#Oh and Anya's hair is red | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noirsdoll · 23 days ago

Text

-> pretty please? part one

all aboard! | the dinner party | room for three

pairing: curly x reader

words: 4.2k

tags: rape, drugging, implied/referenced abuse, mentions of baby trapping, mentions of jimmy being an asshole, reader is so much worse, no crash au, anya hate (im sorry), poor curly

notes: um… first post ever? so nervous but uhhh wanted to write a reader who is literally jimmy but hates everything jimmy is and wants to fuck curly. parallels!! i want curly so bad oh my godddd

writing style + some ideas inspired by @rimqueen !! go check out her stuff she is amazing!!

read it on ao3

Dumb, blond and pretty. Tears bead along his waterline, the prettiest sobs choking from his throat. Blond hair curls on his chest, frames that perfect cock. He looks like a picture, the type of fantasy you’d cook up with your hand between your legs.

Curly gazes up at you like he’s been stabbed, but he’s the one stabbing you. He stuffs you full of cock, it’s impossible not to prod at your cervix with the angle you’ve gotten him in, seated in his lap. He winces when he feels it. You moan.

The quiet hum of the Tulpar displaces your sound and that soft slide of skin on skin. Curly’s eyes are so far gone, so distant. The sharp points of your nails drag along the doughy parts of him. You salivate thinking about the muscle hidden underneath it all— muscle he could use to fight back, but he’s far too kind for that.

The perfect captain, reduced to a mess, reduced to nothing, reduced to fat tits and big hands and meaty thighs. You smile, thumbing his kiss-swollen lips. You go back in for seconds, he lets you because that’s his responsibility.

Delicate like tripwire, you’ve walked circles around him, poked and prodded at him. He keens like a dog when you scratch behind the ears. Poor thing, it’s not his fault. It’s you who kept thinking about it. Getting filled up by his fat cock till it bulges out of your belly, seeing his fingers wind in the sheets to stop himself from moving into you.

His pretty eyes are glazed over, you tap his cheek and he comes to. Curly looks at you, he’s really crying now, big globs cascading down his face. You wipe them away, shush him like a baby, stretched so impossibly on his dick that it’s hard to focus.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” you whisper, fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

He sniffles and says nothing, leaving you to stew in your guilt. You’re not guilty, you were just too eager. He’ll forgive you for this once you’re done.

Curly doesn’t meet your eyes at the morning meeting. He addresses everyone else with that worn smile of his. The one that had heat coiling in your stomach, the one you had to ruin. Split open on your fingers, the shine of spit on his pouty lips.

Swansea, Jimmy, Daisuke, that bitch Anya. She says something and he laughs, that perfect glimmer of pearly whites. Not that same pretty shade of white his cum is, you remember the way he went red as it dripped out of you. You hope it got you pregnant, then he’ll have no reason to talk to her.

You approach them both, unable to hide your grin when Curly locks up like a sore muscle. “Anya, good morning!”

She turns to look at you, a bashful smile on her face. “Oh, good morning!”

“I was doing inventory on our stock, there’s a bottle of sleeping pills missing. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Absolute bullshit on your part, you just need her gone.

To your surprise, Anya’s face drains in colour. Seems there was some truth to your words. “There is? I’ll go check on that right away.” She turns and leaves immediately.

You glance at Curly. “Looks like she’ll be missing the meeting. I don’t mind filling her in afterwards.”

He glares at you. It’s a new expression, but it gets you soaked all the same. “What are you doing?”

“Did you have fun last night?” You’re giddy just thinking about it, replaying every moment of it in a pornographic loop— you don’t know why Curly chose to be a captain when he’d fare much better in front of a camera.

He crosses his arms, looking away. “It’s not happening again.” Curly’s eyes are more sunken than normal.

“You didn’t like it? Not even a little?” Despite everything, your heart sinks a little. Not enough to discourage you, of course, but you like to think you’re fairly pretty. He must be a narcissist, one with a type for airheads like Anya.

“I have work to do. Go help Anya.” He leaves to pilot the ship.

Jimmy takes that as an invitation to sidle up next to you. “What’s up with him?”

You glance at him in disgust. There’s something leering about Jimmy’s gaze, the way he oversees the rest of the crew with an air of superiority. Not to mention how he looks at Anya like he’s mentally undressing her. You might hate her, but you hate Jimmy more.

“Sleeping pills, really?” Curly already told him off when Anya originally came forward about Jimmy— you’re surprised he didn’t do something rash like crash the ship. Seems like now he’s employing new techniques on her.

“Keep your voice down,” he hisses, glancing over at Swansea and Daisuke, who are clearly much more engrossed in bolts and nuts and whatever engineers talk about.

“I’m telling Curly.” To help him feel less alone.

Jimmy scoffs. “He already knows.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. He’s got the resilience of pillow fluff.” He shrugs, “so I’m using sleeping pills on her now, so what?”

“You’re a monster.” You grimace.

“I’m a man with needs. The Pony Express should give us fleshlights or something if they really cared.” Jimmy glances down at you. “Or dildos, I guess.”

What a prick. You’re surprised he hasn’t been put in a holding cell yet. You head down to the medbay to check on Anya. She’s sitting at the table, staring down at the inventory list.

You take the seat across from her. “Everything okay?”

She jumps at the sound. Anya quickly scrambles to put away the list. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

You’re unsure how to gently breach the subject, so you just flat out say it. “Jimmy told me.”

She stops what she’s doing, her eyes trembling as she looks at you. “Oh, he did?”

“That’s where the missing pills were from. Not sure how you want to record that on the log, but uh…,” you trail off. “Curly isn’t going to do anything about it, trust me.” You also just want her to back off from him.

Anya sinks back into her seat, forlorn. “I know… I just, I don’t know what else to do.”

“Hey, I’ll keep an eye out for you, yeah?” You say, softly. “It’s the two of us women on this ship. We should look out for each other.” You’re not sure where this is coming from. You think you’d rather foil whatever Jimmy plans to do to her than actually help her.

She nods, a hopeful smile on her face. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“No, really,” she insists. “You’re a good person.”

Your smile falls. “See you around, Anya.”

You slip the sleeping pills out from Jimmy’s pocket when he isn’t looking. You drop a couple in Curly’s evening coffee. He drinks one at the same time every night. You don’t know why he bothers– the beans are all stale and it tastes more like cardboard than anything. He’s a man of habit, you guess.

When he starts nodding off at dinner, it’s your cue to help him to his quarters. You make a few teasing remarks about your tired captain to displace any suspicion. Jimmy gives you a knowing look.

Curly’s big and heavy, just like his cock. Curse of the sleeping pills— it’s soft. You settle for dragging your slit down the length of it, coating it in slick. This isn’t as fun as seeing him cry or seeing any of his reactions, but you’re not one to complain. You grab at his tits, sucking a pretty bruise into his pale skin. It blooms like a flower underneath his collarbone.

His cock twitches as you finish the hickey, nudging your clit and pushing you over the edge. You finish yourself off, getting up and off of him and doing up his clothes as best as you can. You dip out of his room like nothing happened, a pleased grin on your face.

It’ll be up to him to notice what you did.

It’s the weekend. Daisuke’s brought out his gaming console— a retro one that probably costs a shit-ton of money. You envy his ability to not have to care about finances. This freighter is like a summer camp to him.

He’s beaten you a handful of times now, but you’ve made peace with the fact he’ll always be better than you at video games. Gotta let the guy have one thing going for him in his life.

You hear the sound of the automatic doors opening. It’s Swansea. “Alright, kid. Playtime’s over. I got a motherboard with your name on it.”

“What?” Daisuke whines. “But it’s literally the weekend!”

He stops by the back of the couch, hands on his hips. “Learning ain’t pause for nobody. Meet me in the Utility Room after you’re done with that round.”

“Ugh, fine.” He sighs, turning back to the screen with much less enthusiasm.

“It can’t be all that bad,” you say, eyes on the screen as you button-mash to no avail.

“Swansea’s super smart but like, it’s impossible to see what he’s doing ‘cause his hands are so big. Then he gets upset when I mess up.”

“Have you tried telling him that?”

He nods earnestly. “I have, I swear! Swansea just doesn’t care.

Daisuke looks like he wants to say more, but he’s stopped by something on your right. You turn away from the game, ignoring your character dying, to see Curly standing there. He looks livid.

“Meet me in the cockpit. Now.”

On your way there, Jimmy bumps shoulders with you, you feel him take the sleeping pills from your uniform pocket, lacking any sort of sleight of hand. Joke’s on him— you swapped them out for Tic-Tacs. Anya’s going to have minty fresh breath.

As you step into the cockpit, Curly starts to unbutton the collar of his uniform, swivelling in his chair to face you.

You pause in the doorway. “Woah, not even gonna say hello first?”

He huffs, exposing the bruise you left on his chest. “What is this?”

You plop down in Jimmy’s chair, propping your feet up on the dash. “I dunno, what is it, Captain?”

He leans back in his seat, running a hand down his face. “I said we had to stop, you didn’t listen—”

“You didn’t listen when Anya came forward about Jimmy.” You shrug.

Curly turns to look at you. “That’s what this is all about? Anya?” He asks warily.

“No,” you lean toward him, over the little partition separating both your chairs, “I think you’re cute.”

He grimaces, doing his uniform back up. “And I think you’re a pain in my side.”

“You don’t like me back, Curly?”

“Captain,” he corrects you.

“Captain,” you bat your eyelashes, “I told you I didn’t want to hurt you. I meant it.” You reach over and put a hand on his thigh. He freezes up. “I just want you to feel good. That’s it.”

He looks away toward the display. His eyes are watering. “You’re just like him.”

That makes you pause. “What?”

“Jimmy. You and him, you’re the same,” he repeats, turning to look at you, his jaw set.

You frown, he can’t be serious. “Him? I’m nothing like him, I would never.” Curly’s just trying to distract you.

You get on your knees in front of him. “Are you trying to tell me that you have a thing for your best friend?” Resting your cheek on his thigh, you run your fingers along his stomach. He’s so warm, he could be your own personal space heater if he let you close enough to snuggle in his lap.

“God,” he sighs, spreading his legs wider. “You don’t give up, do you?”

You shake your head, grinning. You knew he was gonna give in eventually. You’ve always been praised for your resilience, and it’s really paying off. Curly’s cock is heavy in your mouth, weighing down your tongue.

You play with your food, circling the fat head with your tongue before you take it all down your throat. Curly’s hips shift, he knocks the back of your throat and you gag.

Glancing up at Curly, he looks almost conflicted, lips pulled in a thin line as he looks on. You sink deeper down then, his passiveness splits into a moan. That pretty face of ecstasy.

You watch every minute shift in his expression, drooling slick into your panties. Fuck, he’s hot, in the way men shouldn’t be. The top button of his uniform strains against the size of his tits, they’re bigger than yours.

Trailing your mouth down, you run your tongue along the seam of his balls. Curly’s dick rests on your brow bone as you try to fit them in your mouth. Your lips split and your eyes roll back at the taste. He smells like musk and something so Curly that has your thighs rubbing together.

Eventually, you get to your feet, fumbling with the myriad of buttons on your uniform before you seat yourself in his lap. Your cunt’s leaving a wet spot on the fabric, you can’t help it.

Leaning closer, you kiss Curly soft, slow. He lets you do it more than he reciprocates, but every soft movement of his lips has your heart going in your chest.

You pull away, his forehead against yours, and if you close your eyes, you can pretend like this is some form of romantic, because it should be— that’s what you deserve for your hard work.

“Do you like me now, Curly?” You smile shakily, one hand on his shoulder and the other on the base of his cock.

He looks like he’s two seconds away from crying, but at this point he always does. You kiss away his brewing tears. You can be gentle, you could be so good for him. He just needs to see it.

You throw your arms around him and kiss him harder, trying to show your sincerity. Your pussy’s pressed right up against his cock, your heartbeats match.

If he doesn’t understand, you’ll make him.

It’s nighttime when you finally finish up with your work and you’re able to head back to your quarters. On your way you hear noises of a struggle. You stop and peer out from around the corner.

It’s Jimmy. He’s got his hand around Anya’s throat. She’s got two hands on his forearm, trying to pull him off. Then he shoves her back against the wall, her head meets the metal with an ugly clang. Anya goes limp in his grip, sobbing.

As the automatic doors close behind them, the sound abruptly cuts off. Are the quarters sound-proof? You leave with your newfound information.

Daisuke would’ve been so much better for you, you think as you watch him. He’s soldering something, you don’t know what. You’re sitting far enough away to not need goggles. Daisuke’s so simple. Nothing to worry about in his life, bouncing around from this internship to his video games and back again. If you came onto him, he wouldn’t complain.

Curly’s making himself choose between you and authority when he could have both. You’ve never made him choose either. He’s got no one else on this ship that would care for him the way you would, the way you’ve been trying to show him.

He doesn’t get it, you lament, that’s why he said you were like Jimmy. You’re not like him. You’re good. That’s what Anya said. Anya, who got her brain knocked around while you just watched.

It wasn’t any of your business. You did help her. You didn’t let Jimmy get the sleeping pills. Though that might be the reason she was walking funny. Whatever, she probably deserved it. At least she’s staying away from Curly now.

The buzz of the soldering iron stops and Daisuke slides up his protective mask. “Wanna see what I’m working on?”

You nod and get up to look. It’s a tiny metal Polle. The shaping is a little crude, but it’s very impressive.

“How long did that take you?”

He shrugs. “I dunno, like, a couple hours? I make stuff like this when Swansea gives me free time.”

“Maybe you’re better suited for this than engineering.”

Daisuke looks at you. “You think so? My mom wants me to be an engineer.”

“Who cares what she says? Do what you want.”

He blinks for a moment before he nods, resolute. “Okay.”

Heading out of the Utility Room, you see Curly and Anya in the hallway. Curly’s got a hand on either side of her, the illusion of a comforting embrace.

“I’ll fix this, don’t worry.” He whispers, but you hear it all the same.

“Are you cheating on me?!” You exclaim, rushing towards them. You shove Curly away from her and get in between them, he staggers back in confusion.

“I’m not— We’re not—,”

You glance at Anya, pleading your case. “He made me do things. Things I didn’t want to do.” You glare at Curly. “And now what, you’re gonna try it with every girl on the Tulpar?”

“What are you talking about?” Curly asks.

“Don’t play dumb, Captain. Anya, I told you I’d look out for you. I told you that you should’ve stayed away from him, he’s a jerk, he’s—“

“I’m pregnant.” She says, eyes downcast.

You fall silent, blinking at her. “What?” You turn to Curly. “How could you—?”

“It’s Jimmy’s.” He says. “I’m going to talk to him. Again.” Curly leaves, glaring at you over his shoulder.

Something shatters inside you, and you don’t know why. You ignore it, because all you can see is Anya. Anya with a little rape baby growing inside her, Anya with a court case and Anya with money and all you can think about is how goddamn lucky she is.

She sniffles, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Her makeup never runs, despite everything, but her eyes are bloodshot. Tentatively, she hugs you. Your heart stops, confusion and what your body mistakes as guilt running through you.

Anya wraps her arms around herself, staring down at the rusted floors. “We’ve got each other’s backs, right?”

You nod, fighting everything in you that makes your face want to wrinkle with disgust. “Yeah.”

“I have… enough painkillers to…,” she winces, burying her face in her hands. “Please. I want you to tell me not to do it.”

You stare at her for a moment, so long that she meets your eyes again. “What else would I say?”

“I don’t know… you and I, we’re the same, aren’t we?” Anya smiles shakily. “You’ve got Curly and I’ve got Jimmy. You’re okay, right?”

You’re lying to her. You keep lying to her. She’s too airheaded to know the truth. You nod. “Yeah, it really shook me up though.”

