home, they would more than make up for the time apart by spending days holed up in bed together. Which is how she’d gotten to be the size of a house right now.

Her hand rubbed over the large swell of her pregnant belly that was sitting heavily atop her thighs. A week overdue and she felt… huge. Her ankles were swollen, her breasts were spilling out of all her maternity bras, and her stomach was stretched so far she often found herself cupping her hands underneath to physically hold it up.

But Sarah wouldn’t have it any other way. Tony was going to be home in a week and she was certain both her and the baby could wait that long. The midwife had mentioned an induction to her earlier that day during her routine checkup, given she was a week overdue with still no sign of baby, but Sarah was quick to shut that suggestion down. The baby would come when they were good and ready, and Sarah was sure they were holding out for dad’s return.

Taking a few deep breaths to prepare herself Sarah hauled her body up off the bed, where she’d been resting during her call with Tony, and started getting ready for bed. It was late and her body was exhausted. The one good thing about being this heavily pregnant while your husband was on tour was that she had the whole bed to herself. Well, plus the giant pregnancy pillow.

***

Tony approached the military airfield and hopped on the waiting aeroplane. He turned off his phone with a sigh of contentment. He had to get to the more publicly accessible airport first which involved a quick hop over to the civilian airfields, quick change into his civvies and then a 4 hour flight back home. In around 5 hours he could surprise his wife who would hopefully be sleeping soundly in bed at the time - if she wasn’t up for the dozenth time in the night to pee he recited in his head, the same mantra given to him by Sarah for weeks now.

The military aircraft hop was uneventful, check in at the civilian airport went as expected and as the pilot announced the plane was ready to take off, all was good in the world.

Back at home though, Sarah had struggled to sleep. She couldn’t get comfortable. The Braxton hicks contractions were worse than ever, though she was timing them, expecting things to get progressively worse, they were very erratic.

Rubbing her distended stomach, she asked her little passenger to calm down, to let mummy sleep, but for whatever reason, solely known to her subconscious and her baby, it would never settle.

***

“Did you want anything to drink sir?” The air steward asked Tony.

“Yes please.” Replied Tony as he put down his book and looked over the options available on the trolly.

“What would you like?”

He was technically on leave now, he told himself looking at all the alcoholic options atop the trolley. It had been a long day, getting everything finished before his departure and the multiple flights, he could really use a drink. But his thoughts drifted to Sarah, he wanted to get home as soon as possible and didn’t want to turn up with beer on his breath.

“I’ll just have a splash of water thanks.”

***

The bed was wet. Sarah woke up groaning into her pillow and feeling damp sheets beneath her thighs.

“Oh… oh no baby. You were doing so well, waiting for your dad to come home.” Sarah grumbled as the twisting cramp pulling her further away from sleep.

Curling around her belly, she breathed through the wave that seemed more intense than before she’d gone to sleep. The baby wiggled and kicked inside, clearly they were also disgruntled and disturbed by the change of events.

When the contraction passed Sarah pushed herself up, swinging her legs off the bed and rubbing her heavy stomach. “Hooo- so you’ve decided to come out now then have you?” She asked her unborn babe, talking to the baby was something she frequently did. “Well if I’m not going to be able to sleep, might as well get up and change the bedding. Put the washing on, can’t have these sheets staying like this.”

Sarah bundled up the sheets into a pile on the bed as she stopped, one hand on the bare mattress, one on her belly, a rogue contraction catching her off guard. She groaned through the pain, surprised at the urges her body was going through.

“I wonder if Joss is awake…” she mumbled to herself, something to take her mind off her predicament.

Joss, or Jocelyn to use her full name was Sarah’s midwife, and whilst she knew she was on risk of call at any time considering the late stage of her pregnancy, getting a call at 1am is never fun… especially if she could be potentially in labour for several hours.

As the contraction ebbed away, she grabbed the sheets and walked with the bundle rested on top of her bump as she waddled downstairs into the kitchen, dumped the sheets on the floor, pulled open the washer door and after putting in the load, set the machine away.

She thought of her options. She could contact Joss, but preferred not to this early, and considered trying to contact Tony, but she had no way to contact his military sat phone, only his personal mobile which he may not have access to on patrol - then considered that perhaps she didn’t want to worry him with no way for him to get back home.

The thoughts were racing through her head when the next contraction snuck up on her. She felt suddenly doubtful and unprepared, though she knew she had researched this countless times and knew exactly what to expect. It just suddenly got real though.

With hands braced against the kitchen countertop, Sarah took deep, slow breaths. In and out, in and out. Allowing the long exhales to both aid with the contraction but also to steady and calm her mind.

No amount of research could truly prepare her for the experience of birth. The contractions were sharper and more intense than she’d expected early labour to be, and knowing this was just the start made her teeter toward the panicked uncertainty. Regulating her breathing helped, as did having the task of putting on the wash.

Deciding to wait to call Joss, until things were a bit more established and when she’d actually need the support, Sarah slowly pottered around the kitchen finding tasks to do to distract her. She wiped down all the work surfaces, reorganised all the kitchen cupboards, threw away out of date cans and cleaned behind infrequently used glassware. Unloading the dishwasher proved difficult, unable to bend down with the size of her pregnant belly and forcing her to squat down to get the items in the bottom drawer. It was of course during this task when another contraction struck. With her heavy bump hanging low between her thighs, Sarah grasped up and held fast to the edge of the counter as the contraction tore through her body, squeezing and twisting the muscles, working the baby down towards its exit. A long moan escaped her as it peaked and when it was over she hauled herself back to standing, breathing heavily.

“That was tough” she spoke out loud, vocalising her thoughts to no one in particular. She boiled her kettle and pulled a puppy pad from her birth supplies walking into her living room and placing it on her sofa to give her somewhere to sit.

Feeling another contraction come along as she walked back into her kitchen she paused - hands resting on her counter top again - as the waves took her breath away. She found herself closing her eyes and humming to herself as the wave crested and finally subsided, all the while her thoughts were drifting to suggestions such as ‘this hurts a lot more than I expected’ and ‘it’s happening fast.’

She plodded back into the living room and placed her hot tea on the desk next to the sofa, and in turn, slowly lowered herself down onto the pad she had placed earlier - the squelch and feeling of wetness on her thighs and ass an immediate reminder that she hadn’t changed out of her wet clothes from her water having broken.

She groaned to herself, as much out of frustration as anything else with having to get out of the seat again so early, but the dampness didn’t feel comfortable at all. A waddling trudge to the bedroom later and she had managed to change her pyjamas to a fresh pair and felt much more comfortable.

As she pulled up the damp pad to replace it with another, her body decided it was time for the next contraction and she grabbed hard into the back of her sofa, fingers digging into the leather like upholstery.

The pain left her panting and groaning, once more this contraction had been noticeably worse than the previous one, and she shook her head with it passing, deciding it was time to seek Joss’s support.

The midwife answered after only a few rings. Sarah habitually apologised for the calling at such a late hour, but to Joss it was all part of the job. After informing Joss of her broken waters and the frequency of the contractions, Sarah was relieved to hear the midwife was on her way over.

Over the next while, the intensity of the contractions really started to chip away at Sarah’s resolve. Her confidence in her strength was fading with every wave and Sarah felt herself wanting, and needing, support. Having Joss on her way helped, but it also made it very, very real. And she missed Tony. Her loving husband and father to this child should be here… she really didn’t want to do this without him. She looked up at the ceiling to try and stop the tears from gathering enough to roll down her cheeks.

Without even realising, Sarah unlocked her phone and called Tony’s mobile. It went to voicemail but she wasn’t surprised. Hearing his automated voicemail message brought a lump to her throat but she quickly swallowed it away before the sound of the beep.

“Hey honey, it’s me. Um….You’re probably out on patrol with no access to your phone. I know you’re busy saving the world, but um…. I guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Hoooo…” her breath hitched as the start of a contraction rolled towards her. “I…errrr also wanted to let you know that -hooooo- it’s baby time. Mmnnn, hang on-” she moved the phone away from her head slightly, humming her way through the latest peak. “Sorry, contraction. I’m okay, don’t worry. I’ve called Joss, she’s on her way over now. I just miss you, babe. I’ll try and keep you updated, though I don’t know when you’ll get these messages. Maybe next time we speak, we’ll be parents.” The smile on Sarah’s face could be heard through the tone of her voice. “I love you.”

Sarah hung up the phone and a minute later she heard the sound of Joss knocking at her front door.

Sarah grunted as she made her waddling way to the front door, one hand jammed heavily into her back, the pressure helped alleviate… something… with the whole process but she was just pleased with the temporary respite.

As the latch clicked on the door and the 2 ladies suddenly looked face to face with each other, it was Joss who spoke first.

“Baby kicking your ass real good?” She asked. Sarah could only nod. “Good, well I’ve got something that’s going to take the edge off.”

It was then Sarah noticed that Joss was carrying a bag slung over her shoulder and saw the gas bottle stored inside.

“Oh my hero… come on in” offered Sarah as she stepped back from the door and allowed Joss to come in behind her, closing the door as she entered.

“So little bubba finally making an appearance?” Asked Joss.

“Sure looks…” as Sarah suddenly grunted “and feels like it” she offered by way of reply.

Joss swung the bag onto the floor with a clunk and dug into it to pull out a regulator and mouthpiece. “Don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours dearie… Joss is going to make it all better.”

Sarah took a liking to Joss in the early days of her pregnancy. She liked her amiable nature and her no fuss attitude. As Joss screwed on the regulator to the bottle she asked a few background info checks and finally handed the mouthpiece to Sarah.

“Just in time” she groaned as she put the tube into her mouth and sucked hard. She clenched the tube between her teeth and spoke around it “another one starting.”

Joss nodded and let her take her time before continuing with the admin.

***

At 30,000 feet, Tony lay back in his chair, headphones on and watched a movie. He couldn’t concentrate on it though, all his focus was on getting back to his wife. He looked at his watch. About 3 hours of flight time to go before he lands. He felt like a kid at Christmas.

The stewardess walked past and offered him a snack. He took the sandwich and smiled. By way of conversation the stewardess asked what he was travelling for when he revealed he was heading home for the birth of his first child. The stewardess congratulated him and popped back to the hold, bringing out a plush teddy bear with her. “Hope this brings back good memories of this flight when you get to see the baby.”

***

“I wasn’t expecting things to h-hurt so much so soon…” Sarah panted out and quickly returned the tube of gas to her mouth.

Kneeling on the floor in her living room, elbows resting on the sofa and puppy pad under her knees, Sarah worked through the latest contraction while Joss sat behind her kneading her lower back.

“Childbirth is no joke sweetie, they don’t call it ‘labour’ for nothing.” Joss chuckled to herself mainly, Sarah too busy inhaling the gas to pay much attention. “We’ll get you through this one and then I’ll check to see how far you’ve progressed. You’re doing brilliant dearie.”

Sarah grumbled and groaned through the latest wave, rocking her hips round in circles. When it was over she pulled the mouthpiece away and sat back on her heels, making sure the gas stayed within arms reach at all times.

“That was a rough one eh?” Joss asked, checking her watch and noting the time in her notebook.

“Hooo- yeah. They’re really ramping up now. It’s getting harder to talk through them.”

“Well that’s a good sign, means you’re progressing nicely. Now, shall we see how far you’ve progressed?” Joss asked, grabbing her gloves.

Sarah nodded and got back up to her knees, resting over the sofa cushions. Joss’s expert hands were soon uncomfortably inside her and she grunted.

“Sorry lovely, I’ll be quick.” Joss quipped. “Looking good. Just over 6cm dilated. You’ll be hitting transition soon, that’s where the fun really starts.”

“Can’t wait.” Sarah joked back.

“Are you happy labouring here for the time being? Some mums like to have a bath or shower at this time?” Joss asked.

“Shower would be nice. Might help alleviate some of this back pain.” Sarah said with a groan, stretching awkwardly side to side trying to ease the tense muscles raging across her lower spine.

“Lead the way” offered Joss, giving Sarah a hand to her feet.

“You coming with me?” Asked Sarah, huffing out her breath as she managed to get to her feet.

“Where else do you think I should be… my patient will be in the shower, I’ll be there in case my patient needs me.” Came the matter of fact reply.

“But… but I’ll be naked!” Came Sarah’s exasperated reply.

“In case you aren’t aware, I’ve just seen between your legs only a few minutes ago… and I’ll dare say as things get hot and heavy, you’ll be more than willing to strip for me again, Mrwar” she made a cat like noise whilst wiggling her eyebrows, which in turn sent Sarah into fits of giggles.

“You know what I never thought of it like that… I mean I know I’d need my knickers off but I thought I’d push in my dressing gown.” Answered Sarah.

“If that’s what you want to do, I’ll not stop you” Joss said “but if you want some advice… you’ll get damned hot putting in all the effort. Wear something light, an old tee shirt you don’t mind getting messy… or many mothers prefer nothing at all.”

Sarah had walked over to the base of her stairs during the conversation, has stopped with her foot on the first step, her hand on the banister as the conversation played out. By the end, the contraction had started again.

Joss took her position behind Sarah as she groaned through the pain, Joss’s hand snaking under her pyjamas and finding bare skin to press and knead.

“Do you want the gas and air?” Joss asked.

“No… no… let me see how I manage this, the massage is helping. When I get in the shower, can you put the water jets on my back if I need it?” Asked Sarah.

“Of course babe! Though maybe let’s put some towels down in case of splash back!” Joss sniggered. That in turn set Sarah off and she actually laughed through a contraction, though admittedly at its peak, the laugh warped into a moan.

Finally, after a few moments of respite, the two continued their trek up to the bathroom for Sarah to jump into the shower. She leaned in, set the water to warm, and felt so at ease with Joss she dropped her clothes into a pile at her feet, hands laying on her belly as she gave the shower a few moment to warm ready to step into it. Joss in turn bundled the clothes up and placed them on top of the closed toilet lid.

Stepping into the warm shower was bliss. Sarah hadn’t realised just how tight and tense her back had gotten as she’d worked through each of the contractions. But now, standing under the waterfall, the pressure hitting her spine, she exhaled a moan of relief.

“Told you a shower was a good idea.” Joss sniggered, perching on the edge of the toilet seat and looking around at Sarah and Tony’s bathroom. She always enjoyed this part of her job, getting to see inside her patients homes gave her a great sense of who they were as people.

In this bathroom you could see mainly Sarah’s toiletries littered about the place, very little evidence of Tony, which was expected given he was currently away on tour. But there was still two hand towels on the railing by the sink, two spaces for toothbrushes, and an empty spot beside the sink which was obviously the home of Tony’s wash bag whenever he was back.

Sarah started to grumble when she felt the next contraction began twisting.

“Are you okay in there?” Joss called out over the sounds of the shower.

“Mmmmmm yeah…. Hooo- I’m fine. It’s much better in here with the warmth of the water. But… oooooh could you put the jets on my back now? It’s really starting to pinch…” Sarah planted her palms against the opposite side of the shower to the water, swaying her hips side to side through the wave.

Joss jumped up and changed the setting on the shower so the water came out the jets in the wall instead of the shower head above.

“Better?” Asked Joss

Sarah nodded, silently working through the wave and just letting the powerful jets push the hot water into her aching back.

They stayed in comfortable silence, Sarah shifting and swaying under the glorious streams of warm water, letting the temperature ease the contracting muscles throughout her body.

After a few more contractions Joss offered the suggestion of moving, but Sarah was having none of it. “Mmmm no… happy here…” she breathed, her body swaying beneath the jets her fingers lightly touching the tiles for that bit of stability.

“That’s fine with me, you can stay wherever you’re happiest.”

Then out of no where Sarah’s moaning turned more frantic. “Oooooo no… Joss! I can’t…. Arghhhhh…” Sarah’s hands reached forward, gripping the air, trying to find something to hold and squeeze but there was nothing but tiles. A shooting electricity of pressure and pain shot up the entire length of her back. Knees trembling, hips dipping, Sarah had disappeared outside her body losing all control.

Joss jumped up the second her groaning changed. The sudden change in demeanour signalled the obvious move into transition. Sarah was struggling, with nothing to hold on to her legs were seconds away from buckling. Joss did the only thing she could - she jumped fully clothed into the shower, grabbing Sarah tightly under each armpit and stopped her knees from crashing into the tiled floor.

“It’s okay Sarah, just breathe. I’ve got you.” Joss reassured, the water now splashing her own back as she held Sarah up under the arms.

“I can’t do this!” Sarah cried

“You’re doing brilliant dearie, amazing. Let’s get you down on your knees, get you grounded through this bit.” Joss lowered Sarah gently and the mother-to-be shifted, knees on the floor and her arms out in front.

When Joss was confident Sarah had gotten herself in the position she wanted, she sat down in front of the labouring mother, offering her shoulders to lean on or hands to squeeze.

“ I don’t want to do this anymore. I need a hospital… drugs…” Sarah groaned, grasping Joss’s shoulders and pulling the fabric of her tee shirt into her tight fist.

“You are doing fine my lovely. Just perfect. You are exactly where you need to be, your body is doing exactly what it needs to do.” Joss could feel the water soaking her back and bottom half as she sat on the shower floor. They were no where near the controls to turn the shower off, so until Sarah got through transition, they were stuck there.

***

“The captain has put on the fasten your seatbelts sign, so please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts, we are approaching some turbulence”. It was a message heard all too often in a flight environment, and for Tony he thought nothing of it, clipping his belt shut as the cabin crew went seat to seat to check on things. What he didn’t realise was at the same time his wife was working through turbulence of her own. As the plane rattled and shook through the air, Tony glanced at his watch. An hour and a half. They’ll be beginning the descent in a little bit. Nearly home.

***

Sarah howled, unable to focus on anything else but the arcing pains going through her. There was no more gradual ramp up, groaning, swaying… this was almost torture. She was aware of Joss grabbing her tight but aside from that she was entirely self absorbed. She lost track of time, it may have been moments, it may have been hours. Either way the pain didn’t relent. Each contraction was practically on top of each other…

“I can’t do it make it stop” Sarah gasped out, “it hurts too much I want it to stop.”

“Just relax and breathe through it. You’re in transition.” Joss knew that Sarah may only be part taking her advice in, but she felt her grip slightly relax as her breathing slowed and started back to normality rather than tensing up and fighting it.

“Good, good, that’s it, relax… big deep healing breaths.”

Of course it was easier said than done when the relentless press of her body was in control.

Slowly, too slowly in Sarah’s view, the intensity of transition began to fade. She was loathed to move, scared of provoking another contraction, so remained steady and still, taking long and slow deep breaths.

“You’re doing wonderfully my lovely.” Joss encouraged, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

When she was sure she was through the other side, Sarah’s hands fell limp at her sides and she slumped back on her heels. “Woah… that’s was pretty rough…”

Joss shuffled over to the other wall and finally turned off the shower, leaving the two of them dripping wet on the shower floor. “Yeah transition is pretty intense. But you handled it like a boss.” Joss said as she pulled her hair over her shoulder and squeezed out the water.

“Oh Joss, I’m so sorry, you’re absolutely soaking!” Sarah said feeling guilty, realising now that her full clothed midwife had jumped into the shower with her.

“Oh don’t you worry about me love, I’ve been covered in worse things than water.” Joss joked.

“Did you bring a change of clothes with you?” Sarah asked as she heaved herself back to standing.

“Sadly I didn’t. But I’ll be fine.” Joss pulled a towel from the rail and passed it to Sarah to cover up and dry off.

“You can’t stay in your wet clothes, you’ll get sick. Look, take my dressing gown. You were right, I’m way too hot to be wearing it, so you take it.” Sarah suggested. “I’ll just put on a nighty or stay in the towel for the time being.”

“I can’t wear your clothes Sarah-”

“Why not? It’s just a dressing gown. Get out those wet clothes and then come to the bedroom.” Sarah insisted, heading for the bathroom door.

“If you’re sure…?”

“Yes, now get changed before I have another contraction and change my mind.” Sarah joked.

Joss shrugged. Sarah was right of course, but she admitted this wasn’t quite how she expected things to go.

Following behind Sarah to the bedroom she undid the fastenings to her blouse top, leaving it gaping open as Sarah dug into her wardrobe and pulled out the fluffy robe.

“You sure you don’t mind?” Asked Joss.

