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sirowsky · 20 days

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The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 20 - But You Were Never Normal

Description: After receiving some extremely unexpected news, you were suddenly forced to confront certain things from your past.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 3859 (2263 words added) Masterlist (this story)

Over the next two days, your mood consistently got progressively worse. As your strength returned, you were allowed to move around freely, but you weren’t allowed to leave the med-chamber until you’d completed a full assessment of your abilities. And because of how quickly your powers drained you, the Science Department wouldn’t agree to do that until they’d come up with an acceptable alternative to regular foods.

Which meant that people were constantly running in and out with pieces of experimental nutritional little cubes they wanted you to try, not to check if they were actually edible, just whether or not they had the intended effect. Flavour and texture would be added later, so it was basically like chewing cardboard. On top of that, you were still struggling with the fact that you were lying to Marcus, getting more and more anxious for some answers so you could go ahead and tell him everything.

And to make matters worse, Missy was allowed to visit you as much as she wanted but your partner was kept on a strict once-a-day regimen, and only with staff present, courtesy of your continued inability to keep your hands off each other. It felt a bit excessive, but you’d accepted that things needed to be like this for the time being, since the two of you weren’t exactly harmless together.

Over the weekend he’d opted to just bring Missy during his “visitation”, where the three of you had hung out for a few hours, and it was the only thing keeping you from going stir crazy with the isolation. Your doctor was much more lenient about him being there while Missy was present, and especially since Amaire took turns watching you, so you were never alone. But being confined to one room and not getting to chose when you wanted company, or from who, was starting to feel a lot like a prison.

But on Monday, Marcus showed up without his daughter, and the moment he walked through the doors, you could tell he wanted to talk about something important, or unpleasant. There was a hard set to his jaw and a slight hesitation in his stride. And since you were already in a mood, after having about a dozen cardboard cubes shoved down your throat before dinner, none of which had produced the desired results, you weren’t looking forward to any serious talks.

“What is it?” you snapped before he’d had a chance to say anything, and your tone was unfriendly enough that it made him stop and tilt his head to the side, with a mildly shocked huff.

“Well, hello. How are you today? I’m fine, thank you for asking,” he shot back with a hefty dose of sarcasm, and although there was a laugh brewing somewhere in the back of his throat, it did nothing to lift your spirits.

“I’m so not in the mood, babe,” you cautioned, sharply enough that he knew not to try and push any buttons. “Just tell me.”

But he didn’t start talking right away. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest and took a little stroll through the room. You’d been pacing when he first walked in, but stopped to find out what he wanted, and now he was the one who didn’t seem to be able to stay still.

“Um… I got an e-mail last night, from an address I didn’t know, and they were asking about you. So, I looked into it, wanting to make sure it wasn’t anything potentially dangerous,” he finally started, while coming to a stop next to the bed, on the opposite side to where you were standing.

“Okay…” you said after he’d paused for a little too long, hoping to spur him into explaining further, but he still hesitated.

It was extremely rare for this man to ever be fidgety, so seeing him like this, constantly looking for something to busy his hands with, whether it be your sheets or one of the machines attached to the bed, made you seriously nervous.

“Well, it turns out… the e-mail is from your brother. Daniel.”

You flinched so hard that it offset your balance and made you take a step back. Of all the people you’d heard say that name, a part of you had hoped to never have to hear it from Marcus’ lips. A part of you had hoped he’d be kept safe from that darkness forever.

“Fuck,” you breathed, abruptly more nervous than your partner.

You started pacing again, unknowingly wringing your hands and running your fingers over the scars which were no longer there on your abdomen. It had been a bad day from the start, but this was somehow the worst thing that could possibly have happened, turning it from bad to horrendous in one sentence.

“Hermosa?” he tried, hoping to get your attention, but your mind was already a thousand miles away, swirling back towards memories you wanted anything but to revisit.

Danny had no right to ask you for anything, ever. It didn’t matter why he’d reached out, or how he’d even known he could find you through Marcus, you weren’t going to listen to anything he had to say.

“He wanted to kno-…”

“Shut up!” you almost screamed at your partner, who jumped involuntarily at the unexpected panic in your voice. “Sorry… I’m so sorry, I just… I don’t wanna know. Don’t tell me.”

Turning away from him, you continued pacing, faster and faster, from one wall to the next, trying desperately to keep the flood of images out of your head.

“What the hell did he do to you?” Marcus wondered quietly but with emphasis, unaware that the question sparked a giant surge of memories, not one of which would allow itself to be bottled back up.

You closed your eyes against them, but once they started, they kept coming. They always did. Except this time, there were new parts of you reacting to what you were experiencing, and those reactions stood in direct proportion to the severity of the memories. The last time you’d fallen into this pit of despair it had made you curl into a foetal position on your boyfriend’s lap. Now, it flooded the room with your shield, hopelessly trying to protect yourself against the past.

It was so powerful it sent the bed careening into the opposite wall, forcing Marcus to quickly jump on top of it to avoid being crushed by it. One of the twins was in the room, as always, and she had to duck and take cover under the desk when equipment came flying at her, hard enough to shatter against the walls, or leave big dents in them.

“Okay, honey, I think you need to take a breath now,” she hurriedly suggested, but you barely even heard her.

You were trapped by the reality of what had happened to you, and there was no way out. You’d always had to go through the flood to free yourself of it. Trying to avoid it had never worked. Marcus scrambled off the bed the moment it came to a stop, so he was already on his way to you when Amaire spoke. Once he reached you, he took your face in his hands and kissed you, softly and lovingly enough that it managed to break through the surge and let you come back to him.

“Sweetheart are you with me?” he asked, and he sounded so scared for you.

“Yeah, I’m here…” you managed in between strained breaths, shaking like a leaf while he repositioned his hands to your upper arms, making sure you met his eyes so he could see that you really were back in the room before he pulled you into a hug.

But he couldn’t see or feel how much of your shield was still floating around you, filling the room with its strange density, and reminding you that you were still guarding yourself, which meant you didn’t feel safe yet.

“Please, talk to me,” he begged, and he was in tears now, you could hear it in his voice. “Whatever this is, it has so much control over you… It’s never gonna let you go until you talk about it.”

“I have talked about it. Just not to you,” you returned, verging on tears now yourself. “Not you. I don’t want this to touch you.”

“But it already is. It hurts you, and therefore it hurts me. You know that,” he persisted, and you knew he was right, but it still felt wrong to put something so awful in his head.

“Fuck. I hate this…” you cried, so ambiguous about the whole thing, it was making your head hurt.

Of all the bad days you’d had in the past six months, this one was turning out to be one of the worst, just from the sheer weight of the past. It almost felt like a living thing, doing its damnedest to crush you and everyone you loved, for no other reason than that it could.

“Let me tell you what the e-mail said,” Marcus kept going, apparently determined not to let this go, “and then you can decide if you wanna elaborate.”

You thought about it for a minute. There were any number of reasons why Danny would try and contact you, but not one of them would be of any benefit to you. Such a thing simply wasn’t possible. The main reasons you imagined were either him asking for your forgiveness, or more likely, needing money, neither of which you had any interest in giving him.

“Fine,” you eventually agreed, not because you wanted to know, but because it dawned on you as you stood there in your partner’s arms, that he was the one who was being hurt worst by all this, and you couldn’t let that continue.

He pulled back just enough that he could look at you, and he looked so pained it made you wish your family had never existed, just to spare him all this shit.

“He wanted me to deliver a message to you… from your mother,” he started, and the sudden hatred which flooded your blood was so strong it made you jerk out of his arms and step back, so you wouldn’t accidentally harm him. “She, uh… is hospitalized and dying, and she wants to see you.”

You froze. For what felt like minutes your body wouldn’t move with the shock you experienced in that moment. But inside, you were boiling.

“Those sons of bitches… Those motherfucking sons of bitches!” you all but screamed, well and truly done with all of it.

If your brother was a sore spot on your mind, your mother might as well have been a tumour in your brain. In your thirty odd years of life, you’d gone through phases of desperately wanting to love her, pitying her, truly hating her, and finally just not able to care anymore. She was the fucking devil, as far as you were concerned, and she had long since lost the right to call herself your family.

The fact that she would even attempt to reconnect with you after everything she’d done sparked a fury within your heart the likes of which you’d never known. But it was a dark and horrible rage, bringing out the very worst parts of you, so when the floor, ceiling and walls all buckled as your power crammed even more energy into the room, you didn’t even realize that if you kept going, you could end up killing the people in there with you.

All you could see, all you could hear were the memories, burning through you like a wildfire being whipped by a gale force wind. And all you wanted was to let it all burn. Until Marcus’ hands fell heavy onto your shoulders, reminding you of where you were and what was actually happening. But your power didn’t deactivate, because suddenly you needed him to know.

You’d tried to protect him from this for as long as you’d known him, but now, for the first time, it dawned on you how wrong you’d been. You should’ve told him from the start, not due to any difference it would’ve made to the power the memories had over you, but simply because it was these moments, these horrible moments, which had built you. And despite all the pain and fear, they hadn’t managed to blacken your heart or turn you cold or uncaring.

These memories were the ultimate testament to your character, and the man who loved you deserved to know them.

You weren’t sure how, but experimenting with and manipulating the unknown energy you had access to, you managed to bring colour and texture into the unseen atmosphere of the room. As if merely a thin veil sat between your power and the air around you. And like a stroke of magic, the images inside your eyes were suddenly playing out before all eyes present, as though there were a dozen little movie screens in there.

Marcus let go of you, turning in circles as he tried to understand what he was seeing, as well as keep up with the story as your memories weren’t appearing in a linear order. Each one played on repeat on its own little screen, but once he’d seen them all, the story came together by itself. Amaire was still huddled underneath the desk, but you could hear her reactions as she too managed to work out your story.

--The happiness you’d had in your life while your father had been alive. The wisdom, joy and sense of adventure he’d poured into your soul--

--The moment you’d found out he’d died--

--The day you’d buried him and said goodbye to happiness--

--Your mother’s abuse, starting the day of the funeral and only getting worse as the years passed, blaming both of you for her inability to find a new man because you’d ruined her perfect body--

--Trying so hard to protect the two-year younger Danny, antagonizing her so she’d focus on you and let him slip away while you took the beatings and the degradation--

--Remaining loyal to the family when teachers questioned your wounds and bruises. Lying and evading their prodding because you knew she’d only get worse if she felt threatened--

--Trying to keep Danny away from the bad kids he started hanging around. The drugs and the guns and the violence, drawing him in with the promise of one day being able to exact revenge--

--Protecting your mother from Danny once he’d tipped over the edge of what he could take, only to have her turn around and abandon you--

--Trying to protect yourself from Danny when he started using you as a surrogate for your mother--

--Calling the cops on him after he almost choked you to death, only to have him scream the same vile and horrible things at you as she had, even as they dragged him away--

--Crawling over the kitchen floor, reaching the house phone and managing to call an ambulance just before you lost consciousness, after he’d stabbed you eight times in the chest and abdomen and left you for dead--

--Defending yourself when he’d tried again, and then calling an ambulance for him--

--Going to see him at the hospital, saying goodbye and then leaving town, walking away from that life for good--

The images faded away as your strength failed, and just before your legs gave out, Marcus reached you, but sort of fell with you, landing you both in a pile on the floor in the middle of the room. You were so tired, but you stubbornly stayed awake for him, because you could see a sorrow in his eyes you couldn’t compare to anything you’d ever seen before. He seemed to be holding on to you as much as he was trying to just hold you, while he cried as hard with you as he did for you.

Over his shoulder, you could see Amaire sitting on the floor, holding onto one of the legs of the desk, as if she’d needed to ground herself while watching the memories. She was a mother, and your friend, so seeing something like this must’ve rocked her to her core, as it would any decent person. You knew her and her sister well enough to know that theirs had been a loving, safe home, so she could only imagine the pain and fear you’d lived with. But she was also incredibly empathetic, so that imagination could take her quite far.

All that aside, she was a professional caregiver. She’d seen and experienced a lot, and therefor knew how to compartmentalize when she was on the clock. So, after a few minutes, when people appeared on the other side of the buckled and broken doors, she got up, wiped the tears away and went back to work. There was noise and shouting as they worked to get through, but eventually Crushing Low was called in to simply rip the doors down, since they were beyond all hope of salvaging.

Still, even after they’d gained access to the room again, no one approached you or Marcus, not even any doctors. You suspected you’d have to thank Amaire for that later, since no one else could’ve convinced both the Medical and Science departments to leave their newest project alone after such a significant event.

