Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“What did you do?” Till asked as he pulled smoothly away from the little house Vissa was acutely aware she was going to have to avoid for a good long while. She also knew that Till probably already knew full well what she had done to her mother, but was asking Vissa to retrace the steps of her spell so she would understand her own actions a bit better.

“Creative rewiring. She thinks she fell because the clock fell on her and she lost a few days.” Vissa paused, observing her own detached composure with a critical eye. Oh, she was going to cry about this later. But even she wasn’t sure when later would be. “I took her back to when we had a fight and I said I wouldn’t see her.”

“Nice touch.”

“Solves a lot of issues. I’m sure she’ll wonder about the fucking knife in her wall but I couldn’t do anything about that.”

“Still, what you did was beyond your training. Maybe even beyond your skill with that Block.” Till mused, downshifting smoothly to a stoplight where he reached for her hand. Vissa gave it freely, wrapping her fingers around his forearm when the light changed and he needed to shift again.

“What did you find out about the Block?”

“I’ve got a good idea who it is, but I haven’t seen them in years. I’ll have to ask around.” Till started to slow, preparing to pull into one of the driveways on the Kallio street. This was one of the rare residential streets so close to the city center that still had detached homes at its end instead of apartment buildings or row homes. One of them was even an embassy. “What I do know is that your mother loved you very much to go through all that rather than just kill you.”

“I don’t want to think about that - I’m so angry about everything.”

“You don’t seem it.”

“Yeah, it’s my superpower. Temporary emotional shutdown.” Vissa leaned her head back against the headrest, eyes screwed shut. “It’ll all come rushing back later.”

“That’s very Finnish of you,” Till murmured as he pulled up to an elaborate wrought iron gate. It began to slowly open just as he pulled up to it, just in time so that they didn’t have to stop and wait. “Welcome to Castle Valo,”

Well, it wasn’t so much a castle as a brownstone-style home with a little tower of sorts to one side, but it was impressive. Till came to a stop in the suspiciously empty driveway across from the front door and put the car in park. He reached for her arm before she could get out, looking at her over the center console with concern in his eyes.

“Vissa. Are you ok?”

“I’m overwhelmed. I’ll be fine.” She patted his hand for a moment before she clambered out of the car, knuckling the small of her back. She was getting too old for long haul flights - a thought that struck her as particularly hilarious because Till had offered her a hand. She accepted it, letting him pull her to his side as he offered her a lit cigarette.

“Inside?”

“Have you ever heard of Ville? Cigarettes are one of his personality traits.” Till laughed as he pushed open the grandiose wood door.

The front hall was at least two stories tall - Vissa could see a wrought iron landing as she craned her neck upward. Till set about relieving her of her coat as she looked around, and she realized it was a little chillier in this castle than she would have liked. As if sensing that she was cold - or maybe catching sight of a shiver - the burly German wrapped his arm around her bare shoulders, hugging her tight to his side.

He didn’t bellow or call out, but she could feel him reach out with his consciousness to look for Ville’s. It occurred to Vissa that she had never asked if the ability to feel someone else use their powers was normal, and she voiced the comment aloud as Till led her to the well-appointed kitchen. It was too clean, which gave Vissa the impression that Ville wasn’t much of a chef.

“Well, that depends.” Till considered, stealing her smoke to light his. “You can feel my mental power?”

“Yeah, like I can tell when you’re reaching out.”

“That isn’t as normal, no. But sensing when someone is Casting isn't unusual.” He put his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the countertop to sit, legs dangling. It was her favorite spot in any kitchen, probably because Joanna had always told her no butts on the countertops growing up.

“What’s not normal?” From the shadow of an anonymous doorway emerged a reedy man, tall and whip-thin with a head full of brown unruly curls and a toothy grin. His voice, much like Till’s, was a deep baritone, and she had the sudden urge to lean her head against his narrow chest and listen to him talk. Why was that?

“What is he doing?” Vissa asked Till, her hand on the burly German’s shoulder to keep him close. Till looked confused. “I feel abnormally attracted to him. It’s fucking weird.”

“Ville, really? You don’t want to piss this one off,” Till waved a hand before it fell on hers on his shoulder. The feeling disappeared as abruptly as it had started. “He uses it at bars. Always gets the mortal ladies.”

“Cute.” Vissa murmured, trying not to glare sullenly at Ville as Till slipped from under her hand to greet the man he considered his brother.

“I didn’t think you were bringing a guest tonight,” Ville mused, clapping his lanky arms around Till’s expansive back. She could sense they were having a private mental conversation, and knew that she could eavesdrop if she really wanted, but she let them have their moment.

She reached back for the ash tray on the center of the counter and pulled it toward her so she could ash into it. She was going to need another one at some point. And a big drink.

“Vi, meet Ville. Ville, Vissa.”

“He doesn’t know what to call you, darling.” Ville had lit a cigarette of his own, and offered her a hand to shake. Vissa took it, shaking it firmly. He Read her quickly, and the pins and needles felt like they washed over her and receded like a wave. “Interesting suits her, though.”

“Right here. Interesting person is present.” Vissa frowned, looking between Ville’s big green eyes and Till’s dark blues. Till swooped in past Ville to wrap his arms around her waist, his hips between her legs. Oh, she wished he wouldn’t tease her like that, even if it was only because Till felt the need to claim her body as his in front of his friend. Not without his Glamour on. Fuck, she could shave cheese with those cheekbones...

“Would the interesting person like a drink?” Till asked, grinning like he knew exactly where her mind had gone. She felt him come to the side of her consciousness, brushing against it to give her a vision of what he was seeing - the lust in her eyes. Vissa couldn’t help but laugh along with Till, apparently was it grasping what the possessive display meant.

“Yes, yes, drinks! And food?” Ville clapped his hands, his voice bright behind a beaming smile, but Vissa got the feeling he didn’t like not being the center of attention. It was something about the way that big grin wasn’t quite reaching his eyes.

Chapter Text

Three mixed beverages and one 0900 pizza order later, and Vissa was lounging on one of Ville’s expansive couches with her feet in Till’s lap, enjoying a lonkero from a can for the first time in a long time.

“So a Finnish girl,”

“Born and raised right here,” Vissa turned her head to Ville, an eyebrow quirked. He was a weird dude - overtly sexual and very possessive of Till, she had found. She wasn’t entirely sure why Ville felt the need to compete with her for Lindemann’s attention, but she would imagine it stemmed from their upbringing together. Or maybe Ville was just that way. “It seems I can’t stay away.”

“Not really your choice, schatz,” Till said as he rubbed the arch of her foot with his thumbs, pausing intermittently to take a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, the devil made me do it.” Vissa stuck her tongue out at the burly man, which made Ville laugh.

“I don’t think that’s the first time Till’s been called the devil,” Ville commented dryly in Finnish.

“Likely not the last, either.” Vissa shot back.

“English. Or German. None of this Finnish shit or I’m going to have to listen to someone’s mind.” Till pinched her big toe a little harder than was friendly.

“Ouch!” Vissa started to yank her foot away but Till went back to rubbing it gently, a harsh juxtaposition to his wicked grin.

“And you want me to teach her?” Ville was focused on Till now, an eyebrow raised.

“I think she wants you to teach her, Ville. Vissa needs to be taught.” Till glanced over at her. “She’s stronger than both of us.”

There was a long pause where Vissa could feel Ville speaking to Till, mind to mind.

“I’m not just saying that because I like her.” Apparently Till wasn’t going to bite on the private conversation. “Fuck, Ville. She’s not a bimbo. I’m not ‘just fucking’ her. Knock it off.”

“Fine. Fine!” Ville threw up his hands, bringing the private half of the conversation back to the public. He sighed, leaning back into his chair with a drink in hand. “Show me what you know, then.”

“I’m sorry?” Vissa was caught off guard as Ville turned his entire attention to her. He was a man of extremes, she was finding, much like their home country. She sighed and reached out mentally, brushing gently against Till’s consciousness on her way to touch the fringes of Ville’s mind, asking to be invited in rather than pressing.

She found him resistant to her touch. Vissa looked up at the green-eyed singer with a frown, and found him wearing a wry smile. Oh, that fucker. Fine. She considered the fortress of his mind, seeking an easy entrance - a door left open, a crack in the facade - and finding none. Fine, fucking fine. She would just have to get creative. And Vissa was plenty creative.

Vissa felt like she was sizing him up like she was about to pole vault over his mind. It was too logical. Instead, she flattened her consciousness and squeezed under his wall like a rat through a tiny crack under a door, compressing her mind until she passed through into his.

Till’s grip on her feet tightened and threatened to pull her out of her concentration. It she didn’t have to focus so much to stay in Ville’s mind she could have afforded the distraction. As it were, she shifted to sit with her feet under her, looking at Ville.

Vissa invited herself into his mind, admiring its castle-like halls. There was a similarity to Till’s, likely Odessa’s influence. She felt like she was wandering down the halls of Ville’s mind, looking for an open door. Why? She chose one and pushed through.

She found a jarring memory of Ville having incredibly rough sex with a strange woman - accompanied by his mental laughter as she tried to back out of the memory. He held her there for a moment longer than she wanted to before he released her. Vissa was a visitor here. This wasn’t her show, and he had control over whatever he wanted if she wasn’t careful.

Vi let him carry her through a few other lewd memories before she balked and started to backtrack against Ville’s will. He wanted to see what she could do? She would show him what she could do.

She pushed out of his memory path, and pressed her consciousness down and back through his will. She knew what she was looking for - Ville’s version of Odessa. She managed to catch him in the woman’s bedroom, feeling tentative and upset before the man ejected her forcefully from his mind.

The abrupt push left Vissa back in her own body, feeling shocked.

“Mein herz,” Till was stroking her hair, and Vi realized her head was in his lap.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh, I think you gave Ville quite the fright.” Till murmured. Vissa realized he wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t focused on her at all. His consciousness was in Ville’s mind, she could tell.

“I’m sorry. He asked -“

“You delivered, mein schatz.” He was still distant. Instead of pressing them, Vissa let herself drift off in his lap, her mind wandering. God she was so tired, how was Till still so awake?

Chapter Text

Vissa woke up to Till stroking her cheek - not a bad way to wake up, really. She reached up to toy with one of his eyebrow piercings, which made the man smile.

“Food’s here.” He murmured, helping her sit up.

“I have a headache,” Vissa admitted, wondering which of her bags had her painkillers in it. As she considered the recesses of a bag she packed what seemed like weeks ago, she could feel Till pressing against the fringes of her mind. She let him in, following along as he jetted right to the source of her pain. It was a quick unraveling, and Vissa gasped with relief as the pain in her head dissipated. She made a mental note to finally practice that trick later.

“Food, a hot shower, a little magick, and you’ll be right as rain.” There was the hint of a wink in his voice. The pain in her head was gone, but her body was still tired or she would have jumped him that moment.

“Gonna help me wash my back?” Vissa asked as she leaned on his shoulder to stand.

“Could be convinced.” Till wrapped his hands around her waist, holding her hips to his. He leaned in for a kiss and she obliged him, pressing her lips to his for a long, quiet moment.

Wow she was attached to this guy. How did that happen? A big, gnarly-looking German dude, a hundred-plus-year-old Caster who sang about sex and death and all manner of other taboo subjects for a living? She couldn’t put a finger on why she was so drawn to Till Lindemann, but she wondered what they were going to do - where were they going to go from here?

“You know you can ask me,” Till murmured against her lips, surprising her.

“Ask you what?” Vissa asked, momentarily confused.

“These questions you keep asking yourself. About us.”

“What makes you think I’m asking these questions?” She murmured, chewing his lip instead of hers as she pondered.

“You have the worst poker face.” Till laughed, steering her toward the kitchen. “Still. We should talk about it if you’re worried.”

Vissa paused so he bumped into her, reaching back for his hands. Till gave them freely. He wrapped her fingers through his, clearly waiting for her to say something. Vissa considered for a moment before she reached out to touch his mind. He let her in, but she paused again how to mentally phrase this? How did she show him her concerns, the things she thought were too sappy to say aloud.

He waited patiently, holding her hands in his, his chin propped on her head.

She finally just bit the bullet and projected her thought - her, sitting alone in Helsinki, waiting. Him, on tour, surrounded by women. The implication was that he was banging them all.

Till pulled her back to his mind as he pulled her closer to his chest, wrapping both of their arms around her stomach. His projection was of her not waiting, of taking advantage of his being gone. Till made her feel like it was something temporary, but where was the end? Would they continue to pass like ships in the night? It didn’t feel right.

“I can’t teach you. Not when I feel this way about you.” He muttered quietly. She felt his words more than heard them, really, his chest pressed firmly against her back.

“What is the way you feel?” Vissa’s own voice was barely a whisper, she felt like she could cut her own tension with a knife. He smiled against the crown of her head.

“I’m old enough to know when things are better left unsaid. You still have a lot of mortal left in you. You should enjoy that while you can. And learn everything you can from Ville.” Till murmured, rubbing her hands with his thumbs. “And eat some pizza.”

“But I’m selfish and I want you for myself,” She protested as he squeezed her hard, taking both of her hands in one of his. His free hand reached to flip down her septum ring before he turned her cheek.

“Trust me, mein liebling. There’s a lot of me that’s all yours.” He kissed her deeply over her shoulder, slightly sideways but very passionate just the same. “Now. Let’s eat. This is why you’re tired.”

“And I can hear Ville laughing at us.”

“Ville will always laugh at us.” Till said, steering her into the kitchen with his hands on her hips. “He thinks he love is a mortal notion.”

Vissa decided not to say anything about Till’s mention of love, but filed it away in the “left unsaid” box.

“So incredibly mortal. Just like talking about foolish things while your food gets cold.” Ville teased, sitting cross-legged in the kitchen counter with a slice in hand.

“Private conversation, Ville.” Till shot back, helping Vissa onto the counter with his hands on her waist. It was starting to seem like it was his favorite place to put them.

“Yeah, a dumb one. Mortals are the ones that dedicate themselves to one another. We don’t do that. Dark Casters don’t do that.” Ville opened the pizza box for Vissa, who reached for a slice of cheese.

“I think that’s a very Light thing of you to say. The tenant is ‘do what thou wilt,’ Ville.” Till countered, taking a slice of pizza. “And Vissa isn’t Dark.”

“She isn’t Light.” Ville countered hotly. Which was a little tell - perhaps he didn’t mind the notion of teaching her as much as he pretended to. Not if she was going to turn out “Light.”

“You both know I’m standing right here, right?” Vissa sighed, focusing on her food. It always frustrated her when people talked about her like she wasn’t present, and somehow it happened to her a lot more than seemed normal. Maybe it was the fact that she had taken to hanging around really, really old men recently.

Till glanced at her with a sad shake of his head, but Ville’s attention didn’t move from her face. With a sigh, Vissa took a cigarette from her pack and trailed out onto the back porch as she lit it. She didn't need to leave the kitchen to have a cigarette, but the tension was just too sharp to stay.

It was warm outside, which was to say she could bear the chill in the air as she leaned on the railing, thinking about the abrupt turns her life had made.

Honestly, she had thought Ville’s teaching was more of a sure thing than it was turning out to be. Vissa had staked her career on it, with applications to Finnish news outlets, PR firms, the like. Left the city she loved - though she wasn’t sure staying there was an option. In short, she was disappointed by what she had found in Helsinki.

Vi sighed, running her free hand through her hair as she finished her cigarette, considering another one. Inside, she could see that Ville and Till were still locked in a stare down.

Well, it wasn’t worth another cigarette and waiting. Vi brushed by the pair on her way up to the bedroom to spend some time with her suitcase - and maybe the bed.

Chapter Text

“I’m just not sure he likes me enough to teach me,” Vissa muttered as she traced patterns on Till’s chest. “Much less let me stay his house.”

Ville had commanded the pair to bed, citing the fact that if Vissa was to really immerse herself in Helsinki counterculture they were going to have to go out that night. Vissa wasn't so sure it was a good idea, but she needed to endear herself to Ville, so she'd do it. And she wanted to show Till off a little. While she had him.

