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soaps-mohawk · 2 days ago

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 40: Where Do We Go From Here?

Summary: Things aren't going as smoothly as anyone would like. Maybe they can fix it. Maybe they can't.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 5,970 words

Warnings: Angst, discussion of nightmares, PTSD, discussion of death and killing people, emotions, so many emotions, angst, a little sliver of comfort

A/N: And it is back!! not super proud of this one but I'm starting out on a filler so...yeah. Really just setting up for the next part where some action starts again. You'll see. Anyway, glad to be back at it and I hope you enjoy!

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John stands at the door, gazing out at the yard. It’s pouring rain, dumping buckets on the roof. The water has pooled on the planks of the deck, splattering with every big drop that pours from the sky. The weather once again mirrors your mood, your sobs audible from your room over the pounding on the roof.

John holds his mug in his hands, staring at the reflection in the window. Kyle and Johnny are sitting on the couch, both looking like kicked puppies. They’re itching to enter your room and go comfort you, but they’ve been kicked out for now. You’re not in the state of mind to be around any of them right now, no matter how badly your sobs tear at their heartstrings.

You haven’t been in that state of mind for a few hours now.

Whatever nightmare had plagued your mind last night, it was particularly awful. You’ve been up since the early hours, waking from a nightmare with a terrified scream that had continued until Kyle finally got you to stop and breathe. His ears are still ringing with it, his mind still pulsing with that fear. Something happened. Someone got in. Someone hurt you.

Nothing happened. No one got in.

The only threat was still just in your mind.

Graves.

He knows that’s at least part of your nightmares. Christine had disclosed that to him quietly on the side. Even she doesn’t know everything that plagues your dreams, but Graves seems to be a common specter in the darkness of your mind.

It makes his blood boil, and not just out of anger for what Graves did to you.

It boils with anger at himself too.

It’s his fault you’re in this state in the first place. He should have known, he should have seen, he should have suspected. He should have never left you there. You should have been his priority over anything else.

How badly he’s failed you.

He lets out a sigh, turning away from the window to move over to the couches. He sinks down with a sigh, resting his elbows on his knees. The little progress you’ve made has regressed with this new string of nightmares, the fear pushing you further and further back into your mind. He’s resolved himself to only get worried when Christine is worried, and right now she’s beginning to look worried. If you regress back again, the chances of bringing you out of that are slim. Sure, there are plenty of options to help, but you have to want them to help.

He knows exactly what will help, you just don’t want it.

He runs a hand through his hair as your sobs begin to quiet. It’s longer than he’s let it get for a long time. They’re all a bit scraggly and ragged looking, worn down and lazy now that there’s no strict rules guiding their lives. None of them quite know what to do outside of the regulations they’ve spent the better parts of their lives living under. He’s been in the military longer now than he hasn’t, and he’s been finding himself itching for that structure again. He can never bring himself to relax and put the job aside even on leave. He only takes it when he has to and usually spends it training and keeping his skills sharp.

Now...now things have changed.

They have no return now. There’s no clear, set time that they have to return to base. They can’t return to base. It would leave them too open to a possible retaliation from Shepherd. They were betrayed by one of their own already, who's to say someone else wouldn’t be just as eager to become a traitor for a chunk of cash? They’re not even truly safe here.

How are they going to go back to base after this? Can he bring himself to take you back there, a place you never felt comfortable in the first place?

Where do they go from here?

He’s been trying not to think too much about it. That’s a dilemma for a different day. That’s thinking too far ahead. Day by day is as far as he dares to take it now.

The door closes quietly, John’s head lifting to watch Christine as she approaches the couch. There’s a slump to her shoulders, something that’s been getting lower and lower as the days have progressed. She’s struggling with this just as much as they all are.

She sinks down on the couch, letting out a long breath. Your sobs have quieted, no sound coming from the room now. The silence is almost eerie after days of constant sounds, good and bad from your room. You were doing better. You were looking more alive and well.

Then this happened.

“She’s asleep.” Christine says, her voice strained. “Finally calmed down enough to nap.” She covers her eyes with a hand, sitting there still for a moment.

“The nightmares?” John asks, glancing at Christine out of the corner of his eye.

“Worse.” She says, her gaze far away. “She's remembering what happened.”

John stares at Kyle and Johnny for a moment, the betas returning his worried gaze.

“Those shadows she killed...” Johnny says.

Christine nods. “She's, uh, not taking it well.”

John runs a hand over his face. He knew it was possible you'd start to remember what happened during the time your omega took control. It wouldn't remain a dark spot forever, though he hoped it would. The things you were forced to do are coming to light now, the things you did to survive because they failed you. Taking the life of someone who deserves it is nothing to them. Taking the life of someone who would take yours just as quickly isn't so much as a second thought.

You're not like them.

You've never had to face that reality before, and you shouldn't have had to.

“One of us should talk to her.” Kyle says.

“I don't think that's the best idea right now.” Christine shakes her head. “She's...regressed a bit. Pushing that on her, while well intentioned, might do more harm than good...” she trails off, her gaze still far away.

The three of them sit there, waiting for what she’s going to say next. He’s not even sure Johnny or Kyle are breathing as they wait patiently for whatever solution Christine might be able to come up with, whatever move she thinks is the best one to take next.

“I want to take her out.” Christine says.

“What?” John asks in surprise.

“She needs to get out of the house. It’s not doing any of us any good sitting in here all day.” She rubs her eyes. “She expressed interest in going for a walk a couple days ago. She needs to get up and moving, start regaining some of her strength.”

John lets out a breath leaning back against the couch. He’s tempted to say no. His knee jerk reaction is to refuse. The world outside isn’t safe. If anyone is watching, if anyone sees them...

There’s always going to be that risk though, and Christine is right. Sitting in the house all day isn’t doing any of them any good. They’re at the mercy of the rain, but even then, he doubts it will keep any of them trapped inside for long.

“When the rain clears up.” He finally says. “We'll discuss it more. But, I think that might be a good idea.”

“What can we do?” Kyle asks, staring at Christine.

She lets out a sigh, covering her eyes with her hand. “I don’t know. I’ve helped hundreds of omegas in crisis and yet I don’t know why this case is so hard.”

“This has become more personal than those cases.” John says.

Christine’s shoulders slump even more. “I know. I try so hard but she’s just so...different from other omegas.”

“This entire situation is different from what you’ve done before.” Kyle says.

“You’re right.” Christine sighs. “The best we can do is let her lead. Do what she needs, give her what she wants. The worst thing that can happen right now is regression. If she regresses too far, we might never get her back.”

“What is it? Tell me what ye need.”

“Can you make me forget?”

“I wish I could.”

“Hit me hard enough on the head I might forget everything. Then we can all just start over.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“Kitten,” Johnny sighs, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I wish I could make those thoughts go away. I wish I could make them mine.”

“I killed people.”

“I know.” He reaches out, touching your hand. “I wish ye didnae have to. Ye were just defending yerself. Those Shadows would have done worse to ye if ye hadn’t.”

You curl up in your chair, turning away from him. “That’s not helpful.”

“Sorry.” He says, letting out another sigh. “We just want to help ye.”

You’re silent for a moment, sitting there listening to the waves. It’s cold this morning, not even the thick blanket draped over you offering much respite. It’s the first morning it hasn’t poured rain in days and you were determined to take full advantage of it despite the objections of your pack.

“I know.” You finally say, staring out at the grey clouds looming on the horizon. The rain will return, just like the dark thoughts constantly swirling in your mind. They make you sick, nausea constantly churning in your stomach and threatening to rise.

Johnny wraps his hand around yours, his palm warm against your cold skin. “Should head inside. Gonnae catch a cold.”

“You know that’s a myth right?” You say, tilting your head to stare at him.

“No it’s not.” He says, pulling your hand between his. “It’s not good for ye being out in the cold.”

“I’ll live.” You say, trying to pull your hand from his, but he holds you firm. He’s stubborn, but so are you.

“Kitten...” He says, almost whining at you. “Go inside please.”

You let out a sigh, staring out at the horizon again. The clouds promise more rain soon, another downpour on its way. You hate it, how much it’s been raining. You just want to be outside, down at the beach, going on walks. Your pack won’t let you though, not while it’s raining, even though they often leave no matter the weather.

It’s not fair.

You’re not a fragile flower and you’re tired of being treated that way. Even though your brain feels like it’s in a blender constantly. Even though the pain of what happened still drives into you like a knife, you just want to be treated like a normal human being again.

“Fine.” You sigh, pushing yourself up to stand. “I’ll go inside.”

Johnny grabs your arm before you can head back in the door. “Ye know we just want the best for you.”

You stare at him for a long moment, emotions swirling in your mind. They are trying. You’ll give them that credit. They’re trying, but not hard enough. “What you think is best and what’s actually best isn’t always the same.”

He looks like a kicked puppy as he lets you go. You turn away before you can feel guilty, heading back inside the cottage.

You pull the blanket tighter around you as you stare at the flickering flames in the hearth. The heat is intense so close, but it’s warming the chill under your skin. It’s getting colder at night, foretelling the upcoming winter. All the blankets in the world couldn’t fight off the chill that’s settled in you at night. You know what might help, but you’re not brave enough to approach that solution.

The footsteps on the stairs don’t startle you in the otherwise silent house, the creak of them audible over the crackle of the logs in the fire.

“I’d add another one.” A voice says from behind you.

“I’m going to.” You say, reaching for the stack next to the fireplace.

“Careful. Put it on the side.”

“I know how to make a fire, thank you.” You snap, shoving the log in before moving it into place with the poker. “I’m not useless.”

“Didn’t mean to imply you were.” It’s silent for a moment as you settle back into place. “What are you doing out here?”

“I’m cold.” You answer simply, not feeling up to giving an entire expose on your current state of mind to the person you want to speak to the least right now.

“We can turn the heat up more.” John says. “Whatever you want to be more comfortable.”

I want you to leave. You bite your lip, suddenly not brave enough to say it out loud.

They are trying.

“Why are you down here?” You ask instead.

“Couldn’t sleep so I came to get a snack.” He says. “You want anything?”

“No.” You say quickly, wrapping the blanket tighter around you. “I’m alright.”

“You sure?” He presses, standing off to your right.

You hesitate for a moment, curling your toes under the blanket as one of the logs snaps. It’s not food you need from him. Your appetite has decreased again with this new wave of horrible things plaguing your mind. “I want to know why,” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “why you left me there.”

John shifts behind you, silent for a long moment.

“I got too caught up in the big picture.” He finally says. “I thought that taking out Shepherd would end everything before it went too far. It’s the only way we’ll ever be safe, and I didn’t consider the lengths he’d go to, the lengths he’d let Graves go to, just to cover his own ass long enough for him to escape. I was wrong in making that decision. You’re not like us. You’ve never been left behind, tortured, had to fight your way out of an impossible situation. You shouldn’t have ever been put in that position. We all failed you. Every last one of us.”

Tears burn your eyes as you stare into the fire. “You left me.”

“I know.” He says, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

“I can’t do this.” You whisper, your knuckles white where they’re gripping the edges of the blanket. The words are coming out and you can’t stop them. Maybe it’s because deep down you remember the better times, when he was a comfort. Someone you could trust to catch you when you fall. “I keep seeing them, seeing what I did, what happened. I killed people.”

“People that would have killed you without a second thought.” He says. “You were defending yourself in a situation where that was unavoidable. It’s not your fault. None of it is.”

“Can we ever move past this?” You ask, your voice quiet and broken.

“I like to think we can.” John says. “It won’t be easy, but if that’s what you want, we sure as hell will work to make it happen. Things won’t go back to the way they were, and they shouldn’t. You deserve better than what we gave you.”

You don’t respond because you can’t. His words float around in your mind, replaying over and over. You want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him, but a deep part of you can’t. He’s made promises before and then broke them. How can you trust this time will be different?

The creak of the stairs wakes you. It’s jarring, pulling you out of a sleep you didn’t know you were in. You’re on the couch in the living room, bundled under a blanket with a decorative pillow under your head. You don’t remember moving to the couch. The fire is nothing more than embers now, but it feels warmer in the house. It’s dawn, the grey light streaming in through the window, chasing away the shadows of night.

“What are you doing out here?” A gruff voice asks you.

You groan, rubbing your eyes. “Fell asleep.”

“On the couch?”

“Think I was on the floor first.” You yawn, pressing your face back into the pillow. “Don’t remember getting to the couch.”

“Why?”

“Got cold.” Your voice is slightly muffled as you pull the blanket up higher.

Simon lets out a sigh before moving around the couch to the fireplace. He adds a couple logs in before lighting it again, the fire crackling back to life. You’re half asleep already as another blanket is draped over you, tucked up around your neck. There’s a feeling of a hand brushing over your head, but that may have just been your imagination as you drift off back to sleep.

You don’t get to sleep long, more footsteps coming down the stairs waking you. A hand does brush over your head this time, the scent of the beach filling your nose. You let out a groan, trying to snuggle deeper into the blankets.

“Sleeping out here this morning?” Kyle’s soft voice reaches your ears.

You grunt, chasing the quickly fading edges of sleep in your brain.

“Breakfast is ready, if you want to get up.”

You are hungry. There’s a quiet rumble of your stomach as you begin to register the smells coming from the kitchen: bacon and eggs and coffee. Johnny is making the coffee most likely. Maybe you’ll have some this morning. You might need it with how groggy you feel.

You stretch out on the couch, trying to breathe some life into your limbs. It’s not the most comfortable couch, definitely not for sleeping, but it’s better than the floor. It was likely John that moved you. He was the only one that knew you were out here last night.

You're not sure how that makes you feel.

It's nice on one hand, that he saved you from the pains of sleeping on the floor. But at the same time it feels like an intrusion. There was a time you wouldn't have thought twice about it. There was a time it would have been normal and expected and you would have thanked him for it.

Now...now you're not sure.

You push yourself up to sit, joints cracking from being stuck in one position for so long. You blink slowly as you sit there for a moment. It’s warm in the house, almost too warm now with your body warmed from sleep. Dr. Keller is sitting at the table, a steaming mug in front of her. Tea, most likely. Maybe coffee. You’re not quite sure. She gives you a soft smile as you rub a hand across your face.

You feel groggy as you push yourself up to stand, letting your stomach and feet guide you towards the smells coming from the kitchen. Kyle guides you to the table with a promise of making you a plate and you take your usual seat at the end of the table facing the kitchen. Dr. Keller is to your left this time, coffee in her mug judging by the smell.

“How did you sleep?” She asks, her hands wrapped around the mug.

“Fine. Got cold.” You say, resting your head in your hand.

“John turned the heat up a bit. We can get you more blankets if you need them.” Dr. Keller says.

You hum, letting your eyes close for a moment. You won’t complain about more blankets, more soft things to lay with. There is one thing you wish you had, though. You’re not quite sure how to ask for it, or that it would even be possible to get.

You jump when a hand touches your back, not realizing you had even dozed off sitting there.

“Sorry.” Kyle says, setting a plate on the table in front of you. “Food’s hot. You want coffee or tea.”

“Coffee.” You say instantly, earning a wide grin from Johnny as he takes his own seat at the table.

“Even split this morning.” He says cheekily, setting his own mug down. “Three against three.”

“Tea is still the superior choice.” Kyle says from the kitchen. “Better for you anyway.”

“Coffee has a lot of health benefits as well.” Dr. Keller says. “So long as you don’t add too much sugar into it.”

“See.” Johnny says, giving them a victorious grin.

“She said so long as you don’t put too much sugar in it.” Kyle says, carrying over your mug of coffee. “You’ll get diabetes from how much you add in.”

“Two spoonfuls isnae too much.” He turns to look at Dr. Keller. “Is it?”

Dr. Keller gives him a worried look. “You might be pushing it there.”

Johnny’s grin turns into a pout. “What do ye mean?”

A ghost of a smile tugs at your lips as you quickly shovel a forkful of eggs into your mouth. As much as the deep pain of betrayal still aches in your chest, as much as you still want to hate them, you have to admit you missed this. It’s the least tense you’ve seen all of them in the last few weeks. Even Dr. Keller’s shoulders don’t seem quite so squared as they have been.

A part of you feels guilty about it. It is your fault deep down. You’re the one keeping them all on edge, driving that wedge between them over and over again. Deep down you’re the one causing the heavy weight that’s settled over the house. You wish you could just go back to normal, you wish you could just wave a wand and make yourself okay again. You wish you could ease their pain just a little bit.

The eggs suddenly don’t taste quite so good anymore.

You force them down regardless in favor of causing another scene, in favor of dragging the mood down. They deserve a little lighthearted moment after everything. They don’t need to know the inner turmoil plaguing your mind.

Simon shifts next to you, his eyes darting to glance at your face. You can feel them, the intensity of his gaze just as sharp as it had been back in the beginning, back before he looked at you with fondness. He’s stiff as he sits there, almost as if he can sense the storm raging inside of you as you force yourself to pretend that you’re fine in favor of keeping the bright mood that’s settled over the table.

Maybe he can sense it. He is an alpha after all. It’s his job to know, to understand. You glance across the table at John, his eyes on his phone as he sips his tea.

Your gaze drops down to your plate as you pick up a piece of bacon, your heart shattering just a little bit more.

“‘S too early.” You whine as hands pull the blanket off of you. Cold air nips at your skin, making you curl up in a ball.

“It’s noon. Come on.” A hand closes around your arm, gently shaking you. “You want to get up.”

You let out a whine, pinching your face up. “No.”

“Trust me. It’ll be worth it.” Kyle says, brushing the hair back from your face.

“Why.” You say, letting out a huff.

“We’re going on a little trip.” Kyle pulls you up, forcing you into a seated position. “Dress warm.”

You’re alone in the room again, the door left open. Light streams in, making you squint against the harsh intrusion. A quick glance at the clock reveals it is, in fact, a little past noon. You took a nap to make up for a night of tumultuous sleep, one of the few things you have to do here in this prison. Nap and read. It’s a lot like your life before the cottage, before everything that happened, except now you’re stuck with your pack around you at all times.

You almost miss the times they were away.

You maneuver yourself so your legs dangle over the edge of the bed as you try to blink the drowsiness away. The nap hadn’t been nearly long enough, but judging by Kyle’s eagerness, they let you sleep a bit longer than they wanted.

You let out a sigh before pushing yourself off the bed, moving to the dresser. You pull out warm clothes, quickly changing. You have no idea what they have planned, what’s going on. There was no frantic rush, Kyle’s energy more excited than anything. It makes you a bit worried as you step out of the room into the living area.

They’re all waiting by the door, watching you as you approach them, rubbing your eyes.

“Come on,” John says, setting a pair of shoes on the floor. “Boots on.”

“What are we doing?” You ask, moving forward automatically.

“We’re taking a little trip.” Kyle answers.

You look at him cautiously as you step into the boots, pulling them on. You haven’t been away from the cottage since you arrived two weeks ago. You’ve barely been let outside, weather permitting. It’s an overcast day today, the world grey outside, but grey is better than rain.

“Ready?” John asks as you stare at him.

“I guess.” You say, still a bit hesitant.

They make no effort to ease your discomfort and nerves.

You’re led out the door and towards the cars by Dr. Keller. Her face is brighter than it has been lately which doesn’t help your nervous energy. She’s excited too, just like the rest of them. You’re not sure why you’re so nervous. Maybe it’s the anxiety of leaving after being trapped inside for so long. You just want to know where you’re going, what it is you’re going to be doing.

Dr. Keller ushers you into the back seat of one of the cars, getting in the other side. Kyle and John climb into the front while Johnny and Simon get into the other car.

You watch the green pass by as they drive, taking in the new landscape. You don’t remember arriving at the cottage. You don’t remember most of the trip at all. It’s all a blur in your memory, much like the events that transpired after your omega took over had been. You wish you could remember the trip over those events. You’d take green rolling hills over your own hands taking lives.

It had been jarring waking in the cottage for the first time. A new place, a lack of memories getting there. You’re beginning to get tired of the pattern. You half expect to fall asleep and wake up somewhere new again most nights. You wouldn’t know any better. A slip of a pill into some food and you’d wake up somewhere halfway across the world.

You like to think they’d at least warn you beforehand.

John pulls the car into a parking lot, parking near a line of trees. Johnny pulls into the parking lot behind John, parking near the entrance. It’s on purpose, you know that much. Everything is about safety and making things look as inconspicuous as possible. Anyone could be a rat. Anyone could be watching.

It’s windier here as you step out of the car, even though you haven't gone far from the cottage. Walking distance, if you were up for a hike. You’re not.

“Come on, kitten.” Johnny says, guiding you through the parking lot and towards a path.

You still don’t know what’s happening as you follow them, Johnny holding your hand as you step onto the rocky path. He leads the way, the others following. John is behind you, hovering in case you slip in the gravel. You do your best not to, despite how quickly Johnny is leading you. He’s more eager than Kyle had been, and you’re sure he’d be running if you could keep up.

You begin to figure out what’s happening as the sound of waves crashing on the shore gets louder and louder. Your chest starts to constrict with emotion as the trees start to get sparser and sparser, a cliff edge visible over Johnny’s shoulder. You want to run now, you want to break ahead and race your way to the edge of the cliff. Johnny, even in his excited state, would catch you before you could take off and potentially hurt yourself.

