Cesare

Art by yaegakisawa:

“It is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both.” - Niccolo Machiavelli

I’m re-readng The Prince, although that’s not what inspired me to draw this…XD Actually I don’t even know how this picture came out to be like this, since my initial plan was totally different. This is what happens when you abuse the overlay option…

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The sight of Shaw’s helmet in Charles’s hands makes Erik feel nauseated. He can’t look at it without remembering the way it felt, heavy around his head, muffling the sound of Charles screaming No, no, Erik, don’t, no— the feel of Charles’s hands tearing at the cape, trying to shove the helmet off him in time.

It has to be this way, he told Charles. It’s the only way to keep you safe. Tell me you understand.

And Charles whispered, I understand. Sometimes Erik thinks that maybe Charles really loved him, until then.

Erik shakes himself and kneels, hoping the moment’s frozen shock won’t cost him. It’s probably too late, and Charles in the cape, holding the helmet, it can’t be good. Erik feels reckless enough to ask, “Why do you have that?”

Charles weighs the helmet in his hands, his expression unreadable. “Symbols are important,” he says, and puts it on.

The helmet always looked wrong on Shaw, the point resting just above the snub of his slightly upturned nose as if to highlight a flaw. It suited Erik better, he always thought. He wants it to look wrong on Charles; he wants it to look ridiculous, but it’s perfect. The point emphasizes the strength of his profile, frames his beautiful mouth in a way that makes it look hard and set.

“Frost…?” Erik asks.

“You think I need accessories to deal with her?” Charles asks. “No.” He lifts the helmet off and tilts it, showing the inside to Erik. The patterns are instantly familiar: it’s the amplifier Charles made one of his new children build for him, the machine that Charles used Erik’s own powers to finish. The connector is concealed inside at the back.

“Hank’s made it much more useful to me,” Charles says. “He’s been a wonderful help. So enthusiastic.” It makes Erik want to snarl, but Charles has him now, using his power to make Erik stand. “Unfortunately, he’s still designing a bit ahead of what conventional tools can accomplish.” Charles fishes the necklace from inside his shirt, slides the key at the end into the lock on the suppression collar, and presses his thumb to the print reader.

The collar clicks apart, and Erik can feel the helmet, the bedframe, the body-warm chain around Charles’s neck, the frame of his belt buckle, the butcher’s gloves in the drawer, oh, God, it’s all there, it’s all back.

Charles is brusque in his head, finding the incomplete microcircuitry in the helmet and using Erik’s power to finish it. Erik closes his eyes, savoring the tiny traces of copper and tungsten, the gold bond wires, the totality of Charles’s control.

«I’d do it willingly,» Erik thinks. «If you let me have my power back I’d never turn against you. You’ve been in every corner of my mind. You know it’s true.»

“I know,” Charles says, and locks the collar onto Erik’s neck again.

More of this verse today over at Helens78’s Tumblr, too.

(via ninemoons42)