“I’ll look out for you too.”

“Thank you.” But inside, you want to laugh. She can’t even protect herself and she wants to help you?

“After what you told me about Curly, it seems like you’re the only person I can trust,” she admits quietly. “I’m grateful you’re here, y’know.”

Your words are lodged in your throat. You can’t say it back.

You’re not sure what exactly to do now. You’ve been informally declared the midwife of Anya’s moneybag, and Curly’s doing everything in his power to put space between you and him. Like he can try. There’s no restraining orders in space.

And there’s no locks on the sleeping quarters.

You dip into his room, the automatic doors opening at your whim. You expect him to be sleeping at this hour, but he’s sitting at his tiny desk, the warm light of the incandescent lamp on his golden features. Curly’s pretty like a sculpture, he barely offers you the generosity of a glance as you walk in.

You sit on his bed, his back to you. “What do you want?” He says, scribbling something in his captain’s log.

You rest your hands on your lap. You’re wearing nothing but a sheer nightdress, no point in underwear when you’re gonna take it off anyways. “I just wanted to talk.”

“You never just want to talk.” It’s an accomplishment, really, that you’ve pushed the kind-hearted captain to this level of bitterness. You’ve been breaking him down—persuading him to see your side of things, and it seems to be working.

He turns to look at you now, and that ever-present filter of exhaustion looks so good on him. “They think I assaulted you.” Curly can’t say rape, it’s kinda cute.

“A girl can dream,” you sigh. “Jimmy’s the real rapist.”

“You don’t think I know that? I’m trying to hold this ship together and you and him just keep fucking things up.” He looks exasperated.

You scowl. You and him, it’s always you and him. “Don’t drag me into this. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

He shakes his head. “You and I, we…,” he cuts himself off, running a frustrated hand through his hair. Curly can’t say it.

Nodding, you say, “we did. I remember you dragging me down to the cockpit and telling me to ‘get on my knees if I want to keep my job.’ That’s not very workplace appropriate, is it, Curly?”

His face pales. “You wouldn’t. That would ruin my life.”

“Anya’s life is ruined now,” you shrug.

“You don’t give a shit about Anya.”

“I don’t.” You get up, walking over to him. Running your fingers through his hair, you cup his cheek. “She’s got a suicide plan ready to go. How about I tell her to go through with it? Put the blame on both your poor leadership and Jimmy’s wandering dick, would you prefer that?”

“What the fuck are you trying to do?” Curly looks up at you, bewildered.

“You. That’s all I want, Curly. You make it so difficult.”

—

You are the hurricane that has blazed through his life. You are what brings out the worst parts in him, what makes him sink into himself and hide. Not Jimmy, not Anya, not Pony Express’s termination. You. It all comes back to you.

Curly thought you were just another Jimmy, he attracts them like a magnet. That’s what he told you, hoping to spark an ounce of self-realization. But you’re something much worse. You don’t hide, you don’t need to. Every fault will end with the blame on his shoulders.

You have made him so many things he never imagined himself being. A rapist? He’s not– he would never hurt someone, especially not a woman. But here he is, his hands balling into fists, rage blurring his thoughts as much as his vision.

Curly gets up out of his chair, he towers over you because he is a man and you are nothing. He is the captain and you are a subordinate who gets off on biting the hand that feeds you. He hates punishment in every form, he much prefers talking, but words don’t work around you.

And this is the thing that finally scares you. Because he knows that you know that no one can hear you in these sound-proof quarters.

Curly tosses you onto his mattress, you yelp and your eyes go wide, you push at his chest but he is more muscle than he isn’t. Under your dress is your leaking chasm of a pussy. Of course, you’re turned on even now, because every wire in your brain is so dutifully crossed.

A hand around your throat is sufficient work for holding you down, your blunt nails drag along the corded muscle of his forearms. You look so small, so negligible.

Maybe Curly understands Jimmy just a little, just enough to not actually be like him. Fortunately for you, the look of fear in your eyes is enough to satiate him. He lets go of you, sitting back on his heels and staring at the mess between your legs. No blood, he wouldn’t do that to you. Jimmy would, and he is so far from Jimmy.

It’s sobering, this feeling, much better than any attempt at therapy. He feels sane, like he’s been given something tangible to latch onto and it’s you, what he can inflict on you.

You’re not crying, but you’re visibly shaken. You drag your knees up to your chest, crowded against the headboard in a sorry attempt to put distance between you and him. You swallow, your eyes never leaving him, as you come to the realization that he could be so much more than you give him credit for.

“Hey, come here.” He pulls you closer because that is the easiest thing to do. It’s Curly who apologizes, Curly who strokes your hair and makes love to you the way you have been begging him to.

Because that is his responsibility.

#🕸️—writing #curly mouthwashing #captain curly #curly x reader #mouthwashing #mouthwashing fanfic #grant curly #curly x you #curly smut #curly x reader smut #mouthwashing fandom

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emmmaa4 · 2 months ago

Note

I don’t know if you do male reader! But if you can please do make it that and if not do gender neutral.

Buttttt I would love a fic where Male reader just puts Jimmy (mouthwashing) in his place, just fucks the shit out of him really, give him a taste of his own medicine kind of thing, just rough sex.

I’ve love your work, and your writing is so amazing!! Take your time please if you do my ask 😭🙏

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for this proposal and for your words. I hope you and others like this fic. 💙

Male!Reader x Jimmy (mouthwashing)

⚠️ TW: NSFW, abuse, degradation..

"A taste of your own medicine"

I had entered into this 'great adventure' to feel better and to be a little more useful. I don't think I'm a bad guy, I just have a very strong sense of justice when it comes to the bad things that happen to me or, rather, to the people I like.

When one time, Anya, the Tulpar nurse had taken me alone to the infirmary, only to break down crying in front of me, almost screaming about how Jimmy had abused her, used her, as if she were just another piece of meat; something in me broke at that moment, I was furious. Even though I only tried to hug Anya and comfort her

"Please don't tell him anything! He'll kill me, I swear, he will..."

"Don't worry, I won't tell him anything, I promise Anya."

Of course that was a complete lie but honestly, I didn't want her to worry anymore. Curly was a corpse that could barely breathe, Swansea and Daisuke were just trying to do what they could to keep going; and on top of that, this idiot, in the end, ends up getting away with it like a slippery worm in the mud.

So, I just didn't think about it, I didn't want to think about it. Do I really have to think about it at this point when we're all about to die?! I don't think so. I looked for Jimmy, and I found him, he was almost hiding (so to speak), he was in the console room, this room was full of that white foam shit, Jimmy looked upset; I went in, closed the door behind me, the room was red because of the lights.

"You?! Get out of here, I'm making a plan because of your fault, because of Curl-"

He spat out his filthy words, thank god I'm a bit taller than him and fast too, I quickly punched him in the face, sending him crashing to the ground, the metal making a giant clatter. Jimmy gasped, his face scrunching up in anger, already getting up as he staggered to punch me. I grabbed him by his overalls, "Oh, don't you think you can, you little shit" - I quickly tackled him back onto the metal floor, chest face down, being crushed by my weight.

"You think you're a genius, without feeling guilty about all the things you've done?! Huh?!"

I grabbed him by his hair, lifting his head forcefully to whisper: "I'll make you taste a little of your own medicine.."

He gasped in shock, I used my hand to slam his head back into the cold ground, him gasping at the pain it caused him. I quickly tore with what I had of my strength, of my fury, his pants and pulled them down, I heard him scream beneath me but I quickly spanked him even though he had boxers on, he screamed loudly at this.

"Shhh... You like doing this to innocent people but you don't like it when it's done to you? Crying bitch..."

I started to hit his ass more, his body responded with small spasms, he also let out small gasps at my spankings. I got closer to his face, my mouth on his ear to whisper: "If you try to escape, I'll kill you."

I let go of Jimmy's hair, for a second I thought I saw tears in his psycho eyes as I got a little closer, I could only smile at the thought. I positioned myself behind him to tear the fabric of his boxers, his ass was already red; I couldn't help but bite my lower lip furiously, seeing so much pain from someone who had caused that same pain.

I started to hit him more, his ass turning a painful red, I heard Jimmy let out a scream out of nowhere causing me to quickly squeeze his ass with my big hands: "Shut up, you didn't let her scream, why I would let you then? Get your ass up."

Jimmy's hips shook but he still tried to lift them as best he could, I saw him turn his head slightly to the right to see me behind him, I saw a small dry tear come out of his eye. I would lower the zipper of my jumpsuit to take it off below my hips and take out my cock, resting it between Jimmy's two red and sore buttocks, he would jump when he felt it: "Oh, is the abuser sensitive?" I said with pure sarcasm, he dedicated himself to sticking his face to the floor. My cock began to harden, leaving pre-cum at the entrance of his ass, I would rest the tip of my member at the entrance, I decided to take just a few seconds to tell him with a furious voice: "I hope this hurts" - I slammed my penis inside his ass completely, without gentleness, without love, only fury and revenge.

Jimmy's little screams would sound all over the room, with the red consoles and that foam around. I would hear him gasp, I don't know if it was from pain or pleasure, I didn't care; I would pull out and bury my cock against his ass while I grabbed his red buttocks to hold him even if it hurt, I would hit him from time to time, just to take out the anger I have of him ON HIM.

"Stop! Stop please!"

"Oh no... we're going to be like this until you can't move anymore."

I grabbed his hair back so I could ram him deeper, my hair disheveled from moving so much, in a harsh way I grabbed his hips and rammed one last time, my balls would pucker as I would cum inside him, even being inside, still grabbing his hair I would guide his head so he would turn to look at me, he had saliva coming out of his mouth, along with dry and new tears coming out of his tear ducts; I got closer to his ear and whispered:

"Take responsibility Jimmy."

I threw his head against the ground, leaving him lying there, as I stood up to put on my overalls without a care in the world, I walked to the metal door, before leaving I gave him one last look; lying there, panting, having small spasms, and the worst? He had cum, his semen shot in his abdomen.

#anya mouthwashing #captain curly #curly mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #jimmy x reader #mouthwashing game #smut #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x you

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traveler-at-heart · 1 year ago

Text

The Tooth Fairy

Summary: Your daughter gets a generous visit.

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Sorry for the weird format, I’m on my phone. Also, fun game, drink everytime you find the word fairy in this fic 🧚

“Mom!”

Your daughhter’s scream puts you immediately on edge.

Her voice is quivering, as if she’s not sure she should be crying over what’s happening.

“What is it, sweetie?” you kneel next to her on the playground, mentally counting all her fingers and checking for injuries. You have to stay calm for her sake.

“My tooth fell off” Anya says, showing it to you. “Does this mean that I can’t eat chocolate anymore?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s fine” you pick her up and carry her to the park bench. “These are called baby teeth. They’ll fall off and then you’ll get your new ones. And those are for good.”

“Promise?”

“Well, yes. Unless you eat too much chocolate. Then you’ll get cavities”

Anya keeps looking at the tooth in her hand and then offers it to you. Closing one eye, you examine it as if it were a diamond.

“The tooth fairy is gonna be real happy with this one”

“There’s a fairy?” Anya perks up and you smile.

“Oh, yes. You have to leave it under your pillow with a small note and then they’ll pick it up. Leave you a dollar or two if they think it’s a good tooth”

“I wanna write the note, can we go home now?”

“Yes, sweetie” you carry her, relieved now that Anya seems happier.

—-

It’s not an easy task, but you persuade Anya to wait for her other mom to write the note. You’re sure Natasha wouldn’t wanna miss it.

After all, this is the same woman that almost cried when she was away on a mission and your daughter sneezed for the first time.

“I’m home” you hear the door open and close. Anya smiles, eager to tell her mom about the highlight of the day.

“Mama” she jumps to her arms, wavy red hair flying as Natasha catches her.

“Someone is very happy to see me”

“I’m happy to see you too” you say, leaning forward and giving her a quick kiss.

“Then why aren’t you jumping into my arms?”

“Mama, I’m going to meet the tooth fairy!” Anya interrupts you, pulling her tooth from the pocket of her pants.

“Your first tooth? And I missed it?”

Damn it, she’s gonna cry again. You can’t have that.

“Baby, you didn’t miss it. Anya still has to write a letter. She’s been waiting for you”

“Yeah, come on” Anya bounces on her arms, encouraging Natasha to go to the living room.

“I’ll work on dinner while you two do that, ok?” you kiss Natasha’s cheek and let her enjoy the time with Anya.

From your spot on the kitchen, you can hear Anya asking all sorts of questions about the fairy lore.

She’s a smart kid, so all Natasha does is hand her the crayons she requests. Anya falls silent, and then begins to write the letter.

“All done?” your wife says and Anya covers the sheet of paper with her tiny hands.

“This is a secret letter”

Natasha looks at you, both struggling to hold your smiles.

“Dinner’s ready” you announce, serving pasta.

Anya giggles when the spaguetti goes through the whole her tooth left.

“Baby, don’t play with your food like that” you scold. Then you turn to Natasha for support, only to find her creating a spaguetti mustache that leaves her face full of sauce. “Honestly, Natalia”

“Mama is in trouble” Anya laughs.

“She’s doing the dishes, that’s for sure” you agree.

After dinner, Natasha prepares a bath for Anya while you clean the kitchen. You both know you’re too obsessive to leave the cleaning to anyone else.

You go to the study to write a small thank you note for Anya from the tooth fairy. You even add some glitter for extra flare.

Tucking it in the back of your pocket, you walk into your daughter’s room to wish her goodnight.

“Is it under your pillow?” you check and she nods, yawning.

“I wanna wait for them”

“Oh, the fairy only shows up when you’re asleep, darling. Like Santa”

“Are they friends?” Anya says, quickly falling asleep.

“Yeah, you could say they’re practically the same person” Natasha whispers and you nudge her with your elbow. Anya is already asleep, so it doesn’t really matter if she heard that last part.

Quietly, you take the letter from under her bed and place yours instead.

“Why are your hands all shiny?” Natasha asks as you’re getting ready for bed.

“Welll, I am a fairy, baby. Haven’t you heard?” you tap the tip of her nose, leaving some glitter on it.

“I’m happy I was here for this” Natasha says against your shoulder as you cuddle.

“Me too” you say, your eyelids heavy. “Oh, crap. I forgot to leave the money under Anya’s pillow”

“That’s ok, I’ll do it”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. You’re the stealthy spy here” you smile when Natasha kisses your neck and leaves the bed. You’re so tired you fall asleep before she comes back.

—

The smell of coffee wakes you up.

Coffee and pancakes. Stretching, you get out of bed, feeling relaxed and happy.

“Hey, baby” you greet your wife, admiring her toned arm muscles accentuated by the white tank top.

“Morning, detka” she smiles, adding more pancakes to the plate next to the stove. “Breakfast is ready”

“I’m hungry for other things” you lift the edge of her tank top, scratching Natasha’s abs with your nails. She follows your lead, tilting her head and parting her lips to let your tongue explore her mouth.

“Mom, mama!” Anya says, running out of her room. You sigh against Natasha’s lips and step away. “They were here! I woke up and there was a letter with some glitter”

“That’s awesome, sweetie” you smile, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You turn to your daughter as you take a sip.

“And look! She left me this!”

Anya waves a hundred dollar bill in front of you, making you choke on your coffee.

“Wow, that fairy won the lottery since the last time I saw her” you catch your breath.

“Is this enough to buy a pony?”

“No, darling. Go set the table, I’ll bring you some juice and pancakes, ok?”

“Can I watch tv while having breakfast?”

“Fine” Natasha answers and you wait for your daughter to be out of earshot to talk to her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, baby, did you leave all that money for Anya?”

“Yes, I didn’t know how much to put and you were asleep”

“Ok, for future reference, five bucks is more than fine” you smile, placing your hands on her shoulders.

