[rippcrdoc]

                          ❝   you get to a certain age, you drop all of your illusions.                                                                     life just gets easier from there.     ❞    

                                                   indie selective VIKTOR VEKTOR                                                            of  CYBERPUNK 2077                                                                  adored by lana

                                   CYBERWARE PRICES / MAKE AN APPOINTMENT              

[rippcrdoc]

biochipped·:

          𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃, as carnivorous as her posture, the rest ofher.  smokey succubus eyes, this buzz of something truly inviting in hersystem.  long legs tipped with 𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑹𝑰𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑵𝑺, hot pink nails sharp as if to rake his skinwide open & peruse the junction she’d make for viktor’s still beatingheart.  the woman he met some six months ago & grew a little toocomfortable next to or behind.  around. like a 𝐓𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐑.  or perhaps something more benign ; asplinter right under the skin that he wants push on to feel before he popped itout. because 𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑵 is merely a hair’s breadth partition awayfrom pleasure.  toma la manzana, cariño, y te mostraré eden.

& then?  hesitation which melts from 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑, she can feel his joints stiffen as thoughhe’s completely snapped out of the glamor.  all once liquid muscle becomes𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑬. unyielding.  

a prick of unease fast makes itself homewithin the pit of her stomach.  & her sudden intuition is right,because not soon after, she finds herself being 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐃 away from that close proximity by way of hishand.  quit while he’s ahead.  & her mouth pressing together in 𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄, optics take their distance, focusing on 𝑬𝑸𝑼𝑰𝑷𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻 sitting on his shelves.  a thinker’slook, something turning & mulling in her head.  what it is, obvious inthat five inches of 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 the man has made.  do not play funerarygames with the dead, lest the heart of the living shall too die.

after that one word which puts the kibosh onit all, she gives a 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 & a slow, drawn out nod.  to say it 𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑫 is simply putting it lightly.  entiretyof dainty features grow hot to the touch like she’s catching fever. something within her fractures, something she must process later in the leisureof her apartment.  ( she wants to yell, rage & tell him notto toy with her like this, with her feelings! in reality, they’re both at fault& cooler heads prevail. ) with now smallish eyes, sighs like a 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓, & she straightens.

❛ yeah. ❜ is all she says.  𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 more.

her hands move away from his person.  butnot before 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 it toward his left pectoral & giving hima light, half-hearted pat.  with dignity that doesn’t befit someonerepudiated. v raises a leg with dignity & unwinds herself from him,ultimately 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 to grab a towel from his mini bench & setit over her shoulders, over the saturated hair sitting on it, then, to her gymbag.  getting her things together.  she has to wrap this sessionup.  she 𝑵𝑬𝑬𝑫𝑺 to leave.

     PAIN, TOO, MUST BE EARNED. The disappointment in her is almost palpable, his rejection comprehended, yet reaching the button he had no desire to push – SELF-CONTROL is yet to be mastered, a mistake he’s made in letting her to close, in allowing himself to lay a hand on her. Run his fingers across her bare skin with adoration, impale her disintegrating form with kisses, then cut open her chest and hold on to her heart. Just to TRY and save her one more time. That’s what it is. That’s what it will become, if he gives in – except he already did, by demonstrating a clear answer to her past flirtations. 

      ❝ VAL... ❞  An explanation is due – shakes his head, running a wide palm over his chin. Pointless. JUST A KISS, wasn’t it? Stands up, a hand reaching out to catch her wrist – desperation mixing up with care. He’d never grab her forcibly, even if it would mean watching her turn away and leave. But she KNOWS that already – the unforgivable crime of letting in then letting go, the very one he’s trying, perhaps in vain, to avoid. 

      A deep breath, regaining his senses. Not a playdate, not a game to play – Viktor was never the type, not even in the days of his youth. NOW WHAT? Can she really, sincerely look into his eyes and say he isn’t in love with her, like the dumbest gonk, like an IDIOT BOY he never thought he’d feel like again? Does it need saying? There’s a quiet voice – that of reason, no doubt – inside his mind, whispering ‘ let her go ‘. 

      He can’t. He just can’t. 

