#and even if its not super hard or violent its still like a normal reaction kids have | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cdroloisms · 3 years

Note

do you have any,,,post prison mute dream stuff??? or like, severely quiet, silent and obedient dream shtuff?? and the consequences thereof??? bc im reading your drabbles and i am in literal awe

aww, thank you so much !! yeah selectively mute dream post prison is absolutely a hc i love and write smtimes - it’s already been suggested in canon, and it’s super fun to play w/ in post-canon works. here’s some fluffy syndicate!dream bc gosh knows we need it after the angst that we’ve been getting

tw: implied torture, panic attacks, trauma - all v short mentions. this one’s definitely on the lighter side! :D

“I didn’t know you knew sign.”

Dream startles, arms flying to cover his face, and the crow he had been signing at squawks angrily when it turns towards Phil. He ignores its chatter, smoothing his own flinch behind a smile, lowering his wings, bringing his hands, palms up, in front of him at his waist - this song and dance has become all too familiar in the weeks that Dream’s resided with the Syndicate, and Phil is nothing if not patient.

Slowly, the boy uncurls from where he’d huddled into himself, arms clasped firmly around his ribs like someone will try and take them from him if he doesn’t hold on tight enough (and maybe, Phil thinks, imagining the messy lattice of scars underneath Dream’s loose-fitting hoodie that he has only seen a few times since they brought him over, someone has - but those are thoughts that are better left untouched for as long as he can manage it.) Dream’s eyes raise, flick over his face, his breathing quieting down from the discordant rattle it had been, and tentatively, ever slowly, he raises his good hand in a loose fist, letting it bob up and down. Yes.

Phil settles into the armchair across from him, raising his own hands. His fingers feel clumsy, but the memories come back with more ease than he would’ve expected - I know a little. Dream’s eyes don’t quite brighten, but his shoulders fall down from where they’d been hunched up to his ears, the hand he keeps tucked to his chest trembling slightly less, and it’s as much as a win as he’s ever going to get.

The silence stretches, familiar in its awkwardness, and Phil stifles a grimace as he forces long-forgotten memories to the surface. Dream’s hands, from what little he had seen from the doorway, had practically flown as he spoke to the crow still sitting by his right side - obviously practiced even with the still-healing injuries tracing over both arms. How did you learn?

We- He hesitates, left hand trembling violently, before pushing on, we all learned with- he signs a C, then lifts his hands to his head in a sign that Phil vaguely remembers as being the one for deer. Dream must see the questions written in his expression, because his cheeks flush as he backtracks. C-A-L-L-A-H-A-N, he finger spells, and Phil nods. That makes sense.

Some of the crows in the house must have noticed Phil’s arrival, because they storm into the room from the doorway, awkwardly hopping across the door with their wings waving by their sides as they eagerly voice their displeasure at the lack of attention. He’s not in the mood to pick out the words between their angry caws, so he simply watches as they scatter all over the room. Something almost like a smile tugs at Dream’s face as he watches them enter - the kid has grown inexplicably fond of both his flock and all of the assorted animals that Techno drags back into the house whenever he goes out, and Phil has long since resigned himself to being outnumbered one hundred to one by a literal army of mobs wherever he goes. Some of the crows had been pretty wary of Dream at the beginning, but after a few weeks more or less the entire flock has become viciously protective of the kid, sufficiently won over by gifts of head scratches and berries and various shiny things. Sure enough, the birds form a dark, squawking circle at Dream’s feet, a few flying up to tug impatiently at his clothes, and despite the (very obvious) favoritism, Phil smiles; the flock is good for Dream, as annoying as they can be.

DADZA, one calls, its lone cry soon echoed by the entire group of fluttering feathers gathered on the floor, DADZA AND DREAM DADZA DADZA. Phil laughs, a familiar warmth and exasperation filling his lungs, and he turns his attention back to Dream.

You up to some more? He tries; it’s a chance, for sure, and he brushes away the creeping anxiety crawling up his neck; he doesn’t want to make Dream panic, hopes that he’s doing the right thing. I could always use the practice.

Quiet, once again, only broken by the murmurs of his birds eagerly awaiting Dream’s answer as the boy rocks side to side in deliberation, and Phil is halfway through working out a frantic you don’t have to if you don’t want to when Dream raises his own hands.

Sure, he signs, a forced smile on his face but eyes still clear and bright, why not?

Somehow, they end up in a bastardized version of twenty questions, surrounded by birds that do not hesitate at any chance to voice their own opinions. They work through favorite colors (green), favorite flowers (roses for Dream, peonies for Phil), favorite mob (Phil answers this with a pointed definitely-not-crows, staring at the flock who have been shouting over themselves naming different colors for about five minutes, which immediately makes them devolve into screaming caws and divebombs at the edges of Phil’s cape that leave him thoroughly occupied for the next ten minutes), and at some point Phil falls further into the cushions of his chair and Dream’s legs lay against the sofa instead of being drawn up to his chest and it’s almost normal.

By the time Techno finds them, they’ve forgone structure all together, Dream watching intently as Phil signs out an embellished tale of one of the Antarctic Empire’s exploits with a crow held gently in his hands. Techno’s voice behind him startles him bad enough to send his wings snapping outwards, feathers standing on end, but Dream doesn’t react much beyond a twitch of his lips - he must’ve seen the piglin hybrid and tag-teamed to prank him, Phil realizes with a half-hearted grumble. Techno’s eyes sparkle mischievously, definitely planned, then.

“Hi Phil, Dream,” Techno shrugs off his cloak and drapes it over the back of Phil’s chair, “Looks like you’ve been busy. Can’t say I’m not feelin’ a bit left out, though; Phil, you never told me you knew sign language.”

“You never asked, mate,” he quips, even as Dream signs animatedly from the corner of his eye. T-E-C-H-N-O-L-O-S-T.

Techno narrows his eyes. “I get the feelin’ that you’re messin’ with me, nerd.” Dream blinks faux innocently, smiling wider, and Phil picks up on the bit. Oh, this is fun.

He can’t understand us, he assures Dream, feeling a wicked smirk of his own growing on his face. So what do you think for dinner?

“Phil- the betrayal!” Techno splutters, voice going high and pitchy, and that reaction alone would’ve made the prank more than worth it - but Dream’s shoulders shake, eyes glittering as his fingers fly almost too fast for Phil to catch, and oh, that’s laughter, tiny, breathless giggles falling from his lips, and Techno must catch it even as he begins to berate the voices in his head, “This is not a bruh moment, Chat, don’t you start-”

Stew? Dream signs, still snickering, and he looks happy, more than Phil has ever seen him, the sight of him smiling and bright-eyed with amusement almost enough to cover for the gaunt quality of his face, the pale scars left all over his skin.

Of course, mate, Phil signs back, throwing in a do you think T-E-C-H-N-O ended up lost in those same woods again for good measure, rewarded when it sends Dream into another round of giggles. Techno grumbles without any real heat behind it, plopping himself down in the remaining chair.

“Ok, nah, no more of this exclusive club; you guys are teachin’ me this tonight before Chat loses it - yes that was an insult, don’t you start it with the E’s,” and Phil laughs, hard, the flock cawing and beginning to spam E on their own, for some reason, and Dream signing through the alphabet with the biggest grin on his face, and-

“Oh, Prime, this is going to so scuffed,” Phil says, breathless, his warning unheeded as Techno finishes his rant at Chat to focus on Dream.

And it is scuffed - it is so fucking scuffed, between Phil’s lackluster memory and Techno’s frequent interrupting to quiet down an extremely rowdy Chat and the incessant calls of the flock further egging them on, but it’s warm and Dream doesn’t stop smiling and Techno looks more relaxed than he has in weeks and the helpless, singing urge of protect protect protect that has lived in Phil’s head ever since Techno had carried Dream, beaten and bloodied and broken, through their front door finally, finally, begins to quiet down.

He tunes back into the impromptu lesson - they’ve finished the alphabet, seemingly having moved onto common words and objects, and Dream- hesitates, raises his hand, all five fingers drawn together, to the corner of his mouth and then pulls it back. Home, he signs, moving to fingerspelling, H-O-M-E. Home.

For a moment, they’re all quiet, Dream’s hand still raised by his face, even the crows falling silent as they all stare at each other. Phil watches, breath caught in his throat, as the planes of Techno’s face soften, the teasing edge of his voice, for once, leaving. “Yeah, nerd. You’re home.”

Home, Dream signs again, then again, looking up, eyes bright, hopeful. Phil thinks, proudly, that it looks like a new beginning. I’m home.

#tw torture #tw trauma #tw panic attack #syndicate!dream #my beloved #queue <3 #q stream aftermath #long post #my writing :D #my asks !!

431 notes · View notes

orionshounds · 3 years

Text

I’ve been knee deep in dsmp lore streams and I just want to ramble about it

Dream smp lore is so good, it’s so good!!! Not only is the story itself just fascinating, but how it’s presented so uniquely through the medium of minecraft of all things is just so cool. One of my favorite parts of the lore is seeing how everyone on the smp has their own “style” they present it in, and watching them find the way they find the most enjoyment in is so cool. Literally no two streamer’s lore stream quite like each others and it’s just incredible! It just speaks to the flexibility of roleplay as an artistic medium and really shows everyone’s individual personalities.

Wilbur was dramatic as hell and wrote eloquent speeches. He started a drug operation under the guise as a country, and it lead to a revolution in which he was able to explore the spiral of a man who loses control of everything he had built. And after his arc and he wanted a break from the server? He created ghostbur, an amnesic comic relief with just enough touch of tragedy that he is still able to make heartbreaking monologues when he wants to.

Tommy is able to run around with his friends and cause as much chaos to his heart’s extent, but there is so much more than meets the eye. He is incredibly social and isn’t afraid to start conflict with a lot of people, bringing them into the roleplay. He doesn’t back down from storytelling either. His character goes through terrible situations and he fully explores the trauma that comes from those experiences. His character goes against the “stereotypical” trauma I see alot in media; instead of being shy or scared he’s reactionary, he’s angry, he’s violent, he’s depressed. I’m actually really impressed with the heavy subject matter this 17 year old teen has managed to portray (I’ve connected with it quite personally at certain points), while still being able to keep the light hearted fun that’s so intrinsic to his personality.

Tubbo isn’t really interested in serious lore as much. Even in dire moments he tells jokes and just has fun. So, in his recent lore, he just streams as normal while putting mysterious writing on screen that he doesn’t acknowledge or have to explain, which I think is just a genius work around for him to participate in lore. He still has his dedicated lore streams sometimes, and when he is in the acting zone he has some of the most powerful moments out of everyone on the server.

Ranboo, while having stake in the greater smp lore, is much more character focused. He presents his lore through long monologues and fucking heart-wrenching voice acting. He loves working in themes of horror and causing a specific feeling in the viewer. So he chooses specific music as a themes for events/characters and creates visual queues in his overlays to draw out that desired reaction. He also values improve a LOT, if something unexpected comes up he just runs with it and he has made huge changes to his lore as early as 30 min before a stream.

Technoblade, while arguably one of the most powerful people on the server, prefers a more light-hearted yet dramatic approach to lore. When Dream was at his house looking for Tommy, Techno had no problem joking around and making fun of him for being homeless. He tore down an entire nation on the server and had so much fun doing it! He’s more of an antagonist than a true villain in my opinion. And lets not forget how dedicated he is to the game, he’s cracked at the craft. He spends hours grinding and creating farms on the smp, for amazing pay offs (his several vault reveals, the withers, etc), most of which weren’t even on stream!

Karl Jacobs is extremely social, so he created Tales from the smp as a way to involve TONS of people in lore while exploring the past and future of the server (it was also a way for viewers who weren’t that well versed in dsmp lore to join and not have to worry about it!). And through this premise, he took the opportunity to develop his own character on the smp; making an incredibly tragic story of a time traveler trying to save his home while slowly loosing his memories. Not to mention the beautifully shot cutscenes of the Inbetween and the Other Side. He includes so many people behind the scenes as well, collabing with other members on lore, hiring building teams and people to make intros and credit scenes, and promoting fanart and fansongs from the community!

Quackity explores his lore through heavily scripted events and amazingly shot cut scenes. While the way he expresses his lore comes at the cost of improv, the payoff of the visuals and story is well worth it! The shots he makes of the smp is downright gorgeous, no to mention he’s the first person to include irl footage in his lore (not counting facecams)! He’s not afraid of thoroughly examining his own character, being one of the only people I can think of that shows us “past events” leading up to something that has already happened.

Badboyhalo, Antfrost, Ponk, Skeppy, Captain Puffy, Punz, Awesamdude, Hannahxxrose all work together on shared lore and the payoff is amazing! By introducing the Egg, a constant antagonistic force that constantly pulls on character’s relationships with each other, everyone is able to stream together to battle for or against the egg! There’s also plenty of room for people to do individual lore that's more intimate to their respective character. They spend hours changing vines, putting up posters, slowly shaping the smp in a way that makes it exciting to watch streams to see just what has changed everyday. Because there’s so many people necessary to tell the egg’s story, it does comes at the cost of time (the egg has been around FOREVER). However, they all work together super hard and I just admire their commitment to the story they’re trying to tell!

And Sam! He has several different “Modes” his character is in (and an entirely separate character, Sam Nook) that he gets to explore lore with. He’s a terrifying warden, he’s a money motivated businessman, he’s a conflicted lover, he’s a traumatized victim of the egg, and just so much more. Through having so many different “roles” in the rp he gets to explore relationships and plotlines with a whole array of people. Not to mention he’s absolutely cracked at redstone and has some of the most impressive builds on the server.

And Puffy! So much of her lore is calling into question the morality of the server and really makes you step back and think critically about the characters. Her character also has, in my opinion, one of the most interesting relationships with Dream, the main antagonist of the entire server, which is just fascinating to watch unfold. Not to mention she’s one of the first people to start exploring the backstory of her character!

George doesn’t exactly do lore. In fact he’s slept through so much of it it’s become a meme. And you know what? That mad man took that and ran with it. He explains his absence in the story by having his character literally being asleep through it, creating mystery where there used to just be an absence. He’s able to goof off with his friends and have borderline nonsensical streams, then at the end sucker punch the audience emotionally by “waking up” and have the viewers question just what was real and what wasn’t?

The smp has the freedom for people who want more independent lore to be able to explore their character’s that way as well!

Hbomb, Connereatspants, and Purpled don’t have a lot of lore on the smp, generally only coming on to have fun with everyone, but when they do have their moments it unfolds in very interesting ways!

Sapnap, Eret, and Schlatt maybe aren’t as active as some other people, but when they are on they actively participate in lore and have lasting impacts on the story (Ex: Eret’s betrayal, Sapnap’s visit to dream in the prison, Schlatt becoming president).

Philza mostly does his own thing, improving the server or making some bomb ass builds. He has incredibly devastating roles in lore (killing wilbur, blowing up L’manberg for the final time, starting the syndicate with Techno), but he also has quieter moments that speak to the depth his character has, such as fishing with fundy or reminiscing about his dead son and how it went so wrong. Like Techno, he doesn’t like to take lore completely seriously, often laughing no matter what’s happening or teasing chat after something big goes down, but his character is solid with a lot of potential for future lore.

Foolish has only started on his character and its already super interesting. The hints at his dark past as a “god of death” and his current conflict with the egg are intriguing as fuck. Not to mention the MASSIVE builds he does for everyone, helping to progress their lore as well.

Fundy has a lot of freedom with his character to participate however much he wants in lore. While generally he’s a trickster who loves to prank people he has enough tragedy build into his backstory he’s able to break the viewer’s heart with a flip of a switch. Not to mention his recent, almost surreal, stream that explored his character’s disturbing dreams that may or may not predict the future.

Niki is very character driven, exploring her character's grief of losing her best friend and her anger of being ignored in the very country she helped create. She has incredibly emotional moments, and even though she’s on her own building an underground city she still participates in other lore via teaming with jack manifold or the syndicate.

Jack Manifold’s lore is VERY character focused, and while he’s described his story as a “B plot that occasionally intersects with the main plot”, the story he tells is still fascinating. Being pushed aside not taken seriously his whole life, his character develops into a fun cartoony-esque villain who begs to be taken seriously, that has the depth of a truly conflicted person who is torn between wanting revenge on everyone who’s done him wrong and just wanting a friend.

Last but not least, the man himself, Dream. The most fascinating thing about his lore is that absolutely none of it is from his pov. All we know about his character is only from what we see from everyone else’s povs, and in his case it leads to a very intimidating villain! Not to mention, mans owns the damn server and yet has made himself the main antagonist! He is the only character I consider a “true villain” on the smp. His voice acting and writing is downright sinister. I could write a fucking essay on how his character’s obsession with power has led him to the point he thinks himself an unstoppable god

Everyone on this server is stunning and I love all of them!!!!!

168 notes · View notes

brokenbeskar · 3 years

Text

Denial

Chapter One of Memories Reforged ( Din Djarin x F!Reader )

Word Count: 8.2k

Summary: After crash landing on the planet of your next job, you learn another mysterious mandalorian bounty hunter is working the same contract as you and you decide to investigate.

Warnings: descriptions of blood and death, canon level violence, grief, there's a nightmare sequence but nothing crazy!

A/N: I’m super nervous to start posting this, but I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know if you find any mistakes or have any criticisms/advice! Theres a lot of mystery surrounding you for the first couple chapters, but I promise they will be explained soon enough!

Everything around you is happening so rapidly, in flashes. Red, surrounding you, clouding everything around you...

It’s blood. Blood--blood on your hands, you realize. Blood on the ground around you, on you--on everything. Your vision is so blurry you can barely make out the shapes around you. You’re sobbing, your chest aches, burning, smoke and ash in your lungs, you try to cry out but barely any sound comes through. A rushing in your ears so loud you can barely hear.

You're desperately applying pressure beneath you, but the bleeding won’t stop. You beg and plead to the maker, the universe, whatever could possibly hear you, whatever could possibly help you, you're so desperate. you’re trembling, shaking so hard you can’t keep steady despite trying so hard to keep the pressure on the gushing wound beneath you...

Another flash, you can’t see anything anymore, everything is too blurry, but you feel something brush up to your cheek, you lean into it. It’s comforting, but the burning in your chest only gets worse, your sobbing doesn't stop. The brush on your cheek is so tender, so precious, but so painful. So bittersweet...

More red, another flash, and now a sound, cutting through the white noise that fills your ears--a steady beeping. Through your clouded vision you can barely make out the light flashing on the bomb that's been set to detonate in his hand. You press your forehead to something cold, and you squeeze your eyes shut, blackness engulfing your vision, only the faint blinking of the light shining through your eyelids...

Suddenly, everything is crystal clear. The feeling of his hand tangled in your hair, pulling you tighter against the cool metal of his helmet, the warmth of the blood gushing out of the wound you are still so desperately applying pressure to, and when you open your burning, sobbing eyes, the crystal clear reflection of the bomb blinking in the corner of his visor. The light growing brighter, and the beeping growing faster, louder, and louder---so LOUD-- You shoot up with a sharp gasp in your seat, absolute panic still consuming you, the beeping from the bomb still going off rapidly--no...you realize suddenly. The beeping from the cockpit of your ship, you're dropping out of hyperspace.

You’re shivering, covered in a cold sweat, things slowly starting to come back to you. It was another nightmare. You must have fallen asleep while you were still in hyperspace. You glance over to the helmet in the copilot seat next to you, the familiar visor staring at you, hollow. The stars reflecting off the tint of it, and the beat up, once glossy copper accents framing it. You try to get your breathing under control while you shakily take hold of the ship's controls, flicking off the alarm and getting ready to break through the atmosphere of the planet thats suddenly in front of you.

This is going to be rough. This ship, if you can even call it that, is a piece of shit. It’s barely holding together, you were shocked it was even able to make the jump into hyperspace in the first place. It's trembling dramatically under you, as you try to hold her steady while you descend.

“Talk about a bumpy ride,” you barely mutter to yourself through gritted teeth as you struggle against the violent rattling of the hunk of metal surrounding you, suddenly very thankful you were already buckled in. Suddenly the whole ship lurches violently despite your firm hold on the controls as you break into the atmosphere, and alarms start blaring deafeningly throughout the cockpit, the ship is barely holding together at this point. You clench your jaw tight, this is going to be a rough landing. Another violent jerk of the ship and you feel something big break off. You can’t even begin to think about what it is though, because you are quickly losing control entirely. You are descending much too fast, and there's nothing you can do about it. Alarms blaring in your ears as you try to make this the softest crash landing possible. The sandy surface of this planet is coming quick, until it's all you can see. You violently collide with the ground, you can't see anything, sand shoots up all around the ship blinding you. You had tried to hit a good angle coming down, but your ship slides through the sand, bounces back up, and rolls twice. You get roughly knocked around in your seat and you wack your head pretty hard on the dashboard in the collision, you black out.

You groan, slowly coming to, clutching the sore spot on the side of your head while you try to collect yourself. Maker, it HURTS, you can feel the pulsing behind your eyes and you’re seeing stars, your vision blurry from the impact. You shakily undo your seatbelt, and try to lift from your seat, hand still clutching the side of your head. Everything on you hurts, you know you’re going to be covered head to toe in bruises despite being buckled in the whole time. You tap the nav console in the center of the dashboard, but nothing, unresponsive. The whole ship has gone completely dead. No more flashing lights and blaring alarms. Just the slight groaning of the metal struggling to stay together after the crash.

“Well fuck…” you sigh out, but then the dread and anger hit you all at once. A pit pooling in your stomach and rising up tight in your chest like an inferno, You had scrounged together every last credit you had for this piece of shit, and now it's absolutely trashed. It would cost you more than its worth in repairs, if it can even be repaired. You would bet all your remaining credits it was far beyond saving. You violently slam your fist down into the control panel, cursing loudly into the cockpit. You needed this ship, badly. How were you supposed to collect bounties without it? How could you afford a new one? You bang your fist into the control panel again, then slump down defeatedly back into the pilot's seat, resting your elbows on the edge of the control panel and leaning forward to burying your head in your hands.

You take a deep breath in and run one of your hands through the hair framing your face as you lean back in the seat and let the same breath out. You turn your head slightly to look over to the copilot's seat, but you shoot back up to your feet when you find the seat is empty. Your heart is racing again. Where is it? Where did it go? You frantically scan the floor of the cockpit, desperately looking for even the smallest glimpse of it. When you finally catch sight of the familiar hunk of metal in the far corner, you rush over and drop to your knees next to it. You carefully pick up the heavy beskar helmet and rotate it so the familiar T of the visor is staring empty at you. You breath out heavily as you press your forehead to it, clutching it so tightly in your hands. You pull away to inspect for any damage--well any new damage at least. The helmet was in bad shape. It had a couple dents and gashes in it, the paint that once coated it so beautifully now chipped and worn, the small crack in the corner of the visor catching the light. You sigh at it, realizing you probably wouldn't even be able to tell what's new and what's not at this point.