“I’m sorry” she looks defeated and you try to cheer her up.

“Don’t be, it’s fine. We’ll use the savings we have for the rest of the teeh and then send her to community college”

“Stop!” Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Come on, it’s ok” you kiss her softly. “We’ll tell her that the fairy had to pay her mortgage and is broke. I’ll even add less glitter on the next letter”

“You’re taking this glitter thing too seriously”

“Well, we have to rely on Alexei to play Santa. At least I get to have some fun with this”

—

Later that day, as your friends get together for a barbecue, Anya shows everyone the place where her tooth once was; luckily, she left the money at home.

That doesn’t stop Billy and Tommy from finding out. Pretty soon, they’re asking their mom about the tooth fairy and if there’s a special deal for twins.

“They left 100 dollars for Anya” Billy shouts and everyone falls silent.

“Oh, wow. Maybe the fairy can visit me as well” Sam smiles. You kick him under the table.

Unfortunately for Natasha, you have to explain everything when Wanda convinces the twins to go back to play.

“Don’t sweat it, Red. Everything’s so expensive nowadays, it’s only fair Anya starts saving now”

“Oh, you’re one to talk” Pepper points at Tony. “He left a blank check under Morgan’s pillow the first time she lost a tooth”

Everyone laughs at that, Tony adjusting in his seat.

“Would you like to adopt me?” Sam asks after a minute.

—

“I got the door” you whisper. Natasha is carrying Anya to her room. It was a fun afternoon of playing with friends and then doing the math on how many plushies she could get with all that money.

She’s fast asleep, and you wait by the door as Natasha tucks her in.

“You ok?” you want to double check, knowing she can be insecure about motherhood.

“I just wish I knew everything”

“Well, so do I. I wish I knew how to stay calm. Remember last week when she hurt her hand with the stove? I thought I was going to throw up and you handled it while I panicked”

“It’s nothing”

“It’s a lot, Tasha. We love you. And we need you” you kiss her softly and she smiles against your lips.

“Wanna read the letter?” you offer once you’re settled in bed. Your wife nods and you take it out of your nighstand. “Dear Miss Fairy - very formal. This is my tooth, it felll off while I was playing. Mom told me you take them and leave some money. My Mama helped me draw this. I love my moms and I want to buy them ice cream and chocolate with the money you give me. Hugs, Anya Romanoff”

“She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You both are” Natasha says as you cuddle, kissing her neck.

“We love you”

“So, what do we do next time?”

“We tell her the fairy is getting heer a car at 16 and hopefully she’ll forget about it by then” you smile, confident.

Of course, she doesn’t.

#natasha romanoflf x you #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x reader

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c0zyrainfall · 11 months ago

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Becky: I'm gonna call you strawberry jelly from now on

Damian: What

Becky; Because your face is red as a strawberry and you're the most jelly boy my own two eyes have ever seen

Damian: I am not!

Damian: Hey triangle man get away from my girl

Becky: Damian, don't throw things.

Arnold: This is your girl?

Damian: Uh… no

Arnold: Then why are you mad?

Damian: Idk. Cuz you have triangle hair I guess

Loid: I guess Anya can dance with Triangle Man if she wants. It's not like the Desmonds would ever consider a relationship with a girl who plays with her own snot anyways.

Anya: You overestimate their taste. The Desmonds love me.

Anya: Sorry boys, but I can't dance with you because none of you are plot relevant. Catch ya in another chapter though

Damian: I'm going to very unsubtly stare at her and hope she catches the drift that I want to dance with her even though I don't even know that I want to dance with her.

Ewen and Emile: Time for the Bachelor Junior

Damian: Absolutely not, I hate reality TV

Anya: Oh I am so getting the preference rose

Loid: Forget about all that other stuff I just said. Anya is so getting the preference rose

#poorly summarized chapter 95 #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers #damianya #spy x family #spy family #anya forger #spy x family anya #spy x family spoilers #spy x family manga #damian desmond #becky blackbell #loid forger #sxf loid

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sissylittlefeather · 1 year ago

Text

In honor of Halloween...

"Devil in Disguise"

I wrote a vampire fic but PLOT TWIST Elvis isn't the vampire.

YOU ARE!

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI!!!! Kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), a little girl on girl action, threesome (MFF), p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also vampire bites and blood drinking

A/N: this was a fun stretch for me. Please let me know what you think!

You've honestly forgotten how many years you've been a vampire. You know you were turned at the end of the American Civil War as a means of survival for your children, who are all dead now anyway. After your youngest passed, you moved to France. You followed the American soldiers here in 1944, since they had literally been your bread and butter since you were turned. Now, the war was over, but your job as a dancer at the Moulin Rouge was too good to leave and there was still a steady stream of young men, and even soldiers at times, to keep you well-fed and young(ish)-looking. You had been 33 when you were turned, so that was your permanent age, but when you were well-fed the men assumed you were younger and never bothered to ask if you weren't.

None of the other dancers knew what you were except for Anya, who was also like you and had been a refugee after the Russian revolution. While she was younger, she had become your closest friend in the years since you'd come to Paris.

She was the one who alerted you to the presence of one Elvis Presley in the spring of 1959. You'd seen him on television and knew he was in Germany with the Army, but you hadn't expected him to show up here.

"He's on furlough. The girls are fighting over who will get to be with him first." Anya whispers to you as you get dressed. Luckily you've learned to understand her thick accent. She knew you were always looking for a new challenge and she preferred rich, older gentlemen, so she wasn't interested in this boy, as she thought of him.

"Oh, Anya, I don't know. I'm exhausted and he's sure to be surrounded by photographers and fans. It'll be hard to get him alone."

"You're tired because..." she leans in and speaks softly, "you need to feed. And how fun would he be?"

"Maybe. I don't want to compel him, though. That's too easy."

"Then don't. Go out there and show these little girls how a woman works." She slaps your ass and gives you a wink before walking to line up for the opening dance.

******

After your dances are finished, you're sent to mingle with the men in the club and see if you can't score a few extra tips. You see the throng of people and assume that must be where he is. Swinging your hips as you walk, you move to a spot in his eye line, but far enough away to not draw the attention of the crowd. He's got dancers all around him and he must've kissed a half dozen of them already, but you recognize the look in his eye. It's the same look you have on most nights. He's hungry for a challenge, something new and exciting and not the same girls falling at his feet.

That's when his eyes meet yours. They lock for a good thirty second before his gaze moves down your body. He takes in your black and red bodice and fishnet hose, all the way down to the black heels on your feet and back up again to the feathers stuck in your hair. But you know what he wants, so you pull your eyes away from his magnetic stare and start to walk away, a look of disinterest on your face.

You move slowly across the room, talking and flirting with patrons as you do. Still, you can feel his eyes on you, tracking you like a predator with prey. Little does he know, he's the prey in this scenario and he's falling perfectly into your snare.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him dismissing the girls around him and trying to shake the crowd that follows him, assuring them he'll be right back. But you know better. Once he's yours, he'll be yours for the night.

You keep making your way around the room until you feel a soft hand on your shoulder and a voice in your ear.

"You runnin' away from me, mama?" You turn to face him with a bored smile.

"Should I be?" The hunger in his eyes intensifies with your apathy towards him.

"I'm told I'm a pretty good time. You might not want to run away just yet." He's laying it on thick for you, smiling devilishly, with his lip curled just so. You have to admit, he is very good looking, and you smile in spite of yourself. He leans his head back a little, confident he's got you now.

"Come on, mama. Let's go somewhere we can talk."

That didn't take long. He's less of a challenge than you thought he'd be. Turns out his hunger is your best weapon.

"Follow me." You smile up at him through your lashes and make your way to the door that leads backstage. Once you're back there with a little privacy, you push him up against the wall and kiss him deeply, running your hands down his front to the top of his pants and then back up. At first, he's caught off guard, but it doesn't take him long to wrap his arms around you and pull your body in close to his. He has some skill with his tongue and you realize that you're hungrier than you thought you were. You feel your fangs start to extend, so you pull away quickly and grab his hand, practically dragging him to one of the rooms you use for this sort of thing. He doesn't complain about your speed, though.

When you get inside, you turn and lock the door behind you.

"Damn, baby. Somebody knows what she wants."

"You have no idea." You round on him, trying to keep your fangs hidden until the right moment. You don't want to scare him away too quickly. It takes everything inside you not to just pounce on him, but you take a deep breath and feel your fangs retract.

You push him backwards to the edge of the couch.

"Sit down."

"Yes ma'am." His eyes sparkle with the excitement of being told what to do. You can tell he's used to being in charge, but he's not opposed to letting you take control. You walk over to the record player and put on something jazzy and sensual. The more aroused he is, the more vitality you can derive from his blood. When you get back in front of him he reaches out and puts both hands on your hips.

"Nuh uh." You move his hands back to his lap. "Just look. Don't touch."

"Mmm." He grunts and bites his bottom lip as you begin to move in front of him. You sway your hips seductively and touch your body as you dance. Slowly, you reach behind you and unzip your bodice, letting it fall to the floor. The only thing you have on underneath is your fishnet hose and his mouth drops at the sight in front of him. He adjusts his pants and you know he's well on his way to where you need him. You slide the hose down and kick off your shoes until you're standing in front of him completely naked. He still hasn't closed his mouth or been able to make a sound. You straddle him on the couch and reach for his tie. His hands go to your breasts and again you stop him.

"Did I say you could touch?" He whimpers.

"Honey, please..."

"I will tell you when you can touch me." He whines and flexes his hands before he puts them back at his sides. You begin to undress him slowly, first his tie, then his jacket, and finally his shirt, running your fingers across his chest lightly. He barely even has hair there.

"I need to touch you. Please." He looks at you with puppy dog eyes and bucks his hips up into you. You feel his hardness pushing against his pants. Then, you stand up again and he moans.

"No, honey, I'm sorry..."

"Take off your pants." He does as he's told and frantically removes his pants and shoes and then sits back down on the couch. His cock bounces in his lap and you can't help but be a little impressed by the size of it.

"You want to touch me?"

"Yes, please, mama." He looks at you with his eyes wide, dick twitching. You walk toward him and he reaches out, first cautiously and then hungrily, his hands exploring your body feverishly. He pulls you down into his lap and kisses you passionately. He lays you on your back on the couch and kisses down your neck. You put your hand on the top of his head and gently push him down toward your center.

He smiles. He can do this part well and he knows it. When his mouth makes contact with your clit, you yelp a little because it feels so good. He really is talented with his tongue and it's obvious as he licks and laps at you. Then, he slides two of his long fingers inside you and starts to move them in and out. The sensation is almost overwhelming and you feel your orgasm building deep in your core. He knows he's almost got you there too, so he picks up the pace of his hand and tightens his tongue to a point as he licks over and around your clit. Finally, the waves crash over you, sending heat and electricity to your fingertips and back again. You shudder and pulse around his hand and he does that boyish grin again.

"How badly do you want to fuck me?" You ask as he makes his way back up your body.

"Honey, I don't think I've ever wanted anything more in my life." You push him up into a sitting position and straddle him again, slowly sinking onto his cock until you're stuffed to the hilt with him. He groans and leans his head back on the couch. You feel your fangs extend again with the pleasure and do your best to keep your mouth closed, but his neck is exposed and you're so hungry...

"Honey? You okay?" You realize that you've stopped moving and snap back to reality.

"Mhmm!" You go back to grinding on his lap, pushing him deeper and deeper. That was too close. You have to keep yourself under control better until he's lost in a post-sex drunken haze. Why is he getting to you like this? You need to not let yourself get this hungry.

"Fuck, mama. This feels so good. I'm getting close." You stop and stand up off of him. "What? Why?"

"Not yet." He breathes deeply and leans his head back on the couch again. You grab a robe off the back of the door.

"I'll be right back."

You step out into the hallway and almost run smack into Anya.

"Oh thank God. I need your help. I'm having a hard time controlling myself. Help me finish him off." Anya looks at you concerned.

"Okay. I will help you." This isn't the first time this has happened. You've helped her and she's helped you before. Balancing the desires and hunger as a vampire is a delicate business. Sometimes it takes two of you to keep each other in line.

You open the door again and step in with Anya. He sits up and attempts to cover himself with his hand.

You unzip Anya's bodice and let it fall to the floor, pulling her into a deep kiss, your breasts pressed up against each other. Elvis sits on the couch with his mouth open again, unsure of what to do next. When you both turn to him, he sits up straight and swallows hard. His cock bounces in his hand as he looks at you both there naked in front of him. You sit on either side of him on the couch. Anya's hand goes to his dick and you pull him into a kiss. You add your hand to hers and he groans, watching you both work with his eyes wide.

"Holy fuck." He whispers as you lean in and kiss each other again over him as you touch him. Together, you lay him down on the couch. Anya climbs onto his face and he goes to work. But when you slide his cock into you, you hear him moan audibly. You begin to bounce up and down on him quickly and he grabs your hips. He has a hard time deciding what to do with his hands as Anya sits on his face and you sit on his dick. He gets her to an orgasm pretty quickly, being as skilled as he is and she stands up off of him. He's surprised when you lean in and kiss him, even with Anya's desire on his lips. He thrusts into you from underneath and you feel another orgasm forming, your fangs starting to descend. She can tell you're struggling, so Anya leans in and kisses you hard.

"I think he's almost ready." She whispers with her thick accent. She grabs his hands and holds them above his head while you fuck him.

"'M gonna come, mama." He groans. You don't stop. Instead, you move faster, your own orgasm just a couple of thrusts away. You slam into each other faster and faster, harder and harder, all while Anya holds his hands. Finally, you scream and he cusses loudly.

"Yes, fuck, oh my god!" He pumps into you weakly as he shudders and fills you with warmth. You come too, hard, and your fangs come out one last time. You can no longer hide them and you lean forward to the soft supple skin of his neck.

"What?!" He begs, but doesn't fight back. You gently pierce him with your teeth and suck as the blood comes quickly. It's sweetened with the energy of his desire and his release and it fills you in a way you didn't think was possible.

As you finish, Anya releases his arms and you lick the tiny marks on his neck, knowing your saliva will heal it quickly.

"Did you just bite me?" He asks drunkenly.

"I did."

"I liked it."

"Most of you do, you just don't know it until it happens."

Anya kisses your forehead and grabs her things, wrapping the robe around herself and disappearing through the door.

He sits up and wraps his arms around you.

"Did you get younger?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"Make me like you."

"Oh, no, honey, I would never."

"Why not? Please?" He looks at you with his round blue eyes and you see the pain there. You kiss his hair and hold him close to your chest.

"You don't really want this. I promise."

"What if I really do?"

"I'm not turning Elvis Presley into a vampire."

"Then I'll find someone who will." You look deeply into his sex-drunk eyes.

"We'll talk about this in the morning." You curl up next to him on the couch as sleep approaches both of you.

"I'm not changing my mind."

You drift off in his arms, thinking about what it would mean to release him into the world as a new vampire. Is that a responsibility you're willing to accept? Is it really what he wants? Can you be the vampire that makes the most famous man on the planet immortal?

You don't know. But tonight, you were the vampire that fucked and drank Elvis Presley. And who else can say that?

******

Hope that was a fun treat!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @ashtag6887 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows

Sorry if you didn't want a tag in this one! Either way, I hope some of you enjoy this little Halloween treat!