“No…. Go right… ahead” the next contraction had started and Sarah was spread eagle in front of her open closet, towel forgotten and dropped to the floor, her feet braced and her hands gripping the doorframe.

Making “hoo hoo” noises as she breathed through the contraction Joss stepped towards her to help only to be waved away. Sarah had started to dance a slow hip wiggle using the door for support moving up and down side to side.

Joss took the opportunity to strip down to her underwear, unbuttoning her trousers and kicking them off whilst keeping one eye on Sarah who, in turn was focused on her body, quietly moaning through a contraction.

Whilst her underwear was also damp as a result of the soaking, she felt that would be way too inappropriate considering the situation.

After pulling the robe over her shoulders, she tied it in the middle as Sarah was coming out the other end of her contraction.

“Phew, that was feeling like I needed to push” came the announcement from the mother to be.

“Yeah you’re reaching the big stretch… I’d have said home stretch, but it’s a bigger deal than that.” Both women at least managed to smile at that quip.

“Where do you want to push?” Asked Joss.

“I want to be on the bed but I never got the covers back on after my waters breaking soaked them earlier.”

“Don’t worry about that let me sort it. Where do you keep the bedclothes.”

“Cupboard in the next room… there’s a tarp there as well to keep the bed dry…”

“Ok let me go look… you wait there, and yell if you feel any more urgent need to push! Can I dry these?”

Sarah nodded as she braced herself again. The next contraction building. “Machines downstairs” as she groaned through. “Can you put the bedclothes in from the washer?”

Joss promised to be right back as she dashed around. First downstairs to load the dryer with the clothes and bedding, then back upstairs, her movements accompanied by loud moans from Sarah.

She popped her head in the bedroom on the way back to find Sarah had moved to a kneeling position as if she was praying by the side of her bed, elbows on the mattress and her head in her hands.

She grabbed the waterproof cover and bedsheet as she walked back in, placing a hand on Sarah's shoulder as a sign she was back.

Sarah looked back at Joss as her hand moved down to cradle her belly, rubbing side to side.

“I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this” she groaned.

“Don’t worry, baby’s on its way. Let me get this sheet on and you can hopefully get more comfortable.” Joss replied as she rubbed Sarahs shoulder in a comforting manner.

Joss didn’t like fighting with bedsheets, it was probably one of her least favourite things to do with housework, but ironically when she did house calls, it was something she ended up doing practically every time to swap out stained sheets with fresh ones after the mother got cleaned up.

She went around the side of the bed opposite to where Sarah was labouring as she looked at her gripping the mattress hard, moving one knee up so one sole was flat on the floor, the other kneeling on the floor, subconsciously opening her pelvis wider. Joss knew she didn’t have much time.

Stuffing the tarp on the bed first, she hastily squashed the sides under the mattress and let the waterproof sheet flop over Sarahs hands as she breathed through the contraction she was currently dealing with. It took a long time, so much so that Sarah’s contraction had finished, and she was shuffling off to the side of the room to give Joss some room to work when the next one started. Sarah was positioned still on her knees with her head to the ground resting on her hands, ass in the air as if she was praying to some sort of deity. Her groans had become louder, higher pitched and more pronounced as each had happened in the bedroom.

Joss threw on the top sheet after securing the waterproof one, and once more the time taken to fix it into place resulted in Sarah reaching the end of her contraction and asking Joss to check her. She could feel something moving, coming down… descending.

***

“We’re beginning our descent. Please fasten your seatbelts, return your seats to their upright position, open your window blinds, and put your tray table away. The cabin crew will make a final inspection through the cabin, but we should be on land in 20 minutes. There will be an approximate 10 minute taxi to the terminal. If this is your ultimate destination, welcome home, and if you are transferring through this airport, please check the boards upon your arrival for your onward flight. I would like to thank you all for flying with us today.”

The tannoy speaker caused the cabin to rumble into motion. People were shuffling around putting things in bags in the overhead bins, resetting their seats, and all other activities associated with coming in to land. All Tony could think of was “nearly home.”

***

Sarah had managed to get up onto the bed aided by Joss who in turn had two fingers buried deep between her legs and was checking her progress. She nodded and confirmed that Sarah was 9cm dilated, so would likely feel incredible urges to push, but she should still try and breathe through them rather than actively push, let her body stretch to let the final bit of lip move out of the way.

Sarah could only nod as Joss withdrew her fingers and pulled off the glove she wore.

“Help me to my hands and knees?” Sarah managed as Joss helped her first lift up off the bed, turn 180 degrees and climb back up. The contraction that soon followed had Sarah grab hold tight to her pillow, burying her head in the material as she yelled out, loud and screaming. The noise was very much muffled though.

“Good girl, good job, not much more time left. Soon be pushing!” came the voice of Joss from behind her, rubbing her back.

“Go fetch my phone please.” Sarah gasped as the contraction faded. “I want to see if Tony has replied to my earlier message.” She realised it had been several hours now. Perhaps whatever he was doing had finished, and perhaps he had rung her a dozen times trying to find out any updates.

Joss headed back downstairs to grab the phone from the armrest of the sofa and brought it back up. She saw there were no missed call notifications on the screen when she picked it up, but didn’t want to announce that to Sarah, would let her discover that for herself.

As Sarah got the screen and found the same, she opened the phone, set it on speaker mode and dialled Tony’s number again, once more a voicemail prompt greeted her from the other side of the call.

She only called to update him. She knew she would be giving birth to their baby without him, she’d prepared for it, planned for it. Tony was devastated that he’d likely not be there for the birth of their child and so despite their geographical distance Sarah was keen to try and keep Tony in the loop as much as she could throughout this process, even if he couldn’t be here. But the second the voicemail prompt played the recording of her husband’s voice, Sarah’s resolve immediately shattered. She was in too much pain, too exhausted, too uncomfortable, too hot, too thirsty…. Everything was wrong and suddenly she couldn’t imagine doing this without him.

“Tony…” she whimpered towards the phone on her pillow, her body shifting on hands and knees atop the bed. “…hoooo…. The baby’s nearly h-here…” she sobbed. “Joss is with me, don’t worry…”

“Hi Tony” Joss chimed in from the background. “Sarah is doing amazing, everything is going perfectly. You’ll be a dad soon.”

“-hooo….Joss says I’m at 9cm… I can feel the baby, our baby… they’re almost here. Ooohhh honey I wish you w-were here… I don’t want to have to do this without you. I can’t do it without… ohhhh… Hooohooo… oh Joss!!… I-need-to-push-I-need-to-push!!” Sarah cried out with a deep groan and shifted on the bed, and in the movement her hand brushed against her phone abruptly hanging up the call.

“It’s okay lovely, don’t panic.” Joss instructed calmly. “You’re doing wonderfully. If you can, try and pant through it. But only if you can, if your body gives a slight push don’t worry, it knows what it’s doing. And once this contraction is finished I’ll have a quick check to see if we’ve made it to ten. Okay?” Joss perched on the bed beside Sarah, her hand rubbing up and down the labouring woman’s flat back as she rocked and panted and whimpered through this latest contraction. Sarah could only nod her head in response to confirm she’d heard and understood.

In a cruel twist of irony, As Sarah was making that call, Tony was queued in passport control still not bothering to turn on his phone. It was after 3am local time and the airport was practically empty. The first batch of passengers for the next batch of red eye flights were milling around but aside from the relatively short queue at passport control from this flight there were almost no staff on site. He gritted his teeth at the two processing staff on the desks as he knew they wouldn’t have opened every desk for this time of the day… he just wanted to be home.

As he finally stepped through the other side with a stamped passport in hand, he turned on the phone as he walked towards baggage reclaim. Some 30 seconds later he was surprised by a chime on his phone and notification of both 2 missed calls and 2 voicemails. He looked down and he seen they were from Sarah.

His heartbeat picked up a pace as he dialled into his messenger. What he heard relayed through the phone speakers felt like his blood had turned to ice.

He might be too late. He checked the time of the last call, it was only a few minutes ago. He frantically dialled Sarah’s number.

Sarah in turn was wailing. It was getting too much. She wanted the baby out, she wanted to push, she wanted Tony to be there. The alien sound of the music playing from the phone on the pillow shocked both her and Joss into momentary silence.

Sarah managed a moment of focus and gasped “Tony” as she realised the name on the screen and forgetting she was currently mid contraction her hand frantically reached for the phone. Half a second to answer the call, another fraction of a second to switch to speaker and finally… “Tony is that you?” She gasped, the pain and shakiness in her voice more than evident.

“Yes baby it’s me. Have I missed it? Do we have our baby.” He sounded frantic himself.

“No Tony, where are you? Can you stay on the call, I need you, I need to push!” She groaned through the contraction.

“Baby…. I’m… Baby… Surprise I’m back home.” Tony managed to blurt out. “I’m at the airport. I’ve gotten special leave. I was going to shock you at home but it seems you got me instead. I’m jumping in a taxi now and I’ll be home soon. Please if you can, hold on.”

Tony could hear the grunting and moaning of his wife through the earpiece of the phone. It took a few moments for her to compose herself until Sarah managed a reply,

“Hurry. I’ll try not to push but it’s harder and harder with each minute. I can feel the head. It’s bulging between my legs.”

Joss was witness to that statement. She had watched Sarah huff and puff her way through several contractions trying not to push but her own body couldn’t be stopped. She knew the head was moving past her pubic bone and she would soon be pushing, no attempt to prevent pushing would likely work now. She leaned over to whisper into Sarah’s ear,

“Just pant when you feel the urge. We can try and hold off as long as we can.” Speaking a little louder for Tony’s benefit “she’s doing great, but you better find a taxi driver willing to put his foot down!”

Forgetting any thoughts of collecting his luggage, Tony rushed through baggage claim and headed straight for the doors beneath the sign “Nothing to declare” and he burst frantically into arrivals. All the while the sounds of Sarah panting and groaning played in his ear through the phone he was gripping tightly at his head.

“You’re doing wonderful sweetie, keep breathing.” Tony tried to encourage, his own breath laboured as he ran through arrivals, out the exit, and into the cold night air.

It was the middle of the night, the airport was quiet and when he got outside he saw there were no taxi’s parked by the doors. His stomach plummeted; Sarah was literally giving birth right now, he was so close to home, so close to making it for the arrival of his child. Why the hell were there no taxi’s!?!

His hand ran through his dishevelled hair as he looked up and down the road, heart thumping in his chest. Meanwhile Sarah could be heard grunting down the phone followed by a panicked cry of “Oh no! I’m pushing!”

“You looking for the taxi rank mate?” Someone asked, Tony turned to find an airport staff employee on his left who’d come out for a smoke.

“Yes, where are the taxis?” Tony asked desperately.

“Just up there ‘round the corner. They moved it few weeks back.” The stranger instructed.

Tony immediately set off in a run up the pavement, shouting a “Thank you!” back at the man.

“Hold on honey I’m on my way!” Tony breathed heavily down the phone as he jogged and saw the glorious sight of 6 taxi’s parked by the other airport exit.

Sarah’s face was buried in the pillow, backside in the air, as her body involuntarily pushed. Her hands pulled and squeezed the feather pillow while her groaning had turned primal. She lifted her head gasping for breath and fearfully asked Joss “is the baby coming out??”

“Not yet dearie, don’t worry. But it’s coming down, I can see the very top of its head when you push.” Joss said from her position behind Sarah, sat on the bed in her patient’s dressing gown.

“I don’t want to push… Tony needs to be here…” Sarah whimpered.

“Oh honey, you’re not going to be able to prevent your body from pushing when it needs to. But it’s okay, baby is only just starting to appear. It’ll take a bit before they’re crowning so we have time.” Joss tried to keep Sarah calm, knowing how important it was for both parents to be here. But she also knew that Mother Nature could not be controlled, and the baby would come when they were good and ready. “Pant through the ones you can, and if your body starts to push just stay calm and ride it out. Okay?”

Tony stopped short at the taxi at the front of the lot, the driver not even noticing. He tapped on the window, the driver suddenly jumping to attention and unlocking the door.

“I need a favour; I need you to go really fast… my wife is having a baby.” Tonys words were frantic.

“I’ll do whatever I can without killing us…” came the reply from the taxi driver as Tony dived into the back seat, still listening to his wife’s grunting moans from the other side of the call. He buckled the seatbelt, and after confirming the address, they were off, narrowly avoiding screeching tires in the process.

“I’ve had to rush a mother to hospital once, but never rushed a dad back to the mum.” The taxi driver tried to say conversationally, but Tony didn’t respond, he was too busy listening to the headset at his ear and speaking words of assurance to Sarah at the other end.

“I need to see you” announced Tony as he pulled the phone away from his ear and swapped it to video mode. Sarah managed to swap the phone modes over and in front of Tony’s eyes was his exhausted looking wife’s face, her hair bedraggled and sweaty, her face red and looking like she’d just finished running a marathon.

“Darling, you look beautiful” came Tony’s response. Sarah managed a guffaw as the next contraction started up, filling the car with the sounds of her moaning and screaming efforts.

“I’m on my way” he announced.

“I can’t hold on, I need to push!” came the wailing reply

“I can see the baby’s hair!” a third voice of Joss joined the conversation.

Sarah had completely lost any sort of control and was working purely on an instinctual need to deliver this baby. She had tried so hard to keep the baby inside her - not to spread her knees, not to push - desperately wanting to delay the birth long enough for Tony to make it back from the airport. However, as the baby’s head crept lower and lower, filling the birth canal, it became too overwhelming and there was absolutely nothing Sarah could do to stop her body from trying to birth the babe.

Just an hour ago Sarah had wanted nothing more than a quick and straight forward delivery, but discovering Tony was not only on his way home but already back in the country - at their nearest airport no less - had changed everything. After that, everything had changed so fast it left her spinning. Suddenly she was fighting her body’s cue’s instead of listening to them.

Rocking forward and back on all fours Sarah had endured wave after wave of agonising contractions, and every one of them pushed and squeezed of their own accord, the baby inching closer towards its exit. Joss had tried to keep her calm, help her pant through the incessant demands of her body to push, but all too soon she was bearing down without permission. She had cried out, announcing it to both Joss and Tony, and she could hear the panic in Tony’s voice as he made his way towards their family home.

Hearing her husband’s voice was her anchor, his reassuring encouragement echoing out the phone was a lifeline in the storm. And when it switched to video gave her the comfort she never knew she needed. But the contractions were too strong, her labour way too advanced for her to truly appreciate seeing him on the tiny screen. Suddenly she couldn’t hold back any more, the head felt like it was barrelling through her at speed and there was absolutely no stopping it - she had to make room, she had to widen her hips, she had to push.

Sarah suddenly announced that she was in too much pain, and flopped out of view of the camera. “What’s happened, where are you?” came Tony’s pleading cry.

Falling on her side and grabbing her leg behind the knee, Sarah finally gave up and followed her body’s cues and gave it everything she had. The distant sounds of her husband’s voice echoed from somewhere on the bed. She didn’t know what had happened to the phone, she didn’t know how far away Tony was, all she knew was that this baby was coming and it was coming now. With senses overwhelmed, the pressure building, Sarah narrowed her world right down to just her and the baby.

Joss took the initiative and grabbed the phone from the pillow, holding it up in the direction of Sarah, who had given up trying to hold the baby in place, and had put her chin to her chest, pulled her leg back and was pushing with all her might. Her face was scrunched up, her breath was held, and with the angle that Joss had put the phone at, Tony could see directly between Sarahs legs. He saw the bulging skin surrounding her vagina, the parting of her lips to see the darkened spot between as the head slowly started to emerge.

“Hurry!” shouted Tony to the driver, who in turn put his foot down a little more, any pretence of sticking to the speed limits lost at this time. He weaved in between cars doing both overtaking and undertaking to keep the pace down the motorway getting ever closer to their ultimate destination.

Joss moved back into position between Sarah’s legs and kept one hand on the phone, the other rubbed Sarahs knee as she finally gave up on the push, the head slipping back into the bulging area. “Good girl, keep on going like that and you’ll see your baby soon.”

Sarah was wailing at this point with every push. Tony’s heart ached each time she shouted, knowing he was only 10, maybe 15 minutes away from her. He shouted what he could into the handset, hoping it was coming through loud enough at the other side so that Sarah could hear him over her own strained shouts. She could feel the comforting touch of Joss’s hand on her leg, the faint words of encouragement from both her midwife and her husband as she pushed, but her focus was on the baby crowning between her legs.

“You’re doing great baby. Another push like that. Give it all you can, I’m here as best I can. I’ll be back soon. Push baby, push!”

“Tony, I need to put the phone down now” came the voice from Joss, “I need both my hands to make sure that she stretches properly.”

“Of course… do what you need to do.” Tony was heartbroken he couldn’t see anymore, just in case his baby was born without him being able to see, but he knew that Joss had said the most sensible thing. Suddenly his view shifted to the bedroom ceiling.

His focus instead moved to the road ahead of him. He knew the route, he knew how long it took, he knew he was 10 minutes from home at the sort of speeds the driver was doing. He was just thankful for early morning traffic being all but non existent. He continued to shout encouragement down the line taking Joss’s lead as she announced when Sarah was pushing by chanting her on herself.

Finally, the taxi pulled up in front of his house. Taking a wad of notes from his wallet, the driver was given what must have been 5 times the fair as Tony thanked him and announced “Baby, I’m here” before charging into the house and hanging up the phone.

Tony shoved the door closed behind him as he flew up the stairs two at a time, the roaring sound of Sarah’s effort ringing around the house.

He burst through the bedroom door to be met with the following scene:

Sarah had her leg pulled back and clearly visible between them was the round, bulbous shape of a baby’s head, well on its way to being born.

Between Sarah’s legs, pressing gently on her parting lips and supporting the head as it slowly emerged was Joss… though why she was dressed in a dressing gown - Sarah’s dressing gown at that - was a complete mystery.

Sarah’s eyes flew open and acknowledged Tony’s arrival with a pleading glance whilst mouthing the word ‘help’ - she didn’t manage to actually make a sound she was so exhausted and focused on the push.

Sarah suddenly closed her eyes again and once more put her chin to her chest, vocalising all the effort she was putting by yelling loudly, as Tony raced around to the other side of the bed and practically vaulted up to it on his knees, grabbing Sarah’s suddenly offered hand. This in turn caused her to let go of the leg she was holding up, so Sarah’s foot found purchase on Tony’s trousers to press against.

“Sarah you’re doing it, you’re doing so well” Tony yelled, his voice loud and proud at that moment.

“Almost there, take a breath and back at it girl” came the voice of Joss, as Sarah gasped a lung full of air and did it again.

Tony watched in fascination as the head of his child slipped further and further out until Sarah gave a grunt, and the head was finally born to the baby’s chin.

Joss worked fast as she tugged and loosened the baby’s cord, then jumped up off the bed to grab a spare towel to press around the fluid pooling between Sarahs legs and spreading over the bed - the waterproof sheet doing what it was meant to do, but the thin top sheet having nowhere near the absorbency needed.

All the while Tony was staring into Sarah’s exhausted eyes as she did the same in return, the two of them exchanging shocked babble between them;

“You did it.”

“There’s a head… I pushed out a head”

“You did so well darling”

“I’m so glad you made it, why didn’t you tell me”

“I thought you liked surprises…”

Joss cleared her throat as the other two looked her over. She was muttering to herself. “Looks like I’ll need to put this in the wash too” she said looking at the soaked dressing gown which had caught a gush of amniotic fluid as the head was pushed out.

“Actually, I’d been meaning to ask about that” Tony asked, finally having a moment to breathe and assess the situation.

“Later…” grunted Sarah as she gripped tight against his hand and closed her eyes again. “Baby’s coming”

Sarah’s leg shook as she dived into the next push. She could feel the baby’s shoulders, pressing and stretching, feeling like it was pulling her apart. Without her hand to hold up her leg the trembling limb started to lower, legs drifting towards each other in an unconscious attempt to lessen the pain.

“No… Sarah keep them open. Your baby’s almost here.” Joss instructed, then turned to Tony “Support her leg, keep it raised.”

Tony kept one hand for Sarah to squeeze and used the other to support her shaking leg as the baby turned and inched its way in to the world. “I can see their face! You’re doing amazing honey, keep going!”

Releasing a primal wail at the end of a big but unproductive push Sarah suddenly flopped her head down on the pillow. “Hooo- why won’t it come out?” She whimpered through gasped breath.

