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you have permission to pick that 2 year old "abandoned" project back up. it's not mad at you for setting it aside. and maybe time and distance have helped ease or erase the things that made you put it down in the first place.
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anyway whats in the usb stick is zzzpade listing all the things about severian that they love and makes him feel safe around him and also how he was thinking about giving up hollow raiding so he can be w severian properly
i havent gotten to severians like one appearance yet #inseasononechapter1.5 but have this thing anyway thats probably wildly inaccurate to canon bc idk if he knows who phaethon is andddd i dont want to spoil the story for myself <3
Severian is in his office on the phone to Phaethon when the windowâthat he refuses to acknowledge he leaves open just for youâcracks open, a cold breeze followed by a single thump. At first that isn't so strange, when it's raining as bad as it is tonight you usually carry Little Rascal in under your coat; except the window doesn't shut and the strange dread he had been feeling all day intensifies.
"Commissioner, we can assure you we don't mean any haâ"
Severian listens with half an ear as he turn his chair around, a glare already forming on his face at what must be your latest prank. "To get back at you for ruining my raids so often, silly!" were the words you had said after the first prank, but his breath stops and his heart lurches at the sight of Little Rascal.
The bangboo's facial display is crying, big glowing tears that take up the entire screen and look all the more real for how soaked Little Rascal was. No, for how soaked your jacket wrapped around the bangboo had gotten. Why was Little Rascal wearing your jacket? Where were you?
Little Rascal shakes your jacket off and steps forward, a familiar looking box in his small hands. Severian recognises it as the type of puzzle boxes you tended to hide usb sticks with data you found interesting in, but more importantly it's the box you had said you keep your information of him inside.
"ârm to New Eridu. It's our home too!"
His phone slips from his hand, clattering onto his desk noisily making the other end go silent. The fur on his tail is bristling and Severian can tell his ears have folded back in anger, though he forces himself to relax when Little Rascal glitches and steps back from him.
Severian leans down and holds his hands out to Little Rascal, relieved just a little when the bangboo runs into them without any hesitation. Picking them up he turns his chair back around, going to set the bangboo on his desk but keeping it in his lap when the little things tears make its screen turn entirely blue. With one hand he pats Little Rascal with more care then he thought he was capable of right now, and opens a drawer with his other hand.
"Commissioner, are you there? Is something wrong?" Echoes faintly from his phone but Severian ignores Phaethon, you are more important to him. He's sure that his superiors would be more interested in him finding the proxy Mirage more than the still rebuilding Phaethon after all.
It only takes a few moments to plug the hdmi cord he had retrieved into his computer, and then into the port on Little Rascal's side. Severian taps his fingers on his desk impatiently as the connection loads, a faint snarl escaping him as an enter password screen showed up
"How am I to know this? He has never put a password on you before!" Severian snaps at the air, careful not to take his building dread out on your bangboo.
"What?"
"Master said that Master Kitty should know it, as long as Master Kitty wasn't lying about knowing Master's favourite fruit!" Little Rascal peeps from his lap, and that at least removes some of Severian's tension.
"Did he just get called Master..." "...Kitty?" "Gasp, Little Rascal is with you?!"
Severian is quick to pull up the most recent footage in Little Rascal's memory, helpfullyâunnervinglyâalready marked by one of your practically trademarked paw prints. He isn't sure what he's expecting when he hits play, but it wasn't the sight of you covered in blood.
You don't have your jacket on, you must have already given it to your bangboo, but it means he can see the cuts that littler your arms and the ether burn on your shoulder. That would make drawing your bowstring harder, Severian notes distantly, and your ears are twitching in a manner very reminiscent of someone getting close to ether poisoning.
Severian's stomach drops as you open your mouth to speak into the camera, looking into it but it feels like you are looking into himâit feels like a goodbye, blood spilling out your lips as if you had bitten your tongue while running. An eye symbol pops up on the bottom corner of his computer screen, but Severian is transfixed by the most serious expression he has ever seen on your face.
"Is thatâ" Phaethon's voice. "Spade?!" Seth's, you wouldn't want him to see you like this. "âMirage?" The other Phaethon this time, but the one time he asked you about them you had grimaced and Severian had dropped the subject.
