Tumgik
#which would be unfortunate and disappointing
bi-writes · 1 day
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what you want you cannot find. so you let someone else find it for you. (18+, dark!simon x curvy!fem!reader, arranged marriage)
you don't really know what you were thinking when you answered the ad. it is many things, maybe, why you chose to apply. why you were grateful to be chosen.
the loneliness, it aches. you cannot find yourself in anyone else, you cannot find the thing that should move you and hold you. you cannot find what it is that should ignite what is asleep, the thing nestled between your ribs that feels like it beats to a rhythm that you cannot hear.
the bitterness, too. there is something sour that you taste. there is acid under your tongue, something rotten between your teeth, and you wish for anything that you would stop tasting it because it reminds you of how alone you are, how alone you'll remain, the inevitable thing that you wish you weren't but that you unfortunately are.
it is the thing you cannot die for because there isn't anything to die for. you live, and you breathe, and you exist, but there isn't anything there. this is nothing that makes you want to gnaw on your own flesh, there is no life you would take in sake of another, there is no purpose to your existence except the hope that perhaps there is still time to have what you want more than anything.
but you don't know what you want. you don't know because everything that you thought you wanted, you do not want any longer. you never feel anything with other men. they are beneath you. they maim what they shouldn't. they complain about things that they can fix. they stare at a problem head-on, with the solution at their back, and they chase their tails. they do not know their right from their left. you hate them. but you want it. you want something. you want one of them, but you don't know which, so maybe if you don't choose, you will find what it is that you don't know you're looking for.
you're alone in the room. they gave you a bouquet of white roses. you hold them nervously between clammy palms. you wear a silk white dress that skims the floor, fabric falling soft over the curve of your waist and gentle along the swell of your cleavage. your hair is loose, and there is a short veil over your head, covering your face.
you stare at your handler. he's dressed in his military fatigues, tactical vest still strapped with the Union Jack across his chest. he has introduced himself as captain john price, and he is the one who arranged for your arrival. he is the one who told you to wear white, and he is the one who gave you the roses.
captain john price is rugged. captain john price is kind. and captain john price is not what you want. you are grateful that you are not yet disappointed with your match.
the door opens behind you. you straighten your posture that extra inch when you hear his heavy gait. there is a pause as the door shuts behind him, and you see his captain nod to a figure that you cannot see. his boots hit the floor low, and you swallow when the sunlight that comes through the window is blocked entirely by the size of him as he stands at your side.
the vows are short. you say your i do first, soft voice that hits his ears in a way that makes him nearly purr. when it is his turn to say i do, your eyes sparkle. he speaks in such a low voice, a Manchester accent that makes your toes curl in the white kitten heels that you wear. a drawl that you can feel in your chest, an accent that ticks a corner of your brain you did not know was there.
"you may kiss your bride."
you turn away from the captain. you tilt your head to look up at him, and you let out a soft breath when you realize the sheer breadth of this man.
he is barely a man. he must be something else. he is dressed all in black, and he wears all of his gear. his tactical vest is stocked well, magazines tucked into their pockets, a grenade dangling from one strap, a handgun tucked into its holster on his chest and around his thick thigh. his belt is heavy with more, knives in sheathes, devices in their places. even without all of the weight, you know the size of him won't shrink.
you cannot see his face. he covers it with a mask, one that resembles the front face of a skull. it is dirty. you aren't certain if it is blood or soot or dirt. maybe it is all of that and more. you cannot see his eyes through the veil either, but they are dark, and they are intense.
you keep your eyes fixed on his as he lifts your veil. the delicate fabric settles over your head, and you see him without obstruction.
there he is.
it is like seeing a man for the first time. it is like being in the presence of the dream you've always had and could never remember.
he tilts his head to the side, curious. he is seeing your face for the first time, too. soft eyes. glossy lips. the curve of your mouth. the untouched skin of your cheeks, the unmarred flesh that you wear. he follows the line of your throat to the peek of your tits dressed in silk. you are a present wrapped in luxury. hand delivered goods, of the finest quality.
his bride. his wife. something he will have forever. he does not know if he has ever been able to say that about anything else. he's never had anything except for his life. nothing except for himself has ever belonged to him, but even now, not even his life is his own, it belongs to someone far away, someone in an office somewhere, who moves the chess pieces of his world around, where he cannot do anything but follow.
you stand on your toes to get closer to him. he thinks for just a second you will ask him to remove his mask, but you don't. you cant your head, and you kiss him over the mask, sticky gloss leaving a light imprint on the fabric. you settle back onto your heels, and your breath hitches when one of his gloved hands comes to settle at the dip of your waist.
"she's all mine now, eh, cap'n?"
you blink, your eyes still on his. you don't move, and you don't say anything. you wonder, if you could see his face, if he would smile.
"all yours, simon."
you let him drag you closer, shuffling on your feet until your hips press against his. your back arches gently as he uses both hands, gripping you around the middle and feeling the soft flesh underneath your silk dress. he is a rabid dog, his next meal at his fingertips. she is his, and he wants to take her home. if his captain was not standing at his back, he knows he would take you on this very floor.
she is mine. she is mine. she is mine.
he has studied your picture. he has memorized your name. he has been waiting for you. he is too awkward to leave base. he is too quiet to attract birds, birds that matter, birds that sing. he is too ravenous to be anything but permanent, he isn't capable of the mundane, of casual. it is everything or nothing at all, and at the sound of permanence, he foamed at the mouth.
at the thought of something to keep, he was blinded. when beasts lose control, they call their keeper, and he had none. this change could be good. this change would do him well. when he ignores the order of a commanding officer, he will bend to yours, because he is bound, wrapped, tied to you with something invisible that weaves between his bones.
you do not know what you were before, but you know what you are now.
you follow after him. he turns to leave, and you let him lead. your heels click as you walk, and when it is hard for you to keep up, you reach for his hand. he grunts when you do, but he doesn't push you away. you hold wilting roses in one hand, and you clutch him in the other. recruits and privates stop to salute or step out of your way, and they stare when they see a trailing angel behind their lieutenant, a pretty girl in a pretty white dress with a veil fluttering against the breeze as you try and keep up with your husband's long strides.
the door he stops in front of is plain and unmarked. he fits a key into the lock, turning it and opening it, and he invites you over a threshold that no one else has ever stepped over. you stand on the other side, holding the roses to your chest. he turns when you don't follow him inside. you get a glimpse of him as a whole, the man that he is, big and menacing and taken. you wonder if he will wear his ring under his glove or if he will put it on the chain that holds his dog tags.
"is this where you live?" you ask. you stay on the other side, looking in, a little timid as you stand there.
he nods, silent. he crosses his arms over his chest, and you admire the bulge of them, the paint of skeleton bones along the fingers of his gloves. you look him up and down before smiling a little.
"is this where i will live, too?"
he shakes his head, a no.
"can't have a thing like y'here," he murmurs. "boys'll eat y'up."
you tilt your head to the side.
"i find that hard to believe," you quip. "do people often eat what's yours, lieutenant?"
he snarls, narrowing his eyes. "no one takes wot's mine."
"then what are you so afraid of?"
"that 'f y'r 'ere, i won't get any fuckin' work done."
you break out into a big smile, pearly white teeth flashing, and he clicks his tongue at your reaction. he reaches up and lifts his mask, pushing it up until it rests over his nose. his nose is crooked from being broken so many times. his face is scarred, as if someone took a blade and carved out the skin and muscle. a deep one stretches from somewhere under the mask to his lip, where it looks as if the skin was haphazardly stitched back together. another long jagged grey streak comes over the line of his cheek down his jaw, as if someone tried to peel his face off.
he grins. it's ugly and unsettling, as if he sees prey that he knows he will catch. your own smile does not fade. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you want to taste him. beast, bear, killing machine, the boogeyman, a ghost that haunts, you do not know exactly what he is, but you know, immediately, that he is what you have been searching for.
you do not know him. you do not love him yet, but you will. you are sure of this. you are sure that he is missing piece. he will fill the spaces that you have always felt hollow. he will scratch a place in your head that has always itched. there is something in his eyes, you're not exactly sure what it is, but you can't wait to discover it. you can't wait to explore, to indulge, to lick the salt of his skin and know that everything he is has been waiting for something like you.
you did not choose him, but he chose you, and now you see it clearly. you see this thing, and you know the truth of what's been hiding from you all your life. the curtain has been taken down. the veil is off. the walls are invisible.
"come 'ere," he says lowly. "won't ask so nicely next time."
you drop the flowers onto the floor, crossing the doorway. you kick the door shut, hearing it click, and he comes closer, until you can feel his breath fanning your nose.
"will you love me?" you ask, wringing your hands together nervously. "do you think maybe...do you think maybe that's possible?"
he licks over his teeth, humming. he leans down, knocking your chin up, and your breath hitches when he licks up the side of your jaw, taking in a whiff of your perfume and the sweetness of his bride.
"what a stupid word," he mutters, biting at the curve of your bottom lip. "meaningless. love. bloody hell."
"w-what...what?"
"a meaningless fuckin' word for the things i would do for ya," he continues. "the things i would kill. the heads i would step on. the sorry fucks i would get rid of...just to see y'smile."
your eyes flutter. yes, yes, yes--the unconditional devotion. the terrifyingly beautiful reality of through sickness and in health, until death do us part.
"is it really that easy, simon?" you ask. his gloved hands slip over your throat, sliding low and skimming the silk of your dress before he cups both sides of your ass and squeezes, drawing you closer until you are uncomfortably pressed up against him. his gear digs into your softness, sharp edges cutting into you, but you ignore it as he begins to draw up the skirt of your dress. "is it really that easy to say you'll do all of that for me? isn't it...it's wrong, isn't it? to do those things for me?"
he laughs. humorless, condescending. as if that is the stupidest thing you could have ever said.
"'s olright, swee'eart. gonna take all those ideas outta y'r pretty lil' head."
you relax when you feel his gloved hand under the hem of your white lace panties. your eyes shut, and you reach forward and grip his vest for stability.
"christ..." he hisses. "y'r soaked..."
you are. you have been since you first laid eyes on him, on everything he is. you know why you are here, and he knows why he is here, and that is because there were two people so desperate to find one another, that they let someone else choose. the gods, fate, whatever they want to be called.
matched by design, together by choice.
you lean forward and kiss beside his lips, and you whine when his big fingers slide between your folds, soft on your clit before he fits two fingers inside of you. his gloves are warm, and you wet them easily.
"wot a good girl," he breathes. "knew y'were the right one."
"y-you did?"
"could see it in y'r eyes, dove. could see wot y'needed. could see it plain as fuckin' day. dyin' inside, just like me, aye?"
you shake your head.
"n-not anymore...not anymore..." you gasp, and he tsks as he steps backward, the weight of him heavy as he takes a seat on his perfectly made bed, bringing you with him. you fall into his lap, unafraid to because you know someone of his size can carry you easily, and he hums as you spread your thighs apart. you straddle him, pressed up against the gun holstered to his chest, and you moan softly against his scarred face as he fucks you open with three unforgiving fingers.
"not anymore," he echos, baring his teeth as he pumps his hand. the squelch of it is filthy, but it isn't enough. he wants you to soak his arm, his thighs, his bed, let the slick of you stain him from the outside in. "not anymore. not as my wife."
you scramble. you rip the veil out of your hair, untie the corset of your dress. there's a naked angel in his lap, perky tits and soft figure, giving way to the gorgeous place you keep hidden by white, wet lace. the place that is his, the place that belongs to him, a pretty pussy that will keep him satiated until he breathes no longer.
after he tears apart his enemy, he will have you. after he tastes the blood he desires to see run, he will have you. the adrenaline, the fire, the shout of every order and the sound of their cries, it won't exist anymore in this place, he knows it.
"y'll never want for anythin'," he mutters. "y'll never be lonely. always get wot y'want...wot y'need...wot y'deserve..."
you reach up and cup his cheeks gently, pressing your mouth to his as you ride his fingers eagerly. you want him, you want this, you want all of it, even if it isn't what's right. but something brought you here, right into his arms, and this is what you deserve.
he's not even human, you don't think. he must be something else. with how good he makes you feel, with the sheer precision that he rocks his fingers into you, the way he smiles, he must be made of only something synthetic, something not organic.
you feel so small underneath him. he tosses you onto the bed, your head hitting the pillow gently. you giggle, and his grin widens. he has a warm pink tongue, and it's between his teeth, and you giggle again when he moves his head from side to side, staring down at you. he's studying you. you assume he has seen photos of you, but this is his first time seeing his bride for all that she is. soft, pretty, unscathed by war. at least on the outside--but on the inside, you are not as you seem.
there's a parasite in you. something that slithers behind your eyes and settles in that corner of your brain that only he can touch. he knows that feeling well. he feels it every time he is in the field, and he feels it now, with you. he chases this tick when he works. it knocks his senses just right, makes him feel good and big, like the reaper that he really is. he can be this with a rifle in his hand, and he can be this without it, with the weight of his wife in his hands.
you smile, biting your lip, and you spread your legs for him. his eyes fall between your thighs, and he chuckles. he brings his gloved hand up to his mouth, the one that smells like you, and you watch as he slips it inside, sucking on it for a moment before he uses his teeth to take both gloves off.
he bends, still in all his military glory, and he sticks his tongue out, licking a fat stripe up the seam of your cunt, using one thumb to pull the puffy lip apart and suckle on your clit for just a moment.
you gasp, arching your back, and he stands to his full height again, laughing.
"oh, y'taste sweet," he purrs. "y'taste good. hard t'believe i'll have this cunny for m'whole fuckin' life."
"believe it, baby," you coo, and he sighs. he nods his head, reaching low, gripping himself through his cargo pants and squeezing his cock. you follow his movements, watching him pay special attention to the tip of him, running his finger over where you guess the slit is as he watches you squirm. "why are you so far away, simon? don't you want me?"
he laughs again, smiling wide, and he nods.
"course i want ya, swee'eart. who wouldn't want ya, huh? who wouldn't want this?"
you meet his eyes. the question is a sound one, but it never mattered that you were wanted, what mattered is that you never wanted. not really. not until now.
you watch him as he reaches for his zipper. he undoes it easily, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them low. they won't go very low, thanks to the holsters around his thighs, but it's enough that you watch his cock stand at attention, the red tip of him leaking down the sides, making the bulging vein on the underside of him shine.
you whine a little, and he growls happily, watching as you cup the swell of your tits and squeeze them in anticipation. perfect, perfect, perfect girl, practically a mail-order bride that checks every single fucking box.
he grips you by the thighs, yanking you to the edge of the bed. you whimper when he slides the tip through your folds, letting it catch at the entrance before smirking down at you.
"'s big," you hiccup, and he tsks, shaking his head.
"y'can take it, swee'eart," he murmurs. "y'r a riley now, luvvie. y'know what tha' means?" you shake your head, your eyes a little watery, and he smooths a hand up your sternum, gripping you around the throat gently. "gonna find out...gonna find out how well a riley takes wot they're given."
"simon--"
"'s alright, luv, we'll start nice, yeah?" he breathes. you grip onto his forearms when he feeds you his cock, slowly, and your back bows at a sharp angle as you squeeze him for everything he is. "fuckin' hell...yeah, just the tip, yeah? oh, good girl..."
good girl, yeah...i'm a good girl--
you cry out, digging your nails into him when he mutters fuck it and bottoms out. his palm flattens just under your belly button, a choked groan leaving him as he presses down, a rush of something fucking glorious running down his spine. it's a high--he's so fucking high, as if he is popping fucking pills.
"feel me here, yeah?" he drags his hips back, smoothing a hand further up your stomach until he paws one of your tits, squeezing it firmly. you nod, sliding your hands up his arms, fisting the fabric of his mask at the base of his neck. you feel him everywhere, you feel him in your chest, running down your spine, you feel him in your mouth and in your head, and it feels so good, it feels so so so so good.
"yes--yes!" you gasp. fuck, he's huge, he's putting a shadow over you. you're naked, bare underneath him, and his gear rocks with every thrust, and it's filthy because you wonder if he worked, you wonder if he didn't even change before he went to marry his perfectly-picked bride, you wonder if he got off the tarmac not even an hour after killing his target to go and take what is his.
how long ago was it that he last fired his weapon? the gun on his chest, did he use it before he saw you?
i bet he did. i bet he used it. i bet he smoked the cigarette that i smell on him, and i bet he came here, and then he married me, and now he's all mine, and he's fucking me six ways to fucking sunday--
you think you're drooling. your lips are wet, and with every smack of his hips against yours, you feel a little more trickle down the side of your face. you're moaning, gripping his neck, pulling him further down on top of you. you want him all around you, you want him inside, you want him to come every day wearing this terrifying fucking uniform and to fuck you so stupid, you forget everything except for the name he has given you.
you want to know nothing except for his name. simon. riley. simon. riley.
you want to know nothing except for what you are. his wife. his wife. his wife.
it's so hard to remember to breathe. his hands grip you tight around the hips, and he's losing momentum, hissing, letting out choked groans as he brands the shape of his cock into you. he never wants you to forget what he feels like--he never wants you to know anything except for him, for the rest of your life.
"simon--" you whine, and he smirks, reaching up to hold your face in one big hand, keeping you still as you chase the grind of his pelvis against your puffy clit. "simon--!"