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x y/n #elvis fic #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x you #elvis presley fanfic #elvis x y/n #elvis x you #halloween #halloween smut

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mouthwashingconfessions · 1 month ago

Note

Hey, I recently saw the Twitter post where the Devs for Mouthwashing gave an interview about the game. The number of people just going in and saying, "Oh see! She said Curly would cover for Jimmy! HE'S JUST AS BAD!" made me want to rip my hair out. Did they even play the same game? These fuckers act as if Curly was some damn fratboy patting Jimmy on the back for "getting some." or that Curly should've pulled a Superman while still in the middle of a space delivery. Pony Express makes it impossible to report abuse. The ship NEEDS a co-pilot. If the cryo pod gets used, I'm confident it will be docked from everyone's pay... and Curly knows Anya has no savings. He's literally trying to fix this mess within all the red tape around him, and the tragedy is that even his friendship with Jimmy didn't matter to the asshole. Context is dead yall, and I've said my peace.

#mouthwashing game #mouthwashing confessions #mouthwashing #mouthwashing curly #mouthwashing anya #mouthwashing jimmy

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void-ink-studios · 2 months ago

Text

Rinse and Spit [Part 5] - A Mouthwashing AU

This chapter did NOT want to be written, but here it is, finally. A break in the tension, but it is not a resolution. There's still a long way to go before peace can be found.

Read on AO3 here!

Content Warning:

Major Character Death

Graphic and deadly injuries

Depictions of choking

Word Count: 2,100

The air was still for a moment. Silent. Painfully so. Curly stared up at Jimmy, who’s eyes had gone wide. The captain couldn’t even turn his head to see who fired with the pilot’s weight still pressing on him.

The gunshot still hung in his one good ear, the sound ringing in a high pitched whine. He couldn’t even hear his own breathing anymore.

Jimmy and Curly stared at each other, the pilot’s hands still grasped around the captain’s face.

And then the blood started to fall.

Jimmy made some kind of gurgling sound as blood dripped from his mouth. And the hole in his neck. Red blossomed onto the grimey, dark blue jumpsuit uniform. It dripped onto Curly’s face, like the beginning of a storm.

Then he started falling.

Jimmy continued to gurgle as he fell forward then off of Curly’s body, the grip finally releasing from his mouth and haw. Curly didn’t even watch where Jimmy landed, instead just immediately trying to vomit the meat back up. He wanted it out, he wanted it out of his body. But he couldn’t, he couldn’t make himself wretch. It was down his throat, it was in his stomach. He could at least hope his stomach can’t handle solid food right now and he vomits later.

He finally looked towards the door.

Anya had a wide look in her eyes as she held the gun, still smoking a little from the shot. Her gaze was trained on where Jimmy landed. There were tears there, but she didn’t let them fall.

Daisuke looked in a state of shock, looking between Anya and Jimmy, his hands covering his mouth. He made sounds like he was about to start saying something, but stopped. For once, his words seemed to fail him.

Swansea had the ax in a firm grip in his hands. He wore a serious expression, one that hid if he was shocked or scared at all.

All eyes trained to the gurgling, groaning sounds coming from the floor.

Jimmy wasn’t dead somehow. He clutched his throat as blood spilled from the wound, trying to choke out words. His eyes were wild, bloodshot. He tried to reach up, to grip the bed and haul himself up.

But no one even let him lift an inch.

Anya swung her foot into his side, as hard as she could. She looked shocked by her own movement as she drove the steel toe of the uniform’s boot into his rib cage. And again. And again.

The air dropped out of Jimmy’s body, sending him tumbling back to the ground.

Blood started to pool on the floor as he turned his attention to Anya. He grabbed at her pants, trying to haul himself up her leg, angrily pushing words out through his own drowning. “You…. bitch…”

Swansea didn’t let him get too far.

The ax made a sickening thud as it drove into the back of Jimmy’s head.

No one moved an inch. Not until Jimmy finally let go, collapsing into a pool of his own blood. His eyes were truly empty now. Open, but gazing into nothing.

“Oh my god… ooooh my god.” Daisuke murmured that to himself, unsure of what to do. There was a body in Med Bay. There was the body of their coworker, pilot, and briefly captain, laying dead in Med Bay.

“Good fucking riddance” Swansea mumbled to himself. He placed his heavy foot down on Jimmy’s back as he pulled the ax from his scalp. The blade dripped red, bits of hair stuck to the sticky edge.

“Holy shit… Holy shit, what do we do now?! Why… Why did you do that?!” Curly could hear the intern starting to hyperventilate.

“Why? You really wanna know fucking why? Ask Anya.”

Daisuke looked frazzled, switching between Anya and Swansea. “Anya?”

“...We need to get him out of here. Figure out where to put him where he won’t contaminate anything important?”

“Let’s take the important shit out of here and lock the door then” Swansea growled.

“I can’t just do that, Swansea, Curly still needs us.”

“Why are you still putting in the effort, Anya? He’s not going to make it out of this. All it’s doing is keeping you awake at night and stressed.”

“Why do you keep questioning my decisions, Swansea? I want him to live.”

Swansea looked unimpressed with that answer. Curly just stared into the back of her head.

Why…?

Take responsibility

Something deep within him churned.

“Well that still doesn’t tell us what to do with shit for brains down there.”

“Why don’t we… why don’t we put him in the cockpit? No one’s going in there again, right?” Daisuke… Poor, sweet Daisuke…

“Maybe. But we could need something from there. The code scanner was still there after all.”

Swansea dragged his hand down his face. “Well, where else are we gonna put it? All the rooms are sealed off.”

“What about the cargo hold?”

“Maybe we could pickle him in mouthwash.”

“Daisuke,” Swansea snapped, “not now. This is serious”

Curly could feel his stomach gurgling, waves of sick washing over his entire body. He knew what was coming, he could feel his throat starting to push the other way. He couldn’t bring himself to turn his head.

Maybe he’d finally choke to death. On the meat of his own leg.

As his… as the crew argued over the pilot’s body, Curly wretched.

The sounds of the argument might’ve stopped, or it might have been muted when Curly’s body pushed every ounce of energy it had into this evacuation.

His stomach emptied what little it had to begin with, the acid burning his already ruined throat, spilling over his face and chest. He sobbed as he felt the chunks of meat finally be expelled from his throat. He wanted it out, he wanted it out.

He sobbed as he wretched, tears burning the skin around his eye.

“Curly?!”

Anya rushed over to his side, trying to take stock of what caused him to get this sick. She gently turned his head, trying to get him to cough up whatever’s pooling in the back of his mouth.

“I-I… I thought it was mouthwash, I thought he gave you mouthwash… What… When did you get meat, Curly? How did you hurt your leg?”

Everything blurred in a haze of pain and choking.

I hope this hurts

Curly continued to sob, trying in vain to push her away.

Let me die

He felt rags being pressed against his leg to stop the bleeding, Anya once again trying her best to repair his destroyed limbs.

Not worth the effort

“Curly, stop, let me look at you.”

Take responsibility

Curly’s chest heaved, caught by coughs and sobs as she took the pieces of meat from his mouth. He couldn’t look at her. He had no right to look at her. She shouldn’t have to save him again. Not after everything.

“Oh… Oh my god…”

He finally let himself lift his head. Anya was looking at his leg. The bleeding she finally managed to stop. She looked between the cut, the bloody hacksaw Curly had dropped, and at the peace of meat.

“No… No, he didn’t, he couldn’t have…”

“That… That’s sick. That’s fucking sick.” Swansea was finally showing a little bit of emotion. One of revulsion. Daisuke looked like he’s about to be sick too, considering how much green there was on his face.

“Why… Why would he…” Daisuke nudged the dead pilot with his foot. Maybe he sought answers from the corpse, or maybe he was checking that he was really dead. “I thought… I thought they were friends…”

“They were… they were good friends.” Curly couldn’t tell if Anya had a tint of venom while she said that. He couldn’t place the emotions in her voice. He couldn’t blame her if there was bitterness there. “...There’s blood in your vomit…”

As Anya diligently cleaned his mouth and face, she took a closer look at what he had wretched up. It was mostly just bile, but… sure enough there was blood in it. Quite a bit.

“What does that mean?”

Swansea leaned over Anya to get a good look for himself. Curly couldn’t help but eye the still bloody ax uneasily.

They still haven’t decided what to do with him, after all.

“It could mean a lot of things… Blood in vomit could mean there’s something wrong with his stomach, or that he’s been swallowing blood. But…”

Anya continues her examination, gently taking a look inside his mouth, before touching along his throat.

He flinched when she reached Jimmy’s usual spot. Where he’d usually place his thumbs and let his weight do the rest. He couldn’t help the little pain filled wheeze that escapes him when she pushes on it lightly.

“...Leave. I’ll take care of this.”

“Anya-”

“Please. Leave. We can… We can discuss what to do after. I have a job to do.”

Swansea seemed taken aback by Anya’s firmness. But he didn’t say a word of protest. He just nodded. “Come on Daisuke. Let’s… Let’s take a breather.”

Curly didn’t look at any of them. Just stared at the ceiling as he heard the door open and close. The metallic smell of blood hung heavy in the air. But the silence felt heavier, like something was sitting on his chest.

“Curly…?” Her voice sounded wounded. Not again… he didn’t hurt her again, did he?

Take responsibility

“Curly, look at me right now.”

Take responsibility

He shook his head. He looked anywhere except towards her, even preferring the blindingly bright sunset than looking at her.

“Curly.”

Take responsibility

She turned his head to face her. She looked so sad… Why did she look sad?

“Curly. I need you to nod your head for yes and shake your head for no. Do you understand?”

Curly nodded.

“Is that too painful?”

Curly shook his head.

“...Curly, did Jimmy give you your painkillers when I asked him to?”

Curly nodded.

“Did Jimmy do so gently?”

Curly didn’t move.

“Curly, I need you to answer me. Did Jimmy give you your medications gently? Like how I demonstrated?”

Curly took a breath before shaking his head.

“Did he touch you in ways that hurt?”

Curly nodded.

“Did he hit you?”

Curly nodded.

“Did he…” Anya very lightly touched Curly’s throat. “Did he choke you, Curly?”

Curly hesitated. Anya was gazing so deeply into his eye. Her face was painted with worry. With regret.

The captain nodded.

She made an awful sound. Something between a gasp and a sob. She saw the bloody hand print smeared over Curly’s hospital gown. The places where his bandages had been pulled and dug into. She covered her mouth.

“I… I didn’t… I didn’t think he’d…”

She seemed to start and stop a few times.

Take responsibility

Curly shook his head.

No no no, Anya, don’t…

“I… I heard him… I heard him saying things… I didn’t think he’d… that he’d hurt you like he did me… I… I just wanted his attention off of me. I didn’t think what his attention on you could mean… Curly…”

Please… Please don’t say it…

“I-I’m sorry, Curly… I didn’t know… I didn’t want him to hurt you…” She started to tear up. She gripped the bloody hospital gown in her fingers as her breath hitched. “I’m sorry.” She let her head fall onto his chest as she started to sob. She shook as if the weight of the world was coming down on her shoulders.

Curly felt stinging around his eye again. Was he crying? He didn’t have the right. How dare he. How dare he make her apologize.

He shook his head as hard as he could.

Take responsibility

He should be the one apologizing.

I’m sorry Anya, I’m sorry Anya, I’m “orry… A…ya…”

Anya’s breath shorted for a second. She looked up, looked at him, her eyes red from crying but so very wide.

“C-Curly…? Curly did you just…?”

Take responsibility

“I… ‘orry…. A… ya…”

His throat gave out on him soon after, sending him into a wheezing cough. Everything hurt. More than usual.

Anya didn’t seem like she knew what to say. She was shocked to hear his voice again, as broken, strained, and fragile as it was.

“Curly…”

She returned her head to his chest, placed her ear over his heart, and listened. Listening to it persist, despite everything.

Neither of them spoke after that. Nothing interrupted the buzzing of the screen except a few hiccups from Curly’s chest.

There’s so many things he wishes to tell her.

More than anything, he wishes he could apologize again.

Again and again.

#mouthwashing #my writing #fanfic #my fanfiction #curly mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing

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fortunefavourstheboldau · 24 days ago

Text

chapter 6: remember my name

Chapter Text

"James."

"..."

Swansea walked over to the man, watching James struggle against the ropes he'd been contained in. He kicked the chair, before removing the duct tape over James's mouth.

"Fuck you."

James snarled at him, cheek caught on his yellowed canines.

"Hush. I have a few questions for you, boy. I'll give you dinner if you answer them."

"You're fucking torturing me? I haven't done anything! You lied to me! You know I didn't do anything, but you'd rather kiss Curly's boots so you get my paycheck!"

Swansea began to walk away, fiddling with the roll of duct tape in his tool-belt. He'd read snippets of Curly's notes, but they were practically illegible, so he wasn't even sure James had done something. But, he trusted Curly. If Curly decided something had to be done, something really had to be done.

"You know that's not true. Curly's not normally one to take action, so if he's decided you're a problem, you're a problem."

"So you've decided to blindly follow him? Like a pathetic, bleating sheep at his ankles? ... Do you really hate me that much that you would take anything he says as gospel? Even with all his problems?"

James's glare followed Swansea around the room, his hands clenched in tense fists. Red flared across James's face, the back of Swansea's hand sparking pain down his body.

"You fucking shot him! You were trying to kill him! Of course I'm not going to believe you. But, I'm giving you a chance to tell me what you did to make him feel the need to act against you."

"Why should I tell you? Wouldn't you rather hear it from your oh so stellar Captain? I'm sure he'll twist little lies to keep you in his web."

Swansea sighed, joints creaking as he moved to sit in front of James.

"I'm not doing the shit talk games. Just tell me what you did, and I'll throw in my portion of dinner too.. Jimmy."

God he hated calling James by his nickname. The name Jimmy made him sound like a good kid who plays on the swings at recess, and cries when the teacher forgets to assign him a role on the class jobs list. Not whatever he'd become now.

"Really? You'd do that,"

Jimmy glanced at Swansea's body, taking a little too long to stare at his stomach.

"considering the kind of... person you are?"

Swansea stood up, ignoring the fury beginning to build behind his eyes. He walked up to James, unravelling the duct tape from his tool-belt and replacing the old sliver. James struggled against the ropes harder, flinging his head against the back of the chair in the process.

"You know what, I give up. You can rot in hell for all I care."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Curly? You up yet?"

Was he really dead?

Anya couldn't bring herself to check.

Would the answer even comfort her in any way?

"I wish I hated you for not noticing sooner, honestly. I wish I could just tell you to leave me alone, and to never talk to me again, but I can't bring myself to."

She sat down beside him, leaning her head on the freezing metal of the cot. As much as she wanted to hate him, wanted to curse his name and leave him to drown in his sorrows, Anya couldn't bring herself to do so.

"I miss you. You haven't been yourself in a long time."

Anya grabbed his hand, running her fingers over the callouses etched into the weathered skin.

"You used to be so... happy to see me. You would practically light up the whole room when you came to greet the crew. ... Sure, it was all an attempt to seem like you knew what you were doing, but I think you used to like it here."

She looked up at him, eyes running over every scar on his limp body. Was he a natural blonde? She'd never met someone so tan with such bright blonde hair and blue eyes. God those eyes. It was as if he could see everything hidden away in her sombre soul. Every mask she put up, every shield to protect herself, every damn white lie to hide her cracks.

"I think we all used to like it here.. You made me feel like I belonged here. Like I wasn't a broken mess. You... you made me feel like my worst moment didn't make me a monster, incapable of ever finding solace in this place. And yet, you didn't do anything to prevent it from happening."

Anya felt a lump grow in her throat, struggling to swallow it down. She had to make peace with him. She couldn't stew on it any longer.

"You said it yourself, you told me you'd do anything. And now you've left me alone to fix this mess without you!"

She sobbed into the crinkled plastic of the bedsheets, chest heaving with every shaky breath.

"I-I can't do this by- by myself! ... please don't leave me here Curly!"