You might hurt yourself just trying to run.

You hate it.

The land opens before you as you reach the edge of the cliff. The expanse of the sea seems daunting so close, grey and choppy from the wind. Salty air blasts you in the face, rustling your jacket as you stand there above a small beach. It’s empty, but that’s expected for the middle of fall. All the tourists have gone home, those with vacation homes back in better weather for the winter.

You’re glad you’re alone. You wouldn’t want anyone else ruining this moment.

Kyle’s fingers wrap around yours as you stand there, staring down at the beach below. “Come on.”

The gravel turns to dirt as it winds down the side of the cliff, getting steeper as you near the beach. You do nearly slip as you follow Johnny down to the sand, your boots quickly getting muddy. You’re glad for them, understanding why John chose boots over more comfortable shoes.

You pause as your feet sink into sand. You stare out at the water, at the white crests of waves crashing onto the shore. It’s real. It’s not just some mirage, some painting in the background of your life. It’s really here. You’re really here.

No one says anything as you take a few steps forward before squatting down. You scoop up a handful of sand, letting it slip through your fingers. It’s coarse against your cold skin, thicker and rockier than the sand you’re used to, but it’s still sand. It’s still a beach.

You’re at the beach.

You scoop up another handful of sand, letting it run through your fingers again. You want to put some of it in a jar and set it on the nightstand at the cottage. You want to stare at it and remind yourself you’re really at the coast, you’re really just a short drive away from the sea. You want the sand to sink into your skin and flow through your veins and fill every crack that’s formed in your mind.

You’re really here.

You stand up straight, staring out at the water again. Your pack is still behind you, silently watching you. You shuffle forward a couple steps, waiting for one of them to stop you, to grab you and keep you from getting closer, but none of them move. You widen your steps, treading through the soft sand until you reach the edge of the wetter sand where the water was earlier. It’s easier to walk on as you continue to approach the water, the sound of your pack treading through the soft sand disappearing behind you as you get closer and closer to the water. The waves flow up the beach, your feet getting closer and closer to where that water stops.

You half expect them to stop you as you step forward, letting the waves hit your feet. The salty water washes away the mud and sand clinging to your rubber boots, rushing up over the tops of your feet. You stare down at the water, watching it surge upward and around your ankles. You’d keep walking if you were brave enough, let it get higher and higher until it soaked your clothes, but you know they’d stop you. It’s far too cold to risk getting wet. You can feel the chill of the water through your boots as it flows over your feet.

You’re not sure how long you stand there, watching the water rush back and forth, feeling the pressure of it against your boots as you stand in the waves. You’re really here. You’re really standing in the sea.

You finally turn after what seems like an eternity, making your way back up to the softer sand. All of them are standing in a line, watching you. You wonder what’s going through their heads, what they feel standing here. Relief? Happiness? Guilt? Shame? The wind whips at your back, coming right off the water, blowing their scents away from you. What you wouldn’t give to be able to smell them right now.

Tears burn your eyes as you make your way up towards John, trudging through the sand. His cheeks and nose are pink from the cold wind, his beard longer than you’ve ever seen it. You don’t remember the last time you’ve really looked at him up close. His gaze is uncertain as he stares down at you, trying to gauge your next move. He can’t. You know he can’t and it makes you feel powerful.

It shouldn’t, but it does.

“Thank you.” You say finally, a tear sliding down your cheek. “Thank you.”

You can hear them. They don’t know it, but you can. They think they’re speaking quietly, but in the silence of the morning, you can hear almost every word. Dr. Keller’s protests, John's quiet insistence.

Leaving.

That’s the word that caught your attention. Leaving. Someone is leaving. Someone is separating themselves from the pack again, and not just for a trip to town to go to the store. This meaning is different, it hangs differently in the air.

“I don’t think this is a good idea right now.” Dr. Keller says, her voice just barely audible through the open sliding glass door. It’s open just a crack, just enough to hear what’s transpiring inside.

“We won’t have another chance.” John says, his voice insistent. “We have to do this. She deserves it.”

She. You. Whatever it is, it involves you. It always does. You can’t remember a time over the last few weeks when it hasn’t been about you. It’s always about you and you hate it. You almost wish things would go back to the way they were before, when you were a second thought, the one left behind.

You’re going to be left behind again.

“John-”

“I know.” John’s voice is louder again. “We have to do what’s best for our pack, and right now this is it.”

The sliding door opens, the conversation over. Your stomach is churning, nausea eating its way up your esophagus as John crosses the deck towards where you’re seated. His steps are slow and quiet, almost like he’s approaching a wild animal. He might be, depending on how this conversation is going to go.

How are you going to react? You expected it eventually. They’ll always leave, they’ll always put you last and think about themselves first. Are you upset? Are you angry? Is it a relief?

You wish you could feel something right now. Instead you feel numb. Another promise broken, another lie told.

“You’re leaving again.” You say, staring out at the horizon as John takes a seat next to you. You need to get it out first, say what you know before he can say it and break your heart again.

He lets out a quiet sigh, leaning back in the chair. “We are, but you’re coming with us.”

You turn to glance at him, taken aback by his words. You’re leaving too? You hadn’t considered this. The cottage is your prison. You are Rapunzel trapped by the Mother Gothel that is your pack, stuck in the tower for the rest of time.

Leaving?

“There’s something we need to take care of back in the states.” John explains. “You’re coming with us.”

Back in the states? What could possibly be there that is left for you, for your pack?

You don’t like the sound of that. You don’t like the sound of that one bit.

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #John price x reader #captain price x reader #Kyle gaz Garrick x reader #gaz x reader #Simon Riley x reader #Ghost x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #omegaverse

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reidmotif · 2 days ago

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I’ve Got My Eye On You

Summary: Reader is a Special Surveillance agent assigned to spy on Spencer. He manages to see through her cover, and thoroughly enjoys the confrontation that follows.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, f!masturbation, slight dubcon regarding recorded sex, heavily based on that one scene in scandal, iykyk.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

I’d always been good at watching people.

My life had been spent mostly to myself, divulging the information people offered without even realizing. When you talk less, you learn that body language, passing remarks, or even the quirk of an eyebrow gives away more than anyone ever realized– maybe more than an actual conversation at times.

And I took it all in stride, not a single detail left unanalyzed. People were always surprised when I’d mention my observations, finding a way to explain a seemingly unexplainable situation, those around me wondering how on Earth I could’ve been privy to that. I’d always shrug at their queries.

Pay more attention, I guess.

It wasn’t a surprise that I’d ended up here, I suppose, in the end, as an Investigative Specialist for the FBI. I doubt that my listening skills were exactly what landed me the job, but I’d like to believe they contributed more than they actually did. Regardless, I’d never expected the result of the decisions I’d made over the years to lead to this– involved in spying on an agent of our own.

The infamous "Dr Reid".

His specific circumstances had been shrouded in secrecy and mystery, apparently having just been let out of prison. (Prison? How’s he an agent then? Anyway, not my problem).

The Bureau had been curious about erratic behavior on his part, and the string of discrepancies involving the unit he was involved in. Apparently, there had been multiple unforeseen and unprecedented events all occurring under the same team in a relatively small time-frame, and despite smaller investigations, nothing came out of them to warrant any real disciplinary action. Probably why they brought me in, in the hopes of changing that.

I’d been assigned to put up small, virtually undetectable cameras and listening devices within his apartment. 24/7 home surveillance, no exceptions. I couldn’t help but think that the guy really should invest in better apartment security, despite how easy his naivete made my job. His lack of caution surprised me, given the details I’d been given. For a guy who had a penchant for being framed by the ghosts of his past, he sure didn’t live like it. Even as an FBI agent, he essentially had no technology to counter my own, and the height of his protection was a standard deadbolt. Was he insane? Unaware, somehow? Only time would tell, I suppose. And I had plenty of that, to watch and deduce the nature of his mind on my own terms.

My time spent with Spencer resulted in one, overwhelming conclusion. Spencer Reid lived a relatively quiet life. His apartment was barely used, honestly, given the sporadic nature of his job. (Which was a shame, in my opinion, because it’s a nice apartment). When he was at home, he seemed to remain quite unassuming. The positions I’d see him assume often were that of being hunched over on an aging leather sofa, pouring himself into grading papers, or creating lesson plans for his students. Oh, right. Did I mention he was also a professor? He is. I’d assume he likes the job, given how much of himself he gives into it, or maybe that was just who he was as a person. I wasn’t sure yet.

I monitored his life outside of the apartment occasionally as well, just to see what intel I could gather with further investigation. There wasn’t much. Coffee shops. Book shops. Coffee. Books. Coffee- God, does the guy do anything else with his life?

Most days, though, I’d liken him to butter spread too thinly over toast. Sleepless from nightmares that would have him walking around his apartment until daylight broke through the window panes. I felt exhausted just watching the guy, and it seemed insane that he could continue to live on when he left that apartment at the break of dawn. It didn’t seem like he had anyone to talk to, honestly. From what I was seeing, he wasn’t a threat to the Bureau, just a sad, middle-aged man who’d been dealt the most unfair of hands in life.

I’m sure there’s a moral somewhere in all that. To waste your potential on something that gives so little back. Oh, well. My report was nearly finished at this point, and the most I could recommend the higher-ups was to get Spencer a better therapist, maybe. This one wasn’t really helping, it seemed. Besides that, his personal behavior wasn’t indicative of anything worrying to the interests of those managing him.

At long last, it was my final night of watching him. Coincidentally, the date lined up with Halloween, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally be free of this specific survey job. Don’t get me wrong, Spencer seemed nice- but God, his life was boring. I don’t want to say it was like watching paint dry, out of respect, but previous targets had offered at least some part of their life to be interested within. Spencer had nothing. No friends over, no gossip-like phone conversations, no drunk wanderings home. Nothing! I know he didn’t sign up to be watched, but God.

Like, come on. Give me anything here.

Needless to say, I’d become accustomed to the quiet, and this night was no different. If he was following schedule, he should be home right about … now.

Now?

Now…

Silence.

Spencer was definitely a creature of habit, so to not see him adhere to the routine he’d so meticulously stuck to in the past was a bit jarring, but I assumed he was just running late.

A few hours later, I reasoned he must be running really really late. It was bordering on midnight, and he still wasn’t home. I checked train schedules, possible reports of a car crash, just about anything that could keep him from his scheduled appearance at home.

I was just about to call my supervisor to look into whether or not he’d been called out on a surprise case, but that’s when the door of his apartment creaked open, and I felt my shoulders deflate in relief. Okay, he was home. He was going to go to bed and-

He wasn’t alone.

Spencer was dressed in all black, a leather belt adorned with a gold belt buckle being the only color his outfit brought. He wore tiny devil’s ears upon his head, the headband pushing down on the mop of curls that sat atop his head. He looked absolutely delicious, if I must say myself, and it seemed the woman in his arms would agree with me.

He practically pulled her into his apartment, kicking his door in with his leg before slightly fumbling with the lock. As soon as the mechanism slipped into place, his hands were all over her, pressing her flush against his body, as if he couldn’t bear to have any space between them.

For all the time I’d been watching him, none of his behavior indicated the presence of any kind of significant other, so this girl must be a stranger. If this is how Spencer treated strangers though, I was surprised he didn’t have a barrage of women lining up at his door every night.

His lips absolutely devoured the girl, his hand cradling the side of her face, before his thigh slipped in between her legs, possibly to soothe a building ache that had built up there in the time they’d spent together, which I found entirely possible, considering I, personally, was heated from simply watching.

I watched the pixels on the screen with such precision, innocuous shades of red, green and blue painting the most sinful of images. I found myself noting the way his hand snuck up the girls’ dress, the way her breathing hitched as she pulled back, watching as Spencer presumably played with her clit. I could feel myself squeezing my thighs together, recognizing just how wrong it was to be turned on by the scene in front of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. It wasn’t as if this was the first time a target had behaved sexually in front of me. (Or in front of the camera, I suppose.) I’d seen and heard just about anything you could think of, but this was different- in a way. To see Spencer so filthy, so confident, so- interesting. It lit a fire in me that burned with every passing moment he touched this girl.

I’m able to watch him circle over her panties in a way that has her groaning directly into his ear, a smug grin plastering his face as he watches her every reaction.

“Like that?” He murmurs, and I’ve never heard his voice so fucking deep.

She nods frantically, and it only serves to widen his grin. I can feel myself rocking slightly in my own chair, doing anything to try and soothe the fast growing arousal within me, unable to stop from imagining myself in her place. His hands, the feel of hot breath down my neck-

I’m stopped dead in my tracks, however, when his eyes suddenly shift to the camera closest to him, his eyebrow raising, as if in challenge. He continues to whisper in the girl’s ear, and has the galls to wink. I’m horrified, a very sudden and intense heat rising to my cheeks. I can only watch for a second more, before he’s suddenly pulling her away, and I realize he’s taken her within one of the only blind spots within the apartment.

I’m scrambling to turn off the feed, stunned into silence whilst, my heart beating uncontrollably and eccentrically. Oh god. He knew. He knew and he did that?!

I stare into the empty space, a multitude of thoughts inhabiting my brainscape. On one hand, the aplomb shown in that situation was commendable, since most people would react to the knowledge that they’d been secretly watched in their own home for the past few months in a much more hostile way. On the other hand, how did he even acquire that knowledge? The cameras were virtually undetectable, and he’d never let on that he was aware of their presence, and I’d know, considering how closely I’d watched him.

I shake off the thoughts, focusing on something other than the overwhelming mortification coursing through me now.

Alright, tomorrow, get into his apartment, remove the cameras, and hopefully never have to look at the man again. In any capacity, honestly.

When daylight broke, I turned on the cameras for the final time, a bit more sheepish, knowing he was aware of the devices plaguing his home. However, it seemed like he was once again pretending like he wasn’t aware of the looming existence of them, sending his female companion off her merry way once they woke up, before going about his normal routine, heading out of the apartment for what was most likely his morning coffee and then afternoon lecture at the university.

That was my cue. I turned off the cameras, quickly making my way out to sneak into his residence, the heavy door offering little resistance to my advances, my movements quiet and undetectable.

I’m in the process of removing the final camera I had placed in his bedroom, hidden behind a copy of The Sign of Four. Doyle. He had good taste, I could give him that.

I’m just about to turn around and get the hell out of there, when I hear a voice behind me.

“I noticed that one first, you know.”

I turn around slowly, embarrassed and slightly fearful to find Spencer’s eyes meeting mine. I’d watched him for so long, but seeing him now– his eyes were so beautiful. The camera didn’t do him justice.

He continues, despite the silence. “The other ones were harder to spot, I’ll give you that, but once I knew where they were, it was a bit obvious, don’t you think?”

I’m speechless. My mouth is agape, and all he seems to do is smile at my lack of prose.

“Don’t look so surprised. I know this apartment. I’m not here a lot, but I spend enough time to know when things have been shifted around.” His tone is cheeky, and he pauses, almost theatrically to add on:

“I’m sure you knew that though.” His smile turns into more of a smirk.

God, did he have to be so hot?

“Are you going to complain to the Bureau?” I manage out, keeping my eyes steady on him.

“Did you find anything of note to tell them?” He responds, tilting his head with curiosity.

I shake my head vehemently. “No, um. Nothing pertinent to say.” I get my words out in a hurry, my gaze continually trained on him.

He meets my eyes with the same stare. “Then I don’t have much of a reason to complain.”

I nod solemnly. I’m wondering where this situation will lead- what either of our next moves are. Before I can ponder long though, he surprises me and takes a step closer.

“I saw you, you know.” He says. “Thought I was going insane when the same pretty girl kept showing up at the bookstore and coffee shop out of the blue, but I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.”

“Oh.” I whisper. I really wasn’t as good as I thought I was.

“You really shouldn’t beat yourself up.” He says, chuckling with some mirth. “Again, I’m observant. I notice these things. That, and you’re pretty.” He says, forward. “So, more of a reason to notice.”

“Oh.” I reply, yet again, dumbfounded by the events currently transpiring.

“Yes, oh.” He chuckles, before he starts to move closer yet again. “Tell me. Were you watching last night?” He murmurs, his voice dropping a bit deeper as he directly addresses the elephant in the room.

I give a movement of affirmation, because at this point, what could he do? What could I do?

“So you saw.” He mumbles, moving to position himself right in front of me, his eyes darkened and laser focused on my figure.

“Yes.” I whisper, my voice hushed as our proximity decreased, his breath fanning out over my face now. I’d be uncomfortable, if I wasn’t so distracted.

“Tell me.” He whispers, letting his calloused finger finally touch my skin, running down my neck. “Did it turn you on? Watching me with her?”

I feel the familiar heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks, my eyes suddenly widening not only due to the sudden proximity, but also the scandalous nature of his words. Did he mean for me to watch? Was that his plan all along? What was this sick and twisted game he was playing?

“Did it.. get you off?” He whispers, his lips leaning in to kiss lightly at the side of my neck where his finger once was.

I freeze, leaning into his touch and going statue-like all at once. I can’t help the shakiness of my voice when I reply. “I.. wasn’t neutral.”

“Mm.” He murmurs, kissing now at my jawline. “Did you get off? When she did?” He whispers.

“I didn’t watch that long.” I reply, helplessly, as I feel his hands start to envelop my waist, pulling me closer to him.

“What a shame.” He mumbles. “I think you would’ve liked the show. I did it for you.”

At this point, I can barely speak, a slight moan escaping me instead of a coherent reply as his lips continue to leave warm, wet kisses on the expanse of my flesh.

“I’m sure you’re curious.” He says, his voice soft and seductive. “Would you like me to show you what we did?”

There’s no hesitation, finally, a resounding thought I can translate from brain-to-mouth for him, in complete certainty.

“Yes.” I manage out, breathlessly.

He makes a noise of satisfaction, quickly pushing me onto the bed.

“I’d already gotten her wet by touching her before, but if my suspicions are correct.” He murmurs, his hands working deftly to undo my jeans and feel the wetness that had accumulated in between my thighs. “You already are.” He finishes.

I let out a small whimper as his fingers touch the heated flesh, unable to help my sensitivity to his small, calculated strokes over my clit through my underwear. His fingers starts to move a bit more aggressively, upon feeling the wet patch that had formed there, the flimsy fabric doing little to hide the stickiness he was now collecting on his fingers. He quickly pulls them off as well though, bringing his slightly damp fingers to his mouth, tasting the hint of my arousal that had accumulated there. His eyes were dark, watching my face for any reaction, and in that moment, I know all he can see is pure want.

I can see the same hunger within his eyes, and I feel a rush of pride as the approval radiates off of him.

“What next?” I whisper, already desperate for his next slew of ministrations. I don’t care how needy I looked. I was needy. I’d spent so long watching him, and now he was here.

“She wanted my mouth.” He murmurs, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His thumb brushes over my clit, his tongue running against plump, pink lips, wetting them, watching over me with a predatory gaze.

Before I can respond, he’s suddenly everywhere, ducking his head and allowing his tongue to brush over my sex in broad, wet strokes. My response is immediate, my hips bucking up to meet him in a frenzied motion. It seems that he relishes in whatever control he can have in this situation, because he quickly holds down my hips in a firm grip, squeezing the fat there while he continued to ravage me.

I can barely look at him, pretty brown locks splayed in his face, his lips moving hypnotically against my cunt. Little whimpers escape me, absolutely aching for more. He seems to catch on, and flicks his tongue over me, before suckling against my clit. It’s wet, messy, and the picture of debauchery– and it’s enough to drive me over the edge, my hands gripping the sheets as I cry out his name.

He seems to be unaffected, getting off his knees, his mouth glistening with my release. The sight makes me wish he could do it again, but before I can get a word in, he’s positioning himself over me, caging me against the bed.

“Then I fucked her.” He whispers, starting to undo his belt with his free hand. “Can I?”

I nod, feeling a wave of anticipation, before registering the sensation of the head of his cock nudging my entrance. I feel my chest tighten, watching him with bated breath, absolutely exhilarated.

“Relax.” He whispers, kissing the lobe of my ear. “You’re in good hands.”

He utters the last word, before sliding into me, a hushed gasp leaving the both of us. He groans in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the feel of my warm, wet cunt around him. He takes a moment, before he’s setting a steady pace, his hips bucking rhythmically into me in a way that’s designed to bring us both so much pleasure.

I can’t help the string of moans that come out with every slide of his cock inside me, my legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer than he already is. My hands grip onto his shirt, clawing onto the fabric to find any purchase, wanting– no, needing him on me.

Is it odd to wish a stranger could crawl into your skin itself?

“Fuck, Spencer.” I moan, unabashedly. “You feel so good.”

“You do too.” He groans, his arms braced on either side of my head before gently lowering himself to crash his lips against mine in a messy kiss.

I can feel myself barreling towards release, as is he, if the twitch of his cock inside me were to mean anything. It’s not long before his hand reaches in between where our bodies are met, rubbing my clit in fast, small circles. It’s intense in the best way possible, my body barely being able to process how good it felt in the moment.

“Come for me.” He moans, in between kisses. “Wanna feel you around me. Please.”

I can’t help but obey his words, my cunt convulsing around him in obedience as he subsequently finds his release inside me, groaning loudly as his hips thrust erratically.

He pulls out, and we’re a tangle of limbs, sweaty and sated, breathing heavy.