“He’ll warm up to you.” Till murmured as he patted her head into his chest. “Come on, you need some rest,”

“Yeah, tell that to my anxiety. I’m going thousands of miles an hour right now.” She sighed as she rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. It was pitch black in the borrowed bedroom - which would be her bedroom for the foreseeable future, until she found a mortal job and a place to live. Till had gotten Ville to agree to that much at least. She had a feeling that Ville was making a show of not liking Vissa because he was used to having Till's undivided attention.

“You’ve been through a lot since you left Boston,” What Till really meant was since they landed in Helsinki, Vissa mused. Till shifted to look at her with his head propped on his fist. “Do you want to take a break tonight? Stay in with me - or by yourself, that’s fine too.”

“No, Till, I need to get out and see folks. I’m excited to. I just wish I had answers.”

“What are your questions?” Vi glanced up at him, an eyebrow raised. Where could she even start? How would he possibly have all the answers? Till apparently knew the exact direction where Vissa's mind had wandered. "I don't have all the answers, Vi. But I may have some.”

“My mother’s a Witch Hunter. What does that mean? Does it mean she’s killed... us? Our kind?” Vissa sighed, trying not to sound too fatalistic. Till grimaced like he didn’t want to answer her questions, his shoulders tense.

“Unfortunately. She seemed talented - her materials, the way she handled her weapon. Do you remember her going out a lot late at night? Long trips to places that you wouldn’t usually vacation?” Vissa reached to touch his shoulders, prompting the man to turn in her grasp. Till took her direction willingly so she could rub his shoulders, digging into a tough knot with her thumb.

“What do you mean by places you wouldn’t usually vacation?”

“Offbeat destinations at weird times of the year. Things that are... atypical.”

“This is going to shock you but I’m a bit atypical myself. I like those places when nobody’s there,”

“I see that.” Till laughed. “I’m glad your mother decided to Block you instead of getting rid of the alternative. They don’t often take pity on us.”

“Is that why you take pity on them?” Vissa asked, thinking about how filled with murderous rage she had been until Till had called out to her, telling her not to kill her mother. It would have been a terrible mistake, one she wasn’t sure she would have been able to live with.

“Not always good at it. But I try to.”

“Why?”

“I’m old, Vi,” Till rolled onto his back with a sigh as if to emphasize his point. “An eye for an eye doesn’t always work.”

Vissa twisted her fingers in his, shifting to fit herself into his burly side.

“Now, what other questions do you have?” Till asked as he stretched, taking her much smaller hand in his burly paw.

“Who put the Block on me? What is their name?”

“That’s the thing. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s someone I am completely certain is dead.” Vissa cocked an eyebrow, begging him to continue. “She said it was Odessa. Which causes a lot of problems.”

“Odessa?” Vissa parroted, surprised as Till nodded.

“I’m not sure what to make of it. I buried her.”

“I saw,” Vissa squeezed his hand where it lay on his chest, their fingers still entwined.

“Ville isn’t sure either.” He shifted to pull her close into his chest, holding her hand in his around her back. “It does make it easier for us to take care of your block.”

“Till... it’s all so strange. It feels contrived.”

“Life gets that way sometimes when you’re my age.” He shrugged and released her hand. Vissa went back to tracing the hair on his chest, his abs. Fuck did she wish he would stop reminding her how old he was.

“It makes me feel kind of... inferior.” She admitted, her hand flat on his chest. “Being so young and mortal, I mean.”

“Don’t say that.” Till reached to tilt her chin up to his. “It doesn’t make you lesser at all.”

Vissa let herself sink into his kiss, rolling onto his chest. Sure, it was a little cheap to let him distract her with kisses and sweet nothings, but she needed something else to focus on.

“Don’t get too frisky, mein schaz, you need rest.”

“And you don’t?” Vi asked, leaning her head back against his shoulder and turning so she could press her lips against his jaw. For all his protests that she needed to sleep, Till only smiled as she reached behind her to slip her fingers under the waistband of his underwear.

Even though she had him on the plane not more than twelve hours ago - and it was fucking wild how much had happened since he showed up on her doorstep two days ago - Vissa craved him. She had the sense that she was developing a permanent itch that only Till would be able to scratch.

Thankfully, he was already reaching for it. With one hand, Till pushed his hand down her abdomen, reaching down the front of her pants to press the thick pad of his finger to her clit. Vissa reached up over her head to run her fingers through his thick hair, scratching the back of his neck as he kissed the crux of her neck and shoulder.

Till moaned against her shoulder before he pushed down her pants and underwear again, enough to part her legs. From behind, he parted her lips with a finger and pushed himself inside her, filling her so fully that she shuddered.

Fuck, he was exquisite.

After a few thrusts, he shifted positions, prompting her to sit in his lap to ride his dick. He pressed her breasts together as she rode him, his lips soft against her nipples. Ah, so he was leaving her in charge, Vi realized as she pushed her fingers through his hair, holding him tightly as she found her rhythm. Till released her slightly to let her ride him, his face skimming her chest.

“Vissa,” His murmur had a desperate note that drove her wild. Till tilted his hips to push the head of his dick into the spot that made Vissa's toes start to curl. For a moment, she didn’t have a care in the world, no worries about finding a job, a home, the fact that she could do magick. His touch was all the magick she needed.

“Vissa,” Till whispered her name again, his voice hoarse and pleading. “Vissa, I need you.”

“Come for me Till,” She wasn’t far behind, that familiar warmth spreading from somewhere behind her belly button. Vissa let her head tip back between her shoulders, her hair - which had somehow come loose - tickling her back. Till came into her hard, but she didn’t stop - couldn’t stop riding him. She was right there. His hands were tight on her hips, probably because he was sensitive after his finish, but just when his groan started to sound a little pained she found what she was looking for and let it wash over her.

Vissa shivered as Till’s mind merged with the edges of hers, gently twining together. It felt much more intimate than holding hands, this closeness. He held her mind as they disentangled to get cleaned up, and when she laid her head on his shoulder to fall asleep.

Chapter Text

“Shouldn’t you be dressed? At least a little?”

Vissa looked down at the leggings and borrowed t-shirt she wore, feigning surprise. Ville had caught her sneaking a cigarette and a glass of water in the kitchen while she waited for her opportunity to use the room to get ready. Till was taking up their bathroom, and she had felt the need to vacate the room for a few minutes to keep the magic of their new relationship alive.

“What, this isn’t good enough?” She asked Ville sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest to protect her erect nipples from his hungry gaze. “Tilly needed to use the bathroom.”

“And you?”

“Needed to avoid undue trauma.” Vissa refilled her glass from the fridge, waiting a long moment as Ville reached into the fridge for food, interrupting the stream of water from the spout. She frowned at the man, resisting the urge to tap her foot impatiently.

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Ville commented dryly, leaning against the counter with a slice of pizza in hand.

“I guess that’s one less competitor.” She tried not to laugh as she deadpanned, an eyebrow raised. They both knew that Ville was absolutely competing with Vissa for Till’s attention, and Vissa reckoned his standoffish behavior was due to the fact that Vissa was easily winning the competition. Why did it have to be a competition at all, Vissa mused as she finished her water in the overwhelming silence that followed. Ville was more than a hundred years old, shouldn’t he have grown out of childish shit? The thought made Vissa sigh as set the cup in the sink. “Alright, well I’m going to go get dressed,”

“Vissa,” Ville set his pizza down almost begrudgingly, and leaned forward to brace his hands on his gangly knees. She felt she was being inspected by the man, his bright green eyes narrowed. “I don’t dislike you.”

“Well that’s good to know. You made my day.” Enough with this posturing bullshit, Vissa thought dryly as she waited. If she wasn’t so engrained in it herself, she would have said as much out loud. Unfortunately, it was imperative that Ville like her. “Anything else?”

“Till’s right. You have potential. But it’s just that. I don’t want his compliments to go to your head.” Vissa turned toward the door, waving a hand as she set off toward the door.

“It’s kind of a nice change from the guys I usually sleep with, but don’t worry. I take literally all cynicism to heart.” Vissa tried not to flounce off or fume as she hit the stairs.

Till was dressing when she got back to their borrowed bedroom, standing with just a towel around his waist as he arranged his clothes. It was a glorious sight, one Vi found herself wishing she could grow used to. Damn she was going to miss that man. As it were, she dragged a fingertip across his broad shoulders while she passed by him on her way to her suitcases. She had already laid out what she would wear, but she needed to put on her face.

The burly German was stomping into his boots as she finished up her quick face routine, wondering if she should add a little more drama for the occasion. She shot a formation of her thought to Till mentally, and found him standing behind her, considering her face and her makeup bag in the mirror with a critical eye. Usually warm when they fell on her, those bright blue eyes were piercing and cold as they considered.

“Maybe a little darker?” He focused back on her face, an eyebrow quirked. “I liked what you wore for your party.”

“Fuck, that was... almost yesterday.” She realized as Till planted a kiss on the corner of her jaw.

“Time flies. Meet you downstairs?”

“How are we getting there?” Vi asked, thinking of her shoe choice. Her motorcycle booties were alright for walking in, but she could do better. Maybe her Docs instead? It seemed like trying to find an outfit, but Vissa knew that if she didn’t cut herself off at some point she would end up unpacking her shit into the wardrobe in her bedroom while Till and Ville waited for her to get ready.

“Public transportation. Or an Uber. Ville doesn’t drive and I’d rather not.” Till’s fingertips slid along her jaw, tilting her lips to his.

“Oh? Planning on getting smashed?” Vi murmured before she let her lips meet his for a long, passionate kiss before Till stepped away to retrieve his coat.

“This is a rowdy crowd. And I tend to drink a lot when I’m jealous,” Till winked as he rifled through the pockets of his pea coat, emptying them onto the comforter that he must have smoothed out while she was downstairs.

“Who are you going to be jealous of?” Vissa got to work on the actual unpacking portion of her getting ready process, piling likes with likes on the comforter. She intended to shove them in drawers before they left. Maybe not so neatly, but sorted at the least.

“Everyone you’re about to flirt with, of course.” It seemed Till had spent just enough time with her to see that she maintained her introvert status for about two drinks.

“Mm, but that’s not fair. You’re Till Lindemann.”

“Who will be in full Glamour tonight.” He sounded salty about that, but it was because humans would likely be in close contact with him at a bar. It made sense. And Till maintained that it was itchy to wear for long periods of time.

“Aw, schade. Why don’t you just wear the old hag costume instead?” She murmured, focused on blending shades of grey and black into her eyelids.

“Can I borrow it?”

Vi turned, arm cocked back like she was going to throw the brush at him. She found Till leaning through the door, grinning until he ducked all the way through, calling that he would meet her downstairs and not to dawdle.

“Dawdle my ass,” She murmured to the mirror darkly.

Chapter Text

Public transportation in Helsinki was nothing to shake a stick at. In Vissa’s very educated opinion, it had all the comforts of home plus some German-style efficiency without Boston’s tendency to balk at the existence of snow. Till and Ville did not feel the same, she found, and for very valid reasons. Ville had his own following, but he was regularly out and about in Helsinki and people were used to seeing him. Till, on the other hand, hadn’t been there in recent memory, and it showed. He was asked for autographs and selfies at least three times before they even got on one of Helsinki’s lovely streetcars.

In the train car, he reached for her hand, but eventually had to give it up to oblige a few fans between stops. Wow were people ever persistent, Vissa mused as another group of people recognized the famous Till Lindemann - and then Ville Valo in close proximity. Maybe her distaste had to do with being between them in the small car and having to contort herself to get out of the way every time someone wanted to say hello to both of the musicians and beg for a selfie with both of them.

“You have no poker face,” Ville murmured into her ear, and Vi realized abruptly that she was frowning deeply. She probably had ruined a few selfies with her scowl.

“Well, fuck.” Ville ruffled her hair with a brilliant smile, probably happy to have caught her in a moment of weakness. Vissa shook her head to right it, relaxing the muscles around her mouth to at least be a flat expression rather than an outright scowl. “Where are we going, anyway?”

“To my second favorite bar in all of Europe,” Till proclaimed, reaching for her hand as they came to a stop in the heart of Punavuori. It was a neighborhood Vi was fond of - young, vibrant, and walkable.

“Wow, second favorite, it’s an honor.” Vi joked as she let him lead her off the trolley by the hand. Ville had already hopped off and was practically legging it down the street, his long stride covering the ground more quickly that Vissa and Till.

“Come on, slowpokes. Daddy needs a drink!” Ville called over his shoulder from where his long legs had carried him half a block ahead of them. With a laugh, Till lit a cigarette and offered to cup his hands around hers as she lit her own. It wasn’t entirely necessary with the tiny flame she was able to produce from her fingertips, but apparently it was important for shielding her magic from the uninitiated.

“Does he always call himself daddy?” She asked, and got her answer in Till’s grimace. Of course he did. “So what do I expect from this place?”

“I think you’ll like it. Even though they advertise, it’s Others who visit. There’s barely anyone to avoid except the occasional humans who wander in off the street.” He paused to glance both ways across a street she continued to pace across without him.

“Come on, baby, it’s a pedestrian street,” She laughed as she glanced over her shoulder.

Till stood with his cigarette to his lips, eyebrows raised as he considered her for a moment too long. He crossed the street after her at a stately pace, like he meant to pause, sweeping his arm around her waist when he got close.

“What’s that all about?” Vissa asked as Till pulled her into his side.

“Oh, just admiring. Your ass looks nice in those pants,” She had chosen black skinny jeans and Docs, which she knew for a fact did nothing for her ass, paired with a hanging tank that he couldn’t see under her leather jacket. The top was white, for once, something she wore to a girlfriends wedding and was blessedly able to recycle into her wardrobe after.

Did Others have weddings? Was that something that would continue to be a part of her life?

“Man, a hundred years old and he still hasn’t learned to multitask,” She mused as she accepted his peck on the temple. They came to a stop at the bar, not quite near enough the outdoor heat lamps installed for smokers for her taste.

“Almost thirty and she still can’t take a compliment,”

“That stings,” Vi protested as Till stopped walking, pulling her chest up against his. His other hand cupped her cheek as he kissed her deeply.

“What’s gotten into you, Mr. PDA? Trying to ruin my prospects when you leave?”

“Of course not. Just staking my claim for tonight.” Till murmured, his lips brushing hers as he spoke.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Even with all this Glamour?” He asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“You got my attention with it on the first night, why would that change?” Vi countered a little too hotly, flattening the lapel of his pea coat with her palm. He seemed genuinely concerned about the state of his face - and the body she was clasped against - so she paused to pursue the idea. “What’s gotten into you?” She asked slowly, curious and concerned about his answer.

“Oh, you’re just about to realize I’m not the bees knees after all,”

“Don’t think I ever considered you the bees knees. I’m a millennial.” Vissa reached from his lapel to touch her fingers to his lips. “You’re coming home with me tonight, and you have very little say in that.”

Till smiled half-heartedly, but pressed his lips to hers again through her fingers despite whatever misgivings he had.

“Vissa! Till! Jesus, the whole bar is about to puke. Quit being cute and get inside!” Ville’s voice was commanding, and Vissa felt herself drawn toward the doors by his request.

“Don’t. Let that one wear off before we go in,” Till murmured, his arm still firmly around her waist as he frowned at his brother. “Ville, you don’t have to Compulse us, we’ll be in.”

Till’s voice was low and rumbling, a match to his frown. Vissa realized she had been Compulsed by Ville to join them, but felt a little disappointed in herself for failing to resist the call. It was a pretty common feeling for her - being down on herself for something she couldn’t possibly know.

“Way to ruin the moment, Ville.” She muttered darkly, pressing her cheek against Till’s chest. “I want a drink.”

“I do too. Believe it or not, I’m rather fond of all this licorice shit you Fins do.” Till’s voice was more of a rumble in her cheek that was pressed against his chest than something she could hear. She couldn’t help but smile against the stiff wool of his pea coat.

“Oh are you? I think I see a salmakki shot in our future.” Vissa grinned as she straightened and offered him a hand, flicking her butt into the nearby urn with only a little mental guidance helping it fly true. She could hear Till’s internal laughter ringing against the barrier of her mind.

“Come on, time to get your feet wet.” Till offered his arm to her, and Vissa tucked herself into his side and they made their way into the bar.

