#but I needed to fix my tagging system anyway so maybe this is a good opportunity

[perdurabo-the-sequel93]

Hi, I’m Shiv and I’m a disabled 18 year old intersex guy living in a group home. I tried to move the blog I’ve had since I was 12 to a new url tonight and accidentally deleted years of art, writing, etc., including a bunch of vital resources I’ve saved. I change my url quite frequently (personality disorder go brrrr) so you may not recognize me even if we’re mutuals :( I’m a lot more active on Reddit than here because my old phone hated the tumblr app, but I’m trying to engage more and post some of my stuff I’ve made. Losing my account really hit hard because I’ve saved a whole lot of mental health resources that I use quite frequently, and I’m not sure how to get them back. If I follow you and you’re willing to help me recover stuff, could you please engage with this post a bit? I feel really shitty begging like this, it’s always been a pet peeve of mine, but I know there’re some chill people out there that’ll help me sort this out.

Thank youuuuu :))

[slocumjoe]

danse's romance route has some potholes

so, this post woke me from my slumber, have a ramble

This has always been a weird point for me, but I never got around to really figuring out what it was exactly until just now. I think all of the romantic candidates have out-of-place flirting, at least here and there, but Danse consistently has dialogue options to flirt with him at exactly the wrong fuckin time. The odd thing about Danse is that, most of the time, the normal Good/Yes answer is more romantic or sincerely affectionate than the flirt.

So, the Flirts.

The only Flirt that works is when he talks about his fear of losing people, and Sole says, "I care too much about you to do that to you." It's the first Flirt, and he responds by saying you've given him "something to think about." I've gone on about how Danse has never truly felt cared for. Sole's voice acting also sells this Flirt by being somewhat timid, unsure of saying this, but wanting him to know.

Danse's talks go Kreig > Cutler > Haylen > Help Im A Robot. The first time you can flirt with him is in the Cutler chat, where the "I care about you" line comes up. It's not out of left field from the conversation. It's affectionate, it doesn't overstep, but it pushes the line and makes Danse consider "oh shit, there's a lil something something going on here."

The "Would you hold me?" line is much less subtle.

Danse talks about how he doubts himself after Cambridge and Sole's reference to him hugging Haylen makes it seem like they've just been waiting for him to shut up to use that line on him. It's out of place, it circles back to a topic we've moved on from, and it's so overt it sucker-punches everyone involved, including the player. It's blunt.

The other options of "I'm here whenever you need me" or "I'm glad you feel better" are less flirtatious, but they imply more direct concern and care for Danse. Both lines are about Danse, and Sole being there for him. The actual Flirt is what Danse can do for Sole. This is such a weird nitpick, I know, but it comes off not as romantic, but more like Sole is trying to hook up with him. That would work with someone like Hancock, or maybe Piper, but Danse's romance involves more subtlety and slow-burn elements. It's too forward.

So, in his final talk...

It's literally "Kitten I'll be honest, Daddy's about to kill himself" "haha no don't kill yourself you're soooo sexy"

It comes right after he's having a lot of emotions about his reason for living. This is not the time to put the responsibility of a relationship on someone. Again, this is a flaw of the 4 Affinity Talks system. If you're just going for a platonic relationship with Danse, his talks work great, but his character arc is unfinished anyway. They have to shoehorn romance in there, and it doesn't have the room to develop naturally. It's why Sole has to explicitly say "Would you hold me ;>".

The strangest part is that his neutral/Friendly dialogue options are more affectionate and relationship-building. Again, the other options in the Haylen talk comfort Danse and reassure him.

Honestly, I think the best option, for all romancable companions, is within arms reach. You know how, if you don't romance someone, they'll bring up their last talk again and give you a barn door of an opening to broach the subject of a relationship again? Just. Do that/ It's literally what I did when I romanced Danse; don't romance him as soon as possible. Let it marinate.

The second chance to romance him goes the exact same way, eyebrows to space and all. It just takes place after Danse confesses how close he feels to you and trusts you and not RIGHT AFTER BLIND BETRAYAL.

It's easy to fix the pacing just by not going for the smooch ASAP, but the flirting is awkward. It's worth noting that the line before the Haylen flirt "It's comforting to know that I can speak to you as more than just your commanding officer" has it's own Flirting tag on it. Danse flirts with Sole here, canonically.

A cheap and easy rewrite is Sole echoing the sentiment with something like, "It's comforting to know that you're more than my commanding officer." This leaves room for interpretation. What else is Danse? Sole has an idea, but leaves Danse to wonder about it. It also confirms to Danse "yes, we have a personal bond and this isn't just a work thing."

I think the core of Danse's romance is this dude realizing that he's loved and cared for, truly. Cait has a similar arc, but hers has different complications and contexts than Danse. Danse needs a slow-burn romance full of soft moments and instances of Sole reminding him of his own humanity, even long before the synth thing.

It's worth noting that the "i care too much about you" line is still kinda overshadowed by the "But I wanna be a mutant" joke. That joke makes him laugh, he jokes back without missing a beat, and it's a cute little bonding moment between him and Sole. Romance isn't just overt flirting, it's the little things that make you think the other person is special. How many people do you think can make Danse laugh? Especially about becoming a Super Mutant, right after being told about Cutler? Danse thinks Sole is funny. He thinks it's a cute little joke. He's charmed.

Then Sole sucker-punches him with an explicit ask of physical contact and emotional exploration and the moment is lost. For the Halyen talk, you could have an option where Sole asks, teasingly, if this is going on the report, and Danse laughs and contemplates what Maxson would think. Maybe he even comments about how rumors spread on the Prydwen, implying that he knows there is something between you two for people to gossip about. This would later tie in to The Reveal, where Maxson says the same thing.

[firemenenthusiast]

the tag is so cute but lmk if this works cs the post is still up 💔

https://x.com/SexualLoverz/status/1778850070810542313

basicalky tho shes riding his face while hes cuffed n all, i can go into more detail if it doesnt work js lmk x

shout out to stacie for the request ! (and for waiting for a damn long time for me to write, im sorry 😭)

—“influence”

sub!kai x reader

summary: based on the link above (account got suspended btw), kai is a dumbass who is easily influenced by zac who’s NOT a good person 🤯

warnings: 18+, smut, p link, sub!kai, no actual penetration, face sitting, face riding, cunnilingus, name calling (bitch & slut) 😢, cumming in pants, restraints (m! receiving)

a/n: guess who’s back LMAOOO guys uni is no joke im getting my ass beat

hate’s maybe too strong of a word to describe your dislike towards zac but everything he does pisses you off. it’s like theres physically a bad bone in his body navigating him in making stupid and evil decisions. like telling kai to stop others from taking the blue, resulting in chaos on the ship since richard’s no longer here to keep things in line. he was also the one who thought it was a good idea to have a party, celebrating god knows what, eating and wasting every resources you guys had on the ship.

he was also the reason the ship’s data room got destroyed and everyone had to clean up after him. the ship’s up and running again now, thanks to christopher. but the reason you hate zac is because he’s such a bad influence to kai. you couldn’t blame kai for the things he’d done, he wouldn’t have done them if it wasn’t because zac told him to.

maybe he just felt like that was his calling, like he had a purpose on that ship, leading him to do everything zac told him to eventho they’re stupid. in reality he’s more than that, he’s actually really smart, and good with electricals. he’s also really nice to you, it’s just that he tends to do the stupid things zac tells him to do because he thinks he’s not good enough. he needs to feel like he’s important, which is why he never wanna leave your side. you make him feel special, and needed. between that and the lack of blue in his system, he had grown to be really clingy with you. and his needs, his certain needs, now washing over him like a big perpetual confusing wave

you hear his stalking steps behind, following you through the ominous hall connecting the working quarters to your dorms. he’s been after your back all day, and now he’s even sniffing the trail of scent you left behind. “you smell good” he starts, throwing his head back while dragging his hands down his face. he is getting ridiculous. now he’s sniffing you around like an animal ? “did you shampoo ?” he continues, making you halt your steps for a moment to take his dumb words in before continuing to walk. shaking your head in disbelief that you’re responding to his question, “they sent me the new ones to sample so yeah, earlier” you explain, telling him about the new shampoo they’ve formulated, experimenting with improved ingredients from the lab. “can you stop for a moment ? where are you going anyways ?” he hasten his steps behind you, pondering on how are you walking so fast. before you know it he manages to quickly grab your hand and intertwine his fingers with yours. now that you’re forced to stop, you turn and raise your chin to look at him, who’s grinning.

“i need to report back to them, kai”

“what ? like now ?”

“yes, now”

“they can wait”

moving the strand of hair out of your face, you sigh at him. looking up at him through your lashes, your face clearly unamused. “no kai, unlike you who clearly has nothing better to do they’re actually working and contributing to the ship” you squint your eyes as you say that, making him take a step back to scoff at you. if only he could channel this newfound energy or hormones on something else, he would’ve actually made a difference. like maybe fixing and updating your database thats turning obsolete from how ancient it is, or come out with a new security system. that would’ve made you drool over him, even reward with after a hard day of doing men’s job. instead, he’s been chasing you around the ship all day since yesterday, snooping up your ass, waiting as you do chores hoping to get in your pants. like you said, it’s the lack of blue

you gesture your hand around signalling that you’re done here if he doesn’t have anything else to say, too tired of him to even roll your eyes. he’s frustrated to say the least, confused with his own neediness, struggling to navigate the feelings. he could’ve just gone to any other girls on the ship, they’ll gladly let him into their dorms but he doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want them. what the both of you have is something sacred to him that he refuses to jeopardise. even so, you’re starting to give him blue balls, he’s wondering how can you be so composed, as you’ve also stopped taking the blue while he’s sweating and fidgeting. “go find something useful to do kai, leave me alone”. it’s not like you’re mad at him, but it hasn’t been long since the last time you gave in because of his pleas.

“why are you being such a bitch ? zac’s right, girls are fucking difficult” kai’s towering over you, letting go of your hands. he almost gave up when you start walking away before he continues his petty tantrum. “you act like you’re sooo important, always doing this and that, acting like you don’t want me” you’ve turned your heels away from him long ago, ignoring his silly words that are far from insults. you were about to block his voice out of your hearing before you hear him, “walk away all you want but we both know you were begging for my cock like a slut” you’re lucky the hallways empty or else anyone could’ve heard him easily. his last words flicked a switch inside your head, making you turn around to quickly stomp towards him. he can’t be serious.

he could’ve accepted and just walk away like a man but decided to act like a bitch instead, whining around that you wouldn’t let him get his dick wet. you reach over for his shirt, pulling him by fisting the fabric on his chest, your bodies almost colliding. you can feel his warm breath fanning over you as he falls quiet and his face drops. “you’re so fucked, kai” you say as you start dragging him by his shirt, walking across the hallway before taking a turn towards his dorm. he struggles to follow your steps with you pulling him forward, forcing him to bend a little. he almost trips over multiple times on the ship’s floor. as you stop in front of his dorm, you push him forward, he almost stumble over his feet. “unlock it” you order him, to which he quietly obeys, pressing his code into the lock display.

you push him inside quickly before locking the door behind you to avoid anyone noticing. after making sure it’s just the both of you, you step forward, making him step back before his heels hit the side of his bed in the small compound. he’s forced to sit as you settle between his legs, his head tilted upwards to look at you, too scared to look away. “im so tired of you running your mouth,” you begin, lifting your hand to cup his cheek, smoothing your thumb over his clear skin. he’s starting to regret the things he said to you, nervous anticipating what’s going to happen now that he’s pissed you off. “do you think you’re better than me ?” you ask him softly, waiting for his answer patiently as you can clearly see him keeping in his answer, his eyes trailing somewhere else. moving your fingers over his lips, you play with them, gently pulling at the bottom one. you smile at him.

