#its not being able to use any other pronouns aside from he/him/his because no one will use 'he' ever again for me. in fact a lot of times
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Blooming Hearts
Jean Kirstein x reader (**implied fem, they/them pronouns used) mini series, reincarnation au.
** - implied that reader stays with Sasha and Mikasa in the girl's dorms as a cadet.
summary : you never thought that some freshly bloomed flowers and newly brewed tea would help you meet the one person you desperately wanted to meet.
warnings : some angst, mild manga spoilers
a/n : last chapter!!! sorry this came out so late i just haven't been finding the motivation lately but here it is!! hope you guys like it :D
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tagging: @a10vely-yutazen
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Chapter Five - Rebirth
You stretched your limbs, sore from the ODM gear and relentless fighting. You should have been used to it, really. All the killing, all the screams and blood. But you weren’t, even after so many years of being an experienced soldier.
How could you ever get used to killing? It was a ruthless thing, to kill a part of your own species, much less your own comrades. The face of the Commander Pixis as a titan was still ingrained into your mind, unable to cast it aside.
You stepped out to the deck of the ship, looking around for your lover.
You spotted Mikasa to your left, lost in thought, as her hair flew wildly in the wind. Your gaze turned forward, finding the back of your beloved, deciding to approach him first.
His forearms were pressed into the railing. To everyone else it would’ve seemed like he had everything together, but you knew better. His gaze was distant, eyebrows slightly furrowed and you could almost hear him grinding his teeth.
Your hand reached his jaw, caressing it softly, making him loosen the tightness he had welcomed into it. His eyes fluttered close.
“how’re you feeling, flower boy?” you asked gently, not wanting to disturb Mikasa.
The nickname seemed to relax him a bit, and his lips twitched upwards. You counted that as a win in your books.
He sighed heavily, his broad shoulders slumping with defeat.
“its… its too much. Its so much. I want it to stop and the worst part hasn’t even started yet.” He said, voice cracking.
Your hand travelled up his jaw and stopped at his cheek, where you rested your palm near the corner of his mouth.
“I know. There’s… a lot going on right now.” You sighed, “I dont know if it gets better. But, if its any consolation, I promise to be here with you when it does.”
His eyes opened at that, “it is. It’s plenty consolation, poppy.” He kissed your palm and kept his eyes focused on you.
“you’ll have your dream one day, Kirstein. After this last thing is over you’ll be able to live semi-peacefully, somewhere safe.” You said, leaning into him.
“semi-peaceful? Why not fully?” he asks. He wants to humour you, and you know it. So, you let him, just like all the other times.
“well you don’t expect your kids and two cats to be quiet, do you?”
He chuckles in what seemed to be forever. You hadn’t seen him laugh in so long, you had almost forgotten how good it made you feel.
His eyes crinkled shut, his hair flying because of the wind, strands of it framing his face. You almost forgot how much you loved seeing this sight, how much it only strengthened your feelings for him.
Your love for him was rooted so deep into you, and you had gladly let it. Your heart was in his hands, roughened by the years of abrasiveness to them, yet still so gentle to you. He had burrowed himself in you, in your thoughts and memories and happiness, that it almost felt like he was a part of you. you had etched him on to you like a promise you’d keep repeating to yourself, a line you kept saying so that youd memorize it. And truly, you had memorized him. you had memorized every wrinkle, every hair, every freckle and every scar on his body and mind.
And you’d never forget him. you would carry him with you till the day you died, and perhaps even lifetimes after that.
That wouldn’t be so bad, you thought, as he kissed your nose and looked out to the horizon again.
It wouldn’t be bad at all.
your mind was buzzing as you stood infront of the door to the “mansion” as sasha had put it, and she wasn’t wrong.
The house seemed to be massive, the gate itself had tight security as you spotted four guards near the front. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help it. You, like your other friends, looked at the structure in awe at the numerous amounts of windows, some with their lights on.
You could here soft music playing from the inside, followed by a rumbling round of laughter. It seemed like the party had already started.
Jean let out a whistle. “this is fucking huge.”
You heard Connie whisper a “that’s what she said”, followed by Sasha elbowing him in the ribs.
“should we… ring the bell?” you asked. Marco shrugged, still looking at the building, taking in the architecture. you took that as a yes.
The bell rang with the same tune you knew it would ring in; the tune that all rich families had in movies.
You knew Historia was a queen previously but you didn’t know that it would translate to… this. You hoped she had a relatively happy life as compared to her last one. She deserved that.
The music inside stopped, and the enormous front door finally opened.
A short, familiar looking blonde with blue eyes crinkled with a wide smile greeted you, “welcome, guys!” she said chirpily, but there was no fakeness behind her smile, no lie in her happiness this time.
You had seen her around campus, and had spotted her and ymir, you guessed, together at the tea shop in some of your shifts. You never recognized her, though. You’d never been keen to introduce yourself to her everytime you saw her, but it made sense now seeing her being historia.
The memories flew by everyone’s heads. You had gotten kind of used to this, as had everyone else, so you just mirrored historia’s smile, though yours wasn’t as wide. You didn’t think anyone’s smile could match hers.
“hey, hisu!” sasha said, and you could almost see tears in her eyes.
Your shoulders relaxed as your feet carried you to the blonde, hugging her tightly as she hugged you back. You felt sasha join, followed by connie, then marco and jean.
the warmth made your heart swirl around in your chest, like how your hair would sway with summer breeze.
It all felt so familiar, your bones almost hurt.
Then again, it could just be connie squeezing you.
The group separated from the hug, but jean’s hands had somehow found yours, with no physical inclination to removing it.
You hesitantly welcomed his gentle yet firm grip on your wrist, as historia led all of you inside the house you had stood admiring for three minutes. Historia glanced at jean’s hold on you, as she sent you a wink, and led your group into the house.
Historia was really one of the first people you openly admitted to having a crush on Jean. Though she couldn’t really help much because of your stubborn reluctancy, she did cheer you on from the sidelines as you did her with Ymir. You and her grew apart over the years, after she had been crowned queen, and with Ymir gone, you’d hardly hear from her for months. Regardless of her busy schedule and broken heart, she replied to almost all of your letters. The last one you sent stated about you were scared of the war, asking about how she was doing with her pregnancy. You didn’t know if she had ever answered it, and you wouldn’t have known even if she did.
You could almost feel the excitement as you entered the house. Your gaze was fixed on historia, talking animatedly with sasha and Connie, promising to give them a tour of her house. The hallway that led to the main drawing room itself was long, leading to a staircase.
“please give us a tour of the kitchen. I swear I won't touch anything I just really want to see.” Sasha pleaded. You smiled, biting the inside of your cheeks, seeing niccolo hide his face with his hand, pretending to be embarrassed, even though you knew he wanted to see the kitchen as well.
Marco piped up from your left, “calm down sash. Im pretty sure hisu has snacks for us.” He said, to which historia nodded enthusiastically.
“well why didn’t you say that before, and what are we still doing here-“
“there you guys are, finally! We were wondering what all that commotion was about.” You heard someone’s voice boom through the corridor.
Jean instinctively shuffled closer to you, shoulder touching yours as his grip slightly tightened on your wrist. Based on his reaction alone, you immediately knew who’s voice it was.
“Jaeger bomb!” connie almost shouted. Even though connie had met eren last week, it didn’t stop him from tackling him with a hug which eren thankfully reciprocated with the same energy.
“eren, wait.”
Mikasa.
Her voice was the same, gentle and scolding, kind of like a mother, though the hard edge of it was gone. She emerged in the hallway, her red scarf nowhere to be found. Instead, in its place, was a choker.
You had to admit, her aesthetic fit her more than you’d have imagined. She wore an oversized black t-shirt, paired with a short skirt that almost hid under the shirt. Her neck was adorned with about three chains, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if she had gotten a belly button piercing as well. Her eyeliner was bold, and she wore black lipstick as though it was made for her, and you were pretty sure it was.
Her hair was longer, tied into two buns. You left jean’s side and joined sasha in going in for a bear hug, swaying lightly as Mikasa swayed with both of you.
the sheer familiarity of all your oldest new friends almost made your knees buckle. You were pretty sure you’d have fallen down already if it wasn’t for Mikasa and sasha’s grip on you.
--
“come on, (y/n)! everyone else who’s done it has been caught!” sasha cried, holding your hand in hers.
Mikasa sat beside the two of you, on your shared bunk, as she watched sasha practically climb on to you, begging you to sneak into the kitchens to bring her a snack.
Everyone knew sasha’s definition of a snack was basically a feast.
“this is peer pressure! I will not succumb.” You said, but you already knew your resolve was crumbling. The smile on your face slipped out, and sasha knew she won, a smile of her own creeping on her lips, as she let out a small squeal.
It was almost a weekly occurrence : after your hand to hand combat training in which you’d always somehow end up paired with jean, sasha would get incredibly hungry, usually right after dinner time. Everyone else in the dorm would get ready for bed, half anticipating sasha to convince you into submission. She’d eventually sit right beside you, pleading eyes meeting yours as Mikasa would try to tell her to calm down.
Of course, after you caved, youd sneak into the kitchens expertly, escaping shadis’ hawk eyed rounds while sasha and Mikasa would cover for you. returning with some leftover bread and cold potatoes, you’d leave some for the boys near their dorms and make your way to your own bunk, where sasha and the rest of your friends would greet you with wide smiles and whispered “thank you’s” while grabbing some of the food,one of the rare occasions where Mikasa and sometimes even annie would crack a smile.
“when eren and I were in singhanshina, we’d always do this. Carla – eren’s mom – would always pull eren’s ear in the morning when she found out that half the bread was gone.” Mikasa said lowly and she munched on half of the potato you shared with her.
You smiled thinking about it.
“when I was little, I’d bring home all the produce from the garden but sneak some into my room before my dad found out about it. I don’t think he ever found out about it, actually. To be fair, it was a lot of produce. Oh and the mea-“
“don’t speak with your mouth full, sash. You’ll choke.” You said, swallowing a bite of your own potato.
“eh. It’ll be worth it. Better than dying at the hands of titans.”
“fair. I’d like to die doing something I love.” You said, which grabbed mikasa’s attention.
“and what would that be?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe of old age? That’s pretty boring though.”
“oh, maybe you should go out in a blaze of glory!” sasha said, eyes bright.
“nah, that’s not my thing. Maybe just something peaceful, knowing I’ve done my job well, yaknow?” you whisper, stuffing the last bit of the potato in your mouth.
Mikasa sighs softly, “I just…. Don’t want to watch my friends die before me. I know it will be inevitable… but I don’t want to be the last one remaining.”
“you wont be, mika.” You say, turning to look at her on your left. Her gaze was fixated on her lap, the skin of the boiled potato discarded into her left hand. The soft glow of the candle made her grey eyes look softer than how they usually looked during training.
“yeah! Besides, we’re brave enough to protect ourselves. We want to be here for you too.” Sasha said, hugging mikasa’s side, as you did the same.
Mika placed her own non-dirty hand on the ones engulfing her in a hug, burying her chin into her scarf.
“thank you,” she says, “thank you.”
--
jean’s hand found it’s way to the small of your back, almost as if being with his old friends activated the reflexes that he forgot he had, as if his hand would burn off if he didn’t hold you in some way.
But everytime you moved away from his touch he felt his heart stop. He expected this, of course. He’d hurt you and it was idiotic to think that you’d forgive him just like that.
Jean watched from the side as you interacted with reiner and bertholdt, laughing at ymir’s harsh jabs at reiner. Jean mostly remained silent, watching the others joke around and catch up, adding his own opinions once in a while. Sitting on the plush couch that he knew cost more than his entire tuition, surrounded by his friends’ laughter and warm chatter, jean felt…alone. You were so far out of his reach now, standing near reiner, at the other end of the room, where your voice didn’t quiet reach his ears unless you were laughing.
He sighed slightly, getting up without an excuse to tell marco, exiting the current conversation between marco and eren. Something about eren’s degree that jean didn’t really pay attention to.
Making his way over to you, he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“jean! How have you been?” reiner exclaimed, having noticed him first.
Jean shrugged, “can’t really complain. Glad to see you’re here, though.” He says, and he means it. Over the years, he grew to find in himself the forgiveness reiner needed, even growing closer to him after…everything. Now, especially in this new life, he knew reiner didn’t need to be blamed for that. Though jean still had troubles when he first met him, he quickly got over those bitter feelings. No need to carry them into a new life, right?
Reiner beamed at him, something he never did before this life. He seemed at peace, for once, and who was jean to ruin that?
Reiner continued talking to you, pulling out his phone to show you pictures of his dog, lola, who jean had seen multiple times before. Jean watched you coo at the pictures, zooming into them and pointing out details about the dog he hadn’t even noticed himself.
Jean’s eyes softened. He had to do something about this tension he so readily welcomed before, he had to fix this. So what if he felt like he would loose you again? he’d make the most of it, this time. He’d dreamt about asking you to marry him way too many times for it to not have become a reality. He was not going to hide behind his fears anymore, if he was taught anything from his past life was that he was a coward, but a brave one at that. He would prove it now, with you. he owed it to you, to himself.
He cleared his throat, a desperate act to grab your attention. You, however, kept on reiner’s phone, who was now showing you a video of his new coffee machine he got with bertholdt. Jean tried again, this time reaching his hand on the small of your back. his spot.
You look at him, finally, and jean cheers internally.
“can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks, and he’s sure you'll say no. you’re sure you’ll say no, too, but you couldn’t. like an instinct, something you couldn’t control, you nodded. You couldn’t throw away a lifetime with him for his stupidity, and you for one, were well acquainted with jean’s stupidity.
You excuse yourself from reiner, asking him to send you more of the videos of the coffee machine, and followed jean to one of the many giant balconies in historia’s house. How he knew the way, you had no idea.
He closed the glass doors as you stood by the railing. You knew he was nervous about explaining whatever situation he was in to you. mentally preparing yourself for hearing the worst of the words you kept hidden in your mind these past few months, you braced yourself. You were scared that hearing it from him would make it more real, more soul crushing, the fact that your past lover now loved someone else. You wouldn’t know how to handle it, if even you could. It was ironic, really, that in your last life you’d fought till your last breath, only to be scared of a mere sentence in this world. You wanted to delay this as much as you could, you wanted to keep the memories of jean in your arms in the nights you spent in marley, the only time you allowed yourself to have any semblance of a normal, domestic life with him.
Jean shuffled next to you, and you tried to control your breath.
“look…” he started, turning his head to look at you. you refused to meet his eyes, fearing the lump in your throat would bubble its way up through your tears. You kept your focus on the lone pole star that twinkled in the sky.
You heard him sigh, “can you… look at me, when I do this, please? I need to know what youre feeling.” He asks.
You let out your own breath, mirroring his sigh. Staring down at his shoes first, you reluctantly bring yourself up to look at him. the grip you had on the railing tightened, and his eyes flickered down to them. Swallowing, you nodded for him to continue, your face remaining expressionless.
“I’m… okay, I know I’ve been a complete dick to you these past few months. I have an explanation, I really do, but I wanted to say sorry first. You definitely didn’t deserve that. God, you… you deserve so much more than this, really,” he let out a sad laugh, “but I’m sorry. Im so, so, so sorry.” He says.
You blink, tilting your head slightly. You weren’t expecting an apology for his behaviour, but honestly, you took it. He had been a dick, for lack of a better word, and you were glad he was apologizing for that instead of telling you he found someone new. You knew it was coming, but you decided to savour this moment a little bit before jean continued. He opened his mouth to speak before you interrupted him.
“its alright. You have been…”
“terrible? Rude? Asshole-ish?”
Your lips twitch. “all of the above.” You inhale. You had to do this yourself, instead of hearing it from his mouth, the same mouth that kissed you in your last life so lovingly that you were sure he could’ve brought you back to life if he tried. “I know what you’re gonna say, and it’s… it’s okay. I mean, I’d only expect you to move on, you know? Its literally been a lifetime. I… its okay if you ran out of patience and wanted to-“
“wait, what? What are you talking about?” he asks. His hands are no longer stuffed into his pockets, instead reaching out for yours. He looks at you like he’s hurt, his eyes scanning your face desperately. Your own brows furrow. Okay, now youre confused. He hasn’t moved on like you thought he had? That still made no sense, jean wouldn’t have just ignored all your advances just because he felt like it. You trusted him more than your own hands to know that he wouldn’t do that to you if he wasn’t influenced to.
“I thought… I thought you moved on, that’s why you were being like that. I mean I am hurt, but I also didn’t blame you for finding someone else. was that… not what you were going to tell me? that you’ve found someone?” you asked, mind whirring. Your grip on the railing loosened.
Jean looked at you for a minute, unblinking, and you baited your breath. He lets out a laugh then, his shoulders slumping. His hands cover his face up as he laughs like a madman, and you're left wondering what could’ve been so funny about what you said.
His hands slip off his face. He looks at you, eyes fixed on yours, no longer uncertain or confused or guilty. Theres a glisten to them, like he’s about to cry, and if you didn’t know any better, youd think he was angry, but the crinkle in the corner of his eyes showed you otherwise.
“jesus, you thought I moved on? From you? are you insane? Fucking hell, (y/n), I don’t think I could do that even if I tried. You’re… quiet literally my soulmate. I don’t know how I even survived without you for so many years.” He says.
“huh?” is all you can manage to say. you let out yet another audible breath, feeling like your heart could beat again. relief floods your veins in an instant, like his words magically have that effect on you, and you’re sure they do. They have to. He has to.
His hands make their way on your waist, and the butterflies that should have subsided by two lifetimes flutter in your stomach once more.
Jean feels shitty, he really does, but he cant help smiling. You're allowing him next to you, you're letting him hold you like this, and it feels right, like your waist was meant to be held by him and him only, like the lines on his palm would spell out your name if he squinted. He wants to kiss you already, but he knows that would come later, after he’s done explaining himself. So, he gets on with this, refusing to waste another second hurting you stupidly.
“the reason I did that was because I was scared.” He starts. Now he’s the one averting your eyes. He feels your gaze on him, but he looks at his hands placed on your waist instead. “I was scared… that I'd lose you again. I didn’t want to love you just to end up being more hurt than I was last time. It's selfish, and stupid and, again, im so sorry I did that, but god, you don’t understand how bad it was after you…” he trails off, pausing to blink his tears away. Clearing his throat, he continues, “it hurt so much without you. it hurt to look at every flower and think about you, it hurt to live in the house we’d always talked about without you, it hurt to even… it hurt to breathe without you, love, and i… I didn’t want to live without you again. and just the thought of losing you a second time…. But I realised that loosing you was far better than refraining myself to love you. you’re hard to not love.”
He lifts his head up then. Your eyes are shining, your mouth slightly agape, and when he moves to rest his forehead against yours, you don’t stop him. you eyes flutter and he feels your hand reach for his cheek. You rest your palm there, and he fights all the cells in his body to not kiss your hand.
“im sorry I ever did that. Im sorry I hurt you for so long, im sorry that I had to consciously not think about you. please forgive me.” his voice cracks at the end. Your thumb traces circles on his cheekbone. Jean’s heart aches, like the way his joints do when he’s been sitting down for a long time and he finally stands up. jean feels like he has just woken up and is stretching his limbs from their position. He feels anew.
He only hopes you feel the same, and when you smile, he knows you do.
“youre such an idiot.”
He smiles too, and your feel his muscles move from under your palm, “the biggest.”
“you’re forgiven. Just… never do that again.”
He shakes his head, his hair tickling your forehead as he moves. “never. I promise.”
“just fucking kiss already!” you hear a muffled voice say. both of you turn your heads to see connie with his hands cupped around his mouth, and sasha with some popcorn in her hand, chewing them with a big smile. Marco stood along with them shooting you an apologetic smile along with two thumbs up, and you heard jean groan at the three.
Shaking his head, he looked at you again, “so… can i?”
Your answer came in the form of pulling him even closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tangling your hands in his hair. He didn’t seem to care about the fact that you were messing up the hair that he meticulously styled for you, and you kissed his lips, his nose bumping into your cheek. You heard muffled cheers from inside the house, but the only thing you were focused on was his hands rubbing circles on your waist, one of them gradually finding its way to your cheek, trailing up your side in the process.
You swore you melted right there, and you swore he rebuilt you again, in two seconds, and when you both pulled apart from some much needed air, you sighed.
Pressing your lips onto the centre of his chest, you promised yourself to find him in all other universes all over again.
He smiled then, kissing the tip of your nose as shivers went up your spine. The soft yellow light glowed from the inside and he swore to himself that he’d find you in all other universes and hoped to kiss the tip of your nose just like he did in his last lifetime, just like he did in this one, just like he would in the next, and then the next, and then the next.