Of course, it’s him, yet again, to break the silence.

“Two things.” He mumbles, breathlessly.

“Mm.” I reply, weakly, my head a mess of airiness and complacency after the orgasm he’d just brought me to.

“One. I want your name.” He says, rolling to his side to get a better look at my face.

“That can be arranged.” I murmur, nodding dreamily.

“Second.” He whispers, kissing my cheek. His voice takes on a teasing quality to it, before leaning to brush his lips against my ear.

“You missed a camera. Behind the plant. They don’t stop recording, do they?”

okay wowww. clearly this was meant for halloween, if you couldn't tell! this is one of those pieces where i'm like.. hmm .. do i like this? question mark? do i want to put it out? hmm .. but regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed it!! please, please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed!!! it is sooo important as an author that i get some feedback and know what you guys think, in any capacity. i truly appreciate all of it <33 thank you for reading, thank you for everything!!!

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follyfitzurse · 3 days ago

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100% agree, and if you'll suffer a divergence from the original point, I'd like to offer an example in contrast with your description, because I find it refreshing and, honestly, it means a lot to me.

It's not a perfect example by any means, but 1950's Harvey with Jimmy Stewart, despite being a comedy, is very much aware of the awful nature of sanitaria, and points to the oppressive and violent nature of psychiatric practice at the time (and, unknowingly, nowadays), including a physically violent orderly and a psychiatrist who orders excessive and destructive treatments, up to and including what is, as I read it, an softened allusion to a lobotomy. It also includes family members who feel ashamed (and are demonstrably socially shamed by their peers) about Elwood, the main character of non-normative psychology (his best friend is a six-foot-three-and-a-half-inch invisible white rabbit with whom he goes out drinking), thus leading them to try and put him in a sanitarium (wherein comedy ensues, for once). It's relevant, I think, because while Elwood isn't "sane" according to the people around him, he's also the best person in the film; he makes friends with anyone and everyone, treats everyone with polite respect, and only "sins" by not picking up social cues and being a bit lost in his own train of thought (you get it). The "monsters" in other words are the family and medical staff who want to confine him, overwrite him, change him. It's a clear dynamic of villainy, made obvious by the main "antagonist," Elwood's sister Veta, when she has a change of heart in the 11th hour, thanks to an act of God (read: Harvey) and just, like, three seconds of empathy.

As I said, it's not a perfect film, but it ends with the non-normative character staying just the hell the way he is, the fact being that there's nothing the hell wrong with him. He's considered clinically insane by most of the rest of the cast, but by the end, almost everyone accepts Elwood for the person he is: a kind and thoughtful and pleasant person who chooses to see the best in people and tries, when he can, to be a good person. Overly idealized and overlooks the pain and complication of mental illness? Yes. Saccharine? Sure. Focused on a white man in a white hetero-normative patriarchal society, with the faults that are implicit to such a film? Of course. But every time I watch it and see Elwood living as himself, wearing no mask and shouldering no shame, it makes me feel a little less awful about feeling like I'm busted in the brain. So maybe it matters, and maybe it counts.

The worst thing is that there is so much potential for exploring the horror of psych wards from the angle of medical abuse, ableism, forced treatment/drugging, loss of autonomy, power imbalance, demonization, dehumanization, etc, and YET the horror genre keeps defaulting to "insane asylums and psych wards are scary because there are mentally ill people in there"

#harvey

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reasonsforhope · 11 hours ago

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"As a Deaf man, Adam Munder has long been advocating for communication rights in a world that chiefly caters to hearing people.

The Intel software engineer and his wife — who is also Deaf — are often unable to use American Sign Language in daily interactions, instead defaulting to texting on a smartphone or passing a pen and paper back and forth with service workers, teachers, and lawyers.

It can make simple tasks, like ordering coffee, more complicated than it should be.

But there are life events that hold greater weight than a cup of coffee.

Recently, Munder and his wife took their daughter in for a doctor’s appointment — and no interpreter was available.

To their surprise, their doctor said: “It’s alright, we’ll just have your daughter interpret for you!” ...

That day at the doctor’s office came at the heels of a thousand frustrating interactions and miscommunications — and Munder is not isolated in his experience.

“Where I live in Arizona, there are more than 1.1 million individuals with a hearing loss,” Munder said, “and only about 400 licensed interpreters.”

In addition to being hard to find, interpreters are expensive. And texting and writing aren’t always practical options — they leave out the emotion, detail, and nuance of a spoken conversation.

ASL is a rich, complex language with its own grammar and culture; a subtle change in speed, direction, facial expression, or gesture can completely change the meaning and tone of a sign.

“Writing back and forth on paper and pen or using a smartphone to text is not equivalent to American Sign Language,” Munder emphasized. “The details and nuance that make us human are lost in both our personal and business conversations.”

His solution? An AI-powered platform called Omnibridge.

“My team has established this bridge between the Deaf world and the hearing world, bringing these worlds together without forcing one to adapt to the other,” Munder said.

Trained on thousands of signs, Omnibridge is engineered to transcribe spoken English and interpret sign language on screen in seconds...

“Our dream is that the technology will be available to everyone, everywhere,” Munder said. “I feel like three to four years from now, we're going to have an app on a phone. Our team has already started working on a cloud-based product, and we're hoping that will be an easy switch from cloud to mobile to an app.” ...

At its heart, Omnibridge is a testament to the positive capabilities of artificial intelligence. "

-via GoodGoodGood, October 25, 2024. More info below the cut!

To test an alpha version of his invention, Munder welcomed TED associate Hasiba Haq on stage.

“I want to show you how this could have changed my interaction at the doctor appointment, had this been available,” Munder said.

He went on to explain that the software would generate a bi-directional conversation, in which Munder’s signs would appear as blue text and spoken word would appear in gray.

At first, there was a brief hiccup on the TED stage. Haq, who was standing in as the doctor’s office receptionist, spoke — but the screen remained blank.

“I don’t believe this; this is the first time that AI has ever failed,” Munder joked, getting a big laugh from the crowd. “Thanks for your patience.”

After a quick reboot, they rolled with the punches and tried again.

Haq asked: “Hi, how’s it going?”

Her words popped up in blue.

Munder signed in reply: “I am good.”

His response popped up in gray.

Back and forth, they recreated the scene from the doctor’s office. But this time Munder retained his autonomy, and no one suggested a 7-year-old should play interpreter.

Munder’s TED debut and tech demonstration didn’t happen overnight — the engineer has been working on Omnibridge for over a decade.

“It takes a lot to build something like this,” Munder told Good Good Good in an exclusive interview, communicating with our team in ASL. “It couldn't just be one or two people. It takes a large team, a lot of resources, millions and millions of dollars to work on a project like this.”

After five years of pitching and research, Intel handpicked Munder’s team for a specialty training program. It was through that backing that Omnibridge began to truly take shape...

In order to achieve that dream — of transposing their technology to a smartphone — Munder and his team have to play a bit of a waiting game. Today, their platform necessitates building the technology on a PC, with an AI engine.

“A lot of things don't have those AI PC types of chips,” Munder explained. “But as the technology evolves, we expect that smartphones will start to include AI engines. They'll start to include the capability in processing within smartphones. It will take time for the technology to catch up to it, and it probably won't need the power that we're requiring right now on a PC.”

At its heart, Omnibridge is a testament to the positive capabilities of artificial intelligence.

But it is more than a transcription service — it allows people to have face-to-face conversations with each other. There’s a world of difference between passing around a phone or pen and paper and looking someone in the eyes when you speak to them.

It also allows Deaf people to speak ASL directly, without doing the mental gymnastics of translating their words into English.

“For me, English is my second language,” Munder told Good Good Good. “So when I write in English, I have to think: How am I going to adjust the words? How am I going to write it just right so somebody can understand me? It takes me some time and effort, and it's hard for me to express myself actually in doing that. This technology allows someone to be able to express themselves in their native language.”

Ultimately, Munder said that Omnibridge is about “bringing humanity back” to these conversations.

“We’re changing the world through the power of AI, not just revolutionizing technology, but enhancing that human connection,” Munder said at the end of his TED Talk.

“It’s two languages,” he concluded, “signed and spoken, in one seamless conversation.”"

-via GoodGoodGood, October 25, 2024

#ai #pro ai #deaf #asl #disability #translation #disabled #hard of hearing #hearing impairment #sign language #american sign language #languages #tech news #language #communication #good news #hope #machine learning

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katiascraft · 3 days ago

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“I need to confess. I told you a lie. I said you were the love of my life.” | LN4

part 2 of this.

Parings: Lando Norris x Ex!Bisexual!Reader.

Summary: after leaving Lando, you realized what real love was like. Unfortunately, he didn’t and all he could think about every time he looks at his new parter is you.

Now playing: “L’AMOUR DE MA VIE” by Billie Eilish.

Word count: +2k.

Warnings: angst (?) insults (?) cursed words. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: maybe this sucks. well I don’t know but I just came to this idea for a part 2 no one asked of this but yeah. Reader deserved a happy ending ❤️‍🩹 Don’t forget to like, comment or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

It’s been 10 months since the worst day of your life. The day you had enough of the place that you weren’t enough for. The place who made you so miserable and insecure. The place that broke you in so many pieces it turned you to dust. The place where you never want to go back to.

It’s been the hardest 10 months of your life. Mourning the life you thought you would have forever was the worst process you got yourself through. How you had to not only get over your ex, Lando, but also the you that wasn’t gonna be you anymore for the rest of your life. And that was the hardest past. Let go of who you were when he was in your life and let go of all the memories. It was like learning to be a functioning human being again. And you also thought you couldn’t bear with being single. You felt so ashamed of not remembering how to approach people or even how to feel attractive yourself. You were nothing after that day.

For your family and friends was heartbreaking too. Not only because they had to mourn lando that now was out of your life so then their lives as well, but also the you they knew before and during the relationship. And now learning to know this new you.

It was hard for the first 3 months but thanks to your friends and intense therapy sessions you eventually got better. You started discovering a part of yourself you didn’t know existed. Leaving lando changed you not 180 degrees but 360. You changed your style, your hair, your humor, your attitude. You spoke up. Had a strong opinion. You started being more selective with people and for a long time you remained single. you worked on you. Trying to give yourself back everything that relationship took away. You made new friends and moved to New York to start a new life. In that city you found you loved music and storytelling so you started a musical career on YouTube and became kind of famous. You also went to university. And now you’re a content creator, you upload vlogs of your everyday life and opinions. You love fashion like crazy and post your outfits on Instagram and TikTok along with your music. And you are back into being happy. Not only with your life but with yourself. You love who you are and what you do for a living. There’s no one you have to follow or leave everything behind. You live now in your own world where you are the thing that matters the most. You feel so grateful you made it through.

But you were also madly loved for who you are. Tania was your new girlfriend. You didn’t even know you liked girls as well. You tried with guys but none of them felt right for you until you met Tania in a little music shop two blocks away from your apartment. It was the most romantic way of meeting someone you believed. You two went to the same shop to buy the same album and oh coincidence of life there was only one copy of it. And that’s how you met. She gave it to you and so you offered her to come to your place and listen to it together. Yeah you offered that to a stranger but she looked so beautiful. You felt something so weird you haven’t ever felt before in your life. His blonde hair so shiny and his brown eyes so deep you could drown in them with no problem. She was gorgeous.

In fact, you never felt so seen until you met her. The way she actually listened to what you had to say. The way he understood your insecurities and tried to help you and figure it out together. The way you could laugh for hours non-stop until you went dry from crying of laughter. When you felt how you felt with her you knew Lando didn’t matter at all. He never loved you for who you were. He never appreciated all of the sacrifices you did for him just because you thought you loved him your entire life. The way you listened and supported him anywhere, anyhow, whenever. You gave everything for him, but what about you? He never noticed you. He never saw you. He never cared about you.

Realizing that hurt at first but then you understood it was the wrong person at the wrong time. Because if you hadn’t been through what he put you through then this wouldn’t be your life and you wouldn’t be this loved.

But you know what they say, life’s a bitch so here you were again in Monaco for Alexandra’s birthday. It was gonna be a huge event in a yacht for all of her friends. So of course you knew lando was coming and you also knew because of Alex he had a new girlfriend as well. You weren’t intimidated by him but you felt a little insecure you know. You felt rather uncomfortable. But Alex was your friend and she was so nice she invited Tania as well and few of your hometown friends so you wouldn’t feel left apart. Alex knew you so well. You always have struggled with fitting in. She was really sweet. But at the same time you were also so excited to see the guys again. You talked to Pierre and kika. They were so excited to see you. You missed them all of course you did. Moving countries and having an ex who drives along them made things ticky. It was complicated to meet and hang around outside weekend races during the year and of course you wouldn’t assist knowing lando was there. You didn’t want to see him. So tonight is fireproof. If you see him again and survive then the paddock should get ready to see you every now and then with you gorgeous girl.

She knew about Lando of course. And she was the most supportive angel to you. Of course she also hated him. And probably could kill him if you let her. But she won’t just because you asked her.

you were going by taxi. You didn’t have your car because you were on the other side of the world and you wouldn’t waste money renting one just to go to a party in a yacht. You didn’t care about appearances anymore. You got to the harbor just in time. Most of the invited guests were already there. You got there with Tania in your hand and your group of friends. You looked around seeing so many familiar faces and the first one to run to you and hug you tightly was Kika followed by Pierre. You giggled on her shoulder hugging her as well.

“Oh my god girl you look fucking beautiful what the fuck I missed you so much” she said on your shoulder so excited to see you. It flattered your heart.

“I missed you too, my love” you said sweetly. And when you pulled apart you hugged Pierre and introduced Tania to them. They were always so warm. You really missed them. A few minutes passed and you were talking along with a lot of the formula 1 drivers and their partners just like the old days. You felt so part of it. And so loved. And all of them were so nice to Tania. She was so excited that she met Max and he posed for a picture with her that it melted your heart completely. You didn’t see lando by the way. He hasn't arrived yet. But Carlos didn’t either so probably they were coming together. After 15 minutes, the birthday girl finally arrived with her prince in hand and all of the guests were there. The yacht was ready as well. Lando was there with her. You knew her of course you did. She was friends with Max and Kelly. Of course you remember her. Lando is so predictable. You wanted to laugh in his face but you didn’t. You didn’t even say hi. You didn’t want to and you guess he didn’t either because he barely looks at you when he arrived.

(…)

The party was formidable and you were already drunk laughing and posing. Kika was trying to take a couple of pictures of you and Tania and the sunset behind you. It was a beautiful picture.

“Oh my god you’re so beautiful” she said finally ending the photo shoot so she showed you the pictures.

It felt so satisfying being back and not giving a fuck about Lando. All of the guys were so welcoming and sweet like they always had been with you.

Tania had to go to the bathroom. “You want me to go with you titi?” You called her by her nickname you created. She smiled and gave you a kiss on your lips.

“I’m okay baby. I’ll be right back” she said and after giving you one last kiss she disappeared through all of the people around heading to the bathroom. You stayed with your group of friends dancing around and having fun. Alex was there two sharing with all of us. You loved that woman. She was one of your closest friends who was there with you to hold you and listen. She knew what it was like. But she is loved unlike you weren’t. You were enjoying yourself until you heard someone clearing their throat like exaggerated. You turned to find lando clearly drunk looking at you with puppy eyes yet so dark. You of course didn’t like to see him.

“Y/n we need to talk” he said almost in a whisper so no one could hear him but you. Inside you felt disgusted. His voice was once your favorite sound, one that could send chills down your spine. Now it kinda repulses you.

“No, we don't need Lando. Just pretend I don’t exist” you said clearly upset by his behavior.

“But I can’t y/n. I couldn't stop looking at you since I arrived. I can’t get you out of my head. I tried. But I don’t know what else to do!” He was clearly drunk. And you were unbothered to be honest. You noticed Carlos and Oscar heard him and looked at you. You just rolled your eyes at lando.

“Then it’s not my fucking problem lando. You had me but you couldn’t give a damn about me. Sorry it's too late. I’m happy now and I am loved” you spitted about to turn when he grabbed your arm for you not to go.

“You said I was the love of your life. What happened to that? I know you’re the love of my life. Please, y/n” he said kind of desperately. You looked at him with a poker face. You felt nothing at all. And yes you were surprised but also so proud. Lando Norris meant nothing at all finally. He couldn’t move you. He didn’t have power over you anymore. You won.

“Well then I need to confess I lied. You weren’t the love of my life Lando. You were the motherfucker of my life. You fucking destroyed me. So stop with all of this bullshit” you said Angry. You were saying the truth without being afraid of it. You didn’t care anymore. Now your life is yours and he had no power over it. And you’re fucking happy. You just needed to make sure he knew it. And watch him suffer. And you could see something broke inside of him when he heard you saying that. Fortunately Tania came back from the bathroom just in time.

“Y/n, babe, is everything alright?” She asked, watching lando a little confused but controlling her desires to kill him right there.

You smiled at her. “Yeah beba all good now that you are here” you said, grabbing her by her waist and kissing her gently. She grabbed your face a little surprised at first. But she couldn’t say no to your lips. She was addicted. you didn’t care lando was there. You just kissed and turned to your group of friends ignoring that he was the guy you loved just like he did when he was with you.

#my work!🧉#lando norris #lando norris angst #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x female reader #lando norris imagine #lando x you #lando x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #ln4 x reader #ln4 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 fanfic

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dcxdpdabbles · 1 hour ago

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DCxDP idea: Yeti Orders

Danny Fenton gets sent to Gotham by a worried FrostBite who thinks he's overworking himself. Danny will do no hero work for an entire year on his Yeti doctor's order to let his core heal from overuse.

He was even shipped through a portal to a similar universe with almost exact ectoplasm levels so that his usual foes would not bother him. The plan was to hide as a human in Gotham, letting his poor core get the much-needed rest.

Frostbite's contacts—whoever they were—managed to set up Danny's fake identity, complete with a home to call his own.

It was a somewhat run-down place, but it was isolated from the rest of the city due to some gas leak a few years back. It was safe to move into, but no one wanted to face the memories of the tragedy. Danny lives alone in the far corner of the city and loves it.

Danny is also told to try to avoid any high-stress-inducing work, so with that in mind, he finds himself applying for a job at the public library. He's a just age out of the system orphan who moved to the big city to try and make a new life for himself.

Every day, he skips onto the city bus, which stops just outside his street; he rides towards the center of Gotham, picks up a latte and some new pastry at the cafe near his work, and spends days filing away books. He gossips with his co-worker Barbara about his nonexistent love life and starts to feel normal for the first time since he was fourteen.

Danny giggles with Barbs about the most eligible bachelor under forty list two months into his medical retreat. He is swooning over Bruce Wayne- though Babs makes a face - when the door to the library is kicked open.

The two librarians gasp as a group of men wearing question marks march in a group of tightened people at gunpoint. Danny doesn't have time to react before two barrels point at him, and a man yells for them to join the group.

He is forced to kneel alongside random citizens unlucky enough to have been caught on the street. Babs is knocked off her chair to the ground. The man laughs as she tries to drag herself closer to the group, which causes Danny's core to flaar in rage.

Two hours go by, with everyone on their knees, surrounded by guards. They are hostages, but what for, Danny doesn't know. All that he can pray for is for everyone to stay calm until help comes.

Sadly, that doesn't seem to be the case when a baby wakes in his mother's arms and won't stop crying. The guards quickly lose patience with the panicking woman until they drag her away from the group and rip her child from her arms.

Danny can't stay by and watch anyone, not with the gun being pointed at a little one.

He ignores the ache his core thumps with as he prepares to change into Phantom and save everyone. Yes, Frostbite will be angry, which may set back all the healing he's done, but Danny doesn't think he has a choice.

"I'm going-"

A crash from overhead interrupts his battle cry as a figure drops down on the main guard. Danny watches, amazed, dumbfounded, as the person does some quick flips, kicks, and punches, dancing out of the way of bullets and taking down the kidnappers one right after the other.

They didn't even use powers. Just some form of martial arts. It was amazing.

Soon, the figure stands, surrounded by bodies, and really, this should be on a poster; it's such an excellent shot. The person, now that he's not a blur bouncing around the room kicking ass, looks like a man with a with a metal staff. He has a red and black costume, with a long black cape on his shoulders.

He walks over to the woman, handing her back the baby that he managed to save mid-punch. She clunches to her child, sobbing so hard she shakes and the man carefully offers her some comfort.

Danny might just be in love.

"Is everyone alright?" a new voice asks suddenly, right in the middle of the circle of hostages, causing Danny to release a scream. Seeing as everyone stops to turn to him, he is not proud of the fact. Danny glances at the newcomer who spoke, feeling his face heat up.

This one is mostly in blue, but his outfit is obviously made from the same material as the bo-staff man. He has an amused smile on his lips, which should be illegal.

"Don't mind, Danny," Babs says as someone helps her back into her chair. "He's not from Gotham. This is his first Bat encounter."

Everyone nods like that makes sense, no longer staring at him like he lost his mind. More and more Bats eventually show up, having defeated the Riddler- apparently a man who regularly kidnaps people to make riddles out of?- and everything gets sorted.

The Bats stay long enough for the police to show up and haul the goons to jail. Witness statements are taken. The medics treat anyone injured, and in all the chaos, the Bats vanish.

