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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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A FRESH START [20]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: description of injuries, language, spoilers for S3 The Mandalorian, mentions of death experiences, anxiety, PTSD references

Word Count: 5,066

Updates every Thursday

#20: SHORT STICK BEARS HIS WRATH

"you can't heal if you pretend you're not hurt." -aliza grace

Grogu had a habit of making friends wherever he went. So, it didn’t surprise Din to see that a bulk of Ari’s crew were gushing over his son and offering him different things to play with. After parking the N1 and walking to the address Ari messaged him, what looked like an old fighting gym, he entered to see a small group of people surrounding Grogu who stood on the table and babbled. They listened intently, cooed back to him, and offered him a variety of objects to either eat or play with.

Din’s eyes landed on Ari who was sitting in a desk chair, feet kicked up and ankles crossed, while frowning at the sight. When her gaze drifted toward him she blew out an annoyed breath of air. “Finally. Can you please take your son and go? It seems while he’s around my crew is,” Ari turned to yell out the next words at the people surrounding Grogu, “Incapable of doing their kriffing jobs!”

“The stressors of running a criminal empire.” Din snorted.

“Aw, you think my little show is an empire?” Ari grinned impishly. “That’s cute. I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ve reached that level of notoriety yet.”

“Yeah, well, I have faith in you.”

Din knew her main skill set was in smuggling. He assumed that’s what she was still doing, just branching out and roping others in. Still, Din wasn’t too worried about breaking up her party or shining a spotlight down on her. Of all the evil Din had seen in the galaxy, Ari was harmless. Well, mostly harmless.

“Hey boss, can we keep it?” A large man turned and pointed to Grogu who had his hands up in the air as he babbled about a story.

“Him, you idiot.” Ari corrected. “It’s Mando’s son.”

“Oh, sorry.” The man replied. “Can we keep him?”

“See what I mean? Useless.” Ari scoffed. Din called out for Grogu who took the time to gather up all the snacks being offered to him then jumped into his pram to drift over. Ari crossed her arms and snapped for the others to get back to their jobs. They gradually drifted away. She looked at him. “So? How’s the doc?”

Din tilted his head. “Left him thirty minutes outside the city to crawl back.”

“That all?”

“I may have…” Din chose his words carefully. “Stacked the odds against him.” Ari chuckled in amusement and he nodded. “I need you to keep an eye on that for me.”

“How so?”

“Make sure there’s a corpse, and if there isn’t,” Din shrugged nonchalantly, “Make one.”

The request rolled off his tongue as if he were in Nevarro going to his neighbor’s house to ask for some sugar. Din saw no issue in his request. If he wasn’t on such a time crunch in his eagerness to return to you then he’d stick around and double check for himself.

Ari nodded. “Alright. I’m counting that as two favors now though. So, you owe me.” Din dragged his helmeted gaze to look at her and raised an eyebrow in skepticism as if she’d be able to see. Ari read the tone enough to snicker. “Fine. Fine. We’re even then.”

“Deal.”

“So,” Ari whistled, “If you and your ‘not wife’ ever tie the knot will I get invited to the wedding? Do Mandalorians have weddings?”

“Stop talking.” Din shook his head and turned to leave. He chuckled under his breath. Grogu followed after him⏤ the child’s cheeks full of some local dessert. Great, now he’d be bouncing around the cockpit of the N1 for Maker knows how long.

Ari called a good-bye after him as he left. “Nice seeing you too, Mando! Safe travels!”

Nima told you not to freak out. Her exact words had been, ‘Alright, everything is okay and you are safe and it’s all going to be fine but you need to know this’. Your first horrific thought was that the news would somehow involve your boys. It had been a knee jerk fear that filled your entire soul with dread. Then Nima followed it up with, ‘Kurt’s trial was put on hold’.

And, as wild as it was, you felt relief. That had been your initial reaction. Before Nevarro, hearing those words would have made you immediately throw up. But in this situation, all you could think was how grateful you were that the bad news didn’t involve Din or Grogu.

“I’m sorry.” Nima murmured and you could see how devastated she was to share this news with you. She was the kind of person who felt every emotion she had so deeply. It’s why she was so lively and bubbly as her day to day happiness shined through. However, in moments like this, it broke your heart to see her so empathetic to your own pain. “I went back and forth on telling you, but you made me swear to update you on any news I thought was important and this seemed important. Plus, I didn’t want you to hear on accident from somewhere else or⏤”

“Nima.” You reached out to squeeze her arm and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” The longer the news lingered in your mind the more it began to unravel your sense of peace. “What happened? Do we know why?”

She shook her head. “They won’t report it yet. Just that it’s delayed.”

Could trials be delayed right in the middle of it? You didn’t know a lot about law or the system surrounding it. Nima was rambling about something or another, trying to bring you comfort, but your thoughts drifted away. You wished Din were here. That wasn’t a surprising thought. Every single day since they left, multiple times a day really, you’d see something or think of something that made you crave their presence more than the baseline. Just yesterday you bought a bag of Grogu’s favorite blue cookies from the sandwich shop just for the hell of it.

You heard your name, mumbled in concern, and your focus snapped back to Nima who was staring at you as if she was waiting for you to crumble. Slowly, you could feel the edges of your nerves beginning to fray, but that’s what work was for right? Distract you from all those dangerous thoughts and fears.

“Seriously. I am okay.” You reassured her once more. “This stays between us, right?”

“Of course.”

Your day carried on as if the news hadn't been shared with you. It would be the one day you wanted to keep busy that all of Nevarro decided to be the picture perfect definition of health. It was in part due to the droid being repaired which took off a lot of lower level urgent cases rather than emergent and it even saw some people with active conditions routinely. That would be it's primary purpose until the new guy that Karga hired eventually got out here.

When you went home for the night, you had only been moving around the kitchen for a few minutes, getting dinner ready, when your com rang for a holocall. You set your armband on the island counter to stand and answer. Grogu’s face immediately filled the entire screen with a loud ‘Ma!’ which pulled a laugh out of you. You needed that.

“Grogu, share.” Din replied though you could only barely see him behind Grogu’s face.

“No.” Grogu replied simply before he began to babble about his day. He was getting better at expressing himself every day and you were picking up on words like ‘new friends’, ‘more food’, and even something that sounded like he was trying to tell you there was someone he didn’t like. Din sighed loudly, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.

“Uh huh.” You nodded your head, giving the little green boy your full attention, “Tell Ma all about it, baby.” It wasn’t until a solid five to ten minutes later that Grogu was appeased with the amount of attention from you that he was willing to share with his father. He wiggled out of the camera’s space so you could actually see Din, and the boy waved with a quick ‘Love Ma!’. You actually felt your heart tighten in your chest. “Love you too, baby.”

Grogu crawled away, probably to stir up trouble where he could find it on the small ship, and you bit back tears. The longer you sat with the news about Kurt the more you felt wired and anxious. Getting to talk to Grogu and see the cheerful boy made a world of difference.

“Mama’s boy.” You heard Din mutter with a chuckle while watching Grogu crawl away to wherever he went. His gaze quickly focused back on you and he let out a soft sigh. “Ner kar’ta. How was your day?”

“It was fine.” You leaned against the counter.

For the next half hour, you and Din talked about anything and everything. He told you about how the rest of his trip on that Outer Rim planet went, and he told you he dealt with Daelar. Din didn’t give you details on the specific, but you found that you didn’t really need them. You didn’t really care. Then you told him about your day, but gradually the two of you got off topic and trailed on about other things. Din was speaking, you could hear the sound of his comforting voice, but you found yourself accidentally zoning out. Your mind not falling into a specific thought, but just drifting away. It wasn’t until the third time that Din called out to you that you realized he had been doing so in the first place.

“Hm? Sorry.” You shook your head.

Even through a holocall, halfway across the galaxy, you could see the worry that Din wore. He had shifted forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, and there was a tension in his shoulders. If that didn’t give him away then the tilt in his head and the tone of his voice did. “What’s wrong? You’re troubled.” He didn’t ask if you were troubled. He just knew you were. “Tell me. Are you okay?”

“I am. I promise.” You replied. The last thing you wanted to do was worry him. Knowing Din, if you told him about Kurt he would do something drastic like immediately come back to Nevarro. Which, on one hand, was tempting, but it would just mean he’d need to leave again. Plus, you knew how important this mission was to him. You were not going to intercede with your own issues and drama. So, you decided on a lie of omission. “This afternoon there had been a patient with a chronic illness I didn’t remember much of. He was also Rodian and their anatomy is a blur to me. So, it was a lot of research and just working on the fly and I guess my brain just won’t let it go. I’m second guessing myself.”

Din’s entire body relaxed, but he stayed leaned over so he was closer to the camera⏤ closer to you. “Don’t. You’re incredible at what you do and immensely clever when you need to think on the spot.” You felt your cheeks warm at his blatant complements. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the greatest physician in the galaxy.”

You snorted. “Right. And that’s your totally unbiased opinion.” Din nodded. “All that medical knowledge you have makes you an expert in that decision.”

“I have twenty plus years of working a cautery, thank you.” Din replied with a chuckle.

“Yes. Obviously, so qualified.”

“Fine.” Din’s voice took a teasing edge. “You’re the best physician in all of Nevarro. Is that better?”

You let out a loud laugh and just as it had eased your anxious heart with Grogu, Din settled your soul as well. Din was immensely proud of himself. You could see the smug air about him even through the holocall. When your laughter died down, you rested your chin on your hand to hold up your head.

“I miss you.” You mumbled.

Din sighed. “I miss you too, ner kar’ta. But it won’t be much longer.” You perked up. “I am stopping to speak to an…old friend.” The way he said the words made you doubt that this person was an actual friend⏤ or that the relationship was tumultuous at best. “Then on to Mandalore.”

A soft smile filled your features at the news.

“Ma! Ma!” Grogu was yelling again as he tried to get into the picture.

Din scooped the boy up to set him on his laugh and playfully scolded. “You had your turn, ad’ika. It’s my turn with Ma.”

“No. Me.” Grogu argued.

You watched in amusement as Din continued to tease Grogu into a silly argument on who got to have your attention. Maker, you needed them back soon.

Ever since Nima shared the news about Kurt, nightmares plagued you. It was an odd mix of past and future. Some nights Kurt would be carving into you, telling you that you didn’t deserve to live, and other nights you’d have to watch helplessly as he hurt Din and Grogu.

You preferred the nights where Kurt made you bleed.

That added to the fact that while on Mandalore Din was not going to be able to call you due to interference really distracted you. Sleep deprived and anxiety riddled while working in a clinic with medical tools was not the ideal combination. The bacta tank needed refreshing in case of emergencies and during a quiet moment in the office you had told Aayla you planned to get it done. It was dirty work, cleaning the bacta filters, but you didn’t mind it. You hoped forward motion, keeping yourself busy, would keep you awake and sane.

So, when your hand slipped on the mechanism, causing the thick filter door to slam shut on your hand, it had been entirely your own fault.

"Fuck!" You screamed in agony as you felt the bones in your fingers snap. Blinded by the panic, your natural instinct was to try to pull your hand out, but the door was closed too tight for it to budge. All it did was send sharp, lightning strikes of pain shooting up your arm.

Aayla was by your side in an instant and she was shouting commands or reassurances at you, but your mind was in a fog. Maybe it was the pain or the exhaustion, but your body slumped forward onto the bacta tank as your vision went black.

It came back seconds later, but you didn’t feel the same. Rather than pain, you felt the telltale sign of something running through your veins to bring you relief. You were also now lying on a cot rather than standing over the bacta tank.

“What are we supposed to do when the doctor needs a doctor?” Mayfeld scoffed. You couldn't see him from where you laid, but his voice was easily recognizable. So was Vanth’s who replied.

“Use the droid.”

“The droid? That’s your solution? Let the kriffing droid work on the woman Mando is head over heels for?” Mayfeld cried. “He’s better about the damn things, but if he heard about this he’d come back to Nevarro just to kill us. Then he’d somehow save our asses from the brink of death just so he can kill us again.”

You groaned and all your words came out groggily, “Stop talking. Both of you.” There was the sound of steps and suddenly it was Vanth’s face in your vision grinning down at you. “Why are you in here again?”

“Well, because the doc went and got her hand jammed up in some machinery.” Vanth replied. His words reminded you of the injury and you lifted your left hand to see a splint wrapped around your last three fingers. The ring finger was the worst, but all three were discolored and swollen. Vanth’s teasing tone switched to sincerity. “How’re you feeling, little lady?”

“Drugged.” You complained and rubbed your face with your good hand. The lack of pain was nice, but you hated how certain strong medications could make you feel.

“Yeah,” Mayfeld chimed, “That’s the e-bacta shot we gave you.”

“E-bacta??” You scoffed. “Where the hell did you get the e-bacta and why did you bring it into my clinic? That shit is illegal for a reason.” This version of bacta was so potent and strong that it was only one step down from spice, really. Addictive as hell and hard to keep from degrading. “Why did you do that?”

Vanth pointed at your broken hand. “Because that looks kriffing miserable. We’d put you in the tank altogether just to be cautious but we had to break the damn thing to get you unlodged from it.”

“Shit.” You forced yourself to sit up and the room spun. Both men reached out to steady you. “The tank is broken??”

Mayfeld snorted. “Yeah, and so is your hand. Focus on that instead.”

You rubbed your face in a poor attempt to gain some clarity. “Please tell me no one told Mando.”

Maybe he’d still be on Mandalore and there’d be no service for someone to tell him you got hurt. This was just like a few days ago when you learned about Kurt. You couldn’t make Din worry. He needed to focus on his own task and not be thinking about you.

“Told Mando?” Mayfeld cried. “Nobody wants to make the call and tell the indestructible tin can that we let his girl get hurt.”

Vanth shrugged. “We were gonna draw straws later. Us, Karga, Nima, Peli. Short stick has to bear his wrath.” He grinned at you. “But now that you’re up and talking, little lady, looks like we don’t need to do that.”

Mayfeld nodded and pointed at the man. “Yeah, good point. She should tell him. He won’t kill her.”

“Either stop talking or give me more e-bacta.” You grumbled.

Ignoring the well meaning but overbearing men, you cradled your broken hand in your lap. The splint on your hand was decent. You’d need something more permanent, but for a patch job it was solid. The sound of doors sliding open made you glance up to see Aayla fluttering in. She put her hands on her hips with a solid attempt of intimidation.

“I already chased out Nima. Now you two, as well?”

The men glanced at you and you tilted your head and added. “Go. Don’t tell Mando.” As they neared the door you called out one last time. “And…thanks, guys.”

You did appreciate them and how much they cared. Even if some of that caring just came from a healthy fear of Din. Not that you thought Din would actually hurt either man. They were friends and this had very clearly been your fault.

“Did you do this?” You pointed to your hand and Aayla nodded with a sheepish grin. “It’s good. It’s really good, Aayla.” The woman beamed at your praise and you chuckled. “Did you get any scans yet?”

“Yes. We did.” She brought over a datapad and opened up the program that held all the imaging. You took it from her to look over your own scans and winced. Dank farrik. Hairline fractures on your pinky and middle finger, and an actual break in your ring finger. No wonder you blacked out. “Do we need to get you to a facility? Does your finger need surgical correction?”

You praised her line of thought then shook her head. “The fracture will heal itself once splinted. In order to test the tendons I need the swelling to go down just a bit so I can try moving my finger.”

Aayla stepped away and then returned with a cream and some ice. She got you situated on the cot and lifted the bed so you could lay back without being entirely flat. She was going to be a good doctor one day. After she went through school and all that. You leaned your head against the pillow and shut your eyes. It would be best for you to get some solid shut eye while the e-bacta was in your system.

Since reaching Mandalore, everything had happened fast. Back to back to back, Din had what should have been considered one of the worst days of his life. Nearly dying three times qualified as a terrible day. However, Din was not dead. More than just not dead, he was redeemed.

Din Djarin was no longer an Apostate.

He was Mandalorian once more.

That alone could make this a wonderful day, but the knowledge that this meant he could proceed in pursuing you was overwhelming. If he thought about it for too long it’d send him to his knees. The first thing he wanted to do was call you, but that plan was derailed when Imps bombed Bo Katan’s home. Considering the woman had saved his life, and watched Grogu when he was unable, the least he could do was get her to safety. Maybe the covert wasn’t the best place for Bo Katan Kryze, but Din needed to go there anyway so why not use it as a shelter.

As Nima liked to say: two porgs, one blaster.

When everything had settled, the first thing he did was find a quiet spot to call you. Grogu was passed out in his arms and Bo Katan was sitting not too far away in contemplation.