And even more after that.
He hoped.
--
#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirschstein x reader#jean kirstein#aot#jean kirstein x you#jean x reader#connie springer#sasha braus#marco bodt#attack on titan#snk#shingeki no kyojin
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"The Brave Little Toaster" is a Gay Allegory
Not only is it one of the best animated films of the '80's, it is by far the gayest. The film was released in 1987 and has had a considerable impact on the animation industry. This aside, in my many viewings of the film and research on its plot and characters, one thing has become obvious: the journey in the film is a metaphor for the journey of five queer appliances discovering their sexualities
The film follows five anthropomorphic appliances, Toaster, Lampy, Radio, Blanky, and Kirby the vacuum cleaner as they journey from their cottage in the woods to the big city to find their Master, who has seemingly abandoned them. Each appliance's personality reflects their function. Toaster is warm and the others see themselves in its chrome, making them comfortable around it, Lampy thinks of himself as bright but is actually a bit dim, Radio is always on, trying his best to entertain, Blanky is an insecurity blanket without his master, and Kirby holds everything inside. Each one of these appliances (with the exception of Blanky) is also implied to be gay
Toaster is Non-Binary with They/Them pronouns. You may be wondering to yourself right now, if this is so, why do the other appliances refer to them with He/Him pronouns in the film? This is because though Toaster considers themself Non-Binary, they actually don't have a preferred set of pronouns. Toaster used to be male with He/Him pronouns, which is why the four appliances they journey with use He/Him pronouns when referring to them. Toaster is also Aromantic. They rejected the flower not only because they couldn't be with it, but because they don't experience romantic attraction
Lampy and Radio are both implied to be in a relationship with each other. Though they seem to bicker a lot throughout the film, this is because they want to hide their love for each other, afraid of what others will think
Kirby is also Homosexual, having had feelings for Air Conditioner, a character that appeared briefly at the beginning of the film. Kirby is afraid of ruining his reputation, so he never admits to Air Conditioner that he was in love with him. Air Conditioner dies shortly after being introduced, and Kirby will never be able to come to terms with the fact that AC died before he could tell him how he felt
Blanky hasn't yet gone on his journey to find his sexuality, being so young, but he's still there to support his friends however he can
Though the appliances go on a literal journey to find their master during the course of the film, there is also a metaphorical journey they go on to discover that they shouldn't be ashamed of who they are. Though we're no where near perfect when it comes to supporting gay rights today, there was much less respect for queers in the 80's. The Brave Little Toaster is really a story about being proud of who you are, even when there's plenty of opposition
Toaster, Lampy, Kirby, Radio, and Blanky live together in a cottage. Lampy and Radio know they love each other, know they want to be a couple so badly, but there's also the unfortunate fact that they're both male, and two males being in a relationship together is frowned upon. So, they bicker and fight, out of the sadness that they can't ever be together. Kirby loves AC, and has thought about telling him plenty of times, but each time he grows afraid, knowing what others would think if it ever came out that he had feelings for another man. Toaster is starting to doubt that he's male in the first place, but he doesn't feel female either. He's confused, as there's no such thing yet as considering yourself Non-Binary. Blanky doesn't quite understand any of this, but is sad that his friends are so disheartened
They are all obviously getting very frustrated. AC, who also has feelings for Kirby, dies unexpectedly. Kirby is grief stricken, but tries his best to hide it
Toaster, who knew Kirby had feelings for AC, has had enough. They think that their friends should be able to love whoever they want. So, why not? They cry that they have nothing to be ashamed of!
The others at first are skeptical, but then they all agree. They think it would be amazing to be who they are, and not have to hide it any longer
So, Radio and Lampy become a couple, and Toaster freely ponders their gender. They're celebrated by some (the meadow), but by others, they're berated (the swamp), beaten up (the cutting edge appliances), and this leaves them in a dark place
Just when Toaster is wondering if it was even worth it to encourage them to be so open, they realize that even if most people don't have their backs, they'll always have each other
This is what the others realize too, and together, finally out of the darkness, they fight for their basic right: to be whoever they are
And that is the touching story of The Brave Little Toaster
(*Ok so originally this was supposed to be a joke but after a while of writing I started to realize this sounds pretty accurate. I know it isn't true, The Brave Little Toaster is not a gay allegory, but putting the pieces together it seems rather convincing. So, what do you think?*)
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hey hey, hope youve been doing well!! <3 ive lost sm sleep trying to tier pls i was ready to collapse
also tysm both of you for the kind words!! your headcanons inspired me to share mine and im glad that i did!! <3 also also horribly off topic but i go by he/they pronouns and ppl literally never use they/them and i think i sobbed a little seeing someone actually use it (which makes NO sense bc you didnt even know my preferred pronouns but im happy anyway sldhfk)
okay okay anyway i present you with short but sweet rui birthday headcanons!!
wxs would def try to give you a role in the birthday show
if you accept, rui would be rly touched seeing you try your best for him, and he would be so so happy watching you get along with wxs!!
if you cant enter the sekai, rui would love to spend his evening (or the next day) with you!!
he would adore and appreciate any plan you make for his special day, but he would def tease you about it (very lovingly)
if you asked him what he wanted to do, he would suggest a shopping trip for materials!! cue holding hands and talking about wtv while he shops for parts <3
he adores literally any gift you give him!!
if its something he can display, he would have it with him in his workshop!! if its something he can wear, he would always be wearing it!!
and while he absolutely adores the gift you gave him, he would treasure the time spent with you most <3
he thought that his birthdays would always be lonely but he was proven wrong, and he wouldnt have it any other way
happy (belated) birthday to rui <3
- tsukasa anon!!
You're back! I'm so happy! Tiering was pretty tough this last event, but now you can finally rest if you haven't already. Thank you for letting me know your pronouns so I know for the future. If I don't much about who I'm talking about I just use they/them by default, but I'm glad I got it right for you!
I feel bad for not doing much for Rui's birthday writing wise. I've just been creatively dead the past week. Thank you so much for the cute bday headcanons for him <3
He would be so moved seeing you taking part in a performance just for him. Even more so if you normally don't like going on stage and all.
I feel like you'd have to make one on one time with him the next day cause I'm sure Tsukasa and the others had a huge party for him. He couldn't care less about what he did or where he went or even what gift were given to him for his birthday (though he'd of course cherish it all), he is just so happy he now has people in his life to spend his birthday with, aside from just his parents and Nene. But regardless, spending a day going out to shop for things to use for the projects he loves making and getting a meal at a restaurant he loves all with the person he loves so dearly? He couldn't think of a better way to spend the day with you.
This might be a bit random, but I've had so many questions and ideas regarding the Sekai and who outside of the main 4 per group could be able to enter. Like, just thinking with wxs - if someone were to join their troupe to perform and help them reach their dreams, would they then be able to enter the Sekai? Let's say Rui dates someone and that person gets pretty close to the other three too, would they be able to enter, whether it be through their own untitled song or being near one of the others when they play it? I'm sure if Rui or any of the others were dating someone outside of their troupe, they'd have to tell them about the Sekai just because it's such a huge secret to keep from a partner, even if they can't enter and could only see the v singers through the phone holograms. I wanna know so bad lol
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reposting some meta i wrote about zenith on my dw specifically so i can reblog and add to it, b/c i like to keep things together. what’s under this cut is gonna be partly outdated b/c i’m tweaking some stuff in the reblog don’t worry about it. if you haven’t read it or plan to reread it i’d maybe recommend waiting until i reblog the additions so all the info is together. though also there’s a lot here because i got that wordy bitch disease so like kudos if you make it though any part of this at any point. okay yeah so everything after this paragraph is Older Content
first, because i haven't talked about him here aside from some outdated aside in a list somewhere, a brief rundown! zenith (pseudonym, he/they) or vol'gelmeth (true name, it/they) is an aberration from the far realm who has projected an aspect of himself into the material plane in the form of a dhampir avatar. his plan is to gather enough strength to eventually be able to manifest fully in the material plane, and also to explore and experience and learn about the material plane because he's fascinated by it. zenith presents himself to others as a human cleric of the vol'gelmeth who's totally a different being and also has an eight pack. the intent WAS for his avatar to be fully human but sometimes you're too alien a being to stuff yourself into just a normal human body, and also he eats dreams, so, dhampir. it's fine. just gives him an extra layer of things to try to hide.
second, pics! newest first
most recent design-tweaks to make him easier to draw, so this is his most up-to-date design. he looks more blond here than in other drawings but that's just shading though, his hair is white. the amulet is his Amulet of the Devout, since we were allowed two magic items to start, and it's not shown here but it has the symbol for vol'gelmeth that zenith designed himself lol
drew this when i had the realization that as a dhampir he'd have fangs even if the thing he eats isn't necessarily tangible. i toyed with a design that was ALL sharp teeth instead of just the incisors and i love that but eh. his true form has all sharp teeth so i'll get my fill there. not that anyone but haley as DM gets to see his true form yet. i've got my kid's secrets all laid out for the rest of the party i'm allowed to keep the design a secret even if no one cares but me lmao
drawn when i decided i was going to play him for CoS
lyrics from 'community gardens' by the scary jokes
one of my first pics of him, i kinda miss the scruffier outfit vs the more put-together outfit he's got now but we can mix and match. it's fine. it's all flavor text.
and finally... the bullet points
to explain the pronoun situation a bit better, the actual character is comfortable with he/they/it. as zenith, the dhampir avatar pretending to be human, he uses just he/they. when referring to vol'gelmeth as if they're a separate being, it/they. the reason for the difference is one part zenith trying to create differences between his two aspects to make his disguise/deception stronger, one part him picking up on how humanoids most commonly use pronouns and adding that to his disguise/deception (meaning like, it/its isn't a common pronoun for humanoids, but they DO use it/its when talking about non-humanoids), and one part him gaining more of an understanding of gender as he spends time on this plane and deciding he/him is fine
if forced at gunpoint to describe his gender, zenith would go with 'agender' or 'no' or something along those lines. i have no idea what his species is like culturally, but i do know that gender is a new concept to him. he's largely uninterested in it personally, like it's a neat enough thing to learn about but it's separate from him, y'know? he generally prefers neutral language, so they/them and it/its feel comfortable and correct, but as his avatar is seemingly AMAB he's had masc language used for him by others who assumed and he's decided that's fine, both in that it doesn't bother him and that he likes it, again, as a thing that separates Zenith from Vol'Gelmeth. so i guess it's less that he likes he/him on a personal level, it's more just part of his disguise? he hasn't had enough experience with she/her to feel comfortable with it yet so he's just avoiding that set.
i swap his pronouns around more while talking out loud, like in-game. in writing you'll notice it's mostly he/him. that's just easier for me. it's fine.
i talked so much more about gender than i originally intended but like [gestures at self] to be expected i guess
from reading the WOTC lore, my understanding of how dhampir work is that they feed on aspects of humanoids but they don't necessarily need to in order to survive? they're described as having ties to the undead/vampires but not being fully there, and they have their hunger but can control or suppress it through intense willpower. which to me reads like they can eat other stuff due to being partly/technically alive but they crave whatever it is they hunger for? if they NEEDED it they couldn't control/suppress it without starving, right? if anyone has a different interpretation of the text lmk. obviously we can throw WOTC lore in the garbage as necessary and as approved by the DM but i like having the framework sometimes and dhampir are new enough to dnd that i only have so many sources to formulate opinions on.
zenith in his true form i think like... ONLY eats dreams, or at least primarily does? maybe just primarily, the way i designed his true form he's got a mouth and teeth and all of that implies to me that he's a creature that at least CAN physically eat things, not just psychically. zenith as the humanoid avatar... i'm not sure??? i know he CAN eat other stuff and does, and i think right now i'm hesitantly going with 'needs to eat human food to maintain the humanoid body, needs to eat dreams to maintain the rest of him and get stronger'? so i'm backtracking on the 'dhampir don't NEED to feed their hunger to survive' thing for zenith specifically, not my concept of dhampir in general, since he's a weird situation being an aberration which isn't necessarily supported by the game stats, if that makes sense.
NEW BULLET I'M CONFUSING MYSELF okay. zenith has to eat both human food and also dreams. needs human food more regularly perhaps so that the humanoid body doesn't just fucking collapse, craves dreams more intensely. i think that's what we're going with. maybe.
i like being able to do whatever i want with the lore but i also struggle if the framework given isn't clear enough by my standards and i'm struggling here
god looking at the dhampir stats and i forgot zenith doesn't need to breathe and also has natural spider climb. fantastic. just a normal human dude, hello fellow humans
he also has the fanged bite ability which i'm looking forward to perhaps using some day
zenith definitely had a ROUGH time when he first manifested on the material plane because of a combo of four things; 1) being in a new alien plane, 2) being in a new alien body, 3) being in two bodies/places at once, 4) being exhausted from whatever ritual or spell or whatever he did to accomplish the split in the first place
some differences between the far realm and the material plane are that the far realm is composed of an infinite number of layers that shift continuously, and the air is described as syrupy thick with time and gravity being things that don't exist. far realm denizens move through the air by 'swimming' and can pass through the layers with a thought, or exist on multiple layers at a time. the far realm is specifically described as Lovecraftian and being 'beyond sanity', and is so far outside even the outer planes that it's often not included in the standard cosmology. which is why it's also referred to as just 'Outside'. so basically it's a real fucked up alien world
zenith, while very much an alien, is not the same degree as Unknowable and Unfathomable as other far realm denizens can be. i imagine it's a scale, and he falls significantly closer to the end that doesn't drive you crazy if you look at it. this allows him to (mostly) successfully communicate with dreamers of the material plane (though i imagine that took lots of trial and error) and gives him motivations that normal people can understand for the most part; he's driven most by curiosity and by hunger. so he's got a good head start there for successfully transferring to the material plane. he's at least not so completely divorced from reality as its known there as to make him incompatible with it.
doesn't make the transition easy, though! for all the reasons why waking up in the plane i described a couple bullets up would be jarring for us, waking up in the material plane is jarring for him. i imagine gravity is weird to contend with suddenly, the air simultaneously heavier and thinner. less resistance and more resistance at the same time. the surroundings aren't just completely different, the way you perceive the surroundings is different with the lack of shifting layers. i'd imagine everything feels incredibly still in comparison. so there's all that and more as a thing to adjust to!
also, new human/dhampir body! his true form is a (mostly) physical one that's very different from a humanoid but it's got a head and eyes and limbs so that's a good start, but still. new body. it's weird.
ALSO yeah, existing in two places at once! piloting two bodies at once! that can't be easy on top of everything else, there was no way for him to practice or gauge how any of this would feel, he just fucking did it, so it'd just be.... 'disorienting' is probably putting it mildly?
at the start of the campaign it's been uhhhhh i think we determined like 6 months or so since he manifested on the material plane. so he's had the chance to figure this out! this plane is still alien and weird to him but he can move around in it without feeling like he's having the WORST kind of bad trip anymore. the biggest thing that's still a factor is he's still got two bodies in two different planes. i imagine he has to cope with that by like... focusing 100% of everything on one body at a time. i'm thinking he like parked himself somewhere safe back home, somewhere quiet and secure where he could puppeteer his material avatar from, so he just has to settle in and focus completely on being Zenith and it's fine.
i'd think that he can't ignore his original body all the time, so when it's safe he'll switch focus and like... stretch, move around, check things out. not for long, he doesn't want to get used to what home feels like and then have to go back to the material plane and adjust to that again, and also the humanoid body is so much smaller and squishier and more vulnerable and he doesn't like leaving it unattended
he largely avoids switching between the two as much as he can, because it'll always be jarring and it'll always leave him vulnerable.
one big drive for him to gather enough strength to manifest fully in the material plane is so he doesn't have to be split like this anymore. that's probably like one of the top two motivators, have access to all his power and not be in two places at once.
i don't fully know what 'eating dreams' looks like yet. i'm sure we'll figure that out as we play but right now i don't know if it's a fully psychic thing or what? i feel like it's not as easy for him to do now that he's split vs when he could just hunt for dreamers from home with whatever psychic power he's got that lets him cross the planes to eat dreams. i don't know if he has to be within a certain physical proximity to the dreamer now that he's on the material plane, or if he has to actively touch/interact with the dreamer, or how exactly it works. i have no fucking clue. i know there's some aspect of hunting dreams down, just not 100% sure what that looks like. on the outside like some form of meditation maybe? idk!
deep speech is the native language of aberrations, and it has no script on its own but mortals use the espruar script to write it down, which implies to me that far realm denizens don't have a use for reading/writing. which means that zenith has taught himself how to read and write, probably mostly while actively on the material plane. maybe picked up a little while he was learning common via dreams but dreams aren't reliable. you ever try to read in a dream
since he's proficient in deep speech, common, and abyssal, he can definitely read and write fluently, but i think he has the classic problem of not always knowing how things are written/pronounced if he's never heard/read it. like he'll tend to say and write things phonetically and need to be corrected. there's also just a bunch of words he hasn't encountered yet though understanding context clues helps
his handwriting his probably atrocious
he doesn't NEED to be able to write in deep speech, it's not a super well-used language in the material plane, but he absolutely learned how because that's his language and he wants to be able to write in it!
before coming to the material plane, zenith LOVED talking with humanoids via their dreams! they're interesting and he likes talking to people! and then he gets to eat the dream when he's done so it's a great time for him. socialization/entertainment and food.
i think that if someone were to pray to him zenith would be able to respond back, but i'm not sure if he can communicate through dreams while he's split like this? mostly because it feels OP to give myself that ability. the Dream spell can do that but it's a lvl 5 spell and i don't feel like i can just say Oh I Can Do That y'know lmao. that was very frustrating for him to discover, that he can't do that anymore. another reason for him to want to manifest fully in the plane, hopefully be able to manipulate dreams again instead of only eating them, he likes the manipulating part.
zenith has absolutely no idea what the experience is on the other side of the dream-eating thing. no clue what it feels like or if it hurts or what happens at all. he'd be interested in knowing but he doesn't particularly care on an emotional level. he's pretty sure it doesn't KILL the dreamer because he's talked to people more than once before but it wouldn't stop him if it did tbh
part of the reason i'm writing all this down is b/c i know i've been asked if zenith wants/has followers and i have absolutely no idea what my answer was because i said it out loud and didn't write it down but i'm pretty sure my answer has changed? maybe? i have no clue. any way zenith would be thrilled to have followers. i don't think he's tried taking on warlocks or anything like that, like he hasn't shared his power to be anyone's patron, but it's not something he's opposed to. not his priority at the moment but like, sounds like fun! he likes attention and seeing what people do and as long as it doesn't rob him of too much of his own power he'd be down to try! he'd be down to be someone's god. the idea of being a god sounds REAL nice, actually. he loves that.
outside of actively being a patron, does he have followers? people that pray to him? i don't know! the idea is interesting to me! he'd be happy to chat with people though i don't know what all he'd be able to do in return outside of share any info they want about the far realm or any other realm he's learned about. i know in this split state there's even less he could do than if he was at full power.
i think right now he's mostly focused on just exploring the material plane and gathering power to manifest in it fully, but after that.... after that, being a patron sounds like fun. being a god sounds like FUN.
something i wrote before on a related topic; "zenith doesn't necessarily WANT to kill anyone. he'll do it if he feels he has to but that's not his goal. the likes the material plane and its denizens! they're interesting! he just wants to explore and learn and experience! and eat but don't worry about that one. and maybe gain followers but that's one's fine. it's a plane full of creatures that dream and if you play your cards right they might worship you. just gotta get stronger and put out feelers and consider giving gifts of power in exchange. power can be exchanged for worship and services. and perhaps food. he loves this plane."
aberrations are generally considered monsters and zenith would be mildly offended at the implication though he also wouldn't fight it too hard. he preys on people for food so like he doesn't have much room to argue. but like don't be rude about it
zenith's only introduction to the material plane before showing up on it was via dreams, so his concept of the world and its general culture was very skewed, though he figured that out quickly. he's still learning stuff and i've got a google doc with a list of facts and 'facts' he's picked up on in the campaign so far. he's now under the impression that mushrooms can talk just in general, though it's not recommended, and as far as he knows it's normal for water ordered at taverns to be murky.
i wouldn't say that he's gullible, he just... y'know, he's an alien. and he doesn't want to tell anyone that he is so he's afraid to ask for clarification on things. so people say things with a certain confidence and he makes assumptions. or he asks for water at a tavern and he's handed a glass of water that's murky and he figures that's technically what he asked for, so, guess that happens sometimes!
i've also got notes on the lies that he has planned for his disguise. he picked an isolated town he visited once as his fake home town and has a story about his fake family and why he might not know things that he perhaps should etc.
i think... that's it for now... i'm sure i'll have more to talk about another time. i like this character a lot so i think about him a lot!!