Chapter Text

Vissa felt immediately overwhelmed by the number of bodies crammed into the small, dark bar, even if the room was by no means packed. It was their magical energy, their Otherness, that set her on edge. She could feel the sizzling of their magic in the air, pulling at the fringes of her mind which was trying frantically to categorize each Other’s power. They weren’t all Casters. Like in Boston, it was a friendly mix of people from different background and of different Other races.

Seriously overwhelming.

She realized she had stopped In her tracks when Till gave her a gentle push with his arm on the small of her back, encouraging her to take another step toward where Ville waited at the bar. It wasn’t like there was a record scratch moment where everyone stopped to look at her - far from it. She couldn’t feel any eyes at her at all. But they were all there at the corner of her mind, more Others than she had ever encountered in one place.

“Let me show you a trick.” Till’s voice was in her ear as his mind pulled at the lacy edges of hers. She allowed him to pull her in. “It’s like you cover up the edges,” He murmured as he demonstrated, showing her how to gather up the tendrils at the edges of her brain and tuck them in like the bottom of a bedsheet.

She retreated back to her mind, but felt like it was more like trying to gather up the edges of a comforter that was too big. Vissa was clumsy and fumbled as Till carefully coached her. If she was paying more attention she would have noticed her lover’s critical eye on the man that should be her teacher, but finally she managed a maneuver similar to gathering a full skirt to keep it out of a puddle and the feeling of anxiety began to subside.

“I would never have thought to do that,”

“It’s usually one of the first things you learn. But you’ve never been around so many strange Others at once.” Till conceded as Ville handed them each a shot. “Come on, Ville. A little help with the instructions?”

“But you’re doing such a wonderful job,” Ville cooed, running a finger under Vissa’s jaw. “My position starts when you leave.”

“Which is when?” Vi asked, trying not to cringe away from Ville’s touch.

“Tomorrow night.” Till seemed sad to admit it, his hand clasping her waist tightly. “Prost,”

“Kippis,” Vissa and Ville called back, glancing at each other as if shocked that they both spoke Finnish. How could she be so similar to such a cynical asswipe of a human, Vissa mused as she tossed back the shot. Perhaps it was why they were at such odds - they didn’t like one another because of their similarities rather than their differences.

“Ville! Who is this fine specimen?” Vissa was shocked to find that the female voice that called to Ville was referring to her as the specimen in question. The woman rubbed a hand across Ville’s shoulders in an overtly sensual manner as she stared at Vissa, very clearly sizing her up.

“Vissa, this is Hanna. Hanna, Vissa. Fresh from America.” Ville flipped a hand back and forth between them lackadaisically as if that was enough of an introduction. Hanna was a gorgeous woman, petite with dyed-black hair that fell in a bob of well-curated curls, plump lips that had to be filled, and piercingly green eyes. Trying not to come off as intimidated as she felt, Vissa offered a hand to Hanna to shake.

“Vissa, dont -“ It was too late to heed Till’s warning, but Vissa immediately realized why she shouldn’t have offered her hand to the grinning woman as pain exploded in her head.

Hanna was cackling as Vissa regained her hand, leaning hard on Till for support.

“She’s so tender! Lindemann where did you find this one?” Hanna asked, her head tilted in a bird like way as she studied Vissa. Vi glared, flexing her hand when it was really her head that hurt.

“Excuse me?”

“Best not to engage her, mein schatz, she won’t let up until she decides she likes you.” Till murmured, his gaze directed at Hanna. His glare was more icy than Vissa had ever seen it, and in this moment he stuck her as the Till she had read about in interviews - polite, but cold and distant. German, but not a German friend.

“Oh, hush Till. I’m no monster,” Hanna’s eyes glinted dangerously, and Vissa couldn’t help but wonder if the woman really was a monster. Seeing as she had just shocked her for no reason, Vissa was inclined to believe Hanna was. She was like fucking Jane from Twilight - just not as blonde. “Till and I were a thing, oh, decades ago. I’m not sure he’s quite over me yet.”

Till didn’t give Hanna the dignity of a response, his gaze steel. His body was rigid where it touched hers - tension Vissa had no idea how to dispel. She realized she was wringing her hands against the memory of pain, and threw up her hands dismissively.

“Awesome. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get a drink while you work that out.” Vissa knew she wasn’t being fair to Till, but what did she know about an affair that probably happened before she was born? She had a jealous streak that she was working to get over if she was going to have any hope of a sustained relationship with Till, and this was her attempt to do it.

Vissa disentangled herself from the group before any of the trio could protest, drawing up the lacy edges of her “mind skirt” even tighter as she felt Till reach to prod her with concern. Not right now. It wasn’t like she was going far.

What a great first impression.

Chapter Text

Vissa turned away from the mental standoff that was happening next to her and into the bar, where she found a smiling woman with a mousey brown lob with heavy bangs that only served to make her brilliant green eyes pop.

“What’ll it be then?” She sounded Irish. Vissa raised an eyebrow as she considered.

“Hm. A cider would be great. And a shot of tar jaloviina for me and the big guy.” Vi gestured at Till behind her. She could feel his attention was still on Hanna, and she assumed he was giving her a mental dressing down. The question she tried to shove from her mind was if it was figurative or literal.

“Not for the young lady and Ville there?” Of course Ville would be a regular enough patron that the bartenders would know him.

“I think Till needs it most.” She shrugged, glancing over her shoulder. Hanna had gone white as a sheet - whatever Till was saying seemed to be having an effect. The burly German was cool as a cucumber, his face flat. “I know it doesn’t look that way.”

“He aged his Glamour,” The bartender noted as she popped the top off the bottle and handed her both. Vissa’s cider of choice had little happy sayings under the cap, which she had always enjoyed reading. Today she pocketed it instead of paying attention.

“Till?”

“Yeah, it’s a little rough,” Definitely Irish, Vissa mused as she studied the woman. An Irish woman speaking Finnish and working in an Other bar - this was someone she wanted to interview. “You’re new around here,”

“I am. Vissa,” Having learned from past mistakes she didn’t offer a hand. The bartender nodded as she provided the shot glasses.

“Moya. Welcome to Helsinki. Or back to Helsinki?” She was quick, Vissa realized with a smile. Moya had obviously picked up on Vissa’s accent - and probably the fact that very few non-Finns spoke Finnish.

“Back to, lived in America for a while.” Vissa took a sip of her cider. “Nothing like this in Boston.”

“Helsinki is unique. You must have been young when you left.” Vi nodded to agree. “Light or Dark?”

“Vissa!” Till’s call was sharp, and she turned to make eye contact with the man as he forbade her to answer the question - his mental timber holding a hint of desperate speed rather than its usual infallible calm.

“Nice to meet you, Moya,” Vi picked up the shots and her cider with a practiced hand under Moya’s critical gaze. Fuck, it was like anything she did could get her in some sort of trouble. So far, Casterdom was like tiptoeing around dark a room with Legos all over the floor.

Till took the shot from her fingertips before she even offered it and threw it back, hissing through his teeth at the burn of the sauna-flavored brandy. Ville and Hanna had moved to a corner where Hanna was addressing Ville tersely, glaring at Till between sentences. A thick fingertip under the glass reminded Vissa to take her own shot.

“Come for a cigarette,” He wasn’t asking, and she didn’t like that very much. Vi was tempted to dig in her heels when Till tipped her chin up, planting a kiss on her lips that about made her melt into the floor. “Please,”

He still wasn’t asking, and she still didn’t like it. But Vissa followed anyway, drink in hand even though she was likely about to get shouted at. Till reached to take it from her, tucking it into his coat pocket as he pulled out his smokes.

“Hanna is a Vampire. She was a Caster before she was turned. Strong telepath.” He lit his cigarette, looking at her with one eye closed against the smoke. “But not as strong as you. Moya is a Faerie. She’s a trickster, watch out for her. And don’t talk to her about your alignment. Don’t talk to anyone about that.” It felt like an order, and came with a touch of mental force that seemed to reinforce the imperative.

“I don’t like being ordered around, Till,” She murmured, watching his expression darken as she lit her own cigarette. “What’s up with Hanna?”

“What do you mean?” He was frowning, his face stormy with something adjacent to anger.

“I don’t know. She doesn’t seem thrilled that I exist.” The whole thing was making Vissa feel anxious, the amount of Others, the unbridled anger that seemed aimed at her, Till ordering her around.

“I’m sorry, Vi. I can’t control other people.”

“But you can control me?”

“Fuck, just tell me what you’re upset about. I can’t dance around like this.” He sounded frustrated, his brows knitted as he looked at her.

“Never mind, Till. It’s all complicated. I don’t want to leave on a bad note.”

“Is that what this is? Because I’m leaving?” Till sighed and tilted his chin up, staring at the darkening sky. “Vissa. I don’t live here. I’ll always have to leave.”

“Don’t make me sound like a child, Lindemann. I’m upset about where we are.” Wow, she hadn’t admitted that to herself yet. Vi frowned at herself as Till’s cool blue eyes focused back on her. “Fuck, it’s only been two days and I’m head over heels for you. How did you do this to me?”

“You’re so mortal,” He smiled wryly, holding out a hand for hers. She didn’t offer hers in return but looked at his hand disdainfully, still feeling petty. Till sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Mein liebling. Would I be here if I didn’t care for you?”

“Sure, I’m still too mortal. Forgive me for not having adjusted in two months.” Fuck, it had barely even been that long. Vissa figured she was doing very well under the circumstances, upending her whole life to accommodate this new one. Till let his hand fall to his side - seeking his pocket but finding her drink instead of space. He pulled out the cider and took a long swallow.

“Vissa, I’m sorry. It’s easy for me to forget that you’re not a Caster twice your age.” He paused, his eyes sweeping over her body in a way that would be leering if she didn’t like him so much. “You’re strong, Vissa. You’ll be the strongest Telepath in centuries. Ville is afraid of that. I’m attracted to it.”

“So you just like my power,”

“Don’t reduce me to that, herz. I could not love you like I do for your power.” Record scratch. Vissa felt like looking at the camera and asking her audience if they were wondering how she had gotten herself into this situation. Love? Had he said that? “Don’t look at me like that, Vi. I’m too old to dodge the truth.”

“It seems convenient, Till. Saying that now.” She didn’t want to be skeptical. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, declare that she loved him too. But the suspicious journalist in her made her wonder about the convenient timing, the fact that they honestly hadn’t known each other long enough to declare their love for one another. No matter how old and experienced he was.

“You doubt me, I get it. But you want me all for yourself anyway.”

“Yeah, so mortal,” She murmured sarcastically, rolling the filter of her cigarette between her fingers.

“Neither of us should use that as an excuse. I’m sorry for starting it.” He sighed, rubbing his free hand through his hair. “You’re a woman. A person with feelings and desires.”

“Hashtag feminism,”

“Hashtag an old fuck who adores you.” He offered his hand again, and this time Vissa took it and let him pull her into his side. “We will talk about this tonight, mein schatz. But for now, I really could use another drink.”

She turned as he clasped her tight, ignoring the rowdy group that catcalled as they made their way into the bar. It was just her and Till, for a blessed moment. She reached to his mind, letting it envelop hers as he pressed his mouth to hers. He showed her the feeling she had when he kissed her.

It felt like love.

Chapter Text

“Lindemann!”

Like any sweet moment that started in proximity to a rowdy bunch of men walking into a bar, it ended with someone shouting at Till, calling his name as the others hooted about the pair “making out.” Vissa felt Till lift a hand, and assumed his middle finger was erect, but he didn’t pull away.

“I am so sorry for what’s about to happen,” He murmured against her lips as he pushed her cider into her hands. There was a smile in his voice - and he gripped her fingers tightly as he flashed his gap-toothed grin before he turned to greet the group that hollered at him.

“Jesus, Lindemann, I thought you had gone deaf,” The man who hailed Till was big, impossibly tall and imposing with dyed black hair, wearing sunglasses and too much leather. He was even wearing gloves, Vissa noticed as he pointed at Till.

“Jesus, Linnankivi, I thought you were dead,” Vissa couldn’t place the name but realized she had heard it before she watched, amused by their antics. The men seemed to face off for one tense moment before they hugged it out. Vissa found herself laughing at them as she swigged from her cider, seeking a new cigarette to light.

“That’s a new face,” One of the men that had arrived with Linnankivi greeted her. He was smaller, also with dyed black hair, a heavy brow, and bright blue eyes. Vissa was glad both of her hands were occupied as she nodded at him.

“Vissa, nice to meet you.” Where had she seen his face before, she mused as she studied his face. Even his voice was familiar.

“Oh, the American?” She was confused, and it must have shown on her face because the man laughed. “Sorry, I heard from Ville earlier today. I’m Lauri. I’m sure you’ve run into my dear sister.” Vissa felt a little zap of recognition, realizing that he was the famous singer of a beloved Finnish band, the Rasmus. Of fucking course he was.

“Your dear sister...”

“Hanna.”

“Vampire?”

“What, her? Yeah.” So not him, apparently. Her powers of deductive reasoning were getting a real workout tonight, Vissa mused. And her lungs, she noted as she took a drag of her cigarette, watching Till steer the enormously tall, dark-haired man toward her.

“Vissa, this is Jyrki. And Lauri, always a pleasure,” Till’s voice sounded like it might be anything but a pleasure even though he smiled like he was joking. Vi could practically feel Lauri’s hackles stand on end, but that wasn’t her problem. Now she was trying to figure out the identity the incredibly tall, black-haired man who stood with an arm casually draped over Till’s shoulder, because she fucking recognized him too.

“Yeah, yeah. Hanna inside?” Lauri didn’t even wait for Vissa’s nod before he ducked toward the door. Was Till going to socially castrate her among Helsinki’s Other elite?

“Testy,” Till mused, reaching for Vissa’s shoulders. She let him press her into his side, despite the Finnish sensibilities that told her to distance herself now that there were other people around.

“So’s she. And probably not happy to see that.” Jyrki gestured to them before he paused, considering the cigarette Till had just lit before he snatched it to steal a long breath. He wore a lot of rings, Vissa noted. “I don’t give a fuck, for the record. It’s nice to someone catch Till’s attention. Someone who’s not human, I mean.”

“You’re going to get me in more trouble, Jyrki,” Till said before Vissa could ask how Jyrki knew she wasn’t a mortal. It was a dumb question, because she could tell he wasn’t. Why wouldn’t he be able to tell?

She was only starting to get a handle on which of her self-proclaimed “spidey senses” were shared by other Others. Vi figured she would do well to keep her mouth shut half the time, but she couldn’t help herself - not shutting her mouth was how she had gotten to this point in her life, her career.

“So she’s run into Hanna already?” Till grunted his confirmation, and apparently it was written plainly on Vissa’s face. Jyrki chuckled, cracking his gloved knuckles. “That went well, I’m sure.”

“Woman can hold a grudge for thirty years,” Till muttered darkly, kicking the toe of one boot into the other.

“Who’s fault is that?” Jyrki asked rhetorically, glancing over his shoulder to the bar. Vissa couldn’t resist any more, she had to ask again.

“What happened?” Till winced as he reached for Vissa’s drink and quaffed the rest of it.

“I try to adhere to rules and regulations of a relationship when agreed on by all parties,” Till's statement made Jyrki and Vissa laugh.

“You cheated on her?” Vissa raised an eyebrow, realizing that Till was likely getting what he deserved.

“No. Yes. Sort of. When your definition of cheating includes going out to bars and drinking too much and maybe hitting on someone, that gets tough.”

“So you hit on someone?” Vissa pried, flexing her journalistic skills. She had the thread of a scoop and like hell she was going to let it go.

“He made out with someone.” Jyrki said before Till had a chance to explain himself.

“Well, Tilly my boy. That counts as cheating in a mortal book,”

“Vissa, she’s a vampire. A traditional, honest to goodness Anne fucking Rice vampire.” Vissa wasn’t getting it, and Till sighed, sounding exasperated. “She fucks dudes to suck their blood.”

“Oh.” She paused for a second as it all clicked - she had never been a big fan of The Vampire Chronicles and it’s ilk, but Vissa knew enough about pop culture for Till’s explanation to make sense after too long of a beat. “Oh!”

