#4 permanent teeth removed for room in my mouth

[keigelsss]

Hard At Work - Kuroo Tetsuro

a/n: HERE IT IS!!!!! it’s really bad. i struggled. i just wanted to get it over with but this idea weighed heavily on my mind for so long and i cant seem to get it out the way i want so this is the bare minimum with what i was trying to go for sorry :/

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, timeskip!kuroo, dom!kuroo, language, teasing, literally half the fic is foreplay oops, smut, oral sex, unprotected sex (no glove no love y’all), kuroo smacks your ass once, sir kink?, SIZE KINK, belly bulge, overstim, squirting, creampie, as always my shitty writing. *thoughts in italics… if i forgot a warning pls lmk*

Summary: you never thought you’d find yourself in this situation, let alone with the man in charge of your paycheck. luckily those files weren’t that important.

word count: 4.7K

You’ve only been working in this position for about two months now, assistant to one of the smartest sports promoters in the country. It’s a wonderful job and you get to meet star athletes almost every day, but what wasn't in the job description was the super hot promoter that you would be working under literally. If you thought it was hard coming into work with someone so damn attractive, the amount of teasing that went on in and outside of the office was insufferable.

Your day began like every other; come in, bring Kuroo some coffee, a full list of the day's meetings and tidy up in his office. While setting the coffee on his desk, you anticipate what comment he’ll make about the lack of a baked good to accompany his beverage.

“Awe Y/n, looks like you forgot to bring something to munch on again,” he was currently going through emails while twirling a pen in his hand. That scheming smirk that you’ve come to recognize all too well plastered all over his smug face. 

“I’m sorry, Kuroo, they were all out at the café.” You placed your belongings on the small desk located in the corner of his office, spending some time to go over today's schedule as well as sort through a few contracts and client files.

“It’s all good,” he let out a soft chuckle. “You could always let me eat you instead, shortcake.”

You gave a pointed glare to the man before sighing and closing the file cabinet you just finished sorting. “I think it’s best if we get to work, we’ve got a long day ahead of us, sir.” he sends the smallest smirk in your direction then returns to his tasks. Shit... Did I mean to make it come out like that? Whatever he always teases the ever-living hell out of me so it's about time I had my share of the fun too, it’s only fair. Right?

Most of the day was uneventful, the typical routine coming and going without any interruptions. At around 4 pm though, you found yourself swamped with far more paperwork to go through than usual as well as having to scan and digitally file. We didn't have this many meetings today, did we? I just did a stack like this… Most of these need Kuroo’s signature, they shouldn't be on my desk.

Raising your head you shifted your gaze, letting your eyes land on him. He’s seated only ten feet in front of you behind his desk but today it seems like an entire mile. Did he always look that good going through his messages?

While gathering the papers that were wrongfully in your pile and saying a quick prayer to anyone out there, you walked over to sit in one of the matching seats opposite him. Placing the folder down softly to not mess up the flow of his work. He instinctively moves his elbow away to make room for the file and side-eyes it momentarily.

“Just give me two minutes here and I’m all yours sugar,” he says with a quick smile in your direction.

Humming your response and relaxing into the chair you take the time to admire his features. The messy but somehow put together hair that, according to his long-term clients and friends, has been that way since childhood. The sharp features of his cheeks and jaw, his pink lips permanently resting in his signature smirk that can mean an infinite number of things as you’ve come to find out. A muscular neck that is far too appealing for your taste, broad shoulders leading to strong arms, and an equally muscular chest. It’s no doubt that he is built like a god under that dress shirt, it fits him so perfectly it's almost offensive.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts of the man in front of you that you don't even notice how he moves his body, giving all his attention to you.

“Stare any longer sweet girl and you're gonna start drooling all over that cute outfit of yours.” His deep chuckle vibrates through you, definitely causing something to happen deep in the pit of your stomach. Your body was so hot and your throat was so damn dry from the way he was looking back at you. Is he undressing me with his eyes? Fuck! I’m one to talk, I’m doing the same thing.

“Uh it looks like some papers of yours got in my pile, if you can sign them, I’ll finish scanning and get out of your hair.” 

You sat up to hand him a pen then rest your palms against the desk. Those pieces of paper are the only thing separating the two of you and it helps you keep a grasp on reality for the time being.

He toyed with the edges of the folder, lifting just the corner, not even bothering to read over the contents. “Yeah, I put them there thinking it would keep you in the office just a bit longer but you caught on to my plan faster than I thought.” He met your gaze with a semi defeated smile.

“You thought I wouldn't notice at all? Kuroo, I thought you were supposed to be the mega genius here because I had just filed all of those this morning.” A sudden boost of confidence ran through your body and your hands found their way to the folder and started mimicking his previous action that, hopefully, would drive him just as crazy as it did you. Your cold fingers delicately traced above his watch then to his forearms, stopping right where he cuffed his sleeves. A small hiss escaped him through his teeth followed by an airy laugh.

“Call it an experiment.” You couldn't help but giggle at his response.

He suddenly moved back, completely reclining and relaxing in his chair. He went to loosen up the tie around his neck and even went as far as to open two buttons on the restricting shirt. Cheeky bastard.

Kuroo cleared his throat. Resting his elbow against the arm of his chair, chin resting in the palm of his hand. “I bet I can tell what you're thinking right now, shortcake,” he continued to roll his chair back slightly.

Without giving a second thought you moved around to his side of the desk, sitting and leaning on the end farthest from him. You conjured up the best comeback your normally shy and reserved self would never think of, but right now, it's war.

“Oya oya? Tell me, boss, what am I thinking right now?” you finally turned your gaze towards him, pulling off the most convincing innocent eyes you had.

He stood up from his seat, taking the slowest steps toward you and stood right beside your small body. His large hands are dangerously close to the edge of your skirt. If he could feel how hard your heart was beating in your chest you’d be done for. 

That contagious laughter of his booming throughout the room once more. He’ll never admit it but your teasing words sound a lot like him.

“Well if the way you're clenching the hell out of your thighs right now isn't the biggest sign.” His calloused fingers finally make contact with the exposed skin on your legs and slowly rise to trace the curves of your body. Finding a place to rest on your jaw with his thumb gripping your chin forcing you to look directly at him. “I’d say you're thinking of all the different ways I could make you cum on my desk,” his thumb began to slowly trace your lower lip.

You were barely aware of the small moan you let out while fluttering your eyes closed. “Let's say you're right Kuroo,” you nearly choked on the lack of saliva in your throat. “What else am I thinking?” your response barely above a pathetic whimper.

He let out a happy sigh as he placed his thumb between your lips, pressing slightly to signal you to open up. That sigh quickly turned into a small moan when you let your tongue slip from your mouth and wrapped your lips around the digit. Years of hard work and skill evident in the sensation of his thumb pressing against your tongue.

“You’re probably thinking about my cock filling every inch of your tight little pussy,” he moved to stand between your legs, his other hand finding residence on your hip and squeezing the clothed flesh possessively. “Or maybe you’re thinking you might just have the upper hand here because you caught on to my little trick,” he began to mess with the hook and zipper on the side of your skirt. Lowering the piece of flimsy metal agonizingly slow. 

“If that’s the case then you're seriously mistaken sweetheart also when it's just us, call me Tetsuro,” he whispered his name in your ear and if you weren't trying to match his teasing energy, you would’ve made the first move but the build-up was so much better.

He finally let go of the zipper on your skirt and began to pull it slowly down your thighs, all while maintaining eye contact. He slowly removed his finger from your mouth and trailed any lingering saliva along your bottom lip and down your jaw before his hand found comfort around your neck, offering the softest squeeze, eliciting yet another breathy moan from your lips. If only you knew how much those sounds of yours were causing him to short circuit.

“Tetsuro. If there’s anything I know very well, it's my place in this office.” You kept steady eye contact while attempting to squeeze your thighs together. 

Kuroo noticed your struggles and continued to strip the skirt from your body. Your lower half was beginning to burn with anticipation. His long fingers then traced the outline of your panties, if he looked any closer he would see the little wet spot forming right at your entrance. He lightly pulled on the thin material and snapped it back against your body, a small chuckle rising from deep in his chest because of how cute and responsive you are to his actions.

“And where is that exactly?” He can't help but tease you, even though his cock is absolutely suffocating, he still wants to make sure you know who’s in charge. 

“I'm an employee on your payroll, aren't I?” your voice was so soft, focusing more on steadying your breathing. He began to run the back of his hand along your hip and grazed his knuckles against the area that you ache for him the most, a throaty sigh escapes you and some of that newfound confidence as well. Where the hell did she come from?

“It only makes sense that my position is under you.” Kuroo is slightly surprised by your response but he can tell that you’ve had enough of his teasing just like he’s had enough of having to come up with new ways to fluster you. Now it seems that all his prayers are being answered, he finally has you to himself all alone in the office, and there’s only one thing on his mind after hearing the words slip from your lips. “That’s definitely the right answer, but I hope you don’t mind if I spend some time on you first?”

His fingers were now pulling the fabric of your panties down and off your body, he never breaks eye contact, rubbing his hands all over your legs and occasionally squeezing your soft skin. He finally returned to eye level and placed both hands on your cheeks, bringing you in for a hot and desperate kiss. He managed to push you further onto the desk so you can rest comfortably, the cold sensation of the wood on your bare skin forced a tiny gasp to escape. 

Kuroo began to play with the buttons of your blouse, pulling on the material. By the time he gets to the last button, you’re halfway done removing his, finally seeing the strong body underneath it all. Hot. Once he had you completely undressed he took a single step back. Biting his lip and admiring your body.

“You’re so god damn sexy.” He came back to you, hot mouth leaving kisses all over your neck and chest. He spent some time on each of your breasts, sucking and biting on your sensitive nipples, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. His hands hooked under your knees and spread your legs. You're practically dripping onto his desk by now and can’t help but grind your hips against nothing, desperate for some sort of relief. 

“Someone's a little needy, huh?” his breath was hot against your stomach and fingers digging into the meat of your thigh. Once he got on his knees in front of you, his fingers found their way to your throbbing center. Slowly parting your folds and massaging your sensitive hole with perfect pressure. “Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ wet too,” with his other hand he used his thumb to play with your clit. You threw your head back, letting out a soft moan as you made contact with the desk below.

Kuroo wasted no time putting your legs over his shoulders, leaving wet kisses along your thighs and placing several on your hips. He finally placed a kiss on your clit, causing you to yelp and buck your hips against his face. “You taste better than I imagined baby girl,” he licked a stripe through your folds, then sucked on your clit softly. “Mmm it feels so good!” you’re a moaning, whimpering mess already. Kuroo has to use his hands to keep you still but he’s humming happily while lapping up all you have to offer him and you can't help but shake. “Am I making you feel good, pretty girl? Your cute little pussy is so sensitive huh?” his tongue was replaced with one of his fingers gathering up your slick and slowly entering you.

“Yes yes fuck I love it. I want your cock. Please.” you looked at him through lidded eyes sucking your bottom lip harshly in between your teeth. He can't help but smile at how cute you look begging for him. “Relax baby girl, we’ll both get what we want but I gotta work you up a bit more.” He added another finger curling them a little to find your sweet spot, while sucking on your clit. He knew he found it when you squeezed your thighs around him and called out his name. Your walls twitching around his fingers, reaching your first climax of the day. 

He pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, sucking off every bit of your juices, moaning in sheer delight. Another kiss was placed on your clit before he began a trail of them to your neck and jaw, teeth sinking into your skin. One of his hands caressed your cheek as he kissed you on the lips, your taste and his hot breath sending another wave of arousal through you and you moan into his mouth. He pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. “Wanna make you cum with my tongue one more time okay sweetheart?”

You wanted to whine and throw a fit but his mouth was magical and you weren't one to complain. With a small ‘okay’ and another kiss on the lips he made his way to your pussy once more, already swollen and ridiculously sensitive. He began with the same rhythm as before, soft groans of satisfaction driving you wild. The grinding of your hips against his face only became more violent when he added his long fingers. Finding that same spot as earlier. 

“F-fuck oh fuck I’m gonna cum!” you arched your back off the desk and brought a hand to your chest massaging squeezing your nipples. The only thing you hear before your orgasm rips through you is the loud squelching of fingers inside your pussy and his moans of praise. When you open your eyes and finally come back to earth, you see Kuroos face, hand and wrist covered in your juices. “I haven't even fucked you yet and you squirted just like that? You're gonna be the death of me Y/n.” 

You giggled a little, hiding your face in embarrassment, body still trembling from the intense orgasm. Of course that smart mouth of his is sinfully skilled. He moved your hands out of the way, intertwining his with yours, lifting you and pulling you into another kiss. 

You let go of his hands running yours along his toned chest, leaving small scratches, quickly removing his belt and slacks. You squeal at how big he looks in his boxers, his cock begging to be free. Pulling the waistband down and letting it drop to his feet, you moan at the sight. A small bead of precum forming at the tip, now an angry red from being neglected for so long. “I wanna make you feel good too Tetsu.” 

Before you can drop to your knees for him he puts his hands on your hips, rubbing soothing circles. “Next time gorgeous, I wanna feel you right now.” he lifted you off the ground, legs wrapping around his waist and lips meeting in a sloppy mess of teeth and tongue. One of his hands made their way to your ass, squeezing softly before landing a smack. You moaned in response and ground your hips against his throbbing member, the tip creating glorious friction against your folds. He finally placed you back on the desk then fisted his cock a few times, running the tip against your folds and teasing your entrance.

“Want you inside me now Tetsuro. Please.” your chest was heaving in desperation and he loved that he made you like this. “Okay sweet girl. If it’s too much let me know.” You gave him a small nod and he kissed you while letting himself slip inside your warm walls. You were already so wet from before but he was so long and thick that the intrusion was slightly painful. 

“Holy shit! you’re so damn tight.” he says through gritted teeth. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, fingers tugging softly on his hair when you feel him bottom out inside you. He lets out a few puffs of air because it's taking all his willpower not to cum with the way your pussy is gripping onto him right now. You let out a few whimpers and he checks your face for any signs of discomfort before retracting his hips and thrusting into you. You make eye contact with him, he’s absolutely mesmerizing with that lusty look in his eye and a small layer of sweat on his forehead. 

“S-so big Tetsu. It feels so good.” you squeeze your legs wrapped around his waist, bringing him closer to you and he groans in response. He begins to thrust into you slowly, still trying to keep his cool but finding that sweet spot inside you every time. “Oh you're gonna make me cum with the way you are clampin’ down on my cock like that sweet thing.” he shifts the angle of his thrusts and cages your head between his arms. His large upper body casting a shadow over you that makes you shiver. You can see the way the muscles on his forearms and biceps are flexing with every thrust. How he’s looking down at where you two are connected in pure fascination, tugging his lip between his teeth.

Using his arms to push off the desk, he tugs your hips to the edge and keeps his fingers embedded in the soft flesh, meeting each of his thrusts. You lift yourself as well, resting on your elbows and watching him. You notice a small bump on your belly each time his hips meet yours and it's enough to have you roll your eyes back. Holy fuck now that’s different. Kuroo noticed your surprise and pressed a hand against your tummy, making you feel him even deeper if possible. 

“I’m right there baby girl. Can you feel it?” You feel as though you're being split open but it hurts so good. His stare and dominating aura so sinful and addictive, you know you're in trouble. “Yes it feels so good. I love your cock.” He feels you fluttering around him and picks up his pace. The sharp sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the office along with his animalistic growls. 

“Is that right. You gonna cum on this cock, like a good girl?” his thumb found your clit, working small circles. “Make a mess all over my desk? Let me cum inside this tight pussy?” his thrusts were reaching deep, that bulge in your tummy only looking bigger now. You tried meeting his thrusts halfway, your hand gripped his wrist and you neared another orgasm. “Y-yeah, oh fuck. please. I wanna cum so bad. wanna make you feel good too, sir.” 

At the last word you said he thrusted into you once more. your walls fluttering around him bringing his release as well, he hunched over with a groan and found your lips as he spilled his seed inside you. The warmth filling you up and making you feel nothing but bliss. Your ankles locked around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, keeping him buried inside you while you caught your breath’s. 

He pulled away first, watching as his cock slipped from your tight hole, both of you letting out a sharp breath from the sensitivity. His cum followed right after, dripping down onto his desk. The sight of your clenching pussy and the mess was enough to get him hard again. He wants as much as you’re willing to give him. Lifting your upper body he pulls you in for another kiss, this one a bit sweeter. 

You pulled away and began kissing his jaw. “I want more.” You said looking up at him with bright eyes. Your makeup is messy but you still look delicious as ever. 

He gave you a playful grin and a peck on the lips. “You read my mind gorgeous.” 

He spun you around and bent you over the desk, pressing your body into the wood but not enough to hurt. His fingers slowly ran down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You turn your head slightly so you can see him, right now he looks intimidating as ever. Large muscular body towering over you, one hand gripping your ass and the other teasing the head of his cock along your folds. He can see how your dripping hole is clenching around nothing, your frame trembling from previous orgasms. He's so damn overjoyed that he slips right inside you, not wanting to waste another second outside of your tight pussy. 

The stretch that he provided was nothing you've felt before, he was definitely the biggest you’ve been with. You felt every ridge and vein, every twitch, you still feel him in your stomach. Nothing beat how warm he is though, flooding every nerve with heat and electricity. 

He set a brutal pace, balls slapping against your clit each time, making you cry out and moan incoherent versions of his name. His left hand gripped your thigh and hitched your leg on the desk, the shift in position causing him to drag the tip of his cock perfectly against your g-spot. “Right there Tetsuro, feels so fucking good.” you ached your back in ecstasy. 

The hand he had hooked under your knee creeped up your thigh and rested on your hip. He used the other to raise you off the desk and wrap around you. His warm hard chest pressing into your back and his large, rough palms massaged your tits. You can feel his warm breath on your ear and you shiver when he groans. The deep rumble of his chest crashing into you like a wave. 

Hearing his moans right in your ear was like heaven, the feeling of his cock twitching inside tells you he's close. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum so fuckin’ hard. Your little cunt’s squeezing me so fuckin’ tight. You gonna be a good girl and let me cum inside again?” his rough pounding turned into slow, deep strokes. Slamming into your sweet spot with pin-point accuracy.

“Please. Feels so good and I want your cum. Want it in me so bad.” his hand moved to your jaw turning your head, squishing your cheeks and leaving a sloppy kiss against your lips. You brought your arm up, grabbing his face, pulling him closer. You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth and he growled in response, slow thrusts gaining some more speed.

The hand he had on your hip made its way in front of you, fingers trailing softly against your swollen clit. Tears were pricking the corners of your eyes from overstimulation but you loved every second of it. “I want you to milk my cock, take all your filling like a good little shortcake and make a mess on this desk. Can you do that for me?” you only nod and moan your answer.

The intense eye contact between the two of you, mixed with his hard thrusts and rough fingers, make that tingling feeling in your core seem like the first one all over again. Your head falls back against his chest as your body locks up and shakes uncontrollably, the tight fluttering of your walls brought his release as well. 

You can feel his warm load inside as he keeps fucking into you, allowing you both to ride out the intense wave of pleasure. All while massaging your clit, only bringing on another orgasm, making you squirt once more on his hand and desk. Feeling it drip down your legs, surely his too. 

Once the rush of euphoria passed, you both fell forward, his cock still inside you as you both caught your breath. You were still quivering with aftershocks of pleasure when he slipped out of you, a mixture of both of your cum spilling onto the floor and down your thighs. 

He stumbled back onto his chair and took a deep breath. Hypnotized by the way you’re still spread out for him to see, the beautiful sight of your plump ass becoming something he wants all the time. You finally sit up slowly turning to lean against the desk, legs feeling like noodles. Both of you catching the other staring and letting out a fit of laughter. He reached for your hand and pulled you down on the chair with him to relax, wrapping his strong arms around you. 

“So, I was thinking, maybe I should give you a promotion.” he kissed the top of your head and you pinched his nipple teasingly. “Stop fucking around Tetsu.” he smirked and gave you a knowing smirk. 

“We just did, sweet heart.” you rolled your eyes and nuzzled into his neck. 

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

After resting for a while the two of you got cleaned up and dressed, tidying up the office so it didn't look like two people just fucked in it. Once you were done you both stood and looked out the window of his office, watching the sun disappear and the stars start to shine. He made a sound like he just remembered something. 

“Do you wanna go out to get something to eat?” he looks at you while putting his coat on.

“I’d love to, I’m starving,” you grabbed your purse and put on your coat as well. “Oh, uh what time is it?” you ask him. 

He lifted the sleeve of his jacket, looking at his watch and raising a brow. “That’s weird. My watch is stuck at 4:45.” you look at him in confusion. 

A sudden burst of wheezing laughter echoes through the walls and you’re still wondering what’s so funny. He turns to you and looks at your face, melting at how cute and innocent you looked. 

“I think you ruined my watch, Y/n.” he brings a hand up to your face moving a piece of hair that was out of place. You can't help but blush at his words, instantly turning away from him and opening the doors to his office.

“Well we’re even now because you ruined any other man for me.” You walked ahead of him in annoyance but he knows it won't last long.

He’ll have you screaming his name again in his bed in no time. 

I wonder if he was joking about that promotion though…

———————————————————————

✨stay sexy my friends✨

Taglist: @bobabybo

a/n: if you made it this far... yooo... im so sorry you had to read this. it didn’t tickle the brain the way i wanted and i trashed it like ten times only to go back with what i originally started with but if you liked it and you feel a lil sum ;) lmk i would love feedback or what I could’ve done better. i don’t know what I want to do with this blog just yet but for now its just my thirsts and writings. i reply and like on @keigohoes im just stupid lol.

[crybabytoy59]

My Own choice in life...pt1.

As I walked up there street I was sure everyone knew why I was there !!!

I swear I could see curtains twitching !!! ...

Get a grip I told myself...!

Calm down your panicking !...

But not without good cause I was about to give up everything...

Something that I was terrified about, but had truly craved my entire life........

My inner sadness had finally taken hold as In grew older realising we None of us live forever we Do have an end date...

I had realised most of us live as if Death is something that happens to Other people....

But sadly it’s not....

That’s when I realised I truly wanted my little life....

That was when I met them a couple openly willing to let be live as my true self.....

2.

As I got to the Door  I took another Deep Breath feeling lightheaded Everything around me seemed to go quite the birds even the wind...

I rang the bell.....

The door Opened and Master Daddy greeted me with a huge smile ..

Hello “little one” Come in please along the corridor and second door on the right Mistress Mummy is waiting for you Cutie....

As I walked into there kitchen Mistress Mummy was standing waiting for me at a high stool in the middle of the floor...

She hugged me tightly for quite sometime....

She spoke to me....

Hello sweetheart....It’s Ok Mistress Mummy is here now....come sit on this sool for us  little one...

Take your Shorts down first though Babyslave....

They both watch me as I did this, revealing the skirt on my pink maids dress with the frilly bloomers under the dress...

I then climbed backwards onto the high stool my legs now dangling I feel like a naughty child infront of them both....

Mistress Mummy was first to come over pulling my Shorts off then my shoes and socks...

”My my Master Daddy look at this Babyslave has shaved her leggies for us !....have you been a good Babyslave and removed All hair ?”

Wess Mistress Mummy...

She then put white tights on me with strawberries up them and pink bows at the top to jut under my bloomers, these had rubber cuffs inside to hold them in place...

She pulled my leg to the side of the stool leg “Put you feeties in over the bar Babyslave !..Clever Baby and the other I will help you”

Am now not able to move my legs due to the angle my legs are without help or falling face first....

Now Master Daddy walks to a shelf he comes back with a ball Gag with face/head harnessing And white mittens with cartoon characters on them at the end of each is a heavy D-ring....

“Open Wide Babyslave !”

As I do he gags me from behind....strapping the harnessing tightly this is followed by him tugging on the mittens ....

I can tell he is quite strong !....

He is around 6’6” bald with huge shoulders from having a coal business for years so he had to be lifting heavy weights daily, he also had the biggest hands I have ever seen on a man !

Mistress Mummy was no regular girl she was also 6’2 and quite heavy built but not over weight, she had large breasts and big hips with a very full sexy bottom, she had red hair very long down her back in a poly tail.

3.

Mistress Mummy Spoke to me....

“Now Crybaby we have a couple of things to get ready for you so sit quietly...

When we come back We will take you to the play room....

There you have no safe word & no limits other than permanent harm...

Nod if you understand as once we start there will be No turning back we Will turn you into a complete Babyslave !

Over time you Will be fully regressed to an infant !

This Will happen to you make No mistake !..

An object for our amusement and pleasure...So yes or no Babyslave ??

I nod to them both...

Clever girlie Babyslave then sit quietly....until we return...

But remove your jacket please”

As I do Master Daddy puts a posture collar on me cuffing the mittens to it up my back !

As they both smiled at the pink pvc maids outfit they had requested me have on the day of arriving to start my new “little life...”

4.

All my other sissy clothes wardrobe & Toys had been packed up and sent to them

From my home .....

Then everything I owned sold off....

The money was in a trust fund that a good friend had the only access to...

She knew what was about to happen with my new Dominant parents...

So would be responsible for working with them for the first year after that Mummy and Daddy would get my trust....

Sam had already given them fifteen thousand pounds for my Nursery to be set up and equipment some very special bought for my mental and physical regression training .....

I seemed to be sitting for ages before they came back ?..

I gasped as they both walked in ...Master Daddy was dressed in a black leather suit with large black boots and a black rubber mask only his eyes were showing as he had on a blue face mask the type worn during that pants pandemic..!

He looked like a giant due to the thick soles on the boots !

Mistress Mummy was in a red rubber suit also with a hood on only her eyes showing as she too had on the same mask, her boots were right up to her knees they were black...

5.

Master Daddy spoke first....

“Right little one this is it ....

Say good by to your Big please...

I took a Deep Breath.....Good bye “Stephen”...

“Clever Crybaby...

As from now on you will be only 18month’s old !!.....

Our Baby Girlie...

In Nappies 24/7 ...You will use them fully never allowed the use of the toilet....

If your behaviour is good in this first year at New year we will consider Potty training for Serving on Very Special occasion’s...

You Will act as a Baby at All times...

No matter who comes to our home or where we take you...

You are Now our Baby & we your Strict Parents !!”

Mistress Mummy then spoke.....

“Babyslave we are very fair so be Obedient and you will be fine if not that is a different matter..You will find we are true sadists we absolutely will take pleasure from correcting Any disobedience !!...

Now to your baby talk....

Ga’Ga is for Yes goo’goo is for no ..

If you need a drink that is Ugg’ugg, If you wet your nappy you will say nothing !!

You will simply look at your nappy and cup both handies over the front until one of see’s you have wet yourself !!

If you go soil yourself  you will also look down at your nappy...

But cup both handies over your rear....

Is that clear Madam ?”

Ga’Ga !

“Clever girlie Crybaby let’s get you to the Quiet Room...

Master Daddy!”

He lifted me clean off the stool ! Putting me over his large hips like a small child,...

I instantly snuggled into his neck....

He spoke softly to me....

”Clever girlie Crybaby that’s the way you cuddle in and remember Everything Mistress Mummy has told you....

If not you will be Very Sorry Madam!”

He carried me to a room inside was dark it didn’t look like a Nursery ?

As he walked to the Center of this room a light came on to a Huge black wooden chair with all manner of leather strappings ! It had a steel bucket under it and a large metal frame that the head went into !...

I started whimpering on seeing it !....

But he simply told me to Hush Down Everything was going to be fine if I had listened to Mistress Mummy Very carefully ?

I was puzzled you his words as I watched Mistress Mummy Open the cage part to take my head !

Master Daddy put me into the chair then removed the ball gagging..

“Heddle backwards into the cage Crybaby !!...

Clever girlie”

Mistress Mummy shut the front over my face I could now not move my headie !!

They started pulling all The strapping on the Chair over me...

They were every 4” over my entire body !!!!...

As they stepped back I was completely immobile !!

And very scared this was Not a Nursery ??...

It looked to me like an electric chair but with a head cage !...

They said nothing not a singlword just disappointing imto the darkness ?

It was Then I realised the led lights were in a circle pointing inwards so when I looked out I could see nothing only light with black beyond.....

Master Daddy was the first to appear back with things over his arms he set them in my lap, again without a word, as Mistress Mummy also came back but she was pushing what looked like a large hoover ?

With all manner of tubing from it ?......

Then I noticed two things first the “Hoover” had a glass tube down its length on one side on the other was a corrugated hose with a gas mask attached to it !

I started whimpering again...But Master Daddy simply told me the same thing..

“Hush Hush now Crybaby...it’s all going to be fine If I had listened to Mistress Mummy Carefully ?”

Why had he said that a second time ? Had I missed something....

My brain desperately searching my memory for her exact words....

O’no panic was setting in I couldn’t remember A word she had said !...

Master Daddy looked at me “Aawww Cutie your shaking are you scared ? I went to say Ga’Ga but he pushed a mouth gag into my mouth it was ridged top and bottom to go over my teeth a Hollow was there for my tongue and the roof of my mouth the rubber pushed up tightly !

He fed the rubber jaw mask around inside the cage fastening it at the rear tightly.

Next came a thick tube the bore was around 10mm internally, this he pushed had to a click on the mask he the cable tied the tube up the side of the head cage...Next item was a tube of glue ?

Mistress Mummy was done setting up the machine so spoke to me..