“so you do think you’re better ?” before he could give you any response, you thrust your index and middle finger pass his lips, pushing down on his tongue. “you’re pretty, kai,” you say, as you thrust your fingers further. “but sometimes you can be such a bitch” your fingers are now slotted snug against his tongue, he struggles to keep himself from gagging as his eyes are becoming glossy, small tears pooling at the corners. he shuts his eyes for a moment before shaking his head, he tries to make out something but they’re mumbled because of your fingers. you coo at him before retracting them and cupping his cheek. he’s short of breath yet wastes no time, “m’sorry” you shake your head, giving him a look before firmly tapping his cheeks with your saliva covered fingers. traces of spit sticks onto his face as you push him down by his head, his hand grabbing at your wrist.

you quickly push your pants down with your free hand before quickly getting on top of him on the bed. he’s starting to smirk from seeing you sitting pant-less on him, thinking that you still gave in after all. he raises his hands to place them on your waist, before even starting to rub at your exposed thighs. you smile at him as you take his hands, guiding and placing them on your covered tits, earning a soft small moan from him. he’s happily kneading at the soft flesh as you reach over beside the bed, where there are drawers. you pull out one of them to fish out something before placing it over his hands, zip tying them together swiftly.

he was too caught up in the feeling, eyes closed and all to notice what you’re doing. he looks as if he’s panicking, trying to break the zip tie off but the friction’s hurting his wrists. “fuck- i said i was sorry ?” he lets out, his bent knees moving around and hitting the wall. you let out a sigh looking at him, as he returns a wide eyed look at you, hoping for you to take the zip tie off. “please baby ?” he tries again, before you move over him, your knees settling on each side of his head, your pussy hovering right above his face. “don’t baby me”.

you couldn’t be bothered to look at him as you run your hands through his tight curls, tugging slightly at the roots before settling all of your weight on his face, his mouth open to take your pussy. just as he flattens his tongue to lap up your juices he lets out a hummed moan, the vibration sending chills down your spine. you tighten your grab on his roots, making him hum, his tied hands behind you flailing around, tortured that he doesn’t get to feel you. one thing kai is if he’s not anything else is he’s a pussy eater, and he can so it for hours. he gets off from eating pussy, and does it like nobody’s business. but you’ve never sat on his face, though he’s begged you to before. you weren’t comfortable with the thought but you know this will shut him up.

he continues his laps against your pussy as his tongue licks at the sensitive nub, before gently sucking on it, making you whine loudly. you quickly snap out of the feeling to control your loudness, with the compound walls being thin as ever and people outside that might hear. kai doesn’t have to worry about his sounds as they’re all muffled by your pussy, so he’s moaning and whining against your folds each time his tastebud indulges your taste. his cock’s hard in his pants, begging to be let out and touched. so kai settles for the next best thing he could get right now, his tied hands cupping over his hard on and rubbing across the bulging length.

the friction of the fabric of his pants against his cock makes him feel good, he’s moaning as his hand rubs over his sensitive tip yet nothing compares to sinking inside your warm pussy. if you give him a chance right now he’s willing to kneel before you and beg for you to let him fuck, he’ll promise to do all the work while you just lay down and be a pillow princess. unfortunately his mouth is covered and pressed down against your pussy. not that he’s complaining, he gets to suck and lap the juices off your folds.

you’ve had enough of him having fun so you start grinding down, moving your hips back and forth, your pussy rubbing against his mouth and his nose. all you can see now is his eyes, glossy with long lashes staring back at you, his eyelid heavy from the pleasure. he’s moaning uncontrollably underneath you now that you’re grinding against his face, your clit nudging at his nose making you moan, your fingers tugging down at his roots. his hands are cupping his hard on, obvious bulge poking through his pants. his bent knees are flailing around from the pleasure, his hips bucking up into thin air, not quite enough to turn the restraint on his cock into pain. his waist hovers over the bed, as he speeds up his lapping against your folds. all while he’s tortured by the blood rushing to the tip of his cock, he’s overwhelmed by the sweet taste of your pussy and scent pushing down against his face. you let out a whine as you feel his lips sucking at your hole, slurping up the wetness leaking out with his tongue before fucking your hole with it.

he’s now fucking you with his tongue, sending you waves after waves of pleasure that’ll eventually come down sooner or later. “mnmgh, fu- so good kai” your praise fills him with more excitement to please you, as his slurping on your sex makes loud noises in the compound. “fuck, kai- you-you’re gonna be good after this ?” your question comes out staggered and whiny, the pleasure invading your words. he nods against your pussy, his nose nudging against your sensitive nub. “mmnhgh- oh my god, f- you’re gonna stop calling girls with that word ?” he nods rapidly, the repeated nudges of his nose making you twitch. the knot in your lower belly tightening as you pin his head down by his hair, before grinding harder against his face. you could feel his plump lips sucking on your clit. arching your back from the pleasure before looking down, you see his brown eyes already set on you, looking away just to watch your body move and writhe on top of him.

“oh my god- kai, fuck- gonna cum” you’re now borderline bouncing on his face, your hips twitching as you chase your high. he knows that you’re about to cum as he speeds up his tongue fucking into your hole. “gonna give you my cum” you hear him let out a muffled sound, as you’re busy chasing your orgasm. his hands are rubbing and squeezing down on his covered length, trying to calm the blood rushing that’s making him rock hard. you let out your final whine before moaning hard, your hips halting its movements against his face as your orgasm washes down, and you’re cumming on his mouth.

you begin to raise your hips to hover over his mouth as you immediately hear him moan, his tied hands tugging at the back of your shirt. “fuck!” curses flow out of his lips as soon as he gets to speak. his hips are bucking hard because of his twitching thighs. your breasts are heaving, trying to catch your breath and settle down. you turn your upper body to look behind you to notice the small beads of white seeping through his pants, and the bulge poking through it twitching around. your eyes go wide at the view of him cumming untouched in his pants before turning back to look at him who’s smiling at you, his eyelids droopy from being pussy drunk.

his smile is crooked and he’s seconds away from passing out. you cup your hands over your mouth for a moment before leaning down to gently kiss him, your fingers running slowly through his curls to massage his scalp. you reach again into the drawers to find a scissor, before turning behind to release his hands. he immediately reach up to wrap his arms around your waist, before you pull them away to slowly rub at his wrists. “mmhm” your gentle touch offers him some relief, making him hum in contentment. the traces of the zip tie leaving red marks as your fingers smooth over the skin.

you tsk at the obvious imprint of the restraint on his wrists, which are probably hurting like hell yet he’s too awestruck to complain. you’re still on top of him, sitting on his steady chest as he just lets you inspect his hands, too worn out to even do anything. “i love you” he mumbles out. you take his hands and place them together against your chest before leaning down again to kiss his lips. he gently returns the kiss before letting you kiss all up his cheeks, nose, eyes and forehead. “promise to be good, kai” his glossy eyes search into yours as his hands roam across your waist.

“maybe”

taglist: @radioloom @r4vn @themoonchildwhofell @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @love-me-pls @szapizzapanda @luckystrikerealness @fuckshitslover @khxna @juniperhasfallen

[pipermca]

Resonance

Author's note: I am not sure what to do with this story. It's a prequel to a fic that I haven't started posting yet, starring some very minor characters from that story. 😅 But my brain wanted to work on this, so I let it, and this is what came out. However I don't want to post it to AO3 yet because I need it to be a bit separate from the main fic until that one is well underway.

I'm posting this here just to have it down someplace. That way it's out of my hair. Once I start posting the longer, main story, I'll clean this up again and post it to AO3.

Enjoy. :)

Title: Resonance

Rating: PG for descriptions of violence

Tags: Bluestreak/Hound, Bluestreak & Smokescreen, Continuity soup, Post-apocalypse, Soulmate AU

Word count: 5100

Every sensor in Bluestreak's haptic net was tingling. Or that's what it felt like, anyway. And when he attempted to ignore the constant pings from his sensors, all he could feel was his fuel pump thudding away in his chest, or how loud his ventilation systems had become. So instead he put all of his focus on following Smokescreen, and stepping as quietly as he could. But the scattered gravel and broken glass crunching under their pedes sounded like fireworks, and he winced at every stray sound they made.

Bluestreak was so intent on moving as stealthily as he possibly could that he ran into Smokescreen's left sensor wing when he stopped.

"Eep!" Bluestreak squeaked, then clapped a hand over his mouth, his optics wide.

Smokescreen reached out a hand to steady Bluestreak as he reeled backwards. "Good job staying close," he said quietly. He smiled and patted Bluestreak on the shoulder. "But maybe leave just a bit more following distance next time."

"I'm sorry!" Bluestreak whispered, flattening his sensor wings against his back.

"It's all right. Just let me peek down there, and if I don't see anything I'll let you know." Smokescreen pulled out his weapon and slipped into the darkened building they'd been heading towards.

Bluestreak crouched down beside the doorway. He pulled out his own weapon and held it ready, his thumb nervously caressing the trigger. He looked up the street, then down the street, then up above him, over and over. Left. Right. Up. Left. Right. Up.

He hated this. He hated everything about this. They had been forced to venture further and further from their shelter to look for fuel and other supplies, creeping into places where they knew the Quintessons had been seen. There hadn't been any sightings of prosecutors in a few weeks, but with communications down and the city in ruins, they had no way of knowing whether the aliens were just hiding around the next corner. They'd also run into bots like themselves, people just trying to scrape by with what they could find. Most of them had been friendly, and shared information and fuel with them. But others had not been friendly at all.

He felt lost. He felt like they were on their own. Even Primus didn't seem to give a scrap about what happened to them.

As soon as Bluestreak had that thought, he cringed internally and offered up a silent prayer of apology. He knew that there were some things even Primus couldn't fix.

Bluestreak was completing his fourteenth visual sweep of the ruined street when Smokescreen reappeared in the doorway. "It's clear. C'mon," he said, and Bluestreak followed him inside.

Like most of the other stores they'd searched today, this one looked like it had already been looted of anything useful. But Bluestreak started opening cabinets and boxes anyway, hunting for anything they could take. "I don't think we're going to find anything here, Smokey," he said. "This is a waste of time." He knew he sounded petulant. He didn’t care anymore.

"Maybe there's something in the back," Smokescreen said. With a sigh, Bluestreak followed him through the doorway into the rear of the store.

As expected, there wasn't much in the back of the store, either. Bluestreak found a packet of rust crisps in the drawer of a desk, and Smokescreen found five small datapads. He pulled the battery cells from them and slipped those into his compartments. Then he jerked his head towards the back door. "Let's head back up the alley and see if there's any places we missed on this stretch."

He had just come through the door to the alley when Bluestreak saw it: a long black tentacle dangling from the sky above them. Reflexively, he swung his gun up and fired, severing the tentacle so that it fell onto the ground in front of them.

Dropping into a crouch, Bluestreak skittered back into the safety of the doorway, waving his gun back and forth above him, looking for the rest of the prosecutor. Or worse, rest of its argument. But all he could see above him were the bombed-out and crumbling towers that sat above the retail space.

"Where'd it go? Where'd it go?" Bluestreak hissed.

Something touched his shoulder. Bluestreak yelped and spun around. His finger twitched on the trigger, and fired before his processor even registered what he was shooting at...

Smokescreen.

Smokescreen's hand closed firmly around Bluestreak's wrist. "Maybe we're done for today," Smokescreen said quietly, and glanced at the hole in the wall right beside his head.

"Oh. Oh!" Bluestreak dropped his weapon, wincing again as it clattered to the ground. "Oh Primus Smokey, I'm so sorry!"

Smokescreen picked up Bluestreak's gun and tucked it into his compartments. "I'm fine," he said. He gave Bluestreak a smile, but this time it looked forced. "But we should go before someone – or something – comes to see what that noise was."

"The prosecutor!" Bluestreak whirled around again to look at the tentacle he'd just severed from the prosecutor.

Except there was no tentacle. Instead, a length of wires, wrapped with black insulation, lay on the alley floor. One end was torn and bent, obviously ripped from its connector, while the other end was smoking and melted from Bluestreak's blaster shot.

"I thought..." Bluestreak walked a step, then two, into the alley to nudge the cabling with the tip of his pede. "I thought it was..."

"I know. And I understand," Smokescreen said. He put his hand on Bluestreak's shoulder again, this time telegraphing his movements carefully. "It's starting to get late. Let's get back home."

***

Bluestreak sat with his back to a corner with his head buried in his arms. He hoped that if he made himself small enough, no one would notice him there. Inside his chest, it felt like his spark was singing a mournful dirge.

Everything was broken: his job, his life, his planet. Nothing was right. And nothing he did was making anything better.

Maybe he could just put himself into stasis. Someone could wake him up when the world had fixed itself again. But for now, he just wanted to be left alone.

At the sound of a pede scraping the ground purposefully, Bluestreak sighed. He should have known.

"Skyfall found three whole cases of Nukecool. I grabbed a bottle for us to share," said Smokescreen's voice.

"I don't want it."

A pause. "Are you sure? It's the good kind, with the red label. You always told me how much you really liked this flavour."

"You can have it."

Another pause. "Are you all right?"

Bluestreak's reply was sharper than he meant it to be, but who cared? Everything was broken. Maybe he could break his last remaining friendship, too. "No."

Smokescreen slid down the wall to sit next to Bluestreak, and set a bottle down beside him. Bluestreak didn't have to look up to know that Smokescreen was looking at him with that intent expression he always had when he was listening fully and attentively. "Did you want to talk about it?"

"You can't psychoanalyze me out of feeling like... this," Bluestreak said.

"No," said Smokescreen agreeably. "But I can still listen."

"What's the point of talking about how absolutely fracked we are?" Bluestreak lifted his head and looked up at the ceiling of the half-crumbled transport tunnel they were taking shelter in. He gestured with both of his hands, taking in the shadowy walls, the small piles of gathered supplies, and the groups of bots huddled here and there among the scavenged crates. "You've lived through the same things I have. The Quintessons arriving. The attack on the Senate. Praxus losing comms with the rest of the planet, then the invasion coming here, and-" Bluestreak's voice cut off in a warble of feedback, so he shook his head and looked at Smokescreen. He didn't care if his friend saw the streaks of coolant that had been running down his cheeks.

"I definitely remember," Smokescreen said quietly.

"Yeah." Bluestreak blinked several times, trying to clear the image of the Quintesson prosecutors' tentacles smashing through doors and windows of the shops on his street, and dragging out the people they found inside. Bluestreak could still hear the screams of those they took. He remembered watching Treadlight, the paint specialist across the street, get pulled into a prosecutor, shrieking in terror. He remembered scuttling from building to building, trying to avoid the squads of allicons roaming the city. He could still smell the acrid burnt metal of corpses who had been shot in the back as they ran. "And now... I almost killed the only friend of mine I know who's still alive."

"You didn't. I'm still here."

"But I could have! I almost did!" Bluestreak glared at Smokescreen. "So no. I am not 'all right.'"

Smokescreen was silent. When Bluestreak glanced away again, Smokescreen put his arm around Bluestreak's shoulders. "I am sorry. I didn't mean it like that. How about... Are you going to be all right for the moment? Right this second?"