“You alright?” Din questioned.

Bo hummed. “Suppose so. Not how I expected this day to go, but…”

“I’m sorry. About your home.”

“...Thank you.” Bo said after a beat of hesitation.

Din could tell she was still in distress. Lost in her thoughts. He could’ve pressed further, attempt to help her some more, but it would have to wait. If Din didn’t talk to you right now he’d burst. The excitement of being redeemed mingled with the knowledge that for a brief moment today he thought everything had been over.

He activated the holocall and leaned against the cave wall.

When your face appeared on the screen, Din sighed in relief. Being trapped on Mandalore, sending Grogu away, your face had been the last one he thought of. “Ner kar’ta.” He breathed out. Din didn’t even care that Bo was only a few feet away and able to hear his entire conversation. “You are…”

He was going to call her a sight for sore eyes, but you looked more than exhausted. Something was wrong. Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and you didn’t have that same glow that Din admired. Before he could question, you spoke, “You can call! That means you’re not on Mandalore anymore, right? How’d it go?”

“I am redeemed.” Din said with pride and despite how tired you look the smile you wore brightened in excitement. You cried out about how happy you were for him and how proud and how much you missed him and couldn’t wait to see him. Hearing that praise from you was somehow better than hearing the Armorer confirm he was no longer an Apostate. Din shook his head, deciding to steer right back to his concern, “You look terrible, ner kar’ta.”

You forced a chuckle. “Exactly what a girl wants to hear.”

“You are the most stunning woman I have ever known, and every day I get to see you, bask in your beauty, is a blessing I am undeserving of.” Din said sincerely and he watched your face twist in mild embarrassment. Your smile turning cute and sheepish. He grew serious once more. “But right now, you look ill. Hurt. So I will ask again," Din shook his head, "What. Is. Going. On?”

You twisted your lips, weighing pros and cons, and then with a sigh you lifted your right hand so it came into the screen’s view. Din’s eyes widened at the swollen and discolored look of your fingers wrapped in a makeshift split.

“Me’bana!? Cuyir gar o'r aaray??” Din barked. Grogu stirred briefly in his arms. “Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc!?”

“I don’t speak Mando’a, honey.” You sighed with a small amused smile.

If Din wasn’t so caught off guard and worried about the state of your hand, the nickname that fell from your lips so easily would have made him flush in warmth. Din shook his head. “Are you alright?? What happened?”

“It was stupid.” You shook your head. “Cleaning the bacta tank, I slipped up. Got my hand caught in the filter door.” That wasn’t like you. Typically, you were very cautious and careful with your work. “It looks worse than it actually is, I swear. The swelling has gone down a lot.”

Din narrowed his eyes at your wording. “How much time has passed? When did this happen, ner kar’ta?”

“...Yesterday?” You said it like it was a question.

“Ner kar’ta.”

“Yesterday morning.” You confirmed sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were on Mandalore. No service.”

Din tilted his head, “You tried to hide it at the start of this conversation. If I didn’t press, would you have told me about your accident?” You pressed your lips together and winced. Din blew out a breath of air. “Dank farrik. Ner kar’ta…”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” You said softly with a frown.

Din shook his head again, keeping his voice firm. “I need to know these things.” The thought that you were injured was staggering, but knowing you could be hurt and keep it from him? All he wanted in life was to protect you. Take care of you. “You need to tell me⏤”

“Why?” Bo suddenly called out loud enough that your face morphed into confusion at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “Did you tell her about how you nearly died three times today?”

Din flinched and your jaw popped open. The exhaustion seemed to be wiped away and replaced with a mix of anger and shock. “You what!?” Din began to speak but you cut him off. “You nearly died today!? Din! What the hell is the mystery voice talking about!?”

“Well, it wasn’t⏤”

“You were gonna scold me about my broken hand and not mention multiple near death experiences??” Din winced. That was a fair point. He didn’t see it from that side. The sight of your discolored and swollen digits had blinded him about every other detail of the day. “Din Djarin⏤ Do you have a middle name? I want to yell your entire name at you but⏤ never mind. Just⏤ Maker! Are you alright? Are you safe? Is Grogu⏤”

Din cut in, “Yes. To all of it. Grogu is safe,” He lifted his arm enough that she could see the snoozing boy, “I am safe, I am okay. In fact, I am less injured than you are right now.” He sighed. “And, you’re right. That wasn’t fair of me. I just… I panicked.”

Your gaze softened but the concern remained. “Yeah. I guess… As long as you guys are safe.”

“We are, and we’ll be home soon.” Din promised. Your lips twitched up into a smile. “Who is taking care of you right now?”

You chuckled. “Uh, me?”

Din hummed in displeasure. He should be there to help you⏤ to take care of you. It killed him to be this far from you. A part of him wanted to stand up right now and fly home, but he needed to talk to the Armorer tomorrow. He needed to have something forged.

“Maybe you should stay with Nima…”

“I can take care of myself, Din.” You grinned. “I’m the greatest doctor in the galaxy, remember?” Din chuckled under his breath. “You really are okay, though?”

Din nodded. “I swear to you, ner kar’ta.”

They only spoke for a few more moments because Din was adamant you go to bed even though it wasn’t very late in Nevarro. You just looked so exhausted. Maybe he’d talk to Karga about a vacation. If they got the new physician to move to Nevarro then the city could afford to spare you for a few days. Vanth could stay a little while longer to cover for him. Din just wanted to take you somewhere nice⏤ somewhere relaxing. Though he should probably focus on actually courting you before he starts thinking of honeymoon options.

When the holocall ended, Din glanced over at Bo who simply tilted her head at him. He scoffed, “Really?”

“Seemed like pertinent information.”

“Your hand still looks like shit.”

You glanced up at Nima with a tight lipped smile. “A little rude considering I saved your hand.” She snickered. She wasn’t wrong. The swelling had improved but the bruising still looked Maker awful. Though, with Aayla’s help you were able to get a real splint on it. “I thought you were bringing me lunch.”

“I thought you were going to come with me to lunch.” She argued.

Luckily, the clinic wasn’t busy. So you shrugged out of your white coat, leaving you in just your scrubs, and then followed Nima who was leading the way with a bounce. There had been no further news on the Kurt situation which left you in turmoil. However, Nima had been doing her best to distract you and anytime anxiety did try to wash over you, you just reminded yourself that your boys would be home in the next 48 hours or so.

“The Razor Crest project is going so well.” Nima clapped her hands. “I mean, we’re still missing some key pieces, but Peli and I are nearly done with the engine rebuild. Can you believe that?” You hummed in interest. It’d be nice to see it eventually. The Crest was such a strong presence in so many of Din’s story and Grogu’s pictures. Obviously, this wasn’t the exact same. Version 2.0, but still. “Peli said⏤”

The sound of a low rumble filled the air. As you, Nima, and all the other citizens standing outside paused to listen to the sound, a large shade began to cover the city. As if the sun was being blocked out. You looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge ship.

“Shit. That’s a Corsair.” Nima mumbled in shock. Just as the words left her mouth, an alarm began to blare loudly and the voice of a droid called for evacuation to the lava fields. You didn't even have a spare second to panic because that’s when blaster fire rained down on Nevarro.

mando'a translations

ner kar'ata: my heart Me'bana?: What happened? Cuyir gar o'r aaray?: Are you in pain? Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc?: How were you injuried?

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#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #a fresh start #female reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mando #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #fluff #angst/comfort #domestic bliss!din djarin

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spider-stark · 1 year

Text

GUTS

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Peter gets seriously hurt saving someones life, in the midst of panic your true feelings for him come out.

Warnings - Stabbing, blood, violence,

a/n - wow what i'm actually posting something that is WILD. anyways, i recently moved to a new apartment so for the past month my brain has been fried and i have had zero time to write. but, here is this lil blurb! and i am in the process of finishing up the next part of Infinitely You if anyone still wants to read it haha enjoy :)

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

He had gotten hurt. Really hurt.

It was a simple carjacking, or at least it was supposed to be simple. The type of petty crime he responded to all the time.

He had been so bored, legs dangling over the side of the Empire State building when he heard the call come through over the police scanner he’d been listening to. Finally, he thought to himself, webs already shooting from his wrists as he dived off the side of the building, some entertainment.

But everything went wrong.

So fucking wrong, so quick.

There was no time to think as he saw the streetlights dance along the steel blade of the pocket-knife in the carjacker's hand, its sharp edge just milliseconds away from plunging into the innocent man’s stomach. Peter could see the man’s kid in the backseat of the car, heard his shrill screams as he banged against the window, crying for his dad.

He let adrenaline guide his actions, throwing himself in front of the blade with not a hint of hesitation, shoving the innocent man to the asphalt as steel plunged through the fabric of his suit.

There was so much blood, so much that it left him feeling dizzy. His vision went spotty, struggling to aim for the carjacker as he tried to shoot his webs at him, hoping to stop him just long enough for the police to get here.

They have to be close, he could faintly hear the sirens blaring over the sound of his own heart thumping in his ears.

But, due to a heavy hand and blurry vision, he missed. How could he miss?

The man, the one he saved, was back on his feet and rushing to comfort his son. They hadn’t seemed to notice Peter yet, notice just what he had done, how he had potentially saved that man’s life. He was thankful for it, thankful that the kid was spared the trauma of watching it happen.

Peter stumbled into the alleyway, the same one the thief had run into, but he had no intentions of chasing the criminal down. He couldn’t, not in the state he was in.

It had taken every last bit of his strength to get to your house. To get to you.

You hadn't expected Peter to come by, but then again he rarely ever gave you notice, especially for visits like this. Late nights spent with a cheap dollar store sewing kit and the skill set of someone who had a mild interest in embroidery often being the only thing that stood between Peter and certain death. You hated when he came to you like this, but you’d never say it. You’d stitch him up a thousand times, put yourself through the horrors of watching your best friend nearly bleed out over and over again if it meant that he would still be here—that he would still be alive.

But this was the closest he had ever gotten to death, just barely holding on when he came crashing through your bedroom window. He was in and out of consciousness the entire time, as you removed the knife, stitched him up, and tried to clean his blood from your carpet. You worried that you would lose him, worried that he wouldn’t wake back up. But, by some stroke of luck, your security deposit was the only thing you lost that night.

Still, it was different this time. His super-healing had kicked in once he was awake, the blood beginning to clot and stop leaking out from your amaetuer stitch job. But you couldn’t shake that feeling, the terror and anxiety that consumed you when you had to come face-to-face with the idea of losing Spider-Man. Of losing Peter Parker.

He thought it was a fever dream. The thought of infection setting in to his fresh stab-wound much easier to believe than the possibility of his best friend, the girl of his dreams, suddenly leaning in and kissing him. But it wasn’t a dream, wasn’t his mind playing cruel tricks on him. You were here, right in front of him, your lips desperately moving against his own and your fingers getting tangled in his dark hair.

So many times he had dreamt of this. Dreamt of crossing the line between just friends and something more, a line that the two of you had been balancing on for years now. He always hoped that one day he would spill his guts to you, but had never quite expected to almost literally spill his guts to you, and certainly wouldn’t have expected it to end like this.

He was breathless when you pulled away, and he finally realized that he hadn’t even kissed you back, too lost in his own mind. “Wha-why?”

“I don’t want to lose you.”

It was a desperate answer to a desperate question, a single beat of silence passing before you followed it up, doubling down on the statement.

“I can’t fucking lose you.”

Peter’s already shallow breath caught in his throat, butterflies erupting in his stomach (or maybe it was just pain from his newly sustained stab wound, though he found butterflies to be far more romantic).

“You won’t.” He breathed out the promise, both of you unsure of whether or not it was one he could actually keep, though neither of you cared at this moment. Because for now he was here, he was alive, and he was finally yours.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but he didn’t care so long as it meant you would kiss him again.

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naisilla · 3 months

Text

The Emperor's New Muse Part .7

Odyssey Kayn x Reader

content: Yasuo takes the crew out for Karaoke, Someone else is also there...

It has been a while since you last saw the Ordinal Kayn. You weren't sure whether to feel grateful or uneasy about it. At every stop on a new planet, you would double check the ship's radar or constantly look over your shoulder when on foot.

In the meantime, the Morningstar has been going on adventurous side quests across the galaxy. From monster hunting to retrieving ancient artifacts, you were beginning to get used to the life of a space pirate.

Yet despite the air of normalcy, there was still the underlying threat of Kayn and the Demaxian empire. Wherever the Ordinal was, you knew he was hunting you down and he would never stop until he found you.

Kayn was a major threat to the universe, He was a brutal, merciless, and an insane Ordinal. But what really made him dangerous was that he was both insane AND intelligent.

Of course he was, the man was a military tactician before ascending to Ordinal status. Making him THE final boss of this endgame.

It was too risky to confront Kayn in any way. There had to be another way to resolve this, surely there was something or someone that could effortlessly stop Kayn in his path. Wait. There was someone.

"What if we went straight to the King to stop Kayn." You abruptly blurt out, The entire room goes silent at the sound of your proposition.

"And I thought I was crazy" Jinx remarks before returning to "Practise" her medical training on Malphite...with a blowtorch.

Yasuo chuckles and nods. "There's no way the King is going to listen to some space pirate. He's too self-absorbed and cowardly to ever step into the fray himself. Haven't you forgotten that I'm a wanted man for murder?"

"We're all wanted! In the eyes of the Empire, we are all criminals on the run!" You turn to look at Sona who remains quiet, her eyes look apologetic.

"Sona, you must agree, right? We should at least try mediating first."

The Templar solemnly shakes her head. "King Jarvan has allowed the empire to become a brutal force, it is by his decree that their expansionist ways continue. It is because of his actions I believe he is inconsolable and unreasonable."

"Why does (y/n) care about being diplomatic anyway? I thought you were all about destroying the empire." Malphite nods at Jinx's point.

"(y/n) don't want empire destroyed now?"

Why did you suddenly change anyway? What has made you want to be more peaceful all of a sudden? Did you care about the empire now?

HA! How foolish, you couldn't just redeem the empire by having a heart to heart with the King. Sona was right, if Kayn was doing all of this while being the faithful right hand man to the King then it was clear that Jarvan must be as evil as his Ordinal.

But what if you were able to change the empires ways? You always dreamed of being a revolutionary icon, right? Perhaps instead of the destructive vigilante tearing down the empire by its foundations, you could be something more noble.

Well, you could only dream about such fantasies.

For the following days, your mind constantly pondered on how this would all end. The rest of the Morningstar could not agree with which tactic to take when confronting Kayn, but the longer you all argued the closer you were to being caught vulnerable and unprepared.

After another week of quests and no sign of the locus armada on your trail, Yasuo felt it was safe enough to treat the team to something special.

Jinx had just landed the ship on Kómmatos, a major resort planet well known for its gambling, shopping, fine dining, entertainment, and nightlife.

Yasuo leads the team off the ship and into the city. The city streets are bustling with activity, the atmosphere is electric and brimming with a sense of anticipation as people gather around to indulge in various entertainment options.

"Where are we going?" you ask, taking notice of how familiar Yasuo, Jinx, and Malphite seem to be with the area.

"Oh you're going to love it" Jinx exclaims, beaming at you as she skips alongside Yasuo who also can't help but smile. They continue to lead you further into the city.

"...A Karaoke bar?" You look up at the building titled "K-Zone''. Malphite and Jinx nod their heads vigorously with wide smiles, like excited children.

"Isn't it great?"

"Uh yeah I guess if that's what you enjoy. I don't really sing-"

"Oh come onnnnn" Jinx insists grabbing your arm as she drags you inside.

So this was Yasuo's idea of recreational activities. You wouldn't put it past him if he proposed singing anime songs. But maybe doing something that's both fun and harmless would put your mind at ease. Even if you still thought the fate of the universe should be the main priority.

You had never been to such a place before, the idea of entertainment was foreign to you back in Zaun. Karaoke? Arcade games? The most fun you had back home was finishing your shift as a janitor early.

Yasuo had rented the crew a private room, so at least you wouldn't have to sing in front of strangers. Not that you planned on singing at all.

Jinx was eager to go first, dashing to the machine so she could have first pick of music. Literally, no one was racing her.

She grabs the mic and hands the other one to Malphite as a pop punk tune begins to play. You take a seat on the couch with Yasuo as Jinx goes first.

"Come and Join me~

Wanna play~

But I might shoot you, in the face- HEY!" Jinx's singing is halted as the song immediately cuts off. The culprit gives Jinx a silent glare, Sona is clearly not pleased with the tone of the lyrics.

