#overmind blushes :)

[addcests]

the perfect mask

the perfect mask [ao3]

pairing Overmind x the other three adds (if you squint hard enough and believe)

words 1909

summary Having the perfect mask was a necessary skill Overmind honed over time. Carefully crafting his veneer for the day, a facade he would then don for everyone to see. It took a lot to compose himself this way. But it also took even more to get under Overmind’s skin. 

Unfortunately, who would know better to get under his skin than himself?

It all began with that pesky time deviant, of course. 

-

“Overmind!” 

And his voice was far too delighted than Overmind cared for.

“Paradox!” he returned with just as much energy, his smile hopefully not as strained as it felt. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, shifting his gaze down to the smaller form of his.

He didn’t like how Paradox watched him, his eyes owlish as he regarded him longer in silence and then he smiled.

“You know, there's no audience for you to play for."

“I am unsure what you could possibly mean.”

Paradox didn’t seem phased by his none too subtle deflection at all and jumped topics as if it were nothing, “Overmind! Can you hold up two fingers?”

Overmind already felt like he shouldn’t, as a sort of nagging formed at the back of his thoughts that maybe Paradox was up to no good but of course, instead, he complied. 

Paradox stood back and narrowed his eyes as if straining to see. “Hmm, it’s hard to make out.”

“Paradox, you asked me to hold up two fingers.” Overmind then held up three fingers.

“And that’s still two, right?”

Overmind could feel a slight crack in his mask, as he smiled again, lips pulled tighter than before. He was being toyed with, wasn't he? “Paradox, surely even you can see how many fingers I’m holding up. If that is all, I think I should be on my way.” And Overmind promptly turned on his heel, and paced away, a scowl already replacing the way too plastic smile he showed Paradox.

“Overmind, don’t leave yet. I’m having trouble seeing things. You can fix it right?”

Honestly, Overmind figured if Paradox could not see a simple finger count from less than five feet away, then Paradox had bigger issues at hand. (And he did have way bigger issues at hand.) He hardly got to finish the thought nor ponder what the pesky dimension traveler was up to when a rather bold hand wrapped around his wrist to stop him and then tug him back. “Paradox—!” And he was whirled back, not of his own accord, his eyes dropping down to level with the smaller Paradox. Or at least, that’s what he should have done but instead his gaze immediately shot up, seeing Paradox’s taller form almost towering over him as he closed the space between them. “Paradox,” he tried again, doing his best to keep the stutter from his alarmed voice.

“I said I couldn’t see Overmind,” and Paradox’s grin turned shit-eating, as he leaned in, leaving hardly a gap between both of their bodies, “maybe you should come closer, doctor.” 

-

Overmind wasn’t sure how, but he managed to escape Paradox. His cackling was still ringing in his ears, even now.

“Overmind?” Doom Bringer asked. 

Ah, right, he had Doom Bringer to thank for that he supposed, coming to find him as he tended to about this hour of the day. “It’s nothing. Besides, it was about that time now anyway, was it not?” To which Overmind was referring to the regular check-ups he had set scheduled for Doom Bringer. He was a rather—and Overmind stopped, sparing a glance Doom Bringer’s way to watch him pull his shirt overhead to reveal muscles defined from years and years of strenuous training—fine specimen after all, and if the brawler wanted to subject himself to his myriads of testing, who was he to refuse? 

“Yer doing the thing again,” Doom Bringer grunted.

And what did that mean? Why did everyone seem so inclined to pick at him today? 

Overmind elected to ignore it, knowing Doom Bringer wouldn’t push and he didn’t. “So, how are you? Did you change anything in your regimen? The results are still the same, no variables altered?”

“Nope, nothin’ changed. Ah, before we started though, I did sort of get banged up from being a bit careless, so…” Doom Bringer trailed off, a lone shoulder shrugging helplessly.

Well, that wouldn’t do. He needed Doom Bringer to be in tip top shape, or at least to be form perfect enough that it wouldn’t change his desired results. “How much is ‘banged up’?” Overmind began looking Doom Bringer over from afar, and then closer. A hand trailing along his forearms, fingers gliding over taut muscle, twitching under his touch. His touch stayed clinical in nature. Overmind hummed, “I see nothing. You don’t react to pain from my touch.” 