Babs closes the library early, sending Danny home with a relieved smile and the next two days off. At that time, he finds out everything he can about the Bats, and he is amazed that a whole clan of them is running around saving Gotham.

Danny quickly realizes that he doesn't need to be Phantom here. The city already has heroes keeping her safe.

Instead, he becomes the Bat Clan's number-one fan. Buying a laptop just to join fan forums, watch old footage of the Clans, and join the BatBurger loyalty program.

By the time the Libary reopens, Danny caved into the urge to write fanfiction. He uses Phantom as his username, figuring no one would ever know. He may enjoy his yeti orders a little more now.

Meanwhile, Babs is showing Tim the fanfiction about Red Robin falling in love with a civilian. She laughs at how much Tim gets into it because Danny really does have a talent for the written word.

"Has he written anything else?" Tim asks once he catches up with the latest chapter.

"He just posted a new story about Batman falling in love with Bruce Wayne," Babs says, watching the numbers on his views rise. "It's only five chapters so far, but apparently, the world-building is amazing."

"Phantom wrote that the Bats were a ghosts of some kind." Dick yells from where he is also reading the Red Robin fanfiction, "Frankly, I'm flattered by how hot he made Nightwing sound."

"You sure he's not a threat?" Tim asks, clicking open the new fic with barely concealed glee.

"No. Danny has a weak heart. Per his doctor's orders, he can't be in any stressful situation. He's just a sweet kid who became our fan after the save from Riddler." Babs says, "I highly doubt we'll see him near the cape scene."

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Yeti's order #Part 1 #Dead Tired #Danny is new to town #He writes fanfiction #He's going to be that one fan #Frostbite is unaware of the crime rates in gotham #Danny is just a guy

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jack-bytez-genuine-corner · 1 day ago

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I hate being politically knowledgeable so I'll give some real quick off the cuff reasons why you shouldn't doom scroll but should be a little hopeful and stay engaged, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't take a break over long periods, I'm basically just laying out some potentials for why you should be joyful towards 2026.

* 2/3rds of government would be needed to enact a large chunk of Project 2025 not counting outright SCOTUS intervention. This matters as for the SCOTUS to even exist as an institution Trump can never be more powerful than they are, putting their interests square opposite of Trump's want to be a dictator. Similarly the business wall street interests that propelled Trump to this point will be facing the harsh realities of an unstable economy long before anything even happens. As Trump becomes more unglued he will lash out more and more which will put Wallstreet, that only wanted him for the immediate sell off we're seeing now, pressed between a dictator wannabe's wishes and a US that is even more isolated from it's allies and trade partners while the citizenry themselves are forced to buckle down due to the very little high tariffs that will double the price of everyday goods forcing companies to either drastically drop prices and sell at a loss or keep prices high like they are now and push it off on the consumer who will buy infinitely less as a result. The most scary part of the Republican agenda is a deck of cards that falls over predicated entirely on Republicans ability to maintain the balance between worshipping corporations and keeping the peons angry and content enough to not strike out.

* 2026 is an inevitable Dem flip for 2 reasons. 1, people will actually live with Trump again and will remember exactly why so many people found him unpalatable in the first place. You can also be sure that any RNC mandate to ban say "Porn", that being anything queer or woman health centric, IVF, Abortion and the rolling back of social safety nets will inevitably cause innocent people to die and shell shock the exact same people who voted for him this time around. After all it's incredibly hard to be Latino, MAGA and happy when your own elected officials hate your guts and very real people you know are being deported in one of the most expensive and brutal moves in American history, rivaling Asian internment camps. 2, none of this is predicted on Trump doing anything more than what he already has promised to do and it is not reliant on Republicans being actual, considerate human beings. Even looking at the vote currently lots of voters chose the couch over voting for Harris with Trump propelling his margins in large part due to Fox News, Rogan, Musk, etc. Dems for their part can just play the fact he is killing any indictments against him, can play the populous card as blue dog conservative l institualist Dems is more dead than ever before and actually focus on the issues that get Dems out to vote, and any and every gaff is just going to be free fuel for Dems. Even more, legacy media has effectively scorned more and more Americans who are now engaging alternative media sources like Brian Tyler Cohen alongside other podsters. I include him specifically due to his high quality but you have the Pod Save America guys, you have The Bulwark, all the way to the obvious loony bin manosphere with the first three being examples of HOW Dems can appeal and win future races while the last one is a highlight of a soon to be burned content mill, most notably because, again, it's going to be real hard to hate women that much when women you know and love have to suffer for no reason. You can also guarantee that the worse parts of Trump's base can and will be reinvigorated to be horrible people which is, again, part of why he lost in 2020 to begin with.

* I mentioned Wallstreet, courts and businesses earlier but it is no secret that the incompetency in each of these places is seeping through to a pretty forceful change towards unions, but even past that they have hit the point where they are the dog who caught the speeding car. Taking the business interests first, consumers have become more and more direct with their connection with businesses not being predicated on convenience nor price but on morality. When Target and Bud Light caved to altright extremists who believe the very idea that different people shouldn't be allowed to exist that opened up a Pandora's box that has seen Target and Bud Light continue to lose business, not because Republicans were their core base, but because the common person believes that queer people are acceptable while treating them as second class is not acceptable. Tesla and Musk are on the up in the stock market but the reality is that Tesla itself has been seeing less and less sales vs 100% tariff Chinese EV's due to Musk's extremism. The immediate bump they're seeing now is great for the current rot economy where infinite growth is the only acceptable outcome for investors, but there is absolutely a potential for these companies to scorn so many people that they become persona non grata and can't continue to operate. We've seen the same thing with anti DEI measures and book bans leading to less teachers and schools, abortion bans leading to less workers period, you combo that with the guaranteed hyper inflation the tarriffs will cause and the financial strife we're looking at an economic down turn that a golden parachute can't save you from, mostly because the people themselves will want a lot more than they were demanding prior. For Courts, the overturning of the Chevron decision, combo'd with the historically low effort supreme court means that more and more laws are becoming impossible to enforce, requiring constant SCOTUS intervention, but if that keeps up like we are already seeing it do so the courts will become paralyzed and cause unrest that we have not seen before, again, as the stalling tactics they used to save Trump will now be the reason for people to be subjected to unjust laws waiting on appeal. The SCOTUS, for their part, is guaranteed to be Republican majority who can and will overstep yet again like they did with Roe, but they can't cede power fully to Republicans/Trump because if they do they will cease to have any power, because dictators don't need a court because they are the court. This tightrope means that any dissent is very likely going to cause these current supporters of the RNC being forced to buck the current support they give. This will be made even worse for them when inevitably Trump pardons January 6th insurrectionists, his cronies and himself, reigniting the heated eyes on the courts without the safety net of Dem institutionalists who will likely lose all power following the collapse of the Harris and Biden campaign. Reminder that it was a nigh gift to Republicans that Biden appointed Merrick Garland, a feckless, cowardly institutionalist himself that was so scared of Republican name calling he refused to actually try and charge Republicans WE KNOW we're involved with the insurrection in order to seem nonpartisan, the miscalculation is that there will BE no more feckless conservative Dem institutionalists as the main two are no longer in the running for leadership with Obama and Clinton having now burned every perceivable bridge to guide the party. I won't say this will lead to a Bernie progressive party, but it will absolutely be more populist and you're going to see way less outreach to Republicans and far more to actual voters who actually matter. Republicans win on low turnout, this was a low turnout election, and NOTHING increases turnout like rage, and honestly? American Dems have a lot more to be angry about that Republicans at this point given the complete and total failure of every single institution meant to act as a check on the President and Political officials.

* The only bill Republicans could pass among themselves was a tax cut for the rich from 2016 to 2018, with a lot of their "Accomplishments" being pen and paper executive orders which are just as easily made as they are broken. Their current R House Congress is one of the least productive in history. Do you truly believe they can actually pull off any dangerous bills or constitutional amendments without absolutely fucking themselves over, especially now that McConnell is out of the picture in Senate and any competent Republican in the House like Cheey, the only person who was capable of getting Republicans the SCOTUS and the only person capable of pretending the party has any morals? The answer is they can't. I have no doubts they'll pass some horrible shit, but will they have to kill the filibuster? Will they have a house majority? If they have a house majority by how much and will they play nice long enough among themselves to pass the bills? After all Gaetz and other MAGA Republicans are not popular among their cowardly peers and their cowardly peers have bucked them before. If you ask me I don't think they can. The most dangerous things they can do involve federal agencies and state governments, but if they do those dangerous things it'll piss people off and we'll go right back to the original point that a pissed off population will be extra bad for Republicans due to the fact that institutionalist Dems are now completely out of favor.

Long worded way to say that you can be hopeful for the midterms. I know this country seems like a horrible place filled with horrible people, cause it is, but that doesn't mean horrible people out number people who care about trans people, queer people, women, POC, etc. The issue is getting those people to vote and not just sit on the couch and it also lies in actively talking the insane Republicans back into reality, a thing they desperately don't want to do thanks to Fox News and Republican media sources. I'm hopeful for 2026, I'm just extremely angry that very real, very innocent people who didn't have to die, who weren't going to die, will, because too many people would rather they die than a Black Asian woman be President. Like I can't even begin to state my disgust that we're back at 2016 again, but like with 2018, 2026 will not go well for Republicans who, even in this election were doing worse among the exact same demographics they had in 2016. A rural vote may be worth 100 votes where I live, but make no mistake that they can and will feel the squeeze that they brought upon themselves, and hopefully they'll learn this time. And if they don't, well, I hold the same common courtesy I do for Nazis; I won't even piss on them if they are fire, cause you can't keep hurting innocent people and expect infinite kindness in return.

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yaut-jaknowit · 23 hours ago

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How bout a human woman saves a yautja after he got hurt pretty bad or something. Over time they get to know one another…one thing leads to another and the bang. But the male leaves not long after to return home, unknowingly leaving a bun in the oven…only that out possibly years after…

-🥤

Left Behind

Character: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 8895

Summary: A night that changed your life forever. You had to fight for survival and live to tell the tale. Ahtaal is saved only because of you. That leaves him in your debt. He heals you from wounds that will leave lasting scars. But he too leaves something else behind.

Author Note: I love the fact you call it 'bun in the oven'! Imagine saving a Yautja and then get the biggest dick down ever. Wish come true~.

Masterlist

Ao3

Blood burned through the skin on your arm. The pain a distant thought as you shoved the long spear into the chest of sickly, black monster. Black tendrils poured from its head. Four weirdly shaped mandibles. A long rigidly tail with a sharpened end made for stabbing. One that looked like it had crawled out of the depths of hell to come after anyone vulnerable. A demon in the flesh.

It almost looked like the beast you had protected a deadly blow from. But this thing… it was ten times worse.

The pain nearly grew to a point you couldn’t hold onto the spear for much longer. It slipped from your blood drenched hands. But, the point was still lodged deep into the chest of the screeching beast. You panted and backed away until the back of your foot met resistance. The creature you had just saved still lay on the ground, hopefully not dead. Or all of this would’ve been for naught.

Your arms stung with each passing moment, the pain mounting higher and higher. The adrenaline that once filled your system began to slowly deflate. You swallowed back the thick saliva in the back of your throat. Yet, not once did your eyes leave the beast as it backed away and clawed at the spear. Thankfully, it was barbed and refused to move from deep within it.

As if the life that once filled its body vanished in a second, it crumpled to the ground in a pile. A few twitches was all it gave before finally coming to still. Dead.

Everything hurt. Your chest heaved for air. Your mind tried to reel in every thought you had. Your heart thundered loud and clear in its bony cage. It took everything you had not to let your knees collapsed under your own weight. You slowly glanced at the down creature at your feet. His shoulder slowly rose and fell with each breath. A deep sigh of relief sounded from you.

Now, came a new problem. To move him. This place wasn’t safe. Other people would soon come. The government would easily snatch the two of you up in a heartbeat. One to silence you. He would become an experiment for whatever they wanted. You couldn’t have that. Not when he looks so sad in the state that he was in. You turned around and squatted at his side. A poke to his uninjured gave no results. Not even the next five. He was out cold.

This was unfortunately circumstances. He was at least seven feet tall and three times your weight easily. Deadweight was harder to move than someone giving some assistance.

With might and will, you used a tarp you had randomly found to hook under his arms. It was just strong enough to help you pull him through the foliage of the forest. After a hundred yards, you could no longer move. The exhaustion in your muscles, in your soul was far too deep. This all started this morning and it was deep into the night. The full moon shing ominously above the land. You collapsed harshly onto bruised knees and cut up palms. There was nothing more you could give to save him or yourself. You did what you could before the darkness consumed your vision and took away your conscious.

The gentle sway is the first thing you awoke to with a groggy groan. The crust in your eyes made it uncomfortable to open them. You rubbed it away with a shaky, weak arm before opening them.

Bright light blinded you from the first thing you saw. A groan tumbling out of your throat. Pain met you that same moment, racing up from your forearms. The rest of you throbbed with an ache that would take ten hot baths to finally chip away at it. You squinted through the sunlight and noticed a familiar red. Your hand reached up timidly and touched at the thick scales you could feel under your fingertips.

Big Red. The creature you had saved. You tilted your head back. He was facing forward, eyes hidden by the mandibles that covered half of his face. But the missing one was a familiar sight.

“Y-you’re al-ive,” you croaked out, voice harsh to even your own foggy ears. Your hand dropped down to your stomach, unable to hold up its own weight anymore. The grunt he made you felt it rather than heard it from his own mouth.

Your face cracked with a tiny grin. At least you hadn’t failed on that front while fighting something you didn’t know existed. A demon in the flesh. Your wrecked body trembled. A sight you hoped to never be face to face with again.

Through your blurry vision, he was marching quickly through the forest despite a noticeable limp to his gait. A table had been thrown at him, striking him direction on his shin when he jumped to block it. There wasn’t a loud crack of bone but it was possible it had only been fractured. You hummed and lazily drew patterns on his midriff, mind still foggy.

A rumbled vibrated through his chest and drew your attention to stop. That’s when the lightbulb above your head finally sprouted to life. Your lips pressed together while you looked away from him, eyes nearly bulging out. Heat flashed to life upon your cheeks.

Big Red moved across the forest, rarely taking breaks during the whole day. Only to stop at a creek and scoop water into his strangely constructed mouth. He would set you down and let you finally move around. It was hard at first, trying to get the blood flowing back in your limbs. Nor did your muscles want to listen. But, you did what you could and drank from the fresh creek. Anything to quench the dryness in your throat.

It was back to him carrying you in the bridle position and marching away. At points, you would take naps, needing the extra energy to recuperate from the days events.

At dusk, Big Red stopped and set you down. There was no creek or source of water. You had to lean heavily against the base of a tree with a shoulder. Your forearms were covered with scorch marks from the acidic blood that had landed on them. The pain from them was the only thing that kept you on your feet, giving you enough adrenaline to stay alert.

He limped away from you, leaving you behind. Fear gripped your heart that had taken you further into the forest only to abandoned you. After all you had- he stopped and pressed a button on the metal band that covered half of his forearm. You heard a hiss echo through the air and furrowed your brows.

Like a in a sci-fi movie, a large object revealed itself to your very eyes. Your jaw dropped when it came to mind it was a spacecraft. From Star Wars!

The creature came back over to you and easily scooped your weakened form up. Big Red carried you over where a ramp had come down. White steam came from the hydraulics in a dramatic manner. You tried to take everything. The information overload caused the pressure in your skull to tenfold. You groaned and curled up against his chest as if he’ll protect you from inward pain.

With your eyes closed, you missed all the important, interesting details no one has probably seen before. You whined and scrunched up your face as if that’ll push the pain away.

Warmth touched at your rear and brought you back to the present. You squinted and find yourself in a different room you couldn’t find a name for. Big Red had set you down on a table with many tools already on it. To which he was pushing off of the side to give you more room. He reached to the side and grabbed hold a box and set it down next to you. You watched as the box was open to reveal different items. None of them you could really figure out were for.

A moment of trust. It wasn’t like you could fight him in your circumstances. He could easily overpower you and subject you to whatever he wanted.

Instead, he grabbed some sort of gun with a need. You gulped at the size of the needle and strange blue liquid that filled the containment hanging off of the back. Either he didn’t notice or just ignored the fear gripping your heart. Big Red plunged the needle without hesitation into your shoulder. You grimaced at the slight pinched but otherwise, stayed still.

The needle was pulled free from your muscles and set off to the side. Next, he grabbed a white jar and untwisted the top. A sulfuric smell poured out of the jar. You gagged and used your shirt to cover your nose. “Oh my god, what is-is that?” you croaked out with disgust written all over your face.

Red stopped and tilted his head up. The golden mask on his features prevented you from seeing his true feelings.

“It is hurt,” he grumbled out, shocking you from hearing his voice for the first time. It wasn’t as deep as you thought but enough to send a tremble up the length of your spine. Your thoughts got you caught up in the moment before you shook them free. You cocked your head to the side. Hurt? Of course your arms hurt. They’ve been burned with acid.

White paste coated his fingertips before he slathered the burns in it.

The scream that curdled from your throat shocked him too. You jerked away and nearly slid off of the table before he caught you. Big Red forced you back onto the table and held you down. “Ooman! Calm! Calm. At ease,” his voice cut through the pain that burned through your veins. It was just enough to get you to finally focus on him again.

“I say it hurt,” he muttered then slowly let go of you when your muscles relaxed. Your body didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. Not even enough adrenaline could keep you going.

A fiery glare was set ablaze on the big, dark red alien. “I thought you were saying if I was hurting!” you yelled at him, arms drawn up to your chest. In case he may go for a second round without asking first.

A huff came from underneath the metal mask. “Paste heals but… hurts.” The words didn’t come naturally to him. He struggled to find them but you understood what he was getting to.

“Well, do you have something that doesn’t hurt like a bitch?” you snarked at him, in hopes to find a nice soothing paste. Not the one that made you feel like you were stepping on hot coals.

“No. Just this.” Ah, he didn’t get the sarcasm that was thick in your voice. You sighed, face scrunched up again from the pain this caused you. “Let me?” Big Red held out a waiting hand, letting you have the choice to either get an infection or deal with more pain. A groan sounded from your tired form before you roughly set one forearm in his palm.

“Better warning next time,” you mumbled and tensed up. An agony you didn’t want to experience but it meant for your life to survive. Then, so be it.

It was a pain you’ve never felt before.

The healing process took half as long as you thought. A couple of months turned into only a month until Dai’stbaen, the big, red alien, deemed you healed enough. Even letting you stay longer just to make sure you had no lasting injuries.

Today would be your last night with him. Dai’stbaen said he would fly you back to your home before setting off home bound. The last time you would see the towering beast in all of his glory. And you felt heartbroken to see him leave. You wish for him to take you but couldn’t go through with the idea of leaving everything behind. Not your friends or family who had to be worried sick about you at this point.

Countless times, he had made you promise and even created a mark on your skin to ensure you wouldn’t tell his secret. To let the whole world know that aliens, the Yautjas, exist. Dai told you it was against his code to let you live but you had saved him. That was a higher offense to kill someone who had saved his life. So, he had to slip out of your bed that night and back into his ship. Where he flew off into the stars, to never be seen again.

The ache he left you made it difficult to walk the next few days. All the marks he left on you a remind of what he could make you feel. A distance feeling after the days go by without him there with you.

After the first week back home, you had lost your job, finally calmed down your family and friends, and was barely able to skim on past in your lonely apartment. It felt better when Dai’stbaen was there with you, even if it was just for that night.

Things for first month was difficult, even after you were able to pick up a job that was remote work. It paid well enough to keep a roof over your head and food in your stomach.

Well until you missed your period. That’s when your heart dropped down into the apartment below you.

You raced to the nearest Walgreens and picked up a test. The cashier gave you a certain expression at the distant look in your eyes. All of your thoughts were running rampant through your mind. It had to be impossible. Truly, it really had to be. He wasn’t human!

The first place you went to back home was in your bathroom, tearing open the package. Then, you stopped just shy of sitting down on the toilet. Your eyes looked at yourself in the mirror. The distraught in your features from the horror of the situation. It had to be from the stressfulness of the situation you had just survived from. That what it had to be. But… even while in his care on his spacecraft, you had been hit by your period. God, that freaked him out when he smelt the fresh blood. Which… in turn freaked you out learning he could smell it. Like a dog.

Your hands lowered the unopened test to the counter. No. You shook your head. No, this wasn’t real. This was happening because of stress. It finally caught up to you. Your head nodded. Yeah, that’s what it had to be. You placed the unopened pregnancy test back into the box and shoved it into a random drawer. That would be needed at a different time. Not now. Because it was impossible.

Until you missed a second period. Even then, you tried to push off that feeling that there was something wrong with you. It was from stress. New job, new duties, new scars, new life. Everything to create a hell storm to recuperate from. Of course your uterus wouldn’t want to put you through anymore stress than needed.

At the same time of the next month, going into the wintery months, not a drop of blood.

That night, after work, you stood in the bathroom, hands holding the unopened test again. Your hands shook while looking down at the package. Every part of your mind tried to reason with all the other excuses you’ve given before. Stress. Job. Nearly being killed. Scars. Each one circling through the turn style until they fell away.

Just get it over with.