There was no telling how much time had passed when the tears finally started ebbing out and you and Marcus began to let go of one another, finding the room around you empty. It felt like a long time, though, and you were only more drained as a result. But while you had started feeling better almost immediately after the flood of images had ended, your partner was the one who’d needed time to process, and you’d felt very strongly that you couldn’t have asked him to put his feelings on hold simply because you were tired.

“I get it. I understand why you didn’t want me to know,” he finally croaked, with a voice made hoarse and raspy after so many tears.

“Nothing good comes from it. All it’s ever done is taint the way people look at me, with pity or sorrow, making me feel like some broken trinket,” you admitted, and he immediately objected, just like you knew he would.

“No, you’re not broken. If anything, this proves you’re practically unbreakable…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, because I realize now that I always knew you’d see it that way. I knew you wouldn’t treat me any different, I just… needed to believe it before I could take the risk.”

“It’s okay, I understand,” he reassured you, putting a warm hand on your cheek for a moment.

“I left it behind,” you continued, needing him to hear everything you’d wanted to tell him from the very beginning. “I know it doesn’t seem like it because of how I react to the memories, but I did. Especially after Prince. Because his so-called treatments healed all my scars from those days, helping me to let go of them. Falling in love with you is what brought these strong reactions to the memories back, but only because of how different I am with you. Because where I used walls and shields to keep everyone out before, you make me want to share everything with you, and that’s really fucking scary at first.”

“Of course… I can only imagine. You’re so brave to let me come so close to the things that scare you the most.”

“I’m sorry that I needed you to see it, I know those images will never leave you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I can take it. So long as I know you’re still with me, there’s nothing you can do to me that I can’t recover from,” he smiled softly, but then something worrisome stole the comforting warmth from his eyes. “I see now why my actions after the prison hurt you so badly. I left you alone with all that pain and fear… just like she did.”

“Yeah. But if I’d told you about it sooner, you might’ve acted differently, so let’s not get caught up in blame. You’ve earned my trust back, and my love was never in question. We made mistakes and we’ve learned from them, all we can do now is move on, right?” you posed, and it brought his smile back.

“Thank you, Hermosa.”

You leaned your forehead against his and just sat there for a minute in comfortable silence, absorbing the new understanding you had for each other now. Until he decided you couldn’t put off the reality of what had brought you to this point, anymore.

“So, I guess the only thing we have left to sort out, is the e-mail,” he sighed, and you mirrored him.

“Last I knew, he wasn’t any closer to her than I was, so I don’t know why he’d even care if she really is dying. He was only fifteen when she bailed. Although I suppose it’s possible that the hospital reached out to him. I changed my name and scrubbed all records of my relation to them, but he never did, so they might’ve been able to track him down. But why he’d agree to do anything on her behalf, I can’t even guess at.”

You shook your head with equal parts confusion and fatigue, truly starting to feel the drain on your energy reserves now.

“Maybe in his own way, he’s still looking for her approval,” Marcus suggested, and while it did sound plausible considering the person you were talking about, the places your thoughts went with that idea told you it was time to leave this subject, and not let your screwed-up family steal any more of your energy.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested in meeting either of them. I don’t owe them a god damned thing,” you firmly stated, meaning every word.

“Good,” your partner approved with a little smile. “Then I think we should get some food into you before you pass out, mama bear.”

“Hey, she hasn’t even growled yet,” you played along, because it was nice to return to some light-hearted banter after so much heaviness.

“I know, but she will,” he hummed with amusement while getting up from the floor and then pulling you to your feet.

Which was good, since your legs were so weak they barely held your weight. And just when you started heading for the broken door, as if on cue, your stomach growled, much to Marcus’ delight.

“Don’t say it,” you cautioned, although without any actual warning in your voice.

He apparently decided you’d been through enough for one day, and just smiled wider before he kissed you. The kind of kiss which wasn’t long or passionate, but still told you that he’d be there tomorrow, and next week, and next year. No matter how much weird shit or painful drama you threw at him.

#marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno x female reader #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes fic #we can be heroes au #au fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #sirowsky stories #superhero stories

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maslimanny · 2 months

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Palestinian artist Arouba Omir..

Orobah Amair..!

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sirowsky-stories · 4 months

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The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 17 - The Inventor

Description: When a mission goes awry and none of the Heroics return, the organization chooses to keep you out of the loop, which due to your recent trauma, leads you to make a rash decision.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 7012 (3969 words added) Masterlist (this story)

Things had been good for a few weeks after that assorted, but lovable, mess of a day. You’d managed to find a solid and balanced routine of work, family time and you-time, and it felt like your life was finally on a positive track. You and Marcus had been able to work through and largely rebuild your broken trust, to the point where you’d even begun thinking about putting your own house up for sale. Although you hadn’t mentioned it to him yet.

You’d reconnected with your former nurses, Amanda and Claire, building a real friendship with them, and the three of you now regularly hung out, doing “female” things. Like getting a manicure or a wax, shopping or just sitting at a café and gossiping. They’d even invited you and the Moreno’s to dinner with their families, and you’d had the best time, watching your partner play with the kids, amazing them with little magnetic tricks which had had them bouncing with excitement.

Missy had long since outgrown his sorcery, but she’d been happy to play along for the enjoyment of the much younger children of the Amaire households. To them, seeing her father make things levitate, or bend in ways they shouldn’t be able to bend, meant he had to be a magic wizard, and it had made you laugh so much, thinking of him in a Gandalf-type outfit with a beard and a staff. When they got older, they’d realize that it had worked because all the things he’d manipulated had been made of metal, and the magic would disappear. But for that evening at least, he was a wizard.

The time you managed to carve out for yourself mostly consisted of exercise, and primarily running. And damned, how you’d missed it. It still felt the same. You still got that slightly euphoric feeling of being able to move freely, every time you put on your running shoes and set off down the street, and it still made you feel so grateful to be alive at all.

So, naturally, something had to go wrong. You couldn’t just be allowed to continue being happy and sailing smoothly across the ocean of existence. That was apparently too easy.

It all started with Marcus popping into your office one afternoon, to let you know he was going on a mission. He hadn’t been out there in a while, and every time he went, he felt guilty about leaving and wanted to explain himself. And perhaps get approval from his ladies before he was okay with going. He and Missy did have an understanding, which was that he wouldn’t go unless he really felt like he had to. But even though this was one of those times, it still made him feel like he was betraying her.

“I’ve called her a couple times, but she hasn’t answered or gotten back to me, so I guess she’s in class. Will you let her know for me?” he asked, and he sounded genuinely nervous about taking off without clearing it with her first.

Which made you nervous. Because anytime he got uneasy like this, it generally meant he knew he was going into something dangerous. He’d come to the side of your desk and was leaning his palms against it while he spoke to you, so you got up and went to put your arms around his waist, and he mirrored you.

“Of course. Will you keep safe for us?” you asked in return, rather than add to his concerns by questioning the wisdom of whatever he was doing.

Because again, if he was leaving, it was necessary. But you also knew Missy might not see it that way.

“You know I’ll do my best,” he replied, and there was a soft confidence to his voice then, which put you at ease.

Tugging you closer, he kissed you deeply, lingering on your lips even after the kiss ended.

“I already miss you,” he murmured, before kissing you again, just as deeply.

“Then get going so you can get that fine ass back here already,” you playfully shot back, wanting him to leave with a smile on his face, and not just because he was worried.

You knew that somewhere in the back of his mind, he was also terrified that you’d feel like he was abandoning you again, leaving so soon after your relationship had begun to heal. But this was different. It didn’t feel like he was leaving you, it was his job to help his team. And you’d feel awful if he stayed behind and then had to live with the guilt of not going, if something unthinkable happened to them.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded, and there was indeed a warm smile in his eyes as he turned and walked away, looking back over his shoulder once before he was out of sight.

But he didn’t get back. Not the first day, nor the second. The mission was top secret, and since you weren’t part of the Operations department, you weren’t involved in the missions at all, and no matter how many different people you asked, no one would tell you what was going on, or why they weren’t back yet. Anita might’ve known, but if she did, she chose to keep it to herself, probably to shield her granddaughter from whatever bad shit had happened.

All anyone would say on the matter was merely that they knew the team were alive. That was it. And by the fourth day you’d lost your patience with the entire Heroics organization. You’d kept up appearances for Missy’s sake, but when you dropped her off at school that morning, she knew something was going on with you, and she didn’t need to guess the reason.

“He’s in trouble, isn’t he?” she asked quietly once you’d stopped at the curb.

“I think so, yeah,” you answered honestly, because you weren’t gonna keep her in the dark when things had gone this far, it would only scare her worse.

“And what are you gonna do about it? Cause I know you’re about to do something.”

She was keeping her eyes away from you, looking out the window or down on her own hands, and you could think of any number of reasons why she wouldn’t wanna look at you, each one more upsetting than the next. But the worst one, and the one which most threatened to break your resolve, was the thought she might be afraid this could be the last time she ever saw you. And that by not looking at you, she could somehow change that fate.

“I’m gonna raise hell on these motherfuckers for keeping us in the dark, and then I’m gonna go find my fucking man. That’s what I’m gonna do,” you responded, and your tone was strong and sure, fuelled by pure rage at both HQ and whatever asshole was keeping her father out of her reach.

But then you remembered who was sitting next to you, and a twinge of regret at your choice of words made you frown, although it did nothing to deter you.

“And after I get him back, you’re not gonna tell him or your grandmother you heard me say that,” you cautioned, and she huffed a sarcastic laugh, probably hearing Anita’s disapproving voice in her head just as clearly as you did.

“Deal,” she said, but her voice broke on the one little word, and when she finally turned her head to meet your eyes, all you saw in hers was dread. “Please… stay safe.”

-=¤=-

You walked into HQ fifteen minutes later, and by then you were boiling with anger. Heading straight into Mission Control, for once thankful for your public relations responsibilities, since they meant you had access to all departments, without waiting for anyone to question your presence there, you grabbed the back of a chair and shoved an analyst out of the way to gain access to his computer.

“Hey! You can’t do that!” the man shouted at you, but you didn’t bother wasting energy on answering him.

Your focus was on determining the team’s location before anyone tried to forcibly remove you, and you’d just figure out which application would connect you to the correct system when two security officers walked into the room.

“Step away from the desk, or I will remove you, miss,” a grim voice sounded from behind you, but you were running on days of pent-up anger and frustration, so no matter who might be coming at you, there was no chance in hell you’d back off now.

“Try it,” you spat through tight jaws while your attention was still on the screen before you, having just triggered the locator beacon in Marcus’s suit, so all you needed was just a few more seconds to let the program determine his exact GPS position.

But in your periphery, you saw an officer move towards you and reach for your shoulder. Turning on a dime, you managed to punch him with full force right in his solar plexus, and he went down like a log, gasping for air and curling in on himself. Once he was out, you immediately returned your attention to the screen. You could already see which state he was in, just one more second and you’d have the closest town.

The other officer suddenly grabbed you and tried to pull you away from the station before you’d gotten your answer, and it made your anger graduate into red-hot fury. Something unfamiliar and frightening stirred inside you with your rage, but you were too desperate to care about what it might mean, as you thrashed against the strong arms which tried to restrain you.

You had to find Marcus. There was no other option, no other path available, he was too important, to you and to Missy. So, in that moment, all you cared about was that the fury narrowed your focus into a single straight line and seemed to double your strength. You shot an elbow up behind you, aiming for the man’s ribs, but he was just moving to change his grip on you, and you ended up connecting to his head instead.

He stumbled back and without hesitating, you turned and lifted your leg to kick your heel into his chest, and he staggered backwards and fell against the wall by the door. You didn’t stop to reflect on it, returning to the computer and the final result, now blinking to indicate the exact position, but you were a bit disheartened to realize it only said “Last known location” rather than “Current position”.

Just north of Suwannee, Florida, was the last place his beacon had pinged. It wasn’t what you’d hoped to find, but it was more than nothing, and it gave you a place to start. Turning to leave, you saw that both security officers were still on the floor, disoriented and fumbling to regain their bearings, and as you moved through the room, you noticed how every other person in there was backing away from you. Afraid of you.

You knew you’d feel bad about it later, but it wasn’t important right then. Sprinting through the building, you headed straight for the parking lot, completely focused and determined now that you at least had somewhere to go. As you reached the car and got in, you called Anita. You hadn’t wanted to beforehand since she would’ve definitely tried to talk you out of doing this, but now you had to.