      An apology is due – a reasonable decision to keep their distance if these sessions continue, or an EVEN MORE REASONABLE ONE to stop them altogether. For men like Viktor, it’s not a game to play to chase away the BOREDOM, nor an attempt to conquer, a woman or his own loneliness. It’s almost funny, seeing a young girl like Valheri run off because of his half-hearted rejection. ❝ Wait. ❞ 

      What’s there to say? ‘ Come back when you aren’t dying? ‘ A pause lasts longer than he’d prefer it to, the sheer discomfort of it lingering in the tenderness of his touch as a hand slides over her shoulder, pulling her a little CLOSER – only for a moment. A defence needs to be built. A wall between them she’d tried so desperately to break until he allowed her to. 

     ❝ What is happening between us is... ❞ WRONG. ❝ Something I’d give everything for. But I can’t. I can’t afford to lose you, not like this. ❞ 

[ladylancelot-deactivated2017080]

I just love female muses so much. Reminder to all writers of female muses oc or canon that you are doing amazing work and are talented as fuck, and your collective giant middle fingers to the rampant misogyny in the rp community is just the light of all fucking life. 

[rippcrdoc]

Me & my ultimate brain rot are gonna spend the rest of the day over at @hellmersmyopathy

[rippcrdoc]

biochipped·:

         𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒. instead, leans forward with a balletic grace ingrained into muscle memory. hetakes her with him in the slight elevation ; smooth hands on the surface offreshly-shaved skin ( its radiant shade of the golden kiss of nature! ) renders the surface of 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 crawlingwith goose-prickles.  arrector pili.  a nagging thought bites at thenarrows of her brain: was it truly a one-sided scheme of pretense or hasan enchanted viktor finally succumbed to the allure of his own accord &allow it?  v knows him to be an intelligent man —— smokescreens &complex shadow games do not disquiet him.  you can’t 𝑻𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑶 withsomebody unless they know the steps. 

the manner in which he grazeshis mouth over the tattooed dip between chiseled jawline & collar withheated intent confirms all 𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 speculation. & in knowing this, is truly at peace with it.  she would very muchlike to whisper out his name.  something.  anything.  herbetter angels advise against it —— that words might shatter the 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍of heaven, the buildup.  the careful architecture.  &fortunately for her, they’re kissing once more.  hot & heavy. puts pressure into it. into closing that unnecessary gap between them.closer.  meld. fingers of right handcrawling the surface of his white t-shirt until it cups around hisbrass-colored 𝑩𝑶𝑿𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑮𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑲𝑬𝑻 whilstoccupying the left toward the nape of neck, sinking fingertips past stitchedcollar band.  talk more with her gestures. relive with him his 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 whenhe was at his peak.  for a little while.

a sweet-smelling carnivorousplant, she attracted the shiny beetle she’s been eyeing up for months. tangling him into something that will be 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑬 𝑫𝑰𝑭𝑭𝑰𝑪𝑼𝑳𝑻 tofinagle his way out of.  or perhaps she is more like the metaphoricalblack hole where her thighs are the event horizon.  𝒂 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒏𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏. inescapable.

pillow parlor tricks or not,there is a more sound method to v’s perceived madness ; peel the layers &one will find a woman undeniably drawn to the kindness, 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 &unconditional compassion as a moth is to a bright bulb. 

        RUN DOWN THE DEVIL and grab her by the waist. It’s the way she touches him that foreshadows his bane – to surrender at last, to let her take the reigns and PROFESS his feelings for her without words. To let go of self-control and be lost in the realm of her INEXPLICABLE ADORATION, a one-way ticket to his personalized version of hell where she rules as the QUEEN OF THE UNDEAD. The sweet, ironic agony of it – she is clinging to him, her last resort, the only hope for salvation, but he cannot save her. From herself or from the ticking bomb inside her head – to love a woman like this is to INITIATE A SELF-DESTRUCTION PROTOCOL. 

         It’s at this point that guardian angels shed their tears. Hands sliding from her waist to her chest, pushing away slightly – the difference between RIGHT and DESIRED is often blurred. Women like that wear their appetites for romantic carnage like a golden chain curled around their necks – there’s no point to try and get away. Only the LAST FRONTIER remaining. Cross it to sign both their sentences – sealed with a kiss. A sharp exhale as he moves a few inches away. It’s not an option not to want her, crave her touch. It’s the sinking feeling of LOSS that claws at his chest – lose an opportunity now or lose EVERYTHING. 

         ❝ Don’t. ❞ Whispered breathlessly into her lips, eyes closed for a second, their foreheads touching. It might be a matter of WEEKS before all this fades into a painful memory. FOREVER might be overrated, but at a certain age you just cannot afford to lose again. Not her. Not like this. BURY A FRIEND, run your fingers over a soulmate’s neck and leave a kiss imprinted on it like a burning mark. 