In front of the mirror, you turned to the side and lifted up the front of shirt. Your brows furrowed. There was a little weight loss when you first returned, eating practically just meat and little greens. Now… was that a slight bulge in your stomach? You could feel yourself on the verge of crying.

A child. There couldn’t be a chance you were pregnant with the alien you had a one-night stand with. He wasn’t coming back. You would be left alone to take care of the child. Then, there’s the fact it would half alien! How would they look? More like you or Dai’stbaen. There would be no way for them to live a normal life of going to school or having friends. And yourself. A child who could never step out into the light.

For the first time in the last three months, you plopped down on the toilet and took the test.

Each passing second, each passing heartbeat worsened everything feeling swirling inside of you. Every thought ran wild.

There were two sides to the coin. The more logical side. A hybrid alien baby couldn’t be possible. Let alone on the only time you were with him. It didn’t matter the three or four times he knotted you. That was a surprise. Very pleasant. Yet, there was also the fact you weren’t having your period the last three months. Surely, your body should’ve figured itself out at this point.

As the test did its process, you paced through the tiny bathroom squeezed into your one bedroom apartment. One of your hands ran through your locks, messing up the strands. It was all you could do to stop looking at the test every two seconds.

Two minutes passed until you took another glance and stopped in your tracks. Plus. A plus sign. You covered your mouth and backed into the nearest wall. Tears welled in your eyes.

Fear gripped your heartstrings. This was to be your life now. A mother with a hybrid child who couldn’t be normal. God, why did he have to leave!? Why did you have to fall for the alien?!

That night, you cried hard, curled up into a ball on the bathroom floor.

One good thing in your life was the fact your job just required you to sit in a chair and play customer service. There was no going out of your house and being heavily pregnant. To people wanting to know every single detail about the pregnancy and the child.

After the sixth month, you truly picked yourself up by your big pants and made a plan. It had to a home birth. No one could know. Not unless they take your child away. Over your dead body.

Supplies had been purchased, for the most part. Only a couple of onesies, a crib, some toys, and lots and lots diapers. You weren’t sure what to expect besides the normal stuff you researched for a human child. This would be a new experience for you and the whole world. A world that will never know what you possess deep within your belly.

This was all new territory to you. Of course it was. Who else has had an alien baby before?! Shit, calm down. You gripped the desk’s edge breathed through the unease in your stomach. From there, you were able to slow your pounding heart once more. Everything will turn out okay. It had to be.

By the beginning of the ninth month, you couldn’t go out. None of your family was allowed to see you, but that stemmed from the end of the seventh month. Where your bump was pronounced at that point. The questions and integration you would go through all for them to find out there’s no father in the picture. You could see the color drain from your parents face if you had to tell them.

The new job went well so far. An up in your unsteady life. You have yet to tell them about an unplanned trip that was coming up soon. Whenever your child decided to pop out. You didn’t even know if that was going to happen on time. Who knows if the alien genes have altered the time frame of the pregnancy. God, you didn’t know how any of this worked.

So far, the idea was when your water broke, you would use your vacation and sick leave to give a home birth. Hopefully from there, you can figure out a way to take care of the child while at home. All you prayed for was the delivery went smooth.

Two weeks later, while working away, a rush of water soaked the apex of your thighs. You were in the middle of call, pausing mid sentence at the feeling. A hand slapped over your mouth to stop any noises from escaping. There wasn’t any pain, just a feeling you had just wetted your pants. The person on the other end asked for you to repeat what you said. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and continued onward, barely paying attention.

It was about to happen.

When the work day ended, you threw down your headset and rushed to the bathroom. Supplies had been laid out in preparation for when the time came.

A blow up pool to lay in your living room was pulled out. A hose that could attach to the bathtub’s facet was connected then dragged out to the pool. An air mattress blowup machine was set down next to the deflated pool. The small hose was connect to the necessary hole before you turned it on.

The noise it created was uncomfortable to listen to. A headache began to form. Pressure created inside your skull and pressed against your eyes. You wanted to take some pain killers but was afraid on if that was the right thing to do. People get medicine at the hospitals but how much was too much. Would anything you’ve taken affect the baby? Oh god, you hadn’t thought about that! You wanted to smack yourself silly for not thinking about such a thing. Had you put the child in danger now?!

When the machine changed its tone, you looked down to see the blow up pool had been finished. It only took a single disconnected hose to seal it off. Instead of putting it away, you decided to keep the device nearby just in case. You wanted it be prepared at all costs since you’ll be doing this alone. Without anyone. No one to hold your hand. No one to make sure you’re okay.

Tears welled up in my eyes at those thoughts. All alone to give birth an alien baby. A mistake you had partially regretted. The night of throes was one you could never forget about. Your hand subconsciously rubbed against the lingering scar on your neck. A mark that he left in reminder of himself. Not the only thing he had left behind in his wake.

After all the supplies had been dragged out, you texted your boss you had an emergency and couldn’t be there for work. You were using the next three days to recoup from this. You wished for more but didn’t want to anger your new boss about the sudden leave. All you had to do was fake it until you make it. Pretend you knew everything about giving birth. It’s natural. Your body should know what to do and how to do it.

For the rest of the day, you simply walked around your small apartment. A sharp pain began over time to throb in your nether regions. It only eased up when you continued to walk around. Thankfully, it was manageable for the most part. No drugs. Just walking your way through it.

The night came. Your ankles were swollen beyond belief. The lower portion of your back ached. The throbbing never went away completely. It receded to the back of your mind then waned back into existence. You constantly gnawed on your bottom lip and tried to put on the T.V on something random to distract you. It helped little to draw your mind away from the different pains you were experiencing.

One look at the clock had you groaning. It was two in the morning. The contractions you were having only grew worse and closer together. That left you with no time to get any shut eye besides a five minute Power Nap every once in a while. You could only endure the aches as you rested in bed.

Night progressed onward until the rosy fingers of morning cascaded across the lightening sky. Any other day, you may have taken a picture at a sight so pretty. Instead, you scoffed at it and rolled out of bed.

Not once did you get more than five minutes of a nap.

The contractions had grown to a point where it made it hard to stand. Yet, you bear your weight against a chair in the small dining room. Standing it meant to help. Let gravity do its thing. Yet, with the lack of sleep made it hard to use what energy you did have to stay standing.

Then, the need to push hit you like a semi truck. You had to rush to fill up the pool with hot water. It was all you had left to do before everything would be ready.

All of your clothing had been strewn across the living room. All the towels you owned were set around in arms length near you. You sunk into the steaming water and groaned at the relaxing prosperities it offered.

It was time to push.

A day you knew you would never forget despite what you’ve read. The hormones in the brain could cause you to forget that any of it happen. The pain. The agony. Nearly shitting yourself. All variables to when your bundle of joy was freed from your body. Just a little thing that didn’t… look to weird.

He was so ugly he was cute in a way that only a mother would understand. He had the features of his father. Yet with a humanness to him you could see. Yet, your son could never step out into the world like you are able to. Unless he will be ripped away from you as you are dragged deep underground. Never to see or hear from your family again.

His face had only two mandibles. Bottom ones that were only nubs at this point with no sharp, deadly fang to taint the tip. He had no hair. That left you to wonder if he who’s hair he may take after. You hoped not the alien’s. Who knows if they have a routine. Not like you could have the supplies or knowledge to take care of such thing.

Thankfully, his skin mostly matched your own. There were hints of that dark red of scales that pebbled the tops of his forearms. You flinched at the sight and picked at the scales. But they didn’t come off. Your brows pushed up together as you worried the scales wouldn’t come off. They had to.

His first cry snapped you out of your stupor.

Since that day, living with a child you didn’t know how to take care of was beyond exhausting and nerve wracking. There was no time to yourself. Let alone, going out to see friends and family. You just used the excuse of work. It was always about work.

Your son, Austin, was different then research told you. From his ability to sit up only weeks after birth. He was able to speak at six months; crawl at eight before standing at eleven months. He pushed past each milestone with ease. You were proud of him, astonished he could perform each feat.

Days turned into months. Those milestone months turned into years. Before you knew it, your little Austin had turned five. A year he would have been starting kindergarten if he was normal.

One thing that changed about him was his hair. It easily came to you his hair was thin but like the rubbery dreads of Dai’stbaen. His scales multiplied across the tops of his forearms, growing up to his shoulders. Some peeked out on his chest and down his belly. The red was stark across otherwise smooth skin. He looked… not human. Only a mother could love. As harsh as that sounded, it was the truth. But, if anyone took him away from you, they would meet a mother’s fury.

During the night, you were curled around Austin. A protective shield to hide him away from the dangers of the real world outside the safety of your apartment. That was his one rule. All windows must stay shuttered and sealed off. No one could see in. No one could know he existed.

The time dragged on. Every second feeling like going over a pile of sharp rocks on the bottom of your feet. Nothing quelled the unease that sat in the pit of your stomach. The years may have passed well but you weren’t sure you were doing this right. This is a hybrid baby where the father isn’t in the picture. You didn’t even know if Dai’stbaen was still alive. All the dangerous things he lives to hunt for a passion, for a living. You shuttered at the reminder of all the skulls he possesses. Dangerous and lethal.

When sleep finally decided to drag you into its depths, you jerked up. Something in the back of your mind screaming to get up. Austin whined when you slid off the bed and rushed towards the bat you had close to the bed.

By the time your fingers curled around the bat, your bedroom door creaked open. Fear pulsed through your body like a powerful drug. Your hands trembled while holding onto the weapon. The darkness made it next impossible to see the figure standing in your doorway. That didn’t stop you from rushing forward and bringing the metal bat down with all of your strength.

Only for the bat to be caught mid swing.

It was tugged out of your grip and tossed behind the figure. The lights were flickered on, blinding you. You squinted through the pain the best you could only to see a darkly dressed figure there. More piled in. You stumbled backwards until your back hit the wall.

Harsh hands snatched at your wrists and smashed you nearly face first into the ground. Both of your arms are wrenched behind your back and locked into place with handcuffs.

Finally, at this point, your brain has finally caught up. But, it was too late to struggle. One person held down your legs. Other held various points of your body so it was impossible to move more than an inch.

The shrill scream of Austin had the fight in you restored to full power. A war cry thundered into the room, causing the people on you to tense. Your arms were already restrained with metal cuffs. Yet, your legs struck out and hit something soft underneath your foot. The tall tale sound of pain cut through the tense air. Someone fell down with a thud. You didn’t stop. Your legs continued to thrash until both of your wrists were being bent in a way that felt like they had snapped.

A scream of pain rang throughout the small bedroom before someone used some sort of cloth to tie around your mouth. It effectively quieted all of your screams. You looked up the best you could towards a masked face and swore you were going to hurt them all for hurting your son.

Austin had been pulled out first before they had painfully dragged you out of your own apartment. The entire time, you fought them. Each time, they either kneed at your ribs and tugged harder on your shoulders.

Then, you received a knee to the head.

Word spreads like wildfire. Nothing like this is common. The council is immediately called upon to set forth who shall proceed with the task at hand. But, when it comes down the finer details, Dai’stbaen is the one traveling through time and space. Back to a planet he has not seen in years. Where he wished to return for his own pleasure and time. To a ooman that… captured his attention.

This return trip wasn’t meant for time away from the hunt. A job had been handed to him. A very important job that needed to be completed before Cetanu could be released.

A hybrid had been spoken about on the rail. A ooman/Yautja hybrid. Dangerous beyond belief to let such a thing be in the hands of the oomans. Some call for it to killed. An abomination in many minds. It all came down to Dai’stbaen in the end. If he deems it mercy or an act upon the code, it shall be killed.

The ship softly shuttered when it came to rest on earth’s ground. All the engines slowly whirled down, powering off with a couple switches. Dai’stbaen unbuckled from the seat and stood up. His weapons soon adorned his frame before he headed out the hatch.

Pine and morning dew filtered into his mask. He took in the lungful, shoulders rising and falling. Then, he was off. Only a flash of dark red in the sea of green and brown.

Before arriving here, the Yautja had done his fair share of research. Many known places for ooman government settlements are pinpointed on a map. A map that Dai’stbaen currently was using to show him the right direction. Yautjas have been here for a long, long time.

His silent feet led him straight to building that wasn’t well hidden just deep in the forest. A helipad was the only way in and out of here. Whoever was here was all there could be. Backup, if he had been spotted, would take too much time to capture him.

A cloak covered him from sight. Dai’stbaen took roost up in a tree, eyes scanning over the decently sized building. Just enough to hold a small team. For whatever they were doing to the hybrid. The Yautja scowled at the thought of the nasty oomans. He only knew of one that was worth a blooding mark. One well deserved after saving his life. Death almost came to the ooman as well after the fight had finished. Wounds that one should’ve never survived from. Without him, the ooman would’ve passed. A strong, mighty soul lost to Cetanu. Dai will not allow for that to happen.

Weak entry points were easy to locate and mark mentally in his mind. No patrols wondered the outside perimeter. Oomans and their cockiness. No wonder they die so easily to his own kind.

With the other modes on his bio mask, he determined the easiest way to get into the complex. His feet were silent as he dropped back down to the forest floor and moved inward.

Despite the place being lack with its security, Dai’stbaen never once let his guard fall. Not all shall seem to meet the eye. Plenty of life experiences and past hunts have told him otherwise. The hunt may seem easy but may turn for the worse at a moments notice. Dai rather not be caught in trap so avoidable. Not like some past Yautjas have. A shame and board line dishonor.

To get inside the complex took little pressure. A certain wire cut had the door failing. It opened up and revealed an empty hallway. The cloak was still activated as he moved forward. He used his mask to look at patches possibly taken. Yet, the signs helped him the most.

Dai’stbaen stood in front of a door strong enough to hold back a Yautja at full strength. A grumble fell from his throat as he looked over the exterior. This wasn’t something he could strong arm the rest of the way. He was forced to look over the outside well, finding any weakness. Yet, it had been designed specifically to hold a Yautja.

Noise to his right had been side stepping the door and looking down the hall. A trip of oomans rounded a corner, deep in talk. White lab coats hung off of one of them. Others were dressed in pastel color of clothing. A brow arched from underneath his mask as he watched the three of them walk towards him. But, he wasn’t alert to them finding him.

All of them stopped at the door he once stood at.

“We’ve only been able to recently touch him with the mother nearby. Or else he’ll claw and bite everyone,” one said and rubbed a wrapped up portion of his arm. “I don’t know about either of you, but I’d rather not take another swing from the little twit.”

Mother? Was the hybrid young? And these oomans had taken a child and its mother.

Fire raced through his veins. A growl threatening to alert the oomans right in front of him.

One of them raised a plastic card up to the key pad. It beeped at the touch before the door opened up. The angle didn’t allow him to see inside the room.

But the smell. A smell he’d thought to never scent again hit him hard. Idiotic of him, he froze up long enough for the door to shut after the oomans entered. He had to close off his throat to stop a deep growl from erupting. It was his duty to get into that room.

It felt like he was a unblooded all over again, patient worn out long ago. The muscle of his jaw so tight it felt like it was cramping. His eyes never left the doorway, ears trying to listen in but found the walls too thick for him to hear through. Everything in him wanted to bust down the door to get inside. Who knows what those scum of oomans were doing.

The tension in his muscles turned complete rigid when the door slid back open. His body acted before his mind could complete a thought. Dai rushed forward and snatched the lab coat ooman up by the neck. She tried to scream for her life but he pinched off any access to air. Her face already turning to a shade of red he loved oomans to wear.

He entered the space still holding onto the soft meat. She squirmed and kicked at him, anything to get free from his grasp. The door shut behind him and locked him into the room that was filled with the scent of terror.

And yours.

A mixture that reeked. The Yautja growled lowly in his chest before plucking the ID card off of her. She could barely make a noise, face beet red. Dai’stbaen dropped the defenseless ooman back down onto the ground. She crumbled to the floor and choked and gasped for air. He barely gave her a glance and strode over to your trembling, slacken jaw form.

You never once thought to see this beautiful creature again. Not a single moment in your life. But, here stands Dai’stbaen in all of his glory. Biomask covering his features but you could feel the heat of his eyes on you. He marched over to you and ate up the space between the two of you. He fell to a knee and reached out to your chained form.

Metal wrapped painfully around your throat and hands. They attached to a bolt in the concrete wall. No ooman could break out of something with pure strength alone. Dai’stbaen lifted up the chain and felt its weight. Nothing to him but to you, red marks had been rubbed raw into your soft skin. A scowl hidden by his mask.

As if you saw a god, you reached up and brushed your fingers against the coolness of the metal of his face covering. A face you desperately wanted to see.

“Dai?” you croaked out in voice devoid of water for so long. You looked so lost, long without hope to fill your fierce eyes. The male himself was speechless. Why in the stars were you here? In a facility he was looking for a hybrid. He cupped your jaw in a massive hand, fingers curling around the back of your head. His thumb graced over your pronounced cheek bone. Your eyes had sunken in. The skin dark and lifeless underneath him.

This wasn’t the vision of how he left you. You had been curled up against him, soft, gentle features at peace. The marks that marred your skin. His eyes darted down to the bite mark he left in the heat of the moment. Had these scums taken you all because of a bite? Surely, they wouldn’t notice anything off with such a bite?

Clattering of metal skirting across the concrete floor snapped him back into his hunter mode. His head whipped around. One of the other oomans had discovered him, coming around a partition. Before the man had time to react, Dai was a red blur across the room. His hand curled around his throat and brought the person to him. You watched as Dai choked the unsuspecting man out until he no longer moved. He was released and flopped down onto the ground. His chest slowly rose and fall.

The person in the lab coat was able to regain her composer, head tilted up. Her dark eyes were trained on Dai. An accusing finger pointed at him. “You-“ she coughed “-can’t hurt me. Can’t hurt any of us,” she bit out in a nasty tone that twisted your gut. There was nothing you could do, still chained up to the wall. Your face morphed with anger. You pulled on the chain but it only rattled at the move.

Dai’stbaen didn’t stop marching towards her on the ground. She scrambled backwards and even kicked his shin. Yet, he didn’t even flinch at the strike. He bent at the waist and picked up the struggling woman with a single arm. Your jaw slackened again at the remind of how strong he is. The memories of the last night with him resurfacing at the wrong moment.

Not a word or sound utters from his vocal cords. One arm wraps around her neck and hold strong. Blood and air is restricted to her brain. It doesn’t take long for her to drop to the ground, chest slowly rising and falling.

Once the issue is solved, he strides across the limited space again. They weren’t dead. You were thankful he hadn’t killed them in front of you, knowing he could pull such a thing. Dai’stbaen returns to his position in front of you. A claw hooks into the unforgiving chain wrapped around your wrists. For a government facility, they didn’t have good restraints. Maybe… they weren’t thinking about capturing prisoners.

Not like yourself, at least.

His mask stares at the chains for a moment. Then, with both of his hands, he grips it at two different sections and pulls. The metal groans under his pure strength before easily giving way with a snap. The end hangs from your neck and pulled on the tender areas. Next, Dai’stbaen worked on your wrists in the same manner. He had left a tail end, unable to get so close to you.

Your legs strained to lift yourself off of the unforgiving, dull grey floors. The muscles have gone weak after the lack of use and proper food.

Before you could make it, Dai’stbaen easily scooped you up into his arms. His warmth easily washed over your numb frame. The air in the room was cool. It kept you shaking nearly all the time. They never offered a blanket or something.

He was able to transfer you to one arm holding you to him. His free hand grabbed the ID card he had snatched earlier. The male walked over to the closed door.

“Wa-it!” you hissed when he attempted to leave. Your body squirmed in his hold. Dai’stbaen grunted and pinned you to his warm body. “We can’t le-ave!” Austin. Tears were brought to your eyes at the thought of your son. You used a hand to pull on one of Dai’s tresses and directed him over to the partition.

Dai could smell another ooman and something else.

Your feet touched the cool concrete again. The strength in your legs was long gone and forced you to sit down. His gaze was set on what he could see around the partition’s edge. He stalked over then froze for a moment. In another flash, he lunged forward. You decided to stay where you were when you heard a thud smack. Another person choked out. Alive.

Soft, nearly silent footsteps alerted to Dai coming back. When he appeared around the corner, you scrambled to get to your weak legs.

In his arms was the limp body of Austin. “No!” you cried but unable to find the strength. After so long of fighting, you had lost the will. Even at the sight of your son limp in front of you. Tears brimmed the edges of your eyes as you clawed at Dai’stbaen. As if you could climb him to get to Austin. “Please, no.” Your whimper cracked at his own heart.

What had they done to him?

It was your reaction that had the dots clicking inside of his head. You… Oh, by Paya’s will! His eyes widened underneath the mask, muscles turning taunt. The hybrid… it was his. The red scales, mandibles, the tresses. Dai’stbaen could’ve smacked himself for how stupid he had been. How could’ve he not even thought of the possibility?! But… the idea was next to impossible.

Here it was though. In his arms. Softly breathing. The mother clawing at him, eyes balling with tears. Dai’stbaen knelt down in front of the ooman he’s come to know. You instantly tried to tug him out of his arms but it was nothing compared to his strength.