“Clever girlie Crybaby that’s very good so far...Close your eyes cutie !”

As I did I felt wetness on my eyelids, they my eye was opened fully ? Then the other eye...My eyes started watering and seemed to be stinging slightly?...

Master Daddy took his fingers away but my eyes stayed open !

OMG he had glued my eyes open !...

Goo’goo ...

Again he told me to Hush I was fine If I had listed to Mistress Mummy !

The very first tear fell....

Mistress Mummy was first to notice..

“Look Master Daddy our Baby is shedding her first tears !!!”

She took a picture with her phone then stood writing something...

Hello everyone Our Crybaby is shedding her Crybaby’s first tears ! We will be live on our home page please feel free to follow Crybaby’s progress through her first day 💝

She hit send....As she did there was a Flash !...

Master Daddy lifted the gas mask from the hook, pushing the mouth tube through the wee hole for it in the mask.then.....

Hooked up the tube to the machine, he pushed hard onto my face to hissing as the mask clung to my face ! He did up the head strapping tightly...

“That’s our Clever girlie all ready to go Mummy !”

I watched as she pushed on of the buttons on the machine and a green light came on...

A low hum started as I watched green fluid coming up the tube !

Master Daddy told me to be a Clever Baby Girlie and Swallow nice and steadily !

The fluid tasted minty and was actually quite pleasant to swallow as it had a slightly sweet taste....?

Mistress Mummy mocked...”Aawww bless Master Daddy look she thought it was going to be nasty...Baby Girlie is that nice ?”

Ga’Ga...

“Clever girlie your so good listening to Mistress Mummy....it’s ok to cry princess mummy and daddy know you desperately want to cry for us ....So as long as you listened to Mummy Properly.....this is not a Punishment Crybaby this is just to let you be a cute Baby Girlie without worrying about your silly Big holding you back as we both know Your nasty Big will want to push little Crybaby to one side but Mummy and Daddy will make sure when that happens Princess we Will have him leave you so Baby can live a full life ...then Our Baby Girlie can live a Very full “Little life”...Now we are going to let Baby Hydrate as we fit a few things to you Princess”

Master Daddy had a small plastic bag he was pealing open for her....she lifted it out in her blue rubber gloved hand ...

It was a 3” long  cannula needle ! Pulling my dress down slightly she wiped my skin with an alcohol wipe then pushed the needle Deep into my chest muscle ! I squealed as she did...she smiled down at me..

Then simply taped it to my body...

“Hush Hush now Crybaby your fine just be a Clever girlie we want you to look like a cute Princess ”.....Master Daddy Told me...

He gave her a second needle ! This to was pushed Deep into my other chest muscle..

More tubing came for the machine  this single clear tube split in two with 6” orange rubber ends with small cuffs and it was already primed, a small “pop...pop !”

And they were both connected.....

Mistress Mummy lent into my face this is to have our baby look more like a girlie....until she has her hormone treatment Then she can be a real Baby Girlie for Mummy and Daddy !!”

Master Daddy lent in too smiling....

”You do want to be our Baby Girlie Crybaby ?....(Ga’Ga)

Clever Baby But nice and loud so everyone can hear you Crybaby !!!”

GA’GA....

He patted my thigh.....”Clever girlie Crybaby Say it Again !....(GA’GA !)...Well done Clever girlie are you wetting your nappy 😂..Say it Again Baby !”

GA’GA...

“Clever girlie keep repeating yourself until Mummy or Daddy Tills you to Stop Ok Princess ?”

GA’GA !!....Gulp....GA’GA !!....Gulp...GA’GA !!...Gulp...GA’GA !!.......

Mistress Mummy put head phones on her headie through the bars !

They were pink and covered in cartoon characters...they burst into life as Baby heard a recording.....

It was a soft spoken girl, telling Crybaby...she was going to take me for a walk down some stairs....to a lovely garden... in the Center of the garden was a special Chair...this Chair was her chair....come on baby take the first of the Ten steps with Nanny...Ten....

Master Daddy set the pink lamp down shining into Crybabys eyes, small spirals appeared on Baby’s face as she sat still swallowing the green fluid repeating her mantra...GA’GA !....Gulp...GA’GA !....

“Can you smell the lovely scent from Your garden...the soft breeze in your hair..Clever Baby next step with Nanny Nine...can you see all the lovely flowers Baby they were All planted with love just for you ?”

Mistress Mummy put the small fan on under the lamp with the wet cloth in its dish , this aroma would blow lightly into Crybabys face...she could tell Babyslave was gone all Ready his eyes were kept open but the glazed look told her sissy Babyslave was going down the steps with Nanny...

Next week after listening to all 24 of the tapes she would let him meet her sister “Nanny”...But the best part ... Sissy was still repeating Ga’Ga Ga’Ga...As her tummy filled with green fluid making It’s was to the mass below !

They had Babyslave on a special diet for seven days, then had sissy take strong pain meds this made Babyslave constipated..Babyslave had not passed a single movement for four days now !!!!!

But as she smiled to Master Daddy....That was all about to change the green fluid would see to that over and over....

Fuck this was such a rush...time to leave Babyslave for a bit as she needed Daddys attention to a pressing matter her sexual frustration !!!!

“Can you smell them as the breeze is passing through your cute curls Baby?....that’s it next step with Nanny...Eight !...can you see your special Chair now Baby look how cute it is see the lovely Pink padding Baby made with love just for You....Next step with Nanny Baby Girlie...Seven....

Mistress Mummy and Master Daddy left the room as the feed and chest fluid would take an hour.....

45mins later they both walkedback in smiling at each other, she kissed her husband.....time to get on with Babyslave’s Transition Darling...You get the Butterfly Gag & I will her Ballet boots !!!

She set them down the turned the volume slowly down....lifting the headphones off Babyslave...

“Hello Princess How’s your wee tummy doing is it Very full hhmmm?”

“Ga’Ga “

She was kneeling down rubbing the now swollen tummy !...

“What a Clever girlie Crybaby So Mummy and Daddy have a reward for our Baby Girlie !!”

Master Daddy was taking my tubbing away all of it but didn’t remove the canula’s....After that he removed the feeling gag...as he did he spoke to me...

“Clever girlie Crybaby that’s an Ever so Obedient Baby who can stop Her... GA’GA ‘s now.”

I fell silent but a funny thing had happened ....

I felt truly Sad for some strange reason ??...

“Open Wide Princess !....In we go !”

Master Daddy was pushing a butterfly gag into my mouth I had seen them in videos but never had on on me....

My tears were still falling but ever so gently..

He fed a leather face mask up the tube pulling it past the bars to the back where he zipped it down this made me Whimper aloud.....

As this was the second time I had felt how strong my Master Daddy was !

As it felt like the soft kid leather was too small for my head ...

But I was wrong ! ...Master Daddy got the zippering All the way down my head and neck !...he stood back in front of me..plugging the bulb pump to the tube from the butterfly gag, closing the small valve....

He started pumping with one Big Hand, as the other finger and thumb pinched over my face between each of my Cheeks ?

Slowly my mouth opened tightly against the leather hood till he felt the right pressure from My cheeks telling him It was going backwards into my throat !

But my bulging eyes would have told Him that, also the fact I was gagging slightly...as he spoke......

“Hush Hush Princess your fine concentrate on your Breathing slow it down girlie......that’s it.....aAs our girlie Really is Not wanting to be sick right now !.....Do we Crybaby?”

Goo’goo

“Clever girlie Princess...indeed we don’t !....so settle down everything is fine, Mistress Mummy is going to put some nice booties on you but Master Daddy will stay here and keep you company Princess”

I still had the Sad feeling but could Not work out why....?

I felt my ankle be unfastened and my leg pulled out at 45deg onto something hard...as it was Master Daddy Spoke to me as if reading my mind !!!

“Crybaby what’s the matter Princess?...are You a sad Sad Crybaby?”....

GA’GA...!

“There There Princess Hush...! So that’s what’s wrong Cutie...is it Crybaby?”

He was looking right into my tear stained Eyes !

Ok you can say it Princess nice and loud so everyone can here what a Clever girlie Crybaby IS !!!!”

GA’GA !!....GA’GA !!....GA’GA !!....GA’GA !!....

I started crying again but not from sadness from pure joy at being Allowed to say GA’GA’s !!!!!!!.....

What was happening to me ??......Why did I want to say GA’GA’s so very badly ???...

I felt tugging then my foot went unnaturally flat at the front as the Ballet boot slipped all the way home, then Mistress Mummy zipped it up its length cuffing my ankle back to the “Chair”....

My other foot was undone....then the boot pushed on...

Master Daddy lifted the headphones putting them over the black kid leather hood !

The recording started again....

“Clever Baby Three....Can you feel how warm the breeze is Princess as we get closer to your Chair...can you smell all the lovely flowers...Can you see the soft pink padding on you special Chair...Your going to Feel wonderful sitting in such a lovingly made Chair Baby....

Next step with Nanny...Two....

That’s a Clever Princess only one last step then Baby can get to feel the soft grass planted with love just for you, under her Baby Princess feeties....

Your so close to the special Chair now Baby...

Here we go last step with Nanny...One !....

Clever Baby Princess ! There we go can you feel the soft grass on your feeties...

The smell of the lovely flowers......

The warm breeze blowing in your lovely hair....

As you walk to your special Chair built with love...

Hold Nannies handie Baby Princess....

Look at the lovely Pink padding....

It’s There just waiting for You Baby Princess your Special Chair ...

The Special  Chair is only for you Baby Princess !.....nobody else...

Ok when Nanny claps her hands Baby Princess will sit for Her Mummy and Daddy....and relax fully.....

That’s a Clever Baby Princess “SIT”  down very slowly....

Listening to Nanny’s voice....

Just let go and “SIT” for Nanny...feel the soft padding rising up to meet Baby Princess As she “SIT’S” in her Special Chair....

Clever girlie Baby Princess....That’s it relax Nanny has you....

Take Big Deep Breaths for Nanny...when Nanny claps Baby Princess will let go and “SIT” all the way down for Nanny....

.”SIT”.......Deep Breaths Baby Princess...Clever girlie...

“SIT RIGHT DOWN”.....

In Your lovely Padded Special Chair Princess Make Mummy and Daddy proud of You !!!!!.....

They were both watching the spectacle unfold as Babyslave sat chanting..

GA’GA !....grunt...GA’GA !!....grunt...GA’GA !!!....Grunt ....

Babyslave was filling her Nappy !! Over and over it came, as Babyslave’s face went Red with effort !

Grunting between chants...

GA’GA !!....GRUNT !....GA’GA !!.....GRUNT !!...pant !...GA’GA !...GRUNT !!!...Pant !..GA’GA !!....

Babyslave had taken the first step....of many yet to come...

But this ??.....

They both kissed they had Never seen anyone cave in this quickly !!!

They were right this sissy was Very Special.....

Master Daddy pumped the bulb one more time as Babyslave GAVE A HUGE GRUNT EMPTYING THE ENTIRE CONTENTS OF HER BOWELS !

Into the waiting Nappy in a Roar of pure liquid sound ...

Babyslave slumped in the Special Chair...

Crying like toddler...!!!!!.....

Mummy and Daddy ...cuddled there new Toy as Mistress Mummy took Babyslave’s nipples ...

“There There Hush Hush now Mummy and Daddy are so very very proud of You Princess Crybaby....Hush Hush....that’s the way...

Ok Baby Girlie one last thing then we will get you out and cleaned up then into a lovely soft Clean Princess Nappy....Ok?”

Ga’Ga.....

He was still in a groggy hypnotic state so they worked fast...

“Clever girlie Crybaby that’s good.....

Let’s show everyone what Your Special Chair is actually for Princess ...”

She was deflating the butterfly gag removing it from the mask ...

As it came out dripping with Babyslave’s saliva ...

She smiled at Crybaby...

Babyslave was puzzled why his mouth was still Open ?

Held by the rubber O-ring inside the mask Babyslave had not even noticed Master Daddy working it behind her teeth due to her hypnotic state ! As he had tugged the tightly fitting mask !!...

Master Daddy flipped the two side steps out from the chair, held the upright behind the head cage....

He pulled himself up to Babyslave’s face pushing into Babyslave’s mouth Deeply...

Mistress Mummy Spoke...

“Clever girlie Crybaby that’s it Show everyone what a Clever girlie You are in your Special Chair !”........

Master Daddy started a slow rythem back and forth, the head cage rattled it time to the rhythm of the assault on there New Toy....

Babyslave had No choice No option as her headie wouldn’t move her mouth couldn’t close her body could move....so what was left but submission....

Every time Master Daddy with drew to a grunt..Baby would run her sissy tounge around Daddy’s shaft..moaning like a bit in heat....Crying as she did....

Soon Babyslave would crave this room....

But especially “Her Special Chair !!!”.....

[stubbychaos]

Ori Kebiin and Saviin’ika

Chapter 8 of Saviin’ika

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5|Part 6|Part 7

Masterlist

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: Paz takes you to the covert after your long day, despite you not being accepted by everyone in the tribe yet. Though you are content to finally be away from a toxic environment, Paz wants his vengeance towards those who have hurt you.

Rating: M

Word Count: 13,000 (I kinda got carried away)

Warnings: Brief mentions of psychological abuse and manipulation, as well as the aftermath of the attempted sexual assault from last chapter. Again, there’s mentions of blood, but not nearly as graphic as the last chapter!

Translations will all be at the end since there’s so many this chapter. I separated the actual dialogue from the typical nicknames and such. The title, however, translates to “Big Blue and Little Violet” :)

You have no idea how you manage the strength to walk on your feet after the day you’ve had, but you think Paz’s hand firmly pressed to the small of your back gives you the motivation to be stronger.

Though the dread still lingers like a dark rain cloud over your frantic heart as Paz leads you to your home to grab a change of clothes, you’re certain that the Mandalorian would not let anything happen to you should your father be awake. His thumb moves in firm little circles against the thick material of his cape that’s shielding your body from any wandering eyes and even though you can’t get the memory of slaying the Trandoshan out of your mind, you feel slightly better now that your warrior had cleaned as much of the blood away from your skin as he possibly could.

Out of sight, but never out of mind, you resentfully realize as you slowly approach the worn down hut you’ve lived in for your entire life and find the thought of living anywhere else strange, but certainly not disheartening in the slightest. Paz gently urges you behind him as he leads you inside the building, his leather-clad fingers firmly wrapped around your wrist and you can’t help but to smile weakly at his diligence and insistence on keeping you safe from anymore danger.

Much to your relief, you hear your father’s snores from the other room, most likely blacked out on alcohol or his drug of choice and you hastily lead Paz into your tiny room, only letting go of his hand so you can sift through the wooden crate where you keep what little clothes and garments you own.

“Cyare,” Paz whispers the nickname, perhaps remembering that your abuser sleeps in the room down the hall; he makes sure to keep his voice down as he gathers some of your toiletries and carefully situates them in a small canvas bag, “Where we are going, it is deep underground--it is much colder--do you have anything warmer to wear?”

You blink and manage to find a large cable knit sweater that you haven’t worn in such a long time, along with a thicker pair of leggings and some clean undergarments; you freeze when the Mandalorian speaks again.

“And something to sleep in?”

Heat floods your cheeks and earlobes and you nervously move to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, growing even more embarrassed when you realize the strands are matted to your neck with blood, “Am I staying the night there?”

You find a thin-sleeved, satin night gown that falls a few inches above your knees and you slowly rise to turn and face Paz, noticing the tension in his shoulders as he stares at you through the safety of his visor. You’ve never once questioned his loyalty to the creed by asking what he looks like underneath the helmet, but you suddenly find yourself jealous that he is able to conceal his features upon feeling nervous or shy. He reaches out to gently stroke your jaw, helmet tilting to the side as you hold your clean clothes tightly to your chest; he is silent as he collects the fabric from your tight hold and places it in the canvas bag.

“You would not be turned away after the day you’ve had,” He reassures you, cupping his hand to the side of your neck, “I am hoping they will let you stay permanently once they meet you.”

Your heart swells and you nod a little, your heart pumping furiously in your chest at the thought of spending the night with him again, let alone the rest of your days.

“Thank you,” You fiddle nervously with your large sweater as he continues to stare at you, “I… I will change now.”

“Then I won’t look,” He hums, sounding slightly amused as he turns his back to you, “Unless you wish for me to see you, little nurse?”

An intense heat spreads throughout your face as you let his cape fall from your shoulders and you begin to remove your boots. You remember the way the Trandoshan’s grimy hands had found the hem of your dress and you drop your head in shame as you peel away your undergarments and replace them with fresh ones. You feel sick and ashamed that it had nearly gotten to the point where he had taken advantage of you and you want to tell Paz exactly what had happened, but the feeling of your attacker’s hands on your torso leaves you feeling raw and vulnerable.

You’re embarrassed.

“I fear you would not like what you would see.”

The Mandalorian’s helmet moves in a jolting gesture, though he makes sure not to completely turn his head towards you and your heart thrums frantically when you realize it must be out of respect for your own wishes. You’re hasty to cover your chest with a clean bralette and you feel as though your cheeks are on fire when you replace your shorts with fresh undergarments and thick leggings, all while keeping your eyes on the back of his helmet.

“You are beautiful, cyare,” Paz softly reminds you, his baritone as low and quiet as his modulator will allow him, “I don’t like seeing you bruised and hurt, but it does not take away from your beauty. I do not think I could go through all of your pain without any armor; it must be difficult to bare your scars for all to see.”

You think it to be the most heartfelt compliment he could give you--informing you that he believes your strength and endurance to be up to his standards--and you smile warmly at the back of his helmet.

“Okay,” You eventually murmur as you tug the large sweater over your head, the cozy fabric fitting you similarly to a short, loose dress, “I’m ready.”

The Mandalorian turns to face you just as you’re grabbing his cape that you had neatly placed on the foot of your bed; his helmet tilts to the side as he watches you hug the material close to your chest. Thinking he doesn’t need the warm fabric yet, you hold onto it tightly as you follow him out your room, tensing a little when you’re met with utter silence, rather than your father’s typical loud snores. Paz must notice it too, because you watch as his hand immediately moves to the blaster sheathed against his hip; your heart pounds wildly in your chest as the two of you make it up the two stairs leading out of the hut.

Before you even realize what’s going on, Paz immediately whips around and draws a blaster within a fraction of a second, carefully pushing you behind him; you’re confused, until you hear a familiar voice that you’re certain will forever haunt you, even if you never see him again.

“Where do you think you’re going, little one?” You tilt your head to the side so you can see your father staggering towards you and Paz, “You decide to fucking not show up to one of your shifts and thought I would be okay with it? Then you bring him here? After everything I told you? Are you really that fucking stupid or do I need to--?”

You snap before the Mandalorian does.

For the third time in the last twenty-four hours--you absolutely snap.

“I have had one of the longest, roughest days of my life, so don’t you dare make me feel bad for not showing up to work or bringing him here!” You step to the side and put yourself in front of Paz, though he still keeps his blaster pointed on the drunk man who poses no real threat to the warrior, “I have been working every day for you for the last decade and never once have you ever thanked me for the time I put in--for all that I have done for you and working for free! You never once thanked me for all the tears and blood I have shed for you at the expense of your own hands and I am exhausted.”

Your father--Maker, does he look stunned by your outburst--and you’re certain that if Paz wasn’t there, he would have struck you the moment you raised your voice, but his eyes widen and his mouth drops open as he regards you. You think of the Trandoshan and the bounty hunter and how both of them had caused you such rage, fear, and desperation and you suddenly find it easier to argue with your only living blood.

You don’t even notice the way Paz tenses behind you when your father staggers forward, nearly tripping over his own feet and you suddenly feel embarrassed for the kind of torment you have let this pathetic man inflict upon you. You’re shaking with the trauma from such a horrific day as you step a little closer to him, speaking through clenched teeth at the man who’s made your life a living hell for as long as you can remember.

After killing the Trandoshan, you think you’re not fazed by anything, let alone your father’s clumsy anger.

“You have put me through so much pain and so much agony--so much torture--Maker, do you have a heart at all? Do you even realize what you’ve done to me? How much you’ve scarred my body and my mind?!” You force yourself not to cry, thinking he doesn’t deserve a single tear from you when he’s stolen so many in your life, “I am supposed to be your daughter, not your slave, and I won’t let you treat me as such anymore!”

Your chest is heaving wildly as he simply stares at you in shock, probably not even aware you were capable of storing such hatred and fury in your tender heart.

"I have never hated anyone as much as I hate you," You seethe, speaking through clenched teeth as you watch the way your words sober him, his back straightening a little "I hope you feel a fraction of the same loneliness and pain you have made me feel after I leave this awful place; I hope it haunts you everyday until you finally die."

Your father’s eyes widen and you’re certain he is shocked at the courage you have somehow obtained within a single day, though it still does not stop him from continuing to berate you

“And what would you do when he grows tired of you?” He sneers, though you simply shake your head, remembering how your warrior had declared his love for you and you force yourself to remember the devotion in his deep baritone, “You think those monsters would actually take you in as one of their own? You think this savage could genuinely love someone like you? Someone so weak and useless? They’ll use you and simply throw you away, just like anyone else would.”

You hear Paz snarl behind you, no doubt shaking with rage and a desire for wrath against your father, but you offer your last living relative a weak smile and nod a little, thinking of everything your warrior has done for you in the last few months and the happiness he’s given you. Perhaps you’re not as naive as you once thought--now so used to the horrors of such a cruel planet--and you’re certain that if this huge warrior insists his love for you, he must not be lying.

“I am not weak nor useless and I now know that,” You insist fiercely, and even though your voice trembles, you feel the words deep down in your bones--in your soul--and you step closer to the man whose unfocused gaze is currently switching between you and Paz frantically, “I am far stronger than you have ever led me to believe and I will not let you tear down me, nor the only man who has ever built me up. Even if I am not accepted, I will find a way to make a life for myself because anywhere is better than this hell.”

His angry expression cracks as soon as he realizes he no longer has any control over your inhibitions or choices and you know what’s about to happen--the manipulative words he’s about to spew.

“Y-You can’t leave me!” He doesn’t sound angry, but more so frantic at the thought of no longer having control over you, and he pleadingly holds out his careless hands, “You are my only family I have left.”

Though you feel a twinge of pain in your heart at how distraught he suddenly sounds, you turn your head to peer at Paz over your shoulder, who now has his blaster lowered. His helmet tilts to the side a little when he sees the conflict etched on your features and you think he must be incredulous that you even have to think about this--choosing between him or your father--but he simply gives you a curt nod and you turn back to your father.

“You said it yourself--” You whisper, backing away from his stumbling form before he can reach you, “You have no daughter, nor do I have a father.”

As soon as you see the look of despair melt into something more intense, something you’re so acclimated with--that anger, that intense fury--you immediately know you’ve made the right choice. Feeling flustered and slightly overwhelmed, you hastily turn around and storm past the usually talkative Mandalorian that has grown deathly silent and still as his Beskar gaze follows your small form that’s still clutching his cape close to your chest.

“Don’t forget that promise, you useless bitch! I’ll make you both fucking suffer,” He spits, instantly making you freeze and though dread crawls up your spine, you slowly turn to find Paz charging towards the much smaller, more feeble man with great furiosity that you’ve never seen from him, “Fucking Manda--”

You watch with wide eyes as your warrior immediately wraps his fingers around your newly estranged father’s neck and you are quick to make your way towards the two men when Paz effortlessly shoves him up against the outside of the hut with enough force to crack the outside of the little building. Your father claws desperately at the hand that has him pinned to the building, his feet an inch or two off the ground and you freeze when you hear the anger and pain in Paz’s modulated voice.

“You are lucky the little nurse has a tender heart and doesn’t wish for me to end your sorry existence, because I would have gladly had your lifeless body at her feet the moment I first saw you mistreat her,” Paz easily inches him higher off the ground, not seeming all too worried about his comfort as he squeezes his hand tighter around the struggling man’s esophagus, “You have caused her enough pain to last a lifetime and I will not watch you hurt her anymore with your words or hands.”

Your father’s mouth is wide open as he gasps and flops wildly like a fish on land when Paz finally drops him and you can tell it’s taking everything out of him to not cause the older man further damage as he wheezes violently at the warrior’s feet. You think you should feel sorry for your father, but instead you feel embarrassed that you have let someone so pathetic and greedy push you around for such a long time.

“He’s going to get tired of you and leave, you ungrateful bitch!” The older man speaks through loud gasps for air, choking and heaving on his own spit, “Everyone always does, you know you’re nothing--”

You should stop Paz--you know you should stop him as he lifts his boot, only to send a mighty kick to your father’s ribs and you hear a loud crack that you are all too familiar with, though you don’t cringe or turn away from it.

You’re far too acquainted with the sound to be disgusted by it and you think it to be painfully ironic that he is now in a position that you’ve been in so many times because of him.

“Useless, huh? Have fun tending your own wounds without her help,” Paz scoffs, listening to the injured man wheeze frantically, biting back whimpers as he clutches his side, “You ever try anything with her or even think about coming for me, I’ll cut your hands off and let someone else in tribe deal with you, hu’tuun. They would not show you the same mercy that I have and I would not mind seeing what kind of pain they would show you.”

You watch with wide eyes as he slowly turns around, tight fists instantly unfurling as he sees your shocked expression, though he is quick to carefully grab your elbow and lead you away from the man who is still gasping for deep breaths of air. The bright glimmer of moonlight kissing his visor as he turns to peer down at you every now and then has you growing curious and slightly worried at the sharp, jittery motions.

“Paz, are you--?”

“I am sorry you had to see me like that,” He makes haste to apologize and you shake your head a little as he leads you further away from your broken home, “I do not want you to think of me as cruel, but the way he speaks to you and treats you… I wanted to kill him, cyare.”

“After today, I don’t think I could ever believe you to be cruel,” You whisper with a light shudder, feeling the way his fingertips immediately slide down the inside of your forearm before they’re weaving through the valleys of your fingers in a firm hold; you think of the Trandoshan and bounty hunter and shake your head again, “I… I have seen what cruel men are capable of and I would never think you to be like them.”

“When we get to the covert, will you tell me what happened to you today--what he did to you?” Paz sounds so restrained and full of anger and sadness as he thinks of someone he’s considered to be a brother hunting you down and hurting you so horrifically, “If it is too hard to speak of it, I won’t push you.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and exhale deeply as he takes you further outside the village, “I do not know if I have the strength to talk about it yet.”

“Okay,” Paz nods sharply, even though you can tell that this is all killing him slowly and he so desperately wants to know what the hell happened, “Okay, cyare.”

You smile softly at him being so understanding of the delicate situation and tiredly press your cheek against his bicep as he leads you to the people that are supposedly excited for your arrival. You think Paz must be exaggerating about his tribe’s eagerness to meet you and there’s a sick feeling growing in your stomach as you think of their bounty hunter and how he was most likely one of the Mandalorians who didn’t want you at the covert.

“Are you okay?” He asks after a few minutes of silence as you both slowly trudge through the village, though you think he only walks slow for you and your injuries, “That couldn’t have been an easy thing for you to stand up to him like that.”

“I… I don’t really know how to feel,” You whisper, your fingers curling tightly around his as you try to gather your thoughts into one cohesive statement to sum up your feelings, “I am sad, but my chest feels lighter. I have never talked back to him like that, but I do not regret what I said.”

“That takes a lot of courage,” Paz consoles with a deep hum, giving your hand a gentle squeeze and as he tilts his helmet a little lower and to the side, you like to picture him smiling down at you--whatever his smile may look like, though you’re certain it must be a kind, warm one, “It takes strength to stand up to someone that has hurt and manipulated you that badly, cyare, and you should feel only pride for acting so bravely.”

You smile and nod a little, knowing that someday you will truly believe his words, but for now you simply remain silent and focus on the firm hold he has on your hand. You hesitate and tense up when he moves to lead you down a dark alleyway that seems to go on for a mile; it’s so dark that you can’t even see where it ends and you move to take a step backwards as you think of the Trandoshan.

“It’s okay,” Paz reassures you, seeming to notice and understand your tension, “It’s… It’s been a long day, I get it, but I won’t let anything else happen to you. You’ve got me, cyare--always.”

You tug your hand out of his and squeeze the crook of his elbow as he leads you into the darkness of the alleyway. Despite not being able to make out anything, you feel how unwavering and sure the warrior is as he easily strides down the alleyway and it’s not until he scoops a thick curtain to the side that he turns on the little flashlight attached to the side of his helmet. You’re surprised to find a small set of stairs that leads down into a dark tunnel and you let him guide the way, trusting him enough to know he’s taking you somewhere safe.

“Careful,” Paz says softly as you slowly make your way down the winding staircase that takes the two of you further underground, “I know how clumsy you can be--or what was it you said when I took you to the hot springs the first time? The only thing graceful about you are your hands?”

You huff and try to shrug off the flirty remark, shaking your head as you carefully trail behind him, "You are not as smooth as you think, Paz."

He turns his helmet to gaze at you, nearly blinding you with the flashlight, all while continuing to descend the staircase and you hear him chuckle, "You’re lucky I am wearing my gloves, I know how hot your ears and cheeks get when you get all shy around me, little nurse.”

“I am sunburned,” You inform him with a scoff as he turns to face forward upon meeting the bottom of the staircase; you unfurl his cape to wrap it around your shoulders as it begins to grow colder, “I think most of my skin is pretty warm right now.”