Doom Bringer grunted again, watching Overmind work. “Suppose maybe the bruises were a week or so ago, my bad.” He then hopped onto the examining table and leaned his weight back. “I think I did feel something… hard a while ago though.” 

Did he perhaps mean a lump of some sort? Was he swelling somewhere? Overmind followed him, drawing closer once more. “Do you remember where?” Again, Overmind began mapping along his body, not seeing any bruises nor feeling anything out of place. His hands traveled back up along his forearms, and then ran down, smoothing over hard abs and down to his waist. With not much to go from, Overmind clucked his tongue in annoyance and pulled back. “How very careless of you, Psyker. To forget where you were injured. It must not be that important—”

“No, I remember. It was lower.”

Accordingly, Overmind lowered his hands more, fingertips able to feel how the muscle of Doom Bringer’s thigh flexed under his touch. “Did you perhaps strain a quadricep?” To test his theory, he applied pressure to the area, squeezing none too gently and felt how Doom Bringer’s leg jumped at that. “You couldn’t have torn it.” He kept mental notes as he went along, applying pressure as the brawler gave no further input, bodily or otherwise. Wondering why the other had fallen so silent, however, he finally lifted his eyes, and was met with a smirking Doom Bringer.

“It’s around the area, but you’ll hav’ to get a little closer than that, Overmind. Want me t’ show you?”

-

Dominator’s lab was a solace after running into the pesky duo earlier. (He would be lying if he said he didn’t remember the feeling of Paradox’s lips being a breath away that certainly did not make him tremble and the warmth of Doom Bringer’s skin that he could feel even through his gloves that he ached to learn again.)

“Hoh, and what brings you to my little humble corner?” 

Despite his lab being perfect, Overmind couldn’t relax around him. The mask was back in full force now. “I was interested in seeing your automations again. I think I could use them to my advantage.”

Overmind waited for Dominator to pick at him too, just like the others. But that never came. Just a little nonchalant shrug of his shoulder and a mug brought to his lips for a drink of coffee. After a small sip, he faced Overmind and nodded his head in the other direction. “Sure, we may as well exchange our data up to this point too, then.”

Perhaps, he didn’t need to keep his mask wound so tightly around him.

“Gladly.”

>

It was a welcome relief and perhaps that was why he lowered his guard, if only for a moment.

“How do you deal with those two all of the time?” 

“Yes?” Dominator hummed in response, distracted, eyes carefully trained on holographic windows of scrolling numbers and data.”Do you mean Psyker and Paradox? Did they get to you?” He paused, flickering his wrist to disperse the window, and then turning to Overmind with a hand on his hip, “Again?” 

Well, perhaps that’s why he hadn’t felt the need to keep his mask up for so long, despite wanting to out of habit. Sometimes, Dominator could read him, see right through it. “Absolutely irritating,” he mumbled, gaze drifting to some unimportant hunk of scrap to their far side. He did not make a point to make clear if he was referring to Dominator reading him as he did or the two troublemakers from earlier. Snorting rather ungracefully, he continued,  “Anyhow, they both seemed to be in on it. Whatever it was.”

“Oh?” The scientist prompted again, listening attentively. 

“They would…” Overmind refused to believe his cheeks were warm enough to flush, but, recalling the earlier events caused heat to color his face. “Make passes, of sorts. And, anyway!” Not wanting to linger on that, he pressed on, “They seemed to be in on these preposterous jokes of theirs. Even bothering me throughout the rest of the day with them. I am certain of it.”

Dominator suppressed a chuckle, a gloved hand hiding his mouth. “That does sound like them, yes. Well, what sort of things would they say?” He then stood and moved some distance away, picking at this part and that, searching for some part Overmind had needed.

Overmind sighed into his palm, resting his cheek in his hand. Did it matter what they had said? It wasn’t as if he forgot, but he didn’t want to repeat half the things the two had said to him through the course of the day. Especially not to Dominator. Instead, he turned his attention to the various display screens and all its numbers fluctuating. He decided to change the topic then, “Dominator, what do you make of this—?” 