"tha'sit, luvvie...yeah..." he nods, "look at me--look at me," he leans down, a big weight over you, suffocating you, "good girl, yeah..." he clicks his tongue, "cum f'me, swee'eart. cum f'y'r husband, yeah?"
you lean up, chasing after him, gripping onto the sides of his face as you kiss him hard. it is the first time you really kiss him. slotting your mouth over his, slipping your tongue into his mouth, the sting of your wedding ring cooling his warm face as you taste him for the very first time.
it is gone. the bitterness that you always taste, the acid and the sourness and everything that always is so unpleasant under your tongue, it is gone when you have him. he takes it out of your mouth completely, and you chase after this just as you chase after the harsh grind of your clit against his pelvis.
he is carrying you. you're lifting, coming over some kind of sweet, exhilarating euphoria, and you're blinded by it, by the feeling, by him. you want more, more, you want it all, and he said you could have anything you want, that you'll never need anything ever again, he said, he said, he said--!
he laughs when you come. he swallows your moans, hisses when you soak his pants. you are the prettiest thing he could ever hope for, the personification of the things he does not deserve and could never have, and it is selfish that he has taken you this way, but he does not fucking care.
the things we cannot have are the sweetest, the most desirable. and simon is nothing if he isn't a thief.
he is nothing if he doesn't just take what he wants. he likes to think that perhaps he adopts the "ask for forgiveness, and not for permission" philosophy, but he does not ask for forgiveness. and he has never asked for permission.
"please--simon--" you gasp, looking up at him. your eyes are wet, and a few tears wet his hand around your face. "please--inside me, please..."
"'s olright, luv--" he grunts, pumping faster, his pretty little wife just begging for him, for more, and how could he say no to that? "easy, baby...i'll give it t'ya, don't worry, fuck--" he hisses, "lieutenant's wife gets woteva she wants..."
"please--inside--" you choke. "simon, inside, i-i want it inside--"
fuck, that is all he needed. he nestles deep, pressing his hips to yours, and you kiss him once more when you go blind again. a second high, when he stuffs you full. just as you should be. just as you always should be.
"yeah, fuck--" he breathes. "tha' wot y'wanted, yeah? nice and full, good girl..." he licks his lips, standing up straight, and just when you think he is pulling out, he yanks you back towards him, cum leaking down your thighs as you cry out from being so sensitive.
"simon!" you gasp, giggling, and he grins, patting your ass gently before pulling out. you let your knees fall onto the cot, swallowing hard as you watch him tuck himself back into his pants and zip them up. he brings the mask back down, and you watch as he slips his gloves back on. "hmm..."
he tilts his head to the side, sighing as he watches you settle there. something warm settles in his stomach, something satisfied.
"like havin' y'in my bed," he says lowly. "look nice there."
you smile, and he holds out one hand, beckoning you to sit up. you do, slowly, a little shaky as you try and compose yourself, and he leans down and kisses you through the mask. you close your eyes, humming, leaning into his touch.
"so i can stay?" you ask, and he chuckles.
"mmm...y'r so cute, luvvie..." he rumbles. "a doll, yeah? can't say no to ya."
you look down at the ring on your finger, a solid gold band complete with a precious diamond. you will have to get used to this--you are his wife, you can ask things of him, and you don't think he'll say no.
you look up at him when he tosses something at you. an army green shirt of his, and you slip it on, letting the fabric fall, and you lay back down in his cot as he moves around his room. you lay in comfortable silence, watching as the thing that calls himself your husband looks for files on his desk, adjusts the gun strapped to his thigh, shuffles his boots across the linoleum. you are mesmerized by what he is, and you haven't known him even a day.
you don't believe this is your vision askew. the honeymoon phase. the sugary sweet moments in time at the beginning where nothing is wrong, where all is well. simon riley is a practical man. he does not lie. he does not do things he does not want to do, and he does not say things he does not want to say. he is not in the business of comfort and ease, that much is clear to you.
simon riley is practical and resourceful. you think maybe he counts his words. that he doesn't say more than he has to. waste his energy on things that don't require it.
his wife. i'm his wife. his wife.
"why..." you swallow. "why...why did you pick me?"
he pauses as he stands in front of a locker. when he opens it, you see shelves of personal weapons stashed away, handguns of different sizes and shapes, knives of differing steel, toys that with a small push of a finger could destroy whatever building they went off inside. you don't flinch, don't blink, don't feel fear. you don't know why, but you just don't. you don't think it's possible.
he doesn't look at you as he surveys what lines the walls of it.
"just knew y'were the one f'me, swee'eart," he mutters. he shuts the locker, and the lock clicks. he comes closer, twirling a small blade between his fingers, and you don't cower away when he flicks it towards you, holding your chin up with the sharp tip of it. he hums appreciatively at this. "in all honesty, had no idea really until i saw ya, 'f you'd be mine."
he bends down, leans close, and you follow the curve of the blade with your head, keeping your eyes on his. there is no timidness in your gaze, and for that, he beams under the mask. perfection in one woman.
"and what would you have done if i wasn't the one?"
he shrugs.
"would've killed ya, luv."
"just like that?"
"just like tha'."
the tip of his blade drags, sliding up the length of your throat, along the line of your jaw. your lips part as he traces your mouth with it, and you tilt your head to the side as you trace the edge of it with your tongue. he leans forward more, pressing his forehead to yours, and you can see where the eye-black around his eyes fades into his pale skin under the balaclava. you see yourself in those eyes. the you that you have been waiting for. the you that you have missed for your entire life. the you that has been hiding, too scared to come out, too afraid of what might be said if someone saw the real you.
she had not been hiding. just lying dormant, in someone else, waiting for you to come home.
you smile, big, and simon presses his mouth to yours again through the mask, kissing you there, growling from deep in his chest, a purr that only emanates the contentment and the relief he feels because he has found that thing to live for. it is so easy to die. it is so easy to give oneself for what they believe. it is not hard to give the best of yourself away, he knows that.
what he has never been able to do is find something that will keep him alive. he has only ever lived because he found dying pathetic. he found it cowardly. but the alternative had been just as unforgiving, just as unfulfilling. but not this. not you.
you will make it difficult to die. you will make death a challenge. and when he eyes that smile, this one that you give only to him, he is happy to be given this new objective.
"but don't worry y'r pretty head about all tha', luv."
you give him those eyes, and he drinks it all in, all that you are. finally, finally, finally--
"until death do we part, yeah?"
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ducklooney · 3 days
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Darkwing Duck reboot by Frank Angones and Matt Youngberg
Aside from what I think about the Ducktales reboot as well as the Darkwing Duck reboot, which is a completely separate story, I found leaked Disney projects that talk about the Darkwing Duck reboot. Of course, this is Angones' plan to continue the Ducktales reboot in the form of Darkwing Duck, until Disney gave another man, Seth Rogen, to make a special Darkwing Duck reboot that will not look like this.
These are just the original plans for how Darkwing Duck was supposed to turn out, starring Drake Mallard, Launchpad McQuack and Gosalyn Mallard, and villains like Negaduck (Jim Starling), Quackerjack, Megavolt, Bushroot, Liquidator and Mark Beaks. And there would be Gizmoduck, Honker, Herb and Binkie Muddlefoot. Please enjoy reading and sorry if I disappointed anyone.
Yes, unfortunately for fans of Ducktales 2017, this project was not accepted in the end, so the Darkwing Duck reboot (the question of exactly when) will look very different.
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lurkingshan · 2 days
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Unknown Episode 11
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Well, let me get this out of the way upfront. This episode brought us to the big moment we've all been waiting for, the final turn in Yuan and Qian's relationship--and unfortunately, it didn't quite land.
I've been sitting with this episode, contemplating my disappointment with the first sequence, and I think it comes down to this show that has been so assured and confident through most of its run faltering at the crucial moment and seeming to lose faith in its own storytelling to the point that it used editing tricks to compensate. The choice to chop up and sequence this narrative lynchpin of a scene out of order is baffling, and it's a choice that significantly stepped on the most important emotional climax of the story. I was confused to go from the conversation outside to a sudden kiss, then disappointed when we cut back to a very short exchange between Qian and Yuan that was supposed to provide the basis for this turn with only some thin dialogue that didn't connect the beats of the scene, and then into an intense sexual encounter (that was constantly interrupted by repetitive flashbacks) that should have felt like a triumphant and revelatory moment but didn't because of the way we got there.
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I know I'm not the only one feeling that way, since folks have been creating and distributing reedited versions of the scene, and Youku actually uploaded a new version free on YouTube with all the flashbacks removed (a clear move toward fan appeasement after the show received a lot of negative feedback on the scene). The editing and the flashbacks were annoying, but honestly the fundamental problem was the scene they wrote did not sufficiently sell the change for Qian--he goes from saying he is still not certain what he wants to being ready to be dicked down in a couple minutes' time, with nothing in the exchange providing any new information or impetus for the shift. The performers did great work but unfortunately the writing and directing and editing decisions around this sequence were just bad; it's frustrating for this to happen with arguably the most important scene of the romance.
A note about the novel: the way this final turn happened there was quite different and, candidly, better in just about every way, from the impetus for the change to the beats of the revelation to the progression of physical intimacy on a pace that felt much more attuned to the emotional complexities at play. I do not know why the show did...this when they had better source material content to work with, but here we are. I absolutely recommend that anyone who loves this show read it!
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So, with that disappointment expressed, on to the rest of the episode, in which Yuan and Qian settled into their couple era. I was deeply amused by Qian taking to their sex life like a moth to a flame to the point of daydreaming in meetings, but I do wish the episode had focused more on the natural tension and role confusion that should have resulted from this huge shift in their relationship. They touched on that a bit in the scene where Yuan asked Qian if his hug was from his brother or his boyfriend, but they didn't delve into those complexities in the way I hoped they would. I enjoyed their date at the local restaurant (and loved their friendly neighborhood gangster helping to set the mood) and how much it felt like they were surrounded by their history as they moved through all of these familiar locations where they've had important moments. I didn't much care for the insertion of the health scare plot or the time spent on Le and the doc, though I'm always happy for more Sam Lin even if it comes in the form of a weird late stage and wholly unnecessary ship.
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My favorite scene between Yuan and Qian in this episode was far and away the discussion on the stairs with Qian reflecting on his fears of becoming more like his mother and Yuan biting him to snap him out of his fatalistic attitude (this felt like such a classic Priest tribute, she always has biting in her romances). It was a helpful re-centering of what they do for each other and why Yuan is an important presence in Qian's life. I didn't think we needed the health scare for Qian, but I did love Qian choosing to go to this place where he found Yuan to contemplate his life and what matters, with Yuan in turn reflecting that even though he's seen a lot more of the world now, he still prefers to come home to this street. I found that exchange so moving and I think it was important for Qian to hear that.
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And that scene led to my other favorite thing in this episode, which was everything to do with Lili and her bond with her brothers. I teared up to see her standing against the wall where Qian has measured their growth talking about the sneaky ways she would try to care for Qian when they were younger, with San Pang listening attentively and gazing at her adoringly. It was such a small moment, but a really lovely window into their relationship dynamic and the shared history they also have together. And when Yuan and Qian came in hand in hand and she just ran to them and offered up her love and acceptance, I felt so much warmth for this family and everything they've survived together.
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screamingcrows · 2 days
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Change of Pace - Dottore x reader
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Note: Same reader as Tomorrow and all that. Approximately three weeks after 'Tomorrow'. "Fuck it all" *softens your Dottore*. I need this man to kiss my hand or I will murder someone. Keep this out of character ai bots or I'm sending you all Taenia solium eggs
Tags: fem reader, reader from Fontaine, burnout, overworked, soft, very mild gore (mentions taking brain samples), comfort, fluff, they're both bad at this
MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI
Your samples were long past saving by now. How long had you been staring at the plate containing the biopsies, twenty minutes? The light was burning through your vision, making everything swim in your mind. But it was needed for the fixation in the next step. If you ever made it that far.
Hours of work, wasted because of your own inability. The clatter caused by your head hitting the table echoed ruthlessly while you fought off images of a dismayed Dottore. One thing was anger, disappointment was another matter entirely.
Maybe doing tissue analysis of your own brain would've been more valuable, at least then someone might figure out what was wrong with it.
A hand wrapped around yours, gently prying open your fingers before taking the scissors away. Sight was unnecessary to discern the owner as only a single other warm body frequented this section. Your eyes remained shut, now empty hand feeling along the table for its previous quarry.
If nothing else, dead samples could still be used verify that the technicalities worked, even if the data would be misleading.
"You're barely lucid, in which case I'd prefer if this waited until tomorrow. You're supposed to be handling raimei angel extracts later in the protocol, and stunning yourself would be unfortunate," Dottore was clearly trying, voice so uncharacteristically gentle it felt all manners of wrong.
It only made you sigh in desperation, how hard he was trying compared to you, his dedication unwavering regardless of the objective he put forward.
"I'm fine, I just need a moment. You wanted the initial assessment this week," your voice was muffled enough that it would hopefully hide the exhaustion.
The low chuckle he let out caused a shiver to run down your spine. It was something he'd done more as of late, a pleasant change of pace since the talk. You could almost see the charming smile that would no doubt accompany it, the glittering light in eyes you'd been fortunate enough to glimpse once.
There was no time to open your eyes and check, a warm palm coming to rest on the back your head. The light tremble in his hands made your chest tighten so long as you imagined it to be caused by worry instead of damage.
"You've been staring at nothing for an hour, hardly the best use of your time, and certainly not an indication of someone who is 'fine'."
An hour? Oh, the samples were beyond salvageable if that was true. Everything would've died in the wells by now. A pit dug itself out in your heart, tearing at what had otherwise reluctantly been dedicated to the harbinger. Thoughts of disaster were many, magnitude rivaling divine intervention according to what little remained awake of your consciousness.
Dottore was tugging at your wrist, hand swallowing yours with ease. For being a scholar, his hands spoke of a much different past than others bearing the same title. Another question that would at other times stoke the embers of your curiosity.
Did he want you to stand? Begrudgingly, your body attempted to follow where he lifted your arm. At the feeling of warm lips pressed to your wrist your eyes flew open in disbelief. The visage was the closest to divinity you'd ever gaze upon, in this fact alone were you without doubt. From where you were, the light behind him formed a halo, illuminating his tousled hair. His eyes were closed in silent devotion for but a moment.
Without the beaked mask, he was a completely different man. The large burn that covered a quarter of his face drew your attention first, but it was the crinkles around his eyes that made him look so painfully human.
"You are in no condition to work, this can bear to wait a day or two," his voice remained steady, the only thing you could safely cling to, too lost in committing to memory what he showed of himself.
"Are you certain, Dottore? If I just… ninety minutes of rest, a full cycle should be enough and then I can start over. We still have-"
"We still have plenty of time, dear. I told you, this isn't my most pressing project, so working you to the brink of destruction would be folly."
And that was enough to pacify you. The fact that he'd used a term of endearment, however questionable the choice, kept you smiling through the familiar corridors of the Palace, tucked securely under his arm and away from view. Under any other circumstance, this would've felt humiliating, but for today there was no fight left, only a dull yearning that had tears prickling your eyes.
It never became more than dozing off against him on a couch in his chambers. But that was enough, the heat from his body and his low mumbling while he read from a book soothed your frayed nerves.
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Universal Tongue
Pairing: Shigadabi
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Commissioned by @norsetenko, Dabi has been the science officer on the ESV: Ingenuity for three years, their vessel currently undertaking a five-year-long exploratory surveying mission. He never tires of going to new planets and seeing new things, though it's usually from a distance in the initial sweeps. But the jungle on this one is too thick for their rovers or drones to breach, which means he has the rare opportunity to go planet-side himself to collect his samples. Unfortunately for him, a heavy storm rolls in fast, and his pod is trapped in the mud.
Fortunately for him, there is a cave system nearby to take shelter in. And very, very fortunately, the strange reptilian humanoid who lives there is open to negotiating sharing his shelter for the time being.
Contents: Absolutely inaccurate sci-fi bullshit, language barrier, voice kink, brief descriptions of violence, anal sex, oral sex, xenophilia, non-human genitalia, double penetration, organic lube, oral fixation, tail fucking, grinding, cumming untouched, multiple orgasms, wet and messy, size difference
Word Count: 19,435
The ESV: Ingenuity has been his home away from home for three years. Exovin Explorations became his home at eighteen when he decided that even being on the same planet as his father and his constant belittling was too close. He put up with it getting so much worse for the two years that it took for him to study, improve his health, and eventually apply and test to join the program. It had been a grueling process to train his body, heavily scarred and stapled together from when he'd gotten into one of the labs at the Endeavor Institute of Interstellar Advancements and had gotten caught up in a volatile reaction. But he put everything he had into doing it, and had made it.  And the day he'd gotten his acceptance letter, Toya had packed his shit and left.
He went through his basic training, broke off into his specialized training, and at twenty, he had been assigned to the crew and the ship he would be acting as the Science Officer on. Burning the letter that had been addressed to him from his father trying to make him 'give up on a stupid dream' and go back home to at least be somewhat useful at his father's company, had earned him the callsign 'Dabi' and he had all but put 'Toya Todoroki' into the flames too. His official ID doesn't even say 'Toya' anymore, and of the names that he could have gotten saddled with, he's really not begrudging Dabi as his new one. 