“Hey,” you started the moment she picked up. “I know what you’re gonna say, but I’m going after Marcus, and I need you to look after Missy until we get back.”

There was a moment of silence on the line, and then she sighed deeply.

“Don’t do anything rash now, loco,” she admonished, and there was something in her tone which made you feel certain she did know more about this than what she’d told you.

“Rash, stupid, crazy, it doesn’t matter. I have to. I can’t just sit here and wait when I know something terrible is going on, and none of you are doing anything!” you almost shouted by the end, but despair was taking over and you were on the verge of tears when you continued. “I can’t lose him, Anita. I can’t.”

“And Missy can’t afford to lose you both,” she stated, simply but so poignantly, and for a moment you struggled to breathe.

She was just as important as he was, but how could you ever look her in the eyes again if you didn’t even try and save her father? Your gut was telling you to go. Something really was wrong, and somehow, you’d find a way to help him. You just had to get to him, and everything would work out.

“We will be back. I don’t care what it takes, I’ll get us both back to her,” you assured Anita, not giving her a chance to reply as you immediately ended the call and threw the phone on the passenger seat.

There was no reason to try and conceal where you were going, everyone in Mission Control already knew. So, you buckled up, turned the car on and started driving towards the airport.

-=¤=-

Landing in Florida before lunch, you rented a car to drive out to the west coast, having no idea what you expected to find. But your mind was making up all sorts of scenarios, each one more horrible than the next, so you tried your best to just not think about it. You could only tackle one problem at a time, and the first step was simply to find them. Whatever situation or condition they were in, would be the basis for step two, so there was no point in planning any further than that.

When you reached the small town of Suwannee, you rolled down the window and stopped the first person you saw, to ask if they’d seen any Heroics around, but the woman just shook her head and kept walking. Which wouldn’t have raised any red flags for you, if not for the fact that you drove around for an hour asking everyone you could find the same question, getting the exact same response from every one of them.

Something was very wrong here. Not only was everyone acting too evasive, too purposely ignorant about all things Heroic, but they were just so gloomy. Like they all had their own personal cloud of doom hanging over them. It was eerie and off-putting, to the point where you kinda wanted to get outta town. Which you supposed might be the very reason they acted this way. But you wouldn’t be chased away. Not when the man you loved might be here somewhere, unable to save himself.

So, you looked for a place where people seemed to gather and ended up parking the car at the Salt Creek restaurant. Stepping inside, you found it was packed with lunch guests, and since you were pressed for time and not at all interested in being gaslighted by a community which obviously had something they collectively wanted or needed to hide, you headed for the center of the room, jumped up on a table and shouted loud enough for the entire establishment to hear you.

“Okay, folks, listen up! Cause I’ve just about had it with your supposed ignorance! I work for the Heroics Organization,” you declared, holding up your company ID so they’d know you were telling the truth. “And I’m looking for the team who came to this town four days ago, and whom haven’t been seen since! Now, you’re either the stupidest fucking people in this whole country, or you’re deliberately hiding something! So, tell me where I can find them, or at least in which direction to look, or I’m gonna start making calls and putting this place under a magnifying glass!”

There was a tense silence following your outburst, while you patiently waited for someone to decide they didn’t want the scrutiny of authorities. You’d half expected them to laugh at you or try to suggest you couldn’t or wouldn’t follow through with a threat like that, in which case you’d happily prove them wrong. But instead, they just sort of shrunk deeper into their chairs, which told you they absolutely knew something bad was going on, but were too scared to speak up about it.

Fear was a powerful motivator, you knew that. But so was compassion. If you could get even one person to feel your pain, they might find the strength to see past their fear. Trying to still the rage in your chest and soften your voice, so they wouldn’t get stuck on the perspective of you as this raging bull coming stomping through their lunch, you let your own fear take over for a bit, showing them that the anger was just desperation.

“Please. Please, if there’s anything you can tell me... The man I love is among them, and I won’t stop until I find him. Please, just point me in the right direction,” you begged, and saying those words out loud, putting a voice to the dread which haunted your heart, instantly brought tears to your eyes.

You saw heads bow, probably trying to avoid having to see your pain, but still, no one spoke up.

“His name is Marcus Moreno. He has a ten-year-old daughter,” you continued, while heavy blobs of tears now ran freely down your cheeks. “They all have kids… What would you do if they were your family?”

It took another minute, but finally a voice sounded from the back of the room.

“Bumblebee island,” it said, and you turned towards the voice, finding an elderly man, properly dressed but looking weary and worn out, as though a mere gust of wind could blow his soul away from his body. “You’ll find them all there. But if you go out there… you won’t come back.”

You met his eyes and the gravity of his words hit you. Turning to look around the room, you saw the same expression on everyone there, and realized that this was the cause for the gloom they all suffered from. Something or someone out there on that island was putting these people through hell. But rather than deter you, this realization only stoked the fire inside you even more.

“Yes, I will. You’d better damned well believe I will. Thank you, sir,” you said, and there was no tremor or uncertainty in your voice.

-=¤=-

On the map, getting there seemed like it would require you to rent a boat. But once you got to the nearest mainland, you discovered it would actually be easier than that, since a prolonged drought had left the area between the mainland and the island completely dry. Getting out of the car, you stood on the bank for a moment and tried to think strategically about what you were going to do. You had no weapons, aside from a tire-iron in the trunk, which wouldn’t do you much good unless your target was an invalid, because with your limited fighting skills, anything other than a firearm would be of no help to you.

But what really did a number on your head was the knowledge that whoever had the team, had been able to subdue ten powered people. Whether they’d done it one by one or all at once, it didn’t mean great odds for you no matter what weapons you might’ve had. Still, you’d come too far to turn back now, so you walked out onto the dried ocean floor doing your best to look casual, like a tourist out on a stroll to explore the exposed seabed.

Despite your internal stress, you forced yourself to move slowly, stopping here and there to look at something, trying to make it seem like you weren’t heading straight for the island. Meanwhile, you were constantly at risk of going crazy with fear, as your stupid brain kept conjuring up images of dead bodies with familiar faces but which were otherwise broken and unrecognizable.

To remain sane, you told yourself they would’ve been found if they were already dead, since there was no reason to hold onto a lifeless body for this long. Unless, of course, it was to harvest parts of them. No, you couldn’t think like that. They were alive and if you could just find them, they’d be able to save themselves with their powers. That was as much of a plan as you had. As you rounded the south end of the island, you saw a structure up ahead, right on the edge of the shoreline and cleverly concealed by mangrove trees. It was just a small dome with a honeycomb-shaped pattern, painted to blend into the environment, and a steel door on one side. You walked up to it, since it seemed to you that a tourist would be curious about it, and when you couldn’t see any security cameras on or around it, you tried the handle.

It was open. A bad sign if ever there was one. But, in for a penny… in for a fucking pound. So, you stepped inside and discovered that the honeycomb plates were partly transparent, which meant most of the sunlight came through, unfortunately revealing nothing but a manhole in the ground and a ladder leading down. Another bad sign.

You climbed down the concrete cylinder, you estimated about twelve feet deep, and found yourself in a prison, for lack of a better word. Embedded light fixtures along the ceiling and walls created the same crisp white light you saw in hospital corridors, or examination rooms, and no wires were visible, so this structure had been built by someone who knew what they were doing.

There was no echo inside, despite the size of the room, but you suspected it had to do with the only interior design feature which were cages along each wall, in varying sizes and shapes, each one with a strange kind of padding on the tops, bottoms and back walls. Although whether it was to dampen sounds or just keep bodily fluids from splattering all over the place, you couldn’t have guessed.

Hurrying down the center aisle, you took a quick headcount and was both relieved and terrified to find that the entire team was trapped, each one in their own little enclosure. You assumed that these cages must’ve been designed specifically for each super’s abilities, since it would explain why they all looked different, and why none of the team had managed to break out. But they were more than just trapped.

They looked… hollow. Pale and clammy and weaker than you would’ve believed any of them capable of being. And when you located Marcus at the far end of the left-hand side, finding him passed out like the rest of them and with the look of someone who’d had a stomach-flu for about a month, the fury inside of you gave way to pure ice moving through your veins in an instant. He was barely breathing, and each little inhale sounded like it could’ve been his last.

“Marcus… Honey, can you hear me?” you asked, but he didn’t react at all.

Someone else did, though. A weak and crackling voice spoke from behind you, and you flung around to find Tech-No in the cage opposite.

“Go… he’ll kill you…”

“Tech,” you whispered, inching closer to him. “What’s happening? Who is he, what does he want?”

“No time,” he exhaled, struggling to find enough strength to say another word. “Sensors… the entrance… Go…”

You interpreted what he said to mean that their captor already knew you were there, which was good to know. But you still weren’t leaving without them. Turned back to Marcus, you reached for the lock to the cage to see if you might be able to break it open, but the moment you touched it, a massive electrical charge went through you. It was so powerful it threw you backwards into the front of Tech’s cage.

Trembling involuntarily as your body tried to recover from the shock, you tried to do a quick examination of your hand, unsurprisingly revealing it to be badly burnt. Thankfully however, it still hurt like hell, which meant the nerves were intact. While you tried to get your breathing back under control and wait for the trembling to ease up, you looked at Marcus and then his cage. His powers were a mix of metal manipulation and electromagnetism, and you’d just been electrocuted.

Also, you were leaned against Tech’s cage. His powers were completely restricted to the confines of his brain, able to understand and create technology other minds could only conceptually understand, and nothing was hurting you. Then you looked at Lavagirl and her cage, which was right next to Tech. Still trembling a bit, you crawled closer to her, and carefully held your undamaged hand out towards it to see if it was warm. And it was.

Somehow, their captor must’ve managed to construct cages which effectively sucked their abilities out of their bodies, accumulating and storing them in the frames of the cages themselves. It would explain why they were so weak if their enhanced cells were being drained, probably even from their very bone-marrow.

But by that logic, you should be able to get Tech out, and maybe once he was free, he’d begin to recover. Supers healed about five times faster than normal humans, so if you had enough time… Just as you’d begun to look at the lock on the cage, you heard the door open above, and someone starting to climb down the ladder, which meant your time was up.

There was only one way in or out, so with your enemy between you and the entrance, you were trapped down there. Not that you had any intention of leaving. You got back on your feet just before the unknown man reached the floor and turned around, and you hoped that the continued trembles running through you wouldn’t make him think you were a scared little hare, because you needed him to engage with you, not write you off as uninteresting.

He was tall, muscly but heavyset and broad-shouldered, with dark hair, dark eyes, and tanned skin, wearing simple black clothes he could’ve bought from anywhere. The moment he turned around, he eyed you up and down like he was appraising jewellery, and for whatever reason, he seemed bemused by what he found. Shoving his hands down the front pockets of his pants, he rocked back on his heels and smiled.

“Well, well, well. A surprise visitor. And here I thought all the Heroics were already accounted for. I must say it’s bold of Headquarters to try and trick me, when I still hold all the cards,” he mused, gesturing to his cages with a delighted glint in his eye.

“I’m not a Heroic, and nobody sent me,” you firmly countered, mostly trying to keep him talking so you could learn more about him.

“Oh, my. How intriguing. In that case, you must tell me which one of these special beings is your beloved?” he rebutted, clearly showing off his skills in reading people’s behaviour and intent, and since you had no intention of being toyed with, you merely glared back at him, which he seemed to find mostly amusing. “Or, I could hurt them one by one until you show me who it is.”

“…Moreno,” you finally admitted, since this guy was obviously good enough to catch a lie, and potentially screwed up enough to punish dishonesty with torture of some sort.

“The leader. Of course. Good choice.”

“It wasn’t a choice. And neither was coming here,” you argued, to which he huffed a humourless laugh.

“Everything is a choice.”

“Really? Then why don’t you tell me why you’re choosing to do this?”

“Ah, but that doesn’t concern you.”

“The fuck it doesn’t,” you spat, and he clearly didn’t like your tone, but he didn’t do anything about it, so you pressed on, searching for ways to get him talking. “Come on, you look like the bragging type. Let’s see if you can impress me.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, but then the smile returned.

“I like you. You’re a no bullshit type of person,” he grinned, to which you just cocked your head to the side and waited.

Probably trying to get you off balance, he stood there for at least a minute, meeting your eyes in uncomfortable silence, but when you showed no sign of backing down, he pulled his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms over his chest instead.

“Well, I suppose it’s really not that complicated. I’m an inventor. A gifted one, as you can see. And many years ago, I tried to earn my seat in the Heroics community, but I was rejected. They said my inventions were too violent and cruel, unfit for anything you might call heroic. And sure, looking around this room, most people would probably agree.”