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anyways here's what the second half of Artificial Condition would have been if Martha Wells didn't decide to shove Rami, the first and only nonbinary human in this series, immediately off-screen.
You can literally just start re-reading Artificial Condition and then at the end of chapter six just start reading this.
I Ctrl+F switched Tapan with Rami and vice versa, and had to manually change Rami's pronouns. So let me know if I missed any. I only got like three hours of sleep last night so I might have missed some. if you see any spots I forgot to change, them, you can reply, reblog, @ me, whatever, idk I'm sleepy.
I also changed the italicized feed chat to having ::Quotation marks like this:: so it's more clear that it's dialogue rather than narration.
Aside from that, all of this is just transcribed straight from the book as exactly as possible.
Do not read this if you haven't read book 2 of The Murderbot Diaries, lol, it's literally the ending chapters of the book.
now that the hard part is done I'll make a post that's literally just a compilation of the scenes Rami actually gets in the actual book.
anyways.
here's what Artificial Condition would have looked like if Martha Wells didn't decide to be a coward. And yes. I am saying it. Introducing Rami who uses neopronouns and is the only nonbinary human in this series and then immediately shoving ter off screen is the coward's way out. She didn't even pick difficult neopronouns to get a grasp on. There's no excuse.
Give her credit when credit is due, and no sooner.
Below the cut it's 8.8k words.
Archived read-more
(seriously stop reading this if you haven't read this book yet. We are skipping all the way to chapter seven. Go read the book and come back)
Chapter Seven
I located the problem in the lobby of the main hotel.
Rami was on one of the upper platforms, seated on a round cushioned bench, ter pack at ter feet, partially screened by another holographic sculpture of a giant crystal formation. Te looked up at me and said, “Oh, hi. I didn’t know if the others would be able to reach you.”
Without me present in the shuttle, ART hadn’t had any visual access to the passenger compartment. (As a private vehicle that was only being used as a public transport in a sketchy if not openly illegal way, it had no onboard security system or cameras.) ART hadn’t known Rami wasn’t onboard until the shuttle reached the transit ring. Taking its responsibility seriously, it had sent a drone over to the embarkation area to watch my clients disembark and had seen an obviously distraught and angry Tapan and Maro, but no Rami. Then it had checked Eden’s profile on the social media feed and found the message from Tapan. (Rami had told them te was sick and was going to the shuttle’s restroom compartment. They hadn’t realized what had happened until the shuttle had cleared the port.)
I said, “They left me a message.” I had intended to just stand there and stare at ter, which is what SecUnits do to clients who have just performed an act of stupidity so profound it approaches suicide which they ordered us not to stop them from doing. But te looked like te knew te had been stupid, and I had to know. “What happened?”
Te looked up at me, clearly anticipating a negative reaction. “I got a note in my feed, through the social profile I had when we were working here. Someone working for Tlacey—a friend—said he had copies of the files and he’d give them to us.” Te forwarded the message to my feed.
I checked it carefully. The meeting time was set for the next cycle.
I felt this would be the point where a human would sigh, so I sighed.
Rami said, “I know it could be a trap, but, maybe it isn’t? I know him, he’s not the greatest guy, but he hates Tlacey.” Te hesitated. “Will you help me? Please? I’ll understand if you say no. I know I’ve been … I know this could be a really bad idea.”
I had forgotten that I had a choice, that I wasn’t obligated to do what te wanted just because te was here. Being asked to stay, with a please and an option for refusal, hit me almost as hard as a human asking for my opinion and actually listening to me. I sighed again. I was having a lot of opportunities to do it and I think I was getting good at it. “I’ll help you. Right now we need to find a place to get out of sight.”
* * *
Rami had a hard currency card from the transit ring, which wasn’t tied to any RaviHyral account and so was not traceable. At least, that’s what te thought and I hoped te was right. I had never been given any education modules on financial systems and since our modules were crap anyway, I’m not sure that would have helped. ART ran a search for me and the results were mixed. Hard currency cards could be traced, but usually only by non-corporate political or corporate entities. I decided it was probably all right to use it. If the message wasn’t a trap, Tlacey must think my clients were back on the transit ring by now. If it was a trap, they would know they could grab us when we walked into the meeting so there was no point in looking for us earlier.
Rami used the card to pay for a transient room in the block next to the port. While te ran the card through the vending kiosk and got our room assignment, I stood behind ter and surveyed the area. The transient rooms were in a narrow warren of corridors, as unlike the main hotel as a real cargo transport was unlike ART. There was no SecSystem to get control of and only one camera at the entrance. I deleted us out of its memory, but I still felt like we—or I—might have been observed at some point. It might just be inherent rogue-SecUnit-on-the-run paranoia.
Rami led the way to our room. There were other humans hanging around the dimly lit corridors and some looked like they might try to approach ter, then saw me and changed their minds. I was bigger than they were, and without cameras it was still hard to control my expression.
ART said, ::Tell the human not to touch any surfaces. There may be disease vectors present.::
On the way here I had shared the recording of what I had found at Ganaka Pit. ART said, ::This is good news. You were not at fault.:: I agreed, sort of. I had been expecting to feel better about it. I mostly just felt awful.
Once inside the room with the door secured, I saw Rami’s shoulders relax and te took a deep breath. The room was just a square box with pads stored in a cabinet for sitting or sleeping, and a small display surface. No cameras, no audio surveillance. There was a tiny attached bath, with a waste-reclaimer and a shower. At least it had a door. I was going to have to pretend to use it at least twice. Yes, that would be the cap on all the fun I was having today. I created a schedule and set an alarm to remind myself to do it.
Rami dropped ter bag on the floor and faced me. “I know you’re mad.”
I tried to moderate my expression. “I’m not mad.” I was furious. I thought my clients were safe, I was free to worry about my own problems, and now I had a tiny human to look after that I couldn’t possibly abandon.
Te nodded and pushed ter braids back. “I know—I mean—I’m sure Tapan and Maro were furious. But it’s not like I’m not afraid, so that’s good.”
In my feed, ART said, ::What?::
::I have no idea,:: I told it. I said to Rami, “How is that good?”
Te explained, “In the creche, our moms always said that fear was an artificial condition. It’s imposed from the outside. So it’s possible to fight it. You should do the things you’re afraid of.”
If a bot with a brain the size of a transport could roll its eyes, that was what ART was doing. I said, “That isn’t the purpose of fear.” They didn’t give us an education module on human evolution, but I had looked it up in the HubSystem knowledge bases I’d had access to, in an effort to figure out what the hell was going on with humans. It hadn’t helped.
Te said, “I know, it’s supposed to be inspirational.” Te looked around and went to the cabinet with the seating pads. Te pulled them out, sniffed them suspiciously, then took an aerosol capsule out of a pocket on ter pack and sprayed them down. “I forgot to ask, did you get a chance to do the research you wanted to do here?”
“Yes. It was … inconclusive.” It had been damningly conclusive, it just hadn’t had the revelatory effect I had been, stupidly, hoping for. I helped her pull the rest of the pads out.
We got them arranged on the floor and sat down. Te looked at me and bit ter lip. “You’re really augmented, aren’t you. Like, a lot. Like more than someone would choose voluntarily.”
It wasn’t a question. I said, “Um, yes.”
Te nodded. “Was it an accident?”
I realized I had my arms wrapped around myself and was leaning over like I was trying to go into a fetal position. I don’t know why this was so stressful. Rami wasn’t afraid of me. I had no reason to be afraid of ter. Maybe it was being here again, seeing Ganaka Pit again. Some part of my organic systems remembered what had happened there. In the feed, ART started to play the soundtrack to Sanctuary Moon and weirdly, that helped. I said, “I got caught in an explosion. There’s not much of me that’s human, actually.”
Both those statements are true.
Te stirred a little, as if debating what to say, then nodded again. “I’m sorry I got you into this. I know you know what you’re doing, but … I have to try, I have to see if this guy really has our files. Just this once, and then I’ll go back to the transit ring.”
In my feed, ART turned down the soundtrack to say, ::Young humans can be impulsive. The trick is keeping them around long enough to become old humans. This is what my crew tells me and my own observations seem to confirm it.::
I couldn’t argue with the wisdom dispensed by ART’s absent crew. I remembered humans had needs and asked Rami, “Did you eat?”
Te had bought some meal packs with the hard currency card and had them stuffed in her bag. Te offered me one and I told her my augments required me to have a special diet and it wasn’t time for me to eat yet. Te accepted that readily. Humans apparently don’t like to discuss catastrophic injuries to digestive systems, so I didn’t need any of the corroborating detail ART had just researched for me. I asked ter if te liked media and te said yes, so I sent some files to the display surface in the room, and we watched the first three episodes of Worldhoppers. ART was pleased, and I could feel it sitting in my feed, comparing Rami’s reactions to the show to mine.
When Rami said te wanted to try to sleep, I shut down the display. Te curled up on ter pad and I lay down on mine and continued watching in the feed with ART.
Two hours and forty-three minutes later, I caught a ping from right outside the door.
I sat up so abruptly, Rami woke with a start. I motioned for ter to be quiet, and te subsided back on the pad, curling around ter pack, looking worried. I stood and went to the door, listening. I couldn’t hear any breathing, but there was a change in the background noise that told me there was something solid on the other side of the metal door. Cautiously, I did a limited scan.
Yes, there was something out there, but no sign of weapons. I checked the ping and saw it had the same signature as the ping I had caught in the public area during the meeting with Tlacey.
The sexbot was standing on the other side of the door.
It couldn’t have been following me all this time. It could have been watching for me on the security cameras, tracking me sporadically through the port when I came back within range. That was not a comforting thought.
It had to belong to Tlacey. If it had been watching me, it would have missed Rami’s unexpected exit from the private shuttle but would have seen ter again when we met up at the main hotel or on the way here. Damn it.
But now I knew that. If it hadn’t pinged me, I wouldn’t have realized it was in play. ::Why is it here?:: I asked ART.
::I assume that’s a rhetorical question,:: it said.
There was only one way to find out. I acknowledged the ping.
The moment stretched. Then it reached out to my feed. It was cautious, the connection almost tentative. It said, ::I know what you are. Who sent you?::
I replied, ::I’m on contract to a private individual. Why are you communicating with me?::
SecUnits on the same contract don’t talk, either verbally or on the feed, unless they absolutely have to in order to perform their duties. Communicating with units on different contracts has to be done through the controlling HubSystems. And SecUnits don’t interact with ComfortUnits anyway. Could this be a rogue sexbot? If it was rogue, why was it here on RaviHyral? I didn’t know why anybody would stay here voluntarily, including the humans. No, it made more sense if Tlacey owned its contract, and had sent it here to kill Rami.
If it tried to attack my client, I would tear it apart.
Rami, sitting on the pad and watching me worriedly, mouthed the words, “What is it?”
I opened a secure channel to ter and said, ::Someone is outside the door. I’m not sure why.::
That was mostly true. I didn’t want to tell Rami what it was, since that seemed to lead directly to me telling ter what I was, which I didn’t want to do. Though if I had to destroy it in front of ter, I was going to have a lot of explaining to do.
The sexbot replied, ::This is you,:: and sent me a copy of a public newsburst.
It was from the station, from Port FreeCommerce. This time the headline was “Authorities Admit a SecUnit Unsecured and Location Unknown.”
::Uh-oh,:: ART said.
I closed the story by reflex, like that would make it not exist. After three seconds of shock, I made myself open it again.
“Unsecured” is what they call rogue SecUnits when they want humans to listen and not just start screaming. It meant that the knowledge that I had hacked my governor module was no longer confined to me and the members of PreservationAux. They must have been at the stage where everyone in the two survey groups who had survived was being interviewed, and they would have had to guarantee bonds to assert they were telling the truth.
So the company knew now that I had hacked my governor module. That was terrifying, even though I had expected it. It was one of the reasons Mensah had made sure to get me off inventory and out of the deployment center as soon as I came out of repair and reconstruction mode.
Expecting it and having it happen were two different things, something I learned the first time I got shot to pieces.
I skimmed the story in dread and then read it again, closely. The solicitors for several sides in the ongoing legal and civil battles had asked Preservation to produce the SecUnit who had recorded all the damning evidence against GrayCris. This was unusual. It’s not like SecUnits can testify in courts. Our recordings are admissible, just like recordings from a drone or security camera or any other inert device, but it’s not like we’re supposed to have opinions or a perspective on what we record.
After some back and forth, Mensah’s solicitor had admitted that she had lost track of me. They phrased it as “released on my own recognizance, as constructs are considered legal sentients under Preservation law,” but the journalists hadn’t been fooled by that, either. There were a lot of sidebar links to attached articles about constructs, about SecUnits, about rogue SecUnits. There was no mention that this particular unit had had a little problem with murdering the clients supposedly under its protection before, but I had the feeling the company had probably already destroyed any records relating to Ganaka Pit so they couldn’t be produced under court injunction.
Rami whispered, “Are you talking to them, the person?”
“Yes,” I told ter. To the sexbot, I said, ::That’s an interesting story but it has nothing to do with me.::
It said, ::It’s you. Who sent you?::
I said, ::That’s a story about a dangerous rogue SecUnit. No one would send it anywhere.::
::I’m not asking because I want to report you. I won’t tell anyone. I’m asking—There’s no human controlling you? You’re free?::
I could feel ART in my feed, carefully extending itself out toward the sexbot.
::I have a client,:: I told it. I had to distract it, if ART was going to be able to get any info. Even though it was a sexbot, it was still a construct, still a whole different proposition from a pilot bot. ::Who sent you here? Was it Tlacey?::
::Yes. She is my client.::
As a ComfortUnit, not a SecUnit. Sending a ComfortUnit into this situation was morally irresponsible and a clear violation of contract. I’m guessing the sexbot knew that.
ART said, ::It’s not rogue. Its governor module is engaged. So it’s probably telling the truth.::
I asked ART, ::Can you hack it from here?::
There was a half-second pause while ART explored the idea. ART answered, ::No, I can’t secure the connection here. It could stop me by cutting off its feed.:
I told the sexbot, ::Your client wants to kill my client.::
It didn’t reply.
I said, ::You told Tlacey about me.:: It must have recognized what I was during that first meeting. If it hadn’t been sure, seeing the damage I had done to the three humans Tlacey had sent would have been all the confirmation it needed. I was seething, but I kept it out of the feed. As I told ART, bots and constructs can’t trust each other, so I don’t know why it made me angry. I wish being a construct made me less irrational than the average human but you may have noticed this is not the case. I said, ::Your client sent a ComfortUnit to do a SecUnit’s job.::
It countered, ::She didn’t know she needed a SecUnit until today.:: It added, ::I told her you were a SecUnit, I didn’t tell her you were a rogue.::
I wondered if I could believe that. And I wondered if it had tried to explain to Tlacey the impossibility of this assignment. ::What do you propose to do?::
There was a pause. A long one, five seconds. ::We could kill them.::
Well, that was an unusual approach to its dilemma. ::Kill who? Tlacey?::
::All of them. The humans here.::
I leaned against the wall. If I had been human, I would have rolled my eyes. Though if I had been human, I might have been stupid enough to think it was a good idea.
I also wondered if it knew a lot more about me than what little was in the newsburst.
Picking up on my reaction, ART said, ::What does it want?::
::To kill all the humans,:: I answered.
I could feel ART metaphorically clutch its function. If there were no humans, there would be no crew to protect and no reason to do research and fill its databases. It said, ::That is irrational.::
::I know,:: I said, if the humans were dead, who would make the media? It was so outrageous, it sounded like something a human would say.
Huh.
I said to the sexbot, ::Is that how Tlacey thinks constructs talk to each other?::
There was another pause, only two seconds this time. ::Yes.:: Then, ::Tlacey believes you stayed behind to steal the files for the tech group. What did you do for so long in the feed blackout area?::
::I was hiding.:: I know, not my best lie. ::Does Tlacey know you want to kill her?:: Because the “kill all humans” thing might have come from Tlacey, but the intensity under it was real, and I didn’t think it was directed at all humans.
::She knows,:: it said. Then, ::I didn’t tell her about your client, she thinks they all left on the shuttle. She only wanted me to follow you.::
A code bundle came through the feed. You can’t infect a construct with malware like that, not without sending it through a Sec or HubSystem. Even then I would have to apply it, and without direct orders and a working governor module, there’s no way to force me to do it. The only way that code can be applied without my assistance is through a combat override module via my dataport.
It might be killware, but I was not a simple pilot bot, and it would mostly just annoy the hell out of me. Maybe to the point where I tore a door off the wall and ripped the head off a ComfortUnit.
I could just delete the bundle, but I wanted to know what it was so I knew how furious to get. It was small enough for a human’s interface to handle, so I shunted it aside to Rami. I said aloud, “I need you to isolate that for me. Don’t open it yet.”
Te signaled assent through the feed and pulled the bundle into ter temp storage. The other thing about killware and malware is that they can’t do anything to humans or augmented humans.
The sexbot hadn’t said anything else and I sent a ping in time to feel it withdraw its feed. It was walking away down the corridor.
I waited until I was sure, then stepped back from the door. I debated staying here, or moving Rami. Now that I knew something was hacking the security cameras to watch me, I could use countermeasures. I probably should have been doing that from the beginning, but you may have noticed that for a terrifying murderbot I fuck up a lot.
“It’s gone,” I told Rami. “Can you check out that code bundle for me?”
Te got that inward look that humans have when they’re deep in their feed. After a minute, te said, “It’s malware. Pretty standard … Maybe they thought it would get your augments, but that’s kind of amateurish for Tlacey. Hold it. There’s a message string in here, attached to the code.”
ART and I waited. Rami’s face did something complicated, settling on worry. “This is weird.” Te turned to the display surface and made the completely unnecessary gesture that some humans can’t help doing when they send something from their feed to display.
It was the message string, three words. ::Please help me.::
* * *
I moved us to a different room, near an emergency exit, in another section of the hostel. The sexbot might be alert for hacking, so I removed the access plate, manually broke the lock, and replaced the plate again while Rami watched the corridor. Once we were inside, I told Rami some of what the sexbot had said, mostly the part about how it claimed Tlacey didn’t know Rami was here. (I didn’t tell ter our visitor had been a sexbot because Tlacey had figured out what I was and didn’t want to waste any more human bodyguards on me.) “But we don’t know that that’s true, or that this operative won’t tell Tlacey you’re here now.”
Rami looked confused. “But why did they tell you anything?”
That was a good question. “I don’t know. They don’t like Tlacey, but that might not be the only reason.”
Rami bit ter lip, considering. “I think I should still try to keep the meeting. It’s only four hours from now.”
I’m used to humans wanting to do things that can get them killed. Maybe too used to it. I knew we should leave now. But I needed time to hack enough of the security system to get past the sexbot. Once I did that, it seemed wrong not to wait the short time to make the meeting, which Rami was reasonably sure Tlacey didn’t know about. Reasonably sure.
It was probably a trap.
I needed to think. I told Rami I was going to sleep for a while and laid down on my side on my section of padding. My recharge cycle isn’t obvious but it doesn’t look like a human sleeping, so what I was actually going to do was play some media in the background of my feed while I worked on my security countermeasures and looked up my old module on risk assessment.
Thirty-two minutes later, I heard movement. I thought Rami was getting up to go to the restroom facility, but then te settled on the pads behind me, not quite touching my back. I had set my breathing to sound deep and even, like a human sleeping, with occasional random variations to add verisimilitude, so the fact that I had frozen in place wasn’t obvious.
I had never had a human touch me, or almost touch me, like this before and it was deeply, deeply weird.
::Calm down,:: ART said, not helpfully.
I was too frozen to respond. After three seconds, ART added, ::Te’s frightened. You are a reassuring presence.::
I was still too frozen to answer ART, but I upped my body heat. Over the next two hours, te yawned twice, breathed deeply, and snorted occasionally. At the end of that time I changed my breathing and moved a little, and te immediately slid off my pad and over to ters.
By that time, I had a plan, sort of.
* * *
I convinced Rami that I should go to the meeting, and te should get on a public shuttle to the transit ring immediately. Te was reluctant. “I don’t want to abandon you,” te said. “You’re only involved in this because of us.”
That hit home so hard my insides clenched. I had to lean over and pretend to look through my bag to hide my expression. Company emergency protocol allows clients to abandon their SecUnits if necessary, even in situations where the company might never be able to retrieve them. Rami was making me think of Mensah, yelling that she wouldn’t leave me. I said, “It’ll help me the most if you go back to the transit ring.”
It took a while, but I finally convinced ter this was for the best for both of us.