"You almost ready, Dabi?" Spinner's voice crackles through the earpiece that's already comfortably in place as he finishes making sure that his suit is fully sealed from head to toe, and his full case of equipment is in order. At least he didn't end up with a name because everyone watched him fuck up the calibrations for one of their machines to the point it spun so fast it nearly decapitated someone. 
"Yeah, I'm doing final checks." He responds. 
Compress's voice crackles through next. "The radar is showing a forming stormfront about ninety miles off." 
"Are we postponing?" He doesn't really do a good job of keeping the slight disappointment out of his voice. The only reason he's getting to go down to the surface of this planet ahead of schedule is because the jungle biome that stretches across the southeastern quadrant of this continent has such dense vegetation that none of their rovers have been able to get in, and the canopy is too dense for their other sensors to scan. So far there haven't been any signs that the planet wouldn't be habitable to humans, but until every section is cleared, they're not supposed to go down to start cataloging anything for possible use. This mission got special clearance and Dabi always loves taking his first step onto a new planet, so he was excited to get to do so before everyone else. 
"No, it's still a ways off and it seems pretty localized, just collect the early samples." There's a wry warning in that tone, because it's been three years and the rest of the team on Ingenuity knows that he can, and will, immediately get distracted by any alien flora or fauna that he sees that is especially different from anything he's ever seen before. 
"... Am I still being dropped off in the lake?" Based on their scans, that's the only place that he can get dropped if they don't want him to have to hike into the jungle himself. He chooses not to comment on the warning as he ensures that he has his extra case of specimen jars just in case. 
"Yes." But he can practically hear Compress rolling his eyes.
"Cool," He secures his gear and gets into the single-person pod and straps in. "Starting launch procedures." 
It still takes another couple of minutes for his vessel to be lowered out of the belly of their ship. They've been holding just outside the gravitational pull of the upper atmosphere for the better part of two weeks now, and Dabi is excited to get to watch the descent out of the windshield as the pod slips lower and lower, into the cloud layer and then beneath it. The path that Compress programmed for his descent is smooth, though he does see the dark clouds and crackling lightning of the distant storm raging as he goes. 
It only takes a few minutes for his pod to be half-submerged in the lake, and with just a few flicks of switches across his control panel, it is starting to putter to the nearest shore. When he gets to the shoreline, another switch is able to get the mechanical legs to unfold from the chassis and bring it just up to the tree line before he checks in again, "Landed without issues. I'll be disembarking to collect air, soil, and water samples." He says mostly for the official logs. Then he pushes his luck just a bit. "Should I set up a collection container to try and get a sample of the rain in case it gets here?" 
Compress sighs. "We'll see. It's going to depend on how fast the storm moves. Be careful." 
"You got it, Cap." 
He disembarks with his specimen bag in tow and starts by collecting some of the rich earth that's on the bank of the lake. One of the best things that he's learned since he started training for this position is that life on other planets, no matter how strange it is, is also all so similar to one another. Planets with carbon-based lifeforms, which is Exovin's primary interest, are all made of the same building blocks no matter what else has changed. In the soil he takes from the bank, he sees that it's mixed with clay, and when he moves up a little closer to the tree line, he's greeted with with plants with pale woody trunks and tall splayed branches, though the leaves on this planet are extremely dark-- nearly black-- and fanned out in large bunches. The shape is different, the color darker than anything he'd ever seen on Earth, but he knows that he'll find cells in these leaves that aren't all that different to what he would find on Earth.
The little insects that he finds skittering around are all mostly clinging to those trees, steadily making their way upward to find a feast in those dark canopies, and the sounds of life filter in from every inch of the world around him. The buzzing of flying insects, the distant songs of birds that have chirps and whistles lower and longer than the ones that he's heard before, and the rustling of leaves above that make it abundantly clear that there are other creatures moving around in the foliage. He begins to take his samples, letting the pack on his hip begin to run a diagnostic on the makeup of the air. The gravity, according to their tests, is about one percent higher than the gravity on Earth, but it's not really noticeable as he moves around. Gathering the samples he was supposed to take is easy and quick, he's finished in twenty minutes before he asks for clearance to set up a way to collect water from the rain. 
He tries to find a spot that hopefully won't be too intrusive and begins to set that up as well before Compress's voice crackles in through his speaker again, "That stormfront is starting to move and it's picking up speed. Finish up what you're doing and return to the ship." 
"Got it." He doesn't dilly dally, though he wants to. He's the first human to ever set foot on this planet; he cannot be blamed for being curious and wanting to catalog literally everything he finds. They have another nine planets in their quadrant that they're supposed to finish doing these initial surveys on over the course of the next two years, and then they'll report all of their findings back to Exovin and return home for a year of rest and reevaluation. After that, they'll hopefully be given clearance to go to the planet that seemed the most likely to be able to sustain interplanetary resources and spend a few years there where he'll be able to explore and catalog new life to his heart's content. But for now, this little jaunt will have to do. He finishes up and starts to move back in the direction of his pod as he starts to hear the distant crackle of thunder. 
He's just stepping out onto the bank as a cavalcade of movement starts to come from alongside it and Dabi half tucks back into the trees to hide from whatever creatures are trying to take cover from the oncoming storm. The beasts that come through have six legs, and he's guessing they stand nearly as tall as a giraffe, their eyes are set into the sides of their skulls and their bodies have long, irregular stripes of white and gray across them, the color darkening and growing more solid as it reaches their heads which must be up in the canopy most of the time. The herd of nearly a dozen of them are moving fast as they go, and for a minute, Dabi is caught up in the majesty of seeing a species that it's possible no one else has ever seen before. 
And then they plow into his pod. 
"Shit!"
"Dabi? What's happening? Your pod just sent a distress signal--" Spinner's voice comes through sharply worried, but Dabi is just wincing as he watches the herd of megafauna trample his pod into the thick clay at the bank of the lake. He doesn't dare try to shoot them or set off an alert out of fear of starting a full stampede, and instead resigns himself to watching the metallic structure sink a third of its body into the earth. The pods are sturdy machines and he flicks a heads up display to switch to a live feed to show the rest of the crew on the Ingenuity what's happening. 
"Oh dear." Compress's voice sounds as shocked as Dabi feels, but then he starts to troubleshoot as the herd moves on and Dabi chances slipping back across the freshly trodden earth to get a look at his poor pod. "Spinner, are any systems reporting significant damage?" 
"No, it looks like everything is still intact, but two of the legs are wedged into its body like this. I might be able to remotely activate the third to try and dig it out, but I'm not sure." 
Dabi moves around to the side of the pod that may be able to help-- "The foot is underground on this side too." He warns before the other can activate it and make the situation worse. "I'll dig out this side and we'll go from there?" 
"You need to get inside for now," Compress tells him. "The storm is moving fast, the winds are charting at category four." 
"I can't get in," the pod would be the safest place to take shelter, "The hatch is buried--" he takes out one of the smaller drones that he has in his kit and launches it, sending it to scan between the trees and the rest of the area, looking for shelter for him. His readout is more simplistic than the ones they should be getting back on the ship and in a matter of minutes, he's seeing a strange blob of a structure about half a mile from the lake. "Is that a mountain range or a cave system?" 
"Both," Compress tells him. "It's the only enclosed structure within walking distance-- Do you think you can make it there?" 
Thunder rolls through the sky and Dabi's chilled just from how that noise has silenced the insect and birdsong. "Yeah, moving now." He has supplies to last him a week in his pack, just in case of something like this, and he knows how to set up for basic survival in case of situations like this, he'll be fine. He starts to make his way through the jungle again, having to turn on his headlamp even though he hates making himself a beacon for predators. He doesn't have a choice if he doesn't want to make this whole situation even worse by breaking an ankle tripping on a root. 
Dabi moves as quickly as he's able to through the foliage, but it still takes him ten minutes to find the cave system he's being guided to, and by that time, the rain has already started to fall thick and heavy. He ducks inside of the opening, large enough that he's got at least another six feet before hitting the ceiling, and calls his little drone back to him from where it must have been scanning the full system. The little bot takes a few minutes to come back as he checks in with the others on the ship. 
"I'm here, looks like it's high enough that hopefully it won't end up flooded with the rain." 
"Alright, good, it looks like there might be some thermal vents deeper down, so make sure to run a full air quality test before you remove your helmet-- if you need to." 
"Got it." He moves a few yards deeper into the cave and then does get out his on-site testing kit and starts to test the air quality and the soil and water samples he'd gotten from near the lake. If rainfall like this is common, then those samples should show him if there's anything particularly dangerous for him if he's exposed. 
It takes about twenty minutes for him to determine that the air is breathable and that the rainfall must be something truly torrential during these storms from the minerals he finds that have been deposited in the water through the erosion of stone. But it's not dangerous in it of itself. This is a perfectly habitable planet for humans and at least twenty three of the seventy eight cataloged species who work with Exovin. Spinner, a gecko-like humanoid called a Varqix, would actually love this part of the planet based on the temperature and humidity levels.  
Dabi takes off his helmet and cuts off his oxygen tanks to ensure that he doesn't waste what he has, just in case, as he sends that information back up to the ship. He settles in to watch the storm and run any other tests that he can on what he's gathered so far. He doesn't know how long this will last, but at the very least he can be productive while it's going. 
///
It's been about two hours with the sky still a riot of activity drenching the planet below, when Dabi's proximity scanners built into his suit start to beep. He glances up at the mouth of the cave, turning on the flashlight built into his wrist to see if there is a creature that calls this place home that he needs to be mindful of. But there's nothing at the entrance. He reluctantly turns to the deeper darkness of the cave and shines his light there, but he doesn't see anything coming from that direction either. The proximity alarm goes off more insistently, and Dabi hates every atom in the universe that has led him to this point as he preemptively brings a hand slowly and shakily to cover his mouth before he takes a timid breath and looks up towards the cavern ceiling. 
The hand was a good call, because even anticipating something being there, does not let him fully trap the scream that tries to tear out of his throat as that ring of light falls over the edge of the creature watching him from the ceiling. The alien is clinging to the rock, its skin as pale as the tree bark outside, and easily ten feet tall, and even longer than that as he sees its long serpentine tail coiling around one of his legs and across the irregular cragginess of the cavern. Its head is swiveled around to look down at him, solid red eyes from lid-to-lid save for the dark spot of his pupils. It's definitely a reptilian species, given the more slitted nostrils that are part of his nose and the longer slits that extend his mouth past the place it should naturally close at the corners. The creature opens its mouth and puts two rows of wickedly sharp teeth and that exaggeratedly large mouth on display in a frankly terrifying show, but Dabi has training for this.
He fumbles to push the button on the neck of his suit, and before the creature can drop down to hurt him. The speaker in his suit crackles to life and it starts to chirp out different ways of saying 'safe' in as many languages as Exovin has been able to register throughout the decades of interstellar travel. It takes about nine of them before they hit one that has the creature tilting its head and clicking back lowly. His translator locks onto those sounds and the earpiece he's wearing hums back to life. 
"What are you doing in my den?" The speaker translates the low growls and chuffs that make up this creature's language and the sound that his translator chooses to use is rude, frankly. The creature was already terrifying as it lowers itself from the ceiling. His body is mostly humanoid and densely muscled, his hands and feet ending with four digits on each, though his hands have one finger that is longer than the rest that seems armored, all of the appendages having wicked talons on them. Long white hair spills across the creature's scalp, reaching across its face, over its shoulders, and halfway down its back. Its long tail slithers languidly across the ground towards Dabi's things and he does his very best not to flinch as his translator takes in the language sample it's received and extrapolates a bit more to work off of from the language that the creature seemed to recognize. 
"I'm sorry to intrude," he starts carefully. The creature tilts its head to the side slightly as his translator parrots the words back in its own attempts at this guttural language, though it doesn’t make his voice as deep as the speaker made the creature’s. "I got caught in the rain and was looking for somewhere safe to stay. I don't mean you any harm." 
The creature listens, and then responds, "Do you feel safe here, little one?" 
Dabi does his best not to bristle, not wanting to potentially get himself into any more trouble. "From the weather? Very." 
It tilts its head to the other side, its tail swishing languidly across the ground as it looks down at him. "You don't belong here." Dabi is about to ask for clarification, but the creature goes on, "The sky egg, on the bank, that is yours, yes?" 
There's an immediate relief from that. At the very least, if the creature knows that it's possible for other creatures to come from their sky, he isn't going to have to handle first contact with a species that's going to be convinced he's a god or demon, or something else absurd. "Yes, I was visiting to learn about this planet," he gestures at his kit and the little vials of soil and cuttings of plants he was trying to process, "When a herd of six-legged tall creatures with long necks knocked it into the mud." He explains carefully. The translator will get better the more they speak and the more information it takes in from the other creature. 
"Aindrul," The creature tells him, and the translator tries to run that species name through their databases, but it comes up blank. It really was a new species then.
"Aindrul," Dabi agrees. "I can't leave until I can dig out part of my ship." He explains. "And I can't start to dig until the storm stops. I was hoping that I could stay here until the rain stopped? Then I'll go on my way. I'll do my best to stay out of your way." He will do his best to not annoy the creature with too many questions, though he has a million. Their scans of the other parts of this planet didn't show any signs of civilizations, which must mean that if this is the dominant species on the planet, then this species must not be very social, to the point where any information about culture that Dabi can learn will be especially interesting. It's always fascinating to hear about the cultural practices of species that are so completely different from humans. 
"...That is a long time to linger, little one."
Dabi frowns slightly, "Does the rain on your planet last a long time?" 
The creature frowns at him in return. "This is the storm of the tri-moon." He explains like Dabi is a child who should know better. "The rain will fall until the three moons are high over the lake." 
Dabi has to run some calculations in his head based on what Magne told him. She's their navigator and focused astrologist. This planet has four moons, none anywhere near the size of Earth's, with mostly two being visible at a time depending on what phase all four of them are in. Three can happen, but it would have to be the next time that they lined up to all not be waxing at the same. He tries to remember more specifics, but it wasn't his area and he was definitely more focused on and excited about the plant and animal life to have been as interested in the moons. "How long is that?" 
"A month, little one." 
Dabi blanches and the creature chitters at him. The translator picks up on the sound, but just informs him that it means 'sympathy, comfort' when his distress is so apparent to the creature. The planet rotates its sun a little faster than Earth does, the days are a little shorter too, but not by very much. Enough that a month here is three weeks of his time. Three weeks. Oh shit. "I, uh--" 
The creature chuffs at him again and then turns to start to go deeper into the cave, "You may stay so long as you do not get in my way, little one. But when the rain clears, you will leave, or my hospitality will end in a far less pleasant manner." 
His translator beeps to alert him that he was threatened, but the words and the slight growl to them was more than blatant enough for Dabi to pick up on that on his own, thank you very much. "Right, thank you!" He calls after the creature as he disappears into the dark. 
Dabi sinks back down to the cavern floor and pulls his helmet back on, calling back to the crew. Oh he is so beyond fucked. 
///
No one is happy to find out how long he's going to be stuck planet-side. It throws a wrench in their schedule, of course, requires a bunch of reports from Compress, and will definitely make him have to do a shit ton too when he gets back to the ship, but that's the long-term fuckery he has to deal with. In the short-term, Dabi is in a tight spot as far as rations go. He has a water bottle that is made to filter out any potential parasites, bacteria, toxins, and the like from just about anything he puts into it, and the rain itself is already, according to his tests, not too different from rain water on Earth, so he feels pretty safe about that. but he isn't as certain about food. It's standard practice for anyone on an away mission to take a week of rations with them, and he has that. He can stretch that as much as he can, but it won't be pleasant. What becomes far more pressing is that, as he gives these updates to the crew and they try to figure out what his next steps are, Dabi starts to notice that the temperature is rapidly decreasing. 
An aerial scan proves he's not insane about that, and the reason he's noticing it even in his thermal suit, is because it's dropped twenty degrees since the rain started two hours ago. The cloud cover is apparently so thick that any light and heat from the planet's sun is being dispersed in the upper layers of the cloud cover, leading to the ground cooling rapidly. Dabi is going to be in a rough spot if it gets too much colder at night even with the supplies he has. 
He talks to the rest of the crew for a few more minutes, but it's ultimately decided that he's probably best off going and talking to the reptilian alien again to see if it could tell him anything about surviving these harsh conditions. Dabi hesitantly starts to move deeper into the cavern and calls out, "Excuse me?" 
His voice, and the translator's approximation of it in the new language rings out around him, as he moves deeper, and it only takes until he's gone maybe thirty feet before he starts to feel more warmth in the air. Their scans didn't say this structure was connected to a volcano or anything like that, but Compress did mention there were other geothermal vents somewhere within the system.
"What is it, little one?" The voice comes from higher than he's expecting as he finds himself stepping into a wider cavern, an oblong chamber that seems to have a hole in the ceiling that's been dug out at an angle so that water can drain into what appears to be a carved pool in the floor. He turns to the left and sees that the creature has dug out a section of the rock too, about five feet up from the floor, and seems to have made it into a burrow. It's filled with leaves and other foliage from outside and the alien had been tucked into it, but now is poking its head out from the opening to watch him intently. 
"My name is Dabi," he tells the creature. "Do you have a name?" 