They wouldn't listen to her. They'd let Jimmy free when the Tulpar landed. Pony had blocked her every attempt to report him, why would they change now? They'd blame Curly's death on her, say she wasn't good enough at her job, say she failed her duties as his nurse. They'd find a way to blame Swansea for the misuse of the gun, applaud Jimmy for surviving his containment.

"You were the last person who... understood."

Anya clawed at her wrists, salt echoing on her tongue. Blood ebbed from reopened wounds, the pain strangely comforting in a way. She clawed and scratched for a sense of control, each spark of pain fuelling her to go further. They wouldn't remember her for what she'd done for them all. They'd remember her for what he did to her. They'd curse her name for not bringing the child to term. Her hopes and dreams would be forgotten, killed for the man who 'had a future ever so bright as a brilliant co-pilot', a 'reformed man, who'd been reintroduced into society despite his beginnings'. She didn't want to give them the chance to scorn her name.

"I'll see you s- soon, Grant."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A warbled cry crawled its way out of Curly's dry throat. He attempted to sit up, the bandages wrapped tightly around his thorax cutting into the exposed flesh; and slumped back down, defeated.

Was he back in his timeline?

Did he really fail her again?

Curly laid there, waiting for the agonising pain to sink back in. But it didn't. The freezing air circulating around the room from the company "certified" aircon clung to his body, and yet it didn't have the sting it used to.

"Ahnm- Ahnmya?"

He managed to croak out a semblance of her name, and yet... No one answered back.

"Annya? Where.. are you?"

He tilted his head towards the spot where he remembered Anya laying, cold and lifeless, after Daisuke broke into the medical bay.

"ANYA!"

Oh god, there was so much blood,

"DAISUKE! SWANSEA! ANYONE, HELP!"

Curly screamed, lungs turning to concrete. Was that a pill bottle? He crawled towards her, ribs burning in agony as he catapulted himself off the bed; and reached for her hand. Anya still felt slightly warm, but her face was a concerning blue.

"Anyha, can you hear me?"

Curly cradled her in his arms, pulling her as tightly towards him as he could manage.

"Anya, I need you to answer me! Please say something, Anya!"

~~*^`\/~*~*~~~----_____________

"Curls? Whats- ANYA?"

Swansea bolted over to the pair, heart sinking to his shoes. How long had she been like this? Based on the colour of the blood coagulating on her uniform, the blue tint appearing on her pale face, and the tear stains on Curly's face, it had been a while. Curly croaked out an order, voice shaking with every word.

"Top left cupboard. First aid. Now."

"How long?"

Swansea flung the cupboard doors open, searching for the iconic red of the first aid kit.

"... Too long, I'm guessing."

He threw the kit at the bed and rushed over to Anya.

"Can you help me get her up?"

Curly slid away from Anya, and lent out to lean on a monitor. His legs wobbled as he tried to pull himself up, cursing under his breath at his failure. Swansea sighed, lifting Anya as delicately as he could

"I'll take it from here, Captain. You stay there and direct me, okay kiddo?"

Swansea opened the first aid kit, searching for tools that would help him. Curly clung to the monitor, forcing his feeble legs to stand.

"Pressure, then check vitals, I think."

"Got it."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"She's pregnant."

"I know, Swansea. The baby's life is not a concern to be having right now."

Curly stood next to the older man, using him to stabilise his footing.

"Yours?"

"... Jimmy's. Not my story to tell."

Swansea looked over at Curly, brows furrowing in confusion. Curly sighed, beckoning for him to hand him his notepad.

"All I'm going to tell you is that I'm writing a report. At the next stop I'm handing him to the police, and upskilling one of the crew to replace him. I.. I should have done this a long time ago, but it's better late than never."

"Is that why you were so desperate for him to not get your notes?"

Curly shifted in place, tensing up. He hadn't told anyone except for Anya about the whole 'prior life' crap. Even then, he wasn't entirely sure Anya believed him, as much as she said she did.

"If he thinks the story's turning against him, he'll kill us all just to stay as the hero in the media."

"... I tried talking to him."

Fiddling with the pages of his notepad, Curly turned to Swansea.

"He tell you anything?"

"No. Kept berating me for 'blindly following you' and other bullshit like that. I even tried bribing him but then he pulled the 'im just giving you advice' shit."

Swansea sighed, handing Curly a recorder?

"You nicked my recorder too?"

".. Yes, but I recorded James havin' a screaming fit about you and Anya. Might help you with that report against him."

Curly hugged Swansea. He wanted desperately to tell Swansea everything, to sob into his oil-stained shirt and beg for forgiveness; but he wouldn't. Not until Anya wanted to say her side. He wouldn't let anyone take her voice away from her again.

"If Pony sues you two into the ground, you two always have a place at mine. You'll have to mow the lawn though."

"That lawn'll be sparklin' , Big Swans."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"They'll fucking regret this. I know this ship like the back of my hand. The Tulpar's my ship too, and she'll bend to my will. Once I break these ropes, this ship's going down in flames. I̴͛͜'̵̺͂m̸͎̈́ ̵̺̕g̷͙̿ǫ̷͘i̴̓͜ń̷̬ḡ̶̪ ̶͈͊ẗ̸̤́ö̵̖́ ̵̟͒f̴̧͝i̶̡̔x̸̣̃ ̸͉̇t̸̗̆h̵̳̋ȉ̷̞s̸̼͊.̸̞̓"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Anya stared at the night sky screen on the wall of the medical bay. God her wrists stung. By now she was used to that pain, but she'd never felt so lightheaded.

"You there, Anya? I'm uh.. I'm going to check your vitals, alright?"

She turned to face the blonde, his face beginning to pale. He was alive? She was alive too? Anya felt her heart drop to her stomach. So she'd failed that too. She couldn't even succeed at the one thing at the back of her mind always, a result of that damn dead pixel.

"Anya! Oh my god you're awake!"

Curly rushed over to her, taking both her hands in his.

"Morning, Curly."

Anya smiled at him, ignoring the spots flickering across her vision. She'd be surprised if the baby survived to the next stop, considering how close she'd gotten to completely passing based on the amount of blood staining the tiles.

"I missed you Anya."

"Thanks.."

Anya swallowed, a lump forming in her throat once again. She couldn't tell him she'd been fully convinced he was dead, and that had sent her into a spiral. She couldn't tell him she was considering not even making another report, that she was terrified of the legal system blaming her for her own assault. She didn't want to tell him she knew she'd get the questions asking her what she wore, what she said, if she really didn't want it. Anya knew the system would never believe her. But Curly was convinced it would.

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing good ending au #jimmy mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #fortune favours the bold

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reticent-writer · 2 years ago

Note

Hii :D

Wanted to request Anya x child reader (platonic ofc)

We're reader is a very energetic child and is a scene kid, one day spends the afternoon in Anya's house makes her wear the same stuff too and the two go show Loid how pretty they were (He/him or They/Them pronouns for reader)

Might request a couple more times

-Cloverrs

◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ I used he/him idk why it's just my default ig. Sorry this took so long I was trying to finish it by Sunday but the world was against me.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

"Papa Anya's home, brought a friend too." Anya exclaimed taking her shoes off and ran into the living room with you following behind her.

"Oh hello, you must be Y/n. Anya has told me about you." He lied. The most Anya had told him was your name, he did a background check on you and your family.

"Hello sir, thank you for having me over." You bowed saying a formal introduction. He expected nothing less from a student at Eden college.

"Thank you for being friends with Anya. Why don't you both go play while I make dinner."

"C'mon Y/n." Anya took you head and dragged you to her room.

Bon shot up and the sudden entrance and got up to greet you.

"Fluffly dog." You giggled as he rubbed against you, you started to pet the big floof and it seemed like he appreciated it.

"What do you wanna play?" You asked as Anya look around her room of toys and things loid gave her.

Her eyes landed on her nail kit and an idea popped into her head.

"Let's play dress up!"

"Okay!"

-------

You both were quite to the point were it made loid nervous so he checked up on you.

"Anya, Y/n. Are you both alright? " he knocked before griping the door nob to open it.

The door only opened halfway before Anya threw herself on it.

"NO. You can't come in, its- we're-" Anya struggled to find the words so like any good friend you helped her.

"It's a surprise"

"Yeah a surprise. We'll show you."

Loid was getting nervous. What kind of surprise could it be for Anya to slam the door like that.

------

"Look papa. I'm bondman." Anya ran into the kitchen were loid was, striking a pose. She was wearing beige trench coat, that was almost to big for here, with a hat to match.

"And I'm bondman's side kick." You wore black trech coat with a match hat. You and Anya were back to back sticking the same clothes.

You nails were painted a brilliant red and Anya's a pretty pink. (It was all over both of your hands along with other colors)

"Woof" bond barked, making his presence known. He once fluffy white coat was now sticky and multiple different colors. He was also wearing a hat.

"How... Nice." Lois was almost too stunned to speak. Not only had Anya made a friend, she managed to find someone just like her.

He's gonna get gray hairs dealing with the both of you.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

#male reader #sxf x reader #sxf x child reader #child reader #x child reader #spy x family x reader #reticent writes #reticent writer

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mwexodusofficial · 22 hours ago

Text

Chapter XXII: Duty

(Music: "Snowman", by Sia)

-------------------------------------------------------------

"What the hell are they putting on? It's the 31st of December. Fools."

The Magna Victoria descended well into the night, and its attendees grew more plastered as time went on- it became obvious once the music playing serene mixtures of classical and future melodies was hijacked by some random saboteur and Christmas music was played. The terrible duty of sobriety was passed from diplomats and nobility onto their unfortunate entourages, watching them enjoy this occasion with withering eyes. It was at this point that many individuals started growing a little 'goofy'- put simply.

The first major shenanigans were a hundreds-person-long conga line that passed through the hallways, joined by random passersby, some occasionally dipping out to enjoy other amusements. The second was a competitive drinking contest that started with a challenge between a foreign warlord and a Canari Martial Commander, ending in a synchronized macarena. People with unfathomable amounts of power and wealth were, simultaneously and most of the time, the same people who knew best how to throw the craziest, memory-making parties- especially when funding was not a concern.

The third shenanigan was Hawkes anticipating several high-end business magnates and nobility, both domestic and foreign, who would drink themselves into the confidence necessary to try and attempt persuasion on Captain Hawkes.

"Lord Hawkesshhh, how grandiose you look this evening! I can't believe they finally found those antique recordings!"

And here was the first one. Hawkes, who'd been previously sipping casually on a goblet of wine and admiring Curly and Anya from afar, groaned softly as a young-faced pale-skinned noblewoman with curly auburn-red hair, hailing from the Montaug District -indicated by the District lapel pinned to the rightmost breast section of her toned yet powerfully-appearing dress wear-, danced up with supreme confidence to him; clearly as blitzed as he was in the moment.

"Why thank you, Aristocrat #7819. Wuh the fuck are you talking about?"

The noblewoman hee-hawed with unhinged insobriety, leaving Hawkes unsure in his intoxicated state to determine accurately if she was genuinely laughing or playing the part to curry his favor. But for some reason... he didn't mind it. It was the first time he could remember being... relaxed.

FuCck it, He thought lazily and with an audible hiccup. I live in a whole world that loves me. I deserve a little R&R.

He cracked a smirk as he saw this dazzling young woman laughing so raucously, starting to focus on the little details in her appearance. Her button nose and freckles paired amazingly with cerulean eyes, a triangular-shaped face, and thin lips with a healthy pink hue accentuating good health.

"You're quick on your toes, aren't ya?" She remarked in a heavily Scottish accent, her laughter slowly dying down for her to take a long swig from a considerable mug of ale. "The Canari Neo-Antiquarian Society was set to retrieve a large digital archive of Christmas songs in anticipation of the upcoming date for the holiday. They missed the date by a few days because the crew got into an argument about the best Christmas singer for the 2000s, 1950s, and 2100s era, and ended up killing almost everyone on board. The pilot had to drive home doing both the navigation and steering, which apparently he said was 'resume-proofing'."

"That's... that's, uh, a lot to take in. I don't think I legibly heard half of that, and it's not because I'm torched. Did... they all return to life successfully?"

"Yep. Yep-yep-yep."

"Okay. That's... wow. And that... just happened? Like a few days ago?"

"Today."

"Oh, f- what the fuck happened to everyone while I was gone?? One year and everyone's turned into a fuckin' lunatic!"

The noblewoman's curly hair bobbed up and down as she giggled plentifully at the animated personality of Hawkes when his guard was dropped- treasuring every nanosecond of this interaction and secretly recording the whole thing on video and audio receptors hidden within her hair. "Divine intervention really did a number on everyone's sanity."

"Did they pick a winner for the Christmas singer thing?"

"Yeah. Mariah Carey."

"Who?"

"She's probably coming up on the speakers soon."

Hawkes snickered, finding another conversation with a random attendee that happened to be enjoyable.

"You seem like a rather animated noblewoman, compared to the many I've met. Who are you?"

The redhead nodded briefly, jutting a confident hand to shake with Hawkes. Acknowledging her greeting, he returned the handshake in kind.

"Lady Meridia Lennox, Baroness and Protector of Montaug District, Lord Hawkes."

"Well, there goes my introduction," Hawkes jested, prompting another giggle from Meridia, who seemed to grow rapidly more starry-eyed as the conversation went on.

Hold on a fuckin second, Hawkes thought morbidly. This looks terrible. I need to steer away from this, for both our sakes.

"So," He started. "What brilliant market strategy do you have to pitch to me?"

"Whuh?" The redhead muttered, having seemingly delved into her head for a second with wide-eyed intensity. "O-Oh, I wasn't here to pitch anything to you, Captain... I, actually I-"

Hawkes was now inevitably intrigued, seeing the frenetic and palpable chaotic energy emanating from her pores and the quivering look in her eyes indicative of immense trauma. "Is there something you're looking to... share?"

Meridia nodded frantically, an unsettling grin surfacing across her face and disappearing in waves. "I-I should probably whisper this..."

"Uh, okay..." He muttered, kneeling on one leg, leaning in, and allowing her to spill whatever secret she had cooked up; trying to remain inconspicuous as others were traveling around.

"So... so you probably-"

"Cover the periphery of your mouth with your hand, so others can't try and read your lips."

"O-Oh, right." She muttered, cupping her hands around her mouth and making Hawkes feel more illicit every second more. Negotiations had become far more difficult ever since his transfiguration, but he found it to be a small inconvenience at worst.

"You aren't gonna proffer me for sex, right?" Hawkes asked, and not ironically, either; he'd been solicited by hundreds of attendees in subtle and not-so-subtle ways all night thus far. It was growing tiresome to him and it wasn't something he had experienced at such an elevated rate before the Era of Divinity. He groaned in disgust. People directly witness the work of God on a CCTV camera, and they think to indulge in their base desires even more?!

"What? N-No... unless you're asking me to-"

"Forget I asked, just- say your piece."

"S-So, I kind of did something a little, uh... illegal."

"Tell me about it."

"H-heh, right... so... I really wanted to, uh, get a title promotion because, well, I can't obtain a lot of the permits and networking opportunities necessary to get my District revitalized, you know, as a low-brow Baroness, so, uh... I, uh... I-I paid a lot of money to some Trial Keepers, and they, uh, um, they let me undergo a Combat Trial without all the, uh, previous things you have to do..."

Hawkes was a little speechless for a few moments; what he'd heard needed a lot of unpacking mentally. A Combat Trial was only undergone by the Atriarchs and recognized heroes of Canaris; primarily because they were fights where the foe was horrifically superior in some form. Rhinos, packs of Wolves, cougars, leopards, lions, apes, elephants, hippos... and most usually, the contestant or Atriarchs were given pitiable weaponry or armor with a few advantages, such as exoskeleton suits for increased mobility, ranged weapons against packs of predators, etcetera.