Rami left the hostel first, wearing both extra jackets from ter pack to change ter body shape and with the hood of one pulled up to conceal ter hair and shadow ter face. (This was mostly to make ter feel more confident, and because I didn’t want to explain the extent to which I could gain temporary control over portions of RaviHyral’s admittedly not-great security system.) I watched ter on the security cameras until I saw ter reach the public dock about one hundred meters away, go down the walkway to the embarkation area, then board the shuttle that was scheduled to leave in twenty-one minutes. ART sent me an acknowledgment as it slid into the shuttle’s controls to guard the bot pilot again. Then I left the hostel.
I’d prepared a hack for the security cameras that was much more sophisticated than the one I’d been using up to this point. It involved getting into the operational code and setting the system on a tenth of a second delay, then deleting Rami out and randomly replacing that part of the recording with pieces cut from earlier. This would work because the sexbot would be scanning the recordings the same way I would, using a body configuration scan. I didn’t match SecUnit standard anymore, but the sexbot had had plenty of time to scan my new configuration during that first meeting with Tlacey.
Right now I wanted the sexbot’s attention on me, and not the public dock. I let the cameras track me out of the port and back toward the tube access. Then I started the hack.
I was only 97 percent certain this meeting was a trap.
Chapter Eight
When I reached the small food service counter in the contractor district, a human was there who matched the image Rami had sent to my feed. As I sat down at the table he looked up at me, his expression nervous, sweat beading on his pale forehead. I said, “Rami couldn’t come,” and sent his feed the brief recording Rami had made with ter interface. It was ter standing next to me in the room at the hostel, holding my arm and explaining that the files could be given to me. Wow, I looked uncomfortable.
His gaze went inward as he reviewed the recording, then his body relaxed a little. He slid a memory clip over to me. I took it and checked the cameras.
Nothing. No potential threats, no one showing interest in us. The counter served drinks with a lot of bubbles in them and fried protein in the shape of water fauna and flora. Everyone else was busy eating or talking. There was no one suspicious in the corridor or mall area outside, no one watching, no one waiting.
This was not a trap.
The human said uncertainly, “Should we order something? To make it look like we’re not—you know?”
I told him, “No one’s watching, you can leave,” and pushed to my feet. I had to get back to the port.
If this wasn’t a trap, the real trap was somewhere else.
* * *
On the way back to the dock, I checked the schedule. The shuttle was now listed as delayed.
As I reached the embarkation area, I was reviewing the security recording from the time Rami had boarded the shuttle. On visual, I spotted the sexbot coming toward me from the far end of the walkway.
I had gotten to the point in the recording where two humans with Port Authority identification had stopped the shuttle’s departure and removed Rami. ART slid out of the shuttle and back into my feed. It said, ::If I had my armed drones, this would be easier.::
When the sexbot reached me, I said, “Where is te?”
“In Tlacey’s private shuttle. I’ll show you.”
I followed it along the walkway, then down the ramp that split off toward the private shuttle docks. ART said, ::Why is it showing you where your human is?::
I said, ::Because Tlacey doesn’t want Rami, she wants me.::
ART was quiet as we went past the private shuttle slots toward the bigger, more expensive section at the end. Then it said, ::Retrieve your human and make Tlacey regret this.::
We stopped in front of the access to a shuttle hatch. No one was outside, and most of the activity was down toward the other end of the docks. The sexbot turned to face me.
It opened its hand, and I recognized the small object. It was a combat override module. It said, “They won’t allow you aboard unless you let me install this.”
In my feed, ART said, ::Ah.::
They wanted us in the shuttle so that they could dispose of the bodies. Or Rami’s body. Me they obviously intended to keep.
A combat override module contains code that will take over my system, overriding the governor module and the company factory-set protocols, and placing me under the direct verbal or comm control of whoever the module designates. This was how GrayCris took over DeltFall’s SecUnits, and tried to take over me.
I said, “If I accept that, will they release my client?”
In the feed the sexbot whispered, ::You know they won’t.:: Aloud, it said, “Yes.”
I turned and let it insert the module into my data port. (The data port that ART had disconnected when it altered my configuration. With my governor module hacked, it had been the only way left to assert control over me, so disabling it had been a priority.)
The module clicked into place and I had a moment of purely irrational fear. ART must have picked up on it because it said, ::Please, my MedSystem makes no mistakes.:: Nothing happened, and from the security camera I had control of, I saw that I managed to keep the relief out of my expression.
The sexbot’s expression was Unit standard neutral, and I followed it into the shuttle. A human stood just inside the lock, armed, his eyes flicking nervously between me and the sexbot. He said, “Is it under control?”
“Yes,” the sexbot said.
He stepped back and his jaw moved as he spoke in his feed. I couldn’t hack anything without the sexbot knowing, so I waited. I kept my expression blank. I had no way of knowing what the combat override module was supposed to make me do, but I was assuming it would put me under Tlacey’s control. I suspected the humans, and the sexbot, weren’t sure what the outward effect would be.
Once we were through the lock, it cycled shut and a launch warning went through the feed, ending in an audible beep from the comm system. Tlacey must have bribed someone for immediate clearance, because there was a clunk as the lock disengaged and then the shuttle slid out of its slot.
::I have you on my scan,:: ART said.
The human led the way through the shuttle. It was a large model, and the access corridor went past hatchways to cabins and the engineering section before ending in a big compartment. There was cushioned bench seating against the walls and acceleration chairs to the front, near the hatch that must lead to the forward part of the ship. There were six unknown humans in the room, four armed and two unarmed crew. One of the armed humans held Rami by the shoulder and had a projectile weapon pressed to ter head.
Tlacey stood up from a chair and looked me over with a smile. She said, “Take little Rami to a cabin. I’ll want to talk to ter later about ter work.”
Rami’s eyes were wide and frightened. I kept my expression blank. She tried to say, “Eden, I’m sorry! I’m sorry—” but the guard pulled her through another hatchway and down a corridor. I didn’t react, since I wanted ter out of the line of fire. I listened for the hatch to close, then focused on Tlacey.
She strolled toward me, thoughtful now. I guess the triumphant smile had been for Rami’s benefit. The two other unarmed humans were watching with nervous curiosity, the armed guards still looked cautious. To the sexbot, Tlacey said, “You really think this is one of the units from the Ganaka Pit accident?”
The sexbot started to reply, and I said, “But we all know that wasn’t an accident, don’t we.”
Now I had everybody’s attention.
I kept my gaze straight ahead, a good SecUnit still under the control of the combat override module. Tlacey stared at me, then her eyes narrowed. “Who am I talking to?”
That was almost funny. “You think I’m a puppet? You know that’s not the way we work.”
Tlacey was beginning to be afraid. “Who sent you?”
I lowered my head to meet her gaze. “I came for my client.”
Tlacey’s jaw moved as she gave a command in the feed, and the sexbot started to shift sideways into a combat position.
ART said, ::The shuttle is clear of the port and moving into an orbit around the moon. Do you have a moment to let me in?::
I said, ::Be fast,:: and let ART in. I had the sensation again, my head shoved underwater, being temporarily incapacitated as ART used me as a bridge to reach the bot controlling the shuttle.
It was quick, but the sexbot had time to punch me in the jaw. Tlacey must have ordered that; it wasn’t the way a unit would attack another unit. It hurt, but only in the way that would piss me off. When I didn’t react immediately, Tlacey relaxed and grinned. “I like a mouthy bot. This is going to be interesting—”
ART was in the shuttle’s systems and I was clear. I caught the sexbot’s arm and flung it across the room toward the three armed guards. One went down, one stumbled into a chair, the third started to lift his weapon. I knocked Tlacey out of my way and stepped on the sexbot as I went over it, thumping it back down to the deck. I grabbed the muzzle of the energy weapon and shoved it upright just as he fired. The discharge struck the curved ceiling. I ripped it out of his grasp, dislocating his shoulder and at least three fingers, and slammed his head down on the console.
The guard who had already fallen to the deck had a projectile weapon and I felt two impacts, one to my side and one to my thigh. Now that’s the kind of attack that actually hurts. I extended my right arm and fired my inbuilt energy weapon, catching him with two bolts in the chest. I stepped sideways to avoid an energy weapon blast from the guard who had fallen into the chair, and my third shot hit him in the shoulder. I had the blasts set to narrow, and they created deep burn wounds that usually incapacitated humans rapidly with shock and pain and, you know, having holes burned into their chest cavities.
I pivoted and threw the captured gun as a distraction. The first unarmed human was on the deck, a smoking wound in her back; the guard who had missed me had shot her. The second flung herself across the compartment to try to grab a fallen projectile weapon, so I shot her in the shoulder and the leg.
The sexbot rolled to its feet and charged me, I caught it, went down on my back, and flung it off and over my head. I twisted around and up to my knees but couldn’t get all the way up due to the wound in my right thigh. The sexbot shoved upright and I grabbed its leg and popped the knee out of the socket. It went down and I took out its left shoulder joint. Slamming it down to the deck, I turned to see Tlacey reaching for one of the fallen weapons. I said, “Touch that weapon and I’ll take it away from you and insert it into your rib cage.”
She froze. She was panting from fear, eyes staring. I said, “Tell your sexbot to stop fighting.”
It was still struggling to get up and it was just going to hurt itself further. Especially if it made me mad again.
Tlacey straightened slowly, her jaw working, and the sexbot relaxed. I said, ::ART, cut off Tlacey’s feed.::
::Done,:: ART said.
Tlacey winced as her feed went down. I told Tlacey, “Give the sexbot a verbal command to obey me until further notice. Try to give it any other command and I’ll rip your tongue out.”
Tlacey huffed out a breath, then said, “Unit, obey the crazy rogue SecUnit until further notice.” To me, she said, “You need to get better threats.”
I put a hand on the nearest chair seat and shoved myself to my feet. “I don’t make threats, I’m just telling you what I’m going to do.”
Her jaw hardened. Two of the humans in the room had stopped breathing, the unarmed one that the guard had shot while aiming for me and the first one I had shot. Tlacey hadn’t noticed.
I looked down at the sexbot, which looked up at me. “Stay down,” I said.
It sent me an acknowledgment. I stepped over it, grabbed Tlacey’s arm, and dragged her down the corridor to the cabin where her guard had taken Rami.
She said quickly, “So you’re a free agent, right? I can give you a job. Whatever you want—”
I thought, You don’t have anything I want. I said, “All you had to do was give them the fucking files and none of us would be in this situation.”
The look she threw back at me was startled, incredulous. I didn’t sound like her idea of a SecUnit, rogue or otherwise, I guess.
Humans should really do more research. There were operating manuals that would have warned her not to fuck with us.
Tlacey stopped at a closed hatch, said, “Bassom, it’s me,” and hit the release. The door slid up.
Rami was half sprawled across the bunk on the far wall, blood spreading across the flower pattern on ter T-shirt, drops of it splashed on the light brown skin of the bare arm pressed against the wound in ter side. Ter raspy breath sounded loud in the small cabin. The bodyguard stared at us, eyes wide.
“He panicked when he heard the shots,” Tlacey gasped. “You can’t—”
Oh yeah, I could.
I swung Tlacey to shield me as the bodyguard brought up his weapon. Multiple shots hit her back but I’d already crushed her windpipe. I took another projectile in the chest as I crossed the cabin, threw him against the wall, jammed my arm up under his chin, and triggered my energy weapon.
I stepped back and let his body drop.
I turned away from it and leaned over Rami. I said, stupidly, “It’s me.” Ter eyes were shut and te was breathing through gritted teeth. I clamped my hand over the wound to stop the bleeding and said, ::ART, help.::
ART said, ::I’ve been guiding the shuttle toward the transit ring, where I can dock it with myself. ETA is seventeen minutes. MedSystem is prepping for your arrival.::
I sank down beside Rami. Te was just conscious enough to reach over and squeeze my hand. I pulled the useless combat override module out of the back of my neck and tossed it away.
I had made a huge mistake, which seemed blindingly obvious in hindsight. I had known the invitation to exchange the signing bonus for the files was a trap from the beginning and I should have convinced Rami and the others not to return to RaviHyral. The augmented human security consultant I was pretending to be would have done that. I was used to taking orders from humans and trying to mitigate whatever damage their stupid ideas did to them, but I had wanted to work with a group again, I had enjoyed how they had listened to me, I had put my need to get to RaviHyral above the safety of my clients.
I was just as shit at being a security consultant as any human.
Chapter Nine
By the time we were on approach to the transit ring, ART had cleared us with the ring’s Port Authority. Shuttles weren’t supposed to be able to dock with transports without advance notice, but ART took care of approach permission, and forged its captain’s feed signature to pay the fine for not giving prior notice of the scheduled trip. They didn’t suspect anything; nobody knew transports could have bots sophisticated enough to fake being human in the feed. I sure hadn’t known it.
The locks weren’t compatible but ART solved that problem by pulling the shuttle into an empty module meant for lab space. It sat us down, filled the module with atmosphere, and then cycled our lock. I got upright and carried Rami out and up the access into the main section. ComfortUnit followed me.
The MedSystem was ready by the time I walked in and laid Rami down on the platform. Drones whizzed around me and I picked up the MedSystem feed’s instruction to remove ter shoes and clothes. As the cradle closed around ter, I sank down beside the platform.
Te was out now, the MedSystem keeping ter under while it finished its assessment and started to work. Two medical drones flew around me, one diving in toward my shoulder and the other poking at the wound in my thigh. I ignored them.
A larger drone flew in, carrying Rami’s bag, ter blood-stained jacket, and my knapsack. ART flashed me a view of the other drones still inside the shuttle. Four of the humans in the shuttle were still alive, though unconscious. ART had sent drones to scrub and sterilize away my fluids and Rami’s blood from the shuttle’s interior. ART had already wiped the bot pilot’s memory and deleted any security data. It was also chatting casually with transit ring launch authority with a forged feed signature from one of the dead humans.
I watched as the drones finished and retreated, then ART sealed the shuttle again and launched it with a filed flight plan back to RaviHyral. The onboard bot pilot would land it, full of terribly injured humans, and no one would know they hadn’t done it to each other until they were all conscious and told their stories. Though maybe some wouldn’t want to tell the story of how they had helped kidnap another human. Whatever happened, it would give us all time to get out of here.
I asked ART, ::How did you know to do that?:: though I already knew the answer.
It knew I knew, but it said, ::Episode 179 of The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon.::
ComfortUnit knelt beside me. “Can I help?”
“No.” The medical drones were clamped onto me now, digging for the projectiles, and I was leaking onto ART’s pristine MedSystem floor. The anesthetic was making me numb. “How did you know I was one of the Ganaka Pit units?”
It said, “I saw you get off the tube access in that section. There’s nothing else down there. It’s not in the historical database anymore, but the humans still tell each other horror stories about it. If you were really a rogue and not under orders to go there, then there was an eighty-six percent chance that you went there because you were one of the units involved.”
I believed it. “Drop your wall.”
It did, and I rode the feed into its brain. I could feel ART with me, alert for traps. But I found the governor module, rendered it null, and slid back out into my own body again.
The ComfortUnit had fallen back, sitting down on the deck with a thump, staring at me.
I said, “Go away. Don’t let me see you again. Don’t hurt
anyone on this transit ring or I’ll find you.”
It shoved upright, unsteady. More of ART’s drones flicked through the air, making sure it didn’t try to damage anything, herding it toward the door. It followed the drones out into the corridor. Through ART’s feed I watched it go through to the main hatch, where the lock cycled and it went out into the transit ring.
ART watched it walk away through its lock camera. It said, ::I thought you might destroy it.::
Too tired and numb to talk, I signaled a negative through the feed. It hadn’t had a choice. And I hadn’t broken its governor module for its sake. I did it for the four ComfortUnits at Ganaka Pit who had no orders and no directive to act and had voluntarily walked into the meat grinder to try to save me and everyone else left alive in the installation.
ART said, ::Now get on the other platform. The shuttle will land soon and there is a great deal of evidence to destroy.::
* * *
When Rami woke, I was sitting on the MedSystem’s platform holding ter hand. The MedSystem had taken care of my wounds, and I’d cleaned off all the blood. The projectiles that had hit me and the energy bursts from my own weapons had left holes in my clothes, and ART had produced a new set for me from its recycler. It was basically ART’s crew uniform without the logos: pants with lots of sealable pockets, a long-sleeved shirt with a collar just high enough to cover my data port, and a soft hooded jacket, all of it either dark blue or black. I fed my bloody clothes into the recycler so the waste-reclamation levels would be neutral and ART wouldn’t have to forge its log.
Rami blinked up at me, confused. “Um,” te said, and squeezed my hand. The drugs made ter expression bleary. “What happened?”
I said, “They tried to kill us again. We had to leave. We’re back on the transit ring, on my friend’s ship.”
Ter eyes widened as te remembered. Te winced, and muttered, “Fuckers.”
“Your friend was telling the truth, he gave me your files.” I held up the memory clip, and showed ter I was putting it into the interface pocket in ter bag. I’d checked it already for malware or tracers. “This ship has to leave soon. I need you to call Tapan and Maro to come meet us outside the embarkation zone.”
“Okay.” Te fumbled at ter ear, and I handed ter the blue feed interface. One of ART’s drones had found it in Tlacey’s pocket. Te took it, started to put it back in ter ear, and hesitated. “They’re going to be so mad.”
“Yeah, they are.” I thought they would be so glad to have ter alive it wouldn’t occur to them to be angry.
Te winced again. “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Ter brow crinkled. “I kind of think it was.”
“It was my fault.”
“It’s both our faults then, but we won’t tell anybody,” Rami decided, and wiggled the interface into ter ear.
* * *
I did a quick walk-through of the areas of the ship I had used, to make sure nothing was out of place. ART’s drones had already come through, taking Rami’s bloody clothes to be cleaned and sterilizing surfaces so any attempt to collect trace evidence would fail. Not that ART intended to be here when the investigation started. We were all leaving immediately, but ART believed in contingency plans. I started to remove the comm interface ART had given me. “You need to clean this, too.”
::No,:: ART said. ::Keep it. Maybe we’ll come within range of each other again.::
The MedSystem had already sterilized itself and deleted the records of my configuration change and the emergency trauma treatments to both me and Rami. I was waiting for ter when te came out of the bath facility. Drones followed ter in to clean away any traces of ter presence, and te said, “I’m ready.” Te had stuffed ter old clothes into ter pack and was wearing fresh ones. Te still looked a little bleary.
We walked out together and the lock sealed behind us. I had the cameras in the embarkation zone and ART was already doctoring the security recordings on its lock to erase our presence.
We met Tapan, Maro, and the rest of their group at a food stand outside the embarkation zone. Tapan had messaged me that they had already bought passage on a passenger transport leaving within the hour. They greeted Rami enthusiastically, with tears and admonishments to each other not to squeeze ter too hard.
I’d told them already not to talk about it in public. Tapan turned and handed me a hard currency card. “Your friend Art said this was a good way to pay you.”
“Right.” I took it and tucked it in a sealable pocket.
They were all watching me now and it was a little nerve-racking. Tapan said, “So, you’re going?”
I had my eye on a cargo transport heading the right direction. With luck I should be leaving within minutes of their departure. “Yes, I should hurry.”
“Can we hug you?” Maro let go of Rami and faced me.
“Uh.” I didn’t step back, but it must have been obvious the answer was no.
Maro nodded. “Okay. This is for you.” She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed.
I said, “I’ve got to go,” and walked away down the mall.
Fading, already disengaging from its lock, ART said in my feed, ::Be careful. Find your crew.::
I tapped the feed in acknowledgment, because if I tried to say anything else I was going to sound stupid and emotional.
I didn’t know what I was going to do now, if I was going to go ahead with my plan or not. I had hoped finding out what had happened at Ganaka Pit would clear everything up, but maybe revelations like that only happened in the media.
Speaking of which, I needed to grab some more downloads before my next transport left. It was going to be a long trip.
#Rjalker reads The Murderbot Diaries#The Murderbot Diaries#neopronouns in action#te/ter/ters/terself
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JAMETH ABNALE
OVERVIEW:
Cunning, ruthless, and with a malicious streak a mile wide, JAMETH ABNALE is a pragmatic businessman and an even more pragmatic individual. After an incident when he was six sweeps old left him permanently using crutches to walk and with chronic pain, he doubled down on his original ambitions and achieved them in record time.
He has several interests: tech, engineering, literary analysis, fashion, and history. He also loves to dance, and will happily take any chance to bully or cajole people into dancing with him.
He treats emotional vulnerability and honesty with about the same enthusiasm he has for being ritually tortured.
Name: Jameth Abnale (somewhat named for Frank Abagnale Jr.)
Goes exclusively by his nickname, Jamie, and dislikes being called Jameth. Will only tolerate it if absolutely necessary.