        A wordless confession. How could he not be INFATUATED, how could he not be hopelessly in love with her? But like this – no. Holding her in his arms just to let go forever. With an arm of steel and a punch to knock down anyone, but loving her requires more strength. 

[rippcrdoc]

@biochipped​ said:

❛ think you're papi chulo, don juan with those shades on all the time, huh? well—— ❜ snatches them from the bridge of his nose & sets them onto her face. two items of his she's wearing: an old 'night city devils boxing club coach t-shirt' for pajamas & now the reinforced wayfarers.

     ❝ RIGHT, ❞ he chuckles, allowing the glasses to be peeled off his face – she is the only one who wouldn’t get PUNCHED for the attempt. ❝ It’s not as if there was a ton of chemicals in the clinic, or destructive emissions from the equipment. ❞ Despite having installed more optical implants than he’d care to remember, Viktor uses NONE himself. The shades were supposed to serve for protection – they do, however, suit her well. Well enough to draw a smile from him. Arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her in closer to GENEROUSLY offer her a placement in his lap. Sometimes he feels like he could forgive any of her shenanigans way too easily. 

     Then again, what man could ever resist the sight of a gorgeous woman wearing his clothes? 

      ❝ Gonna need these for WORK, love. ❞  A brief, almost domestic kiss serves as a distraction – a second later the glasses return to their owner. 

[hcroc-deactivated20210613]

la familia’s all you need…

                        ‘cuz they’re all you got.

independant cp77 jackie welles. selective and private. 5+ years of rp experience. written by stella.

[theregoesmyblog]

                          ❝  𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾 𝗅𝖺 𝖾́𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗂𝖾́𝗇 𝗅𝖺 𝖾́𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺. ❞

                                      INDIE, SELECTIVE ANDRÉS DE FONOLLOSA                                             OF LA CASA DE PAPEL/MONEY HEIST

                                                             robbed by lana

[rippcrdoc]

biochipped·:

         𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐔𝐏. conceptualizes before usually agile frame touches his & the two topple in one absolute haphazard heap onto his floor. such purifying glow of kiroshioptics that haloed violet is a fine glow in the dimly lit 𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑫𝑹𝑶𝑷. trickles gaze up his face  —— fondly perusing every harsh curvature that was once therenow painted with age lines, ghost of a scar here or there.  & those 𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐄𝐋 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 eyes,despite being speckled glacier, conveys the warmest of looks.  they move ;eventually meeting her.

tough as old leather, viktoris.  he is not so susceptible to losing 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 underher lithe weight or heft ; they have practiced before & he’s made her feelquite 𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑳𝑳,physically, in the sheer rigidity of his merely blocking. ( an unstoppableforce meets an immovable object!! ) just how powerful a jab couldpotentially be, were he only to give as good as he’s gotten these past coupleof weeks.  but valheri? valheri, he never touches. never strikes, despiteher making the reasonable 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 thatsimulating an actual fighting match would help more than harm.  like anelastic band snaps, he’s allowed gravity ( & her scheme )to take the reigns.  …why?

could push her off, couldpull them both up & resume this little game of 𝑯𝑶𝑻 & 𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫.yet, the rather…compromising positioning they “find” themselves inlingers for far longer than what is socially acceptable for an accident. far longer than a well-placed 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 canassuage. & the profundity of the situation weighs fast on her. especially when highly perceptive skin makes out even the subtlest placement ofa loose rose-colored strand & then a multitude of feathery touches gracingclammy fabric & skin alike. his fingers leaving a trail of white-hot 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐒, asthough they are still there. shuddering like hypothermic bird.  their objective now, pushed to the furthestexpanse of her mind.

a sharp inhale darts betweenher teeth, tilts her head to meet him 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘. nonverbally tells him that he needn’t ever have to ask.  full lips making 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄,hands crawling broad shoulders, then to the sides of throat, palms overjugular.  his pulse.  thrumming 𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑰𝑫𝑳𝒀 againsther skin.  it is mutual.  the powerof obtaining what once was sought for?  intoxicating.