"Hey Kitty," you sound so resigned, Severian's claws cut through his gloves and dig into his desk. "Is there a new person running security on the commissions Carrot's or something? You should give them a raise!"
Severian doesn't like where this is going.
"I took a gamble you probably would have blown a gasket about if I had told you, though haha it's not like I tell you about any of my raids even if this isn't a commission. Don't want you in knots over the moral dilemma on if you should arrest me or not, you always get so relieved when I rat out another proxy after all!"
More blood drips out your mouth, and Severian watches in disbelief as you set your bowspear aside to bring out one of his guns. BANG! There is the faint sound of an ethereal dissolving nearby, and he feels sick as he watches the blood continue to drip from your body.
"Anyway I got the thing, but it's not worth it. Or maybe it is? I don't really know," you laugh but it sounds more like a wheeze, Severian doesn't even notice that he matches the sound. "A program that can find out a proxy's real identity, regardless of any account changes. At least it should be useful for you right Kitty?"
"Little Rascal should be downloading the program onto your computer now," Severian doesn't care, not when you are still talking in that resigned tone with that sad, sad look in your eyes. "It should help you find that group that has been messing with the your commission's ability to receive distress signals and hollow alerts right? I hope so, you work too hard."
Your ear twitches and you look off to the side, a frown forming on your face. A familiar stubborn glint forms in your eyes, when you look back at Little Rascal's camera you cup the bangboo's faceâjust like you had his that morningâand lean in to stare into itâSeverian's low growl dances on the edge of a fearful hissâand that soft smile you have ever shown to him appears on your face.
"Don't get mad Little Rascal for leaving me, okay Kitty? It's not his fault, or your worker's fault! I looked over the carrot I stole just like I always do before entering a Hollow, and nothing was different until I tried using it to get out the Hollow." You look regretful, but you haven't done a single thing you've regretted since long before meeting him so why. Why, why, why!
"The carrot led me to an exit, but it was only big enough for the Rascal to get out of, and my watch has beeped five times now. Even with my aptitude thats still twice too many times, I'm going to override his systems and implant a command for him to go straight to you." An apologetic look appears on your face, like you know just how cruel you are being by telling him this.
"I gave my puzzle box to him, much more important than that program in my mind haha! I left a message in it for you, I know that by the time Little Rascal reaches you it will be that time of day you take calls from Jane or other dubiously legal contacts the Public Safety Commission has," you pause, and a startlingly shy look creeps onto your face.
"I know most wouldn't be able to hear it," Severian's eyes briefly flicker to his phone, and then the eye that hadn't been on his computer earlier. "But I didn't want Jane to hear it, that message is just for you okay? No one else."
"Everything I want to say to you is in there, everything. Sorry if it takes you a while to get into the box, but those words belong only to you, no one else gets to listen to them. I have to go now, I can hear... ethereals getting closer." You smile at Little Rascal's camera, but then the feed cute out and Severian is left staring at his reflection in the black screen. Seeing the blinking eye disappear as a program pops up, Severian reaches out and grab his phone bringing it to his ear.
"Phaethon," Severian rasps, "find him alive and your file will be wiped from the Public Security Commission's database."
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Do love the concept of yan blade coming back from planarcadia so warm and affectionate and human in ways you never experienced before and nowâeven tho youâve been basically held captive as a comfort doll for when he was in the throes of maraâyouâre starting to really fall for him bc those glimpses of someone who truly cares for you are no longer just glimpsesâŚ
When Blade returns to your shared bedroom from whatever errand heâd been sent on, his first words to you are: âHave you eaten?â
The question is almost stilted. It tumbles from his lips uncertain, hesitant, but his hands are warm and steady as they cup your face, rough thumbs brushing softly against the apples of your cheeks.
Youâre at a loss. Itâs been weeks since his sudden and inexplicableâor, at least, not explained to youâchange of heart, but after years of routine it still feels horribly new.
(When Kafka had dragged you from your shared bedroom to greet him, youâd braced for the same song and dance as every other time heâd returned from a mission. But instead of tossing you over his shoulder and heading for the bedroom, heâd greeted you sweetlyâa cradled face, a tender look, a kiss to your brow. Not freedom, not a change of heart, but⌠something so close to devotion it made your heart ache.)