“Yeah. It was an incredible double standard. She seduces and kills men to survive, he can’t keep his mouth to himself,” Jyrki added dryly as Till held up his hand for him to stop. He pointed at Vissa.

“Vissa is still learning this, Jyrki. Take it easy.”

“I think I have a handle on what vampires do, Till.” Vissa murmured, rubbing one temple gingerly. “I need water. I have a headache.”

Chapter Text

Vissa sat on a stool between Ville and Till, who seemed to be taking turns holding court. Till shied away from the spotlight but greeted his friends warmly, while Ville showed off his “new protege” with a flourish any time anyone asked who she was. To be honest, Vissa was tired of it herself. How long was she going to have to study with the man until she could go off on her own?

Till did his best to keep a drink in her hand, occasionally planting a kiss on her cheek or reminding her to check on the fringes of her mind and make sure she wasn’t getting too much feedback.

“Are you ok?” He asked at one point, a hand on her cheek blocking out the rest of the bar for a moment. She appreciated his care, but she knew she would be more comfortable if she had her notebook out to record everything she was learning.

“Overwhelmed. There’s too much going on here. Too many names. Too many relationships.” She had met at least two other of Till’s former flames in the group, and each left her more confused about the man than the last. He seemed so caring to her, but Sully’s words started to come back to mind - “he eats girls like you for breakfast.” Why? Maybe it was because she had been introduced to so many Others she was convinced didn’t like her.

“We can go back to Ville’s if you want,” He murmured into her ear, his tone hinting of things to come. Things she wanted, sure, but she was skeptical enough that she felt she needed to put it all on hold until they had a talk.

“Can we go for a walk?” She asked, wrapping her fingers in his as she finished her most recent drink. “I’d like some fresh air.”

Till acquiesced, standing up from his stool to offer her his arm. Vissa zipped up her jacket and looped her scarf around her neck before she took looped her arm around his.

The pair walked out like they were going for a cigarette and kept walking, Vissa led him toward the waterfront, where the Gulf of Finland was just starting her winter rage. It would be gorgeous even in the dark.

Till shifted to wrap his fingers around hers, his meaty hand enveloping hers. They walked in silence for a few blocks, through a largely empty park.

“Where are you taking us, mein schatz?”

“Seaside. The moon’s out, it’ll be gorgeous down there.”

“Romantic,”

“Secluded.”

“Planning to off me?” Till asked, looking down at her with a thick eyebrow raised.

“Depends.” Vissa managed time stay serious as she glanced up at the burly German. “We need to talk,”

“So we both keep saying.”

They fell silent as she steered him across a street toward the park that separated homes from the sea. It wasn’t a long walk from The Riff - honestly, it was a neighborhood she hoped to find an apartment in when she settled back into her “mortal life.”

The pair stopped by a sea wall, Vissa perched on the flat stone top of the low wall as Till leaned his torso over to watch the waves crash into the stones. They were going to be soaked if they stayed too long, but for now the mist was refreshing and a little invigorating. After a moment of quiet observation, Till turned his attention back to her.

“Vissa,” He had been calling her pet names most of the night, it was a stark contrast to hear him murmur her name as he reached for her hand. Vissa smoothed a frown from her face as she pulled him closer to her side, her legs curled under her prevented her from moving toward him.

“Till.” She couldn't resist planting a kiss on his forehead as she wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Her perch on the wall put her at a higher vantage, and she was going to take advantage as much as she could. He seemed willing to let her be in control.

“Liebling.” Oh, that was a new one. The burly man pulled down the zipper of her leather jacket gently, tantalizingly slowly, before he pressed his face into the skin exposed by her lacy cami top. She had really leaned into the whole “new witch on the block” aesthetic - but then, that had always been her look.

“‘Love,’ now? Not heart or treasure?” She prodded, unable to help herself. It was a point worth pursuing, really. He didn’t answer for a long moment, and Vissa was about to talk over him when he spoke.

“All of the above.” He muttered against her skin, holding her close. “Cliche?”

“Absolutely. Till?” She paused, stroking one finger down his nose. Her nails were long after traveling - usually she would mow them down with the force of her nervousness, but with Till’s calming presence she had even managed to paint them black on one of their flights. “I want you all to myself.”

“I know.”

“So what do you think about that?”

“There’s no answer that doesn’t make you upset.”

“I mean, I could think of one.” His breath was warm on her chest, and the warmth juxtaposed by the cold made goosebumps rise across her skin. “But I know that’s not the answer, is it?”

“No, schatz.” He stroked his fingers across her jaw from below, tantalizing, gentle. Vissa wanted it to herself. All to herself, damn it. “You know what it means to be a Caster. And that I’m going on tour.”

“So what’s a year or two off? A year or two with one strange girl from Helsinki?” Vi knew what the answer was, and he kissed her skin gently.

“Do you want that kind of attention? Till Lindemann’s girlfriend. Think of the google searches,”

“Darling, I’m a PR rep. All news can be good news,” She still found herself frowning. “I don’t think that’s the excuse, Till.”

“I love you.” His murmur set fire to her skin - again. He was distracting her, Vissa thought as she stroked his dark hair. “I don’t want to lose you. Which is why I’m ok with letting you go.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. You have a lot to learn. About Casters, about me. We can’t do this now.”

“Why?”

“Vissa.”

“Lindemann.”

“Listen to me.” He looked up at her, taking her chin in his meaty hand. “Vi. I love you. I haven’t felt so strongly about someone in decades. But I can’t put you through this until you’re trained. You have no idea what you’re getting into.”

“So tell me! I’m so sick of being in the dark. I don’t know shit, I get it.”

“I can’t tell you everything.”

“Yeah, because despite being a great telepath, you won’t teach me.” Vissa let her hand fall to her side, staring up at the night sky.

“That’s not fair, Vi, and you know it.” Despite her shifting he still hadn’t moved, his arms wrapped around her back and his head pressed against her skin. “But if this is you distancing yourself from me, I understand.”

“That’s not what I want to do at all. Moving back was something I had dreaded, but with you - even with the drama - I had fun, Till. I don’t want to lose that.”

“What do you want?”

“Fuck, I don’t know Till. I want more time. I feel like a petulant fucking child.” She let her hands wander back to his hair, stroking it, twisting the dark strands into shapes. His glamour made it feel stiff and unruly under her fingers, but she knew it was soft and thick under the mask of age. Magic was so weird.

“I can’t give you that. I have what I have. Our mortal lives are demanding.”

“Not sure what you’re talking about, I’m unemployed.” She joked, taking a page from his book and tucked her fingers under his chin to tilt his head up for a kiss. He let her steer him, eyes half-closed. The Glamour flickered - purposefully, it had to be - and for just a moment she could see the real Till. The concern that coated his glamour was mirrored on his young face, his brows drawn and his lips pursed into a frown.

“I’m making this difficult aren’t I?” She murmured against his lips, holding his face in both hands. God he had a big head.

“A little. But you’re working with something you don’t understand.” Vi realized she was subconsciously savoring the moment, enjoying his delicious baritone as it wrapped around every word. “But I still have to go, Vissa. As much as I want to stay, I’m in the middle of a tour.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want you to wait for me.”

“What if I want to?”

“You won’t want to. You have so much to learn, mein schatz. So much to explore.” His voice was tired as he pressed his face back into her neck. “Old Till will be around when you’re done learning.”

She sighed as she dug his face out for another kiss. He had let the Glamour fall away, which absolutely didn’t help her figure out the weird fucking future of “them.”

Chapter Text

Vissa wasn’t sure what life had in store for her any more, but she was sure she didn’t want to say goodbye to Till. The fall sunrise found them strewn across the bed, wrapped in each other’s limbs and a tangle of blankets.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” He asked quietly, stroking the skin between her breasts. She had considered getting a tattoo there at some point, and Till’s attention to the spot reminded her of the thought.

“I want to stay here forever,” Vissa murmured, giggling as rolled on top of her.

“Ok, just like this?” Till said, feeling like a massive dead weight on top of her.

“You’re crushing me!”

After a brief scuffle for dominance, Vissa rose on her haunches, straddling Till’s hips. One of his big hands rested on her thighs, the other tucked behind his head.

“I will miss you,” He murmured, reaching up to caress her cheek, stroking her bottom lip with his thumb.

“You’ll be too busy to miss me,”

“She says, not knowing how much she has to juggle,” Till’s laugh was a little sad, not as jolly as he usually was. “You’ve got a lot to accomplish in... what, you said you’ll do it in five years?”

“Good god hopefully fewer,” Vissa couldn’t even think about living with Ville for five months let alone five years. Her hope was to pick up whatever she could to make her eligible to be out in the world on her own as fast as possible.

“You will be great, mein liebling. I’m sure the next time I see you, you’ll be in charge of a Coven,”

“I can’t handle that kind of responsibility.” She shook her head, leaning down to take his face in both of her hands, studying it closely. Young Till was not flawless - crows feet creased the corners of his eyes, a gap-toothed smile screamed that he was a thumb-sucker as a baby, and scars from various loved and lost piercings and from beating his face on the microphone adorned his Unglamoured face. But she liked that face.

He reached his lips up to hers, his abs flexing under her body. Fuck, she loved it. She loved him.

“Come on. We should do something with our day.” He murmured, stroking her cheek. Vissa took his hand in hers, pressing her thumbs into the center of his meaty palm. “What do you see?”

“I think you might have had another kid...” She joked, reaching her lips to his for a moment as she considered his palm. “You have a lot on your mind, and it’s not all about me. It feels like... you’re at a crossroads. Conflict between your mortal and Caster lives.”

“I’m not sure it counts if you already know how I’m feeling,” Till muttered, his German dark and somewhat distant.

“Ah, a nerve. What’s down there?” She knew she was prying, but that was how she had gotten so far in life, that dogged pursuit.

In one dizzying moment, Vissa found herself on her back, Till’s body pressed against hers between her legs. She was only marginally bewildered as he rotated her hand in his, his thumbs pressed into her skin. Vi stayed quiet, watching his eyes as he read her palm. She could feel a tingle as he considered her past and the decisions facing her future.

“You’re going to succeed. Quickly. I can see you making your Choice in a year.” The Choice was her alignment - what Coven she would join and if it would be Light or Dark. It was something that didn’t seem like a big deal to Vissa but that Till said would shape the rest of her extended life.

“I already know what I’d choose,”

“Do you? I wouldn’t make that choice yet.” Till murmured, massaging her palm gently. He was getting hard again, pressed against the heat between her legs. Vissa let her free fingers trail down his abs, admiring the crevice between each one.

“I feel like I’ve made a lot of choices before I knew what I was doing...” She murmured as he shifted a little, pressing himself harder against her as he focused back on her palm. Vissa wasn’t able to multitask as well as Till could, her fingertips reaching for his dick.

“Vi. Fuck. The things you’re going to accomplish,” He squeezed her hand hard before he let it go, running both hands up her sides before he pulled her upright. Till pressed his stubbly face against her neck as they shifted, and Vissa guided him inside of her.

“I’ll accomplish something right now,” She murmured as her hips settled against his. Till held her tightly to his chest - she could feel his smile against her skin.

“I like it when you accomplish something,” Till turned his face to hers, pressing their lips together as she started to search for her rhythm. He moaned against her mouth, his hands on her hips.

His kisses had a feeling of finality to them - though, that was probably her coloring the experience because she was upset Till was leaving. Vissa had a lot of frustration to work out, and she pushed his torso back against the bed. Rather, he let her guide him onto his back so she could rise up on her knees, riding him hard.

“Vissa,” He called her name, his voice dark with lust.

Abruptly, he moved underneath her, his hands on her hips as he started to stand. It felt like what she assumed riding a bucking bronco felt like, and she struggled to hold on as she wrapped her legs around his thick waist.

“Till!” He pressed her back against the cool wall, his thrusts harder than she had expected. Vissa wrapped her arms around his burly shoulders.

She started to feel the lightheaded euphoria of an impending orgasm, and it almost made her sad. Vissa didn’t want it to end.

“Schatz, I’m almost there,” He murmured into her ear, his strokes firm.

“Till,” Vissa leaned her head back, letting the rush of intense pleasure take over. “I need you,”

He pushed her harder against the wall, grunting with the effort of his exertion until he sighed her name. Fuck she was going to miss this, she mused as he kissed her neck gently, his arms locked under her thighs.

“I’m going to miss you,” She murmured, holding his face tightly in her hands.

“I know, mein herz.”

Chapter Text

Vissa laid on Ville’s kitchen island, staring at the ceiling. Till hadn’t let her accompany him to the airport, citing that it would be more difficult if she came with him anyway. She wasn’t happy about it but she let him go with a kiss and a deep frown.

She lit a cigarette, watching the smoke trail off the tip as her phone buzzed close at hand.

“Just got through security.” Vi smiled at the text, sending a picture of her grin, hair splayed behind her.

“What are you doing?” She popped her head up to find Ville leaning in the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed. “I figured you’d go with Lindemann,”

“Yeah, I thought I would. He convinced me to stay.” Vissa said as she leaned her head back against the counter.

“Sounds about right.” Ville opened the fridge and pulled out what sounded like a pair of beers - when it appeared in the corner of Vissa’s eye she realized it was a cider. “Why don’t I teach you a few things and we go drinking? I hate to see a pretty little thing like you all mopey.”

“I’m not mopey,” She murmured as she sat up, reaching for the cider. Ville reached for her palm and pressed a thumb into its center, his long fingers wrapped around her hand. This was an interesting change from Ville’s antics while Till was around - perhaps the fondness resulted from the lack of need to compete for Till’s affection.

“Mopey. Oh, and you think you’ve already chosen your path with the Source? So cute.” He squeezed her hand hard and tapped her thigh as he turned, a lit cigarette appearing between his fingers. “Come darling, you’ve much to learn.”

It was how she found herself sitting cross-legged on Ville’s living room floor, wondering when the last time he vacuumed was as he ran her through her paces on the basics.

“I’m not sure I know how to do that,” Vissa balked as Ville asked her to refill an empty glass with water.

“Well you’ve been pretty good at figuring the rest out,” Ville urged. “How would you do it? Logically?”

“The water’s going to come from somewhere. I can wring it out of the air,”

“You could Summon it from somewhere,”

“Well, sure. If I knew how to Summon.”

“I know you’re visualizing what you’re doing as ‘wringing it out of the air,’ but what you’re doing is Summoning it from the humidity and Appearing it in the glass.” Ville explained, but Vissa shook her head.

“No, watch. This is how I would weave that -“ Biting her lip, Vi focused on the act of pulling the water out of the air, weaving almost some sort of mini funnel with he Source. Everything she could do was sort of on the level of a child - limited because of her Block. The glass slowly filled as she retrieved individual droplets of water.

“Oh god, you just made it dry as fuck,” Ville faked a wheeze as he commanded the water back into the air. “Here. Watch what I do,”

He invited her to his brain, to the little part of it that worked magic. Ville had said to her that he saw his source as an equation he had to fill in, and if she could see his work it would be similar. However, Vissa couldn’t see his work. It was another issue with the Block. She could get the gist of what he was doing by watching his thought process, something she had quickly grown particularly adept at. But if she were to attempt what he was showing her it would be on a much smaller scale.

Ville had summoned the water from the nearest body of water he could think of, which to him was the gulf. Vissa would never have been able to summon anything from that far away, so when she attempted to repeat his effort she focused on something closer. Her bottle of cider. While not technically water, it was liquid. What she was trying to learn was how to convince something that was already existing happily to exist somewhere else with no guarantee of happiness.

It was satisfying when the glass filled with her cider, though Ville raised an eyebrow at the pale liquid as Vissa socked part of it back.

“Oh, it’s your cider!” Realization dawned on her spindly teacher, who grinned. “I saw yellow and though of the next nearest body of water...”

“Wow, Ville. That’s not how my mind works.” She sighed, leaning back on one arm. Could a Caster summon liquid directly from their bladder? She wasn’t sure she wanted to run that experience in Ville’s living room. “This has been fantastic, and I’m excited to get better. But fuck, I’m exhausted.”