“Well,” you breath out to the helmet as if it could hear you, “no point in wallowing, right?” You stand from where you were kneeling on the floor, tucking the helmet under your arm. “We’ve got a bounty to catch.” And with that you step into the hull of the ship, trying your best to ignore the mess caused from the crash, all of your belongings thrown about and scattered unceremoniously throughout it. You find your go bag and sling it over your shoulder. Then head to the exit ramp to leave, but pausing before you step out into the sandy environment to slowly slide the helmet from under your arm, over your head, with a click.

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

You hate desert planets. You're burning up under your bulky beskar. It barely fits you, so you have to bulk up under it to make sure it stays on properly. It doesn't look as awkward as it feels, and no one can tell how much you're sweating under the helmet, but maker, you’re miserable. With every step you can feel the soreness lingering from the crash earlier. It was quite a walk to the nearest settlement. You’re in some kind of marketplace. It’s bustling and busy, vendors lining the sand covered streets selling all kinds of wares, a lot of it junk.

You’re in a terrible mood. Between crash landing your one and only ship, the heat of this planet baking you alive under your armor, and the sand that you can feel working its way uncomfortably into your boots, you’re seething with anger. You swear it would only take one local giving you the wrong look for you to snap and break their neck with your bare hands alone. You bet it shows in the way your walking, you're used to people staring at this point, it comes with wearing beskar, but the way people are quickly stumbling to get out of your way as you angrily stride through the streets, crowds parting for you so you can pass, you know you probably seem more intimidating than usual.

Stepping into the nearby cantina, is instant relief. It’s much cooler in here, but you try not to relax too much and lose that power in your stance as you enter. Something feels off, when you notice the reactions in the bar. The stares and hushed whispering were normal to you, but something about it was different this time. Maybe the heat was getting to your head. You stride over to the bar and silently take a seat. The patron in the seat next to yours, quickly gets up to move away from you, and you don’t even bother to look in his direction.

The bartender in front of you, polishing glasses speaks before you get the chance, “Let me guess, you want information on the bomber.” You tilt your visor up to him a bit surprised. How did he know? “You’re friend already came by, I told him everything I knew, I’ve got nothing else for you.” Now you’re really confused. You cock your helmet slightly to the side quizzically without saying a word. Friend? You don’t have any friends. And definitely not any you would be working on a bounty with. Not anymore at least. The bartender seems to catch your confusion so he continues, “The other mandalorian.” Other mandalorian? There was a mandalorian here hunting your bounty? when you don't move he elaborates, “The big one, uh you know--real shiny guy, all chrome and whatnot…” the bartender trails off not knowing how else to describe him. Well, that's surely interesting. Suddenly you decide maybe you need to investigate this...shiny mandalorian. You nod at the bartender as a quiet thank you as you rise silently from your seat at the bar. You toss a couple credits onto the counter for the information, even if it's not what you were initially looking for. The bartender at the sight of the credits points you in the direction of where he had seen this mysterious mandalorian head off to, likely understanding now, that the two of you were most likely indeed, not friends.

It doesn’t take long to spot him. He must have just left the cantina not too long before you arrived, he was close by, and the reflective beskar stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the crowd that was parting for him in the same way it had for you. You kept your distance, keeping out of sight but trailing behind just enough that you wouldn't lose him. You knew damn well, that he probably knew you were following him, any truly skilled bounty hunter would realize that fact, let alone a mandalorian. Your theory was proved correct when he suddenly took a turn and dipped into an alleyway. You weren’t trying to sneak up on him, but you still kept your distance, turning the same corner and following him until you lost the crowd completely. The both of you walking to a part of town with no one, the bustling of the marketplace becoming faded white nose in the background. He makes a few more turns and you follow a few feet behind, until you go to turn the next corner and he's gone, no longer in front of you.

But you’re no fool, in a flash you whip around behind you, your blaster unholstered and pointed straight in front of you. He’s standing there, his own blaster mirroring yours. You both stand there, perfectly still, unmoving, blasters pointed to each other, fingers on their respective triggers. He speaks first, “Why are you following me?” but he doesn't move an inch “Why are you hunting my bounty?” you quip back. Making sure to stress the fact that this is your bounty, not his. You need those credits, you can’t afford to let them slip away from you when you have no way off this sandy shithole.

He tilts his visor at you slightly but doesn't reply. So you continue, “The bomber is mine, I suggest you find someone else to hunt down. I’ve got this one handled.” and by that, you mean if he does anything to compromise your ability to collect this quarry, you won't hesitate to kill him too, and you know he knows it...doesn’t he? The mysterious mandalorian doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move a muscle and neither do you. The silence between the two of you carries a tension just as deadly as the blasters you have pointed at each other.

With him standing in front of you like this, you’re able to get a better look at him. You look with only your eyes, careful not to move your head at all, as to not give him any indication you’re looking anywhere other than his visor, which is staring deadpan into yours. The bartender wasn’t exaggerating when he said this strange mandalorian was shiny and chrome. His beskar armor is unpainted, and beautiful, not a single flaw. You’ve never seen anything like it before. Whoever forged that for him was truly skilled in their craft.

“Your beskar,” You suddenly nod in his direction after the silence drags out far too long, “it’s new.” He still doesn't say anything. He’s giving you nothing. You’ve been doing this job awhile, there's usually something you can pull from, a slight change in breathing, tensing on the shoulders, anything to know what your enemy’s intentions are, but him....he's giving you nothing. “I’m looking for a forge master.” You hope by elaborating, you make your own intentions clearer.

“An Armorer?” he questions, and you nod once slowly. “Don’t have one in your clan?” He tilts his visor at you in inquiry, and you slowly shake your head once.

“I have no clan,” and you can sense his confusion so you continue, “I’m no mandalorian.” you confess, and instantly his blaster arm straightens and you hear the click of his safety switch off. You expected nothing less.

“Beskar belongs to the mandalorians. Hand it over.” His voice is dark and firm in his demands, but you can't help but scoff.

“I may not be a mandalorian, but this armor is mine.” your voice darkens threateningly, “It belonged to someone very important to me, passed down in their family for multiple generations. They’re gone, so now it's mine and I will die defending this armor in their honor.” “Did you inherit it from your father?” his voice through the modulator is firm, unwavering, and when you shake your head, he tries again, “Your mother?” You shake your head again. “Then it’s not yours, take it off...or I will” he threatens taking a step forward.

You take that step forward as an attack in itself, there's no way in hell anyone will take this armor from you, you quickly lunge towards him in a flash and he goes for you. You go to grab for his blaster, but at the same time he grabs yours and next thing you know, both your blasters are skittering across the sand in opposite directions. You both snap your gaze back and your visors meet each other, pausing for just a second before you're immediately swinging in his direction, aiming directly for his unarmored throat. He catches your fist, and swings with his free hand, you duck expertly out of the way and knee him right in the gut below the beskar chest plate. He doubles over, but manages to kick out one of your ankles causing you to stumble, and he goes for another swing. You jump back the best you can, and punch him perfectly in his unarmored side. He groans loudly at the impact, and stumbles back, but then before you know it, he gets you right back, and then again, his beskar fist colliding with the side of your helmet. It knocks you to the ground, your vision blurs again reminding you of your earlier injury from the crash. You shake your head and try to regain your footing, but he lunges down to grab you. You both struggle on the sandy ground before you get a hold of one of his arms and kick him up with both feet, hauling him over you, so he lands roughly on his back behind you.

He scrambles to get up, but you’re too quick, you’re on top of him pressing the mouth of his own blaster under his jaw. He doesn’t move and the only thing that can be heard is the rough modulated breathing of the two of you through your helmets. He moves the slightest amount, you're not sure if it's to adjust or to try to get up but you won’t risk it. You press his blaster farther to the underside of his jaw and click the safety off, a threat you think he understands well. You will absolutely not hesitate to kill him if he makes a wrong move. You’ve had a bad day, blowing a hole through his head would be the first good thing to happen to you, but at the same time, he clearly knows where to find what you're looking for and you want to get that information from him before you kill him.

“The armor is mine,” you say gruffly through your heavy breathing. You nudge the blaster into him again, just to make sure you’re being clear, “and if you, or anyone so much as lays a finger on it, I will kill you.” He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move an inch. Neither do you.

Instantly heat blasts against the side of you, and white noise erupts in your ears, a powerful force sends the both you flying sideways and slamming into the wall of the other building next to you, smoke and sand fly up and surround the air around you. You’re groaning as you slowly try to pick yourself up off the sandy floor, the heat from the fire building next to you quickly heating up your armor. It takes you a second to realize what's going on. The bomber. You had almost forgotten about your bounty, you were so transfixed on the strange mandalorian next to you, grunts coming from his modulator as he struggles to his feet. There's another explosion next to you and you try to keep steady scanning with your visor through the smoke to see if you can catch a glimpse of your quarry--and there! It's quick, but unmistakable as you see his heat signature duck away behind the roof of a neighboring building.

“Stay out of my way.” you spit darkly at the rival mandalorian, before turning and breaking into a sprint in the direction of your bounty.

It doesn’t take you long to catch up to him. You're running through the alley beneath the cloaked bomber while he jumps from roof to roof above you, desperately trying to shake you off his tail. He throws explosives in your direction, but you evade them expertly, bursting through the clouds of smoke and sand just when he thinks he's gotten you. He thinks he's being smart when he decides to throw another explosive ahead of you this time, blocking the rest of the alley with rubble from the surrounding buildings as their walls crumble. He lets out a loud and victorious laugh as he continues to run, celebrating far too early, not realizing he's made a critical error.

Instead of the rubble halting you in your pursuit, you use it to your advantage, nimbly leaping off a large piece and hauling yourself into the roof. Now that you're level with him, and off the maker forsaken sand, you start gaining on him, quick. He looks back in horror at you and tries to speed up, but you both know it's futile. You would have shot him already, but you left your blaster in the sand, forgetting to pick it up after the explosion, so you have to use other means. You grip the vibroblade strapped to your thigh and unsheath it. You’re just about to lunge for him, grab him and pull him to the ground, but something hits him and he drops instantly onto the roof below him.

You come to a screeching halt, almost tripping over his body. What the hell happened to him? You look down at him, convulsing on the floor, he's been stunned, quite literally electrified. You immediately know who's responsible and angrily look up to see that damned shiny mandalorian a few roofs away, lower his rifle and start to stride across to you. The sun reflecting off the top of his helmet in such an irritating way.

“I told you to stay out of my way!” you shout in his direction, “This is MY bounty! I’ve got it handled!” you grab a pair of cuffs off your belt and drop to your knees to cuff the bastard below you roughly despite his lack of resistance.

“You were too slow.” he says matter-of-factly as he approaches you. Oh you could kill him, you're tempted. The fact that he not only had the audacity to take down your bounty, but now dares to mock you? It would be an absolute pleasure to sink your blade into his neck.

Your thoughts are cut short when a gloved hand holds your blaster down to you. You look at it in confusion, then tilt your helmet to look up at the reflective beskar staring down at you. He nods towards you and nudges the blaster towards you again. You snatch it from his grip and put it in your holster without a word, and haul yourself up onto your feet with the bounty. Keeping a firm grip on his cuffed wrists behind his back while he struggles to hold himself up, “Bounty is mine.” you remind him, your visor burning a hole through his with how intensely you stare.

“I shot him down,” he reminds you.

“I had it handled,” you shoot back at him. Suddenly you’re curious, and you have an idea. You tilt your helmet up at him, if this works, you might have a solution to your crash landing earlier. “How much are they offering you? For the bounty.” He doesn't answer, you assume it's because he doesn’t trust you, so you offer your commission price readily, “Mines ten thousand.” with the way his visor snaps straight ahead in response, you know you have him beat. Probably by a lot. “I’ll tell you what,” you continue, “let's split the reward.” He cocks his helmet to the side in surprise...or possibly confusion? Maybe both. You can't really tell. So you repeat yourself, “let's split the reward. Five thousand between the two of us.”

“What's the catch?" Well, it’s not a no, so far so good.

“I need a ride,” you admit with a modulated sigh running through your helmet, “I had a bit of a rough landing. My ship’s scrapped."

"Five thousand credits isn't enough for a ship."

"That's not your problem. We'll part ways after we split the credits. We got a deal or not?"

"Only if you hand over that beskar when we split the credits."

you pretend to mull it over in your head, but you know that nothing in the universe could possibly convince you to give up your armor. you will die with it, and even in death you will take it to your grave.

"I'll consider it." you say finally. you know it's not what he wants to hear, but you hope it will be enough.

"Then it's a deal." He nods and doesn't say anything more, just starts walking in what you assume is the direction of his ship, so you kick the heels of the bounty you're still holding up by the cuffs.

"Move it." you snap at him and start pushing him forward as you follow the silver armor ahead of you. the bounty is still barely hanging onto consciousness, dragging his feet, you're doing most of the work for him.

Then suddenly the bounty stops all together like dead weight, digging his heels in, refusing to budge.

"I said move it!" you nudge him again roughly, more aggressive this time, but the bomber doesn't comply. His shoulders start shaking, rumbling beneath you, it takes you a second to realize he's laughing. "what's so funny?" you jostle him lightly to encourage a response. and at that, he throws his head back and starts laughing maniacally. That shock bolt from earlier must have done something to him, fried his brain or something. He just keeps laughing, like he can't control it. the mandalorian in front of you has stopped walking, and turned back around to you and the bounty to investigate the commotion.

"You're too late" the bounty spits out darkly between laughs, and he roars out louder, finding whatever it is he's going on about absolutely hysterical.

"What are you talking about? you roughly yank him around to face you and his laughing subsides leaving a sickening smile ripping across his face. He cranes his neck to look back at the bustling marketplace and begins roaring with laughter once again. but he's cut off at the sound of multiple pieces of metal hitting the tile of the roof in front of him.

"Talking about these?" the mandalorian asks, tossing another destroyed detonator bomb to the bounty’s feet. and the bomber looks at the pile horrified. it doesn't take long for you to put two and two together. This shiny mandalorian must have caught onto the bomber's plan early on and found all the hidden explosives long before you ran into him.

The bomber continues to stare down at the destroyed explosives in distress, realizing his plan failed, before that same sickening smile breaks out across his face and he chuckles out, “You missed one.”

He bursts back into a horrible laughter, and you suddenly have a pit in your stomach at the sound of it, you yank the bounty roughly by the neck, “Where is it?” your voice is rough and threatening, but he just continues to laugh maniacally. You can’t take it, todays been too much and his horrible laughter pushes you over the edge. Still grasping at his throat, you slam your armored fist hard straight into the center of his face, cutting his laughter off all together. He hangs his head limply, blood dripping down from his mouth, where his disgusting smile once was. “Where is it?” you grit out, pulling him in close to your visor with your grip tightening around his throat.

The bounty in your grip lifts his head just enough so his gaze meets your visor, and he smiles again brokenly, blood continuing to drop down from the middle of it. “Who knows?” he shrugs. Then spits blood at your visor, chuckling again weakly at you. Your veins turn to ice at the blatant disrespect and you can’t help yourself. You slam your fist into him again, harder this time, sending him flying to the ground at your feet, unmoving, out cold from your attack. Your stare lingers on the bloodied bounty beneath you too long, violence swirling through you. How dare he--how fucking dare he disrespect the armor like that--how dare he disrespect him like that.

Your fists clench at your sides, as you try to calm yourself. Your helmet snaps to the chrome mandalorian besides you, his visor shamelessly staring directly at you. You wonder if he can sense the anger whirling inside of you. “Where did you find the others?” You manage to grit out through your tight jaw. “The explosives.” Everything about you is rigid and tense from the altercation.

“At vendor tables he was harassing a few days ago, after the first bombing at a neighboring settlement. I checked all of them.” The chrome helmet doesn't move its gaze off of you. He's standing statuesque, unmoving. You look back to the bomber still unconscious on the floor. You’re trying to rack your brain, think where the last explosive could possibly be. You haven't even had the chance to investigate anything yet, you didn’t even get a chance to gather information, you immediately ended up tangled up with the strange mandalorian next to you when you made it into town. That’s when it hits you--the cantina. “Did you check the cantina?” you snap your visor to meet his again, and he shakes his head. “Keep an eye on him,” you nudge the bounty on the floor with your foot, then take off in the direction of the bar without another word. You have to be quick, you don’t know how much time is left until the bomb detonates and kills everyone in that cantina.

The bartender greets you when you rush in, “Ah! Your back! Did you find your friend?” but you ignore him, you don't have time for pleasantries. You start scanning the entirety of the bar rapidly, looking for any sign of anything unusual. You don’t even know where to begin, patrons staring at you and murmuring to each other while you silently search around--but then you hear it. The faintest of noises barely cutting through the hum of the scene around you. You follow the sound of the achingly familiar beeping, it's at the bar, close to where you sat earlier today. The bartender mistakenly thinks you’re walking over to him directly, and panics at the way you’re striding over in his direction, with purpose. “H-hey, listen-- I don’t know what I did, but i'm sure we can work something out--there's no need for any un--unnecessary violence...,” he backs up nervously, his hands out in front of him trying to show he's unarmed and willingly surrendering.

You continue to ignore him, and he swallows audibly as you make it to the edge of the bar, but you immediately drop down to reach below it, snatching the blinking explosive from where it's stuck under the bar and rising back up, holding it in your hand. He stares at you--stunned. Now realizing what your intentions were as you toss the explosive to the ground and crush it with your boot. The light fades from within the device and you pick it back up, staring at the cracked device in your hand. Your mind wanders for just a second as you remember your nightmare from earlier, the painful memory that still haunts your dreams. The environment of the cantina fading entirely until it's just you, and the broken metal in your hand. You swear you can almost still see the faintest of light blinking from inside it.

“Thank you.” you snap back to reality at the bartender's words, suddenly realizing where you are. You nod at him once accepting his gratitude. “Drinks are on me--always! Forever! Anything you want, you can have, I owe you that much…” he fades off looking down to the destroyed explosive in your hand. You smile at him, knowing he can't see it, and nod again.

You’re about to reply, but the bartender cuts you off, looking behind you, “Ah! I see you found your friend!” You turn to look towards the entrance of the cantina, where you find the shiny and chrome mandalorian standing, the unconscious bounty slung over his shoulder, while his visor is staring at you. You hold up the destroyed piece of metal in your hand for him to see, and at that, he's already turning to head out. You go to follow him, but stop when you hear the bartender start to speak again, “Maker,” he breathes out, “I’ve heard stories of mandalorians before. Never thought I would see one in person--let alone two!” he chuckles to himself.

You turn your helmet in his direction over your shoulder without turning fully towards him, “I’m no mandalorian...” your voice ringing through the modulator at an audible volume, despite how quietly you feel you say it. You don’t wait for a response, you immediately continue your way outside of the cantina to catch up to the stranger carrying your bounty ahead of you.

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

When you finally arrive at his ship, just on the outskirts of town, you’re a little surprised to see his ship isn’t much nicer than yours was. It’s old and worn down. It looks like it's been abused to no end. “Are you sure you’re able to give me a ride? She doesn’t look like she would last the journey through the atmosphere…” “Where’s your wreck? We’ll stop by so you can grab what you need.” You know he ignored your question on purpose, and he hits a button on his vambrace, which triggers the slow lowering of the ship's ramp, kicking up sand around it.

“I’ll punch the coordinates into your nav comp. Just get that asshole in carbonite.” You’re already climbing up the ramp to his ship, not waiting for an invitation, and walking into the dark of the ship's hull, its armored owner following close behind you, your bounty still slung over his shoulder unconscious. You take a quick look around as the ramp closes behind the two of you, dim lights illuminating the space. It’s not big by any means. You make note of all the crates and other miscellaneous goods neatly tucked around the hull’s nooks and crannies, it’s surprisingly cozy.

While the mandalorian moves past you towards the carbonite chamber, you take that as your sign, and you make your way up the ladder of what you assume to be the cockpit of the ship. Opening the door once you make it to the top and stepping inside, you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the control panel. It’s familiar enough, thank the maker. With how old the ship is you were expecting the controls to be unrecognizable and ancient, but you could pilot this. Easy. You step up to the navigation panel and punch in the coordinates of your wreck.

You go to sit in the pilot's seat and initiate for takeoff, but stop suddenly. This isn’t your ship, you should wait for him. You’re going to be stuck with this stranger of a mandalorian in hyperspace for an unknown amount of time, you don’t want to overstep and cause another scuffle. He's, unfortunately, your only way off this planet, and he's got your bounty. You should be considerate seeing as you’re a guest, and he's doing you a favor. A five thousand credit taxi ride...maker what a shitty deal you negotiated yourself into.

You settle into the copilots seat, and groan slightly as you sink into it. The soreness from the crash earlier is starting to settle in now that all your adrenaline from the day has worn off. Your glaring headache is becoming more and more unbearable. You reach up and, with a click and a hiss of the release, slide your helmet off your head and rest it in your lap. You breathe in deeply, maker...nothing beats the initial hit of fresh air when your helmet comes off. You lean back further in your seat trying to relax against the plush, worn leather seat. Everything aches, you're exhausted. You close your eyes and continue to breathe deeply as you enjoy the feeling of air hitting your face without your helmet. You don’t even hear the door to the cockpit slide open while you take a moment to relax.

He says something, as he approaches behind you, but you didn’t quite catch what it was, so you spin in your chair to face him, “Sorry,” you shake your head slightly, “I was zoning out, what was that?” but he doesn't say anything or move. The armored wall of a man looks frozen, tense, his body language is all rigid and weird compared to how he usually stands. You just stare back at him confused. Is there something outside? You look behind you and out the windows of the cockpit, feeling your hair brush against you at the movement. Nothing there. You turn back to him, “Uhh? Everything okay, shiny?” He continues to stand there staring at you, stiff as a board, before he suddenly looks away from you and makes his way to the pilots seat, sitting down without a word and initiating for take off.

What the kriff was that about? You continue to stare at him confused, hoping for an explanation, but he continues flicking the controls and grabbing hold of the thrusters to take off without a word. You know he's focused on flying, but at the same time, it's really starting to feel like he's purposely avoiding looking anywhere in your direction. You can’t help the way you tilt your head at him in suspicion, but you decide to let it go. You just met the guy, he doesn't owe you anything other than the ride you agreed on. But maker, is it going to bother you the whole time.