“It’s okay Sarah, you are doing brilliantly. I can see the shoulders, you’re so, so close.” Joss gave Sarah’s thigh a comforting pat, her hands poised above the baby’s head ready to help their exit if required. “I think they’ll be here on the next one if you give us a really big push dearie. Now did mum or dad want to deliver the baby?” Joss asked the soon-to-be-parents.

“No…. Don’t… don’t touch…” Sarah grumbled waving a hand in the space between her legs to deter anyone getting too close. Her eyes were closed and she was focussed on her deep breaths, gathering her strength for the final hurdle.

“That’s okay, we’ll do whatever you want hun.” Joss assured and moved her hands up in surrender, but stayed close by.

Sarah growled and grunted as she pushed, swept away by the contraction and the primal need to deliver the baby. Pushing hard and with everything she had, the labouring mother shook from head to toe, the physical strain showing her monumental effort

The bedroom held a collective breath, feeling like time had stopped. Sarah had gone eerily quiet as her face reddened and knuckles whitened, and then with a gasp of sheer relief the baby slid from its mother onto the towels.

“Oh my god oh my god… my baby…” Sarah incoherently babbled, eyes flying open and hands reaching.

Tony watched the birth of his baby… his son in mute amazement. Suddenly lying there in between Sarah’s legs was this wriggling thing that looked so messy but equally so perfect. He suddenly realised he had tears in his eyes - this big strong burly man who killed for a living suddenly having this other being he would give his life for to protect.

All those thoughts shot through his mind in an instant as only a few seconds later, before either he or Joss could react to Sarah reaching between her legs for the baby, it let out a loud cry.

Joss proceeded to lift the baby up to Sarah’s hands as she in turn lifted the baby to her chest, exhausted pants signalling the end of her ordeal.

As the baby settled into the warmth of his mother’s chest, it still didn’t help calm the yowls of crying he was determined to release.

Tony leaned in and kissed both his wife and his son in turn, wrapping his arms in an embrace around them both… though of course refusing to squeeze too hard just in case.

Over the course of the next 30 minutes Joss oversaw the delivery of the placenta and cut the umbilical cord, whilst Sarah provided the baby’s first feed.

As the sun rose on a new day, the baby’s vitals were taken as Tony helped Sarah get cleaned up.

All that was going through his mind during that time was to thank his luck that he managed to make it back in time.

#fpreg #birth kink #birth #labor kink

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astrolynnworld · 9 months

Text

needs

pairing: chris x reader

summary: chris is struggling to figure out who he is and the reader offers her help

warnings: smut! confusion, worry, doubt, reassurance, help, comfort, sub chris, needy, lust, mommy kink, riding.

a/n- a request with my own little twist on it

word count: 991

chris has been acting so weird lately..

not even weird as in like abnormal but just weird as in unnecessary clingy.

well, sometimes at least.

one day he’ll be himself where he’s independent but the next day he’ll be so dependent and needy with me.

it’s even followed us into the bedroom where sometimes he’ll get all soft and needy instead of taking complete control

i figure that i should probably talk to him about it before jumping to conclusions.

i make my way to the bedroom and find chris coming out from the shower.

“hey babyyy” he says happily as he places a kiss on my cheeks

“can i talk to you about something real quick?” i ask

“yeah sure what’s up?” he says cautiously

“i’ve noticed that you’ve been really clingy and needy lately? is there any specific reason? .. that you would like to share?” i hesitantly say

“um? i haven’t really noticed .. in what way?” he questions

“like .. i don’t know .. you’ve just kind of been submissive lately..” i reply

“submissive? i’m not submissive.. why would you think im submissive? you know im not submissive..” he defends like he had been caught

um? why is he so defensive

“alright chris. what’s going on? cause that’s really just my opinion. why are you so jumpy at it?”

he lets out a sigh, “i don’t really know. i want to try a new dynamic in our relationship where you take care of me.. in a sense that i can rely, be clingy and depend on you. not all the time in every aspect but.. certain things” he confesses

“like what specifically?” i ask

“.. like sex”

“you want me to take more charge in sex?” i confirm

“yes- but not only that. when we have our romantic moments too.. i guess sometimes i wouldn’t mind being little spoon or someone you cling onto” he continues

“why didn’t you say anything earlier baby?”

“i was scared of how you’d react.. if you’d be down with it or kinda shut it down” he shyly confesses

“of course id be down with it baby” i grab his chin and places a kiss on his lips, “you don’t ever need to feel ashamed to tell me about a fantasy”

he whines as i pull my lips away from him and slowly chases after another kiss to which i complete

we slowly make out before i prop myself into his lap give myself a better angle at his lips

he whines at the contact and i push him back into the bed as i straddle on top of him, not breaking the kiss

i grind slowly into his lap as i start to take off my shirt

he continues to whine and look up at me

i bend back down and kiss his neck before sliding him out of his shirt

i hop up off the bed and slide him out his pants and boxers before doing the same with my own, slowly.. giving him a show

he whispers a “fuck” at the sight of my teasing

i hop back up on the bed and sit on his thigh as i start to jerk his cock

he leans back on his elbows and stares at the motion of my hand going up and down on his cock that was dripping precum

he whimpers a soft “please fuck me y/n. i need you so bad”

i smirk at the comment and tell him to beg for it

“don’t do this to me. please i need you so bad baby i need you to fuck me.. i’m yours mommy just fuck me please” he whines out

“mommy? so you wanna be a good boy huh?” i respond to his slipped up fetish

“yes mommy. fuck- i wanna be only your good boy”

i prompt myself on his cock and sink down onto the tip

“fuck- mommy you feel so good please bounce on me” he whimpers

i continue to bounce up and down a few times before slowly grinding on his cock

he looks up at me through squinted eyes from the pleasure and pulls me down to suck my tits

licking and sucking at my nipples while he tries to thrust up into me

“you like the way mommy makes you feel?”

i feel his cock twitch inside me as he hums at my nipple

“such a good boy baby! mommy’s gonna make you feel good. don’t worry” i say as i raise back up and start to pick out the pace

breathing heavy and throwing his head back into the bed, he continues to let out a series of gasps and whimpers

“fu- fuck mommy mmmm i don’t kn- know how much longer i can last.. feels too good” he mumbles out through his whimpers as he shuts his eyes closed to chase his high

“it’s okay baby. you can cum for mommy. cum for mommy like the good boy you are” i spit out before going down to kiss him as he cums

he moans sloppily into my kiss as he starts to fuck up into me and let his orgasm wash over

i sit back up on his cock and slow down my bouncing

“that was so hot chris.” i let out

“mhm. so good” he mumbles out as he tries to regain his breath

i laugh and make my way to the bathroom to pee

i come back with a little towelette so i can clean up the mess off his dick

after throwing it away i come back and cuddle him underneath a blanket that was pushed to the side of the bed

“im glad we did this. you make me feel so understood and complete”

“of course chris. i love you so much, you don’t have to hide anything from me”

“i love you more baby.” he says as we drift off into each others silence

————————————————————————

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internerdionality · 1 year

Text

Reflections on how much Sense8 rewards rewatching/carefully parsing scenes.

Season 1, Episode 10 (“What is Human”) opens with Wolfgang walking through a Holocaust Memorial in Berlin. He is visited by Will (an American).

Will (reading from the wall of the memorial): ""Is the Holocaust an aberration or a reflection of who we really are?"

Wolfgang: Why is it so loud where you are?

(We hear distant crowds in the background)

Will: It's Independence Day.

Wolfgang: What is best in life, huh?

(He is quoting his favorite lines from Conan; in previous episodes we have heard him and his best friend, both in current time and in flashbacks, deliver the entirety of this quote: ""Conan! What is best in life?" "To crush your enemies -- See them driven before you, and to hear the lamentation of their women!")

Will: I don't understand.

Wolfgang: No, you wouldn't.

So, basically, this scene directly connects America's colonialism/military jingoism and the way its civilians naively celebrate those military victories with Nazi Germany... in just a few lines that go straight over most of our heads...

#Sense8

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devilishchaos · 1 year

Text

Wildin', on a boat on an island | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: M (18+); smut, fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Y/N and Rúben go on vacation..again.

Warnings: Explicit smut, explicit talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected vaginal penetration (don't do it!!! stay safe!), hair grabbing, use of pet names "baby", "babe", "princesa"

AN: manifesting this photos energy <3 enjoy x

Word Count: 5 871 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you analyzed the shirtless brunette standing in front of you, your arms were crossed firmly across your chest. His eyebrows were raised as he awaited your answer, his back pressed against the kitchen island.

“You are suggesting we don’t sleep together for the vacation..why?” you questioned, waiting for a decent explanation.

“Because..my parents room is literally 30 centimeters from ours.” he explained quickly as he shrugged his shoulders with ease “AND I didn’t say that we can’t sleep in the same room! Just no funny business while in it..”

For more context, Rúben had asked you to accompany him on a little trip, on this beautiful boat on his family vacation. And has decided that now - an hour till you guys go on the boat - is the perfect time to let you know he didn’t want to have sex with you.

“It’s not like that has stopped you before?!?” you questioned him, with some suspicion still.

“Babe..in the house is different. It’s a big house. Practically no one can hear us.” he answered with obviousness, it was a simple but logical answer “Listen, I’m going to go upstairs to bring your luggage down and put it in the car, while you cool off a bit, yeah?”

You already knew it was probably one of the worst ideas he'd ever had and considering it's impulsive, spontaneous Rúben we're talking about..it was indeed terrible.

"No." you replied simply, with no further explanation or motives as to why.

Rúben looked actually taken aback by your answer, not being used to getting a ‘no’, not even from you. Though, he knew the only reason you'd said ‘no’ was to contradict him, and you, having no apparent reason to refuse, was an open invitation for Rúben to keep insisting.

“Come on, it'll only be three days out.” Rúben insisted, using the nicest voice he could “Out there in the nice sea, with perfect weather, with food, drinks and a nice AC system... yeah? Plus - the boat has a double jacuzzi! Yeah?” he questioned you with a raised eyebrow, and at that, you shut your mouth.

“I-”

“Uh huh, exactly.”

“I can live without it!”

“Oh, come on Y/N..” Rúben sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a few seconds, as if recharging his patience before adding “I'll give you whatever you want, whatever it is, I'll get it for you..after those three days. The only condition is - no sex on the boat."

That really got you thinking.

“I can’t believe you. You sound really confident in yourself right now! Why do you think it is going to be me that is going to initiate something with you first? But you’re lucky that I love João, Bernardete and Ivan and would love to spend time with them. Have a great day Mr. Dias.” and with that you went inside the house to get your luggage because you are an independent young lady, who is not going to let things play out like her boyfriend wants to.

In no time at all, the five of you were out. Rúben told you it would take a couple of hours to reach the perfect spot and if everything went well the fun on the boat could start in the early hours of the next day.

It didn't seem like a bad plan, so you saw no reason to complain, it seemed fair. And if it wasn't so many days together you could easily ignore him.

Rúben had kept his word about the ship's commodities, there were all kinds of snacks, drinks, and he had brought other kinds of substances. It was actually very comfortable and a part of you was glad you'd accepted to join them. But you still weren’t able to relax knowing your man didn’t wanna sleep with you.

To say you were pissed at him was an understatement, but you were at that point of anger where you didn't even bother to show it, you immediately resorted to ignoring Rúben, which was very hard to do considering the fact that he was walking basically naked around you, only wearing his stupid short shorts that you wanted to rip off of him so bad.

You had had your doubts about it at first, but now you were more than grateful that you had packed your swimsuits. Since you were giving Rúben the cold shoulder, you would have to find another way to entertain yourself; and being that you were in the sea and the weather is so nice, the most logical and comfortable thing to do would be to lie down on your towel, put on your sunglasses on and at least get a good tan out of it.

Rúben, on the other hand, was annoyed with himself. He knew it was among the possibilities that you would get mad at him and do just what you are doing now, which is ignoring him completely.

He hadn't seen you since last night, when you two had an argument during dinner about sleeping in separate rooms, which you insisted on. Since he didn’t wanna have sex with you - you didn’t want to tempt him..yet.

Rúben felt his heart almost leap out of his chest as soon as he saw you come out of the booth, in your red swimsuit, the one that accentuated every curve of your body. You'd worn it around him before, and the last time you did, he fucked you in the pool.

You seemed not to have seen him, or if you had, then you did a very good job of pretending he wasn't there. Once you knew you were within his range of view and he could see you perfectly well, you bent over to lay your towel on the floor of the boat, feeling the fabric of your bathing suit slide slightly over your butt. It wasn't much, but just enough.

Rúben’s jaw tightened so bad he feared his teeth would crack, to keep from letting out a groan at the sight, he closed his eyes shut and gripped the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white; focusing on what Ivan was telling him, trying to get the image of you, bent over a few feet in front of him in nothing but your bathing suit, out of his mind.

Rúben knew you were doing it on purpose, you knew how much he liked that bathing suit on you. But today? Right now? You were playing very dirty games with his head.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't take his eyes off you. The way your skin glowed under the sun, how well your swimsuit fit and the fact that you were doing this to provoke him, caused his shorts to feel too tight all of a sudden.

Rúben didn't even know what to do with himself, so he decided to go take a cold bath; he wouldn't give you the satisfaction of messing with his head like that.

He excused himself and exited the small cabin, leaving Ivan, and you lifted your head to see him walk away. Rúben looked a little uncomfortable and you noticed how he slightly tugged the front of his shorts as he walked.

"What, do I make you nervous, Rúbes?" you teased in a loud voice, causing him to turn around and flip you off. Without saying anything else, Rúben entered another door and slammed it shut.

And with that, a little victory smile appeared on your lips.

Eventually, tanning got boring. You looked down at your own body and lifted the edge of your swimsuit slightly, the tan lines were just the way you liked them, on point. Full of satisfaction, you gathered your things and decided to go back inside, maybe to take a bath and eat something.

You entered quietly, not wanting to attract anybody's attention. You walked down the hallway to the bathroom. Just as you grabbed the bathroom doorknob to open it - the door opened. Out of the bathroom came Rúben, with nothing but a towel tied around his hips. You stopped dead in your tracks in the hallway at the sight, which you couldn't deny was very good. The towel was wrapped around Rúben’s hips so low that his prominent V-line was visible to a rather dangerous point, one you didn't want to let your eyes get to.

He was shirtless obviously, so you had a perfect view of his defined torso and muscular arms, some water droplets still rolled down his body, making a path from his chest, down his abdomen and getting lost under his towel.

His hair was still wet, framing his face perfectly. His dark eyes were fixed on you, and you realized, too late already, there was a little smile on his lips, prompted by the way you were eyefucking him.

“What, do I make you nervous, princesa?” Rúben questioned you, using the same condescending tone and smirk you had earlier, as he took a step closer to you.

You genuinely felt your knees weaken at his voice and the way he looked, but you were too proud to let him know that, so you simply shrugged.

“Come closer and maybe I'll tell you.” you teased with a low tone, letting your eyes travel down his body.

Rúben’s smirk only grew and you thought that finally you two were on the same page, thinking about the same thing, and more importantly, that it would happen. He took a confident step towards you, so this way he was towering over you, his chest barely inches away from yours, his lips basically hovering over yours.

You placed both hands on his body, letting them travel from his abs all the way to his chest, causing him to bite his lip at the feeling. Rúben leant down even more, his lips grazing with yours, breaths mixing and skin touching.

And then..

You pushed him out of the way and locked yourself in the bathroom. By doing that, provoking Rúben in that way and then putting a door between the two of you - you had started a silent game, in which you were provoking each other in an obvious way, waiting to see who is going to give in first. And you were determined it is not going to be you.

After hours of playing tease, any slight contact or brush from Rúben’s skin against yours had you biting your lip to silence a sound and any look you gave Rúben with your bedroom eyes had him on the verge of jumping your bones.

The staring game got a little too heavy for Rúben, so he stood up from the booth and walked to the kitchen, pulling out a cold bottle of water to refresh himself. You knew you couldn't let him get away with it, at least not without trying, so you stood up and walked to the kitchen as well, if he asked, then being dinner time would be a perfect excuse.

Rúben heard you walk into the kitchen, but paid no mind, deciding to focus solely on his water, placing a hand on the kitchen island and letting his head hang low. Funny enough, the drawer where pans are kept is right where Rúben is, by his left hand, and sure as hell you wouldn't ask anything from him. Which left you with only one choice.

You walked to where he stood, which he noticed as he turned his head sideways to look at you, and right when he took a step back, you found the perfect opportunity to slip right between him and the kitchen island, your body grinding on him, in all the right places.

The sound of Rúben’s breathing picking up gave you a sense of victory, as you remained in front of him and bent slightly to take out the pan you needed, only to walk away right when you felt him harden behind you and the ghost of his hand over your hip.

He really thought he had you. Again.

Your smile of victory didn't disappear, not even when the stove wouldn't turn on and you had to resort to chopping fruit and hoping that was enough to rid your hunger. Now is when Rúben found the perfect opportunity to tease you back, seeing as you were completely distracted while cutting fruit. He slowly walked back into the kitchen, making sure you couldn't hear him. You were completely clueless to his presence, even when he stood right behind you.

However, as soon as Rúben took another step closer, you did become aware of his presence. Very.

“Oh, don't mind me.” he mumbled in your ear.

“Rúben, what are you doing?” you asked, pretending to be completely unbothered, while the reality is that you're screaming on the inside. His chest was pressed to your back, one of his hands had found its way to your hips, and his breath tingled in your ear.

And right there was when he reached out to grab a glass, which was on the cabinet above your head. The reality is that he didn't have to stretch to reach the glass, it was just a matter of raising his arm. But where was the fun in that?

As he stretched, his body pressed even closer against yours, you could feel him hard against you, his breath now in your ear. And in an attempt to avoid his lips, you bent over, a move that only served in Rúben’s favor, causing you to bite your lip in an attempt to silence the moan that would come from your lips.

You both were thinking the same thing. Of just how easy it would be for him to take you right there and then.

But you wouldn't give up just yet, no sir, you still had one ace up your sleeve. Which is why you picked up your fruit tray and slid out from the right space between the bar and Rúben’s body.

Normally, you wouldn't care if Rúben decided to just watch you eat instead of eating something himself, but right now it had you on edge.

You and his mother were sitting on the couch in the booth, while Rúben and Ivan were sitting opposite of you, their dad fishing on the other end of the boat. Rúben was sitting on the seat in front of you, his legs spread slightly, his hands on his thighs and his eyes fixed on you. He was basically manspreading, occasionally lifting his hips from the chair to ‘get comfortable’, but you weren't stupid.

“Are you done flexing your muscles?” you asked him boredly, raising an eyebrow at him.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed again as you stood up, his eyes followed your hand closely, especially when you drove your fingers to your lips and sucked the remaining fruit juice off them. The sight almost made him roll his eyes, but not in annoyance.

“I'm going to the jacuzzi.” you announced, letting your eyes travel over him. “You continue doing that.”

Even though it had not been an open or direct invitation, you knew Rúben had understood the innuendo.

You hurried to the jacuzzi, taking off your clothes as the water heated up, you poured the bubble soap while letting your hair down, knowing that Rúben wouldn't be long in coming, although he wasn't hot on your heels to disguise how desperate he was, you knew he was coming for you.

As you stared at the steaming, bubbly water, a wicked idea found its way to your mind.

Meanwhile, Rúben paced back and forth in the hallway, running his hands through his hair repeatedly, especially when he stopped and had that urge to open the bathroom door where he knew you were.

You're just a door away and what's holding him back is his pride. Knowing that if he opens that door, he's admitting his need for you. Proving that chasing after you is more important than his pride.

He cursed himself for what felt the longest time before giving in and opening the bathroom door. The first thing he saw was steam. Lots of it. It made him squint his eyes while they trailed over the place in search of you.

His eyes fell on the jacuzzi, it was filled with small bubbles, the room smelt like you, white musk scent surrounding you. And there you were, your back pressed against the side of the jacuzzi, arms spread over the edge, the bubbly water covering your body, stopping right below your collarbones, just atop of your chest.

His mind automatically went places, but Rúben kept his thoughts at bay as he took off his shirt without a word. You did nothing but stare at him, your eyes following his every move, from the way he gripped the edge of his shirt, to the way he slid it off his body and his torso came into view.