“I forgot Till already put you through your paces today,” Ville laughed, patting her shoulder. “Come, it might be good for you to rest a bit before we go out.”

“God, I hoped you had forgotten about going out.” She groaned, taking the hand he offered to help her to her feet. For a man who she knew to be over one hundred years old, Ville was spry. And for a man she knew to be skinny as a beanpole and proud, he was strong too.

“What, you don’t want to?”

“I shouldn’t. Not until I get a job.” She was running low on funds anyway, and she didn’t want to think about the potential of Ville charging rent. She might end up working at the bar instead of visiting if she didn’t find a day job soon, Vissa mused, chewing her lips.

“Oh, you’re fine. Did they charge you last night?”

“No, and I’m imagining that’s going to suck today.” She winced thinking of the default gratuity fee they would charge - not that she was a skimpy tipper but some places she had been to were ridiculous.

“They won’t.” Vissa raised a curious eyebrow at Ville and asked him to continue. “Think of it like... a club. Members pay dues. Last night you were my guest. You and Till, though I think he’s an honorary member.”

“Don’t know how I feel about that,”

“One day you’ll be a member, too. I hope.” Vissa wasn’t sure what he meant, and pressed him. “Well, if you choose the Dark you would be. Especially as a Dark Caster in Helsinki.”

“Why did Moya ask me if I was Dark, then? If everyone there was a... member?”

“She wanted to put you on the spot. And she’d never seen you before, so it makes sense she’d want to know if you were open to her advances.” Ville shrugged. “Alright, no more. Go take a nap.”

“But I have so many questions,”

“In due time. You know more than you should. And less.” Ville tweaked her nose before he pointed her toward the stairs. “Go on. I’ll source something for dinner while you sleep.”

Chapter Text

It went on like that for a few days - waking up, working with Ville before one or both of them got bored or hungry and went in search or alcohol and food - until Vissa scheduled her first interview. Vissa had to skip “morning class” as she called it, and instead headed into the city center to interview for an Editor position at one of the larger Finnish newspapers. Four days a week, good pay, better benefits - it was more than she could ask for. And she’d be able to move out when Ville could truthfully say she wasn’t going to accidentally blow up her new apartment. Or enchant the neighbors, which was far more likely.

“Thank you, Vissa. This was impressive. We still have a few more rounds of interviews to go, but you’ll hear from us about next steps in a few days,” The paper’s HR director stood, but it was the Editor-in-Chief who moved to show her to the front door.

“I hear you know Ville,” The tall man murmured as he escorted her through the newsroom. She glanced up at him - a true monstrosity, he had a series of scars that clouded one eye. Lichtenburg figures, she thought she remembered them being called. The scars cut through his hair on the left side of his face, leaving his hearing aid exposed on his unusually normal ear. He would have been striking without all the scars anyway, imposingly tall and broad with a shock of curly blonde hair and a tantalizingly deep speaking voice. Damn, no potential boss of hers had business being so attractive.

“Depends on if that’s a good or bad thing,” She mused, looking up at the lost Skarsgard brother.

“It’s a good thing.” He stopped at the door, holding it open for her. “Don’t get too attached to any other jobs. I want you.”

Those last three words pestered Vissa as she walked out of the building, chewing her lip. They dogged her while she perched on a nearby bench to change into her commuting shoes - from stilettos to a bootie with a lower heel in which she could navigate the rain-slicked streets of Helsinki. For an interview at a news organization she was able to dress a with a little more edge, and chose a pair of high-waisted cigarette pants to pair with her more conservative blazer and top.

‘How was it?’ Till was on a tour bus and had to be bored to be texting her. Vissa reprimanded herself for the thought - he was texting her because he enjoyed her conversation, not because he was bored. She had found herself getting incredibly salty at him in his absence, doubting everything he had said about them as a couple. Probably because they weren’t a couple, she mused as she typed out a reply.

‘The chief editor said he wants me. I’m either in or he has a taste for human flesh.’

‘Vampire?’

‘Not sure. He knew Ville.’ The three dots that signified Till was typing bopped at the bottom of her screen for a long time - longer than she had expected. Vissa tucked the phone in her purse as she contended with her outer layer. She should find food before she inevitably ended up at The Riff. Maybe she’d stop at the library, though she shouldn’t be spending time on books that weren’t about her Casting. Well, she had one of those tucked in her bag beside her meeting notebook and her personal notebook, maybe she’d find a place to curl up and “study.”

Vissa pulled her phone out of her purse again, intending to look up nearby lunch spots.

‘What’s his name?’

‘Jealous?’ Vissa paused, considering if it was worth setting off this bomb. Vissa didn’t know if Till was the jealous type - he didn’t seem to be, but they hadn’t been together very long. ‘Einvar Nylund.’

‘He has a twin sister.’

‘Relevant?’

‘She’s less interesting than Einvar in my opinion.’ That made Vissa laugh as she lit a cigarette, considering her lunch options. The news bureau was in a big building downtown, and all around her there were restaurants. Maybe she’d wander through Stockmann’s.

‘I’ll keep that in mind. How’s your bus ride?’

In response, Till sent a video out the bus window, showing the “boring” countryside of Italy. The phone swept across his bandmates, in various states of undress and Glamours, who waved in turn - though Richard paired his brilliant grin with a erect middle finger - until Till’s un-Glamoured face appeared, grinning broadly.

‘At least the scenery is nice.’

‘Good book, new music, decent company. It’s fine.’

‘I miss you.’ Vissa typed and deleted the sentence twice before she pocketed her phone and ducked into Stockmann’s, hunting down the rumor of a vegetarian sandwich.

With her sandwich secured - and a bag of chips and licorice for the road - Vissa was making her way toward the library before she pulled her phone out. Ok so she would read for herself in between study sessions. That was acceptable in her mind.

‘I miss you too.’ She hadn’t sent anything, but Till had responded to her message anyway. He was either incredibly perceptive or he could somehow still read her from thousands of miles away. Vissa couldn’t come up with a response that wasn’t overly snarky, and simply sent a picture of the beautiful central library’s facade with a ‘wish you were here.’

‘Need a good book?’

‘Open to suggestions.’

Till sent her a snap of the cover of his book in his lap, something about the struggle of man. Vissa frowned.

‘I think we have differing tastes, my dear.’ She smiled as she perused the stacks, looking for something sufficiently fanciful enough to hold her attention. Vissa had managed to keep her appetite for fantasy novels even when she discovered her life was basically fantasy - though young adult romance about vampires and various ghouls were right out. She picked a Glen Cook novel to check out and set off for the bar.

Chapter Text

Vissa set herself up with a notebook for jotting down distracting ideas or to-dos in her head open on the bar in front of her as she cozied up with a coffee and her sandwich, and the book she had found. She had read about the Black Company books but hadn’t ever read them herself, and found them pretty engaging.

She was totally engrossed as she sipped her coffee, dodging dialogue with Moya - who had quickly become her least favorite bartender in the place. It was the prying questions, the woman never let Vissa rest on her mysterious laurels like others did.

‘What did you pick?’ Till asked, obviously still bored on the bus. She sent a picture of the cover of the book - and then thought to text Ville about her whereabouts.

‘Want me to join?’ For a minute, Vi thought the text had come from Till rather than Ville. The realization of who had texted was a bit of a disappointment.

“Do you want coffee?” Moya asked, and a deep voice from behind Vissa answered.

“Something stronger for me. Long day.” Vi set down her book, turning as a tall, scarred man settled into a barstool next to her. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Einvar?” Vissa reached to flip her notebook closed when she noticed he was looking at it intently, and started to pack up her things. “Early to be out of the office,”

“Had to finish the interview. So I asked Ville where he thought you might be.” He thanked Moya warmly for the beer she provided with a smile and a wink for the scarred man. “He said he hadn’t heard from you in a while.”

“You say that like I’m not allowed to wander Helsinki alone,” She was wading into dangerous territory, being sarcastic with a future boss but Vi almost couldn’t help herself. It was how she flirted, she realized with a pang of guilt, thinking about Till in his tour bus. He had probably texted her. “Moya, may I have a cider when you get a minute?”

Moya flipped her off, which Vissa took to be her acquiescence.

“So I texted Till.” That was a jolt, and she glanced at the scarred man, hoping she had kept her face flat.

“Interesting. How do you know Till?”

“We go way back. Till, my sister, and me.” Einvar grinned, but only one side of his face twisted. “For a former reporter, you don’t ask the questions I think you will,”

“I think I’ll get there eventually. Why don’t you wear a Glamour?”

“You don’t think I’m pretty?” He asked, feigning shock. “Don’t care to cover it up now.”

“Now?”

“Go through cycles, covering it and not. Right now, I’m not.” Einvar shrugged as he started pulling the label gently from his beer bottle.

“How did it happen?” Maja came to present her an unopened bottle of her favorite cider, and ignored Vissa as she thanked her. Vi dug in her pocket for a lighter to pop the top off.

“Spell gone wrong, with my sister and I. We got greedy, tried to take a shortcut.” Einvar shrugged. “Won’t go into more detail than that.”

“Interesting. What’s your specialty?”

“Fire.” She felt like he had something else to say, but if he wasn’t going to offer she wasn’t going to pry. He had been truthful with her for the asking so far. Specializing in fire meant he was most likely a Dark Caster, she knew.

“Those look like Lichtenburg figures,”

“What is lightning but a different form of fire?” He shrugged, finally freeing the label from his bottle. “So let me ask about you.”

“You know Ville and Till? I’m sure they’ve told you what you need to know.” She murmured, sipping her cider. “I’m abnormal.”

“Yeah, and I’m abnormally curious. Why did you leave Helsinki?”

“Wanted to get far away from my mother. Got into an American school with a great scholarship, so I left.” She sighed. “Wasn’t planning on coming back,”

“But you did anyway?”

“People I trusted said this was the best place for me. That I needed to learn from Ville.”

“Now there we are. Why not learn from Till?” He asked, his normal eyebrow raised.

“Should I answer that question or are you just asking because you already know?” She wondered aloud, looking at him levelly. Sure, there was a chance that Einvar didn’t know that Till didn’t teach his many telepathic lovers, but if they went way back she assumed he did. She got her answer as he laughed knowingly and glanced over his shoulder for Moya.

“May we have another round, Miss Moya? And a couple of shots I think.” Vissa was considering her cigarettes when his attention returned. “So Moya wont give you the time of day because Hanna doesn’t like you? Which means Lauri isn’t a fan either.” He was actually speculating now - his good eyebrow raised.

“Well, yeah. So far.” Vissa pulled a cigarette from her pack, shrugging off her blazer so she could put her coat more comfortably.

“An optimist,” He noted, thanking Moya for the assortment of drinks she had brought, including a pair of tar jaloviina shots. Einvar shrugged into a flannel shirt, like that was going to be enough to protect him from the cold.

“Folks usually end up liking me. Don’t know why.” She pointed at the shots. “Before we go outside?”

“That was my thought,” He reached for his shot and held it up for a cheers. “To your new job. I’m hiring you.”

“And if I say no?” She was being facetious but felt a little tingle of joy to hear an affirmative from her potential boss.

“I’ll be very sad,” He faked a frown as she clinked her glass against his. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I’ll pretend to be surprised when you call on Monday.” Vissa toasted before she shot back the brandy.

“Probably before Monday, I’d bet. I’m pushing for Friday.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket as they walked outside.

Chapter Text

“You’re not off the hook yet,” Einvar pried, one hand in his pocket, looking like he was standing outside on a lovely warm day in his shirtsleeves. Vissa was shivering even in her thick down coat without her second layer, but he seemed perfectly comfortable. Was it a mental thing? Like a character from Wheel of Time?

“Aren’t you freezing?” She asked, an eyebrow raised as she lit her cigarette off a fingertip. He seemed impressed by her meager skill - ok, at least interested.

“Man, the things you know and the things you don’t... it’s fascinating.” Einvar beckoned to her, and Vissa hesitantly moved closer and found the air in Einvar’s vicinity to be warmer. “My Talent is fire, remember? I heat the air around me.”

“Very interesting. I want to learn,”

“Well I’ll be happy to teach you, but I’ve heard something about a Block.”

“Generally I just watch what Ville’s doing and learn that way.” Vissa shrugged, searching out her phone when she felt it buzz in a pocket somewhere. “The Block hasn’t gotten in the way too much,”

“You watch? What do you mean?”

“There’s a spot in your mind where you practice magic. If I can find it, I can watch and learn what you’re doing.”

“That’s... a little disturbing.” Einvar took a step back, his eyebrows knit as he considered her for a moment before he seemed to regain his composure.

“Why? I’m a Telepath.” Vissa was a little shocked that Einvar was so freaked out by her admission - and by the momentary chill that enveloped her when he stepped away. Meanwhile, Einvar was considering her seriously.

“Till said you were strong,” He breathed, as if he hadn’t believed what he had been told. “That’s... that’s something else, Vissa. Normally Casters watch each other’s work in a slightly more corporeal way. If at all.”

“I guess I thought it was normal. That’s how I learn from Till and Ville.” She felt deeply self-conscious, frowning up at Einvar. Vissa didn’t want to admit she couldn’t see what Till referred to as the flows of other’s work with the source, not to Einvar. It was something a Caster developed the ability to do once they had worked with the Source for a certain amount of time, and Vissa was clearly at a deficit.

“It’s fascinating. Don’t be upset, I didn’t mean to upset you.” His backpedaling was as interesting as it was endearing, Vissa noted with a smile.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just curious.” She glanced down the road, observing the shoppers as they went about their lives, and what looked like Ville, shoulders hunched against the chilly air. No one else was that gangly.

“A good trait for an Editor.”

“Man, for all this promising, I’m going to be so disappointed if I don’t get this job come Monday,” Vissa laughed, glancing up at the scarred man.

“How do you do this... learning thing?”

“Are you giving me permission? Because it’s not easy to just explain.” There was probably something inadvisable about diving into the mind of an almost complete stranger, but when Einvar nodded Vissa pressed her mind against the outskirts of his, and invited herself in. He wasn’t very well equipped to resist the push of her mind, which was interesting to her. Were most normal Casters like him?

She resisted the temptation to feel his emotions too acutely, instead focusing on finding the spot where his magic emanated. The spot felt warm to her minds touch, which was strange but she chalked it up to his fire expertise.

“Would you mind casting this again?” She asked, glancing up at him as she gestured to the warm air around them.

“You’re in there? You found it?” Vissa couldn’t believe Einvar couldn’t feel her presence - though, she had been working with Till to make herself less noticeable before she left. To alert him to her mental presence, Vissa did the mental equivalent of running a fingertip over a dusty table top in Einvar’s view. He shuddered beside her, his grin broad. “That’s so fascinating.”

She was about to reprimand him - for what, she wasn’t sure, but she felt the need - when he started to cast the spell again. Vissa paid careful attention to how he molded the Source in his mind, noting a new way of handling power that she hadn’t encountered yet. Till was a weaver, Ville a mathematician, and Einvar a sculptor. Perhaps it was what she had been exposed to first, through Till and through the Wheel of Time series she had read voraciously in her youth, but Vissa saw her source much more similarly to weaving. It wasn’t exactly the same way Till did it. Maybe it was more like embroidering - she filled in the holes in her patterns with the expertise of other Casters, repeating their motions.

Einvar finished the spell but let it dissipate, looking at her expectantly. With a sigh and a drag of her cigarette, Vissa retreated from Einvar’s mind and considered the spell. It was chilly without it, she needed to Cast it fast if she could at all with the Block. It didn’t require a ton of her power, she reckoned she should be able to pull what she needed under what she envisioned as the jamb of a door that had locked her power away for so long. As she worked she could feel Ville’s mental caress - he was close enough to invade and watch her work.

It was a simple spell, not incredibly difficult to translate into her version of Casting. In a minute, it was warm around the pair. And Ville, who had just joined them.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?” Ville asked Einvar above her head as he reached for a hug. The man was incredibly affectionate in a way that Vissa had very quickly come to appreciate despite how often he left her feeling uncomfortable.

“She’s certainly fascinating,” It was like hot men decided on weird adjectives to describe her and held onto that. Or maybe it was just people intrigued by her power.