The creature waits for the words to be translated and then responds, his voice a low rumble that buzzes through Dabi's skull, "Tomura Shigaraki." 
Which gives Dabi a little more information about his species than he expected. "You have a clan name? Do you have a family?" 
"No. What do you need, little one?" 
"I'm sorry," He waits for the translator to repeat that, not wanting to offend the creature with his misspoken words. "... I wasn't prepared to be trapped through this storm. I wanted to know if there's any time when the rain lets up? I was hoping I could try to gather some supplies." 
"There are short lulls." The creature tells him. "Do you have enough to wait a few days for that? If so, I will take you hunting with me then." 
Relief goes through him, "I'll be good for a few days. Thank you, I really appreciate your hospitality... Shigaraki?"
"Tomura." 
"Tomura." He hesitates but still asks, "You told me before about the aindrul, I'm a human, what is your species called?" 
"Kir." As soon as the species is said, his equipment starts to run it through the database, but like the aindrul, this one turns up nothing. 
"Thank you. Humans... tend to like company. We like to talk to each other and spend time together when we're cohabitating with other species. I can do my best to make myself scarce if that's something you want, but if you're open to it, I'd like to know you more while I spend time in your den." 
The kir listens to the translator make his language understandable again and then considers him, its tail moving languidly where it's hanging out of its burrow, long enough that it's dragging against the cavern floor. "We can talk, little one, but not now. I spent the day preparing for the storm and I wish to sleep." 
"Oh! Okay," Dabi straightens, "I'm sorry if I woke you." 
"Humans apologize a lot." The kir remarks, pulling its tail up into the burrow and shifting so that the bulk of the pale body is hidden. 
"Can I ask one more question before you go to sleep?" 
"Hmm?" 
"What sex are you?" 
"...Are you looking for a mate, little one?" There's amusement in the deep growl of the creature's voice as it lifts its head to half turn back to him and pin him under that strange red-eyed stare. 
He hopes his burns hide the heat that goes to his face, "No, I just wanted to know what pronouns to use." Pronouns are hard across species, some not having any concept of them at all, and others having dozens with the punishment for getting them wrong being execution. But he would like to know so that he can report back to the others with as much detail about the kir as possible. That should help to make identifying this species against their database, if it's been entered under a different name, a little easier. "I'm male, I use he/him." 
"As am I, you may use the same for me, little boy." 
"I'm an adult," he stresses even as he starts to move back towards the cavern entrance so that the kir can sleep. 
"I suppose that means you won't get any bigger, what a pity for you. A little one forever." And Dabi cannot believe he's barely talked to this creature for ten minutes and he's being called short and a baby in one fell swoop. But the kir is amused instead of annoyed with him, and given the wicked claws and sharp teeth that he has, Dabi would rather be a source of amusement than a source of nourishment. 
Dabi leaves his main chamber and goes back down the long tunnel to the entrance, the air getting colder and colder again as he does. He is quiet as he packs his equipment back into his kit and brings it with him this time as he returns, taking out the small thin thermal blanket that is in his pack of supplies and trying to curl up as comfortably as he can on the hard rock floor. He sends a written report of the conditions, what he's learned about the kir, and then settles in as he listens to the storm rage in the distance and tries his best to fall asleep on the hard ground. 
Oh, this is going to be a hell of a time for the next three weeks. 
///
Dabi wakes, with something poking at his shoulder what feels like five minutes later, and he immediately palms the trigger in his suit that will electrify the outer layer to make whatever's touching him drop him if it proves to be hostile. Tomura sees his eyes open, and he takes hold of Dabi's arm, pulling him off of the floor. 
"Wha--" 
"Your teeth are chattering so loudly you're keeping me up." The alien pulls him, blanket and all back into the cavern and brings him over to his burrow. Before Dabi can say anything else, his tail coils around his waist in two thick wraps that covers him from sternum to the tops of his thighs. And when he's held tight by his tail, Tomura lets go of his arm so that he can use his claws to climb back up into his bed, pulling Dabi up with him. 
"Wait--" 
The kir chitters at him, and his translator doesn't have a word for the sound, so it simply tells him 'exasperated'. He pulls Dabi into the burrow, and even with the larger creature inside with him, it is big enough for both of them, though the kir curls his body and tail around him, tucking his blanket up tight between them too. He looks over Dabi, who is still a horrible cocktail of bewildered and humiliated, and then he tucks his head into his arms and closes his eyes, a very low purring starting to hum through his body. It's so low that it's a mild hum, but so deep that it rumbled through the kir's entire body and into Dabi's too. His translator tells him 'soothing, contentment' and Dabi really does mean to protest. But the burrow is filled with layers of soft material, grasses, leaves, and a strange shredded pale fluff like the head of a dandelion, which is much softer and warmer than the stone he was laying on before. Maybe the kir can be a communal species and aren't for some reason during the storm. 
This alien clearly feels empathy and has gone out of his way to express kindness, no matter how pushy that ended up being. That's a good sign, he reminds himself as he tries to relax against where his back is resting against the creature's long tail. There are plenty of creatures in the wide universe who don't feel or express those sentiments at all, regardless of species. He's a lot better off if he's trapped on a planet where this one would see his discomfort and choose to help him instead of leaving him to suffer or killing him for the inconvenience. 
He settles in and closes his eyes, listening to the creature purr and their deep even breaths echoing softly in the burrow. 
///
The next morning he finds the kir has already slipped out of his burrow by the time he's woken, and isn't in the cavern where he can see him, and Dabi does ensure that he checks the ceiling immediately as well. He checks in with the others first, 
"Good morning," 
"Morning sunshine!" Magne answers back. She and Twice should have taken over for Compress and Spinner in the past two or so hours, and she still sounds fresh and cheerful. "How are things planet-side? How's your big, scaly roommate?" 
"It sounds like it's still raining," he tells her, glad that his suit has enough lightly glowing element for him to see by even without using his full flashlight. "And he's nice. Any luck looking up his species?" 
"'Kir' didn't trigger any of our systems," she tells him apologetically, "but if you can get him to hold still for a scan or get a sample from him, we'll run it again." 
"I'll see if he's up for that." But probably not right now. The creature is already putting up with a lot from him. He doesn't want to push his luck and outstay his welcome when he apparently has weeks left of this. "Any sign of the storm letting up from there?" 
"Not that we can tell. The winds have held at forty miles per hour for the past few hours, but it hasn't stopped thunder storming. Sorry, firecracker." 
"Tomura said he'd take me with him to get supplies," he tells her instead. They had no idea that this storm would be a persistent problem, and there was no way they could have predicted that his pod was going to get smushed into the ground by the aindrul. There's no reason to linger on it, especially when, at the moment, there doesn't appear to be any significant and immediate threat to his life. "He also has definitely seen a ship and stuff before, because he's not really confused about it. Didn't Proximacard Multinational also do a brief tour of this sector? Any chance that we can send a request to them to try and find out if they logged the kir?" 
"I'll reach out, but it'll probably take a week or so to hear anything." 
"Not like I'm going anywhere." 
"I guess we can't abandon you there." She contemplates with a sigh. "You're the only one who gets excited about soil nitrates." 
"They're important!" 
"You have enough battery for long-range calls for two weeks, so we should start to ration your battery." She says, quickly deflecting from the rant he's definitely gone on before. He always had the doubt in the back of his mind that he would never see another world, so every small piece of these other planets he's gotten to explore has excited him. Even after years of it, every part of each world is a new, delightful mystery to unravel and observe. 
They talk for a few more minutes, deciding on stretching it to the four weeks they hope they'll need by only having him call in once every two days, Ingenuity time, and only for five minutes unless there's been a significant development. The only other calls he'll make are for emergencies. They'll keep an eye on the storm and let him know if the cloud cover thins enough and the lightning pauses long enough for him to leave before the tri-moons are in the sky. When they've done that, the call ends to start preserving his battery and Dabi carefully moves to the edge of the burrow and lowers himself down to the floor. That's not too difficult to do, though it was a little unnerving to back out of the opening and into the barely-lit cave without being able to see it, but he gets onto the ground without any trouble. He leaves his blanket up there. He doesn't know if it's going to get warmer again or if it will stay so chilled throughout the rest of the storm, but if it stays cold, he'll probably need to sleep there with the kir until he's able to leave. 
He moves out of the chamber to go back to his kit and he finds Tomura sitting on the floor, his tail coiled around his legs, as he looks at all of his little specimen jars and tools. His kit is three interconnected cases, one with tools to gather his samples, one to put his electronic equipment, and one with his supplies, like sample jars. His planet-side standard pack is also there and has been opened as well. 
Tomura has laid out everything from each of the packs in neat, clean rows that seem to correspond with which pouch or pocket he'd taken them out of. 
"Hmm, you know, I would have been happy to show you my things if you'd asked." It's not even really an admonishment. He doesn't know this creature, he doesn't know his customs, he's not about to tell him that to humans it was inappropriate for him to touch his things without asking. 
"You sleep for a long time, I will put them back when I'm finished." The creature picks up one of his ration packs. "This is... food?" He hasn't opened any of them as best as Dabi can tell, so he thinks that the kir must have just smelled the food through it. 
Dabi sits down with him on the cavern floor. "Yeah, I need about one more week's worth of food to last through the storm without discomfort." He won't starve, that's not going to be an issue unless things get really, really fucked, as far as the storm and his departure plan go. 
Tomura gently crinkles the package that looks tiny in his hand, especially with his one long armored talon. "...Does your food have to be... dry?" 
"No, our rations are dried so that they last longer without going bad. I can eat food with moisture in it." 
Tomura hums and puts the package back down on the neat pile of them. Then he turns his attention to the cuttings and other samples he'd taken the day before. "What are you doing with these?" 
"I'm a scientist. The group I work for has people, like me, go to different planets to try to learn more about them. I came here to take a few small samples so that I could bring them back to the bigger ship and see what they're like and how they grow." 
Tomura hums and picks up one of the jars with a cutting of a small plant he had found growing at the base of the trees. "Be careful with this one. When it's mature, it releases a cloud of burning dust." 
Well. He's glad to have found that out now rather than later and Dabi picks up the little tablet that Tomura's already laid out and scans the lid of the jar and makes a note about that. "Can you tell me about the others?" 
The tip of Tomura's tail lifts from its coil and swishes across the floor slowly and Dabi has hung out with enough cats to know that's a sign of aggravation, though he's not sure if it's something reptiles do as well. Though he does purr. Maybe he's got a little cat in him too, spiritually. "Why does your group want to learn about my planet?" 
Well, guess he does have to do this part of the pitch, though it's really his least favorite thing to have to try and make sound appealing. "We want to find planets that are safe to explore and learn more about. Not just humans, like me, but lots of different species who want to see new worlds. My crew just visits for a very short amount of time to find out what other species could come here for longer research studies. Sometimes the planets we visit only have a little plant life and some wild animals, but no people. When we find people already living on a planet, that other team will visit and talk to them to see if they can be allowed to study there." He explains carefully and then waits for the translator to do its work. After another beat he adds, "Do your people have a government that the other crew can contact?"
"We live alone, unless a mother is rearing her young, but a group could be assembled to meet these other people." Tomura doesn't say anything else about that topic and instead picks up one of his laser cutters that's no bigger than a pen. "Is this a weapon?" 
"I guess it could be, but I use it to take samples of things that I can't get with my clippers," he points to those and then puts his hand out for the laser cutter. Tomura hands it over without protest and Dabi picks up a loose rock from the ground, sets it in an empty space between them and turns on the cutter. He still can't hold his hand still enough to get a perfectly sliced line, given the flare of the laser can't cut anything more than three inches from it, and even touching the rock, Dabi cannot draw a straight line to save his life, but Tomura still chitters when the stone splits in half as Dabi finishes. 'Interest' his translator tells him. Dabi puts the laser back into the row Tomura had it in. 
"Do you have the means to hunt?" 
"Not really," he admits. "Humans don't usually have to hunt, and I'm a scientist," he says again, "I'm not normally supposed to hurt the plants or animals I find on a planet." 
Tomura considers that. "You should stay put then, little one. I'll bring back more food." 
His face burns but he doesn't protest. He doesn't know what other kinds of creatures call this jungle home, and he has no idea if he'd be able to keep up with Tomura, especially if he crawls through the trees the way he's so easily able to scale the cavern walls. "I'm really sorry about causing you so much trouble. Thank you so much for everything you're doing to help me. Your hospitality is greatly appreciated." He hopes that the mechanical chitters and chirps that the creature hears are able to express that sentiment clearly. Things would be much worse for him if he was alone, sitting here watching the rain fall and talking to the crew, sure that it would let up soon. 
Tomura listens to the clicks and his head tilts to the side slightly, still pinning him under those strange red eyes. "You're welcome, Dabi. You're a... curiosity. It's worth a few small inconveniences to sate that." The kir starts to put back the items in his kit, and yeah, they were laid out so he's able to pack them back inside exactly as they were. Dabi is guessing that if he didn't wake up, he wouldn't have ever even known that Tomura was in his stuff. "Do you eat meat?" 
"I can, plants too, but I'll probably have to cook them, my teeth aren't as sharp as yours." He just means for it to be an easy explanation, not really wanting to see if this creature knows about the risk of germs and parasites that could be in the meat of the other animals he hunts, but Dabi finds himself stiffening suddenly when a large hand shifts to his face.
The kir's skin is cool against his own and, Dabi finds, is covered in fine scales along the back , the palm tough, smooth skin. his long taloned finger rests against the side of his neck, as his two others hook under his chin and his thumb moves to his lips. He pulls gently on his bottom one. Tomura makes him bare his teeth and then clicks softly in the back of his throat. 
"Much blunter." Dabi's entire face goes hot as he pushes his large finger between his teeth, testing his canines lightly against his skin. Holy fuck. his thumb is the size of three of his own fingers and Dabi really doesn't even know where to start with the inappropriateness of this touch, but he really doesn't want to examine it either because then he might have to worry about the inappropriateness of the flickering warmth that goes through him at being manhandled so easily by this creature. "It's a wonder you can chew anything at all." He takes his finger out of his mouth and lets go of him and Dabi has to grapple for a second with that misplaced heat. Fuck, yeah it's been years since someone put something in his mouth like that, but he really doesn't need his body misbehaving like that. "Wait here, I'll bring back enough for you to eat." He instructs. 
Before he leaves though, he shows Dabi around the other parts of the cave system. A bit deeper in, there is a large pool that is being filled from three vents dug into the ceiling to let the rain water flow into it, creating a pseudo shower and bathing area, that Dabi is happy to be shown, because that means he will at least be able to be clean and clean the clothes beneath his suit while he's here as well. He shows him two other paths, one that goes deeper into the mountain that they can retreat to in case of flooding, and the other as a secondary exit in case the first is not viable for any reason. Then the kir leaves him to his own devices and goes out into the storm. Dabi watches him go, but with his coloration and the rain so thick and heavy, he loses sight of the alien in a matter of seconds as he takes off into the trees. 
///
Dabi's been alone for a few hours. The cave, even though the sky is still black save for the flashes of lightning splitting the sky, has warmed up significantly since last night, and he thinks that means he'll at least be safe during the day to take off his suit and just wear around his standard issue black thermal sweats and gray t-shirt for a while. He goes and tests the water in both chambers to see if it will be safe, bringing a small electric lantern with him. This, at least, has enough battery to last for months at a time given the simplicity of the device, and it makes it so much easier for him to see by. There are no notable parasites or dangerous contaminants in either of the pools, so Dabi does fill up his water bottle and let those filters take care of any additional microbial contaminants. He also goes back to the creature's bed and finds a few little foot holds in the wall and uses those to step up high enough he can actually look into the bed with the lantern. The cavern he's carved out for himself in the wall is an oblong shape with a domed ceiling that is at least nine feet deep and about four and a half feet tall at the highest point of the ceiling. It's been stuffed full of leaves and dried grasses like he'd noted before, but he is more interested in the white papery stuff. He takes a little sample of that out, putting that in the jar he has, and then reaching to touch it without his gloves. It feels soft and papery, and he figures the shreds of this must be what gives the rest of the bedding its fluff. 
He goes back to his equipment and sits down, beginning to go through his samples one-by-one, and doing whatever field tests he can with what he has on hand, writing everything down as neatly as possible in an actual notebook by hand. At least this way he'll be able to photograph these pages and send his work back to base during his next check-in to save power. And he waits. 
///
It's starting to get chilly again and he's gotten back into his suit when Tomura comes back into the cave. He hears the change of the cadence of the falling rain and gets to his feet, going to greet him at the mouth only to find himself gaping as he sees the large predator dragging an even larger animal behind in his tail. His arms are full of round, nearly bowling ball sized fruits, and he's completely drenched, not that that's a surprise, with his long hair plastered to his face and down his back. 
"Little one," he greets, but moves past him, inclining his head to get Dabi to follow, which he does, a good yard and a half behind him as he tries to take in what he can of the beast that the other killed. This creature also has the pale coloring that the other animals on this planet have had with the majority of its body being white, and pale shades of gray, in splotches and stripes, but the back and head of this creature is dark like the canopy above, the color split like that of a shark. It is a quadrupedal creature that he guesses must live among the higher tree branches because its feet and hands are structured the same, like with monkeys and chimps on Earth. It also is scaled rather than furry though, and its corpse is bleeding sluggishly as it's dragged deeper into the cave from the wounds in its neck and side that look like they're from Tomura's teeth and claws, its head rotated at a sharply unnatural angle that Dabi guesses is what actually killed it. 
