skycaptainkai
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“Don’t you think you’d be better off with someone who can return those feelings?” I ventured.
“Why? I don’t need anyone to stroke my ego. If anything, I need someone who can knock me down a peg.”
“Seivarden, I’m serious.”
“So am I. You jumped off a bridge for me when you hated me. Now you barely like me, and I’ve got you naked in my bed. I can’t even imagine what would happen if you loved me. The thought terrifies me.”
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ART was unhappy with my decision to return to Preservation Station. “Unhappy” was putting it mildly. In a word, ART was pissed, and if we didn’t have Preservation humans aboard (who wanted to go home and would probably consider themselves kidnapped if they ended up anywhere else) I was pretty sure I would be kidnapped by now. Instead, I was enduring the long trip home (is Preservation “home” now?) with a Pissed Off Research Transport (PORT?) who was alternating between moody silences and strategic attempts to manipulate me into staying.
(ART and Murderbot talk about their
relationshipREDACTED.) -
Be Here When I Wake by skycaptainkai
Fandoms: The Locked Tomb Series | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
29 Jan 2024
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“You’re real,” and “It’s really you,” were the only coherent words Harrow could form for a while. She clung to Gideon’s solid frame with no regard for the blood-spattered uniform, only pulling back occasionally to look at her and touch her face just to make sure. Gideon’s shoulder pads were soaked with tears, drool, and snot by the time Harrow began to get a grip on herself, but she was well past any sense of shame. That was a good thing because she eventually became aware that she was wearing only a thin hospital gown and it was hiked up around her thighs, which were straddling Gideon’s in a truly indecent manner. If Gideon hadn’t been dead, Harrow was sure her face would’ve been flushed deep maroon.
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Which Was, Of Course, I Love You by skycaptainkai
Fandoms: The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt, The Goldfinch (2019)
29 Sep 2021
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Finally, I said, “Wow,” which was always my go-to when I was speechless.
He nodded as if I’d voiced something profound. “Yeah. So, we are better in small doses, I think. Like with your pills and my needles. Just a fix, once in a while. Not addicts. See what I mean? We need space.” He waved a hand to indicate the small distance between us on the couch.
I laughed again, more out of befuddlement than humor. “This still sounds very much like a break up.”
He sighed and leaned his head back for a minute, while I examined his shadowy profile, his elegant hooked nose. “Okay, fine. Maybe it is break up.”
“But we’re not…”
“Are we not?” he cut me off, lifting his head to fix me with his sharp, dark gaze.
I stared back at him blankly, mouth hanging open, like an idiot. He rolled his eyes at my expression and muttered, “Jesus Christ, Potter.” Then he reached over to grasp me by the back of the neck and kissed me.