      IT STRIKES HIM LIKE A LIGHTNING BOLT, like a well-paced punch would strike, or a sharp knife stabbing into his chest. It strikes him suddenly and swiftly, the thought that escaped him before, because he chased it away, because he wanted it GONE. A jab most successful, a wound that’s unlikely to ever stop bleeding – as fingers trace every curve of her skin, the warmth of her touch flowing through his BLOODSTREAM, he almost wants to tell her. In any language they both would understand. Estoy enamorado de ti. He’d say it like this, were he a little more romantic.

      The sweet, cherry cola taste of her lips eliminates every effort made in the past. The agonizing difference between what they both want and what they need, fading away to succumb to A THING OF BEAUTY, like a goddamn Samurai lyric. Like something out of an old braindance. Tainted, venomous, alluring to the point of becoming irresistible. Irrevocable, too. 

      Hands sliding up her thighs to make sure she’s comfortable as he moves forward to sit up, with her in his lap, not breaking the contact – might lose his NERVE if he does,  if he pauses for a brief moment to reflect on the right and wrong of it all. Her pulse drumming under his touch, wherever his palms reach – PALPABLE and frantic, giving away her little ploy he fell for so foolishly, so easily. 

       A KISS planted onto the heated, pulsating skin of her neck – both sensual and adoring, before their lips meet again. It’s time for this game to end. Take the nearest exist or move to the next level. Before it drives him to the verge of INSANITY – though it might be too late to worry about that. 

      Fingers tangling in the melted rose gold of her hair, closer, almost desperately – that’s what months of futile self-deception do to a man. Twenty years younger. And completely, irreversibly surrendering his heart to her. 

[rippcrdoc]

Viktor’s only got eyes for one woman and he doesn’t need a special day to express that. 

[rippcrdoc]

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 // 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 // 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

@biochipped​ said:

woah! [in extending outward for a rapid right jab, falls on top of viktor] 👀👀

       SOME BATTLES ARE ONLY STARTED TO BE LOST – by both sides, inevitably, imminently. Back against the floor, and he is almost ready to admit defeat. Viktor’s strategy during their raining sessions has always been BLOCKING – as professional as he might be, as good as Val might be getting, it would feel like a crime to land a punch to her with his heavy arm. Rule number one – no wrestling, pushing or tripping. This, however, is not a boxing match – neither is the goal of these sessions. She is ready to get out there and win. 

       Her tanned skin, HEATED from exercising, so close – her slightly caught up breath in sync with his own, a glimmer in her eyes, locked with his. A breathless second. Two. Three. He allows the moment to linger. How much longer until it’s considered a KNOCKDOWN? How much longer can they play this game of catch and release? 

      Too close to ignore the rising, growing TENSION between them, too long to laugh it off and help her get up – gloves removed and pushed aside, a hand is raised to brush away a stray lock of PINK HAIR that managed to escape from her tight ponytail. SEVEN SECONDS. Fingers moving gently over the curve of her neck, towards her shoulder, gliding down her spine and pulling her a little closer. There is nothing he could say – it’s a damn good jab that she throws, even though it missed him. 

       The rapid pounding behind his ribcage speaks for him, better than words ever could. Involuntarily, perhaps, or as part of the universe’s grand plan, SHE DIDN’T MISS. An ephemeral, almost tanglible punch – right by the heart. Sixteen seconds. Time to surrender – the fight is over, they both lost. Or maybe, just maybe, they both WON. An inch closer, one more, as if asking for permission or expecting a sudden retraction on Valheri’s part. His palm rested on the back of her neck, until the distance between them is gone. Months of her flirtatious teasing and his retreating, NULLIFIED with a kiss. 

[splattermemes-deactivated202007]

training turned tension starters

Or more specifically, “two characters who have been sparring or in combat training together and almost kiss at the end of their practice fight”. As requested ! Feel free to make any changes.

“Is that the best you can do?”

“I won’t go easy on you.” / “I’ll go easy on you.” / “Quit going easy on me.”

“Hit me with your best shot.”

“You need to do better if you want to meet your goal.”

“I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.”

“Is this necessary?”

“Try again.”

“You’re pissing me off.” / “If you’re mad, why don’t you use your anger? Beat me at least once.”

“Here, let me show you how.”

“Woah! [falls on top of __]” 

“Nice moves.”

“[pins __ to floor]” / “[pins __ to wall]”

“You’re…really close right now.”

“G–get off of me.”

“You’re heavy.” / “You’re crushing me.”

“Sorry–are you okay?”

“You’re really red right now.”

“…Do we always end up on top of each other?”

“Are you still panting?”