You ride the rest of the way to your ship in silence, luckily it's not too far and you make it there relatively quickly. The second his ship touches the sand next to yours, you jump out of your seat tucking your helmet under your arm. “I’ll be quick. I don’t have much.” you wait a second for a response, but he’s still avoiding looking at you, and doesn't say anything. You tilt your head at him again with growing suspicion, but head out regardless without another word.

Stepping back onto your trashed ship feels surreal. Looking at all your belongings scattered around and trying to decide what to take is upsetting. This isn’t the first time you’ve done this, having to leave behind the majority of your belongings and start over, but it never gets easier. You pack mostly practical things, the essentials: clothes, medical supplies, rations, whatever weapons you have. You figure you should probably bring your blanket, you aren’t quite sure how long your journey will be and hyperspace is cold.

When you head over to your cot however, your gut wrenches seeing what you still had of his things scattered throughout the space. The old box you kept some sentimental items in had spilled, scattering the contents across your bed. Some of his old clothes, a crumpled note he left you once, you chuckle lightly to yourself at the memory of it. A necklace, he got it for you as a gift on Coruscant. You pick up his old sleep shirt that's bundled up in the corner and bring it up to your face, taking a deep inhale. It still smells like him. Despite sleeping with it every night, his scent still clings to the material. It's faint, not as strong as it once was, but it's there. Your heart aches, not a day goes by that you don’t miss him. You gingerly and lovingly fold it up neatly and pack it away with the rest of the belongings you plan to take with you.

You haul the large bags of your belongings over your shoulder, off your own ship and carry them up the ramp of the stranger mandalorian’s ship. You hit the control panel on the wall once you're inside, closing the ramp behind you. You set your things down in an unoccupied corner and make your way back up to the cockpit, helmet still under your arm. When you enter the cockpit however, you pause.

There’s a strange cooing coming from the pilot's seat where the mandalorian is sitting. Was...was that sound coming from him? There’s no way. You slowly make your way over so you can peer over his shoulder, you gasp at the sight of the green creature bundled up in his lap. It’s big dark eyes staring into yours. “What is that thing?” you mutter out, barely able to squeeze the words out as you stare at it curiously.

“A child.” You furrow your brows together at his answer. Well no shit. That was clearly a baby, but not like any baby you’ve ever seen. You don't recognize its species. Let alone the mystery as to why the mandalorian in front of you has it in his possession. “Is it...yours?” you're not quite sure how to vocalize all of the questions running through your head. Is the mandalorian the same mysterious species under that beskar? How has he managed hunting bounties with a youngling on board?

“For now.” You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn't. You slowly lower yourself into the copilot’s seat, not once removing your gaze from the green baby in his arms.

“And that means?” You tilt your head and the baby mirrors you, cooing at you.

“He is mine until I can reunite him with his own kind. I’m looking for a jedi to take him on.” the baby reaches out to you babbling happily. You go to hold him, reaching out to take him from the mandalorian’s arms, but stop in an instant when his visor suddenly snaps up to look at you. He's doing that thing again, just staring at you intensely. You decide to ignore it, more transfixed by the baby. “May I?” you tilt your hands still outstretched in front of you, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that he still doesn't trust you. He just met you, another bounty hunter, and now you're asking to hold his baby. Much to your surprise however, he allows it and cautiously hands the baby to you, his visor never moving from your face.

The baby coos happily and reaches up to you as you pull him to your armored chest. He’s adorable, the way his little teeth poke through his smile, it swells through your chest. Oh he is absolutely precious. You wiggle your finger at him and he latches his tiny green ones around it. You haven't even noticed the mandalorian still staring at you. “Does he have a name?” you press your finger lightly to the baby's nose and his little green smile grows larger as he giggles in response. You can feel yourself smiling too, you can't help it, it's contagious.

“Grogu.” You can still feel his visor on your when he replies. “Little Grogu…” you repeat softly, stoking the baby’s cheek. His big ears perking up at the sound of his name. He reaches up with his little fingers, so you hold him up a little higher against your chest, and he grabs onto a piece of your hair. You chuckle lightly at how captivated he is by you, in the same way you are with him. “He’s adorable.” you finally break your gaze from the baby in your arms, looking up to the shiny wall of beskar sitting next to you. Your smile fades into a frown when you see he's still staring at you. Okay, this is getting weird. “What's your deal?” you snap out at him, the baby still babbling away in your arms, his little hands reaching out to touch your face and hair. “Why are you staring at me like that? We got a problem?”

The mandalorian quickly averts his gaze to the control panel, and begins initiating take off again, punching coordinates into the navigation. “No, sorry.” He mutters, barely audible through the helmets modulator.

“Then what is it? Is there something on my face?” and with that he pauses. Stops flicking switches for just a second too long, before continuing. “No.” He grabs a hold of the thrusters and pulls back, lifting the ship off the ground, and taking off. Maker, his responses are so--frustrating. Absolutely infuriating. How many more questions do you have to ask before you get to the bottom of this? You decide to give up again, it’s not worth your efforts. Let him be difficult if he wants, you’ll forget about him soon enough when you part ways. You turn your attention back to Grogu, immediately your irritation dissolves into nothing. Maker, you’ve only held this child in your arms maybe five minutes and you are already absolutely enamored with him.

By the time you make the jump into hyperspace, the child has fallen asleep soundly in your arms. The mandalorian stands, and carefully takes him from you, descending the ladder into the hull with him to put him to bed, you assume. Now that you're alone in the cockpit, you look down to the helmet in your lap with a sigh. You grasp onto it lightly and tilt it up to stare into the visor. You reflect on your day; the crash, the scuffle with the strange mandalorian, the rush of trying to find the last bomb your bounty hid. Nothing ever goes smoothly for you anymore. Everyday feels like a struggle now that he's gone. It's been over a year since he died--almost two, you realize suddenly. The nightmares still plague you almost every night. You clench your eyes shut, and shake your head lightly trying not to think about any part of that horrible day. You should have died with him--you were supposed to. Whatever kind of sick joke the maker was playing, saving you and not him, you’ll never understand. You flutter your eyes back open, another sad sigh escaping your lips, as you stare back into the familiar visor. The smear of stars through hyperspace reflecting off of it. Hollow...empty. You gently hold the beskar up in your hands, and lean forward to press your forehead into it, taking a deep breath as you do so.

You gasp lightly when you hear the cockpit doors open, and pull away from the helmet in your hands as the new and mysterious mandalorian you just met enters and resumes his seat in his respective chair. You’re suddenly embarrassed, hoping he didn’t see that. Such a personal and intimate moment you don't want to be witnessed by anyone, let alone someone you just met... and quite frankly don’t like. You relax slightly after a moment of silence, and lean back into your seat, resting your aching body against the back of it, closing your eyes against the streaks of light coming through the window.

“Who did it belong to?” His modulated voice ringing out through the silence catches you off guard.

“Hmm?” you open your eyes and turn your head slightly against the back of your seat to face him. He hasn't moved his gaze from the cockpit window.

“Your armor. You said it belonged to someone important to you.” You suddenly get the feeling he definitely saw you earlier, when you had your forehead to the helmet in your lap, and you tense a bit. You’re just staring up at him cautiously, uncertain if you can trust him.

You’re quiet for too long before you let out the softest of sighs and take another deep breath in, “Maybe another time...” is all you can manage. You’re not sure why, but the idea of telling him seems impossible. It's not a secret by any means, you haven't hesitated to tell anyone before. Maybe it’s because you're not sure you can trust him, or simply the fact that you don’t like him. Maybe it’s because he's a mandalorian...

It's probably all of those reasons and more, all mixed up. It doesn't really matter, there's no reason for him to know. You will be parting ways with this mysterious mandalorian soon enough. Thankfully he doesn’t press the issue. In fact, he doesn’t say anything. The two of you ride your way through the silence of hyperspace without another word. Only the low rumbling of the engine beneath you filling the air. *** MASTER - Next

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #mandalorian fanfic #fan fic #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction

73 notes · View notes

itsbatman-butpoor-andmurderous · 3 years

Text

when vacationing in florida:

tips from a born and raised floridian

wear (reef safe) sunscreen

this is a given y’all. if you’re out in the sun for longer than 10-15 minutes you need to have sunscreen on and re-apply every hour. let it soak in for about 30 minutes before you go into water. if you don’t you will get a nasty sunburn, and skin cancer isn’t fun either but it takes a lot of sunburns to get to that point. however, you can get sun poisoning from one really bad sunburn. sun poisoning, or photodermatitis, is a form of allergic contact dermatitis which is your skin having an allergic reaction to sun exposure. it can lead to swelling, difficulty breathing, burning sensations, an itchy red rash that looks like small blisters, skin peeling, nausea, and itchy brown/orange tinted blotches that mostly appear on your face/neck area and can stay there for days after the initial poising.

see the point on reef safe sunscreen to learn more about why you need to use reef safe sunscreen.

take your jewelry off before going in the ocean. sharks are attracted to jewelry, blood, and things like surfboard or boogie boards that make you look like a seal

sharks don’t eat people on purpose, they can’t see very well so they rely on their sense of smell, to smell blood, and their limited vision which mistakes shiny jewelry for shiny fish scales and boards for seals due to the similar shape. sharks do something called sensory biting, meaning they will bite you to see if you are food. don’t do things that make you look like food.

avoid swimming at night

during the day sharks tend to stay out past the sand bar, an area off the shore where sand has built up to a platform. however, at night they move closer to the shore, so try to avoid night swimming. and because the moon is out, the waves are always bigger and rougher.

stingray shuffle

the stingray shuffle is getting your feet buried slightly under the sand in the ocean and shuffling your feet aa you walk, hence the name. depending on what time of year you come it may be stingray season and it’s recommended to do this during that time to avoid getting stung.

be cautious of currents

currents can move you every which way and suddenly your 30 feet away from your set up on the sand. currents can also move you out to sea which can be extremely dangerous. so if you notice a tugging feeling or notice that your further away from your stuff, watch yourself to make sure you don’t stray to far away.

try not to shave the day of going into the water and try not to enter the water with open wounds

while oceans aren’t as bad as lakes when it comes to bacteria, they are still very bacteria filled and you can get an infection real quick. so shave a day or two before and make sure your wounds are closed because some infections can lead to rashes, bubbles, or even amputation.

check for red tide and research it

red tide isn’t talked about very often but it is disgusting. red tide is discolored sea water caused by toxic red dinoflagellates (microorganisms). it kills tons of sea life which causes said dead sea life to wash up on beaches and float in the water which attracts predators like sharks and big fish. it also releases toxins into the air which makes it hard to breathe, and for people with asthma or any other respiratory problems this can cause serious illness. the west coast of florida is dealing with some red tide right now if you want to research it.

try not to honk at people while driving

this is something taught in other southern states as well, and my parents taught it to me when i was learning to drive. if you honk at someone you are running the risk of being followed and shot. a lot of people have guns down here and they aren’t afraid to use them. now this will not happen every time you honk, i have been in cars where the driver has honked and nothing happened. but it’s better to be safe than sorry because some people don’t know how to handle their road rage.

prepare for the humidity

i know your weather app says that it’s 85 degrees but it feels like 93 when you go outside because of the humidity. that’s why florida people wear layers.

rain does not last as long here as it does in northern states

if it starts raining your day is not ruined. in florida , unless there is a hurricane or tropical storm, rain storms normally only last for like 20-30 minutes at a time. if there is a little group of them you will get spurts of rain and no rain for like an hour or two at most. when there are big storms they normally last for a couple hours, but we don’t get storms like that super often.

gator safety

something that it taught in all florida elementary schools, if an alligator is chasing you run in one direction for 10-15 feet, then make a hard turn in another direction and repeat (this is what we mean when we say running in zigzags, not like hopping side to side as you run), if an alligator has a grip on one of your limbs or someone else’s, plug your fingers or something else up it’s nose so it’s forced to open its mouth the breathe, and don’t touch gator babies, the mom can and will come for you.

shark safety

also something that is taught in all florida elementary schools, but shark safety is more common knowledge than gator safety. it a shark has a grip on you, punch them in the nose. it’s a sensitive point and they normally release you and swim away. as previously mentioned, sharks don’t like to eat people, they don’t think we taste good. so unless it’s starving sharks won’t try to eat a human that they can tell is a human. however if you don’t follow the previously stated shark safety tips, they may mistake you for a fish or seal.

unless you’re on a private beach, spots on the sand are first come first serve

just because you had a spot yesterday does not mean you have that spot for the rest of your vacation, that’s not how the beach works. you have to get there early if you want a specific spot.

don’t touch the manatees

manatees are an endangered species, meaning that you can not touch them. it’s illegal. that being said, if the manatee floats it’s happy round little self over to you and touches you then that’s fine, you can’t control what the manatee does. but if you actively swim towards and reach for the manatee and someone with a legal standing or a life guard sees you, you can get in trouble.

most sea life is not violent until provoked

manatees are not violent at all, they just float there, that’s why they’re endangered. but creatures like sharks and stingrays are not dangerous unless they think your there to fight or they mistake you for food. that’s why you stingray shuffle, because if you step on a stingray it will see you as a threat and sting you. and that’s why you take the shark prevention seriously so they don’t mistake you for food.

dolphin safety; admire from a distance

oh but dolphins are nice! wrong! dolphins are very dangerous creatures, just not in all the same ways that sharks are. they are one of the only creatures on the planet aside from humans who do malicious things knowing that they are malicious. dolphins at swim with experiences have given humans lacerations and broken bones. they are still predators and while it only happens rarely, dolphins do bite and attack people. dolphins are incredibly smart, strong, and fast. if they feel threatened they will swim at you full force and hit you with their head/body as hard as they possibly can. one woman named valerie ryan was hit by a dolphin which resulted in six spinal fractures, a damaged lung, and ptsd. dolphins are civil for the most part, but they are astonishingly smart and strong, and will attack if provoked or threatened, so it’s better to avoid close contact with them and admire from a distance or from a boat.

get reef safe sunscreen

all spray sunscreens and quite a few lotions contain toxic chemicals that are contributing to killing reefs. australian gold makes botanical reef safe sunscreen with spfs from 30 to 70, and they make a spray with the smallest amount of the toxic chemical that they can if you desperately need a spray. get reef safe sunscreen. it doesn’t matter if you’re not swimming in the ocean all run off from showers, sinks, toilets, and other water systems ends up in the ocean. so even if you spend the day in the city or at a theme park, if you come home a wash off that sunscreen it will end up in the ocean.

theme park tips

bring a mini battery powered or chargeable fan or you will wish that you did. watch the weather, if it looks like it’s going to rain head to a restaurant and eat lunch or dinner, by the time you’re done the rain will most likely be over. do what you want to do the most or what normally has the longest line right when the park opens, the line will be the shortest then. download the park apps to monitor the wait times for rides and to see if any are closed, delayed, or virtual line only. if you plan on buying souvenirs do so an 2-3 hours before the park closes, this way you won’t have to carry the bags around all day and you can beat the closing crowd. try to plan your route ahead of time so that you won’t be walking to and fro because someone wanted to do this ride that’s on the other side of the park and after that someone else wants to do a ride that’s right by the place you were before, if you don’t your feet will hurt like a mf at the end of the day and you’ll waste time walking all over the place. bring a travel sized deodorant, baby wipes, hand sanitizer, period products, and anything else you may need that they might not sell.

theme parks with kids (courtesy of my mother)

bring your own snacks and water (you’re allowed). once again, mini fan. frog togs are another way to keep kids cool without having to do much cause you just like put it on their neck. find a rest spot, my mom said that when she and my dad would take us to theme parks when we were little they had designated rest spots where they would sit and let us nap, eat snacks, and cool off in the shade. put a bead bracelet on your child with your name, their name, and your number on it if your worried that they may get lost. make reservations, hungry kids are no fun, and if they have to sit and wait for a restaurant for a long time they will get hangry, making a reservation around the time that they normally get hungry is a way to avoid this. bring a change of clothes.

think that’s all, and enjoy your vacation lol

15 notes · View notes

ask-iamnotanalicorn · 4 years

Photo

Previous: The Tirek Timeline

The Discorded Timeline

The new Element bearers had not appeared. With nothing to fall back on, Celestia went to face the return of her sister armed only with her determination and desperation. With the knowledge that anything other than subduing her sister would result in Luna’s death or her ponies’ enslavement, Celestia fought with all her heart.

A thousand years hadn’t tempered Nightmare Moon’s madness, but it had grown Celestia’s magical skill. The clash of the last remaining alicorns filled the sky with light and darkness that could be seen across the entire country... including from the gardens of the castle in Canterlot, where a long-dormant statue waited.

If Celestia had known the danger... if she had known that the Tree of Harmony had grown weaker over a thousand years... if she had known that the Element magic used to imprison Discord was weakened with it, and he only needed one significant bit of discord to break the last lock on his prison... she might have preferred allowing Nightmare Moon to take the throne.

Because two alicorn sisters displaying their ground-shattering discord across the skies was more than enough.

Discord caught them mid-battle...and was honestly kinda irritated to find them more focused on fighting each other than challenging him. He couldn’t even set up a good game for them to lose at before he took over! He’d just have to fix that with a bit of chaos magic. A quick boop to the heads, and... well, things didn’t turn out quite like he expected. Celestia became haughty, snide, and violent, but Luna changed out of her (decidedly tacky, but what could you expect from pony fashion) goth look and turned all nice and weirdly remorseful. Luna tried to appeal to her sister, Celestia (who now had an interesting tinge of fire in her mane) unleashed some demeaning verbal attacks, and pretty soon it looked like they were gearing up for another fight, and...

Well, this was stupid. They were so focused on each other, they weren’t even paying attention to him! He’d fix that with another boop on Celestia’s noggin - really annoying, having to un-chaos someone, but at least it put the two ponies on the same side so they could get their priorities straight and focus on...

Ah, yes, there it was! Just what he’d waited for these past thousand years: two alicorn sisters, both staring at him with horror and worry and that oh-so-precious pony determination. Too bad they had already worn themselves out with their fight over who-knew-what. They were almost pathetically easy to overpower, especially with not an Element in sight.

The princesses were his playthings. Equestria would be shifted and reformed under his chaotic whim. And none stood able to challenge him.

The Reign of Discord had begun.

----

Meanwhile, Salespitch was visiting Canterlot at just the wrong time, and...

Well, what do you think happens when a lord of chaos notices a pony standing in the middle of the road, trying its hardest to not show how petrified it is, and it has a horn and wings but clearly no alicorn magic? And then said lord of chaos investigates said pony out of curiosity, mocks him about playing princess, and is amazed when said pony actually gets annoyed enough to scold Discord that no, he is NOT an alicorn, he’s never WANTED to be an alicorn, and he would really prefer it if people didn’t mistake him for royalty when he’s just a stallion with a genetic mutation trying to live a normal life!!!

Discord thought that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

Long story short, instead of Discording Sales’ personality, Discord just... made his biggest annoyance a reality. Obviously he didn’t give Sales FULL alicorn powers, and what powers he did give him are pretty wonky - the ability to turn random objects into suitcases, and fly upside down, and speak in a dramatic Royal Canterlot Voice at random and totally inconvenient times, etc. The royal regalia was a stroke of genius inspired by one of this new era’s “cartoon characters,” a perky little alicorn called Prince Smiley. (The fact that Sales had once dressed as said character for Nightmare Night was sheer coincidence, although Discord would have found that even more perfect.)

Obviously Sales was horrified, which is really the wrong reaction, because it just made the whole thing funnier to Discord and thus made the draconequus that much less likely to forget about Sales and go pester other ponies. Anonymity is your friend in Discord’s kingdom.

Now, Discord being Discord, he gets bored of things easily - including mocking and tormenting the powerless alicorn princesses. There’s a whole nation to twist and remodel into a true chaotic kingdom! Plenty of other ponies to give him some variety. Turning them to stone would be so gauche and ruin his single moral high ground over the ponies, so when Discord tires of his princess fun, he turns the alicorn sisters into fillies and leaves them with his newly-appointed Prince of Babysitting. After all, shouldn’t an "alicorn” be in charge of baby alicorns? Discord even made him a lovely glass castle with stone windows - more of a cage, really, since Sales can’t leave it, but he has a throne and everything! Discord doesn’t even have to worry about manipulating somecreatures into worshipping the new “prince”; Sales has already got his own cult that fawns over him outside the see-through castle like a fanclub, to Sales’ eternal embarrassment. Yes, this is clearly the best setup Discord could have come up with all around, takes-hand-off-and-pats-self-on-the-back.

Time passes with no end in sight for the madness that has turned Equestria into a kaleidoscope’d chaos playground. Sales kind of falls into a perpetually annoyed resignation. He tries to be grateful - at least he still possesses full control of his mind, unlike so many ponies outside his weird castle. He has the honor of safeguarding the princesses - although he feels guilty that he can’t actually protect them from Discord’s whims. But he can keep them happy, and the few times he gets to talk with them before or after they’ve been in their baby states, Celestia manages to give him a word of encouragement or gratitude. (Plus, well, they ARE pretty adorable as fillies... even if he is NOT the world’s best babysitter and has to figure things out on the fly. He really wishes his mom were here.)

There is one actual advantage to all this. Ironically, Sales has a closer connection with Discord than most; since Discord made Sales the caretaker of the princesses, he actually talks to Sales sometimes. Granted, he mostly treats Sales as a captive audience to whine at when Discord starts getting bored of whatever recent chaotic plan he’s enacted. After all, when EVERYTHING is chaos... well, chaos almost becomes normal, so Discord keeps having to up himself. Sales actually manages to have conversations with him sometimes, and he’s gotten a glimpse of the truth even Discord can’t or won’t recognize: that he’s lonely, dissatisfied, and lacks a real sense of purpose or fulfillment.

Sales has to treat carefully, since annoying or upsetting Discord too much results in chaotic ‘punishments’ that are usually more disorienting and frustrating than actually harmful. But Sales has started picking his ear a little bit with hints that maybe Discord is bored because most creatures subject to his chaos don’t enjoy it like he does? Maybe sharing fun WITH people is better than just having fun for yourself at others’ expense? I mean, look at you, Discord, the only pony you really talk to is a nobody you made into an alicorn just to embarrass him. That’s a pretty lonely way to live, isn’t it?

Sometimes Discord listens while making snarky comments. Other times Discord gets irritated and turns Sales into a tiny alicorn who has to ride around on baby Celestia’s back and try not to get stepped on (or something of that nature). But Sales keeps trying and hoping and praying he’ll get through, because if they ever hope to stop Discord’s reign of chaos... well, it might just take teaching the Lord of Chaos what friendship is.