He paused then, and the smile faded into a look of pensive reflection. If you hadn’t already judged him as being largely incapable of it, you might’ve even identified the look as concern.

“I tried to tell them sooner or later, powered people are gonna need an off switch,” he continued, and he sounded disappointed, of all things. “A way for the ordinaries to force them to comply, before someone comes along and decides to rule the world and make puppets of us all. I mean, do you realize how lucky we’ve been so far? That none of them have turned out to be heartless?”

Being someone who had always been sceptical of the supposed superiority of the superpowered people of the world, these thoughts had crossed your mind before. But to your way of looking at it, there was a very big difference between searching for a way to potentially supress individual abilities in order to prevent someone from becoming a dictator, and creating ways of completely stripping all super’s of their powers.

“Because imagine if someone like Crushing Low here,” he went on, gesturing towards the man in question, who was unconscious in his cell directly to his captors left, “who can barely even be stopped once he builds up momentum, decides to become the ruler of the world. Who’s gonna stop him? I don’t understand how anyone could ever think power like that shouldn’t be controlled?”

“Their powers are a result of natural evolution. It was nature who made them superior to the rest of us, we have no right to take that away from them,” you argued, knowing you didn’t have a chance in hell of changing his perspective, so you chose a comment likely to spark further debate instead.

But rather than get into the already much debated topic of whether supers really were naturally evolved, or the equally popular conspiracy theory of human made, he took the conversation in a completely unexpected direction.

“Them? Surely you meant to say: us,” he questioned, catching you off guard and leaving you standing there stunned into silence.

He couldn’t possibly know what Prince had done to you, or what the potential consequences might be, those details had never been publicized since it would’ve been like pouring gasoline on the entire super’s debate. And no matter how much the mad doctor had believed it, there was still no evidence to support you having any supernatural abilities.

“Yes, I can tell you have power. Lots of it, too. But I suppose it makes sense to hide it in an environment like this, where being special puts you in a cage. Alas, I’m afraid I’ll have to see it before I’ll know what type of extraction medium you’ll need. And you should know I always strive not to use violence if I can help it, but given your level of self-restraint, it seems I’ll have no choice in the matter today.”

You had no idea what damned restraint he was talking about, you’d felt like you’d been going off the rails all day. It wasn’t the most important question of the hour, though, as he started walking towards you, pulling out a large knife from somewhere behind his back. There was nowhere to run besides right past him, and there was no way in hell you’d manage that without either getting caught or seriously injured, so you just stood there.

He closed in on you, but you already knew he wasn’t gonna kill you, since that wouldn’t require him to find out your supposed powers first, and if there was one thing you knew about yourself, it was how much pain you could tolerate. You held your ground, convinced that no matter what he did to you, he wouldn’t find what he was looking for, which meant all you had to do was endure until you saw a chance to gain the upper hand.

When he was only six feet away, he raised the knife, preparing to strike at you, and you decided you didn’t wanna see it coming, choosing to look at Marcus instead, in the hopes it would give you the strength to find a way to defeat this evil. But then, just as your gaze fell on your partner’s pale and sickly features, he suddenly flinched and stirred, trying to open his eyes.

“…He-mos…” he wheezed, too weak to even speak, but somehow still finding just enough energy to let you know he’d heard you and knew you were there.

For one infinite moment, your heart faltered, and you wanted everything to stop, even if it meant having to die. Then the moment passed and the same fury you’d felt at Mission Control returned, only a hundred times worse. From one second to the next, every inch of your body was boiling again, fuelled relentlessly by the need to protect your love.

As though an entirely different being within you had emerged, your head seemed to turn on its own accord, so that your eyes could locate your enemy and fix him with a glare so filled with rage it should’ve killed him on contact. Instead, it seemed to amuse him, and he lunged forwards the final few feet, cleaving the air with the blade on its way down towards your shoulder.

But it never got there. About a foot from reaching your body, the knife hit a barrier which the inventor hadn’t expected. The force and weight of his attack was so strong that when the blade hit, it snapped off the handle with such a kick that he dropped it, and both pieces bounced away to other parts of the room. Surprised, he took a step back and raised a hand to examine what seemed to be an invisible wall some ten inches in front of you.

Instinctively, you knew it wasn’t as simple as a wall, but you also had no idea what it was. You still felt like something else had taken control of you. Some dormant twin spirit, come to life to protect you from the evils beyond your normal strength. And yet, when your focus narrowed until you could only see the enemy before you, it was your choice to push him away. There was no other voice inside your head. Just you and this new power.

It seemed to grow and expand at your will, effortlessly pushing the captor back towards the ladder. And as the energy filled more and more of the room, you noticed that without even thinking about it, you were enclosing the cages and the Heroics inside of it as well, trying to protect them. However, you were a bit distracted to find that you could feel them once they became embedded inside the shielding bubble.

They were so weak you could barely detect their heartbeats, but you could also sense their powers, trapped inside those metal rods. And it shocked you to realize how the energies were actually straining against their confines, fighting to get back to their bodies as though they had a sentience of their own. You were pretty sure they didn’t, though. That what you felt was simply the result of an unnatural separation, but there was no question it would kill them all if it continued.

You hadn’t moved from your position by Marcus’ cage, and there was something different about his current. As you became more aware it, it also seemed to recognize you. Like the familiar embrace of an old friend, it felt like it enveloped and welcomed your presence. With one eye trained on the enemy, you reached for the lock again, finding no electricity zapping you this time, so perhaps it had been a defensive reaction.

The lock was a strange kind of padlock unlike anything you’d seen before, and which you had no hope of undoing. But the energy your power released had a kind of weight to it, a heavier mass than the regular atmosphere, and the more you tested it, the more you convinced you became that it could be moulded to virtually whatever use you needed. So, you tried concentrating it around the lock, which was tricky when you were also aware of the Inventor and all the other Heroics at once, but after a few attempts, the lock finally imploded and fell to the ground in pieces.

The moment the cage’s frame was broken, whatever element made it capable of holding a person’s powers, was disrupted, and the stolen energy immediately began returning to its rightful place. But it wasn’t enough. The damage which had been done to your partner’s body as the powers had been drained, was too much for his system to manage. And you could sense that even though the cells were gradually being restored, their energy didn’t just meld back into his being.

It was as though the two entities were out of sync, or at different frequencies, leaving them incapable of communicating normally. And there was no indication this would sort itself out with time. If anything, it seemed more like the longer they were out of balance, the more disrupted they became. You reached a hand into the cage, not sure what you were gonna do, or even what you could do, simply desperate to feel him and know that he was alive.

But the moment your skin connected to his, something left you. Something strong and determined flowed from your hand to his, and was immediately absorbed into his body, which seemed to welcome it, starting a flurry of activity in him. His colour was almost instantly restored, and mere seconds later, he woke up with a start, just as you fell to your knees, severely weakened.

Suddenly fighting just to keep your eyes open, with a body as heavy as if you’d been dead asleep just now, you felt your energy-field collapse, losing contact with all the Heroics, and Marcus, while your enemy saw his chance and immediately rushed back towards you. Instinctively, you forced a barrier back up in front of you as the captor closed in, only just managing to stop him before he got to you, but you were so weak that even the pressure of his body against the energy field was enough to drain your reserves.

�� “Hermosa…?” you heard a familiar voice, back to its usual soft tone, although seared through with worry and confusion now, while he scrambled to get out of the small opening to the cage.

“I can’t hold him…” you said between tight jaws, doing everything you could to keep the barrier up until he could help you, but even though it only took him another moment, it was one moment too long.

Dropping it again, the Inventor practically crashed over you with the sudden lack of resistance, and a heavy fist hit you in the head before Marcus was able to engage him. Everything started spinning while your head pounded so harshly you couldn’t hear anything at all. Disoriented, you didn’t realize it had gone dark because you’d closed your eyes, and when you opened them, your vision was so blurred you could only just make out two figures moving together in your vicinity.

You didn’t know if your partner was doing alright, if he was able to use his abilities against his attacker at all, but it felt like the fighting went on for a long time, which would seem to suggest that he didn’t have much of an advantage. The days of worry and fear which had brought you to this point, abruptly hit you all at once, tapping into some hidden crevice of your primal self, digging up a fresh bout of strength so potent it felt like it set your skin on fire and made your blood boil.

It had to end. Right now. You couldn’t take any more of this shit. You couldn’t lose Marcus.

The sudden rush of fresh fuel turned your mind to a singular purpose, narrowing your focus so strictly, all you knew was that this would stop. Now. You pushed your energy out across the room again, finding all the half-dead Heroics at once and directing all your power at the cages to break their locks, and it worked. With a rustling clang, all nine of the padlocks hit the floor in pieces, and the various energies flooded back into their hosts.

But even though your strength was already fading, you knew it wasn’t enough. Crawling on your hands and knees you went from one cage to the next, healing them one by one, getting impossibly weaker with each touch, until you simply couldn’t will your body to move another muscle. You didn’t know how many you’d saved, you just hoped it would be enough. Darkness crowded in on you as you fell away, and for the first time in a very long time, you welcomed it.

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rhpsdys · 1 year

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talie (they/she) && amair (he/him), the first two heads of the bard coven !!

( keep in mind reading ahead that these two were developed with @titanomakhea’s lore in mind, which is very canon-divergent; that is what you are about to read here. while they also exist in the “canon” version of events, their relationship to belos, the throne, && the coven system as a whole looks a bit different there. )

as belos' power && influence on the isles grew, he built his citadel around the bardic library, having seen first-hand how powerful bard magic could be. with proof of his ability to speak to the titan, && sensing divine influence, they welcomed him. belos && the bards had a close relationship, with the bards serving as many of his close advisors in the beginning. he understood && respected their music, && they in turn offered hospitality in the sanctuary of their library.

a bard named talie was among those most trusted, for their ability to quiet his restless mind with their lyre was unmatched. he in turn shared the secrets of his existence with her, the full power && form of a primordial god. belos forbade talie from revealing this to anyone, && she kept his secrets willingly. the two were very close, often seen talking or playing music/singing together, though no one seemed to realize that belos was at his happiest around her, or that talie's music improved greatly after meeting him, as if they'd found a new muse. talie herself was fairly private, && their written records were coded && sealed behind magical wards. though talie had sworn not to speak of what belos had shown them, he never said they couldn't sing about it, && so talie wrote a vast repertoire of lyric poetry, kept vague through metaphor && symbolism ; though there are some historians who have attempted to decipher these songs' meaning, no one has ever correctly interpreted them. (in the modern day, talie's music has to be translated from its original dialect, && all references to belos are mistranslated as "god of music", leading to the incorrect interpretation of these songs being about qhorhas. however, the more accurate translation is angel of music. as a result of this, && talie's privacy, almost nothing is known about them.)

when the time came, belos appointed talie to be head of the bard coven. talie later took on a young witch name amair as her apprentice. amair was exceedingly talented: he played the piccolo, && his music was so resonant, you could literally see the sound he produced ; even his speaking voice had a melodic timbre to it. he was a devout follower of qhorhas && believed in the extensive mythology surrounding the titans, but didn't buy into the whole 'the emperor thinks he's a god && can speak to the titan' thing — even though, actually, most of that was true... just not in the way belos advertised. still, talie had sworn not to tell anyone the truth, so amair remained in the dark.

eventually, when talie ceded their position to amair, && he became the next head of the coven. though he carried out his duties as assigned, && represented the bards well, he was very suspicious of... everything, especially as it became harder for belos to contain his real form. amair was much more skeptical about the suppression of magic within the coven system, && it was him who catalyzed the sequestering of the knowledge && power of bard magic, to ensure that belos never got his hands on the full extent of their magic — to use it or to take it away. it was instilled in future bards to publicly downplay their abilities, && following his time was when bard magic began to get a reputation for being weak && 'boring'. the bardic library remained a sanctuary for everyone on the isles... except for belos. he still controlled it, but he no longer was given the warm welcome he had been in talie's time. the bards had turned their backs on him, && that betrayal was just one more in a long list. much of the early history && documentation on elemental && wild magic was sealed away in a restricted section that only the library guardians && belos himself could access, further limiting the influence the bards could have on the people of the isles, but they were clever. no power of heaven or earth could stop storytellers from spreading knowledge.

#out of.#headcanon.#i'd apologize for so much bard lore but im literally not sorry

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maeofthenoldor · 2 years

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A, for the ship ask game :)

Thanks Anon <3

A - Ships that you currently like a lot. (They don’t have to be OTPs because not everyone has OTPs.) Friendships, pairings, threesomes, etc. are allowed.