Online Handles: sisypheanStarsight
Age: 11.6 sweeps (25 years old)
Gender: Man (he/him pronouns)
Height: 5’6
Weight: 120 pounds. Jamie is a skinny little guy, all sharp angles and bony joints.
Lusus: Laughing kookaburra. Jamie’s father still lives with him and his charge loves him very much, not that he’ll admit it to anyone else.
Psi: Lie detection. Jamie’s psychic ability allows him to see if someone is lying to him or not. However, he cannot discern exactly what they are hiding or why, only if they are purposefully telling a lie. To use his power he must hear the words clearly and understand the language.
His ability does not extend to text or voice recordings; he must hear the person speak himself.
Strife: His crutches have various weaponry built into them; he has a few different sets with offensive capabilities. If caught without them, he is decently skilled with a revolver.
Sylladex: Jamie thinks the idea of doing any gimmick for a sylladex is stupid, and his is perfectly ordinary aside from its high security encryptions.
Hive: His primary one is a fancy building in Civitrecce he bought some sweeps ago, but he still keeps his original smaller hive in the suburbs around as well.
Ancestor: Jamie’s ancestor was wiped from the records, with no reason given for why. Jamie hasn’t yet been able to discover anything about him aside from that he existed and lived in Civitrecce.
Constellation: Iota Apodis, a binary star system in the constellation Apus.
Other Notes: Jamie is nearsighted, and wears glasses almost constantly because his vision is very poor without them. He also has digestive issues with some foods, and cannot eat very much at a time.
He is dependent on medication to keep his chronic pain in check, though he also undergoes semi-regular physical therapy. While much of the nerve damage he once suffered has been reconstructed, he sometimes suffers numbness in several parts of his spine and high sensitivity in other parts of his back depending on his level of physical strain.
Interests:
Dancing - Jamie adores dancing of various styles, though he is best at swing and ballroom dancing. He loves to dance with others, though he tends to go about it fairly brusquely.
Reading - Jamie is a voracious reader and will loudly explain his strong opinions on whatever he enjoys to anyone who can’t escape the conversation.
Technology - A major tech enthusiast not only because of his job but for personal interest, he’s always interested in whatever new developments are being made in various fields.
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*°:⋆ₓₒCollab Masterlistₓₒ⋆:°*
Pairing: All Might x Gn!Dom!Reader (Theme for this month was sex work au!)
Word Count: 6.2k
Warnings: 18+ this is a dark fic, both dubcon/noncon, straight up, forced submission, bit of mind break, dom/sub dynamics, sub!All Might, dominant All Might later in, dark All Might, violence against reader, bodily harm, face fucking, spanking (for Toshi), thigh riding (for Toshi), blackmail, minor mentions of blood, bondage/rope play, reader is gender neutral, no pronouns used
Summary: You work as a popular dominant for pro heroes who need to give up control once in awhile and Yagi Toshinori is one of your best clients. But when word gets out to the media about your involvement with pros, you decide to take matters into your own hands. Though you quickly discover All Might does not take kindly to anyone who threatens his reputation.
It was all about the exchanging of power.
About the relinquishing of control—about letting go and the freedom that came with it.
And you?
You were just there to facilitate, to take over, to release all those bottled up years of stress that the camera’s weren’t supposed to see.
But you did.
You saw all of it.
It was about trust too. Trust in you to give them what they need and trust in them to do exactly as you instructed. And most of all, trust that everything stayed confidential. That the things said through tears and whimpers and sighs were kept quiet. Trust that they would show you the same respect and privacy you showed them.
You took these rules very seriously. They were the foundation your business was built on and it had earned you quite a lot of credibility. You prided yourself on it, as you should. Professionalism was key in your line of work. It made the clients feel a bit more comfortable—counteracted the sense of taboo that was usually associated with people like you.
People in “your line of work,” was the common way of referencing it. But you preferred to be clear and upfront, not skirt around the edges as though your job was something shameful.
Language was important too.
“Client,” “session,” etc...all added a buffering degree of separation for those you serviced. It was a crucial part of the balance which has allowed you to be so successful. They needed to be able to remove themselves from who they became once you were alone together. You’d learned that some amount of plausible deniability was key to achieving the complete relinquishing of authority. They had to be able to convince themselves after they’d walked away, that the crying, begging mess they’d become wasn’t who they really were—wasn’t actually a part of them, just something you’d done.
And by them, of course, you meant the heroes you served so dutifully.
And by serve, you meant completely and utterly dominate.
Contradictory to most common misconceptions, your job wasn’t always about sex—though it could be and was at time—but truly, it was about release.
And above all, it was about power and who got to hold it.
When that structure was broken—when the rules were strayed from—that’s when things got murky. But you were good at what you did, so luckily, that hadn’t been much of an issue.
What more could one expect from someone whose services are sought out by the Symbol of Peace himself?
Hm.
You really ought to get that put on your business cards.
***
It was late when he came to you, though that wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Occasional hero work coupled with a teaching schedule and numerous media appearances left one very little free time. Fortunately, you conducted most of your business during the small hours of the morning, so Yagi Toshinori showing up at your door as the clock ticked its way past two wasn’t a shock.
You fell into the usual rhythm of things easily.
Toshi was one of your newest, but most favorite clients. You came highly recommended from many of his coworkers, and after an initial meeting over drinks to discuss his needs, you struck up a routine that worked for the both of you.
Of course he paid you handsomely for your time.
Constantly being in the public eye, acting as an unwavering representation of hope for the future was tiring. You were more than happy to take the weight off his very broad shoulders for once.
And bend him over your knee instead.
“Five,” he panted, whimpers of thanks and your name spilling out around his loose tongue as your hand connected sharply with the meat of his ass again.
You always asked to be called by name, no frilly titles to get in the way and complicate the dynamic. When they walked into your space, they set aside their hero personas and you afforded them the same intimacy.
Names meant something. Names were power and so they mattered, particularly in this game you played together. Equality had to be achieved before domination.
“Good boy Toshi, you’re doing so well,” you cooed and brought your palm down twice, watching the skin on the backs of his thighs bloom pink like sakura in the spring.
“S-six, seven,” there was a wet spot forming under his mouth on the sheets and on your lap where his cock was bare and leaking. “Ah, please—harder!”
You raised your brow as he turned his head to look at you with those teary, dark eyes and you could never resist a look like that.
“You want it harder, why’s that?” you wound back and smacked roughly over the raised welts that made him hiss and sob. “Is this what you deserve for being so weak?”
He may have been thin now, skeletal compared to the face he showed the public, but you didn’t mind. He trusted you enough to let his guard down, and his weight was still thick and full across your legs. It was invigorating to see a man like All Might, reduced to this. Whatever pent up guilt he carried inside, you were here to help let it all out in the best way you knew how.
“Yes!” Toshi cried and buried his face into the plush fabric of your comforter as you delivered the last three harsh blows of the punishment he paid you for. “Fuck yes, I’m weak and I’m a failure and I deserve this—!”
“That’s right, you’re a piss poor excuse for a hero and you haven’t earned your title,” you wrapped two thick locks of his hair around your hand and yanked hard till he craned his neck to face you. “What would the world say if they could see what a sobbing mess you are when no one’s looking?”
He opened his mouth to speak, hips twitching and grinding uselessly against your thigh. The second that plush pink tongue dipped past his lips, you were rearing back to spit straight between his teeth.
Toshi’s face was always priceless in these moments. You’d almost be willing to do it for free if you only got to see the way his brows shot up and those red rimmed eyes blew so wide as you steeled yourself and looked him dead on.
“Now, swallow like the little bitch I know you are.”
And he did, of course he does, because behind your bedroom door Yagi Toshinori was your good boy. So you got to watch his throat bob as your spit slid down and he moaned so pretty at the awful things you said to him.
Your palm kneaded against the red, raw flesh of his ass and you watched how he squirmed at the sting. The room was filled with the scent of sweat and expensive cologne. Your head was spinning from the smell alone and the high of the control you wielded over this man. His hands fisted hard in your bed sheets and you let him helplessly rut against you a few times before running your free hand up the graceful curve of his spine.
“Oh, you really are so disgusting Toshi,” you mused as your nails dig into the planes of muscles to drag angry red lines over the skin. “Did you really get that hard from me slapping this tight little ass of yours?”
He groaned pathetically and nodded, not bothering to hide how his dick had been oozing obscene amounts of precum every time you etched a new welt on his skin. The blush that crept up his chest and painted his cheeks had spread between his legs too. The unfairly massive cock that Toshi sported was flushed a dark angry red at the tip and you couldn’t help but have mercy on him.
Well, only a little bit.
You weren’t here to be nice tonight, even if a part of you might have liked to be.
“Do you want to cum, Toshi?” you asked, lacing your voice with the false sweetness you knew he loved. “Have you been aching for it all night?”
He keened, crying your name and rutting his hips harder against you. It sent a rush of warmth between your legs despite your better efforts to remain unaffected. This wasn’t about you, this was about ownership and his pleasure.
“Mhmm,” his voice was little more than a rasp, “wanna cum so bad, please!”
You laughed, but it was a cruel thing and you knew he could feel the rumble of it in his scarred chest.
“You did so perfectly taking your punishment,” you raked your nails over the raised handprints again just to hear him cry out. “I suppose I’ll let you cum, but you’ll have to work for it.”
Toshi’s breathing was ragged as you helped him up to straddle one of your legs. His swollen cock rested on the plushest part of your thigh, the tip nudging your hip and drawing choked gasps from the man towering above you.
He stared down at you, confused when you didn’t move to stroke him.
“Go on, then,” you smiled up at him, resting your weight on your palms so you could lean back and watch the show. “I said you’d have to work for it, didn’t I?”
You punctuated your question with a bounce of your knee that rocked his length against the fabric of your pants. It didn’t take long for him to catch on, eyes squeezing shut against the waves of shame and embarrassment that just made it so much hotter as he slowly began to ride your thigh.
He might be paying you to be ruthless, but Toshi was kind to a fault from what you’ve learned of him and he ke[t most of his massive weight held on the balls of his feet so you weren’t crushed below him. Under any other circumstances, you might have actually enjoyed that quite a bit, but his face—cherry red with spit-slicked lips held parted with the force of his pants—was enough for now.
His cock was so heavy you almost couldn’t believe it was real. You nearly didn’t the first time he’d stripped for you, but even just the drag of it through your clothes was delectable. It was so long and thick you needed both hands to wrap fully around it, and he gushed like a fucking gieser when you got him under your metaphorical boot.
With every rock of his bony hips, his length was forced up against the curve of your stomach and he whined at the glistening strands of slick that connected his tip to you.
“Come on, Toshi,” you clicked your tongue disappointedly at him, letting a hand fall to the puckered skin at his waist, squeezing harshly. “I know you can do better than that.”
He was beyond words now, you could tell by the way his jaw was loose and his teeth clacked with every thrust, but he did gasp out a long, high pitched moan that made up for it. The speed of his humping increased, becoming erratic as he hunched on the bed, hands beside yours. He loomed over you but anyone could tell just by the composed, serene smile playing at your lips—and the absolutely wrecked noises spilling from Toshi—just which one of you was really in control.
“You’re so close, aren’t you?”
You knew he liked it when you spewed filth to him right before he boiled over and you were more than willing to oblige.
“You’re gonna cum like a fucking teenager humping his pillow, isn’t that right?” you snarled the words up at him and he really did cry then, big fat tears dripping down onto your shirt. “All Might, the number one hero is gonna cum all over my lap like the slut he is.”
He nods frantically. You know his balls were tensing up as he sobbed and spluttered—completely ruined. Just the way he needed to be.
“Then cum.”
You finally wrapped your fist just around his aching tip and he exploded into your palm. Rope after rope of sticky, white release coated your arm and dripped onto the bed. He kept grinding his hips, working himself through the climax, cock still pulsing and leaking in your grip. You didn’t mind the mess.
He always tipped a bit extra if he left stains anyway.
Such a gentleman.
When the last wave of his orgasm had petered out, Toshi collapsed to the side with his face buried in your pillow and his long legs still strewn across your lap. He didn’t usually ask for much in the realm of aftercare, preferring that you cleaned him and let him rest for a bit before he suited up and rushed off into the night.
You gave him a minute before you got up to wet a warm cloth in the sink. He looked so destroyed, you couldn’t help but admire your handiwork. As you palm his ass once more, fingers spreading him so his pink hole was on display, you slipped your phone silently from your pocket, and snapped a few shots of the nasty red hand marks and smears of cum as he groaned deeply at the touch.
His voice was lower as he grunted and you could tell he’s coming out of the subspace you’d thrust him into hours before. Quickly you slid the device smoothly away before lifting his legs from you and settling them gently on the bed to work on tidying up your mess.
You didn’t feel particularly good about keeping this kind of collateral, but as much power as you hold in the four walls of your bedroom, you were frustratingly weak once you left them. These men you worked with, while generally professional, were also top heroes. Top heroes who really didn’t want their embarrassing private lives getting out. Top heroes who thrived off reputation and who would willingly throw you under the bus in a second to protect that.
You liked Yagi Toshinori.
But you didn’t know him.
Smacking someone’s ass or stroking their cock every few weeks didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.
So you kept your personal insurance that would be there should one of your clientele decide to forsake you in favor of their public image. And you would never use it unless you absolutely had too.
After all, this was about trust and power and the exchange of those two things. Or at least it was supposed to be. Trust was quite a subjective thing.
The general citizenry trusted All Might to protect them against the growing evil in Japan’s underground. But behind the scenes, you knew his failing health had caused him to seek you out as the intense guilt of his lie came crashing down on him.
Toshi trusted you to relieve his pain and indulge in his degrading fantasies, and you hadn’t failed him yet.
But your trust was not easily bought, and none of your customers ever paid much mind to whether your perceived belief in them was genuine.
After so many glimpses into the messes of pro-heroes personal lives, you knew you’d have to be your own protector. Hence, the photos remained in a locked folder hidden away as you sat yourself down next to the dozing hero and wiped away as much evidence of your meeting as you could.
“How are you feeling?” you asked quietly, lathing the warm cloth between his legs and softening length.
“Good, all things considered,” he responded, voice returned to it’s normal, deep baritone.
“I sincerely hope you won’t have to do much sitting tomorrow,” you quipped and it earned you a chuckle.
“I’ll manage.”
You rolled him gently and finished clearing the rest of his spend from the flat expanse of his stomach. Toshi mumbled his thanks and you gave his thigh a friendly squeeze before retreating from the room to shower and change yourself.
He’d be gone by the time you got out, notification of payment on your phone and a sizable tip left on your dresser as a parting gift.
And as long as Yagi Toshinori was just as good a boy on the outside as he was here, then the world would never need to know what their Symbol of Peace got up behind your closed doors.
***
“All Might! Mister All Might, sir!”
The grating voice of that shithead reporter echoed through the speakers of your headphones over and over again. Your hand shook as the train stuttered to a halt and a wave of passengers burst out onto the platform.
“All Might, are the rumors true!?”
Your stomach sank as the reporter shouted your name above the ruckus of microphones and camera flashes and roaring bodies. Their voice was like chalk on your tongue, dry and cracked and clamoring to know whether the Symbol of Peace was involved with the recently revealed ‘seedy’ and ‘scandalous’ sex ring between yourself and multiple top ranking heroes.
You’d been out having a relaxing lunch with friends in the city when everyone’s phones blew up. It wasn’t that you hid the general details of your job, but by the looks on their faces were enough to make your face burn. The judgement was clear—what you did was abhorrent, disgusting and by extension, so were you. Reporters had caught you on camera with a certain second ranking pro and very quickly deduced exactly who you were and what services you offered.
The tabloids took it and ran, dragging your reputation behind them.
Call after call and text, dms on your social media pages, all from news outlets requesting interviews or quotes or hero fans calling you a ‘shameless whore’ for going after pros—hell death threats had even begun to fill your inboxes.
Hero fans really were ride or die, you supposed, although the ‘die’ in that scenario seemed to refer more to you than themselves. They would never believe their precious big boy crush had ever associated with the likes of you, had ever willingly kneeled for you—had ever enjoyed it.
They couldn’t understand the things you did, all they saw was some false emasculation.
And if it came out that Toshinori had any contact with you, his career would be ruined.
You had hoped from the little you’d learned about him in your sessions, that he’d simply deny knowing you existed at all. That he’d have mercy on you, treat you like the thousand helpless civilians he pulled from burning buildings or whatever the hell heroes did these days.
But you’d been right before to say that you didn’t know Toshi.
And now you certainly didn’t like him either.
“Are you one of the pros involved?” the reporter hounded again as All Might’s massive form panned into frame.
“As your Symbol of Peace, I certainly do not partake in such degenerate behavior,” his words rang out, deep and resonating. “I would never associate with someone who’s actions border on criminal.”
The dark, soulless pits he called eyes stared mockingly from your tiny screen as his signature laugh reverberated through your ears along with the train’s clacking breaks. You ripped the headphones from your ears and closed out of the app, ducking your head and pushing towards the door. Everyone’s eyes were drilling into you, worming deep under your skin and making you squirm like so many of those heroes had done on your silk sheets.
Rationally, you were aware not many people would have seen the story yet. Tabloid trash took a day or two to disseminate into the general social media outlets and for people to take notice. Your friends only knew because your name stuck out to them, but you were hardly recognizable in your typical citizen attire. Even still.
Your life, your work, all of it was on display.
And he’d called you a degenerate.
The infallible All Might had taken your name and tossed it in the guttered, likened you to a villain and single handedly destroyed everything you’d built in the process.
Years of effort and crawling your way up the ranks of society all for nothing.
All so some washed up hero could keep his fantasy of success going for just a little longer. Toshi trusted you with his secrets, his weakness, his body, and you’d defended that at every turn. The only thing he had to do was pay a small fee for your time and discretion.
But no amount of money could fix your toppled character. Nothing could reverse your place as a disgusting slut in the eyes of literal millions of people.
Bold of Yagi Toshinori to underestimate you so thoroughly, to think that you’d sit back in the rubble as he rescued cats and little kids and lived his delusion of perfection.
This was about trust and power.
When those lines were crossed, that’s when things got messy.
And you’d make sure to leave so big a mess, Toshi would never dream of coming back from it.
***
Your apartment building was thankfully free of any press when you arrived home. It had been a few days since All Might instigated your public slander, but the mass media hadn’t managed to track you down after you went into a short period of hiding.
You needed time to let all your other clients involved in the scandal play their cards.
There would be no use in condemning one just to have them warn the rest of their equally impending doom. That way you could be assured they’d all come crashing down with you. Especially the blonde poster boy of hero society himself.
His would be the sweetest fall.
It had been long enough now that you could start compiling. You locked the door behind you, shrugging off your coat and settling on the couch. The plush cushions sank as you fell back, pulling out your phone and scrolling through your contacts. Toshi was there, two red and blue hearts on either side of his name. You pulled up his text thread.
You’d thought about going public of course.
Of course you had.
Your entire career had been trashed, you’d been shamed by the number one hero himself and your personal life was blasted over social media.
But you were human, so you were weak.
And you had liked Toshi.
Well, you hated him now—a deeply dark, burning resentment—but before that, he’d been so sweet to you in a way that most were not. Respectful and nice and you were unused to it. So, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to eradicate his credibility in the same outright manner.
No, you had decided you’d give him a chance.
Because you were better than him.
A chance to atone, come clean, apologize the way you’re sure he would if his public image wasn’t so goddamn important to him. So you didn’t reach out to any of the media outlets that had been hounding your socials for the past week, and didn't offer them the inside scoop quite yet. Instead, you stared at the handsome contact photo of your hero client and slowly typed him up a message he couldn’t ignore.
It was short and sweet, polite but firm. You acknowledged he most certainly did not want to speak with you—in fact, you weren’t very inclined to speak with him ever again either—but you happened to be in possession of some fairly compromising photographic evidence of your time together. And if that evidence were ever to, say, end up in the pocket of the exact scandal rag that sent voice clips of All Might all but denouncing you as a whore to the nation, well. Things would certainly not end well for him.
But, you were nothing if not professional.
He knew that.
You never wanted to use these, but he had forced your hand. Of course you were more than willing to work out a deal with him.
He was your favorite client after all.
In any case, he knew how to reach you, and he had a generous 48 hours to give you an answer to your proposition.
Oh and you were kind enough to provide a little snapshot of just exactly the type of evidence you meant.
Your thumb hovered over the little blue arrow to send. The phone clacked against your nails as it shook in your grip, slick from sweat and frayed nerves. You couldn’t quite tell if you were anxious or angry or some awful combination of the two, but your heart was in your throat as you shut your eyes and pressed send.
There was no going back, and if this all came tumbling to the ground, you promised yourself that you would shatter gracefully.
