Characters: Yondu Udonta, Kraglin Obfonteri,
Relationships: Yondu Udonta/Kraglin Obfonteri
Tags: established relationship, pillow talk, except depressing Ravager styles, mentions of slavery, mentions of child abuse, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of non-consensual body modifications, mild angst, implant history, science and shit, smartypants!Yondu, lovestruck!Kraglin,
Summary: He doesn't ask Yondu about his scars.
Prompt Three: Rising/Falling
A/N: Making Yondu explain something super smart in his own Yondu-ish way is a challenge I love to accept XD
The concept of Hrax and Hraxian!Kraglin comes from the incredible Write_Like_An_American, who's stories I utterly adore 3 (and you should totally go read, like, all of them because they are amazing) So, shout to them for creating it because none of my stories would exist without their ideas :)
Part Three of Yondu Week 2019.
#yonduweek
They're lying in bed one night when Yondu asked about the mangled mess that's Kraglin's right knee. The Hraxian replied it was a riot police 'warning shot' – the buck shot just about shredded his knee cap. It was held together with a myriad of fencing wire, bolts and various knee braces – that was until Kraglin had joined the Ravagers and earned enough pay to get the thing replaced. Still the scarring would never go away.
He doesn't ask Yondu about his scars.
It's a separate night, months later – this time Yondu's head was lying on Kraglin's chest and the taller man was watching the rise and fall of his scarred shoulder, in time with his breaths.
"Centaurian slaves weren't never allowed a natural crest." The man murmured, breath ghosting across Kraglin's chest hair lightly. "Gave us tha power, see? Tha Kree couldn't shut off our natural abilities."
"I ain't never thought 'bout it like that, sir." Kraglin replied quietly.
"Tha tahlei starts as a fin when yer a young'in, it's a flexible thing, enables lil'ns ta fit inta pouches an' such. Once ya start ta grow tho' tha thing begins ta harden inta a bone crest. I were 'bout five when they hacked off mine. They chained me up in a tiled room – dried blood e'erywhere – ma face were squished up against tha wall, someone else's blood smearin' ma mouth. They wrenched ma head back an' started hackin'. They got most o' tha way down ma spine 'fore I passed out. When I woke up, I couldn't feel 'em no more."
"Feel who?" Kraglin asked, voice cracking with emotion.
"Tha other slaves." Yondu tapped his temple lightly. "Use'ta be able ta sense otha people – emotions an' shit."
The Hraxian took a shaky breath, he was honoured Yondu would share this with him – didn't make it any easier to hear, not when he'd gone and caught so much damn sentiment for the Centaurian over the years.
"I dunno how long it were 'til they did tha next bit, but it were long 'nough fer tha wounds on ma spine ta heal. They took me 'gain, same room, same soulless fuck who'd hacked tha crest off. Chained me to a table, started shootin' me up with all sorts'a shit. Reckon one o' them must'a been a knockout drug, 'cause next time I woke up I were back in tha cage wit' a mess o' wires in ma skull."
Kraglin could feel a tear worming its way down the side of his face as he listened. "Them wires were fer tha implant?"
Yondu's beard scratched along the Hraxian's peck as he nodded, "Yeah – turns out they hadda wire up tha controls fer tha yakka implant. 'At's why it works similar ta tha crest did, all tha wires are shoved into tha parts o' ma brain that connected ta tha tahlei. Once they got tha thing clicked in, they send ya inta tha practice cages fer hours a day – ya whistle tha arrow inta tha targets 'til yer lips 're cracked an' yer voice is hoarse."
"Treated like animals."
"'Xactly. Thing was, if ya thought ya could git out, ya were wrong. Tha implants got disconnected remotely so ya couldn't operate 'em 'less ya were in tha practice cages or on tha field. Ya try anythin' funny when it were active an' ya got a nasty shock through ya skull ta keep ya in line. If e'eryone got rowdy an' them bastards thought they was gon' end up wit' a revolt, they'd EMP tha lot o' us an' knock us all tha fuck out." Yondu scratched his nails absently through Kraglin's chest hair. "Kree had us at e'very turn. 'At's why when Stakar cut ma collar tha first thing I taught maself was how ta tinker wit' tha implant. Worked tha thing over real gud."
"What'cha do, sir?" Kraglin asked, passing a gentle hand across the warm metal in the captain's skull.
The Centaurian made a sound deep in his chest that Kraglin would never call purring outside his own head, no matter how adorable it was, he wasn't about to provoke any kind of wrath from the man curled around him.
"Started off by makin' it impossible ta control or hack remotely, removing tha implant is easy enough, it's workin' on tha wires in yer own brain that's tha hard part."
Kraglin made a face, he couldn't imagine having to poke around in his own skull.
"Then I opened tha implant up and installed EMP shieldin' so no one could knock me out wit'out me knowin'. After that I just spent a while tinkerin' wit' it, honin' tha reaction time, response mechanisms – that sort'a crap."
The Hraxian smiled, Yondu was much smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for. He might not be fantastic with social cues, or math, and most beings didn't treat tomatoes like they were little demonic creatures in disguise – but the Centaurian had other skills that far surpassed even the most intellectual of beings.
"Never much hadda tinker wit' it beyond maintenance after that, 'cept one time."
"What were that fer, Cap'n?"
The Centaurian sighed, "Durin' tha first couple o' years I got nightmares – almost e'ery night. Just – same shit I got in tha pens really – bad fuckin' crap that happened over an' over, killin', bein' beat – that kinda junk. Thing were – when I was in tha pens, ya could wake up whistlin' an' nothin' would happen 'cause tha damn implant were inactive weren't it? Once I were freed, ma implant was always active." Yondu chuckled a bit, as he recalled the memory. "Killt four otha rookies 'fore Stakar thought it might be best ta gimme ma own space – least 'til I got maself under wraps an' all. Ended up puttin' holes all up through ma room, Stakar hadda pad tha whole thing out wit' mattresses an' shit so's I didn't fuck up any vital systems an' all that rot." He snickered, "I use'ta find it funny as fuck at first 'til I don' almost space maself one night."
Kraglin's head shot down to look at the older man, "What?"
Yondu glanced up at him wryly, "Shot a hole straight through tha bulkhead. Decompressed a whole quadrant o' tha Starhawk."
"Holy shit."
"Yeah – didn't find it so funny after tha'. So's I spent forty-eight hours awake tinkerin' away at tha implant 'til I made a delay in tha activation. I hadda git real good at understandin' tha brain real fast – how different parts interact an' why." He turned his face so his chin was digging into Kraglin's sternum as he spoke, eyes alight with enthusiasm as he animatedly explained further. "Like – tha brainstem an' tha hypothalamus are tha parts what send info ta tha cerebral cortex usin' neurotransmitters which be these chemical signals an' shit, that's what tha smarty boffins reckon make us awake an' tha like. It's complicated tho' 'cause them parts can also make ya sleepy too – brains are wild Krags. So short, non-sciencey explanation – I made a two-minute delay in tha implant response after I wake up so's I dun whistle maself dead in ma sleep."
Kraglin grinned at Yondu, "Yer so fuckin' smart, sir."
Yondu shrugged, "Eh."
Kraglin craned his neck downwards to peck the man on the lips, Yondu met him halfway with a gentle smirk.
"Thanks – fer sharin' all that wit' me – can'ta been easy."
Yondu nuzzled back into his side again and sighed contentedly. "'At's what sentiment is innit? Sharin' an' carin' an' crap?"
Kraglin snorted, "That's tha long an' short o' it, sure Cap'n."
"G'night Krags."
"Night, sir."