Jinx glares back and immaturely sticks out her tongue while crossing her arms. "Well, I don't see you making an effort to sing." Sona rolls her eyes and takes a look at the Karaoke machine curiously scrolling through a few titles. Her face grimaced at some of the vulgar song titles before selecting a song, taking the mic from Jinx, and bringing it to Yasuo.

With a soft smile, Yasuo takes the mic and looks at the screen as "Burning Bright" begins to play. What could've been a cute moment was instantly ruined by the sound that escaped Yasuo's mouth.

Never had you experienced your body shrink into itself as a visceral reaction to the flat tone of Yasuo's singing. Bro had no harmony in his voice, just a painful dissonance that made your insides coil. At least you felt a little better about your own singing voice now. Sona didn't take long to put an end to Yasuo's turn either.

"Alright rookie you're up!" Jinx says as Sona hands you the mic. Ok whatever little confidence Yasuo had given you instantly evaporated. "Uhh actually I think it's Sona's turn". Sona crosses her arms and shoots you a sassy look. Ok so that was a stupid excuse.

Sona selects a song for you and you wait in anticipation for the monitor to load the lyrics. That's when some generic early 2000's pop beat comes on and your stomach drops as the first verse of the song loads up. "THIS IS A STUPID SONG!"

"DO IT" Jinx urges you, Malphite chants along with her and Yasuo smirks in amusement as the intro counts down for you. Panicked you lock in place and shakily sing out the first verse, your face feeling hot from the embarrassment.

"Sweet little bumblebee

I know what you want from me

Doo-bi-doo-bi, doo-da-da

Sweet little bumblebee

More than just a fanta-AAAAH!" You shriek midsentence as Jinx suddenly begins to torture you but poking and tickling your sides. You helplessly let out squeals as Jinx relentlessly attacks you to the other's amusement forcing you to sing the entire song.

With your pride squashed you shamefully walk back to the couch, relieved your turn is finally over.

Sona continues to explore the Karaoke machine with curiosity, her golden eyes sparkle with wonder when she discovers a button titled 'DJ mode'. After pressing it a new interface pops up on the screen that allows the user to create beats using music samples, drum kits, and a synth keyboard.

You all watched intrigued as Sona began to test it out, layering beats of samples until the Templar was able to create a loop that actually sounded good.

"Yooooo DJ SONA in da house!" Jinx cheers and the rest of you join in chanting "DJ SONA". Turns out Karaoke was fun.

After having your second turn you needed to use the bathroom, you excused yourself from the party and left your room to explore the rest of the place on a quest to find a bathroom. The first part was easy as you eventually found the restroom, it was finding your way back that ended up being a problem.

Maybe you should've asked Jinx to come with you because you were aimlessly wandering through the halls trying to find which karaoke room was yours. You already had made the mistake of walking into the wrong room twice, one being extra awkward as you were sure what the patrons were doing inside was more suitable for a hotel room...

You had messaged the others letting them know you were fine just lost, they responded by letting you know that they left their door open so you could avoid any more awkward encounters. You were a big girl you could figure this out, just simply keep walking around until you got your bearings.

As you passed by the many karaoke rooms you were able to hear the muffled music blasting from each of them. You were doing your best to avoid peeking through the door windows when one room in particular made you pause.

Your steps came to a complete stop, and your eyebrows raised as you heard the faint hint of a familiar voice coming from this room at the far end of the hallway. After several short seconds, you began making your way towards the door. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you slowly pressed your ear up against the doorway.

It was hard to hear over the pop music that blasted behind the door but you had to make sure. So you leaned harder against the wall forcing your ear to flatten against it in hopes of hearing better. Instead, the door gives way and you fall into the room collapsing to the floor.

You were lucky enough that the loud music covered the sound of your clumsy entrance, however, you were unfortunately right about who you suspected was in that room. Towering above, with his back faced towards you stood the very Ordinal you had been avoiding all this time.

Which was more shocking? The odds that Kayn was here or the fact that the Ordinal was a good singer? The absurdity vanishes immediately when Kayn snaps his head towards you. An awkward silence hung in the air, you stared up at him from your pitiful position on the floor and he stared back one hand holding Rhaast and the other holding a microphone.

The tips of his ears and cheeks burned in a pink blush from either drinking or the embarrassment of being caught. You exchanged several awkward moments of eye contact, his single green eye staring into yours. You still remained on the floor, your mind racing for what to do. Should you deescalate the situation with a distracting, witty line? Or do you just take him out while he's caught off guard?

Take him out.

From your flattened position on the floor, you spin yourself and knock Kayn down with a sweeping kick. That was twice you've caught him off guard now. While Kayn is stunned you scramble up off the floor. Without missing a beat he stands back on his feet revealing an amused grin on his face. His green eye gleams with a dangerous rage.

"The crew of the Moningstar! Here and ready to die!"

Kayn immediately swings Rhaast at you, the blade missing as you dodge, lodging itself into the adjacent wall. With a hefty wrench Kayn pulls the scythe free before slashing at you again and again. You jump back almost slipping on the second dodge. Kayn had gotten a lot faster since you had last seen him.

Immediately Kayn goes back in to attack, striking at you downwards. The blades reach managing to get a good cut down your collar, effectively damaging you and making you slower. Great now you had to be extra cautious, you intensely stared at Kayn ready to anticipate his next move.

Kayn doesn't waste another moment before dashing toward you, slashing at you while spinning before returning to attacking with basic strikes. You barely managed to avoid being hit, each time your dodges slipping with your reaction time.

"Let's get you some new scars." Kayn snides.

"Oh, please, spare me the cliché threats. If you want to impress me, come up with something original. But I guess creativity isn't your strong suit, just like your fashion sense."

"She's right. An empire that spans galaxies. And you still can't afford a decent haircut."

"Oh shut it Rhaast not you too." Kayn barks.

You take this brief moment to contact the others using the holo communicator watch Yasuo had gifted you. Your fingers fumbled with haste as you typed out the most typo-ridden emergency message.

(Y/N):"Kagn is her escaoe now Ill gey otu ASAP"

You weren't even sure you pressed send when another attack from Kayn knocked you back, the force slamming your body against the wall behind you. A message from Yasuo blinks on your watch's face.

Yasuo: "???"

Even glancing at your holo watch proved to be a bad move as Rhaast's blade lodges into the wall, his blade just missing your neck.

"Drag me across her throat! I want to hear her scream!"

Kayn pulls the scythe back continuously attempting to stab you, each thrust scarcely missing as you elude him by maneuvering just fast enough to escape Rhaast.

Incoming Call Yasuo ...

You accepted the call, not daring to take your eyes off the Ordinal. "(Y/N)? Is everything ok? You've taken a while to come back and your message-"

"Yasuo get everyone and get out immediately."

"What's going on?"

Kayn continues to attack you relentlessly, bringing the scythe down over and over again chasing you around the Karaoke room as the pop music continues to blast from the subwoofers.

"Kayn is here, we need to get out now"

You dodge another reaping slash.

"Where are you!? I'm coming right now-"

"No Yasuo! we've already gone over this, now is especially not the time! Just get everyone to the ship."

Kayn snatches your wrist, bringing the holo watch to his face.

"Captain Yasuo what's the rush? We can make a game of it. You try to survive..."

"And we'll slice you in half."

You had managed to break free from Kayn's grip and made a run for it, the goal was to make it to the Morningstar and take off before Kayn could summon his fleet to take you all down.

"Don't run! I hate that!" Kayn's growls.

Clutching your injured torso, you limped down the hallways of the Karaoke center as fast as your legs could drag you. But Kayn was much faster, he was barely stunned after you somehow kicked him off of you and you could already hear him tearing his way toward you.

You had to slow him down, there was no way you were outrunning the Ordinal this time. Your eyes catch the stairway door and you run toward it, ripping the door open and throwing yourself inside before slamming the door behind you.

The sound of Kayn gaining on you makes you jump into action, sliding the lock and running down the stairway. Kayn would still be able to kick down the lock but at least it would give you some time to get away from him.

"Boo".

You involuntarily let out a scream as Kayn whispered next to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. You turn to look at him, adrenaline pumping through your veins and the blood dripping from your cut.

To your horror Kayn was right behind you, somehow getting past your barricade without even touching the door. But you didn't have time to wonder how that is even possible you needed to get away, now.

You try punching Kayn at the center of his chest, but he effortlessly catches your fist with his free hand. You don't hesitate to swing with your other arm but he merely deflects it with Rhaast.

Before you can retaliate again one of Kayn's chunky boots slams into your chest as he kicks you down the stairs. You tumble back until you reach the bottom of the flight landing in a painful position. Yasuo's worried voice calls to you from the holo watch, you can barely make out his words over the throbbing in your head and ringing in your ears.

"(Y/N)?....(Y/N)? Where are you? We're at the Morningstar and we can already see multiple Locus Armada ships coming into orbit."

You can barely let out a groan from your lips while you're slumped against the wall. Kayn stalks closer toward you, each descending click of his boots echoing in the stairwell.

Kayn towers above you the sterile lighting behind him casts a shadow that engulfs you beneath him. The light glints off of Rhaast's blade creating a beautiful shimmer of blues and purples. A beautiful yet deadly weapon that Kayn is drawing back, ready to slice you in half with.

You began to squirm, trying to get to your feet, kick back, or do anything. But Kayn silences your pitiful attempts to fight back by crushing your torso against the wall with his boot. The Ordinal grimaces as your blood trickles onto his shoe.

"Looks like I win". Sneers Kayn, a victorious look gleaming in his green eye.

You sputter, blood drooling from your lips as you lay beneath Kayn helpless. But your glare remains defiant. You can barely breathe and your vision begins to blur. You can hear the distressed voices of your friends coming from your holo watch. They call out your name arguing about coming for you, but their hands are tied up with the Locus Armada closing in on the Morningstar.

"Yasuo...get everyone out of here."

"We can't just leave you behind-"

"Just do it!"

Yasuo sighs with reluctance, nodding to his watch, and walks over to the cockpit. Jinx screams at him to not do this, even attempting to wrestle Yasuo away from the control wheel. Yauso nods for Malphite to hold his friend back while he pilots the Morningstar to take off. Just in time to get away from the empire's fleet with hyperdrive.

You look at Kayn, forcing yourself to smile. "You failed at getting Sona...again". He growls and hoists his scythe up ready to slice you down the middle but halts. You can hear Rhaast whisper something to the Ordinal but you're too out of it to make out what the scythe was saying.

The fierce scowl on his face melts into a smug smirk, Kayn lets out a dark chuckle before leaning down and grabbing you by the fabric of your shirt. "Change of plans, you're coming with me."

You are hoisted back onto your feet and forced to lean onto the Ordinal who walks you through the Karaoke center. You try your hardest not to black out, to keep your awareness around Kayn but it's hard when you're bleeding so much. But eventually, everything goes dark as you're left at the mercy of Kayn.

Part Eight Here

#kayn shieda #shieda kayn #kayn league of legends #kayn x reader #league of legends x reader #kayn league of legends x reader #odyssey kayn

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queenshelby · 2 years

Text

Dark Desires (Part One)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Solomon!Reader

Warning: Smut, Arranged Marriage, Religious Themes, Loss of Virginity

Notes: I hope no one gets offended by this! If so, I apologize in advance.

You stood in front of the alter at the synagogue and looked at the stranger in front of you with some confusion. He was the man who you were forced to marry and he was older than you had expected.

He also wasn’t Jewish which, to you seemed, strange considering your family’s believes and all you knew about him was that he was in business with your uncle, Alfie Salmons.

Your uncle had no children himself and, therefore, it was you who had to bear the burden of marrying this stranger. You were the closest unmarried relative he had and, in your small community, it was all about family and connections.

You knew that your marriage to this man was for this very purpose only and your uncle had told you many times how, sometimes, one would have to make a personal sacrifice in order to succeed in business.

This sacrifice was going to be your hand in marriage and, when you stood there and listened to the rabbi, you learned that your future husband’s name was Thomas Shelby.

Thomas Shelby’s reputation preceded him and your chin dropped. You had never seen or met him before but, when you heard his name, you knew who he was.

He was a member of parliament who used to be associated with the fascist, Sir Oswald Mosley, until they had a rather public falling out. And, he was also a known to be career criminal who owned several businesses in Small Heath.

“Why are you marrying a Jew after associating yourself with men like Mosley?” you asked carefully and quietly but the rabbi noticed and told you to be quiet.

“I have my reasons Love, now give me your hands” Thomas told you and shivers began to run down your spine.

You despised what he stood for and you knew that your uncle hated the fascists just as much as you did. So why was he doing this? What was he going to achieve by marrying you?

These intrusive thoughts went through your mind throughout the entire ceremony and you couldn’t even listen to what the rabbi had to say until it was done.

You were married now, to a man who you didn’t know, but thought you should fear.

***

“Mazal tov, now let’s celebrate our new reunion, eh” your uncle said cheerfully after you and your husband exchanged rings and broke the glass and, as usual, he didn’t adhere to any of the rules when he stepped up towards the alter.

“Mr Salmons, I will have to ask you to leave…” the rabbi began to say, shaking his head in disbelieve at your uncle’s attitude.

“Oh common, don’t be like this rabbi. You just married a non-Jew to a Jew so, me being up here with you, is the least of your problems. Despite, Tommy here isn’t even circumcised, eh” Alfie said and, by this point, you had become rather embarrassed about his behaviour.

You took your religion and this ceremony seriously and so did your parents. Yet, your uncle took a very light hearted approach to the sacrifice you had just made for the family and you didn’t appreciate that.

“Alfie, show some fucking respect, eh” Tommy said before apologising to you and the rabbi and you stepped down from the alter with your cheeks burning red. This wedding was a disaster and you wondered what else there was in store for you expect from the obvious.

***

Fortunately for you, there wasn’t much of a reception after the ceremony and, yet, you were reminded by both, your mother and your maid, that you had duties to fulfill that night.

“I am aware mother” you told her again, after already having had this conversation with her several times over.

You knew that you had to complete the ceremony in the traditional way and, as your uncle had told you, he was hoping that you would bear some heirs for the Shelby and Salomon empire in the future.

Being a mother had always been your desire and now that you were married, your wish may finally come to true. But, did you want children with a man like Thomas Shelby? You weren’t entirely sure.

The other question was whether he wanted you at all. He hadn’t talked much to you following the ceremony and, when you approached him about the conclusion of your matrimony, he simply laughed.

“You actually want me to…” he began to speak with amusement and you were quick to interrupt him. Clearly, he had no idea what was expected of him during your first night as a married couple.

“We must Thomas. It is required” you told him and all he did in response was to cock his eyebrows.

“Alright then Love. I will see you at midnight, eh” he said, still chuckling in disbelieve and you wished that he would have informed himself of your traditions and the requirements of your union before marrying you.

He didn’t care about you, or any of this and yet, somehow, you were, by tradition and custom, required to obey and serve him and to bear his children.

***

As Tommy had required, just before midnight, you laid down on the large cushioned bed inside your bedroom which you didn’t share with your husband.

You already removed your wedding gown as you had been told to do by your maid, now wearing nothing but white satin panties and a white satin nightgown which was the same nightgown your mother had bought for you for this very special and particular occasion.

It was pretty, modest and practical for completion of the ceremony which, traditionally, was done by the obvious act of intimacy.

Until such act was being conducted, you had to stay pure and this was something you adhered to. Your God’s values aligned with yours and this was the very reason you remained a virgin until now even though it felt somewhat improper and upsetting to give up your virginity to a man who you barely knew.

It was your duty and your obligation nonetheless to give this purity to your husband and whilst you didn’t exactly choose to be with him, you were about to have sex with him. You had agreed to this out of your own believes and contrition and you were determined to go through with it.

To get you into the mood, your maid had lit some candles and placed them all around the bedroom. And, it was also your maid who had explained the act to you in the past.

She told you that, your first time, was going to be painful and she also told you that you may never learn to enjoy sex in the future. According to her, it was simply your duty as a wife to satisfy the needs of your husband and bear his children.

She recalled her own wedding night as having been disastrous but it gave her what she now loved the most, her beautiful ten-year-old son.

A son was what your uncle told you needed to give to your husband. He already had one, but one was not enough. He needed many to look after his business affairs.

***

With that in mind, you prepared yourself and prayed for a successful conception. Being a mother was your ultimate goal and desire and, when your husband finally entered your bedroom at around midnight as promised, your heart began to race like crazy.

The nervousness you were encountering was nerve-racking and, the truth was that, you just really wanted to get this last part of your union over and done with.

“Are you sure that you want to proceed this way? Because we really don’t have to do this as far as I am concerned” your husband said with a little concern and it was almost like sleeping with you was transactional rather than something he desired to do.