Bluestreak grunted, realizing what Smokescreen was angling for. "Yeah. I guess. I'm not going to start screaming for the Quintessons to come finish us off, like Padlock did." He directed his glare at the ground in front of his pedetips, but leaned into Smokescreen's embrace. "I just feel useless like this, jumping at everything."

"You're not useless," Smokescreen said. "You're really observant. You're good at spotting things that others have missed. You're an excellent shot." When Bluestreak just grunted again, Smokescreen patted his shoulder. "And you're not the only one who's struggling." With his other hand, Smokescreen gestured at the other bots in the tunnel with them. "Everyone here is going through something. No one's been spared. So, you aren't alone in feeling like this."

Bluestreak looked around. Scattor was sitting with a group, but rocked back and forth muttering to himself. Evac stood by the tunnel entrance on guard duty, but flicked his rotors at every little sound. Windrazor sat alone like he always did, staring off into space just like he had ever since his spark resonant was killed. Every single bot in the shelter looked haunted in some way or another.

"I know," Bluestreak said with a sigh. "Thank you for that little reality check."

"Here," Smokescreen said, and handed Bluestreak the red bottle. "This might help, too."

Bluestreak accepted the bottle, and made a small sound of surprise. "It's cold!"

Smokescreen grinned. "Yeah. Glyph broke out some of the chill packs for this. I think it was worth it."

With a happy sound, Bluestreak took a big swig from the bottle. He savoured the familiar flavour, rolling it around in his intake. He sighed happily, then handed the bottle back to Smokescreen. "And what about you? How are you holding up?" When Smokescreen did not immediately reply, Bluestreak added, "You're always so... steady. And I really appreciate that. But you're struggling too, right?" Bluestreak waited while Smokescreen took a drink from the bottle. "But if you need to unload on me, you can."

Smokescreen tipped his head back and rested it on the wall behind him. "All I can think about is how nothing is ever going to be the same," he said. He stared up at the ceiling, expressionless. "Even if the Quints left tomorrow, so much is destroyed now. Buildings. The city. People. And who knows how bad things are outside of Praxus." He closed his optics. "It seems so unreal to me that just a few months ago, everything seemed normal. We knew that the Quints had arrived and there were some negotiations happening in Iacon, but... That was so far away. It was just news and politics. Who cared?" He opened his optics again and looked down at Bluestreak. "That last night, I dragged you out to that horrible movie-"

Bluestreak laughed at the memory. "That was really bad."

"I am sorry. Barricade suggested it. He said that his partner Prowl had really liked it. I should have known better than to trust his judgement about anything art related," Smokescreen said with a grin, then sobered again. "I wonder where they are. I hope they're both all right." He sighed, then continued. "After the movie, we went to The Rusty Strut for drinks, and I remember we got out of there way too late..."

"I was late opening my shop the next day," Bluestreak said.

"Like I said, way too late. And that morning there was news about the attacks in Iacon. Then something about the Senatorial Guard getting decimated. That afternoon, planetary-wide comms went down. And then that evening, just a few hours later..." He shook his head. "Like I said, I can't believe it's only been a few months."

Bluestreak shuddered, and Smokescreen fell silent.

After a few minutes, Smokescreen patted Bluestreak's shoulder again. "Did you want to sing a hymn together?" When Bluestreak sat up and stared at him in surprise, Smokescreen shrugged. "I hear you humming them sometimes, especially when you're feeling really stressed."

"A hymn?" Bluestreak narrowed his optics. "You don't have a religious circuit in your entire frame," he said.

"No. But you do. And if it'll help you feel better, I'm willing to give it a go. Who knows, maybe it'll help me relax, too," Smokescreen said. Then he smiled. "But be forewarned, I am a horrible singer."

With a quiet laugh, Bluestreak said, "That's all right. Primus doesn't care how good of a singer you are. He just cares what's in your spark." He thought for a moment, then said, "Do you know the words to Gather the Sparks? That's the one I think I hum the most."

"Nope," Smokescreen said. "But if you sing it through once, I'll join in the second time around."

***

Bluestreak did not know whether it was the bottle of his favourite drink, or singing a calming hymn, or talking with Smokescreen the previous night that had done the trick, but he definitely felt better in the morning.

Things still felt pretty dire, of course. The shared rations were still slim. Everyone still looked like they were on edge, except for Windrazor, who was still in shock after the loss of his spark resonant. At least Skyfall seemed to be able to get him to take some fuel once in a while.

But this morning, Bluestreak's spark felt lighter. The future didn't seem so dark, somehow. Even the colours of the early morning sky seemed more vivid.

The whole world felt more hopeful.

Smokescreen noticed Bluestreak's new attitude, of course. He had always been tuned into his friends' emotions like that. When Bluestreak didn't have a good explanation for why he was feeling better, Smokescreen shrugged. "I'm just glad to see you smiling again, a real smile this time," Smokescreen said, slapping his friend on the back. "I missed that."

Bluestreak ducked his head, but felt his smile broaden. "Me too."

They were just discussing where they should start their scavenging run for the day when Stakeout tore into the shelter, his tires sending up bits of glass and gravel as he braked.

"What's wrong?" Evac asked, his rotors flaring outwards. He peered down the tunnel. "Are you being chased? Is it Quintessons?"

"No!" Stakeout said, transforming. He looked... Well, he looked elated, an expression that Bluestreak hadn't seen the dour Enforcer wearing before this. "It's the army! They're here! They're setting up a triage center with fuel and doctors and shuttles and everything else in Lucent Plaza." He laughed. "I think we can finally get out of here!"

As excited voices rose around them, Smokescreen spoke over the noise. "Wait... What army? Last we heard the Senatorial Guard got wiped out, and we all saw what happened to the Civil Defense here. Who is actually down in the plaza?"

Stakeout shook his head. "I don't know. The livery on the shuttles is all different. Some of them have Senatorial Guard emblems, some have Vosian insignia, and I saw at least one with a mining company logo. But I saw the people myself, and they're Cybertronians, not Quints."

Smokescreen pulled Bluestreak aside while Evac and the others started making plans to get everyone to the plaza. "Maybe I've just been too stressed for too long, but..." He sighed, a frown twisting the corners of his mouth downwards.

Bluestreak felt the same excitement in his spark that the others in their hideout were expressing, but Smokescreen's frown tempered his reply. "What is it? Do you think that the Quintessons might be using Cybertronians to lure people in just to capture them?" Bluestreak asked.

"Something like that," Smokescreen said with a small smile. "Am I being too paranoid?"

"Maybe a little. Usually being paranoid my job," Bluestreak said, returning Smokescreen's smile. Bluestreak flicked his wings. "But to be safe, let's not go rushing down there. Let's go scope it out first, and then we can decide what to do."

The drive to the plaza was mostly clear, although they needed to detour around two destroyed bridges. They approached from the east, circling to the top of the Torus Bridge that overlooked the plaza.

Even though Bluestreak had felt more and more happy as they'd gotten closer to the plaza, he paused at the top of the bridge and scanned the horizon carefully. Even bombed out like they were, the tall towers of Praxus could still be hiding any number of the smaller ships that the Quintessons used. But the two larger ships, the ones that had hung in the air like coiled razorsnakes over the city for months, were nowhere to be seen.

Bluestreak's elation ratcheted upwards once more.

In the large plaza below them, a dozen shuttles were parked, with bots streaming into the plaza from all directions. It looked like organized chaos, with some bots directing weary Praxian residents where to go, while others helped bots form neat queues in front of various tables. Obviously injured bots were being escorted to one of the ships, while more bots circulated handing out what looked like energon cubes.

All Bluestreak could feel now was an insistent urge to be down there, in the plaza. It felt like an almost visceral pull on his spark.

Smokescreen's sensor wings tipped upwards. "Is it me, or do a lot of the bots down there have the Prime's insignia on their shoulders?"

Bluestreak squinted, then gasped when he confirmed what Smokescreen had seen. "They are! It's the Wing of the Prime! And can see a few Hand members, as well."

"I thought the Hand of the Prime was just... I dunno, protection from paparazzi," Smokescreen said. "And the Wing is just clerics and curates. The Prime is just a religious leader. He doesn't have an army."

"Well, yeah. But maybe they've been, I dunno, training for something like this." Bluestreak gestured at the motley array of vehicles in the plaza. "And they obviously have some help, right?" His wings quivered behind him as he peered at Smokescreen. "Do you believe now that they aren't really Quintessons trying to trick us into getting ourselves captured?"

"Yeah. I believe it now." Smokescreen backed away from the edge of the bridge. "And I can practically feel you vibrating with excitement. Let's get you down there before you blow a relay," he added with a laugh.

The pull on Bluestreak's spark got even more insistent when they entered the plaza. A red-plated truck waved them down at the perimeter path. "Do you need medical care, or fuel?" he asked. His shoulders bore the insignia of the Prime's Hand.

"No. We're fine, thankfully," Smokescreen said. "Honestly we're just looking to get out of here." He glanced skyward. "Are the Quints really gone?"

The red bot gave a half shrug. "They peeled out of here about a week and a half ago. No idea why. We waited to make sure they were really gone before moving in." He gestured at the ships. "As soon as we were sure, the Prime gave us orders to get as many people to safety as we can. If there are more here than we can carry, we'll call for more ships. But we will get everyone who wants to leave out."

"Where to?" Smokescreen asked.

"We've got a couple of bases set up, places where we can regroup and figure out how to fight back." The red-plated guard pulled himself to his full height. "We're gonna take Cybertron back from those squidbrains, one way or another."

Bluestreak listened to the exchange impatiently, scanning the crowd behind the Prime's guard. He didn't want to leave, not yet. What he wanted to do was drive through the crowd. He wanted to see all the people here.

...Which was weird. Bluestreak normally hated crowds. As Smokescreen thanked the guard, Bluestreak shook his head to clear that thought. Seeing everyone here was more important than his dislike of crowds.

The moment Smokescreen turned away from the guard, Bluestreak grabbed his hand and pulled him forward, into the crowd.

"Whoa, Blue, where are we going?" Smokescreen asked. "The bot back there said that the signups for an evacuation flight are over that way."

"I want to go this way," Bluestreak said, his optics scanning bots they passed. He wasn't sure what - or who - he was looking for. All he knew was that he'd know them when he saw them.

Smokescreen laughed. "You're acting like you found your spark resonant or something."

Bluestreak barely even heard Smokescreen as he wove around groups of bots, tables of supplies, and ramps of shuttles. He knew that this was the direction he needed to go in to find...

...? What was he looking for?

Bluestreak slowed as they circled around the landing gear of a squat, utilitarian transport. As they came out the other side, his optics landed on a boxy green truck. The truck was helping a blue Vosian load boxes into the bed of a hauler.

When he stopped and looked up, the truck's gaze met Bluestreak's immediately.

He had the bluest optics Bluestreak had ever seen. And when he smiled, Bluestreak's processor could only catalogue the way it made the truck's optics crinkle up at the corners, and how kind it made him look, and how much Bluestreak wanted to have that smile directed at him forever and ever.

Bluestreak was suddenly standing in front of the green bot. He didn't remember walking over to him.

Smokescreen was talking to someone behind him. "I'm sorry, I know we're probably not supposed to be back here, but my friend-"

"I'm sure we can help you out," said another voice. "And I think I know what's going on." Bluestreak assumed it was the Vosian talking. But that wasn't important now.

"I know you, I think," the green bot said. His voice thrilled Bluestreak's audials, as though he'd always wanted to hear this voice in particular. The green bot held out his hand, and Bluestreak reflexively reached out his own. "I'm-"

Their hands touched.

As soon as their fingers made contact, something surged inside Bluestreak's spark. The excited twirl that his spark had been doing all morning suddenly swirled into a dance, weaving a complex design with another, matched spark. From that dance rose a song, a joyful anthem of celebration. And for each note that Bluestreak's spark sang, the harmony was sung by its mate.

"Oh," said the green bot softly. His smile grew, as did the brightness of his optics.

That single word sent Bluestreak's spark into another burst of radiant joy.

Smokescreen was saying something, but Bluestreak wasn't listening. He wanted the green mech to speak again.

"I'm Bluestreak," he said.

"Hound," said the green bot, his optics not leaving Bluestreak's. "I'm Hound."

"I'm so happy I found you," Bluestreak said, but those words didn't feel adequate to describe how he was actually feeling: the rapturous elation of finally finding what he didn't know he was missing his whole life.

"Same. Yeah, I feel the same," Hound said. "All morning I've been... I mean, I felt something that..." Bluestreak could feel him – his name was Hound! – fumbling for words, and he felt a surge of sympathy for him.

"Did you seriously just find out you have a resonant?" Smokescreen said. With an effort, Bluestreak peeled his gaze away from Hound to look at his friend. Smokescreen was smiling and shaking his head. "Only you would discover your sparkmate in the middle of a warzone."

The blue Vosian touched Smokescreen's shoulder. "Let's give them a little while to get acquainted," he said, and he winked at Hound.

"Thanks, Thundercracker," Hound said, not looking away from Bluestreak for a moment.

Bluestreak looked back at Hound, and was lost in his optics once more.

***

"You mentioned you had a shop here. What did you sell?"

"I'm a glass smith, and I sold the art I made, along with some other stuff."

"Art? Like what?"

"Oh, mostly glass pieces for decoration. You know, stuff like sparklers and window spinners, but I also did a lot of custom works for bots to have installed. Have you see those taillights some people have, with the internal prisims? I made those first, before they got really popular."