“She’s standing right here,” Vissa complained, and Ville shushed her, stroking her hair with his free hand.

“She really doesn’t like being discussed.” He was ribbing on her now, and Vissa frowned as she tried to escape his grasp.

“So it seems. She’s really good at that mind trick,” Einvar was apparently alright with playing along. Vissa finally managed to pull free from Ville’s arms with a disgusted sigh.

“She picks up Casts incredibly fast that way,” Ville noted.

“I can’t remember ever showing someone a spell once and seeing it replicated flawlessly,” Einvar seemed in awe, talking to Ville but looking at Vissa with half a smile.

“Every time if she can get enough Source for it.”

“Ok, you two, I’ve had enough. See you inside.” Vissa stomped out her cigarette and headed for the door, leaving the men to discuss her power without her present.

Chapter Text

Ville hadn’t hung around long, which wasn’t a shock to Vissa. What was a shock was who he left with - Hanna, of all people, who usually didn’t take home casters when she was hungry. Maybe she was a well-fed vampire.

“Oh, god I hope they’re not going back to Ville’s,” Vissa belatedly realized her future plight aloud with a moan, and drew a raised brow from Einvar. It had been hours since he arrived at the bar, but he was still intermittently quizzing her about her newly-minted powers and her attempts to master them. “Ville and Hanna. Ville is really loud.”

“Is that where you’re staying?”

“Yep.” She managed time wave down Alexi, the other bartender, and requested a shot to take before she popped out for what was likely her last cigarette. “All I wanted was to get pizza on the way home and eat the whole thing in the living room sans-pants.”

“Lofty ambitions,”

“I’d say a whole pizza is lofty, my friend.” Vissa laughed, looking up at Einvar who had his own shot to take. He had gone drink-for-drink with her for the whole night, and had even exceeded her intake.

“You know, if you make that two pizzas you can crash at my place,” Einvar offered as he clinked his glass against hers. Vissa socked back her shot before she could think about what he was saying, collecting her coat and cigarettes.

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea, boss.” She noted finally, her coat unbuttoned as she lit her cigarette because of his little warmth spell.

“Who says?”

“You don’t want to be accused of favoritism before I even start,” She laughed, watching realization dawn on his face.

“You’re the one who went there,” Einvar shook his finger under her nose playfully. “I’m walking you home anyway.”

“Wow, this constant supervision thing is getting old fast,” Vissa frowned. “I’m an adult woman, I can get home alright alone.”

“You’re not an adult Caster, though.” He said, tapping his finger against his nose. “Come on, let’s eat some pizza and I’ll walk you home.”

“Mm, damn. The pantsless part was the most important thing in my plan,” Vissa was stunned by what had just come out of her mouth - and she did a quick mental sweep to make sure she wasn’t somehow being Compulsed by the scarred non-telepath. Nope, it was all her. Einvar raised an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t discourage it, but I’m a little confused.”

“Yeah, yeah, mixed signals. Let’s finish these drinks and find pizza,” Vissa made a break back to the bar for her drink.

It wasn’t long before she found herself walking out of the nearest pizza shop with a pair of large pizzas - a cheese and a pepperoni - and a brilliant grin as Einvar led her to his house. He had picked up lonkero as she waited for the food, a simple thing that was still a treat for Vissa after years without.

“Where are we going?” She asked, cursing at the hot pizza in her hands. Einvar offered her the lonkero as he took the pizza. Vissa raised an eyebrow.

“Fire’s my thing, remember? I’m basically heat proof.” Einvar noted with half a grin, pointing with his free hand as he balanced the pizzas in the other. “I live in that building.”

“Shit, not far at all.”

“It’s a good location. Old church. Great courtyard.” Vissa considered his real estate pitch as he let them into the building.

His apartment was worth the four flights of stairs it took to get into the eaves of the church, Vissa noted as Einvar let them on. The front door opened into something of a hall and led to the enormously open kitchen and living room. He had a pair of bedrooms, and a comfy-looking couch in front of the tv. The space was a little mid century modern for her taste, but it suited the scarred Caster.

“Pants optional, I guess,” Einvar laughed, taking her coat to hang back by the front door, leaving Vissa alone with the alcohol and the pizza. Instead of attacking either, she worked on getting her shoes off.

“We’ll see how frisky I’m feeling after food,” She was only half-joking at this point, and Einvar seemed to know it. “Want a lonkero?”

“Yes, please.”

Vissa popped open the cans as Einvar presented her with a stack of napkins and red pepper flakes.

“How did you know I was going to ask for these?” She joked, giving her whole pie a liberal sprinkle before she picked up a slice.

“Don’t want to sit on the couch?”

“Too hungry,” Vissa noted through a mouthful of food, shaking her head. “Too much magic today.”

“Man I remember those days. You learn to manage it,” Einvar noted, taking a sip of his lonkero.

Chapter Text

“Impressive,”

Vissa had crushed two slices before she even realized it, and glanced up at Einvar sheepishly. God he was hot - was she attracted to ugly dudes, Vissa wondered as she reached for her drink to wash down the last of her second slice. That wasn’t fair to Till or Einvar, as both were handsome men in their own rights. Till when he didn’t wear his Glamour was downright tasty. Einvar's scars were rugged and interesting, and without them he would have been very classically handsome. He looked like a damn action hero.

“Disturbing?” She wasn’t sure if she was talking to him about her pizza eating habits or to herself about her lack of fucking willpower.

“I mean, kind of. You look like a full-fledged Caster, act like one. Smart, you pick up shit fast. And yet, you’re just... a sexy toddler.”

“I do not like that,” Vissa was immediately taken aback and slightly disgusted, but not enough to stop her from considering her next slice.

“Hm, you’re right. That was a little askew.” Einvar had a bird like tendency of tilting his head as he was looking her, while he was thinking. “I’m going to quit while I’m behind.”

“Good call.” Vissa hopped up onto the counter before she picked up her third slice. “I may have been a little ambitious about a whole pizza in these pants.”

“Wasn’t the plan to be pantsless?”

“Yeah, but I’m not going to take my pants off and eat pizza with a cute guy. Especially not my future boss.”

“You keep coming back to that,” Einvar noted, considering his pizza. “Why do you care?”

Vissa paused for a moment, considering. Why did she care, why was she stopping herself from pursuing him? Was it really because she was worried that he would appear to be biased toward her? Who would even know outside of their group of Others? She felt her phone buzz, and pulled it from her pocket to see a text from Till. It made her smile without thinking about it, but she turned it over on the marble counter, looking back up at Einvar’s scarred face.

“I guess that’s why,” He murmured, chewing thoughtfully. He didn’t sound hurt or upset, just curious and insightful.

“What?”

“Whoever just texted you. I’m guessing Till?”

“He’s not waiting for me, why do you think I’m waiting for him?” Vissa asked, chewing her lip.

“Was that rhetorical?”

She stared at him for a long moment, considering what he had said. He had hit the nail on the head, what a skilled journalist he had to have been. She was waiting for Till, but he had expressly told her not to. Vissa considered her phone for a minute, but instead she hopped off the edge of the counter and straightened, knuckling the small of her back. Einvar watched her closely, his head tilted in that birdlike way as she stripped off her pants, folding them carefully.

Vissa was free to pursue anyone she wanted, it wouldn't be cheating on Till because they weren’t together. He had told her as much. But why did she feel so naughty? She needed to get over it.

Vissa leaned with her hands on the counter, watching Einvar’s eyes sweep over her. He grunted something that sounded like approval. that was it? Really? After all of that, just a grunt?

She sighed and turned to find her cigarettes, remembering her coat was in the foyer. She fetched them back to the kitchen, but paused in the doorway. Einvar leaned against the near side of the kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest, pantsless.

“Oh my god,” The giggles took over almost immediately, and Vissa found herself gripping her sides as she laughed at him. “Oh, I didn’t expect that,”

“You didn’t?”

“No, but I like it,” She murmured, recognizing the lust in her own voice as she tossed her cigarettes on the counter behind him.

“Do you want to eat pizza in your underwear?” He asked with a wry grin as she ran a fingertip up his thigh. Vissa’s hand stopped to rest on his hip as she considered pushing up his shirt, but before she could, his scarred hand tipped up her chin. Einvar’s left side was completely covered in Lichtenburg figures, like incredibly interesting ‘natural’ tattoos. His right was tattooed extensively. Everything about him was up her alley.

Vissa looked up at him through her eyelashes, chewing her lip in anticipation. Einvar pressed his face close to hers, his stubble skimming her cheek. Fuck, he was so warm. She smiled against his face, holding his hip.

“Did you want a cigarette?” He asked, the corner of his lips brushing against hers.

“Sort of. You’re so warm,” Vissa turned her lips toward his, but Einvar turned his face away as she moved, clearly enjoying her chase.

“I’ll be warm outside, too.” She could hear the grin in his voice as she started to pull away, reaching for her cigarettes. Einvar’s swept her hair off the back of her neck and pressed his lips against her skin, his arm wrapped around her waist. Vissa couldn’t help but shiver at his touch, goosebumps rippling across her skin.

“Are you cold?” Einvar asked, his breath hot on her skin, his voice low and lusty. She shook her head, pressing her body back against his. He groaned against her skin as he slowly coaxed her to turn.

His warm hands enveloped her face, and he pressed his lips to hers. Vissa couldn’t help her grin as she kissed him back, pressing their bodies together. Einvar drew her body into his as they kissed, their lips parting for mere seconds to reposition before they met again. She could feel his scars against her skin, under her fingertips as she squeezed his arm.

Slowly, he shifted his hands under her seat and lifted her up onto the counter. Fuck did she love it when guys manhandled her. He still held a handful of her ass as he kissed her, his other hand balled up in her hair until suddenly, his warmth pulled away. He laughed, running a fingertip down her nose, down her lips.

“Come on, lets have that cigarette.”

Chapter Text

Vissa leaned into Einvar’s side, enjoying his warmth thanks to that handy spell he had taught her.

One of the only things that bugged Vissa about being a Caster - aside from being considered a “young” Caster and feeling she was just starting a career from scratch - was that spells didn’t really have names. Casting, which was the formal name for casting spells, was a subdivision of someone's Skills, but there was no “lumos,” no “accio.” It drove her wild, so she had started to make up her own names for each spell.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, kissing her temple between breaths of her cigarette. So far, Einvar was somehow much more affectionate than Till, and while Vissa was doing her best not to compare them, she liked it.

“Just trying not to be preoccupied.” She admitted, accepting his slow kiss on her lips.

“Why be preoccupied?” He asked, his lips brushing against hers. “You want to be Dark? Be Dark.”

“What’s so Dark about this?” Vissa wondered aloud, running her finger along his jaw.

“‘Do what thou wilt.’” He quoted, seeking her fingers with his teeth.

“Yeah, are you saying that I’m harming someone? Because I’ve heard the sayings.” She frowned through a breath of her cigarette.

“Not at all. But first and foremost you need to focus on what makes you happiest. That's the main tenet of being Dark.” He smiled against her fingertips where they were pressed against his lips.

Vissa chewed her own lip for a moment, considering what Einvar was saying. She was standing on a balcony with a hot guy, and neither of them were wearing pants. Despite being her boss, Einvar was clearly into Vissa. Why did she always try to deny herself what she wanted?

Instead of dithering any more, Vissa let her fingers trail down his face, pulling down his lip as she pressed her hips into his. She had to rise onto her tiptoes to kiss his waiting lips, holding her cigarette far from their bodies.

Einvar’s hand swept down Vissa’s side to grab a handful of her ass, pulling her hips harder into his.

She felt breathless as they parted, her head swimming after the contact even though right now no one was even rifling through it. It was almost a strange sensation, not having her partner's mind in hers as they kissed. Einvar’s caress was entirely physical - and incredibly warm.

“Are you happy, or just proving me wrong?” Einvar joked, flicking his cigarette over the edge of the balcony so he could dedicate both hands to pulling her into his body.

“Yes.”

He chuckled and kissed her again, holding her face with his other hand. Vissa let the cigarette slip from her fingers and gripped the front of his button-up as his tongue slipped past her teeth.

Einvar wrapped one arm under her ass, pulling her feet off the ground as he straightened up from leaning on the balcony railing. She managed to wrap her legs around his narrow waist as he moved, chewing his earlobe.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Well, I think I want a little more to drink. A slice of pizza. To bring you to my bed and convince you to stay there until morning,” He paused to open the double French doors that led back into the apartment, holding her up with one arm.

“In that order?”

“Doesn’t have to be,” He murmured as he shut the door. Vissa had focused a series of kisses on his scarred skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Why don’t we start in the bed and see where the night takes us?” She posited, gratified by his chuckle as he carried her through the quiet house. Einvar reached with one hand to flip the lights in his bedroom, padding toward what she assumed to be the bed.

Instead of laying her down, he knelt on the bed, holding her as he settled on his knees. Vissa sat on his thighs, her lips hovering above his as she held his smiling face in her hands. He slipped a hand under her shirt, reaching his lips up toward hers as he started to suss off the garment. She let him, helping to guide the long, buttoned sleeves over her hands.

“Oh, wow,” Einvar’s fingertips trailed down her arms, tracing the tattoos on her skin. “I had no idea,”

“Does that affect your hiring decision?” Vissa asked with a mischievous grin, tilting his chin up so she could plant her lips on his. As they kissed, she worked at his buttons while his hands made themselves busy exploring her skin and the clasps of her bra.

“I’m a fan,” He murmured as she found his last button. Einvar shifted to let her pull the shirt off. He really was a fan, she noted, as she unveiled the full extent of his tattoos. He had a beautiful Viking-themed chest piece that swirled into half-sleeves on both arms. Apparently, the jagged scars of his Lichtenburg figures could be tattooed over. “I cover them up at work.”

“Naturally,” Vissa murmured as she trailed her fingers over his arms, feeling the scars on his tattooed left side.

He didn’t let her inspect his skin for long, distracting her with his lips on her neck. His fingers paused at the clasp of her bra, as if waiting for permission to undo it.

Chapter Text

“What are you waiting for?” Vissa asked, hoping she sounded as coy as she felt.

“I want you,” So they weren’t being coy, Vissa realized with a smile. She pulled Einvar's lips up to hers, planting a sloppy, passionate kiss on his lips. She felt Einvar unclip her bra, but their bodies were pressed together so he couldn’t pull it off her.

“What do you want from me?” Vissa asked, trying not to grin too widely lest she ruin the moment.

“I want your body,” Einvar’s breath was hot on her throat, holding her by the hips. “I want to feel you,”

“Oh yeah? And what do I get?” Vissa started to pull her bra from between them, but Einvar seemed reluctant to pull his body from hers.

“Fuck, Vissa,” He murmured, kissing the underside of her chin tantalizingly. “I want to fuck you, I want to make you come for me,”

“What are you waiting for?” She asked again, hooking her index finger into his cheek to pull him away from her skin. It was a bold move that allowed her to get one arm out of the strap.

Einvar pushed her backwards onto her feet so she stood on his bed, and rose onto his knees as he pulled her underwear down. God, she had been in them all day, but he didn’t seem to care about her musk as he sunk his lips onto her clit. His tongue was greedy, lapping at her labia as he pulled her thighs apart, looking to go deeper. Vissa let herself sink into the delight of his touch.

“Oh, Einvar,” She moaned, feeling his grin spread as he ate her out, his tongue slipping inside her.

He was good. It took a lot for her to keep herself from comparing him to Till, focused on reveling in his touch as he sent little thrills up her spine. Finally, she could take it no more. She dug her hands into his curls, pulling his face up to his so she could kiss him.

“Oh? Done with me?” He taunted, holding his lips away from hers.

In lieu of an answer, Vi pushed on his hips with hers, turning Einvar underneath her so she could fix her lips to his and struggle to yank his underwear off. Laughing - with or at her, she wasn’t sure - Einvar pushed a hand against her chest, shifting her to the side so he could disrobe for her. Ok, one-handed underwear stripping wasn’t her forte.