Ahhh now this is actually really hard, because they switch around ALOT. I swear I'll have a ship I'm hyperfixtated on for a full day. But here are the ones that have been consuming my mind and have been a constant brainrot.

-Findulias/Nienor (I NEED more fics on them)

-Celegorm/Orome (This probably has to do with me stating to write a long fic on them, which will be out soon ;))

-Goldberry/Lady of the blue brooch (dont even get me started on them, I will go on for literal hours)

-Amaire/Vana (this is because I just finished the biggest fic Ive ever written on this ship for mvs, and not to be a shameless self promoter, you should check out <3)

-Finrod/Beor (There is too much potential for this ship, like too much!! and the angst, and the immortal/mortality feels! Its too much for my little heart.

As you can tell I'm in a very rare pair mood :D

from this ask game here

#tysm <33 #ask game #tolkien

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shoeshineyboy · 2 years

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what's the quote or moment that made sure this show would get lodged in your brain forever when you first saw it?

okay so to clarify: the first time I watched this show, I was on a flight from London to NYC (the queen of england was legitimately dying at this time), it was 11:30am, and I was two wines in because they serve so much free booze on AmAir and all the brits jumped on it

anyway

it was the moment in S1, about 3 minutes in, when Stede and the crew try to "loot" a tiny fishing vessel and Stede asks the two guys he's robbing to hold the rope ladder because it's moving too much. and also when he comes back with his potted plant and has to be helped over the railings. no reason for it. it just grabbed me from then on. I love this ridiculous man and his crew so much <3

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sulphuric-acid-house · 7 days

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(very) rare (ish) names i found scrolling around this morning

gendered according to how i found them but hit's up to you if you want to use them

"FEMALE":

ALFA

ALIONNA

ALYZE

AMIERE

ARLENY

BETHAN

BRITZEL

CAMAURI

CAYSEN

CEDRIA

CELIN

CHARLET

CHERITH

CHINELO

CHRYSSA

CIMORA

CIRI

CYENNA

DANNETT

DANYCA

DAREON

DELMA

DEONNIE

DEVORA

DICEY

DIGNA

DOVIE

DYAMI

ECRIN

ELKE

EMMRY

ERIANIE

ERILYN

FARZANA

FERRIS

FINDLEY

GALIT

GIANNE

GLYNIS

GRAESYN

HAMSIKA

HANIEL

HAZEN

HERAN

HILDE

HURLEY

ISAMARY

IXCHELL

JALICE

JARELLY

JENCI

JOELYS

JOURDEN

KAENA

KAINAT

KALYCE

KAMBEL

KARELLY

KAVIONA

KAWTHER

KELBIE

KENNI

KERRIN

KEYONDRA

KEYONI

KINZE

KOWSAR

KYLINA

KYNSLI

LAELLA

LANELL

LAPARIS

LAREN

LAVARIA

LENAY

LENISE

LILEY

LITSY

LIVIER

LUCE

LUISE

MALAE

MARAN

MAXWELL

MESHELL

METZI

MIAMOR

MIERA

MOLLEY

NARDOS

NARELLE

NEYLIN

NIRALI

NORELY

NOVELLE

NYCHELLE

OMRI

OSMARA

OSMARY

PARMIS

PASCALE

PEARLA

PERCILLA

PREET

QUIARA

QUINTAVIA

RAEL

RAFIA

RAYLI

REET

REIZY

REUT

RHIONNA

RICKEL

ROAN

RYELLE

SABRYN

SAMARRI

SANNE

SEILY

SHARDE

SHARLYNN

SHELSEY

SHIRIN

SIFAN

SITEY

SOLYMAR

SUMNER

SYDELLE

TACARI

TAYLEY

TERRION

THEONE

TILYNN

TIVOLI

TORRANCE

TULIA

TYLLER

TZIRY

VALENE

VITORIA

VIVAN

XIAN

YAGMUR

YAMILLET

YARISEL

ZAFIRO

ZIARE

ZODY

ZORIANA

"MALE":

ABIRAM

AGUSTUS

AIRRION

AMAIR

ANTRONE

ANYELO

ARMONTE

AUDRICK

AVRAHOM

BAILEN

BIAGIO

BLY

BRECKAN

BRIX

CASIMIRO

CASSEN

CHEVIS

COREE

CORYON

CURRIN

CYSON

DAWTON

DEONDRAY

DEVEREAUX

DEZMAN

DISHION

DORYAN

DREYLON

EADON

EANN

EARLY

ELIASAR

ERUBIEL

ESROM

ESSAM

FALLOU

FERMAN

FRAZIER

GAMALIER

GERRON

GERZON

GIANO

GRAYLON

HALDRIN

HALL

HARSHAL

HEATON

HIATT

HIEN

HOLLAN

HYDER

IMERE

IRVYN

JAMEON

JAYSAUN

JEVANTE

KAILEO

KASSEN

KERIC

KERN

KHAIL

KIERE

KIPP

KOLBEN

KYANDRE

LANARD

LARRI

LAVONT

LISANDER

LORETO

LUKES

MACADE

MADEX

MARLAND

MARQUINN

MARZELL

MAXENCE

MIRAN

MITT

MONTRICE

MYCAL

NEILAN

NEVO

NIKLAUS

NORIAN

NUNZIO

OEN

ORYN

OTNEIL

OZAIR

PABEL

PERRION

PEYSON

PHELIX

PHYNIX

PIO

QUILLIAN

QUION

RALPHEAL

RAMIEL

REMIEL

RENNAN

RESTON

REVE

RHOME

RIGDEN

ROMEY

RONON

RORAN

ROSHON

ROZELL

RUCKER

SAVOY

SELBY

SELESTINO

SELMAN

SHONDELL

SHREYES

SHYLO

SLATON

STARLING

SUCHIR

SWAY

TAIGEN

TALBOT

TAVEYON

TEIN

THADEN

TIRAS

TRAVOR

TRINO

TRUXTON

TYKELL

VAYRON

VINTON

VINTRELL

VONTEZ

WACEY

WEILAND

WHITT

WUILMER

XANDIR

XYLAN

YACIEL

YISSACHAR

ZAIDON

ZENON

ZYMIRE

ZEMARION

#acid has a voice #names #name suggestions #apparently every name here had less than eight uses in 2008! that's how you KNOW it's spicy #oc ideas #?

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dreamysleep · 5 months

Photo

Singapore Sci-Fi - Chapter 15 - Naomi (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1418249321-singapore-sci-fi-chapter-15-naomi?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=laurapuffycloud Genesis, an interdimensional wyorm, wants nothing more than to take over the human race to avenge the death of her Uncle Amair. Yet she finds herself overwhelmed in Singapore where she runs into her ex and very hot Korean actor. Axel, child of Prince Theo of Emgralore, will do anything to avenge Arkethia's thirst for power and eventual destroying of worlds. With the help of a motley crew of time-traveling teenagers, they will do their best to rid Queen Naomi of her illness. Together these two inter-dimensional monsters must do everything they can to stop the multiverse from falling to pieces.

#aliens #asia #birdman #blackcomedy #comedy #fantasy #koreandrama #savingtime #sciencefiction #scifi #singapore #soapopera #time #timetravel #travel #science-fiction #books #wattpad #amreading

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atomic-taco-muffin · 6 months

Note

Ephemer x muruko au:

Amaïr: (or pronounced amair an the oldest son in the liter) *tugs on nightmare's ear while growing playfully*

Nightmare: *chuckles*

Nightmare: yes little one

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youngsoulcity · 9 months

Text

youtube

Lance Skiiiwalker / FRIENDS

Produced by Groove, Amaire Johnson & Lance Skiiiwalker

2023

#audio #Youtube

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diiirrt · 1 year

Text

Masterslist ~

======================

FanFics ~

L’ennemi - Theseus Scamander

Amaire - Fred Weasley

Jus Drein Jus Daun - Bellamy Blake

Error - Peter Pan OUAT

Teach - Theodore Nott

Cryptis - Daemon Targaryen

Zaldrīzes- Aemond Targaryen/Jacearys Velaryon

End of a beginning - Regulus Black

Desire - JJ Maybank

Manaka- Tom Riddle

Mortuus Vivus - Carl Grimes

OneShots ~ (Working in Progress)

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sirowsky · 20 days

Text

The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 19 - New Normal

Description: While you were recovering from your ordeal in Florida, there were some hard truths you had to come to terms with about yourself, but fortunately, your poorly planned rescue meant that Marcus was still there to help you.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 5540 (3062 words added) Masterlist (this story)

Marcus came back after lunch, several hours later than you’d expected, finding you in Amaire’s capable hands, as they supported your sides while you went for a small walk around the bed. It did feel a lot like you really had stepped back in time, when you were suddenly dependent on them just to move around again, but happily, you steadily felt stronger the longer you were awake.

And the more you ate. You’d already gone through three breakfasts and a lunch, and you were almost getting hungry again. Healing people was apparently vastly energy consuming.

“Hey, Amanda, I’ll take that side for a bit, if you don’t mind,” your partner announced after walking in and smiling at the sight of you already up and about.

“Sure,” the twin to your right replied, stepping away as Marcus took her place, placing his strong hands around your waist and under your arm.

“What the actual fuck?” you exclaimed, feeling both peeved and stupefied. “There is no way you can actually tell them apart. No way in hell… You just said a name and went to whichever side became available.”

They all laughed at your piqued reaction, but you didn’t much care. You were certain you were right about this, no matter what your boyfriend might try and make up as an explanation. You’d die on that fucking hill if you had to. But you also didn’t much care because of how warmed and serene it made you feel, seeing Marcus smile with such joy again. How long ago had it been since you’d last seen him happy? Considering you’d been unconscious for a while, that was a very difficult question for you to answer, but then you also had a generally poor perception of time passing overall.

“If that was true, do you really think I’d ever own up to it?” he playfully winked at you, but your pride wouldn’t let you play along.

“Just get me back to the bed, before I start chewing on you,” you huffed, not really all that peeved anymore, but sticking to your guns anyway.

“You’re hungry again?” what you had to assume was Claire, almost coughed out, staring at you incredulously from her position at your left shoulder.

“Um… maybe. A little,” you quietly admitted, although the truth was you could easily have gulped down an entire Thanksgiving meal.

“Unbelievable. How much is that now?” Claire asked her sister, now sitting at their desk where she was documenting your little walk.

“After your lunch meal you’re up to… six thousand calories in the last two and half hours,” Amanda calculated by reading from your chart, where every aspect of your physical and mental health were being recorded.

“Just another Tuesday then,” Marcus chuckled heartily, instantly bringing your irritation back.

“Hey, I do not eat that much ordinarily.”

“Close enough,” he joked, and you couldn’t deny that his levity was a nice change from how serious and grim things had been ever since he’d left for this latest mission.

You’d reached the side of the bed at that point, so you sat down slowly before scooting further up the mattress and pulling your legs up. Marcus was about to help you, but Claire cautioned him to let you try on your own first, which you appreciated. Because you wouldn’t have pushed yourself as hard as you did if there was always someone there to offer you an easier way out. You did let him tuck the covers over your lower half before he took a seat a little further down the mattress, facing you, and his smile was still there when he started talking.

“So, the inquiry went well. I don’t think they’re aiming to punish you for your actions, so much as try and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t. I feel horrible about it,” you confessed, suddenly feeling a little less light-hearted.

But your partner’s good mood remained, even growing more sparkly, which seemed odd considering he was usually more prone to letting himself be affected by your emotions.

“They showed me the security-footage and I’m mighty impressed. I had no idea you could fight like that. I mean, Mitch and Gavin are big guys, but you took them down with one and two moves each,” he pondered, reminding you that you’d never actually told him about the training you’d done leading up to your exams.

“During my rehab, when I asked for more physical exercises, one of the things I was most eager to do was learn some self-defence, and it was the one thing he was only happy to let me do. So, we ended up sparring a little bit almost every day. I’m not saying I’m a trained fighter, but I can pull some moves if I need to.”

“I noticed. And I have to say I like it.”

“Thanks…” you tried to smile, because you did appreciate the compliment. “But it sure didn’t help me against The Inventor.”

His joy began to fade at that, recognizing why you weren’t letting him comfort you.

“We all failed against him. You were the only one who was able to circumvent his gadgets.”

“Only because he didn’t know how to apply them to my powers. It was just a fluke.”