Rafe took a step closer, but he felt something soft under his foot, so he looked down. And what did he find?

Your swimsuit.

At first he didn't process entirely what it meant, but then his eyes widened.

You were naked.

In the jacuzzi that's just a couple of steps away from him.

And he was just..standing there like an idiot? Rúben was embarrassed of himself.

A soft giggle escaped your lips when you noticed how flustered Rúben suddenly got, he actually struggled while taking off his shorts and if you hadn't been so amused by the view, you would have offered to help.

Eventually he stopped fumbling with its ties and right when he pulled it down his hips, you looked away. Your tongue glided over your teeth as you felt the temptation to look, but you were stronger than that.

“Enjoying the jacuzzi you said you could live without?” Rúben asked in a calm tone as he got in it, sitting by your right side.

“Very much.” you assured, running your hand through the water, moving the bubbles slightly, you really had no intention other than to distract yourself from how nervous you were, still, Rúben tried to see through the bubbles.

He couldn't handle himself anymore, he had denied himself of you for so long that he wanted you now. Told himself he was crazy. But now that he has you in front of him - he will do anything to have you.

And an idea popped up in his mind. He knew this would be pathetic, lame even, but it would work.

As you both did nothing but enjoy the hot tub and tried to ignore each other's bodies, Rúben discreetly slid his hand to the side control panel of the hot tub. Although he would never admit it, he spends so much time in the hot tub that he learned the controls by heart. So he knew exactly which buttons to push to disable two of the hot tub jets, the ones on your side, for that matter.

Your state of relaxation was interrupted as soon as you stopped feeling the hot water flowing on your side of the jacuzzi, the vibrations had stopped and you no longer felt the soft massages on your skin.

You raised your head and opened your eyes, noticing that indeed, the water stopped on your side. “What the..”

“What's wrong?” Rúben asked, his eyes closed as he did his best to hide a little smirk.

“The water just..stopped?” you replied in confusion, not understanding why he was so calm.

“Oh, that's bad. My side is just fine.” he replied simply, opening his eyes.

You rolled your eyes at his disinterested tone. You couldn't believe that you had actually gone out of your way to plan all this and he couldn't even stop getting on your nerves for a second.

Utterly done with his bullshit, you slowly moved to the little steps that led out of the hot tub, the last thing you wanted was to slip and embarrass yourself.

However, before you could even reach them, you felt long fingers wrapping around your wrist, his skin was soft and warm due to the hot bubbly water. You turned to look at him, doing your best to keep your eyes focused on his.

“Come closer.” his voice was calm, his fingers softly tugged your wrist; as if wanting to pull you closer but not quite to make you uncomfortable.

You complied to his request and walked slowly to where he sat, the bubbles doing all the work and covering your body from his. You kept getting closer, Rúben slowly opened his legs, so you could stand between them.

The feeling of the skin of his thighs against yours was your cue to stop, knowing that if you took one step closer, you'd feel him against you.

His eyes bore on yours. The hazel color of his eyes was darkened by the lust running through his body, his pupils were dilated, his lips plump and red. He was one hell of a handsome man.

Your faces were inches away from each other, but neither of you would yield to the temptation.

You bit your lip slightly as soon as you felt Rúben’s large hands resting on your hips, the grip was firm, showing he wasn't hesitating.

Testing the waters, you took a step closer and he let you, the grip on your hips becoming firmer and more secure, you could even say you felt him pulling you into his body slightly.

Keeping eye contact, Rúben’s hand began to slide lightly, brushing your hip with his fingertips. His hand moved down to your thigh, where he caressed your thigh with his fingertips, drawing imaginary circles, which moved closer and closer to the center of your legs.

Knowing exactly what he was doing, you felt fire in the pit of your stomach. You wanted him. And you wanted him now. But you also didn't want to give him the satisfaction. Maybe after all you were as stubborn as he claimed you were.

You motioned to move your leg, and immediately, Rúben took a hold of your thigh, stopping you. A smirk appeared on your lips. Without saying anything, you yielded to his touch and moved even closer, putting your leg over his thigh and quickly bringing the other leg up as well, straddling him.

The direct contact of your skin with Rúben’s, your core brushing against his dick..made him let out an agitated sigh right in your ear.

And you would have teased him about it, but the truth is that the contact of his hard dick against your body almost made you moan. He was right under you, all it took was for you to raise slightly and for him to align himself.

Ignoring how much you wanted to grind on him, you put your arms around his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck in the process, moving even closer, your chest pressed against his and your chin resting on his shoulder, wanting to enjoy the warm water a while longer before the inevitable happened.

Rúben’s arms wrapped around your body, your breasts pressed against his chest, your pussy brushing just the right places on his dick. If this is the game you wanted to play, then Rúben would be just as good at it.

He lifted his hips slightly and at that you couldn't help but let out a gasp, which you prayed he hadn't heard, but he did and it only fed his ego.

As his fingertips caressed your spine, Rúben moved your hair from your shoulders to get better access and brought his lips to your neck. He started with innocent kisses, little brushes of his lips against your skin, while his fingertips caressed your skin.

However, he was determined to break you. He brought his lips to the small spot below your ear, where he sucked, receiving an audible moan from you. One of his hands had slid down your back until it ended at your left asscheek, which he squeezed and used to push your body against his, causing you to grind on him.

“Fuck..” you mumbled, throwing your head back out of mere instinct.

He had so many dirty comments to make, but he decided to concentrate on you. Since you had thrown your head back, he had more access to your neck. He brought his lips to your skin again, starting to leave little bites and kisses all over, while one of his hands traveled to your breasts, his fingers taking one of your nipples and giving it a twist.

At this you squirmed slightly on top of him, your hips moving against his, rubbing his dick in such a perfect way that it made him growl against your skin.

“You like that, meu amor?” he murmured against your skin, voice husky “Want me to do it again?”

“Yes.” you mumbled breathlessly.

His fingers moved deftly between your legs, as you grasped his jaw and moved his head to the side, so that you could have access to his neck and an efficient way to quiet the sounds he would elicit from you.

His index finger slipped between your folds, while his thumb searched for your clit until he found it, and began to give circular notions. You accidentally left a little bite on his neck, which was welcomed by Rúben , as he started to speed up his thumb and slid his middle finger inside you.

“Rúbenn..” you murmured, your walls automatically tightening around his finger.

“Does this feel good, princesa?” he murmured in your ear as his thumb accelerated his movements, he slid his ring finger in as well, your walls clenching at his voice "Oh it does, you're already clenching around my fingers."

Now he had two fingers inside you, which he began to move in a come hither motion, hitting your sweet spot instantly, the one he had found in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, fuuuck, Rúb-”

He could feel you, how your walls clenched around his fingers so tightly it was hard for him to move them, your kisses on his neck had become sloppy and wet and your eyes were closed. Just when you felt you would reach the tip of ecstasy, Rúben pulled his fingers out of you.

You were about to yell at him, but he spoke first, taking your jaw with one of his hands, fixing his eyes on yours.

“I want to make you cum on my dick, yeah?”

And you swore you could've come right there. Just by his words.

“Yeah?” he questioned again, making you realize it had been more of a way to get your permission.

“Yeah.” you nodded your head eagerly and that was all he needed.

Rúben wrapped his arms around you and stood up, you instinctively wrapped your legs around his torso, biting your lip in anticipation for what was about to come.

Rúben knew the boat like the back of his hand, so in a matter of no time, both of you were in his room. Rúben placed you down on his bed, not caring in the least that you were wetting it.

He was soon close to you again, his lips on your skin. Your breathing started to become erratic, unable to control yourself in the face of the new sensations. His kisses traveled all over your neck, part of your shoulders and even on your jaw.

Without a word, Rúben grabbed you with moderate force by the jaw and caught your lips with his immediately. You lost yourself in the kiss completely, the sensation of his lips against yours stoking the fire within you even more.

Unable to stay still and wanting to discover your whole body, Rúben began to leave kisses and little bites on your neck. You tried to grab his face to bring him back to your lips, but as soon as you tried, he pulled away from you, took your wrists and put them against the bed, his face was above yours, the room was barely being illuminated by the light that was filtering through the blinds, so you couldn't see much, only the shadow of his features.

“You want me?” he asked over your lips, his voice hoarser than usual and his breathing was rapid.

“I want you. So bad.”

You saw the shadow of a victorious smile on his lips and felt them against yours again, he put both hands holding your wrists above your head, and held both of your wrists with one hand, freeing his other one.

His kisses began to descend again, with a slowness that clearly had the sole purpose of driving you crazy. You lifted your hips off the bed so you could feel some more of him, while Rúben took advantage of this and positioned himself between your legs with ease.

He stopped kissing you momentarily, you could feel his breath on your skin and without warning, he returned his hand in between your thighs and now pushed three fingers inside you, while his thumb returned to your clit, you inevitably ended up letting out a moan, as his fingers had hit the right spot again. Having located the spot already, he began to move his fingers faster and deeper, curving them from time to time, accelerating the speed of his thumb as well.

His lips went lower and lower, until his head was between your thighs and your hand was lost in his hair. His lips concentrated on your clit, sucking and circling it with his tongue, making you let out an erotic moan that you were ashamed of, because of how loud it had been.

His hand kept up that incredible rhythm, but what made you almost climax was the feeling after he sucked on your clit and bit down lightly.

“Rú- Rúben..I'm gonna-”

That was all he needed to know to remove his hand, he would keep up with his word. As soon as he moved his hand away from your pussy, you immediately felt the emptiness, but you were too busy getting back to normal to complain.

Rúben brought his fingers covered with your wetness to his lips and licked them clean, the sight of that, combined with the ‘mmm’ that he let out, was mouth watering.

Rúben pulled you closer to him, so that your legs were over his thighs, he placed his hands on the sides of your head. His dick rubbed against your entrance, which brought gasps to both of your lips.

He leaned over you and you could hear his breathing fast and heavy in your ear, it was almost like he was waiting for something.

“What's wrong?” you asked. “Are you doubt- ”

You didn't get to finish saying the sentence, because he entered you with a quick movement of his hips, making you moan immediately, it took a few seconds to get used to the sensation of having him inside you. It always did. No matter how many times you've slept together, he is just so big.

He stayed still for a few seconds, letting out hoarse mumbles of how good you felt, directly into your ear. Once you felt comfortable, you tightened your walls around him, which made him let out a grunt and start moving his hips against yours.

You brought your hands to his neck and pulled his face to yours, bringing your lips together in a desperate kiss, as his hips moved incessantly, one of your hands tangled in his hair and as if on reflex, he put a hand around your neck, squeezing the sides lightly, something that made you moan into his lips.

“How could you do this to me? All that teasing..I’m not made from steel..” he whispered in your ear.

“Rúben, oh my God..”

“I love you so much.”

His words and the movement of his hips made your eyes roll “Don't stop, babe..please.”

He pulled his face away from yours and placed his weight on the arm he had placed at the side of your head, speeding up his movements. You wrapped your legs around his waist to deepen things.

You noticed that he started to slow down, but his movements still had depth. You knew he was doing it so he wouldn't tire quickly, but maybe you could help. You used a considerable amount of strength to be able to turn you both around, ending up on top of him, while he looked at you with his lower lip between his teeth.

Just to tease him further, you slipped his dick out of you and moved away, your body hovering over his thighs. He sat down on the bed, waiting for you to do something, but you only smirked at him.

Rúben sat there while stroking himself and being done with your attitude, grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back to him, starting to fill your breasts with wet kisses and hickeys, biting your nipples from time to time, while you put your legs around him, slowly positioning yourself on top of him, again.

You knew you wouldn’t last too long, anyway.

“Stop teasing me, princesa.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

He used the grip he had on your hips and pulled you down, entering you again, a hoarse moan came from his lips. You pushed him down by the chest so he’d lay down and began to move on top of him, in circles and up and down while his hands were on your hips and yours on his chest.

You knew those moves were only satisfying you, as you moved as you needed to, and Rúben was quick to notice that. The grip he had on your hips began to tighten, a sign that he was getting desperate. Until he finally sat down in a rush, and began to move you at the pace he wanted, as the hand he kept on your hip guaranteed him control.

“You're so stubborn, you know that?” he emphasized every word with a hip thrust.

“Fuck, fu- fuck, Rú- Rúb-..” you weren't even able to say his name, or speak at all.

You placed one hand on his shoulder and another on his neck, starting to move faster. He left sloppy kisses on your chest and you scratched his back, sometimes even left bites on his shoulder to stifle moans, especially when he murmured things in your ear, along the lines of ‘you're mine’, ‘this pussy feels so good’, ect.

It didn't take long before you two began to lose rhythm, his movements were erratic and your speed had slowed. Until he finally came inside you, seeing the way his eyes closed tightly, as heavy breaths came from between his pink lips along with the “Fuck, Y/N, you feel like heaven..” he mumbled, was what made you climax too.

While you both came down from your highs, there was nothing but silence, Rúben was still inside you and remained like that, after he turned you over, collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around his body, both of you falling asleep without another word.

#ruben dias #ruben gato dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias smut #ruben dias fluff #football imagine #football imagines

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pholla-jm · 6 months

Text

Colors

IMAGINE: COLORS - ZORO X READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: soulmate au. a bit ooc? ****************

The world was rather drab in your opinion. Just black, white and grays. And to see color you have to meet a certain person, your soulmate to be more specific.

You hated that idea. If you want to see the world at its fullest you have to depend on a single person? You cursed the deity that created it. You wanted to be an independent person, and falling in love only sounded like it was going to slow you down.

So you continued to live life in monochrome, accepting to live like this. That doesn’t mean you hated every second of it. To make the best of it, you traveled to different islands, exploring different cultures and trying different foods.

It was a good life.

The island you were currently at was quite busy. People constantly bump into each other, shoving, just trying to get to their destination. You wouldn’t be surprised if there were any pickpockets in the area. You didn’t really like it, too many people. So you decided to head to the docks to find your little boat.

However, it was gone. Someone had stolen it. Your day literally couldn’t get any worse.

Your eyes gaze at all the other ships, trying to find one that you deemed worthy enough to get help. A ship with a sheep figurehead caught your eyes. It was rather… cute.

You could see some people walking around on the deck. With a deep sigh, you mentally prepare yourself to play the damsel in distress. Forcing tears to sheen over your eyes, you climb up the ship.

“Excuse me,” You softly say, tears becoming more fresh in your eyes as you try to catch someone's attention.

“Hey! What are you doing on my ship?” You hear a boy call out to you. You look at him, seeing that he was wearing a straw hat and an open vest. You could tell he had his guard up, and you don’t blame him. It is his ship anyway. However, you could tell that it would be rather easy to convince.

“Someone stole my ship… and now I’m stuck here. Can you help me?” “Huh, are you a pirate too?”

What, a pirate?

You didn’t really consider yourself to be a pirate but if it pleased the boy in front of you, then you would say that you were.

“Because if you are, then you’re a terrible pirate.” He says and you almost choke on your spit.

“No,” you whisper while wiping away some tears, “I’m not a pirate. I’m sailing by myself.”

The boy was about to say something until another woman appeared.

“Luffy, who is this person?” A taller woman now stood behind the boy, a slight scowl present on her face.

“I’m (y/n), and my ship has been stolen. I just need passage to the next island… I have berri to pay you with.” You say holding up a small bag of berri, since the rest of it was on your ship. Something that irked you even more.

As soon as the woman heard berri, her scowl lifted away and a bright smile graced her face. “Of course!” She says immediately grabbing the small pouch of money that you had. She walks off, not saying anything else. Leaving you with the boy named Luffy.

“Welcome to the crew!” He excitedly says. You quirked an eyebrow, “uh. Not part of the crew. Just to the next island.”

Luffy ignores you, “I’ll show you to the rest of the crew. That was Nami, she’s our navigator,” he grabs your hand and starts to drag you around the ship. He opens one of the doors, which led to a kitchen. A man stood over the stove, stirring something.

The man sighs hearing the door open. “Luffy, how many times do I have to tell you-” He turns around, ready to scold the boy. However, he stops once he sees you.

“Well, who do I have the honor meeting?” He walks over to you, with a suave smile. “This is (y/n), she’s going to be a part of the crew now. This is Sanji, he’s the cook” Sanji grabs onto your hand, and you just slightly shake your head, “oh no. Just to the next island.” Sanji brings your hand up to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on it. “Well, I do hope you change your mind.” You nervously laugh at him while pulling your hand back, “thanks.”

Luffy grabs onto your other hand, dragging you out of the kitchen.

“This is Usopp!” He shouts pointing to someone with curly hair and quite a long nose. “He’s a-” “I’m the Captain!” He cuts off Luffy. “No! I’m the Captain!”

The two start to bicker, causing you to sweat drop at their antics.

While they are bickering, you decide to look around the ship. Your eyes caught a man that was sleeping on the side of the wall. He had three swords right next to him, and you wondered, who uses three swords?

Leaving the two bickering boys, you walked up to the sleeping man. Wanting to get a closer look at the three swords. However, when you are standing right infront of him, his eyes snapped open, looking straight into your eyes.

Suddenly, you could see this green hair. Something that greatly stood out to you.

Wait.

You could see the color of his hair. You could see every color around you.

It was all too much. The sudden rush of colors causes your head to spin and hurt. There were too many colors that you’ve never seen or heard before. You didn't have time to process the fact that you were now face to face with your soulmate. You rush past the man, and lean yourself over the railing. It wasn’t long until you were puking your guts out.

“Huh, I guess my first impression isn’t that great.” You hear the man speak and you inwardly cringe. He must think you’re disgusting now.

You groan, pushing yourself up to face your soulmate. Now that your headache has calmed down a little, you were able to take a better look at the man. He was tall, and had a few muscles on him. The thing that stood out to you was his green hair. You weren’t expecting to meet your soulmate on a pirate ship, and an actual pirate nonetheless.

“I’m sorry… I wasn’t expecting to meet my soulmate. And the colors… and it was just too much.” You explain. The man hums in response, “I wasn’t expecting my soulmate to sneak up on me.” You purse your lips, “I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you… I was just interested in your swords.”

The corner of his lips twitched, and he was about to say something until Luffy jumped in between the two of you.

“(y/n)! There you are! You met Zoro!” He excitedly says. “Yeah, we met. They’re a part of our crew now, right?” Zoro says and your eyes widen.

It seems like Luffy wasn’t the only one who decided that you were going to be a part of the crew.

“Shhiiishiiishii, yeah!”

Zoro shoots you a look, one of amusement and just a little bit of smugness. “Welcome, I can’t wait to show you more about my swords.”Zoro walks away leaving you speechless and Luffy just a little bit confused. “What was that about?” He asks. “Uh, don’t worry about it.” You answer, “I just found my soulmate…”

#one piece #one piece x reader #oneshot #zoro x you #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #one piece fluff #zoro fluff #zoro x y/n

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msfantasy-comics · 11 months

Text

The Perfect Match

Roy Harper x Reader

Summary: A head cannon in which you are Roy’s perfect match.

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Independence

Throughout Roy’s developmental years, he was always treated with excessive handholding, rules and over exertion of authority.

This has led Roy to feel resentful of constraints.

In his former years, Roy relished the freedom and exercising autonomy through the Outlaws.

Roy really appreciates the sense of freedom you give in your relationship.

Roy: “Would you be upset if I cancel our date tonight? Jason’s back in town.”

You were fully dressed up, ready for your hot date.

Y/n: “Nope.”

And you really meant it.

You took advantage of your hot fit and took yourself on a date.

The flexibility you give him is one of the key factors to your loving relationship.

Adventurous Spirit

Given Roy has spent most of his free time training and practicing the art of archery, Roy needs a romantic partner who shares the passion of adventure.

Roy: “Wow… I never seen anyone shoot the ground when the target is only 5 meters away.

Y/n: “I was just testing the bow resistance…”

Roy: “Uh-huh…”

Whilst you may not be the most talented archer or most fit individual. You are always keen to try and participate.

Your enthusiasm to do better is infectious and Roy just loves and appreciates your willingness to try and do better, especially when it comes to his interests.

Y/n: “Roy did you see, did you see?! I hit the outer ring!”