They move into the main cavern and Tomura drops the beast from his tail and then uses that and his arms to set down and stack the bulbous fruits. Dabi hadn't turned off his lantern when he heard him approaching, and Tomura blinks at the light, but doesn't comment on it. The fruit are the deep red of an apple, though the color is almost uncomfortably uniform across all of them. He expects fruit to have variation in it, and the stunning lack of change aside from a slight difference in size is very strange. 
"Do your tests, find what you can eat. I will take whatever you cannot." 
"Thank you." He really doesn't have better words to express his gratitude for the other creature's hospitality, so he tries to at least just be fast about it. 
Dabi goes and gets his kit and uses his tools to take samples from the beast. He does test the meat, and over the course of the next hour he determines that the meat is edible, and will remain so after it's been cooked. He's glad that he did get survival training though, because as he carefully butchers a section of the large carcass, he feels Tomura watching him from his burrow. He hopes he doesn't look too inept. He has a small flash cooker with him, only big enough to contain 20oz of whatever he puts in it at a time, but it can also work as a dehydrator, and Dabi determines how much meat he'll need to stretch his rations to make it a full month, just in case something else goes wrong. 
He takes what he needs and it's barely a quarter of the meat on one side of the creature's body, then he moves off to the side so that he can work on cutting it into strips and making it into jerky. 
"Little one, surely that isn't enough." 
"I'm little," he says, with some amusement when the creature seems to be admonishing him. "And I don't hunt, I don't need as much energy as you do." 
He huffs softly, but does move over to the carcass himself and begins to take his meal. Dabi watches between changing out strips of meat in the small chamber. Tomura's mouth is large, despite how it looks when he's just talking, and he uses the way his jaw can seemingly unhinge to take large bites out of the creature's body, focusing on the areas that are covered in the most muscle tissue. The two rows of teeth carve deep grooves out of the creature and, like Spinner, he doesn't really chew his food, just making sure the chunks he takes in are manageable and then swallowing them down. He also can, apparently, eat bone, though he does tend to break open the bigger ones first to lick out the marrow with a long forked tongue. It's a little gross to watch, but no different in concept to any wild predator taking a meal, and by the time Dabi has finished dehydrating most of the meat and flash cooking the strip that he is going to eat fresh tonight, the kir has consumed half of the corpse. He purrs and the translator tells Dabi 'content', though he could have guessed that on his own. 
When he finishes with the carcass, Tomura takes the last of his kill out of the cave again, but he takes it through the other tunnel that he showed Dabi earlier and then doesn't come back immediately. Dabi takes that opportunity to have a bite of the meat himself. It has a toughness and a gaminess that Dabi has heard is common in wild game, and has a deeper umami flavor than beef alone usually does. It's definitely palatable and Dabi is certain that if it was prepared with even a bit of salt, it would be an easy staple meat and livestock on this planet if it were ever colonized. He is eating when Tomura comes back after about ten minutes, the blood and gore cleaned from his skin completely. 
He sees Dabi is eating and nods to himself before going over to the fruits. He uses his long index finger to break open a small part of the shell, and given the force he uses for it, and the way that the accompanying crack sounds as it echoes around the room with them, has him guessing they're as hard as a coconut at least. The coloration has also started to wash out slightly, getting less vibrant as Tomura puts the fruit back on the ground and kicks it towards the pool that is still filling with rain water. It rolls easily across the stone until it splashes into the little pool and then Dabi jumps out of his skin as it explodes with a loud pop, spraying a foot around the puddle with displaced water. 
Tomura lets out a hissy little chitter. 'Laughter, mockery'. Dabi glares at him, but the kir just chirps in reply before going over to the shallow pool and fishing out the fruit with his tail. It's cracked nearly all the way in half now, and the color of the outer skin is that vibrant rich red again. The inner flesh looks to be mostly a papery, stringy pulp, but he tears that away and pushes it to the side before extracting a fist-size mass of paler pinkish flesh that's dripping with a semi-translucent fluid before coming to sit down beside him. He offers him half of the flesh and Dabi takes it and puts a small pinch of the sticky flesh into his scanner. It takes a minute for it to work and firstly determine that it's not poisonous. Then it begins to break down the nutritional components inside of it. 
After another few minutes it beeps again and Dabi has to read the output twice to make certain that it's correct. The fruit is rich in vitamin C and D, with nearly double the amount of protein as guava, and it has more than ten percent of Ladreynyx per ounce. Holy fuck. Ladreynyx is one of the most sought-after substances in the wider known universe. It tends to occur on planets that at one point had a higher concentration of radiation, and early lifeforms seemed to develop this secretion to help counteract that and neutralize the negative effects of the radiation, healing their own cells and insolating them from the worst parts of it, so that they could thrive. It's such a hard to find substance, and one that medical professionals want in abundance so that they can test out how much good it can do helping to treat and prevent cancer and other forms of radiation sickness. All of which are becoming more common given how many people are going off-planet and getting exposed to the radiation of different planets and their atmospheres. 
"What's this fruit called?" He asks as he brings a small bit of it to his lips. Ladreynyx isn't poisonous unprocessed, but he is a bit concerned that it may be bitter and medicinal. The flesh has the texture of slightly unripe mango, and a sharp citric flavor that is bright on his tongue, but as he chews it mellows into a softer sweetness that reminds him of dango. 
"Uzut, they can only be harvested during the rain." Tomura explains, seeming satisfied with Dabi eating the flesh. "They wither quickly once they've been removed from the water and the inside becomes foul when the skin ashens." 
"And they explode?"
"Only when their shell is compromised in water. But it is a faster way of getting to the pits. It kills the fish that try to eat them." 
Dabi takes another bite of the flesh and then asks, "And what kind of creature was that?" There is some hesitation in the question. Some species find constant questions unpleasant, some find them outright rude, and he really doesn't want to piss off his host. 
Tomura doesn't get aggravated though. He answers any question Dabi asks him and asks his own in turn as the night gets colder and the thunder keeps booming outside. And they spend their evening talking about anything and everything that either of them can think of. 
///
They spend the next two days together, with Dabi sleeping in the creature's bed with him against the chill, and the kir being as amused and interested in learning about humans as Dabi is about learning as much as he can about this planet. Being on a surveying crew, he doesn't usually get to become so focused on the worlds they visit. Usually, he only gets to take a passing interest, but this, for as unorthodox and unforeseen the circumstances may be, is giving him the opportunity to learn as much as he can about this planet as possible. 
They're sitting together on the floor of the main chamber, Tomura curled around him, his tail easily fully encircling him, though not touching, just close so that he can watch as Dabi lays out his samples in order of what he wrote about in his notebook so that he can send his pictures back to base. He's learned that Tomura can change from being an endotherm to an exotherm, mostly at will, and during the day he tends to be endothermic and delights in having Dabi's much hotter body as a way to soak up some extra warmth when he can. When everything is all ready, Dabi turns his communicator back on and turns off his translator. He doesn't necessarily want the other creature to hear everything that he's saying, especially if they've turned up something interesting about the kir from past expeditions. 
On the hour, the connection opens up and Dabi immediately starts to take and transmit the pictures of his notes before Compress even opens his mouth. 
"Dabi--" he pauses in his greeting as he starts to see them coming through. "I take it you're doing fine then?" 
"Yeah, I'm good. Tomura has been super helpful and very nice." And the creature immediately pokes his head up from it resting on the circle of his arms when he hears his name and enters the frame slightly. He clicks at the screen and Compress smiles at the other creature. 
"That's good." And they launch into the rest of their check-in. No news yet from Proximacard and the storm is as thick as ever from their scans, but other than that, there hasn't been too much disturbance on their end either. They filed the paperwork to deal with the sudden delay in their schedule, and they may be rerouted to dock at the nearest space station afterwards so he can get a proper check-up and they can restock on the supplies they're going to be down because of the delay, but it doesn't sound like they're in any trouble over it so far. 
Dabi hopes they'll be in even less of it when he uploads his notes about the Uzut and their abundance of Ladreynyx. 
///
The storm rages on outside and time slips by. By the end of the first week, Dabi feels gross enough that he needs to bathe and preferably clean his clothes as well. The only thing that keeps him from it initially, is that it's dark and still fairly cool in the cave even during the day, and he's worried that he won't be able to get them dry again. He voiced the concern to Tomura and the kir considered for a little while before he disappeared for a few hours. Then he'd come back with a few strange mud-covered bulbs like that of a tulip, that were as long as Dabi's forearm. Tomura used his claws to tear them open and inside had been a fibrous tissue that Dabi had been able to light with his laser tool, creating a small fire near the second entrance to the cavern that he could use to dry his clothes over. That was a fantastic bonus, but he wasn't prepared for the kir to follow him into the second pool to bathe. 
His face had heated, but he stripped down anyway, only leaving his translator, the speaker wrapped around his throat, and the earpiece in place so that he would be able to understand what the creature said as he bent over the pool and sunk his arm in up to the shoulder. He pulled up an egg-plant shaped fruit from inside of the water, that was bleached as white as so much of the vegetation that grows near the ground on this planet. He squeezed it, and it started to ooze out a thick viscous liquid that smelled strongly herbaceous, and Dabi had to pull his clothes back on to run a sample through his scanner to determine that it wouldn't melt off his skin before he'd accepted it. 
It definitely wasn't quite soap as he was used to it, but the way it lathers and how it does help to leave his skin clean in a way he guesses isn't dissimilar to the way bitter ginger nectar can on earth. He washes himself and his clothes, and then wraps himself up in his thermal blanket as he waits for them to dry. And Tomura stays with him, his eyes linger over his body, but Dabi can't begrudge him that. He's been looking at the alien's body whenever he can, fascinated by every inch of pale flesh and patch of scales, the curve of muscles beneath, his single armored finger on each hand, his sharp, bright eyes and large, dangerous teeth. Tomura is far from the first alien species he's ever interacted with, but this is different from meeting a foreign species in one of his classes or on an established planet. This feels... special. So he doesn't protest when he finds the creature's strange eyes lingering on any patch of his skin, and when he chitters at him inquisitively about the scars littered across his body, Dabi explains what those are too. 
It's especially amazing how he takes that in stride and it doesn't change the texture of his glances. There is no pity that sours his looks. It's been a very long time since Dabi met someone who could manage that.
///
The first week is the most difficult, and even then, it's only a challenge because they are starting to put together a routine. Not because there is any real hardship. He learns that aside from hunting when he's hungry, something he usually only has to do once a week given the volume of what he eats during his meals, Tomura spends most of his days sleeping. It's not uncommon for species that haven't developed other kinds of entertainment, and since the kir are intensely isolationist to maintain their territories, they don't have any kind of society or trading. Dabi talks a little about his, how humans are a social species, how they have laws and things that they have to abide by so that they could invent agriculture and industry. He's not trying to convince the kir that is the way things should be done-- the earliest humans who wanted to explore the stars had definitely tried that, and there are chapters after chapters dedicated to them in every textbook for every beginner course on space travel that talks about how they were slaughtered for trying to colonize other sentient races. Which is why Exovin's policies are to make contact and enter discussions, meeting the dominant species on their terms before anything else. 
Tomura asks about how humans live on Earth and in their societies, so Dabi tells him. And in turn Tomura tells him things about his species. 
"Our mothers lay and hatch a clutch of usually two to three young at a time." 
"You have siblings?" 
"One, a sister. I haven't seen her since we left our mother's den when we were of age. I believe she makes her territory in the desert." 
"Will you ever visit her? Or your mom?"
"No, females are fiercely territorial. She would probably tear off my head long before realizing who I was." He chitters, but the translator says he's amused by the thought, so Dabi figures that his species must not get lonely, must not crave connection the way humans do. "Do you have siblings?" 
"Yeah, I'm the oldest of four. I have one younger sister and two younger brothers." And on and on their conversations go. 
Tomura doesn't seem to have any concerns about having their long talks, especially not when Dabi doesn't protest to him wrapping around his body the same way he does when they are laying together in his burrow at night. And Dabi never protests, even when he is made to feel so small because Tomura's voice is always so low. It rumbles through his chest in his chitters, growls, and purrs as he speaks, and they send a low, steady hum throughout the room. The vibration of them as he speaks sometimes makes gooseflesh crawl along his skin... and sometimes it puts a little heat there too. 
Dabi really does his best to not think about that, but he can't quite help it. He recognizes the growl that he lets out when he says 'little one' even without the translator now. Fuck, maybe three years without any sexual contact that wasn't his own hands is more than he thought it was. He never broke down or hooked up with any of the others, though he thinks that they may have been on and off throughout their voyage. He wasn't usually aching for it, but something about Tomura, something about the way he watches him, the way he leans in close and speaks too him so low that Dabi can feel the echoes of his voice in his own chest, that's making the celibacy a far more noticeable inconvenience. 
But he doesn't know how the kir mate, and he is not about to ask. Besides, he's damn sure that Twice and Magne won't let him live it down if his 'first contact' has to have the 'Kirk Clause' added to his final report. 
///
At the midpoint of the storm, the howling winds, crashing thunder, and torrential rain somehow get even worse. His check-in isn't until tomorrow, but Dabi has a sneaking suspicion that they're getting into a severe enough storm that tornados would be possible if this were Earth. He asks Tomura if they have tornadoes here, and he seems flabbergasted by the concept, which leads them to discussing the different natural disasters that they can have on their opposing planets and Dabi watches Tomura dig out another little hole in the side of the wall, easily breaking through the stone and scraping away the contents.
He had been thinking, given it was a smaller structure, that it was going to be a bed for him, because the kir wanted him out of his space, but when it's finished, it's just big enough for Dabi to store his kit and suit so that they aren't tucked off at the side of the room anymore. Tomura still lifts him into his bed at night and holds him close as they sleep, his purrs rumbling through them both.
///
It's still cool and late when Dabi wakes hearing his communicator chirping frantically from its place across the room. Tomura grumbles, but unwraps his tail from around Dabi's body, relinquishing his hold around his waist as well when he recognizes the sound. Dabi slips out of his burrow and goes over to retrieve his tablet, taking it into the bathing chamber so that he doesn't disturb Tomura any more than he already has as he answers with a yawn, 
"Hey Mag--" 
"Dabi," her tone is strained in a way that has him sharply shaking the last lingering threads of sleepiness. 
"What is it? What's going on?" 
"Are you alright? Tomura hasn't hurt you?" 
He blinks. "No, of course not-- Why?" 
Her face is pale and drawn as a file comes through for him. "We got the communication back from Proximacard. They registered the dominant species as REH-129, and marked the planet as 'unsuitable' for foreign life because the species was extremely hostile. Six of their people died." 
Dabi opens the file, trying to make sense of what she's telling him. He mutes the video file that's been attached to the report, leaving the subtitles on, and watches as the Proxima crew lands and starts to comb the jungle, taking their own samples and exploring. It's sunny and bright in the video, but the footage has clearly been edited down to show the first contact with-- Tomura. There's no mistaking the creature. He knows his eyes, his hair, recognizes the way he holds himself as he looms over the crew in one of the trees and clicks and snarls at them. He asks them who they are, why they're in his territory, and Proxima tells him that they've arrived to enter the planet into the rest of the interplanetary community, they say they're looking for useful things, that they want to find the government if there is one here, they hold themselves firm and strong in the wake of Tomura's increasing agitation. 
They open fire when he moves too quickly into their space. The phaser blast hits his skin and dissipates across it harmlessly. And Tomura opens his mouth wide enough to show off all of his teeth before he lunges. The footage is shaky and awful then, a horrible blur of violence as he watches Tomura easily tear through their suits, through flesh, as he cuts down the members of Proxima. They learn quickly enough that they need to run, and the last of the footage shows Tomura dragging their dead deeper into the jungle. His stomach twists. 
Based on the feedback they were able to get from the suits, he'd eaten a fair amount of the remains before the signal stopped transmitting. 
"They tried exploring other regions and they found the other REH-129's to be as aggressive if not more so." She warns. "Are you sure you're safe there?" 
He was positive of it up until ten minutes ago. "He hasn't ever hurt me." Is all he can think to say. He doesn't want to elaborate too much about how close they've been so far. 
"That may not always be the case. The Proxima members who survived their other interactions found that phasers didn't work, but electricity and laser weapons could do some damage. If you need to protect yourself--" 
"Okay." He cuts her off, his stomach gone sour from this new knowledge she's saddled him with. "He hasn't made any aggressive action towards me. He said his people are territorial-- they don't even visit family members to keep out of each others' space. They may have just been scared of how many people were showing up in their domains." He tries weakly. But that doesn't take away seeing how bloodthirsty Tomura could be if the mood struck him. 
Magne doesn't look satisfied with that. "Make sure you're wearing your monitor for your vitals, alright?" So they know if he gets killed. It's not as if they can get down here to help him if they think he's in trouble. 
"Okay." He agrees, but they don't stay on the call much longer than that. He doesn't return to bed for a long while. 