“Austin, honey. Oh god, no. Anything but him!” you sobbed and rushed your hands all over him. He was still warm. The first thing you notice; slightly taking you out of your panic. Then, your finger pads found a gentle pulse. Your saneness slowly coming back as you realized Austin was alive. You gave another sob. This time of relief. Your arms wrapped around him the best you could then slowly looked up at the Yautja.

The mask may hide all of his features… but you felt the heat of his stare. You pulled away and straightened your back, eyes casting downward. Not once did one of your hands leave Austin.

“Yeah,” you choked out and buried yourself into your shoulders. You didn’t know how he was going to react to all of this. Even yourself didn’t want to believe the pregnancy for the first six months.

His arm underneath Austin’s knees snatched the forearm closest to him. Dai leaned in close to you that your foreheads nearly touched. Your heart began to thunder loudly.

“Child? We have… child?” Words so unsure of the reality of everything. A feeling you felt so long ago in the beginning of all of this. You had been alone, terrified. To this day, you still are. Even before they had found out about Austin and yourself.

More tears stained your cheeks. “Yeah,” you sniffled with a nod. His hand twitched for a moment before letting you go. Instead, you carded your fingers through his, nails biting the back of his hand. “We do. I-I didn’t k-now how to-to tell you. You were… gone.” Words so important to you unaffected him. For the most part.

A huff left the alien. His head turned towards the door. The weight of the situation slammed down on you once again. Escape. This was your chance for escape. You couldn’t walk though. The battle had long left you after a lesson well learned. His hands were full with Austin.

You let go of his hand pushed at him. If one must be saved, it had to be Austin. Your son over yourself. “Go! Bef-ore they find out. T-take him to-to safety, please,” you pleaded with the male, face wet and sticky from the constant tears.

Dai snorted and scooted Austin more onto one shoulder. With his other arm, he wrapped it around your torso. One show of strength had you tossed over onto the other shoulder. A pained grunt surge past your lips when you landed harshly on your stomach. The birth had always left you scarred permanently. Then, the Yautja was on his feet and quickly stalking towards the door.

The stolen keycard was used to open the door and revealed an empty hallway. He peered out to look both ways before stepping out. Years of training aided him. His feet light despite the added weight of two people on him. Yet, he had noticed how much lighter you were compared to when he last held you up. Something twisted in the pit of his stomach. A need to end the lives for those caused harm to you.

There were more important things to worry about for now. Safety for one.

Like a skilled hunter, Dai’stbaen was able to slip out of the complex with little difficulty. The cloak had been rendered useless. He was forced to rely on strict listening and awareness of his surroundings.

Fresh air on your skin was heaven sent. You lifted yourself up with just enough strength to prop yourself up on his shoulder. The outside world was something you hadn’t seen in a long time. You could cry at the sight. For so long.

The Yautja carried you a long way. Not once did he stop for a break or rest. Like a freight train, he continued to move. The sway of his gait nearly had you passing out, ready to succumb to a sleep you weren’t petrified to never wake up again.

A familiar sight peered through the trees. The ship. Oh god, you were really free. Dai’stbaen had come for you to save the two of you.

How did he know? Words you wanted to ask him but your energy was dwindling faster than you could stop it. The realization of safety had you finally drifting in and out of light sleep.

The feeling of scales against your belly had your eyes flickering open. You groaned and found yourself on your back, looking up at the familiar face of Dai’stbaen. His biomask long gone at this point. The only upper mandible twitched when his bright yellow eyes found yours. A hand cupped at your cheek, thumb running over your pronounced cheek bone.

“Thank you,” you whispered in a hoarse voice. Water was instantly brought to your lips in the form of a waterskin. Every drop you took then licked at your cracked lips.

Something akin to anger swirled bright in his fierce eyes. His mandibles tightened over his mouth, nails creating divots in your skin. “You stay. With me,” he demanded.

Free from the mask, his voice was clear and crisp in the protection of his room. A space you had shared with him for that month.

Your brows jumped up towards the ceiling. How was that going to work? Humans… they don’t survive outside of earth’s atmosphere. And the creatures he hunts. They would think of you as a snack. Easy pickings. A full bottom shiver wrecked your poor frame.

“How’s… that going to work?” you asked, not opposed to leaving your life behind. All of your friends and family had been pushed away when Austin had been born. Your job must of fired you. Your apartment was probably been cleaned out. Everything you once knew was gone. All besides your child and his father.

His next words were thought over carefully. “You are ooman, weak and frail. Yes. But, I protect you. Like you protected me. We have child. He learn Yautja ways. Be hunter,” he explained to the best of his knowledge in English. Your eyes widened. He wants Austin to be like him.

Austin. Your head whipped about before Dai’stbaen caught it and directed your attention to your side. There laid your sleeping kid. He had curled up on his side, facing you. At peace.

You licked at your cracked lips and gaze back towards Dai’stbaen. “I named him Austin,” you said to him. Something flashed in his eyes, but he kept silent.

Everything he said though, you couldn’t completely disagree on. From the fact your life was ruined, to the fact Austin was different. It took so much to reel him in from going out the front door. Or, he loved to climb up on to of the cupboards. Even when he very young.

A hunter at his core.

“He’s got you heart.” You smiled at him, stars sparkling in your eyes. Then, you bowed your head and played with your hands on the blankets. “I… I agree with you. I can’t go back. And, I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel terrible that I’m probably not taking care of him right.” You peered at Dai from underneath your lashes. “I need your help.”

With his hands on your cheeks, he tugs you in a little closer. His forehead presses to yours in a soft gesture. “I help. We raise together.” Your eyes closed. You embraced the warmth blooming in your chest.

The tension in your chest loosen. You could finally breath normally again.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #yautja x human #predator x reader #predator x human #predator x you #x reader

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ruyakasunshine · 2 days ago

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My humble suggestions to make F1 more interesting

In the light of the recent rumors about the FIA trying to manipulate the races in order to get more ratings, here are my totally awesome suggestions to make the races more interesting for the viewers.

obligatory disclaimer : those are jokes.

1. Add the Mario Kart blue shell

With the blue shell, you wouldn't have to worry about a race being uninteresting because one of teams has built a rocketship! Now you might be wondering how that would be doable, because how do you get an actual blue shell to only hit one driver? To that I answer, "sweetheart, give me your hand, and let me enlighten you with this name : Kevin Magnussen". Our dear K-mag won't be on the grid next year, and since we'll all miss him dearly, I think we should give him a blue kart and tell him to take out the race leader. He would be released once during the race, in a very random moment (that would be decided through 'google, give me a random number between 1 and 67') and the moment he is out a loud radio voice should announce "WE HAVE UNLEASHED THE MAGNUSSEN" in order to stress everyone out.

2. Add Horns

I know I'm not the only who has thought of this, because the CarCar beef would have been so much funnier if Oscar was allowed to just hit the horn at Carlos. Or the other way around, considering Carlos is a Mediterranean.

I believe that the one who'd abuse this the most would be Fernando, who, if he were to be passed by another driver, would push the button hard enough to spook them and gain his position back. We'd get him to win a race again with this, think about it!

Also, as an exception, Yuki's horn should be customed so that when it is pushed, it doesn't make a "beep" but a loud "FUCK" sound. He should be the only one allowed to do this.

3. Let them hear each other

I think they should just be all allowed to communicate together during the race, the way they do it with their engineers.

Now do I think it's doable? Probably not. Do I think that would be productive? Absolutely not. Do I believe the FIA would decide to remove this option 3 laps into a race? Totally.

But the entertainment value would be so high, because I refuse to believe anyone who says they wouldn't want to hear the Checo-Liam beef in live. Also, I think Carlos should have heard Oscar say "typical Carlos" as he said it. Now that would be fun.

No more team orders, if a driver wants to swap position with his teammate, he has to convince him with everyone being able to hear them.

I also believe that Charles and Max should be given this option anyway, since Max has decided to talk to Charles alone in his own car.

4. Settle the penalties through fistfights

I've seen people talk about how it is problematic to have different stewards at every race, because it makes the decisions taken incoherent. George believes permanent stewards would solve the issue. I believe that when two drivers collide, they should be allowed to fistfight in front of the arena, and the loser gets the penalty. That would especially funny in Vegas, with Bruce Buffer as the commentator.

Also, an exception would be made for one specific situation: if Lewis and Fernando collide, they have to hug, and the first one to let go looses and gets the penalty.

5. The team who gets tenth position in the constructors should get sold to One Direction

I have no arguments other than the fact that the team could use the money anyway, since they won't get much from the constructors.

6. Make the read fanfics for each penalty point they get

Remember this post where I suggested that Haas should have made read K-mag self-insert fanfics for every point he gets on his licence? Well I've changed my mind, I think every driver should have the chance to do it, in public, if they want to get out of a penalty. The higher the penalty is, the cringier the fic gets.

7. Find a solution to the lestappen followgate

Everyone and their mothers has been asking for one thing and one thing only : a Lestappen title fight. I think Charles could use some motiviation, so here is my humble suggestion : tell him that if he wins, Max has to follow him on Instagram. If he loses, it's the other way around. Believe me, this diva couldn't take it and would tranform whatever atrocity-car Ferrari gives him into a rocket. He's done it before for the sake of winning, believe me he'll do it again to get Max to follow him.

Thank me later.

#formula 1 #charles leclerc #max verstappen #lestappen #oscar piastri #carlos sainz #fernando alonso #lewis hamilton #checo perez #liam lawson #lando norris #carcar #kevin magnussen #f1 meme #f1 grid #incorrect f1 #las vegas gp 2024

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angelwishess · 2 days ago

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𝜗𝜚 Floyra Intro Post !

❝Because theres no one on the land or in the sea more in sync than those two.❞

|| playlist. || moodboard. || pinterest quotes. || pinterest board. || (<- in the “Dynamic w Floyd” section!)

Floyra is the ship of my main oc, Kyra and Floyd! Kyra is my Yuusona twisted from the Disney Princess Stereotype.

This intro post is just to graph out the timeline and details of their relationship. Funfacts at the end :3 (Fair warning though, this ended up being SUPER long… So feel free just to skip to the funfacts if you want HAHAHA)

Please note I may or may not have changed some things in the canon storyline for my own amusement hehe. Nothing too major though.

Tropes :

Idiots to Lovers, Bestfriends to Lovers, Soulmates, literally the DENSEST people ever … Actually they’re more like cowards. Mutual pining, mutual SIMPING they ADORE eachother they are absolutely WHIPPED, chaotic lovey dovey couple, tooth-rotting fluff, no i mean seriously this is the fluffiest ship EVER, they make eachother both better and worse simultaniously. They share the same braincell. Basically already a couple before they even start dating but they dont realize it.

Kyra: “What?? Ofc we’re not dating lmao wdym we’re just friends!!” <- just held his face tenderly and looked into his eyes adoringly while calling him the prettiest boy in the world and kissing his face all over

Floyd: “yeah lol why would u think that” <- arm around her waist, basically always looking at her with a dopey grin and heart eyes

First Impressions

When Floyd heard that there was an unexpected appearance of a magicless student at the entrance ceremony that blazed in with a flaming fire tanuki and set fire to the mirror chamber, he was intrigued. When he learned that very same student was, quite literally, from an entirely different world, he was even more intrigued.

Not to mention the fact she lived in that rundown, deteriorating 'dorm' that was literally called Ramshackle, and she was almost expelled two other guppies on the very first day of school.

But, when he saw her for himself he was... Disappointed.

Often times she just stood by the sidelines, seemingly in her own world with a far-off look in her eyes and an empty smile that ticked him off for no apparent reason.

She never reacted to anything, letting people walk over her like some sort of welcome mat. Somehow, she didn't even feel alive.

To put it bluntly— Floyd thought she was boring.

Just a wimpy, puny little shrimp who didn't even have any magic. Who wouldn't even run away if her life was on the line, weak and defenseless. Naive. How boring, and here he thought he had another play thing... But wheres the fun if he doesn't get a reaction out of it? How lame.

Kyra and Floyd only officially met during book 2.

Kyra passed by Floyd a bunch of times before— but never actually ‘saw’ him. Floyd on the other hand, already had an opinion of Kyra.

Seeing her just simply standing by the sidelines again and saying nothing and just… Staring. He decided to finally approach her straight up.

Deciding to give her a squeeze for the fun of it— he didn’t expect at all for her to hug him back and basically turn the situation on him instead. It flustered him, and made him walk away from the whole scene out of confusion and embarrassment.

Despite everything, Kyra thought Floyd was amusing. and insanely pretty.

Building Interest …

As time passed they seemed to keep catching glimpses of eachother. And with each passing day, she seemed to get more and more... Interesting.

Facing overblots despite having no magic, causing trouble left and right and getting into such ridiculous situations it makes you wonder how she does everything she does without getting tired of how absurd it all is.

When his first impression of her was her being ‘boring', his second was her being naive. How else could you explain it? She had to be either ridiculously brave or incredibly stupid and naive to do the things that she does.

Kyra and Floyd don’t have any notable interactions until the main events of Book 3.

When Kyra decided to strike up a deal with Azul to free all of the students under a contract— Floyd thought she was stupid. Naive, and way too easy of a target. It was laughable. It basically confirmed everything he thought of her.

As Floyd and Jade were monitoring Kyra and Grim as they packed up their things, Kyra acted as if nothing major was happening. Talking to them and cracking jokes like they were old friends. It was then Floyd and Kyra found out they might be more similar than they thought, saying the same things at the same time and holding the same opinions.

When Kyra almost dropped a bag of her things, Floyd helped from impulse. He laughed it off, but Kyra decided to give him a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you’.

He froze in place. Not expecting that kind of reaction from her once again, and just kind of… Staring at her as she passed. Jade had another laugh at his brother.

When Kyra first saw Floyd in his merform, he took the chance to try and scare her a little. Just for fun. But just like before— it totally backfired, and Kyra just looked at her with the same wonder as she did the first time. She had the nerve to call him ‘Beautiful’ under her breath, too.

So, Floyd simply swam away after realizing she wasn’t going to give him the reaction he wanted, deciding to play with someone who will.

But when he tried to attack a nearby friend of hers— She punched him straight in the face! A fire burning in her eyes as she straight up threatened him.

Floyd was… Confused. Confused about Kyra, i mean. One moment she was staring at him like he was a of work of art, the next shes throwing hands at him with zero hesitation. He thought she was a pushover— but maybe he was wrong.

She had guts, though. Thats for sure. A magicless little thing like her deciding to put her hands up and fight, even threatening him? A 13ft long eelmer that could rip her apart without a sweat? Something about it.. Scared him a little. Ending up with a bloodied nose, staring down someone who didn’t show any fear or any regret.

Floyd always wanted a challenge. But did he expect that challenge to come in a 5’7 package, decorated with pretty pink bows? No, not at all.

But thats something. And boy, does Floyd love the thrill of the unexpected. After this interaction that past intrigue he had in her before came back 2 times stronger.

It only worsened when Kyra’s little plan to destroy Azul’s contracts actually worked… And Floyd got chills seeing the look on her face.

It was so unlike what he thought of her. A big, smug grin. The face of someone who knows they already won. It was almost malicious. And it was then he realized— she wasn’t as dumb or as naive as he thought she was, either.

But when they got back to the Lounge, it so happened that Leona seemed to have missed one, single contract. When they spotted it, Kyra was the first to react. Managing to grab it before Azul.

Azul wasn’t too happy about it, screeching and yelling for her to give it to him, grabbing her while doing so.

And in that moment of tension, of fear and action, she did something that shocked everyone. In the face of danger, she held the sole contract tightly in her hands and she—

…She ate the contract.

She shoved the glowing papering in her mouth, and swallowed the thing. And it worked. Honestly they didn’t know which was more ridiculous… Her decision, or the fact it was a success.

She grinned so widely, so proudly. She had the nerve to even laugh in Azul’s face. “Yeah, thats right! Screw you, octoboy!”

Floyd couldn’t surpress the laughter that bubbled up his throat watching it all go down. The sound of her laugh ringing in his ears. It was just so… Ridiculous. She was ridiculous.

She had just outsmarted Azul… And the best solution she could think of was to eat the contract? It was downright cartoonish!

But when Azul overblotted, Floyd got to see Kyra in action. He was surprised all over again. But he should be used to it by now, he should expect it. She just keeps surprising him.

She was no pushover— rising up to the challenge when needed. Even if she still acted unserious, even if she acted goofy and wild, she still got down to business and made it work nonetheless.

And he realized she wasn’t anything like what he thought of her before. She was… Nothing like what he thought. Always surpassing his expectations of her no matter how much they changed.

Everytime he thought he had her figured out, she goes and does something that makes him rethink it all over again…

She was very, very interesting. And now, shes got his full attention.

Strangers to Besties!

After the main events of Book 3, Floyd had started following around Kyra more often. Actually, scratch that. He started following her around constantly. She eventually apologized for punching him in the face, too. Surprisingly.

Realizing they were actually very similar, they began hanging out more and more, until they eventually became an inseperable duo that everyone knew about.

At first, most were surprised. Kyra had only just started coming out of her shell, so most were still under the impression she was a sweet, mild mannered young girl.

But after befriending Floyd— all of her self-control truly did go flying out of the window. If she was bad before, she was even worse now. Freely skipping classes more often without a care to go find Floyd, trying to juggle live fish in the courtyard, or jumping out of a window just to escape some of the staff. and the like.

Late night adventures, dancing in the rain, sneaking out of class, spontaneous hang outs and sleepovers, pulling pranks and causing trouble left and right… They were so in sync, its was scary. Kyra was almost like a second Floyd, and everyone knew that it was probably best to run in the other direction when you see them side by side.

No matter what the situation, they always had eachother’s back, too.

It was strange to think they were ever strangers. They felt like they’ve known eachother for years— thats how well they’ve grown to know eachother. They were as thick as thieves!

Hanging out everyday, whenever they could, they just had so much fun together all the time!

To everyone’s dismay, of course. They were far too in sync, if the chaos around one of them was bad it combined when they were together.

Floyd finally found someone who could keep up with him, and even better, keep him on his toes. Kyra surprised him everyday, and thats what he loved. He found someone who understood him, too.

Kyra on the otherhand, found someone who encouraged all of her once repressed desires. She found someone she could be herself with, with no fear of judgement.

Never one without the other, those two. Wherever Kyra was Floyd was surely close to follow, and wherever Floyd was Kyra was most definetly near. They followed eachother around, always stayed close to one another.

Slowly, they’ve grown to not only seek eachother out to go and have fun, but also for comfort.

Platonic ..?

What started as a simple friendship which focused on the high of ‘having fun’ and causing trouble, or just basically being partners in crime— slowly turned into something much more… Intimate.

When Floyd stormed all the way to Ramshackle after a bad day at Mostro Lounge, he didn’t really know what to expect, he just wanted to get away from everyone else and Ramshackle was the best place he could think of.

He didn’t expect Kyra to be so caring. Pulling him into her arms and running her fingers through his hair while encouraging him to rant.

Kyra had always been an affectionate person, he knew that. It started small— little kisses on the cheek and forehead from Kyra to him, hugs and the like. But this was different. It felt different, atleast.

The way she held him felt different, and the way her lips gently kissed his skin made all of the stress from before sizzle into nothing.

He couldn’t help but melt, and before they knew it this became a routine for them, too.

They grew to find themselves comfortable being vulnerable around eachother. Showing sides of themselves to eachother most wouldn’t see. And they knew eachother better than anyone else did.

Simple, friendly touches became something more. The playful wrap of Floyd’s arm around her waist became tighter, and Kyra’s touches on him lingered for longer. Suddenly the playful ‘I Love You’s didn’t seem platonic anymore— atleast not with the way they looked at eachother while they said it.

Simply seeking eachother out to go cause chaos turned into seeking eachother out to just simply be in eachother’s presence instead. Whatever activity they did started to come second, and as long as they were together they were as happy as could be.

Of course, they never recognized this change. In their point of view, they’ve always been like this. But everyone else can see as plain as day, that something definetly changed.

It was painful for everyone involved, really. For some reason neither of them seemed to acknowledge the obvious feelings between eachother.

Everyone could see the way they looked at eachother, the way they acted around eachother… Everything was so painfully blatant… But they still couldn’t admit it. Even when the lines between friendship and intimacy began to blur.

Realizations!

Nothing about their relationship really changed at this point. They just kind of realized their romantic feelings after being deep in denial for WAYY too long.

The first to realize their feelings was actually Kyra, believe it or not. Which is funny because shes never been the best at realizing her own emotions in general.

She was definetly panicked about it, and decided to not say a word of it to anyone. She didn’t want to ruin the friendship they had, after all he was her dearest friend. So she kept her mouth shut and continued on pretending like it was nothing.

She felt selfish having such feelings. She felt as if she didn’t deserve him, like he deserved better than her because she grew up thinking she must be unlovable. And so she kept quiet for the sake of him, too. She thought it was best for the both of them. (<- LIARRRRR!!!!!!)

Floyd realized a little later, it kind of just hit him one day. They weren’t doing anything in particular, he just looked at her and went “Oh. Ohhh.”

Like a lightbulb went off in his head. He didn’t say anything about it either for awhile. Eels are cowards, after all. And he didn’t know if she felt the same. So he just decided to act like nothing happened, continued this routine of theirs that they’ve grown attatched to.

Maybe there were afew times where they wanted to say something about it, to finally admit the unspoken thoughts they’ve had kept in the back of their minds… But they never go through with it. Always backing out last minute, brushing it off.