He hums and you think he’s tense as you wrap both hands around his bicep as you two venture further into the underground tunnels; you remember the heavy weight of the Trandoshan’s body draped over your weak one as the heat from harsh sun rays beat down on you for hours on end. He doesn’t know anything that’s happened to you in the last day and you’re not sure if you should tell him, somewhat fearing for the bounty hunter’s life at the thought of Paz’s anger upon finding out you had been forced to take a life.

That the Trandoshan had touched you--that he’d nearly taken off your dress.

You don’t even realize how hard you’re clinging onto Paz’s bicep, forcing yourself to remember that you hadn’t been violated in such an intense way and that you were currently safe with your Mandalorian.

“We are almost there,” Paz reassures you, though you think it only brings you more anxiety and fear as he calmly leads you to his tribe, not seeming fazed or nervous in the slightest, “You will be loved by them as a little sister, please do not worry. I will take care of the bounty hunter.”

You simply nod as you let him guide you through what feels like endless tunnels and turns and you wonder how he could possibly know his way through such an intense maze of dark stone. You think of all the times he’s made his way through the tunnels just to see you and your heart swells as you glance up at his scuffed up helmet with admiration, thinking that he must see something in you to make such a winding journey so many times.

“Stay behind me, please,” Paz gently orders, responding quietly to your wide-eyed expression after he nudges you behind his big frame, “Just for a minute.”

He turns a corner just as an unfamiliar voice speaks up and you instantly perk up at the sound of a small, innocent voice; they sound younger than you and you’re not sure why, but that brings you great comfort immediately.

“Norac bid nusujii, ori kebiin?” A high-pitched, feminine voice has you feeling curious and despite Paz’s words, you poke your head to gaze past his bicep. Instantly, a forest green helmet with that notorious t-shaped visor whips to the side to stare at you and the smaller Mandalorian is quick to stand up from where she had been perched on a stone ledge next to the large, round entrance leading into the covert. You blink at the scuffed up teal armor that the female Mandalorian dons and you think the sapphire color of her gauntlets to be beautiful and less intimidating compared to the bounty hunter’s armor.

“Cuyir ibic gar orikih baar'ur, ba’vodu Paz?”

You think she must be asking Paz a question by the incline of her tone and he immediately turns to find you gazing intensely at the guard; letting out with a crackly sigh, Paz gives her a single sharp nod, “‘Lek.”

She lets an amused hum slip past her modulator and steps a little closer, “Ni copad at haa'taylir kaysh.”

Paz turns a little to place a big hand on the small of your back, kindly urging you forward and you hear the colorful Mandalorian let out with a small chuckle when you speak quietly in a shy voice, “The colors of your armor are pretty--blue is one of my favorite colors.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.”

You immediately understand the meaning of her playful words when Paz offers her some sort of admonishment in his deep voice, speaking in his native tongue, “Gar liser't chayaikir kaysh guuror ibic.”

“Sorry, sorry,” The woman chuckles a little, helmet cocking to the side as she places a leather hand on her hip, “Thank you for the compliment, though I do not think I have ever heard someone refer to a Mandalorian as being pretty; most people would spit on us the first chance they got,” 

She still sounds amused as she props her sharp Beskar staff up against the stone wall, holding out a hand for you to shake; you smile weakly at the greeting and grasp her hand lightly, noticing her firm grip right away. She stands a few inches taller than you and even though she is probably the least intimidating Mandalorian you’ve met so far, you don’t doubt her strength.

“I do not think that those who would choose to spit on you would last very long.”

“Ni guuror kaysh,” The colorful Mandalorian giggles, her head tilting to the side as she peers down at you, “Cuyir gar orikih baar’ur ratiin ibic pel?”

“Elek,” Paz huffs a little and nods, sounding proud as he quickly answers her question, “Yes, ever since the day I first saw her.”

Your cheeks burn at what they could possibly be saying about you, though you don’t wish to cause any disrespect and politely continue to firmly shake the colorful Mandalorian’s hand as she giggles a little louder at his answer.

“I am Imalia,” She finally introduces herself and you’re surprised to actually hear excitement in her smooth, modulated voice as she continues to shake your hand; you’re even more surprised that she would so willingly give you her name, “Everyone calls me Ima though; I am one of the guards that protects the entrance this late at night since we’ve been having more and more close calls with outsiders lately.”

You blink as her leather-clad palm slips from yours and you nervously wring your fingers together, not knowing what to do with your own hands, “My name is--”

“Oh, we all know who you are, vod’ika,” She interrupts with another giggle and confusion fills you when you hear Paz let out with an exasperated sigh; your heart warms when you remember that he had told you ‘vod’ika’ meant little sister,  “Our heavy-infantry warrior hasn’t shut up about you since he first saw you--always rambling on about his ‘mesh’la saviin’ika’ and how pretty your flowers are and how kind you are and how he wants riduurok with you someday. We all thought he was making you up until he brought home your flowers one day.”

“Ori Kebiin bal Saviin’ika,” She tilts her head to the side, amused by her own words and you hear Paz groan from behind you, “How cute.”

You grow even shyer at her teasing voice, “What does... that mean? R-Riduurok?”

“Oh, y’know,” Ima says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, flippantly waving a gloved hand around, “When two people agree to--”

“It means Imalia is a teenager who likes to gossip too much and is far too nosy for her own good,” Paz quickly deflects, resting a large hand over the slope of your shoulder and you think he almost sounds stressed out and worried as the colorful Mandalorian shrugs halfheartedly, “Is the armorer at the forge, Mal?” 

The way he seems so comfortable speaking with the younger warrior immediately makes you smile softly and you wonder if he’s this way with all the younger Mandalorians.

“I need to speak with her--it’s urgent.”

Imalia tilts her head to the side and you feel small underneath her intimidating gaze, despite the fact that she’s apparently younger than you; she must be inspecting you closely and you suddenly wish you had the opportunity to take a shower before leaving your house. You can still feel all the dried blood matted to your scalp and crusted into your hairline and you’re certain Ima must see it as well.

“Tion'jor an te tal?” Ima questions in a much quieter tone and you flinch severely when her hand moves to touch one of your braids, though she is quick to pull her hand away, turning sharply to gaze up at Paz instead; her voice sounds much graver and sadder when she speaks again, “Vaii cuyir te sarad gar rucuyir cyau'kuyc at dinuir kaysh? Cuyir te baar'ur shupur'yc?”

“It’s a long story,” He says in Basic, something you’re grateful for as the colorful Mandalorian, slowly takes her seat back on the stone ledge, grabbing her long spear once more as Paz continues, “It’s all Djarin’s fault. He came after her because of the vulptex.”

“That damn bounty hunter--no wonder why he was so tense when he came back earlier,” Ima sighs, shaking her head as though this is a common occurrence within the tribe and your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, “I’m surprised he’s even alive still; I’m starting to think he has only one brain cell left.”

“Not for much longer,” Paz huffs, fingers twitching against the thick fabric of your long sweater and you let him guide you through the large entrance into another tunnel, “The runt is dead the moment I see his sorry ass.”

The teenager doesn’t seem all the fazed by Paz’s foreboding words, watching as you two venture further into the enclave, “I don’t doubt it.”

You turn your head over your shoulder to catch one last glimpse at Ima’s beautiful green helmet, “It was nice meeting you, Ima.”

“You as well, saviin’ika,” You can hear the smile in her modulated voice, warm and syrupy sweet, and your heart melts at her next words, “I look forward to seeing more of you, rather than hearing it from ori kebiin’s annoying mouth.”

Despite the long day you’ve experienced and everything that’s happened with your father, you smile tiredly at her and face forward as Paz lets out with another annoyed sigh, grumbling something so low that you can’t make it out from underneath his helmet. 

He continues straight down the dim tunnel that is barely lit and your eyes widen as he leads you through another rounded entrance that has some sort of huge insignia welded to the top; you think it almost resembles a Mandalorian helmet with horns coming out the side and you make a mental note to ask Paz about it later.

Paz hums thoughtfully as he inspects his surroundings, looking for something--or someone--in particular; you take in your surroundings curiously, detaching yourself from the distracted Mandalorian to make your way over to a little workbench that seems to have discarded scraps of metal. Not wanting to be rude by touching someone else’s belongings, you simply observe all the scuffed and rusted Beskar, though something in particular catches your attention.

You force yourself not to reach out to touch the little pendant that resembles the one welded above the entrance of the forge, though something about the faded purple horns intrigue you more than you’d like to admit

“I thought we agreed not to take in your nurse until we got our bounty hunter’s vote,” A smooth, demure voice instantly startles you and you quickly turn around to come face to face with a Mandalorian who is slowly and surely entering the armory, her gaze fixated on you in an intense manner, “It is not like you to go against my word, Paz. Do you understand that you have put the tribe at risk?”

You eye the thick furs draped along her shoulders, along with the beautiful glimmer of her golden helmet; you think the richness of the gold contrasting against the deep maroon of the rest of her armor is stunning and immediately, you think she must be the leader of the covert. Though she lacks in height, just like you, she makes up for it with a powerful aura of quiet strength and leadership and you immediately admire her. 

Though you’re terribly nervous, you’ve never wanted to make such a good first impression with someone and you shakily speak up before Paz can, his helmet jolting to the side to gaze at you with what you’re certain is surprise.

It seems as though you’ve been doing that a lot lately--surprising everyone, including yourself.

“He wanted to wait as well,” You inform her, awkwardly skittering forward when she pulls out a chair for you to sit on, seeming to understand your exhaustion after a long day, “I… I was brought here because of the circumstances of today.”

“And what were the circumstances, little one?” She questions smoothly, her voice like rich velvet through her vocoder as she grabs a small metal mug from a shelf and a teapot that must already be filled with hot water; immediately, Paz starts to speak in an angered tone, but she is quick and calm to interrupt his hasty words as she pours hot water over a bundle of herbs, “I believe I asked your nurse, warrior, not you.”

“Thank you,” You whisper your gratitude when she makes her way back to you and kindly places a steaming mug filled with something that smells simultaneously sweet and spicy, “I haven’t had a warm drink in a while.”

“I know,” She informs you and your eyes widen in fear at the thought of Paz telling everyone in the covert about your father; anger fills you just for the tiniest moment before the armorer is squashing your worries like a bug beneath her boot, “I know only of what our heavy-infantry warrior has informed us about you, though he has spoken nothing of your personal life or family. It is unfortunate that you do not wear our helmet, little nurse, for it is quite easy to read the pain and suffering in your eyes. You may be younger than I, but you have lived a lifetime already, have you not?”

Your nostrils flare as you struggle to swallow the lump in your throat when you realize the wisdom this woman possesses, “I have felt enough pity for one lifetime as well, I do not wish to feel it anymore from myself or anyone else.”

She glances up at Paz, who has his arms crossed over his chest as he watches you closely, before her gaze is once again fixated on you taking a tentative sip of the flavorful tea; she cocks her head to the side, as if intrigued, and you hope that you are making a decent impression, “Very well. Tell me of the circumstances that have led you here today, little one.”

So, you do.

Paz pulls up a tiny chair that creaks underneath his weight and sits off to the side as you reluctantly relay the story of you and the bounty hunter--how you had willingly taken that blaster shot to save your vulptex, how you had been forced to cauterize your wound, how many times you tried to mention Paz’s name, though the hunter refused to listen. You think it’s taking everything out of Paz to not immediately go searching for his fellow Mandalorian, but he remains seated, his visor fixed on you and his fingers curled into tight fists atop his armored thighs. 

As soon as you mention the speeder and the barren lands, you see Paz straightening up, his breath hitching in his throat as you speak of the deal with the Trandoshan and how the bounty hunter hadn’t hesitated to trade you in for a pouch of credits.

How you had begged the hunter not to hand you over because the Trandoshan only held cruel intentions towards you.

Somehow, you manage not to cry the entire time, but as soon as you speak of the vibroblade Paz had given you--how you were barely able to keep a good grip on the handle because of how bloody your hand was--tears spring to your eyes. You squeeze the hot mug between your hands firmly, trying your hardest to take comfort in the warmth it brings your cold body.

Against your better judgment, you decide to leave the Trandoshan’s intentions as far away from the story as you possibly can, not wanting to inform Paz of how close he’d been to slipping his hands underneath your dress.

You know that would be the one detail of your story that would leave him completely unhinged.

You squeeze your eyes shut just as you maneuver around the painful topic, “Throat wounds are usually the most deadly and I… I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off of me and I had to take his life. I cannot stop thinking of the noises he made when I--and he was choking on his own blood and it got all over me and I never had to--”

“Ner cyare,” Paz’s voice sounds thick with emotion as you stare down at your lap in shame, not noticing the way the armorer is still gazing intensely at you, “I didn’t know you had to... Maker, that’s where all the blood came from?”

“You did what you must to survive in such a cruel place,” The armorer seems to have better words to say than Paz and you think he must be caught in an intense war of anger towards his brother or sadness because you had lost a piece of yourself, “Though I can only imagine the turmoil one so innocent would be going through after experiencing something so traumatic. Please, continue if you can.”

You’re not sure how you manage to speak with how shaky you’ve become, but surrounded by two powerful warriors, you want to be stronger, “I-I immediately went into shock because there was so much blood--Maker, there was so much blood--and I just froze and he fell forward on top of me. I was too weak at the moment to push him off and I passed out in the sun. When I woke up hours later, my skin was burning but I was able to get the Trandoshan off of me finally.”

You find it difficult to look at either one of them, so your gaze flickers up to the little horns on the armorer’s helmet as you take another sip of tea before continuing, “I… I passed out again; I don’t know why I was so tired, but when I woke up again, it was night time and the bounty hunter had come back for me and was taking Paz’s blade from my hand. He asked me who I got the weapon from and as soon as I said Paz, I could tell he regretted everything.”

The armorer speaks after Paz lets out an infuriated growl, standing up to his most intimidating size, though the female Mandalorian feels no sort of fear as she speaks only to you, “And do you truly feel as though our bounty hunter felt sorry for what he did to you?”

You sit up a little straighter and stare right into her visor, thinking hard about your response before answering out loud, though you can tell Paz is seething and vibrating with rage.

“I think he felt sorry for hurting someone who was precious to Paz, but not that I was protecting something I considered dear to me,” You inform her in an earnest, hushed tone, making her cock her helmet to the side a little, “I think he was just a man doing his job as a bounty hunter, but he was also cruel to me. When I tried to tell him that I knew Paz, he would make me be quiet and told me that whatever I had to say did not matter.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and quickly brush away the tears at your lashes as you continue, “He almost made me believe the stories that my parents used to tell me of Mandalorians, but I know Paz enough to know the stories aren’t true. I’ve only known Imalia--Ima--for a few minutes, but she treated me kindly and I do not wish to believe that everyone in your tribe could be so cruel, especially when you and her have shown me respect.”

“And how have I shown you respect when all I’ve done is given you the opportunity to tell me your story, little one?”

“I think that is one of the kindest ways you can treat another--to allow them to speak up for themselves without judging them,” Warmth spreads through your cheeks and ears as you take another sip of your sweet, spicy tea and you gaze shyly at the armorer, “I know my voice shakes when I am scared or angry and that I cry more than I probably should, but you and Paz and even Ima have shown me more respect than anyone else I’ve met in the last decade. Even if I was not accepted, I am grateful to see that love and kindness has lived underneath this cruel village for so long.”

The armorer stares at you in an unwavering manner and you fear the worst when she slowly turns her helmet to gaze up at Paz, who’s still staring intently at you, and she almost sounds amused as she turns to you once again, “It seems as though our heavy-infantry warrior was correct when he informed us all that it is impossible to dislike you.”

“I only wish to treat others the same way I would like to be treated,” You smile at the thought of your grouchy Mandalorian giving you such high praise about you to his family and you curl your fingers against your knees, “I apologize that this is the way I was introduced to you--all bloody and still shaken up.”

Her head tilts to the side in a curious manner, “Our tribe’s bounty hunter was careless and hurt you, yet you are the one apologizing?”

“It was my fault for--”

“Do not feel sorry or at fault for this, cyare,” Paz insists and you finally look up at him as he speaks through clenched teeth, “Where is Djarin, ner alor? I will have him begging for forgiveness at her feet the second I see him--I want him to suffer for what he did to her!”

The armorer lets out with a tired sigh and she shakes her helmet a little as you timidly finish off your tea, watching the altercation take place over the rim of your mug, “Our bounty hunter is currently asleep in his quarters, just as you two should be.”

Paz refuses to back down and you fear that he’s actually going to kill his fellow Mandalorian as his deep baritone grows louder and more infuriated, “I want to kill him, I don’t care that he is currently resting. He is a coward and--”

“Your little healer is exhausted and afraid,” The armorer reminds him firmly, standing up to her full height and you realize her true power when Paz recoils a little, “She is in a new place, surrounded by people she has never met and it has been a long day for her. Would you be so cruel and selfish to deny her relaxation after witnessing such trauma? The nurse is about to fall out of her chair, and yet you only wish to seek violence when she has already seen too much of it in her lifetime.”

“I didn’t--” Paz’s helmet jolts a little as he gazes intensely at you, though you offer him a weak, tired smile, “I am sorry, ner cyare, I was not thinking properly.”

“It’s okay,” You shake your head a little as you slowly stand, your hand traveling to the cauterized wound at your hip; and Paz is instantly at your side when you keel over a little bit in pain, “Although it would be nice to um, to maybe get all of this blood out of my hair?”

“Negotiations for the nurse’s future with the tribe will continue tomorrow,” The armorer stands tall, somehow exuding more power and grace than your blue warrior, ��In the meantime, she will recover and rest for as long as she requires.”

“Th-Thank you,” Paz gently presses his hand to the small of your back as you offer your gratitude to the tribe’s matriarch, “For everything.”

She simply offers you a curt nod and watches as Paz dutifully takes you to his private quarters. 

The enclave is a lot quieter than you would have expected and you think they must have some sort of system when it comes to training and sleeping; you have so many questions, but you don’t want to sound too nosy, so you remain silent during the small journey. Your eyelids feel incredibly heavy as he quietly guides you and you pray the Mandalorian doesn’t think too differently after hearing your story--that he doesn’t see you to be any less of yourself for being forced to steal someone’s life.

He’s still tense as he wraps an arm around your waist to help you descend another staircase leading even deeper into the enclave and you hate that you are a part of the reason why he’s so angry and upset. You hate his moody silence, knowing that he’s normally so talkative with you and could probably carry a conversation with himself if it meant you had his full interest.

Tiredly, you make it your own little mission to distract him from his inner turmoil and gently grab his yellow gauntlet once the two of you make it to the bottom of the staircase. His helmet jolts to the side to gaze down at you as you hold his forearm to your stomach, your fingers barely grazing the slim barrel attached to the top of his gauntlet.

You smile up at his visor, whispering out a meek little, ‘I love you.’

Instantly, he stops walking to lean down to press his forehead against yours and warmth settles over your heart similarly to the way his cape around your cold frame brings you comfort and security.

Immediately, he relaxes his tense muscles and lets out a deep sigh, “I love you too, cyare.”

You observe your dark surroundings closely as he leads you past what seems to be several different alcoves that you assume must be the living quarters for other Mandalorians, the entrances to them covered by thick black fabric. You’re surprised when he guides you past them and around a corner where there’s a stone door straight at the end of the corridor; you wonder if he has a bigger room than everyone else because of his status or ranking within the tribe, though you think it rude to ask and simply follow him into his dimly lit quarters.

You’re surprised to find that it’s far bigger than your little hut and you take in all the new surroundings with curiosity.

You keep your hands clasped tightly together, feeling awkward as you watch the warrior calmly make his way to a huge chest on the floor at the foot of his massive bed, seeming utterly relaxed as he begins to remove his big gauntlets and black gloves. placing them inside the large chest. You almost think he’s forgotten about you until he stands up again and purposely wanders back to you, immediately intertwining his fingers through yours and giving your hand a gentle tug.

“You must be dying for a shower,” He sighs softly, leading you further into his private quarters and through a small alcove protected by black drapes; your cheeks burn hotter than coals when you think of how easy it would be for him to easily invade your privacy, though you know him to be a respectful man, “The water doesn’t always get the warmest, but I’m sure it will be nicer than whatever you had at your home.”

You perk up when you see the big shower and dozens of little holes in the ceiling where the water must fall from, “We had a sonic shower at the infirmary. I’ve never used a real one with actual water.”

The blue warrior stares at you for a few moments before shaking his head a little; he digs through your small canvas bag, pulling out the jars that contain your hair products, as well as your bar of soap. You watch with curiosity as he opens the glass door the shower and places your stuff on a small shelf next to his own belongings and it finally hits you that you are actually at his covert with him and not your measly little hut with a man who hates you.

Paz twists a metal knob a few times around, causing a soft whirring noise, followed by fat droplets of water to fall from the holes in the ceiling and your eyes widen a little at the sight.

“Take as long as you want,” He gently orders in a cool rasp, stroking your bruised cheek with the utmost care and immediately, you turn your head to kiss his palm, earning you a little sigh from him, “I’ll go get some food for you while you shower.”

He turns to leave you alone, but your curiosity gets the better of you and you awkwardly speak up in his native tongue, “Ori kebiin--”

Immediately, the Mandalorian freezes, his back facing you as you speak the strange words that the guard had spoken earlier, “That’s what Ima said, right? I know you told me that saviin’ika means violet and I heard her say that, but what does ori kebiin mean? Is it your title in the tribe?”

“I--It’s just--” Paz seems to hesitate for a few moments before you hear him let out with a frustrated groan, “It is what many of the younger ones in the tribe refer to me as; it means big blue. When I told you that saviin’ika only meant violet, I lied to you, cyare. Saviin means violet, but ‘ika means little.”

“Big blue and little violet?” You murmur, cheeks burning more intensely than any severe sunburn could possibly inflict on you as the warmth spreads to the tip of your ears, “That’s what she was so--”

“It’s nothing,” He huffs a little and rolls his head a little, the joints in his neck cracking from the tension that comes with a long day, "The younger ones in the tribe keep teasing me about you because they know they can get away with it."

You nod and quietly ask him one last question before he can leave, "Where is my vulptex? You said she was here, right?"

Paz chuckles a little as you frantically voice your concerns aloud, now that the two of you are safe and alone, "She is most likely in the nursery with the little ones. She has been fed and taken care of all day, cyare, please do not worry about anyone other than yourself right now. I’ll be out there if you need anything, just call if you need help."

You smile and give him one last 'thank you’ as he leaves you to wash yourself. Slowly and tiredly, you peel your clothes from your bruised and bloodied body and excitedly make your way into the shower.

A gasp nearly leaves you upon feeling the warm water gently pelt against your skin and you smile a little as you tilt your head backwards and let the water loosen the dried blood from your hair. A content sigh escapes you as you remove your metal cuffs from the tails of your braids and you place them on a little stone shelf next to yours’ and Paz's toiletries before getting to work on gently washing your mane, taking your time to make sure all the blood is removed.

You do everything in your power to not pay attention to the pink swirl of water that runs around the big drain in daunting circles. 

Instead, you focus on the scent of your comforting floral shampoo or the spicy, woodsy scent of your warrior’s toiletries as you curiously bring the bar of soap to your nose to smell it.

You're not sure how long you're under the warm spray of water, your eyelids threatening to slip shut, but eventually, you're finally clean and ridden of any proof that you've stolen a life. Reluctantly, you shut the water off and step out onto a furry mat, grabbing a towel that's neatly folded next to your canvas bag. As you dry yourself, making sure not to jostle your injured hip too much, you realize just how much better you already feel now that you're clean.

It’s only once you’ve put on your nightgown that you risk a glance at the little mirror that hangs above the sink and immediately freeze. You look exhausted, you realize as you stare at your wide-eyed expression with sadness and defeat, your eyes filled with the same kind of intense emotion that would be in a young warrior’s eyes upon coming back from war. Hastily, you turn your attention to your hair, carefully combing out all the knots with the comb that Paz had dutifully tucked into the canvas bag for you.

When you brush through your hair for what must be the hundredth time, you realize you’re only delaying the inevitable--him seeing your arms and the rest of your body so exposed in your nightgown, along with all the scars and welts displayed across parts of your arms and shoulders that he’s never seen before.

‘He is a warrior,’ You remind yourself fiercely, nervously tucking a wet lock of hair behind the curve of your ear as you muster up the courage to sweep the thick curtain to the side, ‘He is used to scars and he’s told you countless times that he doesn’t mind them.’

Your nerves are at an all time high as you spot your Mandalorian in the tiny kitchenette in his private quarters, setting a wooden bowl down onto the table and you tiredly smile as he places a small spoon next to it.

“Thank you for letting me use your shower.”

Paz turns around and freezes upon meeting your gaze with his black visor; you can feel water dripping onto the thin satin material of your dress, as well as down your neck and you blink with curiosity as he remains glued to his spot in front of the little table that you realize is next to a stone furnace. He’s holding a bowl with steam dancing along the surface and your mouth instinctively waters when you catch a whiff of all the spices and unfamiliar scents of the savory meal. Behind him, you see a small piece of bread and another bowl filled with vibrant fresh fruit and you feel your heart clench at the mere thought of eating something sweet.

“You don’t have to keep thanking me for everything,” He kindly informs you, pulling out a chair as an invitation to sit down as he sets the bowl on the table, “It is... nice to see you looking more like your normal self already.”

You smile warmly at him and take a seat as the Mandalorian begins to disarm his heavy weapons and equipment, placing them in a safe spot near his massive bed where they are readily accessible, should danger dare threaten him. You nervously fiddle with the wet ends of your clean hair as your knee bounces frantically, watching him as he begins to slowly remove his armor, starting with his pauldrons as he carefully places them in that large chest at the foot of his bed.

His helmet turns and he immediately notices your hesitation to eat the food he’s laid out for you, “You... You can help yourself, cyare. I have already eaten and I can tell you’re hungry.”

You politely murmur a quiet ‘thank you’, not noticing the way his shoulders drop a little as you finally pick up the spoon to eat, your stomach growling more intensely than a rabid beast. Tucking a leg underneath yourself, you tentatively blow on the steaming spoonful of delicious looking stew before bringing it to your mouth and before you can fully register all the different spices, your taste buds explode.

Paz nearly chuckles upon watching your eyes slowly close as you experience all the different flavors for the first time, “I’m going to shower while you eat.”

“Mhm,” You simply hum, barely aware of him shaking his head in an amused manner as you practically ignore him, focusing only on the well-seasoned stew as he makes his way to the refresher. 

You’re slightly sad when your spoon inevitably scrapes the bottom of the wooden dish, but excitement fills you when you remember the bowl of fruit that had been left for you. The berry you pick up is a deep shade of purple and covered in white streaks and you slowly let it slip between your lips, your shoulders falling when you bite into the berry, causing tart juice to explode in your mouth.

You’re not sure how long you must be savoring the fruit for, but eventually, your Mandalorian exits the refresher, completely ridden of all the padding and armor and his visor instantly seeks you out; you’re in the process of licking juice off your finger when your eyes dart upwards to find him standing only a few feet away from you. 

Immediately you freeze, eyes wide as he walks around with his scarred torso completely bared to you, his black sleep pants slung low on his hips and you find it nearly impossible to look away from the rich brown skin that he’s choosing to expose to you for the first time. The muscles of his shoulders and arms are more defined than his soft chest and stomach and you think he must carry most of his strength in those powerful arms, what with being his tribe’s heavy-infantry warrior.

You’re grateful that he’s not touching your cheeks or ears, that way he can’t truly tell how flustered you are. Instead, he dutifully retrieves an extra fur that’s folded in one of the drawers off to the side, only turning to meet your gaze once he’s done covering his mattress in the warm material.

He must take your wide-eyed expression the wrong way, because he almost sounds afraid when he quietly speaks up, “What? You do not wish to see me like this? Are you uncomfortable?”

Immediately, you abandon your fruit and stand up to approach him, “I think you are beautiful, Paz.”

He scoffs a little, but accepts a warm embrace from you as you rest your cheek against his sternum and hook your arms underneath his armpits so you can lay your hands atop his defined shoulder blades. Instantly, his arms are wrapped tightly around your own shoulders and he holds you close to his warm chest where you can feel his heart thumping against your ear like a beacon of power and strength.

“That is my line,” He murmurs, and your lips stretch into a tired smile against his soft skin, the dark curls loosely splayed along his chest are coarse as they tickle your cheek, though you don’t mind at all, “Besides, I thought you once said you would not dare to feed my ego anymore than you already have.”

You close your eyes, taking comfort in the deep rumbling of his chest and voice as you feel his heart thrum powerfully and frantically against your eardrum, “Something makes me think your ego is not as massive as I once thought it to be.”

He scoffs, but simply holds you close to him and you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt such comforting skin on skin contact like this; his huge arms simultaneously acting as a heater and a shield. He hums when you let out a relieved sigh, your warm breath fanning across his sternum as he shivers a little and brings a hand up to gently rub the back of your head, not caring that your hair is still dripping wet and getting onto his own chest.

“Sweetheart,” His chest rumbles as he speaks and your eyes flicker up to meet his visor, “We are both exhausted, it is time for us to rest, I think. Besides, I would much rather hold you like this in my bed.”