Even if the only pony currently able to make the effort finds him super annoying.

-----

Fun Facts About The Discorded Timeline:

- Yes, Luna’s popsicle is her cutie mark. I suppose once she digests it it will reappear back on her flank. XD

- Cadence hasn’t become an alicorn yet in this timeline. The chaos events do lead to her meeting Shining Armor, though, because TRUE LOVE and such :D

- Sales’ cult ABSOLUTELY LOVES THIS SITUATION. I mean, a lot of them hope/expect that Sales will eventually break free and defeat Discord now that he is showing his true alicorn might. Sales yells at them through the walls sometimes, but they have a hard time hearing him, so naturally they make up all sorts of “godly” nonsense he’s supposedly sharing.

- Discord did in fact accidentally cure Luna of the bad magic that was fueling and feeding off her old rage and paranoia. She and Celestia have pretty well made up through these weird events. And as Discord grows bored of their initial humiliation, his torments get less frightening and more, well, just weird, so life is KINDA bearable. Plus they really like Sales now (they don’t remember their adult selves while they are babies, but Discord makes sure they can remember every embarrassing toddler thing they did when they get aged back to normal.)

- Sales doesn’t know what’s going on with his family, they were back home when this happened. He’s hopeful they didn’t get affected too badly. In fact, Featherhorn (his hometown) got turned into a cardboard village and a few ponies had their heads swapped around, but Discord hasn’t made any connection between them and Sales, so he doesn’t think anything special of the place. Mostly just chocolate rain, flying rhinobunnies, and corncob trees. Everypony agrees it could be worse (but not out loud, that’s just ASKING for trouble!) Also Per talks backwards now, but everyone can still understand her (somehow) so it evens out.

- Black DOES run into Discord at one point while trying to sneak into Sales’s castle. Discord thinks he’s just another of Sales’ fanclub, so he turned him blue and forgot about him. Black finds this super annoying, especially when he can’t change his color no matter what magical disguise he makes.

- Don’t even worry about Sombra, he’s not touching a Discorded Equestria with a ten foot pole. Honestly Discord probably went after him as soon as he showed up, adding the Crystal Empire to his chaos kingdom.

- The Changelings are staying the HECK away in their nice little magic-negating castle, the only safe haven from Discord. Pony refugees actually try and go there, although it is tricky to get around the thick forest of living candy Discord erected all the way around their territory. Those who do get in exchange servitude and donations of love for safety. It keeps the changelings fed and the ponies feel safer working for bug-ponies in a place of order than out in the madness of Discord’s land.

- So as you might imagine, Sales can’t break through the glass of his glass castle. If he were to try and smash through the stone windows, though... let’s just say he feels really smart AND really dumb while making his escape attempt. It doesn’t go over well with Discord, especially when he manages to successfully pawn the baby princesses off to some of his cult members (one of whom is Black, don’t worry), who hide them away. This leads to a rather heated conversation when Discord catches up with him... and perhaps a moment of truth where Discord might realize he actually does maybe kinda sorta consider this silly brown pony a friend who he possibly doesn’t want to severely punish as a warning to other ponies who might defy him. Maybe.

- Art note: I didn’t draw a background for this one initially, and then I got around to coloring them and knew it needed SOMETHING. Came up with the glass castle with stone windows because that seems Discord-like. Also baby bottle trees. The idea for breaking the stone windows was literally last minute as I wrote this, so bonus!

Next Week: Industrial Devolution (Flim Flim Universe)

#mlp art #mlp comics #mlp ask blog #IANAA #discord #mlp discord #salespitch

64 notes · View notes

vs-redemption · 4 years

Text

Crime is Common. Logic is Rare. (Ch.24)

Chapter Twenty-Four: Fun Evening Out (HawksxGN!Reader)

From Cindy: This chapter is another long one! And, as promised, there’s plenty of Hawks ♥ Enjoy!

Plot summary: You thought your hands were full as a regular quirk geneticist, but then you meet Hawks and things get even more exciting!

Warnings:

⚠️This story contains spoilers from the manga.

⚠️Some events and plot points have been altered from the original manga

Tag List: @gayforkeigo @marshmallow-witch @redflannel @toyo-shiro @elsasshole @astronomyturtle @iambashfulperson @omiwashere

Next Chapter : Chapter Guide

Seeing the familiar scenery of your homework appear outside the window of the bullet train as it raced along the tracks felt like slowly waking up from a nightmare. Even though you knew that Dr. Garaki, his secret nomu lab, and the slumbering Shigaraki would still be waiting for you when you got back to Tokyo, there was still a sense of relief to put it all behind you for a little while. There was the possibility that receiving permission from the doctor to return home for a weekend was some sort of test, but you couldn’t bring yourself to worry too much about that as you exited the train station and took a deep calming breath to inhale the wonderful scent that was unique to your city. After checking into the hotel you’d be staying in for the night, your first priority was heading to the small, research facility that you’d been missing so terribly since moving away.

“Look who’s back!” your feisty middle aged boss hops out of her chair and comes out from behind her desk to engulf you in a hug. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about us completely.”

“Never!” You promise while awkwardly returning the woman’s embrace. “Anyway, I know we haven’t seen each other in a while, but it’d be hard to forget you when we’ve been emailing back and forth every few days.”

“It’s not the same as seeing you in person though,” your boss claims. After finally releasing you from her grasp, she backs away and looks around expectantly. “Where’s your bird?” You can’t help but let out a dry laugh and shake your head at her.

“I’m starting to think you like him more than me,” you raise an eyebrow at her and she simply shrugs with a playful look in her eyes. “And the truth comes out,” you sigh before finally answering her question. “Hawks will be here around closing time. He had some work stuff he had to take care of, plus he prefers flying over cramming those massive wings onto public transportation.”

“Makes sense to me,” your boss nods and then finally turns the subject to business. “Simon isn’t scheduled to come in today, but I’m sure he’ll pop by after his classes are over since he knows you’re in town. He’s getting much better at managing things on his own now that you’re not here to guide him, but he’ll probably bombard you with a million questions when he sees you anyway.”

“That’s fine,” you nod in understanding. “I feel bad that I haven’t been there for him as much as I should.”

“We all understand you’ve been busy,” your boss assures you. “I’m just proud to know your efforts have paid off and that you’re now working for such a renowned scientist. I can only imagine what kind of things you’re working on and the impact it’ll have on the world!”

“Yeah,” you have to force a smile on your face. You wished her fantasies were the truth, but the reality was that you were helping a psychopath create a super villain that would probably be capable of levels of unprecedented destruction. “Well, I’d better get to work trying to catch up on everything I’ve been neglecting back here.”

Your boss nods her head and you head into one of the labs to throw yourself into your old routine, relishing in the fact that you wouldn’t have to worry about putting on a show for the mad doctor or Shigaraki. Even in his unconscious state, the leader of the villains was a pain in the neck. It had taken about two weeks of around-the-clock care before Shigaraki finally stopped having the violent convulsion episodes caused by his body rejecting the assimilation of All For One’s DNA into its own. He seemed stable now, which is why the doctor had allowed you a little time away from the lab, but you knew things were going to get just as intense once you were back.

After reviewing the results of Shigaraki’s procedure so far, Garaki had decided that the villain would need several rounds of treatment with the special serum before All For One’s quirk would be completely transferred. There was no way to know what damage had already been done to Shigarak’s body after the violent reaction he’d had to the first dose of the serum, so the thought of putting him through the process repeatedly was greatly disturbing to you. When you’d agreed to work with Dr. Garaki in the beginning, you couldn’t have predicted you’d end up participating in this sort of human experimentation.

You look up from the manuscript you’d been reading when you hear the sound of your name being called from the doorway. Of course, it was Simon, the undergrad research assistant you’d been helping before all the madness in your life had stolen your focus. “Your writing has improved,” You hold up the stack of papers before standing up to greet him properly.

“Thanks!” He says appreciatively, “It’s so good to see you again. We’ve missed you.” Before you could respond to the sweet words, he adds on another question. “Where’s Hawks?” You click your tongue, pretending to be annoyed.

“Is that all you guys care about?” You tease the kid while nudging his shoulder and glancing up at the clock to check the time. Simon looks embarrassed and apologizes sheepishly. “Don’t worry,” You wave off his concern while leading him back out into the lobby. “He should be here soon. I’ll introduce you to him.”

“He’s already here!” your boss’ voice comes out a little more high pitched than normal, apparently already flustered by the presence of your handsome boyfriend. Seeing him standing at the front desk with her brought back memories of when you’d first met him, and you could vividly recall being taken aback by his charming smile, bright red wings, and playful golden eyes as well. The moments you’d spent with him recently though were always short and stressful, so it was nice to have the freedom now to take a step back and really appreciate him again.

“Oh my god!” Simon whispers with his eyes wide in awe and you can’t help but laugh.

“I never took you for such a hero fanboy,” you tell him seriously.

“I’m not!” He replies while pointing both hands out at your boyfriend, “But it’s HAWKS!”

“Yes, it is,” you agree with amusement evident in your voice before looking to the winged man in question. “Hey bird-kun! How was the flight?”

“Not bad!” He smiles and pulls you over for a side hug, “But I missed you!” The comment earns a lighthearted laugh from you and you look up into his face to see a brightness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a while. You realize that being here, away from both his hero and villain duties, was just as liberating for him as it was for you. Even though his wings were still bugged and people were still monitoring his every action, there was a sense of calm knowing you weren’t being rushed to exchange any secret messages or worry about either of you being called back to work suddenly.

“You saw me this morning,” you reach up and pat his cheek with a smile before turning your focus back to the others standing around you. “This is Simon, by the way. He missed you the few times you were here before, and he’s been dying to meet you.”

“Hey Simon!” Hawks puts on his award winning grin before offering a gloved hand to the young man who had a weird look on his face as he glanced between you and the hero in front of him.

“Did you just call him… bird-kun?” The disturbed look on his face over hearing you address someone he looked up to in such a way makes you feel a little embarrassed which just encourages your boss to start on her antics.

“Well, they are dating,” she reminds the boy. “It’s not unusual that they would use cute nicknames for each other. I’m already excited for the day I get the wedding invitation in the mail.” Both you and Hawks were already used to her weird fascination with your relationship, so the inappropriate commentary didn’t really effect either of you at this point.

“Uh, right.” Simon puts an end to the weirdness by taking Hawks’ hand and shaking it once. “Thanks for being cool and protecting people and stuff.” Hawks thanks him for his support and Simon looks thrilled just to have the hero speaking to him at all. Technically, Hawks should’ve probably taken the chance to talk about the ideals of ‘quirk liberation’ that he was supposed to be spreading for the villains, but you were glad that he was holding back and giving you both the chance to live life normally for a change.

“Hey! Nobody has to go to work or school tomorrow right?” Hawks suddenly asks with an excited look on his face. “How about a fun evening out together on me?” You could tell by the looks on both your boss and Simon’s faces that they were already sold.

“What kind of fun evening?” You ask.

“Hmm,” Hawks puts a hand to his chin in thought. “How about dinner at that curry shop you took me to before, and then karaoke?”

“Okay!” Your boss agrees instantly and hops off to start closing up the facility for the day.

“You can sing?” You question him, feeling almost nervous to let loose too much after all the pressure you’d been under to stay in control of your words and actions for so long.

“Obviously! He’s a bird,” Simon was grinning excitedly now too.

“Exactly!” Hawks nods his head before sending you a wink, “I’m a bird.” Even though the action made you a little flustered, it felt nice to see this carefree side of Hawks again. You still worried that there was some ulterior motive behind the both of you having a weekend to yourselves, but you didn’t want to waste this chance to relax.

It turned out a ‘fun evening out’ was just what you’d needed. The owner of the curry shop had been just as pleased to see you again as your boss and Simon, and the familiar taste of the food reminded you that you were safe at home and it put you at ease. You could almost pretend the whole ordeal with the doctor and the villains was a long forgotten memory as you and Simon cried with laughter over seeing your boss teach Hawks the choreography to some weird J-pop song during karaoke. And at the end of the night, as you headed back to the hotel with Hawks’ arm around your shoulders, you couldn’t help but wish things could stay this simple.

“Thanks for suggesting such a great idea bird-kun,” You nuzzle into his side to stifle a yawn and avoid the chill of the winter air as you walk. “I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”

“You work too hard,” he pulls you closer while curving his wings forward to block some of the wind. “It was nice to see you so relaxed and happy tonight. I know your boss and Simon are the people you work with, but I can tell that they’re also your trusted friends.”

“Yeah,” you nod your head in agreement. “I didn’t realize how much I missed seeing them every day.”

“They’re important people in your life,” Hawks says thoughtfully. “I really appreciate having the chance to spend time with them because learning more about the people close to you helps me get to know you a bit better as well.” The tone of his voice makes you wonder what point he was trying to get at.

“You’re an important part of my life too,” you say it just in case he needs that reassurance. “You know that, right?” The smile he sends you looks a bit forced. “Hawks?” It almost seemed like he’d flinched at the sound of his name and suddenly he stops walking and turns to give you his full attention.

“I think I just wish there were close friends and family in my life I could introduce you to,” he shrugs before pulling your face into his hands. “Then you could feel like you’re getting to know me a bit better too.”

You search his eyes for the hidden message you felt he was trying to send you. You didn’t think he was pretending to warn you that he was working for the villains because the look on his face was a bit too genuine for that, plus he would’ve given you a heads up if that was something he’d been planning. The only conclusion you could come to was that there were other things about him that you’d yet to learn. Things he wanted you to know, but was unable to share. It didn’t surprise you since you’d suspected that he was more complicated than he let on from the very first day you’d met him.

A tiny part of you felt hurt that he was still keeping secrets even after everything you’d been through, but the more rational part of your brain told you that you couldn’t hold it against him. Although you had been dating Hawks for a while now and had earned his trust enough to be involved with his undercover mission, that still didn’t change the fact that you hadn’t had many truly private conversations with him. Most of the time you’d spent together in the beginning had been in public settings for work, and you knew his wings had been bugged since before you’d even started working for the doctor. In addition to that, there’d hardly been any time recently for you both to sit down and have a serious talk about your relationship even if either of you had wanted to.

“I love you,” you tell him. It was simple and to the point, so hopefully he’d know not to worry too much about whatever he was concerned about you not knowing. The information he’d given you about his past had always sat a bit strangely with you, but for now you could live with his acknowledgement that there were things you still needed to know. He’d told you before in no uncertain terms that he’d always try to do the right thing, and had even backed up his words by coming to you for help when faced with the task of killing Best Jeanist. Whatever it was he was hiding, it didn’t change the good person you knew he was fundamentally.

“I love you too,” he responds even though there were still traces of uncertainty left in his eyes.

“Then smile!” You reach up and poke his cheek playfully. “Today was a good day!”

“It really was,” he chuckles softly before leaning in to kiss you softly. “Let’s have another one tomorrow.”

“You can bet on it,” you assure him as you continue your walk to the hotel. Hawks seemed to cheer up again after that, and you both were able to spend the rest of the night feeling thankful for what felt like a brief calm before a storm.

#keigo takami x reader #hawks x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #Keigo Takami #Hawks #bnha #mha #cindy's writing

32 notes · View notes

shooter-nobunagun · 3 years

Text

Horny on Main (R-18)

//Random smut time; sort of a continuation from “mind games” AKA Sio discovers Adam’s collection and watches it for herself.

She stared at the DVD in her hands; even though both the title and image were, for all intents and purposes, about as vanilla as you could get, still Sio couldn’t help but blush at the thought of holding such a…lurid piece of material between her hands.

‘Calm down Sio, this is perfectly normal; it’s okay for girls to be interested in this stuff too…’

Gulping, she took one last glance around, as if half-expecting Adam to waltz in any moment—even though she knew for a fact he was currently away on a recon mission and she’d definitely be the first to know when he returned. Though she’d initially chewed him out for watching porn, a part of her curiosity couldn’t help but be piqued; what was it all about, anyway? Growing up in Japan meant the sniper definitely saw more than her fair share of 'adult’ videos and hentai offerings—down to the most depraved, obscene scenarios that bombarded her eyes every time she stepped foot inside Akihabara. And yes, she admitted to occasionally flipping through some more “grown up” fare when browsing the bookstores, though still images (and especially anime style) weren’t the same as live-action.

“B-Besides, I’m his girlfriend, I have a perfectly valid excuse for looking at this, uh, stuff…” she muttered to herself in an attempt to work up her courage. Sio vaguely wondered what Adam’s reaction would be if she ever suggested they watch porn together. Apparently, according to magazines this was a thing couples commonly engaged in, but Sio felt they’d both probably die of embarrassment first before getting turned on.

Which was why she was currently locked away in her (very) private quarters, laptop glowing almost ominously before her as she clumsily shook out the disc, her nerves getting the better of her. “My Own Service Maid”… a photograph of a petite woman in a classic maid outfit graced the cover, looking over her shoulder in either an embarrassed or shameful manner (Sio couldn’t tell) as her skirt was lifted until it reached just underneath her butt.

Sio gulped, then popped in the DVD before she could change her mind. Though her room was pretty soundproof, still she made sure the volume wasn’t too loud; lord knew how she was going to explain away the lewd noises if someone happened to hear. ‘Not that I’m super quiet myself, but hey…’

A couple of obligatory logos and copyright jargon later, Sio found herself almost mesmerized at the scene on her laptop: a young woman in a maid outfit, whom (she assumed) was supposed to be cleaning a mansion, but instead had gotten sidetracked and was now shyly teasing herself with a paintbrush she’d found. The music was distractingly cheesy, and Sio wondered for a moment if all pornos were this low-budget.

“Oh, master, please…I’m so wet, I can’t stand it anymore…”

Sio cringed inwardly at how cliché the lines were, but at the same time, she couldn’t deny her body was starting to heat up. As the maid’s actions started growing bolder, the sniper was definitely starting to feel the tell-tale signs of arousal: nipples perking up against her bra and to her slight shock, a faint, pulsing throb started up between her legs.

‘Whoa, I’m actually getting turned on by porn…and watching a girl, no less…’ Though Sio wasn’t sure if she was queer, she’d definitely had crushes on both genders before—and sometimes wondered if she’d have wound up dating Asao-san, if it weren’t for all the e-gene/DOGOO business and she ended up meeting Adam instead.

“My clit is so hard…I’m getting wet, master…” The maid had shed her panties now and was blatantly masturbating with her legs spread wide, her large chest heaving with desperate pants as the paintbrush was pushed inside her cunt; the maid pumping and stirring the makeshift toy and as juices spilled out, Sio felt something hot stain her own panties.

‘Damn it…I’m really getting wet from this…’ Face flushing with a heady lust, Sio began surreptitiously removing her uniform, not wanting to break out of this strange, trance-like state she was in. As the maid on-screen continued her self-pleasure, Sio felt her own hands mirroring the movements; one hand slipped underneath her shirt to tease her stiff nipples, while the other wriggled inside her panties and Sio couldn’t help but jerk slightly as her fingertips brushed against her clit, which was apparently swollen and already quite sensitive before she even began touching herself.

“Haah, hah…this is, pretty exciting…” Gulping, her she couldn’t help but whine slightly as the finger squeezed inside her own tight slit, now hot and sticky with her own juices as Sio began masturbating to the porn. ‘I wonder why I’m so turned on…is it because, I can do the same things she can on the screen?’ Being able to experience the same type of hedonistic pleasure as the girl in the film…biting her lips, Sio kicked off her panties, now lying half-naked on sheets that were steadily getting soaked as she played with herself.

‘Okay, I can see why people watch AVs…it’s super hot…’ All sorts of naughty thoughts were running through her head as the sniper started panting from her own fingers, nevermind what was happening on her laptop. The camera was now zoomed in to the maid’s crotch, giving Sio an incredibly erotic and detailed view of a perfectly pink, shaven pussy, dripping with so much juices that she had to wonder if it wasn’t staged. ‘Wow, it’s so pink and there’s no hair…I wonder if Adam would like it if I waxed…’ The paintbrush from the beginning of the film had made its return and was now brushing in quick, hard strokes against the maid’s throbbing clit and Sio felt her fingers reaching down to do the same, unconsciously matching the tempo on-screen.

“Ah~ I-I’m going to cum! I can’t take it anymore~!”

“S-Same…” Sio moaned, stimulating her swollen clit as her fingers became increasingly slick. “Hnng...gah, oh god I’m definitely gonna cum soon…” Her back was arching and the knot inside her was tight to the point of almost-pain; she could feel her inner walls clenching and pulsing around her digits, begging for release.

A second later the maid climaxed, squirting everywhere on the floor as she cried for what seemed like forever but Sio wasn’t even paying attention—not when she was being wracked with her own orgasm, so strong it left her gasping between the pulsating waves of pleasure while she kept rubbing her clit, trying to keep the stimulation going for as long as she could. “Ooh~ I-I’m, c, cumming…I’m cumming so hard…!” Moaning, the sniper rolled over on her side, panting for air as she gingerly pressed against her clit, letting the little aftershakes quiver all throughout her body as she lazily thrust inside, feeling her inner muscles pulsate slowly and coating her fingers with her own cum.

“Oh…man. I can’t believe I came that hard…jeeze, I made a mess too,” Sio groaned as she slowly sat up, the DVD having ended long before. Heaving a satisfied sigh, she ejected the disc and put it back into the case, intent on slipping it back into Adam’s ‘secret’ collection before he returned. “Maybe I should apologize to him…I have to admit, that was really hot…”

Though the sniper had just satisfied herself minutes earlier, her libido-hazed brain wondered what other secret goodies lay in her boyfriend’s collection as she now sat in his room… ‘I-I mean, there’s no harm in just taking a look…’ Her face turned a bright red as she pulled out another disc at random, this one with a far more provocative cover than the previous: a buxom woman with her ass lifted into the air, servicing a huge man with her mouth while another pounded from behind.

“Uh, maybe something a little more...tame...”

After browsing around though, Sio could tell that Adam was definitely more than just a little vanilla when it came to the bedroom. Aside from that one threesome DVD, most of them (from what she could tell) seemed to be your standard heterosexual couplings, with some occasional girl-on-girl action. But even then the covers seemed to indicate a more romantic theme, rather than any of those weird, graphically-violent offerings she often saw in hentai. Despite the situation—that is, the sniper hunched over in a corner of her boyfriend’s room secretly perusing his porn stash for herself—Sio couldn’t help the smile on her face and a warm, fluttery feeling in her chest. “Adam...you’re such a sweetheart, deep down...” It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that even his tastes in porn leaned towards the cheesy, romantic kind.