“No. I refuse to believe all that’s happened to us was random,” he firmly stated, locking eyes with you. “The Inventor was our perfect adversary. Someone we never stood a chance against. And then you show up, somehow having the perfect ability to protect not just yourself, but all of us from him. I can’t believe it was all just happenstances. That you could come into our lives right when we needed you the most.”

There was such conviction in him when he talked about this, it was almost like it floated through the air around him. It made you want to believe him, and he could see it.

“Hermosa, you have no idea how big of a difference you’ve made,” he continued, and something else crept into his features then. Something a bit sad. “The day you turned up and became my mission… was the day I was getting ready to announce to the team that I was gonna leave.”

You felt yourself suck in a sharp breath, and you wanted to say something, to object maybe, but nothing came out. It was too shocking to hear.

“I had a whole host of excuses lined up. Wanting to focus on helping Missy, wanting to be around more for her, to keep my promise of staying alive for her… To let the team out from under my shadow and start to come together on their own, not always rely on me to work out their spats and remind them how much they mean to each other. I was ready to combat any argument they might’ve come up with to get me to stay. But then I saw you, and suddenly it didn’t matter. Because seeing you like that, fighting against the impossible and somehow beating it, even though you were all alone… made me realize I’d already given up.”

Something thick and heavy was settling in your heart, but it wasn’t a bad thing. You’d always known that day had been impactful for him, but you never could’ve imagined it had actually changed him. You were so focused on his eyes, on taking in every syllable he spoke, that an elephant could’ve walked through the room, and you wouldn’t have noticed.

“I felt like I’d been fighting for years, like I was exhausted and therefor entitled to walk away. But the truth is, I was just scared. Of losing someone else that I cared about, no matter who it might be, I just couldn’t face the possibility of having to bury anyone else. I wanted to crawl into a safe little hub and stay there, where the world couldn’t hurt me anymore. But it was a delusion. A wish that could never have come true.”

“That doesn’t mean you were wrong to want it,” you whispered, scarcely able to speak at all, you were so enraptured by his honesty and vulnerability.

“No, but I was wrong to think living in some imaginary perfect world would make anything better. I was wrong to give up just because things got difficult. Especially because they weren’t all that difficult. Yes, the team gets on my nerves when they get childish and petty, but so what? It makes no difference in the end. They’re still good people and the Heroes the world deserves. Walking away from that wouldn’t have made my day any easier. Just… emptier. And Missy… She’s already stronger than me. The only way I could ever fail her is if I stopped being the person she can always rely on.”

You had to admit, it seemed unlikely all these events would’ve unfolded randomly. It was all so delicately connected, from the timing of your first meeting apparently changing his mind in a major decision, to the fact that your powers had tipped the scales of destiny for all the most important people in both of your lives. But you didn’t believe in destiny.

“So, you think we were meant to meet? That the cosmos made Prince pick me so that I’d end up at that hospital in that exact moment?” you sceptically challenged, but it just made him smile again.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. My point is simply that whether you fight with your fists, your wits, or your powers, you are already the most powerful person in the world, because when the rest of us cave… you keep going. No matter what.”

The quiet of the room seemed almost electric for a moment, as if his powers represented this unshakeable faith he had in you, by not allowing themselves to be limited to his frame.

“I’m with Team Leader on this one,” Amanda suddenly added, breaking the silence and the static, before her sister lightly slapped her shoulder.

“Damned it, I was just about to say that…”

It made you and Marcus chuckle warmly, breaking the slight tension of the sheer seriousness of what had just transpired, bringing you back to a lighter note.

“Just don’t put me on any impossibly tall pedestals, guys,” you cautioned, albeit with a genuine smile on your face this time. “I’m still just a person, like you, capable of the same failures and mistakes.”

“Oh, we weren’t the ones who put you there, honey,” Claire answered. “You did that all by yourself. We’re just the baffled crowd watching the magic, scratching our heads and trying to figure out how the heck you’re doing it.”

“But that’s my point, I don’t know any more than you do.”

“And yet, you consistently manage to succeed where we fail,” Amanda shrugged.

Looking at them one by one, you found the exact same expression in their eyes, and while it made you feel a tad uncomfortable, the foundation you could see underneath the more superficial awe and incredulity, was love. And there was no reason to argue against that.

“Okay, but just don’t try and hold it against me when I eventually fuck up,” you shot back, thinking of all the times you’d already failed at your job and disappointed people around you.

And before anyone could object, something else on the topic of your less than perfect qualities occurred to you, and you turned to your partner.

“Wait, is it actually Tuesday today, or were you just playing?”

“It’s Friday. Why, do you have somewhere to be?” he joked, knowing full well you didn’t have any appointments while you were recovering.

“Ha ha, very funny. No, I just realized I had no idea which day it is, as usual. Why am I always such a mess?”

“Hey, you’re not a mess. Shit just keeps happening to you,” he offered, to which you couldn’t object.

“So it seems,” you softly replied, looking down at your right hand and the tendrils of melted skin across your palm, wondering if there really could be some unseen reason behind these impossible trials you seemed to have been put through lately.

It was the only scar you had, despite the severity and multitude of injures you’d suffered in your life, and somehow, that made it special.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you about that,” Marcus interrupted your thoughts, and he sounded unsure now. “Because they told me those are electrical burns. Did I do that to you?”

“No. That fucking cage did. If I’d touched Lavagirl’s cage I would’ve gotten burned from heat instead. But that’s what I meant when I said your power seemed to recognize me. Because later, when I was… projecting… or whatever, I could feel your current in the frame of that cage without touching it, and it was like it welcomed me. Like it wanted me to touch you,” you explained, seeing his smile return and this time, it was an adorably sheepish one.

“I always want you to touch me.”

Rather than answer him in words, you reached your left hand towards his face and gently stroked your fingertips against his cheek. Letting his eyes fall shut, he leaned into your touch and hummed somewhere deep within his chest, just like he did in the mornings sometimes, when he was still half asleep but incandescently happy. He really did mean that any touch of yours was welcome and wanted, no matter the place or circumstance.

“Ditto,” you lovingly returned, to which he opened his eyes and met yours for just a second, then turned and glanced over at Amaire by the desk.

“Could you guys give us a minute?” he politely asked, and without pause, they both got up and headed for the door.

“Sure. Gotta get some more food for this bear anyway.”

They walked out together, and you scowled a little at the food-joke because it wasn’t like you had any control over your current insatiable hunger. But you were also being overly sensitive about it, since you felt strangely vulnerable after discovering your abilities. It was as though you suddenly didn’t know yourself, or at least, a giant piece of yourself, and as amazing as it was to be powerful, it was equally terrifying to suddenly not know what damage you could potentially do.

And on top of that, you felt horrible about not telling Marcus the whole story. In fact, you hadn’t told anyone. Not the nurses, the doctors, the scientists who had been there earlier to take samples and tests in order to study your powers. And you weren’t even sure why. Strangely, Anita didn’t seem to have told anyone either. Not even her son. Maybe because she felt it was your responsibility, or maybe because she just didn’t wanna get in the middle of it. But whatever her reasons, you weren’t sure how you felt about any of it.

“Hey, where’d you go, Hermosa?” Marcus’ voice reached through your thoughts, and when you momentarily looked up at him, you felt like he could see the secret you were keeping from him, and shame sent a trail of acid through your gut.

“Um… Just worrying about how this is gonna change things,” you said, which was true, just not in that particular moment.

“How do you mean?”

“I mean everything. My job, our relationship, my everyday life… Because somehow, I don’t think HQ is just gonna gloss over the fact that I didn’t get these powers naturally, and simply treat me like any other super. And honestly, they shouldn’t.”

“Okay, first of all, our relationship is gonna evolve, nothing more. You have to know by now that nothing is gonna break us, and least of all something entirely beyond our control. And second, HQ might wanna study you, but they don’t own you. No one does, and no one gets to make any decisions for you, no matter how you became a super,” he reminded you, which did set your mind at ease, but did nothing to cleanse the shame within you.

“Why did you ask Amaire to leave? Was there something you wanted to talk about?” you asked, hoping to change the subject before you’d feel compelled to spill your guts, which you did want to do, but not until you’d had a chance to understand your abilities better so you might be able to reassure him it wouldn’t kill you to use them.

“No, I was actually hoping for a little less talking…” he trailed off suggestively, and he couldn’t have picked a better moment to distract you, although he obviously didn’t know that.

Before you could even react, his lips were suddenly attached to yours, devouring you like he was starving too. Just not for food. The heat which flooded you within just a few seconds was enough to chase away the acid, letting you get lost in your desire, grabbing at him and pulling him down on top of you, while he searched blindly for the bed-controls to lower the head-section.

He found them after you’d already relieved him of his shirt, and while he worked to flatten the bed, you reached down towards his belt, wasting no time in trying to free him. And the moment his hands were available, he ripped your gown to shreds and then stroked you, growling as he found you already gushing for him. You bucked into his hand, needing more, needing him to fill you, and he could feel your need as clearly as he felt his own, which drove him wild.

He kicked his shoes off with such force you heard each of them hit the ceiling before bouncing several times against the floor. You then both heard and felt his frustration at having to actually take his pants off rather than just rip them, so desperate to feel you that a part of him would gladly endure the embarrassment of having to ask for a pair of scrubs to wear until he could get to his office.

Knowing the strength of your desire would already have you clenching internally, he took a few breaths before he began to push into you. And as he did, with both of you trembling at the still so overwhelming sensation, his current washed off him and into you, through every inch of your bodies which were in contact with each other. He’d never done that during sex before, and it didn’t seem like he was doing it voluntarily right then either. But what shocked you about it wasn’t that it happened, but that your own power responded to it.

You had no idea what was happening or how, and you couldn’t have stopped it if you’d wanted to, which you kinda didn’t, even though it was jarring. The air around the two of you became thicker, just like it had when you’d shielded yourself, but this time, it seemed to act as a conduit for his powers, helping them reach deeper into your system, setting your entire body alight with pleasure. Literally.

Your skin started to shine, and after another minute, so did his. Just a glimmer under the surface, but somehow connecting the two of you in ways beyond the physical, multiplying your raptures as they combined and fused with one another. Marcus was gasping for air with the force of his pleasure, throwing his head back as he strained to push himself deeper inside you, needing more even though this was already beyond what either of you had felt before.

His current increased until his body couldn’t contain it anymore, and all the machinery started going haywire, including the bed, which he quickly short-circuited to keep from disturbing you, sending it crashing down to its bottom setting. You took the opportunity to kiss his neck while his head was still pulled back, and then nibbled at his collarbone, trying to get him to come back to your lips. It worked, and as his mouth slotted over yours once more, he slipped a hand under your head and grabbed your hair, gently pulling your head back which forced your throat to open wider, letting more oxygen in.

For a moment, it confused you, thinking that maybe he was concerned about you fainting again, or not feeling confident in your overall recovery, either of which would’ve made sense. But then another jolt of his power hit you, and it was so strong it actually took your breath away, before your body sent it back to him, adding your own distinct flare to it along the way.

It was more than he could take, and he drove his pelvis into yours with as much force as he could muster with the limited movements that your internal musculature allowed. He grabbed your ass and lifted you up onto the fronts of his thighs as he drove into you one final time, reaching his peak with a growling scream. Every piece of metal in the room was thrown against the walls, even the bedframe crumbled underneath you, when he lost control and spilled into you.

Feeling that was all it took to bring you over with him, and you curled in on yourself as your arms lost their grip around him, falling limply down to the mattress instead. But your power was still active. You could still feel him on your skin, and under it, as though every inch of him was somehow in contact with you. And judging by his reaction to your orgasm, he could still feel you too.

You both collapsed a minute later, when the waves finally ebbed out and you were completely spent. Panting and shaking with adrenaline you just held each other for a long while, and it wasn’t until you started feeling cold with the sweat you hadn’t even felt until then but which was now rapidly cooling your skin, that you found the strength to speak.

“I think… we broke some things…” you tiredly observed, glancing over the part of the room you could see without having to move your head.

“I’ll pay for it. Happily,” Marcus grumbled into the pillow he’d crashed into over your shoulder.

But then you shivered, and he reluctantly rose to his elbows, barely even managing it with how unsteady he still was.

“Is it terrible of me that I’m a bit proud of how badly your arms are shaking right now?” you asked, smiling tiredly at his generally dishevelled state.

“Nothing about you is terrible. I love that you can reduce me to a trembling mess, just as much as I love that I can do the same to you,” he grinned, blossoming into a giant smile when he saw you respond in kind.

But then he pulled out of you, which instantly brought a frown to your face.