Hawkes had cemented his "Icon of Canaris" title after taking on a Combat Trial against an offspring of the Terror; a Gaiter, known for the stumbling gait it carried in its movement as a result of genetic defects and mutations; caused as a result of the rapid production and spawning of these half-baked atrocities. But for a regular person, even with physical enhancements or augmentations, to try and take on a Combat Trial without years of death-defying experience, was akin to a horrible, gruesome suicide.

"W..." Hawkes started. "Y... Did... Are... Did you... survive?"

Meridia nodded, seeming to grow pale and sweating uncontrollably as she vividly revisited the memory in real-time.

"Y-Yep. Yep! I killed it."

"Wh- Well, fucking- with a gun, or a lance, I presume?!"

"N-No, I just kind of w-winged it with a Ka-Bar knife-"

"ARE YOU A-... Are you a fucking dumbfuck? Are you actually fucking- YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"

Hawkes was enraged that this stupid bitch had the gall to reel him in emotionally and then smack him in the face with the iconic glove of stupidity. "Tell me you're augmented."

"..."

Hawkes stared for a good twenty seconds at this enigma standing in front of her.

"You're lying."

"N-No, but i-it did hurt."

Hawkes fell morbidly silent as she gruesomely recounted the event as if it happened only a day ago.

"I-I walked into the, uh, arena, and, uh they, uh, opened the door to the grizzly's cage-"

"You fought a g-r-i-z-z-l-y b-e-a-r?"

"Y-Yes, you know, I, I wanted to s-show off to the, uh, Atriarchs, and you so, uh, yeah, but, uh, it hurt alot. I-I lost my eye, and he, uh, took some swipes and, uh, ripped my torso, and uh, my face, and bone, so, I-I, and I, uh, think he took my arm off, and, uh, legs-"

Captain Hawkes quickly took off his beret and gently placed it against Meridia's mouth as she vomited into it violently, quickly and quietly leading her to an isolated area.

What the fuck? Hawkes wondered miserably. I have to fix this whole fucking planet's mental states, as well? What the fuck?

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(Music: "The Sigh of the Land", by Thomas Gould)

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WHAT IS THAT GINGER BITCH DOING, EXISTING NEXT TO HIM?!

Lilia, utterly fuming with plumes of rage shooting off in her brain like engine cylinders in a twin-turbocharged V16 motor. From a distance, she was silently watching some ditzy redheaded bimbo try and cozy their way up against Hawkes, and could hardly stand the urge to walk over and stick a knife through her gut.

But that wasn't her objective for today. She was tasked with keeping an eye on a number of individuals, both Canari and foreign emissaries, who would be potential threats or issues going into the future. Although there were hundreds more like Lilia, scanning from the shadows to report any unusual behavior or activity they detected; she was the only one who had the privilege of speaking directly with Hawkes about any action needing to be taken.

That seemed to work against her, however, as she was gritting her teeth watching Hawkes escort the nauseous Meridia into a separate room. Don't even attempt seduction, wench. I know everything that goes on. Born in 2261, on 1776 Epilon Way, located in Litton Ward, Montaug District, Ilto Province. And yet despite her status as low nobility, she was still given an invitation to this prestigious event, meant especially for the Captain. You cheeky whore!

Lilia was of the mindset that those with greater ranks demonstrated far greater loyalty, a unique trait of Canari culture stemming from its hundred-year martial history. With all the information she had at her disposal, both on and off-world, she had tracked the statistical patterns of precisely-refined material data to which she studied at great length on so many topics it gave her an immediate headache to try and recall them all at once. When it came to loyalty of nobility, regardless of planet, there was a measure of inexperience, naivete, and unpredictability when it came to low nobility; especially in Canaris' culture, where time and conflict weeded out the good stock from the rot and muck. On numbers alone, she had more than enough reason to distrust the motivations of this fat-bosomed airhead.

Minutes passed, and Lilia grew bored staring at the door Hawkes had last entered, painstakingly focusing her eyes on other displays. She was immune to the hundreds of entertainment pieces laid out by the walls of the grand multi-story complexes that composed the several wings of the Epocha Villae. If anything, she had become intrigued with Hawkes' fixation on the four rescued 'survivors' from the Tulpar and decided she'd spend a little time observing them to see if there was any appeal about them.

She navigated through the crowds of attendees, completely unknowable with the white fox mask she donned for the occasion; since the event was multi-themed, most things went since everyone was thoroughly checked and disarmed at the entrances, and undercover spies were lurking all throughout the metroplex, eyes ever-watchful of the attendees present.

There's Curly and Anya, she thought, her eyes honing in on the couple mingling with a renowned author and his wife. Anya was sipping from a fine glass of wine, her oak-brown irises simultaneously revealing a constant trauma deep within, and a vastly-growing sense of importance and ego. Being a people-reader all her life, Lilia could dissect people to a certain extent based on mere sight alone. With Anya, she had the entire situation laid out, from the video records, to her interactions post-revival- everything Lilia was using right now to break down why Anya had suddenly suffered a severe personality change.

Immediately after revival, Anya was mostly catatonic, responded most often to Curly, lived in a visible sense of constant terror and existential breakdown; practically a messy wreck of a human being. Two months into the voyage back to Canaris, and time adjusted her mental state to the grittiness of reality, she reverted to her original personality as described by Curly in the Divinity Chamber, along with the mental assessments available from the Tulpar. Once they had arrived in Canaris, Anya spent much of her time roaming the streets with Curly, admiring the architecture and infrastructure of the planet; Lilia assumed that to be a juxtaposition from the dreary circumstances she died so terrible within. It would explain why she was drawn to the glittering landscape; if Lilia didn't know any better, it seemed like Anya was dissociating from reality and believing this predicament to be some form of an afterlife. But that wasn't a solid analysis, not after this recent transition Lilia was watching unfold right now. She brought one finger up to move a strand of hair behind her ear, holding the receiver micro-button placed on the inner layer of her ear.

"Garos, C/A, eaves."

"Mhm."

Lilia released the receiver and focused her eyes on Anya and Curly, waiting for the spy's transmitter to send over the conversation on record as he got within range. Here it was...

"-So I said, "Ouch. You wound me, Anya. If that's your professional opinion do you think they'll still let me fly?" Haha!"

The sound of raucous laughter blared into Lilia's ear, and she turned the volume down in annoyance for a moment before reverting it to the original state.

"Curly, you're a charismatic guy! You know, after hearing about that whole story from the news? Man, I can't believe they aren't building a statue of you right now-!"

"Don't let Hawkes hear that," Lilia muttered amusingly to herself; a well-developed habit in her isolated years of espionage and surveillance to preserve her sanity.

"I would agree, Curly. You are an icon of a leader, and the way you handled that scoundrel-"

Lilia's eyebrows furrowed in concern as she saw Curly, from a distance, seem to leer back as the words reached his ears.

"O-Oh, my apologies, sir, I didn't mean to offend you-"

"N-No, it's fine! It's nothing. Just, you know... I'm just glad everyone that matters is safe and sound, and got to see their families again. That's all that matters..."

Lilia was frustrated she could only see the backs of Curly and Anya, but she could discern the faces of the author and his wife, who seemed in complete marvel at the sight of Curly and Anya; for good reason, too. The legend of the Stranded Tulpar had become a galaxy-rallying event whose story stuck out because of the emotional headline that a particularly influential and anti-corporate journalist had put out after eight months had passed and hope for their survival was lost.

'Last Manned Crew of Pony Express, Stranded and Presumed Dead, Abandoned Transporting Mouthwash."

The headline alone sparked outrage on a scale never seen before in human history. Tens of billions of people from every inhabited planet donated funds, resources, and materials to the effort of locating and rescuing the Tulpar crew. It was this monumental effort that allowed for such a thorough investigation of the deepspace region where the Tulpar's signals last emitted from; and it wasn't long before they were found.

To stand here, before what was the equivalent of a genocide survivor, most undoubtedly felt unique and ethereal, especially because it was made well aware that these four had only come back through resurrection- further cementing a spiritual belief which rampaged unhindered through the galaxy once their discovery and rescue was announced.

"Well don't worry a bit, Curly, Anya. My wife and I helped pitch in to the Intragalactic Civil Liability & Action Association, because we're fed up with these corporatist devils treating god-honest good souls like you two in such a horrible way. I mean, last manned c-r-e-w? That was the worst atrocity I'd ever heard since the Bastian Trespass!"

Curly nodded his head, his expression indiscernible to Lilia.

"Thank you for the kind words, Mr. Lakermeyer. And thank you for the offer of a book deal; I'll consider it if the royalties are good."

The group laughed collectively at the joke.

"You're on a roll, Curly! And- oh, my apologies, Anya, I didn't mean to exclude you from the conversation."

Anya bowed her head, raising it gracefully in a manner Lilia was unsettled by. Where had this poise suddenly emerged from?

"I take no issue, Samuel. I was just thinking of our future plans here. There's so many opportunities for growth and alternative financial revenues!"

"Where did this confidence come from?!" Lilia muttered in complete shock.

"I see, I see. Are you two planning on settling here? And if so, do you feel as if the urban life calls to you, or the farmland and luxury districts on the higher layers?"

Anya responded as if the line were rehearsed.

"I've spoken with the realtors in the Rolftaine District, they have some wonderful beachside property, and in the Gallos District there's some farmland I'm hoping to acquire to grow some formidable cash crops. I'd also like to start a medical practice eventually, once I acquire my licensing and complete my residency."

Lilia's jaw would have dropped to the floor if it was humanly possible. She was absolutely confident Hawkes would tear his own head off if he knew how much development he was missing out on.

"Well, that's quite a plan! And all the more power to you!"

The wife suddenly spoke up, introducing a more brutal topic as if prying for firsthand accounts.

"I was infinitely curious, how the Tulpar co-captain -since they won't name him for some reason yet- how he managed to acquire the auto-pilot override keys- if that's correct from the reports. It confounded me how such a crash was so easily attainable-"

Anya suddenly wrapped her arm around Curly's right arm, and Lilia, even without seeing Anya's expression, sensed a severe defensiveness about her demeanor.

"Captain Curly had delegated the responsibility onto the co-captain, who abused his position to break into the Captain's quarters and steal the override key. He wanted everyone to die, including himself, selfishly. Curly tried to turn the ship at the last second. He's the only hero to come out of this."

The author and his wife were stunned by Anya's forward and aggressive assertiveness, nodding their heads and bowing in apology.

"I apologize for my wife and I, sir and ma'am. We don't mean to pry any further-"

"Of course, no harm done. I hope you don't mind if Curly and I attend to a meal."

"A-Absolutely! We'll stop bothering you two. Enjoy your night, and God bless you!"

The author and his wife walked away, whispering and muttering to each other about the encounter and looking back with marvel and awe still lingering in their gazes. Curly and Anya moved to the banquet, followed closely by Lilia's spy. Now that their faces could be seen, Lilia noted Curly's expression was fixed into one of unassailable guilt and humiliation. Anya's was animated with intensity, conviction, and a mound of unresolved anger.

"Curly, please don't wear that look. We've talked about this so many times, and I will talk to you about it as many times as needs to be talked about."

"...I know..."

"Don't say 'you know', Curly. Please, stop feeling guilty. You know who is to blame. You don't have to focus on the past so much. Look where we are! I mean, look at the food, our outfits, our caretaker, and the real prospects we now have! Heck, our family's here! It's everything we ever w-a-n-t-e-d-! Just STOP talking and thinking about it."

Despite Anya's passionate declarations of pure euphoria, Curly could only muster a genuine happiness for Anya's enjoyment- as he was clearly denying himself any form of pleasure the longer he walked around the Villae. Anya noticed the lack of change in Curly's own enjoyment and expressed serious frustration, first pouting and then outright emitting sounds from her mouth to signal her disapproval. She walked over to a banquet table, grabbed a slice of chocolate cake and started offering it aggressively to Curly, who obliged and took bites from the spoon-fed portions.

"This is better than that crappy cardboard cake we made you. Hawkes told me it was made by ten-thousand chefs from the most renowned restaurants in Canaris! Tell me what ten-thousand chef cake tastes like."

Curly seemed to mutter for a bit as he chewed the contents in his mouth and swallowed, sighing in feigned approval, and grinning with hollow eyes.

"Tastes like if you were a cake."

Anya giggled, slapping him in the arm.

"It almost sounds like you like me!"

"You might be onto something..."

The two of them continued to chortle in good, trauma-veiled fun, and Lilia felt satisfied to conclude her investigation of these two, independent of whatever obsessive feeling Hawkes had for these four.

Not that she could judge him.

Curly was still in deep guilt; that was undeniable and hadn't changed since his Reformation. Anya, however, had undergone an insane arc that seemed to slip under everyone's radar. Lilia knew her records, she knew all of theirs- Anya was born on a poor industrial world, generally unmotivated, bullied by the other children for her submissive personality, which led to loss of self-esteem. Grew up frustrated with herself and being tied to the planet, and began studying medicine after her grandfather suffered a serious illness. Took her planet's medical exam eight times, failed every time. First job off-world was with the Tulpar at the age of 26 in hopes of getting the funds to continue taking the exams.

So a poor, mistreated, traumatized young woman who'd spent eight months in dread of dying in the middle of nowhere for no good reason, terrified for months on end by the lurking predator that was ever-present onboard the Tulpar- was now thrust into a world of absolute decadency, several varieties of easy income streams, a fantastic living situation with all of her family and relatives relocated to their consent, with her crush-turned-lover fully reformed and by her side, and was kept permanently and perpetually safe and valued by a war-born veteran who virtually owned the planet.

Yeah, Lilia didn't see how there were many sane ways to cope with that kind of abrupt change, no matter how much Hawkes tried to cushion the transitions. Anya going from a meek, nervous, shy young woman to a confident, assertive, cunning, and devoted lover was not what Lilia expected in the slightest, but simply had to accept that it was a fact of reality- for now.

Hawkes was going to lose his shit, undoubtedly. Now it was time for Lilia to see to Swansea and Daisuke-

"Hey, Lily."

"H-HAWKES!"

Lilia lost her composure as Hawkes appeared beside her, without his cap on, revealing his military buzzcut for his jet-black hair. He rubbed his chin in discomfort, thinking of how to frame his words.

"Sorry, was I interrupting your duties?" Hawkes asked.

"Nope." Lilia replied simply.

"Oh, alright. Well, that Meridia woman is a piece of work. Poor bastard did a Combat Trial illegally just to try and get a title raise to start requesting financial grants."

"Why would she do that?"

Hawkes seemed to shroud in guilt as the question was asked, and immediately Lilia wanted to cut her tongue out for causing such an expression to emerge on his face.

"Er... well, it seems that some of the edicts I lobbied for a, uh, few years ago had... placed restrictions on nobility ranks, since apparently embezzlement and overspending were becoming a big issue. And, uh, apparently she needed the money because her district was suffering from a localized plague and she didn't have the adequate hospital services to take care of everyone."

Lilia could see the guilt riding across him the further he got into his explanation, and immediately went to assuage his concerns.

"That is certainly not your fault by any measure. You can't be expected to see and do everything right."

"Yes, but, I could have reviewed those fucking bills more thoroughly! Fuck! FUCK! This whole place..."

His gaze turned to ashen rage, drifting across the faces of those attending; and those that met his gaze immediately shriveled and hurried away without hesitation.

"This place has been left to fester and rot without my direction. These warriors have descended into complacency, lechery, needless decadence. I have much to do while I'm here."

You are so fuckin' hot, Lilia thought, unrealizing she was panting heavily and laser-focused on his lips. I don't want to heap Anya's unsettling transition onto you right now. You need to unwind.

"Well, I'm tired of everyone else getting to have fun, let's you and I go and enjoy yourselves for a bit."