The two were cowards, dancing around their mutual feelings. Unsure of how the other felt, so they decided to just leave it all unsaid. Even if the look in their eyes said otherwise.

Saying they were just “best friends” was just so much easier. It was what they were used to, what they were comfortable with. It was easier to brush it all off as them being comfortable eachother, sharing beds and exchanging gentle touches. It was all platonic, of course!

…Though Floyd was hesitant with his own feelings. He never expected to find someone that captured his interest so much… Yet he wondered, was he ready to commit?

Strangely, there was no doubt in his mind. It was yes, it always was, yes. The moment he asked himself that question he answered it immediately at the same time.

Of course, because he realized if it was Kyra, there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do. Man, when did he get so whipped for such a silly shrimpy?

Merfolk only choose one mate for life. And Floyd is sure he wanted his to be Kyra.

He was scared of course after realizing his own feelings. Besides Azul and Jade, he's never let anyone get this close to him. It was strange letting Kyra in like this. He didn't plan on her, not at first at least. but now that he has you, he wants to keep you forever.

Man, she just kept surprising him, huh? He never even thought he could feel so deeply for someone. But hes so glad that he found her, that they found eachother.

Difficulties…

When Kyra left with Epel, Rook and Elena during Book 6, Floyd was upset.

Thats an understatement, really. He was furstrated, worried, and somehow he even felt betrayed.

Why didn’t she tell him?? Doesn’t she know its dangerous? Whats a shrimpy like her gonna do, huh?

He knows Kyra can take care of herself, he knows shes capable and he knows she can defend herself. But that doesn’t stop him from worrying.

Throughout the span that shes gone Floyd is restless. Hes snappier, hes moodier and he cant seem to stop pacing around no matter how hard he tries.

But when Kyra gets back— he completely ignores her.

Kyra was so very confused. Actually, everyone was. This was a first for the two of them. Honestly, Kyra expected him to run towards her just like he always does. But he doesn’t.

Kyra is back, but that doesn’t change his mood. If anything, it worsens. And Kyra doesn’t have a clue why! Everytime she tries to approach him, he just turns his heel and walks away. And hes never looked at her like… that..

Kyra is a total mess. And suddenly shes not as good as keeping her real feelings at bay like she usually is. She wondered if she did something wrong? Said something wrong? Was he finally sick of her? And that was when she realized— she was terrified of the thought of losing him.

In desperation she went to Jade. Maybe she should’ve asked Elena for advice instead, but before she knew it she was sat infront of Jade, asking for help with his brother.

If anything, Jade seemed amused with her situation. Of course he did. But with a mischevious twinkle in his eye, she had a feeling he had a scheme brewing up in his head.

Maybe she should’ve known better than to trust Jade… But she didn’t really have a choice, or so she thought as much.

Something about this situation felt so… Deliberate. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it seemed like he knew she’d come to him for help sooner or later.

After giving Kyra some advice and words of encouragement, he did something rather out of character of him. Bringing into a hug, he held her rather close to himself.

Kyra didn’t really notice this, and accepted the hug with no hesitation. Wrapping her arms around him and sighing as she melted into the well-needed hug.

Little did she know, Jade’s eyes were glued onto his brother’s figure, looming by the doorframe with a scowl on his face. It made Jade chuckle, deciding to tighten her arms around Kyra juust a little more to see what he’d do.

Of course, Floyd wasn’t happy about it. Now, Floyd is not a jealous person by any means. He has better things to focus on, other things to keep him entertained. But at moments like these, when hes already in a bad mood, he can’t help that primal instict, its in his blood after all. A moray is a moray.

Tearing her away from Jade, he drags her to somewhere else. Leaving a very amused Jade watching them leave.

And so, an argument occurs !!! Its a back and forth, Floyd mad about what he just saw, Kyra trying to explain the situation then her getting mad at him back for avoiding her like the plague.

It ended up with Floyd admitting he was mad because she didn’t tell him about her going with them, but at the same time he was mad at himself for not being able to be with her then.

Kyra realizes that, yeah, she probably shouldve let him know she was going. But she couldn’t just brush off the fact he hurt her by doing what he did, shes grown enough as a person at this point to not let her own feelings go unheard.

Reconcilliation!!! They both apologize and promise to do better, and what better way to catch up on lost time than a sleepover??

Best believe that after they made up, they went back to their normal selves as if nothing happened— actually, maybe even worse with how much clingier they are. They seriously missed eachother, seeing how much they stuck together. 😭

“Home”?

When Kyra got news of the possibility of finding a way back to her home she was in shambles. So very conflicted between the place she called home and the place she felt was home.

She knew she had to leave some day. She knew this freedom she had was temporary. She knew one day, she’d have to go back to the life she grew to despise, the life that was never hers.

She didn’t want to leave, though. Of course she didn’t. But still, she didn’t really have a choice.

She decided she wouldn’t do the same mistake and leave Floyd out of the loop. If anyone deserves to know first, its probably him.

And so, while theyre sitting on the rooftop of Ramshackle she mentions it. And Floyd is… Upset. Of course he is. Hes beyond upset, really. He just got his best friend back, now hes hearing she might be going away again? For good? Forever?

No way. He couldnt accept that, there was no way he could. But before he could even say anything— Kyra spoke first.

“I don’t want to go back. I really, really don’t.”

“…You don’t? Huh? Why?” There was a wave of relief that crashed over Floyd when he heard those words fall from her lips, his eyes glued onto the girl beside him. Hanging onto every word she says. “No. Its just… Its not my home, atleast not anymore. I dont think it is.”

“I think, this is my home now.” She chuckles, eyes glued down to the ground below. “…Because you’re here.” She says, turning to look at him. She spoke in that tone that she only used behind closed doors. When no one was looking. That soft, sweet voice she used whenever she carded her fingers through his hair and whispered sweet nothings to him until he fell asleep. It wasn’t unauthetic like the voice she used when they first met— no, it was genuine. Real. Full of adoration, of fondness. Her gaze held so much love.

“…Hah, what’re you gettin’ all sappy for, Sea Angel? Thats so cringe.” He laughed, but his heart soared. Even if it was cheesey, he couldnt help but swoon with just the way she looked at him. Like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. She always said he was the prettiest boy in the world.

She moved forward, her face leaning ever so close to his, so close he could see every line and curve of her features. He laughed at first, “Hey, what’cha tryna do, huh? What? Do I have somethin’ on my face?” He joked, but she didn’t respond. It looked like she was thinking, like she was deep in thought. “…Kyra?”

Her name left his lips for what was the first time. Hanging in the air like a silent prayer of longing, of want. And her own lips met his. Capturing it in a sweet, sudden kiss.

Time seemed to have stopped. It always felt like that when they were together, but this was different. Nothing could prepare him for that�� hell, he didn’t even get the chance to kiss her back, the moment felt as if it went on forever but it was over too quickly all the same.

There was a flash of realization on Kyra’s face as her cheeks flushed a red that could rival Riddle on a rampage. Stumbling and stuttering, she couldn’t handle the embarrassment, and before he could even say anything she ran away. Leaving him on the rooftop, wide eyes and a stomach full of butterflies.

Yeah. Kyra is really stupid sometimes.

After that whole thing, she ran to Leona to let out her thoughts. He listened, though he said he ‘didn’t have a choice anyway’.

“So… You kissed him then you just.. Ran? Seriously?” “I PANICKED!!!”

Floyd and Kyra don’t really interact until Malleus’ overblot. And during the time they’re in Floyd’s dream, shes hoping he doesn’t bring up what happened at the rooftop.

Confession!

The confession takes a long, LOONG time. Im talking probably around book 7 or later. Probably when Kyra confirmed that shes staying in Twisted Wonderland. (Everyone thank Papa Crewel, he sorted out her documents for her :33)

Hehe because eels are cowards and they dont take the shot unless theyre sure it’s a winner. So he waits, and waits some more. And of course, that kiss was the sign he needed to finally just go for it.

Eventually, Floyd does confess. Although I still haven’t thought of the details— it does go something like this.

When Kyra at first laughs at him thinking it was a joke, he got annoyed. He didn’t think this was funny, and after seeing the serious look on his face she stopped immediately.

After realizing he was being genuine, she started straight up BAWLING. Sobbing, because she couldn’t believe someone could ever love her the way she is.

Shes deemed herself as unlovable so very long ago, she didnt expect the person she adored so much to ever love her back. She felt selfish, wanting to accept his feelings. But she wanted to be selfish at that moment.

Floyd has never been one to comfort people. He was never the best at it, but if its her, he’ll try. He always does. It was weird, but if it was her he always found himself doing things he’d never thought he’d do for someone else.

When Kyra started rambling about all of the reasons he “shouldn’t” love her, he started talking about why he loved all of those sides of her. Kissing away her tears n’ all. AUAUAUUUGGHHHH

It was honestly super emotional ESPECIALLY for Kyra, but she of course accepts the confession and they FINALLY KISS PROPERLY OH MY GOD THANK U !! ROUND OF APPLAUSE !!!!!!!

Floyd also calls Kyra by her actual name instead of ‘Shrimpy’ or ‘Sea Angel’ during this confession :3

“Its About Time!”

Honestly, nothing much changes after they confess.

Sure it takes some time to get used to them being officially a couple, but they’re still mostly the same.

However, I’d like to think that they just… Don’t mention it to anyone. Not because they’re keeping their relationship a secret, they just ?? Dont ???? Because they’re weird like that idk and its funny to me

For awhile no one actually knows they’re dating, and one day when someone comments on how they really should just suck it up and start dating they’re like “oh, lol we already are” “WHAT—“

Floyd definetly brags about Kyra a lot though 😭😭 and Kyra does the same… theyre both so down bad its SICKENING.

Funfacts!

Floyd was kind of scared of Kyra for a little while LMAOO 😭 shes a little TOO freaky …

Floyd has stayed over at Ramshackle so much that he’s has a bunch of stuff over there. An extra toothbrush, some changes of clothes, you name it. Its probably there. You can bet Floyd just lets himself into Ramshackle all the time, sometimes even in the middle of the night. But Kyra is always so chill about it 😭 (only because its Floyd HEHE)

Before they even started dating— behind closed doors they already acted like an old married couple 😭

Kyra and Floyd are lowkey super domestic behind closed doors, especially after a sleepover. Waking the other up with kisses ….. Helping eachother get ready for the day, helping eachother get dressed … Cooking together …….. theyre so sickening …………

Even if they aren’t with eachother all the time, they still manage to include eachother in their lives somehow. Whenever they go off on a solo-adventure, they always come back with some sort of trinket that reminded them of the other.

Speaking of, they’re both avid collectors of anything they deem cool enough. Random rocks, acorns, a lost penny, you name it. They like to show eachother the things they found throughout the day to eachother!

They have this silly little game Kyra started. She began hiding little sticky notes with sweet messages or a doodle and sometimes gifts in places she knows Floyd will find, and he’s started doing the same thing. Ever since then, its kind of become more like a competition on who can find the most sticky notes 😭

Kyra gets cuteness aggression from Floyd. Yeah thats it.

^^ she genuinely believes hes the cutest thing ever. Whatever u say queen!!!!

Floyd loves giving Kyra random gifts out of nowhere. The gifts can range from ‘a cool rock’ to a designer jacket. Kyra doesnt know which she prefers HAHAHA

Kyra herself prefers handmade gifts, so she loves to make Floyd pieces of jewelry and clothing! Shes always so proud whenever she sees him wearing something she made :3

Floyd and Kyra have been kicked out of class several times for laughing too hard.

They admitted to eachother before they even started dating that they couldn’t imagine their life without the other… can they pls take the hint omg

Floyd always feels super bad whenever he loses control of his temper around Kyra. One time he snapped at her, and he immediately apologized 😭 he told her to slap him if he ever did that again, hugged her so tight too and Kyra honestly found it so cute 😭

Floyd always perks up whenever he realizes Kyra is close by, always running straight to her. Kyra does the same thing and quite literally jumps into his arms.

Both Kyra and Floyd’s main love language is physical touch!! But Kyra loves to compliment him all the time, and Floyd loves gift giving :3

Kyra always greets Floyd with a kiss on the cheek. Yeah she started doing this before they were event dating im afraid ….

Kyra and Floyd love to read together at night, though Kyra usually falls asleep first AHAHAHA

But !! Kyra is also the first to wake up more often than not, and always wakes Floyd up with butterfly kisses on his face :3

Floyd convinced Azul to add some of Kyra’s favorite foods to the menu of Mostro Lounge just to get her to come visit more often

Kyra fights anyone that bad-mouths Floyd. Floyd doesnt know whether to find it cute or annoyed that she keeps getting herself hurt 😭

^^ SPEAKING OF, Kyra literally unlocked a much more caring side of Floyd with her being so accident-prone 😭 girlie got herself injured so much FLOYD had to step in smh …

Floyd is the kinda guy to carry Kyra if her feet started to hurt while walking or if she sprains an ankle teehee

They’re both banned from an arcade in town after they broke a claw machine and stole all the plushies inside. And other things but that isnt as important.

When Floyd feels like hanging out with her, he’ll look for her around campus then just throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes then just walks away. Kyra never struggles or objects and kind of just … accepts her fate 😭

Rambling…

Kyra grew up thinking the love she received will always be conditional. That she always needed to live up to some sort of expectation, and so she created a ‘perfect’ persona in order to do just that.

She still keeps that persona from the Prologue to Book 1, but begins to break away from it during Book 2– but while in her past she was only loved for the version of herself she created for others— it was the opposite with Floyd.

He disliked her so-called ‘persona’, but fell so deeply in love with her real self.

^^ she was very confused, yet so very happy.

Floyd never expected to ever love or care about someone so deeply, but at the same time he can’t imagine anything he wouldn’t do for Kyra.

Floyd thinks everything is fun as long as Kyra is with him <3

Kyra only ever started showing her more vulnerable side to Floyd during her character development. He was the very first to ever see her break away from the unbothered act she always put on.

Floyd was never one to let himself be so soft and vulnerable around anyone, ever. But strangely, he lets his guard down around Kyra. Kyra knows of the much gentler side to him, and she adores it so very much.

Kyra is extremely understanding and patient of Floyd and his mood swings. She knows he’d never intentionally hurt her, and always knows just how to cheer him up. Whether with a silly joke, a spontaneous adventure or just lying in bed with him in her arms.

Kyra trusts Floyd with her LIFE. She trusts him so much its ridiculous. No matter what the situation, she always feels like she can rely on him… But she wont trust him with her food. Or her plushies.

Extra: Incorrect Quotes (?)

I have more on my 🎀! twst shennanigans tag lol

#🎀🦈! floyra #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #twst yuu #yuusona #oc x canon #twst oc x canon #floyd leech #twst floyd

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rosethyme · 1 day ago

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Some excerpts from the article:

1. Trust yourself Trust-building starts with your own self. It includes trusting your own eyes and gut, as well as building protection from the ways the crazy-making can become internalized.

This also means being trustworthy — not just with information, but with emotions. That way you can acknowledge what you know and admit the parts that are uncertain fears nagging at you.

2. Find others who you trust Hannah Arendt’s “The Origins of Totalitarianism”explored how destructive ideologies like fascism and autocracy grow. She used the word verlassenheit — often translated as loneliness — as a central ingredient. As she meant it, loneliness isn’t a feeling but a kind of social isolation of the mind. We have to consciously break that distance. In Chile they organized under the guise of affinity groups. This was, as its name suggests, people who shared some connections and trust. Finding just a few people who you trust to regularly act with and touch base with is central.

I’ve written an agenda for such gatherings right after a Trump win that you can use.

All of us will benefit from actively organized nodes to help stabilize us. In a destabilized society, you need people who help ground you.

3. Grieve

No matter what we try to do, there’s going to be a lot of loss. The human thing to do is grieve. (Well, apparently humans are also very good at compartmentalizing, rationalizing, intellectualizing and ignoring — but the damage it does to our body and psyche is pretty well documented.)

If you aren’t a feelings person, let me say it this way: The inability to grieve is a strategic error.

4. Release that which you cannot change

An elder once saw me trying to do everything and pulled me aside. “That’s not a healthy lifelong strategy,” she said. Over the last few months I’ve been testing out a terribly challenging tool. It’s a journaling exercise that invites you to reflect on which issues you’ll spend energy on. It asks: what are issues you’ll throw down on, do a lot for, a little for, or — despite caring about it — do nothing at all for? That last question can feel like a kind of torture for many activists, even while we’re intellectually aware that we cannot stop it all.

5. Find your path

One pathway is called “Protecting People.” These are folks surviving and protecting our own — especially those of us directly targeted, such as trans people, folks choosing abortions and immigrants. Another pathway is “Defending Civic Institutions.” This group may or may not be conscious that current institutions don’t serve us all, but they are united in understanding that Trump wants them to crumble so he can exert greater control over our lives. Each bureaucracy will put up its own fight to defend itself.

Then there’s a critical third pathway: “Disrupt and Disobey.”This goes beyond protesting for better policies and into the territory of people intervening to stop bad policies or showing resistance.

Lastly, there’s a key fourth role: “Building Alternatives.”We can’t just be stuck reacting and stopping the bad. We have to have a vision. This is the slow growth work of building alternative ways that are more democratic.

6. Do not obey in advance, do not self-censor

I’m not coaching to never self-protect. You can decide when to speak your mind. But it is a phenomenally slippery slope here we have to observe and combat.

Timothy Snyder has written a helpful book called “On Tyranny” — and turned it into a video series. He cites ceding power as the first problem to tackle, writing: “Most of the power of authoritarianism is freely given. In times like these, individuals think ahead about what a more repressive government will want, and then offer themselves without being asked. A citizen who adapts in this way is teaching power what it can do.”

7. Reorient your political map

The bellicose, blasphemous language of Trump will meet the practical reality of governing. When you’re out of power, it’s easy to unify — but their coalition’s cracks will quickly emerge. We have to stay sharp for opportunities to cleave off support.

How we position ourselves matters: Are we interested in engaging with people unhappy with the regime — whether because they love the current institutions or are unhappy with Trump’s policies on them? Are we able to tell a story that explains how we got here — and do political education? Or are we only interested in maintaining ideological purity and preaching to our own choir?

8. Get real about power

It will be helpful to have a power analysis in our minds, specifically that’s known as the upside-down triangle. This tool was built to explain how power moves even under dictatorships.

The upside down triangle. (What If Trump Wins/Elizabeth Beier)

The central tenet is that like an upside-down triangle, power can be unstable. It naturally topples over without anything supporting it. To prevent that, power relies on pillars of support to keep it upright.

Removing one pillar of support can often gain major, life-saving concessions. In response to Trump’s 2019 government shutdown, flight attendants prepared a national strike. Such a strike would ground planes across the country and a key transportation network. Within hours of announcing they were “mobilizing immediately” for a strike, Trump capitulated.

9. Handle fear, make violence rebound

Handling fear isn’t about suppressing it — but it is about constantly redirecting. One activist described to me two motions in the universe: shrinking or expansion. When Donald Trump directs the Justice Department to use sedition charges against protesters or arrest his political enemies like Jamie Raskin or Liz Cheney, what’s our response?

Activist/intellectual Hardy Merriman released a studied response about political violence that had some news that surprised me. The first was that physical political violence hasn’t grown dramatically in this country — it still remains relatively rare. The threats of violence, however, trend upwards, such as this CNN report: “Politically motivated threats to public officials increased 178 percent during Trump’s presidency,” primarily from the right.

His conclusion wasn’t that political violence isn’t going to grow. Quite the opposite. But he noted that a key component to political violence is to intimidate and tell a story that they are the true victims. Making political violence rebound requires refusing to be intimidated and resisting those threats so they can backfire. (Training on this backfire technique is available from the HOPE-PV guide.)

10. Envision a positive future

I don’t feel certain, and I’m not predicting we win. But we’ve all now imagined storylines about how bad it might get. We would do ourselves a service to spend an equal measure of time envisioning how we might advance our cause in these conditions. As writer Walidah Imarisha says, “The goal of visionary fiction is to change the world.”

Spend some time envisioning how we might advance our cause. (What If Trump Wins/Elizabeth Beier)

Grieve AND organize.

Good article by David Hunter on how to survive the Trump presidency, both on the personal and on the political plane.

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vendettapandav · 2 days ago

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“Curly deserved better” “curly deserved so much more” “curly didn’t deserve what happened to him”

No no no no that’s the POINT. Curly is just as bad as Jimmy. He let so many of the giant red flags that tumbled out of Jimmy’s mouth slide. He was told multiple times about the abuse Jimmy was inflicting on Anya. He ignored Anya even when she pushed so far as to hide the gun on the ship bc she genuinely feared what Jimmy would do to her. Curly heard it all- saw it all- and he chose to do nothing. He had every opportunity to intervene before the crash but he didn’t. He chose not to. He blathered on and on about responsibility, about his willingness to do anything for his crew, but when they needed him most he did nothing. He just stood there and watched and let it happen.