You smile and nod a little, watching as he stands tall and moves to turn off all the lights in the dim room. Hesitantly, you make your way underneath the thick furs that are draped on top of the mattress and as you let your head rest on top of a soft pillow, you fear that you will simply sink right through it, as you’ve never rested on something so pliable. Once it’s pitch black in the room and you feel the weight of his warm body dipping in the mattress next to you, you turn over onto your side to face him, despite not being able to see him in the slightest.

Immediately, your mind goes into overdrive as you think of what you’re supposed to do--what he expects from you--and you nearly jump when you feel the gentle weight of his palm carefully resting on top of your sunburnt cheek, his thumb tenderly stroking the tail of your brow. You’re not sure if you should move closer to him or what you should do with your hands as he moves the tiniest bit closer to you. Thinking of the Trandoshan and how you'd been pinned underneath his lifeless body for so long, you suddenly crave to feel his heartbeat and you scoot closer to the man that feels more like a furnace.

He doesn't say a word as he moves so he's on his back and lifts a big arm above his head, patiently waiting as you find a comfortable position to rest your head. Finally, after a few awkward seconds of the two of you fumbling around in the dark, your head finds its home on his chest, your cheek pressed against a thick, raised scar and you close your eyes with a soft smile. His arm comes down from above his head to hold you closer to him, his other hand moving to continue its previous ministrations on your cheeks and lips as you rest your palm above his heart.

You’re half asleep when you feel a crooked finger press up against the underside of your jaw, guiding your head upwards slightly and you gasp when you feel something warm and plush kiss the top of your hair.

You’re utterly unfamiliar with the sensation of being kissed, but when you feel the same pressure against your forehead, followed by an unmodulated sigh and warm breath fanning across your face, you realize the warrior has broken part of his sacred code.

He took his helmet off for you.

“P-Paz, you--” Your voice trembles and you feel his lips quirk into a smile against the brow he’s currently kissing before he moves to the bridge of your nose, “Your helmet!”

“What about it, sweetheart?”

You feel at a loss for words at the sound of his unfiltered voice and he lets out with a small chuckle at your intense reaction, humming softly against your skin as he squeezes you a little tighter.

“Can you see my face?” He questions softly against the apple of your cheek, and you shiver at the sound of his smooth baritone in the raw; when you answer him with a weak little ‘no’, he continues with amusement evident in his unfiltered voice, “Then I have not brought dishonor to my tribe or you.”

“Are you sure?”

He huffs out a small chuckle against the tip of your nose and you smile at how different his laughter sounds without his helmet--much lighter and less crackly--and you cling onto his warm voice as he firmly rubs the stress away from your shoulders and cradles your jaw with his other hand. After being handled so roughly and grossly by the Trandoshan, his tender hands fill your aching heart with love and relief; your eyelids slowly slip shut when you feel him move his torso a little off the bed so he can kiss your chin.

“I am positive, sweet nurse.”

Shyly, you lift your hand from his chest and rest it on the side of his neck as he lightly nuzzles his nose into the damp hair that’s just a little above the tip of your ear, seeming to feel no shame as he inhales the scent of your shampoo and conditioner.

You shiver when he presses another kiss into your hair and you speak up as your hand slowly inches up his neck, feeling all the little scars and veins that are prominent, along with the way his Adam’s apple shifts up and down when you graze past it, “Am I allowed to touch your face?”

He hums and moves his head to kiss all the areas on your face that he previously missed--the corners of your eyes, the spot between your brows, as well as the sides of your nose--but he ultimately decides to venture to the corner of your lips, “You may do whatever you wish to me.”

Your face grows hot as he captures your earlobe between his thumb and index finger, a large grin spreading across his lips when he feels the intense warmth on the pad of his fingers, and you shyly continue your ascent up to his face. The first thing you feel is a coarse beard and you nearly jump away from him when the wiry hair tickles and scratches against your sensitive palms; it feels neatly trimmed, cropped just a few inches underneath his smooth cheekbones and you think he must take great care to not slack with his daily hygiene or grooming.

Before you can make it to his nose, the massive warrior sighs against the corner of your lips and speaks in the most wistful tone you think you’ve ever heard--

“May I kiss you properly now, cyare?”

You freeze, completely caught off guard by his words as you hesitantly lift your head from his chest, aiming your gaze in the direction where you think his eyes must be as he reluctantly drops his head back against the pillow. His fingers tense along your sore shoulder blade and you fear that he must feel that he’s done something wrong because of your hesitation, but as you manage to turn and move until your chest is pressed against his, you shyly explore his plump lips with your fingertips.

Curiosity gets the better of you at the thought of exploring his lips with yours and you lower your head and use your hands to guide your lips to his in the darkness of his room.

Immediately, you soften against him, your palms cradling his scratchy cheeks as you shyly kiss him and you're surprised at how warm and soft his lips are against yours.

You can’t help but to grin a little at the deep groan he lets out when he seems to realize that you’re actually kissing him.

Tilting your head a little to the side, you find it easier to kiss him the way you wish and you feel Paz completely relax underneath the tiny weight of your body as you fully press your lips against his, the side of your nose lightly bumping against his. You can smell the minty scent of his own shampoo mixed with the woodsiness of his body wash and you think it intoxicates you as he reaches up to cup the back of your head to keep you from straying too far from his tender lips. 

A small whimper escapes you when his teeth graze your bottom lip and you feel lighter and bereft of all thought when you reluctantly pull away from each other, feeling like a night sky without her moon and you can’t stop yourself from stealing another kiss, earning another soft noise from the surprised man. 

Your heart pounds a little faster when you feel his hand dip down to your waist to carefully hike you further up his body so he doesn’t have to lift his head as much and you smile as you bring your hands up to cup his scruffy cheeks; as your thumbs graze his cheekbones, you’re delighted to find that they are just as warm as your own. You’re practically laying on top of him, though he doesn’t seem to mind the weight of your body in the slightest as he holds you close to him.

Paz makes a small humming noise as he gently rubs a large hand up and down your back, continuing to kiss the corners of your lips and cheeks with fervor even when you pull away for air; you close your eyes in bliss, unfamiliar with the affection, but also basking in his warmth--his love.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.”

He whispers the unfamiliar words several times against your warm skin and you think he must be telling you the sweetest words, what with how quiet and soft he’s grown underneath you and your curiosity immediately gets the better of you.

“What does that mean?” 

“In Mando’a, it means ‘I hold you in my heart forever’,” He explains, teeth grazing your sensitive jawline before moving upwards to steal another kiss from your grinning lips, “It is our way of telling another that we love them.”

You think it sounds far more beautiful than those other simple three words but you let the warrior kiss your lips as many times as he wishes, thinking that perhaps he’s never been this intimate with another. Also because you’ve never been showered with such affection and you think receiving it from Paz is one of the most beautiful phenomenons you’ve ever experienced.

"Your lips still taste like fruit," He informs you as his lips graze your jawline before moving to your ear, "I wonder if the rest of you tastes so sweet."

The gruffness of his tone combined with the way his teeth gently nip at your lobe has you feeling as though you're going to pass out or spontaneously combust. Shyly, you tuck your head firmly underneath his chin, your sunburned cheeks feeling even hotter as the warrior's chest rumbles with a deep laugh.

“I think you only wished to have me here so you can torment me,” You whisper against his bare neck, earning another chuckle from your Mandalorian as he continues to rub your spine in a comforting manner, “I don’t think I mind this kind of torment though. I would not mind having this every night, if you and your people were so kind to allow it.”

“They will,” He murmurs, squeezing you tighter to him, “Please, cyare, rest your eyes. You have had a long day, but you are safe with me now.”

You breathe a sigh of relief and contentment as your eyelids slowly slip shut, exhaustion overtaking your body as he continues to gently press tender kisses to your cheeks and brows until you fall into a strange sleep where you can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. You have nightmares of the Trandoshan’s body pinned against yours, as well as sweet dreams of spending the rest of your days underneath such tender care of your Mandalorian.

You’re in a strange limbo of intense nightmares and delightful dreams, but Paz seems to wake up whenever you whimper or let out with a small cry, reminding you in a hushed whisper that you are somewhere safe with him, rather than the infirmary or your hut. It’s not until you feel him stroking the tail of your brow that you fully fall into a peaceful sleep with visions of blue Beskar and strong arms.

You barely wake up with a quiet whimper hours later when you feel him lightly shuffling your body off of his before speaking in a soft, raspy whisper, “I must leave now for negotiations, cyare. You stay here and rest, okay? I shouldn’t be too long.”

“M’kay,” You blearily hum, nuzzling your face into the pillow that smells like Paz and you’re only slightly aware of the way he gives you one last kiss against your brow before he leaves you to put his armor and helmet on and begin his duties for the day.

You don’t sleep for too much longer, finding that Paz has taken all the warmth with him, even with the plush, thick fur that covers your body. You stare up at the ceiling for a few until you hear the covert slowly come alive, metal scraping against metal and loud shouts in an alien language followed by ringing laughter. Feeling slightly lazy and useless, you decisively get out of the comfortable, massive bed and make your way into the refresher, preparing yourself for what you think might be a long, strange day.

It feels bizarre seeing your hair without its flowers and a part of you wonders if Paz still has the flowers you gave him; perhaps you would still be able to plant them and grow some more, you ponder hopefully.

After you finish your typical morning routine, choosing to leave your hair without your usual braids, you throw on your leggings and sweater before cautiously poking your head out the door. You’re surprised to find the corridor empty and slowly leave Paz’s quarters, despite his insistence on you resting.

Curiosity has you nervously wringing your hands together as you make it to the staircase that Paz had led you down the previous night, and you jump a little upon hearing loud cheering and the shrill sound of metal clanging and scraping against each other. After finally making it up the stairs, you tentatively head in the direction that the ruckus is coming from.

It’s not until you hear Paz’s infuriated baritone of a voice that you make haste to the armory, barely remembering how to get there. Eventually, you round a corner and nearly freeze upon seeing several armored Mandalorians surrounding what appears to be some sort of altercation in front of the forge and you immediately sigh when you see a blue helmet right in the center of it. 

You spot Ima, who seems to stand out from the others with her bright armor and you perk up a little as you approach her.

“Ima,” You say her name just loud enough for her to hear over the a loud shriek of metal being scraped, successfully gaining her attention as she turns to face you, “What’s going on?”

“See for yourself,” She sounds slightly amused and you allow her to place a hand on your shoulder, urging you between her and another huge Mandalorian that barely cocks his helmet to look down at you, “Your ori kebiin verd is fighting for your honor, though I don’t think Djarin is putting up much of a fight.”

You gasp upon seeing the bounty hunter from the previous day crumbled to the ground on his knees, Paz’s hand curled into the thick material of his cowl to hold him up properly.

“How many credits did you deem her life worthy of?!” Paz roars and you instantly freeze, thinking you’ve never heard him this infuriated, even towards your father, “Tell me you fucking hu’tuun! Tell me how many credits you were given in exchange for an innocent, precious life!”

“Five hundred,” The bounty hunter rasps, sounding weak and terribly injured underneath all the Beskar and your instincts have you stepping forward, though Ima is quick to ground you in place with a hand on your shoulder; she simply shakes her head when you peer up at her.

“Five--you gave her away for five hundred credits?!” You feel frozen as Paz forces him to his feet and drags him over to the forge that is now activated, “You only did it because you thought she would be an easy target, didn’t you, Djarin?”

The bounty hunter grunts when Paz forcefully pushes him backwards, slamming his head against the outer rim of the forge before wrapping his fingers around the injured man’s neck and holding his shiny helmet close to the intense flames.

You immediately voice your fears to Ima, who seems unfazed, as though this is a common occurrence, “Is Paz going to actually kill him?”

“Nah, this happens all the--” She stops mid sentence upon hearing the bounty hunter’s grunts and groans from the intense, suffocating heat that’s trapped underneath his helmet, though Paz makes no move to let him go, “Actually, he might go through with it this time. If not, Djarin’s definitely going to wish he was dead.”

“What?” Paz scoffs when the bounty hunter begins to thrash a little harder against the warrior’s unwavering grip, the heat most likely becoming more unbearable, “Can’t handle a little heat, vod? I’m sure you’re crying under that damn helmet more than she cried when you forced her to cauterize her own fucking wound.”

“I didn’t--” The bounty hunter sounds like he’s trying to disguise his excruciating pain and you feel your shoulders tense up to your earlobes, hating that you feel sympathy for the man who attempted to trade your life away for such a small price.

“Do you know how many times she tried to tell you?” Paz’s voice drops to a terrifying growl, the noise crackly and you wonder what’s currently going through his mind, “Do you know what she already had to deal with every damn day and you--” Tears fill your eyes at the pain in his next words, “You know what she means to me and you made her too scared to even look at me, hu’tuun. I almost lost her because of my own brother!”

You fear that the bounty hunter has passed out when he doesn’t respond, his body growing limp underneath Paz’s grip, but the warrior continues, “Why don’t I help you with that heat problem, Djarin? Bet you could use a little fresh air.”

You gasp when a large hand moves to the chin of the bounty hunter’s shiny helmet, his fingers curling underneath the lip and you immediately understand what he wants to do.

“You’re going to look her in eyes when you beg for forgiveness at her feet, Din Djarin.”

Translations *this is for all the dialogue between Imalia and Paz*

norac bid Nusujii, ori kebiin=back so soon, big blue?

cuyir ibic gar orikih baar'ur, ba’vodu?=is this your tiny medic, uncle?

Elek=yes (Lek is more casual, like ‘yeah’)

Ni copad at haa'taylir kaysh=I want to see her

Gar liser't chayaikir kaysh guuror ibic=You can't tease her like this

Ni guuror kaysh=i like her

cuyir gar orikih baar’ur ratiin ibic pel=Is your tiny medic always this soft?

tion'jor an te tal?=why all the blood?

vaii cuyir te sarad gar rucuyir cyau'kuyc at dinuir kaysh?=where is the flower you were excited to give her?

cuyir te baar'ur shupur'yc?= is the medic injured?

ner alor=my leader

Then there’s the usual words for nicknames and such:

Saviin’ika=Little violet

Cyare=Beloved, loved, popular

Hu’tuun=Coward

Verd=Warrior

Author’s note: Thank you all so much for the kind, supportive words on the last chapter!! Like, literally everyone has been so sweet and so supportive despite me being more inactive than usual and it seriously means the world to me?? Like I said before, I’m so excited to have more time to be active on here and interact with you all much more!! I love you all so much, hope you’re having a wonderful day, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it <33

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild  @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aeryntheofficial @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst @anakinsittinginsand @yes-music-is-my-religion​ @tangledlove27 @justrunamok @peqchynero​ @haloangel391​ @honestlystop​ @cryptkeepersoul​ @haloangel391​ @awhiskeywithawinchester *As always, if I missed anyone, please let me know ASAP!! 

[your-eternal-muse]

I’m Getting Colder

Heather Series Part 6 (Were halfway through it!)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Bonus! Readers Card Confession

Summery: Reader leaves the BAU for some personal time, and turns to her vices to deal with the voices in her head

Warnings: Description of someone falling into a deep depressive episode, self-deprecation, unhealthy coping mechanisms, description of emotional breakdown, reader is not in a good mental state so please be prepared for that before reading

Words: 1.8k (she smol)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Heather Charmical, Spencer Reid x eventual Female!Reader