"W-Wha-!" Lilia spluttered. "B-But I can't... I can't be seen with you in public! I'm your Chief Espionage-"

"Maaaaaan," Hawkes groaned. "I just don't care anymore. I'll get another super spy, there's millions of them out there on Canaris alone." His eyes suddenly glanced toward Lilia, wondering if he should recite the cheesy line in his head.

"B-But-" He stumbled. FUCK! He thought furiously. Get it right, you mongoloid!

"But... there's only one of you, Lily." He said as romantically as he could, shooting finger guns at her as if that would lessen the embarrassing line. Oh yeah, that was the highest echelon of cringe imaginable.

That didn't matter a single iota of an ounce of a bit to Lilia. I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU-

"I l-..." She choked, unable to get the words out of her mouth. She felt it was still too soon to declare love, especially in a public setting like this. She knew both Hawkes and her were more accustomed to private intimacy, more than anything else. "W...What would you like to do first?'

-------------------------------------------------------------

(Music: "Brand New Key", by Melanie)

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Hawkes and Lilia roamed the Villae together, admiring the various new amusements that took their attention, enjoying their drinks a little more easily due to the home-field advantage instinct they felt from being in the epicenter of their homeworld. Emile, who was passing by in conversation with Yusei having intense conversations about body proportions and geographic-based slurs, suddenly noticed Hawkes' towering demeanor and paled in the face, with the dog Hercules immediately curling around Emile and baring his teeth while growling in a low tone.

"C-Captain H-"

"HAWKES!" Yusei said giddily. Hawkes delivered a half-second expression of pure disgust as Yusei entered his view, then craned an analytical gaze down to Emile, simply eyeing the dog with cold curiosity before returning his steely look to Emile.

"Argonaut. I heard you were de-enlisting to join the Canaris Rescue Dispatch."

"W-Well, yes, C-Captain, I-I-"

Hawkes raised an eyebrow, wondering why this former subordinate was shriveling with terror; though it was of no surprise to Lilia. Traitor in the making, she thought loathsomely, recalling Emile's government records and history on Olima; as well as the conversations had with friends about Captain Hawkes, after the skirmish against the Hannou Armada.

"Let's find a banquet table," Lilia enticed Hawkes as she led him away. No need to waste this precious time on a misandrist and a 1-bit rebel, she apathetically concluded.

"What was that about?" Hawkes muttered, looking back as Emile, a growling Hercules, and Yusei walked away, Emile occasionally darting glances of fear back before catching up with the diplomat. "I gotta double-check the Argonaut registry, because I swore I only approved fanatic loyalists- they're the only type of soldiers reliably worth a damn in war."

"Don't fret about that, Hawkes," Lilia insisted, knowing that Hawkes was quite oblivious to the morbid effect his death-making had on normal human beings; and that there were also support staff onboard the Argonaut who didn't share the same mindset Hawkes was describing. "I-"

"Captain Hawkes!"

Lilia grit her teeth in frustration as a small group of business magnates approached Hawkes, bearing gifts in hand as a clear gesture of 'let's-talk-business'. Hawkes snarled, straight-up, at them like a honey badger, initially frightening them into retreating a few steps backward- but their persistence won out, and they continued forth, raising trembling smiles as they shakily presented their gifts.

"Lord Hawkes-" The foremost businessman stated. "We'll keep it brief. We have a great portfolio of necessary goods and services, but we're looking for a land grant in the Calginius Province to restructure our production lines-"

"Oh my fuck, must you assail me with business jargon while I court my lady?!"

Lilia blushed from head to heels as Hawkes made the brazen declaration, feeling as if she was going to faint from the blood rushing to her head.

"-'bUt wE hAvE gReAt vErTicAls'!!" Hawkes continued to rant incessantly. "Well, I have a great vertical as well- An UPPERCUT to your JAW!"

Lilia was engrossed in the humorous interaction between Hawkes and the shivering entrepreneurs, and let her guard down- just long enough for the Matriarch to appear behind and to her right. Inches away.

"So you're his esteemed lover, then." The voice hissed with bitter malice and envious, jealous, wrathful outrage. "I fucking hate you so much I could tear myself apart from skin to bone. But I can't hurt you. You lucky cunt. The only person in this whole world I cannot touch. Lucky, lucky, lucky. You will give him everything he deserves and more. And the very moment you falter- I will take him all for myself."

Before Lilia could even open her mouth to respond, the Matriarch disappeared from sight, as if dashed through a portal. Lilia realized she was sweating profusely and had failed to breathe the entire time the Matriarch was talking. For all her wisdom and calculations, she had entirely forgotten about the Matriarch and the sheer power she held over this planet.

"Yeah, and FUCK OFF!" Hawkes shouted scathingly at the retreating and apologizing businessmen. He huffed and groaned tiredly as he walked back up to Lilia. "The next shitheel to break up our together time is gonna- hey, are you okay?"

Lilia had tried to re-compose herself after the veiled threat, but had failed to do so.

"H-Hawkes, can I be honest with you?'

"Always."

"I-I don't think I'll be safe on this planet anymore."

"W...What the fuck are you talking about, pardon my Frog?"

Lilia chuckled at the abrasive joke from Hawkes, trying to convey her panic without revealing enough to cause catastrophic issues on such a monumental and important night.

"I-I just think I should remain on the Argonaut until the month-"

"Lilia, tell me what's wrong."

Lilia, quivering in rapidly-increasing fear and dread, settled her gaze on Hawkes to comfort herself from the approaching reality that she had basically just pissed off the rulers of the most powerful nation in this quadrant of the galaxy.

"I-I... I pissed off someone very powerful who had eyes on you-"

"Non-issue, I'll kill them. Who?"

Lilia shook her head rapidly, realizing she was digging herself into a deeper hole everytime she revealed information.

"H-Hawkes, I-I-" She began to sob, utterly terrified that she would be potentially steering the course of history and jeopardizing Hawkes and Canaris entirely with her next words. "I-I-!"

"Lilia, take a breathe and look at me, okay?"

Lilia raised her darting, frantic, tear-stricken eyes to Hawkes'; seeing reassurance, affection, unwavering confidence.

"There is nothing you could tell me that would make me dislike you. Nothing. I would obliterate stars if they stood between you and me. Got it?"

Lilia nodded, sniffling and wiping her eyes.

"It's... the M...Matriarch..."

Hawkes froze for a second, and for that singular second Lilia felt as if the world had collapsed in on her-

Then he smiled, huffing through his nose once.

"You're crying and stressing your beautiful face over that?" He chuckled dryly, his eyes beginning to glaze over as a rapid plan formed in his head. "Give me a minute, and just calm yourself, okay? Here, take my wine and down that whole glass, alright? It better be empty when I get back, hih!"

Hawkes stood up, throwing one last glance of affection and assurance at Lilia before walking over to the Atriarchs and engaging in a short conversation. Lilia saw the Matriarch's face brighten, then pale, then turn skeptical, then brighten again. Utterly confounded, Lilia watched as Hawkes walked back to Lilia and gently raised her from the steps she was sitting on to recompose herself. He turned his back to the Atriarchs before promptly rattling off a set of orders.

"Lilia, follow my instructions."

"Okay."

"When I turn my side to face the Atriarchs, my and your lips will be read by the Matriarch attentively. I will say, 'You should consider it, I want my first time to be unforgettable', then you will pretend to hesitate for a long few moments, then respond with, 'I need to give it some thought, this is too sudden right now.' Did you get that?"

Beyond bewildered, Lilia simply nodded in compliance. Hawkes nodded in acknowledgment and turned his side to the Atriarchs.

"You should consider it, I want my first time to be... unforgettable."

Lilia was stuck in a near-catatonic state for a moment, and almost recited her lines too quickly, before reigning herself back in and tempering herself to wait those few moments before responding.

"I...I, uh... I need to... give it some... some ti- thought. This is, just, too sudden..."

Hawkes nodded in feigned understanding. "Alright, I get it, let's go check out what Daisuke and Swansea are up to, and maybe pelt the former with iceballs if he starts getting insufferable."

Lilia laughed genuinely, trying not to even drift her eyes near the Atriarchs at the present moment as they walked towards the hallway heading to the other wings. As they got out of view of the Atriarchs, Lilia shot a look of pure confusion at Hawkes, who snickered at his own brilliant mindplay.

"W-What the fuck just happened?!"

"I told the Matriarch I knew what she did, then said if she ever did it again or put a finger on you I'd kill them and everyone on Canaris then myself. Then I said I'd ask you if you'd consider polygamy in the future, and she seemed content with that conclusion."

Lilia's brain was so fried from this turn of events-

"PATRONS OF CANARIS! THE PEACE-MAKER OF OLIMA, PRESIDENT WEISS, REQUESTS AN AUDIENCE WITH THE ATRIARCHS!"

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(Music: "Red Dress", by Adrián Berenguer)

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The entire room full of attendees swiveled their undivided attention to the olive-skinned declarant that had proudly announced the entrance of a white-marble outfitted light-skinned young woman with white-flowing hair, an intense and piercing gaze, and a billowing cape that fluttered in front of the dozens of entourage members courting her side. They entered into the room from the far right end opposite to where the Atriarchs were lounging, and President Weiss walked in with austerity and an air of righteous indignance. She stood several meters away from the Atriarchs and began a conversation loudly and prominently.

"Good evening, Matriarch Ileiya and Patriarch Casirius! I have come bearing a declaration from the United Sovereignties of the Western Quadrant! Our alliance first formed as a matter of necessity during the Era of Terror, when the likes of the Danze Autarchy and the Krai Dynasty wreaked havoc across the galaxy with impunity! That time is past, and now it is time to repay historical wrongs and give voice to the wronged!"

A thin, olive-skinned female diplomat shuffled up beside President Weiss and bowed her head humbly. "Here before you," President Weiss announced boldly. "Is a diplomat from Hannou!"

As soon as the word 'Hannou' was uttered from her mouth, the chamber nearly broke out into a revolt, with several of the Canari attendees smashing their glasses against the floor and shouting in outrage and fury at Weiss and the Hannou diplomat, who barely moved as they raged at the obvious display of insubordination. President Weiss continued over the boisterous noise, trying to get the rest of her message across.

"CANARIS HAS HISTORICALLY EXPLOITED HANNOU FOR THEIR FERTILE LANDS, STRATEGIC LOCATION AND TOOK ADVANTAGE OF THEIR CIVIL WAR THROUGH THE ARMS TRADE AND THE LENDING OF MERCENARY GROUPS TO BOTH FACTIONS! THESE ATROCITIES MUST BE AMELIORATED AND ADDRESSED BY CANARIS-"

-"Silence."-

The Canari in the room immediately fell silent, as did all those who were in the presence of the Patriarch as he spoke; even President Weiss, who had intended to carry out the speech to its end, knew to quiet herself or risk death; she raged silently after realizing she'd lost the precious minute she had to make her declaration to the limited press permitted at the Epocha Villae- this political stunt was intended to grab the press and maximize the amount of people who'd see her message of unification against despots. The Patriarch stood up from his elevated seating, walking down the steps gently as the Matriarch glared at President Weiss with calculations running through her head.

"You come to my planet, pay no deference for the boundless generosity we provide, then spit on our floor by bringing a representative of our mortal enemy and deliver vapid declarations about 'historical wrongs'."

The Patriarch, having come upon the kneeling President, simply glowers with the deepest levels of contempt a human could express outwardly.

"After this event tonight, I shall travel to your world, walk into the epicenter of your planet's governance, and piss on your desk so the droplets may spatter across your features. I will watch you clean your face and your desk with that diseased tongue of yours. Then we may discuss your farcical goals in the name of moral grandstanding, Club President."

President Weiss turned cherry-red in the face, regretting having pulled this political stunt even as exclusive journalists scribbled down the historic event as it was unfolding. She feared she should have introduced the Hannou diplomat at the end of her speech, when the shock factor was just beginning to wear off, but it was far too late now. The Patriarch continued to loathingly stare her down, eyes narrowing in malicious forethought.

"Perhaps I should relieve myself on your eyes now and save myself the cost of travel."

The chamber burst out into raucous laughter, sparing those who were strongly aligned with Olima and the likes of the USWQ, who simply shook their heads in disgust or kept silent for a variety of other reasons. The Patriarch spent a few more dragged-out seconds humiliating President Weiss in silence, before returning to his seat.

"You can stand now, and begone from my sight. If that charcoal-shoveling third-world hick is still here by sunrise, I'll flay her alive at the edge of the atmosphere. Enjoy your stay, President Weiss of Olima."

President Weiss stood up with a strained face of feigned indifference, bowing her head in obligated respect before turning on her heel and beckoning her entourage to follow. Hawkes utterly basked jubilantly in the engagement; if neither of the Atriarchs had stepped forward to handle this disrespectful clown, he would have caved her head through the floor for demonstrating such blatant insolence to the Atriarchs, uncaring for what wars it started. It was a wonder the Atriarchs didn't execute her themselves- and it was even more shocking that the President performed such a suicidal stunt; if anything, Hawkes had to commend her for the sheer courage to stand up in the face of death for what she believed in.

"C-Can we go now??" Lilia muttered, already traumatized from the earlier interaction with the Matriarch and now bombarded by this tense interaction. Hawkes nodded, following her speedily into another area of the Villae that was less dramatic and high-stakes.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Daisuke found himself stumbling into the restroom, groaning as his bladder was filled to the brim with the waste contents from alcohol. He staggered towards the stall, as drunk as his bladder was full, eventually managing to find stability on the dividers to his left and right as he worked to unzip his pants and relieve himself.

"Haaaahhh...." Daisuke sighed in the unique relief that could only occur from expelling the rejected contents from a body.

Beep! Beep!

"Ah-! What the hell?!"

Quickly finishing up and zipping his pants, Daisuke quickly pressed on a notification playing on his wrist holopad; a gift given to him from Hawkes as a way of keeping in contact with the Captain and the other crewmates. Daisuke was more than a bit shocked to see the Patriarch's face pop up on his screen, beaming with pride and an underlying agenda.

"Hey, hey, Daisuke, my favorite ditz!"

"Favorite what?"

"Hmm, exactly! So, this is a bit sudden, but I just received some atrocious news, and, uh, I'm not gonna lie? Hawkes is gonna jump on that shit immediately, and we really can't have him dying at all ever, which means I'm gonna need you to take on a gift I wasn't quite ready to give to you yet- it's gonna look a bit familiar since Swansea already kinda maybe potentially received the same thing."

Daisuke scratched his head, trying to break down the Patriarch's words and understand what he was conveying.

"It'll be in your room as soon as you walk out, along with a little gun that you can just call the 'Plasma Cutter', I mean, if you want, that is! Call it that, please. So, anyways, there's a mission I have for you that's gonna involve you and Swansea."

Daisuke locked in, hearing that there was potentially a great purpose for him; this was a personal sore area, especially after returning from death, as his biggest fear had been purposelessness; eight months trapped on a stranded, failing wreck, and he'd just graduated college- it was a no-brainer that he would take a massive amount of mental trauma from that kind of event. He had thought the entire time; every second, minute, hour, day, week, month. Is this how the start of my life ends? I die transporting... useless mouthwash?

Such a horrific existential epiphany carried with him to his violent end; and restarted as soon as he came back to life. He'd done his absolute best trying to put on a good face for Swansea, who'd practically lost his mind after seeing Daisuke rise from the dead. He'd felt it more natural when he was optimistic and naive and swaggering his way through the new navigations of a second life. But that feeling of existential terror always stuck with him, and was only magnified a hundredfold after returning to life.

So if there was a purpose to be had; something he could commit himself to for a greater good- he was in his most vulnerable state to fall prey to such a prospect.

"W-What do you need done, sir- I mean, My Liege?"