Chewing her lip, Vi took stock of the whole package. The scars on his side drifted over his upper hip, just barely touching the top of his well-muscled thigh. He was built entirely differently than Till, with a narrow waist, but in her experience Team Dark Caster seemed to be focused on keeping themselves svelte. Einvar was no exception, with abs she could wash a t-shirt on. Maybe there was an exercise spell for that.

Vissa let her fingers trail over his package, to take a handful of a dick already standing at attention. Einvar was, in a word, endowed. Hung like nothing she had ever seen.

“Committing that to memory?” He asked, a smirk on his lips. He was so arrogant.

Vissa liked it.

Instead of answering, she repositioned herself over Einvar, aligning her hips with his. He was going to be easy to work with - she was going to have to be careful not to get herself over the edge too quickly. It was a thought she had to hold in the forefront of her mind as she sunk into him, taking every inch of that fuckable redwood of a dick.

The thought made Vi laugh - and since Einvar wasn’t in her mind like Till would be, the look he fixed her was one of concern.

“Sorry, a thought.” His unscarred eyebrow rose higher, obviously waiting for an answer. “Fuckable redwood.”

“Who, me?” Einvar shifted his hips under her, almost driving home the point as Vi giggled on top of him, making him squirm. “Fuck, you clamp down when you laugh,”

“Don’t like it?” She asked, trying to be coy as she pulled his lip down with his thumb. He fixed his hands on her hips, thrusting just a little into her. Vi shifted, starting her careful rise and fall.

“Hate it,” He managed, chewing on the pad of her thumb, his hands hard on her hips. “I gotta flip you over or I’ll finish,”

“Let me tell you a secret,” Vi leaned to whisper in his ear, letting her lips brush against his ear. “That’s what I want.” Einvar shivered under her, one hand sneaking up to wrap in her hair.

“Gods above I want you, Vi,” He murmured, matching her rhythm with his.

“Come for me, Ei.” She couldn’t help but goad him on, feeling that familiar sense of lightheadedness washing over her.

He obliged, pressing hard into her, but Vi wouldn’t let him stop. Or, rather she didn’t stop as he tensed up. Instead she rode his finish, finding hers waiting at the top.

An uncharacteristic moan escaped her lips - a sigh, like some affected southern woman, shocked by the state of affairs. Her head swam with the ferocity of her orgasm, and it was almost hard to hold herself upright. Fuck, what a dick.

Einvar flipped her over, his lips on hers as he held her knees in the crook of his arms, still buried deep inside her. Vi yelped, but settled into the pleasure of the shock.

“Vissa,” Her name tumbled from his lips as he braced an arm over her head, smiling. “You’re not normal, you know that?”

“I give him good sex and he insults me,” Vi murmured, stroking his scarred cheek.

“Believe me. It’s a good thing.” He murmured, pressing his lips to hers. “Would you like to return to items one and two on our to do list?”

“Pizza and drinks?” She asked hopefully. “I may need to wear pants though. Unless you like your counters clear coated.”

“I can fix that. It’s a good spell for you to have - I have a feeling you’re going to be a hot commodity.”

“I love how you say that like I have no say in the matter.” Vi frowned as he slipped a finger inside her, next to his dick. Holy shit that was too much, and she squirmed for a second until he pulled it out.

“Just telling it like it is. Come on, mind meld with me, Spock.” Curious, and still a little on edge from the sharp sensation of his finger, Vissa pressed her mind into Einvar’s, ignoring her own private innuendo about penetration as she did so. She had to make her way quickly to the recesses of his power as he started to cast.

Like most spells she had learned, this one required only a trickle of the Source, but she learned from his swirling memories that it would leave her free and clear of any complications from their sex - fluids, infections, spawn, anything she could think of. The things that made sex even remotely unpleasant to her. It was intriguing.

Ok, sure. It couldn’t make passionless sex disappear, but judging by the way Einvar couldn’t keep his lips off hers, that wouldn’t be an issue in whatever this relationship became.

Chapter Text

Fuck was she tired of being in her interview outfit Vissa mused as she gave Einvar a long, lingering kiss goodbye. He didn’t have the same reservations about her walking home alone in the morning light, but he had treated her to breakfast, which was nice of him. Leisurely pancakes and bacon wearing only one of his shirts had been a real treat. It had been a while since a one night stand didn’t kick her out - or get kicked out themselves - and the notion wasn’t lost on her.

Would he be a one night stand though, she mused as she made her way to Ville’s house. The lock opened at the coaxing of her mind, a trick she figured out all on her own by visualizing the right key when she had forgotten hers one night.

Vissa skipped the kitchen, where she could smell desperately-needed coffee, and instead headed upstairs to her borrowed bedroom. She needed different pants and a rinse before she dealt with Ville. Her new favorite sexual sequoia had done a number on her thighs.

Freshly-washed and in the comfiest pair of leggings she could find, Vissa toyed with her phone as she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. Ville lay on his stomach on the counter, coffee next to his head and feet kicking in the air as he hummed a bar or two and scribbled in his book. The pose was vaguely childlike but oddly endearing, and Vissa had only seen Ville lay that way when he was writing a particularly good set of lyrics. The idea that so many telepaths were in the music business was still odd to Vissa, but she glossed over the consideration as she greeted Ville with a brush of her mind and summoned a coffee cup to hand.

“Oh, welcome back, darling,” Ville teased, looking up at her with his chin in hand.

“Fresh pot?”

“Of course,” His grin was intense as he eyed her up and down. “You went home with Einvar last night.”

“Sure.” She murmured as she summoned coffee from the pot into the mug.

“Don’t be ashamed, love. He’s a catch.”

“I’m not ashamed. But I do feel guilty.” Vissa leaned on the counter opposite Ville, stirring the coffee with a fingertip and the power of her mind. Ville had told her she could do it without the physical cue, but the swirling motion was a little difficult for her to conceptualize, and she found it easier to make the motion. One day she’d figure it out.

“Why on earth do you feel guilty?” Ville asked, writing the word on a fresh page of his notebook.

“I don’t know, Ville. I feel like I have a good thing with Till and I don’t want to spoil it.”

“That’s very mortal of you.” He shrugged, jotting down a few other notes. She peered at the page, finding she couldn’t really read what he was writing from across the kitchen with a frown.

“Are you writing a song about this?”

“This is the danger of living with me. And having a... tumultuous love life. For a mortal.”

“And for a Caster?”

“Incredibly risqué for a Light. For a Dark you’re about three lovers short of a hand.” He paused to consider the words on the page. “Something like half a dozen is considered a full deck.”

“Like, ever?”

“Oh, no, darling. At a time.” Ville wrote something down before he realized she was staring at him in shock, mouth agape. “Not all at once, you don’t need to participate in an orgy every night.”

The way he said that - with an emphasis on the word ‘every’ - set Vissa to sipping her coffee to occupy her mouth so she didn’t make any other exclamations of shock. Good god, six men - or more? She couldn’t even imagine juggling that many sleepovers. Vissa pulled out her phone, glancing up at Ville to make sure he was engrossed in his writing again. He was at least pretending to be focused on the page, so she pulled out a cigarette and her phone.

'What are you up to?' It was the last text Till had sent the night before - he wasn’t the type to pester with a million follow-ups.

'Good morning,' She returned his text, knowing she wasn’t going to get away with pretending she didn’t get his last message. Vissa noticed Ville had glanced up at her, chewing his pen as he considered her.

'Had a good night?'

'Yeah. You?' She typed a million iterations of a reply until she settled on two words, still frowning at her phone as she sent them.

'Ville said you didn’t come home.'

'He’s more observant than he seems'. Vissa shot the man a glare and found him grinning at her. 'I just got home.'

'Einvar?' Did she even want to give that the dignity of a reply? No, she didn’t. Vissa let her eclipses chug along as she frowned at her phone. 'I’m not upset. Just curious.'

'Reads like jealousy to me.'

'Shouldn’t. I had a hotel night. Took home a lovely blonde mortal. Don’t remember her name.'

'Cute.'

'Now who’s jealous?' He had a point. 'I’m not angel. Of course I’m a little jealous. If I were there it’d be me. But I’m not. So it’s not.'

'Gott weiss ich will kein Engel sein.' She texted back playfully, quoting one of her favorite songs of his. She tried to play down the fact that she was a Rammstein fan for Till’s sake, but the quip has just written itself.

'Ha, ha.'

'Sorry. I had a good time.' She didn’t need to apologize but the word flowed from her fingertips. So she corrected herself so Till wouldn’t. 'I’m not sorry, actually.'

'I’m glad. Learn anything?'

'A little fire magic.' She wasn’t sure if she wanted to mention the trick she had learned, and wondered if Till knew it himself. He had never used it during their endeavors.

'Interesting.'

'Why?' Ville had glanced up at her again, an eyebrow raised. She flipped him off. 'Something I don’t know about Einvar?'

“Texting Till?”

“I happen to be,” She pulled her legs up so she was perched cross-legged on the counter.

'I’m sure you’ll find out.'

“Don’t like that,” Vissa grumbled aloud, getting a raised brow from Ville. “He’s insinuating things about Einvar.”

“Like?”

“I’m not sure.” Till had send a picture of his grin, tongue pressed against the back of his teeth. Fuck she missed that man. “He asked what I had learned.”

“Ah,”

“Don't be like that. Why do you two know more about who I’m sleeping with than I do?” She texted the same question she had asked aloud to Ville to Till and sighed, reaching for the coffee pot to refill her mug.

Vissa had barely lifted her finger off the "send" button on the text when her phone began to buzz.

Chapter Text

“Schatz, Ville.”

“Tillie!” Ville was up in a flash, and crossed the kitchen with quick strides to sit beside Vissa on the counter. “Great news! Hanna says she doesn’t hate you!”

“Lovely. Let me talk to my girl?”

“Your girl?” Vissa joked, giving Ville a peck on the cheek before she wandered onto his back porch with her cigarettes. “That’s an interesting one,”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t judge me. I’m old and I miss you.” She could hear his smile, and it made her smile too. “These Italian girls can’t hold a candle to my Fin.”

“For someone who’s not jealous -“ Vissa began smiling as she leaned against the railing of the deck.

“I’m not jealous. I’m allowed to miss you. It’s good to want.” She started to cast Einvar’s warming spell to keep her warm in just her leggings and a tank top.

“So wise,” She sighed. “I miss you too. Why are you being so cryptic about Einvar?”

“I’m surprised that he let you off without teaching you any sex magic,”

“Oh, is that his other Talent?” She tried to sound offhand but she was a little shocked - tender, attentive Einvar specialized in sex magic?

“Don’t go off on some kinky limb, leibling. Sex magic isn’t wild like you’re thinking.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“I’ve been in your head.” He had a point. Vissa sighed. “But I’m not calling to talk about how much I want you or chat about your new lover. I need you to do something.”

“Sure,”

“I need you to bring Ville to Read your mother.”

“Fuck, Till,” She murmured, taken aback. “Because last time I saw her I almost killed her and convinced her I wasn’t in Helsinki,”

“You did brilliantly. I need a better Read.”

“God, I don’t want to see her,” She frowned even though he couldn’t see her.

“I know, Vissa. And I understand. But we need to find Odessa so we can lift your Block.” He paused like he had just lit a cigarette and was taking a deep breath. “Fuck, I cannot wait to see you without a Block,”

“Oh yeah? That make you hard?”

“Well that and you talking about my dick,” He laughed. “Can we go back to Ville? I should tell him what I need.”

“I haven’t said yes.”

“I don’t like to tell you what to do, but you have to, mein herz.” Rather than argue with him, Vissa was already on her way back inside to look for Ville, summoning another cup of coffee as she let the warmth spell dissipate.

“Fuck, maybe I’ll just stay Blocked. It’ll be better than my own mother trying to murder me again.” She glowered as she found Ville back in his spot on the kitchen counter, writing gleefully. The juxtaposition of Till and Ville’s music had always been funny to Vissa - the fact that Ville, the polyamorous and proud Dark caster who didn’t believe in love wrote dark love songs and Till wrote about truly dark subjects always made her laugh.

“No, it won’t. You’ll outlive her.” Vissa had flipped the phone to speaker as Till replied, and Ville looked up with a quirked brow.

“Who are you outliving?”

“My Witch Hunter mother.” Vissa shrugged. “Who Till wants us to go chat with.”

“Oh, like now?” Ville shifted to sit cross-legged, like he was considering getting off the counter.

“Maybe not now,”

“But soon,” Till’s tinny voice filled the kitchen as Vissa sipped her fresh cup of coffee, contemplating what to have for breakfast.

“I’m curious. What for? Why me?” Surely Ville had answered those questions for himself already but likely wanted Till and Vissa to answer them for him.

“I need you to take a closer look in her head. Last time was a little overwhelming. I didn’t get enough to track Odessa down.”

“If it even is Odessa.” Ville considered, tapping a finger to his lips.

“That’s also a possibility. I was pretty sure then, but considering it now, I’m not.” She could hear Till’s shrug in his voice.

“What am I looking for?”

Vissa only half-listened as Till gave him the more detailed version of what he had seen when he peered into Joanna’s mind, the level of detail he would need to track down the person who had put down Vissa’s Block.

“It could be another Block - obscuring their identity as the last telepath you thought of.” Ville offered helpfully.

“That would have been you or Vissa,” Till countered.

“Alright. Maybe we can get her to a mutual location..." Vissa began, cutting herself off after a moment. "You don’t care about the details. I’ll call you after.”

“Be careful. She’s not some decrepit washout. If I hadn’t realized what her damn clock was she’d have stabbed me.” Till paused. “And Ville?”

“Yeah?” His mind was already a million miles away, probably thinking about how to best pull off his mental heist.

“You’ll have to do a guided on Vissa,”

“So I need to teach her to meditate,”

“You haven’t fucking -“ Till took a sharp breath, stopping himself. “Yes. You’d better. Vissa? Take me off speaker.”

Till’s address caught her off guard and she reached for her phone.

“Mein herz,” His murmur was deep and rumbling, the kind that sent goosebumps racing across her skin. Vissa paced into the living room. “This will be fine. You will be fine. You know that?”

“I don’t know that, but I’m hopeful. I need Ville to not kill my mother,”

“Get her to a neutral location. Somewhere public. You’ll all be fine.” Till sighed for the umpteenth time in their conversation, and it sounded like he was rubbing his eyes. “I’ll need to talk to you when you learn to meditate.”

“Why?”

“Guided exercise. We’ll see what else we can find out in your own head.”

“Won’t Ville reading my mother be enough?”

“In theory. But it might not be. And this is a skill you need to learn anyway. I think I know why Ville doesn’t want to teach you, so once you learn I can help.” His grumble made her raise an eyebrow, a useless gesture she couldn't see through the phone.

“Why?”

“You should ask him, herz. I’ve gotta go. Please be safe?”

“He asks me to see my murderous, Witch Hunter mother and asks me to be safe?” She asked, incredulously. Till’s chuckle drew a pang of longing, and she found herself frowning. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

Chapter Text

As she and Ville waited for Joanna at a quaint little coffee shop downtown, Vissa toyed with her phone, flipping it around in her hand as she so often did when she was stressed.

“This is not going to be fun,” She murmured to Ville, who was grinning brightly through his Glamour. He was dressed as the quintessential American man - if the quintessential American man looked like Joe Manganiello - and was doing his best to act like with the swagger befitting his station.

“It’s going to be great. All you needed to do was get her here.” It was a good thing Ville didn't need to pretend to be a big, burly American for too long, he was terrible at it.

“And keep her busy while you read her.” Vissa’s eyes swept the crowd and she spotted her mother. “Alright. Pretend you love me.”

“I do love you. Just not like that,” Ville protested, but clambered to his feet with her anyway.

“Äiti!” Vissa did her best to be as warm and inviting as she would be to her mother - which was to say barely at all. She gave Joanna a cold hug, turning to Ville. “This is my boyfriend, William,”

“William? So American. Is that’s what’s wrong with him?” Her mother was careful to speak in Finnish as she shook Ville’s glamoured hand. Vissa had to fight to conceal a grin. She waited for Joanna to continue as they all sat down. “There has to be something wrong with him,”

“William’s parents are Finnish. And Swedish. He speaks both.” Joanna’s look of shock was worth the taunting, and Vissa couldn’t help but be thankful for Ville’s quiet tolerance.