“Yes. I am sure Thomas. It is required by our religion and I value our traditions. Let me fulfill my duties as your wife and bear you children” you told him and he immediately cocked his eyebrows at you again.

“Alright then” he said nonetheless. He was a man with needs after all and, with that, he took off his suit jacket, shoes and tie before approaching the bed slowly.

It didn’t take long for you to feel his weight on the bed and you were surprised by the fact that he didn’t even bother to get undressed.

“Have you ever had sex before Love?” he then asked bluntly while nudging your legs apart and positioning himself in between them in a kneeling position.

“No I haven’t” you admitted as you felt part of his weight on top of you after he had lowered himself onto you slowly and you inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of his aftershave.

“Alright, then I will be gentle, eh” Tommy said somewhat reassuringly as hand began to trace down your body, right beneath your panties and, eventually, he slid his fingers over your naked mound.

“Do you want me to take off my clothes?” you stammered nervously after shrieking at the sudden contact. This was the first time anyone but yourself had explored this region with his hands and, to your surprise, the feeling was rather pleasant.

“No Love. There is no need” he told you while he began toying with your soft little pussy.

“I didn’t expect you to be so wet already. This should be easy” your husband then said with a husky voice as his finger traced the exact outline of your vulva. He explored each fold, then toyed with your slit for a moment, and then slid his finger up towards your clit.

“I am?” you asked, moaning and stammering all at the same time. It was all you could say as it was almost too much for you to tolerate. You had never been with a man before and, whilst you were extremely nervous and even somewhat embarrassed about it, you were also extremely aroused by the idea of having sex for the first time.

It was obvious to you that your husband’s fingers were busy with a purpose. Within a split second, he had pushed the crotch of your underwear aside, while two of his fingers applied gentle pressure to your labia. He nudged the folds apart, and revealed what must have been a small opening.

“You are and I think that you are ready to take my cock now. But, don’t worry, I will go slow, eh?” Tommy then said as he pulled himself back up for a minute and unzipped his pants.

“Okay” you stammered again as he pushed down his pants and briefs but, before you could get a good look at his member, he leaned back down and positioned himself in between your legs.

“Spread your legs a bit wider for me Love” he ordered you before he bucked his hips forward.

“Okay” you responded once more while clenching onto the sheets with your fists in anticipation.

“That it Love” Tommy cooed as, suddenly, the crown of his manhood rushed inwards and penetrated you without any warning whatsoever. Even the tip of his cock was enough to make your entire body tense up, and you groaned bitterly in response to the sudden intrusion.

There was an immediate burning soreness, as you felt your nether regions struggle to accommodate the intruder.

Tommy’s fingers eased their touch, and you felt your labia softly collapsing around his bulbous cockhead.

“Common Love. Let me push inside. You can take it” Tommy groaned while you struggled to breathe and then he uttered a simple moan, guttural and pleased.

“You are too big. You need to go slow” you told him as he continued to push his crotch towards yours. His erection slid deeper, and closer to your virginity. "

“You will get used to it. Trust me” your husband responded while you whimpered in confusion and with arousal. It felt too overwhelming but you knew that it had to be done. It was part of the ceremony and you needed to fulfill your duty as a wife.

“The more we do it, the easier it will get” Tommy then said as his member moved slowly but deliberately and you were distinctly aware of the exact shape and size of his cockhead.

“Okay” you said through gritted teeth while the walls of your vagina had formed a seal around that first inch of Tommy’s manhood and you could vividly imagine every ridge and vein adorning his shaft.

“Just keep your legs open for me, alright Love? Don’t fight it” Tommy then said and, after you nodded again, his cockhead applied pressure to what felt like a barrier. A thin membrane. Your treasured hymen. It was the one sign that you never had sexual intercourse and your panic grew worse. You knew that, what was about to come, would be rather painful.

“It hurts” you eventually pointed out as Tommy kept on moving inside of you slowly and the incredibly vulnerable, thin membrane inside you slowly began to tear.

“I know Love, but it will get better. I promise. Just try to relax and let me inside of you” Tommy said reassuringly and the only panicked reaction you could think of was to shut your legs slightly.

But it didn’t matter and, a short moment later, it happened. Tommy pushed forward and your hymen stretched a little more, and then collapsed.

“That’s it Love” he groaned in approval as your naked pussy clamped down on his erection, and you cried out bitterly.

“Oh god” you screamed as there was a sharp, stinging pain when Tommy tore your hymen and, luckily for you, the pain rapidly faded into a dull soreness.

Unlike the pain, the soreness was a sensation that you could tolerate and so you began to relax.

“You feel so good Love. So very tight and wet” Tommy cooed and, after feeling you relax around him, Tommy pulled back just a little, and then plunged deeper in than before. Multiple inches of his erection were being shoved into you, and you could feel your insides stretched taut to surround him.

“Thomas…” you moaned. It was such a surreal experience. You could feel your husband’s cock inside of you, and its heat was mixing with yours. More so than that, you awkwardly began to notice that your body continued to react on its own. Heat was building inside your loins, and you could feel yourself getting wetter because of the constant stimulation.

“You are going to take my cock so well, aren’t you, eh? Every fucking inch of it” Tommy groaned again in approval as he had unlimited access to your freshly deflowered womanhood.

You clutched onto his shoulder and, with rhythmical thrusts, in and out, he coaxed your pussy into opening up inch by inch. He was unknowingly easing your body into accepting his entire length. It kept going one inch at a time, until you could finally feel his crotch warm against yours. You could feel Tommy’s erection so deep inside of you, just beneath your navel. You were completely connected.

He seemed to cherish the moment and the wet heat, while your vagina desperately clenched down on his erection. Not a trace of his cock was left outside and you could feel the head of his member push straight against your cervix.

“Oh god, fuck” you murmured again as, each time Tommy pushed in particularly vigorously, you could hear a wet squelch coaxed out of your vagina. You had really gotten wet, dripping wet.

Tommy’s pace however had never changed, it was one continuous motion of sliding out, and back in. You did begin to feel yourself getting sore from the frequent friction, especially given the lack of foreplay. But you gave in to the moment nonetheless, just like a good wife would do. You wanted to satisfy your husband.

“Spread your legs wider Love and open up for me” Tommy told you as he kept on going and the bulbous crown of his erection scraped against your tender insides each time he withdrew. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to walk the following day if he was going to keep with this for much longer and you knew that you were raw inside.

“Let’s finish this ceremony, eh?” he then said as on the lower half of your body, you could feel Tommy’s hands reaching for a tighter grip of your thighs. He began to pull you closer, making sure that the entirety of his erection was safely embedded inside your youthful vagina.

"You are too deep” you moaned, feeling the pain against your cervix once again but Tommy simply uttered a weak grunt, and stopped moving.

You were at his mercy and the lips of your pussy were tautly embracing the very base of his erection as he began to move again, admistering deep and firm thrusts.

It was painful and you closed your eyes, concentrating on the weird sensations building inside of you. You could hear Tommy groan loudly and feel his erection beginning to throb intensely against the tight embrace of your womanhood. It was like a wild thrashing of his manhood, pulsing angrily against the snug confines of your vagina. For as long as it lasted, his fingers were pressing almost painfully into your flesh to keep you close. The sudden response was unexpected and startling. Due to your lack of experience, you had no idea what just occurred and a long moment passed before you calmed down again.

There was a long moment during which nothing was said, and nothing more happened. It was just you and him, your bodies joined together.

Eventually, the girth of Tommy’s manhood began to shrink while he continued to calm down his breathing.

“Are you alright Love?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yes” you confirmed as you felt a strange liquid heat spreading through your loins, faster than any other sensation you had felt before.

Your eyes opened wide as you could feel this foreign warmth rapidly spreading inside of your vagina, filling the empty spaces that were left by your husband’s softening appendage. He had done it. He completed the ceremony in the way it was meant to be done in the traditional way.

“Good, now you better get some rest, eh?” he said as you fumbled to reach down with your hands, and awkwardly grabbed and tugged on year satin nightgown while Tommy pulled his softening cock out of you.

He lost no time and pulled up his pants while you observed the sore area in between your legs.

A pool of his cum mixed with some of your blood had left with his shaft, leaving a sticky mess behind and Tommy moved his head so that he could get a better view of your red raw pussy as well.

“I have some work to do. I will see you at breakfast, eh?” he then said all so casually while reaching for his handkerchief and wiping away the cum and blood from in between your legs, cleaning you up gently.

“Yes. Okay Thomas” you said while straightening up your nightgown to regain some of your modesty and, for some reason, you felt strange about what happened between you and your husband.

You knew that he was your husband and this is what should be happening between husband and wife and, yet, it felt unnatural to you.

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toxicanonymity · 10 months

Text

Empire Builders. Ben's Hardware Ch. 3

5.4k / Ben Solo x Rey / ch 1, ch 2

WARNINGS: I8+ mdni. Sexual tension, gaslighting, another woman tries/fails to seduce him, angst, dubcon via uninformed force connection, ben jacks off, unsafe P in V (in force connection). Hardware Store AU explained. Strategic planning humor. Excessive plot. Beta/Star wars consultant: @dark-scape A/N: Written in February 2023. This chapter has far more world building & background than necessary. Like I set up way too much stuff for a miniseries, but I wanted to answer some reader questions. And at least the world is constructed in my head for future use.

Ben opens his eyes and looks around his office. There's a leather couch, a chaise, an end table, a credenza stocked with high-end liquor. It's certainly too high-end for the general manager of a local hardware store, but Ben likes things a certain way, and so do the clientele. He zips up his pants. With Rey, he feels like he's doing nothing wrong. He has his own rules for himself about the force connection, although they continue to evolve.

The first time it happened, it took him by surprise. He felt a familiar tingle in his nose, the same faint tingle he gets when he uses the force. And there she was in her bed. He watched her for a few minutes, growing more and more aroused. Then he gave it a shot - he invited her. And there she was in his house. After that, all she had to do was want him and he could tune in at will.

He may tune into Rey's cute little thoughts about him sometimes, and especially her sexy little thoughts, but he only interacts when he's clearly invited. When she desperately wants him.

In a way, Rey is in control – or, that's what Ben tells himself. If Rey wants something from him sexually, he makes sure she either asks for it or takes it herself. He merely makes suggestions. He opens her eyes to the possibilities. Rey may not understand it, but Ben barely understands it himself. Certainly not well enough to explain it to her. It would be like trying to explain to someone why water is wet or how to breathe. It's not Ben's fault Rey doesn't know she's force sensitive. Most people don't know about the force at all, and they're better off that way.

Ben never had a chance at a normal life. His parents dedicated their lives and his to using their powers for good. He didn't understand why teachers asked what kids wanted to be when they grew up. Did anyone have a choice? Ben even went to the FBI academy at Quantico and started in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. It just . . . Didn't work out. Or, it didn't work out *the way his parents wanted*, to say the least.

His parents' names followed him everywhere. Everyone had this very specific idea of who he was and what he was about before they even met him. Everyone had expectations. His entire career was laid out for him. He'd probably be the director one day. Without the freedom to be his own person, he grew bitter and angsty. It was only once he interacted with the most dangerous criminals that Ben realized the choices he could make.

Ben feels like he's protecting Rey by not cluing her in. The only thing he feels a little guilty for is using a Jedi mind trick on her. It's a little gross in principle, but he was protecting her by making her forget what she saw between him and Hux. Ben works for dangerous people, and Rey is far too curious for her own good. If Rey were to find out the store is funneling supplies to a dangerous criminal organization, it would not only ruin the whole set-up, but her life would be at risk.

-----

Ben goes back downstairs to the store and passes Hux on the stairs, who's on his way up to the office. Hux asks, "Want me to run those numbers for tomorrow?"

Ben has no idea what Hux is talking about. He sighs, "What's tomorrow?"

Hux looks worried that Ben forgot. "Uh, the retreat, right? Corporate?" He uses finger quotes when he says corporate.

"Fuck me," Ben mutters under his breath. "Yeah. Thanks."

How could he have forgotten? He knows how - Rey is a total distraction. Empire Building's strategic planning retreat - what a joke, but Ben doesn't have a choice. Who plans a retreat a week before Christmas? An organization that considers itself your only family.

Ben wants to get out of it. "Hey, Hux - shouldn't one of us stay here to watch the store?"

"Yup, that's why I'm attending remotely. I'll be here in the office and go down to the store during the breakout sessions."

"Actually, I wouldn't mind staying. You deserve the break," Ben offers.

"Ben, no offense, but you know nothing about running a hardware store. That's why I'm here in the first place."

"It's only two days," Ben says. He's annoyed, but can't really dispute the assertion that he doesn't know what he's doing. He's a hobby carpenter, which used to give him a false sense of handiness, but he's eaten his fair share of humble pie since opening the store. If he had to run any other department besides Wood, he'd be in trouble.

Hux sighs. "Alright, I wasn't supposed to say anything, but you're being honored. You can't skip out."

Honored? That intrigues Ben. He tries not to seem too excited, though. "Whatever," he says. "Yeah, run the numbers, but run them by me before you share anything."

A buzz saw whirrs in the distance as Ben steps back onto the floor of the hardware store. He wants to learn to manage the store himself, he just doesn't want to learn from Hux. He walks by the key-making station and the staff member greets him. He thinks about shadowing the keymaker to learn something new, but he goes to Lumber instead. They're filling an order of custom-length 2"x4"s.

"Want a break? I've got it," Ben says. The woman stops the saw and offers Ben her protective glasses. He takes off his jacket, puts on his apron, and rolls up his sleeves. He pulls on a pair of canvas gloves. He can feel the woman checking out his ass as he bends over to get the first piece of lumbar lined up just right. "15 minute break," he tells her. "You don't have to clock out." She walks off then Ben fires up the saw and cuts the wood.

He's finishing up by the time she comes back. He gives her the goggles back.

Ben puts his jacket back on, collar popped, and goes out to the nursery and picks up the water dispenser. He waters the tropical plant section and inhales the fresh smell of lush foliage mingling in the air with the sawdust from carpentry. He thinks about how much he enjoys the hardware store. He would love to just manage the hardware store one day and have that be his whole job. If only things were that simple.

----

The next morning, Ben drives his bulletproof Range Rover with dark tinted windows to the retreat, which is two hours away. He dresses in all black and lays a charcoal blazer in the passenger seat. He pulls up to the hotel at the last possible minute. He opens the glove box and puts his old beat up Glock in the back of his pants. He doesn't carry it all the time. It's truly gnarly, but it works, and it's a family heirloom. It was returned to him from the District Attorney's office after his grandfather died. He puts on his blazer and makes sure the notched Mandarin collar is standing - he doesn’t like his neck exposed. Then, he tosses his keys to the valet

There are two huge guards at the door dressed darkly in plain clothes. Ben knows one of them and gives him knuckles.

There are only a couple dozen people attending but they've branded it like it's some huge event. Ben would prefer to sit with his back to the wall in any given room, but there's a seat reserved for him in the second row. The retreat kicks off with a speech from the Emperor, which is a big deal. No one knows his real name and Ben has never heard of him appearing in public before. He hangs on every word at first, but it's a pretty general speech about the importance of loyalty and how prosperous they are together. Yawn. Then he talks about adversity.

He continues, "As we all know, we had some challenges last year. Now, I don't have anything against journalists - heck, my granddaughter is one - but they tend to stick their noses in places they shouldn't." The crowd murmurs. Ben starts listening closer again

"And it's not like the old days where we can take care of one problem and it just goes away. They've gotten smart. They've gotten digital. Setting up dead man switches and whatnot. Anyway, after the Post article last year, and the boycotts, each of our biggest suppliers suddenly grew a conscience at the same time. Construction came to a total standstill. For two months we built nothing." He lets that linger in silence for a moment, then continues, "Until one of you had an idea." His eyes twinkle as he looks at Ben. A few people quietly cheer. Someone behind Ben pats him on the back and Ben turns his head a little and smiles on acknowledgement but keeps his focus straight ahead.

In truth, Ben saw the Post article coming. The way they were handling their business it felt inevitable. But it would have been a big risk for Ben to try to change how they were doing things. Instead, he started anticipating the fallout and plotting to save the day.

"Ben's Hardware, ladies and gentlemen." He gestures to Ben. "We're back in business." He makes Ben come up to the front and presents him with a ruby signet pinky ring. When he sits back down, Ben sees Hux sends an applause on the Zoom screen behind the speaker podium. Ben's tries not to roll his eyes.