“Ah...how about this one?” A beautiful woman lay on a bearskin rug, completely naked save for a handsome cloak. “Relaxation” the title read, and judging from the short summary on the back, it seemed to be a low-key, romantic morning romp between two lovers. “Seems pretty safe, and kinda romantic...”

Before she knew it Sio was once again seated on a bed, her laptop glowing but this time she was prepared: clothes completely off with the sniper nestled comfortably against Adam’s pillows, his lingering scent adding another layer of arousal aside from the video. ‘Adam...wonder when you’ll be back. I gotta make sure I’m done before he returns...’ Her worries were soon forgotten however, as the video started playing and Sio felt her body ready itself again in anticipation, fingers already lazily fingering her clit throughout the intro.

If it weren’t for the fact the two leads were pretty much naked, Sio might as well have been watching a movie. There was even a decent semblance of a plot, which apparently involved the woman’s lover having just returned from a business trip, and the couple was now getting ready to ‘celebrate’ with some spicy activities. The female actress was certainly much more buxom and voluptuous than the sniper’s own slender build, but at least her breasts didn’t look fake, and to Sio’s surprise there was a shock of matching pubic hair between her legs. It was unusual for porn to feature such ‘natural’ looks, but Sio liked it; it made things more authentic than the usual staged drivel that was often peddled. The male lead though, was built very similarly to Adam: tall and handsome, with ripped muscles and long-ish hair, but as the two actors got down and busy, she could see he was gentle, too.

“Damn, I guess I really do have a thing for muscles...” She groaned, easily transposing Adam’s face onto the actor’s impressive body. She never really noticed but after getting together with Adam, Sio realized that whenever she saw a well-muscled body, she couldn’t help but stare and admire them. Newton had caught her once pouring over a risqué magazine spread, and gently teased the sniper about her ‘muscle fetish’.

“I-It’s not a fetish! Is it a crime to look at buff guys or something... Besides, how can it be a fetish if I’m grossed out by those macho, body-building types?” Sio put the magazine down in a huff, embarrassed at having been caught indulging in her fantasies.

“Even so, it seems pretty obvious what your type is, no? And that is, men with well-defined bodies.” Jess purred, opening the mag right back to the spread on that year’s promising male athletes. “I noticed you seem to forgo the slender, ‘pretty boy’ type your country’s manga is so famous for...”

“I-I, th-that’s not—”

“Don’t be shy, Sio! I think it’s cute. It’s good to know what you want and don’t want. Lucky for you then, that Adam keeps up with his training, hmm?”

Sio walked out of the room with her face in a furious blush and an urgent need for some ‘alone time’.

Luckily for her the camera was an equal opportunist, giving the sniper abundant shots of both the male and female actors. Especially as the foreplay on the screen heated up, the woman now using her well-endowed assets to give her lover a tit-job. Like most porn stars, his penis was clean and bare with no foreskin, but that didn’t stop the sniper’s eyes from following each vigorous thrust, his powerful hips moving like a jackhammer. Although her breasts were nowhere near the size needed to pull this off, there were definitely other places where Adam was able to thrust with almost the same level of ferocity... Sio closed her eyes briefly as she remembered their last tryst, right before he headed off on this current mission. They’d decided to change things up a bit, doing it from behind for once; she could still feel the sensations of his thick cock pounding away inside her, fists clenching the sheets as she held on for dear life. When she finally woke up the next day, her nether regions were still aching tenderly, and during her shower she discovered (to her dismay) his hands had left some minor bruises along her hips. Still, it’d been worth it to be fucked completely, utterly senseless like that. Despite his brash attitude, Sio discovered it usually took a bit of coaxing on her part to convince Adam to not hold back—though she knew a part of it stemmed from his fear of hurting her again.

“Kiyaaa! You came so much...”

“That’s because your tits are too gorgeous, babe.”

She opened her eyes again just in time to see the man cum all over the woman’s face and breasts, the sticky, white liquid looking so much like icing. Her inner walls tightened and she took a break, licking her fingers as the leads exchanged some dialogue and actually moved the plot along. “Mmm...it tastes more sour today...oh well.” With her fingers now well-lubricated with her own saliva, she resumed thrusting a finger in and out, keeping the pace steady as she felt herself getting wetter. Especially as man’s statuesque backside filled the computer screen and she gave a slight moan, wishing Adam was here instead.

“Adam...I want to touch your body...” A hand reached up to massage her breast; using slow, gentle circles until her nipple perked into a sensitive, pink point. Those sexy six-pack abs, his chiseled ass and the cords of steel muscles running between his shoulders...whining about the lack of his presence, Sio continued touching herself, casually glancing at the muscles on-screen and thinking about Adam’s instead. This guy was definitely strong; she could tell by the way his biceps rippled while he spread the girl’s legs, preparing to eat her out. The view zoomed in to the girl’s crotch, all slick and wet with cum and saliva as the man’s tongue flicked about her sizable clit.

‘I wish Adam was doing that to me right now...’ Feminine cries soon echoed from the speakers, Sio ignoring pretty much everything but the actual on-screen action. Her fingers rubbed her clit a little harder as the woman started shaking from the impending orgasm, Sio getting an eyeful of gushing as her own core started throbbing. “N-Nng...uhhn, I’m getting close...” Her own juices were already making a sizable stain on the sheets as she thrust her fingers in and out, making sure to pay special attention to her little pearl. “Mmmph...it’s good...oh man, my clit feels so good...it’s so sensitive, i-if I keep going, I’m definitely, gonna...!” Her stomach was clenching as the actress reached a climax, screaming and squirting everywhere. Wishing she’d had the foresight to bring her vibrator, instead the sniper made do with her own fingers, sticking them inside and letting her walls convulse around them as she desperately humped her hand—rubbing all around the hood, underneath, even pinching the nub slightly as her hips jolted.

“Nnngg...uhhn, it’s coming...!” Thrusting her hips into the air, Sio felt the first twinges of her orgasm start pulsing through, before everything slammed down and she fell back onto the bed, jerking unevenly as she kept up the stimulation, rubbing her clit every so often and shivering from the smaller quakes. “Oooh...god, it’s so good...!” The fingers inside her were slick and sticky with her own fluids, the inner muscles still pulsing strongly as she tried to ride it out for as long as she could. Her head was buzzing with a bit of static sound, the actors’ voices strangely muffled as she gasped for breath, gently massaging her stiff breasts and patting her damp, sensitive crotch as the high slowly receded.

“Damn...I can’t believe that felt so good...man, does porn really make this better...?” She gazed down at her hand, which definitely needed a good washing. “I can’t believe I’m still thinking about continuing...why am I so horny today all of a sudden...” This was her second masturbation session in the span of an hour, and the film was barely at the halfway point. She glanced at the door, and then at the screen again, which now showed the couple getting ready for the ‘main event’.

‘Might as well...I’ve got time...’ Besides, just watching a few more minutes of the porn turned her on again, Sio feeling herself getting wet. She gently stroked her pink clit, careful to not be too rough as she was still sensitive from earlier; still, pleasant shivers ran up and down her spine as she lay in a tangle of sheets.

The couple in the video were really going at it, now. Loud, lewd sounds were coming from the speakers and Sio gingerly turned it down just a touch, though a finger remained on her clit, swirling and teasing it until she once again felt the small shivers of an impending climax. The sniper bit her lip and dug back into the pillows, fingers stirring her insides and spreading the sticky nectar all around. This one wasn’t going to be quite as explosive as the previous one, but the pleasure was building up at a solid, steady rate. The sniper spared a glance at the screen, which showed the male literally hammering away at his lover, his balls slapping with reckless abandon as their juices squelched all over. Biting her lips, Sio started thrusting faster, mesmerized by the action and her own anticipation of what was about to happen. That moment right before the peak, what it felt like to hang onto the edge before tipping over... The couple in the film was getting closer and so was she.

“Nnng...ha, haah, ahn...!” Her eyes closed as the first powerful rush of pleasure cascaded over; the familiar pinpricks of electricity, then a burst of heat that shook her to her very core. Sio gasped for air as the waves gradually subsided, gently running her fingers between her wet thighs.

She lay there, catching her breath and watching with hooded eyes at the rest of the film. Sometime during her climax, the couple in the DVD had finished as well, and now they were engaged in some fluffy pillow-talk across the bearskin rug from the cover. She was wondering when they heck they made the transition to the floor when the door suddenly opened, Sio looking up in shock; it was too late to do anything though and unfortunately, the afterglow made her too relaxed to move.

“Sio? What in th...” The room’s owner was staring wide-eyed at her, cheeks rapidly flushing as he took in the scene before him.

“A-Adam! Uh, t-tadaima...” Sio smiled weakly at her boyfriend, a nervous giggle escaping her lips as she half-heartedly tried to cover her bare, dripping crotch. “U-Um, you’re back...”

“...Yes...okaeri,” Adam answered on instinct, still trying to comprehend just what the hell was going on. Clearly, the sniper had been enjoying some personal time, but why his room? And more importantly, just what exactly was the open laptop for? Before he could say anything else though, the ending credits started playing, and Adam instantly recognized the cheesy outro of a very particular porn title.

He took a very deep breath.

“...Alright, I’m not even gonna ask what the bloody hell’s going on.” He dropped the duffel to the floor, not sure how to react or where to begin. “There a, reason you decided to commandeer my bed in particular? And my...entertainment, for that matter?”

Sio squirmed uncomfortably, not sure if Adam was peeved or just confused. Or a combination of both. Granted, this was not the first time he’d caught her while masturbating unawares—even though all those instances had been unintentional, she wondered if there was someone up there who just liked them to be in compromising situations—but this time, he’d caught her watching porn as well.

And right after she’d chewed him out for it, to boot.

‘Yikes...talk about eating my own words...’

Adam remained silent, only a white brow raised in a questioning manner as he stood next to the bed, arms crossed. He tapped his foot and tilted his head to the side, as if to ask ‘well?’

“Erm, I...I’m sorry, Adam...I-I was curious about, you know—p porn,” he didn’t say anything, but merely nodded, “a-and I...couldn’t help it; I know I made such a big fuss before, but...then I started wondering what it really was all about, anyway, and then...u-um...” Her voice started quivering and a wave of guilt washed over her, the realization of just what she’d done hitting her full-on. She didn’t even finish her explanation before a sob choked out, and the next thing she knew tears were falling, the sniper crying and wiping her tears haphazardly. “I-I’m, s-s-sorry...!”

She couldn’t look him in the eyes, not like this; why did she always do things without really thinking them through? ‘I really am such an idiot at times; some strategist I am,’ Sio thought glumly, it was a wonder Adam still put up with her antics. The bed creaked as Adam sat down and gently closed the laptop lid, pulling her into his lap.

“...Oh Sio.” He sighed, not saying much else but instead brushed her hair back. “...Sometimes I just...don’t quite know what to make of you, y’know?” He wiped her tears with his sleeve, before handing her a tissue for her nose. “While I am rather indignant at the fact that you had the gall to tell me off for indulging in smut, only to turn right around and sneak about my collection,” Sio winced, “I’m more wound up about the fact that you felt you couldn’t talk to me about this.” His face was not angry, but she could tell from his gaze that he was serious. “I can understand why you were upset at first—but if you really were curious, couldn’t you have just asked me about it?”

His words made her feel even worse, Sio needing a few more minutes of quiet tears before she regained enough composure. “I...I-I know...and I’m sorry I said all that...” A shudder ran down her as she tried to calm down. “It...wasn’t intentional; but sometimes, I just miss you a lot...a-and I feel, really...” Sio squirmed, burning with shame at her behavior, “...I swear, it feels like I can’t control it sometimes—I-I just, get so...horny...it’s like I can’t think straight...”

“...And so, in your, uh...lust-induced haze, you...decided to impulsively watch my porn?”

“...I’m sorry...I’m such a terrible person—!”

Sio squeaked as Adam flipped her onto the bed, hovering over her with a stern expression on his face. “Y’know, I really wish you’d stop ragging on yourself like that; for the last time, Sio Ogura, you are not a terrible person or anything of that sort. I thought we made that clear already...” A hand reached down and gently stroked her cheek, Sio shivering from such a simple gesture. “You’re the one I care about the most—the most important thing to me, ever. So to hear you think of yourself in such a, a...disparaging manner...it hurts me too, you know.”

“Adam...” His tenderness towards her could be even more overwhelming than his physical touch, sometimes. “I, I’m...I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I guess I just feel really stupid for blowing up at you, and now I’m eating my own words...” Sio couldn’t help but blush at her own blunder. “I’m...sorry I was so harsh about you watching porn...at the time, i just didn’t know what to make of it...I guess I overreacted a bit,” she heard Adam mutter under his breath ‘a bit?’, “b-but, now that I’ve...done the same, I...change my mind.” She swallowed thickly; even though Sio did feel bad about berating Adam, her pride still took a blow. “I...I’m fine if you want to watch porn in your own time. Especially when I’m not around...I miss you a lot, too...so I’m sorry...”

The room was silent for a bit, Sio wishing she could just crawl under a rock and wallow in shame. Adam meanwhile, had a rather peculiar expression on his face as he attempted to take this all in stride. Even now, it struck him at how Sio was able to surprise him, time and time again. Perhaps not all surprises were particularly pleasant, but it kept him on his toes.

“Well...I appreciate your apology, Sio Ogura. And I respect your humility in keeping an open mind.” To be fair, he’d been prepared to basically give it up if it meant keeping her happy, but with this sudden turn of events...perhaps a god existed, after all. “In that case, I...wouldn’t object to you watching my, stuff...or if you wanted to, y’know,” at this he blushed to the very roots of his white hair, “...watch something together...”

Sio’s eyes grew wide as saucers at that suggestion. ‘This is exactly what those magazines said...! So it is actually a couple thing...’ Her body flushed hotly as her eyes swept over to the unassuming set of discs on the shelf.

“W, Well...I-I, have to admit I’d be curious to try it...” Adam raised an eyebrow at her bold response, “I-I mean, I’m just saying I’ve read about it and since I...was so rude to you and all—” Sio’s arms were flailing all over the place, the sniper in a bit of a panic at everything that had happened in the past 10 minutes. As if the situation wasn’t already awkward enough, but at least Adam seemed to have forgiven her for sneaking around his room and using his material.

“Also, I’m...still kind of horny...” Sio gave a nervous laugh, anxiously crossing her legs in an attempt to hide her wet thighs.

Both of them blushed beet red at the implications.

“M-Maybe, you can recommend something? N-Not anything extreme but just...I dunno, one of your...favorites?”

Adam was so stunned you could have pushed him over with a feather. Here was his girlfriend, who was usually so shy and stuttering and prone to nosebleeds whenever he got too close, now sitting on his bed half-naked and proposing he choose some smut for both of them. He gave a small nod, before going through his collection.

A few minutes later a case landed on the bed, the sniper craning her neck to read the text. “An Openly-Exposed Hot Spring...” Sio raised an eyebrow at the name. “A...voyeuristic title?” She gave him a side eye.

“Hey now, don’t judge a book by its cover; it’s actually not what it seems—well, not all of it anyway. And besides, you’re one to talk, Miss High School Peeping Tom,” he gave her just as pointed a glance back.

Sio groaned. “Oh come on, that was an accident! You’re never gonna let that go, are you,” she groused.

“Considering you made no attempts to look away, no I’m not going to let you forget that anytime soon.” Adam replied evenly. Sio grumbled, but she couldn’t deny it. “Well then, if you wouldn’t mind budging up a bit there, squirt...”

She scooted to the side, Adam sighing as he climbed onto the bed. There was a moment of hesitation as he eyed the damp spots, but then shrugged and sat down. “So that explains the laptop, I guess...”

“Er, yeah...sorry...actually, I...already watched another one earlier...b-before I even came to your room...”

Adam nearly choked on his own spit at Sio’s sheepish revelation. “Wh-What?! You what? Wait, did you just say you...watched more than one?”

“...Yes...sorry...”

“I-I uh, well...alright, sure. ‘S fine...I guess...” Adam gave a resigned shrug. His brain was basically on overload at this point from the myriad of things he’d learned about the sniper in the past couple of minutes. Not that it was bad, mind you, just...definitely surprising. Including the fact that apparently, the sniper had one hell of a sex drive. “So...out of curiosity, which one did you...choose?”

“Uh, it was like the service maid one...”

‘The solo female one...?’ While he’d always suspected, the fact that Sio admitted to watching and masturbating to a woman...

“...So, I see you’re a woman of culture, too...” The sniper blushed and covered her face. “By the way, don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but...are you, perchance, also attracted to girls?”

“E-Eh? Uh, hmm...” The sniper was caught off-guard by the sincerity of his question. “...To be honest, I’ve never really thought about it much, but...now that you say it, maybe? I mean thinking on it now, I did have crushes on girls when I was younger...but I didn’t realize it as such.”

Adam nodded. “Sure, that makes sense. Do you consider yourself...bisexual then? I-I don’t mean anything by it, just curious is all.”

Sio blinked. “Bi...sexual? What’s that?”

“It means you’re attracted to both genders, male and female.”

The girl sat with her finger on her chin, deep in thought. “I...dunno. I’m not sure I’d say that right now, since it’s not something I’m really familiar with...but, it is possible. Or, I guess maybe I am queer, to some extent...” She shrugged. “Hey, who knows, right? Maybe I’ll figure it out later on.”

Adam couldn’t help but smile. “Sure, love. Anywho, apologies for that odd line of questioning, but...it just seemed like something that was likely. Guess you could say curiosity killed the cat.” Without another word he popped in the disc, Sio nervously squirming underneath the covers as the disc started playing.

‘I can’t believe this is actually happening...’

The first couple of minutes were wrought with silence, save for the incredibly stilted, canned dialogue coming from the video. Sio could hardly look at Adam, much less try anything, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. Maybe it was too soon to be engaging in something like this, when she’d barely just watched her first porn.

Swallowing her nervousness, Sio turned her attention to the screen. Some hapless milquetoast office worker had found a hole in the wall separating the two baths, and was now peeping on a seemingly-deserted women’s bath—save for one buxom bather. Naturally, the peeper started jerking himself off as he discovered this opportunity, his cock growing stiffer and Sio blushed the camera made it clear that this pervert was well endowed.

“Well, I suppose if nobody’s around...”

The camera switched and now it was the lady’s turn to indulge in some self-care. Fingers plunged into her swollen pussy lips, the water churning and splashing as the actress on screen fingered herself with abandon. As the action continued the sniper felt her own core tighten, as it always did when she was aroused.

‘Oh boy...I’m getting turned on...’

“U-Um...sorry about this...b, but I’m kind of, uh...” She noticed his face turn slightly in her direction, “my body...” Her insides pulsed again as the moans from the video got louder, forcing Sio to rub her thighs together to ease the pressure somewhat.

“If you need to...relieve yourself, feel free; that’s kind of the point of this.” Still, even with Adam’s encouragement her fingers stopped at her mound, unable to bring herself to actually go through. Especially since Adam himself remained so still she had to check to see if he was breathing.

“...Man, this is...awkward...m-maybe we shouldn’t do this...” On one hand, she was still fairly aroused, but on the other, this bizarre situation was kind of killing the mood. “I just...I don’t know, it feels weird..” Maybe it was the video, or maybe it was the fact that, despite being together, Sio still considered masturbating to be a private activity.

The video continued playing for a few minutes, both holders sitting in an incredibly strained silence as they watched the peeper now crawling over the fence and getting it on with the female bather. ‘Ugh, I’d rather just have Adam do that to me instead of watching...wait...’ She gave a surreptitious glance to her left; Adam looked so placid she wouldn’t be surprised if he started taking a nap.

“A-Ano, Adam...?” He twitched as she gently poked his shoulder, but nodded, “u-um, I have an idea...”

“...Yeh? You wanna stop?”

Sio shook her head. “N-No—well if this doesn’t do anything then we might as well—but, since I feel really awkward doing this to myself, c-can, could you...” she took a deep breath, “d, do the same thing to me as...the video? I-I think, I’d...prefer it if you touch me instead.”

“...Ah.” Leave it to Sio to come up with a solution, despite being more inexperienced; Adam supposed she wasn’t now head strategist for nothing. “In that case...” Taking off his jacket, he handily lifted the girl into his lap, aware of the wetness still coating her thighs. “So, like this, ‘ey?” His voice took on a mischievous tone as he slid a finger down, right into her tight slit—same as the video. A whimper from the sniper told him all he needed to know; turning the volume down a tad, he leaned in closer, holding her tight against him as his finger started pumping in and out. “My my, we’ve ourselves a rather naughty little Kitty-chan today, don’t we? First you go sneaking about my personal belongings, then you finger-fuck yourself on my bed...and you still aren’t satisfied?” His hot breath fanned the shell of her ear and Adam felt the sniper quiver, her inner walls sucking his digit in until it was buried to the knuckle. “Tsk tsk, you really are quite the pervert, aren’t you?”

“A-Ahhn...ahn, I-I, I’m—aah—sorry—!” Sio momentarily forgot about the video as Adam started to finger her, all the while whispering incredibly dirty words into her ear. He rarely got in the mood like this, but sometimes the ‘Jack’ persona would come out, if she pushed him far enough. “I, know I’m a pervert...I can’t help it, you feel too good...” Right as she said that his fingers plunged straight to her g-spot, Sio crying out from the sensitivity. “Ah—! Ah, oh god, it feels too good...m-my insides, it’s so hot...!” Breathy moans soon overtook the video’s dialogue, Sio glancing between the on-screen action and Adam’s hand that was working her sopping cunt. “Nng...A, Adam, m-my clit, too...”

“Oh? So demanding, Kitty-chan,” he teased, but obliged with his other hand; Sio let out a loud moan as he pinched the pink nub. “So, how’s this working out? Better?” Now that he was actually touching her, the video seemed less distracting and more like a background mood-setter, especially with the way they were almost mirroring the on-screen action. “You’re soaked...”

Sio couldn’t even muster a response, instead nodding as she panted from the stimulation. ‘So hot; everything is so hot...’ She massaged her small breasts, rubbing the stiff points between her fingers that caused her to arch her back. “Haaaahnn...it’s too good...! When you touch me like this... It feels amazing...your, fingers...!” She moaned and bit her hand in an attempt to not completely lose control, though it was difficult when Adam was scissoring her insides while teasing her clit. Sometimes it boggled her mind how such a small, seemingly insignificant little part of her body could unleash such pleasure when stimulated the right way. Though Sio was happy that Adam appreciated her breasts no matter how small they were, she wouldn’t deny her favorite place was that small, secret bud between her legs: a delicate pink that was now flushed a deep red and swollen with arousa. Drops of nectar leaked out and down onto the sheets, nevermind his trousers that were now stained.