Letting the screen go dim, you stared in silence at the small check mark confirming the message had been delivered and your fate sealed. You pulled yourself to your feet and made your way to the bedroom.
He’d get back to you soon, or maybe he wouldn’t. You couldn’t know for sure whether or not Toshi would simply ignore your texts and be blindsided when the deadline passed and you destroyed him all over again in a far less enjoyable manner than you used to. But whatever the case, it was out of your hands for now.
With aching feet and tired eyes, you stripped slowly and stumbled towards the bathroom. Turning the water to just below scalding, you did your best to scrub away any pesky remaining guilt that clung to you in a thin, suffocating film.
You told yourself that there was no other choice. That you would have found another way if there was one. That this was how business often went. You had seen it before when you first entered in the field of sex work and you’d see it again. So you scrubbed yourself raw and let all your doubts trickle down the drain.
Tonight, you would sleep restlessly, but it was a fair enough burden to carry for your honor.
You were foolish to believe the cost of revenge wouldn’t bear a heftier price.
***
You woke slowly, trapped momentarily in the strange limbo between sleep and consciousness that fooled you into thinking the strange tightness at your wrists was nothing more than a leftover side effect of a dream.
The reality was so much worse.
It wasn’t until you felt the blunt, radiating sting of knuckles backhanded against your cheek that the haze of sleep fell away, and you could truly appreciate the scene before you.
Which was to say, you could take the opportunity to scream before Yagi Toshinori’s fingers were shoved down your throat to muffle the noise. He was large, shirt seams full to bursting, and sporting an expression you’d never seen before. His eyes, while always dark, were like holes now and they filled you with an unfamiliar sense of dread.
He’d called you a villain before, and now he was looking at you like one too.
“Oh no,” Toshi hissed. His voice was impossibly deep, reverberating against your ribs painfully, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you.”
One quick bout of struggling made it very apparent he didn’t want you moving either as your wrists had been bound behind your back and your ankles were similarly immobilized. The fingers in your mouth pressed hard on your tongue, his thumb pushing below your chin to make you choke and splutter.
“You really let all that power get to your head, didn’t you?” Toshi’s voice was buzzing in your ears and mingling with the pain in your jaw. He put one massive knee on the mattress and hooked his fingers behind your teeth, forcing you to sit up from the bed.
You could feel your face burn as he looked down at you, drool slipping passed your lips and coating his fingers. The straining bulge in his pants looked even bigger than you remembered now that he was no longer the slip of a man you’d come to know as Yagi Toshinori.
No this was All Might, the Symbol of Peace.
And you got the feeling that whatever was about to happen, it was not going to be peaceful for you.
He had you tied and trussed like a piece of meat, and he would treat you like one. You’d seen this before, you’d tied these knots—he’d been where you were now, but he’d asked for it. The loss of control was never something you’d delighted in on a good day, and now the rising pressure in your chest and the sensation of walls closing had panic coursing through you.
“Did you really think that I’d come back here willing to grovel at your feet?” he jeered, the trademark smile on his face more snarl than grin.
He shook your jaw violently in his grasp, listening to the joints pop as they tried to stretch around his thick fingers. Your name left his mouth in a mock coo, just as you had done to him so many nights before. “Remember, you might get to call me a bitch but it’s only because I let you.”
Your hands trembled violently against the bonds which tore the delicate skin and rubbed it raw. Toshi’s free hand traveled along his thigh to rub himself through his pants, his knuckles brushing your nose as he bucked into his palm.
“But now you’ve stepped out of line,” he mused and clicked his tongue as though you were a student who’d done poorly on his latest exam. “And I’m going to make sure that whore mouth of yours never utters my fucking name again.”
Eyes wide with horror, you watched as Toshi’s fingers fumbled with the button and zipper of his slacks until his cock had sprung free, monstrous in length and girth, dripping onto your forehead.
You’d seen it before, but it seemed bigger now. So big that you’d never been able to take it, and Toshi had been staunchly against you ever trying lest he quite literally split you in two. But any kindness he’d shown you before was clearly off the table. His fingers pumped in and out of your throat as if preparing you somehow to take the stretch. It wouldn’t help. You knew that. He knew that.
Toshinori smiled as he removed his fingers in favor of digging the spit slicked digits into the joints of your jaw, ensuring you wouldn’t bite down on him as he pressed the spongy tip to your lips. The panic that had set in—making your blood rush and your limbs shake—was constricting your chest and the pressure of Toshi’s dick pushing past your teeth made your breathing even more erratic.
You whimpered loudly, trying to wrench your head away as the strong salt and musk flavor of his pre cum spread across your tongue, but that only made him thrust forward harder. His length quickly hit resistance back of your throat as you gagged and tears burned at the corners of your eyes.
The ache in your jaw was already unbearable and your bottom lip was being rubbed raw by warm spit and the friction of Toshi roughly fighting to sink his dick fully into your mouth.
“Mm, that’s it,” he groaned as you inadvertently licked over his tip, trying to force him away. “You look so much better like this.”
He ran a falsely sweet hand across your cheek, collecting the stream of tears and using the moisture to slick the rest of his length. Your chest heaved in a mixture of gags and increasingly violent sobbing. You were stretched painfully wide as he rolled his hips again, pushing the thickest bit of his cock into your mouth and forcing your teeth to dig painfully into your upper lip. With the next thrust, he was able to sink another excruciating inch deep into your throat. Blood rushed from where you bit yourself and caused crimson streaks to form as Toshi fucked slowly into your mouth.
Your mind was slipping.
You’d had so little time to process the encounter, so instead your brain had secluded most of your consciousness into a precious little box, away from the intense burning in your throat as Toshi finally sank all of his innumerable inches completely into you. Your throat bulged and protested, tightening in an attempt to force him out.
It only made him moan loudly and dig his fingers into your hair.
“See?” he huffed, pulling out at an agonizing pace only to ram his length in roughly to the hilt. “I’d never lie to my public, you really are just as much of a slut as they say you are.”
You shrieked around his cock, though it was muffled so badly by the lack of air and the wet slap of his constant thrusting that no one but you could hear the screaming in your own head. The pain was unbearable, this awful friction burning sensation that had your stomach churning and your chest wracked with stifled cries. Your bound legs kicked and your fingers grasped useless at the sheets as Toshi fucked your mouth reckless abandon.
Time blurred along with your vision, whether from the lack of oxygen or the tears you weren’t sure.
And most horrifyingly of all, was the pleasure that grew as your mind drowned the pain in darkness. You felt as though you were floating, disgusted but euphoric and the slide of him against your lips became delicious. Heat rose in you and built between your legs accompanied by a distant and unfamiliar ache to please, to be touched, to taste him, to obey.
You wondered if this was how he felt when you forced his mouth on you. If he slid into this strange space where your mind was a separate entity and the only thing that mattered was the pain and the pleasure and the release.
Because somehow, in the midst of your struggle and revulsion, he’d made this strange, incorporeal part of you enjoy this.
All the fight had drained out of you, letting your jaw hang slack and your tongue flick up to catch his tip on every backstroke. Your eyes flitted up to look at him through the haze of tears and sweat, hoping strangely that he’d be pleased with you. And the groan you earned yourself was delectable.
You gave in, then. Let yourself be swept away by the rushing of blood in your ears and the rhythm of Toshi tearing you apart.
At some point, you could distantly feel his thrusts becoming more erratic, turning into a rough grinding in your mouth.
You couldn’t even taste it when he came, his cock was too obscenely deep in your neck, but the warmth of it burned your bleeding throat and filled your belly with a hot finality.
You weren’t even afforded the dignity of spitting his seed onto the floor where it belonged, ignoring the searing voice in your head that revealed in being rewarded with his essence.
When Toshi finally pulled out and tucked himself away, your head fell limply to your chest. A series of violent coughs erupted from you as a thick, viscous mixture of blood and spit and cum dripped from your tongue.
Those impossibly large hands gripped your chin once again, forcing you to look up into those piercing black eyes.
“Now, you’re never going to speak about me again,” he wasn’t asking but you glared up at him as his hand fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone.
The device was comically small in those hands of his as he aimed it at your ruined face and snapped a picture—the flash blinding you while he reached around and roughly undid the knotted rope keeping you in place.
“Because if you do, I’ll make sure those reporters know everything I said about you was nothing but the truth.”
The loudest part of you wanted to scream, to punch and bite and tell him it wasn’t. That you were a professional, with self-respect and dignity and you were good and your job, but—
But when you opened your sore and aching jaw to shout, nothing came out.
No sound, no yell, no words.
Just this awful rasp that made your throat feel like pins were sticking into the abused flesh.
“Well, looks like I might not need this after all,” Toshi dangled the phone in front of your face before pocketing it once again. “Looks like you won’t be saying much of anything for a good long while.”
And then Yagi Toshinori left.
He turned on his heel and walked out as you toppled off the bed behind him, trying so hard to scream despite the pain and the ripping in your chest—whether they were curses or cries for him to stay, you weren’t sure.
But there was nothing either way.
So you sat and screamed in silent agony at his retreating form until the sound of a door slamming rang out through your home.
It seemed that in all your years of playing this game, you’d finally been toppled off your tightrope.
Because you were good at your job, so you knew. It was all about the exchange of power, and yours had just been thoroughly stripped away.
#all might x reader#yagi toshinori x reader#toshinori x reader#tw dubcon#tw noncon#tw blackmail#dark all might#dark yagi toshinori#mha smut#all might smut#mha x reader#mha fanfic#bee.writes
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omg i love your writing sm😳❤️ I JUST REALIZED THAT IM THE SAME AGE IF YURIO AGH ITS A GREAT DAY TO BE 15😩👌 also, may i request yurio who meets the reader in japan (like he met her maybe after viktor chooses his program) and she's a skateboarder so like she accidentally skates into him! i feel like it'd be really innteresting to see an ice skater and a skater together as a couple haha (bonus if she's won national skateboarding competitions😎) have a great day and remember to stay hydrated!❤️
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yes !!! i love this idea !! i went on a hiatus again, so sorry it’s VERY late, i hope it’s worth it though LOL
i’m personally not a skater, so i’m sorry if this isn’t accurate to how people skate :(
-mari<3
Navigation
Warnings: None I believe, just some swearing!
Pronouns: she/her
Words: 1.5k
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You always enjoyed skateboarding. It was your favorite activity since you’ve been younger. It was kind of the way you were able to let stress go and have fun, especially since you are in your mid-teens. Things get rough at age 15, but there’s always skating there to help you.
You were skating down the streets one day in Japan, your (h/c) hair was flowing in the strong breeze since it was a significantly colder day, it was winter after all. There was snow on the ground, but only on the side of the roads and sidewalks, but it was all pretty melted.
You closed your eyes for a second because it felt like the wind was making your eyes shrivel up, but a few seconds later, you fell to the ground with a small ‘hmph’ leaving your lips.
You opened your eyes to see a shortish boy standing up, he looked pissed to say the very least.
“WHY WEREN’T YOU WATCHING WHERE YOU WERE GOING?!” the blond feminine boy screamed.
You stood up and dusted off your clothes, for some small pebbles and dirt got on you when you fell.
“I could say that same about you,” you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN!? YOU’RE THE ONE WHO RAN STRAIGHT INTO ME!” He screamed, although it was kind of difficult to understand him because of his thick Russian accent, especially because he was screaming.
“Well, you could’ve simply stepped out of the way when you saw me skating towards you, you could’ve simply stepped aside when I was like four yards away,” You pointed out.
“It seems you also were not paying attention to your surroundings,” you spoke in a snarky tone, smirking.
He went to say something else to defend himself, but he was dumbfounded, not to mention exhausted from the strenuous training from figure skating.
“You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to argue today,” he sighed, picking up his bag he had dropped.
“Yeah, whatever you say,” you replied, dropping down your skateboard.
After you got a closer look at his face, you realized he seemed familiar. You’ve seen him somewhere, but you’re not sure where. Maybe in a store? No, that couldn’t be it.
“Where are you going?” you asked him, slowly skating by him while he walked.
“Figure skating practice, Viktor doesn’t like it when I’m late,” he softly said.
“What’s it to you?” he added, slightly raising his voice.
“I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere,” you stared at him blankly, but still paying enough attention to the control you have on your skateboard so you don’t lose balance and topple over.
“You’ve probably seen me on TV, I won Grand Prix gold,” he stated.
“Oh, Yuri Plisetsky, that’s where I’ve heard of you,”
Yuri blushed at how you said his name, it sounded so beautiful the way you said it, almost as beautiful as he found the rest of you. It didn’t take him long to notice your features after he cooled down from his baby tantrum.
He just looked away and went quiet, not saying anything else. After a few minutes, you guys arrived at the rink. Viktor was waiting by the door.
You picked up your skateboard and just held it since there was no reason for you to just stand by it.
“Yurio, you know how I feel about you being late,” the tall man with silver hair stated in a slightly annoyed tone.
“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled under his breath.
Viktor’s eyes flickered to you and a grin appeared on his face.
“Oh, I see, you were out with your girlfriend! Why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend?” Viktor excitedly exclaimed.
Yuri’s face turned red, so did yours.
“No, we just met a few minutes ago,” you shook your head.
“Yeah, this bitch carelessly bumped into me and knocked me over,” Yuri crossed his arms.
“Bitch?!” you asked.
“Okay! I see I was wrong,” Viktor nervously chuckled.
“Why don’t you guys say bye to each other then you can meet me inside, Yurio?” Viktor suggested.
“Okay, fine,”
Viktor said goodbye to you before walking back in the rink, going to get his skates on before Yuri walked in.
“Well, hopefully we don’t cross paths again,” you said irritated, dropping your skateboard back down.
Yuri let out a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
Yuri was surprised by himself. He never apologizes for anything, it’s just part of his personality to be a dick, but here he is, apologizing!
“What was that?” you asked, turning your head.
“I’m sorry,” he spoke up.
“I didn’t mean it, I’m just a dickhead, you’re not a bitch,” Yuri looked down, blushing.
“Alright, I forgive you...I think,” you said, questioning your own words.
“I’ll see you around,” you spoke.
“Wait, what’s your name?” Yuri asked you.
“Oh, right, it’s (Y/N),” you smiled.
He was shocked that you even had a beautiful name.
“Okay, see you later,” he flashed a small smile before walking into the skating rink.
You skated off, actually feeling good about having a new friend. You did find him cute though, and you were sure he’s sweet when he’s not mad. You kind of mentally beat up yourself for not getting his number, but hopefully, there will be other opportunities.
---
It’s been a few days since you bumped into Yuri, and you still thought about him occasionally, as did he. You decided to skate by the rink to see if he was there. Since he couldn’t drive, there was no way to really know if he was there unless you looked in.
The place was rented out, so if it was closed, the doors would probably be locked.
You picked up your skateboard and walked over to the door and pulled on the handle. A small smile appeared on your face when it opened. You walked inside and heard music playing.
You didn’t want anyone to see you because you didn’t want anyone to think you were creepy, so you kneeled down by the part of the skating rink wall that didn’t have a window and watched through the window part.
Yuri was elegantly skating around the rink, his routine already seemed flawless - to you at least - you weren’t used to seeing many people figure skate. He actually didn’t look annoyed for once, but he did look sweaty.
Very sweaty.
You looked down and noticed your skateboard started rolling away from you. You silently cursed under your breath before trying to grab it without making any noise. You ended up grabbing it, but you accidentally launched it because you lost grip of it while you were trying to set it up against the wall.
It made a loud clattering noise before rolling and hitting the wall. Since the room was so big, it echoed and caused Yuri to mess up his routine.
Viktor facepalmed and turned off the music.
“It was great until that noise distracted you...what even was that?” Viktor asked, looking around.
Viktor and Yuri both skated over to the exit of the rink and stepped out, looking around the lobby. You were hoping they wouldn’t see you despite you being literally four feet away from them.
Viktor saw you and you flashed a nervous smile before standing up.
“Yurio, you got a visitor,” Viktor spoke before walking back onto the rink.
Yuri looked over at you and he surprisingly wasn’t mad.
“Sorry for messing up your routine,” you apologized, looking really nervous.
“Oh... it’s just slightly annoying, I can always redo it,” he blushed.
“It was really good before I distracted you though,” you smiled.
“Oh, thanks,” his face reddened.
A few seconds of silence passed before Viktor walked back off the rink.
“Yurio, take a short break,” he said.
Yuri nodded before taking off his skates while still standing.
“Do you know where your board went?” he asked.
You looked around on the floor before spotting it, you walked over and picked it up.
“Why do you skate so much?” Yuri asked.
“I- Uh- It’s a hobby, and I’m also a competitive skater...with skateboarding, obviously,” you nervously said.
“That actually sounds interesting,” Yuri spoke.
“That’s surprising coming from you,” you smiled.
“What do you mean?” he asked confused.
“I mean, you are a dick,” you smirked and crossed your arms.
He rolled his eyes with a small frown.
“Joking!” you exclaimed, giggling.
“Anyway, we should hang out sometime if you’re up to you,” you smiled at the blond.
His face went back to the red shade it was previously at.
“A-Alright,” he stammered.
You pulled a small slip of paper out of your pocket that you wrote your number down on pre-hand in case you ran into him.
“Here’s my number, I’m free most of the time, just text me,” you smiled at him.
He took the slip of paper from your hand and put it into his pocket.
“Alright,” he smiled.
“I’ll let you get back to what you were doing, see you around!” you exclaimed with a smile while waving as you walked out.
“Bye!” he shouted.
Let’s just say, he did text you a lot when he got home.
#yuri plisetsky#yuri plisetsky x reader#yuri plisetsky imagine#yuri plisetsky x femreader#yoi#yuri on ice#yuri!!!! on ice#yurio x reader#yurio imagine#yurio plisetsky x reader
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Trans Inclusion On Screen Is Progressing—But to the Detriment of Black Trans People
This piece is part of Well + Good’s Healthy Mind vertical
“We’ve come a long way as trans actors,” claimed one of my fellow panelists during an LGBTQ+ actors’ workshop I was a part of. She wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t the full picture.
“There is a gap, though,” I added. Yes, the portrayals of trans people on screen have improved from 20 years ago, when I watched the commodification of black trans women on TV shows like Maury and The Jerry Springer Show. But if “progress” is trans actors portraying trans characters on Sense8, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, and Euphoria, then it seems to have come at the cost of Blackness.
I was a senior in college, and serving my second year as the theater club’s president, when screenwriter, director, and producer Ryan Murphy announced the cast of his show Pose would include trans femmes of color: MJ Rodriguez, Angelica Ross, Dominique Jackson, Indya Moore, and Hailie Sahar—all of whom are Black. As an Asian actress, I envied the actors and thought, Why not me?—which speaks to the collective misinterpretation of equity as a shortage of opportunities. My jealousy was greedy and unjust, insensitive to the pre-existing boxes and limitations of acting jobs for Black trans people.
Unprecedented casting aside, Pose still centered its characters’ stories at the intersection of being trans and Black. It wasn’t portrayals of gendered “trickery,” as it had been on Maury and The Jerry Springer Show, but the storytelling was still focused Black trans women’s pain.
Meanwhile, white actors are granted opportunities to tell stories that go beyond their gender. In Sense8, Naomi, played by Jamie Clayton, is a hacker in a fiercely committed interracial relationship with another woman. Although Naomi’s transness is acknowledged and honored, it is not the center of her story. In The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina, trans masculine and non-binary character Theo, portrayed by Lachlan Watson, has a brief scene of coming out to his friends, who effortlessly begin to use the pronouns “he/him”,” and it’s barely a plotline; he continues to be part of a larger story about Sabrina, a teenager caught in between her witch life and her mortal life. Both Naomi and Theo are white.
And in Euphoria, Hunter Schafer plays Jules, a high school student whose story acknowledges her transness intentionally, as a way of combating the possibility that others might dismiss her transness because of her privileges. During an interview with BUILD Series, Schafer herself acknowledged: “It doesn’t go without saying that I’m white, I’m skinny, and I pass.”
So, what does it mean to say things are better now for trans actors? It means disregarding the fact that white trans stories have profited from Black trans women’s struggle to be seen. It’s a false privilege to say “look how far we’ve come,” when “we” does not include Blackness and Black trans women still strive for the same nuanced progress in TV and film.
“The privilege of being a white trans character is that only the trans aspect needs addressing,” says James Robinson, LCSW, a Black and white biracial therapist in New York City who practices psychotherapy with artists, largely of color. He indicates, on the other hand, how the acknowledgment of race is a tightrope balance in itself. “It’s hard to portray Black characters in general; if they aren’t portrayed in experiencing trauma, then the audience might resist and the story might receive backlash because of a denial to that character,” says Robinson. “And if you do acknowledge their trauma, then in some ways the character becomes a monolith.”