“Wow. I have never known a woman who loves to have a guy inside her as much as you do. It’s a constant source of wonder for me,” he huffed with a little laugh, and although you were still disappointed, you wanted to make sure he understood why.

“Well, you’ll be pleased to know I didn’t used to. That honour befalls only you.”

“Oh, that does please me. A lot,” he proudly replied, before kissing you again.

His sudden jump out of the bed once the kiss was over brought back your frown, though. You pouted as you watched him gather up his clothes, suddenly feeling freezing and alone without him, so you grabbed the covers and pulled them up to your nose before somewhat arduously turning on your side and curling up to warm yourself.

“Shit… Did you happen to see where I threw my left shoe?” he wondered, scratching his head and turning in circles.

“Knowing you, probably down a staircase,” you muttered, which made him stop in his tracks and turn back to look at you.

“Wait a minute… Are you pouting right now?”

“I’m cold. The bed suddenly isn’t very warm anymore.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, mi amor,” he smiled apologetically, “but if I’d stayed there any longer, I would’ve had to go again. And with the twins probably on their way back with the food by now, I’d rather not be caught with my pants down.”

“Well then, you’re out of luck, cause I’m pretty sure they heard you, anyway,” you grumbled, feeling a powerful shiver travel down your spine.

“I wasn’t that loud,” he declared, sounding confident about it until he saw you raise your eyebrows at him. “…Was I?”

“Honey, I think the whole building might’ve heard you,” you countered, which would probably have been a stronger statement if right then, your stomach hadn’t decided to join the conversation, growling louder than you’d ever heard it before.

And even if you hadn’t seen the delighted and slightly cocky smile on his face, you still would’ve known exactly what he was gonna say in that moment, and you were absolutely not in the mood for it.

“Marcus. Don’t even start.”

“I was just gonna say that apparently I have some competition in the noise department,” he grinned, feigning innocence without any success.

“You wanna have a competition? Sure. You go ahead and scream as loud as you can and let’s see which noise brings the entire medical department running in here…” you sourly challenged.

But if he was about to retort, he didn’t get the chance, because right then the doors opened and Amaire walked in, holding four trays of food, the smell of which made your stomach growl again, even louder.

“Please… please tell me you brought all of that, just for her?” your partner giggled through the words, until one of the twins gave him a reality check.

“Well, let me put it this way. Judging by the sounds earlier, someone seems to have depleted what energy-reserves we’d been able to restore. Which means we now have to start all over again, so that your girlfriend might actually get to leave this ward at some point in her life.”

Her tone was harsh and precise, clearly stating her disapproval that their efforts to help you were being destroyed for something as trivial as carnal pleasures, and Marcus instantly sobered up.

“That was not my intent,” he quietly admitted, struggling to hold eye contact with her as his idiocy caught up to him.

“I didn’t exactly try and stop him,” you cut in, wanting him to know you were fully aware that this wasn’t just his fault, but the twins weren’t having it.

“It doesn’t matter which of you did what, this is a medical chamber, and you’re confined to it for a reason,” one of them chided, before turning back to Marcus and gesturing to all the broken equipment, some of it lodged into the walls while the rest was piled up against the edges of the room.

“I suppose all of this ruined equipment wasn’t your intent either?”

“No. We, uh… had a bit of an overload.”

“You don’t say. And you don't think there’s anything wrong with one of our most powerful supers completely losing control in a building filled with hundreds of people?”

“Now, hold on, I wasn’t that out of it. I would’ve known if there was a risk I’d hurt someone,” your partner defended himself, but Amaire was adamant.

“There’s no way to know that until the day you happen to go too far, and I know you’re not stupid enough to be that reckless with your abilities. You’ve been down that road before and you know where it leads, so don’t make me remind you.”

Abruptly, he looked as though she’d just slapped him back in time, and it worried you to see her words affect him that deeply. He’d never mentioned any problems with his powers to you, recent or otherwise, but there was clearly something serious in his past he’d left out. Which he was entitled to do, especially if it hurt him, but it made you wonder what had happened.

Taking a breath, the one of the twins who had just verbally slapped him, allowed herself to calm before she continued.

“My point is, we still don’t know all that much about powers when they’re natural, and we know practically nothing about artificial ones, so just… try to think with your big brain from now on.”

Still looking like a ghost had just walked through the room, Marcus merely nodded, treading nervously on the spot for a moment before he came to your side, suddenly reluctant to even touch you.

“I should get back to Missy, school’s out in an hour,” he said with a tremble to his voice, then he leaned down and kissed your temple. “But she’ll wanna see you, so we’ll come by later.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, digging a hand out from under the covers so you could take his.

“Yeah. We can talk about it when you’re feeling better,” he offered, but in his eyes, you could see he was hoping you’d just forget about it.

“Sure,” was all you said, and then he left.

“What is wrong with you, girl?” Amaire startled you out of your own head with just as sharp a tone as she’d used on your partner a minute ago.

“What?”

“Look, I get that you love him, like crazy, but you just woke up from another coma and you’ve barely even begun to restore your energy-reserves. Honey, don’t you see that it’s dangerous for you to do certain things right now?”

“Of course I do. But I can’t help it,” you started, feeling just as defensive as you had when she’d gone at Marcus. “When he touches me… I’ve never been able to control what that does to me, not even from the very first time we kissed when I literally attacked him. And now, with what my powers allow me to do… I wish I could describe it in a way that someone else could understand, but I can’t. It’s beyond words.”

“Try,” she insisted. “Because when it comes to you, every little detail of your experiences might prove crucial to understanding just what you’re capable of. Which means you can either tell me, or you can share these intimate details with the scientists who are in charge of deciphering the physical mechanics of what you’ve become.”

She wasn’t wrong. If they were ever gonna figure out how to help you, you’d have to give them as much information as possible. The problem was, that on this subject, you really didn’t know what to say.

“It’s… like we become a part of each other. His power courses through me, amplifying everything I feel, and somehow, mine does the same for him. Like they blend, like we… become one being in spirit, or something.”

She didn’t know what to make of that, apparently, so she turned to her sister, who merely shrugged, equally perplexed.

“Alright, I’ll put it in your charts. But I already know your doctor is gonna order you to steer clear of sex, for now. At least until the geniuses in Science finish developing the nutritional supplement we’ve asked them to create for you, to keep your energy up without you having to eat for ten people in every sitting.”

You didn’t know they’d requested something to help with your accelerated metabolism already, but it made you feel better to hear it.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me by heeding my warnings. I don’t get this worked up over details,” she reminded you, and then unceremoniously placed the first plate of food on the bed in front of you. “I’d raise the head-section of the bed but unfortunately, someone broke it. And what do you know, the integrated tray table is also busted.”

Unable to keep from smiling, you coaxed your limbs into cooperating and sat up, trembling from the loss of strength, earning you a disapproving shake of her head even as she helped pile pillows behind your back to help you stay upright.

“I swear, you’re worse than teenagers,” she tutted, before stepping over to the desk to handwrite in your journals, since the pad had also fallen victim to your partner’s overload.

When you’d finished every crumb from all four trays you were still hungry, and it made you wonder about the future. Because if just one tumble among the sheets was enough to bring you to the brink of starvation, what did that mean for your life in general? You’d never thought of food as anything that could become a restriction to your happiness, but it seemed likely to happen now.

Another four trays were brought to you within minutes of you telling your nurses you were still not full, and it made you feel almost sick to your stomach to have to consume so much just to not feel starving. But for the time being, there was no other solution. There was nothing else to do, but to put your trust in the specialists of all things super and hope that they could come up with a way for you to live a normal life. Albeit a strange, new and unfamiliar kind of normal.

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archfeyworkshop · 1 year

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World of Arturium: Allt an Amair & Bad an Oir

So this week is a double-feature, because the two nations in question are quite small, and fundamentally intertwined in their origins. Both almost entirely Elven nations, formed during the fall of Vel'Shasa and a peoples' collective response to guilt and loss. Both of them located East of Huraaln and North of the Oberstyre Confederacy with Allt an Amair the westernmost of the two) they neatly map the route by which the Elves fled in the wake of the rebellion in Vel'Shasa and the causes that led them to settle.

Westernmost of the two and briefly covered last week, Allt an Amair exists as a small portion of former Vel'Shasa. A satrapy of Huraaln allowed to retain a measure of internal independence but entirely at the mercy of its ruling nation, Allt an Amair sits on the plains still with mountains to the north and south and the forest to the East. Its west is blocked by a river that separates it from the rest of Huraaln, a fortified town built there that houses a garrison placed with the express purpose of ensuring the Elves don't entertain thoughts of rebellion. This military force doubles as the defence and policing of the nation, with Allt an Amair not allowed to assemble its own military.

This isn't to say that they couldn't defend themselves if they were required to. There are workarounds to most rules and these are found in Aoineadh an Aifrinne, the capital city. Built against the mountains that secure the south border then sprawling north as tendrils, the seat of government is managed by a handful of elders. Many rumours are abound of royal blood amongst their number, but with Huraaln keen to stamp out any legacy of Vel'Shasa royalty they are carefully kept to just rumours. As important individuals they are permitted to have personal staff, thus allowing the city to boast a small militia. Supplementing this are the warrior priests; the mountains secure several holy sites that were important to the previous monarchy's religious doctrine and as places of pilgrimage, they are defended by skilled holy unarmed warriors.

Someone who learned too much of Allt an Amair might accuse them of planning revolution. Those who know too little would think the same. But for the most part these steps - the hiding of royal blood and the assembly of armed forces - are indeed for internal affairs and personal protection only. The Elves who travelled to Allt an Amair after the revolution were those with a will to remain in their homeland, but many accepted the faults of the past. Not all were themselves directly responsible but for the passive acceptance of the regime that had hurt so many; for those seeking rebellion one must look into the forest further east. Allt an Amair is the guilt of the Elves.

Within the forest, the rest of the exiles and refugees reside. First stop on the journey East is Carach Aisridh, a warren of pathways, ravines and copses leading through dense patches of hidden woodland and ruins from the time of the Faerie migration. Those who settled here were the eager and the reckless, desperately seeking somewhere to hide and plan their retaliation. It quickly became a sprawling nest of little camps and tent villages, amidst some of these ancient ruins being colonised and portals to the Feywilds being discovered. With the most of the warriors settling here and being ruled predominantly by the former military commanders of Vel'Shasa to launch attacks into the new nation, Carach Aisridh is a focus of many of Huraaln's military efforts.

Fortunately for its inhabitants, Carach Aisridh is notoriously difficult to siege. The Faerie who passed through these portals millennia ago put in place defences never meant to be used this way; illusions that twist and change the geography, long-bound outsiders to serve its rulers, and strange magical implements that have almost universally been put to work in service of the hidden war they now fight. For only a few decades this space was guaranteed safety, but in recent years all of the portals to the Feywild, precious escape routes, have barred access to the people of Carach Aisridh. With the revival of Spring the wilds beyond fell under sway of their queen once more, and the fury each of the Elves here carry in themselves bar them from the safety and sanctity of the World Mother's Court. Carach Aisridh is the fear and fury of those who refuse to see their failings, and that mindless wrath is not welcome in the new Spring.

East of here at what could be considered the geographical heart of the forest rests the ceremonial capital of the nation, Sluic am Nigheanan. Here the certain final fragments of the Vel'Shasa bloodline settled with those most loyal to the line, gaining a quasi-mythical status amongst their kin. An attempt of the refugees to recapture some aspect of what once was, the city is built into a deep ravine out of heartwood trees sung into being by its settlers. While in theory the capital of Bad an Oir it is largely the capital of itself, more a city state than the head of a greater nation. While the entire forest is considered the nation and its people nominally pay deference to Sluic am Nigheanan in its few matters of diplomacy, Bad an Oir being a unified nation is more the result of outsiders labelling it as such.

What it is is a clear symbol of how different and removed things are for the Elves of the forest now. In the years since their exile the Elves here rejected the many powers they felt had abandoned them, and found a solace in the comforting cold of the moon. In this void of faith flowered a new dedication, to the enigmatic being known as the Blind Watchman, that took the full moon and silver flame as its symbol. It casts an eerie glow across Sluic am Nigheanan now, the city's torches lit with that eerie silver glow, the moon always overhead at night in the city's limits. This faith has saved the city from being found many times, its priesthood that bear the moon and flame as icons bending the power gifted to them in order to shield themselves from the eyes of the world without. And yet, not all is well. With the purge that occurred in Vel'Shasa and the uncertainties of the exile the legitimacy of the city's queen is a hotly-contested thing, and beyond its walls even faith in the Blind Watchman is a thing of uncertainty for such a mysterious being is if nothing else a test of blind faith. Sluic am Nigheanan was founded on desperation for purpose and hope of its people, two things which left to fester ferment their own trouble.