///
He can't help but keep replaying those clips over and over in his head as Tomura stretches and readies himself for the day. He yawns wide and shows all of his too many teeth-- and then he licks his lips like a cat when he's finished. He tilts his nose up and scents the air, opening his mouth again to get an even better read on the room, and Dabi sincerely hopes he can't literally smell the discomfort under his skin. 
"Hmm, I'm going out to hunt. I'll bring back a feast for us, little one." 
He has never felt so relieved to be alone as he does now. "Oh, you don't have to worry about me--" 
The creature titters at him in that low grumble, leaning down a bit to nose at his hair for a second before moving on. "You will like what I return with." He promises, and then moves out to the edge of the cave. "Stay in this chamber. The weather may be worse before I return." If Tomura had said that yesterday, Dabi would have asked if he had to hunt today, or if he could hold off until things got a little better, but he doesn't now. Now he's worried about what Tomura will do if he gets hungry, so he says nothing. He goes and Dabi tries to put it out of his mind. 
 It's worse than failure when he watches the videos over, and over, and over again, as if that will somehow make the horrors he's seeing less real instead of more. 
///
He's alone until it's starting to get cold again, and Tomura returns with his kill. He made sure to bring the same creature as the first time, knowing that Dabi can eat that too, and an array of other fruits. He waits patiently for Dabi to test them to see what he can eat and what he can't, and he does have to put one aside for containing a nearly lethal dose of arsenic around any of the flesh that touches the seeds. But otherwise, he's able to try the four that are presented to him. Tomura watches him, his tail slithering languidly across the floor, a constant purr in the back of his throat. 'Happy' the translator tells him when Dabi lights up as he finds one of the fruits tastes like fresh strawberries and citrus. 'Content' it says as they eat together. He tries to pretend that he isn't scared when his mouth opens to tear into meat and fruit with the same ferocity. 
Tomura takes the remnants of their meal and disposes of them and he wonders if he goes to the spot where he dumps the remains of his kills, if he'll find anything he can bring back to the ship of the Proximacard crew, something to send their families, maybe. He tries not to think about that. He waits for the other to clean the blood from his skin and return and he cuddles up in his burrow with him when they're both full and starting to really feel the bite of the cold air as the storm rages on. 
///
Dabi wakes to Tomura nuzzling into his neck and purring loudly, he shifts a little to hit his translator, usually leaving it off at night to save battery, and is immediately told 'hungry', which sends ice flooding his gut. 
"Tomura," his voice is thin with his sudden, sharp terror as the kir coils his tail tighter around his body, pinning his arms to his side and forcing him still as he nuzzles in closer to his neck. His tongue flicks over Dabi's skin as he takes a deep breath, scenting him more thoroughly than he ever has before. 
"You smell so good, little one." He purrs, nuzzling his skin again. "Smelled like this all day. What's different, Dabi?"
'Hungry' the translator tells him again as Tomura purrs, the sound of it rumbling through Dabi's body and trying to shake loose his arousal alongside the fear tinging his veins. "I-- Tomura--" He squeaks softly as one of his large hands moves around his waist, slipping underneath his shirt and meeting his skin with cooler flesh and the barest prickle of his sharp claws. Tomura's tail moves, trying to wrap a little tighter around him, as he shifts so that they're not laying curled around each other anymore, but the other creature has his weight over him. And his tail drags over the inside of his thighs as it rearranges itself, putting a pressure somewhere that's had none for so long. Preparing to die by being eaten alive is really not the appropriate time for his body to start to warm, but Dabi lets out a whimper as it happens, two sharp spikes of heat in his cheeks as he feels his face begin to blush. 
The translator clicks something out in Tomura's language and Dabi stiffens, terrified of how that was translated. Tomura hears it and then lets out the loudest, deepest growl that he's ever heard from him which should be pants-shittingly terrifying, and instead only makes Dabi's body go a little warmer from hearing it echo around the enclosed space. His hands are firm as they pull at him, forcing Dabi onto his stomach and before he can ask what he's doing, he's got one of his elongated, armored fingers between his teeth. his mouth stretches around the intrusion as it pushes into him, back until it's filling him, the tip making his throat flutter as it sits just at the point of breaching him. It's been long enough that he's had something there that Dabi gags weakly, his head going into a dizzying spin of terror and arousal. 
Tomura presses his face into the back of his neck again as his tail wraps around one of Dabi's thighs and pulls it up, making him tuck it between his chest and the floor, his other hand around his hip and pulling those up and back so that he's spread wide. 'Hungry, hungry, hungry' the translator tells him, but Tomura is growling and purring. The hand that isn't in his mouth moves over his hip and up his back, pushing his shirt up with the movement. 
"I thought that things may be different for humans-- but you smelled so good, little one. This is good, isn't it? This is what you're hungry for, isn't it, Dabi?" His voice ripples through him and Dabi doesn't know how to think past that sound, past the fullness in his mouth to find fear when Dabi is hungry. Hungry in a way that the translator doesn't understand in its coolness. Not for either of them. 
He moans weakly around the intrusion in his mouth and timidly rocks his hips back. The growl that Tomura lets out has Dabi's cock hardening as the kir presses in even closer, putting his hips flush to Dabi's ass. But he's never seen the other's sex organs, and he can't feel anything now. He whines around his finger, licking and sucking at his claw, and making the alien purr even louder as he does. He doesn't protest as he pulls at his waistband and the sweats and his boxers slip over his hips, leaving him open and exposed to the other, his cock already half hard. 
Tomura purrs and leans in close again, nuzzling against the back of his neck as his hips move against Dabi's bare skin again. And this time, he feels something slick starting to spread over his skin. It's hot and viscous, and Tomura's tail uncoils partially from his limbs so that the thin tip can move between his legs. It pauses on its way to his hole, finding his cock and rubbing along him. "That's it, little one. I'll give you what you need." 
Dabi feels certain he's going to when that tail leaves his cock, which has him whining and reaching his hand between his legs to touch himself, as his tail slithers over his balls and to his hole, spreading around more of that slick over him. He's happy to have it because all too soon, the tip is prodding at his center, nearly as wide as two fingers and Dabi is moaning again. It's been so long since he's had anyone else touch him there and he is desperate for it now. Has been desperate for this creature's touch since he first caught his chin. He tries to stay relaxed as his muscles are rubbed at gently. For all that Tomura is so large, such a violent predator, he seems to know how to be careful where it counts and Dabi will take that if he can get it. He still doesn't know what the other's genitals look like and he's not even sure if they're compatible like this, but he's willing to try. 
The tail spreads that slick inside of his hole, moving against him in serpentine, undulating motions that makes all of those nerves light up in a way his own fingers haven't been able to since he's been on this excursion. His tail isn't like his fingers, it's so much longer and it gets perfectly thicker as Tomura feeds it into his body inch by inch. He had been hoping for a cock, but Dabi won't complain if this is what he gets instead. He squeezes himself at his base when Tomura's tail rubs just right and he finds his prostate, the loud moan that comes out of him is muffled around his finger as his whole body goes tight and he jerks his hips back against the alien's strength to try and get more of that sensation where he wants it. 
Tomura growls again and that does not help Dabi's leaking cock. Fuck. It's been so long since he was fucked-- he's pretty sure he's not going to last very long at this rate. He forces himself to let go of his aching cock, clutching onto handfuls of the bedding instead as Tomura's tail thrusts inside him a few more perfect times. He feels helpless, useless in the creature's grasp, and tries to show that he can be worth his time, sucking on his finger, swallowing around him, and running his tongue along the chitin-like armor plates along it, careful of the sharp tip of his claw against the sensitive tissue inside of his mouth. It earns him another low purr and his tail starts to retreat. 
He wishes he could speak, but his talon is too deep in his throat for him to manage it, instead whining as he's made suddenly empty. Dabi tries to push back, wanting to be fucked full desperately, and going stiff as he feels his ass rub against Tomura's hips. It hurts a little and he has to nip at his finger to get him to pull back just enough so that he can peek over his shoulder, but as soon as he does, he thinks his brain may melt. 
Like most reptilian races, Tomura has internal sex organs. Or internal until they're needed, and they both need them now. The two cocks are pressing out of a slit between his legs, stacked on top of one another, thicker than Dabi's and longer too, proportional for his body, but holding the same familiarly phallic shape that he expects. There are bumps along the top, ridges that move up his lengths to frame his head, and he's soaked, that thick slick dripping translucent from his heads and his slit. He whimpers. He wants to be full but-- but they're so big. 
Tomura's other hand cups his ass, pulling him open wider, his thumb brushing the edge of his flushed, puckered hole, and opening those stretched muscles again so he can dribble more of his slick inside. "Such a pretty color, little one." He purrs and makes Dabi tremble as his voice sinks that praise all the way into his bones. He presses forward, his heads rubbing against his hole, and he goes absolutely breathless with his anticipation. There's no way that he can fit both of those inside. A thin panic starts to go through him, terrified he'll be torn open, but the kir seems to recognize the tightening of his hole as nerves, seems to see the difference in their size, and he shifts to just focus on his lower member, letting the other glide between his cheeks instead as that blunt head starts to push inside of him. 
His cock is thicker than the amount of tail he was given, and the stretch, even through the slick, makes Dabi moan. Tomura starts to chitter too, purring his pleasure, and the translator can only tell him 'good' and 'hungry' as the kir slowly feeds his first cock into Dabi's body. He hopes that the other understands how good he's feeling as well, and tries to lave his tongue along his finger like he would if he had one of those thick, gorgeous cocks inside his mouth. It takes a moment before he's inside as deeply as he can go, purring the entire time. But once he is, he starts to gently rock his hips, and that immediately makes Dabi desperate for it. He doesn't know if he's ever wanted to be fucked harder in his entire life, and he can't stop himself from trying to immediately twitch his hips back to get more. 
For a split second he thinks he must have done something very wrong because Tomura snarls, his grip tightening everywhere. He's certain for a moment that he's about to die impaled on this creature's cock, but then he's pulling his hips back and snapping them forward into his body. Dabi lets out a loud cry of pleasure, his cock twitching and begging for release as the kir sets to a fast, brutal pace that pushes Dabi deeper into the bedding. 
He's blinded by his pleasure, by the rough thrusts of the other man, and he can't even swallow around the finger in his mouth anymore, drool slipping out past his lips. But as he gets more pliant, Tomura must think he's ready for more, because he draws his hips nearly all the way back on one thrust, and then there are both heads at his hole again. He doesn't have a chance to tighten, to fear, this time because it's a smooth movement, eased by his slick, and unrelenting in the even pace he uses, as he fucks both of his cocks into his hole. 
Dabi has never been this full before. Hasn't ever felt such blinding, perfect pressure against every inch of his inner walls, a constant, hard press against his prostate just from how deeply his cocks are reaching and how wide they're stretching him. And he can't hold on. Dabi gives a broken sob as his balls tighten as he's made so, so full, and he cums all over the creature's bed. 
"That's it, little one," Tomura chitters, his other hand going to Dabi's softening cock and cupping him, keeping his sharp talons far from his skin. "Such a good boy, showing me how good you feel. Show me again." 
He doesn't have the breath, or the use of his tongue to tell the other that he can't again immediately, but it doesn't matter. Tomura keeps fucking him, his cock pushing pleasure along every inch of his nerves until Dabi thinks he might tear around it. And he doesn't stop until Dabi is hard again and moaning and sobbing constantly as Tomura's thrusts and growls go through him and make him so, so hot. He didn't know he could feel like this-- he's never wanted someone like he wants Tomura right now. and it's with a fresh sob that he finds himself going impossibly tighter around the kir's cocks as his own pulses with pleasure as he spills across the bed a second time. 
The tightening of his muscles again seems to be what pushes Tomura over the edge, his hips slamming hard into Dabi's, putting his cocks as deeply inside of his body as possible, and then he snarls. The sound should be terrifying, but it only makes Dabi keen with an animal pleasure he's never felt before, as his cocks twitch and he soaks his insides with his cum. 
It takes so long for him to stop spilling, and by the time he has, both of their breaths are just starting to calm from the way they were echoing around the little burrow. He pulls out and Dabi mewls as he feels the flood of him go down his legs and soak the bedding. But Tomura doesn't seem to care. He purrs and chuffs at him, 'content, content, content', pulling Dabi's exhausted body in close as he licks the tears from his cheeks, but he doesn't take his finger out of his mouth. Dabi doesn't protest it, slumping against his chest and letting himself be soothed to sleep by the happy purrs deep in his throat. 
///
When he wakes again, he's horribly sticky, and still cuddled up tight against Tomura's chest, his jaw aching a little because he still has the tip of his finger between his lips. Dabi tries to shake the last of the sleepiness and reaches up to pull on Tomura's wrist. The kir looks at him, his tail twitching with his agitation, but he hesitantly lets him take it from his lips. A low, clicky, chirp leaves his throat as he does, and Dabi frowns as the translator tells him 'fear'. 
"What's wrong?" His throat feels a little thick, and he really is gross from the mix of sweat, cum, and bedding stuck to his skin, But he does not want Tomura to be scared, or threatened, by him. He doesn't even want to imagine how badly that would go. 
"...Typically, we don't stay with our mate after we've finished." He says carefully, watching Dabi like he might be the dangerous one. "Females try to incapacitate males once they've finished mating. They often tear or bite off their mate's--" 
Dabi blanches. "Humans don't do that," he tells the other quickly. "Humans can stay with their partners if they want to, they raise their young together sometimes, no one gets hurt in our mating unless they want that, or unless... something else is going on that's not okay." He doesn't want to elaborate on that now, not when he's trying to put the other at ease. He catches his hand, lacing their fingers together, running one of his along the heavily armored one. "...You keep females gagged so they can't.. bite?" And clearly evolved this as a way of doing so. 
"Yes... Do humans not eat their mates?" 
"Not like that." Dabi explains. "Why do kir?" 
"Once impregnated, it becomes hard for a female to hunt, if a male can't escape before she's recovered from the coupling, she kills and eats him to sustain herself until she's ready to lay her clutch." He's fairly certain that sounds like the mating practices of some spiders on Earth and arachnid-like races that have been registered. He'll have to ask if female kir exhibit that same kind of sexual dimorphism later, but not right now. 
"Oh. Well, you don't have to worry about that with me. I'm not a kir and I'm not female. Humans don't use our mouths to hurt each other when we have sex, and we mate for pleasure, not just to make children." He explains carefully. A flicker of warmth goes through him. "I can show you what we use our mouths for." 
Tomura considers him for a moment, his other hand coming up to his jaw, his thumb catching his lower lip again. Dabi presses a kiss to the pad of his finger, waiting for him to decide. "Alright, little one. Show me." 
Dabi is still careful and slow as he moves up the creature's chest so that he can start by pressing a kiss to his cheek. His skin there is cool, but not covered in one of the thicker patches of scales that seem reserved for along the tops of his thighs, his back, chest, stomach, and along the backs of his arms. He peppers those little kisses along the seam of his elongated mouth, showing that there's nothing dangerous in the action before he takes a little breath, tries to push aside the flesh he's seen the other rend with his teeth, and gives him one against his lips. Tomura is still beneath him, letting him do what he pleases, and Dabi pulls back a little. 
"We use our tongues too-- just not our teeth. Can I?" He figures he's better off asking than having his tongue abruptly removed. 
"Be careful, you're so delicate, little one." The kir purrs and the sound of his voice, the soft concern in it, makes Dabi want to show him that his softness is good. That he can make it good for the other as well. 
He presses back in and seals their lips together, going slowly, but deliberately as he shows the other how to kiss him back. Tomura still hesitates when his tongue prods lightly at the seam of his lips, and Dabi tries to soothe away that concern by running his hands over his skin, along his chest, down to his waist as he all but climbs on top of the creature instead of just being cuddled against him. Tomura opens his mouth a little and Dabi slips his tongue inside, careful of his very, very sharp teeth. It takes some coaxing before their tongues are moving together, and Tomura's is so much longer and more flexible than Dabi's own, and he tastes like the fruits they'd eaten the night before, though mingled with the staleness of sleep. 
They kiss, and kiss, and the longer it goes on, the longer Dabi proves that his mouth isn't any danger to the other, the more bold Tomura grows, eventually even chancing slipping his tongue between Dabi's teeth and licking into his mouth the same way that Dabi had his. He moans, his cock starting to harden, because Tomura's tongue is longer, bigger, and settles inside with a weight that makes Dabi hungry for something else. 
He pulls back a little and when Tomura sees his cock starting to flush, he begins to purr loudly again, his tail moving up Dabi's thighs to prod at his hole again. Those nerves are so sensitive from being fucked before that Dabi immediately moans, rubbing himself against those questioning little touches, and then watching with his own fascination and arousal as that slit starts to show on the kir again. His skin separates along an invisible seam between his legs and a translucent fluid starts to leak out. His tail moves from Dabi's hole to tease along the lips of his sheath, making more of that slick ooze out, and when his tail is shiny with it, it goes back to Dabi's body. 
He hums, pleasure sparking down his spine, and a recklessness deep in him when he murmurs, "Humans kiss there too." 
Tomura chitters, a sharp surprised sound. "Do they now?" 
"Mmhmm," he agrees, trying not to get distracted as the tip of his tail slips inside. "Can I? Please? I like to lick my partner's cock-- cocks." He corrects. "I promise I don't bite." 