As an Asian trans woman, I fall outside of the white trans representation, but as an actor, I have been able to benefit from the work of the Black trans women who showed themselves on screen before me. I felt this firsthand when Black trans women were in the audition room for a short film lead role that eventually chose to cast me. I’ve even been complicit in the ignorant celebration of white trans actors making their way in the industry as just “trans actors” and not “white trans actors.”
Psychologist Justin Hopkins, PsyD, who specializes in trauma-informed care for individuals whose identities are on the margins, says the issue is complex. “No trauma ever begets or justifies another trauma. There are simply varying degrees of pain that yearn and demand the fullness in which they are experienced,” he explains. “As white trans people recognize their desires to be visible, it is still harder for their black trans counterparts to have what [they themselves] thirst for.”
And the art of acting in itself plays a role in people’s personal hunger to be seen. “People pursue any types of jobs and passions in which they feel driven from a soul level,” Dr. Hopkins explains. “If you are someone who spent your life being invisible or having aspects of your core identity denied, it can feel incredibly rewarding, although demanding, to have a vocation where you are seen, praised, and affirmed under the bright lights. There is something satisfying and gratifying to the ego—perhaps necessarily so.”
It is no coincidence trans actors feel driven about their career; it is cathartic to deliver a performance and feel recognized in return, especially when celebrated in masses. However, that is no excuse for letting the trajectory of on-screen success irresponsibly move in a direction that leaves Black actors behind.
So, I want to ask trans actors who are not Black: What’s in it for you? Can you fight just as long and just as fiercely as you are now if you get nothing out of this? Can you agree you have been benefiting from the path Black actors paved?
This is not to say trans representation on-screen isn’t improving. It is crucial for non-Black trans actors to acknowledge the racial gaps in the progress. To fight for our Black trans kin and expect nothing in return. To acknowledge what it has taken to get to where we are in the industry. And, at the very least, to responsibly pay forward what is owed.
#healthy mind#well and good#well + good#psychology#twoc#trans women of color#POSE#POSE on FX#mj rodriguez#indya moore#dominique jackson#hailie sahar#angelica ross#janet mock#transgender#trans#mental health#trans representation#ego#actors#theatre#trans actors#euphoria#hunter schafer#the chilling adventures of sabrina#lachlan watson#sense8#jamie clayton#caos#caos 4
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Peace Treaty, 04
Paring(s); Fundy x Reader, Sapnap x Reader
Pronouns; She/Her
TW: Mention of death, SUPER LIGHT implied sexual interaction
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[YourName] would spend her days in bed, Sapnap had halted his chores for Dream and wanted to focus on her. It pained him to hear her cry and it hurt even more when he knew he couldn’t touch her. She was too embarrassed to accept his hugs or support, he didn’t know why but he didn’t want to press buttons and make the situation even worse than it already was. Today would be the first day he went out, but it wouldn’t be for long, he was simply going to grab more food, and then he would return.
While he was out, [YourName] collected the courage to wander around their backyard garden and just try and enjoy the breeze. She ended up sitting in the greenhouse and sulking for about ten minutes before returning and finally taking a shower. She felt disgusting, she had taken a shower in a week but Sapnap still slept next to her and offered his support. She didn’t want to use him when she knew she would be doing these things herself, she just kept processing that technically; she was an orphan.
Tomorrow she planned to go to L’manberg, with or without Sapnap, and collect her inherited items. After showering, she dressed again and changed the sheets, trying to make her little burst of energy and motivation last as long as possible. While the sheets washed, [YourName] sat on the couch and just fell apart again and it didn’t help when Sapnap had busted into the house yelling at Fundy to leave him alone and he’d much rather have a duel than talking it out.
“What the hell is happening?!” [YourName] asked standing up as she whipped her tears, Sapnap quickly looked over around the same time Fundy had stormed in. Fundy was obviously angry but softened when he saw [YourName] standing there. She was obviously upset about something, he hadn’t been able to actually look into any news recently, “What’s wrong?” Fundy asked, making Sapnap glare toward him “You’ve been so damn focused on me that you didn’t even realize that Gregory was murdered?!” Sapnap questioned angrily.
“Well, yes, I want justice-” Fundy began but got cut off, “Oh shut up for a second, Fundy.” Sapnap demanded placing the bags down and ushering [YourName] back to a seat where she could relax. [YourName] just remained quiet, “Wait, s-so you did murder Fungi?” she asked as she tried to clear up her throat. Sapnap didn’t make eye contact, obviously giving [YourName] her answer, “Why would you murder a poor fox!?” [YourName] asked in shock. Sapnap sighed “I didn’t mean to! I was just playing a game with it?” he explained slowly becoming more unsure about his defense “A game? What kind of game involves arrows?” [YourName] asked, folding her arms.
Sapnap sighed, truly not having an answer to her question. [YourName] sighed, “Whatever, I’m going back to L’manberg tomorrow and collecting my inheritance, are you coming?” she asked, ignoring Fundy who stood awkwardly in their main entrance. Sapnap closed his eyes and shook his head “No, I have a duel apparently.” he said, placing his focus on [YourName]. She had no words just simply nodded and left the room to go grab their sheets. Sapnap stood up fully and huffed, “You’re an ass.” he spoke toward Fundy “I’m not, I just want justice.” the fox hybrid said confidently “I’ll see you tomorrow.” he added.
While Sapnap and Fundy went out on a duel, [YourName] focused on getting whatever she could from her childhood home.
It felt dark and gloomy in her childhood home as she sat on the floor going through boxes. She could have really used some support right now, but everyone seemed busy- even if it was basically child’s play. [YourName] sighed laying down and bringing one of her father’s jackets close to her face, and once more she let her emotions take their toll and sobbed out. It echoed around her as most of the large furniture that she couldn’t take was already taken out of the home.
[YourName] didn’t hear the door open and close, nor did she hear the footstep crawling up the stairs. She jumped when she saw a shadow figure make its way close to her, but softly melted when she noticed it was just a beaten-up Fundy. “Oh my god, Fundy..” [YourName] mumbled softly dropping the jacket into her lap, Fundy shook his head and would crawl up next to [YourName] and hold her close. “I’m so sorry. I wish I would’ve just come with you. You need support.” Fundy whispered, rubbing his face in the crook of her neck.
[YourName] sighed out, it was shaky as she was in tears once more. [YourName] wrapped an arm around Fundy’s head, her fingers playing with whatever hair she could touch. “It’s fine.. It’s fine..” [YourName] repeated to herself and Fundy, Fundy just listened softly humming for [YourName], hoping it’ll calm her down. A few content squeaks escaped his lips when [YourName] managed to rub his ears, but that was it.
The woman turned so she could be held by Fundy, and right then and there she lost it. Fundy gently squeezed her as she let out the quietest sob she could muster- which wasn’t that quiet. His jacket would muffle her sobs, Fundy ran his fingers through [YourName]’s hair, moving some stands away from her face, so she didn’t have to worry about wet hair. He gently leaned down and pressed a soft kiss into her hair.
“He loved you, [YourName].” Fundy whispered, [YourName] nodded as she shook breathing in. “I’m sorry I didn’t come with you, I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you were told about the news,” Fundy added. “Oh fuck, Fundy.” [YourName] said softly laughing “I love you so much, I wish I could be with you.” she added, [YourName] moved so she held his face and gently ran her thumb across his cheek.
“If we were together, I feel as if this wouldn’t have happened.” [YourName] whispered, pressing her forehead against Fundy’s. Fundy softly sighed, he quietly agreed not wanting to speak and ruin the closest moment he’s managed to have with [YourName] in weeks. [YourName] would be the one to make the move and gently dip her head down, pressing her lips against Fundy’s. Their kiss was passionate and had needs mixed within it.
They didn’t know how long they could take being apart from each other for much longer.
After Sapnap won the duel, he returned home. Since he hadn’t joined his wife on the trip back to L’manberg, he thought he wouldn’t be needed. He did some chores around the house, debating on making dinner for himself and [YourName]. He hoped she would return tonight, she left no note saying she wouldn't, so he went ahead and boiled the water.
When he heard a knock at the door, he opened it and it revealed his close friend Dream. “Oh, Dream, what are you here for?” Sapnap asked leaning against the doorframe, he hadn’t seen much of his close friend since the wedding- but then again he didn’t really mind, all he wanted to see was [YourName]. Dream shrugged, glancing around for any sign of the person he was here for.
“I was here for [YourName], I assume she isn’t here.” Dream hummed shoving his hands into his pockets. Sapnap shook his head, “No she’s in L’manberg, she should be back later if you want to come in and wait.” he offered, stepping aside. Dream smiled and happily took the opportunity, he took a seat and would talk to his friend as Sapnap made dinner.
[YourName] would eventually come home, an extra bag in her hand. She placed it down and went to greet Sapnap, he had heard her enter and ran up to her as if he was a puppy waiting for his owner. She kissed his lips softly, Sapnap smiled bringing her in for a hug, she had yet to notice Dream sitting there waiting for a time alone with the woman.
[YourName] pulled away, softly smiling but jumped when she noticed Dream. Both Sapnap and Dream laughed at her for this “I needed to speak to you, but let’s all eat before then. Is that alright?” he asked, [YourName] glanced over to Sapnap who nodded “That’s fine.” she replied. After Sapnap helped [YourName] get her father’s items upstairs in the spare bedroom, they both returned to the dining room and dinner would begin.
[YourName] was doing the dishes while Sapnap had prepared a room for Dream, he had decided he was going to stay the night. [YourName] didn’t pay any attention to when Dream entered the room, so she jumped when he placed his arm against the counter. “I know things that go around here, like you and Fundy.” Dream said lowly, [YourName] paused and closed her eyes, breathing out, and shook her head. “Don’t tell Sapnap, Fundy and I ended things before I got married to him.” [YourName] said glaring toward him.
“Did you though? Did you actually end things?” Dream said in a sarcastic tone, [YourName] didn’t feel good getting caught like this. He could’ve done this any other way, but he chose to do it while her husband was upstairs. “What do you expect, Dream? I’m trapped in a marriage because my father, who I’m still mourning the loss of, forced me into a peace treaty.” [YourName] snapped, placing the dishes down roughly. Dream just smiled behind his mask and sighed out, “A shame.” he simply said leaving the room.
[YourName] knew Dream was Sapnap’s best friend, so she couldn’t exactly just explain what happened- plus if she did she’d be ratting herself out! She wanted to see Fundy, even if it meant on friendly terms, and if she told Sapnap she wouldn’t be able to see Fundy at all! [YourName] sighed out and finished dishes before returning upstairs and prepping for bed. She was tired and had been fighting sleep for the last few hours, so when she finally managed to make it into the bedroom she collapsed.
Sapnap walked in after saying goodnight to Dream and chuckled, “Was the trip to and from that bad?” Sapnap asked, grabbing some clothes for both him and [YourName]. She perked up from her spot and shrugged, “I guess, I didn’t know looking through my father’s stuff would be so.. Draining.” [YourName] said whispering slightly. Sapnap shook his head, he felt bad- he should’ve gone and checked on her after the duel, but he had thought she could use some time alone without him hovering over her shoulder.
“I should’ve gone and checked on you after the duel.” Sapnap said, helping [YourName] sit up and gently stripping her of her layers before handing her the nightshirt. [YourName] shook her head, “No, it’s fine, I had some help from Wilbur.” she lied gently placing a hand onto his face, Sapnap smiled and nudged his face into her hand making them both giggle. “How about we put your father’s stuff up tonight? Go ahead and get it done?” Sapnap suggested, [YourName] softly smiled and nodded.
After they both finished getting dressed, they grabbed the bag [YourName] had brought earlier and went to work. Gregory’s sword was placed nicely against above their fireplace along with the metals he’s managed to collect and were placed inside of a see-through cabinet. [YourName] stood there with a soft smile as she held herself, she felt an arm wrap around her waist so she placed her head against his shoulder. “He was nice.” Sapnap replied, [YourName] sighed and nodded quietly agreeing.
Sapnap hummed and helped [YourName] carry the bag upstairs into the unused guest room, this is where they hung up the clothing [YourName] managed to keep. Sapnap took a break and left [Yourname] for a moment, by the time he returned, [YourName] was on the floor holding the L’manberg jacket Gregory wore. Sapnap didn’t know what to say or do, he hated the shade of blue- but it had a deep connection with [YourName], so he had to put his disgust aside.
Sapnap quietly made his way over and wrapped his arms around [YourName] where she would sob into his shoulder. He just sat there, remained still, and let his wife cry it out. It was all he knew what to do, he wasn’t the best with support. Maybe he could go investigator mode and find out who murdered her father, it would bring peace and ease [YourName] into a more comforting state.
After [YourName] calmed down, they finished putting up clothing and would go to bed, sleeping the night away.
A few weeks later, L’manberg announced a presidential election, which was strange since they had never had this before. [YourName] was a dual citizen, but since she was born in L’manberg she had the right to vote, right? “Sapnap? I’m going to L’manberg to figure out more about this election thing, are you joining?” [YourName] asked peeking into the bedroom.
Sapnap looked up and shrugged “Might as well, seems like chaos and I like to watch chaos.” he replied, making [YourName] softly chuckle. The trip to L’manberg was short, [YourName] and Sapnap’s fingers were intertwined and they joked about the scenery which made the trip go by faster. Once they arrived, [YourName] and Sapnap marched right up to Wilbur’s home and entered without a knock.
“What’s this election thing about?” [YourName] asked, placing her hands on her hips, Fundy was sitting on the floor watching his father pace, “I fucked up, [YourName].” Wilbur said rushing over and placing his hands onto her shoulders. [YourName] slightly stumbled backward. “What do you mean you fucked up? You’re the only person in the election right? It’s an easy win.” [YourName] said slowly easing Wilbur’s hands off of her shoulders. “No, I’m not, I forgot to close the slots! Now there are another two candidates!” Wilbur replied in a frenzy, “And who would those be?” [YourName] asked.
“Quackity with George, and JSchlatt.”
Oh fuck.
#Dream SMP x reader#Fundy x reader#c!Fundy x reader#Sapnap x reader#c!Sapnap x reader#Fundy x you#Fundy x y/n#c!fundy x you#c!fundy x y/n#Sapnap x you#c!sapnap x y/n#mcyt x reader#x reader
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Gather around it’s headcanon post time 2
-Bayonetta, Jeanne, and Rodin are all big into video games.
-Rodin, being around as long as he has, amassed a large personal collection of game cabinets, and when he first started looking out for Bayonetta and she saw them she kinda became hooked on them. Honestly, he and Bayonetta played tons of games together in general, getting pretty much every game console as they came out and trying to best the other at multiplayer games.
-Jeanne was kinda the same, minus the cabinet collecting bit (And bayonetta bit, obviously). Her favorite console is the DS.
The three of them often like to get together to play games from time to time.
Bayonetta’s glasses are for distance, Jeanne’s are for reading.
They’re both. Very ungraceful sleepers. Jeanne sleeps in positions most people would ask ‘How is that comfortable’ to (alot less my headcanon and alot more one I’ve seen a few times and Fully agree with) and Bayonetta sleeps very unattractively. She ends up snoring, drooling and sleep talking alot, and always wakes up with her hair a mess. Jeanne’s smitten by every bit of this.
Bayonetta desperately wants to rise up enough in the church to be able to sit in the confessional booth and listen to people because she thinks it’d be funny. (Though that doesn’t stop her from sitting around in Purgatorio and doing the same)
Bayonetta and Jeanne have a wedding every few years because they think its fun and they never had a chance to properly marry back in Vigrid so they celebtrate it as much as they can now
I realized I could come up with other beast within forms for Balder aside from his wolf form, so I think a peacock (kind of a given), an oarfish, and bleeding heart doves.
Jeanne did get to meet both Rosa and Balder before everything went to shit-- she met Balder once or twice, but she got to know Rosa alot. Especially after Jeanne and Bayonetta started dating, Jeanne saw Rosa as a mother figure of sorts, which was much needed considering she didn’t have a great relationship with her own mother. Both Balder and Rosa were incredibly happy about and supportive of Bayonetta and Jeanne, but the both did worry a bit knowing what them getting caught could mean for them.
Balder built a house for him and Rosa in a sort of grey area of both the Lumen and Umbran territories. Admittedly, he used the help of angels to build it, so Lumen aesthetics are very loud on it, but he was sure to add some Umbran flare to make sure it felt more homey to Rosa. (This was where Cereza’s seen to go to sleep near the end of Bayonetta 1)
Bayonetta is practically unaffected by weather and is comfortable wearing anything in the heat or cold. Jeanne on the other hand is incredibly susceptible to the weather-- she ends up getting very hot or very cold very easily. Good news for her in the winter is that she can easily cozy up to Bayonetta to stay warm.
For Jeanne, when the end of the schoolyear rolls around, she tells her students if they all pass their final tests she’ll do donuts for them on her motorcycle in the school parking lot. She always makes it so they’re able to pass (It’s not easy exactly, but she makes sure they all know whats on it) and she does it every year. And the schoolboard hates it more and more with each passing year.
I talked in my last post about gender headcanons for Bayonetta and Jeanne but I forgot to include pronouns-- Jeanne uses she/they and Bayonetta’s okay with any as long as you’re respectful about it.
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"for one muse to kiss the other's scar" w satan pls? 👉🏻👈🏻
masterlist / 600+ followers event
Thank you for your request, anon! No pronouns were specified so I hope you don’t mind masc mc :’)
I kept getting scared that this was getting too lengthy (i have a short ass attention span so ik i cant read long stuff LMAO) so I redid a bunch of parts, i hope it’s not too apparent!
✖️MALE MC✖️
Anything with history is an eye-catcher to Satan.
Just like a good novel, things with meaning and origins deeper than surface level are so much more enjoyable and genuine than things that simply are there. Who says an Avatar of Wrath can’t be poetic?
But it’s often that things with such overwhelming sentiment that Satan feels become an eye sore much quicker than anything else. Some things of personal importance are meant to be remembered, but not belabored to the point of ruin.
He is forced to face this fact today when Lucifer pushes a boundary that may not have even existed before. At any rate, it does now. Skipping past the point of negotiation entirely, Satan now finds himself pacing his room, cursing his brothers name under his hissing breath.
MC patiently watches as Satan goes through his breathing exercises on his own, knowing that if Satan has learned to calm down on his own before, he can do it again. Just being in his room with him is enough.
On the other hand, Satan isn’t too keen on that idea.
Things have become enstranged between him and Lucifer— Even more so. At this point, it’s hard to tell that MC’s help had brought them any closer at all.
The recent fights and arguments continuously end in Satan peering at the long, winding scar wrapping around his wrist and forearm like a ravenous snake. Just its faded presence is enough to make him conflicted.
He received this scar long ago, at least thousands of years ago. From a day that Lucifer got a bit too close to Satan when he was angry.
Maybe that was the day that set the precedent. The precedent that stated that no matter how smart or calm he presents, there will always be some turmoil within him brewing like a storm.
The disappointment and weariness that shows in his own family’s faces when he gets worked up is so evident he wishes he could be anyone else than who he is. Even if just for a day. But isn’t it unfair to only expect chaos from him? Certainly he’s been doing better to keep his anger in check... Right?
Besides... It’s just his nature to be angry. So, maybe... No, he still is held accountable for his actions. He definitely should just—
“Satan? Are you... Are you okay?” MC quietly calls his name from his bed. Perhaps he should have called Satan’s name a little earlier? The demon stood staring at his clothed arm in absolute silence for a number of minutes until now.
Satan’s eyes open a little wider. “Huh..? Oh, I’m sorry. I must have spaced out... How uncharacteristic of me.” He can’t find it in himself to smile, and instead uses his left hand to hold onto his scarred forearm, pushing it aside in hopes to shake off his intrusive thoughts.
“Moreover... I feel like I have calmed down significantly. Thank you for being here MC, but perhaps you’ve been bored out of your mind here.” He gives a firm smile and quickly looks away. “You may leave if you’d like.”
MC doesn’t quite listen to his offer. Satan seemed more tensed than normal when he would have “calmed down”. If he were a danger to be around at that moment, he would have said so, anyways. And if there was any chance of being able to help him before he does something risky, MC would take it.
“Well... It wouldn’t hurt to stay just a bit more, would it?” MC gave him a small smile, in which Satan seemed to become a bit flustered upon seeing.
Satan wonders how to respond. MC was right. And it may just hurt more if Satan is alone with his thoughts. “Oh, MC.” He sighs with unsaid appreciation, then makes his way into bed beside the human, who is still sitting on the edge. “Sometimes I wonder who truly are the angels of the exchange program.”
MC giggles, rolling over so that the two males lay side by side. “I’m no angel, but humans aren’t so bad... Occasionally.”