"That was real strategic thinking, and it got us out of a real jam. I want all of you to start thinking strategically. That's why I've brought in a consultant this weekend." He gestures to his right and an attractive young woman stands up. "This is Paige. She's going to get all of you thinking like Ben." She smiles at Ben and he swallows.

Ben wonders how much Paige knows and what's in store for her. This is sloppy. He manages a small smile.

----

The first session is a SWOT analysis of Empire Builders. Paige talks through their Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, and Threats. It turns into somewhat of a post mortem of what led to the Post article and boycotts.

Strengths: Reputation, resources.

Weaknesses: Disloyalty, competing priorities

Opportunities: Services. Diversify disposal.

Threats: Attention. Regulation.

This is a load of crap, and Ben is 100% sure Hux is just eating it up, scribbling notes and making stupid plans. He rolls his eyes at the thought. This is worse than a load of crap, he realizes. Nothing good could possibly come from openly strategizing about how to expand this criminal enterprise.

Ben could have walked right into a different crime family and taken his grandfather's seat, but that would have been the easy road, and he wouldn't have been met with true respect. He knew he was capable of sitting at any table he wanted, and chose a different family. A rival family. He's climbing from the ground up by merit. He whacks off a bad egg here and there, but he builds his reputation with brains more than brawn. He's bringing the family into the 21st century.

As part of his plan to make himself indispensable, Ben shared one of his many good ideas - the hardware store. He shared just enough to climb one more rung on the ladder, and now they want all these goons bumbling around trying to bring something fresh to the table? He would hate for this family to implode before he has a chance to destroy it himself and build his own dynasty.

In the SWOT session, they discuss some of the points together, but it's awkward because no one knows how much Paige knows about the organization or when she's supposed to get whacked. They keep trying to be vague, but they're really conspicuous about it. Ben tries to peer into Paige's inner world to find out how much she knows, but he realizes he can't see anything at all, much less read her thoughts. He wants to test a hypothesis that the sexual attraction and tension with Rey is what's creating their connection.

-----

They take a break and Ben takes off his blazer. He leaves it on his seat and goes to the bathroom. He looks in the mirror as he washes his huge hands, then he unbuttons two buttons and rolls up his sleeves. He feels kind of slutty doing this, but in a hot way, if he's honest. He runs his long fingers through his dark hair and swallows. When he sees his Adam's apple in the reflection he remembers his most powerful weapon. He should've made an acceptance speech.

Before they get back from break, Ben approaches Paige with a twinkle in his eye. He talks about nothing. He uses the lingo. He gesticulates with his massive hands and shifts his weight flirtatiously as they talk. He flashes his charming smile and compliments her on the dumb SWOT analysis. He tries to keep talking. He crosses his arms and watches her eyes drift to his forearms. When it's time to re-start the session, he heads back to his seat and glances back. She's definitely checking out his ass.

"What do we mean by 'diversify disposal'," someone asks, and Paige doesn't know how to answer it. So she doesn't know everything after all.

One of the big wigs chimes in. "You'll recall the Post article was primarily the result of a specific disposal that was discovered at a construction site. Which led them to look at other construction sites, pulling permits, and employment records, and so on and so forth. All that fuss started with one sloppy disposal."

The man still looks confused. The big wig makes a subtle gun gesture out of view of Paige.

"OH, disposal," the audience member realizes. "Okay and diversify that how?"

"Well primarily by considering properties that don't trace directly back to Empire Builders. And techniques that lessen the residue over time."

"Like lye?" The man asks. Paige swallows and doesn't know what to say.

Ben interrupts and saves her. "Have we thought about *reducing* disposal?" He asks the big wig.

The big wig laughs. "It's a core part of our business model."

"Reducing unnecessary disposal? That's when things get sloppy, right?"

"Go on."

"Like say you hire a person for one job, like a conference, but they have a diverse business skill set. That person could potentially be reassigned to, say, logistics and supply chain management?"

"Instead of. . ." The big wig is thinking. "Right. Good question Ben. Let's take that offline."

-----

After the session ends for the day, Ben goes to the hotel bar. He wants to check in on the store but needs a drink before he can even think about talking to Hux. Mainly he's curious if Rey came by. He knows she wants to. Ben orders a whiskey on the rocks and thinks about Rey. He feels like she has all the control. He only gets to see her when she shows up to the store. He thinks about the way she blushes under her freckles and her dimples and her perky tits and how bad she wants him. He's horny.

As Ben examines his drink in his large hand, a sultry voice startles him.

"Ben's hardware, huh?" It's Paige. She slides her small hand onto his shoulder and puts her other hand on the back of the stool next to him. "Anyone sitting here?" He must have really worked his magic earlier.

"No, please." He welcomes her to sit. His sleeves are still rolled up.

She orders him another drink. "Another one for him. And one for me."

Paige reaches for Ben's large hand and inspects the ruby signet ring on his pinky. She wants to try it on. It's too big for even her thumb. One of the big wigs watches casually from the end of the bar.

Paige asks too many questions, and Ben doesn't give her any answers. He doesn't want to put her in more danger than she's already in. Also, part of him wonders if she's a trap. Maybe they've realized what he's known all along - that he's the future of this empire - they need to know he can be trusted and won't get distracted by competing loyalties. Even if it's not a trap, Paige isn't Rey, so that works against her.

At the bar, Paige is all over him. It turns him on. He's not that interested in her, but he's only human. She finishes her drink and slips Ben a key to her room. She scribbles her room number on a napkin with lipstick. He wants to leave the key and the napkin on the bar, but he wouldn't want a worse guy to bust into her room in the middle of the night, so he takes them with him.

Ben looks at his phone and has a missed call from Hux. He decides not to call him back, lest Hux think Ben answers to him. Plus, Ben is exhausted from being "on" all day. He's a solo creature and having to pretend to enjoy "the family" really takes it out of him. Especially with all eyes on him as an honoree. He felt like he couldn't let his guard down for even a moment.

-----

Ben retires to his hotel room alone he washes his face and hands and grabs the hotel lotion. He props up two pillows and lies down on top of the bed without unmaking it. He crosses his large feet and studies the pattern of his argyle socks. He really prefers stripes these days. He should overhaul his sock drawer. He reads the label on the lotion, then moisturizes his enormous hands. He holds the napkin in his hand and runs his thumb over the room number, which is just a few rooms away.

He recalls the way Paige looked at him and gets hard. He starts to think about whether he should just do it. It's not like he and Rey are dating - they haven't even gone out once. On the other hand, hooking up with Paige wouldn't do anything but physically get him off, and he still wouldn't be satisfied. He runs his long fingers over the mark on his neck. There is only one person who can satisfy him now. His eyelids are heavy.

Ben palms himself through his pants and debates whether he should try to force connect with Rey. If he does try to connect with her and she isn't already thinking about him, it could startle her or make her question everything. He decides to take care of himself instead.

-----***------

Ben takes takes off his slacks and hangs them on the back of a chair and lies back down. He leaves his shirt on and pulls his boxer briefs down. He closes his eyes. He wraps his hand around his hard shaft and despite how big his cock is, it almost looks normal sized in his massive hand. He's proportional.

He's almost too tired to do it, but his arousal wins over. He spits in his hand. He thinks about Rey sitting in his lap and begins to slowly move the skin on his shaft, lazily and in short, firm strokes, just getting warmed up. He thinks about her furrowed brow and her soft little sighs and how her warmth felt against his cock.

Before he can get far, his nose begins to tingle. Ben yanks up his boxer briefs and palms himself through them as he closes his eyes to let it happen.

But before he can see anything, Ben hears a moan echo from the bathroom of his hotel room. He lies there frozen, wondering if his ears deceive him. Then, he hears splashing and squeaking from the bathtub. He jolts up and grabs his Glock from the nightstand. He holds it in both hands, his arms straight, and slowly approaches the bathroom. He turns the door knob with one hand and pushes it open before resuming his stance. Steam billows out of the door and the mirror is fogged up.

The door creeps open the rest of the way on its own, and Rey is in a robe. Thank God she's facing away from him. He lowers his gun and quietly rushes back to the bed, taking huge strides. He puts the Glock in the nightstand but doesn't close it all the way.

The sink faucet turns on, then off. Rey emerges from the bathroom and looks around curiously. She doesn't look surprised to see him. He hasn't done it on purpose, but the collateral gaslighting might be driving her mad. Surely she hasn't figured out how this works.

Ben is lying on the bed in his boxer briefs and button up shirt. He's still hard. Her eyes meet his. "Ben," she says. It's the first time she's said his name to him and it's the sweetest sound. Her eyes scan his body, resting on his underwear longer than anywhere else. She looks away shyly then he sees her remind herself it's not real. She gains confidence and smiles demurely at him. "Where have you been?" she asks. "Where are we now?" She crosses the room slowly.

Ben ignores the questions. "Well, you found me," he says. Her eyes rest between his legs again. He's emboldened by her continued belief that this isn't real. He adds, "And you found me in quite a state." He strokes his hard length from outside his boxer briefs. "Is this what you were looking for?" He looks down to his lap then meets her eyes again as he strokes himself slowly. He knows it's what she wants. He still wants her to say it.

Her hair is damp. Her skin is rosy. He's disappointed to have missed her bath, but glad she's here now. Rey approaches the nightstand, then stands facing the bed, not far from him. Ben wonders how much she can see in this room. Can she see the napkin? The Glock in the nightstand? If she can, she ignores them. She lets her robe fall open "Maybe so," she says. That's close enough to a yes for him.

Ben sits up in the bed and pivots to face her. He sits on the edge of the bed and takes both her hands in his. He spreads his knees. She stands in between his legs, close to the bed. They search each other's eyes. He can feel all her thoughts even stronger now. She wants him bad. He scoots closer to the edge of the bed, barely on it. His large feet are firmly planted on the floor.

She wants his body against hers. He brings his hands around her waist to the small of her back. Her figure is striking and her skin is so soft and smooth. He gently nudges her closer. His knees are spread wide with plenty of room in between. She comes as close as she can and his clothed hardness meets her bare skin.

She starts unbuttoning his shirt. She looks even prettier with no makeup. He strokes her damp hair, then cradles her pretty little head in both of his massive hands and brings her face to his. Their eyes close. Her lips part. Their mouths meet softly, then the kiss grows hungrier. She wants Ben inside her. He slips his tongue into her mouth and she meets it eagerly. She finishes unbuttoning him as they make out.

Ben moves his hands down each side of her neck, then to her collar bone. He slips the tips of his fingers under each side of the robe and slides his hands gently to her shoulders. She shrugs off the robe. His hands slide from her shoulders down to her breasts and cup them gently. He takes one nipple into his mouth and moves his other hand around her back, down her spine as he tongues then sucks her breast.

Her skin is supple and her ass is round. He grabs a cheek in his large hand and pulls her into him, then his hand slides down her ass crack between her legs. His middle finger reaches her pussy and she’s so fucking wet. He releases her breast from his mouth and grabs her ass with both hands. He stands up and lifts her off the ground in one swift motion. Her legs wrap around him. He turns around and lays her down on the bed and their faces meet again. His nose brushes hers as their lips come together. As he reads her mind, he’s struck by the intensity of her passion for his nose. He’s so fucking hard.

Her fingers curl under his undershirt. He takes it off and she marvels at his physique - his sharp shoulders, his broad chest. Her hands trace his hard pecs, then his abs, and his happy trail. Then she slides her hand inside his boxer briefs and seizes his huge, swollen cock. Her hand feels so good. He thrusts into her and her other hand grabs at the hem of his briefs. He takes them off. She wants him inside her so bad, but he wants her to say it.

He reaches a large hand between them to finger her while she strokes him. As his long digits slide against her slick folds, he says, “You can have whatever you want.” He knows there’s only one thing on her mind and it’s his cock.

“I want all of you,” she says. She releases his cock and it smacks against her hip bone, then he removes his hand from between them and grinds his hips into her. His hard cock slides along her folds and her head falls back. Her neck is so delicate. It’s hard to resist putting his hands around it but he doesn’t want to scare her.

“Take it,” Ben snaps hastily. “Take what you want.” She opens her eyes wide and grabs his cock again. She swipes a bead of pre-cum around the head, strokes him for a second, then rubs his cock against her folds again. She wraps her legs loosely around his back.

Ben kisses her deeply on the lips and grinds into her hard. He can feel her wanting something beyond his body, beyond this room. “I want it to be real,” Rey says.

“This isn’t real?” He asks with a twinge of guilt. It’s an inopportune moment for this conversation, in his opinion. He just wants to be inside her.

“I want you in real life,” Rey says.

He slides off her and rolls onto his back, breathing heavily. He cradles his massive, aching erection in one hand, loosely stroking it. “I do too,” he says.

“How do I know?” she asks. She rolls over on her side to face him and hooks a leg over his closest leg. Her face is quizzical, but he can still see the want in her eyes. She traces his pecs and her nipple grazes his bicep.

“You just know.” He laughs. “I know you know.” Rey climbs up and straddles his big thighs, hovering her lower abdomen near his cock as she searches his face. He'd say almost anything to fuck her right now, but he settles on something reasonable. “Give me your number or something,” he says. "then I'll make sure you know it. I promise."

She relaxes. "Okay." She seems to view this experience as some way of accessing her intuition or some kind of mystical guidance on how to get with him in real life. She feels like she has her next step now. She'll give him her number.

“Can we still have fun meanwhile?” He asks and his hips lift up under her.

She smiles. The only thing on her mind is his cock now. She grabs it again and scoots forward more, her warmth hovering over his aching balls. He sits up and kisses her passionately as she grinds into him.

He nuzzles his nose against hers. “Whatever you want,” he says. Her hips roll into him more intensely until she rolls off of him and back onto the bed, lying face up, pulling him onto her. He brings his whole body down into hers and she grabs his cock and nestles the tip at her entrance. Ben kisses her deeply as he plunges into her. She moans as the thick head parts her seam.

He gives her a few seconds, then thrusts again, further into her. She digs her fingers into his back. Her cunt is so hot and tight. He feels like he could come at any second already. “More,” she says.

He pulls out an inch or two then plunges all the way in and she moans. They sloppily kiss as he thrusts into her again and again. They sweat and their hot bodies slide against each other. He knows he’s hitting that special spot deep inside her. He knows she’s close. And so is he, his pleasure is building rapidly.

As Ben pounds into her, Rey begins to whine and her face contorts. “Yes, yes, Ben." He feels a pang of pleasure in his balls at the sound of his name in her mouth. She says it again and he kisses her desperately before his name is gone from her lips, like he's catching it in his own mouth. She comes and her walls clench around him, and he starts to come, too. He slowly thrusts into her as his cock erupts. When his balls are empty, he pries his lips away from hers to look at her. His hair falls into her face and she tucks it behind his ear.

There’s a knock at the door. For a moment Ben hopes Rey can't hear it, but her face screws up. Ben ignores it and kisses Rey's neck sweetly, trying to make her forget about it.

Another knock. "Ben, I know you're in there," Paige says from the door. Rey's eyes water.

Ben wants to explain. ,"No, it's not - hold on. One second," Ben whispers to Rey. He gets up and starts toward the door. When he glances back, Rey is looking at the napkin and key on the nightstand. Before Ben can answer the door, Paige says "Whatever, you've got my key."

Ben turns around to come back to bed, but Rey is gone. He stews over it for a while, but there's nothing he can do.

The second day of the conference, Paige starts off cold toward Ben, but she tries to cozy up to him more during the breaks. He tries to play nice but he's upset about the night before. There's no way she could have known, but it still bothers him. He replays Rey's thoughts in his head and he's fairly sure her infatuation and attachment will win out over apprehension.

Paige's presentation talks about waste and efficiency. One of the types of waste is underutilized resources. Ben doesn't want to say it in front of Paige, but he feels like his capabilities are underutilized. There are so many times they forgo mind tricks in favor of straight-up offing someone. It would be cleaner to just to make them forget.

Of course, a mind trick doesn't always work. He can't imagine it would work for someone like Mitaka who worked full time for them. What memories would the person be left with? Plus, there are different rules for snitches. But as far as Ben knows, a mind trick would've worked for the disposal that ultimately led to the Post article. Ben keeps his mouth shut, though. He doesn't want to draw more attention to himself by bringing up his capabilities. Plus, he knows better than anyone that sometimes your temper just gets the best of you.

After the session, during the social hour, Ben gets invited on a hunting trip. He says he should really get back to the store. A big wig slaps him on the back and asks if he can tour the store the day after tomorrow. Ben agrees.

Ben really can't wait to get back to the store.

Thank you for reading!