“I told you, it was an accident.”

“…Why don’t you just kiss me?”

“I’ll consider kissing you if you can beat me.”

[rippcrdoc]

talzjan·:

The thought of leaving her heart on the cutting table made her throat close up, because as much as she wished she could tell Viktor how she saw him, as well as the fact he was like a father figure to her, it would feel like a goodbye. V was not ready to do that just yet, she was not ready to give up, no matter how many times her body had failed her, maybe something could be done. Or maybe she was grasping on to nothing and she had no choice in the end, but those were thoughts for another time, a time when she wasn’t around anyone. Sometimes it felt so strange to have friends, because she was so used to always being alone.

For a moment, she frowned, eyebrows knitting together as she pursed her lips then she sighed. “Where are you going to sleep, Vik?” Now it was her turn to give a stern expression or at least attempt to give one, he may be her ripperdoc, however, she wouldn’t allow him to sleep at his desk, like he usually did. “I have a blow up mattress at my apartment, I got it awhile ago, maybe I should bring it here.” She gave Vik a small smile,  trying to keep her tone light to signify that she was kind of joking, but the offer for him to have a proper bed was there, but it would also help since she had been in Viktor’s clinic more often then she had been in her own apartment, which kind of amused her. “Thank you, Vik. I can always count on you and someday, I’ll return the favour.” Sometimes she wondered what would have happened if Viktor hadn’t been her ripperdoc, would she be where she was today, if it were someone else? He had let her off the hook so many times, as well as saved her life when she needed it most. Having Jackie as a best friend really opened doors for her, and she hoped that maybe one day, she could thank him too.

      ❝ WORRY ‘BOUT YOURSELF FOR NOW, alright? ❞ There is always something to do at the clinic – tools to sanitize, equipment to check, a fight to watch. The one that was on while she was checking out in the chair. FALLING ASLEEP at his desk wouldn’t be untested waters, neither would be staying up all night, keeping busy. There are no appointments scheduled for tomorrow anyway – hasn’t been many since he had to revert to his emergency surgery career instead of casually installing cyberware. Could be of use, too. Keeping an eye on her, in case some tactless fixer calls in the middle of the night. 

       Some say having a family, as metaphorical as it may be in his case, is a BLESSING. V here is more of a CURSE, a barely walking disaster. But she has something about her that makes him care – more than for anyone else. Maybe he still sees a reflection of Jackie in her, given how much the two of them have – had – in common. Maybe he’s really grown old and sentimental.   ❝ No need to thank me, kid. Just... when you decide to drag that mattress here, make sure you’re not on the verge of FLATLINING. ❞ To think about it, Viktor hasn’t seen her come here without an emergency since she first settled on installing some optics. That’s a lot of room for improvement. He only wishes he could do more – there is little he can SAY to her, not much of emotional support he can offer, that was never something he was good at. Apparently, his job now, too. 

[soulmemesarc]

cracks in the armor

just like. emotional prompts, vague and used to express those moments where the muse is breaking down and the filter is gone.

" i screwed up... i-i screw-- i screwed up so bad... "

" i'm sorry! "

" i-i didn't mean for any of this to happen... "

" i can't believe i dragged you into this. "

" it's all true. all the awful things they said about me/you. they're all true... "

" it was me, okay?! i did it! i'm the reason why you're in this mess! "

" you deserve better than this... "

" none of us are getting out of this. are we? "

" i, uh... for the first time in my life, i don't have a plan. "

" i'm scared. "

" i killed him/her/them. "

" goddamnit! don't you ever do that to me again! i was terrified something had happened to you! "

" i... i am begging you... don't do this. "

" i just need someone to hold me. someone to tell me everything's going to be okay... "

" why are you even here?! "

" i break everything i touch! "

" i don't know what i'm doing... "

" you're still here. why? haven't you seen enough to know that's the biggest mistake you'll ever make? "

" i did this... "

" please... please, help me. "

" i... i had nowhere else to go... "

" i don't know how i got here. i don't... i just remember walking. and now i'm here. and you're here... "

" i... i did something really bad... "

" what have you done?! "

" you can tell me to go, i just... i just really need... i don't even KNOW what i need... "

" i'm a bad person. "

" you don't deserve any of this. i'm... i'm so sorry i dragged you into this mess... "

[rippcrdoc]

Currently on my V blog. Feel free to send stuff both here and there!