The last notable settlement in this fragmented country rampant with emotions is Creag Mòdan. Far East where the forest drops sharply, carved from north to south by a sheer cliff face rests a large town built at the very edge. Teetering on the precipice of a fatal fall, a melancholy hangs over the town like a pall. A quiet place of rare celebration and characteristed by the simple kindness of its population, they have no need to hide for there is nothing worth finding there. There are weapons, bows and knives used in hunting, with a handful of town leaders all with some knack for healing or succor, but presenting no strategic value and finding no time for escaped warmongers or the plans of the settlements to the west.

Almost a retirement village, the people of Creag Mòdan came as far East as their legs could carry them, to a simple existence to put down their final roots. Those who landed here were those who had passed all of what came before; felt the anger and desperation and finally emerged from the other side. These people are those who have come to accept the sins of the past and their role in what occurred, and why the reaction came as it did. as a consequence, Creag Mòdan finds itself as practically the sole notable trading post of Bad an Oir, engaging in some minor trade and tourism with the confederacy to its south. Still this is the barest minimum, with the natives traveling out sometimes to recapture the warmth of the world, and those who travel to the town unable to stay for long before being overcome by the same melancholy that afflicts its residents, and with a need to return to their homes and families.

In the end, Bad an Oir is less a nation and more a forest swallowed by the collective emotions of a conflicted and grieving people. It binds them together and creates an environment that feels and functions differently to the world without.

Next week we'll be following that trek south, to the Oberstyre Confederacy and the Queendom of Fandalay that cuts it in twain.

#vtuber #pathfinder #ttrpg #fantasy #dnd 5e #eldritch #worldbuilding #fantasy worldbuilding #elves

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sirowsky-stories · 5 months

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The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 4 - All For You

Description: You'd finally started making progress physically, spurred on by Marcus's continued encouragement, but also quite baffled at his, and everyone else's, continued interest in you.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 2422 (1002 words added) Masterlist (this story)

It had been three weeks since you’d officially woken up, and at this point you were getting seriously embarrassed with the amount of attention you were being paid on a daily basis. There was a never-ending stream of people catering to you every moment of every day, and as comforting as it was to always have warm bodies around, and kind hands ready to assist you with anything, it was also a constant reminder that you were actually just a random person, and not at all important enough to anyone to warrant such attention.

But thankfully, your beloved nurses were still with you most of the time, and they were more than happy to make sure your head stayed firmly planted on the ground. Mostly by just treating you like a normal person, neither special nor insignificant. You’d learned that their names were Amanda and Claire, and that they were actually identical twins, and you never had any clue which one was which. But they really were angels, of that much you were certain.

As soon as you’d opened your eyes, the process of helping you get stronger had begun, by means of nutrition, physical therapy and medication. A schedule had been set up which detailed every second of your days, even when and how long you would sleep, and they’d kept to it like machines. Unable to speak, you’d had no choice but to submit to their efforts, which had seemed a bit superfluous at first, until you’d started to feel little traces of improvement. It had still taken a full week before you’d regained enough strength just to turn your head by yourself, but once you’d gotten going, you’d started making steadier progress.

Like turning the cogs on a vault, you’d managed to systematically click things in place inside your head, until a movement had been unlocked, and then you’d just carried on to the next one. In the last two days, you’d even been able to sit on the side of the bed for a few minutes, with Amanda and Claire on either side of you in case you’d tip over.

But every single day was a flurry of people coming and going, taking tests or readings from the various machines, making assessments on your physical and mental progress, checking how much you ate, how much you excreted, how long you’d been awake without rest… It was endless. And while you were grateful for their efforts, you felt like they were wasting resources on you. Surely, there were other people who needed help and could benefit from the attention more than you.

By the end of week three you were finally speaking again, although with some difficulty. It involved so many different muscles and breathing right, and using the chest, and it was just exhausting. But you still tried to speak as much as you could. And the twins were good at making sure you had ample opportunity for it. You’d started calling both of them Amaire in your head, since you were certain you’d never be able to distinguish them anyway. Today though, one of them seemed to notice that you were a bit down.

“Hey, sweetie, what’s the matter? You look sad.”

“Just… feels… exaggerated,” you admitted, to which she looked perplexed.

“Exaggerated? What? Our care of you?” she wondered, and you settled for just nodding in response.

Her expression only turned warmer at that, as if your belief in your own insignificance was little more than a challenge for her to convince you of how precious you were in her eyes. A maternal trait if ever you’d seen one. She was moving your right arm in circles in the air while you were flat on your back in bed. It was part of your regular physio training, a program which took an hour and a half to complete, involving your entire body, and the nurses had to perform it twice a day. You were supposed to actively participate in each movement, but so far, you only had enough strength to keep it up in the beginning of each movement.

“Trust me, sweetie, you’ve earned every second of our care. Don’t you ever doubt that. We’ll have you back on your feet before you know it,” she smiled, as casually as if you’d been friends for years and she was just reminding you of an already established fact.

You wanted to tell her that you fucking loved her and her sister, for just being good people, but it felt like that might be inappropriate. So instead, you just didn’t fight the tears when they accumulated in the corners of your eyes, letting them fall so she could see how much her words meant to you. She didn’t wipe them away, and you saw her own eyes glisten a little more in return. You were left alone to rest after that, but just an hour later it was time for lunch, and Amaire reappeared with a tray.

“Good news, it’s chicken soup today, and no one does chicken soup better than our chef Greg. Trust me on that,” she grinned while operating the bed to get you into a seated position, then pulling the folding table up in front of you, as you worked on waking up fully. “So, are you trying yourself again today, or do you think soup is pushing it?”

“Depends,” you replied, while trying to pull your arms free of the duvet.

“On?” she pressed as she assisted you.

“How sick… you are… of… laundry?” you said with a smile, and she chuckled heartily at that, just as her sister entered the room balancing another two trays of food in her hands.

“We thought we’d join you for lunch today. That okay?”

“Sure.”

They helped you a little, but for the most part, you managed the soup pretty well. They did take the precaution of putting a large bib under your chin, which turned out to be a wise decision, but it still felt good to do something so basic on your own again. The sisters talked through most of the meal, and you knew they normally didn’t do that, favouring to just chuck the food down and then chat. So, you knew they were doing this to keep their own pace down so you wouldn’t feel like you were being slow.

Once the meal was done, they gave you a wet towel to clean yourself up, and you had just gotten rid of the last few traces of spillage, when Marcus walked in. He still came to see you every day, and it was by far the very best part of every day. This time, he walked in wearing his uniform and he looked a bit ruffled. He’d been fighting, but you didn’t see any damage, so you assumed he’d come out of it okay. His expression was a bit stressed when he first walked in, but when he saw you sitting up in bed and working the wet towel over your hands, he smiled, and the stress seemed to evaporate.

“Buenos Dias, hermosa,” he greeted, and damn, how you loved it when he spoke Spanish.

Not just because it sounded sexy, which it absolutely did, but also because it suited him. It felt like his American side was a little too prominent most of the time. As if he’d been bullied because of it as a kid, or for whatever reason been made to think that it was improper or bad to be Hispanic, and had toned it down ever since.

“Hi. You okay?” you asked, eyeing his suit and lingering on the scuffmarks, but he waved it off.

“Just a little battle-weary. I’ll be fine after a shower and some of that amazing soup. Did you like it?”

You just nodded, trying very hard not to picture this man in the shower. Oblivious to your quiet struggle, he smiled wider for reasons you couldn’t fathom. It wasn’t like you’d said or done anything special.

“How do you feel today?” he wondered, still grinning warmly at you.

“Good. Stronger… just…” you tried, but then the words died on you.

You hadn’t meant to voice your feelings concerning being given excess attention, but you were an emotionally governed person. What you felt found its way out of you, one way or another. The thing was, that if you said it to him, you knew his lovely smile would vanish, replaced by either sadness on your behalf, or a heartfelt objection to your perspective, either of which would make you feel bad about it.

“What?” he prodded, but you just turned your eyes away, looking for something else to talk about.

The sisters were still in the room, although they’d moved back to the computer station and desk in the far-right corner, and presumably the one of them who had done your physical therapy earlier, decided to help you out. Unfortunately, not at all in the way you would’ve wanted her to.

“She seems to think we’re wasting resources on her,” she called out across the room, and Marcus turned around to look at her as he listened.

Since his back was to you then, you tried to signal Amaire to stop talking, and although she definitely saw you, she apparently chose to ignore your request.

“She thinks she somehow doesn’t deserve such rich attention and that all these resources should be put to better use. I told her it was nonsense, but she doesn’t seem to agree.”

When she fell silent, he turned around again, and when his eyes came back to yours, he looked almost pained.

“Don’t… god, don’t ever think that. What was done to you…” he tried to object, but he didn’t seem to have his thoughts in line, so he sighed and bowed his head, giving himself a moment to realign them. “You need to know that if there’s anything that can be done to get you well again, it will be done.”

He looked up to meet your eyes again, and for a moment you could have sworn you saw something like reverence in them. Crap. You must be getting really tired if your mind was making up shit like that.

“If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just tell me, hermosa,” he continued then, suddenly looking a bit unsure, as if he feared you wouldn’t want his help.

But nothing could’ve been further from the truth. In fact, he probably couldn’t have said anything more dangerous to you right then. Because you felt weak and vulnerable, and all you wanted was to feel safe, which was the one thing Marcus always accomplished, without even trying. You wondered if “kiss me” might be part of the ‘anything’ on offer by any chance. Not that you’d ever dare to ask for such a thing.

“… stay…” you suddenly heard yourself whisper, and in no time at all, your pulse shot up and you were abruptly incredibly grateful that you weren’t hooked up to any heartrate monitors anymore.

You could not believe you just said that out loud! Fuck… Bowing your head, you pretended to be very interested in your towel, all of a sudden, while desperately hoping he hadn’t heard the nearly inaudible word.

“As long as you like, preciosa,” he answered, crumbling your hopes, but also leaving you convinced he had super-hearing.

But… Wait, what did he say? You snapped your head up to look at him again, completely boggled by his honey-soft reply, and still trying to persuade yourself that you’d imagined it.

“What…?” you tremblingly replied, to which he smiled again, and it was the kind of smile that reached into your heart and made it melt, like it was made of snow, and he was the fucking sun itself.

“If you want me to stay, I will. I do have to go home to Missy at some point, but other than that, I’m all yours,” he hummed, and you gulped.

Dropping your head forwards to avoid his eyes, you abruptly wondered how the heck you’d gotten here. This was not supposed to happen, Marcus Moreno was not yours. Was he? He was certainly layering on the charm thickly enough to fool you into thinking as much. But you could also be completely wrong. This could be his normal character, using his charm merely as a way of keeping your spirits up. Nothing more.

“I… I didn’t mean… You don’t… have to,” you stammered, both due to your struggling speech right then, but also because you were flustered.

The man was turning out to be a fucking fairytale made real. So much about him was desirable, not to mention that whenever he was in the room with you, his entire focus was on you, full of care and concern, which didn’t make it any easier to try and keep yourself from falling for him. He took your hand, silencing your nervous blabbering even with such a simple touch. But not because of the sensation of his skin on yours.

What stole your attention was suddenly feeling the same energy which you’d felt from him right before that first time you’d opened your eyes. The moment he touched you, it came surging through you, and just like then, you almost immediately felt stronger. Holy shit. He really did influence the atmosphere around him. Enough even to reach into your body. You looked up at his hand, still holding yours.

“You’re… doing something…” you said, not sure how to explain.

“Hm?” he responded, following your gaze, and when he realized that his touch was responsible, his smile vanished, and he gently let go of you. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He looked so apologetic, even taking his hands off the bed and shoving them into his pockets instead, making you think that he probably hadn’t even noticed he was doing anything. He was clearly assuming he’d made you feel uncomfortable, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

“No, it… helps me. I… think,” you tried to elaborate, and saw his expression shift from guilt to confusion and finally to dumbstruck.

“My current helps you?” he questioned, quite obviously baffled by the mere notion. “How do you mean?”

“Don’t know. Just… feel stronger,” you shrugged, to which he cocked his head to the side, before that mischievous glint in his eyes returned, and a playful grin spread through his features.

“Well, in that case, mom can take care of Missy tonight. We’ve got work to do.”

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