"Those were yours? That's amazing! They look so neat!"

"Thanks! I was pretty proud of them," Bluestreak said, and shifted closer to Hound. He was finally able to look away from his spark mate (wow, what a weird thing to think, that he had an actual spark resonant) at the bustle of bots working around them. After recovering from the initial shock of discovering each other, both Bluestreak and Hound wanted to help unload supplies or organize the medical queues – something to help the effort. But Smokescreen and Thundercracker (the Vosian who had been working with Hound) told them to sit and take a little time to get to know each other better, and Smokescreen offered to take Hound's place for a while. Neither Bluestreak nor Hound argued too loudly about that, since getting to work meant not touching each other.

Hound turned and looked at Bluestreak again. Every time he did that, he looked as though he was surprised to see him sitting there. "So, did you ever think you might have a resonant?" Hound asked.

"Sure, I thought about it," Bluestreak said. "Who hasn't? I've seen the same romances as everyone else. It's appealing, thinking you might have someone out there who's your perfect match." He rubbed his hand up Hound's arm, feeling the slight texture in his matte finish. They hadn't stopped touching each other ever since their first meeting; there was something about keeping that contact that made Bluestreak's spark sing even louder. He leaned into Hound's side as he kicked his pedes back and forth over the edge of the crate they were sitting on. "But resonants are so rare and so... I dunno, almost mythical, something that happened to other people, that it was more of a fun fantasy than thinking I might actually have one. Of course, I did eventually make a trip down to Greater Monoplex, just to see if I could feel anything. But aside from the excitement of being on a trip to a place I'd never been, I didn't feel anything odd. Maybe we just didn't get close enough or something."

Hound listened patiently as Bluestreak rambled on, waiting until Bluestreak finished before replying. "When did you go to Monoplex?"

"Oh... It must have been about thirty or forty quartexes ago." Bluestreak smiled. "I needed to save up for the trip."

"I was called to serve Primus about seventy quartexes ago. That was in Sentinel Prime's service, of course," Hound said. Hound's fingers curled around and under and through Bluestreak's as he talked, tangling and untangling their fingers over and over, just like he'd been doing since they first sat down. Hound smiled and shrugged. "I wanted to come to Praxus, eventually, just to see, but... Other things seemed to be more important. And like you said, resonants are so rare. I never once thought that I might actually have one."

"We were both so wrong," Bluestreak said. He flicked his sensor wings upwards as he added, "And hey, if you're in the Wing, just think! Since you've got a resonant, you might be the next Prime, and I could be your Protector!"  But as soon as the words left Bluestreak's vocalizer, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Even if he couldn't have sensed the horror and distress and do not want he was feeling from Hound's spark, the expression on Hound's face would have made him back up immediately. "Oh, Hound, it's just a joke. I'm joking! I'm sorry," he said, squeezing Hound's arm tighter. "I wouldn't know the first thing about being a Protector."

Hound nodded and relaxed, both in body and spark. "I can feel that now," Hound said. He smiled. "This is going to take some getting used to, especially as we get to know each other." He started twining his fingers around Bluestreak's again: over, under, through. "But I have no doubts about your ability to be a Protector. It's the thought of losing the current Prime that made me..." He shuddered in Bluestreak's embrace.

"Have you met him?" Bluestreak asked quietly. He remembered seeing the ceremonies and celebrations when the new Prime was selected by the Matrix. When Hound nodded, Bluestreak asked, "What's he like?"

"He is kind, and intelligent, and thoughtful," Hound said. "When you talk to him, you can tell that he really cares about every single bot on this planet, whether they believe he is the voice of Primus or not." Hound looked around the plaza and at all of the bots there: those of the Prime's Hand and Wing, and the survivors they had come to help. "This was all his doing. He wanted to make sure we rescued as many bots as possible from places where the Quintessons have been. Without his leadership, pulling together disparate forces from all over the planet, none of this would have happened."

"I hope I get to meet him some day," Bluestreak said.

Hound smiled at him, sending another swirl of joy through Bluestreak's spark. "Well, I'll need to report back to the Master of Songs when we return to Tyger Pax," Hound said. "After that, if you stick with me, I can definitely introduce you to Megatronus Prime."

Bluestreak leaned his head on Hound's shoulder, watching the bustling around them. "I'd like that," he said. "And I have every intention of staying by your side for as long as I live, now that I finally met you."

"Nothing would make me happier," Hound said softly.

THE END

Look for this fic's sequel in The Prime and His Protector, coming to AO3 sometime soon!

[chainsofaether]

More detailed Body horror

TW // Body horror

I have have no idea if this is good. I have so little experience with body horror and I'm not really sure about my writing. But the trigger warning is there for a reason. This is much, much more detailed then what I did earlier. Honestly it could be even more so but I'm only just getting in to writing again.

Everything will be below the cut for obvious reasons. Plus it's 2800ish words so it's modestly long. I want to say I'm proud of it? Maybe? Ask me in the morning.

I don't know if this gets it out of my system though. It was incredible easy to write. I'm not really sure what that says about me. Go look at my previous post if you want something nicer. This is not that.

This is in no way cannon. This is just me thinking through what Nyxathe loosing herself to her aether looks like. It's not even that easy to trigger so I doubt it will really come up to this degree in rp. But it's probably good to have a general idea.

Also @thefreelanceangel. You seemed to want to see something like this. So tagging you so you can make that decision.

Anyway I hope anyone that reads it likes it. Let me know what you think. If you don't read it or can't finish it I don't blame you.

It was dark. That was the first thing Nyxathe noticed. The second, the hard ground beneath her. She tried to push herself to her feet then slipped falling hard ground, blasting the breath from her lungs. She laid there a moment feeling the pain radiate through the hands that caught her. Slowly the pain subsided and she reached out to the aether around her.

Then she noticed how thick it was. A hint of panic. She reached out again but this time for the ward she was constantly surrounded by. Gone.

Her breathing picked up. This time she forced herself to her feet ignoring whatever injuries she might have had. Only fully standing did she realize her hair had grown to reach the ground and longer still. She forced down the panic trying to ground her emotions to keep a clear head.

Then her vision bloomed as she shifted from that one born of light to the vision born of aether. The sight of the cave told her that she was somewhere, likely, underground or in a cave at least. The Aether here was ridiculously thick, dangerously so even. Likely around the corruption wrought by the calamity. But that wasn’t the immediate concern, no what else she say worried her far more greatly. Something hinted at by her hair.

She was glowing in brilliant red with streaks of black roiling about. It was beautiful to behold, and equally terrifying. Instinctively she reached for the crystal that was always around her neck. Gone too.

All her protections had been stripped away.

Clearly someone had done this to her but her memory failed her even if the list of people could only be so big. Few knew the danger this particular situation would pose to her. It took all her will to resist the panic brought on by the danger of the situation, and worse she could feel her will unraveling in the face of her anger. She need to keep a stable mind.

Could she get out of the cave? That would buy her more then enough time to deal with the problems. But navigating in the blur that was the aether around her would be difficult and there was no actual light to see by. Either way she might never find the way out in time. So the only option was to try and fix the problem here and now. Rebuild the ward. Stabilize her own aether.

In a cave. With no tools. Not even her crystal to guide her. She couldn’t help but laugh at he madness of the idea. How utterly hopeless that felt. She laughed, chocked back a sob and then reached for the aether around her.

Such a familiar act at first. Such pure confidence in the face of the situation. Then it slipped between her fingers, across her mind like liquid through sieve.

That was enough to break her. The hopelessness wrapped around her mind and crumpled to the floor with a gasp of panic. If she couldn’t even reach the sate of mind to work the aether she was doomed, or worse. There really seemed no path. Unfortunately she could already feel the changes to her body.

She wasn’t just radiating aether, she was radiating heat. Her body was burning up, well beyond a fever at this point. She brushed her hand across her face to just wipe away the sweat that had built up there in desperate attempt to cool her. One doomed to fail. But in the motion she noticed her nails. They were longer, sharper too. If she was careless she could probably cut herself.

She wasn’t really sure how much time passed. She’d given up looking at the aether, instead just sitting in the dark thinking. She couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been meant to sleep longer, this left her some power to escape. Or maybe they knew she had no real hope of getting out. That slowly she’d lose herself. She was still thinking clearly though so why couldn’t she reach the aether? Poison? Could it?

It that was true then could she do something? Maybe turn her new nature in to a cure? It would be dangerous, suicidal even. But if she could burn out this possible poison she might be able to drag herself back at the last moment. She glanced around in the dark seeing nothing. That alone made her choice for her.

In all the panic and worry she only now realize she was naked. Not that it mattered in this situation. Even if some was here they wouldn’t see even the barest hint of pale flesh.

She pressed her hand to her chest and dragged up every trick she’d learned as an apprentice then willed the aether in her to change. To become more extreme. To turn to a bonfire that would push back even Ifrit for a moment.

It was agony and she screamed. Screamed until her throat was raw and bloody then screamed more as the heat burnt through her. Part of her was sure that she could smell burning flesh. Gods she was cooking herself. But the magic was getting easier. A good sign it had been some foul poison.

Then her eye exploded. The useless one, the cloudy red. She screamed again, if she’d ever stopped, at that sudden fresh agony. The wet dribbling down her check. A macabre tear. The heat she could feel in the empty socket.

It didn’t matter though because finally she could reach the aether again and calling up fire to light this cave SO SHE COULD HUNT THE BASTARD THAT DID THIS TO HER. The thought rages a moment. Then the fire bloomed and pulled her thoughts straight again. She could see. It was so easy to reach for fire after what she’d done to herself, but she should have just reached for light regardless of how far it seemed.

Nyxathe had forgotten something.

The fire bloomed. Then expanded in to a fireball in the next moment. The blast tossed Nyxathe like a rag doll across the cave. Worse the air in the cave was consumed. The blast had knocked the air from her lung and when she tried to breath found nothing there to refill them. Her vision blurred, she’d hit her head and worse she was suffocating. Her vision swam, then went black as she dropped to the floor.

Slowly air filtered back in to the room but Nyxathe was too far gone to really notice. It kept her alive at least. Though perhaps she’d have preferred to suffocate considering the risk she’d taken. Time was precious at this point and she was wasting it unconscious on the floor. Changing her aether further had made her able to use magic, but it had also pushed her close to the edge. An edge she likely couldn’t come back from once she went over.

Tick tock.

The thing that woke her was bones breaking. A grisly snap of her arm. Then a leg. Then both her other leg and arm. Loud in the otherwise silent cave. It was hard to figure if the pain or the sound woke her not that it matted. By the time she managed to even look her arms were already twisted beyond recognition. Could she fix this? This was so far beyond what she’d ever done to herself or even in experiment.

Wait. Why could she see? There was still no light but oddly she could easily see. But not just from one eye but both. She couldn’t help but reach for her face to feel that supposedly empty socket with her mangled claw like hands.

Fire! She pulled her hand back immediately, so quickly she scratched her face with her new claws. Instead of blood liquid fire spilled forth Though more oddly yet the wound simply healed over in a moment. Leaving only the smell of cooking flesh as notice it happened at all.

She was becoming a monster, though her mind was still hers. She was going to kill the bastard that had done this to her. She would find them and rip their guts out with her bare hands. Her mind was hers.

Nxyathe didn’t notice how much the rage had consumed her mind. She spent more time fantasizing about pulling a person apart piece by piece then she did her escape, her safety. The other thing she didn’t recognize was the hunger. Gods she felt so hungry.

Eventually her limbs seemed stable enough to stand and so she did. She knew she was taller though her hands hung lower too. Like she’d been stretched out. In a more lucid moment she wondered what else had happened that she couldn't see.

Slowly she limped toward what she could see as an exit, stumbling along with her ungainly limbs. All the while she could feel something in her changing yet again. Her chest hurt, or something inside. Her jaw too. Unconsciously she licked her lips without notice that her tongue had gained more then a bit of length.

Traveling in the dim light she could see now was hard but easier then the total dark. Plus she could feel the air moving. Leading her to fresher air and hopefully an exit.

Had it been an hour or twenty minutes? Five? She honestly couldn't tell. Her mind was a mess spiraling all about. Jumping between hunger and violence then back to lucid thought. The only thing that finally broke that spiral was the sound of water, and then a moment later a brighter light.

She rushed toward the sound, the light, and didn’t even stop when she stumbled in to the water. A small pool but gods it felt so good. Cool against her burning skin and recently warped limbs. Slowly the water stilled and for the first time she could see her reflection.

It was still her face. Mostly. Her hair was comically long now and a complete mess from dragging it through the cave. More a concern was her eye. Gone and replaced but nothing but an orb of fire, one that she could apparently see from.

Had that piece of her become nothing but aether? A bit of her analytical mind clung to the calm though and pulled her back to the reality of the situation. The rage stepped back a moment the cool water letting her think for the first in a while. Horror was the only reasonable response. At how she’d been thinking. At what she was changing in to. That blast had robbed her of precious time and now she might well be beyond help. If she could get out of the cave and stop herself…

She laughed. Her throat still hurt. How big was this place? Where was this place? Even if she got out she might be in middle of the forest. This could be leagues from her lab. She wouldn’t be getting to her lab more then likely. Who ever had done this to her had known about her. Deeply. It hurt to think that someone she trusted might have betrayed her in such a lethal way but that was the only explanation.