Dominator had quite the height advantage over him as he was sitting. Leaning over his shoulder, scarf tickling his cheeks, the scientist dropped to his ear and murmured, “What’s twelve inches long and hangs in front of an asshole? Well, Overmind? Care to find out?” Fingers curled into Overmind’s bangs, nudging them away from his cheek, knuckles brushing his face tenderly.

The juxtaposition of it all made Overmind freeze and then startle.

“—Dominator!?” 

It was almost comical how Dominator’s free hand pried Overmind’s hand away from his cheek and dropped the part he’d been asking for into the center of his hand instead. “It’s a stethoscope. Haa, why are you making that face?” Dominator grinned, pleased as a cat. “Did they happen to use that one on you already? I’m afraid that’s the only one I recall. Wait, Overmind, where are you going already? We didn’t finish the reports for the data, yet.” 

-

Later that evening, they were all sitting around the dining room table: Dominator at center, equipped with a new cup of coffee, Paradox to his left, poking at Dominator’s cake, hoping to steal a piece without his noticing, and Doom Bringer watching Paradox’s attempts as he took a swig of water.

Overmind entered, his smile pristine and crisp, watching the scene unfold before him with a hand on his hip. He then announced, “I have determined you are all dying very soon and don’t have much time left.”

Doom Bringer and Dominator both exchanged confused stares. 

Paradox, however, was giddy despite the sudden clinical approach of a morbid topic and humored Overmind, “Really?! Whatever do you mean?”

“Ten.”

Dominator asked, “Ten what?”

Doom Bringer followed up, “Ten months? Weeks?” He counted off.

“Ten, nine, eight—”

Overmind never saw them run so fast.

[twilight-red-mage]

Entry #22: Prejudice

FFXIV 30-Day Writing Challenge

Prompt #22: Monster

A shot rang out across the Dravanian Forelands, the sound of one of the Gnath shooting at its prey with one of their strange, long, rifle-like weapons. Tara had avoided its strike this time, and quickly she retaliated with a bolt of lightning from her crystal. Her aim was not as faulty, and the creature fell dead.

Tara couldn’t help but think solemnly that this was one way of being separated from the Overmind.

Having finished her mission, Tara hiked her way back up the hills, trekking through the grass and mud towards Loth ast Vath. They had started a quaint adventurer’s guild - inspired and supported by none less than the Warrior of Light, Tara heard - and Tara helped them out sometimes when she was in the area. She found that she admired the struggle of the Vath to assert their independence. The Nonmind, they called themselves. Yes, Tara liked that very much.

The Vath Keeneye waited for her at the crudely constructed wooden counter that he often stood by as he delegated some of the many tasks the guild needed to handle to the adventurers - Vath or otherwise - that had volunteered to assist them. “<click> <click> Welcome back, friend,” he said to her. “Do you bring good news?”

“Yes, I managed to deactivate those, um... smoke... plume... thingies. Uh... you know what I mean!”

The Keeneye clicked madly for a few moments - a bizarre sound that Tara interpreted as a chuckle. “You are a funny one. We of the Nonmind often struggle to use words like your people. Yes, very much. We did not use many when we were part of the Onemind. But you seem to have even more trouble than us. Much trouble.”

Tara laughed with a sheepish grin. “Eheh... yeah. Talking isn’t my forte...” The Keeneye handed Tara some gil as a payment for her help and she smiled as she took it from his long, clawed hand. “I-I, um...” she continued, “I think this is a n-nice place... a-and, I like helping you out when I can. Seeing all of the Vath being friendly with us... I-it, um... I don’t know, it... it makes me think that we can turn things around.”

The Vath Keeneye stood for a moment, then responded to her. “<click> <click> I think I am confused. Yes, rather confused. What do you want to turn?”

Tara blushed. “O-oh, uh, I just meant, you know, the state of things! Like... m-maybe someday, the Onemind won’t be a thing anymore. And then, maybe, all of the Gnath will get along with us. People won’t think of you all as beasts so much anymore! And not just you, but everyone else: the Ananta, the Amalj’aa, the Ixal... everyone.”

“Yes, such a thing would indeed be good. Very nice indeed. I would enjoy becoming the comrades of more of your race.”

Tara giggled, suddenly feeling the tension leave her shoulders as the image of herself surrounded by all kinds of beastmen entered her head. It was a sweet thought. “Same to you!”