Supportive and Empathetic

Roy has had to endure many hardships throughout his developmental years which has plagued him every so often during his adult hood such as;

Addiction issues - not only does Roy have past entanglements with addictions which leads him to live a clean life. He had developed a critical eye for intentions, as a trusted friend was the cause to his addiction. Now, Roy analyses everything for deeper motivations. That’s just the result of the trauma and it’s a the reality in which you had accept. Whilst it can be insulting and exhausting to be under the microscope, you always speak your mind freely and bluntly.

Relationship dynamic of being in a team - it’s a struggle for Roy to build trust in others due to his past experiences. He has trouble letting people in, but once your in, you most certainly not getting out. You appreciate the value in which Roy holds you and makes you feel extra safe and comfortable knowing that Roy, no matter what, will always be there for you.

Responsibility as a hero - Roy has had to endure the heavy burden of protecting society as nothing more than a well trained human. Society is never short of criticism and Roy is hard on himself enough as it is. This can lead to feeling emotionally and physically strained. Roy cannot handle the criticism of his short comings when it comes to his romantic entanglements too.

Roy: “Y/n, baby, I’m so sorry I missed your birthday party, it’s just, this woman, and her child-“

Y/n: “Roy! I had the best birthday ever! I took lots of photos, so you could see it all when you finished your patrol. But we can do that later, do you want me to draw you a bath? Have you eaten yet?”

Roy: *pant* “aren’t you-“ *pant* “upset with me?”

Y/n: “Don’t be a silly goose, I know you wouldn’t miss anything intentionally, must’ve been really important. We’ve been together for years, think I don’t know you by now?”

Sense of Humor

Even in the hardest of times, it’s at times easier to just have a laugh.

Roy appreciates that you don’t take difficult situations to seriously and just have a laugh with him.

Roy thinks your extra-adorable since you kept notes on his funniest one-liners.

"Some days, I wish I was a firefighter. All you have to worry about is fire."

"We're supposed to be professionals, yet here we are, running around in spandex, talking to ourselves."

"All these costume changes, and I'm still trying to figure out my life."

In a crowd full of hero’s your laughter amongst the dead silence is always appreciated.

#dc imagines #dc x reader #Roy Harper x reader #Roy Harper imagine #Roy x reader #Arsenal x reader #Arsenal imagine #speedy x reader #speedy imagine #red arrow x reader #red arrow imagine #arrowfam x reader #arrowfam

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hp-hcs · 11 months

Note

Hello.

I really like the way you wrote gay Mattheo. Could I request another fic from this "series"? Thanks in advance 😘

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 7 of my silly lil mlm stories <3)

ENGLISH AIN’T ALWAYS ENGLISH (Chapter Three of Gay Awakening) — british! mattheo riddle x male! american! reader

basically the pair realize their cultural differences

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Here,” you grin, plonking down on the couch next to Mattheo and holding out a cut-out paper turkey shaped like a handprint. “I’m thankful for you this year.”

He took the paper with a baffled expression on his face. “…what?”

“I’m thankful for y- oh. Right. England. Sorry, American holiday, I forgot.”

Mattheo blinked. “You have a holiday where you give each other paper fowl?”

“No. Well, yes, but- y’know, it’s complicated.”

“I see,” he said slowly, in a way that suggested that he did not, in fact, see. “Is it like your… Freedom Day? America Day? Er… what’s it called again?”

“Independence Day. And not really. Sort of. It’s complicated.”

“Well, then what does this holiday celebrate?” Mattheo asked, somewhat amused as he shook the paper turkey to emphasize his point.

You hesitate. “Well…”

“It’s not good, is it?”

“Nope.”

“Ah. Why the turkey?”

“Americans make abhorrent amounts of food for Thanksgiving. Turkey is the main dish, usually.”

“Thanksgi- oh, is that why you said you’re thankful for me?” He looked quite pleased with himself for deducing that.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “It’s a pretty odd cultural event, I guess. We eat a shit ton, watch football, have to see our homophobic relatives; it really is a wonderful holiday.”

“Football? Like the… muggle sport? Where you can’t use your hands at all?”

“Oh, no. I’m talking American football; where they only use their hands. And like, tackle each other and shit.”

“…right. Anyways, back to the turkey day. When is it? Is it today?”

“Nah, it’s in a couple weeks. It’s the fourth Thursday of every November.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

~~~

“Y/N, could you hand me a rubber?”

Mattheo looked up at you after he didn’t hear a response. You were sitting there, dumbfounded, mouth hanging open slightly.

“…Y/N?”

“Jesus Christ, ‘theo, that’s one way to be forward.”

“…what?”

Your face was burning in embarrassment as you fumbled for words. “Please tell me that means something else in snobby Brit.”

“What, rubber?”

“Yes!”

“A… a rubber. You know, to remove errors?” He gave you a baffled look.

You paused. “…I mean you’re not wrong.”

“No, I’m not…?” He trailed off before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, Salazar. Tell me what it means in American.”

“A rubber is a condom.”

“Oh!”

Mattheo looked startled, a pink flush rising in his cheeks. “A rubber- it erases, Y/N. Pencil lead.”

“Then why wouldn’t you just call it an eraser?!”

You’re both silent for a moment, with matching blushes, before you both crack up.

“Oh, god, you don’t wanna mix those up, huh?” You get out between laughs.

~~~

“Hey, ‘theo, you oughta read this A&E article. It’s hilarious.”

“Hilarious feels like an odd term to use, Y/N,” he says, looking puzzled.

“American,” you say reflexively, after months of these vernacular conflicts. “Stands for Arts & Entertainment.”

“Ah,” Mattheo nods, used to your immediate explanation. “Accident & Emergency.”

You both snicker.

~~~

“Oh, man. Looks like Enz and Nott went on a bender,” you snicker.

Mattheo raises an eyebrow wordlessly.

“Got absolutely shitcanned.”

“Gotcha.”

~~~

“What the hell is an aubergine?”

“A vegetable. Purple?”

“An eggplant?”

“Americans really suck at naming things.”

“Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Pants-Aren’t-Actually-Pants-In-British.”

“You’re still mad about that? Well, I’m still disappointed from when you made me ‘biscuits’.”

“Oh, shush.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

had a very awkward conversation today with a british friend and we had that eraser/rubber mixup ourselves 💀

thank you for requesting, you a real one homie <3

#harry potter #hp #fuck jkr #hp x male reader #x male reader #these bitches gay good for them #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x male reader #mattheo riddle

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flxwerydreams · 6 months

Text

I think I like you (I hope you do too)

Lily Evans x Fem!Reader

a/n: first fic!!! pls be kind :) the title is from your text by sundial.

c/w: die joke, swearing. (lmk if i missed something)

You stared at the man with undisguised incredulity. “800 pounds? Are you kidding me? I thought we agreed on 500?” Trevor - or perhaps Troy rolled his eyes at you derisively. He probably thought he was being subtle - that stupid prick.

“It's just how it is, Miss. Moving stuff inside the 'ouse? Well, that's gonna cost you a bit extra, innit? Wouldn't want you gettin' in over your 'ead now, would we?" he jeered at you. His twin, Trevor, you identified from his tag, snickered stupidly at that. The universe was really testing your patience today.

"Seriously? It would've been decent to tell me upfront that moving stuff indoors meant extra charges. This is ridiculous." Trevor turned to you then, all six feet of him tensed and towering over you. "Miss, it ain't on us. You got a problem with it, you take it up with the higher ups. Give us our dosh, we've got other bits to be getting on with." With a sigh you handed over the cash, regretting the choice of passing on your friends’ offers to help you with the move.

With another sigh, you turned back to the big mess in front of you, your hands resting on your hips, visibly expressing the exhaustion you were already feeling. This had seemed like such an exciting idea at first, having your own space all to yourself. The independence and freedom that you had anticipated was certainly there and you were definitely feeling it now. Having to arrange all this furniture by yourself …… very exciting.

You let out a third sigh and felt the weariness seep into your bones. This was going to be a very long day. You took a step toward the covered couch - ready to begin settling into this new place, which would hopefully become your home.

Suddenly, you were ambushed by a lasso which was thrown at your legs with murderous intent. The lasso then purred and you died ….. due to the lasso’s cuteness. “Hello, kitty! Oh, you’re so precious”, you cooed. The cat (not lasso) meowed up at you, rubbing against your shins. “What’s your name, buddy?” you murmured softly, picking it up and settling it in your arms. The only response you received was another meow, and a curious paw on your face. Noticing your open door, you walked towards it, all the while, gently scratching the cat behind its ears. “You seem like such a distinguished member of the society. Oh, is that where you came from?” you wondered to yourself, noticing another open door down the hallway. “And you’re my new neighbour too, it’s so sweet of you to welcome me like that, kitty.” you giggled, shutting your door carefully. “Let's get you back to your owner, shall we?” You walked up to the threshold of your neighbour’s house and knocked on the open door.

Just then, ‘Kitty’, as you had begun to call the cat in your head, jumped down from your arms and ran inside — towards the kitchen, you assumed. Standing on your neighbour’s doorstep awkwardly with no apparent reason was definitely not on your agenda for the day but before you could say or do anything, a figure emerged from said kitchen, you assumed again. Following that, your heart skipped around five or at least two beats.

Standing in front of you was probably the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen. Her red curls were tied up in a top bun and there was a smudge of flour across her left cheek. And she was saying something — to you. “— hall?” She asked, with a curious gaze fixed on you.

“Huh? Sorry — I didn’t hear that, I was - I was thinking something else, sorry” you felt heat rise to your cheeks.

At this, a teasing smile spread on her lips. She replied with a playful lilt to her tone "I said, I hope Crookshanks didn't give you any grief, darlin', and I was wonderin' if you're the new neighbour down the hall."

“Oh yes, I am.’’ you replied hurriedly. “I’m in 403. Which you probably already know, cus' of all the noise.” Then you registered her previous statement. “Oh, wait — his name is Crookshanks? That’s such a cute name! How old is he?”

“He’s four!” she replied eagerly. “He’s Himalayan. And I’m Lily Evans. What’s your name, love?” she asked, walking up to you.

It was so hard not to stare at her — she was radiant, and you realised with a start that your palms were sweaty as hell. Quickly wiping them on the back of your thighs, you extended your right hand forward as you told her your name — mostly so that you would have something to do with them, but also because she was just so pretty. Although you didn’t want to be a creep, her hands looked so soft. You realised too late that they also looked dusty. The apologetic smile on her face just made you want to cringe even more.

"I'm terribly sorry. I was actually just whipping up some cookie dough for your welcome biscuits. Seems I've spoiled the surprise, haven't I? But I do hope you're rather fond of chocolate chip! It's one of my specialties, you know." she winked.

In your opinion, if you fainted, at that moment, it would be completely valid. The little nicknames, the supposed flirting (you hoped), and that wink? It was a surprise you were still standing straight. It took you a few seconds to find your voice again. “Oh, you didn’t have to, you know? But also thanks a lot. Crookshanks and his owner both definitely know how to give a warm welcome.” That was brave. And also slightly lame, in your opinion. But it seemed to have its desired effect or so you thought, judging by the slight twinkle in Lily’s eyes. Her body language shifted. She leaned in a bit closer and hummed playfully. "Looks like I owe thanks to my mate for leaving the door ajar as he left. Annoying as bloody hell, but it seems to have finally come in handy."

You quirked a smile at that, hoping her close proximity didn’t mean she could feel the heat emanating off of your face. “Looks like you do, I guess. Anyway, I should get going. I’ve still got a shit ton of stuff to do and not enough time. I’ll see you — and Crookshanks, later though?” Judging by the way her smile seemed to soften around the edges, she definitely caught the hopeful tone at the end of your sentence. “Yes, you will. Fancy joining me for dinner tonight? I'm not exactly a master chef, but I reckon the gas ain't sorted yet at your place, love.” this time, her tone was quieter and she was looking directly into your eyes with a small smile. You shifted your weight to the other leg and looked to the floor, considering it. Was this a date? You desperately wanted it to be, but what if something went wrong? Then you would have to live next to her with that and it would be awkward as hell. Looking back up at her, you saw that she was waiting patiently for you to respond, and you decided to give it a shot. What will happen, will happen, right?

“Sure.” you replied, hoping your voice didn’t betray the conflict you had felt. “I’d love that.” She smiled brightly and clapped her hands together, leading to a small cloud of flour enveloping the both of you. At that she grinned sheepishly and whispered “Sorry.” Guess you weren’t the only nervous one, after all."I'll see you after you're done with work, love. Just give me a shout, yeah? I’ll be waitin’."

And with that, you left for your own flat, and the big mess that awaited you. You knew the nerves of the date — was it? — would power you to get through a majority of the work. A giddy smile on your face, you began with the Herculean tasks.

And if the exhaustion of the day seemed like a good excuse to sit a bit too close to each other on Lily’s couch while watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine after eating slightly overcooked pasta, who were you to object to that?

i hope you enjoyed it! leave a comment :) special thanks to @mxssingmemories for being an absolute angel 💖

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lullabyes22-blog · 7 months

Text

Snippet - Jayce Goes Sleuthing - Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO

In the wake of Vi's departure, and Viktor's defection, Jayce's life falls apart.

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

"Consider carefully. The Man of Tomorrow, Piltover's brightest mind, would look pretty dim in a prison jumpsuit."

Snippet:

Caitlyn—

I got your message this morning. I'm sorry it's taken so long to write. It's been a crazy couple of weeks. Not sure where to begin, so I guess I'll start with the most important thing:

I've resigned from the Council.

As of last week, I'm no longer a Councilor. Just a regular citizen. I know the news isn't official yet. There will be a special announcement later this week. It's pretty short-notice. I'm sure the media will have a field day.

Your Mother knows; I'm surprised she didn't tell you. Then again, the Council's been busy scrambling to find a replacement for Professor Heimerdinger. They've been hogtied in a bunch of other issues since Zaun's independence, too. There's been nothing but emergency sessions with the Zaunite Cabinet. So it's possible she didn't get a chance.

The motion for me to step down was unanimous. It's the right choice, and I'm at peace with it.

I'm sorry to hear about yours and Violet's split. It sounds like the two of you had a good thing going. She and I didn't really see eye to eye. But you seemed to care for her a lot. I had no idea there was a Peacekeeper Exchange Initiative happening—or that she'd been reassigned to Zaun. I saw no preliminary memos on the matter. If I had, maybe I could've done something to prevent it.

Then again, I've been so distracted lately. It wouldn't have surprised me if a hundred things slipped under my radar.

I understand you're concerned for her safety. Near as my old contacts in the Council can tell me, her transfer has been approved. They've already conducted the ceremonial swearing-in, and the inaugural Peacekeeper Exchange Initiative has officially begun. They've been granted interim residency until the next rotation, six months from now.

There's not much that can be done to stop it. At least, not in the legal sense. My authority to intervene has run its course. And if the Council's being tightlipped, then Silco's people are pathologically silent. The details of Violet's reassignment—where she'll stay, her duties, her work schedule—is all being kept private.

I'm sorry, Cait. You're the last person who deserves this kind of heartbreak.

You've asked me to confront Mel. To convince her to stop Vi's transfer, or pull the plug on the whole project.

Sadly, I can't do either of those things.

Mel and I are no longer together. It was a mutual decision. She's no longer my mentor, and I'm no longer her protégé. She's made her position on forging diplomatic ties with Zaun's First Chancellor clear. I've made equally clear my distaste on trying to spin blood money into gold. We're both determined to follow through, and I don't see a way of changing that.

Guess it's heartbreaks all around, huh?

Maybe it's necessary. Maybe we're supposed to hurt so we can grow. I think I've gotten a little too comfortable in my cushy Council chair. It's high time I got back to the grind. I wanted to build a better world. That means I need to put the work in at HexCorp to make it happen.

We'll get through this, Cait. You and me. Let's meet up once things have calmed down. I miss our talks. I need some sane company after weeks of listening to politicians bicker.

If there's anything I can do, please let me know.

Fondly,

Jayce

Cait—

Viktor's gone.

He's been missing since last Wednesday. The reason the Enforcers haven't been informed yet is because the Council is keeping it under wraps. But they've alerted the Wardens, and they're conducting a private investigation. Viktor's notes are gone from the lab. His apartment has been ransacked. All the Hex-tech prototypes are missing.

So is the Hexcore.

I'm worried. Not because the Hexcore could be turned into a weapon of mass destruction. Viktor's been under a great deal of strain. He's not well. I don't want him getting hurt. The fact that all his research has been taken—it makes no sense. He could've been abducted, but there's no ransom note. None of his assistants noticed any signs of foul play.

There's also been no sightings of Sky Young. Or any traces of her remains.

Cait—I don't want to add to your troubles. But I don't know who else to share this with. I trust you. I value your insight.

And the truth is, I'm a little scared.

The Wardens are suggesting Viktor's gone rogue. More than that. They're speculating that he may be linked to Sky's disappearance. Their inquisitor told me that his behavior during their last interrogation was erratic. That he'd showed signs of paranoia. That he'd withheld key details about Sky's last hours, and lied about the last time he'd seen her.

They're considering the possibility that Viktor was involved in her disappearance.

Cait—I think it's bullshit. Viktor wouldn't harm a fly. He's one of the gentlest souls I've ever known. He's dedicated his life to serving Piltover, and making it a better place. And he’s known Sky since they were children. I never saw anything but respect between them. Her disappearance hit him hard. I was with him when the preliminary investigation was being conducted.

I can tell you: he wasn't faking his grief.

Something else is going on. I don't know what.

But I'm going to find out.

In the meantime, I'm sorry I can't be of more help with tracking down Violet. I don't have any pull with the Wardens, or Silco's administration. And my contacts on the Council won't talk. Try reaching out to your mother. She's the only one I know who can reasonably intervene. At the very least, she can get her sources to conduct a quiet search.

I know it's not the solution you wanted. I know the stakes are high.

I just want you to know you're not alone.

Warm regards,

Jayce

Caitlyn—

It's late, and I know you're probably sleeping. Still, I had to write. Something happened tonight.

The Wardens found Viktor.

He's been located in Zaun. Specifically, at the headquarters of First Chancellor Silco. They're claiming he's defected. What's more, they're stating that he's in collaboration with a notorious chemist, formerly known as Colin Reveck, but currently known as "Singed." The doctor has a record for performing unethical experiments.

He's also rumored to be responsible for the creation of Shimmer.

The Wardens received clearance to access Viktor's medical records. They found traces of Shimmer in his blood samples. Apparently, Viktor's been on the drug for months. He's been hiding the side-effects. There is evidence that he's been taking massive doses. It's been compromising his mind.

And now, according to the Wardens, he's a wanted fugitive.

Sky Young's DNA has been found on his personal belongings.

I can't believe it, Cait. This isn't the man I know. Viktor would never harm Sky. Never. And with his medical condition, he'd be too weak to physically attack her. As for the Shimmer—he's always been adamant about never touching drugs. Or stimulants of any kind. One cup of caffeine was enough to get him buzzed.

He wouldn't take that poison, even in his darkest hours.

Something isn't adding up.

The Council are currently in talks with Zaun's Cabinet. They're demanding that Viktor and the Hexcore be handed over. The Wardens are pushing for extradition. Mel has been trying—unsuccessfully—to reach First Chancellor Silco. He's been unavailable since last afternoon.

This is bad.

I've got a sinking feeling. Viktor's research—the Hexcore—it's the key to unlocking a whole stratum of potential weaponry. The fact that he's now in Zaun, under Silco’s aegis, isn't a coincidence. Silco's notoriously secretive, but we know that he has an extensive network of spies and informants. If he saw a chance to use Viktor's illness against him, and profit off his genius, he'd seize it without a second thought.

That's exactly what I think is happening.

Viktor's not a criminal. And he didn't disappear of his own volition. Silco must've had a hand in it.

I'm going to figure out how.

Take care of yourself, okay? Please. I've already lost my brother. I can't lose my best friend too.

Be safe. I'll keep in touch.

Jayce

Cait—

Sorry I took off so early yesterday. There was no time. The Council had an emergency meeting with HexCorp, and I was summoned as its representative.

Things have escalated. Zaun's Cabinet has denied extradition. They claim that Viktor's entry into Zaun was perfectly legal. What's more, they state that the Hexcore, as one of Viktor's primary inventions, is his to take wherever he chooses. They even claim that the Hexcore is a prototype and, therefore, not an official piece of HexCorp's patented technology.