A sigh was her only response to the thought. She looked down at the water splashing at her reflection as she notice the line down her jaw. Another bad sign, but no point dwelling on it. She couldn’t stay here clearly. But the water was helping. Question is how to carry some of it? She was naked. Did she really have to risk further journey with her mind degrading as rapidly as it had been. She shifted in the water and felt her hair drag behind her.

Of course. Her hair. If she completely soaked the mess that she was dragging along she might be able to stay cooler longer. It was the best she had in any case so she dunked her head under the surface and ruffled her hair to get as much water in it with out cutting herself with her new claws.

A few minutes later she was soaked and wrapped in hair. Offering some kind of warped modesty. Normally she’d probably be shivering but instead she just felt the heat radiating off her body. Still she felt cool. That pain in her jaw had gotten worse as if to counter the good news. It didn’t matter though. She had to keep moving if she got out of the cave she could at least stop the changes. Maybe.

So she started again. Walking was getting easier, not a nice thought, but a convenience in spite of the horror. In fact she was moving much faster. Her stride was much bigger and she felt surprisingly good in contrast to how much pain she’d felt earlier. Better to not consider that.

Another few minutes, or was it an hour, passed. She had no way of knowing where she was going or if it was right. The only clue was that these caves has started to look worked. More worked anyway. Ages ago. So Gelmorra then. Shit.

That was beyond bad. Even if she could get out would the Elementals see her as some abomination and immediately try and kill her? Or if they lacked the strength then send the Wailers after her? Another problem for future her. Present her was concerned about the pain in her sides, something was shifting under her skin. She could feel it. See it even. Not to mention she could feel her hair drying out and her body getting even warmer. With the warmth came the madness.

Of course it hard to notice madness. Nyxathe was particularly vigilant but the changes to her body were distracting in a way that would have been impossible for her to describe.

Then almost suddenly maddening pain at her sides. She dropped to her knees wanting to scream but finding no breath in her lungs to scream with. Just open mouth raised to the rock above as her body was wracked with spasm after spasm. Something in her twisted then pushed against the skin from the inside. Finally she found a breath and howled her agony to echo down the tunnels. Her fingers grasped at the stone to just squeeze at anything. Those claw cut in to the stone with disturbing ease. Not that she noticed.

A moment later bone ripped from her sides splattering viscera and liquid fire on the stone around around her. A rib? Outside… Flesh wrapped around it with impossible speed to form a new limb on either side. First muscles wrapped in fire spilling that cooked flesh smell in the air. Was her mouth watering? Then skin quickly grew over that, pale with dark lines where veins might be.

A second pair of arms? That was her first thought. Though they looked nothing like normal arms. Longer then they should be and able to bend more then her original. Claws again on the end where hands should be. What for? Grabbing. Holding. As if there was any logic to this. She shook her head and another though crossed her mind.

Gods she was hungry.

How long had it been? She almost certainly had been down here for a better part of a day considering how far the changes had gone. That thought holding in her mind she pushed back to her feet. There was still pain wracking her body but the idea of getting out. Getting out to kill them all. Getting out to safety.

She’d eat them to to quell this incessant pain in her stomach. Her tongue loped out of mouth to lip her lips going fair enough to brush against her chin. She was drooling. How embarrassing. She used one of her original claws to wipe the spit away.

She didn’t even notice the line on her chin had gotten deeper. Sign of another change coming.

None of that mattered though. She smelt fresh air, replacing the smell of burning flesh, not so far away. She hear the sounds of life. That pulled her along. The idea of freedom. Of Food.

A few minutes later she was pulling herself up a collapsed incline. Careful. Careful. She didn’t want to draw attention. Up and out of the cave in to the light. Dim light, for luck it was starlight barely making it through the trees. Still she could see easily, compared to the cave it might well be full sun.

She pulled herself to her full height, closer to Ten fulms then nine much less her original six. Still she felt it more comfortable to lean forward and lope along using her upper arms to help push along. Closer to eight then. All stretched and wrapped in to comedic horror of what she was.

Would she even notice?

Head raised to the air she sniffed the night air. A campfire. People. Hunters? Bandits. It didn’t matter much. She turned that direction and started.

She was so hungry.

She was drooling again. How embarrassing.

I think I'm way to tired to do any explaining after writing all this. I ended her a bit before the rest of the transformation. The part I have thought out anyway. Mostly because it would have been another two pages probably since the only scene I had in my head was her jaw splitting open as she descended on some hapless hunter to take a chunk out of them.

She wouldn't really be interested in the flesh as a note. Her body is just screaming for more aether. But she's not a voidsent, or like, and she's not really of state of mind to get use magic to get it. So she has to eat like everyone else. She just needs a lot and people are the best source. Or animals if she stumbles on them. Though I imagine animal probably get the out of there the moment they sense her.

Terrifying thought that she feeds enough to stabilize her mind enough to use magic again. I'll have to give that some thought.

Anyway if anyone that gets this far wants a deep dive in to my thoughts about all this I guess tell me in the comments and I write up something after I've rested.

[stiacata]

So uhm my partner told me I needed to post my ideas on Omegaverse to here XD

-Puts on dunce hat and proceeds to sit in the corner digging my own grave-

So my "angelically pure" ass was sitting down bored out of their mind and decided to go read some fanfiction on Ao3 for some damn reason. All the top-quality, massive word count, God tier shit had in the tags the lonely words "A/B/O dynamics"... now I'm not pure to internet slang, I knew immediately it was omegaverse, but this dumb ass still read it anyway... and I liked it!

But I after so, I realized there was alot core elements I really hated about the system dynamic, so I was once avoiding the stuff now consuming multiple perspectives on the subject to gather multiple perspectives.

Boiled down to several core features such as the usage of pheromones with primal instincts and weak submission nature of the mentioned "omega" with this "alpha" being their one desire. A good majority made Omegas lesser in a way, gave them roles equal to or less than the woman of Rome (literal objects of possession meant for trade or prizes). Minor fixes to the social status of Omegas can easily fix this. (I'll explain in a future post)

To summarize my disdain, this stuff isn't remotely human, and I'm tired of it being the dynamic being used for humans or werewolves rather than some humanoid monster esque creatures in place of literal mankind

So, over the past month, I have been researching other animals to fix this very disliked part of the omegaverse to me and finally came to a conclusion I would like the community to add on or takeaway over time

I'll make more posts further explaining my ideas in depth with pictures for the future... stay tuned for anatomy explanations of how in the fuck something like this would work and how I make it aesthetically pleasing to look at while maintaining humanizing features to please fanfic writers

What circle of hell have I fallen into...

[allthepandasintheworld]

1, 8, 10, 11, 22, delear's choice on fandom 👀

choosing violence :)

i'm gonna go dc themed for this one (when it applies) thanks for the ask archie!!

also, as a disclaimer, it's stuff i personally dislike for whatever reason. i've filtered tags and blocked the majority of people who say/talk about these things, but occasionally posts do escape through my filters bc a lot of the shit i'm annoyed by with DC are SUPER common among the fandom (which is partially why im annoyed)

the character everyone gets wrong

BATMAN. god. not even the actual writers can write a batman i can tolerate. there are like. maybe five(?) fanfic authors whose batman takes i actually enjoy? the others are so hit or miss. i barely even browse the tags anymore it's too much emotional effort to filter through the fics that are left even if i use stringent filters

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

that clark/bruce can't have a dad bod or be pudgy or be fat. like there are SO many artists who draw them in these ways, and also? Strength isn't defined by how dehydrated you are when you flex? you need fat to pad out the muscles, or else you're going to REALLY hurt after working out so much. yes, even clark. besides, the soft look is sweet. i like it a lot. i know i draw them a bit more on the 'hunk' side, but i will defend the dad bod/chubby/fat bruce and clark truthers to my death

10. worst part of fanon

the sheer number of people who try to heteronormify a literal gay pairing

no actually it's two things: clark being nothing more than an idiot (he's allowed his himbo moments but he's also very competent!!) and bruce being... abusive? verbally or physically?? there's like two sides of fanon bruce that i strongly hate: the bordering on abusive bruces and the bruces who are aggressively baby-ified. both are. not fun. a certain amount of pathetic is fine in a man, whatever, i love rene and he's a super pathetic man, but there's like there's a point when it stops being 'ah yeah just a sad little man' and starts being 'the author is REALLY piling shit onto him and putting ALL the responsibility on the other character to fix him'.

11. number of fandom-related words you've filtered

ok depends on fandom but for DC? like. four? i think. no wait five, although the fifth is like sometimes hit or miss bc there ARE a lot of major character deaths (and undeaths) in canon and like i don't really care as long as it's not permanent?

but i filter a/b/o (and related tags), mpreg, incest, and rape. all are self explanatory, but just filtering the first two ALONE absolutely guts the fic count and i stare at the fic counter the way you might watch a horror protagonist just barely get away from the killer without realizing it. am i saying the fandom has rank-ass taste? yes. actually. who knew so many people had a kink for bioessentialism?

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

in THIS big of a fandom i feel like there isn't a lot that people ignore? like there's something for everybody, and i mean everybody. although i do feel like a disproportionate number of people prefer batman and the batfam over superman and the superfam and im really sad about that bc people automatically write them off as 'good is boring', and the canon writers often do the same. which like. guys. cmon. it's not 'boring' to put your entire (superpowered) might into uprooting the deeply entrenched weeds of oppressive systems in the world and looking forward to a brighter future. that's why we fight?? isn't it? so we can have a better tomorrow??? superman isn't boring at all, happiness and hope isn't boring. hope and happiness find meaning in knowing that they are not the default, that we have to work hard and struggle for it!! anyways. i do follow some people who talk about this so it's not entirely ignored, but like in the wider ship spaces i do NOT see enough people talking about this specific element of superman. i think they all just think he's hot. which i agree with. but i ALSO think he's cool and interesting and more than just his appearance.

[audio-luddite]

Weird shit.

I guess Tumblr uses AI that is quite stupid. Actually I object to the term AI and suggest using SI as "simulated intelligence" is more accurate. Like simulated vanilla versus actually the seed pod of an exotic tropical orchid. Kinda similar but absolutely not the real thing.

Reason is the post just following this one. I will look at my scribblings from outside tumblr to see how it looks from there. To one side suggestions appear. Beside my discussion of phonograph tone arms appeared undertaker (death professionals) equipment, Mercedes car parts, devices to assist old people pick up stuff, cable supports and something in Arabic, and another in Thai? Not at all related to anything I write about.

I am sure my tags had nothing to do with that. So Tumblr reads the text and somehow derives that utterly random stupid stuff is related?

Maybe it just had a bad day. A cosmic ray hit a bit register and off into random land. That sure promises peace and prosperity when our computer overlords come to power.

Anyway to business.

I am being tempted. The QUAD 405 amplifier is an elegant example of iconoclastic thinking. It dated from the late 1970s and was respected by the golden ears of the time. It had its limitations which are usually attributed to the limitations of the QUAD ESL 57, and later ESL 63 speaker. Those were darlings of golden ears for decades. This amplifier could drive them which is impressive, but had current limiting and stuff to keep from hurting the ESL 57.

This amp used what they called current dumping. The main signal was carried by a Class A amplifier. When more power was needed big brawny (for 1979) transistors would pour in the amps to help. The output was compared to the input but the correction was made only to the class A part. That is sort of like Feed Forward rather than feedback.

One of the objections "some people" have to feedback is that the correction is to a signal that has already gone by so is never right. Alternatively they say the circuit is flawed so sending a correction signal back to go through the same flawed circuit will never make it perfect. I guess the speed of light is just not fast enough for them.

A new product called the Benchmark AHB2 power amplifier pays royalties on a patent by THX Inc. for a feed forward scheme that to me sounds exactly like the old QUAD idea.

So there always seems to be a QUAD 405 or two listed in various places. There is one listed in my area for $800 bucks which is generally market value. It is a Mark 1. I just saw a Mark 2 listed for $420 bucks. It has a physical blemish or two but operates. Hence I get twitchy.

There are several kits from reliable sources that offer upgrades and restoration. The current limiting can be modified. Better OP Amps are available. The power supply can be fixed and upgraded. And all that can be done for reasonable money still well under $800 market value.

I am curious. My current set of amplifiers are a similar design vintage. But the QUAD is an outlier. The design is compact, basically simple and like the song says it's a "go your own way" design. There are many out there so there is a healthy fanbase and technical support. I would like to compare it to mine. Then I could sell it. I have no actual desire to own it. I would like to hear how it sounds when it is in good shape.

Right now my system is powerful, detailed and relaxing to listen to. I can just listen to my music. That really is what this is about.

But I am a nerd.

[35mmproject]

Update

If you're reading this it means I didn't finish updating the blog in time and there might be a short break in posts while I finish that up. I think I've nailed down a much smoother way of running this blog that also expands on the tag system while severely cutting down on admin/behind the scenes time. It's taken a few weeks, even longer by the time this post lol but it will make things better moving forward.