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zeroducks-2 · 9 months

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Can you tell me something about Talon Dick? Anything really, just want to know more about him and I love to read your posts where you talk about DC characters and whatnot

That's such a heartwarming compliment anon, thank you ♥ I don't have all that many info about Talon Dick Grayson (and as far as I can see there isn't much about him on the internet in general), but I'll do my best to let you on what little I know about him.

So Talon is, as you might know, a name used by many characters in the DC universe. Dick is by no means the only one. The iterations that interest us in this case are the Talon of the Court of Owls, an undead assassin who can be pulled in and out of hibernation as it suits their masters, and mainly Talon as in Owlman's sidekick.

But who actually is Owlman? In the DC Omniverse there's multiple "Earths" (in the sense that there are multiple dimensions, and so multiple versions of Earth as we know it), and one of these is known as Earth 3. What's special about it is that most of what we know about the DC Characters is reversed - the Justice League is instead the Crime Syndicate, a group of superpowered individuals who got together and villainously rule over the world; Jim Gordon is a mafia boss instead of a cop; the Joker (here he´s called Jokester I believe) is still mental but he devoted his life to fight crime, and instead of Bruce Wayne, who survived that fateful night in Crime Alley was the eldest son of Thomas and Martha Wayne, aka Thomas Wayne Jr. Now as far as I understood, there are two versions of the Talon Dick Grayson who operated as Owlman's sidekick.

pre-crisis Owlman had a sidekick of unknown name, but they were killed by Jokester. So Thomas recruited Dick who was already a criminal, gave him the identity of Talon, and they worked together for a time as a criminal lord and his henchman. Only at some point Dick fell in love with Jokester's daughter and they both had to run away, ending up joining the Teen Titans. I'm not sure what happened to both of them after that.

post-crisis This one is my favorite version. Thomas, being the deeply fucked up individual that he is, went one night at the circus and saw how good this Grayson kid was at swinging the trapeze and flying like a little bird. He decided that he wanted him for himself, and so the next time the Flying Graysons performed Thomas rigged their equipment, causing them to fall to their deaths so that he could step in, and adopt a devastated and orphaned young Dick. Dick went on to be Thomas' loyal shadow and in the following years he helped Owlman build his empire of crime. Only at some point and for unknown reasons (I like to think it's because he thought Talon entirely belonged to him at that point) Thomas revealed to Dick to be the murderer of his parents. It backfired and caused Dick to run away, but he was captured and then killed by Jokester (who was seeking revenge for the death of his partner at the hands of Owlman), and gruesomely chopped up and sent piece by piece to Thomas.

Prime Earth Or post reboot if you will, keeps the post-crisis backstory for Talon Dick Grayson as far as I understood. If you read Forever Evil (which I recommend - everyone and their mom acts completely out of character but it's such a fun read), you'll know that Owlman has taken quite the special interest in a captive Dick Grayson. He's lost his Talon (after making the mistake of revealing to be his parents´ murderer), and now he's decided that Nightwing!Dick will make for a suitable substitute. Dick is obviously not thrilled about it, and the interesting(?) part is how Owlman's attempted manipulation and physical violence is mirrored by how Bruce himself is violent and extremely manipulative with Dick, soon after the whole issue with the Crime Syndicate is solved, when he needs to force/convince him to do what Bruce wants him to do.

When it comes to the Court of Owls, keep in mind that Scott Snyder (who's the one who came up with the whole thing) was mainly inspired by Earth 3, Owlman and Talon Dick Grayson. Indeed the Gray Son Of Gotham and Lincoln March, who might or might not actually have been Thomas Wayne Jr, were conceptually reminiscent to their Earth 3 namesakes. Dick was supposed to become a Talon - as mentioned before, an undead assassin used by the Court of Owls whenever they needed him - but he obviously never did. Details on that are another story for another post :)

This is more or less all I know. Everything else is my personal headcanon, like how Owlman on Earth 3 is actually the Grandmaster of the Court of Owls and uses his Talon as a weapon to do his bidding, and doesn't really perceive him as a sidekick or anything like that. They have a verily abusive relationship where Dick is not allowed to directly interact with anyone save for Thomas and Alfred (unless it's a victim Talon has been sent to threaten, torture or kill), and he's generally treated in between a prized possession and a powerful but ultimately disposable weapon. There's a lot of stockholm/lima syndrome and brainwashing involved, and lots of angst. Yep, I'm writing a fic about it. Yep, there's Sladick in there too. I guess I can't help myself lol.

#long post #thanks a lot for asking anon #my asks #my dc meta #if anyone reading this knows more about Talon Dick Grayson of Earth 3 please do add to this post and feel free to correct me about anything #talon dick grayson #thomas wayne jr #owlman #earth 3

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erinsintra · 7 months

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The different species of Weaboos

Yesterday, I was watching this video about all the different sub-types of weebs, and while I do agree on everything said there, I feel like James didn't go far enough down the rabbit hole. So I decided to list a few of the "kinds" of weaboos I have dealt with on the internet.

(James is an awesome guy btw. You should watch his videos)

Weaboos

Possibly the most famous one. These are people - usually American or from other Western or West-leaning countries - that are obsessed with Japanese culture for one reason or another; usually due to overexposition to anime and/or manga. I have to admit, I was a bit of a weeb myself in my emo days, but it didn't go further than that. Some weebs, though, manage to sink down into some bizarre pipeline that turns them into a bizarre version of a Japanese nationalist. They start claming that Japan is the greatest country in the world, and anime is the perfect form of art, and Japanese girls are the epitome of (wo)mankind. It doesn't take long before they also start denying Japanese war crimes and defending their occupation of Korea. How they went from liking anime to endorsing war criminals is beyond me.

Koreaboos

Whilst weaboos are usually teenage boys (with the occasional thirty-something neckbeard thrown in), koreaboos are almost always teenage girls. They are people obssessed with Korean culture (specifically South Kora), or at least their weird version of it. Like weebs, most of their experience (or lack thereof) comes from popular Korean media, like K-pop and Koream dramas. They also love to idolise South Korea, claiming it to be a perfect society full of hot twinks with coloured hair, and as the above example, some of them tend to become political extremists as well. It's kinda funny to me how weebs and koreaboos hate each other due to their obssessive worship of rival countries. I used to know this kpop fangirl who once told me she hated wacthing anime because of what the Japanese did to Korea. That's like, I don't know, refusing to eat a hamburger because of the American Civil War.

Chinaboos

They aren't very common, but they are slowly growing in size as China herself expands her influences. These are people obssessed with Chinese history, Chinese dramas, and Chinese pop songs. I kinda dislike this kind a little less than I dislike the others - mostly because I am a admirer of Chinese culture myself -, but they have this weird tendency to deny the existence of China's misdeeds - while I am yet to see a chinaboo outright deny the Tiananmen square massacre or the Uyghur Genocide, most chinaboos I've met claim that China is and has always been the world's biggest superpower, and "dethroning" America is her fate. Crazy stuff.

I couldn't find a good image to put here, so here's one of Zhang Yong's tweets.

Teaboos

These guys are funny as hell. They're people who are obssesed with the UK, specifically England and the English monarchy. The type of people to stay awake for the entire night watching the new king's coronation, or the queen's funeral. They also frequently endorse the British Empire. I've had people come to me and say to my fucking face that they wished that Britain had colonised our country. People who idolise celebrities are already weird, but foreign politicians? That's a whole other level of screwed up.

Ouiaboos

I will never understand this. People who idolise France, praising their sophisticated culture and their chesse and wine and unpronounceable words. Some also like to endorse Napoleon and claim he was the most influential human being in modern history and an absolute gigachad.

I have never seen ouiaboos defending French colonialism, but I wouldn't be surprised if they did.

Wehraboos

The worse there is. People who idolise the Third Reich and their "efficient way of running things". If they were that efficient, why did they lose the war? They are almost always racist fucks.

Kaiserboos

The older cousin of wehraboos. They idolise the Kaiserreich and love the German monarchy, sometimes Prussia and Bismarck as well. Though not always racist, they usually have quite the controversial opinions on WW1. Guaranteed to be an EU4 or HOI4 player.

Romaboos

I kinda hate those guys for staining the image of Rome. These are people who idolise the Roman Empire, claiming it was the peak of Western civilisation at a time where "men were men" and "things were proper". Have you ever seen an incel on Twitter or Discord whose pfp is a Roman marble statue? That's one of them. They are usually very sexist, racist and homophobic, completely ignoring the fact that Rome was an incredibly diverse empire where homosexuality and gay marriage was about as common as brushing your teeth.

Leeaboos

Named after Confederate general Robert E. Lee, these are people - always Americans, thankfully - who idolise the Confederate States and the American Civil War. Like Wehraboos, they are guaranteed to be racist and sometimes also pro-slavery, claiming that it was an unjust war where the glorious freedom of their rebellious country was suppressed. Nevermind that the Confederacy was a barely-functioning oligarchy that lasted less than a decade.

Imperiaboos

Pretty much the Brazilian version of a leeaboo. They are people who romanticise imperial times and wish for the return of the Brazilian monarchy. They will go on and on about how the Empire was secretly one of the greatest economies in the 19th century (it wasn't), how they had the manpower to conquer the entirety of Latin America if they wished (they didn't), and how they were so cool they even scared off mighty Brittania that one time (which is actually true, though not as glorious as they claim). They are also frequently very racist and pro-slavery. Every time we have a shitty president (which unfortunately happens more often than not), they pop out outta nowhere claiming that "The Emperor would never allow that!" and so on.

Soviaboos

It always striked me as funny how so many soviaboos are of American origin. These people like to endorse the Soviet Union - or, in rare cases, the Russian Empire - claiming that it was the greatest superpower the world had ever seen, and openly wishing for its return. They commonly refer to their friends as "comrades" and tend to idolise Communist symbols and aesthetics in general. Generally very unpleasant to be around, though at least they are anti-capitalist and anti-american imperialism, so that's already a step on the right direction I suppose.

Thank you for reading all of this! I suppose I should get back to writing my novel now.

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the-starry-seas · 16 hours

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what's up I have an OC to talk about

— (via bahrmp3)

This is Vinir. Vinir has paranoia where his ability to form emotional attachments with human beings should be. You'll notice I specified human beings. This is because he's deeply attached to his five droids!

All five of them are rescues. G13 was left outside to rust because their repairs were too expensive. R6-D8 was used for target practice after vaer strut broke. 29H7 was sold to Jawas to be melted for scrap after zir tread broke. D5KF and 4-T-O were kicked around by people who didn't respect them. They're 'just droids', after all.

Vinir relieved the former owners of their credits, their life, and their droid, in that order. You ever see a guy spinkick another guy's head off? Turns out it's not as scientifically impossible as you might think.

D5 is Vinir's first droid, when he's in his early twenties. 4-T-O is next about five years later. Then R6, G13, and finally 29H7. D5 is secretly his favourite, but he'd never actually admit to that. They've been through a lot together, through half his life, and at this point, D5 is the only one who truly knows him. Vinir would also never actually admit that D5 is his emotional support droid. (D5 is aware. It's fine.)

(Left to right: R6, 4-T-O, G13, D5, and 29H7)

Vinir was born on a factory planet named Yeneva-17, a miniature Coruscant where there was nothing left of the natural surface world, only skyscrapers. It was run on the sort of predatory workers' system where everything was controlled by the company and nobody could afford to leave.

As a kid, he resented his parents for bringing him into a life hat he had no chance to escape. He spent his childhood fixing some things and stealing others. At fourteen, he realised that his above-average skills might get him a half-decent life on a planet where people were actually paid for their work. He stowed away on one of the export ships, and left it at the first spaceport it stopped at.

There, his skills were enough to get him an apprenticeship with a man named Corjak. It wasn't long before Vinir picked up on the fact that Corjak's enterprises were hardly restricted to repairwork. He was part of a criminal empire, and Vinir wanted to get in on the money.

He started as a pickpocket and smuggler, expanding his skills and the languages he knew whenever he could. His jobs changed quickly and with little notice. He loved it. Smuggling cargo was no harder than smuggling bounties. Guarding people was easier than hunting them down, and he realised when he overheard something that would be of value to the highest bidder.

At twenty-two, he went on the mission that ended up with him and D5 meeting. A year later, he left the Cinuvian spaceport, in the stolen ship of a teammate who'd made one too many comments about how Vinir would be better off if he romantically loved a human rather than platonically loved a droid.

From there, the entire universe was open to him. He went wherever he found a job to interest him. Along the way, he somehow collected four more droids (he's still not entirely sure how that happened, but he loves them, fiercely). Their ship can feel more like a circus at times but Vinir doesn't regret a thing.

Eventually one of his jobs is to assassinate a Mandalorian warlord. He ends up saving the warlord's life instead, to prevent another hunter from being able to claim the bounty. Things get complicated from there. Before he knows it, he's been adopted into the clan, and can't get out of his new family, despite his best efforts. He truly thinks that telling them why he came in the first place would be enough, but then they forgive him for it, and he's ultimately just really confused about the whole thing. They're an extremely friendly people and he's never had someone so determined to be his friend before.

After about two years of "we're your family and there's nothing you can do about it", he finally gets used to them being around. This is after he's spent those two years murdering every threat that comes near them and letting them use his tech and letting them watch his droids while he's on a mission, and six months after he's able to fall asleep around them. The man needs time to come to terms with his emotions and still isn't acknowledging that he has them.

Still, after spending half his life as a wanderer, he doesn't really want to stay anywhere permanently, even if it is with them. So he tells them that it's time for him to go back to solo hunting. He also (to his own surprise) promises that he'll be back at some point.

The clan saw this coming from a mile away and have a farewell gift to him to help keep him safe. He paints it on his last night there so they can see everything he's never been able to find the words for. Red for honouring a leader, pink for respecting and being respected, blue for reliability, and dark green for guarding and protecting.

They're polite enough not to say anything about it (also he stabs and bites and honestly they're all a skosh worried about rabies).

He leaves on his own, like he always has. He promises to come back to a family, which he's never had. He keeps his promise, every time.

Vinir's aroallo, which means he has a great time with various people until they start getting attached to him, at which point he ditches and also takes their wallet if they made any kind of romantic confessions. He's had a lot of people insist that he can change for them. By total and complete coincidence, he's stabbed a lot of people.

After everything he's seen and done, he's pessimistic, and his family hasn't much changed that. He's not quite as unfriendly as he pretends to be, but he's never been one who gets attached to people easily, and he never really trusts their attachment to him, either. That regular, normal, platonic affection so often turns into some romantic bullshit and that's when things typically fall apart. He generally prefers to spend his time alone (or alone with his five droids, or alone with one or two people who are capable of sitting in silence with him).

He's calm, capable, confident, and knows exactly how to get what he wants, in a way that people tend to read as 'arrogant and pushy'. When he sees the solution, the perfect path from one point to another, he follows it to get what he wants. Why wouldn't he? Other people have never exactly been a consideration, and he's never let his droids be in harm's way. Success is what matters. Those that get hurt in the process… well, it's a shit galaxy. Everyone gets hurt.

Dying for a job or cause is ridiculous, since he's got things to do and credits to make, but his sense of self-preservation disappears when something dangerous is also appealing to him (there's some sci-fi version of skijoring that he regularly competes in). A job going badly doesn't faze him much. Unpredictable messes are a good way to hone his skills and ensure he's not getting soft or complacent. Sure, he's going to murder whatever bastard set him up, but that's more of a pride thing.

Speaking of which, he wouldn't be as much of an asshole if people would just have a brain cell once in a while. As a treat, perhaps. Or maybe standard-issue mission gear. When someone's stupidity affects the mission or otherwise becomes his problem, he is going to become their problem in return, and they're going to like it even less than he did. He's very good at being annoying. He's just not good at... well, anything else involving human interaction.

big fan of characters who are always leaving. who constantly have a suitcase in their hand. characters who start planning their exit the moment they arrive and get nervous when the people in their lives start to Know them. in a totally normal well adjusted and not at all projecting way of course

— (via mobydyke)

#vinir #if you made it to the tags then i have extra lore! i stole R6's pronouns like two months after creating vaer

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amechyofsorts · 19 days

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Decided to start a sort of a challenge run of Unicorn Overlord, cause I really like the game, but I both sort of found the game too easy on my first playthrough, and I was kinda disappointed that the game just vomits story units to you through the whole thing, so after the early game there's little reason to use hireable randos. Which is a real shame, cause making randos in rpgs rules.

So yeah, this run is on True Zenoira mode, so that's permadeath to all troopers in an unit that falls entirely in battle. And im playing with the following additional restrictions:

Only every using hireable mercs. Any story units must be left at the nearest garrison as soon as possible, or otherwise kept away from combat. Technically this run only starts after the first side mission, the one where you get Rolf, cause only then do you get up to D rank and can actually hire anyone at forts.