Today, when you shake your head no, rather than throwing you onto the bed ass-up, he quietly reaches for your hand and turns for the door. You follow him dutifully through the dim corridor of the current safe house until it opens up into the main room, a comfortable shared space where Kafka and Silver Wolf are occupying two sides of a wide, plush sofaâBlade does not spare them a passing glance, but a helpless look from you on the way past only gets you an impish grin from Kafka and a waggle of Silver Wolfâs fingers.
Youâve long given up hope for help from them. Bladeâs companions have only ever been too eager to throw you at him, a bone to a particularly vicious hound. They only seem to intervene when his gnawing risks breaking you for good.
But right now his fingers around your wrist are hardly bruising as he guides you into the kitchen. His hands remain gentle when they find your waist to lift you and place you on the counter; they linger, trailing down your thighs when he pulls away and turns to the fridge, one squeezing the meat of your calf just enough to make you twitch before his touch is gone.
The fruit that he pulls out is vibrant purple and alien. Whatever it is, he knows exactly how to handle it, setting about peeling its wrinkled skin with a paring knife, standing so close his elbow nearly brushes against your knee with each movement.
You donât often get the chance to explore the rest of the safe house. Blade typically only slips out of the room when youâre too fucked out to follow, assured that youâll remain exactly where heâs left you when he returns. Fingers curling over the edge of the counter, you recall the first nightâwhen youâd dragged your exhausted body out of that much-too-small bed and to the adjoining bathroom for some semblance of tidying yourself up, only to be caught by a savage arm around the waist and manic eyes like smoldering embers in the dark.
The eyes that regard you now glow just the same yet feel anything but, heavy-lidded and aged, curtained by strands of hair that seem greyer than they were when heâd left.
Without thinking, you reach out to brush them away, the pads of your fingers grazing his forehead. His lashes flutter as he leans into your touch.
âYouâre different,â you say boldly. It earns you a quirk of a brow, an expression horribly endearing for a man who once stole you from your bed in obsessive madness. âYouâve changed since you came back from Planarcadia.â
âMuch happened while we were away,â is the cryptic response you receive. He pinches a slice of that fruit with thumb and forefinger, holding it out to you. Your mouth opens instinctively. Its taste is bright, the flesh nearly melting upon your tongue, and when his hand pulls away youâre left with the sweet juice upon your lips.
âAnd I wonât get an elaboration on that?â
âA weapon dulls and must be reforged. The craftsman and tool are tempered together, born anew as one, transformed through a thousand shatterings.â
âRight. Whatever that means.â You lift a leg to tuck your knee beneath your chin. âAnd does this reforged weapon no longer feel the temptation of flesh?â
The movement of Bladeâs finger stills. He goes rigid, tensing in an instant, taut as a strung bowâbut his eyes, quite pointedly, do not meet yours.
A complaint sits on the tip of your tongue. You will not voice your desires, not in these circumstances; you refuse to beg your captor to touch you. And yet, if he wonât let you goâŚ
âThe least you could do is satisfy me,â you sneer. âYou havenât so much as touched me inââ
He fills your open mouth with another slice of exotic fruit. It tastes tarter now, messier, the nectar spilling over your lips and down your chin as you let out a squeak of surprise. Blade closes the distance between you before you can blink, and even as you swallow the mangled flesh around his fingers they lag within your mouth, the rough pads of his index and thumb dragging along the soft plane of your tongue. You close your teeth in pitiful protest, grazing the skin of his knuckles and pretending not to notice how his eyes spark with heat.
Still, when that thumb drops to wipe the sticky juice that glistens on your chin, your mouth feels dry. He brings it to his own lips, which part to let his tongue find it, throat bobbing with a swallow. Your breath hitches, and his eyes jump to meet yours.
Then he surges forward. You nearly slam your head into the upper cabinet behind you, so startled by the sudden movement, but catch yourself with an elbow. He has you cornered now, broad chest and ashen hair crowding your vision, thick arms at either side, and there is nothing to do as his head drops and he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You can feel his breath there, hot against your skin.
And his lips, brushing just barely at your neck as he speaks, âthis blade can never satisfy its hunger.â
brain is currently attacking me with domestic blade and SEVERIAN ???? thoughts i havent even MET severian yet im still on season 1 chapter 1 intermission !!!
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