A/N: So, this is not a light chapter. It’s not that long in my opinion, but it is very depressing. I do not recommend reading this if you are not in a well state of mind. Reader is very depressed, and she is falling deeper into that hole as we speak. I promise it does get better, but this chapter is just sad. I took from some personal thoughts and feelings I had when I was at a low point in my own life, which made it kind of difficult to make it any longer than I did, though I’m going to try and make the following chapters longer. I do recommend reading the bonus episode I posted, as it gives a lil insight to something said in this chapter. If you did not see, I sadly had to close both my permanent and my heather tag list, so if you are not already on there, and you want to be notified when I post a part, I suggest turning on my post notifications. Okay, that’s all. Love You!

~~~~~~~

“You really think he would love someone like You?”

“I will never love you.”

“Look at you. You’re disgusting.”

“I did love you. And then I met Heather and realized how much better she was.”

“Worthless.”

“Stupid Girl.”

“Useless.”

“UGLY!”

My eyes snap open.

My room is dark, and the sun is just barely rising over the horizon, the dim blue light leaking through my curtains.

The alarm on my phone goes off.

5:30 A.M. Meeting with Hotch at 8.

I slide my thumb across the dismiss button, and rub my face. All I want to do is go back to sleep, crawl deep under my covers and stay there until the end of time.

But I can’t.

My therapist's voice echoes through my mind.

“You’ve been through some emotional turmoil, y/n. It’s okay to take a break to get yourself better. But you need to talk to your unit chief in order for that to happen.”

So, that’s what I’m doing. I have a meeting with Hotch to discuss medical leave, where I’ll turn over my badge and gun and leave.

I sit up in bed, running a hand through my hair, trying to convince myself to get up.

Spencer comes home from his honeymoon today.

And if I haven’t been in the right head space when he hasn’t been here, then I’m definitely not okay to be shooting a gun when he is.

He called.

I didn’t answer.

He left a message.

I didn’t listen.

I don’t need to listen to him telling me that there's nothing we can do.

That it’s over.

That I have to move on.

No thanks.

I’m good.

I get up, and walk though my dark apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as I go.

I strip in the pitch black bathroom, only lighting a candle so I don’t trip and break my neck.

The water is cold, and I let it run over my spine.

I leave once my teeth are chattering.

I get out and hastily dry off, before running a brush through my hair and cleaning my teeth.

I avoid my own eyes in the medicine cabinet mirror, but they slip back, and I don’t recognize the girl staring back at me.

I blink, pressing my palm to my eye, using my other hand to open the cabinet, turning the mirror away from me, so I don’t have to look anymore.

By the time I’m dressed and ready to leave, it’s 7:15.

I grab my purse, and my keys and head out of my apartment.

Once outside, I light up a cigarette, walking the short block to where I’m parked, climbing in and cranking the heat.

I used to stop and get a bagel and coffee from the bakery around the corner, but my appetite has left me.

My smoke will suffice for breakfast.

It’s a quiet ride to Quantico.

Mornings of listening to the radio, turning up my favorite songs have all but disappeared.

I pull my chin into my chest to keep the cold from biting my nose, as I walk up to the building.

The eyes of the security guards that I used to greet each morning follow me, as I keep my gaze glued to the floor.

The warmth of the elevator is no longer welcoming.

I’m the only one in the bullpen, as I walk past desks covered in files and papers.

I knock on Hotch’s door at 7:56.

“Come in.”

We’re the first ones here, and I know any moment, the others will trickle in, and their eyes will scan and find me standing before him, through his open blinds, where they will proceed to profile and figure out why I am acting the way I am.

I enter the office, and close the door behind me.

“You didn’t give a reason for this meeting, just stating that it was urgent that we met.” He sets his pen down, and gives me his full attention. “May I ask why?”

I rub my forehead, a headache already forming. “I didn’t know what to put for a reason. Every time I thought about what to write down, it seemed stupid.”

“Y/N, if something is bothering you, it’s never stupid.”

I nod, sniffling, taking my purse off my shoulder and pulling out the note from my therapist, handing it to him.

“I need at least two weeks of mental medical leave.”

He’s quiet as he reads through the letter, looking up at me every now and then.

I look out the window, and see all their heads turn to avoid eye contact, as if they weren’t just sitting and watching the whole exchange.

I bet they’re talking about it right now.

When he’s finished, he simply folds it and places it on his desk, waiting for me to speak.

I look down at my shoes.

I know he knows.

I'm pretty sure everyone knows now.

“I can’t be around him, Hotch.” My voice is no louder than a whisper, but I know he can hear me. 

Jesus, I’m so sick of crying.

“Everything changed that night. I can’t even look at him without wanting to cry or…” I pinch the bridge of my nose again, harder, trying to distract myself from the pain.

“I can’t. At least not yet. Not now. And I’m not in the right state of mind to turn it off during the work day so we can work like a team.” I turn to look out the other window, so I don’t have to deal with the eyes.

“I just need some time to work through it. And I don’t want to put the team at risk during that time.” I shove my hands in my pocket, and bite my lip.

He nods. 

“I understand. I hope you know your job will be waiting for you when you’re ready.”

I nod, breathing in to keep the tears at bay. “I know.”

“Good. I need your badge and gun please.”

That’s when the tears start falling.

I love this Job.

I love these people.

And here I am, abandoning them all because I can’t get over myself.

Yeah because you’re weak. Letting a boy take over your life. How Pathetic.

I untie my jacket, removing my badge from the inner pocket, placing it before him on the desk. I then remove my gun from the holster from my hip, making sure the safety is on, before setting that by my badge.

He stands, as I make my way for the door, moving out of the eyesight of the others.

“Y/N,”

I stop and turn, only to be met with his arms wrapping around me. 

I fall into the embrace, so uncommon for Hotch, but oh so needed at this moment. 

Hotch is a father through and through, and right now, a father’s embrace is what I need.

“I’m always here if you need to talk. No matter what time. I’m here for you.”

I squeeze my arms around him, taking in his scent before backing away. “I know. Thank you, Hotch.”

He nods, smiling softly, before stepping back as I open the door, and walk out into the bullpen.

The team stands, unashamedly staring at me as I walk down past them.

Now including Spencer.

I hastily wipe my cheeks, and shove my hands back into my pockets, beginning to walk past them.

“Baby girl,”

“Don’t, Derek.” I spit. If he hadn’t been a dick….If i had just watched where I was going.

Spencer is closest to the door, and I turn my head away from him, not wanting to engage in anything with him.

He reaches out and grabs me by the crook of my elbow.

“Reid.” Hotch says, but Spencer’s eyes are burning into the side of my face. 

“You asked me to come and catch you.” His voice is soft, and once again, I wish someone would scream at me.

I swallow hard, and pull away from him, stepping back, retreating as far into myself as possible.

“I’m not yours to catch anymore.”

I place a hand over my mouth and practically run out of the glass doors.

I don’t stop running until I get to my car, where I collapse into the cold, and sob against the steering wheel.

“Come and catch me?”

“You asked me to come and catch you.”

He knows he’s killing me.

He has to,

He can’t say shit like that and not know.

My phone lights up with his name, and I slide my thumb across decline, before starting my car and pulling out of the parking lot.

The minutes blur by as I make my way home, just wanting to collapse into bed, and sleep away my problems.

My apartment is lighter now, but it’s still relatively dark. Light seeps through my curtains, but it doesn’t reach far.

I kick off my boots, and take off my jacket, tossing it across the counter.

A full length mirror hangs from my corridor wall, watching me. Taunting me.

“He’s just trying to talk to you.”

I pinch my eyes close. This isn’t happening. Not again.

“But you’re too selfish to accept him as anything other than a friend.”

The voice talking is high-pitched, and stings like a bell.

Heather.

“Seriously? You think he would ever want someone like you? When he could have someone like me? You’re pathetic.”

I turn to the mirror, where she stands staring back at me in the reflection.

“Shut up.”

“You are so stupid. No one wants you. No one will ever want you. The team will be so much better off without you.”

“Shut up!” My teeth grit, and I know I’m talking to a figment of my imagination, but I don’t care.

I can’t care.

“You’re so useless. You’re so stupid. You’re so pathetic. Do you know you’re the last thing on his mind? Especially when he’s deep within me, and I’m making him feel so good.”

“I said shut up!” 

I grab a stray book laying open on my counter, and throw it at the mirror, watching it shatter upon impact, the pieces looking like snow on my floor.

I bawl into my hands, leaning over my counter.

Who have I become?

I pull myself together long enough to grab the bottle of whiskey sitting open by my sink, taking a long drink from it.

With it still clutched in hand, I shuffle over to my couch which is pushed up against my windows.

I lean over the back of it, opening the one above it, the cool air freezing the tears on my face.

I set the bottle down and pick up a stray smoke, lighting up and leaning back, exhaling the smoke up into the air and out the window.

My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, seeing Spencer’s face pop up yet again.

In the photo, he’s smiling, birthday cake on his face. I hit decline.

Another swig, another hit. 

My brain is becoming fuzzy.

A text comes through from Derek.

I swipe the notification away. 

I lie down on my couch, holding a pillow close to my body, my cigarette hanging from my fingers, the bottle down on the floor next to me.

Another text.

I turn my phone off.

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[night-fallz]

Jason Todd x Avengers Crossover

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

Ao3 // Wattpad

previous II next

Unexpected (part 2)

Two days have passed since Clint was saved by Jason. And for some reason, he still can't get the vigilante out of his mind.

Natasha teased him about it but he knows that if she sees Jason in action, she would be intrigued as well.

The way he fought was mesmerizing. Every bullet that was shot was so precisely aimed that the wounds weren't deadly.

Sure it knocked them out, but they weren't gonna die.

That form of marksmanship was only earned through years of hard work. And Clint's worked with Bucky enough times to know that Jason somehow predicted the next move of the attackers, aiming at the non-lethal body parts.

He has a feeling that Bucky and Jason would make an incredible duo.

Which is why he needs them to meet.

Clint doesn't usually do this but the more he thought about the bucket-wearing vigilante, the higher his list of questions got.

He took out his phone, leaning against the couch as he searched for the man that saved him.

vigilante wearing red bucket

He scrolled through google trying to find a decent article on the guy.

After thirty whole minutes of barely finding information, Clint wanted to throw his phone across the room. So far, all he's figured out was that Jason's territory was in Gotham and that his vigilante name is 'Red Hood'.

Which was... creative in a way?

At least it wasn't 'Red Bucket' or 'Bucket Head' or anything like that. It was definitely better than 'Green Arrow'.

After another failed search, he decided to finally give up. There was nothing about Red Hood. All the articles were mainly about Batman, Nightwing, a restaurant place, and a Robin!

He groaned and put his face in his hands. He doesn't care about those overrated heroes, he wants to find out more about Red Hood.

The guy was so cool... he wonders why there were barely any pieces written about him. The few sentences that he's read about the vigilante almost always depicted him in a bad light.

Which was honestly unfair.

He stared at his phone, contemplating on whether or not he should ask Natasha.

On the positive side, he knows that the assassin would have information on Red Hood. Natasha has information on everyone.

But...

Clint didn't want Natasha to tease him even more! If she keeps up with the sarcastic comments then the other Avengers would be curious. And curious Avengers meant nosy people.

He felt himself shiver, really nosy people.

He swears that if he had a sister— older or younger, they would act exactly like how Natasha was acting right now.

He could practically imagine the smirk she was wearing on her face when she picked up.

"Hey, Clint." she casually greeted, "How are you?"

He refrained from gritting his teeth, "I'm doing good." he paused, eyes closing as he took a breath in, this hurt to admit. "I need your help."

"I know."

"What do you know about the Red Hood?"

"The Red Hood?" she hummed under her breath, "Let's see."

Clint heard her moving things around, then he could distinctly hear the noise of paper being flipped. "Do you just have documents of random vigilantes lying around your room?" he couldn't help but ask. "Is this an assassin thing?"

Does Bucky do this too?

"I'm getting you the information you need." she reminded, "How I keep track of the data I have is none of your business."

"Okay, okay." he surrendered, a smile making its way onto his face. "But why don't you just keep it on a computer? Wouldn't that make things easier for you?"

She ignored his question, "Red Hood is an excellent marksman," she stated. "He made his debut as a crime lord by showing a bunch of people a duffel bag filled with the heads of notorious criminals."

Clint let out a whistle, "That is an intense introduction. He's even better than I thought he would be."

"Yeah," Natasha agreed. "He's easily one of the most dangerous and capable vigilantes in Gotham. In a matter of months, he's managed to bring crime down Crime Alley by at least fifty percent. Something that Batman himself, couldn't do. His methods were vicious, but they worked. Extremely well. He's killed a lot of child molesters, human traffickers, and rapists."

Even though Natasha couldn't see him, he tilted his head to the side, biting the inside of his cheek. Clint could care less about what methods Jason used. If they worked, they worked. And it's not like those criminals didn't deserve it. It's just-

Killing takes a lot out of you. Especially when you're young. Clint would know.

He had no doubt in his head that Jason was an incredible fighter. Not to mention that he was also huge— in both height and muscle.

He can see why he has a majority of Gotham fooled.

But, for about a minute, after they won against the ninjas, Jason removed his helmet in order to get a breath of fresh air.

A mask might've been covering his eyes, but Clint's been in the vigilante business for years now. He remembers clear as day, just how young the vigilante looked under the sun.

When Clint first started, he was thankful that he had Natasha to talk to whenever things got hard. Whenever he felt guilty for taking someone's life. No matter how much they deserved it.

Hell, he's still thankful for Natasha now. Without her, Clint would probably be dead. His body found bleeding out in an abandoned area, a neat row of scars on his thighs and arms.

He hopes that Jason has a friend like Natasha. Someone who'd be there for him no matter what. Someone who'd remind him that he was worth it. That he was loved.

Cause if not, then there is no way that the kid is okay.

Natasha's sharp voice interrupted his thoughts, "That was a few years ago. As far as I know, he doesn't kill anymore. The farthest that Hood would go now would be to permanently cripple someone. And even then, he would only do that when the person did something unforgivable."

After a few seconds of silence, Clint opened his mouth. "Is that it?" he couldn't help but question.

"Nope," Natasha admitted. "But it's all I'm willing to tell you."

"Fine then," he smirked. "Keep your assassiny secrets. I got more than I expected anyways."

"What did you get yourself into, Clint? Why all the sudden interest in him? Why all the sudden interest in a vigilante in Gotham?"

He knows that Natasha was just looking out for him. She was worried. "Do you remember a few days ago when I was saved by this Jason guy?" he asked.

"Yeah? You've been talking about him nonstop. He saved your ass and you gave him your number." she paused before adding, "Your private one."

He nodded, "Yeah. Well, he's the Red Hood."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. I searched him up and he had the same costume and everything."

"And he actually said that his name was Jason?"

"Yep." he tried to casually say, "It's probably cause Jason's a popular name and stuff."

"Maybe." Natasha hesitantly agreed, "But anyway, since you gave him your number, I think you should know that I've always wanted to meet him so if he texts you soon..."

Her voice trailed off and Clint couldn't hold in his sigh, "Yeah, yeah. I'll arrange a meet-up or whatever."

Her voice automatically brightened, "Actually?"

The corner of his mouth lifted, "Sure. But I wanted to introduce him to Bucky first."

Natasha made a shocked sound of betrayal, "Wha- but Clint!" she whined, "I'm the one who's asking. Not him."

"I know."

It took everything in him to stop the laugh from escaping his mouth.

Complaints about how unfair Clint was being made their way onto his ears and he relished each and every one of them. It wasn't often that he had something Natasha wanted.

Revenge was sweet.

After a few minutes, he let out an incredibly fake gasp. "Sorry, Natasha. I gotta go. I have a kitchen emergency."

"What the fuck, Clint." she demanded, "You don't even know how to cook. Remember the omelet incident? What emerg-"

He hung up.

Clint's definitely going to regret ending the call later. He knows it.

But right now, he could care less.

He has something Natasha wants, so she won't murder him.

... hopefully.

He hopes that he runs into the vigilante soon. Jason was cool and pretty fun to talk to. Clint definitely won't mind fighting at Red Hood's side once more.

They worked really well together.

While they were fighting, he knew that Jason was gonna have his back. He knew that Jason wasn't gonna let him get hurt. It was weird, considering that was the first encounter he's ever had with him.

He doesn't know when Jason is gonna decide to use his number, but he hopes that it'll be soon.

He has questions. And whenever Jason was ready, Clint hopes that he can answer.

Starting with the one that's been clouding his head; why did the Red Hood stop killing?

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

notes:

okay, I didn’t expect to write a chapter this soon. but reading all the comments you guys left on the previous chapter motivated me. to be honest, I didn’t expect this fanfic to get as many hits as it did.

I don’t know when I’m planning on posting this chapter but right now, my goal is to write as much as I can.

I also don’t know exactly how busy my sophomore year of high school will be, but I feel like it’s better to be safe than sorry. Especially if I make the school volleyball team.

I finished writing this chapter on August 8th, and I have tryouts on the 9th through the 11th from 4-6 pm. (wish me luck!)

like always, please, please, please, leave a comment. i love reading them and they just motivate me so much! Whenever I get author’s block, I just re-read them and they help so, so much. If you don’t wanna leave a comment, that’s fine. If you liked this fanfic, please hit that kudos button though.

and if you just wanna chat or if you want to request any ideas or prompts, just message me here.

ooh, and if there’s anything specific you want to read in this series, please tell me. It never hurts to have any extra ideas. plus, I really want to make this fic more enjoyable for everyone.

[hawklanthebard]

Fractured Diamond Chapter 4

(TW: Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault)

Mondo didn't know how long he sat there. He could see no indication of light anywhere in the room, although the cloth tied around his eyes didn't help either. The gang figured a blindfold would provoke more fear, thus better reactions, better screams. Not that it would even matter, Mondo couldn't even see if he wanted to. His left eye was swollen shut, and his right was sealed under a thick line of blood from his forehead. He figured the gang preferred it anyway for twisted aesthetic purposes. The cement chamber had proven to be soundproof, so it wasn't like he could call for help anyway, his throat felt like sandpaper. Every breath he was forced to take was agonizing, even shallow ones were labor. Every time his chest expanded was as if his ribs were stabbing him through his lungs and sides, fractures creaking against each other like an old wooden door. Breathing through his mouth would result in him gagging blood from where his rear teeth used to be, only furthering his burning chest. Breathing through his nose was his only choice, forcing him to take in the horrid stench of blood, sweat, and urine that lingered in the air. He remembered their jeers before leaving him in his "pigsty". He should've been humiliated, but breathing was taking up all the energy he had left. 

No one was coming for him. And why would they? What samaritan would wanna fought off one of the most dangerous gangs in Japan to save some lowly biker who probably screwed them over somehow? Was this the price for being in a gang? For being a Diamond? No, he wasn't a Diamond. Not anymore. Or maybe he never was. 

'Just a shiny piece of glass, shiny piece of glass, shiny piece of glass...'

Intrusive thoughts were nothing new to Mondo they were his only company at this time. Every taunting word stuck to his brain like a hair on honey. Not once did he try to shake them out. At first, he did, but eventually learned to like it. Like a dog learning his name, Mondo learned his place in the world. 

A faint but alerting metal clashing against a concrete wall crawled its way through Mondo's intrusive thoughts, he was too familiar with it by now. His body instinctively curled in on itself as much as his bindings and injuries would allow, which wasn't much, prepared to take whatever beating he was about to receive.

'...notadiamondnotadiamonddnotadiamondnotadiamondnotadiamond...'

Mondo wheezed in a small whimper as inside and outside voices blended in his skull. "..Okay...I...I get it..!" he slurred in a half-sob "I...I'm not a Diamond..! Okay..?! I get it...! You were right..!"

'notadiaMondnotadiamOndnotadiamoNdnotadiamonDnotadiamOnd..'

He jumped as something or someone grazed his bruised face. He cried out as loud as his broken ribs would let him. "S-stop...! I'm sorry, okay?! Jus...just lemme...lemme...d..!"

"--MONDO!"

He felt something touch his cheek again, but something felt different. Familiar. He hadn't realized his blindfold had been removed when he forced his swollen eye to open. He almost believed what he saw was real. 

Daiya, his brother, standing before him at eye level. His figure was silhouetted from the illuminated doorway, but there was no doubt it was him, Mondo recognized those sunset-orange eyes anywhere, glistening like dim but burning embers. But something was off about his face. It seemed to be stretched in an expression Mondo wasn't familiar with. Panic? That wasn't a face Daiya was known for. He always kept a cool front, no matter how fucked the situation was. His thick, black eyebrows were always furrowed, and his lips in a permanent half-smile to assure anyone he's ready to take on anything. So why does he look so scared? Mondo could see his lips moving, and it only took a moment to finally snap out of his daze and hear his brother.

"--ondo! Can you hear me?" he moved Mondo's crimson-caked bangs from over his eye, and Mondo was finally able to open it. 

"Gnhh...D-Daiya..?" he said in a hoarse whisper

Daiya rested his chin on his chest as he heaved a brief sigh of relief. "Thank god, thought I lost ya there, Lil bro." he half-chuckled, "It's okay, you're safe. We're gonna get you out."

'We?', Mondo thought.

As if hearing his thoughts, Daiya turned behind him and called out. "Michi, guys, he's over here! Come help me out with this!" 

"Got it!"

Another voice. Mondo recognized it; Takemichi, their youngest brother. Mondo was still trying to fathom it all, but there wasn't any room for doubt. This was all real, happening right before him, and he could not be more ashamed. 

Takemichi's darkened figure appeared through the doorway and froze where he stood, eyes fixed on Mondo. "Holy shit..." he breathed. Michi hasn't been in the gang for very long, probably less than a year now. He was still a middle schooler, still had some childlike innocence in him that was reignited after he ran away from his abusive household and found a new home with the Diamonds. Daiya wanted to preserve that innocence as much as possible, keeping Michi away from the action when things got bloody. So much, he wanted the boy to stay at the base while they rescued Mondo, but his stubbornness was like that of an ox. He was a Diamond, after all. Most times, Mondo believed him to be more so than himself.

An orchestra of boots stomping grew heavier and heavier until the room was flooded with Diamonds, all exchanging looks of shock and even concern when they saw the room and Mondo's fragile form. It was overwhelming, for them to see Mondo so pathetically mounted like this, like a prisoner, the fact that this image of him will be burned into their brains forever, Mondo felt as though he could just die right then and there if the universe showed him a glimmer of mercy. 

"Woah, stand back, guys." Takemichi directed the other gang members, "Give him some air. We only need a few men in here."

Daiya peeked over his shoulder to meet eyes with the gang. "You heard 'im. Clear out," he said in a stern tone, firm enough to command his team but soft enough not to frighten Mondo. Understanding the order, most of the members left while only a select few remained. Michi turned to Mondo and have him a reassuring smile before going to help Daiya. 

Mondo felt the two crouched on each side under his arms as the other Diamonds cut through the rope binding his wrists. Losing the support of the rope, he fell and would've crashed onto the concrete if Daiya and Michi weren't ready to catch him. He wished it was comforting as it was, but their support reignited his bodily pain. Crouching forward brought agony to his ribs, but straightening up burned the cuts on his back. He let out a dry painful groan. As if remembering, Daiya quickly reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a water bottle, offering it to Mondo's lips. Mondo winced at the sight of the object, visions of past events screamed in his head, but his thirst screamed louder as he chugged the bottle. 

"Woah, hey. Easy, bro, easy." Daiya cooed softly, as he directed Mondo to drink slower. He didn't blame him one bit but knew Mondo would only feel worse if he chugged it. Taking his time savoring the liquid, Mondo had finished the bottle, sighing a relaxed breath as best as his burning lungs would allow. 

Daiya returned the empty bottle to his pocket. He gazed at the rope still loosely binding Mondo's wrists and gently removed them. He winced at the raw ligature wounds, old and new blood alike, coating Mondo's skin. He heard Mondo weakly hiss in pain. He only dared to look at the rest of his body. That didn't matter now, the only thing that did was getting his brother out of this hellhole. "I'm sorry, bro..." he breathed softly. 

Letting Mondo's head rest wearily on his shoulder, Daiya scooped him up in his arms as if he were carrying him to bed when Mondo was a little kid. As they left the room, Mondo felt Daiya nonchalantly step over something, probably some fallen furniture, though judging by the disgruntled expression plastered on Daiya's face and the faint groan under his feet, Mondo figured it was more like someone. The hallway was littered with limp beaten figures of Reapers, only Diamonds standing above them, pinning them down under their feet, giving them a boot to the face if they so much as twitch. Mondo glanced at Daiya's bruised and bloodied knuckles. Of course, his brother wouldn't go on without caving in a few faces of his own. Daiya stopped in his tracks when heard a wet cough behind him, his scowl grown deeper.

"Hey, Owada..!" Several feet away from the Diamond leader lay the grey-clad Reaper leader, beaten and broken. One of the larger Diamonds stood above him with his foot on his neck, although judging by the man's unnaturally bent knee, it was apparent he couldn't return to his feet even if he wanted to, the stance was more for physical empowerment than provided security. The grey man spat out a few bloodied teeth before continuing. "How does it feel...when you lose a brother..?" he wheezed painfully but sternly. "Bet it makes ya feel...fuckin' powerless, knowin' you... coulda done some'in ta prevent it..! My brother...is gone...and so's...yer's. Tell me...how does it feel..?"

Daiya stood strong and firm as a diamond, his expression hadn't faltered. Barely even breathed.

The grey man growled, face contorted in hatred. "What? Ya don't remember me..?" his scowl turned into a sinister smirk. "He does."  

Daiya glanced down at Mondo's body curling up in reminiscent fear. He could only pray those words had an empty meaning. Still, he couldn't help but recall how fragile and painfully Mondo fell to his knees as if he were suffering from a terrible stomach ache. Bile crept up Daiya's throat. 

The man noticed the reaction and his grimace twisted further, showing bloodied teeth. "He knows my name. I...made sure...he never forgets it. He was...beggin' me ta stop, y'know. Beggin' for you...ta save 'im. His whimpers were so...beautifully pathetic. I wish...I recorded it for ya. But I figured it'd be better if ya...imagined it yerself. If ya didn't...drag ya feet, maybe...he'd still be your brother. But now...he's my pet." he let out a wet chuckle as he saw Mondo tremble like a leaf in Daiya's tensed arms. "Go on, boy...tell 'im..! Jog 'is memory..! Say my--" 

"Sasaki!"

Came a deep voice. Mondo would've thought he said that if his throat wasn't already so torn up from screaming that cursed name, his lips couldn't even form the word. He looked up at his brother's discontented face. Surely, he didn't. Another wet laugh from behind. A sharp pain shot through Mondo's heart. 

"So, you do know! Good boy!" the grey man cackled. "Try an' remember that now...! Remember the name...of the man who destroyed you and your brother..! I would say we're even...but there's no reason I can't still have fun with your gang..!" Daiya could feel Sasaki's eyes shift over to Takemichi. "Like him. He's fresh. Doesn't matter if 'e's...just a kid...He's in a gang...an' is better to...learn the hard way. Are you broken yet, Daiya Owada? Or do I...have--"

"Just shut the fuck up and listen, Reaper," Daiya growled, making it clear he wasn't finished talking. The grey man listened on, slightly disappointed at the white-clad man's retaliation. Daiya turned to gaze down at the man with eyes burning like the sun.

"I killed your brother Chisaki." his words flew from his mouth as if it were the most natural thing ever to be said. No hesitation, no remorse, not even a hint of regret. Mondo blinked and looked up at his brother. He couldn't remember the last time Daiya said something so cold, or if he ever heard him speak that way at all. Still, Daiya's eyes hadn't left his target. 

"He didn't seem to get my last message about staying out of our turf. He knew what he was risking when he crossed our path. And he paid for it. I pulled the alarms, I alerted the cops, and I left you all to die. I trust you and your colleagues have enough pattern recognition not to follow in his footsteps. Do what your brother couldn't do, and stay out of our way. If I ever see you or any Reapers on the streets again, it's kill on sight. Consider this business and personal." 

The grey man shuddered but let out a low, blood-curdling growl. "Do it, then!" he coughed and wheezed. "I ain't goin' nowhere, so...ya might wanna finish the job now! Kill me, an' there'll be no more Reapers, no one ta take my place..! So, do it! Kill me!" 

Daiya didn't turn back, nor did he respond. He just walked away, his gang followed, leaving the grey man broken on the ground. 

"Come back an' finish this like a man, Daiya Owada!" Sasaki cried, struggling to pry himself from the floor but to no avail. He heaved in one shaky breath after another as something wet splashed on his hand. 

Daiya heard one last pathetic scream as the door slammed behind him.

"OWADA!" 

[nooowestayandgetcaught]

ALL 40 BAYBEE!!!!! GIMME SUM ANSWERS

5) Share one of your strengths.

Being,,, prolific?? ?????? ??? ???????????

6) Share one of your weaknesses.

My own mind. No really I'm basically my own worst enemy because I'm too much of a perfectionist and hate myself and mess myself up.

7) Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Stars are the many, many eyes left behind of the Old Gods.

Arya heard this before. She's heard that the stars are the last of the Weeping Lady's tears. They are the eternally bleeding wounds of the Great Shepard according to the Dothraki. They are the drops of poison given to Baelor the Beloved as he laid asleep. They are the immortal sparks of R'hallor's breath. Arya believes the stars are nothing. They exist in a chasm of darkness and death, and no-one is meant to understand why.

Evermore (T, Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Game of Thrones, 1179 words)

I HAD A LOT OF FUN GOING THROUGH WESTOROS MYTHOLOGY AND TALES IN HISTORY TO MAKE THAT PART. AND THEN WRITING OUT ARYA'S THOUGHTS ABOUT THAT.

8) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

"I liked this shirt, you know," Will complains faintly.

Behind him, one of the car-windows rattle. A badly burned hand emerges from the smoke, clawing helplessly.

"We will find you another," Hannibal tells him, disregarding the murderer's intense, gagging screams.

"That's not the point."

"You're holding on needlessly to the limited value of your material possessions, Will. That's not like you." Hannibal lightly clucks his tongue as if disapproving, approaching him and thumbing down Will's jaw. He's warm and wet, and glorious. He's evolving.

"Says the man who buys Patek Philippe wristwatches," Will retorts softly. "For his own pleasure."

The corner of Hannibal's mouth smirks.

"And what kind of pleasure exists within your mind's eye right now, Will?"

"Ripping out your jugular vein with my teeth," Will murmurs, stroking his lambskin-gloved thumb against Hannibal's neck.

"I would be honored."

The Crescendo Of Dying Screams (M, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal (TV), 908 words)

THIS IS JUST FUN!!! THEY WERE FUN TO WRITE FOR AGAIN AND I HAVE NOT WRITTEN FOR HANNIGRAM IN A WHILE!!

13) What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Even if you think it sucks,,,, write it down anyway and then fix it later. The important part is to write and start writing.

14) What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

Thankfully,,, I don't think I've come across any yet.

15) If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

I would love to see Perambulate (G, Princess Bubblegum/Marceline & Prince Gumball/Marshall Lee, Adventure Time, 1358 words) done in a comic at least because I NEED THESE TWO CANON COUPLES TO MEET AND BE SILLY. CANON WLW AND MLM.

16) If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

NOT REALISTIC. I DO NOT FUNCTION LIKE THAT

17) Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I start out from beginning to ending but sometimes I gotta skip around to keep it going if I get stuck.

18) Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

*shrugs*

19) Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

It's probably a little moth trapped in a jar and beating itself senselessly against the glass, but it kind of enjoys it??

20) Describe your perfect writing conditions.

Wrapped in a blanket, alone in my room with headphones and music blasting, with a large water bottle and a little bit of chocolate.

21) How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Depends really! Sometimes I'll go through and correct once, and sometimes I will go through like 14 times in one day!

24) Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

I have! I will upload it again sometime but like,,,,, the person I had made it for in an AO3 fest basically fucked off and me removing it was me going "nah fuck this,,,, it ain't yours anymore!!!"

27) How do you feel about collaborations?

I have done them! I think they're nice! I do not like long term collaboration projects but for a oneshot, yes!

28) Share your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

@glove23 - I look up to this fic writer so much! They have been battling depression and anxiety, and the complexities of their ADHD, for such a long time and whenever they post something,,, I get so excited! I'm really proud of them! It's hard enough for me to write on a bad mental health day, and I know the struggle they go through, and it's INCREDIBLE to see what they can do! They have been writing since they were young and it really shows how much they love writing and how hard they work on getting the characterization and dialogue to be spot on! Obsessed with their work! (AO3)

@not-so-mundane-after-all-97 - What a powerhouse! Incredible writing and fantastic handling of how she structures plot! Constantly in awe of the ideas she has and when they are well-executed (and they are all of the time)! If you are a fan of Will/Lyra from HDM, this is the person to go to for quality! I promise! (AO3)