I'd expected the Council to push back. Instead—and I can't believe I'm writing this—they've acquiesced.

I was speechless.

The Council's position is that, as a scientist, Viktor has a right to his intellectual property. I argued that we'd both worked on the Hexcore as a team. Therefore, it was ours. They pointed to our original patent agreement, and the fine print that gives us equal, but not joint, ownership. They also reminded me that, as Viktor was from the Fissures, he was legally a foreigner under Piltover's laws.

I remember, during my tenure as a Councilor, pushing for months to get that stupid provision removed, and having my proposal shot down.

Now it's bit the entire city in the ass.

Cait—I'm ashamed to say it. But I lost my temper. In the middle of the meeting, I slammed my fist on the table and demanded to know why the hell they were backing down. Didn't we have the resources, and the right, to protect those who'd served us? Even if Viktor had exited under a cloud, didn't his deteriorating health and the danger the Hexcore posed justify both their retrieval?

Why, I wanted to know, weren't they summoning Silco here to account for his actions? Why weren't they threatening his administration with military force if he refused to cooperate? Didn't he owe us an explanation as to how our greatest innovator had come into contact with him?

It was Mel who answered. She explained that Silco's administration is a sovereign entity. We don't have the authority to demand an audience, nor the leverage to force his cooperation. We're not even legally bound to warn him. Zaun's Cabinet has the right to act independently of our influence. And, as for Silco's personal agenda, that is beyond the Council's purview. He's not obliged to share his secrets. It's his prerogative, not ours.

In other words, we don't have a leg to stand on.

I was so mad. So mad. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe them. It was the same shit I'd had to deal with when I'd first been nominated as Councilor. Except that time, it was the bureaucracy that was hamstringing me. This time, it's the people who I worked with. People who swore to protect our citizens. Who pledged to defend Piltover's principles.

And who are now acting like cowards, unwilling to do what's necessary.

I called them on it. In front of the entire assembly. I asked them where their courage had gone. Why they weren't fighting. Why they weren't even trying. Was this what Piltover was going to become? A society that allowed its greatest minds to be suborned? What the hell were they planning to do when the next inventor came under Silco's spell? Were they going to give up then, too?

The meeting ended shortly afterwards.

Mel tried to catch me in the hallway, but I was having none of it. She cornered me by the stairs. She wanted to know if I'd reconsider resigning. If we could talk.

I'll admit I was tempted. I haven't seen her since our split, and it's been hard. I miss her. It'd be nice to just hold her, even for a few minutes. To feel sane again. Safe. I know we can't rekindle things. Not with her position, and mine. But a hug, a kiss, some conversation...anything would've been good.

I turned her down.

I said we had nothing to discuss. That she'd made her position clear, and it was not one I agreed with. I asked her what the point of continuing the conversation was if we couldn't agree on the most fundamental matters. If we'd end up arguing over the same things again. I didn't have time for it. My focus had to be on Viktor. On finding a way to bring him home. And if she wasn't willing to help, then we had nothing else to talk about.

She told me I was being foolish. That I'd let my emotions blind me. That my stubbornness was going to be the death of me.

I told her I was fine with that. Because the alternative would be dying inside. That I wasn't willing to let Silco's take everything from me.

Especially not Viktor.

Cait, let's meet. Soon. We've got a lot to discuss. And I can't do this alone.

Jayce.

Cait—

This is going to be a quick one.

The Council and Zaun's Cabinet have arranged a summit. It's slated for next week. Silco is going to attend. We'll be discussing the terms for Viktor's return, and the repatriation of the Hexcore. Mel has been working to make it happen. It's the first sign of progress. It gives me hope. And it's a chance for me to confront Silco directly.

I'm not going to rest until Viktor's back where he belongs.

I'll ask Silco about Violet. I'll corner him in private, if I have to. I'm not sure how the two of them are connected. If they are, at all. But it can't hurt. And the more I can get him talking, the more opportunities I'll have to figure out what the hell is really going on. What he wants. And why.

I'll send a follow-up letter once I've got more information.

Stay strong. And, whatever happens, please don't lose faith. Piltover needs your courage. So do I.

Jayce.

Caitlyn,

I'm so sorry. I need to vent. Too much has happened.

Viktor's staying in Zaun.

So is the Hexcore.

Negotiations fell through. I don't know why. Silco showed up, and he was civil. More than that, actually. He was polite. He shook hands. He thanked the Council for reaching out, and expressed his appreciation at their willingness to compromise. He'd brought along his Deputy and a few members his Cabinet. They were well-dressed, professional. I was impressed. I was relieved. I'd come prepared to do battle, but he seemed determined to cooperate.

Then it all went to shit.

Cait, I can't explain it. But the whole thing felt... staged. Like Silco already knew how it was going to end. Like the Council had already signed off on some private deal, and were simply going through the motions. Mel opened with the usual pleasantries. She asked Silco about his health. His administration. His relationship with Zaun's citizens.

The latter question was a nod to me. A subtle signal that she was leaving the floor open for me to address him.

I did. I'd been preparing for weeks. I'd even gone over my questions with some of the other Councilors. They'd all agreed that the issue had to be addressed. If the Council was serious about building diplomatic ties, and creating a sustainable rapport with Zaun, then Silco's conduct had to be taken seriously. And he couldn't be given an inch.

He needed to be confronted.

So, as soon as the pleasantries were finished, I asked him what his plans were for the Hexcore. For the Peacekeeper Exchange Initiative. Why, if he was a man of the people, was he taking a magical relic that was potentially volatile out of our control? How was it serving his citizens, or the people who'd been entrusted to his care? How was it serving his principles?

And, most importantly, where the hell was Viktor, and what the hell was his game?

Silco smiled.

The bastard actually smiled.

Then he showed me a letter, in Viktor's handwriting, addressed to the Council. It stated that, because of his deteriorating health, he'd chosen to relocate back home. He wrote that there was only so much treatment the doctors at Piltover could provide. Eventually, he'd need more intensive care. And, as a Zaunite, he was entitled access to the physician of his choosing.

His physician was Colin Reveck.

Singed.

Apparently, if Viktor's letter was to be believed, Singed had known Viktor for years. As a chemist, he had a keen understanding of the disease affecting Viktor's lungs. And he'd been working with him on an experimental treatment. That was the reason Shimmer was in Viktor's bloodstream.

It was an integral part of the therapy. Without it, he'd have died long ago.

Silco also presented records of his conversations with Viktor, during which Viktor had confessed to feeling ostracized in Piltover. To having been made to feel bypassed, not only by the Council, but by his own peers.

By me.

Sky's disappearance had hit him hard, and the strain of maintaining his career and his health had left him emotionally depleted. He'd been forced to make a choice, and he'd chosen life.

He'd chosen Zaun.

I demanded proof. I said there was no way Viktor would write a letter like that. That there was no way he'd willingly choose to work with someone like Singed. He'd always despised putting morality aside for progress. He'd never approved of using animals as test subjects. Or people. I accused Silco of lying. Of blackmailing Viktor, or worse.

Silco showed me a photo.

I'll spare you the worse details. It was Viktor, yes. Definitely him. But the man in the picture looked nothing like my friend. He was... augmented. All over. He had metal plates across his face. There are mechanical appendages in place of his hands. There's gears, and cogs, and wires, on his torso. His throat is encased in a tube, and there is an equalizer outfitted to his chest.

Even his eyes are different. They're no longer his natural color. They're yellow and black. Like hazard lights.

And they glow.

Cait, it was like something out of a nightmare. He looked—he looked like an automaton. Like a cyborg. It wasn't a person anymore. It was a machine. Something created by a mad scientist, and brought to life by evil sorcery.

The timestamp on the photo was two weeks ago. When Viktor was first reported missing. That meant that, between then and now, Viktor had undergone a terrible transformation.

He'd become something inhuman.

Cait, I've known Viktor for years. I've known him better than anyone. But right then, I didn't recognize him. Not even a little bit. And, when I looked up at Silco, I saw him watching me. Watching the horror in my face. Smiling.

Smiling like the Devil himself.

I could've hit him. I would've hit him. Right then and there. But the Councilors intervened. Their security pulled me back. Mel tried to talk me down, but I was too furious. I couldn't believe what I'd seen. I couldn't believe he'd had the nerve to show it. To shove it in our faces. I couldn't believe the Viktor he'd shown me was real.

But it was.

The photograph's been vetted. It's the real deal. So is Viktor's signature. His handwriting hasn't changed. It's been matched to several official documents. His letter, which was accompanied by a medical report from Singed, has also been examined. And, while we've been unable to corroborate its contents, the letter itself has passed a rigorous authenticity test.

Viktor is alive.

And he's staying in Zaun. Under Silco's care.

He's been provided an apartment, a generous stipend, and a state-of-the-art lab. He's been placed in charge of an expanding Hex and chem-tech research division, and given a team of assistants. He's been granted unrestricted access to Zaun's medical facilities for his treatment, and all the resources necessary to conduct his experiments.

All of which are in collaboration with Singed.

There's nothing we can do, Cait. Absolutely nothing. Silco's got him locked in a golden cage. He's using Viktor's genius to advance his agenda, and the fact that he's been augmented is proof that he's not above forcing him into compliance.

Viktor's a casualty. And we're the ones who lost him.

It's all my fault.

They've scheduled a forty-five-minute recess. We'll take a break, then resume for the next session. After that, there'll be a dinner. And more discussions. I can't. I just can't. This is all wrong. Everything. My best friend is gone. Mel and I are no longer together. And the Council. They've failed. Failed us. Failed the city. Failed Viktor.

And something tells me it's going to get a whole lot worse.

Cait, please be patient. I still need to ask Silco about Violet. And I'll do everything I can. You have my word.

Jayce.

Cait—

The summit's over. Silco and his people have left.

And good riddance. I never want to see his rotten face again.

Cait, the whole thing was a sham. A total sham. From beginning to end. Nothing meaningful came out of the meetings. Silco didn't answer a single question. The Council wouldn't hold him to account. Instead, they started discussing the crisis as if it was a business merger. As if it was some kind of deal to be brokered, and a mutually beneficial arrangement to be made.

Silco had the gall to suggest a compromise. He said that Viktor, as a Zaunite, should be allowed to continue his research on the Hexcore. In return, the Council will be permitted to oversee his future Hextech projects. Both cities will collaborate to conduct a monthly audit via a joint Oversight Committee. They'd guarantee a set number of patents, and a share of the profits, and even provide funding for further innovations.

I argued that this was unacceptable. It would give the Council no actual leverage, and would only make them complicit in Viktor's subjugation. That they'd be signing a blank check. And that, by working with Silco, we'd be condoning his crimes.

The Council said nothing. They didn't support me. They didn't even try.

Mel agreed with Silco.

I couldn't believe it. I still can't believe it, Cait. She sided with him. With him!

She said the Council had to think long-term, and that, if we wanted peace, we needed to start acting like the world leaders we claimed to be. She pointed to the economic benefits, and the opportunities the new alliance could create. She reminded everyone that Viktor was a free man, and that he was the one who'd made the decision.

As far as she was concerned, it was his right.

I was outraged. I told her this wasn't the time for political theater or corporate speak. This was a human being's life we were talking about. And Viktor wasn't free. He was a hostage. If the Council really wanted to serve their citizens, they'd stand up to Silco. They'd demand the repatriation of the Hexcore. Then they'd demand Viktor's release.

And they'd use every means possible to get him back.

Then Silco dropped a bombshell.

He said, as thanks for the Council's cooperation in facilitating Viktor's "return" to Zaun, he'd make a gesture of goodwill. He'd draft legislation to outlaw the production of Shimmer as a narcotic, and to ban its distribution for recreational purposes. And, to prove his intentions were sincere, he'd have the new law approved by a vote, and the legislation made public. Only medicinal uses, he stressed, would remain legal.

The Council, he went on to suggest, could enact a blanket embargo on Shimmer's importation. Points of entry would be monitored, and Piltover would take steps to crack down on illegal trafficking. It would send a message to Piltover's allies, that Zaun was serious about pursuing the path of legitimacy. And that its partnership with Piltover was a symbol of that intent.

I was shocked.

So was Mel. And the rest of the Council. This wasn't what anyone had been expecting. This wasn't the Silco we'd known. He was offering to put himself in our debt. To cut ties with the illegal drug trade, and to allow the Council the opportunity to enforce sanctions against bad actors.

It was a major concession. It would effectively eliminate a key revenue stream in Silco's operation, and cripple the underworld's most valuable market.

Cait, I'll admit it.

I didn't see the trap until it was too late.

Silco doesn't need to distribute Shimmer within his city anymore. Because he's got the Hexcore. And it's capable of making breakthroughs in science and magic, beyond anything we've ever known. He's got some of the world's greatest innovators under his thumb. The only limits are their imaginations.

With the fruits of their labor—and the Council's backing—investors will flock to Zaun. Capital will pour in. The city will grow. Its economy will flourish.

No drugs needed.

I was the only one who spoke out against it. I felt like a complete jerk. But I had to state my case. I argued that the Council had to consider the risks. That we couldn't trust Silco, no matter how immaculately he dressed up his proposal. Who was to say he wouldn't take the Council's investment and put it into other ventures? What if he began funneling the investors' coin, and used it to finance bioweapons? What if he turned Zaun into an armory, right under Piltover's feet?

And, even if he did give up the drug trade, what about his human trafficking? His smuggling? The brothels, and the illegal casinos, and the underground fighting pits?

What about his ties to organized crime?

The Council dismissed my concerns.

They were eager. Eager to shake hands. Eager to sign on the dotted line. Eager to move forward.

The deal, Mel explained, would be the cornerstone of a lasting relationship between Zaun and Piltover. The Council's approval was vital. It would lend a stamp of legitimacy to Zaun's new order. And, she stated, it was the only way to avoid future conflict.

I was disgusted.

She was trying to sell the summit as a success. Like we hadn't given up a critical piece of our national defense, and put it into the hands of a foreign dictator. Like Silco hadn't blackmailed Viktor, or taken advantage of his illness, or exploited his vulnerability. Like he wasn't an abusive tyrant who ruled by fear, and murdered in cold blood.

Like he hadn't just gotten away with everything.

Cait, I can't tell you what happened. I don't have the words. I was angry. So, so angry. And disappointed. With the Council. With Mel. With myself. I couldn't stand to be there a moment longer.

So I walked out.

After the summit, I waited to catch Silco in the lobby. He was heading towards his limo. There were no security personnel. Just him and his Deputy Chancellor and a blackguard. He was smoking a cigar, and strolling like a man with all the time in the world.

I didn't say a word. I didn't hesitate. I grabbed him and pinned him against the wall.

I told him he had a choice. Either he could hand over Viktor and the Hexcore, or I'd beat the truth out of him.

The bastard smiled. He smiled at me.

Then he said, "Pet."

Someone grabbed me from behind. An arm went around my throat. A hand wrenched my elbow behind my back. I struggled, but couldn't break free. The grip was like iron. I half-turned, expecting to see Silco's Deputy. It was the blackguard.

Cait...

It was Violet.

She was in a full-on bodyguard get-up. Black suit. Black shirt. Black visor. Black boots. Her was cropped short, and she'd gained muscle. She looked lean, and hard, and strong.

Like a soldier.

She didn't say a word. She kept me in a sleeper hold, until the Deputy arrived with security. I don't know how many Councilors saw me in that position. I don't know what they must've been thinking, or what they must’ve been saying.

I was seeing stars. I was dizzy. I could barely breathe.

Then Silco said, "Drop him."

Violet obeyed.

When I came to, I was on my knees. My neck hurt. My arm hurt. My head was pounding. It was hard to focus. Then two steel-tipped boots materialized in my line of sight. I looked up, and there was Silco, staring down at me.

He was calm. Collected. Completely at ease.

"You'll have to forgive her," he said. "She's still being trained."

Cait, he knew.

He knew I'd ask him about Violet. He knew you'd placed inquiries looking for her. He knew we were concerned for her wellbeing.

So he'd had her accompany him to the summit, as a deliberate provocation.

He was taunting us both.

"I'd advise you, as a personal favor, to not try this again," he said. "If you do, you may find the outcome... less forgiving."

I told him to go fuck himself.

I think he smiled. It's hard to remember.

With a fingertip, he gestured Violet over. She came. I'll never forget that. The way she obeyed. Without hesitation. Without question. Not once did she acknowledge my presence. I still remember when I'd drop by for tea sometimes at your flat, and she'd scowl when she saw me. Or roll her eyes. Or say, "Oh, look. Pretty-Boy's here."

There was none of that. Nothing. Just total silence.

Total obedience.

Then Silco took her by the chin.

"There's a good girl," he said, and stroked her cheek.

It made my skin crawl.

I told myself it was because of Silco. Since the Siege, I'd been looking into his past, and there's enough material in the dossiers to turn your blood to icewater. I can't imagine the psychic price of serving that monster. I can't even imagine the pressure of being a blackguard at his beck-and-call.

I told myself it was the thought of Violet at his mercy, night after night. I told myself it was because she'd lost her autonomy. That she was trapped. That she was under duress.

I told myself that's why my gut was churning.

I'm sorry, Cait.

That's not the truth.

The truth is, I wasn't scared of Silco.

I was scared of Violet.

No—I was terrified.

Cait—there was a look in her eyes. I don't know how to describe it. A coldness, almost. Like she wasn't seeing me, or the Deputy, or anyone. Only Silco. She didn't flinch when he touched her. She didn't even blink. She was completely unmoved. Like a soldier on the parade ground.

Like a weapon waiting to open fire.

The limo pulled up. Silco and his Deputy got inside. I remember Vi holding the door open for them. And I remember her turning, one last time, to look at me.

There was nothing in her face. No emotion. No recognition. No regret.

Just empty.

Then she got inside, and the door swung shut. They drove off.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. Cait, it's all I can think about. How different she looks. How hard she seems. And that stare. That terrifying, horrible stare.

What the hell did Silco do to her?

Cait, I'm coming to visit. We have a lot to talk about.

Jayce

Cait—

I have news.

Big news.

After I left your flat, I went straight home. A courier had just dropped a missive off at my place.

It was from the Wardens.

Their theory on Viktor being responsible for Sky's disappearance is crumbling. Despite their suspicions that Viktor was the last man to see her, their investigation has been unable to locate a single shred of evidence.

Viktor's laboratory is clean. No fingerprints, no signs of foul play, no indication of a struggle. Even the cameras, which the Wardens have accessed using a subpoena, showed no signs of her leaving with him. Her clothes, and belongings, were still inside the building. And her bike was still parked outside.

They're still not sure how she vanished. It's like she was swallowed up by a black hole.

As for the DNA—a secondary lab test revealed it was a mistake. Just a case of cross-contamination. They'd mistaken an old sample from a previous search in Sky's apartment. The report had gotten mixed up with Viktor's case file. The mistake had been made by an intern, who'd mislabeled a sample, and the senior investigators had simply repeated the error.

All in all, it was a complete botch-up.

The evidence is circumstantial. There's nothing that implicates Viktor.

For now, they've dropped charges.

I should be thankful. I know Viktor hasn't committed any crimes, and there's no concrete evidence of his guilt. It was a stretch to accuse him of involvement in Sky's disappearance.

But now there's a nagging doubt in the back of my mind. The timing's too convenient. First the Council caves to Zaun, and lets Viktor remain as Silco's prisoner. Now the Wardens have decided, of their own accord, not to press charges.

It makes no sense.

Worse, my own mind's playing tricks on me. I keep replaying the night Sky was reported missing. How distraught Viktor was. How he could barely speak. Barely look at me. He was a wreck, and I believed his distress was sincere. I'd told the Wardens, time and again, that there was no way Viktor had done anything to harm Sky.

I'd vouched for him.

Now, though...now, I'm not so sure.

The thing is, we still don't have all the facts from that night. Sky was last seen exiting her office at eight o' clock. The cameras see her walking down the main corridor. Then, at nine thirty, her assistant goes in to check on her, and finds her gone. Her bike's still there. Her street clothes are still on the rack. All her possessions are still inside.

But no Sky.

Where the hell did she go?

The cameras don't show her exiting the building. Which means she must still be in there. Except there's no trace of her. None.

Then it hit me.