"Just call me Sirius. I'll be brief-"

-------------------------------------------------------------

Hawkes and Lilia had linked up with Curly and Anya, and the four of them began searching for Swansea so they could pull a small prank on him that was concocted in brief discussion. Once he was located, Anya snuck up around behind him with a pie taken from a table in her right hand, while Curly walked up and greeted him.

"Hey, Swansea. Enjoying the party?"

Swansea huffed, eyeing Curly up and down and starting to sense deception afoot.

"What are you-"

Tap, tap.

Instinctively, Swansea turned around to confront the individual tapping their shoulder-

SPLCH!

Anya broke down laughing and holding her sides as the pie landed squarely in Swansea's face and he stood statue-still, as if trying to comprehend why this was happening right now; it didn't help his psyche that Curly was cackling not-so-silently behind him. Hawkes snickered and grinned as he watched the wholesome event; his mood ruined as he noticed someone moving diagonally behind him.

"Does it please the Icon to dress those broken souls like dolls for a pageant?"

"You will die."

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(Music: "Nine Seconds", by Marcelo Zarvos)

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Hawkes had uttered the threat subconsciously before his mind fully comprehended the aimed insult, immediately swiveling on one foot and clenching his massive hand around the jaw of the walking detritus that would throw away their life so carelessly- and finding it to be the Hannou diplomat, huffing in panic and trying to pull Hawkes' fingers off of her jaw. He immediately released her, much to her scathing outrage.

"I have something to show you."

"Fuck no!"

"I assure you not a finger will be laid on you while you come and see this curiosity."

"I said no!"

Hawkes grabbed the Hannou's arm, dragging her roughly towards a remote area, and with several attendees from the entourage of President Weiss watching his interactions with wariness; the death of a Hannou diplomat, for them, would be perfect to incite outrage in their allies and prospective future allies and thus mobilize more people towards their cause. It was cruel, but President Weiss and her allies considered there to be necessary sacrifices as it always remained throughout history. To their benefit, nobody at the Villae, domestic or foreign, gave a shit about what happened to a diplomat from Hannou other than the Hannou.

As soon as they were away from the noise, Hawkes shoved the diplomat against the wall and hissed a scathing and horrible threat at her.

"If you refuse one more time. I will drag you into an isolated room, dismember you right on the spot, and send a piece of your misshapen, twitching chunks of flesh to your 67-year-old mother Denila, your five-year-old son Brenner, your alcoholic father Nahdo, and to every fucking planet that feels the need to endorse you and your waste-filled, overgrown asteroid of genocidal neanderthals. You little bitch-cunt."

The diplomat was left speechless and in a state of suddenly perpetual, death-peering terror once she realized how she'd gotten set up by President Weiss.

He won't be pulling anything at the Magna Victoria. His loyalty to the Atriarchs will keep him on a leash. An event where ambassadors from hundreds of nations will be mingling? Of course not.

They lied. And as the Hannou diplomat, Tanya Claunecky, was rapidly coming to this epiphany, she began to sob and simultaneously cackle in preparation of a violent death. Hawkes noticed this sudden breakdown in psyche and backed away, taking a long moment to chuckle and bask in the misery of this ignorant indigent. Hawkes was a very stark 'guilty beyond a reasonable doubt' law-abider when it came to the Canaris Justice System; as it was incredibly well thought-out and refined on a strong foundation of redemption and rehabilitation.

But with thirty years on his belt, he could say without a single doubt in his mind, that he had not met a single Hannou individual -not one- who wasn't senselessly filled with that iconic generational hatred against Canaris. It was not as if Hawkes faulted that hatred; his own nation was indeed responsible for atrocities equivalent to what the Hannou was doing in the current era, and carried that same blind hatred against the Hannou. It simply boiled down to one crucial conclusion in Hawkes' brain.

If it's them or us, kill them first.

"I have a point to make, that you can send home to the family."

Hawkes grabbed the diplomat by the arm, dragging her flailing body out of the Villae and towards a transport pod, shoving her in and navigating it towards the Argonaut. Once boarded, he continued to drag her screaming figure through remote hallways, coming upon the interrogation chamber where two officers stood on standby.

"HEEELPPP MEEEE!! AAAAAHHH!!!! HE'S GONNA KILL MEEEEEE!!!!" Tanya screamed in desperation. The guards eyed her for a moment, then glanced back up at Hawkes, before using their IDs to open the door. Hawkes nodded and simply dragged her in, dropping her on the ground and watching as she crawled away from him in terrific horror.

"D-DON'T KILL ME! DON'T KILL ME! DON'T KILL ME!"

"I'm not gonna kill you. Tonight. Take a look around."

Quivering but curious, she eyed her surroundings and immediately felt another spiked layer of dread claw into her skin and mind as she noticed the blood-dried room she had found herself helplessly locked into-

"O-Oh, oh my god, oh my god, oh no, no no-"

Her vision spiked with adrenaline and piling hysteria. She immediately screamed in terror and abject horror as the blood-spattered, gore-filled room came into full comprehension, followed immediately by a mass of huddled Hannou in the corner, fully healed yet traumatized beyond reason and clutching to one another with wild, frenzied eyes in perpetual horror.

"Wh... Wh..."

Hawkes squatted next to Tanya, pressing the side of his face against hers and staring holes through the grouped Hannou.

"Is this what is felt like? Is this what it felt like, as a young Canari woman, to see her comrades, her family, her countrymen and women under the capture of Hannou buccaneers? I can feel the cold sweat come on, the shivering, the frost underneath your skin as your blood rushes to your vital organs. You're positively terrified. So that's what my Canari felt like, still feel like I bet, right as we're speaking."

WHOOSH!

Breaking the glass-tense atmosphere like a bull, he shoved Tanya's screaming face to the ground, then palmed her skull and forced her to gaze viscerally at her traumatized cohorts, before hissing the most bone-chilling tales of woven terror directly into her mind.

"All of you, barring your naive offspring, are scum of the earth. You were born scum, you chose to live like scum, and soon you will die scum. Ally with whomever the holy fuck you want, it won't make a bit of difference in the grand scheme. I would bet every part of my ship that not a single one of those planets, not one, would seriously consider war against us to protect the third-world, resource-worthless, pirate-infested, Ad & Thamud-esque hell pits you spawned from. They wouldn't come to their allies' aid in times of war in the past, plenty of times I've seen it happen; wanna bet? No, I just saw you shake your head, 'no'. Do you want to bet, that I could not outmatch you in lived experiences? No? Stop fucking shaking your head or I'll TWIST IT OFF! Do you think your faultless 'allies' would lay down their lives for these quasi-moral holier-than-thou proclamations? It is empty. Words. You will go home tonight, and all you will see is this room, the looks on the faces of your compatriots. And you will know, that is the fate of your entire planet. Your children will be taken and inducted into Canaris culture, never to suffer the same ignoble fate as their predecessors. And nobody is going to do a single. Damned. Thing to help you. Enjoy your night."

With utter loathing in his voice, he pulled her out of the chamber, opening the door, walking all the way back to the transport pod, throwing her in, navigating it back to the Villae, opening it up, throwing her out, dragging her to the original spot and lightly releasing her arm as she stumbled to the ground, sobbing helplessly and near-catatonically. Hawkes had made his point, simply walking past her as if she did not exist and blending back in with the rest of the gala.

-------------------------------------------------------------

(Music: "Undertow", by Moonlight Echoes)

-------------------------------------------------------------

Clink! Clink! Clink!

Those in the room suddenly turned their heads as the Matriarch tapped her glass, gathering the attention of all those present whether by sound or mere imposition.

"Good late evening, friend and foe."

The chamber chuckled lightly at the prodding joke.

"It is nearing the end of the Magna Victoria; as I have it now, it is approximately 3:09 AM Central Standard Time, and we mustn't turn this into an all-night celebration. As such, we will conclude the night and give thanks to God, with a speech from the venerable Admiral Hawkes as we enjoy our last drinks!"

The crowd broke out into a raucous cheer as Hawkes smiled awkwardly, standing next to Lilia and Erikad. Tentatively, he left their sides quickly before all the attention turned to him and proceeded to the terraced steps leading up to the Atriarchs' Villae thrones. The applause was deafening; hundreds of attendees filled with a wild, lifelong passion for the planet-defining hero who'd overcome the impossible and garnered both the respect and love of his people.

He came upon the steps and turned around, standing in front of but not above the Atriarchs as a sign of respect and tradition. He gazed around the room, seeing just how many horrible deeds were compiled into one chamber. I'm... supposed to give thanks to God... in front of all these villains? Me, the worst villain?

Only half an hour ago, he had traumatized the ever-living hell out of a Hannou diplomat, threatened an Olima diplomat, and almost snapped the neck of a mob boss offering Daisuke his holopad identifier for 'any future favors'. He didn't feel particularly holy at the moment to deliver an emotional and loving speech about virtue and victory.

"Thank you for gathering here, uh, today." Hawkes began, unsure of how he could make this speech without committing blasphemy by blatantly lying; he had absolutely nothing positive to say about most people in this room- and those he did would be targeted and envied by others in this massive crowd of well-connected individuals. "It was, uh... a hard journey for sure. Finding the damn freighter was tough enough, but getting back here felt like a Herculean ordeal."

The crowd burst into laughter, entranced by the natural charisma of Hawkes, even when he himself had absolutely no confidence in his speech and was basically just winging it.

"I'm thankful to all of you, for, well, taking care of my home while I was away. I don't often get a lot of time nowadays to see you all, from the big birds to the little chicks. And I want more time to do that, I..."

-------------------------------------------------------------

(Music: "Te Quise Amar", by Jurrivh)

--------------------------------------------------------------

His eyes drifted across Curly, Anya, Swansea, Daisuke and Lilia, all standing together and gazing proudly at him; their eyes free of the tainted greed, lust, gluttony, pride and envy surrounding the faces of those beside them. Hawkes felt a swell of happiness as he instinctively felt the next words flow out of his mouth.

"And above everything else... I'm thankful to God for giving me what I could never accomplish before His gift to us; the gift of getting a second chance at life- a real second chance, when everything else in the universe has given up on us. I thank God that I was able to save those four beautiful souls, I'm thankful to my crew for perserving all these months for this selfless cause. I'm thankful to the Atriarchs for their benevolent extension of help to assist in finding and rescuing the Tulpar crew. I'm thankful to all of you who donated money, resources, time, energy, blood-sweat-tears to this daunting ordeal. And I'm thankfuly that we are all standing here today, only having accomplished this because we banded together, as humans, to demonstrate what makes us sentient, intelligent, and made in the image of God- our empathy for our fellow living beings, no matter the time, place, or setting."

The crowd burst out into tears, cheers and wild applause, swayed heavily by the genuine tone and authentic demeanor of Admiral Hawkes as he spoke elegantly. The Atriarchs, standing behind him, were digging their nails into their palms and gritting their teeth to resist the urge to overpower him and drag him into their chambers for obscene bawdiness.

Hawkes bowed humbly once, before exiting stage right and avoiding the Tulpar crew so as avoid bringing attention to them as much as possible. He did not want fanatics at their door every day sending love letters, fan mail and questionable contents and freaking them out from wanting to enjoy their life here. He'd probably track down the offenders and brutalize them straight to prison.

We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, Hawkes thought, realizing he was socially exhausted and wanted to recharge with his family for a bit. He decided to radio in Lilia to meet up with his family at their Helixad, so they could head back to their temporary home in the palace and rest for the night.

Hawkes sighed, troubled by the night's business but content with how it turned out ultimately-

"ADMIRAL! ADMIRAL!!!"

Hawkes was momentarily bewildered as one of the servants came up to him waving frantically to get his attention.

"What?? What is it?"

"A-Admiral, sir! You need to come back to the Villae immediately! There's an emergency!"

-------------------------------------------------------------

(Music: "Prelude", by Marcelo Zarvos)

--------------------------------------------------------------

Swathes of nobles poured back into the Villae, chittering and muttering in fear to one another as news came over their holopads with flashing alerts and rapidly unfolding coverage of the report. Hawkes rushed back into the palace, radioing in Lilia.

"Lily, get them onto the transport pods and onto the Argonaut!"

"Wh- you don't want them heading back to the palace??"

"From the headlines I'm getting on my holopad, I trust myself to protect them on my ship more than any of these people right now!"

He rushed into the primary chamber where the Atriarchs were seated in a more serious, somber tone, the Matriarch combing through dozens of news reports on an enlarged holo-display while the Patriarch was issuing orders to nearby Canarii and fleets in orbit over his radio.

While Hawkes waited for the panic to die down, Hawkes pulled up one of the news reports on his holopad and read through it. "Good God..."

"Our electromagnetic long-range receivers have alerted the GAPC of two distinct biological masses moving at a steady pace; as you can see from the, uh, graphic pulled up here, the first one, the eastmost one I'm pointing at, is moving down along the Scutum-Centaurus Arm at FTL speeds, and has a predicted trajectory which places it on a path of collision with the Inferis Robotics Research Station in the Northern Quadrant... The, uh, second biological mass is far larger, around four times the size of the first, and, uh... my God... uh, it seems to be moving on a steady axis past the Outer Arm, through the Perseus Arm, and is currently passing through the Sagittarius Arm, on a trajectory for collision with Canaris Sector. The, uh, Galactic Commission of Xenos Research & Development has concluded these are remnant swarms of the Lunapredator Magnus that wreaked havoc on Nova Terra in June of 2121, and has advised residents of these sectors to evacuate or 'fight with your all', I'm being told."

"Fuck... FUCK!" Hawkes muttered, trying to deliberate what the next best action would be. Would it be better to leave his family on Canaris under the protection of this Fortress World and its hundreds of billions of trained warriors? They would be fighting a swarm four times the size of the one that would be going after the Inferis Station. If he brought them with him, along with a considerable fleet of Canaris warships to annihilate the swarm, he could rescue the Inferis Station, get back in time and assist Canaris in the onslaught against the bigger swarm.

Alright, that's the game plan.

Wasting no further time, he went up to the Atriarchs and communicated his plan to them. The both of them nodded after some deliberation.

"I believe that is the best course of action," The Matriarch resolved. "The Inferis Station possesses a prototype machine that was designed specifically to target and eliminate Gaiters. The technology for it was so advanced that it was lost during the Terror's reign, but if you can get onboard, we can give you a master override key our programmers designed for a contingency scenario like this."

Hawkes nodded with a grim expression, reverting to a state of complete, cold and calculating focus- both his homeworld and his family were on the line, and nothing would distract him from executing this mission to its fitting end. "I understand. How many warships and auxiliary support vessels can you lend me?"

"Without detracting significantly from our own defenses against the swarm, I can offer you two Ares-class Dreadnoughts, six Lugh-class Battle Cruisers, twenty Heavy Cruisers, fourteen Destroyers, and eighty-seven Fast-Attack Ships."

Hawkes nodded once more.

"That should be good enough."

The Atriarchs bowed their heads in deep respect and longing.

"I am truly furious we did not have more time to spend together," The Matriarch remarked despondently. "Please, avoid harm and defeat your foe decisively, and when you return we shall give you six months of reprieve from duty."

"I don't know if I want that much time off, but I'm all for rest after this bullshit comes to an end."

With that, he bowed one last time in respect and departed for the transport pod, placing the pieces of his plan together mentally as he did so. In the distance, a shivering and fury-driven Tanya had eavesdropped on the conversation and grinned maliciously; a terrible plan concocting in her head.

"Just you wait, you monstrous devil-bastard. Your righteous ego will be your undoing. Hannou will rise up and crush you into dust."

#mouthwashing #oc #curly mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #original character #anya mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #writing #nurse anya #scifi #cosmic #stars #outer space #celestial #read more

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