Mostly I've been working on a master spreadsheet and formulas/scripts that will compile and draft posts for me based on the spreadsheet information, then I just need to go through the drafts, add whatever touches need to be done, and queue it up! (I am not an excel girlie nor am i a programming girlie which is why all this took so long lmao)

I've also got my hands on both new scanning software and an actual decent photo editor, so I can do quick edits both on my computer and my phone, and good, sellable edits on my computer. With the new scanning software I should be able to go back and re-scan the slides that clearly didn't scan correctly but I was too busy to fix the first time around. (June 10th update: fuck that new software. Keeps closing in the middle of scanning. Returning to ol' reliable Cyberview X)

Alongside all that I've also been working on updating the blog to the new, more consistent, tags. I have another spreadsheet that grabs all posts and let's me fix the tags, which I just copy/paste from the master spreadsheet when I have a bunch done, and then auto-fixes them in the post. So with that being said maybe...scroll back through and see if I've added anything to your favorite picture? I've been doing a lot of google maps hunting haha. Please validate me. Last note: please ignore the slight jump in photo ID's. We are now at the point where my first hard drive crapped out and I had to start a second so a wedding got cut in half and I'm waiting to see what I can recover from the first drive before posting that particular batch, so I'm skipping to the next one: China 1985. Anyways. Thanks for being here and reading this. Love you. Have a nice day.

[darthnell]

11, 19, 28, 30, 42

Hi anon ! Ty for the ask ! :D

11. Link your three favorite fics right now.

Oh god three of mine or three in general..??? Um. A..? I guess I’ll do both !!

Three of mine: True Vengeance, THE REPARATION CLAUSE, The Bridges We Burn

Three of others: The Illusion of Life, A Great Leap in the Dark, Mors Vincit Omnia

19. What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

Oh I bet for sure it’s gonna be “graphic depictions of violence” LMAO. Aside from like. The thg fandom tags. Also “original characters” and “alternate universe”. The “canon-typical violence” tag is also my best friend and i love when I surpass that one. Canon atypical violence. I think ive used that one before but only once so it doesn’t count here, but it is funny. OH- the “careers have issues” tag. Also my best friend<3 really fucking excellent tag

28. On average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

Pshhhhh uhhhh…. I’m actually just coming off of an event where i wrote like 35k in the span of 5 weeks which is. Not typical ! This past week-ish I have written exactly Zero words (: …at like. Normal times, I probably can do a solid 1k or in that ballpark. I have been known to bang out like 3k in a day if I’m rly in the zone (i was Unwell last july LMFAO) but also I rly don’t typically write every day. Would like to! Need to build a new schedule though. Hard for me to write on the days when I work but I only work part time atm. I am also. Kind of a slow writer usually. I’ve only written as much as I have bc I write frequently ! ((Or I try to))

30. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished?

Good god I think I’d perish if I shared rough drafts. Like, on ao3… is that a thing..? So like. My shit isn’t perfect. There’s definitely typos I’ve missed and all that jazz, but I usually heavily edit my chapters before posting. The event I did recently was also like my first time having a beta which was neat but. This is rly silly, bear with me - so I had two separate docs for that, one I wrote the fic in and another that I shared w the betas, because the idea of someone having access to all my rough outlines and watching me on the doc as I write makes me Viscerally uncomfortable, I can’t rly explain it better than that. Anyways, the funny part is, said beta would point out a grammar mistake or typo, and I’d go “nice” and fix it, but forget to fix it on the other doc. So when I. When I posted the fic from the original doc… you can see where this is going maybe. Actual clown idiot moment LMFAO. Tl;dr - I attempt to polish. Doesn’t always turn out shiny jdjddjdk

42. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

Ooh ! Last one I read was In The Clear by District11-Olive on FFN. So this one is technically thg but very au; it’s set in modern day Canada where a show called The Cut forced teenaged criminals to fight to the death in order to regain their freedom or get a “second chance”. It’s Really well written and also an excellent commentary on what it means to be a criminal and prison systems in general. This one’s actually the third and final installment of the series, wooh! It’s not complete yet; the story just reached the start of the death match part and its so 👁️👄👁️ It’s also a SYOC fic (Submit Your Own Character). Not open for submissions now, but u might see some of my characters if you check it out c:

Gotta also rec The Furthest Star by geologyisms on FFN since I’m in the middle of (re) reading it.. again 🥺 This is the fic I received from the exchange I took part in recently ! So the main pov char Solan Gardener (D9 tribute in the male slot but uses they/them) was created by me but the story was written by erik/geologyisms ! Ve did such a lovely job with my kiddo u should definitely check it out!! 10/10 new comfort fic fr ;—;

Ty again anon for the question, I had fun !!! <3

[citrus-simp]

Mission Log 02

A/N: This one took veerrryyyyy long, but it's here! As always enjoy and let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

Warnings; language, suggestive themes/talk, smut, short sex scene, office sex, cockpit sex(*) and yes more is to come in the future

"Day 27 on our space trip to our new home. I am Co-captain Y/N Ackerman and this is my husband Levi Ackerman. It has been 2 days since I have woken up from hypersleep, and we are still waiting on the others to wake up. Our food stock is fine, the indoor garden has recently started to bud through the dirt so that's good. I miss home a lot, so it's hard adjusting to the environment until we reach our destination. Other than that, do you have anything to add Levi?" you say looking over to your husband

"Nothing to add, just hoping Hange wakes up before the brats do. Aside from that, you said what was on my mind. This is Levi and Y/N Ackerman signing off." the screen goes black and the log is saved into the files. You lean back in your chair and huff air out of your lungs

"You feeling okay?" Levi said pulling your chair closer to his "is there too much space?"

"Hey you never make jokes, are you sure you're not an alien disguised as my husband?" you smile placing a kiss on his cheek

"Yes I'm sure, but really are you alright?" he asked. He's been very concerned over you ever since you've woken up. He's been very attentive and alert about your well-being, your health, everything—more than usual if anything. Maybe he was right……

“I’m fine….maybe the whole Space, ship, and cargo and hypersleep thing are getting to be a little….I’m okay though.” You smile at him "now come on we have lots of work to do and things to check."

This was routine to do at least once a month. You checked on food supply, the fragile future you were carrying, the crew who was still dormant, and of course everyone else who was awake. Sometimes you checked the engine just to make sure and the cargo bay in case something was out of place. Today was a bit strange since there was something going on in the cargo bay. The lights had gone out.

"Do you think you can check on it and make sure it's nothing major that needs fixing at the moment?" Erwin asked

"Yeah, I got it."

"Levi, I need you to go and refresh our systems for temperature control."

"Whatever you say eyebrows." he shrugged "be careful in the cargo," he said giving your cheek a kiss

"Well he's more protective than usual" Erwin commented as his eyes didn't leave the main monitor

"I think it's just the whole space thing, and having to recolonize and all this," you said motioning to the ship as a whole "anyway let's go get those lights back on"

Walking down the quiet vessel you lose yourself in the quietness. It was weird, you knew at the moment there were only 3 of you awake but.....you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Sure there were cameras but Erwin wasn't stalking you. You just felt like a pair of extra eyes were watching your every move so far.

You come to the steps of the cargo bay where it was pitch black. You turned on your flashlight and shine it into the darkness. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, everything was in place. From the door frame, you could see the power panel in the back as if glowed red in the darkness. You sigh and carefully make your way down the steps, shining light on each step on the way down.

Being in the dark didn't help settle your thoughts of being watched. You walk as quickly as you could to the back of the bay and tap away at the panel.

"Come on, come on," you whisper to yourself as the system booted up again.

*taptaptaptap* You quickly spin around as you heard a quick step run past. Your breathing hitched, and your heart banged against your chest.

"Levi? Levi if that's you stop fucking around" you say out into nothingness. Dead silence.......it was uncomfortable. You could hear your own pulse in your ears. Your stomach was doing flips and your eyes desperately trying to find the source of the sound. *taptaptaptaptap* There it was again. That was it. You had to get out of there.

Looking back at the panel there was still about 35% to go "Shit, shit!" your flashlight flickers as if it wanted to die on your right there and then.

"Come on you gotta be kidding me, fuck!" you curse as you smack your flashlight against your palm. Your heart raced and your eyes started to water from the increasing anxiety. The panel reached 50% and it was enough for you to start running back to the stairs. You ran as fast as you could, running into the corner of some boxes, sure to leave a bruise. Finally starting up the stairs just as you were halfway up a burning sensation appeared on your leg. You hiss at the pain and keep going. You finally reach the door and slam it shut. You pant as you lean against the door trying to calm yourself. Looking down at your leg you had 3 long cuts across your ankle.

"Fuck......what the hell was down there?" you ask yourself still in shock

"Y/N, I got the temperature fixed, and guess who- Y/N! What happened?!" Levi jogged to you once he saw your condition and how scared you were "Did you cut yourself down there?"

"No! Someone-something was down there with me. I-I don't know what it was. T-then the flashlight w-wanted to die on me and-and I got cut b-by something" you try and explain through a shaky voice as tears run down your face. Levi wipes away your tears, hating to see you this shaken up.

"Okay first let's get you cleaned up, some water and then I'll go down there and see exactly what was down there" taking one of your arms around his neck he helps you to the med bay to get the cuts cleaned and wrapped. You sit on the examination table as e tries to clean your wounds carefully. He disinfects them and wraps them up. He wanted to believe that you were just clumsy and hit a sharp box....but those cuts were too big. You were scared out of your mind and you didn't scare easily. Hopefully, it was something like a raccoon that got on.

"I want you to stay off your feet for at least today alright? I'll talk to Erwin" he kissed your forehead and embraced you to try and bring you some comfort. You were calmer than you were before but he knew you were still shaken up.

"So is Y/N not awake just yet?" well that wasn't Erwin's voice. Could it be?! In poked the head of your best friend and coworker, Hange Zoe. The mad scientist who was also on the ship with you and your husband. She also happened to be the one who introduced you to your stoic husband. She waltzed in fresh out of the shower, you wanted to stand and greet her but Levi kept you on the table.

"Aww, you got hurt without me? No fair!" she whined coming over to hug you tightly "but it's always good to see my best friend. Has Levi treated you well since I've been asleep?" she whispered to you as she hugged you. Levi simply sighed at the obvious question. Even after being asleep for months on end, she was still the same Hange you remember.

"Well, I'll let you two get back to what you were doing while I get familiar with the ship." she smiled and waved goodbye. At least her small visit made you forget about the event that happened beforehand. The room emptied and it was only your and Levi once again.

"Come on, I'll take you to our room and I'll go and check what's down there." he picked you up and held you tightly against him. If anyone thought he was being overly protective he was. They were in space for crying out loud and now look what happened. He really didn't have anyone besides you, Erwin, and Hange, and you were closest to his heart than anyone. He only wanted you safe and happy.

After laying you down to rest he took it upon himself to investigate what had happened. He went into the cargo bay which was back up and running. There was one box out of place which you had run into, but nothing out of the ordinary. A few drops of blood on the steps from where you had gotten hurt. Everything seemed normal but there was nothing on the steps that could have hurt you.....so how? He'd make sure this wouldn't be on your tasks for the next time.

Later on, it was almost normal again. All 4 of you were around the table enjoying some drinks, stories, and good laughter. Hange especially enjoyed Levi when he drank since he became so out of character. He was very loving and affectionate with you and it was just interesting to see since he usually is only like that behind closed doors.

"Hey promise me, something guys, once we land and have things settled, let's do this again, only not in space" you offered as you raise your glass

"Promise," they all said in unison as you clink your glasses together and drink to your promise

"So," Hange starts "What's sex in space like?"

You spat out your drink and nearly choked on your drink "HANGE!"

"WHAT?! I'm curious about it in 0 gravity!" she expressed

"Hey, the genius we have artificial gravity on the ship" Levi answered back to shut down her topic

"Pst Erwin," she "whispered" behind her hand "The next time they're in their room turn off the gravity"

"I can hear you, idiot," Levi informed her while pulling you closer to him

"Alright everyone settle down, it's time to rotate positions," Erwin said "Y/N You have navigation for the next shift then Hange will switch out with you since she's familiar with the controls. I also understand Levi would want to be there with you." he announced, "If anything happens you may find me in my room for anything at all."

"G'night Erwin"

"Night eyebrows" Levi waved as you both stood up and head to the cockpit. Meanwhile, Hange went to get familiar and set up her lab for research. You made sure the ship was still on track, the temperature was stable, cameras were working, engines were fine and the gas was still full and wouldn't have to be attended to for at least a few weeks. You clear out the panel and gaze out into the infinite emptiness that held all the stars and more. You thought over how things have gotten to where they are now.

From space to a new planet, with 100 embryos to care for and protect. You would think of those embryos and about the dream you had while you were asleep. You had always wanted kids with Levi...so why would you not want the pregnancy in the dream? It felt strange too..like it wasn't yours...something else

"Hey, if it makes you feel better I went down into the cargo bay and took a look around," he said seeing that you were staring off into space-literally.

"Thank you, Levi, I think I just don't want to talk about it anymore" you smile "...but could you indulge me in something?" you asked spinning in your chair

"What? do you want to turn off the gravity?" he teased you

*"Well, the gravity will stay on but," you clicked a button that made a lock sound, locking the door "but I do want to try out a fantasy I've had"

"In here?" he asked raising an eyebrow "you know we did try this back on Earth in my office but now you wanna do it in space?" he chuckled spinning his chair to face you. You stand up and walk over to straddle his lap

"Well the crew is asleep, Hange is busy and the door is locked," his hands automatically come to sit on your hips. You could already feel him through his pants. You had to admit even tho you were asleep you can tell just how long it's been.

"I missed you" he huffed under his breath as your lips come closer to his

"Well...I'm here now" your lips crash in a fiery and passionate kiss. It felt familiar yet new like you were kissing for the first time ever. You felt yearning and want in the pit of your stomach. You wanted him but you also wanted to give yourself to him as well. Clothes were torn off, marks were left, hair was messed up.

You found yourself soon bouncing on Levi's lap bringing you both the pleasure you so desperately craved. You were so tight on him, yet it was a perfect fit and he stretched you perfectly while still feeling comfortable and familiar.