“That makes me quite chuffed to hear, love,” he licked her ear and she squealed, “seems my dear Kitty-chan always has some devious ideas up her sleeve...” Hot nectar flowed down his hand and onto the sheets, Sio moaning as he curled his fingers inside to stroke her g-spot. Her cries were almost synced with that of the video at times, Adam having nearly forgotten about it—he casually glanced at the laptop, where the ‘hero’ of the show was now also fucking the actress into oblivion. Such deviant behavior...but, there was no way he could deny how hard it made him, given how readily Sio admitted porn turned her on.

“Nnngg! How...does it feel...so, good...!” Panting, Sio fell against Adam’s broad chest, needing a bit of a break from all the stimulation; Adam sensed this and his fingers slowed inside her, though not completely stopping, lazily thrusting in and out. When her sex drive kicked in, it really went into overdrive. At first it was scary how high her libido was; it seemed like every other moment she was thinking about having sex, either with Adam or simply masturbating by herself—as often as two or even three times a day. But gradually, it did balance itself out. Though sex was still a major and integral part of their relationship, so too was the emotional support they provided for one another.

Screeching akin to a banshee’s wail grabbed both their attentions, as the porn reached the final act. The ex-peeper now furiously bounced the woman in his lap with white cum squelching out, all the while accompanied by the strangely-cheerful, elevator music background track. Ignoring the dissonance between the screaming and the soundtrack, Adam focused on the action itself.

“M-Mmnn...mou, Adam you stopped...” The sniper pouted as the fingers removed themselves, her gaping hole squeezing itself in an attempt to alleviate the tension. Love juices sluiced down her thighs as Sio made an effort to wipe them up, though she was largely unsuccessful.

“Now love, just be patient...” He smirked and Sio recognized that mischievous tone. It was cocky and sure, much like when he became Jack the Ripper—but in the bedroom, that could only mean one thing... A second later something hot and stiff prodded against her slick entrance and Sio yelped in surprise.

“A-Adam...! Y, You, you’re...” She whined as Adam started slowly but firmly push himself into her tight cavern, though being so wet helped a great deal to ease his thick length inside her. “Ahhnn—it, it won’t fit like this! This angle...are you sure it won’t just fall out?”

Grunting, Adam shifted his hips upwards, Sio squealing as he grabbed her supple thighs and pulled them apart to help him gain more ground. “Oy love, we’ve not even started and you’re already having doubts? Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, isn’t that what they say?” Using his strength, he slowly lifted the sniper up and down; in and out, empty then filled as Sio cried from the sensations and writhed in his grip. “Would appreciate it if you would have a tad more faith, Sio.”

“I-I’m not, it’s not...ahn, aah...” Panting, Sio could hardly think of what to say, let alone speak the words. Adam’s cock filled her up in the most satisfying of ways, as her walls finally squeezed around something warm and stiff, instead of emptiness. “I, I’m just saying...i-if you slip out, it might kill the mood...ahn!” A particularly forceful thrust from the silver-haired man, as if to prove her wrong.

“Then I won’t. Simple as that.” Sio had no more quips left as Adam increased his pace, just like the film. The only audible voices now were coming from the video, as both holders were too focused on breathing to even moan or cry out. As Adam settled into a steady grip and good rhythm, she reached one hand down to lavish her clit with overdue attention. Her insides instantly tightened from the stimulation; electricity shot up her spine as she unconsciously struggled against Adam’s hold. Behind her, she heard him grunt slightly as she squeezed him, though the extra friction felt delicious.

“Aah, I’m cumming...iku, iku...!” The porn was about to come to the end, judging from the scene and the timer winding down. At this point, Sio wouldn’t be surprised if they came right after—both of them were getting desperately close, especially as she continued to fondle and tease her swollen clit. She whined through her teeth as her fingers pushed the hood back, rubbing the sensitive nub directly and pinching it lightly.

“Nnngg! C-Crap, it feels too good...my clit, it’s always so sensitive...!” With Adam thrusting deep inside her and occasionally hitting the edge of her cervix, her own hands pleasuring her body all over, Sio felt the faint pulses start to converge in her core. “O-Oh...d, dame, Adam...I, I think I’m gonna...I’m close...”

“Hah, hah...is that so...” Hot breaths fanned her cheek, Adam himself feeling the tripwire tighten inside as well. His height allowed him to peek over Sio’s shoulder, and watching the sniper please herself was much more erotic than any porno that could be playing. Her bra was crumpled above her breasts, and her panties had long disappeared somewhere amongst the sheets, nevermind their uniforms scattered carelessly on the floor. In public, she was still terribly shy about anything remotely sexual, but behind closed doors, she could let her guard down and be herself. Knowing she trusted him enough to shamelessly show him how she masturbated was even more of a turn-on than the whole ‘fuck while watching porn’, honestly.

“Oooohh...I-I’m, I can’t anymore...” Her head sank back into his shoulder as Adam felt her walls start spasming a bit.

“Hnn...’s that so...” The video was close to the end too, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the timer. “I wonder, who will finish first...us, or—haah—that daft video...” He heard Sio gulp as she realized his words. “So love, think you can...hold out just a touch longer?”

“W-Well, when you—aah—put it that way...h-how can I not...” Sio bit back a moan as she renewed her efforts to hold back her orgasm, though that was a bit like trying to stop a landslide with a shovel. “H-How much...hnn!” Her clit gave another throb, as if actively trying to sabotage her efforts. “N-No, stop...my body, it’s...!”

The girl in his arms trembled, Adam reducing his pace to help her draw it out. Even though it was tempting to just ignore everything else and thrust until they were completely spent, that stupid video seemed to be goading him on, even though it was entirely fictional... “Hnnngg...j-just, a little more...there’s a good girl, Sio...”

In. Out. Empty. Full. ‘Oh god...I don’t know if I can do this...! I just wanna cum...!’ Besides, Sio was getting tired--and judging by the tremors in Adam’s arms each time he lifted her, so was he. He may have had genetically-enhanced strength, but he wasn’t a tireless robot. Moaning, she stared at the numbers on the screen, trying not to think too hard about anything other than how good everything felt; her own hands fondling her breast and nipples, then giving some tender touch to her nub, Adam’s penis thrusting into her at a good pace and hitting all the right spots each time... Hearing his gasps and grunts, feeling his sweat-slicked skin pressed against her back as his strong arms supported her was just as enticing as well. Sio felt herself drooling slightly from all the exquisite sensations assaulting her senses.

“Kyaaaaaa!! Iku! Ikuuuuuuuu!!” The fake onscreen couple reached their limit; after that, the laptop was completely ignored. Adam’s grip tightened on her thighs as he thrust into her with a desperate vigor; Sio rubbed her clit in the tight, fast circles that she always used to bring herself to a roaring orgasm.

“Haaah! Aah! Nngg! Hnn!” Adam’s thrusts drove like a piston against her slick walls, kissing against the entrance to her womb each time. “Oooh...I-I’m—mmmmnn—c, cumming!” Panting so hard her tongue stuck out like a dog’s, Sio felt her orgasm crash through like a runaway train. A single, long wail tore from her throat, her climax hitting so hard her eyes nearly rolled to the back of her head while the rest of her body twitched and jerked. A burst of juices gushed from her hole, dripping all over Adam’s crotch and onto already-soaked bed as she continued to squirt, even as her orgasm slowly tapered.

“Holy...fuck...” Adam wasn’t sure which was more impressive: the strength of his orgasm, or Sio’s. The girl was practically slathered in fluids—saliva, sweat and a generous amount of their mixed cum—panting and completely limp in his lap. His own climax had been just as mind-blowing, especially after hearing the video finish first; Sio’s walls squeezed him mercilessly as the girl herself cried and pushed back against him. He opened one eye wearily as he felt something drip down this leg, only to see a thick glob of white spunk, mixed with Sio’s nectar, slowly make their way down via gravity. He groaned and sank into the pillows, too tired to even pull his softening member out. The entire room smelled ripe with sweat and the musky odor of their voracious sex, and vaguely Adam thought about a shower.

“Ooooh...god, that was...haaahh,” Sio had no words to describe the pleasure she felt as she slowly came down from her high. “Oh man, you came so much...I’m overflowing...” Wincing, she gently lifted herself off, Adam finally pulling out of her with a slight ‘pop’. “Urg...I’m definitely gonna feel this tomorrow...”

“Speak for yourself; christ Sio, you’re just...I don’t, I’m just...” As the sniper turned towards him with wide, guilty eyes, he regretted his words. “W-Wait, I didn’t mean anything bad by that—”

“—S-Sorry, I’m such a pervert...I, I know I can be...insatiable at times,” Adam coughed slightly as this, “s, so, I’m...glad you still put up with me...”

“Oh Sio...” Adam couldn’t help but smile slightly as he pulled her into a hug. “You know I’d never hold that against you. That being said, I’m...amazed at your, er...appetite, at times...” Adam was pretty sure if he weren’t an e-gene holder, he’d be worn out by now. He gave her a simple kiss on her forehead. “Remember Sio, I said I love all of you, as you are. And I mean that.”

“Ah, A-Adam...” Now she was shy again, cheeks turning a cute pink as she buried herself into his embrace. “Th, thanks...you’re the best...” Her libido may have been a great source of embarrassment at times, but the amount of pleasure it gave her was enough to make up for it, she decided. His chest rumbled with muffled laughter, causing Sio to blush more, but with happiness.

“...So uh, I take it we’re all cool with the AV thing then?” Adam cautiously broached the topic. “You’re fine with me watching, uh, my stuff and all that? Granted, you’re welcome to it too, now.”

Sio nodded shyly. “Y-Yeah, honestly you should do whatever you want in your private time. I’m really sorry I freaked out the first time...th, thanks for being so chill about everything...” She poked the sheets, too embarrassed to look at him in the eyes. “A-And also, th, thanks for your um, generosity...I promise I’ll keep it a secret between us...”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “What, the fact that we both enjoy porn?” Sio squeaked and he rolled his eyes slightly. “My dear Kitty-chan, you do realize this is quite common, right? I appreciate your consideration in keeping it on the down-low, but there’s no need to pretend otherwise.” He patted her on the head and she looked up with red cheeks. “Feel free to enjoy yourself, Sio.”

“Un...Adamu suki...” He really was the best, the sniper decided. ‘Who’d’ve ever thought I’d get such an amazing boyfriend...thanks for something at least, Invasion Objects.’

Yawning, Sio proceeded to crawl underneath the tangled sheets, her body now demanding some measure of rest after what she put it through. Next to her, she heard Adam shutting the laptop and putting it off to the side. before sliding underneath. She sighed as strong arms spooned her against his broad chest, eyes closing before her head even settled on the pillow.

Yeah, adult videos weren’t that bad after all...in fact they could be good...very good, indeed.

#my sweetest one #//lmao why do i always take so long between start and finish #//literally went on for way too long #//can't write a short and concise when i need to #//then when i need to make full chapters it doesn't happen #//y #//hot times ahead

2 notes · View notes

random-thought-depository · 4 years

Text

The Star Trek TOS episode Space Seed was on TV Saturday; the episode with Khan (the genetically engineered “superman” Khan, not the guy who built Data Khan).

And a thought occurred to me. So, in the episode they comment on how Khan has “magnetism” and he’s portrayed as charismatic and seductive (both in the sexual/romantic sense and in the more general sense). Personally I didn’t really see the appeal, he seemed like basically just an unpleasant violent narcissist to me, but then I guess some people are into that; I guess he might appeal to the sort of person who really likes Donald Trump.

But I had a thought... OK, Khan is supposed to be a genetically engineered “superman,” created to be superior to ordinary humans; stronger, smarter, etc.. And a lot of physical attractiveness is features that indicate health and genetic fitness. So maybe Khan would look unnaturally handsome. Like, maybe he has super-symmetrical facial features and absolutely perfect skin and teeth and he moves with the speed and grace of a natural Olympic-level athlete and Julliard-level dancer and so on. He doesn’t look that way to me, but we can apply the logic fans have applied to Klingon foreheads and the rubber suit Gorn in TOS and assume what we see on the screen is an imperfect reflection of what Khan “really” looks like. Maybe a lot of Khan’s charisma is just halo effect from him being unnaturally handsome! He has such a big ego and is so proud of his own cleverness and “natural leader” personality traits, I think it’d be funny if a lot of his charisma is really something stupid like that and he’s smart and observant enough to realize it and deep down it bothers him a little!

Mmm, concept:

It does bother him. He uses it, of course. Charisma is a powerful tool and weapon; to refuse to use it out of petty pride would be foolish. And he really is charismatic in the ways he’s proud of being. He really is smart enough to figure out what makes people tick and use that knowledge to manipulate them. He really does have the drive, ambition, vision, and aggression of a natural conqueror, and people sense that and respond to it. He really does impress people with his intelligence and strength. It’s hard to untangle all this from the boost his charisma gets from his unnatural beauty, and to try is at best a matter of blue sky curiosity, at worst indulging one of his few gnawing goblins of self-doubt. Khan is smart enough to know what his charisma is, and pragmatic enough to use it to its full potential.

Still, deep down it bothers him to think that some of his charisma is something that stupid; to think that a difference of a few millimeters of bone and tissue here and there might have made him less successful. Khan relishes bending people to his will with his mind; knowing that something as stupid as “deep down that person wants to please me because I’m beautiful and it feels good to be liked by a beautiful person” is part of the “recipe” taints his triumph, makes him doubt himself. It’s one of the few sources of self-doubt Khan has.

Not everyone responds to Khan’s unnatural handsomeness the same way. A significant minority are actively repulsed by it; they find him too handsome, too perfect; they find it uncanny valley-ish, creepy. And some people just don’t seem to notice physical attractiveness much, or just don’t seem moved by it. And sometimes people are uncomfortable with the feelings Khan’s unnatural handsomeness creates in them and this makes them hostile to him; that happens especially often with men. Khan relishes dealing with people who don’t respond positively to his beauty, manipulating them, bending their minds and hearts to his will. With them he knows it’s a true match of wits and personality; with them his victory is pure.

On a certain level, deep down, Khan envies people like Adolf Hitler, who were charismatic but physically unattractive. They could be secure in the knowledge that their power came from the strength of their minds. When he was younger he once half-seriously considered mutilating his face or getting plastic surgery to make himself uglier, just to make manipulating people more of a challenge, but that was a foolish idea, and he no longer entertains it with any seriousness.

His fellow “superiors” have the same unnatural beauty, and he sometimes wonders if they have the same feelings about it. He’s discussed the matter with a few who he’s closest to, but it’s not something he talks about much.

He tells himself that people responding to his beauty are just responding to his natural fitness to lead in a roundabout way. He asks himself rhetorically why people desire to please and serve beautiful people, and he answers his own question thus: partly because beauty is correlated with health and genetic fitness, and therefore with intelligence and sanity! This leadership-selection strategy is not conscious, but natural selection has carved it into human behavior at the genetic level. This makes him feel a little better, but still... He knows well how sloppy such intuitive heuristics are, and the idea of owing some of his success to something so loosely connected to the strength of his mind bothers him a little. It bothers him, mildly and secretly but persistently, like a cigarette burn under his shirt.

Sometimes Khan wonders if some beautiful women, Marilyn Monroe for example, felt something like the way he feels. To consider this thought gives him a strange feeling; it makes him feel an empathy based on shared suffering of a sort, and he’s not used to empathizing with normal humans that way.

Khan is good at empathizing with people in the sense of cognitive empathy, of knowing how they think, of course. It’s an important part of his charisma; to manipulate people it really helps to understand them. Some conversation with a normal and observation of them and he can often predict their reactions better than they can. But the sort of empathy that comes from shared suffering ... he’s not used to feeling that toward normals. He’s really not used to feeling it toward anybody, because he’s experienced very little suffering. There was the suffering of defeat at the end of the Eugenics Wars, of course, and ... that was about it. He grew up pampered and privileged, surrounded by his creators, who treated him like a prince and told him he was special, better than most people, the next step in human evolution. He had tremendous power and privilege for most of his life. His perfect body has only ever known two kinds of pain, injury-pain (rarely) and exhaustion-pain (mostly only mildly); he has never felt a headache or a back-ache or anything like that, he has never been sick. Even the suffering of defeat was mostly an abstract intellectual and emotional pain; only at the very end was he in any sort of direct physical danger. He has been in battle, he fought hand-to-hand during the coup that first brought him to power and during the chaotic last days before he fled from Earth, he has directly killed people in combat ... but that was more exhilarating and fun to him than anything else; his creators gave him the temperament of a brave warrior.

Once, early in his rise to power, Khan tortured a prisoner by burning them with a lit cigarette. How the weak little thing squirmed and squealed! Afterwards, he tried burning his own arm with a lit cigarette, just to see what it felt like. The pain didn’t seem so bad to him, but then his creators made him resilient enough that he doesn’t need to coddle every little injury, and they adjusted his nervous system suitably, gave him a high pain threshold.

Sometimes Khan does experience a pang of sad visceral empathy toward the unfortunate. He imagines what it would be like to be one of the wretched of the Earth: poor, slow, stupid, weak, sickly, ugly, awkward, wracked by physical and emotional pain, tormented by hunger, thirst, heat, cold, chronic pain, sadness, anxiety, fear, loneliness, impotent anger, shame, sexual frustration, battered about like a leaf in a storm by forces they can’t understand and can’t effect, used and tricked and abused by people smarter or stronger or just higher-status. That ... that must be awful. In his own arrogant, condescending way he really does want to help the normals. He really does want to fill full the mouth of famine, and bid the sickness cease. He intended to make the world orderly and peaceful, and to make sure everyone had the food, shelter, clothing, medicine, etc. they needed and lived in what he considered reasonable comfort and dignity. He created as close an approximation as he could of those conditions within the domains he controlled. They say he was the best of the tyrants.

He’s a convinced elitist, but it would only have been temporary. If he’d won, within a few generations everyone would have been a superior, like him. With time the process that created him could have been made cheaper, made available to everyone who wanted to make a child; if he’d won he’d have made that a great civilizational project, as important as the fusion reactors he saw providing endless cheap energy by burning the deuterium of the oceans and the great vaccination and infrastructure-building campaigns he intended to launch in Africa and Asia and Latin America and the asteroid mining and the... No more need for an elite of superiors when everyone is a superior. And no more arthritis, or depression, or ... so many bad things would have disappeared into the history books when the last generation of normals expired peacefully of old age (joining war and poverty, which he intended to banish into the past much sooner). And in the mean time he’d have seen to it that the last generations of normals lived in as much comfort and dignity as their flawed bodies and limited minds permitted.

And that would have only been the beginning! He looked forward beyond that, to future generations that would be as far beyond him as he was beyond the normals - further! He looked forward to a future of - who knew, immortals seemed like the next obvious step. And after that perhaps god-like immortal minds freed from the limitations of flesh, building for themselves vast magnificent new bodies of silicon and steel in which they would outlive the stars. He probably wouldn’t have seen it, as perfect as his body is it still ages. He wouldn’t even have outlived the last normals. Like Moses, he would have led his people to the border of the promised land but died outside its gates, it would have been to his successor or his successor’s successor to lead them through into the land of milk and honey and dwell there with them. But, perhaps, huddled around one of the last black holes at the end of the time, sipping Hawking radiation to power slow thoughts that took a thousand years to think, there would have been beings that remembered him, that saw his face and touched his hand in the staggeringly distant era when they were still human and had chosen to keep the memory of that as the stars burned out and all through the long bright joyous festival in the cold of the ultimate night. That concept pleased him.

It was not to be. Well, he doesn’t blame the normals too much for rejecting him. The way he figures it, most of them just weren’t smart enough to understand what he was offering, and getting angry at them for that is like getting angry at a non-verbal autistic for being unable to speak.

Once, when he was a child, he was walking alone through the expansive beautiful pleasant garden of his creators’ compound, in the pleasant cool of evening after a hot Indian day, and he found a bird with an injured wing. He supposes Dr. Hibbert’s cat must have mauled it and then gotten distracted by something and wandered off. One of its wings was bloody and wounded and broken and twisted, dragged against the ground as it walked. When he walked toward it, it walked away from him as fast as its little legs could carry it, and then it tried pathetically to fly, flapping its wings furiously and impotently. The sight of it filled him with a queasy mix of revulsion and pity. His first impulse was to run away from it, and his second impulse was to seize a stone and put it out of its misery, but his third impulse, the one he chose to obey, was to capture it and try to fix its wing and tend to it and feed it until it healed. It tried to escape from him as he tried to capture it, and it struggled furiously as he seized and held it, beating its wings furiously and scratching at the air and his hand with its claws. The panicked, vital thing in his hands revolted him, and its claws scratched his fingers and drew blood, but he forced himself to be as gentle with it as he could, to bring it inside and clean and apply antibiotic to its wound and reset and bandage its wing as it tried to escape his grip. He knew it was only natural that it would fight him and try to escape from him; it couldn’t understand that he was trying to help it; its brain couldn’t be much bigger than a peanut, far too small to contain the knowledge of what he was trying to do for it, too small to contain anything but that which was immediately relevant to its wretched and limited life, the search for food and the avoidance of and flight from predators and the building and tending of a nest and mating and laying and tending of eggs and tending of any young that might hatch from them. If it thought at all about what was happening to it, it probably thought he was trying to eat it, or more likely its struggles were simply instinctive, and the process of setting the wing and cleaning and bandaging the wound must have caused it pain. He set its wing and cleaned and bandaged its wound despite its efforts to escape him, and then he put it in a cage Dr. Pretorius gave him and he fed and tended it until its wing was healed, and then he took it into the garden and let it fly away, to continue its wretched and limited and meaningless life in the wild. Perhaps it lived to its kind’s version of old age (perhaps 15 years, he looked it up, and he has an almost eidetic memory) and knew a few moments of something like joy now and then, or perhaps it was eaten by a cat the next day.

When he thinks of the defeat that forced him to flee from Earth, deep into the dark, he thinks of that bird scratching his fingers as he tried to help it.

They say he was the best of the tyrants.

He killed more people than Hitler and Stalin.

------

Note: this is a model for, like, approximately Space Seed period Khan; Wrath of Khan period Khan has known real suffering intimately and would be a lot more bitter. Negative character development lol. Especially as the whole “we couldn’t tell two completely different planets apart” thing in Wrath of Khan is so absurd that I kind of headcanon that would actually happened is that Khan wanted revenge for his wife’s death, decided he’d rather be the ruler of a populous world than the leader of a 72 person village, tried to MacGyver up a small starship to reach a civilized world, ended up crashing on the much less habitable next planet out in that solar system, and in true Hitler/Trump-like fashion blamed somebody else (Kirk) for the consequences of his own overreach and disastrous failure.