other writers I really like are @spookywitchnerd24, @theschubita, @anxiouss-princess, @asajjvxntress, @kingburu, @rapha-writes

29) If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

ngl I really wanna do the "they get back from horse riding and Aleksander refuses to leave Alina's side while she's getting healed" sequel to you are too well tangled in my soul by @glove23

31) Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

Meh. It depends on the thing I'm writing.

32) How do you feel about smut?

I write it all of the time and read it all of the time. I don't think it's a big deal at all. I respect that it's uncomfy for a lot of people

33) How do you feel about crack?

It's fun! And it can be done well! I saw more crack fic being done back in,,,, like the early 00s and now I don't see it as much,,,,, sad

34) What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

You know what,,, I was just discussing the psychology of why noncon fic is so popular on AO3 (and I have written it before and to my surprise IT GETS THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS OF VIEWS) and,,, I think the key components to answering this question is understanding that 1) AO3 allows noncon fic to exist therefore it's a dumping ground and 2) rape culture is so embedded into US-centric society especially and 3) there's a lot of traumatized people on AO3 and likely creating noncon to process what happened to them and 4) it's a taboo subject and humanity has been drawn to and obsessed with what is taboo since forever,,,, and tbh the taboo is fascinating to me! It does draw me in! I have written for it and I've read it, and I think it's important to ask questions and examine why we do this!

35) Would you ever kill off a canon character?

HELL YEAH. ABSOLUTELY. I HAVE DONE IT BEFORE AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN!! I prefer more "oh my god they're dead--OH! now they're alive! yayyyyy!" over permanent character death

36) Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3. AO3 is queen. I'm not gonna badmouth FFN and Wattpad in terms of people who go there because that's your business however FFN and Wattpad are largely restrictive and mainstream corporate owned areas of interest that don't give a single shit about their users.

38) Talk about a review that made your day.

Whenever my writer friends comment on my fic,,, I literally get emotional. Like those are my favorite comments to see :)

39) Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

BE SAD FOR HALF A SECOND AND THEN FIGHT.

[yandere-wishes]

Aquaphobia //Yandere Leviathen x reader//

Oh, have I never mentioned that I am MORTIFIED of water and literally any sea creatures...no? It must have slipped my mind.

For this story, I'm making a few assumptions. 1) Levi can turn into some sort of sea monster-like thing I'm assuming it looks like a cross between a Megladon/Giant squid/ Sea serpent. 2) He can communicate with sea creatures. 3) The giant horrifying aquarium that basically makes up his back wall is in reality linked to either an ocean or somewhere that houses a bunch of dangerous sea beings. 4) In addition to sea animal communication Levi posses Aquakinesis

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

For as long as you can remember water has always haunted you.

The large bodies of H2O particles have never failed to shake you to your very core. 

In every single nightmare you ever recall, you are drowning in one of those shallow blue celestial bodies. The colorless liquid invading your mouth, clawing its way to where your lungs rested, joyously filling and choking them. 

Sea roamers of all kinds flocked to your drowning corps, millions of eyes drinking in your defenseless form, from the beady black shark eyes to the yellow cyclops eye of a giant squid. A fraction of a second later and those beastes were sinking their fangs into your tender flesh, large tentacles wrapping themselves around an arm or leg and tugging it until it detached from the rest of your corps. 

But in the end, you always woke up, always resumed your day as if nothing had come to pass the night before, back then you knew that it was only a nightmare....however this time you weren't so sure. 

Out of all seven brothers you'd always dreaded Leviathan the most. You had nothing against his "otaku" like ways or his unkempt appearance. No, it was simply what he was that made you keep your distance. 

Yet the third born seemed to have other plans for you. Leviathan hates "normies", the average demons and humans that overpopulate the earth, mocking those like him who have hobbies and likings that are "abnormal" in their eyes, forcing them to live shameful lives of isolation. Due to the superiority of normies in all three realms Levi had never once come across someone as abnormal as himself...that was until the new exchange student had arrived. At first, they had seemed to be just like anyone else, a normal human with absolutely nothing extravagant about them. But as time progressed Levi became aware of just how similar the two of them were. She would spend hours talking to Mammon about the newest anime or the latest level of the video game she was playing. Her tone was always so excited and pure, eyes gleaming and radiating happiness. But Mammon never understood, he simply scuffed and made some degrading comment about her being a nerd or worst then Levi. 

Maybe it was then and there that Levi had decided you were the one. That if anybody angel, demon or human would ever understand him, ever be this alike to him, it would be you, it had to be.

You didn't want to go to his room. You'd avoided it like the plague after Mammon had described the bathtub bed and giant aquarium that drew its water from one of the Devildom's massive oceans. The avatar of greed had even vividly described how the ceiling tiles could pull away, reveling yet another large aquarium for a roof. 

It sounded worst than any haunted house, a place you would never dare venture into. But this time you didn't have a choice, try as you may you couldn't get out of this. 

Earlier that day you'd awaken to something cold and yet trailing down your visage. The mere texture of the substance had jolted you from your slumber, the fear of the colorless liquid had bounded itself deep into your body's habits and subconscious. Eyes dilate, body frozen, tears at the brink of falling. A moist want reached out and cupped your chin, turning your neck too briskly that you were sure you heard a few bones "pop". A squeal escaped your lips only to be met with an instantaneous "shh, be quiet".  Your (eye color) orbs landed on the third born, his eyes housed a sort of sick glee it matched the sadistic twisted smirk he dawned on his face. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your veins, maybe it was the fact that you'd just awoken and your brain was still partly asleep. Either way, you could have sworn that Leviathan's teeth had somehow changed. They where long and jagged, bending at roots were they sprouted from his gums, to top off the horror thin lines of thick juicy crimson highlighted the tips and betweens of his shark life teeth. 

By now you had begun to sob, tears flowing non stop from your puffy red eyes. Your body was frozen you dared not move, vocal cords had given up and your tongue laid dead at the bottom of your mouth.

"Hello, princess sleep well?" Despite it seeming so innocent there was a sort of mocking laced into the question.

You noticed something in his other hand. A large familiar blue-colored plushy with a gasmask was suffocating in this grasp. That was a rare collectible you'd somehow managed to win from a Crain game back in the human world. You never slept a night without, feeling safe whenever you held it in your embrace. When you'd arrived in the Devildom you'd practically begged Lucifer to retrieve it for you. It had taken all so many tears and tantrums, in addition, to agree to take over his chores for the course of two months. The day the firstborn had carelessly tossed it to you, had probably been the second happiest day of your life. 

Levi let out a cruel giggle as he brought your prized possession closer to your face. His long nails dug into the fabric of its forehead as he dangled it before your eyes. "It's kinda cute, what show is it from?" This time round he sounded genuin, no inanity to be heard. Yet you didn't speak still petrified and stiff. 

One heartbeat

two heartbeats

three heartbeats--

"Fine! What you won't talk to me cause you think you're better than me?!" You shook your head slowly, the gesture barely being noticeable. Yet he picked up on it. He let out another string of offensive giggles "You're scared, right? Afraid the big bad sea monster will eat you?". Oh, God how desperately you wished you could run. Find Mammon or Lucifer and cling to them. To find any means to get away from this monster. 

His fingers fell from your face, he turned without saying another word and made his way to the door. As he opened it, he called behind his shoulder. " If you want it back, come to my room at midnight and come alone" He then slammed the door abandoning you to your thoughts and terrors. 

In short, that was why you were standing in front of the door that would lead you to your personal hell. You had no desire to step foot into his room and yet it was the sole means to retrieving your stuffed monster. Hesitantly you lifter your hand to knock, your finger had not touched the wood when the door creaked open and something slithered around your arm and dragged you into Leviathan's room. 

"I-I'm h-here know p-please give it back--"

Your back collided with the cold tiled floor. You let out a scream of pain before Levi's hand was shoved over your mouth. 

"Be quiet would ya?" His orange and purple orbs gazed into your wide mortified eyes. He let out a sigh and his gaze softened. "(Y/N)...I-I've never felt this way about anyone before...well maybe Ruri-chan and Sugar Frenzy's lead singer for a short period of time, oh and this one...nevermind! Look I-I feel like your something different okay. I g-guess that I have a little crush on you. Noting big alright! But-but what do you say (Y/N) will yo be mine? We'd make a great couple! We like the exact samethings, share practically the same opinions. We are meant to be one!" Slowly he lifted his hand from your mouth, an excited smile playing at his lips, his eyes sparkled with joy and exhilaration. Maybe if you'd have time to think this trough you would have felt bad about what you next words where. 

The second his hand was removed from your mouth you shouted.

"NO! No no no no no! Never! I can't I just can't your a freaking sea monster you--"

No sooner had the words left your mouth that you felt your head accelerate forward and then get smashed on the wet hard floor. The notion repeated again and again. You where sure you were bleeding, some sort of concussion must have formed, your sight was blurry and spots were dancing everywhere. 

"You stupid normi! You tricked me! I thought you were like me! That would actually love someone like me! You made me freaking fall in love with you, you bitch!" 

He twisted your head to the side and pushed your face into the floor. "You're scared of water aren't you? Your sacred of what lives in the water too right? Is that why you don't love me (y/n)? Cause I'm some sort of water freak? Well? Damit answer me!"

"Yes" you choked out "y-yes L-Leviathan, I'm scared of you!" He let out a furious sigh, his tail wrapped around your neck and hosted you up pressing you into the glass of the aquarium. An odd noise filled to room, something alike to buzzing yet..somehow very different. "You know what's funny (y/n)? I may be some sort of freak, but I'm also the only thing keeping you safe from the horrors behind the class." 

Something was swimming closer and closer, it's figure getting bigger and bigger. The teeth and large snout and hulking dorsal fins soon became evident what was coming toward you. You screamed, the noise echoed and bounced from one wall to the next. Your throat started to bleed and go raw, your mind blank with the loud ringing of alarms or was that your heart trying to break your ribcage and runaway?

As the monstrous shark swam only a few centimeters away from the glass, you could feel the sensitivity and life drain from your corpse, blackness taking over. You tried to remain awake to grip on to conscious, darkness was not friendly for it only showed the monsters face, the image burned permanently into your brain. 

As you slipped away into a stygian dream world, Levi brought your limp body to his chest cradling you gently and sweetly kissing your forehead. He waved a hand dismissively at his "pet" and watched for a second as it swam away. He lifted you up and brought you over to his bed. Placing you carefully inside. He placed your stuffy next to you and stood up admiring the aesthetic of your sleeping form. You were so gorgeous when you weren't scared or defensive. 

"You're mine (y/n), finally! I'm never going to let anyone else come near.. you never!"

[98prilla]

Caught

A Tiny Mer Patton and human scientist Logan one shot, cause why not? quarantine is really leading to an uptick in my writing.

He ached. It hurt all over, he hurt all over. He gasped for every breath, his gills flaring with each one, and his eyes burned with tears. 

 The wire mesh netting bit into his skin, into his scales, tangled around him so tightly there was no chance of wriggling out.  

 The cold, salty air stung against the slowly bleeding cuts where the metal bit into his flesh, but that wasn’t the worst of it. 

 The worst was the agony pulsing through his tail as the wind and the air slowly dried it out. Every scale was aflame with white hot pain sending spots dancing across his vision. 

 Ocean, he had to, had to, get back to the water. He tried to move, to blindly propel himself closer to the tide line with his tail, but the effort left him dizzy and nearly unconscious. 

 He realized he could hear the alarm call common among his kind, the high, unwavering note no human could manage, warning of danger. Calling for help. 

 He was too far gone to realize he was the one calling. He didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. He barely felt himself being picked up, flailing weakly at the hands on him. But he didn’t have the strength left to struggle.  

 Then he felt the cool, endless, relief of water, water on his tail, water surrounding him. He let out a soft sob of relief as the burning ache began to fade, the last string tying him to consciousness snapping. 

   He shoots awake. Pain is ripping through his tail, and he gasps, trying to find the air to sing, but another stab of pain through his arm leaves him whimpering instead. He manages to open his eyes and regrets it immediately. 

 Towering over him is a human. Its hands are pressing him down, and he flinches as he sees the shine of a knife. He manages a low trill of distress, of please don’t hurt me, but he doesn’t have the strength to make it a command, and his singing has never been strong enough to entrap a human, anyways. The human's eyes seem to gleam in the light and before the knife comes down, he faints. 

  He wakes slowly. Water. He’s in saltwater. He is floating in kelp, tangled around it in his usual sleeping position. He looks down, happiness blooming in his chest. The wire netting is gone, he can move freely. The pattern of it is still traced into his skin in red lines, across his tail, but they barely ache, now. 

 And his scales… his vibrant, sky blue, silvery scales, are wet and bright and not dried out. He lets out a little giggle of amazement, swishing his tail in the water. Without a second thought, he shoots through the water like a rocket. 

 And crashes painfully against some invisible barrier. His heart sinks and the amazement of moments before turns bitter and sour in his mouth. 

 No no no no no.   

 He flips around, zooming through the water, letting out a hiss of pain as he slams into another barrier. He rockets through the water, pinging off of glass at every turn, until his shoulders are bruised purple from his efforts. 

 With a sob, he sinks down to the bottom of this prison. His tail is curled under him, and his arms are wrapped around himself as he doubles over from the sorrow. 

 He’ll never see the ocean again. He'll never swim freely again. Never play with the baby turtles, snuggle with the otters, see the endless, impossible blue of the sky meeting the sea again. 

 He knows this. Humans are greedy, curious creatures. He is something new, something rare, and they will never let him go. He will waste away in this cage. He will die here and Virgil- 

 He breaks, letting out a choking, keening elegy because he will never see Virgil again, never feel the much larger mer's gentle hands cradling him to sleep, never hear his sarcastic wit or soft concern and Virgil will never know where he has gone. Will think him dead. He has lost everything. Because of his own carelessness, he has lost everything.

 He startles as he hears something. Looking up, be realizes he can see through the barriers, into a room. 

 There’s a bed, a desk, a large bookshelf. Papers are scattered across the desk. He shudders as he sees a few detailed drawings of himself. He will be studied, then, a specimen, an experiment. 

 Then there are large green eyes staring at him. Quickly, he darts away, finding a hiding place among the rocks, out of sight. His heart is pounding and his hands are shaking and he is afraid, afraid, afraid. 

 “Logan Croft, observation record, day 2. The" a sigh “merperson has awoken. It hid as soon as I entered. It appears to have recovered from the injuries, and based on the speed of movement and fluidity, its tail has suffered no permanent damage. I have replicated what I have deduced to be its natural environment, based on its visible traits. It appeared afraid, not unexpected. I will attempt to feed it later and will continue to record any behavioral observations.” He hears a sigh. Peeking out from behind the rocks, he sees the human, Logan, leaning back in his desk chair, staring up at the ceiling. 

 He hides again before the human can look his way. He is going to stay as hidden as possible. Maybe if he isn’t interesting, the human will give up on studying him and let him go. It’s so little, too little, but it’s something to cling to.

 “Observation day 3, little change in the creature’s attitude. It is still hiding, and appears to sleep wrapped in kelp, so it doesn’t float away.”

 He remembers the first time Virgil swam into his kelp forest. The larger mer had woken him from a dead sleep, it had scared him silly, with his size and sharp teeth. But Virgil had been just as shocked as he was, had backed off immediately, cooing at him soothingly in an apology. Neither could remember the last time they’d seen another mer, and after they’d both calmed down, spent the day talking.

 Later, Virgil told him he ate fish that he caught, would never have even thought of attacking another mer. They’d laughed as Virgil told him just how startled he was, almost more scared of him than he’d been of Virgil, so afraid of breaking something so small and delicate. Virgil was always exceedingly gentle, took him swimming with dolphins, or whales, when they were in the area, dove deeper than he could ever manage on his own, showed him so many new and wonderful things. He wonders what Virgil is doing now.

 “Observation day 4, despite my attempts at discovering the creature’s food preferences, it has not consumed any of the sustenance I have provided for it.”

 He is hungry, but he will not eat. He doesn’t want to give the human any new information, anything to use against him, or other mers. He won’t give away anything he can’t help, he won’t expose Virgil to this, he has already suffered enough.

 He remembers the day Virgil told him where the long scar across his side came from, Virgil had been young, but he remembered that. Whalers, he’d said. He’d been with his family, but had heard the ship coming. They were aiming at a mother and her calf. He tried to save them, get them away, and he did, but the harpoon struck him instead. He must have drifted after that, because he didn’t remember much of the next week or so, by the time he had gained awareness back he was in unfamiliar waters, with no idea which way was home. He hadn’t seen any of his family since. Hadn’t seen any other mers since, either. No wonder Virgil had been so shocked to come across him in the kelp, he must have seemed to be an illusion at first. He wonders how long until Virgil forgets him, too.

 “Observation day five, the specimen has been uncharacteristically visible today. It is floating listlessly, seemingly uncaring if I observe. It is usually quite skittish, but now even tapping on the glass elicits no reaction.

 He doesn’t care anymore. What’s the point, of hiding? The human can look all he wants, he won’t be learning anything. Usually, he eats nearly his weight in seaweed and kelp a day, but he hasn’t eaten since before he was put in here. The hunger pangs seem long removed, and everything feels fuzzy. It’s pleasant, it’s like forgetting. If he closes his eyes, he forgets, can pretend he is back in open waters, can almost hear Virgil crooning softly to him. Soon he will close his eyes and not open them.

 “Observation day six, the specimen continues not to eat. It’s scales seem to be losing their luster, changing slowly from a bright blue to a dark dimming gray. Possibly these creatures are unable to survive in captivity, similar to how many species of whale are for unknown reasons unable to be raised by humans.”

  “Hey little minnow. What’s splashing?” He giggles as Virgil appears, swimming on his back under him, so they are facing each other. Virgil is bigger than him, though almost everything is bigger than him, really. Virgil is probably ten feet long, tail included, though his purple tail flares out into strong, sensitive fins that are almost electric in hue. He himself is barely a foot long, roughly the size of Virgil’s hands placed end to end.

“Not much, big fish. How’re you swimming?” He replies, relishing the soft grin on Virgil’s face, his sharp teeth showing for a moment before his expression darkens.

 “They’re humans in the area again, Pat.” He slows his swimming, tail flicking under him as Virgil pulls up as well.

 “You worry too much, Vee.” Virgil shakes his head.

 “I’m telling you, Pat, you’ve gotta be careful. I don’t know what I’d do if you were caught.” He smiles softly, swimming over and patting his cheek.

 “I’ll keep an eye out, I promise. I’m small, anyway, you’re the one they’re more likely to spot.” Virgil smirks, almost instantly, his colors change, hues racing across his body, until he is almost invisible against the water, blending in seamlessly.

He is used to the camouflage, but even he can’t tell exactly where Virgil’s limbs are. He yelps, laughing, as he feels Virgil’s hands cupping around him, placing him on the mer’s shoulder.

 “Yeah, I don’t think it’s me you gotta worry about. You’re the curious one, minnow. That’s what I’m worried about. You go too close to their ships.” Virgil flickers into visibility again. Patton climbs into his hair, wrapping it around his tail and arms, like he would the seaweed to keep himself in place while he sleeps. He feels Virgil’s chuckle as he snuggles down deeper, enjoying the softness of his hair.

 “You comfy yet, Pat?” He chirps out a small coo of contentment, letting his noise convey exactly how comfortable he is, as Virgil starts swimming.

 “Alright, but be careful, yeah?” Virgil mumbles. Patton agrees sleepily, drifting off.

  Net. Something around him, it’s the net, it is biting into his skin, it is dragging him down, he is being tossed and turned with the tides, then air is hitting his tail and it hurts, it burns, he screams! He hears something, a muttered curse, and feels himself falling. He hits something hard, and for a moment the breath is knocked out of him, as he gasps for air.

 Hands. He feels hands around him. Not Virgil’s, they’re too dry, too rough, he wriggles, trying to get out, but they are holding him tight, too tight, he is struggling to breath. He thrashes, knowing it’s no use, knowing the human will do whatever it wants without any regard for his own feelings, knows it’s too late for him, and tears are falling down his face as his tail is scorched ice cold burning dry and he can’t, he can’t help it anymore, can’t stop it anymore, it is welling up inside him.

 “STOP! Please… please please pleasepleasepleaseplease…” And he is sobbing, because he knows it is no use, knows that now that he’s revealed this he will never be let go, and it breaks his heart all over again. “please. Please just do it, whatever you’re going to do, just… just do it and get it over with and let me DIE ALREADY!” He screams, beating his fists against the human’s too large hands, his breath gasping and short, his heart beating out of his chest as panic folds over him.

 Then his tail touches water and he sobs from relief again, before realizing that there is nowhere to go. He’s been put in a coffee mug, filled with water. There is enough room for him to curl his tail under him, his forehead is touching it, he is doubled over with sobs, from sorrow, from pain, from relief, from fear, because now he is exposed and there is nowhere to go, and he knows the human is watching him and he crumples under the weight of that gaze.

 “You… talk. You’re intelligent. You’re an intelligent species.” He hears the human whisper, hears the human thump into his chair, and he shivers, the vibration sending his heart racing. “fuck.”

 “L-language.” He stutters out, somewhat hysterically, his voice wavering, on the edge of keening again, because he just scolded a human, he is dead, he is dead beyond belief and he knows it. He hears the human’s sharp inhale, and flinches back so hard the cup wobbles. His stomach lurches as the human’s hand shoots out to steady it.

 He gathers his courage, and dares to look up. Logan is looking at him. Awe and shock and surprise and a vague horror is tracing itself across the human’s face.

 “M-my apologies. I… I appear to have made a gross error in judgement.” Logan nearly whispers, eyes distant and face pale. He is confused. He didn’t expect a human to apologize.

 “It’s… it’s ok?” He replies, not knowing how to respond, what else to say. The human shakes his head, eyes focusing back on him, those piercing greens seeing right through him.

 “It is not. I am a researcher. An ethical biologist. I study ecosystems and their wildlife. Keeping an intelligent, aware creature, such as yourself, captive, goes against all of my morals. I knew you were distressed, I just didn’t connect why. I… I should have realized…” Logan looks dazed, almost heartbroken, his gaze soft and concerned and nothing but apologetic as he looks down at him.

 His fins flip nervously and he averts his gaze. This isn’t what he expected. He doesn’t know what to do. He is talking to the human and the human is upset, because the human was hurting him without knowing.

 “Why… why didn’t you say something sooner?” He winces, even though the question is not interrogatory.

 “I-I kn-knew then you would n-never let me go. I th-thought if I st-stayed quiet and b-b-boring you might let me g-g-go home!” He is crying again, the homesickness overwhelming him. The longing, the pure, broken longing for the open sea nearly making him sick.

 “Oh. Oh dear. I… We are at a clear misunderstanding, and that is entirely my fault. I found you beached, tangled in netting. You needed medical treatment, so I brought

you back here to help, and make sure your healing progressed fully. I always intended to release you back into the wild. But then your condition began to deteriorate as you refused to eat and your scales started to gray and I was worried you had some kind of latent infection or perhaps parasites. I removed you from the tank simply to try and get a better look at your condition. Had I known you could speak and comprehend my language, I would have verbally explained all of this to you earlier, and asked your consent at every step of treatment. I… the amount of emotional distress you’ve been under, oh gods… I’ve traumatized a merman.” The human trails off with a groan, a half hysterical laugh building in the human’s throat as it buries his head in his hands. It takes him a moment, as he processes the human’s words.

           “You… you’re going to let me go?” His voice is broken, he is so afraid of this hope fluttering in his chest, terrified of it being crushed once again, knowing he won’t survive if it is.

           “Yes, gods, yes, especially now that I know you are a sentient species with just as much intelligence as humans! It would be… it would be vile to keep you held hostage, especially given the amount of pain and anxiety it obviously causes you. I would be a monster to keep you here, against your will, I have been!” He flinches at the human’s loud voice, his distress, and Logan sighs softly, lowering his head so it is resting on the edge of the desk, so they are almost at eye level.

 “I am sorry. I am so, deeply, terribly sorry, for all of this. I never… I never meant to cause you harm, physical or mental, and I know that I have. I will release you right away. It is… ten pm, perfect. The stretch of beach you were on is too rocky and dangerous for anyone to be gathered on, we can be there in ten minutes or so, I just need my jacket, and it’s high tide, so you shouldn’t have a problem swimming in, of course, and I understand you probably don’t want to look at my face ever again, of course, so I will move my studies elsewhere if that is an area you frequent-“

 “Logan!” He calls, surprising himself by using the human’s name. But it stops Logan’s rambling in its tracks, and he finds himself smiling softly, because really, Logan had only meant to help. And he was letting him go, bringing him home, despite how big a deal it would probably be for a human to have discovered merpeople. “Logan. I… it’s ok. I don’t… I don’t hate you. I’m… I’m glad it was you, that found me. Not… not very many humans would let me go, no matter how upset or sick I got from it. So… thank you. F-for being one of the few good ones.” His voice was soft, and for a moment he wondered if Logan had even been able to hear him, but when he looked up, Logan’s cheeks were an adorable shade of pink, and his green eyes were glossed over with tears. He stood slowly, and took a deep breath, clearing his throat.

 “It… is appreciated. I wish I could say otherwise on your conclusions about humans, but I fear I share your views. I wish more shared my own. And if… if you ever do want to share more about yourself, or your kind, on your own terms, I am never too far from the beach.” Logan’s voice is shaky, but he can hear the relief in it, the slight smile peeking through, and his fins twitch in response. “Now, let’s get you home.”

 They settle on a bucket of water. With his permission, Logan puts the top on the bucket, though there are large airholes in it that allow him to see light and shadows. It is a bit unnerving, but Logan carefully narrates every movement he is going to make, careful not to slosh the water as he walks from the house to the car. He settles the bucket on the passenger seat, buckling it in.

 “I am assuming you have never been in a car before. It will probably seem extremely loud to you, despite me making all the noise cancelling adaptions I can. The water may vibrate and slosh occasionally, but all the noises are natural and we are not in any danger. This is the easiest and fastest way to get to the water, but if this is too much tell me, and I will use my secondary plan.”

 “What’s your secondary plan?”

 “… I haven’t quite gotten there, yet.” He lets out a giggle at that, leaning back in the water and bracing himself against the smooth sides of the bucket.

 “I’ll be ok. I… I trust you, Logan.” The human is oddly silent for a long moment, before he clears his throat.

 “Starting the engine.” He jumps at the rumble that echoes through the water, but acclimates quickly. It isn’t too bad, truly, a bit like the noise of a distant motor under the water. “Starting to move.” That is a bit more jarring, and his stomach flips at the sensation of movement without moving. He closes his eyes and breathes in through his gills, out through his nose, imagining it as the sway of Virgil’s hands as he swims, carefully holding him.

 Before long, the car stops and he hears the engine die down. He blinks as the lid is removed from the bucket. He swims up, clinging to the top of the bucket, poking his head up like a curious puppy. His eyes are wide as he takes in all the knobs and dials and lights. He wonders how anyone can keep track of what everything does.

 “Ready?” Logan asks, and he nods so fast he slips and splashes back down into the bucket. Logan’s head appears above him, concern slipping to mirth as he sees that he is indeed fine.

 “Alright. I’m going to come around to your side and open the door. We’re on the edge of the rocky beach, so I only have to carry you a little ways.”

 The door closes, his door opens, the bucket is carefully picked up and held securely against Logan’s chest, and his gills flare open, wide, blue fins on either side of his neck, that are bioluminescent in the darkness. They only pop open like this when he is excited or extremely happy, and right now he is both beyond measure.

 He is giddy, overwhelmingly giddy, as he smells the harsh, salty air, the smell of brine and moss and rock and algae and sand and fish, the cold breeze stinging against his face, the stars shining down, the moon reflecting on the open water. Just staring at the water is making his heart pound, his eyes water, because he never, never thought he would be here again.

 He lets out a high, warbling, singing, note. He sends it flying into the night air, sends it sailing through the winds and currents and rocks, pure, unadulterated joy, rushing through him like nothing he has ever felt before, can ever hope to name, because the ocean, the ocean is right there and getting closer, and his pulse is pounding with the rhythm of the waves rolling in and out, and the closer he gets, the louder the ocean, the more it takes over his whole being, light exploding in his chest.

 Then he hears an answering note, low and soft and hesitant, but it grows louder and then the sea is right there, and he launches himself out of the bucket to Logan’s surprised and concerned yelp, but it doesn’t matter, because Virgil is there, and Virgil catches him, and is cradling him so gently, so softly, holding him to his chest as if he’ll never let go.

 He has his arms spread as wide as possible, hugging as much of Virgil as he can, endless, relieved, happy sobs wracking his frame. He barely registers Virgil’s soothing rumbles that vibrate the larger mer’s chest, resonating through his frame.

 He is exhausted, he is starving, but he is so, so, so happy.

 Until he hears the shift in Virgil’s tone. His rumbles turn to growls, turn to a low, menacing voice, as he stares down Logan, electric violet eyes glowing in the night.

 “You took him.” Virgil growls, holding onto him tighter.  

 “I-“ Logan tries to explain, but Virgil bares his teeth, letting out a low hiss. He can feel the power gathering in Virgil’s throat, the magic that is about to erupt. Then the night is filled with haunting, echoing music. Impossible chords, impossible tenderness, impossible longing.

 He turns, breathe catching as he sees Logan, eyes glazed over, stepping off the rocky ledge into the ocean. The water here is already up to Logan’s neck, and as he watches, Logan walks farther into the waves, off the sandbank, head disappearing under the water.

 “Virgil! Stop!” He wiggles free of Virgil’s hold, desperately diving under the waves. He spots Logan immediately. He isn’t too far under, and he darts over to him as Virgil’s song abruptly cuts off.

 Immediately, Logan gasps in a breath, choking and coughing as he flails, inhaling water, panicking. He pulls at Logan’s coat collar, trying to show him the way to the surface, tail straining to tug him upwards, but he’s too small, he can’t, and Logan is drowning-

 Then a flash of purple, and Virgil’s hands are grasping Logan’s arms, dragging him to the surface and pulling him onto the beach. Virgil sits on the rocky shore, tail dangling in the water as he turns Logan on his side.

 He leaps onto the beach, ignoring Virgil’s protest as he curls against Logan’s cheek, relieved as the human starts coughing, spitting up saltwater. He murmurs to Logan, his tiny hands shaking as they gently pat his head, cooing and chirping at him softly, gently tugging at his hair.

 “Logan?” He asks, as the human’s eyes blink open. He groans, coughing as he pushes himself up onto his knees, now covered in sand and sopping wet.

 “What… what was that?” He croaks out. He snuggles against Logan, using Logan’s own dampness to keep his tail wet.

 “That was someone getting a little overzealous and being highly impolite!” He answers, crossing his arms and turning a stern glare on Virgil, who is gaping at him, looking between him and Logan with confusion.

 “Pat, he took you. I thought you were gone!” Virgil’s voice breaks, and he feels himself soften.

 “I know. But he only meant to help. It was my fault, Vee. I got tangled up in net. He helped.”

 “i thought you were dead.” Virgil’s voice is a whisper and it breaks his heart.

 “I’m not. I’m just fine, big fish. I’m here, and home and fine, thanks to Logan.” Virgil nods, lets out a shaky breath, extending his hand. He pulls away from Logan and allows Virgil to scoop him up, lifting him so they’re eye to eye.

 He smiles tenderly, placing a hand against Virgil’s nose, leaning his head against it and feeling the mer inhale and exhale.

 “don’t scare me like that, little minnow. I can’t… I can’t lose you, too.” After a long moment, Virgil lowers him back to the ground, setting him down so the tide is just lapping at the tip of his tail.

 “sorry… Logan. I… thank you. For bringing him home.” Virgil doesn’t meet Logan’s eyes, and with a flick of his tail, he is gone, out of sight, but not far. Logan straightens up and runs his hands through his hair.

 “Sorry about that. I should have known Vee would be a little testy. I… he’s lost a lot, already, because of humans. He’s always been pretty protective of me.” Logan shakes his head.