And now he can’t do anything. He has lost the ability to make that choice. He physically can’t intervene now. His chance to change things and take responsibility has passed him by. Now, he has to just sit there and watch how the mask formed from all those red flags he so willfully ignored peels away and reveals the monster that was always there beside him. Now, he has to just sit there and watch as one by one, Jimmy manipulates and drives each and every one of the people that he swore up and down he would protect to the very edge, and kills them. Now, he just has to sit there and watch as Jimmy justifies each of his actions by blaming everyone else for the situation he put them in- the situation that Curly allowed him to put them in. He has to sit there and watch as Jimmy does everything in his power to create a palatable, sanitized narrative of what happened all so he can cover up what he was doing.

And Curly chose to stand there passively and allowed all of it until he physically didn’t have a choice anymore.

And in the end, Curly is the only one left to tell the story. The story of how it was all his responsibility, how he was supposed to do anything for his crew. And now, it’s all his fault because he couldn’t do just one thing. He has to live with that fact for the rest of his life. He has to live with the fact that his willful ignorance, his choice not to act, cost four people their lives. He will live with those physical and mental scars forever. But even worse, he has to live knowing that that’s the truth. And that in some cruel, twisted way, Jimmy was right.

The truth doesn’t really get rid of that awful taste in your mouth though, does it?

#hello I have very normal thoughts #idk man I am just very tired of people defending curly as if he is not just as bad as Jimmy #the only person worse than the predator is the one who knows they they’re actively victimizing people #and CHOOSES to turn a blind eye to it #knowingly enabling the abuse to avoid simply dealing with a conflict??#especially when you’re the CAPTAIN???#nah. straight to jail #and yes I know people say pony express would have penalized the whole crew for one person’s actions #we know that bc it happens within the first five minutes of the game #but three things:#first off if curly’d reputation is half as good as is mentioned then I feel like he could have swayed the blowback to just be on Jimmy #second of all even if upper management is an issue there were still tons of measures he could have taken to stop Jimmy #lock him up. or keep him monitored at all time between curly and Swansea. stick him in the cryopod. etc #and third. THE COMPANY WENT UNDER ANYWAY. THERE WAS NOTHING HOLDING HIM BACK EXCEPT HIS OWN FUCKIN NEPOTISM #There is no way you can spin this to make curly look good I’m sorry #he is one of Jimmy’s victims. yes. absolutely. but before he was his victim he was still Jimmy’s accomplice #a very willing accomplice at that #and no amount of sanitizing the story will change that fact #and he has to live with that now #mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #panda posting

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webanglikethat · 1 day ago

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to every single queer person out there—trans, gay, bi, pan, ace, nonbinary, however you identify—let me just say this: I am so, so fucking sorry. SO, SO, SO FUCKING SORRY. I am furious. I’m pissed off beyond words. english seems like a forgotten skill as I'm typing this. I am so sorry.

we never deserved this. we never fucking deserved this.

I am sorry that you’ve been betrayed like this, that we’ve all been betrayed like this. I’m sorry that SO MANY of our damn votes weren’t counted, like we don’t even matter. like we’re just numbers on a page that they can toss out without a thought. like we can just be erased, as if we do not exist, like we’re puzzle pieces that don’t fit into their perfect picture, so they just throw us out, discarded, like we were never there in the first place. I’m sorry she just conceded, just gave up. left us hanging. just handed us over like we’re some afterthought, like we’re collateral damage in this disgusting twisted fucking game. as if our lives, our rights, everything we fought for, meant nothing. she just rolled over and let us get steamrolled, like we’re just noise, just numbers on a page, just nothing worth fighting for. do they even care that real people, people who trusted her, who put their hopes in her, are being crushed by this? and not only in the US. we ALL believed in her. and ... she ... just ... she was gone. just like that. and we’re the ones who have to pay the price. we’re the ones left with our futures on the line, wondering what rights we’ll have tomorrow, if we’ll even be safe tomorrow. and she just… gave it all up. handed us over to people who are hell-bent on erasing us, who’ve been clear from day one about what they think of us, what they want to take away. how do we even make sense of that? how do we believe in ANYONE? how can you abandon us in the lion's den and yet demand compassion and trust? to trust in the very hands that have left us to bleed, to burn, to fight alone?

we deserve better. we deserved someone who would stand with us when it mattered, who wouldn’t just throw in the towel and walk away when things got tough. we’re not just collateral. we’re not disposable. we’re human beings with lives, with love, with the right to exist without fear. we aren't statistics, diagrams, names forgotten on a wall. we are queer, and we are real. and she ... just left us to face down a nightmare she knows damn well is coming. so how dare they tell us to “keep faith” when they’ve shown us that our lives were never worth the fight to them. we needed someone who would dig in and say, “no, you can’t have them. not now, not ever.” and instead? we were left out in the cold to fend for ourselves. like always. like fucking always. and this isn’t just some political setback for us. this is our lives, our right to exist. we’ve fought and bled and stood through hell just to claim an inch of ground to live openly, to love who we love, and to be who we are. we deserved so much more than empty promises. and we won’t forget this.

right now, it feels like every warning, every fear we’ve had has come to life in the worst way. and let’s be real—what’s next is terrifying. I will not sugarcoat it. rights are going to be stripped away, our existence denied, our safety threatened. trump hasn’t hidden it; he’s promised it. this was supposed to be our home too. but they’re pushing us out, forcing us to hide. so please, if you need to, go back into the closet. change states if that’s what it takes. hell, think about leaving the country if you can, because it’s becoming clear that staying might mean risking everything. you do not owe anyone anything, just think of yourself first. you are your own priority.

and god .. Love. Love—something so pure, something so simple—has been twisted into a reason for others to hate us, to fear us, to hurt us. we were never supposed to be the ones people saw as a “threat.” that label should belong to hatred, to racism, to homophobia, to everything that has poisoned this world. but instead, somehow we are the ones they call dangerous. we are the ones they want to erase. and it’s maddening. what kind of world are we living in, where the fight to just exist is an endless battle? was it not love that led Eve to take that fateful bite, trusting in the bond she shared with Adam? and if love is the foundation upon which humanity was built, how can we be faulted for following its lead? of all the things we could hate, and we chose love.

if this moment feels like it’s too much, if it feels like everything you’ve fought for, every piece of yourself you’ve worked to own, every right, every dream, every bit of safety is collapsing around you -- I get it. I feel it in my bones. it feels like drowning, like being swallowed whole by a storm that never ends. the shore seems so far away. but listen to me: don’t you fucking dare let them break you. don’t let them get that satisfaction. don’t give them that power. we are not here to let monsters erase us. we’re here to outlast every single one of them. we’re here to survive and thrive. we are queer, we are real, we exist, we will continue to exist.

their power, their hatred, their cruelty—it won’t last forever. I know it's difficult to see the light at the end of this tunnel. but they are the ones who don’t belong in a world built on compassion, on love, on freedom. You are the real thing. You are here. You deserve to be here, and you deserve to feel safe, loved, and free.

if you’re feeling like there’s no point anymore, if this all feels like it’s too damn much to take, please just hang on. this fight is brutal, and sometimes it feels like it never ends. but I’m begging you—don’t give up. don’t let them have that final victory. don’t let them silence your voice, your light, your life. scream, cry, punch walls, call someone, reach out, hold on to whatever will keep you here another day, another hour. do whatever you have to do to survive this moment. because you’re needed. we need you. the world needs you.

you might not see it now, but you are a part of something big, something powerful, something they wish they could destroy but never will. you’re part of a legacy of resilience, of love, of defiance against hatred. every queer person, every person who has ever had to stand up against a world that told them they shouldn’t exist, that they should be crucified, erased, beaten up, has carried that legacy forward, passed it down so we could be here. so you could be here. and they did not survive all they did, did not fight, did not sacrifice so much just for us to lose hope. we’re still here because others fought and held on. now, it’s our turn. we owe it to them, to ourselves, to hold on with everything we have, to fight with everything in us.

and one day, I promise you, I truly pinkie promise you, that you’re going to wake up in a world that has moved beyond these hateful voices. one day, you will wake up in a world that sees you, that values you, where you don’t have to fight just to exist. you deserve to live in it, to walk in the sunlight without fear, without shame. they don’t get to take that from you. they don’t get to erase you. they don’t get to win.

this moment is hard. it’s beyond hard. but you, every single one of you, are worth it. you are not alone in this fight. you are surrounded by countless others who feel this too, who know this pain, who are holding on right alongside you.

so please, hold on. you belong, and nothing they do can change that. they cannot snuff out your light. they cannot erase your legacy. they cannot undo the love you were born to spread.

stay. fight like hell. be louder, be prouder, be everything they tell you not to be. because you are worth every ounce of this battle. and we will see the day they’re gone. we will make it through.

we too shall rise from the ashes.

to my queer family, my phoenix.

#lgbtq #us politics #elections 2024 #usa election #presidential election #elections #donald trump #fuck donald trump #lgbtq community

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anamateurhumanbeing · 2 days ago

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That did not change your mind. That man had taken everything from you. Every night for the past 2 decades you see his green eyes when you go to bed, haunting you in your sleep. You spent too much time training for this moment to turn back now. You need this.

At the dead of night you quietly sneak into his house. You hear the television running. Going into the living room you find your target. From your hiding spot you can spot him on his chair, a small child with curly hair asleep on his lap. A man walks into the room. You nearly yelp and give yourself away. He looks so much like the mercenary did the night he killed your family, right down to those green eyes. But he's different enough for you to remind yourself he's not the target, his father is.

The young man picks up the child, his daughter you presume, and carries her upstairs. You wait nearly half an hour, making sure the son won't return. The monster is all alone now. A part of you hesitates. If you kill this man, take him away from his family, what makes you any better than him?

'Because I have a good reason,' you remind yourself. Your doubts fade, but there's still a small voice in the back of your head telling you to turn back now.

You make your move. You sneak up behind him, putting a hand to his mouth. You pull out your knife, bright red in colour, custom made, and hold it to his neck.

"Scream and your family dies too," you whisper. An empty threat, you have no intention of harming them. You don't plan on reveling in this too long.

"Do you remember me?" you ask as you take off your mask, revealing your own brown eyes. The former mercenary shakes his head.

"Please. I'm sorry, do whatever you want to me, just please let my family go," he begs.

That only makes you madder. "Sorry? You don't even know what you did to me, and you have the gall to apologize!" you hiss, careful not to raise your voice too much.

"I killed someone you love, no? It's what I did for a living. I was an awful man. I deserve what ever you plan on doing to me, but please don't do it here. Please leave my f-"

You sock him in the jaw. You have tears in your eyes. How dare this disgrace of a human being pretend to care.

"Why?" You ask. You told yourself you wouldn't ask, that it would not make a difference.

Tha man's expression, while still full of fear, changes into one full of shame.

"I needed the money, I-"

You don't let him finish. Hearing that your family was just a paycheck for him was too much. You scream as you plunge your knife into his chest. You pull it out, then stab him again. And again. And again. When you entered this building you told yourself that you would make it quick. You aren't a monster, you said. Yet you look down, the man's chest torn to shreds, his blood coating both of your bodies. It feels good.

You can't leave him like this. You know it will devastate his family if he disappears, but it would devastate them more if they find him like this. You pick up the corpse, and begin to carry it off, when you're interrupted by a scream. You turn around to see the man's son, holding a golf club in his hand, his face distraught.

The man takes a swing at you, which you narrowly dodge. You drop your knife and raise your hands. "Wait, you need to understand. That m-"

The second sing hits and it knocks you to the ground. He delivers a third swing to your head, you can feel some blood trickling down your face. You manage to grab your knife and slash at your attacker's leg. You attempt to run away, but he tackles you back down to the ground and begins punching your face. Without thinking you take your knife and jab it into his throat. The son falls on top of you. You push his body off of yours, and let your blade fall to the ground. You don't know how long you spend lying there.

You've killed dozens of people. You always had a reason to do so.

'He was going to kill you, you had no choice but to take his life,' you tell yourself. But you know that isn't entirely true. That man would still be alive if you hadn't come here tonight.

You sit up, and your brown eyes make contact with a pair of green eyes. The curly haired girl is standing in the doorway. She quickly runs away. You get up, and you run into the other direction, barging out of the house, out of the town. You don't even notice you left your knife on the floor. You just keep running, until you finally pause to take a breath in the woods.

What have you done? You have no idea how much that girl had seen. You hear voices and footsteps. No doubt an angry mob of townsfolk on their way to avenge their leader and his son. You take off, and eventually make your way back to the base you call a home.

You look into a mirror. Your covered in blood, some of it's yours, most of it isn't. You stay in the shower for long after it's all washed away. You still feel dirty.

You sell off most of your gear. Spend most of the money you made on getting a new identity and move nearly three states away.

You get a job as a self-defence coach. Maybe something good can come out of those years you wasted training. It's through that you meet your husband. You don't think you deserve it. The love. You confess everything, expecting him to go to the police. He says he understands, and he reassures you that you aren't that person anymore. You don't believe him. You eventually have children, twins. They're the light of your life. You try to teach them kindness, to let go of grudges instead of seeking retribution.

You still have trouble sleeping. You still see those green eyes when you close your eyes, but now they belong to a young girl.

You wake up from a nightmare. You quietly get out of bed, making sure not to wake your husband. You make your way to then kitchen for a glass of water, looking at the various family photos you've taken over then past two decades as you walk down the stairs. Once you reach the living room you pause. There's an open window. You definitely remembered closing it earlier.

Looking around the room, you notice your son left his guitar lying around. You mentally note to buy him a new one as you grab it and hold it like a weapon. Cautiously, you walk up to the window. Looking down, you see footprints in the snow leading towards it. You barely have time to process when something hits you in the head.

When you come to, you find yourself bound by ropes. It's too dark to tell where you are, but you can see a human figure standing in front of you. They're wearing nothing but black, and are holding a familiar red knife. You look up at their face, and you see a woman, with green eyes and curly hair.

"Do you remember me?" she asks.

When you were a child, a mercenary made you watch as he killed your entire family in front of you. You swore revenge. Decades later, you've finally tracked them down- …only to find they're now a pacifistic geriatric who's beloved by his community.

#writers #writers on tumblr #writing prompts #writeblr #writing inspiration

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levandright · 2 days ago

Text

BEST FOR YOU ✦ P.SH

pairings : ex! sunghoon x fem reader ୨ৎ content / warning(s) : hurt with comfort, sunghoon gets closure ୨ৎ word count : 1.5k

synopsis. sunghoon reflects on his past relationship with you, feeling the weight of your breakup and the distance that has grown between you. as he sees you move on, he is reminded of your shared memories and the love you once had. coming to terms with the changes in your lives, sunghoon finds peace, wishing you well as he lets go of the past and the connection you once shared. lev notes : this is inspired by the song best for you by slchld <3 i actually cried when i first finished writing the draft which was shorter (around 700 words) and this is my first ever angst!! hopefully it doesn't dissapoint >.> i genuinely had such a hard time writing some parts but i pulled through with the power of friendship!!

sunghoon sat in his room, the dim light of his desk lamp casting shadows against the walls. the air conditioning hummed softly, the only sound filling the silence of the quiet evening. he leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as his gaze drifted to the window. the stillness in the air matched the quiet that had settled within him—a feeling he couldn’t shake, no matter how many times he tried to distract himself.

there was something about the loneliness tonight that felt different. it wasn’t just the silence that made it seem so heavy, but the creeping ache in his chest that had been growing for months, ever since your breakup. sometimes, in the middle of a busy day, he would forget that the person who used to be at the center of his world was no longer there. but in moments like this, when it was just him and solitude, the reality of it all hit harder than he cared to admit.

the soft glow of his phone screen illuminated his face as he unlocked it, absentmindedly scrolling through his instagram feed. it wasn’t like he was looking for anything specific—just trying to fill the emptiness in the room with something, anything. his thumb paused when he saw your post. you were smiling brightly, laughing with your friends at some outdoor café. the image felt almost surreal to him.

he had never been the type to go through his ex’s social media, not anymore. but today, something had drawn him in. he couldn’t help but wonder how you were doing, how you were living your life without him. it had been a while since you breakup, and he had been trying his best to move on, to accept that things were over between you two. but seeing you this happy, living the life you’d always dreamed of—it hurt.

your smile was the same as it had always been, bright and effortless. but now it wasn’t for him. it wasn’t because of him. that realization hit harder than he expected. his heart clenched, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

he continued scrolling through your feed, stopping at another post—a picture of you and him, taken months ago at the park. he remembered that day so clearly, the way the sunlight had filtered through the trees and made everything glow. it had been a perfect day, one that had felt like it would last forever. how naive he had been, thinking that nothing could tear you apart.

but everything had changed.

back then, you and sunghoon had been inseparable. high school sweethearts. you had shared everything with each other: dreams, laughter, and even the inevitable frustrations of growing up. you were each other’s safe haven. but life had a funny way of pushing people in different directions, of breaking apart the very things that once seemed unbreakable.

he remembered the late nights he’d stayed up studying, only to have you call him crying, talking about how much the distance between you two was weighing on your heart. and then there were the times he was too exhausted from his part-time job to really listen, too caught up in his own world to hear the desperation in your voice. he was juggling university, work, and trying to hold onto a relationship that was slowly slipping through his fingers.

sunghoon had never been good at balancing everything. he had never been great at handling the outbursts or the tantrums that sometimes came from the overwhelming pressure of your long-distance relationship. back then he had only been able to offer quick reassurances, tired words that meant little in the face of your pain. and when the break-up came, it felt like a punch to the gut.

the reason you drifted apart was simple, yet so complicated at the same time. you both had grown, and in that process, you had grown away from each other. the person he was back then, caught between uni and a part-time job, he had failed to truly see the depth of what you needed. and now looking back, he wished he could have done better.

"i should have tried harder," he whispered to himself. "i should have been there more."

but that didn’t change anything now. he couldn’t go back in time and fix his mistakes. all he had now were memories, and the reality that those memories would never become anything more.

the pain of that realization had hit hardest after the breakup, it felt like the ground had shifted beneath him. for so long, he had imagined his future with you. suddenly, he was adrift, lost in a world that no longer made sense. he remembers nights lying awake, replaying the last few months of your relationship, questioning what he could have done differently, feeling anger, confusion, and heartache twist together inside him.

eventually, he learned to let go of the resentment, to see things with a little more clarity. you both had grown, and sometimes people simply grow in different directions. even now, he knows that his feelings for you haven’t faded, that part of him will always love you in some quiet, unspoken way. but he’s come to accept that you’re better off without him, that he needs to let you go fully.

and then, one night, it happens. he’s scrolling again, mindlessly, when he sees it. a new photo—one that’s different from the rest. you’re standing next to someone, a guy with an easy smile and a warm, gentle presence. jay.

jay, sunghoon had heard about him from mutual friends. he was kind, thoughtful, everything sunghoon wished he could have been for you back then. and now, it was clear: you had found someone new. someone who made you happy. someone who could give you everything he couldn’t.

sunghoon sat back in his chair, feeling a lump rise in his throat. it felt like the final confirmation that you had truly moved on, that his place in your life was nothing more than a shadow now. he’d always imagined a future with you. he’d imagined growing old together, supporting each other through everything life threw at you. but now, all he had were his memories—and even those felt like they were fading, slowly but surely.

he looked at the photo again, your smile still as bright as ever, but this time, it wasn’t for him. it was for jay. and a strange peace settled over him. you had found love again. you were with someone who made you feel the way you deserved to feel.

sunghoon took a deep breath and opened your chat. he had been avoiding it for so long, unsure of what to say, but now he knew. he wanted to reach out one last time. he didn’t expect anything in return, but he needed to say what was in his heart. after all, he had never been good at letting go, but it was time.

his fingers hovered over the keyboard as he searched for the right words. they trembled slightly as he types:

“hey y/n… i saw your post. i just wanted to say, i’m really happy for you. you deserve all the happiness in the world, and i know jay will treat you the way you’ve always deserved to be treated. thank you for everything, for all the memories. i’ll always wish you the best.”

he paused, staring at the message for a moment before pressing “send.” a weight lifted off his shoulders as soon as he did, his heart heavy yet at peace. by saying goodbye in that simple message, he was letting go, wishing you well—even though he knew he’d never see your smile in person again.

sunghoon sat back in his chair, his eyes drifting back to the photo of you and jay, the one that had started all of this. for the first time in months, he wasn’t angry or sad. he wasn’t resentful. instead, he felt an odd sense of closure, a peaceful acceptance that the two of you were no longer meant to be.

his mind wandered back to the first time he saw you, in the school library. you had been sitting at a table, a pile of books in front of you, your head slightly down as you concentrated. when your eyes met his, you smiled shyly, and something in him had shifted. it was as if the world had slowed down just for that moment. that smile had been the first spark, the first flicker of something that would grow into an overwhelming love. that first smile had stayed with him, a memory he carried through every moment you shared.

“i fell for you right then,” sunghoon whispered to the empty room. “and i think, a part of me will always love you.”

he closed his eyes and leaned back, letting the memory of that smile wash over him. it was bittersweet, but in that moment, he finally understood. you had been his first love, and though that chapter had closed, it would always be a part of him. and that was enough.

he whispered a final goodbye to himself, letting the memory fade into the stillness of the night. with it, he carried a silent promise to move forward, even if it meant holding a small piece of you with him forever.

as he drifted off to sleep that night, he silently wished you well, hoping that wherever life took you, you would find everything you were looking for—and more.

perm taglist. @honeychocos @honeybelleee @manaah02 (open!)

©levandright

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