#Star Trek #character concepts #fanfiction #flash fiction #cw: ableism #kinda #I think that Mel Baggs all oppression is rooted in ableism thing #would apply intensely to what went wrong with Khan and his supermen #I can't believe I got feels for this jerk writing this!#when I was deliberately writing him to come off as arrogant and unpleasant!#like Moses lol he would think of it that way!#I guess I'm just a sucker for that optimistic high SF stuff #also I do see him as a monster that was made not born #it's not superior ability creates superior ambition #it's that he's got rich spoiled gifted kid syndrome from Hell!

12 notes · View notes

medranochav · 4 years

Text

my moms been living with us for 4 months now. her stay was initially tolerable but is now triggering and I find myself regressing in a lot of ways. Her grief has evolved into torment and per her m.o. she'd like for her issues to take first priority. Except, my sis and I are grown now, and as a therapised household (literally we've all been in counseling, babies included) though we still lean on each other for support, we ultimately don't function codependently.

And beeecause that's not how we grew up, I think my mother is now having to contend with the reality that she has to do the emotional work of surviving her many traumas (and currently her many dramas) on her own. We support her but we can't fix it for her.

Currently, it's a crisis a day and she's spiraling into mini catastrophic states everytime. Which was sufferable at first because despite my labored support, I still maintained my boundaries and didn't adopt her distress as my own. The problem now is the increasing frequency with which these crying spells are taking place. Not to mention the fact that she's been doing so in front of the kids; something that would normally be acceptable because my sis and I make space for feelings (even our own) in our home. The difference being, we do so responsibly. We listen, we talk, give affection and/or space but always with the fundamental knowledge that our emotions belong to us individually and only we can be accountable for them. A gentle reminder that though part of a unit, they still have agency and accountability.

This interdependency makes way for a more compassionate exchange. Whenever they see us cry or be vunerable, the kids have the wherewithal to approach us without attaching themselves to our emotional circumstance. It's an empathy that perceives our emotional reactions as relatable but still not their responsibility. I've seen our work proven time and time again.

One example is when my sister's [redacted] died and the boys spotted her crying on the couch. Without being prompted, they approached her independently, commiserated, hugged and kissed her and shortly after went back to playing on their electronics. It was such a graceful display of emotional validation that demonstrated their love for her without sacrificing their own desires in doing so. Truly remarkable, that at ages 5-8 they maintained boundaries while still being there for their mom.

They're also there for one another but it's seldom a sinking ship. And when emotional support is rejected they respect that as well, without taking it personally [tbh that has more to do with concepts of mandatory consent that we impart on them, but as is evident, it applies. #intersectionality] It's an ongoing practice that I'm proud to be a part of, considering the kids have codependent figureheads in both their maternal and paternal families. WE'RE TRYING TO BREAK CYCLES HERE.

Yes, our home is a safe space for emotional processing but always leveraged with the emotional balance of self reliance, awareness and resiliency. The kids have proven to have the capacity for this and through teaching them, so do we.

It's human to have outbursts, but my mother's pattern is proving to be less intrinsic and more deliberate. She needs an audience in order to experience catharsis. A potentially reasonable behavior except for it's her only one. So it's imbalanced and seeks refuge in the reliance of our total empathy.

Furthermore she's disingenuous in her emotional performances. When approached out of concern, she responds with the proverbial, "I'm ok." Like, its subtle but super manipulative to say that, when we can CLEARLY see she's not. The kids see and hear her, the least she could do is not gaslight them. And I'm not saying her tactics are successful but it exposes the bby's to unnecessary dysfunction and covertly teaches them to assume the responsibility of communicating her emotion for her. She's also non verbal and unpredictable and tho not at her best rn [like, literally who is? this year has wrecked us all] she and we deserve proper communication.

The mind games are soul sucking and triggering for me in a way that is not for my sister. Though we share a mother, the repective versions of her that we experienced as children differ greatly.

My sister's the eldest and spent the first couple years of her life as the only child to a very young mother living alone in America after being displaced by the civil unrest in her native El Salvador. By age 3, with the addition of a new baby sister (my moms 2nd) she was sent to a country fully at war. My sisters would spend the next half decade of their lives in sunny wartorn tropics, watched over and raised by our family of four women. A blissful antithesis to their future with our mom. Upon the return to their forgotten country of origin (USA) and severed from the only family and community they've ever known, the girls were whisked away by a mother they barely remembered and a baby brother they had never met... marking the beginning of my mom's descent into single motherhood.

My mom resented having a brood of kids, namely her 2nd and 3rd, who's father was abusive and absent. Don't know much of the facts outside of what she would ritualistically berate my siblings about during her brutal tantrums -as if it were their fault they simply existed. The second born, my other sister, left home at 12 and has been estranged ever since and the third, my brother, has recently severed bonds abruptly claiming a new life with a woman he's known barely a year yet now calls wife. Proving that despite being raised by the same woman we all had different mothers.

Since my siblings endured a childhood with a volatile, violent woman who managed her emotions thru physical abuse... when she wasn't, she was neglectful of them, turning her attention onto me... the youngest (four years removed from the rest of the pack). I bore witness to said abuse until I was 5, when it was litigiously exposed, forcing her to abandon corporal punishment and rely solely on mental/emotional abuse. That's the version of my mom I got.

I was 10 when my sister left for college. Just my brother and I remained. Similarly to each other we both lived in service to our mother. Whereas his duties were more physically laborious, mine consisted of full on emotional labor. I spent most of my childhood navigating a homelife that was so saturated and occupied by my mother's opera of a life, that there was no room for my feelings, thoughts, desires or identity. I was her plaything, a person sans agency. My age and vulnerability proved advantagous when grooming me. I learned to behave in ways satisfactory to her needs. I was made to react to (and collect) her emotional distress, endorse her judgements of others, perform well in school as a testament to her rearing, and accept her violations of me as normal. I was a shackled spectator, whose own emotions were mere reflections of her dramatizations. I was tailored to be the MOST convenient. So I kept secrets and coped alone. I knew just enough abt myself to remain human but lacked the vision to actualize it. And because emotional abuse is so insidious in its indoctrination, I was really none the wiser until I too moved away years later.

I'm almost 30 now and I'm a mess. I can't establish enduring relationships, I'm fat, I'm broke, I'm debilitatingly avoidant, socially inept, codependent, confused and lack significant self worth. I spent the past decade delving deep into undoing all the work done to me to keep me a reliable supply for my mother and coming to terms with all the time lost in doing so. I've had glimpses and proof of another life but this year sent me back to old coping mechanisms and devastatingly familiar relationships. I read that by its very nature, all pandemics have to end and I thought I was strong enough to share a definite time&space with my abuser for the foreseeable future.... but with no end in sight, I kind of really wish I had established a clearer version of myself and where I stand in this family, to her.

Similar predicaments flung us both to the south and having her here is like a screen forging images of the same dysfunction I exhibited upon my arrival 7 years ago. There's so much I wish I could tell my former self, namely, "it's not your fault. you're not alone. you don't have to try so hard and tomorrow is another day" And perhapz it's this layered vision of myself as seen thru her that compels me to want to save her, but doing so requires me to get too close to a flame I've yet to extinguish. Im not foundationally sound enough to go up in flames and rebuild afterwards, I need a few more rounds of therapy for all that. I'm a stitch away from coming apart at the seams. Weak construction, but I'm still standing. I have more life to live and can't risk the breeze of my mother's chaotic whims to topple what's taken years to forge. I love her, because she's the only mom I got and because she's the kids' only access to our motherland. How can I reconcile this version of me with this version of her?

13 notes · View notes

1zashreena1 · 4 years

Text

I Am Having a Sad -9

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: Princess has a bad and lonely self-esteem day. Diego goes too far too fast from 2500 miles away and she calls her safeword for the first time in her life.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

FEELS. the L word, SAFEWORD, depression/anxiety, self-esteem issues, sensory processing issues, sel-expression difficulties, plus size woman+fit man, soft!Diego, overwhelmed Princess, is a relationship happening?? apparently. Leftover high school Spanish.

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115 @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87 @lockedoutofmyotherblog @poeedamerons

I am having a sad. This is normal and okay. I just have to wait it out. I do not need to text him. This pep talk would be more effective if you would stop staring longingly at the last selfie he sent you.

It isn't working. All you want right now is to be smothered in Diego but he is in a different time zone. And you don't want to be clingy. And demanding. And needy.

Surely making yesterday's selfie your new lock screen will help, right?

With a big sigh you flop backwards into your bed. You eye your phone like it's a live grenade. It hasn't even been eight hours since the last text and. And you have this… pain? In your chest? What if I'm annoying him?

He has to be super busy, I should just wait. What time even is it in LA right now?

You snatch up the phone and check. 7:46 pm PDT. You wonder what he ate today. Did he have dinner yet? What shirt is he wearing? Does he have a headache? He always says he has a headache when he gets back to New York. And then you rub his head, stroke through his soft hair, stretch out his solid neck, break up all the adhesions in those broad shoulders.

Bitch, this is not helping. What do you hate about him?

Oh yeah, that list is blank.

You open up the text conversation and stare at the blinking cursor. Just one text can't hurt, right?

You look at the selfie again. He's in bed, deep plum sheet tucked up under his chin, all sleepy chocolate eyes and a soft little smile. His face is relaxed, leaning against his left hand. His beard is ruffled on one side, flattened on the other from where he must have slept on it. You can feel tears welling up again.

How the fuck is he so gorgeous? Why is someone who looks like that sending me selfies? I have no right to this. I don't deserve this.

You reach out and trace one finger down his cheek. His right dimple is visible under the stubble. Minimizing the picture, you go back to the cursor. The screen is blurry until you blink and one tear slips out.

You type out one hasty 'hey' and hit send before you can quadruple guess yourself. This is stupid. He's too busy for your little drama queen hissy fit meltdown.

Sorry, should've asked if you're busy first

Send.

Enough time passes that you flip the phone screen-down and plop it on your heaving chest. You bring both hands to your face and press into your closed eyelids. Just as you reach back down with a huge sigh the phone vibrates.

Princessssss. You know I'm never busy to you

You choke out a sob-laugh and try to breathe normally. Okay, now a decision. Idle chatter or metric fuckton of feels? While you waffle about it, Diego initiates a videocall. Oh, hell no. You jab 'Decline' so hard it bends your nail back.

What is wrong? Why can't I see you?

I just look like shit rn. Please don't

That has never been true. Mi princesa bonita

Always quick with the compliments. You sniffle.

I just. I guess I just miss you. Tonight

Perfect, you hit send before could have deleted it. Great job. Wonderful. Brilliant.

Is everything ok? This does not sound like sexytimes

Oh, Diego.

Yeah, I'm fine. Mostly. I mean nothing is wrong, its just me

Just me having feels

… should you have sent that? Probably not. Do you regret it? Yes, instantly. In fact, if preemptive regret were possible you would already have drowned in it.

The phone is quiet for a minute. Good job dumbass, now he IS annoyed.

What kind? Sad feels? Headache feels? Work is stupid and frustrating feels? Huffy feels that require cheese? You have many feels. At all times. It sounds exhausting

Yep. I'm annoying and clingy. You chastise yourself rather effectively.

You're right. Sorry. I got this

Does that sound bitchy? Is it bitchy? Oh my god, I need an off button.

Nonono. I asked. You have to answer. Its a rule

Your laugh is sharp.

Since when do you care about rules lol

When they're your rules. We agreed to answer direct questions honestly, yes?

Well fuck. He got you there. You had agreed to that. When you two sat down in your living room after the Emotional Spanking*™ and had a 'groundframe setup' discussion. Sometimes you were fairly certain he mangled phrases just to watch your eye twitch violently. Little shit.

OK fine. I'm feeling shitty about myself. Happy??

Now that is bitchy.

FORBIDDEN

And no, that does not please Diego

And is that why I exist? To please you???

Before you can stop it, your temper flares.

No Princess. The other way. Let me please you

Oh no. Oh shit. What. Is. Happening?? You are royally fucked now. This entire conversation has gone so completely off the rails that you can't even define a 'train'. Those little bouncing dots have not stopped yet.

Should I tell you how I miss you? How these stupid meetings and these stupid people and my stupid sister bore me when I would rather be listening to you read a dictionary? Or sing every word to every song ever played on the radio? Or explain the differences between cat breeds?

Or maybe I could say how ridiculously empty this bed is with only me in it. How there are no tiny socks hidden under the comforter. Not a single lip balm in sight.

Perhaps you need a list of everything I would touch. The soft lips. A little bitty hand. That tiny ribcage. Those thick thighs. With my beard, ofc. Your forehead with mine?

Oh. Ohh. Oh no. This is not fair. This is an attack. How did he just break me like this? Your face is flushed and you are crying outright now. You have to stop this right now.

Stop.stop please. Diego no

Diego yessss

You can't take anymore. This isn't funny. You can't even form words. When autocorrect suggests the picture of a pineapple you stab it and then hit send in rapid succession.

Pinnaea🍍🍍

………………………...

Your phone emits one aborted ring then it cuts off.

Can I call? Please

You're trying to figure out a way to calm yourself, to stifle the heaving gasps and whiny sobs. You're nodding. Not useful, idiot, you scold yourself.

No video. Just talk. Please Princess

You can't say no to that when he is trying so hard.

Ok yeah

You barely see the message load on the screen when the ringing starts up again. Smacking the green button entirely too hard, you hold your breath to stop the pitiful sounds.

"Princess?" His voice is cautious, tone soft.

"I'm h-here." Is all you can manage. Any more and you'll burst into sobs again.

"Are you in bed?" Keeping it short and precise. Yes or no answers. Nothing too demanding.

"Yeah. S-s-sitting." He is being so sweet. How is someone like Diego so sweet to you. Something rustles in the background.

"What was it? A specific word? Or just too much?" His voice is hushed, like he might be in a small room…

"Are… are you in a c-c-closet?" Is he really…? You hold your breath.

"Si. Your closet is too small. I was going to send you a picture." He answers.

You absolutely cannot deal with this man.

"Baby, I--" Your stupid soprano voice gives away how emotional you really are. He was going to send you a picture of a closet big enough for you to hide. Probably a panoramic shot so you could fully visualize it. Your chest compresses and you gasp.

"Princess? Talk. Make a noise. Something!" He sounds panicked. You suddenly remember he can't read your face this way. He can't see your pleased smile.

"That's. That's just. Diego, I love you so much." Its out before you can stop it. Even though you know he can't see it, you still hide your face.

"Love." He breathes softly into the phone. "Tell Diego what you need, my good little girl." His voice is quiet, controlled. He is letting you lead him where you want him. Everywhere. Forever.

You feel safe enough to actually confess, "I just have a, a really hard time believing… all of. That." You wave your hand in the air vaguely. "Not that you're lying!" You rush to clarify. "Just that anyone could actually like, well seems to, at least, everything…?"

"Did that make any sense?" You chew your lip anxiously.

His soft chuckle makes your stomach flip. "Well, it was technically English." Your snort sends him into quiet giggles.

"I like hearing you laugh." You whisper. He goes silent. You tense up.

"Perfect little princess. No one has ever told me that before. Most people are frightened of my laugh." He seems a little bewildered by his own words. Like he didn't mean for that to come out but now he definitely wants to hear the reaction.

You cover your smile, then pick up the phone so you can lie down. "Apparently I'm not most people." You feel around blindly until you locate TMP (Tiny Murder Panther) and tuck the stuffed animal under your chin for cuddles. "I like your voice, too. Like when you talk to me. Sometimes its just the words. Or rather my ingesting of them of that trips me up." Your quiet sniffle is hidden in silky black fur.

"The words are the problem? Do I need a, a…. The book with words that all mean the same thing." He bites out.

Sometimes you forget that English is his second language. Then things like this happen. And its fucking adorable.

"Thesaurus. Synonyms, baby." Your smile is audible.

"I know!" He huffs in mock indignation.

"I know you know. That's cute, though."

"So are your little 'aqui's and 'si's and 'ahora's."

"Fine! Gawd!"

You both dissolve into laughter. It fades into easy silence while you rub your cheek over faux fur.

He sighs gently into the phone. "Was it the forehead touching?" His voice trembles a bit, like he is unsure that he should have asked. As though afraid. A little overwhelmed, just like you.

"Um. Yes. Actually. That was. Yeah, that did it." You blink back tears. "We have a thing. We're a 'we'."

"That is what you want, yes?" Diego sounds cautious. As if he might accidentally utter an irreversible spell or something. Then, a quiet whisper, "It's what I want."

You suck in a deep breath and decide to just force it out. Just take what you desire. Jump already.

"I want you. I don't think a typical, um, relationship would work. But, people can define themselves. Relationships should operate the same way."

That… that actually sounded decisive and authoritative. Wow. You're really that bitch tonight, huh? You are very pleased with yourself. You can hear something sliding against the phone but can't identify the sound.

"There she is." The wide smile in his voice stabs directly into your heart. It was his beard rubbing the phone when he smiled. You laugh with his approval, pleasure burning through your veins.

"Maybe I can write some stuff down. For discussion purposes. Maybe you can write some stuff down for me. Reading it makes it seem more real to me."

"If that is your royal decree, Princess." He shuffles around, you can hear clothing rustling.

"Do you really like finding my orphan socks?" Your voice is sly, like a kid springing a trap question. He likes that smirky tone and you know it.

"They are cute. Just like the tiny feet. You are so very little, Princess." Oh, but he knows exactly how to flip the trap back onto you. The sound of muffled tapping comes through the line. "Tiny feet. Added to the list." His voice echoes the smallest bit, he must have you on speaker so he can access the note app. "Next item: fat ass."

You explode into guffaws. "Damnit Diego!" Your wheezing almost drowns out his husky laughter.

"Wait! I almost forgot! Fan-tasss-tic. Rrrrack." He sounds out the words as he types them. You lose vocal control again, giggling like a child. Logically you know these juvenile jokes shouldn't be this amusing, but clearly you both have the same maturity level.

"Baby, you are my favorite pervert." Your declaration is met with haughtiness.

"I had better be your only pervert, Princess." The possessive tone straightens your spine with shock. "You are mine!" He growls fiercely.

Everything is quiet for a very long minute. You seem to have consumed every butterfly, hot sauce, and poprocks-and-cola mixture on the planet when you weren't paying attention.

You think about all the gifts. Designer purses, specially tailored clothing, the six pairs of redbottoms you now own, how the last ring he gave you still twinkles up at you from your right hand (he took great pleasure in ensuring it fit your middle finger so you can still be pretty while you flip him off).

You remember all the places he has taken you. The Michelin starred restaurants, that hole-in-the-wall Mexican place where they know him by first name is your favorite, the stupid stores he wanders through with you, the cheesy tourist traps where he always gets you a hideously clichéd souvenir.

Your memory flashes through a slide show of his laughter. Gleeful giggles at your horrified reaction to the neon orange lipstick he presented in Sephora. His wheezing delight when you gagged on the seaweed appetizer he shoveled into your mouth before you could object. The gentle, knowing chuckle when you pulled TMP out of your bag to take a nap two weekends ago.

You realize he is entirely correct.

"Yes I am, Diego." Is your quiet confirmation.

"Bicki. I." He seems startled. You stay silent and let him gather his thoughts. The swallow is audible before he continues hesitantly, "I will see you this weekend, mi amor?"

All the ways this man says 'I love you' are so many more than just the actual words. Your pleased smile stretches your cheeks so far it hurts.

"Yes please!" Your shameless request ends in a yawn. "Sorry."

"You need to sleep for work, Princess. I have one last meeting here then I will be there tomorrow."

You wish he was here now but keep that to yourself.

"OK, let me know when you're here."

I am so not wearing panties under that new maxidress for the flight up and demanding that he pick me up personally. Yes. A perfect plan. You amuse even yourself with your scheming.

"Be careful tonight, Diego. I want you to come home to me." The thought of anything happening to him crushes your throat.

"I, I want that, too. Love you." All comes tumbling out of him in a rushed confession of quiet hopefulness. It makes you so happy that tears well up again. Fucking stop this, woman.

"Love you. Bye, baby." You whisper warmly, hoping he can feel even an ounce of how deliriously happy he makes you.

"Goodnight, Princess." The reply is sighed, full of self-conscious relief and pleasure. His rough voice is so calm and soothing that you nod off before the line disconnects, face tucked into his miniature proxy.

…………………………...

Incoming text

Friday 12:09am

From: Murder Panther

🥰💋💟💯🔜

#damnit diego #murder panther #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #the feeeeeels #zash writes #i hurt myself with this one guys #safewords aren't just for physical stuff

32 notes · View notes

derangedhyena-zoids · 4 years

Text

So, random headcanon blather time mainly re: Zero, One, and zoidian apocalypse bullshit since I want to note things while I’m thinking about them:

One really hasn’t changed much since I made him up. In fact he actually seeded an entire ... idk what to call it, line of personal tropes? It’s complicated.

But yhea. He’s basically the same. One is basically amoral, and views things through an extremely animalistic lens. Very short-term-goals oriented, doesn’t really think much in the long term - not because he can’t, but because he doesn’t see the point. By this same token he’s indifferent to the concept(s) of being worshiped (or not) - if it works to his advantage, cool, if not, whatever. Just don’t mess with him and he won’t care. He’s hopelessly devoted to Vega, and despite being brought into existence by the power of the Zoid Eve, fails to believe in it as a deity. He has basically no patience and very little sense of humor; what little he does have is, as one might expect, fairly morbid and dark. He thinks highly of himself and has a lot of pride, though it’s all rooted in a realistic assessment of his abilities so... can you blame him? It’s also difficult to tell because he doesn’t act prideful, in fact he doesn’t act like much at all. Most times you’d wonder if he was even listening because he doesn’t react or emote much, visibly. If he does, it’s usually anger. He has a hard time understanding nuance and lacks empathy.

Zero, however, has changed. Quite a lot.