The kir hesitates a second but then lets out a low breath. "How can I deny my mate anything that would bring him pleasure?" And the words alone are doing it for him as he moves down Tomura's body. His tail stays stretching and teasing his hole, but Dabi is mostly focused on how badly he wants to have Tomura in his mouth. 
His heads are just starting to press out from his slit and Dabi gathers some of the slick dripping out across his fingers and gently slips one along the lower head and up into his sheath, just a bit. He glances up to make sure he isn't causing any discomfort, but Tomura is growling and purring as his cocks start to press out a little more. Dabi teases his fingers along and around him, finding the one place of Tomura's body that is as warm as his own. He licks his lips before bringing them to the head of his upper member, and then he licks gently against that sensitive part of his anatomy. The flavor of him is overwhelming. It's a sharp citrus flavor like so much of the fruit here, but it has a musky bitterness to it as well that tempers the flavor somewhat. It's a strange taste to have on his tongue, but not one he'll complain about, especially not when he hears the strained little chirp that the kir lets out as Dabi laves his tongue along him. 
He's more than wet enough with his natural lube for Dabi to be comfortable kissing him along his lengths as they continue to press out until he's fully erect again. And then Dabi leans in, and completely wraps his lips around the head of the upper one. Tomura growls as Dabi moves his tongue over him, reveling in just how soft his skin is. He forces himself to pull off, even though he wants nothing more than to have the weight of him in his mouth, stretching his jaw. 
"Can I keep going?" 
"Yes," The other sounds half crazed, a hand moving to catch his hair and pull him, trying to get more. 
Dabi laughs, pressing another teasing kiss to the one he hasn't sucked on yet. "I can't get both into my mouth, is that okay?" 
"Little one, anything you do with your mouth is more than enough." 
"If I tap your thigh, it means I need you to let go so I can breathe." He warns, but trusts the other not to hurt him, and too impatient to have his jaw stretched open again to wait for confirmation. 
Dabi figures he's representing the whole human race and their persistent love of both giving and receiving oral sex, so he doesn't do anything by half. He does his best to keep his head on and not drift away and just fall into the haze that having his mouth so full can put him into. He moves along his upper length, his hand wrapping around the lower one and stroking him in time with each movement of his head as he slowly bobs down lower, and lower, his tongue working over him. The ridges and texture along his cock feel as good in his mouth as they did when he had him inside of his body before, and he drools constantly against his tongue as he chitters, chirps, growls, and purrs in such a messy string of noises that goes straight to Dabi's cock and has him leaking against his stomach too. 
He lets himself warm up a bit longer before he takes a breath and then sinks down until his head is pressing past the tight ring of muscle into his throat. Dabi can immediately feel the stretch there and it has him moaning, sending those vibrations along Tomura's length and his hand tightens in his hair as he snarls again, his tail in turn, fucking deeper into Dabi's body. He tries to hold onto some sense of rhythm after that, but it feels impossible. He just can't stop himself, moaning and rocking, trying to be fucked from both ends, and Tomura obliges him. He starts to move his hips, lightly at first, but when Dabi sucks and swallows so hungrily around him, the movements get faster, harder, and Dabi is floating, taking in little sips of air between movements and moans as they move together. 
Dabi doesn't get a warning, forgot to say he would want one, when the kir is close. He just gets a sharper deeper flavor of citrus and salt on the back of his tongue, and then Tomura is holding him in place, holding himself deep in Dabi's throat, as he cums. The gush of it makes Dabi dizzy as he does his best to swallow and swallow, but it still feels like there's too much and he taps his fingers frantically against Tomura's thigh. The kir chitters and pulls out, and Dabi feels his cum drool across his chin, as he gasps for breath, moaning from how close he is to his own orgasm. 
Then Tomura pushes his thumb back as far as he can on one side of his jaw and keeps it spread open, "Give me your tongue, little one," he growls and Dabi can't do anything but moan deliriously and open wider, letting his cum-soaked tongue lull out over his lower teeth and sore lip. Tomura shifts, bringing his second, still hard cock, to his mouth and fucking it inside. he doesn't push into his throat this time, but being used like this, just held open for the other's pleasure makes Dabi's entire body burn with his need. He finds himself moaning and shifting, spreading his thighs around one of Tomura's and rubbing his dripping cock against the texture of his cool scales there. That sensation makes his nerves scream, and Dabi chases more and more of it. Tomura fucks his tail and cock into him at the same frantic, unrelenting pace, and in a matter of minutes, his cum is splashing across Dabi's tongue again, and Dabi is following him, cumming hard against his thigh as he tries to swallow as much as he can with his mouth held open. More of it just spills down his chin and onto their skin, but the kir is purring the entire time that Dabi shudders through his orgasm. 
"Gorgeous, little one. So beautiful, so wonderful. My mate," he praises, gently removing himself from inside of Dabi's body. Dabi can't even hold himself up anymore from how good his whole body feels in the wake of his orgasm. Tomura just gathers him up again, and holds him close, licking up the mess from his skin as he purrs and purrs. 
///
They can't keep their hands off of each other once they've started, and Tomura learns to wrap his serpentine tongue around Dabi's cock and lick, squeeze, and stroke him like that until he's falling apart. He delights in learning about his prostate and that his tongue can be as good as his tail or cocks to stimulate the gland as well, and make Dabi feel good too. And they still talk, they still share meals together when Tomura goes out to hunt, and Dabi grows accustomed to the creature purring and purring all day, every day, getting even louder whenever they touch. 
But for as good as the sex is, as kind as the kir has been to him, Dabi knows, and when he goes out to hunt again and Dabi is left with only the dwindling storm as company, he finds himself thinking about that again and again. He sits with those thoughts making him colder and when the other comes back with more fruit and a smaller reptilian quadrupedal corpse, Dabi knows he has to shatter this soft thing between them that feels so good. 
"Tomura?" 
"What is it, little one?" He asks, setting down the food and coming to get into Dabi's space, licking over his cheek as he scents him deeply. 
"...I'm not the first human you met." He says carefully, watching the creature's strange eyes. "Another group came here, right? In orange suits?" 
Tomura's lip curls back and he gives an unhappy hiss. "Yes. They were not like you. They were many and violent. They encroached on my territory," His tail flicks with his agitation. "They wanted to take my land as their own and claim the spoils of it." 
"...You killed them." 
"Of course." He doesn't sound concerned about that, but when Dabi doesn't say anything for a second, Tomura nuzzles in a little closer, chittering at him softly. "They were different from you, Dabi. You came to my home and asked for permission, you ensured you were not hurting me or my land. You met me with kindness, not violence. I will meet you in kind for as long as you stay here with me." He promises. 
Dabi lets out a shaky breath. Well, he guesses when he calls Fuyumi next time he's on the ship, he's going to have to actually thank her for smacking him all throughout high school until he finally grew some manners and tact. "The storm is going to stop soon, isn't it?" 
"You could stay anyway." Tomura offers, "I would never begrudge your company." 
He can't, but the kir seems to know that even without making him reject the offer outright. Instead Dabi wraps his arms around his neck and the other purrs softly before he leans in to give him a kiss. 
They don't eat until, much, much later. 
///
The rain does stop after another three days and Dabi watches it happen with a hollowness in his gut, even as Tomura brings him outside so that he can see the three foreign moons sitting high and lovely in the sky. He sits close to him as he calls back to base and Compress tells him that if he can retrieve his pod, then he should be ready to go as soon as he's able, the kir scratching at his neck almost constantly as he listens. They're already so far behind schedule that they really can't afford to linger, and they're sure he's ready to come home too. The Ingenuity has been his home for years, he should be excited to go back. There's a pit in his stomach as Dabi puts what he's taken out of his pack, back inside, and Tomura ensures that he's leaving with samples of every fruit that he's given him. 
He walks with him out through the mud that Dabi really would have expected to be thicker given how much rain they had, but it seems as though the temperature creeping higher and higher is sending it evaporating and choking the environment with humidity and fog. Tomura keeps an eye out, ensuring no creature is brave enough to try to hunt him. The lake is, unsurprisingly, flooded, coming up to the tree line, but with a press of a button, the submerged pod is able to dislodge itself from the soft earth and crawls up to where they're standing. And then there's really no stalling anymore even though it feels like there's lead in his chest. He's only just started to turn to Tomura when the kir wraps his tail around his waist, and cups his face between his hands and kisses him. Dabi meets it just as desperately. Fuck he's going to miss Tomura. It's a sharp burning ache of that deep in his chest. 
"Be safe in your travels, little one," Tomura murmurs, resting their foreheads together. "And if the moons allow, come back to me again?" 
He feels his throat tighten. Two more years of his trip surveying this sector, then a year minimum back on Earth, waiting with baited breath to find out if this planet will even be considered for deeper study given how hostile the kir can be. Another four months to travel out here again. That's so long. Tomura might not even still be here when he gets back-- if he does. "I'll try. Thank you, for everything. I wouldn't have survived without you and I'm so glad that we were able to meet." He gets up on his tiptoes, and Tomura gives him another kiss. 
"...Be safe, Dabi." He seems reluctant to let go of him, but he has to, and Dabi steps away and seals up his suit and puts on his helmet. 
He doesn't dare watch out the window as he gets inside and does his final checks for launch. He is not gonna walk back into the Ingenuity crying. 
///
When he arrives back, he's immediately put in full quarantine. It's standard procedure for an extended stay on a foreign planet and Dabi subjects himself to it without complaint. Twice has him go through a barrage of medical scans, even as all of them talk to him through the glass like he's a zoo animal about how happy they are he's back. And he is happy to see them again. He did miss the familiar halls, their faces, but he doesn't think he does a very good job of hiding his melancholy. Definitely not when Magne and Compress come to see him at around midnight the third night that he's in quarantine and they pour him a shot before carefully passing it through one of the special hatches in his containment unit, before they both take a seat on the other side. 
"So Twice reviewed your vitals data from while you were planet-side." Magne starts. "I tell you a guy killed six people and you immediately have to get on that as fast as possible?" She teases carefully. 
But Dabi doesn't want to tease, doesn't want to make light of something that felt so... solid. Real. It only was a week and a half and Dabi is pretty sure it's the only romantic entanglement he's had in his life that made him want to stick around and find out how much more that could be. He drinks instead of answering her and Compress takes that as his cue to step in. 
"Dabi, whatever happened on the planet... if you're in need of counseling or assistance--" 
"Wasn't forced, Mister," he says flatly. "Tomura was good to me. He didn't like that the Proximacard crew tried to pull their colonizing bullshit. I was polite, he didn't see me as a threat, and we got close." He puts his cup back into the slot, waiting for it to be decontaminated before Magne can pour him another. "I've started writing my report, I'm being as thorough as possible." 
"...I'm sure there are things that you won't be including in that report. And that's fine, Dabi." Compress tells him gently. "But we're here as your friends. If that's something you need right now." 
Magne pours herself and Compress a shot and then puts the whole bottle in the chamber for Dabi. "Come on, firecracker, tell us about the scary lizard boy you had to hump and dump." 
"He purrs like a cat." He grumbles, taking the bottle when it's relinquished. "And he's got two dicks." 
"Oh, well, I could overlook murder for that too," she agrees sagely and Dabi tries to unravel the knot of sorrow that's been living in his gut. 
///
It's not years before Dabi is touching down far closer to the cave system that he spent so much time in before. It's only six months. Six long, agonizing months negotiating his contract. He'll still have to go back to the nearest base in a year and a half if Tomura lets him stay, and he'll be responsible for trying to find a way of harvesting the fruit of the uzut to try and find a sustainable way of getting more of the Ladreynyx for further study-- but he can stay here if Tomura lets him. 
He disembarks with a shaky breath. He has his own ship now, not a pod. It's small, only big enough for him and maybe one other person, and it won't be able to travel long distances, but it's his, and it can take him away if he's not welcome anymore. God, Dabi hopes he's still welcome. He takes off his helmet before he steps out of the ship, hoping that seeing his face will ensure that he doesn't draw any undue ire from the kir. 
"Tomura?" He calls into the forest, into the cave. Things are so quiet for a second and then he hears twigs snapping, and before he can fully turn, the kir is breaking through the tree line and rushing up to him. Dabi has a split second of terror that he'd mistaken what happened between them, his heart going to have to break before it stops beating-- but then he hears Tomura's familiar purrs as his hands catch his face and his tail wraps around his waist as he's hoisted from the ground so that the kir can chitter and purr at him as he brings their mouths together in a series of frantic, needy kisses. 
"Dabi," his name is spoken with such reverence between the kisses that it leaves him breathless. "You're back--"
"I'm back," he agrees, warmth blooming in his stomach as he curls his hands over the kir's shoulders. "I can stay, if you'll let me--" 
"I regretted letting you go the moment you left." And Dabi thinks, maybe, if he didn't know the other creature so well, that might be a frightening sentiment. But instead he feels so warm. 
"I've been trying to come back ever since. I have obligations, my company wants me to send more samples, and I'll have to leave again for a little while to check in, but I can stay," his voice still goes small. "I can stay?" Because this is for so much longer than before, this is asking a lot of a creature whose race typically lives in solitary. 
"By my side forever, little one." Tomura promises him, leaning in to nuzzle at him and scent his skin. "So I never have to miss you so fiercely again." 
Dabi doesn't know if kir have a word for love in the romantic sense when they barely hold ties to their families. But Dabi hopes that a year and a half to start is long enough for him to figure out how to explain the concept. 
Thank you so much for reading and thank you @norsetenko for commissioning this piece! If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a comment, they brighten my day!
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leonsliga · 2 days
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Leon Goretzka for Sports Illustrated Deutschland
-> In this Sports Illustrated interview, Leon discusses not being called up to the national team, his character, and handling high pressure situations. The new Adidas Bodycare brand ambassador also discusses his hopes for the future.
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On the pitch you show strength, off the pitch you are known for your social commitment. How is it that you are so present and outspoken?
That has envolved over the course of my life, but the sense of justice has always been within me. The only thing that has changed over the course of my career is that I now have a much greater reach and more people hear my opinions.
How difficult is it to fight against adversity? Can something like this be trained or is it something you’re born with?
You have to learn to deal with it. Then you can take a clear stance—or you can just leave it be. Everyone has to decide that for themselves. But I can cope with resistance, even though some of the things that come at me these days are extreme.
How do you deal with pressure and disappointment?
Pressure is something very positive for me. I really like it. It probably helps me in my job too. When it mattered most, I was able to deliver top performances. I like a bit of pre-match jitters. That's why I'm not afraid of pressure. Disappointments are also part of it. You learn that very early on, especially in football. Losing games starts in training. But that’s why you play in a team; that's the beauty of team sports—that you can support each other. Like at FC Bayern this season, which wasn't quite as successful as we had expected and were used to. These are experiences that you can take with you and mature from.
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Did it hurt you a lot not to be called up for the national team?
It was an extreme disappointment for me because I didn’t expect it. Afterwards, I gave myself a day to come to terms with the situation. The day after that, I looked at how I could rectify it. The best way to do that is to perform at your best and accept this new role.
How hopeful are you that you will be at Euro 2024?
Very.
What is your emotional world like? Do you always allow all feelings—even the negative ones?
Everyone has to find out for themselves how they deal with feelings. My recommendation would be to talk about them, but I don't always manage that either. I like to work things out on my own and let the process mature within me. I can draw strength from that.
How do you strike a balance between self-criticism and self-confidence?
Self-criticism and self-confidence are mutually dependent. Telling yourself that you are the best has nothing to do with self-confidence. You are strongest when you also know your weaknesses.
As a leader, do you always have to live up to the sometimes very high expectations?
Yes, that's the job of a footballer. We live in a fast-paced, day-to-day business. You're only ever as good as you were in the last game. In my career in club football, I've won all the major titles that you can win with a big club like FC Bayern. Nevertheless, this season I have experienced what it means to be criticized as a leader. It reminds you that you are obliged to perform week in, week out.
How do you build yourself back up again when things aren't going your way? Do you train even more then?
I don't make my training dependent on situations that I experience week after week. I have long-term training plans. But of course, the motivation to correct things when they go poorly is always there.
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What role do negative fan opinions play? Should they be ignored?
You have to accept these things. Everyone has their own opinion. Of course, it would be nice if things were a bit more civilized, but unfortunately that's not the case. This doesn't just apply to football; it can happen to anyone on social media. It's extremely disappointing. We should think about how this can be regulated. I'm lucky that things don't bother me too much. But there are certainly many users who unfortunately don't get on so well with it.
The football business can be very tough. What do you wish for the future of football, especially for the players?
I don't know if I should give an honest answer to that.
We’re asking for one.
If I'm completely honest, we should stop trying to generate clicks at the expense of the players—both on social media and in reports.
Can football help people and society feel more positive?
The 2006 World Cup showed how football can galvanize our country. Germany's enthusiasm and interest in football are certainly back. As players, we can influence this huge potential if the German national team performs well.
You are an ambassador for Adidas Bodycare. What does "well-being" mean to you?
For me, "well-being" means that I have an awareness of my body. For the balance between strain and relief, but also for regeneration. Ultimately, it’s also about work-life balance.
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yourqueenb · 7 months
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Imo one of the issues was that MC was assuming motives and working solely off of that instead of conducting the investigation with an open mind and based on evidence found. It caused her to read too much into or make the wrong inferences from irrelevant pieces of information in the conversations we had.