"fuck Levi, right there" you threw your head back as rocked against him hitting every spot possible. "Ugh so good!"

"Yeah..that's the spot..there?!" he panted thrusting upward into you meeting you halfway with filling the room with lewd sounds. Moans, pants, skin against skin, anyone would think you might have been watching porn. Levi then stood up and carefully sat you on the control panel. You skin being illuminated by blue light form below made you look like an angel... a dirty one at best. He slams himself back Into you spreading your legs apart to get to where you really need it. His skilled thumb finding your clit as he runs gentle circles

“N-never again….never that long again. Fuck! Y/N...I love you” he exclaims as you feel him twitch inside of you, you following soon after.

This was definitely an experience. You have heard of sex under the stars but takes it to a whole new level. You sat on the control panel looking up and out into space trying to catch your breath. Levi's forehead resting on your collarbone, leaving small pecks here and there. A small thank you and sorry for the past actions you both part-took in.

"Any more fantasies I should know about?" he asked making you laugh

"Well, I'll let you know if any new ones pop up" you answer back.

After cleaning, your small mess you both went back to your assigned shift. In the meantime, you used the large screen to look back on memories before you had left for this. Levi had made sure to save your wedding tape so you could have it no matter what planet you go to. You watch as your younger selves dance to your song. No matter how many people were in the room, at that moment you would look into Levi's eyes and only see him in the room.

Space was something unknown, and terrifying, but you weren't scared because you had Levi.

"Hey, why is the door locked.......OH-!" you hear Hange's voice behind the locked door. "COME ON GUYS I'M TOUCHING THE PANEL NEXT I DON'T NEED TO TOUCH LEVI'S JIZZ!!!!" you honestly couldn't help but laugh at the scientist. You unlock the door and try not to smile at Hange and blow your cover.

"You guys couldn't wait till I was done? Jeez," she chuckled and heard the tune that was playing on loop "Oh man your wedding song, I remember that. I also remember drinking too much...Hey Y/N, why don't you get some rest? I'll cover for you. Promise I won't keep Levi here too long" she offered with a smile

"Well, I am kinda sleepy, thanks Hange." you stand up and kiss Levi on the cheek "Night guys." you wave making your way to your room to get some well-deserved rest.

As soon as you left Hange's smile fell "Levi, something isn't right.." she said in a serious tone. "I ran some tests and I thought the system may be a little screwed up but it's picking up 5 awake crew members. The only ones I know are awake right now are you, Y/N, Erwin, and myself."

"What so....you're saying there might be someone or something on board with us?" he asked crossing his arms. "And could have that extra thing be what attacked Y/N? Maybe it's some rodent that got on Hange"

"I don't know yet...but it goes deeper than that. One of the pods was already open and empty...and it looked like it had been that way for a while. It was in the back row and barely noticeable. Y/N, already had a scare so I didn't want to tell her and make her worried." she explained

If someone did get out of the pod...why hadn't Levi seen them yet? Were they the ones who hurt you? He never kept anything from you, but you didn't need any more stress than what you had already. Even if he had to do this on his own, he'd get to the bottom of this.

But just what or who was on the ship with them?

Prev Next->

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[kageyuji]

accidentally grabbing his crush’s ass

⤷ kuroo, bokuto, iwaizumi, akaashi, kageyama ; gn!reader

tags: the title of these hcs lol, vague sexual innuendos(?), kuroo’s is kind of friends to ass-grabbing if you squint

notes: i did hcs like this a while back if these feel familiar, plagiarism isn’t sexy <3 although reblogs are highly appreciated

━━ KUROO

kenma was not a good wingman. at all.

but he tried his best </3

which was why he had invited both you and kuroo to hang out with him, the three of you were friends after all

kenma had planned on “accidentally” locking you two in a room together

what kenma hadn’t planned on was kuroo embarrassing himself before kenma even had the chance to put his plan in action

kuroo was crouched on the floor trying to fix kenma’s gaming system (god knows why it chose today to eat the game card)

he was completely unaware you were standing behind him and, somehow, in his peripheral he had assumed you were kenma’s desk chair

reaching behind himself to grab the chair and pull it over so he could sit in it, his eyes and one hand were still occupied

the other hand was now on your ass

it doesn’t register in his mind at first, he just knows that whatever he’s grabbing it isn’t the chair he thought

he literally turns his head slowly and when he looks at you hes like 😃

“ahah whoops”

“i’m so sorry, i was reaching for the chair”

“kuroo your hand is still on my ass”

he takes his hand away and then apologizes again but there is no hope for him, not when he is red to the tips of his ears

not to mention kenma, who is snickering a few feet away from the cataclysm that just unfolded infront of him

━━ BOKUTO

bokuto koutarou: king of not paying attention to what he is doing

especially not around you, he’s so focused on being perfect to impress you that he often ends up ignoring the minor things — the things that make you realize just how clumsy but sweet he actually is

you’d went to watch him at practice, who were you to turn him down when he said you were welcome to come?

plus, the entire team knew about his crush (it was hard not to with how much he talked about you) and they wanted to meet the person who always made their captain so starstuck and giddy

his eyes were focused on the volleyball court; he couldn’t look at you, he was putting on a serious act in hopes that you’d like him

that’s why when he reached behind himself for a volleyball he accidentally grabbed your ass

immediately realizes what he’s done, turns around and starts apologizing

he gets all pouty as well. he thinks you won’t like him now, even worse he thinks he’s offended you and now you hate him

“i didn’t mean- y/n, i swear i was grabbing a ball, i would never- :(((“

please tell him it’s ok he looks so sad

━━ IWAIZUMI

hajime iwaizumi: king of not paying attention to what he’s doing part 2

it’s not that he’s inherently oblivious to everything, he just. notices what needs to be noticed and passes over everything else

but he hadn’t heard you walk into the gym, hadn’t seen you sit on the bench in front of him when he knelt down beside his gym bag

oikawa knew you were there, so of course he smiled and loudly called “iwa-chan!”

iwaizumi, of course, went to stand up and grabbed at the bench to help himself

the bench he didn’t realize you were sitting on

so when he grabbed your waist, he also was pulling you to him. unintentionally, of course, but he was doing it nonetheless

which ended up with you falling (or rather, being dragged) off the bench and into iwa’s lap

both of you have to take a moment to process what just happened

eventually you both come to the realization that you’re sitting between his legs with his hands still somewhat on your hips and somewhat on your ass

he doesn’t want to push you off of him, but you’re currently still trying to process the situation and not moving

so he takes his hands from under your ass and slips away from behind you

“i uhm... i’m sorry, y/n. i didn’t see you, i thought i was grabbing the bench-”

“it’s alright iwa! accidents happen.”

he’ll never admit that he’s blushing. oikawa, makki, and mattsun laughing does not help the red tint in his cheeks though

━━ AKAASHI

bless his heart omg,,,, anyways SHDBSJDB

bokuto is a good wing man!! or at least he thinks he is 😀

but he had successfully talked you into coming to practice with him and akaashi

there wasn’t much convincing to do though, considering you had had a crush on akaashi for ages and would jump at any opportunity to be around him

but nevertheless, akaashi was setting for bokuto as always. the bin of volleyballs he always had was right beside him

...except it was on the opposite side he was used to, being that bokuto had insisted it be moved so you could stand near akaashi

he reached behind himself for a ball, but accidentally grabbing your ass instead

he realizes his mistake as soon as hes made it

even though he takes his hand back and is already stumbling out an apology, he has to turn and look at you because oh my god he did not just do that,,, oh no he did

eventually he manages to sting enough words together that it sounds something like an apology — he is sorry, he’s just far too embarrassed by what just happened to form a proper sentence

“it’s ok! don’t worry, things happen. i know you didn’t mean it” and suddenly akaashi knows that hes in deep

“uhm- yeah, sorry again. maybe you can just hand me the balls from now on ok?”

━━ KAGEYAMA

either kageyama was going to kill hinata or hinata was going to kill him, he didn’t mind which came first

hinata had invited both of you to a restaurant with him, and then ditched just as soon as you and kageyama had both arrived

of course, to you it was just bad timing. to kageyama however, he knew this was hinata’s attempt to get you to closer

kageyama tobio, who had no clue how to talk to his crush, was going to sit in a restaurant alone with you

much to his surprise though, he found himself enjoying your company. you were much kinder and easier to talk to than he had imagined in his mind, that much was clear

but of course he had to mess up. and of course it was in the most (though unintentional) perverted way

he reached to hold the door open for the people behind you whenever you were leaving but had miscalculated where you were walking

meaning he had his hand rested on your ass instead of the door

he jerks his hand back like a man scalded almost as soon as it happens

he’s stuttering and mumbling out an apology as well. it’s barely coherent, but you were laughing too hard anyways

please stop laughing he wants nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never have to face you again

“kags! it’s ok, seriously. it’s more funny than weird i promise. take me out again and we’ll call it even, alright?”

kageyama.exe has stopped working

© kageyuji 2021. do not copy, modify, or otherwise plagiarize in any way.

[bb-8]

Tech Savvy

Pairing: Tech x female reader Summary:  You’re an ex-imperial who has a crush on Tech. He’s awkward about it. Until he’s not. Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI) Warnings/tags: crack treated seriously, smut, unprotected PIV, awkward flirting, oral sex, first kisses, accidental exhibitionism, lots of bad jokes, slight angst Word count: 5.4K Notes: It’s smutty crack treated seriously, guys. Read on AO3.

The planet you land on isn’t anything special. It’s a humid swamp world in the Outer Rim that offers enough seclusion for even the Empire’s Most Wanted to pass by unnoticed.

You, being the kind and selfless individual you are, decide to help with repairs while Clone Force 99 are on a supply run. It’s the first time the ship has made planet fall in weeks and everyone is a bit stir-crazy, jumping at the chance to stretch their legs. Prolonged time spent in hyperspace has that effect.

Before he left, you told Hunter that your status as an ex-Imperial put an unnecessary target on their back. You’re still wearing your Imperial uniform, after all, and you know for a fact that the Empire is not exactly merciful to deserters. Especially deserters that committed high treason. Like aiding Clone Force 99’s escape from an Imperial prison.

You definitely didn’t just jump at the chance to stay behind because Tech opted to. That would be ridiculous.

You feel your face heat at the thought.

(What? His goggles are cute.)

The truth is, there’s been something – a tension, as it were – between the two of you since you arrived on board. You know it, he knows it. You’ve been orbiting around each other for some weeks now, and this is the first time you’ve been alone –

“Can you spare a minute?” Tech calls out, pulling you away from your thoughts. You swivel in your chair and shift your attention to him, a bit surprised.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t realise I was on board,” you reply as you make your way to the cockpit where Tech is currently fiddling with some wires.

“You’re...very hard to miss,” Tech replies and your heart skips a beat. “The ship is far too small to miss another sentient being’s presence.”

“Right,” you mutter while taking a seat, trying not to sound too deflated. So maybe he didn’t feel that tension. “What do you need help with?”

“I am taking this opportunity to rewrite the ship’s central comm unit to be more covert when passing through areas with increased Imperial traffic. If I can update the ship’s communication infrastructure to resemble that of a first generation Imperial craft, then we will considerably reduce our chances of being identified. Which is why I am particularly glad you stayed behind today. Considering your, er, history.” He fiddles with a mess of wires in front of him, not once looking up.

“And here I was thinking you wanted me around because you enjoyed my company,” you playfully jab.

“There’s that, too,” Tech replies. “Though it would be advantageous if you could list all of the Imperial access codes you can remember. The computer and I can do some pattern recognition to better–,” he cut himself off and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “Apologies, you don’t need a long-winded explanation. If you’re happy to share, you can do so whenever you’re ready.”

You consider protesting and telling him that you find his rambling cute, but you decide not to dwell on it for his sake. You list the codes you remember from the Academy. You keep talking, relaying any tangential intel relating to access codes. If it’s irrelevant, Tech doesn’t stop you.

He is silent for a few moments analysing the data you’ve given him. You watch him closely, admiring the way his brow furrows and his lips purse while he’s concentrating.

“You trust me then?” you venture to say. You play with your hands in your lap. “Even though I was with the Empire?”

“You’re helping us now,” Tech replies, as if it’s obvious. He is still inputting data into the datapad he is holding when he continues, “You trust us, it would seem. And we were soldiers programmed upon our creation to destroy the Republic.”

You fumble over your next words.

“That’s – it’s entirely different.”

“And from my perspective, all that matters is where you are now,” he states with finality.

“Well,” you say shyly, “I like where I am.”

Tech smirks despite himself, briefly glancing up at you from his datapad.

You hold his gaze for a moment, before settling into a comfortable silence. You sit in next to him for several minutes, revelling in his closeness like a brezak basking under the Zygerrian sun. It’s only when you notice yourself blushing like a teenager that you decide to make yourself useful and actually help with repairs like you promised.

++++++++++++++++++++

“Would you mind holding this wire out of the way for me while I solder the capacitors for the localised memory bank?” Tech calls, breaking your concentration. The illumination device you were repairing could wait.

You have no idea what Tech means, if his string of words means anything, and you survey his makeshift workbench for a hint. Several panels are detached, limply dangling from a few brightly coloured wires. Tech is focusing his attention on a large panel that is plugged into a cylindrical storage device.

“Maker, that’s a big data stick,” you can’t help but mutter.

Tech makes an incoherent choking sound.