 “It is understandable. I… probably would have reacted less than favorably as well, had I been in his position. I’m glad you have someone who is willing to defend you like that. It… truthfully, you being out there alone made me a bit nervous.” Logan clears his throat, shaking his head. “I… should get going, then, I suppose.” Logan gives a small wave, turning, starting to walk away.

 “Logan! Do you wanna… meet here, again? In a few days maybe? I’m… I’m kinda curious about human life, and I can tell you some mer stuff too. As long as you keep it to yourself.” Logan smiles, turning his head to look back at the tiny mer.

 “That sounds wonderful. I would love to, as long as your friend doesn’t mind.”

 “He won’t.” Logan turns, but the mer’s voice rings out once more. “I’m Patton, by the way. I… I never really introduced myself.” Logan’s lips twitch into a smile.

 “You never had reason to. You were terrified out of your mind. Still, it was a pleasure to meet you, Patton. I… look forward to seeing you under more favorable circumstances.” Patton laughs, a sound a bit like distant bells, and as the next wave recedes from the shore, he is gone.

 He immediately flies into Virgil’s hands, letting the larger mer check him over worriedly for injuries, assuring him the scars wrapped around him from the net don’t hurt, have already faded, eventually just curling up against him, holding him tight, feeling his chest loosen with every rock of waves, every swish of tail, every breath of water.

 “you’re tired. You wanna sleep in my hair?” He nods, immediately burrowing into the silky substance, twining it around himself until he is surrounded by the safety, the warmth, of Virgil. He doesn’t think he will ever emerge. He has never felt so grateful, so safe, so happy, in all of his life.

 “Love you, big fish.” He murmurs, feeling Virgil rumbling lowly again, helping him ease into sleep.

 “Love you too, minnow. So, so, so much.” He hums in agreement, letting the sway of the sea rock him into a gentle, happy sleep, already looking forwards to seeing his human again. Maybe Virgil is right. Maybe he is too curious for his own good.

 But that’s why he has Virgil, and now Logan. He knows, they will keep him safe.

[i-like-5sos]

kyana i'm so happy for you about finishing your invisalign! i've wanted straight teeth for a lifetime, too, so i can imagine how incredible you must feel now! can you tell me more about your experience with it? was it annoying at all or was it pretty easy?

hi Shelbi! :)

Thank you ! I’m so happy I finally got it done! My overall experience was pretty easy, even with the pandemic going on around us. 

Here’s a bit about my experience:

I’ve been having orthodontal work done on me since I was around 9 years old but it wasn’t until May 2019 that I actually went and booked myself an appointment to get Invisalign. The initial appointment was really cool, they did a scan of my mouth and showed me what my teeth could look like straight and I was on board right away. 

It took me a few months to actually go back in and get the process started. It was December when I got my first set. I was originally assigned 21 sets of aligners and I was told I’d need elastics at some point. I was to switch to new ones every 2 weeks and wear them for at least 22 hours a day. The first set really hurt but after that the pain was bearable and would only last about a week after each time I switched aligners (nothing an Advil couldn’t handle). I also had “buttons” (aka clear molds of glue) put on my teeth to keep the retainers locked in place.

The elastics were added in the beginning of June 2020 and I had them for about 8 weeks. They were hooked onto a piece of metal that was glued onto my top molars and a hooked piece on the front of my bottom aligners. When They were first put on my teeth, my mouth and jaw hurt like hell. I couldn’t close my mouth or eat properly for like 24 hours but I eventually got used to them and since I wore them the entire time (besides eating + brushing) I was able to be done with them fairly quickly. They left the metal pieces in my mouth until late September which kinda sucked cause they were sharp af and had the insides of my cheeks constantly swollen and scratched. (This was overall the worst part of my entire Invisalign experience). When I got the metal removed I also had to get some of my teeth filed to make a little more room. This was slightly painful and smelled horrible. Afterwards, my teeth were extremely sensitive but they were better after about 24 hours.

In late October 2020 I was supposed to be finished my Invisalign but there were a few gaps in my teeth so I was assigned additional aligners. I had to wait about a month to receive them which sucked, and once I was able to go in and get them my teeth hurt a lot once they were on (due to not moving for a month).

Last week I was fitted for my permanent metal retainers that will sit against the backs of my upper and lower front teeth. Today I had them installed and took my final pictures. I have a follow up appointment in about 4 months! Long story short:

pros:

not very noticeable 

you can see the progression of your teeth unravel before you

fast (as long as you stick to the rules)

easy to eat with (due to being able to take them out)

cons:

painful (as to be expected)

brushing the aligners / brushing teeth + flossing after every time you eat

elastics

a bit more expensive than traditional braces 

I really enjoyed my experience with Invisalign and would highly recommend to anybody looking into getting them :)

[fantasydaydreamers]

"Spiderverse Pt. 2" Spiderman Au! Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Continuation of PART 1

Word Count: 3,061

Warnings: None

Author's Note: Nothing like a lil bromance. Also...HAPPY SEASON 4 BABBBBYYYY!!!!!

The next morning, Bakugou woke up before his alarm with a smile on his face, the memories from last night still lingering in his head. The adrenaline he felt coming home took a while to fade, but even then he had trouble falling asleep. Plus the overall reality of his night kept replaying in his head like a broken record player, making it hard for him to unwind. When he finally fell asleep, it was brief, but restful, which was why he was up so early now.

He blinked the blurriness away from his eyes and laid in bed for a minute immediately thinking back to the secret kiss shared in the alley, his lips tingling with the thought. The small gasp you made when his tongue entered your mouth accompanied by the loose strands of your hair blowing in the wind tickling his face, he was shocked it wasn't a dream. Not only that, but the robbery he had stopped at the cafe, thankfully saving everyone from danger, made him feel complete.

Bakugou yawned as he stretched, cracking his joints, before flinging himself out of bed. Opening his blinds to the waking streets of Toyko, the sunlight poured in his room, golden streaks of light being created by the blinds in the way. Making his way over to the stereo he had in his room, he put on some of his favorite rock music as he got ready. Today is going to be a good ass day. He flung open his closet and began to dig through his clothes, throwing the items on the ground.

He paused, holding a random shirt in his hand. Wait...why do I care? It's just another day at this dumbass school. It wasn't like (Y/n) would know it was me, anyway. Rubbing the cotton between his fingers, he mulled over his thoughts briefly. Fuck it. I can have a good day once in a while. He threw on his favorite t-shirt and jeans before grabbing his backpack to head downstairs. Reaching the bottom, Bakugou waltzed into the kitchen.

"You're up early." Aunt May eyed him cautiously, looking up from the paper she was reading while sipping a cup of coffee at the dining table. Bakugou's signature scowl returned as he shrugged his shoulders, grabbing one of the pieces of toast on her plate. "Hey, brat! At least ask if you can have one!" Aunt May rolled up the newspaper and smacked him on the head. "Watch it!" Bakugou retorts, moving away from her reach.

"You look like you're in a good mood today." Aunt May changes the topic as she reaches over for the remote, switching on the TV. Ignoring her, Bakugou takes a bite of the toast.

"Breaking news this morning, a cafe robbery happened in the heart of downtown Tokyo late last night. When authorities arrived on the scene, the robbers were stuck to the ground by some sort of webbing. Witnesses say that a person by the name of 'Spiderman' had taken care of the situation, saving everyone inside."

Bakugou slowed his chewing and swallowed, his attention focusing on the TV. The camera cuts to a clip of a witness at the scene last night being interviewed with a blanket wrapped around them. "He came through the window that was already broken by the robbers and fought them off, making sure they didn't hurt us. It all happened so quickly, I'm just glad he was able to come to the rescue."

The camera then cuts to a little boy sitting next to his mother with tear-stained cheeks wrapped up in a blanket. "Hwe-hic-was so cool. Thank you, Spiderman."

Bakugou's chest swells at the words being said about him as he tunes out the rest of the reporter's details of the aftermath. "Recently, it seems like the crime in the city has increased lately. You better start coming home earlier, Bakugou. I don't want you getting caught up in these situations." Aunt May's eyes cut to him sharply her words holding a warning. "Do you understand me?"

He knew why she was paranoid, but he couldn't just sit around and do nothing. For all he knew, the spider bite could've been poisonous and he could've died. This way, he felt as if he had a second chance at life; turning it into something positive. "Yeah." He nods his head once, looking at her briefly and grips his backpack tighter. I'm sorry Aunt May. I need too. I want too.

Aunt May was still glancing over at Bakugou while finishing her coffee. Awkwardly, Bakugou checks the clock on the wall thankfully finding an excuse to leave. "Well...I'm off to school." Backing out of the room, Bakugou walks to the front door to put his shoes on.

"It's still kind of early..." Aunt May's voice trails after him suspiciously. "Kirishima asked me to meet him early and help with the homework we had last night," he calls back, the lie flowing smoothly through Bakugou's teeth as he finishes lacing his shoes. "Be safe." Aunt May's stern yet worried tone was now heard clearly.

Bakugou stood with his hand on the door, silently thinking over his response. After the events that happened in the past, it didn't just affect him. Not only the spider bite but everything that occurred before that, leaving permanent damage on the two of them making them both lose important people in their lives. He didn't want her to worry about him when she has already done so much for him.

His secret was something he was determined to not let Aunt May know. 

"I promise."

~*~*~*~*

Arriving at school, he was relieved not many people had shown up yet. Bakugou yawned feeling the exhaustion catch up to him. Where did all my energy from this morning go? He walks slowly through the courtyard, the crisp dewy grass crunching under his feet. Another yawn threatened to escape his mouth but he suppressed it, his eyes tearing up. Maybe I should've had some coffee to help myself wake up.

Since the doors weren't opened yet, the few who were already present were scattered around the front of the school, sitting on benches or the staircase, idly chatting together or waiting for their friends to show up. Bakugou hopped up on the ledge surrounding the statue of the school's founder in the center of the courtyard just at the end of the stairs. He leaned his head back and squinted his eyes, looking up at the sun still rising above the school. A sudden chilled autumn breeze ran through the courtyard making Bakugou close his eyes.

In that moment, he was once again teleported back to last night. The feeling of the wind brushing your hair against his cheek just as the kiss was deepening, your hand on the side of his face holding him still-

"Morning, Bakugou!" Bakugou was jolted out of his daydream, his eyes snapping open as he whipped his head to the side seeing Kirishima walking around the statue towards him. He scowled and glared at the red-headed boy who was way too cheerful for this time of day. "You're here early," Kirishima observes cautiously as he comes to a stop in front of Bakugou. His brows were furrowed looking up at his friend until an excited grin crossed his features. "Oh! Dude! You were on TV-"

"Shut up!" Bakugou hissed, throwing a hand over Kirishima's mouth before his voice could echo to everyone else. Kirishima didn't seem to mind as he stared back at Bakugou in awe. Slowly, Bakugou removed his hand and gave Kirishima a pointed look. "I know," he murmured, his hand landing behind his head feeling embarrassed.

"You looked so manly, dude! Tell me the whole story. Did you really knock a guy out? What's with the 'itsy-bitsy spider' thing? Hey, do you think (Y/n) saw?!" Kirishima bounced on the balls of his feet as he hounded Bakugou with questions. (Y/n). Remembering that he needed to tell Kirishima just how 'impressed' she was, Bakugou suddenly smirked which made Kirishima stop and stare. "Don't do that dude. It's creepy."

Bakugou scowled again and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you want me to tell you what happened or not, Shitty Hair?" Kirishima nodded enthusiastically and made the 'zipping' motion over his mouth.

Rolling his eyes, Bakugou went into a brief--but badass--detail of the encounter, rushing to get to what he considered the 'good part.' "So! Here's where it gets good...(Y/n) was the one standing with the brick in her hand."

Kirishima let out a serious, but dramatic, gasp and threw his hand over his mouth. Up until that point, he was fully engrossed in the story, hanging on to Bakugou's every word. "No, she wasn't!"

"Dude! I'm fucking serious!" Bakugou would never admit it, but he felt giddy talking about his experience with Kirishima. He was someone who actually gave a damn about what Bakugou does and even offered to help in some cases in which Bakugou would scoff and turn away, not knowing how to react. He had told him, 'maybe one day,' and Kirishima forced him to pinky promise, pissing Bakugou off in the process.

"I grabbed her hand and took off down the street pulling her into an alley-"

As the story got more unexpected, Kirishima kept interrupting. "You were ALONE with her?!" He exclaimed his hands flying up to grip Bakugou's shoulders. "Please tell me you didn't mess up. You didn't tell her, did you? Is she going to keep the secret too? Wait...I thought this was bro-code-"

Bakugou shoved Kirishima's hands off, anxious to finish the story since more people were starting to show up. "Bro-co-? Let me finish! No, she doesn't know!" As the courtyard was filling up with people, the chatter became louder and school busses were arriving from the outskirts of Tokyo to drop students off. 

You were walking up to the school, gripping the strap to your bag, trying to shake yourself from drowsiness. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Bakugou grinning while talking to Kirishima in a hushed voice. "(Y/n)!" You hear your friends call out to you from the staircase as they wave you over. Smiling back, you motion to them you'll be over there in a minute and walk toward the two boys.

"You kissed-?!" Bakugou's hand flew over Kirishima's mouth again when he absently saw you approaching from his peripheral. This sixth sense thing can be fucking useful when it wants to be. Seeing the movement, you stop next to Kirishima and grin at them. "What are you two boys gossiping about?"

Bakugou gaped at you, not knowing what to say. Kirishima also looked shocked by your sudden appearance and glanced at Bakugou, only to see his dumbfounded expression. Noticing his panic, Kirishima gave you a wide-tooth grin. "He-hey, (Y/n)! Good morning!"

You smiled back at Kirishima warmly, his personality contagious. "Morning! Did I hear that someone kissed someone else?" Excided, you shoot Bakugou a glance, your hands coming up to cup your ear. "Tell me the tea! I want to know!"

Bakugou's eyes widened as he felt an embarrassed flush radiate off his skin. "Uh-" Kirishima stepped in front of Bakugou defensively. "He kissed me! The other night-uh-it was an accident though. Like one of those slip and fall situations, you know?"

You stare at Kirishima speechless. Suddenly, Bakugou's fist comes flying down on Kirishima's head. "He's lying. Right, Kirishima? Tell her you're lying. Now." If you squinted, you were sure you could see steam coming from Bakugou's ears as he grit out his words menacingly. Kirishima winced as the fist dug harder into his skull, trying not to laugh.

"Yeah-pfft-I'm lying. I can't tell you. Bro-code, (Y/n)." The answer does little to nothing in seizing Bakugou's fumes as his other hand comes to pull at Kirishima's hair. "You dumbass! What the fuck did you just do?!" Shock by the excuse and watching the two boys bicker in front of you, laughter bubbles up in your throat escaping leaves your lips, the sound making the boys stop.

"Is this one of those no-homo jokes? You teenage boys think you're so funny, huh? It's too bad you won't tell me what really happened then..." You begin to walk away from them, Bakugou hanging on to your every word, hoping Kirishima didn't fuck everything up. Halfway to your friends who were waiting on you, you turn around with a sly smile on your face and put your finger to your lips.

"I kissed someone too."

With that, the two boys watch you turn back around and jog over to your friends excitedly. Bakugou's grip had loosened on Kirishima and he took that opportunity to escape and fix his hair, rubbing the sore spot on his head. "Wow. You really did it, didn't you?" Kirishima let out a low whistle watching Bakugou stare after you longingly, a sigh leaving his lips.

"Hello? Dude...please tell me you weren't acting that slow last night when you were talking with her. You didn't even say a word to her just now, so how in the world did you kiss her?" Fixing his hair, Kirishima pulled out his phone to check his reflection, making sure he looked presentable.

The comment made Bakugou snap out of his trance as he pushed himself off the ledge, stretching once he stood up straight. "Shut up, Shitty Hair." He paused in his stretching when he realized he really didn't say anything to you. "I guess it was easier to talk to her because I knew she wouldn't know who it really was under the mask, you know?"

Kirishima put his phone away and looked at Bakugou confused. "Is that supposed to be a tongue twister? Well, I guess you did some tongue twisters last night too-OUCH!"

Bakugou gripped Kirishima's hair again, pushing and pulling his head around as he tried to stutter out a response. All that managed to leave his mouth were curses and insults as Kirishima laughed and complained about his hair. "Also, Shitty Hair, what the fuck were you thinking when you made that comment earlier?! Are you trying to fuck this up for me?! Do you need to tell me something?"

Now Kirishima was the one being asked the questions as he chuckled and shrugged it off like it was nothing. "Seeing you panic made me panic a little so I had to think fast. Besides, you heard (Y/n), we're just two teenage boys," Kirishima stopped the movement of his head and put his hand on Bakugou's shoulders staring at him in the eyes, "no homo, bro."

That's it. "Don't touch me! I'll fucking web you to the front of the school in your sleep." Bakugou threated, shoving Kirishima's hands off of him. It pissed him off that Kirishima knew just how to get under Bakugou's skin. Especially when it came to (Y/n).

Kirishima held up his hands in defense, smirking. "I'm messing with you, Bakubro! Besides, I sleep in my boxers. I don't think that'll help your case." He said thoughtfully, once again fixing his hair.

Bakugou leaned in and smirked. "Actually, it just might help. How embarrassing would it be to wake up to the whole school laughing at you?" Kirishima gulped and backed away as Bakugou followed him threateningly. 

"Okay fine, you win! I'm sorry I said that and I won't do it again!" Kirishima was the first one to break, making Bakugou laugh in victory. They often pushed each other around just to see who could break the act. Bakugou was just upset that Kirishima decided to play the game around (Y/n). The school bell finally rang and Kirishima sighed in relief walking next to his friend to the staircase. "I guess you can say I'm saved by the bell."

"I hate you."

~*~*~*~*

A while later, Bakugou and Kirishima met up again because they both had P.E. together. You also happened to be in this class, although you spent most of the time sitting on the bleachers talking to your friends. Bakugou was currently doing sit-ups as Kirishima held his legs, ranting on about a pop-quiz he had first-period.

Sudden gasps sounded from the bleachers, making the boys turn their attention to the girls. "Shhh!" You giggled trying to hush the girls, noticing all the boys looking. "Yes! I swear!" Some boys turn their attention away, but Bakugou and Kirishima were closest to the group, having perfect hearing.

"It felt so surreal. I couldn't fall asleep last night because I kept thinking about him. He was so funny and sweet...giving him a kiss was the only thing I could think of to say thank you because I wasn't sure if I would see him again. He's my hero." You sigh dreamily and Bakugou curses that he wasn't paying attention to what she was saying before. However, a small blush crossed his cheeks as him and Kirishima switched places. Her hero...

The group erupted in questions as your eyes met Bakugou's. You offered him a little smile looking embarrassed from all the attention and Bakugou nodded his head, turning away. She caught me staring. Fuck.

Suddenly the school's announcement speakers sounded as a panicked voice spoke out. "Attention all students, faculty, and staff: we need to evacuate the school as there has been an emergency broadcast that some vortex had opened up above the city. There are calls being sent out to Stark Towers-"

No sooner than hearing the news, student screams were heard throughout the building as everyone hurriedly ran out the doors, pushing and shoving each other along the way. Kirishima and Bakugou grabbed their bags and ran out the gym doors, stopping on the football field staring up at the darkened sky. The black and purple vortex was visibly where they were and Bakugou could faintly see lightning surrounding the edge of it.

As he looked up at the sky in disbelief as his fingers itched to go help take care of the situation, feeling the hairs on his arms and neck stand up. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out while still deciding if he should ditch the evacuation and see what's going on. He looked down and smirked, seeing the message. Of course, old man.

Mr. Stark: Come on, kid. We need you.

[deepdisireslonging]

Standing Against the Past

A rumbling is spreading through the locker rooms. Should retired wrestlers continue to fight, or should they let the next generation have their chance to make history? The children of two legacies, Charlotte Flair and Randy Orton, seek to answer this by forming an alliance. 

Pairing: None

Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, unusual formating

Word Count: 4220

Note: I would love to write out this whole thing. But I don’t have the time, nor the energy for it. So, I’m trying something a little different. I wrote out what is usually an outline for me, and that is what I’m going to post. Nor am I waiting till Friday to do so. Here and there are scenes that I really need to keep from bouncing around in my head. If this works, for the most part, I might keep doing things this way so I can continue to create content, and continue to be creative for creative sake. Let me know your thoughts about this with comments, reblogs, gif reactions, etc. Enjoy!

January - Monday 2/Week 1 “Recap”

“Natural Selection near the ropes. Could this put away Lacey Evans? Wait- what?”

Charlotte Flair twisted around, wondering why the three-count had not been completed. Ric Flair pointed at the bottom rope, and at the ankle he had just put there. She took in the sight of Lacey’s ankle not on the canvas, but on the rope. She slowly turned to look at her father. He backed away from the ring. The Nature Boy had never been a face, not really. But damn if he didn’t try to look innocent.  

The match continued for about another thirty seconds. If that long. With another interference from her father, Charlotte lost the match. 

Quickly, Ric backed further away from the ring, terrified of his daughter’s quiet rage fuming there. By the time Lacey was by his side, he was all smiles. 

*What the hell just happened?* Charlotte thought. 

***

Randy Orton glared across the canvas as Triple H hauled up his iconic sledgehammer. But it was wrong. Very wrong. Flames covered the hunk of metal at the top. Soon, that was the only light in the arena. When it went out, it took the Cerebral Assassin with it, replacing him with a purple hue and burned apprehension into Randy’s chest. 

Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder, spotting Alexa Bliss. 

Pain.

Within another thirty seconds, his eyes were burned by the firebolt that Little Miss Bliss shot at him. He rolled on the canvas, screaming in agony as the show came to a close. 

***

Even when he removed the icepack to his lap, he didn’t glance at her as she stepped into the shadows. “Legends are hard to get rid of, aren’t they?” He chuckled. “Thought you’d be enough for Lacey though.”

“And I thought for sure that you’d be enough for Alexa, but here we are.” Charlotte shuddered to control herself. “I hate that I have to ask, but how did you do it? When you wrestle, your Dad barely comes up at all besides the odd mention that you’re a third generation.” She grit her teeth. “I can’t seem to breathe without his legacy coming up.”

“I have the benefit that my Dad doesn’t come around the ring anymore. Yours can’t seem to stay away.” He made eye contact. “Despite your best efforts.”

Knuckles paling under the force, Charlotte held her fist to her lips. “There’s a way to fix that,” she whispered.

Now she had his full attention. Randy turned to face her. Under her calm complexion, he could see, and understand, the rage boiling in her blood. The blood of a Flair.

“For me to get rid of him-”

“Permanently away from the ring-”

“I would have to break his spirit. Wrestling has been his whole life.” Randy cocked his head to side. “Are you ready to accept the consequences?”

Charlotte hesitated. She licked her lips. “At a minimum, do enough to keep him away long enough for me to demolish Lacey.” Her breath stuttered. This was probably a mistake. Randy was too ready, too eager to destroy a life. To destroy a heritage. “If you go even an inch too far,” she snarled, “I will cut the head off the viper myself.”

He had to laugh. “That’s supposed to dissuade me? Maybe I like the idea of that challenge. Perhaps I can kill the Flair name for good.”

“Try, and I can promise you there will not be a fourth generation of Ortons to step into the ring.”

“Threatening my family-”

“Do not think to overstep our understanding. We were both bred for this business. Cross that line, and I will cross you further than you’d ever be willing to go. But this isn’t how I want to do things. I’m here to offer help with your little Bliss problem in return-”

“You’re here because you can’t do yourself,” he shot back. He stepped into her space. “Because you’re scared ‘daddy’ won’t love his little girl anymore.”

Unbothered, Charlotte tilted her head. Randy’s mind flashed with the memory of Alexa Bliss tilting her head in a similar fashion. And the danger it meant. “If our places were switched, and you were the one stifled under your own family name, would you be able to do it on your own?”

Randy leaned back, levelling his gaze. After a minute of consideration, he rumbled out an answer. “I would do whatever it took to stand on my own feet.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Do you have a time limit to this… request?”

“As soon as possible.” They nodded at one another. Before she left, Charlotte tossed back, “I won’t forget this, Randy.” She disappeared down the hall.

Randy grinned. “You won’t. I won’t let you.”

***

January - Monday 3/Week 2 “Beginnings”

Hunter is still missing. Commentary questions Randy’s next move, and the health of his eyes after last week’s attack.

Lacey vs Charlotte Part 2:

Ric is fully in Lacey’s corner

Halfway through the match, Randy RKO’s him onto the ringside mat before disappearing behind the Thunderdome screens.

Charlotte wins undeniably and brutally

Charlotte tells her post-match interviewer that, “Yes, Lacey was not the first nor the last person to flirt with my father. But she was the most satisfying to put down.”

By her side, Randy avoids questions about his “assist”

***

January - Monday 4/Week 3

Lacey talks nasty about Charlotte allowing Randy to RKO her own father. Claims they could have settled this “like women.”

Peyton walks up and points out she tried. It was Lacey who “threw the first punch” by kissing Ric’s cheek a few weeks ago.

They have to team against Nia Jax/Shayna Baszler

They lose because of squabbling

Randy’s eyes are more healed

The lights go out backstage, but they come back when Charlotte hurries to back him up. They both find that interesting

There’s a rush of people down the hall: Hunter has been found

A message is left on his body: a 1st-degree burn on his face of a handprint covering his mouth. He is taken away to a medical facility

Charlotte wonders what she’s gotten herself into

*** February - Monday 1/Week 4

Asuka and Charlotte are scheduled to defend

Asuka asks her if she trusts Randy

Charlotte doesn’t, not by a mile, but Lacey and Ric seemed to be handled. So she owes him a little help like she promised.

They face Nia and Shayna

Lacey interferes, but it counts as a disqualification and the Women’s Tag Titles are retained

Peyton claims nothing to do with it when Charlotte and Asuka glare at her

The Hurt Business challenges Randy because he’s “free, and the biggest threat on Monday Night Raw. Well, besides Bobby Lashley.”

"You need to be taught a lesson in how to respect 'your elders.'" "My elders? You haven't been paying attention."

In the background, a Rambling Rabbit with red cross-stitched eyes and patchwork fur pops up

Cedric Alexander interferes in the match, still snubbed that his contributions to the Hurt Business haven’t been appreciated

Randy launches at him for ruining his match, but before he can RKO Cedric for his trouble, the lights go out and Alexa Bliss shows up

Acting before she can shoot him again, he runs at her. The lights go out again, but this time when they come back up, she’s on the opposite side of the ring. He dodges the fireblast. Alexa continues to toy with him.

Charlotte appears on the apron, bringing a kendo stick down on Alexa’s head

Alexa disappears, leaving Randy and Charlotte to look at each other.

***

February - Monday 2/Week 5

Randy confronts Charlotte, asking her why she got involved like that. He didn’t ask her to attack Alexa

Charlotte claims she wanted them to be even, favour for favour

Randy says that was a mistake. Now Alexa, and Wyatt/the Fiend, will target her too

Charlotte: “I can handle myself.”

Abby the Witch puppet watches from aground a corner. Her vein is now red and her mouth hangs open, lopsided

Asuka/Charlotte vs Mandy/Dana

Alexa interferes, and the titles are lost

Asuka blames her. Charlotte fully understands and agrees.

Charlotte: “Now you’ll have time to defend the Raw Women’s Championship like you should. And you won’t have to look over your shoulder for me. I’m going to be a little busy.”

After Asuka leaves, Randy walks up. They don’t say anything, but share a nod. Time to get down to business.

***

February - Monday 3/Week 6

Charlotte demands that Alexa shows herself, Randy watches their backs

In a Firefly Funhouse episode, Alexa is putting the Funhouse back together.

Ducktape on the walls is covered over with strips of brightly-coloured Washi tape, there is more Alexa-esque pink in the room

The burning house portrait is bigger

Alexa only talks to Charlotte

“It’s long been said that you can pick your nose, and your friends, but not your friend’s nose… but Randy is one friend you should not have picked.”

Alexa compares her to a bird in her ring regalia and suggests she be careful not to catch her wings on fire

Randy: “I should have torched the place.”

Wyatt/the Fiend’s laugh ends the episode, covering up Alexa’s laugh

Charlotte is aghast. “What the hell was that?”

Randy: “Welcome to the Funhouse.” And, “If a voice starts asking you to ‘let Him in... “

Charlotte steels herself for war

Update about Hunter: he is physically recovered but hasn’t spoken much, suggesting psychological damage

***

February - Monday 4/Week 7

A package is delivered to Charlotte. It’s a puppet carticulture of herself. A match is announced between her and Alexa for later that night

Asuka offers her Green Mist, Charlotte declines

Randy vs Cedric Alexander

Randy: “I owe you an RKO.”

Randy keeps looking over his shoulder for Alexa/Wyatt/Fiend/any shenanigans

Cedric keeps a lookout for the Hurt Business

Ricochet surprisingly shows up for commentary

Wants to see what Cedric is like post-Hurt Business

Lights go out, but not for Randy. It’s Retribution for Ricochet

In the confusion, Randy catches Cedric with an RKO and wins

Charlotte vs Alexa Bliss

Charlotte wins, only because she started right off the bat with heel-ish short cuts

Alexa laughs with her loss

The Fiend makes an appearance, teleporting Alexa away before Randy can catch him

***

March - Monday 1/Week 8 + PPV

PPV: 2 on 1 with Randy/Charlotte vs Alexa Bliss

Alexa toys with both of them, riling them both up into making mistakes

Randy RKO’s her, and Charlotte ties her up in the Figure 4 for the win

Monday Night Raw

Randy and Charlotte discuss the match

Randy: “That’s not the end of it. There will never be an end.”

Charlotte: “Agreed.” She slips into thought. “It would be nice… to have a little backup.”

Mustafa Ali vs Ricochet vs Cedric

Mustafa wins with minimal assistance from Retribution

Charlotte shows up backstage to talk to Mustafa Ali

“Well, what can we do for you Ms Flair?”

Charlotte looked away from Mustafa Ali’s smug welcome. A tiny tilt of her head to the right, and then to the left, confirmed that she was surrounded. Retribution didn’t waste time. She could appreciate that, despite the imminent danger she was in. A Queen is not bothered by the movements of minions. “I was impressed by your little speech on Raw Talk, and your passion since then. Not many people are brave enough to call out the WWE for placing their heroes on unsteady pedestals.”

“Unsteady?”

As Reckoning stepped close enough to feel her breath on her skin, Charlotte rolled her shoulders back. “Yes. It’s very… easy for a legend to fall. Especially if they continue to come back into a world full of younger blood.” She bit back a snarl as Mustafa’s smile slid onto his face. “Very easy for them to… embarrass themselves.”

He didn’t beat around the bush. “Like your father with Lacey.”

She hissed a breath. “Yes. Like my father with Lacey.” Patiently she waited for him to ask what she wanted. What he could do for her.

Instead, he leaned against a crate and crossed his arms. “I want to hear you say it. I want you to admit it.”

Retribution chuckled around her.

“My father was long past his prime. He had no business being near a ring beyond token appearances for when the WWE Universe wanted to reminisce. And he had no business,” she hissed, pinching her fingers together, “getting involved in my matches. Especially not for that-”

“Be civil, Ms Flair.” Mustafa joked, “you are a queen after all. And must hold to higher standards-”

“Cut the bull shit.” She ignored the tittering laughter around her. “I may not agree with the methods you’ve used over the past several months to weaken the roster. But-” with a shallow breath she had to admit, “I agree with your… teachings.” Her eyebrows met in confusion. “If that’s what you’re calling them.”

Mustafa shrugged. “Close enough.” With a nod, Retribution abandoned haunting Charlotte and stood at his side. “That’s all well and good. Having your… backing.” He side-eyed Slap-Jack. “But we never needed your permission to attack your father. We could have eliminated him any time we wanted. Luckily for him, the Viper put him out of his misery first. None of this explains why-”

“We are the children of NXT. It is our job to pave the way so that the next generation can walk into their spotlight. The only weakness in your teachings is that people who listen to them do not abide by them. Ricochet still hasn’t joined your fold. And the Fiend is still wreaking havoc on our- your roster.”

The leader’s eyebrows shot up.

Charlotte swallowed away the dry taste in her mouth. “You could do great things in the WWE, Mr Ali. I want to assist you. Briefly.”

“Well now.” Mustafa walked slowly around her. “That is a promising opportunity.” He stopped by her shoulder. “I assume you’d want assistance in turn with Alexa Bliss.”

“Yes.”

He nodded at Reckoning. She ran off, disappearing into the hallway’s shadows. “We’ll look into it. Tonight. As for the Fiend…” Mustafa pursed his lips. “That will take time. Let’s talk.”

Like a hive moving as one, Retribution followed their leader further into the darkness of backstage. After a moment’s hesitation, so did Charlotte Flair. 

***

March - Monday 2/Week 9

Retribution vs. Hurt Business

Charlotte takes it to MVP on the mic, making him stutter and flustered

Randy teams with Slap-Jack against Lashley and Shelton and beats them

They all pose in the ring

Mustafa climbed into the ring as the Hurt Business rushed to escape it. As he took his position in the centre of the ring, Charlotte and Randy flanked him on either side. As he raised his arm to finish his pose, the rest of Retribution filed in, completing a pyramid that filled the ring. 

The collective of such a body of wrestlers was a loud message: there was no room in any ring for anyone who thought otherwise than them. Retribution, and the legacies of Charlotte and Randy, were going to take the wrestling universe by storm like never before.

Mustafa and Randy “chat”

Randy is updated with Mustafa’s cause, and made aware that the continuation of his career is dependant on Mustafa’s mercy. Randy has been wrestling for a long time, almost too long to be considered “this generation.” But… Charlotte, a fellow child of NXT, vouches for him. So they’re good. For now.