No grinding missions. I can do the phantom fight stages, but only once. Makes it so I can't ensure an endless amount of resources.

No going back in saves and if I game over then the run is over. Makes it so I actually gotta value every single soldier I have, and if I lose them it's a big hit to the army as a whole. And this makes corne ashes a massively important resource, since they can actually stop me from game overing if my fort gets captured or I run out of time on a mission.

Story wise, this is the anti royalism run. Prince Alain may be the figurehead, but the snot nosed punk wouldn't in a million years actually step on a battlefield to free Fevrith. This is about the common working men of the liberation army getting it done! Let's meet the crew.

Germain. A veteran town militiaman. Thought himself too old to fight back against the empire, but after seeing too much of their opression for too long, he had to take a stand. A lot of the common soldiers in the liberation army rally behind him, much to his irriation.

Florine. A young gal who's lived a good half of her whole life under Zenoiran opression, which has only stoked her want to free her home from it. Very peppy and cheerful, which keeps the moral up when she's around. Kinda thinks of Germain as an uncle of sorts, though no actual relation.

Guy. A tough and stern man who used to work as a bodyguard for a local lord. Looking for revenge for the said lord, after he was murdered by Zenoiran's for opposing their rule. Rumored to have been lovers with the lord in question.

Odo. A woodsman who has lived all his life in farthest ass end of a forest. He had no idea that someone had taken over the world, until just recently when he came over to town for some milk for the first time in ten years.

Nils. Definitely not a Zenoiran spy. No sir.

Armand. A professional soldier who had accepted the new zenoiran rule initially, but his family was torn apart by the new taxes and unjust laws and such, so he picked the side of the liberation.

Sébastien. An extremely cowardly and sulky young knight. He kept getting unwanted advances by a Zenoira aligned noblewoman, and when he kept refusing she had him branded as a criminal. To not have to be on the run for the rest of his life, he now reluctantly fights for the liberation.

First actual mission with our army here was the one against Bruno. Went fairly smoothly, although Germaine, Florine and Guys unit got caught offguard at one point, so I had to use a revival orb. Provoke is good at getting archers out of watchtowers, but do it too far and they'll just run right back as it turns out. The importance of archer support became pretty evident right away. No casualties.

Afterwards hired two more soldiers for a dedicated anti cavalry unit.

Artemisia. A warrior of justice. She won't say anything more about herself.

Maxim. Comes from a long line of spear guard guys, the types that stand around doorways and cross their spears when someone tries to enter without permission. Zenoira does not use the treasured method of sentry-dom, which is why he and his whole family is rising to action against the empire.

Ended it here for now. Very fun so far, glad to be thinking much more about resource management, though im sure it will start to grind my gears the bigger the army and fights get.

I'll keep up updates about this... if this gets any engagement, I guess.

#unicorn overlord #unicorn overlord true zenoira permadeath no grinding run #hell yeah

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ofthetales · 2 months

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⸻ omari hardwick, fifty one, cis man, he/him ; ] welcome to the bastion, ASHER STEELE. we’ve had a problem with our system, please help me readjust your files. it says here you are 51 and have been around london for THEIR ENTIRE LIVES, correct? yes, i’ve read an article about you - they said you can be DIGNIFIED and ABRASIVE, is that true? no matter, i’m sure your position as a HEAD OF THE LEFT SIDE will conceal all of that. all done now. i hope to be seeing more of your LEAVING BEHIND A TOKEN OF ILL WILL, WHISPERS OF OLD WOUNDS UPON YOUR SKIN & THE DRIVE FOR PERFECTION in the future. enjoy your stay, and remember the rules. / / james "ghost" st. patrick (power) , harvey specter (suits) & choi moo-jin (my name).

BASIC

FULL NAME : asher henry reinford steele NICKNAMES : mr. steele , ash ( to close friends + family ) AGE : fifty one BIRTHDAY : 9th of january, 1973 BIRTHPLACE : london, england ZODIAC SIGN : capricorn GENDER : cis man PRONOUNS : he/him ORIENTATION : heterosexual OCCUPATION : head of the left side + ceo of steele & co EDUCATION : masters in international business ( london business school ) THEME SONG : going bad by drake ft. meek mill

PHYSICAL

FACECLAIM : omari hardwick HEIGHT : 6'3 / 192 cm BUILD : here HAIR COLOR + STYLE : here EYE COLOR : brown WARDROBE : here

BIOGRAPHY

whether it is by choice, or because of natural time, asher doesn't recall most of from his childhood, other than his mothers unfortunate passing, and his father's sudden incarceration. he was taken in by his father's best friend, henry steele, a business mogul that had always treated asher like his own, and showered him in love, and luxury. though, there were two sides to the empire steele built, and he intended to mold asher into the man that would be needed to run both, using not only education but experience to prepare him. asher went on to pursue a business degree, and during this time, henry began to expose his nephew to the underbelly of london, offering him a spot on the left if asher so wished. at first, he wanted nothing to do with that side of their lives, but the potential of power, and undeniable success in the business world was enough to change his opinion. when he wasn't at university, asher could either be seen at his uncle's side, learning from the former head, or partaking in the clean up's that the table ordered. his rise in the criminal world has been a gradual, yet messy one as even asher had to start at the bottom, regardless of his relationship with henry, and scars aren't the only proof of his worth. asher has taken after is uncle in every day, both good, and bad, he stands tall as a level-headed businessman, but is also a ruthless head that demands loyalty from her. as expected, asher has taken after his uncle in every way, both good, and bad, a rational, and approachable businessman by day, but a ruthless, and unforgiving head of the notorious left side by night. his loyalty to the table is unwavering, and there is little he wouldn't do to ensure not only the safety of its members, but the illicit affairs that keep the all at the top. now that the criminal world has been turned upside down, asher is finding more of time occupied by table affairs, and not his business, nor the family he treasures.

TID BITS

asher has been the head of the left side for the last fifteen years, and has no intention of letting go of his seat. asher is a collector of watches, specifically rolex, and has an extensive collection that he wears on a daily basis. asher owns two dobermans, lady, and lord, who are essentially his four legged children, and are often seen with asher on his off days. asher often hosts high stake poker games at one of his private residences in london for those that can buy in, or are apart of the table. asher took over as the ceo of steele & co ten years ago, a london-based holding that is notorious for buying, and selling business, both legitimate, and not. more to add as time goes on !

#talesfmintro #parental death tw

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cryptidcalling · 6 months

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Just a lil post about how Vesper's actually got a pretty sweet heart (he's got two hearts in fact) for the right people and things.

Vesper is incredibly loyal to the people he loves. Panza of course, and his Lieutenants too, but it's more than them. He's loyal to the empire not just because Panza runs it. He's loyal to the entire idea of it. He sees it as something that nurtures and shelters its people despite being a dangerous military power to the outside, and he loves those people dearly. Each and every citizen of the empire is his responsibility. Perhaps not on an individual level, he knows he can't prevent every tragedy or make everyone happy, hell he doesn't even need them to like him, he knows that most of them are terrified of him. But on a grand scale, their safety and happiness is his job to ensure. He truly believes that hunting and killing criminals is the best way he (as an individual and a General) can do that. He's got a soft spot for abandoned, damaged things. It's kinda how he sees himself in a way. Yes, he chose to escape from the scientists himself, but the emotional neglect that came with them deciding he was a failed experiment was an abandonment in its own way. He takes pity on broken little machines, especially little robots. It's not uncommon for him to find broken robots or machines at scrap yards, trading stalls, pawn shops, or antique stores and fix them up in the rare amounts of free time he has. Most of the time he'll give them away to people or departments in the Citadel who will use them more. Non-robotic tech he'll sometimes keep for himself, like old stereos and communication devices. Asteria, Vesper's Void Hound, is kind of one of his projects. When he came across her during a mission in his commander years the gem that forms her physical body had been shattered. He collected all of the pieces he could and was absolutely determined to fix her, even when everyone around him said it was entirely impossible. Of course, he did manage to fix her. Not perfectly, she's still got some damage, but she's strong and brave and so so loyal. One final short thing; Vesper rarely intends to hurt people's feelings. He doesn't feel too bad about it if he does, because he thinks it's not his fault that they read further into him being straightforward, but he doesn't try to. And sometimes if he realizes he went to far or he made someone he cares about upset he'll try and make it up to them. Usually not with words, but by doing them favors or complimenting them on something to try and balance it out.

#Vesper tag #Not proofread I'll do it in the morning #If this tag is still here it means the proofreading hasn't happened yet

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whentranslatorscry · 8 months

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Miss Kyouko's Cipher Table (1/5)

Marui to shikakui ga nakatagai Gyakusankakukeidewa nare nareshii Chokusennaraba natsukkoi

The round and square are at odds Inverted triangles are overly familiar While straight lines are attached

The criterion of right and wrong is no different from a code—this is often what Yuinouzaka Nakoudo pondered, how earnestly he wished that someone would sort out the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’ in a neat little list.

If he went around bragging about such things, he might well get told off with "Can't you even tell good from bad on your own?!" And even if told off for that, it would only be after he had been shouted at that he would realize, "Oh, so that's something I shouldn't say." Objectively, just because you had been scolded, it does not necessarily follow that the scolder was right. They may be loud-mouthed and more precisely defined in where they want to stand, nothing more—everybody knows that what is right is not determined by how loud you are, nor is goodness determined by how strongly it is championed. This is anything but a criterion.

So what is the criterion?

Much as Yuinouzaka craves for one, there still is no such decoder ring in this world capable of translating ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ into common sense and nonsense—The accusation of "common sense should be enough to judge these things" is essentially based on certain empirical rules, and he is not yet stubborn enough to deny it out of hand. But when you think about it further, the line between common sense and nonsense is pretty arbitrary.

It is not uncommon for what is a friendly greeting in one culture to represent provocation in another; in cases like that, even devoid of malice, the action will be judhed ‘wrong’. Bypassing for the moment the debate whether the fault lies in the improper conduct or in ignorance—he just couldn't suppress his yearning to to take inventory of the judgement itself.

True, if it were a matter of greeting ettiquete, body language, or word choice, then we can chalk it up to cultural, geographical, or customary differences. But if everything could be so easily explained, then it would all be trivial knowledge of life or jests that could be laughed off.

But there are cases where a joke just won't do.

Still unwritten cultural rules may allow wriggle room for ambiguous smiles in Japan and shrugged shoulders in the West, but what if it were codified in law?

The statute books.

In a sense, it may be a catalogue of good and evil, a sort of Rosetta stone for deciphering right and wrong, just what Yunouzaka had sought—but in fact, if you actually read the whole of the Six Codes of Law, you find that interpretation of the law is infinite.

Law itself is, for the most part, highly encrypted text—entirely different, diametrically opposed meanings can be derived from the same article, with experts in courtrooms then debating 'which is correct.'

It is certain that if we leave no room for interpretation, we run the risk of making our rules rigid and dead, but on the other hand, the very diversity of interpretation means that if we insist on a strict interpretation of the law, there will be a contradiction in saying that not a single person is not a criminal― there is no one alive who has not committed a crime—perhaps this should already be common sense.

It is said that you should read the intention of the law, when it was enacted, rather than the words of the law itself, but the so-called "intention" still seemed to him to be of obscure and elusive countenance. To pinpoint the crux concretely, it would be easier to understand through an analogy. In football, for example, people often say that the reason offsides is a foul is because it is "despicable, unsportsmanlike". But if offside is unsportsmanlike, then an offside trap is even more so.

There is deliberate misuse of the law—more extremely, abuse—here and there. Beyond the illogical, some articles are downright absurd, and, if only looking at the intention, appear to be either mistakes or private whims of past regimes masquerading as ‘moral standards’.

Then legislation is far removed from justice and equity.

That is to say, it is a statute, in other words, a code, and not necessarily a moral or ethical code, as the case may be—but it is also true that when you try to do good, rules and customs get in the way.

That being the case, statute books would be more akin to poetry than narrative—let interpretation fall to the reader. Still, if all the statute books were collected into one codex, there should not be an infinite number of meaning and contradictions—in reality, however, a statute book is not one volume.

Multiple texts cover the same ground. Even domestically, this happens, and venturing overseas reveals a vast number of alien cultures.

In Japan, for instance, it is illegal to sell rulers in inches, an imperial unit. The urge arises to ask—what could possibly be wrong with that? Yet through reading of the law as it stands, by not conforming to the metric standard, inch-unit rulers violate the principles underlying the law and are essentially 'wrong'—despite being commonplace in countries using imperial over metric.

Well this is just about rulers, so I suppose you could call it peaceful—but the reason I can't let this rest is because the same could be said about firearms.

If you owned a gun in Japan, you'd be accused of lacking common sense or propriety; you'd be regarded as a potential killer first and foremost because you possess an instrument of murder. But in overseas countries where ownership is not prohibited, it is a perfectly normal means of self-defense. Not blame whatsoever—not a matter of legal interpretation.

Bringing up something dangerous like guns is extreme and arguably underhanded. But to illustrate, medical technology makes a clearer example—some surgeries are possible and some drugs usable in some countries that are not in others. Noble acts to save lives overseas would be prosecuted as assault domestically—a ridiculous contrast of non-fiction without embellishment.

This is, of course, a contradiction and a mistake, to be sure, but, of course, when you look at it this way, the distinction between "good" and "evil" becomes much more blurred—in some cases, even reversed altogether.

In the past, what was good has become bad, and what was acceptable has become unacceptable—with the advent of new technologies, new laws are prepared to govern them. People used to insist on obeying laws that are unreasonable and illogical by today's standards—laws that we wouldn't dream of enforcing, even as a basis for good and evil.

All the same, Yuinouzaka would like to hold out hope for the existence of something akin to ‘human nature’ running through the entire course of human history, if at all possible. Yet this too was pretty suspect—There were times when inhumane slavery was considered natural, and heroes were those who killed many. Asking someone’s 'favorite warring states general’ was to Yuionouzaka little different than asking their favorite mass murderer. If you read the past with modern sensibilities, you will find that every hero, every great man, has feet of clay.

History textbooks get rewritten one after the other.

So what was the history he learned even about? Just a test of memorization?

However, there are those immutable textbook entries that refuse to budge—mainly in math and science. One famous example is that electricity flows from plus to minus—in fact, it flows from minus to plus, but the original definition still holds good and is taught as ‘fact’ simply because of its long history—too ingrained to change? Or is it, frankly, an unwillingness to admit error on the vertical axis of time?

Mathematics, it’s said, is unchanging across cultures, even planets. Extremes exist to prove otherwise. Identical answers can have entirely different processes—the nines tables in Japan and India are worlds apart. The ‘invention’ of zero was a seismic shift, and maths before and after almost separate disciplines.

Progress means change, and change may involve the rejection of the past—the rules of right and wrong are constantly in flux. What starts out as an ant soon becomes a grasshopper, often in a much shorter timeframe than we’d expect.

Incidentally, if he had to pick a textbook subject where interpretation was most ambiguous, it would be literature. Given that the source material is inherently subjective text, there’s ample room for interpretation.

It’s a tired old trope, but on exam questions asking to decipher the author’s feelings in a certain passage, even the author themselves may not have a definitive answer. And that’s not to say their interpretation is the absolute truth anyway—once published, the meaning is largely left up to the reader.

"Feelings" aren't so clear-cut, are they? If you mean the literal meaning of the words, then the answer is no, it's not right or wrong, it's just vague. Like the meaning of “wind from an empty cave.”

Like the explanation of “you have another think coming.”

Like “the drinker’s mind is not on the cup," and so on.

However much one might deplore the corruption of language and insist on dictionaries as absolute authority, one bump against the incongruity that even within the same language category, archaic and modern writings have entirely different meanings for the same words. For example, the words 'akarasama' or 'tokimeku' are acceptable, while informal grammar is nitpicked as ungrammatical.

When Yuinouzaka grew to adulthood and read in a book that there was indeed no correct stroke order in Japanese characters, he was genuinely shocked to the core.

‘Do this.’ ‘Don’t do that.’ ‘That’s wrong.’ Adults dictate children on the basis of groundless assumptions and mere outcomes of personal imaginations, then the educators and the educated are all fools. There is nothing more pathetic than this—true of education and sport alike.

Those of Yuinouzaka’s generation have been relentlessly drilled in rabbit jumps and other callisthenics—he does not quite understand why—and there seems to be a heated debate about whether or not such exercise is appropriate. In truth, dissent has always existed, it has only now bubbled to the surface. As with slavery in ancient times, there were objectors even then.