[rippcrdoc]

biochipped·:

         𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓, fuchsia hair covering facial features as her brain tick away in analysis.  she could tell, what is going through his mind right that instant ; a garden of contradictions. ( from one extreme to the next!! ) feels the spasms in his biceps as he holds her.  tight.  does he squeeze her out like a 𝑮𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑹𝑷𝑬𝑵𝑻 until every atom of oxygen leaves her body?  or hold her like she were 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔 with gentler ministrations?  in the eye of the 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐎, of his sentiments, the single most notion v has in her favor is the irrefutable fact that ( in his heart of hearts ) viktor would never turn her away  ——  o bless his beautiful spirit.  

from a reasonable, rational school of thought & 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 ; viktor is stability, calm waters.  crisp air in the dawn after it rains with a taste of 𝑷𝑬𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑯𝑶𝑹 on your tongue.  & she?  she’s chaos.  like a gale engulfing an entire shore, or a volcano turning the entire sky black. ( where poetry, the art, is in the screaming, in dying. )  & continues to bring that 𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐇𝐄𝐌 to his doorstep.  

you could show me the door & end it right now… 

quiet.  so quiet one could, if it occurred, hear a 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐈𝐍 drop. he has her rapt attention in the drawback where he peels his slick, black & reinforced wayfarer shades from his face.  𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑪 𝑩𝑳𝑼𝑬 with speckles of teal & seafoam.  so piercing.  intense.  the first incision makes her heart rattle inside the cage of bones.  red capillaries rushing in at a rapid rate to translate 𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅.  still, mustering the very last iota of dignity she’s left ( & the decency ) to reciprocate the gaze.  reflective, violet eyes becoming a shade of 𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒 as she’s guided away from the gate.

❛ ——i… ❜ pauses, powdered eyes lower & 𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒 her pride ( because she’s wanted to swell up & argue ), nods slowly,  ❛ not my intention going forward.  promise.  i guess i just didn’t want to always lean on you for every single bump & bruise.  figured you finally got tired of me.  after our last conversation, ❜

as a calming mechanism, she tugs on his 𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑰𝑼𝑴, shoulders.  laces exposed skin with touches, a slow process.  like she’d always imagined she would.

❛ if you haven’t already noticed,  i’m crazy about you, you gonk. ❜

…but something tells me you want to see what will happen. 

      WHEN YOU STAND IN THE EYE OF THE STORM, the storm will eventually lay its eyes on you. When you gaze into the abyss long enough, the abyss will gaze into you. She has the most fascinating eyes, HIS ABYSS – violet, with a neon outline of the Kiroshis installed by his hand. Impossible to look away, impossible to believe the words she utters – he thought it was the most obvious thing in the world, the way he’s always ACHED for her. How he’d offer her a hand, any time, day or night, until the end of time, as long as she needs it. 

      Heart on his sleeve, ripped at every edge, an open wound that might never stop BLEEDING – some things don’t need saying. Some things are better reflected in the eyes than they are in words – Viktor was never good at this, emotional stuff, TALKING. His approach is pragmatic, purely practical — 

           I’ve got nothing to say, just tell me what to do. 

      A SMILE tugging at the corners of his lips, thumb brushing gently over hers – he almost shakes his head in chiding, well-deserved, too. ❝ We’ll have to check your Kiroshis. With tech like that, how can you be so BLIND? ❞ 

      The day he realizes he’s tired of her would be the day the Earth stops turning. The helpless exhaustion tormenting him that day, upon seeing her like that – part of his PRAGMATISM. Push her over the edge. Renounce his last hopes of saving her. SAY GOODBYE to avoid saying SORRY. Tired of her torment, tired of his own useless stupor, but never of her.

     ❝ If you fall, I’ll be there to catch you. ❞  But he cannot always HOLD HER long enough to break the fall. That’s the point. That’s the reason behind his reluctance, his QUALM. Her touch burns under his skin – every exposed inch her fingers trace. He’s noticed. Both to his relief and his turmoil, he’s noticed it so long ago – the way she looked at him, the way the warmth of her skin often overwhelmed him at close proximity, her words, her smiles, her sense of humor. He never stopped SEEING HER. As she was. As she remains still. 

      Here and now, heart open and mind wide shut. Fall into my arms. 

      ❝ Let me catch you. ❞  

      Gonk was probably fair. 

[lanturn-left-this-blog-deactiva]

The person I reblogged this from is someone I enjoy seeing on my dashboard.