The Hex-lab—mine and Viktor's workspace—had no cameras. A security camera had been installed, but Viktor had requested it be removed. He'd said, and I quote, "We are scientists. Our work necessitates a degree of privacy." It was part of our terms with the Council, and an addendum to our patent agreement. The lab would be kept off-limits, except to those involved with the project.

Viktor, Sky, and I were the only one who had the keycard.

And Viktor was the only person in the lab that night.

Caitlyn—I'm worried. It's possible I've made a terrible mistake. I've been so fixated on finding Viktor, I haven't stopped to ask myself why. Why would Viktor disappear without a word? Why would he take all his notes, abandon his post, and go into hiding? Why wouldn't he ask me for help? Or at least leave a note?

I've been thinking—what if he doesn't want to be found?

What if something bad happened between him and Sky? Something so terrible, he had no choice but to run?

Cait, please—help me figure this out.

Your friend,

Jayce.

Cait,

I had a fight with Mel.

I'm ashamed to say it. To be honest, it's embarrassing. I've never raised my voice at her before. Or sworn at her. Or, frankly, behaved like such a prick.

Here's what happened.

After my talk with you, I went straight to her penthouse. I was in a bad place. I'd hit the bar—awful idea, I know—and then gone for a walk. It was raining. I ended up in one of the city's parks. It's near her place. I sat on a bench and tried to get my thoughts together. Everything—why Viktor could've left, why Sky might've disappeared, why the Council were so willing to negotiate with Silco—was running through my head.

I just wanted to talk. I wanted a friend. I wanted her.

Cait—you told me how hard it's been since Violet left. How much you've been hurting. Not the everyday stuff. I know about that. But it's the other things, too. Like how you don't feel like yourself anymore. Like there's something hollow in you, that only she can fill. And nights are the worst. You miss the closeness. You miss the warmth.

And, Gods help me, the sex.

That's the part I miss the most. I can't tell you how many times I've woken up at night, dreaming about Mel, and I've had to stop myself from calling her up at four o'clock in the morning.

It's hard, Cait. Being apart. It's really hard.

I know how you feel. So you'll understand perfectly why I went to see Mel. I know we broke things off. I know it was my decision. And, no, I didn't expect us to pick up where we'd left off.

I just wanted someone to talk to.

Before I knew it, I was at her penthouse. I was soaked, and cold, and drunk. It was the middle of the night. But the doorman recognized me. He let me in, and called ahead to let her know.

She was waiting for me.

I'll never forget how she looked, Cait. She was wearing a silk robe. One of my favorites: all white lace and gold brocade. Her hair was loose, and it smelled like hyacinths. You know, I've never told you this, but I used to comb Mel's hair before bed. I wasn't very good at it. Sometimes I'd end up pulling too hard. But she'd smile, each time, and show me the trick to gently working through the knots. She'd kiss my hands. Then she'd kiss me.

Then—

Well, I think you know.

Seeing her again. Seeing her so soft, and warm, and lovely. It took my breath away.

It took everything.

Cait, I'm not going to lie. We ended up in bed. She said she'd missed me. And, damn it, I'd missed her. So much.

So very, very much.

I can't say I don't love her. How can I not? She's smart, and gorgeous, and funny. She's passionate. She's fearless. And I admire her. She has a way of commanding a room, but also of making every single person feel heard. She makes me feel heard. When I talk to her, I feel like I can say anything. Do anything. Be anything.

I needed that. I needed her.

She felt the same.

It was beautiful. Intimate. Wonderful. Sure at first, we were both a little awkward, and clumsy, and I'd forgotten to shave the past few days. But, after a few minutes, we were like two people who'd never left each other. Two people who'd never been apart.

Two people in love.

When we finished, we held each other. Then she kissed my cheek, and whispered in my ear, "Jayce, darling... you're home."

And, Cait, it felt like it. Like I'd finally come home.

It's not until after I'd showered, and was heading back into the bedroom, that the doubts crept in. Those nagging little doubts. Things I'd pushed down. Things I didn't want to confront. Like how the Council and Silco seemed to be on the same page in advance. Like how they were giving him carte blanche to exploit a man's genius, and use it for their own gains.

Like how Mel, out of everyone, seemed to know exactly what Silco was thinking.

Like she was expecting it.

I slipped back into bed with Mel, and I held her. Still, the questions came in my head. They came quietly, at first. Softly. Then, as the silence between us grew, they began to gain volume. Until I was sure she could hear them too.

Then I asked her the question.

"Why didn't you fight?"

At first, she pretended not to understand. So I said it again, louder.

"Why didn't you fight, Mel? Why didn't the Council?"

She turned. She was looking at me. Searching my face.

"You had a chance," I told her. "You could've fought for Viktor. You could've fought for me. Why didn't you?"

There was a long silence.

"I didn't have a choice," she said.

"Bullshit."

"It's the truth. I didn't. Jayce—you don't understand. There's more at stake than just the Hexcore. It's a small piece of a bigger issue. That issue being—how can we maintain our peace with Zaun. You have to understand. It's not only about your friend."

"Viktor. His name is Viktor."

"Viktor, yes. But we need to think of the whole picture. It's not just him. It's our trade agreements. It's our economic stability. It's our reputation as a city. As the City of Progress."

"So it's not important, what's happening to him. Because he's not a Piltovan, he's expendable."

"That's not what I'm saying. Please. Don't twist my words."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that a single man, or his personal rights, cannot eclipse the good of a city. You've been obsessed. You've been chasing shadows, instead of addressing the real problems."

"Like the Council selling out their best innovator to a dictator."

For the first time, her eyes disconnected from mine. "He isn't a dictator."

"Isn't he? What do you call someone who murders his way to the top, and uses his power to enslave his citizens?"

"We've held discussions, Silco and I. He wants prosperity for his city. Freedom for his people. I want the same for ours. To achieve that, we must compromise on certain issues. He's no model of merciful leadership, I grant you. But he's a pragmatic man. A visionary. Someone who can bring lasting change."

"He's a monster."

"Jayce. Darling. Your anger blinds you. I know he's committed terrible crimes. And yes, we've made deals that neither of us is pleased with. But, in the end, the outcome is worth the price. Our cities will grow together. We'll create a lasting, sustainable peace."

"At the cost of my best friend'."

"Viktor chose to leave. It's his right."

"Only because he had no choice. He couldn't stay in Piltover. Not with the Wardens falsely accusing him."

"Jayce—" A shadow fell across her face. "Please. Stop. This isn't getting us anywhere. Can't you see that? If you keep on fighting, you're only going to make things worse."

"Worse for who? The Council?"

"For Viktor. And... for you."

There was something in her eyes. Something... dark. Almost desperate.

"Please, Jayce. You need to trust me. I have your best interests at heart. I've been working to protect you. You've no idea the things I've—" She cut herself off.

I asked her what she was talking about. I asked her what the hell was going on.

That's when she told me.

Cait, the Warden's investigation? Mel is the one who called it off. Not because of inconclusive evidence. Not because of the waste of resources. Not because the security camera footage was inconclusive.

She called it off, because the Wardens had irrefutable proof that Viktor had killed Sky.

It wasn't just the fact that he was the last man to see Sky alive. Or the fact that she was last seen near the corridor to the Hex-lab.

It was the fact that, in the lab itself, they found Sky.

Or rather, her bone dust.

It was everywhere. Motes of it, on the floor. On the chairs. On the workbench. Someone had tried to clean it up, but not thoroughly. Not enough to remove the residue. And the forensics team had been able to confirm, using chemical analysis, that the samples were mixed with Viktor's DNA.

His, and no one else's.

The Wardens were set to launch an arrest warrant. Then Mel had intervened.

"It would've been a disaster," she told me. "A disaster for him. A disaster for Zaun. And for us. I had no choice, Jayce. None."

I was shocked. My brain couldn't comprehend what she was saying. It was impossible. Viktor wasn't a murderer. He couldn't be. He just couldn't.

I asked her if Silco knew.

She admitted that he did. He was the one, in fact, who'd tipped the Wardens off. Apparently, a remark Viktor had made during a conversation with his Deputy Chancellor had caught Silco's attention. He'd sent a blackguard to Viktor's lab, on the pretext of collecting leftover notes. During a search, the blackguard found traces of bone dust. He collected the sample and turned it over to the Wardens.

There were no signs of tampering. The evidence was months old. And it was damning.

"I can't believe this." I whispered.

Mel put her arms around me. She held me tight.

"Jayce," she said. "I'm sorry. Silco and I—we decided that the best thing would be for Viktor to remain in Zaun. For the charges to be dropped. So long as he confines his work to the Fissures, he'll have complete freedom. But should he return to Piltover..."

She didn't finish.

She didn't need to.

Cait, the Council and Silco. They've conspired against Viktor. Against both of us. They're letting him remain in Zaun, so that he can continue his research on the Hexcore. But, should he return, he'll be arrested.

And I'll be forced to testify.

It was too much. The idea that my best friend could be a killer. The fact that Mel knew. That she'd been complicit. The betrayal, by the Council, who'd gone along with it all. The duplicity. The corruption.

It was just too much.

I couldn't stop myself. I lost control. I leapt out of bed. I shouted. I called her a liar. I asked her how she could do it. How she could let him stay, and put him in danger. How she could be so calculating. So cold.

So much like... Silco.

She didn't answer. She was crying. I've never seen Mel cry. Never.

And, Gods help me, I didn't care.

Cait, I stormed out of her flat. I left her there, in tears.

I can't go back. I can't forgive her. I can't forgive myself.

I'm writing you now from a bar. It's three o' clock in the morning. I can't go home. I can't bear to sleep. I can't stop thinking. About the summit. About Mel. About Viktor.

About the future.

Cait, please help.

I'm lost.

Jayce

Jayce—

Destroy this message the minute you read it. You're being monitored.

Your apartment is being watched.

Your office, too.

I know, because so is mine.

Silco knows you're trying to make contact with Viktor. He knows I'm trying to reach out to Vi. The only reason he's permitted you to communicate with me is to bait a trap. I've gone back and deleted every missive I've written to you. Do the same. You need to watch your back. If the Wardens find out you've been trying to make contact with a suspected killer, it's not just your career.

It's your freedom.

You're a private citizen now. They won't hesitate to arrest you. And I won't be able to stop them.

Jayce, this is serious.

You're a hero. You're the face of Hextech. You've changed the world. You can't afford to throw it away. If you get caught, it'll be catastrophic.

Please. I'm begging you. You have to stop.

We can't contact each other via missive. Not until I can figure a way out of this.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn,

Don't worry. I won't put you in danger. I've found a workaround. I've created a secure channel, which will allow us to correspond without being intercepted. I've also modified the pneumatic tubes. It will take some time, but I can rig a system, which will ensure the messages are delivered directly to your desk.

I need a favor.

Your department has access to the Warden's database. How high is your clearance? Can you get access to their records on Sky? I'd like to have a look at their files.

I'll explain when I see you.

Jayce

Jayce,

I got in.

Here are the files.

Hurry. I don't know how long the clearance will last.

Cait

Cait—

Thank you.

This is incredible. You're amazing.

I've been reading through the records. It's difficult, because a lot of stuff has been redacted. But I've managed to piece together the timeline of Sky's disappearance. It's hard to believe, but the case has been open since the day she went missing. It's bigger than the Wardens let on to the Council.

There's more here than I expected.

According to the records, the Wardens were already investigating Viktor. He'd been placed on their Watch List, under suspicion of having ties with the Undercity's chemists. It was a flimsy pretext, and he wasn't a suspect. Just a person of interest.

They were tracking his movements, to see if he had any known associates belowground.

Then Sky was killed.

By now, I know she was killed. It's hard to watch. There's security footage, from the night she went missing. It's in black-and-white, and it's grainy. You can see Sky, exiting her office, and walking down the main hall. She's still in her lab coat, with her notes under her arm. Her hair's up, but her ponytail's slipping. She's got a smile on her face, and a spring in her step.

It's strange, Cait. But I can tell, even though she's just a shadow on the screen… she's happy.

She's going to see Viktor.

I know she's going to see Viktor, because the security cameras are tracking her movements. And they show her walking down the main hallway, past my office, and into the stairwell. From there, she goes to the third floor. The cameras lose her there. There's no coverage inside the Hex-lab.

It has no cameras, remember.

But something happens six minutes later. There's a—a fluctuation, almost. In the video. The image blurs. It's like the camera's glitching.

Except it's not the camera.

Cait, I've seen that fluctuation before.

It's a Hex-field.

I can tell because, while the image distorts, the edges of the hallway remain sharp. Which means the field's expanding outward, in a dome pattern, from a central source. The source, in question, is the Hexcore.

It's been activated.

I've checked the timeline. The hex-field is only active for a few seconds. Then it's gone.

But Sky never returns.

I've been over the footage a hundred times. And the conclusion's always the same.

Sky entered the lab. She met Viktor. Then he killed her.

Why, I can't say. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was something else. The point is, her remains were never found. Only traces of her bones.

I've got to find him, Cait. I've got to talk to him.

I've got to understand what happened.

Jayce

Cait—

It's a trap.

You were right.

I did something stupid. I didn't think. I took a risk, and it's backfired.

I went into Zaun. I had no formal dispensation; no notarized travel pass; no clearance from the Council. I was, effectively, trespassing on foreign soil.

I didn't care.

I was going to find Viktor. I needed answers on what had happened. I wasn't going to let him stay down there, hiding from what he'd done. I was going to make him tell the truth. Then, maybe, we could figure out how to fix this mess.

So, in the middle of the night, I armed myself with my hammer. I went down to the harbor. I was careful to avoid the usual checkpoints you'd told me about. I headed for a small, out-of-the-way pier, where the patrols were less frequent. I'd borrowed a friend's boat. It was small, and not the fastest, but it's quiet. I managed to sneak past the harbor's first buoys.

Then, I crossed the border.

Zaun's different now.

I remember the last time I was in the Fissures to get supplies. Back before the Siege. It was rundown. It was rancid. The streets were in disrepair. The people were sullen. There was poverty and sickness, and a sense of despair.

Things have changed.

The Promenade's undergone a transformation. It's like a state-of-the-art motherboard framed in multicolored neon. They've repaired the streets, and the buildings are lit up like stars. They're clean. Pristine. Even the air smells different. Less acrid.

It's almost... pleasant.

It was late, but the shops were open. The crowds were out in full-force. They were mingling in the plazas, drinking at the bars, dancing in the squares. I passed an upscale club, and there was a line snaking all the way around the block. There were people of all classes and creeds, and they were dressed up, and celebrating.

Like it was a holiday.

I couldn't believe it. After everything that monster's done, the people of Zaun are out, and living it up, like it's the greatest carnival in the world. Like they're grateful. Grateful to have Silco in charge.

Cait, it's surreal.

It's as if, after years of fear, they're finally free. Not only free from Piltover's control—from its judgment, its oppression, its prejudice. It's like they're free in their souls. They're happy. Joyous.

But I can't shake the feeling that they're in a trance. As if, with the bright lights and poppy colors, Silco is hypnotizing them. He'd holding them in thrall, so they'll worship him, and not notice the bodies he's left in his wake.

That's how I felt, walking through the Promenade. Like I was following a parade of automatons, fueled on sensory ecstasy.

I tried talking to a few passersby, and they seemed nice. Friendly.

Some of them, too friendly.

I'm not sure how, but they knew I was a Topsider. A couple of them offered to give me directions. Others were eager to buy me drinks. A few asked if I'd like a dance.

One thing's for certain: they're much more welcoming now. Like, now that Zaun's nearabouts Piltover's equal, bygones can be bygones, and no one cares about a bit of old history.

I wasn't there to debate history, though. I was there to find Viktor.

I asked a few of the locals if they'd heard of him. It didn't seem to ring any bells, though a few said he sounded familiar. Then I mentioned he'd worked on Hex-tech, and a chorus rose up.

"Oh! The Machinist!"

That's what they call him in Zaun. They've forgotten his name. Or maybe they don't care.

What matters is that he's terraforming the urban landscape. Changing the city. Bringing the Fissures up to par. Creating a new Zaun, and building it up from ground-zero

I was shocked. He's already begun work? It's only been a few weeks.

But it's true. Apparently, Silco has put him in charge of a full-scale revitalization project. He's using the Hexcore to create new infrastructural designs. Changing the way the city is laid out, and making the Fissures over from a mud-hole into a metropolis. He has a whole team of engineers, and an entourage of blackguards. Every week, they're working on a new layer of the city.

A fresh coat of paint, if you will.

This week, they were overhauling the turbines. The next, the power grid. The one after that, the sewage system. By the time the Expo's begun, Zaun will be a chromed-up paradise.

And Silco will be lauded as its liberator.

The irony.

I was told he'd be working on the turbines this week, and to head toward the eastside. So, that's where I went.

The zone was a hive of activity. Tremors from power-drills under my feet; sparks from welding torches in the air; bodies swarming over scaffoldings. It looked like a small army had been drafted, and was working their hands to the bone. The entire sector had been cordoned off.

The turbines stood on platforms, towering over the street. They were colossal works-in-progress: rivets the size of hubcaps, steel girders dense as concrete blocks, pistons the width of my chest. They were astonishing, Cait. The scale of them was unreal. Their alloy-shelled interiors seemed to be a combination of metallurgical compounds and Fissure-seam crystals, the two meshed together into a seamless matrix with a shimmery-green tint.

There were runes, too.

Hex-runes.

They were inscribed all over the turbines. And, judging by the way the technicians were treating them, they weren't simply decorative. They were a critical component of the new design.

I'd never seen anything like it.

I couldn't help but admire Viktor's work. He'd done all this in less than a month. Except it wasn't just him. Here and there, I saw a familiar monkey motif scrawled into the blueprints, or decorating the turbine's frame.

It was Jinx's signature.

It hit me, then, like a gut punch. Viktor hadn't done this alone. Jinx was collaborating with him. Her notes were scattered throughout the designs. This wasn't a solitary operation with a spur-of-the-moment breakthrough. This was a joint venture, between two rogue agents. One that must have been in the works for months.

Or longer.

I felt a chill go down my spine.

Silco had likely planned this—this coup—from the moment of the Peace Treaty.

And there was no telling what he had planned next.

Cait, I had to stop him. I had to find Viktor.

I asked a few technicians if they'd seen him. I was directed to the south end. I didn't have a plan. All I knew was that I had to find him. Confront him. Demand an explanation.

Then I saw him.

He stood in the middle of the mayhem, directing the crew. At first glance, he seemed the same. Same height. Same build. Same accent. But that was a trick of the eye. Like my memory was a distorting medium, and my mind had supplanted an old image onto a new reality.

Because, when he turned, it was like he'd been replaced by someone else.

Someone I barely recognized.

He seemed taller, somehow. His movements were more fluid; his stiffness less pronounced. He didn't walk. He glided. The balls of his feet seemed to float a bare millimeter above the ground, as if the air itself was propelling him forward. And the way he carried himself, with such confident assurance—it was like his world had expanded, in the span of a few weeks, from a sickbed to a stage.

That's when I noticed his cane was different.

It wasn't the ergonomic model he'd designed for himself, as his mobility declined. This was a prong-tipped rod, polished black, with a barb at the base. Like a javelin. It was a definite case of function over form. No aesthetic appeal. No concession to comfort.

Just a weapon.

But, Cait, that's not what unnerved me the most.

That was Viktor himself.

Because he wasn't Viktor. He was some unnervingly close approximation dressed in patches of Viktor's skin, with steel seams running through the missing spots. His skull, torso and limbs are half-cybernetic. The right leg—the one that 'never behaved' as he'd sometimes put it—has been replaced with a mechanical prosthesis. It's got a titanium exoskeleton, and a carbon-fiber frame, and a hydraulic heel. The knee's a ball joint. The thigh's an articulated piston. It's like a work of art. The most horrifying work of art you could imagine.

But it's not just his leg.

His right hand—the one he'd taken to wearing a glove on—is now a four-fingered steel claw. It's hinged at the wrist, and the phalanges are articulated, and the palm's been fitted with a projectile port.

I know, because I watched him fire it.

It was a blackguard, one of the many onsite. The guy was being a dick. He was bullying some of the workers, and shouting at them, and generally harassing everyone within earshot.

Then Viktor walked up, and calmly ordered him to stand down.

The blackguard laughed.