There are always many ways of thinking and interpreting. It’s maddening even that their public expression can be restrained by law. On the other hand, laws that are meant to promote good and prevent evil can themselves become the very evil they are meant to prevent. How can that be? If one man kills, he’s a criminal, but if a million kill, they’re heroes. Save one life and you’re a hero, but save a million and you’re a traitor—and such? Too much of a good thing is as bad as a bad thing—it hurts many and loses much.

As history has proven time and again.

Not that Yuinouzaka’s lofty musings would be met with more than dismissal: “That’s so obvious that there's no point in even bringing it up.” —vertical and horizontal, that's just the way it is, and anyway, if the times change but the rules don't, it's the other way around that's really strange. He is old enough to know this without it being spelled out for him. But adulthood brings an appreciation of that additional axis.

Suppose X is the horizontal axis and Y the vertical axis, then we have the supposed Z axis—even when doing the same thing at the same time and place, the judgment may vary.

Call it personality, call it character.

Even for the same thing, some may be forgiven while others are not—much like how the same text can be interpreted in different ways, things that should have been unacceptable become the norm.

This whole business about the Z-axis, as it were, troubled Yuinouzaka more than anything else—murder being weighted by criminal motives and circumstances—how can this be? Voicing that doubt while unable to call for uniform justice troubles his reason further. Lesser sentences for minors committing the same crime, nations sparing the elderly prison. No acts or crimes are precisely the same, so judgement allows for circumstance. Even “good” differs in deed by the doer’s past. It’s unfortunate, but it’s the way things are.

There is no difference between good and pretended good, some would argue, and yet at the end of the day, in this world it is hypocrisy that is condemned. In such considerations, one might wonder if there truly is any substantial difference between ‘good' and ‘bad'—any deed can be ‘good’ for ome, or ‘bad’ for another. Can anybody live without inconveniencing others? By the same token, regardless of who we are, just by living, we might be saving somebody.

Or.

It could be argued it is only with death that some individuals contribute to humanity. If believing justice always prevails would be naive, then surely so too is claiming that the victor represents justice.

Right and wrong—they really are one and the same.

By twisting logic to such convoluted, obstinate extremes, Yuinouzaka Nakoudo could finally rationalize that there was no ethical conflict in murdering his longtime friend and business partner Fuchibuchi Yoshitoshi.

Killing his good friend—was the ‘right' thing to do. He at last, with great difficulty, succeeded in this belief.

All had been going well.

There was no reason that Yuinouzaka’s company, "Enmusubito" shouldn't continue to thrive. He was feeling quite pleased with himself for showing the world such an innovative new business model ahead of the times. In fact, he had been receiving a fair amount of media coverage—but no matter how many successful entrepreneur interviews he gave, Yuinouzaka didn’t let it go to his head, and even if he was a little cocky at times, it was within acceptable limits.

Enmusubito's business—in plain terms, it was a matchmaking agency. Clients would come to them with requests like “I’d like you to introduce me to someone like this…” and their job was to get clients connected with someone as close to their specifications as possible. Whether the client was asking for an elite or a specific individual, for a vague idea or anything at all, they would pull out all the stops to make it happen. Connect the dots, as it were—part of the inspiration behind the company name Enmusubito (“tying bonds”).

Technology is advancing by the day, so personal connections are more important now than ever before. That's why he set up a networking company. It paid off, although in the early days they struggled to convey the vision and were written off as just another recruitment agency or dating service. Yuinouzaka himself found it challenging to articulate his ambitions in words. It had always been merely intuition.

What if the leaders of Company A and Company B—totally unrelated—became friends, would that spark something new? Or what if he brought together this pure literature author and that gag manga artist—like a sewing machine and umbrella on an operating table—and they inspired each other? What kind of works might that produce? Or even more extremely, if this celebrity and that politician who would never normally cross paths somehow got together, couldn’t they leverage that connection for mutual gain?

It started as fanciful daydreams like that. What chemical reactions might occur if he brought together two parties who would never normally meet? Explaining that vague curiosity in a logical, systematic way was incredibly difficult for the highly intuitive Yuinouzaka. So having a good friend who understood what he wanted to achieve without needing it spelled out was invaluable. He believed friends were what you should hold dear.

That good friend was Fuchibuchi Yoshitoshi.

Yuinouzaka and Fuchibuchi founded the company together, just the two of them. Nowadays it’s grown into a decent sized organization, but it started from humble beginnings. The name ‘Enmusubito‘ was formed by combining parts of their own names, almost like a symbol of their partnership. Nominally Yuinouzaka was the president, but it was Fuchibuchi who took his vague ideas and turned them into concrete reality.

More than business partners, Fuchibuchi was something of a benefactor to Yuinouzaka. A friend and benefactor. That’s why it pained Yuinouzaka so deeply to be asked to kill him.

Was it not reprehensible on the part of a human being?

Was there no other solution?

Couldn't he still turn back?

His conscience told him to act with common decency and wisdom, but Yuinouzaka was a man of instinct, and ultimately he would follow his gut.

He had twisted the simple truth that murder is wrong into a coded rationale that killing Fuchibuchi was right. In truth, he reckoned, the real villain was Fuchibuchi, not him.

Fuchibuchi was no saint, objectively speaking—no man is without flaws. And by any measure, his past actions constituted a grave crime that flew in the face of Enmusubito’s philosophy. If word got out it would decimate the company’s reputation, and no doubt Yuinouzaka as president would go down with it.

In order to protect the company, Yuinouzaka had to eliminate his friend and benefactor, Fuchibuchi. When the time came, the conflict that should have been there was gone, leaving him with a sense of mission that was odd.

He may have succeeded in changing his mindset, but if you judge him normally, he was only covering up one crime by committing a worse one, so he had lost his mind completely—otherwise, he would have lacked the capacity to bludgeon a man’s head.

No.

He failed all the same—For all his rationalizations and resolutions, doubt remained.

He hesitated to kill his friend.

He faltered at severing a bond that had been essential to founding a company predicated on human connection—now deemed unnecessary and even detrimental. Human values don’t shift so easily, yet for the victim Fuchibuchi, this hardly offered any salvation.

If anything, hesitation made things all the more cruel and wretched for the one about to die. The uncertain blow to the head fell just a little short of killing him outright.

Watching his friend writhing on the floor, bleeding from the head but still alive, Yuinouzaka instantly knew he’d botched it. Part of him thought he should finish him off, another part thought he could still call an ambulance and pretend this never happened, but the latter feeling was immediately denied.

At the moment when he bludgeoned him, he was no longer friends with the man who had been his friend, Fuchibuchi Yoshitoshi—no saint that he was, he would never forgive Yuinouzaka for that. The blow may have cracked his skull, but it shattered their bond too. In effect, his choices were reduced to two: guilty of attempted murder or murder itself, and he concluded that there was no going back once he had eaten his words.

It was a foregone conclusion that he would come to that conclusion—and if it was, he should have finished the job sooner rather than later.

A selfish thing to say after pushing him to the brink of death, but in Yuinouzaka’s mind it's his most frank feeling.

It was the 'good thing' to beat to death the friend he never wished to strike, he was sure. But in the end, he didn't carry out his good deed.

The old friend lay dying, and he watched him die, from beginning to end, from end to end—not out of some noble desire to witness the end (that would be grotesque selfishness, not grace, if so), or even common humanity, but simple hesitation to draw the nail in the coffin.

It was that the dying Fuchibuchi began scrawling letters on the floor, with the blood flowing from his own head wound.

Dying message, as it were.

(Ergh…)

Yuinouzaka looked at his state—speechless.

Being no great reader of detective fiction, still Yuinouzaka knew what a dying message was, and, as the culprit, logically he should forbid such a thing at all costs.

It was originally a frame-up to make it look like a break-in robbery, a random robber happening upon the unsuspecting houseowner, who just happened to be there, and killing him in the process—no sloppy plotting there. Erasing his own presence from the scene was Yuinouzaka’s only concern.

Therefore, even more he could not let Fuchibuchi leave any message. Even if he did not directly write "the murderer is Yuinouzaka", as soon as he left words that could subtly hint at this, it would soon expose everything. When Yuinouzaka realized the dying old friend seemed to be writing something, really he should have ended it there and then.

But.

(Guh… Ergh…)

He couldn't kill him. Couldn't bring myself to kill him.

If, in fact, it had been his intention to write down the name of Yuinouzaka or blatantly hint at it, Yuinouzaka could hardly have hesitated—all reason and sense should have been thrown out the window in favor of primitive survival.

But it wasn't.

For what the victim wrote with trembling fingers was:

“The round and square are at odds

Inverted triangles are overly familiar

While straight lines are attached”

(……)

And with that, his old friend breathed his last.

He couldn't have ended him.

Even straining every sinew, the dying message seemed to have no end in sight, so anxious was he that the victim was meaning to write his name, which the victim was not, hence he did not move.

#okitegami kyouko #translation #boukyaku tantei

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purgetrooper77 · 1 year

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Star Wars: Trails of Red Episode 3: The Doctor

Rated: T

tw: none that I could think of

On the planet Monsolar there was a squad of Bith gunmen hunting down a Bothan prisoner. The Bothan was carrying a blaster he stole from an unknown black market. He turned around only to see five Bith chasing him. He fired behind him only to kill one Bith. The Bith fired back but missed the Bothan. Suddenly a female yellow Nautolan with red eyes jumped out of the bushes and fired at the Bith squad. Three Bith soldiers were killed by the attacking Nautolan. The male Bothan turned around and shot down the last two Bith. The Nautolan approached the Bothan. "For a second I thought I was a goner." Bothan said. "I'm always by your side, Norzan." she replied. Norzan and the female Nautolan are close friends who go on adventures together. Both are running low on food and money. "There will be more of them soon." Norzan said. "Luckily I know a place where food is stored. Follow me." The two aliens went east and found a large sack of food outside the forest. It was near a large boulder covered in moss. Norzan felt something was wrong. "It could be a trap." Norzan said. "You actually think someone will use food to trap us?" she asked. "Gideeva, I am serious." "Okay, let's test it." Gideeva said. Gideeva picked up a nearby rock and threw it at the food. Three IG Assassin droids jumped out of the shadows only to be shot down and killed by Norzan. "Okay, that was a trap." Gideeva said. Gideeva was always a reckless Nautolan. She is very lucky to have Norzan by her side. "This planet is full of dangerous people." Norzan said. "Tell me about it, we can't find good food here." Gideeva complained. "The best place we can go now are the cave systems." "As in, we are going underground on this planet?" "What other choice do we have?" Gideeva looked at the surface of the planet. "Okay, I'll go underground with you." she said. The two close friends ran to find a cave system and hid underground. A Zeta-class Heavy Cargo Shuttle landed on the ground. There was a squad of Alzoc TK Troopers searching for a local criminal. "This is TK-1123, we have entered Monsolar." the leader of the squadron said. Two TK Troopers looked to their right only to see a dead Bith gunman on the ground. "Well, it looks like a criminal did that alright." said the third oldest TK Trooper. "Question is, what kind of criminal?" the fourth oldest TK Trooper asked. A Nosaurian peaked his head out from a tree. The TK Troopers turned on their night vision only to encounter the Nosaurian. "There's one!" the second oldest trooper yelled. The Nosaurian drew out his blaster and shot down two TK Troopers. The lead TK Trooper fired his blaster but the Nosaurian dodged the attack. He climbed down a tree and shot down three more TK Troopers. There were three TK Troopers left. "Get back to the shuttle and alert the Empire!" ordered the lead TK Trooper. TK-1123 was shot in the head by the Nosaurian. The last two TK Troopers ran away only to be shot down and killed by the Nosaurian. The Nosaurian ran away as soon as the entire squad of TK Troopers were killed. Gideeva and Norzan made it to the deep parts of the cave system. The caves are so deep, no one could see the two. Norzan drew out a flashlight so that both he and Gideeva could see a small amount of light in the cave. "What are we going to do now?" Gideeva asked. "Honestly I have no idea. Everyone either wants us captured or dead." "But why, what did we even do?" "The Empire hates Jedi Sympathizers and Separatist lovers." "I thought the Jedi did nothing wrong." Gideeva said. "The Jedi did nothing wrong. They helped fight the Clone War. It was that Sith Lord that clouded the minds of Clone Troopers which led them to kill their own generals." Norzan confirmed. "I understand the Jedi Sympathizer but not the Separatist lovers. I don't love Separatists at all." "The Empire knows you have Separatist relatives." Norzan explained. "Yeah but that doesn't mean I love Separatists, it means I tolerated my relatives political beliefs." Gideeva said. There were loud blaster noises coming from above. "What was that?" she asked. "We are not alone." Norzan said. Norzan gave Gideeva his flashlight and ran to investigate the blaster noise. Norzan jumped forward only to see a male Talpiddan staring at a dead Bith gunman. The Talpiddan turned around and spotted Norzan. Norzan took two steps backwards. "Hello, Bothan." the Talpiddan greeted. "Are you part of a criminal syndicate?" "I was, until my friends ditched me on this backwater planet. I was here to steal food from the rich. Apparently someone has beaten me to it." Norzan sees a medical symbol on the Talpiddan's left shoulder. "Are you a medic?" Norzan asked. "Yes I am, a cardiologist to be more exact. I am Dr. Tel Gikon." "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Norzan. I have a Nautolan friend in the caves. We need your help." Norzan told him. "I do have a ship west of here. Currently it is guarded by Bith gunmen and IG Assassins." "My friend and I will fend them off." Norzan told him. "You sure?" Gikon asked. "I am sure." Norzan assured. Gideeva ran up and met up with Gikon and Norzan. "I heard you were fending off people?" she asked. "Yes, but first introductions. Dr. Gikon this is my friend Gideeva. Gideeva this is Dr. Gikon. He is stranded like us." "We'll get to your ship in time. What kind of ship is it?" Gideeva asked. "It is a modified Nemesis-class gunship. West of here." Gikon answered. "Let's go." Gideeva encouraged. The three aliens readied their blasters and moved west of Monsolar. A large portion of Bith gunmen looked at the three friends as they all fired their blasters. Norzan shot down five Bith as Gikon shot down four. Gideeva shot down three Bith. The lead gunman fired his blaster. Norzan dodged the blaster fire and shot down the leader as Gikon shot down three Bith. Gideeva shot down two Bith gunmen that were near the gunship. Gikon turned to the right and shot down the last four gunmen. They all entered the gunship. Gikon got into the cockpit, activated the gunship, and took off from Monsolar never to return. Inonok, Bezz, Borkal, Edojan, and Mokor were in the Ubdur System. In the Ubdur System there was a small space station that has been around since 32 BBY. The population inside the station was lower than five hundred people. They were all enjoying the new life as life around them is surrounded by walls of chatter. "Ahh, this is the life we wanted." Edojan said. "Indeed, I'm glad we pulled the heist." Mokor said. "What do you all want to do?" Inonok asked. "I know a place where we all could go. There is a beautiful beach planet in the Trilon Sector filled with great food and amazing houses. We can go there, eat food, spend time at the beach, all of that fun stuff." Bezz said. "Sounds like a great idea." Edojan said. "Let's go there now." Mokor said. The space station was attacked by U-Wing bounty hunter ships. The starships arrived unannounced which put the entire station in a state of panic. Inonok got into his armed freighter and took off from the space station. He tailgated and destroyed two bounty hunter ships. Three U-Wings fired at the freighter. The freighter took little damage from the U-Wings. Inonok turned his ship around and destroyed four more bounty hunter ships. The remaining two U-Wings turned around but were all destroyed by Inonok's starship. Inonok made his armed freighter return to the space station. He got out of his freighter to explain everything to his friends. "What happened?" Bezz asked. "Bounty hunters attacked the space station. I assume they attacked because word got out that we stole from the Raaf Mansion." Inonok said. "Then we need to split up." Mokor said. "No, we need to fight off every bounty hunter till their clients can't send them anymore." Bezz said. "Or we could find the person who is sending bounty hunters after us." Borkal suggested. "Exactly what I was thinking." Inonok said. "Where do we go to do that?" Bezz asked. "I might know a place." "Where?" Edojan asked. "Kimanan, it's in the Inner Rim." Inonok answered. "Kimanan, there is nothing there." Mokor said. "I have heard stories about criminal activities involving bounty hunters there. Besides, it is the Inner Rim we're talking about. Nothing screams criminal activity without the Inner Rim." Inonok said. "Well I don't see why we can't go there." Bezz said. "Me too, let's go to Kimanan." Borkal said. The five rich aliens went into the armed freighter and took off from the space station. They jumped to hyperspace to start their next mission in the Inner Rim Territories.

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