Of course it’s fine to have general theories. Someone trying to prevent the Act from passing would make sense. Sebastyan being jealous and Juliana’s potential ex lover would also make sense. But I feel like operating completely off of whatever theory comes to mind first instead of allowing evidence to lead them in the right direction made Trystan and MC easy to manipulate, causing the investigation to drag out longer than necessary. Holding too tightly to a theory is honestly a rookie mistake for a detective. And this MC is supposed to be smarter and more experienced than that
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imwritesometimes · 16 days
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Lavender Vanilla Cake 🎂 💐
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Andrew Minyard puts on the world cup just to annoy Kevin and Neil
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seraphsfire · 2 months
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...
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pumpkinrootbeer · 7 months
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Not to rant about thg but to rant abt thg something that has always bothered me with all the hunger games dupes in the 2010s is the way they hollowly take aspects and apply them on a blanket level onto their world. Like a big critique of the ya genre is "why is it always teenagers in these situations" when thg had this clear explicit reason as to why the age range was teenagers and what that said about this society Suzanne Collins was trying to set up. A fictional society she was pretty explicitly using as a critique of real world american culture. Like it is not subtle!
And yes obviously ya novels use primarily 12-18 yr olds in their stories is because that age rage is typically the most marketable and the hunger games isn't this like radical exception to that, but what makes it stand out to me is that she had a narrative reason for that trope that isn't just "highschool kids meddling"
Just like how so many take the idea of "oppression government" and "being grouped into different divisions of society" at completely face value and don't try to add any meaningful depth. Even the love triangle, an aspect of those books I see torn to shreds constantly, was used as a device to analyze Katniss's character and motivations AND a way to explore that even her relationships are under control of this government. It all had purpose.
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craycraybluejay · 6 months
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Bruh I be having literally the worst urges and I feel bad that I don't feel bad at all. Like damn. Guess I'm really like that. Well, anyway.
#i am apathetic to whatever monstrosities lie within my mindscape#or rather i enjoy them and am apathetic to the idea that they are evil#unfortunately the fact that I'm excited ab them makes me rly rly rly want to talk ab them#which would be bad#but if it gets bad enough i think its time i let my therapist in on the next circle of anouther hell#i know she will be kind no matter what i spring on her#but this. i dont know how to feel or what to think about all this#its pathological. i can fix it about as well as i can fix the fact that i adore music or get turned on by fear or am consistently-#-platonically or otherwise pulled to murderers and the like#i know its some psychosexual nonsense-- some fixation rooted in some perverse symbolism that i cant fully grasp#its so difficult to be a BadWrong thoughts and desires person#bc even tho i have like. some level of control and ethicsband whatnot. even tho im not doing the guilt ocd thing.#even though i know im ok the way i am#i also know i cant talk ab it. cant be excited about it. cant vent or happy rant about it. stay quiet. let it eat ya#cause ppl cant accept some things cant like. come to terms with things. again and again#i find myself relating more to 'good people' but being able to talk more openly and honestly with 'bad people'#like im too far from either side to ever be fully myself but i must let it out#and so i find i cant trust the people i love most with some of the most personal things more than i can trust a complete stranger#because at least that stranger has no spare room to judge. and i cant give af about losing a strangers high esteem of me#i share something truly heinous and sure i may be threatened but. disappointment from ppl u love is worse than murderous rage from strangers#which came first- the fixation or the corruption? i think it was the fixation#i was like that before. whatever false indulgences i have given myself will always sate the beast and not create it#i am not a bad person. but i will always have a monster inside me. a balancing act between#being a somewhat polite functioning member of society and completely losing myself to the dark#i dont hate myself. i wish i did sometimes so i wouldnt have the urge to vomit it all out#i wish i hated myself and felt such guilt over all that so i could be happy with being quiet. i wish it was only good that excited me proper#or rather i wish i knew someone like me in the right ways. irl. no phones no danger. who i could share with excitedly and not feel like ill#be told that im a freak who deserves to die. someone who will share equally horrific things with me and will keep me in check#i want talk therapy but with someone that has something SO wrong with them. a friendship that is nasty and fun and grossly honest#someone to say 'i know what ur talking ab/how u feel' when i say something pitch dark
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opaline-entropy · 5 months
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I'm getting the hyperfixation feeling but specifically for vampires. Like my brain is tingling about vampires specifically, and idk why
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dreampearls · 1 year
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I love collei so much but it should be noted. the collei that I love is the completely fake ideal version of her that only exists inside of my head
#well and lee's too. tbh#being completely honest i think i would actually dislike collei had i not read the webtoon#not for any serious reason its just that her portrayal in the game is like... very two dimensional i guess#she just comes across a very palatably shy cute girl yknow.. not to mention how her eleazar is treated#it just so happened that i got attached to her so my anger got redirected#towards hoyoverse as a whole for writing her like that#but initially it was like.. directed towards her as a character i was very neutral on the cusp of being annoyed by her#or rather like... the concept/trope that she represents i guess#all of the things that make collei so interesting to me are practically nonexistant in the game#(for now) im hoping the rest of windblume continues to expand upon her character#but also id be pretty disappointed if the extent of what they do with her is just... she doesnt want to be shy#which is like. Fine i dont think its horrible#but one of the primary things that make her such an interesting character to me is her anger#how it was the only emotion she let herself feel for a long time and howit was the one constant she could rely on#in a world that she principally not trust out of survival#and now that she doesnt want to be angry anymore shes at a loss at how to fill the void#because its so much easier to be angry than it is to be anything else#i think the concept of her struggling to become a kinder person is Soooooo vastly interesting and adds so much more to her character#but unfortunately thats all stuff that only exists in my head. and i doubt it will get much mention in the game#even with windblume happening#colleiction
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theflyingfeeling · 2 years
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For those who are interested in what I have managed to write for my "Gran Hotel AU" so far: ta-da!
..and those who have no idea/memory of what I'm on about: last spring I wrote this short fic in the AU I had come up with (loosely inspired by my trip to Dublin and the Spanish TV series Gran Hotel). This part below I wrote last summmer, and it's actually chapter 3, but since chapter 2 is about a different character entirely, it's not too illogical to read this one first, in my opinion. That is, if there ever will be chapter 2 😅😩 I put my outline for chapter 2 in the tags (mild spoiler alert)! I also suggest you read my ideas for the AU in general in the tags of the post linked above, otherwise I'm afraid this won't make much sense 😆
~
The grove of the family cemetery greeted Joel like an old friend, taking him into its cool embrace, which Joel was grateful for in the heat of the late afternoon.
He walked past his grandparents’ and great-grandparents’ graves, only stopping to snip a dried leaf off the light blue violet in front of his paternal grandmother’s tombstone. In his mind Joel promised to bring her fresh ones for her next name day. Grandmama would understand, he thought. She always did.
By the duck pond Joel dropped by the resting place of his father’s twin brother, taken by pneumonia only two days before their sixth birthday. With no one having actively tended to the grave since grandmama’s passing nearly a decade ago, the old stone had begun to grow moss, all but covering the golden carvings. Usually Joel was too inside his own head to mind the grave of an uncle he never came to know other than from grandmama’s stories, but today something pulled him towards the plain, small mound to root out most of the weeds thriving on it. Perhaps he had heard grandmama’s authoritative voice in his ears for a split second.
From there he continued his unhurried journey deeper into the memorial park, anticipating as much as awaiting the final few stops on his tour, until he arrived at his father’s grave.
The white lilies had dried weeks ago already, but Joel was yet to find the energy or motivation to throw them away. The carvings on the stone were still fresh, however, standing out from the already worn ones on the right side of the stone.
Like every day for the past almost four weeks, Joel had no clue what to say. Say nothing, Joonas would have advised him, he ain’t gonna hear you anyway, he’s dead. 
Ironically, Joel had not said a whole lot to his father when he had still been alive either.
Be as it may, something about the cemetery always made Joel talkative. He couldn’t have explained it if he tried to, but he supposed grandmama’s habit of walking in between the tombstones having full conversations with her long-deceased parents, her late husband and her baby boy had something to do with it. Joonas had always found it a little creepy and had politely declined grandmama’s plea for him to come along and learn about the history of his family, whereas Joel had gone with her each time, following on her heels and helping her take care of the flowers. One time, when grandmama had already needed a walking stick to support herself, she had asked Joel to look after the family graves and the garden surrounding them once she would be “gone to meet her maker”, as she had put it then. Joel had promised, but only after grandmama had reassured he wouldn’t have to go near the eerie, tumbledown mausoleum of his great-grandparents’, the founders of the Hokka estate.
That was why Joel often found himself crouching in front of names that no longer lived in people’s mouths, at least not the way they used to, staring at the dates that had changed his life forever, biting his lip in a failed attempt to keep himself from spitting out the disrespectful words.
“Fuck you.” 
He grabbed a fistful of grass in his palm and continued without opening his mouth to speak the words out loud.
Fuck you for treating her the way you did.
Fuck you for treating them both the way you did. 
Fuck you for treating us the way you did.
Fuck you for loving a bottle of whiskey more than your sons.
Fuck you for tending your minibar with more compassion and care than the legacy you’d be passing on to us.
Fuck you for dying of a heart attack at 65 and leaving us with this sinking ship.
Joel threw the shredded grass on the drooped lilies.
Fuck you for not being here for me.
When the letters on the tombstone began to blur, Joel looked away to get a hold of himself once more before he would move on. Visiting his father’s grave filled him with so much anger and bitterness and inexplicable hopelessness that he felt like skipping it altogether, but so far he hadn’t had the guts to do so, as if his old man’s disappointed look was still nailed to his back.
Having found his regular breathing frequency again, Joel stood up and turned to the pink roses growing in front of the right-hand half of the stone. 
The woman resting in the casket six feet under may not have been Joel’s real mother, but she was the only mother he had ever had.
Although she had had a tendency to favour her biological son when it came to deciding which birthday boy was served the last piece of the strawberry cake (even if Joonas was, more often than not, willing to share) or who was bought new clothes more frequently, Joonas’ mother was still the kindest woman Joel knew and had truly loved Joel as he was her own.
The only time Joonas ever visited the cemetery was when they planted the roses on her every birthday in the beginning of June. 
The last time Joel had seen Joonas cry was the day she had died, on a frosty February morning when Joonas had been fifteen and Joel sixteen. They had held each other close on Joonas’ bed, listening to their father breaking glasses in the office room above them.
‘Cause of death: fever’ Joel had read from the death certificate he had found in one of his father’s drawers in search of cigarettes, but in reality no one seemed to be certain what really had taken her. Their father had suspected it had been a food poisoning, and so he had had an excuse to take out his grief on the the blameless members of the staff and fired the chef and half the waiters, whereas grandmama had comforted the half-orphaned teenage sons that their mother’s heart had finally burst from loving her boys too much (which hadn’t been half as soothing as grandmama had probably intended it to be; instead, it had given Joel nightmares for weeks). There had even been talk in the town that she had gone mad with jealousy over her husband’s numerous affairs and eventually fallen fatally ill, simply due to heartbreak and excruciating loneliness.
Joel, on the other hand, knew better. He knew she had been stronger than that, always trying her best to make sure Joonas and Joel had been outside playing or bothering the kitchen staff, far out of earshot whenever she had confronted her husband after finding yet another maid in his bed. He knew she must have been unhappy in her marriage, but also that she had been aware of what she had married into. Yet, she had chosen to stay, not because she had loved her husband that much, but because she had understood she could never have afforded as much as a roof above her head, let alone be allowed to take her boys with her, even if she had been able to provide evidence of the adultery committed by her husband. She had stayed, because despite how miserable her life had undoubtedly been from time to time, she had wanted to ensure a happy childhood for Joonas and Joel, one where they’d have at least one loving parent in their life.
She would have deserved so much better than an unfaithful drunkard of a husband with heaven knows how many secret lovers and possibly even more illegitimate children. She would have deserved a more honourable final resting place than that next to the honourless scoundrel who had selfishly demanded to be buried by her side; a pathetic excuse of a man who had never deserved one bit of her unselfishness.
Those were among the countless of other things Joel usually murmured as he sat in front of her grave, on the grass right by the roses, just to be closer to her. This time, however, he remained silent, only reaching his hand to caress the cheek of a porcelain angel Joonas and he had brought there on the first anniversary of her death. The angel was missing its right wing, broken when the statue had been knocked down in an exceptionally intense thunderstorm. Joel had been devastated by the loss, but Joonas had told him she probably didn’t mind; she had always been drawn to all things broken and imperfect. 
“You know, like that teacup without a handle she didn’t want to throw away because it had her favourite flower painted on it,” Joonas had said.
And me, Joel had almost added, the bastard son of her husband she could have easily thrown out of the house the second his father slid a ring on her finger and no one would have judged her for it. 
Instead, she had read him bedtime stories and kissed his knee better when he had fallen down from a tree, and Joel wished he had told her how grateful he was for it all when she had still been alive to hear it. Alas, around the time of her death, Joel had been an adolescent full of rage, too burdened by frustration and fear to worry about the mortality of his mother. 
“Joonas says hi,” he whispered to the tombstone. He touched two of his fingers to his lips and pressed them against the cold of the stone before getting up and walking away, towards the grave he always saved last on his tour.
During the years following their mother’s death, Joel and Joonas had kept receiving pitying looks and regretful words of condolence from members of the staff, the people of the town, and even the hotel guests who had gotten wind of the tragedy. “Poor boys,” they always said, “how ill-starred in life must one be, to lose his mother at such a young age.”
Yet, Joel had always thought Joonas was lucky.
At least he only had one mother to grieve.
Fair enough, Joel had never known his birth mother, the only daughter of Mr. Byström, who had been one of the most important investors of the hotel once upon a time. From the hotel’s tattletale receptionist Joel had heard that Mr. Byström and his wife had disappeared in a storm on their way across the Atlantic, only a week after Mr. Byström had asked Joel’s father to “take his girl under his wing”, should something happen to them during their journey.
Joel was pretty sure that by “taking his girl under his wing” Mr. Byström had not meant “knocking her up at the age of 19”.
Grandmama had never talked much about the circumstances of Joel’s birth, apart from the weather: “it was a real cloudburst, raining hounds and mousers for hours without end, and still your first scream was louder than any thunder that has ever roared above this house”. 
Joel supposed she had wanted to be considerate towards the lady of the estate by keeping the names of the hotel owner’s previous lovers out of her mouth, although it wasn’t like Joel’s mother had ever been given such a privilege to begin with.
When Joel had been but six months old, his mother had understood the rumours she had heard weren’t just rumours. For two more months she had borne looking at young Miss Porko’s swelling belly before she had filled the pockets of her trench coat with rocks and jumped down the bridge crossing the river that ran by the estate.
Hence, there was nothing but soil below the wonky wooden cross Joel had erected in her memory in the farthest corner of the memorial park, in the shade of an enormous, over a century-old oak tree. Even if her body had been found, she would have been buried nowhere near the estate, for she had never officially been part of the family. Still, Joel had wanted a place to visit her, to talk to her, and since the bridge from which she had jumped to her underwater grave had rotted away years ago, he had had no choice but to make her a memorial on his own.
When Joel arrived at the cross, he sighed as he saw it having fallen down again and crouched down to straighten it. Then he took the rose from behind his ear and stuck it in the soil, next to all the other ones in various stages of wilt.
Some days he talked to her about his day; how he had gotten out of bed just in time for supper and avoided everyone until leaving the house when the sun began to set. 
Other days he just sat there, wondering what on earth he should say to a mother who had not lived to see her firstborn’s first birthday. 
It most likely would have killed her anyway, had she not done the job herself; as if by some cursed twist of fate, Miss Porko’s son was born on the 5th of October, exactly one year after Joel’s birth. And while Joel had been welcomed to the world with an intense downpour, Joonas’ arrival had ended nearly two weeks of rainfall and lured out the first rays of the sun in almost a month, if Joel was to believe his grandmama, who had always loved to reminisce about the events of that day.
From across the cemetery Joel had one day dragged an old wooden bench that had been situated near the grave of a long-forgotten relative – an uncle who, according to grandmama, “had always been a bit of a pillock” – and replaced it in front of his mother’s. There he sat for hours on end, staring at the cross and the roses, asking the universe over and over again what life would be like for him if his birth mother had lived for longer than twenty years and seven months.
Or if Joonas’ mother had not collapsed all of a sudden when getting out of the bath while Joonas and Joel had been busy arguing about who got to sit on the front seat of their father’s new Mercedes.
Or if grandmama was still around, offering her prickly life wisdom at every turn.
Or if his father was lying passed out on the couch of his office instead of dead in his grave. Maybe one of these days Joel would have had the courage to say all the things he wanted to say to him.
As the sun disappeared behind the forest looming at the border of the estate, Joel lay on his side on the bench and hugged his knees to his chest. He kept his gaze fixed on the white cross for as long as he could still see it before it got too dark, before tiredness forced him to close his eyes and wait for restless sleep to come.
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ironed out the piece i've been working on for the past four months with accompaniment today and then asked my teacher a question about one of my contemporary orchestra pieces and she took one look at the section, flipped to the first page to see who wrote it, and said in the most gently chiding voice "well that's not very nice of you, [composer name]"
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