When asked about why she’s added teaming up with Retribution, Charlotte points out that her alliance with Randy Orton started because her father put his nose into business he shouldn’t have. It was just luck that she found Randy first. Both alliances would have gotten her to this moment, achieving exactly what she wanted to do: cementing her reign over the WWE Universe.

***

March-August: Week 10

Over the next several months, Retribution continues to convince the WWE Universe that the “Old Golden Age” of WWE is over. It’s been over for a long time, and now is the time for the new, fabulous talent that the McMahons and ‘powers that be’ have been hiding backstage to make their mark on history.

Mustafa confronts Drew McIntyre about facing Goldburg at the Royal Rumble when there were plenty of wrestlers he could have faced from his own generation.

McIntyre looks like he’s about to retaliate, but Charlotte and Randy walk out onto the stage, flanked by Retribution. McIntyre pauses enough for Mustafa to continue.

“Respect had nothing to do with it. He called you out because he wanted to be relevant again. Because he wanted a paycheck. If you’d done your job, you would have reminded him that by retaining your World Title, that he was no better than Brock Lesner for being a three-appearance-a-year wrestler.”

He gets slapped, and Claymore kicked for pointing it out. Randy and Retribution come to his aid, beating McIntyre down. They undermine his matches after that, even going so far as to take out Sheamus and Keith Lee, dragging them to the ring to prove a point to the Scotsman.

They do the same to Jeff Hardy, Bobby Lashley, Daniel Bryan, and any Legend-apologists.

Wrestlers start to choose sides. Most of them agree with Retribution’s influence.

Ricochet is the only one that remains truly neutral, and mostly because he knows Mustafa Ali best.

He doesn’t face him head-on; not in the ring. Mostly he confronts people with the opposites of their observations. If they are anti-Legends, he digs down as to why they believe that. If they are pro-Legends, he asks why they are so quick to disagree with their peers.

Charlotte and Randy both drop their last names, though Randy reluctantly.

***

Week 11 - September Week 2

McIntyre offers an open challenge, assuming Randy Orton will accept it

Mustafa answers instead and wins

McIntyre: “You won’t let him keep it. You’re not that kind of man, Randy.”

Asuka stands with McIntyre and the Legend Apologists

Charlotte tries to point out that Asuka was shoved into the shadow when she moved to the main roster from NXT. Her undefeated streak was broken.

Asuka: “Yes. By you!”

Asuka vs Mia Yim/Reckoning for the Women’s Raw Championship

It ends in a draw

Charlotte is ringside, but she never interferes

On Smackdown, Hunter meets with Roman Reigns

Hunter receives a cold reception

Seth Rollins won’t talk to him either

Roman and Seth don’t talk to one another or even look at each other’s matches, but they acknowledge each other’s presence backstage

***

Week 12 - September Week 3

McIntyre challenges Mustafa for the World Title back

Fails

Charlotte steps into the ring before he can rampage against Mustafa. They stare each other down.

McIntyre backs down claiming respect for her father. She slaps him.

Retribution and Randy step in front of her before he can retaliate.

McIntyre surrounded, Ricochet/Sheamus/Keith Lee/ other Legend Apologists come out t back him up

Asuka issues open challenge for the Raw Women’s Championship expecting Charlotte or Reckoning/Mia Yim to accept

Rhea Ripley answers the challenge, officially moving to Raw. She fights Asuka unaided and wins

***

Week 13: Confrontation - September Week 4

Hunter speaks to Randy again. Before it can break into a fight, Stephanie McMahon shows up with Charlotte and Mustafa quick on her heels.

Hunter has to look Mustafa in the eye while being blamed for not “upholding the promise you made.”

Mustafa calls him a future legend.

“You’re not in the way. You don’t fight unless provoked. That’s how a legend, how a legacy, should act. They need to stay out of this generation’s business until called upon.”

“Those that retire need to stay retired.”

***

Week 14 - October Week 1

Charlotte dares MVP to put Lashley’s USA title on the line. She pokes and goads him until he accepts, much to Lashey’s chagrin

Open Challenge: Cedric Alexander answers and wins with Retribution’s help, since Shelton and MVP kept involving themselves in the match.

The other Retribution champions come out, holding their titles high.

Mustafa Ali with his Heavyweight title, Rhea Ripley with the Raw Woman’s title, and Cedric with the USA title. Randy and Charlotte stand behind them, hovering.

That Friday on Smackdown:

Hunter visits Roman again, warning him about the impending Survivor Series show coming up.

Hunter: “They might come for your championship too.”

Roman: “Let them try.”

***

Week 15: Survivor Series Season/Hunting Season - October Week 2

On Raw, there is a video package from Retribution promising that the whole WWE Universe was going to see the world in a new light, one provided by Retribution

Smackdown: Retribution/Randy/Charlotte invade Smackdown, beating up Roman and Smackdown’s Leged Apologists, including Daniel Bryan and Sasha Banks

Sami Zayn, Shinsuke and Cesaro, and Baron Corbin help with the destruction of their peers, aligning themselves with the Raw visitors

***

Week 16 - October Week 3

Smackdown and NXT invade Raw at the same time

Io Sharai and Damian Priest stare down Charlotte and Randy

The Undisputed Era faces down Retribution. Mustafa is shocked. They should be on the same side, he thinks.

Candice and Johnny fight Rhea and Cedric

There is no sight of Seth Rollins

***

Week 17: Survivor Series - October Week 4 Part 1 (Sunday)

Roman/Sasha vs Charlotte/Randy vs Damian/Io

Karrion Kross and Scarlet Bordeaux try to interfere, but Alexa Bliss and the Fiend prevent them, officially coming back after missing and silent for weeks

Undisputed Era vs Retribution eight-man tag match

Candice/Johnny vs Rhea/Cedric

They discuss their matches and philosophies before the PPV

***

Week 18 - October Week 4 Part 2 (Monday)

With the Fiend and Alexa back, that means trouble for Randy and Charlotte

The Fiend and Alexa are not aligned with Hunter. Corey Graves brings up the handprint the Fiend left on Hunter’s face the last time they met.

A Firefly Funhouse episode happens while the Fiend is in the ring. Wyatt has come back fully split into two pieces of himself: Bray and the Fiend

Randy and Hunter face off again

It suggests a possible alliance, at least as far as defeating Wyatt

Stephanie disagrees with the alliance; Charlotte convinces her.

***

Week 19 - November Week 1

A pre-filmed cinematic match shows off the triple threat tag match

Charlotte/Randy vs Hunter/Stephanie vs Fiend/Alexa

Retribution tries to interfere by helping Charlotte and Randy. Most of them are beat down, though Mustafa fights through enough to stare down the Fiend.

Charlotte/Randy/Mustafa win the match

Wyatt: “The whole Universe is in your hands.”

He backs off

***

Week 20 - November Week 2

The stage crackled and popped with bursts of lighted fire. By the ring, Michael Cole and Corey Graves caught the home viewers on last week’s recent events. The trio of Charlotte Flair, Randy Orton, and Mustafa Ali had triumphed. 

“What do you think the Fiend meant,” Corey asked, “when he said that the Universe was in their hands?” He shuddered. “I don’t think it’s in the Fiend’s nature to give up on a potential… I hate to say it, but a potential Funhouse friend?”

Michael Cole winced. “I’m more concerned that the Fiend was able to say something more than ‘let me in.’ I hope it doesn’t mean he’s getting stronger. Either way, it means that the strange alliance of Charlotte, Randy, and Mustafa Ali has proven their point. And it means their path is clear for… whatever next step. What will it be?”

“Whatever they want it to be, I guess.”

In the ring, the said trio was prepared to announce such a plan. Standing at each of the turnbuckles were the members of Retribution and the other champions. 

Charlotte stepped forward. Her smile glowed with assurance. “We did everything we set out to do.” Looking at Randy she said, “we defended the WWE Universe against the Fiend and Alexa Bliss.” Looking at Mustafa, she added, “even more, we have freed the Universe from being held back by the dead weight of so-called Legends. From here on out, anyone… absolutely anyone can earn their place in this ring by fighting on their own.” Sinking into herself, she thought of the arguments against them. Against her. “As for those with a legacy behind them. The steps they take to get here, to get to this ring… as long as they use their own skill to build up their own name, they will be welcome competitors here.”

To one side, Mustafa nodded. Charlotte had come a long way. Even further than her NXT days when she first fought against her father’s legacy. To the other side, Randy Orton crossed his arms. His face was a practiced mask. He eyed Mustafa warily. 

The stage lit up again. It startled the group in the ring as “Burn it Down” played overhead. 

Seth Rollins had returned to Raw. 

The group in the ring rushed to the ropes as he was joined by two more people. 

To his left, Austin Theory stepped out. To his right, Becky Lynch stepped out. 

Charlotte stood a little straighter, seeing her old friend there. At the sight of his constant rival, Randy gripped the ropes so tight, his knuckles ached. Mustafa Ali simply smiled. 

The more things changed in wrestling, the more they stayed the same.

***

***

Masterlist 

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[corancoranthemagicalman]

@vencurial (it won’t let me tag you??) asked for some Jealousy, “he’s mine” and how could I not?? 5+1 (and I’ll eventually post all these drabbles to my AO3)

1.

The thing is, Jaskier does not get jealous. He evokes jealousy (spouses, betroths, etc, etc, the list really could go on, couldn’t it?) but he doesn’t get jealous. That is until Geralt, apparently. Geralt of Rivia instills many feelings in Jaskier, one of which is that green-eyed monster that is closely followed by the raging beast in his gut.

So when a busty barmaid with fair skin and red hair that falls perfectly over the swell of her large bosom proceeds to lean said bosom into Geralt’s arm, well, Jaskier becomes a jealous man.

He clears his throat, stage smile plastering across his face as he waltzes toward his lovely beau and the girl painted in red. “Hello!” He greets, happily leaning a palm on Geralt’s opposite shoulder as he reacher’s for the Witcher’s ale. “I see this tavern has some fair hands-on service, eh?” Jaskier teases, looking to Geralt. “You look tired from our far travels, though, Geralt. How about we retire for the evening?”

Geralt grunts, turning to face Jaskier with a silent expression save for the raise of his brow. Jaskier answers with a smirk, an unspoken promise of the hands-on service he can provide back up in their room. “Hmm,” those yellow eyes turn to his ale that is currently held in Jaskier’s hand. He snatches it from the bard before standing.

The Witcher is already pushing Jaskier bodily up the stairs as he looks over that large shoulder to catch the gaze of the barmaid. “He’s mine,” he mouthes the words to her.

2.

The thing is, Jaskier is apparently a jealous creature. He supposes that he should have expected it sooner. His heart has always fallen fast and hard. Now that it has spilled into the permanent fixture of his Witcher, why should he love any less deeply? So this time when it’s a young knight of Temeria trying to ask for sword practice, well, Jaskier has thrown around enough innuendos to know what that means.

“Geralt!” The bard shouts as he limps toward him, lute in hand. “I was wondering when we were going to be leaving? What Temeria has in beauty it lacks in action.” Jaskier pouts as he caresses the lute in his hold.

“Jaskier,” it’s almost a reprimand on his tongue, “you’re still not well enough for the trip.” Geralt’s eyes roamed over Jaskier’s figure, but not in that lovely and hungry way he knew so well.

Jaskier gaps for a moment. Huffing in indignation, Jaskier swings his lute to his back that way he can properly cross his arms. “Well, if I had known how to wield that bloody sword you had decided to throw at me, perhaps I could!”

It was almost a growl that escaped the Witcher’s lips. “You refuse all of my lessons.” Those golden eyes pierced Jaskier’s weak leg. “And now is not the time for swordplay.”

The bard chuckled a laugh, smirking. “I don’t need my legs to know how to play with a sword.” He allowed his eyebrows to dance across his features, purposefully ignoring the young man beside them.

“Jaskier,” came another warning from the Witcher, but the warning was short-lived as he sighed. “Come on, you stupid lark.”

While any other time, Jaskier might have resented the term of endearment, instead he kept his eyes to the young knight. A smirk of victory as if he had won that sword fight blossomed across his face. “He’s mine,” he mouths again.

This time it might be more of a whisper.

Either way, Geralt hears it.

Dammit.

3.

The thing is, Jaskier is fucking jealous. There’s a princess thrusting herself in dance upon Geralt unlike the barmaid or the knight ever had. Not only is it very unbecoming of the royalty, but it’s rather rude of her to throw herself at Jaskier’s Witcher. Still, he can’t exactly cut in so he keeps playing, strumming without his heart really being in it.

The band he’s playing with, the kingdom’s actual band that isn’t a famous bard invited, they seem to be invested in his plight. He tries to keep his eyes off Geralt lest he draws too much attention, but how can he not look at that man? Jaskier turns his attention elsewhere with force, playfully winks and sings stories about maidens and men, monsters and gold.

It’s when he’s switching songs that it happens. He looks up for a moment only to see the princess reaching for Geralt’s very well endowed self that he almost breaks the string on his precious lute. His eyes go wide and if his rage at the slight against his relationship was not enough, the genuine discomfort on Geralt’s face is enough to have him raise his voice.

“Excuse me, princess!” He shouts, the band behind him stopping and the dancers halting as he leaps from the stage, swinging his lute behind him as his steps quicken. “But I believe you’ve delighted yourself a bit too much this evening. How about you have a good sit, my lady?”

The princess guffaws for a moment, wine heavy on her breath. “E-xcuse you?” She begins before her brother, a handsome man and the soon to be king, comes to rest his hand on her elbow.

“Elise.” He speaks gently. “I think our guest is right. You’ve been dancing all night. Rest?”

“I dance!” She exclaimed, figure wobbling for a moment, “with whoever the fuck I want!” Princess Elise turned to face Geralt with a drunk-flushed face. “He likes my dancing.”

Jaskier feels himself bristle at Geralt’s defense that the Witcher does not even get to speak. “Perhaps your dancing, but not your roaming hands.” He points a finger, momentarily forgetting decorum. The prince seems more embarrassed than angry though, so small saving graces.

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls. “Let’s go.” He commands them.

The bard wants to say more, but he can feel the tension in the room. Instead, he silently nods and follows Geralt out of the ballroom. He will not take a gig anywhere near here again.

This time, it doesn’t need to be said.

4.

The thing is, Jaskier thinks Geralt likes it when he gets jealous. Surely, it’s a very romantic notion. The idea of belonging. Jaskier can see the appeal in it. Perhaps not when he is the one blinded by jealousy and want, but he can see the appeal. Ideally.

This is not ideal.

An entire bloody fucking forest of nymphs with their hands everywhere is nowhere near ideal for Jaskier. Geralt, of course, is a very loyal man and does not reciprocate, but apparently, he is not above letting them touch. Their hands caress his arm, his bicep. One of them looks at his jaw with the tips of their fingers. Geralt is used to being observed, he was made after all. But this is different. They both know this is different.

Jaskier thinks, at first, Geralt is teasing him. Thinks maybe Jaskier is jealous that he too is not receiving this affection from the forest nymphs. But the thing is, Jaskier couldn’t give a shit about the forest nymphs. He would just like this perhaps consensual touching of his Witcher to stop right now thank you very much.

“Geralt?” Jaskier calls for him again. “I think I can hear Roach.” He curses internally at the terrible lie.

“I don’t hear her,” Geralt speaks truthfully and damn his Witcher hearing. He turns to look at the young nymphs (or perhaps old nymphs?) that worship his body like a love god. Oh, doesn’t Jaskier know that truth? But did they have to make it evident in their touching?

“Geralt,” Jaskier calls, this time his hands fall to his hips. “I don’t think we should spend the night, lest we stay forever?”

The Witcher grunts, shrugging his shoulders as he looks to the nymphs around him. “That’s a myth. Nymphs don’t-”

“I don’t care what they do, Geralt!” Jaskier shouts, throwing his hands in the air until he realizes who is surrounding him. He chuckles awkwardly, smile chagrin. “Not that you aren’t a lovely hosting party, really-” the bard begins to ramble before Geralt’s sigh cuts in.

Those large hands gently remove the reaching limbs and it seems that Geralt must swim through nymph to reach Jaskier. “We really must be going,” he tells the nymphs, or tree spirits, or whatever they are.

Jaskier raises his chin, nodding. “Yes, thank you.” He looks around them, nymphs growing agitated and dismayed as Geralt and Jaskier begin to step out of the clearing. “Uh, Geralt?”

Growling, the Witcher pulls his silver sword from his sheath, putting himself between the bard and the nymphs. “Run.” He ushers Jaskier with the command, but the bard can not help but pull Geralt with him.

“He’s mine!” He shouts as much as his exhausted body will allow as they run.

5.

The thing is, Jaskier needs Geralt. More than just a soft conversation over a bath might imply. Jaskier needs Geralt as in the other part of that very same conversation. As in the someone who wants Geralt. He wants and needs Geralt. More than his Witcher, but the forever love of his life. Even if Geralt does not want him or need him.

Geralt is still in Jaskier’s arms and the bard feels like cursing him. Cursing that stupid fucking Witcher who had taken his heart from the first. So carelessly fought. Too late had Geralt of Rivia finally realized he was not invincible, eh? Jaskier grits his teeth, eyes burning.

“He’s mine,” he sobs, “he’s mine. Don’t take him.” Jaskier cradles Geralt closer, feels the rain wash away the caked mud. “Please, if Destiny has brought me to him, don’t let Destiny take him. Gods, he is mine.”

The rain is not soothing. It is cold, and it makes Jaskier feel lonely even as Roach whinnies at his back. It’s not until a deep gasp for breath that shakes both Geralt and Jaskier that Jaskier feels warmth again.

This time, Jaskier does not need to say it for Geralt to know it.

+1.

The thing is, Jaskier apparently really loves when Geralt gets jealous. The Witcher is seething from the other side of the room, jaw ticking as he clenches his mug of ale. Jaskier winks, turning back to his playful conversation with one of several wanting suitors it seems.

He can’t really tell what they’re speaking about. It’s not that Jaskier doesn’t care entirely, he just has a greater game he’s playing. A game that only ends when those golden eyes burn so bright before stalking toward him. He grins, mouth full of teeth to match the bared canines of his White Wolf.

“The bard,” Geralt growls out and Jaskier is already standing, “is mine.”

[louisstdo253]

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[plaidamoosette]

Call Me By My Name

RK900 x Reader

Part I | Part II | Part III

A/N: So, thank you for bearing with me on things. Life is... ugh. Any way I was driving home when I thought of this and I just wanted to get it out before it I lost it. Thank you for reading! Remember, feedback is always accepted!

Summary: You are an ecstatic new detective in the Detroit Police Department. It has been three years since the Android revolution, and now that they are a freed people, they are making decisions for themselves and their careers. One of these Androids is now your partner. The newest RK model, the RK900. He’s cold, distant, calculating... and oddly alluring. And with your first case on the line, you have to learn how to cope with a partner that holds you at arm’s length while fulfilling a desire that has been burning in your belly since you were a child. Revenge.

Words: 3180

–– October 7, 2041 ––

Stepping through the automatic doors, you take in a deep breath, basking in the glow of the moment. Swiveling your head to drink in the view around you, you examine the people milling about in the lobby.

Residents with complaints to file, police officers dragging in a thug here and there, detectives, city councilmen, lawyers... all illuminated in the golden morning glow.

The floor was polished perfectly, creating only a slightly blurred mirror image of the people as they crossed the surface. 

Finally, you follow the foot traffic to the front desk, fidgeting within your cozy jacket.

The android at the front desk smiles at you, her LED blinking yellow as she looks at you. A real name-tag was pinned to her blouse, and she was wearing normal clothes. The only way to identify her as an Android, was the LED, swirling around on her temple.

“Welcome to the Detroit Central Police Station. How may I help you?” Her perfect teeth glint in the bright orange light that filters through the windows, the rising sun almost setting the room ablaze.

“Yes, um, my name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and I’m looking for Captain Fowler. I’m a new detective?” Why did you say that as a question? You clench your sweaty hands, tucking them into the pockets of your coat.

“Of course miss. He’s expecting you. He’s through the gates, down the hall, and straight through the precinct. His office is in the back, through the large glass doors.” She gestures with her hands, arm sweeping out to guide you in the right direction.

“Thank you,” you return her smile, following her orders.

It has been three years since the revolution of the androids, and things were finally smoothing over. It was October, you’d finally graduated from Wayne State University, and after months of ceaselessly sending your resume to the Captain... he finally responded.

With great anticipation, you walk up the small set of stairs before cracking open the door.

“Captain Fowler, sir, you were expecting me, my name is-” you couldn’t finish as he interrupts you with a hand suspended in the air.

“Believe me kid, I remember who you are. Sit down, I have a lot to cover with you,” the large man scowls, gesturing to the seat in front of his desk. You comply quickly,  removing your jacket and scarf and draping it over the back of your chair before sitting down.

“I have a few more papers for you to sign. Here’s your badge, keep it on you at all times. And this-” he slides a card over to you, “is the ticket for you to take to inventory where you will receive your weapon and other necessities.”

You nod your head, eyes quickly skimming over the papers, searching for any statements that would stand out as a red flag to you. You scribble your signature over the lines, nodding your head as he laid out the rules and regulations, referring multiple times to the Faculty Handbook, before tucking all of the paperwork back into the manilla folder, marked with your name. After thirty minutes, the papers are back on Fowlers desk.

He smacks a hand over the file, retrieving it from you, before rising.

“Now, I’ve got a lot of paperwork to catch up on,” he pulls the door of his office open, poking his large head out. “Anderson! Get in here, I need you for a moment.”

You were silent for a few breaths. You knew exactly who was headed your way. The man who inspired you to pursue this path, who reminded you to stay strong and fight on... Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

The aged man slowly strides into the office, a sour expression on his face. You could see he was biting his tongue from making some remark to the Captain. Probably since there was a guest in the office as well-- you.

“Yes, Captain?” Hank rests into his standing position, resting right next to you. Fowler walks back around to his desk, taking a seat.

“Lieutenant, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She’s the newest detective. Top of her class in the academy, and valedictorian. She also has a bachelors degree in criminal justice and a minor in psychology, and graduated from Wayne State University-- again top of her class... she has a very impressive resume,” Fowler reads over the paper you had faxed to him. There was a stack about an inch thick... all of which were your resume. “So impressive she felt the need to send it over and over again, almost every damn day since she graduated. She fought for this job, Anderson, and as Lieutenant, it’s your job to train her and get her situated with a partner.

“Wait, is she my new partner? What about Connor?” Hank speaks up, his gruff voice sounding slightly distressed. He takes a step towards the desk.

“Now don’t get riled up-- he’s still your partner, she is just going to be shadowing you for the week. She needs to be familiar with the precinct, her duties, her coworkers, and our process.” Fowler defends, his hands rising.

“Unless you have any more questions, then you’re dismissed.”

A heavy breath leaves Hank’s chest, before finally looking down at you. He jerks his head to the left, hands stuffing themselves in his pockets.

“C’mon kid,” he mutters, opening the door and holding it as you quickly gather your things, before following him out the door.

“Wow... c-can I just say that... I am absolutely, and totally honored to meet you- I grew up reading about you in the news and stuff, and I was inspired when you became the youngest Lieutenant in Detroit, and I just wanted to say that I look up to you, and you are an amazing detective, and I can only hope to be as good as you, you’re the reason I found a passion to become a police detective, so thank you-” you couldn’t stop the rambling flow of words spilling from your mouth, but Hank held up a hand.

“I’m gonna just stop you right there kid. Thanks,” Hank coughs, looking down, his cheeks almost appearing pink. “I’m honored, really. So thanks. Nice to meet you.”

He reaches out and you shake his hand eagerly. He chuckles when you release, casually wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Just breath, okay? No need to be nervous. I’ll show you to your desk, and then I’ll give you a tour.” Hank grins, his smile reaching into his heavy gray beard. Your face heats up, and you nod, wiping off your sweaty palms, following him down the rows of desks and detectives.

It took about an hour for Hank to show you around the entirety of the Detroit Central Police Station. You brain felt stretched and exhausted from taking in so much new information, but you were too excited to care.

Everyone seemed very nice, and you were glad to see that the Station had a good handful of Androids in the mix-- free androids, working according to their own desires.

“I see you’ve got some new meat, Anderson,” a voice pops up behind you, and you jump slightly, both you and Hank turning around.

“Oh, it’s you.” Hank grumbles, before looking at the wall. “(Y/N) this is Gavin Reed. Gavin, (Y/N).”

You wondered why Hank sounded so disgusted with Gavin’s name. He seemed nice enough, although he donned what seemed like a permanent mischievous smirk, and a scar across his nose.

“Nice to meet you,” Reed steps forward, swallowing his hand in your own. He then stepped just a little close, leaning towards you, invading your personal space. “I’m sure I’ll get to know you pretty well, eventually.”

“Alright, back off Reed,” Hank’s arm shoots own, pushing the man back, his other hand resting on your shoulder. “We’re not through with her tour, and I’ve got work to do.”

Gavin glares at Hank before taking a second to wink at you, shrugging his shoulders and straightening his jacket, and then walking off towards the break room.

“Gavin is the Station’s designated asshole. Don’t let him get to you. If he becomes too much of a problem, let me know and I’ll make sure to take care of it.” Hank looks down at you, and then jerks his head. “Let’s go get your gun now. Then I’ll show you how to work the terminal.”

So far, the most intimidating thing about the day was working on your terminal. It was a newly updated system, and it took about an hour for you to get the hang of it, but Hank was very helpful in assisting you through the whole process.

But now, your account was filed, and all of your information was in the data base. Now, all you had to do was get to work.

“So... where do I start?” You peer up at the man, and he grins.

“Paperwork. Welcome to the DPD, kid. You’ll be writing reports for the next month,” Hank pats you on the shoulder in sympathy. “There’s a folder in your terminal, it’ll have instructions and a list of your daily tasks. Sorry sweetheart, it won’t last long. You’re fresh meat is all, so Fowler will push all of the boring stuff to you.”

A sigh escapes your lips and you nod solemnly, gazing back down at the computer. “I understand. Thank you, Lieutenant Anderson.”

“Just Hank is fine,” he tips his head to you, before crossing the walkway to his desk, which was only a few spots away from your own.

Gritting your teeth, you find your folder, and quickly scan through it, picking the smallest file to begin a report over it.

–– November 4, 2041 –– As the week passed, you eventually found a rhythm at work, and it quickly became comfortable. It almost began to feel as if you had been there for months already.

Then your second week came, and it was the same tedious thing. And then another week. As the days passed, you were growing restless. There you were, sitting at you desk every damn day while all of the detectives around you were hard at work on their own cases... and you were filing paperwork. Writing and re-writing reports.

You had lost count of how many of Gavin’s reports you had to re-write. He has no idea what a dictionary is, and certainly has no idea that proper punctuation exists.

You easily remembered his break schedule, and made sure to avoid it-- meanwhile, you also took note of the various times in which Hank would decide to show up to work, often times in rumpled clothes and a grouchy disheveled demeanor.

You met Connor on your second day. You almost couldn’t tell he was an Android. He easily adapts to the human behaviors around him, and it seems like this is his natural environment. He is very courteous, and usually takes a few minutes of the morning to check on you and ask you how you are liking the job so far.

He’s always there before you-- probably due to his natural Android punctuality. Regardless, his morning chats helped the day pass faster.

The sweetest part was how he and the Lieutenant interacted with each other. In your eyes, it almost looked like Hank saw Connor as a son. And as different as they obviously are, you could see this nearly invisible thread that tied them together, intertwining their lives.

Hank was helpful and always made sure that your jobs were going smoothly, although you voiced your frustrations, he continuously assured you that it’s all normal.

It wasn’t until almost a whole month passed that you got fed up with being put to such work. Maybe once a week, sure. But not every day, for a month.

With a fire in your heart, you set your shoulders in determination, and knocked on the glass outside of Fowler’s Office. He looks up from his terminal, before waving for you to enter.

“Sir... I just have to speak my mind. I need to do something real-- not just writing reports. I didn’t go through as much training as I have just so I could write and re-write a thousand reports for cases ranging from muggings to freaking drug busts.” You start, positioning yourself in front of his desk.

“And what exactly did you have in mind?” Fowler folds his fingers, leaning back in his seat.

“I’m not sure... just anything but reports,” gritting your teeth, you hold your ground.

“As it so happens, the detective you replaced-- who retired-- was head of clearing out the cold cases we have. It’s hard work, and it’s not always rewarding... but it would give you something other than reports to work on. Or, you can transfer to another division.”

Biting your lip in contemplation, you look down for a moment, considering the options. You’d heard rumors of how Fowler was an ass, you just never believed anyone could be this much of an ass.

“I’ll take the cold cases.” You sounded dejected and defeated, but it was all you could do. You had to be in this division... you had plans.

“I’m expecting you to live up to the potential I was promised from your records. And, I’m assigning you a partner. It’ll help. And, maybe you’ll make more progress than the last agent.”

“A partner?”

“That’s what I said. He’s an Android, the newest prototype that Cyberlife was in the process of making before they were shut down. Considering how Androids now have rights and are considered alive, they couldn’t just shut him down, so they sent him to us to use him, until he decides otherwise.” Fowler explains.

“But... why me?” You cock your head to the side, pondering the idea.

“Don’t pester me-- you ask too many questions. Just say ‘yes sir’ and then get the hell out, like the others do.” Fowler snaps, and you nod, thanking him and bidding him a good day before stealing away from the glass office.

An android partner? You couldn’t wait to tell Connor that he would soon have a fellow Android in the Station that wasn’t a desk clerk. A spark of join settled in your heart at the thought of working on your first case.

“Hey Connor,” you smile when you spot the Android standing next to your desk, “you would not believe what Fowler just... told me..”

“As I’m sure you are now aware, I am not Connor. Although I do share a strikingly similar face with my predecessor, I am a different model. I am the newest RK unit. An RK900.” The man speaks, and it shocks you for a moment when his striking blue eyes meet yours. He was almost a perfect mirror to Connor... almost.

His hair was much darker, almost black, and his eyes were his most striking feature. A bright blue, instead of like Connor’s sweet brown orbs. He was dresses in a Cyberlife uniform, his unit model and number on the breast of the jacket. The collar reached up to his chin, and he donned a black button-up beneath the jacket, with matching pants.

His face was expressionless, and you were under the impression that he was still stuck in factory mode. Not a deviant, yet anyways.

“Right...um... My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I guess you are my new partner, then?”

“Correct,” his posture remains stiff, hands clasped behind his back. He was a few inches taller than Connor, causing you to crane your neck back just a hair, in order to meet his eyes.

“Do you have a name?” You ask as he takes a seat at his new desk, pressing his hand to the terminal screen.

“I do not. But I am perfectly fine being referred to as RK900. Will this be my desk?” The most intimidating part of him was the fact that he never once broke eye-contact with you, as if he were challenging you, daring you to be the weak one and look down.

“Uh... yes. I’ve been assigned to solving the cold cases, so I guess we should start searching our terminals for them.”

“I can perform the search through the terminal for a case. What would be your preferences.” He didn’t say it like a question, more like a reassurance.

“Uh...” you were having a hard time clearing your head. His eyes flicker up to meet yours again, his hand still on the screen. “Maybe look for an older one?”

RK900 simply nods his head, his gaze drifting off to the side, blinking rapidly. You could see the light of the screen reflecting over him as he flipped through the files.

You suck in a breath, clasping your hands as you waited. You felt like a child, waiting for her parents or something.

“How about a murder, 2019. Downtown Detroit. Corktown to be specific. The victim was a 19-year-old female,” the Android begins. That peaked your interest.

“Go on,” you murmur, listening intently.

“Cause of death, gunshot wound. Her body was found in an alley way right in front of her workplace. There are no known witnesses, the only evidence was on her person, and there are no further leads, but it is the most recent case that involves a murder.” The RK900 unit glances back up from the screen, his eyes meeting yours once more.

“Well, it’s better than writing reports. Where do we start?” You rise from your seat, grabbing your necessities and the coat from the back of your chair. He follows, straightening the stiff-collared Cyberlife uniform jacket.

“I’d say we should start by contacting the parents. The victim’s name was Barbara O’Connell. Her parents are still registered under the same address. I’ve already sent the coordinates to your GPS,” his voice remained the same cool tone, and you stumbled for a second.

“How did you know...,” leaving your sentence hanging, he quickly answers it.

“When I was told who I would be working with, I did as much research about you that was available to me. I traced your license identification and from that, found your insurance and the car registered under it. The masterboard inside of your vehicle had all of the information I needed to connect to the GPS-” he was intent to explain in excruciating detail, step by step, how he found out about you... you quickly stopped him.

“I get the idea.... RK900?” You words hitch at the end as the awkward name passes your lips. “I can’t call you that. It makes you sound like a device. How about... Arkay? Oh, or Nines?”

“Nines?” He ponders the name for a few beats, until his lips quirk at the corners in a small smile. “I like that. I will refer to myself as such from now on.”

You couldn’t help but return the smile, reaching out to shake his hand. He stares at it before complying. “It’s nice to meet you, Nines.”

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