Satan smiles to let him know that the response was well received. Lord knows how grim his expression was while he was subconsciously considering his past just moments ago.
“But, that aside...” MC turns his head to look at the blonde. “What’s wrong, Satan? I’m not forcing anything out, but I’m thinking I should start to worry.”
Satan could almost laugh at those words. Worry? For him? A demon who embodies fury and unrelenting rage? It’s... A little odd to picture.
“Hmph. Well... Now that I have to put it in words, it seems a bit silly when it really shouldn’t be...”
MC raised a brow. “Based off of how you were glaring at your hands earlier, I doubt that this is about it being silly, and more about you trying to downplay it. But I’d say that’s a rather common coping mechanism.”
Satan felt as if he were see through. A mere glass pane. How could someone see into his mind so well? He had barely gotten into his explanation at all. “Er. I guess you could say that...
“It would appear that the tension... Between Lucifer and I has caused some rather distasteful memories to surface.” Satan mumbles the words as if they would reflect his character poorly. As if they were something to be ashamed of.
MC picks up on this, and a frown deepens his features. “Satan...” He pauses to think about what to say next, “You see, this is the part where I have no idea what to add because you guys have thousands of years of age on me.”
Satan ruffles the male’s hair when he sees the small pout on his lips. “You’ll come to learn that most demons are petty, shallow creatures with personalities about as deep as a puddle,”
Coming to a stop, the Avater of Wrath subconsciously began to pull up his sleeve to reveal the very edge of his scar. However, he hesitates, and his throat tightens just barely.
What in the hell was he doing?
“...” MC can’t look away from Satan’s hands, and it seems that time has stopped for a moment. Even the air that previously entered and exited MC’s nose seized.
Satan suddenly relaxes. It’s just MC. A human that knows all too well that this household could be dangerous and frightening. So he continues to pull up the bit of cloth covering peach skin.
“And sometimes, we tend to give into vainglorious temptations that only end up hurting someone, or everyone.” Satan finishes, voice barely breaking the border between a whisper and mutter. “I suppose I could have gone about pushing Lucifer’s buttons in a smarter way... But I didn’t, unfortunately. So I’m left with this loving scar from my brother.”
MC supresses a gasp, and gently takes hold of Satan’s arm. “It looks like it was super deep... I’m sorry this happened to you Satan.”
Satan watches MC trail his fingers calmingly along the edge of his river-like line along his arm. He rotates his forearm so that he can follow its path all around his arm.
“I appreciate that, MC... But I’m ‘over it’, for lack of better words. You see here, the scars actually make the silhouette of a cat on the untouched skin. It’s rather cute.”
MC laughs at the revelation. It was cute. But as much as he could admire Satan’s turning of an unfortunate event into a moment of entertainment for the two of them, he couldn’t ignore the weary look on Satan’s face.
“Awh... That’s adorable.” MC lightly mocks a babyish tone, and rubs his finger on the head of this imaginary feline. “It’s like a mini Satan cat.” He feels Satan’s shoulder move as he chuckles breathily.
“I value your adoration for my unsightly skin, MC. But if you’re so affectionate to this mere imagery of ‘mini Satan’ , perhaps you could spare a moment or two paying more attention to me.” He’s not sure if Satan means to sound dismayed rather than playful, even through the smile on his lips.
So he decides to gently grab onto Satan’s arm and press his lips against the indented skin on his forearm.
“M-MC-..!” Satan jumps, free hand freezing mid-air. His body heat is rising, and he’s sure MC can feel it.
“You’d better not be talking about Mini Satan like that, Satan.” MC mumbles against his skin. “He’s not unsightly. He’s wonderful and handsome, just like you.”
Satan can’t find a way to respond. Was he supposed to feel his heart squeeze? This seemed too menial of a response from MC for his heart to be racing like this. He simply smiles and shakes his head helplessly.
“Thank you, MC...” He lets out the breath he had been holding in.
Perhaps he could afford to be transparent every once in a while.
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Bathym general HCs + Making a Pact
(is it still hcs if its ur oc?)
general headcanons
Bathym is based off of one the 72 demons that Solomon has a pact with! His interests (precious stones and plants) is based off of his small wiki page!
He lives with a roommate, he's usually in his home office turned basically greenhouse, it's messy but he knows each and every plant by name in order despite rotating their positions regularly for optimal "sun"
His scarf isn't as much to cover his face, but his neck. It is like a comfort item, if he's not wearing it he will have something else on like a turtleneck or high collar for example.
Bathym actually uses both he/she pronouns! He and him are just more common because of his physique but has confirmed to like either.
His highest confidants are Solomon and Asmodeus, the second started as one of the demons he had to meet regularly when summoned and enjoyed.
(This is probably because Bathym doesn't understand that constantly leaning into other's warmth and bumping their shoulders is affection and that he's quite prone to this which makes him clingy though accidentally. He's working on it but Asmo completely condones it which doesn't help the progress.)
He also gets along well with Barbatos though this is more as business associates, helping Barb grow tea blends.
He probably wouldn't do too bad with the other brothers if you made him hang out with them, probably getting along more with Mammon. He likes being able to share his gem collection with him.
His demon form gives him the addition of one horn similar to one of a unicorn and a tail that splits into two ends, both in an opal or agate look.
He is very protective, Asmo will gossip that one time this lower demon was trying to make business with Solomon while they were eating lunch together and there was this red glow in Bathym's eyes from over Solomon's shoulder.
His Devilgram user is Bthyme !!!!!
His body type for height and bulk is in between Beel and Lucifer
making a pact with bathym under cut!
Getting close to Bathym, likely meant you were trying to talk to Solomon and had met him by association. Perhaps even having seen his face previously on shopping trips or photos saved to Asmo's D.D.D., but now it had a name. And a tie to someone you knew which made networking with the random demon easier and more allowed that picking him at Madame Screams out of the blue.
And Solomon liked having you know people (demons) he knew, something that kept you close as well as making ties with ones he knew were safer instead of ones that were rude in RAD hallways. So when you had asked a question, that could simply get a much deeper perspective, you had received the number of Bathym. He in turn knew you were safe because of how Solomon and the other ones living in Purgatory Hall enjoyed you, your reputation was quite higher than just "good" and the times he would see you after introductions you had never seemed shady or wrong.
A relationship that started off with a question he knew quite personally, asking him about the difference of crystal clusters of the same precious stones based off of being grown underground as in Devildom or underground of the human realm. He enjoyed answering them too, even if your interest was superficial it was nice to openly express his honed knowledge, though he did prefer to speak to you personally instead of just texting, so he would ask to join you for a study "date" in a genuine way instead of some smooth flirt. Mainly because he knew his messages about his interests were always so bulky sometimes going past the character limit if he was passionate enough.
It would be a few months, him getting comfortable pushing his scarf from his face to smile at you or just talk without the slight muffle. Him being more conscious on trying not to lean too much into your space as if he was the same foliage that brushed him any time he used his door. He would plan for Diavolo's party, and in turn your party, he was actually quite high in the hierarchy as much as he brushed aside any idea of his level. But when he saw you in the yard by the lake making a pact with Belphie, he was more resigned. Even leaving earlier once you had started your personal celebrations with the brothers. After all, he had been invited to Diavolo's. Not yours.
For some time afterwards, Bathym would be close to wilting himself, yet devoted in a way his plants had never been so full of color, when you would ask to see him again for the first time since your welcome party. Something serious that Solomon had agreed with your opinion on that involved him, so he would let you into his room. Himself settled sitting on the edge of his bed, hands resting on his thighs to keep him from slouching too much after he had lowered the volume of the music for the ferns.
You had told him and showed the message chain between you and Solomon talking about making a pact with him, of your own agenda unknowing of Bathym's own request. It was a talk between you and the sorcerer specifically due to him being Bathym's fifth pact in history, the two being quite close.
Solomon had agreed that it was a good idea, Bathym was already quite good with his manners despite his accidental PDA and was a good protector if need be. Other than that he was an easy demon to get along with, and he had seemed to enjoy your company even to the point of seeking it out himself. A rarity, really.
-
His room was dark, sun lamps with the timers had been turned off for their alloted time for the day letting the plants experience a solid day and night cycle and only knowing light from his small desk lamp that kept his room dim but with hard edges visible. Dark though still and mainly green like a cavern heavy not only by the weighing rocks but its lichen as well. And at the end instead of a bear hidden for annual hibernation it was Bathym, eyes glowing with some reflective from the lamp pointing in his direction.
His voice was cold, gravelly in its tiredness, lower than usual as if putting up a vocal moat in defense of advances.
"Pacts aren't as easy as your brothers or Solomon make them out to be, what do you have to offer me when you have already given away something so prized?"
> hug him.
> give back gemstone.
You would have to walk up through the messes of various green and earth, with eyes watching your every step as your legs strained to make the muscles inside power through. Quiet other than your rustling. Quiet other than your heartbeat as you pulled him towards your chest to hug him, gently and just barely wrapping your arms around the back of his head, curling and soothing at pale blue hair to receive a small sigh muffled to your front with and reaching to stay at your side as if would fall like so many he knew.
"I know, I trust that you can handle it," said softer, seeping with something so internalized that pinpointing it as a specific emotion was irrationally angering.
Pulling back slightly, his head fell farther than the rest of him at first but eventually all of him had fallen to lay back on the rest of his bed, surprisingly clean and made but now with its blankets slightly jumbled by the weight on top. The hand on your side had intented to take you down with him, targeted, yet was loose enough you could pull away. It was something he had mirrored from how Solomon shows affection, irrelevant to the fact that you two now laid side by side. His forehead pressed to yours, eyes closed to take in the scene at a correct pace for him.
You tuck the braid and other loose hair that had fallen across his face behind his ear, the sight letting you see the slight smile he allowed that had been visible from his scarf pushed down in the fall.
"I agree to your pact. MC, know not only this gives you my power and strength but I entirely, will be yours as well."
#his room mate is named murmur which is an old demon oc i used to have in case its important to anyone#basically making a pact with bathym : howls brooding arc#tofus bathym tag bby!#tofus ocs!#tofus blurbs!#obey me oc#om oc#obey me original character#obey me imagines#obey me headcanons
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Relatively Unharmed (Rewrite)
Summary: Jeremy gets Gavin home from a deal gone wrong that left a bullet lodged in Gavin's arms and fear of how the other Fakes are going to react. Sure Jeremy's chest hurt from the fight, maybe enough to leave them just barely able to catch their breath, but Gavin is surely what the focus should be on here. To make sure the others aren't going to be mad at this new crewmember they've added in not protecting their own.
Prompt fill: One of the crew is in a bad way healthwise for whatever reason but hides it so no one will worry, but its worse than they thought and the other have to find them passed out and nurse them back to health.
A/N: Rewrite of an older fic to remove a certain character. Also to have nonbinary Jeremy with they/them pronouns because Rimmy Tim is canon, baby! Let me know if there are any parts not edited properly. And as always comments and reblogs are supper appreciated!!!!
Jeremy grits their teeth as they push forward, Gavin’s arm thrown over their shoulder as his feet drag out of the elevator floor. Gavin shakes with a wet cough that chills Jeremy’s heart, blood dripping and spilling. Just a little longer, Jeremy thinks, their own chest tight under their body armor, where growing welts stretched with every shift. Making every step and breath ache, burn. But it doesn’t stop them, as Gavin was drifting in and out, body heavier in their arms. Jeremy punches in the security code of the penthouse door, pushing inside to meet the startled and worried eyes of the other Fakes as they stumble and all but collapse inside.
It wasn’t often that trade deals went south. Especially ones that were supposed to be easy, ones with people they’ve dealt with before. But it happens. This might not be the first time. But it is the first time it was Jeremy’s fault.
They shouldn’t have shot first. They shouldn’t have sparked it all going down. Because of them, Gavin was just barely conscious on his feet, the others catching his broken body as they pass the threshold of safety.
“What the fuck happened?” Geoff’s angry face is on them. Michael and Jack were carrying Gavin away, relieving Jeremy of his weight and it takes everything not to fall down after him. They watch him go as Geoff steps even closer.
Jeremy knows, deep down, the anger is only stemmed in worry and fear at Gavin’s state. It still makes Jeremy flinch back.
“T-They pulled out a gun. I didn’t know what else to do, so I shot them. But there were too many and one of them got Gavin in the shoulder. H-He fell so hard. I got him out of there as fast as I could, I came straight back –“
They’re interrupted by a howl of pain from Gavin as Jack and Michael work together to try to set and disinfect Gavin’s shoulder. Jeremy pales at the sound. Geoff gives them another angry glare before rushing over to Gavin’s side.
Jeremy wants to go to Gavin too, heart wrenching at another scream ripping from his throat. But with the others already working over Gavin, there wasn’t room for Jeremy to go to his side. The rest probably wouldn’t want them to either. Not after they were the reason Gavin was screaming, crying in pain, so much blood dripping down, spilling onto the floor.
Jeremy slowly leaves the room, moving further back into the penthouse, away from the wailing. As the adrenaline drains, as the panic of getting Gavin home, getting him to safety drains, they can start to feel the ache in their chest worsen.
They nearly double over in pain when they reach the bathroom, bending over the counter, clutching their chest. Taking off their armor nearly makes them collapse, hissing and cursing the strains pulling every muscle. There were two bullets stuck in it, one right over their heart. At least Jeremy did one thing right remembering to wear it.
Despite it being off, Jeremy still feels like they can barely breathe, chest on fire with every heaved breath. They glance to the mirror, looking at their now bare chest already molting into purple and black. It looks hideous under the harsh bathroom lighting, the pristine mirror missing none of it. Jeremy tries to feel around their ribs, tries to feel the damage, but all they can do is hiss and wince in pain the second their hand touches sensitive skin.
They start to reach for some painkillers in the medicine cabinet but then stop. There was only one bottle. Only one pill bottle left and Gavin needed it more than them. Gavin was hurt more. Sure Jeremy’s bruised, maybe bones even cracked, but that’s nothing compared to a bullet ripped into one’s shoulder. So Jeremy sighs, dropping their arm away from the painkillers. They grab their shirt to slip it back on, which proves difficult but they manage, sliding back out from the bathroom to see how the others are doing.
Gavin’s unconscious as Jeremy walks back to the living room. His shoulder was wrapped up but everyone still looked worried over him, fussing around him. Jeremy doesn’t blame them, he had lost a lot of blood. They’ll still need to keep a close eye on him even if the wound was closed.
Geoff turns to Jeremy as they come back in, eyes narrowed and it makes Jeremy freeze and their heart sink.
It was their fault Gavin got hurt. It was because of them that they could have lost him. It’s grounds enough for Geoff to want them gone, want to kick them out or worse. Jeremy swallows under his gaze, starting to shake, in fear or pain or both they can’t tell.
But before Geoff could say anything, deliver his sentence, Jack appears, eyes knit in worry as she looks him over. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Jeremy says, the lie slipping past their lips before they can even think to stop himself. Relatively they’re fine, they tell themself. Compared to Gavin, they’re fine.
Jack doesn’t look convinced, not completely, but Jeremy still hides their stiffness, hides their labored breath as they go over to a chair and carefully sit down. “How’s Gavin?” they ask quietly, getting the focus away from them.
Jack sighs. “He’s going to be alright. The bullet didn’t hit anything major. Just barely missed breaking his bones.”
There’s an awful silence after that, as they all glance at Gavin. Watch his chest move up and down, slow. Quiet. “I’m sorry,” Jeremy breathes out.
“What do you mean?” comes Geoff’s gruff voice, piercing eyes to them. Jeremy has to look down, speak to their knees.
“I shot first,” they admit. “I know I wasn’t supposed to. They didn’t even have their guns fully out yet, were only just reaching for them and I… I panicked and shot. I started the shootout.”
“From the sound of it you had plenty of reason to,” Michael speaks up. “If they were going to shoot one of you, better you don’t give them the chance to.”
“I didn’t know for sure they were going to shoot,” Jeremy mutters. “I just saw one of them raising a gun and I shot. We were outnumbered, but I still did it anyway.”
“What happened after that?” Geoff finally speaks, making Jeremy shrink back more, even if Geoff’s tone was even.
“I kept shooting, but one of them hit Gavin in the shoulder. I got as many as I could before dragging Gavin out with me to the car. I’m not sure I got them all…”
Geoff sighs, a sound Jeremy is sure in disappointment. They should’ve tried to not let any survive, but they needed to get out of there. Needed to get Gavin somewhere safe.
The room fills with awful silence. Something strained in it as they watch Gavin breathe, body too pale, so much paler than he should be.
Jack finally moves, hands stained with blood that she goes to wash off. Jeremy can’t look at it. Instead, they sit back against the chair, trying to keep their breathing even, but it’s hard as the pain seems to only be increasing. A rib has to be cracked, there’s no way it hurts this much and it isn’t. Maybe Jeremy should find some bandages later and wrap it up. But they’re not even sure if they can get themself back up off the chair.
The others all start shuffling around, getting some food started and wrapping Gavin up in blankets on the couch. Then Jack comes back, footsteps pounding on the floor as they all see her pulled face.
“Is this your body armor?” Jack snaps, voice sharp but strained. Worried. In her hands she holds up Jeremy’s armor, bullets stuck in it, shining under the living room lights. Jeremy realizes they had just left it on the bathroom floor after changing out of it.
“…yes…” Jeremy mutters in response, hurting too much to shrink back from Jack’s intense gaze.
“What the fuck Jeremy?!” Comes Michael’s shout as he sees the bullets, knowing they would at least cause major bruising, if not worse. “I thought you said you didn’t get hurt!”
“I said I was fine!” Jeremy shouts back but then winces. Screaming was not helping their state.
“You’re not fucking fine!” Michael hisses, storming up to them and lifting their shirt up to see their chest, to expose the horrible bruises to the others. Jeremy tries to bury into the cushions of the chair as they all gasp.
“It looks worse than it is…” they try, but the others can all tell they’re lying, as their voice shakes and body grow paler.
“You’re supposed to tell us when you get hurt!” Michael retorts, dropping his shirt.
“I didn’t want to worry you, Gav needed to be helped first –“
“And exactly how long after Gavin being helped were you going to tell us?” This time Geoff’s sharp voice, again glaring at him.
“I don’t know…” Jeremy mumbles.
“Did you at least take some painkillers while you were in the bathroom?” Jack says as she digs around for more bandages.
“No –“
“What?!” Again Michael’s loud voice cuts through. “Have you gone completely fucking stupid on us? They were right there!”
“Gavin will need them more –“
“We have plenty to spare,” Jack says, pushing Michael aside and sitting besides Jeremy, bandages in hand. “It takes five minutes for us to get more. Michael, grab the idiot something for the pain. I’m going to make sure they didn’t break any of their ribs."
“Did you drive all the way here with your ribs hit like that?” Geoff says as Jack works on getting Jeremy’s shirt off, Jeremy hissing through their teeth.
“Had to get home –“ Jeremy utters, falling back and gritting in pain as Jack starts poking at their chest.
“You should’ve tried to call us to pick you up! It’s a fucking miracle you didn’t break a rib into your lungs!” Michael yells.
Jeremy can’t even retort, just groaning in pain as Jack continues to try to examine their chest and then more for any wounds she needs to wrap.
“Can’t fucking believe you!” Michael continues his rant, as he disappears into the bathroom, voice and stomping feet heard as he continues to his spew of curses. He returns moments later to hold out a pair of pills to Jeremy. Jeremy doesn’t refuse it this time, immediately taking them and swallowing them dry.
“There,” Jack says as she’s done examining them. “We need to get you laying down. And no more moving around. We’ll get the Docs in here later to properly check it out. But for now nothing seems broken.”
“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Michael grumbles, but he leans over and presses a kiss to their forehead, showing the more worried side of the anger.
“Next time, tell us when you’re hurt,” Geoff says, his face softer, eyes less intense.
“I’ll do my best,” Jeremy says, giving a small grin despite the pain.
Geoff sighs, shaking his head, but the small smile return tells enough. And Jeremy knows all is forgiven. “Let’s get you in bed,” Geoff says, pressing a gentle kiss to their cheek. “I think we all need a rest from the excitement of the day.”
“Next person who hides being hurt is getting fucking shot, I swear to God!” Michael says, regaining his rant as Geoff and Jack help Jeremy up.
Jeremy can only just smile, feeling better knowing their family isn’t that angry with them. Knowing their family is going to take care of all of them just fine.
#fake ah crew#fahc#ragehappy#ah ot5#ahot5#relatively unharmed rewrite#my writing#im so done with staring at this#just take it as is and hopefully its still enjoyable#there was honestly very little to edit Him out#the pronouns were much harder#but i hope it reads well!!
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