“Are you good, Vi?” He asked quietly as Joanna addressed the waitress too curtly. She had started to cast the spell she had learned from Till on the plane, the one that would make folks look past them for a while.

“Yeah, go ahead,” She murmured back, squeezing his forearm hard as she tried not to glare at her mother. The spell settled in place as the waitress left, probably forgetting Joanna’s order entirely.

Vissa felt a shiver as Joanna sat down in her seat, her face blank. Ville had broken into her mother’s mind, and it didn’t look like he was being gentle. Vissa could feel the tension as he searched for the information he needed while wiping tiny portions of memories - as Vissa had agreed was necessary. Not enough to make her forget who and what she was, but Vi wanted Joanna to consider retirement.

“So Will and I met in America after I found out I had been fired from my job. My friends made me go out on a weekday...” Vissa found herself telling the story of how she met Till to her mother, who was basically incapacitated as Ville dug through her mind. Joanna would never know that she was talking about the man that broke her clock - a person she probably couldn’t even remember meeting.

“And so I let him walk me home,” Vissa glanced at Ville, who had a look of deep concentration on his face. Basically what he was doing - how he had explained it - was downloading almost the entirety of her mother’s memories so he could search through them all later. There wouldn’t be enough time to read through them now.

“I know what you’re thinking - my kid’s a slut, this isn’t what I taught her to do, one night stands, sinful. But I didn’t sleep with him that night. Well I slept with him but I didn’t fuck him,” Vissa’s tone was low, and Ville and Joanna nodded occasionally like they were paying attention but neither really was. “He had a girlfriend, see? But I like that he wasn’t willing to really cheat on her or treat her badly even though she wasn’t like us.”

“So I waited for a few weeks and when I had to come back to Finland, there he was. Nice and single. He brought me back to Helsinki. Gave me a place to stay. And he had to leave again. It’s awful. I miss him terribly,” In the off chance that either of them were listening she had to make it sound like she was potentially talking about the man Ville was disguised as, not Till Lindemann.

“He’s very sweet. I think you’d like him if you weren’t you. But you’re you, so you don’t like any man I like. Or anyone who treats me well at all.” She paused to reign in her emotions with a frown and realized that Ville was looking at her with an eyebrow raised.

“I’m done, Vi,” He murmured, his hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to finish it or should I?”

The question caught Vissa off guard for a moment before she realized he meant wiping this encounter from her mother’s mind. She sighed.

“You’ll do a better job. Just... be gentle I guess?”

“I could make her forget you exist, you know.” Ville murmured, rubbing her shoulder. He must have picked up how upset she really was even though she had tried to calm herself after her little outburst.

“No, not yet. We may still need her.” Vissa reached out to touch Ville’s mind so she could watch what he was doing to reconfigure her mother’s memory of the day. “Just send her home.”

Chapter Text

Vissa felt like she had just as much to sort through as Ville did with Joanna’s memories, but instead of sitting with Ville as he sorted it out for Till, she went upstairs to lay down. She was exhausted.

She pulled off her clothes slowly, leaving a trail from the door to her borrowed bed. Vissa scrolled through her phone, finding an album to listen to as she wrapped herself in one of the pair of comforters draped across the king bed. She lounged for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling for a moment before she grabbed her phone to text Till.

'It’s done. Ville is sorting it out now.'

'Are you ok?' Typical Till, ignoring the information she had just given him to make sure she wasn’t upset.

'I will be.' How did someone sigh via text? 'She started off by insulting "William."'

'What did he Glamour himself as? '

'Big, broad American guy. It couldn’t be him because Joanna would know that wasn’t my type.' Vissa laughed to herself, dragging the blankets around herself into a little cocoon.

'How would she know?' Vissa sensed a giggle through his text. He had a point, Joanna really wouldn’t have known.

'Good point.' She let the phone fall by her head, wrapping herself more tightly in the cocoon of comforters. She needed the nap - it had been a long couple of days, and she still hadn’t heard from Einvar or the media company.

Even with that kind of stress, Vissa managed to drift off, warm in the big bed if a little lonely by herself.

The weight of someone leaning against her bed jarred Vissa awake, and she sat bolt upright, holding the blankets to her chest.

“Hey, it’s just me.”

“Ville?” She felt bleary, a little shocked after having been woken up abruptly. But it was Ville at the foot of her bed, reaching to squeeze her exposed foot. “Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to check on you,” He laid back into the bed, stretching his soundly limbs. “I’m... halfway through your mother’s memories.”

“Yeah?” Vissa extracted an arm from her cocoon and reached to stroke his curls.

“Yep. I’m not a fan,”

“Neither am I.”

“So I came to hold you,”

“You don’t need to,” It was the truth - she wasn’t that close to Ville yet and she was in bed basically naked. It was sweet that he cared, but she still hadn’t grown to trust the man like she trusted Till.

He scooted closer to her, reaching for her cocoon. “I’ve seen it, Vissa. Your childhood.”

“Oh, don’t do the pity thing, Ville, I can’t handle the pity thing.” She retreated into her blankets, covering her head again. No, she really didn’t want to deal with this. Vissa was kicking herself for not seeing this as a repercussion of Ville downloading the depth and breadth of her mother’s memories.

“Can I see your arms?” Vissa froze, frowning deeply. Of course he would know about the cigarette burns under her tattoos if he saw her mother’s memories. They had been well-covered for years under sleeves and ink.

“Why? You only have her memories, don’t you think she was justified?” She murmured, staring blankly at the inside of the blankets.

“Nothing can justify this, Vissa. Parents don’t do that to their kids.” There was genuine concern in his voice, and Vissa popped her head out of the comforters so she could look at him incredulously. “Vi,”

“Why did she do it? You have her memories, why did she do these things?” She murmured, pulling her arms out of the blankets behind her head. Ville reached out to her and stroked his fingers down her skin. Sure, people had commented about the scars under her tattoos before, but they usually didn't last long once they had asked.

Ville paused as he stroked her arms, feeling the bumps and ridges under her tattoos. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, frowning.

“I shouldn’t say,”

“God, Ville. My relationship with her is beyond repair.” She sat up fully, staring at Ville. “Why did she hurt me? Why did she hate me?”

Vissa realized how small her voice sounded, and was disgusted with herself. Did she need to sound like such a mess of a human? She didn’t need the pitying look Ville gave her as he reached for her shoulders, so he could wrap her in a hug. She let him pull her out of her cocoon, into his chest.

“Vi,”

“Why?” She wasn’t so emotional that she couldn’t brush up against his mind, asking to be let in. Ville pulled her hard into his chest, his arms wrapped under her breasts and his face buried in her shoulder like he was the one who needed comforting. She touched her fingertips to his, wrapping their hands together. “Why?”

Chapter Text

She didn’t so much as enter Ville’s mind as tumble into a memory that didn’t belong to either of them. Vissa tried to suppress a mental gasp as she fell into the role of an observer in one of her mother’s memories. She could see herself as a child, blonde-haired and bright eyed in Joanna’s eyes. For a moment, even she couldn’t remember why her younger self was sobbing.

“How dare you!” Oh, right. This was going to hurt.

There was an added dimension, though. Outside of her childhood fright of being screamed at by her mother. With Joanna’s memories on hand, Vissa might be able to answer the question of why. Why was Joanna screaming at her?

Vissa let herself fall into Joanna’s thoughts, wondering what had been going through her mind as she abused her own child with frightening regularity.

It was hard to justify the abuse because to Vissa, and Ville, who's mind held the memories and who's opinion colored them just a little, it was unjustifiable. Joanna’s thoughts were a jumble - Vissa could pick out a few threads from the tangle. One resounding thought was why - why did Vissa continue to act out? Joanna had sacrificed so much for the child, would it be too much to ask for her to simply be the perfect child in return?

Vaguely, distantly, Vissa could remember what Joanna said she had done. Something to do with school this time, some failing on her part to succeed because her head was in the clouds. It happened often enough, and it was because Vissa was a daydreamer, always reading under her desk, always writing stories in the margins of her notebooks. According to Joanna, it didn’t befit a young girl to act that way. And despite the fact that her teachers were excited to try and work with young Vissa to cater to her skill set, Joanna was upset she wasn’t showing talent in more STEM-related fields.

Joanna felt Vissa needed to be a STEM kid, grounded and normal, because of her obvious failings of humanity. The ungrateful brat failed to succeed.

After all that sacrifice. After giving up her career as a Witch Hunter, all her aspirations, to have a child, the kid had the gall to be born a dirty Caster. And then, after after all the hoops Joanna had to jump through to get her fixed, all the efforts she had made and the disgusting witches she had to deal with, the child would obviously fail to follow in its mother’s footsteps.

The thought of her sacrifice for the child filled Joanna’s mind so fully with each blow that even Vissa started to think she deserved it again.

Ville started to pull her from the memory, away from the abuse her childish self was getting, but Vissa resisted. There was another one she wanted to see, if only to see if she had even remembering it correctly for years.

Sixteen-year-old Vissa had brought a boy home for dinner, and just as Joanna had expected, it was another one of her good-for-nothing alternative types who had ridden up on his motorbike. God how cliche this rotten daughter of hers was.

The insight of Joanna’s thoughts was strange to Vissa’s non-corporeal mind. In a way, it was nice to see where these thoughts originated from in Joanna’s obviously sick headspace, but her mother still wasn’t justified in her actions. If anything, it made Vissa feel more vindicated as she watched her much-younger self shout at her mother about how she should treat people with respect - why didn’t she ever bother to treat anyone with respect? Not even her husband, that was why he left, wasn’t it?

It was a very erudite line of thinking from a young person, and Vissa could mentally applaud herself even though she knew what was going to come next. The clock had started ticking louder, something Vissa thought had only happened in her memories, but it seemed the instrument had been tracking anger-related rises in her Caster abilities for years. Every time it ticked, Joanna got a little more angry about her Other daughter, about the failings of her career and her womb to have produced such a creature.

Vissa had never realized how much self-hate her mother had taken out on her over the years. It made her cringe. This was a very ill woman. Did she even deserve Vissa’s hatred?

As Joanna calmly pressed her cigarette butt into Vissa’s arm, berating her with a level tone as she held her daughter’s limb in an insanely firm grasp honed over a career of pinning down Vampires, Vissa realized that Joanna deserved every ounce of hate. Her mother didn’t even have the decency to shout at her after a certain point, delivering all of her abuse in that calm and almost bored tone, like she was reading a grocery list aloud. What’s worse was that despite her struggling, Vissa never could break that iron grasp, and she had learned it was better to just take the abuse.

She remembered this moment. It was far from the first burn, the first berating in that calm tone. But it was the first time Vissa had experienced it after talking to her counselors at school about college. And she was going to go abroad. She knew it. The only bright spot on her end of the memory.

This time she let Ville pull her out of Joanna’s memories, and as she returned to her corporeal form, Vissa realized she was crying into his chest. How embarrassing, she realized distantly. A grown ass woman, mostly naked and crying into her teacher’s arms.

She shook as Ville stroked her head, smoothing her hair out of her face. It was a long time before she gathered her wits - and the comforter - about her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have -“

“Do shut up.” Ville cajoled. “That was fucking awful and you don’t need to apologize.”

Vissa leaned her head against his chest, letting the spindly man stroke her hair. He murmured soothing things to her as she stared into space, considering what all of this meant. How much did she really care about Joanna? How much of her mother’s decision-making was actually a benefit to her life? Outside of keeping her alive?

Chapter Text

The buzzing of Vissa’s cell phone was a sad interruption to a tender moment. Ville continued to stroke her hair as she reached for her phone, feeling dazed.

It was Einvar. Vissa sighed and answered the phone.

“Jarvinen,” She could feel Ville’s concern - tinged with disbelief - as she listened for a reply.

“Vissa, hi. It’s Einvar Nylund. I’m here with Noora, is now a good time for a chat?” It was strange to hear him all formal, pretending not to know her when he had literally been inside of her. More than once.

“Hello Einvar. Yes, of course. Now works.” It was tough to keep her voice from trembling, and Ville squeezed her hard to help keep her steady. She was tempted to add a ‘what’s up,’ but decided it would be too informal. Fuck, her Other relationship with Einvar was going to make life difficult. Where were the boundaries?

Ville, still in her mind, squeezed her shoulders. It was a such a small thing but it helped to ground her.

“Hi, Vissa, this is Noora. We met at the interview. I know it’s a little ahead of schedule,” Oh, there it was. Einvar was delivering on his word. What a fucking saint. “We wanted to offer you the Editor position,”

She felt dumbstruck for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to say even though she had known the offer was coming. Vissa worked hard for everything she had in her career, and yet she still felt like she deserved none of it. It was supposedly called imposter syndrome, she had learned, and very normal for millennial women in high-stress careers.

“You don’t have to answer now, but we’d like to schedule another meeting to go over your salary requirements and our benefits package.” Noora was sweet, the kind of HR person Vissa knew would be a good asset.

“Of course, I’m free...” Ville bit back a chuckle behind her as she went over her mental schedule and suggested a time for the next day. When she hung up, she leaned her head back into his chest.

“What’s so funny, William?” Vissa asked with a laugh, tracing the filigree tattoos on his arm. They were interesting - faded, she couldn’t help but wonder when he got them. And if Casters removed their tattoos after a lifetime or two, just to protect their identities.

“You know that call was coming and you froze up,” He explained, biting back another chuckle.

“I did. It’s still surprising to me.”

“Aren’t you good at it? Writing and stuff?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” Vissa didn’t bother to answer Ville’s question, deeming it almost rhetorical in the face of what they had just seen in her mother’s memories. Of course Vissa doubted her worth every chance she had.

Her phone buzzed in her lap, and Vissa picked it up to find a text from Einvar. He was probably still sitting in the office with Noora from HR, texting her to make sure she could still hook up later.

'See you later?' Vissa couldn’t help but snort a laugh as she showed the phone to Ville, who gave her a squeeze.

“So now I only need two more lovers for a hand,” Vissa laughed.

“Let me know where to direct applicants.” Ville stroked her hair. “Why don’t you take a nap and we can go out?”

“Are you going to get up?”

“Think I’ll stay. It’s easier to go through your mother’s shit with someone nearby.” There was the unspoken implication that she was not just a convenient candidate but a very relevant and tangible tether to reality.

“Even if I’m not doing anything?” Vissa asked, glancing backwards to look at Ville’s face upside down.

“Yep. Take your nap.”

She was doing what he asked, beginning to drift off, when something Till had asked her to learn popped back into her head. Ville gave a start as Vissa popped upright off his chest.

“Jesus, what the fuck?!” Ville clutched his chest with one hand, the other palm flat on Vissa’s shoulder. There was a tinge of panic in his voice. “Are you ok? What’s going on?”

“I forgot to ask you something,” She turned, holding the comforter over her bare chest. “I was supposed to ask - Till told me to ask - if you’d teach me to meditate. Remember?”

“Oh, god, girl. You scared the shit out of me.” Ville murmured, shifting to sit straighter against the quilted headboard. “Meditation?” He almost seemed a little dazed, and he may have been after she had yanked him out of his review so abruptly.

“Yeah, is there a quick and dirty?” Vissa asked, pulling the comforter more tightly around her shoulders.

“You always have a quick and dirty option,” Ville laughed, but rubbed his eyes like he was tired.

She felt his mind brush against his and let him pull her in.

“It’s all mental.” Ville directed, stroking her knee. “Just let your mind wander. Breathe in on a four count. Hold for a four. Out for a four. The whole yoga shit.”

“That’s it?” She asked as he walked her through a mental pattern, showing her what to envision to calm herself down into a meditative state.

“Honestly? Yeah. Calm. And then Till wants you to inspect your Block, I think,”

“Do I have to sit like a yogi?”

“God no. I tend to fall asleep so I lay on my back.” Vissa nodded as Ville let his gaze roll back to the ceiling, showing her slowly out of his mind.

Meditation seemed a little hokey to her but she let her body settle into a comfortable position, swaddled in the plush comforter, and began to breathe as Ville instructed. She didn’t find inner peace, but she did fall asleep - and truly, that might have been the same thing.