For one, Zero’s way more of a dick now. (pre-KYH he was also WAY more of a dick because he, very literally, felt entitled to be worshiped as a god.) And while he’s extremely inclined to help people, he’s not selfless. (also, I don’t know how many people acknowledged this at the end of the No Future comic, but Zero straight-up was abandoning Zeke.) Unlike One, he has a lot of patience, and is not easily frustrated. And also unlike One, he tends to think of things on a longer timeline, though given his and the Liger’s screwed-up memory, this can be Weird. He likes to nap a lot because frankly he’s tired of the world’s bullshit. Part of the reason Bit’s having such a time in Echo with the flashbacks is because Zero’s memory is incredibly damaged, as was the Liger’s. As Zero heals/regenerates after the initial reformation in K&G, he’s regaining some of his memories because he has the ‘resources’ available to spread out and sort through things out a little better. Unfortunately those ‘resources’ are Bit. But by this same token they’re incredibly bonded, as they both are to the Liger. Historically speaking, both Zero and One were taken in by their respective “main groups” after the battle at Eveopolis. The split Death Scorpion and Zero were eventually able to defeat the Death Saurer, and Zero was then able to deal with the squabbling Scorpions. Zero was still standing at the end of all this, and was hailed as a hero. He was regarded as a leader and a savior after this, expected to help the survivors. One was out of the fight shortly after being fucked up by Zero, just as the Scorpion had initially been split. The group that saw One as the hero here were mortified to see him cast aside, and after all was said and done and they fled the city, they brought One with them. The damage that the Death Saurer had managed to do in its blithering rage was basically world-ending, though. As mentioned prior a lot of the “goo” worldwide was dried up initially or dried up shortly thereafter, severely restricting breeding grounds for Organoids and Zoids alike. A lot of the water, both surface and atmosphere, was evaporated as well, fucking up weather, temperature, soil, you name it.

(It’s STILL fucked up, albeit settled into a ‘new normal.’) The sun got blotted out, and water was scarce. Most vegetation died. This really sucked for the uh, basically-vegan Zoidians. Under the extreme conditions the Zoids and Organoids couldn’t produce anything extra to help, either.

Between air becoming unbreathable in places (from toxic metals being vaporized by heat from chain-reactions set off by the DSaurer) and the basics for survival going away, Zoids, Zoidians and Organoids alike started to die off en masse. Though the Zoids and Organoids were better able to withstand the poor conditions, they desperately tried to help their partners. As Zoidians died and Organoids panicked, feral behavior started to set in and infighting started, often destroying what remained of many groups. Tech wasn’t equal across various Zoidian nations and cultures. Some had the capsules (or similar) figured out and in place for emergencies. Some didn’t. After it was determined there weren’t any known habitable places left, those with knowledge of these capsules had started directing people to go to the locations with them. Decent groups would pick up other ailing groups if they found them and urge them to come with them. Less decent groups... well... The group that had taken One with them (surprise, Hiltz’s group) were not immune to the issues and panic setting in as everything around them started to fail. They went hard after other groups for their resources, and had no issue with slaughtering whole caravans to take their ever-dwindling supplies and eat their Zoids and Organoids. (pls note that they were already crossing ten tons of lines by doing the latter, it was almost universally considered taboo to kill Organoids except in self-defense, a longstanding rule because everyone had Organoids, and nobody wanted to deal with the consequences of losing theirs. Hiltz’s group started *targeting* the Organoids in the caravans specifically, which - after they’d killed just a few, the victim group would be in such panicked disarray it’d be easy to pick apart.) It was the Organoids who started eating the Zoidians who’d been killed, as the group’s own Zoids were thin on resources and symbiosis became impossible. One, throughout all this, was provided sufficient food to recover, and when he awoke was faced with a desperate, violent lot that pleaded for his help.

One was already fucked up at this point, but hadn’t lost much coherence yet; he was basically like “survival of the fittest, lol. I’m sure you can figure it out” ....which they basically took as permission to become outright cannibals. Anytime anyone showed signs of failing health/weakness, they were swarmed and torn apart by the group. So what basically started happening is folks masking issues to the point of collapse, at which point they... well, were still ripped apart. They also had their own capsule tech and likewise were headed to their major sites for it, albeit with great difficulty. There were several smaller sites on the way, and some especially fit survivors were placed in these, the idea being that they’d be more likely to survive in smaller groups later when they re-awoke. One was preserved along with a fair portion of (this traveling segment of) Hiltz’s group; when One’s capsule is later found and brought in by Prozen’s crews, Hiltz remembered this and finally had some hope that more Zoidians had been found. But they hadn’t been - they were all long-dead. That’s the literal point at which Hiltz lost almost all hope. Then while in such a state he basically got told off by One, which is very literally what gave him the idea he was going to go figure out the Death Saurer and Become A God and Save Zi all on his fucking own, because, well, that’s what you super reasonably do when told off by a minor deity, right? RIGHT?

(Everything in the ocean was largely okay from The Apocalypse. Zoids and Organoids who tried to carry on and function in shallower seawater were preyed upon intensely (and unable to, you know, survive doing this), because the competition for oceanic resources had skyrocketed and things had become a bit fucked up. Ultimately in NC0 times, what I’m saying is that the ocean is literally filled with giant, wild nightmare leviathan horrors and everyone who knows what’s out there just LEAVES THAT SHIT ALONE. Most people have no idea at all though, as the sea life in the shallower areas around Europa is pretty tame. HELL PLANET HELL PLANET

#headcanon #blah blah blah

3 notes · View notes

chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years

Text

Pour Some Salt on Me || Matty and Kaden

TIMING: Present LOCATION: Soul on the Rocks PARTIES: @likeamattoutofhell and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Matty meets Kaden at the bar and deals with some of his baggage. AKA: Did someone order a Margarita? Extra salty?

It wasn’t often that Kaden spent a free night at a bar that wasn’t the Silver Bullet but he was always up for something new and different. Plus, for all he knew, he could be walking into a prime opportunity for hunting. Not to mention, he could always use a few more drinks to deal with everything that had happened in the past week. Mimes. Wings. Banshees. Werewolves. It was too much. He could use a normal night. The bar was loud. Very loud. It was going to take a lot for him to concentrate on any conversation and not get overwhelmed. He took a deep breath. It’d be fine, as long as he was prepared. He saw a guy at the bar, pretty sure on the end he was supposed to meet him. “You Matty?” he asked. “Kaden. Aka that guy whose dog found a fucking head the other week.” He almost added ‘not a mime-fucker’ but then he thought better of reminding anyone of that before needed. “How’s it going?

So. This had been a day, hadn’t it? Or, well. A night. But, at least some shit didn’t change. Soul on the Rocks was still standing, and nobody gave a crap how you came. Which was good, given that Matty looked a little like a half-drowned poodle, his hair still damp and curling, crazily, from his make-do shower at the pool. Whatever it took. Bit into his budget a little - man, everything cost more, these days - but he was two rounds into the special, and had enough left over for a few more. Solid. He’d just raised a hand for another when some… guy, sleek, sharp-faced, dropped onto the stool next-door. Kaden? Right. Maybe into mimes? According to the internet, but. Couldn’t believe everything you read, duh. “Yeah, that’s - yeah.” The vibes, on this poor bastard. “It’s… going, alright.” Why not shoot the shit? There was plenty of it. “Pipes in my place are, uh. Under reconstruction? Got real messed up last week, full of something fucked, I don’t know. At least the neighbors aren’t, you know, weirder than usual.” Which had been saying something, alright. But he’d draw a line, sure, at suddenly taking up miming. At other people. In the hallway. Matty shrugged, vaguely. “Same shit, different day, around here. How about you, man? What’s up?”

Kaden raised a brow and gave the guy a one over. “I can see that.” The guy looked rough, alright. Soaked and a little bedraggled. “Bad pipes, huh? What happened? Do you live anywhere near the funeral home by chance?” He almost asked if it was vampires or necrophages since that always seemed to be the cause of leaky pipes in buildings. Occasionally pixies. Usually dead things. But he thought better of it. That joke only landed in a hunter bar, really. He waved down the bartender and ordered a beer, wasn’t sure he trusted the liquor to be drinkable let alone mid shelf. “I’m alright. Less severed heads in my life so that’s been good.” A lot more wings and banshees and death but it was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine. He gulped down a sizable portion of his drink. “I mean, yeah. It’s been a fucking week. Got attacked by the wo-- an animal in the woods the other night. Nearly fucking died. So I’m sure yours is going better than that. Least I hope so.”

Funeral home? Matty frowned, faintly, not sure what that was supposed to mean. “Don’t think so?” Hopefully that was a no. Not somewhere he needed, or wanted, to hang around. With actual corpses. “Just some shithole, you know what it’s like.” Fuck, it was a shame you couldn’t smoke in bars anymore. Still had some of that good weed, from Margot, kicking around. And he was itching for something, anything. Matty gave the bartender a seriously grateful nod as the next Moscow mule landed, shaking off a sudden, cold shiver. A bad one. God, he’d have to get ahold of Felix. Soon.

But. A couple drinks wouldn’t hurt, and the company probably wouldn’t. Jury was out, as of yet.

“Solid.” Less body parts flying around in general, the better, yeah? Elbow up on the scratched-to-shit counter, he took a long, needsome drink, hearing Kaden out. The wo-what? His head tilted, there, doing some wo-wondering. Not too much. His week. Where to start? With the waiting to find out if a couple super scary motherfuckers were going to duke it out to the death over at Hanging Rock, come the weekend? Hanging around a psychotic old-ass leech with fancy tastes? Getting thrown out of a tree by a bloodsucking... monkey, with iron teeth, or some shit? No, thanks. “Oh, totally.” Matty tossed off a tired sorta smile, and raised his glass. “Here’s to - death-defying, huh? Life goes on.” Close enough. “The hell were you doing in the woods, anyway? Nothing but crazy and mosquitoes out there, seriously…”

Kaden nodded at his current companion’s words. “Ah, not related to that then. Nevermind. But yeah, I do know how that goes. Surprised I don’t live in a complete dump here, but I got paid a little more than I’m used to when I took the job at Animal Control.” Out of the sheer desperation they had to fill the position. He felt a chill run through him before taking another sip of his beer. Strange, was the door open or something? He looked back but that was stuoid, it wasn't even that cold out anymore. Odd. Must have imagined it. Or the beer was just really cold.

“To deth-defying.” Kaden raised his glass in a toast and gave a small nod. And a wince as he lifted his arm. Side still hurt, he almost forgot, despite toasting his near death. “I was camping. Didn’t want to stay in my apartment any longer.” He gave a shrug. The details weren’t ones he was ready to dig up so soon. Or share in a bar. At least not this sober. “I’m also in animal control so I’m there a lot anyway. Got attacked by an animal.” Explaining what it was seemed unnecessary. Most people accepted “animal” right off the bat, anyway. “You ever had any near death experiences?

Lauren Langley couldn’t stand to watch this any more, this fraternizing with supernaturals that her son kept indulging in. He'd made his choice to turn away from his duty. He didn’t even do a basic check on this man to see the glaringly obvious. The man at the bar was obviously undead. Kaden should have been able to listen and hear the hollow emptiness where his heart should be beating. And yet he sat there, toasting, making small talk. Disgusting. Disgraceful. She could no longer contain the anger raging inside of her. She pushed out her power, let her anger extend outwards and the lights started to flicker, the sound cutting in and out, as she floated towards the man in question, standing between him and her son, glaring daggers at him that she knew he could see, the blood sucking filth that he was.

Animal Control. Okay, then. Matty’s eyebrows slid upwards, but, hey. Whatever paid the bills. Not like he could talk. “Well, hey. Nice.” Did he want to know about… dogcatching, or whatever this guy got up to? Not exactly, but - he’d always been curious. “Seems like a rough gig. Especially in this town, fuck...” Christ knew what kinda freaky shit Kaden had to deal with, on top of bears, and cougars, and rabid raccoons. Had to feel a little sorry for him, yeah?

Cheers, anyway. To camping, too, sure. Whatever the dude was into. “Cool, yeah. I get that, man. Space. Nice thing to have.” Matty drank. And twitched, as the electricity fritzed. Weird. He blinked, throwing an uncertain glance over the rest of the Rocks, watching as the jukebox glimmered in and out, the static sneering into his too-sharp ears. Near death. With a shook-out laugh, Matty turned back to try and field that one - only to find some lady. Some ghost lady, all silvery; more substantial than most, though. Nobody he knew. Right? No. He was pretty sure. But that stare. The grin was staggering away from him, on its last legs. “A… a couple…” Leaning back on his stool, Matty cleared his throat. Took another drink. “Animals, yeah.” He was stumbling, quailing under those eyes. Maybe they weren’t, you know, familiar, but. If looks could murder. Violently. “Maybe we oughta take this outside?” Matty winced, suddenly, sliding to his feet. Ghosts got stuck to places, didn’t they? “Just, seems we’ve got some… fucky wiring, in here. I mean, this joint’s probably a total fire-trap…”

Kaden froze, glass at his lips, as the electricity cut in and out. For half a second he wondered if this was just a result of shoddy wiring. This bar wasn’t exactly high end or upscale. But the shocked looks and startled reactions from everyone around him gave him the feeling this wasn’t a typical occurrence. Putain. He really wanted a night off from the supernatural. Didn’t look like he was going to get it. It seemed like his present drinking buddy was looking through him or around him. Hard to say for sure, but it didn’t seem like his eyes were meeting his. Hmm, maybe his near death experiences were a hell of a lot worse than Kaden’s. Shit, might have hit a nerve. “You alright?” he asked, brow raised as the guy started to freak out. “Yeah, I noticed.” Kaden glanced around the place, didn’t see anything else strange, but there was a bit of a cold spot as he stood to follow. “I’m guessing this isn’t normal for here. Got any better suggestions?” Bullet was out so he supposed it was another night at Dell’s. He shrugged as they headed outside, could be worse.

He wasn’t going to get away so easily. Lauren knew he saw her; he must know her feelings as well. Or at least sensed them. And she hadn’t even spoken yet. “Leaving so soon, vampire?” she asked, smirk on her face. “I wasn’t finished here.” Her voice was laced with venom, but it was still and even all the same, cold and poisonous at the same time. Once again, she pulled into her anger and used it to send the unused glasses from the bar exploding out in every direction, but most of the glasses aimed at the vampire. Unfortunately, her son, too. But he could tolerate the pain. And maybe it would give him a hint to either leave this loathsome creature or, better yet, kill it. She disappeared a moment and then flashed back in front of the vampire, spectral face inches from his. “My son may not put a stake through your heart. He’s gone soft, you see, but I sure will. Better yet, I’ll make sure he does.”

“Me? I’m good, yeah, just...” Haunted. “Honestly, I…” Matty trailed off, a shudder creeping down the back of his neck, all the way. That kind, he realized, now. He’d met his fair share of ghosts. Or, well, his unfair share, depending on how you looked at it. This one was - well, bad fuckin’ vibes, all over, was what she was. Why the hell was the vampire thing her problem? Matty tried to pin his attention down to Kaden, hurriedly tugging his ratty denim jacket on. They’d just fuck off, and he’d try the Rocks again… in a week. Or two. A month from now. Oh, that would blow.

Not as hard as the fuckin’ rain of glass that shattered over them. Matty had heard them rattling just in time to turn, barely soon enough to drop, shoving Kaden by the shoulder, turning his back into a storm of smashing tumblers and sharp edges. Ears ringing, hands shaking - bleeding, somewhere, he could smell it already - Matty gasped out of it, and pushed away across the sticky, glittering floor as the ghost gathered in front of him, face to face. Son? His eyes ticked to Kaden, quick. Back. Yeah, around the eyes, he could see it. Just his fuckin’ luck. Getting in the middle of some kinda family drama.

Wait. Wait, wait. Gone soft? Too soft for staking. Shit. Slayer family drama? Just his fuckin’ luck.

“Listen, I don’t - I don’t know you, or him, or… what your problem is, I...” What he did know, was salt. Salt for ghosts. How, specifically, not so sure. But the salt would be behind the bar - he’d downed enough tequila here to know. Behind the bar, where he was going, fast.

“Shit!” Kaden shouted as he saw the glasses rumble. He raised his hands to shield his head and found himself shoved down out of the way of the oncoming onslaught of glass. White hot pain from his side flashed through him as he twisted and ducked. After the deafening crashes of glass came the screams as patrons started bolting for any exit they could find. Couldn’t blame them. As Kaden stood up straight, his brow furrowed, another wince of a pain, and yeah that was definitely blood dripping along his hands. Fuck. “You o--” He started to ask his drinking buddy as he tried to evaluate the extent of his wounds. Minimal, thankfully. But his words cut short as the other man started speaking to the air.

“Who are you talking to?” Kaden asked, brows furrowed, and stomach sinking. He had a feeling he fucking knew who the hell it was he was talking to. Putain. Also that meant this guy could see ghosts. Well that narrowed it down a little. Medium maybe? Zombie? Wait what was he going for behind the bar? Shit, time to pull a knife out, just in case. He grabbed a standard blade first but started rummaging in his pockets. Had to have an iron one on him somewhere.

“Oh, how cute. The bloodsucker found the salt,” Lauren smiled and shook her head, arms crossed in front of her incorporeal body. “Do you really think that will stop me?” Lauren disappeared and sprung back next to Matty’s left, voice slithering right into his ear. “I need you to tell my son something, you filthy animated corpse. Before you turn to dust.” She vanished again and reappeared on his other side, eyes fixed on Kaden even though he couldn’t see her as she spit more venom into the vampire’s ear. “Tell him he should have been better. And that he’s all but proven he’s no son of mine.” Her visage was gone one more for the moment. With a loud crash, half the tables in the bar burst, sending drinks and food tumbling to the floor and wood shards flying in every direction. If that wasn’t a hint for her disgrace of a son, nothing would be.

Shit. Pawing around behind the counter, Matty was doing his best to think, clearly, with blood on the air. Human blood. He’d eaten earlier, but - pig, or something, whatever Nic had drained into those juiceboxes. Not enough to keep the good stuff from being distracting. “Uh…” He stammered, hearing Kaden. Asking a totally sensible kinda question, in the middle of something not sensible at all. There - pinch-bowls of salt. A couple went spilling onto the counter as Matty flinched, that chilling, creeping not-breath riding up his spine again, that hiss an itch across the back of his neck. Tell him.

Oh, this cow could eat it.

“Fuck off, Jesus!” He rasped, flinging a handful of the stuff. Where she’d been, anyway. God, usually ghosts were chill. Why’d he have to wind up drinking with some hunter who had poltergeist-grade baggage? Snatching up another desperate handful of salt, Matty glanced Kaden’s way. Or, almost. Everything went to shit, before he got a good look at the guy. Again. Worse. The back-mirror splintered and sheeted apart as pieces of table and chair stabbed through, into the wall, quivering furiously. “Your mom!” Shouting over the noise, Matty cowered behind the bar, panting hard and panicky from where he’d hit the dirt. “I swear, man - that’s what she says...” Why she felt the need to let him know, well. That, Matty sure as shit couldn’t answer.

Kaden was still fumbling for anything iron when the tables exploded. He dropped down and ducked, once again using his arms to shield himself. Fucking shit. This had to be an angry spirit, right? Shit, he was so far out of his depths here.

He shot up at the man’s words. “My mom?” His brow creased and he looked around, as if he’d be able to see her. “Putain de merde!” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. He had a feeling that was the case. He really wished it wasn’t. Fucking fuck. “Circle yourself in salt!” he shouted

Wait. Did that mean?

No. That. No. It couldn’t be.

As soon as her son froze, Lauren knew he’d figured it out. She’d hoped that he would, maybe a little sooner, but her faith in him had waned. “Do it, mon petitou. Do it.” She whispered in his ear as if he could hear him. All she needed was for him to stake one measly vampire and then she could move on. Maybe.

Kaden shook off his stupor as he felt a chill creep down his spine. There’d be time to evaluate this later. Right now he needed a plan. And to figure out how to stop this. “Want to tell me why the fuck you can see ghosts?” he shouted to Matty. “And why my mother is pissed as shit at you. And me. But you seem like the cause here, too.”

Lauren could feel the rage building up inside her again. Why was he talking? Why wasn't he acting? She threw back her spectral head and screamed, pushing her anger out to shatter all the glass and windows. It lashed out and added more scrapes and cuts to her son’s body. She didn’t care anymore if her son bled. Maybe then this vampire would show its true nature and Kaden would remember that he was meant to fight monsters, not protect them.

Circle of salt. Right. Ghosts, couldn’t cross. Only, then he would be stuck, here, in deep with Langley, who - who, whatever he might be, had shit going on that Matty wanted fuck all to do with, frankly. No offense to the dude, just. No. Kicking some of the wreckage aside, Matty scrambled to draw that circle out, wincing as his supply ran a bit thin. It’d be enough, right? Maybe. He’d stretch it. Did he want to tell Kaden why he saw ghosts? Like hell, if Mama Langley’s hate-on said anything about how she’d raised her son. “It’s, uh - genetic!” Matty shouted back, a little frayed about it. Seemed to work for Nora. Though, Nora was a pretty shit standard for what totally normal people would believe. Obviously. Fuck.

The hot, spattery smell of blood sharpened up, suddenly, tugging at Matty’s teeth until his jaw ached. “I don’t know, man! Maybe she’s just a raging bitch?!” No, the guy didn’t need to hear what mommy dearest was going on about. He shook his head, woozy - a sluggish lick of dark blood dribbled down the side of his cheek, dead and cold. And tried to fix that fucking circle.

Kaden was getting fucking sick of playing duck and cover with a poltergiest. The wounds probably wouldn’t take too long to heal but it still stung. In more ways than one. “Genetic?” Had to be a medium then. Why the fuck was she so mad about a medium? Then his mind jumped to Blanche. Whatever it was, it had to do with her, right? And certainly Regan. There was no doubt there. Fuck. They had to get out of here, but he knew damn well his mother would follow him if they just cut and ran. He had no iron on him. And funny enough, rock bars weren’t exactly filled with it. He looked around on the floor, between the shattered tables and fallen plates, he saw something. A fucking margarita glass. Rimmed with salt. Plastic. Never been so happy to be at a cheap fucking bar. He grabbed it and started swinging it wildly, wielding it like a weapon. “When you see her disappear, fucking run!” he shouted, whirling around the room and waving the salt rimmed glass around.

The hell was Kaden up to? Peeking out around the counter corner, Matty strained to keep his boots in the circle and his eyes on the action. Which was something to see, for fuckin’ sure: Langley, swinging like a drunk playing pinata. Right across his shrieking-mad mom, the spiderwebby substance of her rending apart. And not coming back. For a beat, Matty couldn’t believe it. But, he didn’t have to. Unfrozen, he lurched alive and out - the shattered front window, the shortest path to away from all this. Stumbling wildly into the parking lot, Matty hit the asphalt at a sprint, with a skitter of glass, and didn’t stop. Not until he was far, far away from the blood, and that mess of a bar, and Kaden Langley’s totally batshit mommy issues.

#wickedswriting #chatzy #writing #pour some salt on me #matty #likeamattoutofhell #lauren langley

17 notes · View notes