Viktor didn't hesitate. He didn't say a word. He lifted a hand. The steel palm opened, and the projectile port spun, and the muzzle flared, and a blast of hot green light shot out, and blasted a hole straight through the guy's sleeve. It must have singed his skin, too, because the blackguard let out a howl.

Then he fell to his knees, groveling apologies.

Viktor, with terse instructions to the rest of the crew, turned, and left.

I couldn't believe it.

He'd shot at a man.

Without flinching. Without pausing to consider the consequences. Without even acknowledging the guy's pain.

He'd changed, Cait.

The Viktor I knew was gentle. He had a self-effacing slouch, an earnest smile, and an uncanny ability to see the best in people. He was always questioning, always second-guessing, always willing to learn.

This man was nothing like that.

This man was... hard.

As if the softness had been drained from him.

Just like Violet.

As he strode off, I was able to catch strains of conversation. Cait—his voice has changed completely. He's got an equalizer attached to his mouth, which runs on a small internal pump, and has an integrated voice modulator. It's the reason his accent's less pronounced. His tone's deeper, too. It's more authoritative. More commanding.

Less human.

The rest of his face is the same as the photograph. There are sensors on his cheeks, and his jaw is augmented with a cybernetic clamp. Then there's the eyes. The sockets are lined with a copper alloy, and the lenses are bionic. No pupils; no sclera. Just two reflective orbs with a glowing core.

Golden and black. Like looking into a pair of glowing embers.

Except they're cold.

I followed him. He wasn't going far. There was a trailer nearby, where blueprints were spread out over a makeshift table. He stepped inside. I'd expected to see Jinx. I was sure she'd be there. After all, she was collaborating with him. She'd drawn up half the diagrams, and, by the looks of things, had helped him implement them, too.

But the trailer was empty.

Viktor was alone.

Then I realized Viktor knew I was there.

"Jayce," he said, without turning around. "You are trespassing."

His voice, even through the equalizer, was the same.

Except it wasn't.

It was cold, too.

"Viktor," I said. "We need to talk."

He still didn't turn. "If the blackguards find you, they will arrest you. And, should they do so, I cannot guarantee your safety."

"I don't care."

"You should."

"I know what happened to Sky."

There was a prolonged silence punctuated by the distant sound of power tools. Then, very slowly, he turned. Our eyes met, and even though every muscle and nerve ending in my body fought it, I couldn't stop myself from flinching at the totality of his transformation.

At the eerieness of it.

"Sky," he said, at last, "is gone"

"I know. She's dead. The Wardens found her bone-dust in your lab. You killed her."

"Jayce, you don't understand."

"Then explain it to me."

"I didn't kill her. Not in the way you think."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Viktor, you were the last person to see her alive. She was last seen near the Hex-lab. There are traces of her DNA mixed in with your own. What the fuck am I supposed to think?"

He said nothing. His breathing rasped like an iron file through the air. It was a strange, grating sound. His lungs, I understood, had been augmented, too. The extent of the mechanization, in such short a time-frame, couldn't be man-made.

Then I understood.

"Magic," I said.

He didn't answer.

"That's what happened, didn't it? You were using the Hexcore's magic. Not on tools. On yourself. And you didn't want anyone to know."

Still he said nothing.

"But it went wrong, didn't it? The Hexcore did something to her. She was in the lab, and something happened, and she got hurt. Badly. So badly that you had to dispose of her. And you thought, if you were careful, no one would ever find out. That you'd get away with it."

"Jayce—"

"Is that why you left? Because you were afraid of being caught? Dammit, Viktor, answer me!"

He looked at me, and the stare was preternaturally calm. But I could feel an intense heat cooking the air around him. He didn't raise his voice, or gesticulate, or make any move against me.

He kept on staring.

"Jayce," he said at last, "before I left Piltover, I was working on a theory. One involving the Hexcore. I had discovered that, with the right runic sequence, it was possible to channel its subatomic energies into living flesh. Through an organic compound as the catalyst, and the correct sequence as a stabilizer, the Hexcore's powers would no longer be tied to its physical matrix. We'd use it to augment living things. Restore damaged muscle. Heal sick tissue. Repair a faulty organ. Even..."

"What?"

"Prolong life."

Dazed, I shook my head. "Viktor, that's impossible. That level of transfiguration—"

"Can be achieved. All that's necessary is for the Hexcore to sustain the right frequency, at the correct resonance. A harmonic pattern, if you will."

"We tried, remember? We tried, with plants and fungi. We couldn't even manage to make a weed grow. The results crumbled, or rotted, or—"

"—died. Yes." His breath shivered like a metal grate in a storm. "That is because the runic sequence is incomplete. To channel the Hexcore's power, a keystone rune is needed. Something to anchor the harmonics. Act as the focus. Without it—"

"Viktor, please. You're not making any sense—"

"I was trying to extend life, Jayce!"

For the first time, the flat dial tone of his voice shifted. I heard, subaudible but discernible, a quaver of grief.

"Extend life," he whispered. "Not take it."

It took a moment for the meaning to sink in. My breath came hot, nauseous. "You messed up. Didn't you?"

"Jayce—"

"You screwed up. Something went wrong. You did something to Sky. You killed her."

He gave a single jerky nod.

My guts turned over. The fear had been replaced with disgust. With anger. I couldn't stand to look at him. To see what he'd done.

What he'd become.

"Where's her body?" I demanded.

"It's gone."

"Gone? Gone where?"

He rubbed his jaw, the bones grinding side-to-side. It was old gesture. The one he'd make, whenever he was uncomfortable. Or guilty.

"It was consumed."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Jayce, please. You must believe me. I—I did not intend for her to die. I did not even realize she was there until after—"

"After?"

The glow in his bionic eyes dimmed. "The Hexcore, when it opened, created a feedback loop. The catalyst in my blood was to be the sensor, absorbing the concentration of the energy's signals. The runes on my body were the integrating centers, the medium through which the feedback would be channelled. But—but there was not enough of one to balance the other."

I understood. "The Shimmer. That's why it was in your bloodstream. It interacts with the Hexcore's harmonics. Instead of destabilizing the resonance, it amplifies the feedback. It's what allows you to maintain a stable connection."

"Yes."

"And the runes. They're not for stabilization. They're for augmentation. For transmutation."

"Yes."

"And Sky? Where did she fit into all this?"

A strange darkness filmed Viktor's bionic eyes. "She was not meant to be there. I should have—should have locked the door. Should have—but no, I did not think. It was too much, the moment. The chance, too great. If it had worked—" He broke off. His head drooped, slowly, as if his neck was made of wires stretched too taut. "She was there. The Hexcore's field was activated. It took her."

"Took her."

"Blindly. As a mouth takes in food. She was trying to pull me away. She was saying my name. Viktor. Viktor. She did not understand." His cybernetic fingers flexed around his cane. "I could not stop it. Could not shut down the Hexcore. The energy—it was too strong. Too much."

"You're saying the Hexcore absorbed her?"

"Her flesh. Then her bones. Then her essence. Until nothing remained." His chest vibrated, like an engine winding down. "Nothing but dust."

A cold fist gripped my heart. I thought of the security footage. The fluctuation, and the blur. It hadn't been a camera glitch.

It had been the Hexcore.

"Viktor," I breathed. "My Gods."

His head remained bowed.

"This is why, isn't it? Why you asked me to destroy the Hexcore. You knew, then. Knew how powerful it was. How dangerous. You wanted me to shut it down."

"Destroy it," he whispered. "Yes. But that was before—"

"Before, what?"

"Sky. In her notes. She'd left me a—a message. Only, it was never intended for my eyes." He unstuck his jaw with effort, as if his teeth were glued together. As if the words themselves were too heavy to shape. "Sky was working on a project. One I'd encouraged. Every week, she would show me her findings. I would provide suggestions, or offer assistance, as needed. She was a brilliant researcher, Jayce. And unlike myself... she never forgot her roots."

I swallowed. It was hard, around the knot in my throat. "What—what was her project?"

"Life." The word was soft, almost reverent. "Here, in Zaun. She'd designed blueprints for a Hex-filtration plant. Something to purify the water. Sewage removal. Runoff collection. All to make the streets where she—where we both—grew up, safer. A habitable home for the people who needed it most."

"And now... you're building it."

"Yes."

"With Silco's blood money."

He lifted his head. The contours of his expression iced over; robotic, remote. "The blood money is the Council's. Silco is only the siphon."

"What—?"

"Or do you not hold the Councilors complicit in the Undercity's degradation?"

"That's not—"

"Not the same?" Something in his bionic eyes crackled. It could've been anger, or amusement, or a thousand other emotions, and I wouldn't have known the difference. "Tell me, Jayce. Why are you here?"

I was taken aback. "Because—because I needed to know the truth."

"You know the truth." The last humanity dissolved out of his voice, leaving a mechanical buzz. "You wanted to hold me accountable."

"If you'd killed Sky—"

"You've killed too, Jayce."

A stone lodged in my chest. It was cold. It was hard.

It was the truth.

Cait—only you, Violet and Mel know what I did. That night, at Silco's Shimmer factory. The boy caught in the crossfire. The boy who'd died because of my recklessness. I've lived with the memory of his face ever since. It's haunted me. Night and day. No matter how much I've tried to justify it. No matter how many good deeds I've done.

The fact is, I took a life.

And Viktor knew.

For so long, I'd kept it from him, out of shame but also fear. The fear of him judging me, as no different from the other Topsiders. The same ones who'd mistreated him as a boy; who'd buried his city under their refuse and left the people to rot. I was afraid, Cait, of him hating me. Of him realizing how little I deserved his friendship.

And now he did.

Silco, I thought, icy splinters of rage in my gut. He knew too.

He knew—and he'd used the knowledge to turn Viktor against me.

"Viktor," I began.

"Jayce." His voice was dead as the grave. "Do not."

"Look, please, I—"

"You should not have come. Your presence will be construed as hostile. There will be consequences."

"Then let's leave. Come back with me. I can protect you. The Council, they'll—"

"Forgive me?" His lips approximated a smile. "No. That, I think, will not happen."

"You can't stay here. Not under Silco's thumb. He's using you, Viktor. Using the Hexcore. You can't trust him. Can't you see?"

"I can. You cannot."

"Viktor—"

"I cannot return to Piltover, Jayce. My mistakes have made it impossible. I understand that." The mechanical ruthlessness returned to his voice. "You, in turn, must understand. I will not return, because of your own."

My entire axis tilted. I couldn't believe my ears. I was reeling.

"You—you don't mean that."

"I do."

"You'd really choose Silco, over Piltover?"

"I choose neither."

"But—HexCorp. Our research. Me. Us."

"I am sorry, Jayce."

And for the barest moment, the briefest heartbeat, his bionic eyes seemed wetly sheened. As if he was still human.

Then it was gone.

His cane tapped, twice.

A heartbeat later, blackguards melted from the darkest corners.

I counted four. They'd been posted all around. In the shadows.

Waiting for him to give the signal.

I knew, then, that I'd been set up.

Silco had goaded me into coming. He'd known I'd confront Viktor, and Viktor would reveal what had happened to Sky. Then the blackguards would appear, and there'd be arrest warrants. Public censure. Tarnished reputations.

All the while, Viktor would remain in Zaun, free to pursue his work.

I'd played right into his hands.

"Viktor," I said. "Please. Don't do this."

"Goodbye, Jayce." He turned. "You must not return."

"Viktor—"

"Take him."

Cait, I barely had time to react. The blackguards closed in, and my hammer was out, and the energy pulsed, and I managed to get off a shot, and send two of the men flying back, until—

A blow to the back of my skull.

The ground rose up, and slammed into my face.

The world went dark.

When I woke, I was in a holding cell. A dank, cramped space, with a barred door and a cot, and a bucket in the corner. My head throbbed. My hammer had been confiscated. My wrists were chafed from old shackles.

But, other than that, I was unharmed.

I wasn't sure how long I was kept there. Time passed strangely, in a fog of disorientation. It felt like days, but couldn't have been more than a few hours. Finally, a guard appeared. He escorted me out. We took a lift down to an underground garage, where a limousine was waiting. He shoved me in, and I braced myself for the worst.

Maybe Silco would have me strangled. Maybe they'd put a bullet through my skull. Maybe they'd dump me in the river.

I had a dozen scenarios running through my head. None of them ended well.

None of them came close to reality.

Mel was sitting inside.

Silco had informed her, via a confidential courier, of my entry into Zaun. That I'd gone across the border, unsupervised, armed, with no clearance. That I'd trespassed, and threatened Viktor. And that, in doing so, I'd violated the terms of the Peace Treaty.

Politically, it could've been catastrophic. Months of negotiations—the careful cultivation of trust, the fragile bonds of diplomacy—all put at risk. If Silco had decided to press charges, to use the incident as leverage against Piltover, or retaliation for a perceived slight, the Council would've been hard-pressed to respond.

But he hadn't.

Mel told me, afterward, that the crisis had been resolved behind closed doors. She'd taken the ferry to Zaun, requested a private meeting, and met with Silco in his office. There, after some back-and-forth, she had convinced him to drop the charges. In exchange, the Wardens had agreed to a temporary suspension of my duties at HexCorp. It was, in effect, a forced sabbatical. One I was to spend, for three months, under house-arrest.

During that time, I was forbidden from entering Zaun.

Mel told me all this later. In that moment, sitting beside her in the car, I couldn't bring myself to speak. I was too ashamed—too overwhelmed—to say a word.

We rode in silence.

Cait—I've been such an idiot.

I've gambled high, and I've lost. And because of that, Piltover had nearly lost, too. I'd put myself before my city. Before the safety, the security, the future of our people. I thought of how I'd exploded at Mel, that night in her flat. How I'd left her there, in tears. How I'd jeopardized everything she'd worked so hard to achieve. Everything I'd fought so hard to create.

All because of my own blind, selfish, outsized ego.

All because I thought I could swoop in and save the day.

Gods, what an ass I've been.

Throughout the ride, I kept looking sidelong at Mel. She sat, straight-backed, her hands in her lap, her eyes cast forward. Her dress was pristine, her hair was coiffed, her makeup was impeccable. To the untrained eye, she looked flawless.

I knew her better.

I saw the way her hands were a white-knuckled twist. I saw the subtle quiver of her lower lip. I saw the lavender shadows under her eyes.

The guilt was suffocating.

She'd saved me. She's always saved me. And how have I repaid her? With scorn. With mistrust. With disrespect.

I wanted to fall at her feet. Beg her forgiveness. Tell her how sorry I was, and how stupid I'd been, and how wrong.

I didn't.

Instead, I sat there. Staring at my shoes.

We pulled into her driveway.

"Jayce," she said. "Go. Rest in the guestroom. I'll have the maids send up some tea."

Her tone was polite, but distant. Reserved.

I nodded. "Thanks."

"Jayce?"

I paused, halfway out of the car. "Yes?"

She turned, at last, and met my stare. Her eyes were dark, and sad, and tired.

"I'm glad you're safe," she said simply.

Cait, I couldn't say a word. I could barely breathe. I hesitated for just a second, then pulled her across and into my arms. She embraced me, and as soon as I felt her warmth, smelled her perfume, I couldn't stop myself. The past few weeks—Viktor's departure, the truth of Sky's death, the realization that I'd nearly ruined everything—everything came rushing back.

I broke down.

I was crying, Cait. Crying in her arms. Like a child. She held me. She didn't say anything. Just held me.

I don't deserve her.

I truly don't. But having her close, and knowing she cared, was a lifeline. Since the Siege, it's like I've lost a tiny bit of my reality. My grasp on the world. Every day, it's been a little harder. Then Viktor left, and Sky died, and the pieces of my world started falling apart.

Mel is the one of the few pieces still anchoring me.

I wanted to tell her this, Cait. I wanted to tell her, how much she means to me, and how sorry I was, and how grateful. I wanted to tell her, over and over, that I didn't deserve her, and how, despite it all, I was never going to leave her side.

I didn't, though.

I kissed her.

It wasn't planned. It just... happened. I kissed her. She was still in my arms. We were still in the car. I was still crying.

Then I was kissing her.

She let me, for a little bit. Then she broke, gently, and turned her head. Putting a palm on my chest, she nudged me back.

"No, Jayce."

"Mel..."

"You need to rest. We'll talk, later."

"Mel, I..."

"Later," she said softly.

It wasn't a request.

And so, I let her go. I walked into the penthouse, and was escorted upstairs. But, Cait—it was the loneliest walk of my life. Because I realized why, when I'd kissed her, she'd withdrawn.

Not because it was the wrong time.

Not because I was in shock.

Not because she was mad.

Cait, she's seeing someone else. I can't say how I know. Just that I can sense it. And, the worst part is, I can't blame her. After the way I've treated her—blowing hot, then cold; pushing her away, then pulling her close; accusing her of things she'd never do, then expecting her to help me when the shit hits the fan—it's no surprise she's moved on.

And how can I expect this gorgeous, sophisticated, brilliant woman, with her head screwed on straight, and her heart in the right place, and the courage to speak truth into power, to stick around?

Especially when I'm acting like a spoiled, sulky, immature, selfish asshole.

She's better off.

But not me.

I've fucked up, Cait. I've hurt people. I've hurt my friends. I've endangered Piltover. All because I've been too caught up in myself. Because I've let my pride run wild.

Because, at the end of the day, maybe I'm still just a boy meddling with things I don't understand.

I think it's time that boy grew up.

It's time he made the world a better place.

P.S.

This will be my last correspondence for a little while. I'll be going upcity to my mother's place. I've got a few projects in mind, and if I'm going to be under house-arrest, might as well put my time to good use.

Before I go, though, I want to thank you.

For your support. Your honesty. Your friendship.

For everything.

Cait, you're the best.

Your friend, always,

Jayce

To Jayce Talis, Esq.

Sir,

You will oblige me to ask the following: Are you out of your fucking mind?

First, you attack the First Chancellor in plain view of half the Council. Then, you decide it would be a good idea to traipse across the border, unescorted and armed with Hex-tech, without a notarized travel pass. Then, not satisfied with having broken one law, you have the gall to threaten one of our citizens—our brightest minds—with abduction and bodily harm. Then you injure two blackguards, and thereby put yourself, and the integrity of the Peace Treaty, at risk.

Now, you have the balls to write to me—demanding an audience with the First Chancellor, once your house-arrest has expired.

Your arrogance knows no bounds.

Read carefully, sir. Because I will only say this once:

No.

No, you will not have an audience with the First Chancellor. No, we will not divulge the address of the Machinist, Viktor. No, we will not disclose blackguard Violet's current location. And no, you will not be given leave to enter the Fissures, unsupervised and with your hammer.

That is final.

Your last letter, demanding a 'sit-down' (you have, evidently, been reading too many tabloids) is not only a grave presumption. It is also a threat against the integrity of this office. Your future letters, from here on out, will be marked as "Return to Sender." The prior ones, we've already compiled and forwarded to the Council, who have assured us will investigate.

I trust they will take the proper disciplinary actions.

Janna knows, you deserve a slap on the rear. A hard one.

Given your tenure as a former Councilor, we are prepared to show a degree of leniency. You are a prominent figure in the public eye. We recognize the emotional impact of your mentor, Dr. Heimerdinger's, passing. We also know that you have suffered the loss of Viktor's partnership, and are under intense strain in your private life.

In light of these facts, the First Chancellor has agreed to overlook your invective. We will not press charges, and will not seek punitive action, so long as you cease any and all communication with the First Chancellor. You are also instructed to desist any further inquiries into the whereabouts of the Hexcore.

If you continue to persist in your obstinate line of inquiry, the First Chancellor will no longer be inclined to clemency. You will find yourself facing multiple felony charges, which may carry a term of imprisonment.

Consider carefully.

The Man of Tomorrow, Piltover's brightest mind, would look pretty dim in a prison jumpsuit.

Kindly refrain from further correspondence. Unless it’s in the form of an apology. A similar letter of warning has been forwarded to Enforcer Caitlyn Kiramman. In light of your close personal relationship, we request you relay the message next time you meet.

Regards,

Sevika M.

P.S.

The First Chancellor has also requested we share the following message:

"The boy's letters are charmingly feisty. The girl's, surpassingly eloquent. I am delighted to know that two such exceptional individuals are among our neighbors. My only regret is that they spend more time throwing rocks, and less time building bridges."

"When their aim improves, they will be welcome to visit. Until then, they are advised to keep their distance."

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