You do as requested and lean over his shoulder to take hold of the wire he specified between your thumb and forefinger. The fabric of your sleeves brushes against his shoulder armour and it feels as though there is a static shift in the air, like the air around you is alive and humming.

And Tech gulps with the contact. He types a few sets of numbers into his datapad with excess force, seriously testing the build quality of the device. His posture is especially rigid as focuses on testing the wires currently in his lap.

Your pulse is racing. It’s as if each second that passes without a confession threatens to rip apart the very fabric of reality.

“Tech?” He has to feel this too, right? “Why...why did you stay behind today?” you ask, careful to keep your voice even. You need him to say it, admit that he feels it, too. You’re desperate for it.

“You can let go now,” he replied, pointedly ignoring your question.

You let go of the wire, but make no move to step away from him. You’re acutely aware of yourself right now and suddenly self-conscious: about the deep shade of crimson enveloping your face, the way you’re breathing, the clamminess you can feel on your palms. You hope you smell alright and silently pray that any traces of caf on your breath are long gone.

Several seconds pass before Tech looks up, over his shoulder at you. His face briefly flickers with concern.

“Your flushed features and increased heart rate indicates that you are nervous,” he remarks.

Maker, is it that obvious, you cringe.

Your mouth is dry and you contemplate making an excuse, but your brain does not want to cooperate.

“Sometimes I –,” you begin. Void, here I go. “Sometimes I get nervous around you,” you admit, attempting to make your confession sound as casual as possible. You bite your bottom lip in a way that you hope will be interpreted as sensual, or, at the very least, cute.

And Tech? Tech is flustered. Like visibly shaken, blushing furiously, two-steps-away-from-hyperventilating, kind of flustered.

“Please do not be nervous,” he responds tightly. Each word is taking considerable effort to be spoken. “I already told you: we trust you. I am not a threat to you.”

The poor guy. There’s no way he can really be misinterpreting that –.

“No, no, it’s a good kind of nervous,” you attempt to clarify.

“Nervousness is not conducive to high quality work,” Tech chokes out.

“No, I mean like giddy. I feel giddy around you.”

Come on, Tech.

“Would you like a chair–.”

“Stars, Tech, I like you!”

Tech...errors. He attempts to start several sentences with no success before mumbling an excuse that he has to go, “fix the reverse polarity capacitive inductor,” which, to your knowledge, is definitely not a real thing.

So maybe that could have gone better. All things considered, he did seem affected by your admission. On the other hand, he also left the room entirely.

Your face burns with embarrassment and, hey, maybe this backwater planet could make a decent home. Maybe the swamp water would be safe for consumption and you could spend the rest of your days foraging for swamp... berries. Sure, it might be a little uncomfortable, but no less uncomfortable than staying here for one more second.

And this is why you don’t admit your feelings to anyone. Ever.

Ugh. You were so confident, too. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to transport to another star system.

The door to the ‘fresher shuts, followed by a slight scuffle of feet, and a thunk that sounds decidedly like a head hitting the door.

You briefly consider leaving the ship to attempt to meet up with the rest of the Bad Batch. It’s been far too long since you’ve breathed fresh, clean, air and you feel a second wave of self-pity wash over you as you contemplate the thought of breathing in the smell of Wrecker’s feet for several more weeks in the Marauder’s circulated air. They hadn’t been gone longer than a standard hour and there was a clear path to get into town. You could still salvage the day, you could still stretch your legs–

‘Oh you want to know why I suddenly decided to join you, Hunter, after promising I’d help fix the ship? Funny story, I was trying to seduce your brother and he rejected me!’

You physically cringe at that. On second thought, maybe just pretending this didn’t happen would be the easier option. Lesser of two evils and all that.

Well, you’ve endured worse situations than this. Swamp berries, if they exist, probably won’t offer enough sustenance anyway, you conclude. You turn your attention to fixing several access panels that require little to no attention.

++++++++++++++++++++

It takes a long while for Tech to exit the ‘fresher. The door opens with a hiss and you stiffen, not looking up until he briskly walks past you and resumes his makeshift work station in the cockpit. Once he is seated and his back is facing you and you can hear the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on his datapad, you allow your entire body to relax.

You look back down to your newest project: fixing the swivel action on a chair. You’re not entirely sure if the chair needed to swivel, or whether it was supposed to, but it does now. At least Omega would have fun with that.

“Can you spare another minute?” Tech says after a considerable stretch of silence.

His comment catches you off-guard. It’s fine, it’s fine, you are just going to pretend like nothing happened. You can just carry on helping with actual repairs like you promised.

“I’m coming,” you say, while putting your entire weight into tightening a screw.

Tech coughs slightly.

“The, uh, I need your help with the cum system. The comm system!” he stutters.

Your eyes widen and decide it’s best not to comment, furiously thinking about the fact that Tech rarely makes mistakes. You wipe your hands on your trousers and stride over to the cockpit where Tech is fiddling with some wires on his lap.

“Take these,” he says while coiling a piece of wire to make a conductor. He pushes right through the awkwardness and places a handful of resistors in your outstretched hand.

You stand there in silence for several moments before you drum your fingers on the back of his chair. He makes no move to immediately utilise the resistors, so you resign yourself to stand there and watch him work. (You suppress a sigh – you wish you weren’t attracted to him at this moment, but here you are, drawn in by his confidence and fixated on watching his nimble fingers work their magic.)

Normally, you’d have already lost your patience. But not now, not when you are trying to decipher just what exactly Tech was trying to accomplish by calling you over and ignoring you. And that’s when you realise that Tech either forgot you were there or forgot to give you whichever menial task he originally intended.

But there’s absolutely no chance that Tech makes two mistakes within the same standard year, never mind two mistakes within the same afternoon.

You start to wonder if he even has any use for the resistors. Your knowledge of technology is limited, but you really don’t see how they’d be useful with his current task. Maybe this is Tech’s uncharacteristically inefficient way to try to initiate conversation. You really hope you’re not completely misreading the situation, but it’s not like you have any pride left to lose.

“Why did you stay behind today, Tech?” you ask quietly, voice tinged with apprehension and perhaps an unmistakable eagerness. You phrase it more like a statement than a question this time.

He continues to fidget, his leg bouncing anxiously as he works.

“I did some research,” he blurts. “Regarding intimacy between human males and human females.”

Huh.

“I read the specifics on how to kiss,” he continues, “but I fear that I am a bit out of my depth as to how I am supposed to initiate it.” He is still fussing with the wires in his lap, not quite able to look up at you.

“You...want to kiss?” you surmise, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. “Me?”

“Very much so.”

A grin breaks across your face and the sharp sting of Tech’s previous rejection immediately melts away. You deposit the handful of resistors in a tray containing various tools Tech had been using throughout the day before taking a tentative step forward from behind the chair. He cranes his neck to look at you, an unfamiliar expression that you’re not quite able to decipher written across his face.

You reach your hand out to caress his cheek, and sliding your hand down to his chin to guide it upwards as you bend down to bring your lips to his. The kiss is chaste, at first, but Tech proves himself a quick study as slightly parts his lips to deepen the kiss. His goggles nudge against your face and you’re pretty sure you’re leaving a greasy cheek print on one of them.

You pull away to gauge his reaction.

“Was that... satisfactory?” he asks, seemingly dazed. His eyes are hooded and still focused on your lips.

“It was perfect.” You offer a small smile.

He removes the goggles to clean one side of them with a nearby cloth. So you were leaving a cheek print. Once his goggles are back in place, he’s looking at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real, his golden brown eyes blinking owlishly at you.

“I apologise for leaving you earlier. I did not anticipate you returning my affections – it did not seem probable. And I was, regrettably, not prepared,” he mumbles.

“Probable?” It’s your turn to malfunction. You want to usher a thousand reassurances at once.

“Well, no.” Tech shifts his weight uncomfortably, not quite able to meet your eyes. “Hunter or Crosshair usually are the ones who capture the affections of –,”

“I like your goggles,” you interrupt in a rush before you surge forward to press your lips against his, hoping to convey just how much you return his affections. It’s a messy, urgent kiss that Tech returns with equal fervour. His fingers find their way into your hair, pulling you closer.

When you finally break the kiss, you straighten your back and take both of his hands in yours and take small, hesitant steps backwards, encouraging Tech to stand. As he does, the project he is working on slides off of his lap and clatters to the floor. He pays it no attention as he closes the distance between you, his eyes darkened with lust. He kisses you with renewed purpose as his hands wrap around your waist, roaming across your body, before they settle firmly on your ass.

Your hips grind into his codpiece and Tech lets out a low groan that goes straight to your core. He moves to kiss the curve of your neck, sucking at the delicate skin and making you squirm. The dampness between your legs becomes apparent and you press yourself closer to him, desperate for friction where you need it the most. As if he can read your mind, he trails a hand from your ass and places it between your legs, grazing over your clit before cupping your cunt. You involuntarily rock into his hand and moan into his mouth, hardly recognising the sounds you’re making.

Tech’s hand abruptly stills as he draws back to meet your eyes. His expression mirrors yours: searching wide eyes filled with longing, a silent acknowledgement passes between you as you reach the point of no return.

And in that moment you are struck with the urge to want nothing more than his cock in your mouth.

“Can I?” you blurt, glancing downward, hoping he is able to intuit exactly what you are suggesting in that moment.

“You may.” You allow the grammatical correction to slip by. “But I’ve never–,” he begins.

You don’t break eye contact and you begin to drop to your knees. He’s looking at you with his eyes wide, mouth slack. Tech’s bulged codpiece is mere inches from your face, and it’s in that moment that you realise that you have no idea how to undress this man.

And this, this is when you start to worry.

Does it have a latch? Does it even come off?

Your eyes dart from left to right looking for some sort of hint as to how it could be removed. You’re half tempted to just plant a smooch on the armour or the kiss inside of his thigh and pretend that all of this was intentional.

“I can get that,” Tech helpfully chimes in, blessedly oblivious to your internal struggle. He removes the pelvic plate with ease and, to your relief, you can see the shape of his erection straining under a layer of thick black fabric. Black fabric that conforms to his body shape exceedingly well. You reach out to feel his length, gently cupping his balls through the fabric before applying more pressure as you palm his shaft. He soft groan escapes his lips.

It catches you a little off guard, actually, to see him so hard. Knowing he’s been hard underneath his armour this entire time. Wondering when else he’s been hard and you had been none the wiser.

His cock has an attractive silhouette – it’s thicker than you expected and you can feel the patch of pre-cum that dampens the black fabric near his tip. You reach for his waistband and pull it down before slowly wrapping a hand around his shaft. He hisses with the contact and brings a white-knuckled fist to his lips.

You peer up at him through your lashes and you lick your lips, preparing to tease him a bit before taking him as deep as you can manage.

And that’s when something inside Tech snaps.

He looks down at you with wild eyes and places his hand on the back of your head to guide your mouth to his cock, apparently unable to continue the role of a passive observer for any longer. Clearly intent at putting his newfound research to good use. You lick a wet stripe from the base to the tip, before taking him in your mouth, the pre-cum tangy on your tongue. His grip tightens on your hair the same time he tilts his hips forward to push his cock further and you hollow your cheeks, sucking hard enough to make Tech groan and his knees buckle. He braces himself against the back of the pilot’s chair, captivated at the sight your mouth stretched around his length.

You begin to bob your head in a steady rhythm, taking him as deep as you’re able. You drag your tongue and press it flush on the underside of his cock, looking up at Tech with wide doe eyes, batting your eyelashes prettily as he struggles to maintain composure. You continue your pace until sweat starts to bead at his temple and his breathing becomes less controlled.

Patience isn’t your strong point and you’re too pent up not to touch yourself. You bring your free hand down your trousers, between your thighs, running your fingers through your wet folds and hum at the sensation. Tech’s hips stutter with the vibrations and his face contorts in what looks like a pained grimace. He takes a miniature step back and your lips leave his cock with a pop. He’s breathing heavily now and his weeping cock is painfully hard, his balls tight.

“I don’t want to finish in your mouth, mesh’la,” he pants, voice low.

You nod dumbly, currently unable to form a coherent thought or tear your eyes away from his erect length, only inches away from your face.

Tech takes hold of both of your forearms, helping you get to your feet, before wrapping his hands around your thighs, picking you up with surprising ease. You lock your thighs around his torso as he strides over to press you against one of the auxiliary control panels adjacent to the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit. The incline on the panel is steep and the pressure of his hips against yours is the only thing keeping you from sliding down.

“Let me taste you,” Tech groans against your ear.

You let out a frustrated whine and desperately move to unclasp your trousers as Tech works to open your shirt. You shudder once the cool air hits your sweat-dampened skin and Tech messily palms your exposed breast while nipping at your neck. He helps you shimmy out of your clothing while holding you in firmly place before discarding them on the floor of he Marauder.

And this is how you find yourself spread eagle on the Marauder's control panel in possibly the most undignified position you’ve ever been in.

He goes to remove his goggles and you stop him.

“If they’re not uncomfortable for you, I’d like for you to leave them on.” He quirks a brow at you, quizzical. “What? I told you that they’re cute.”

His face evolves from sceptical to bashful in a few moments.

“Very well, then. I can leave them on.”

Tech moves his hands under your thighs as he lowers himself, draping your legs across each of his shoulders with surprising gentleness for a man who looks like he is ready to devour you. Once he’s on his knees and comfortably supporting your weight, keeping you pressed against the console, he places an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“A-are you okay with this?” you manage to stutter out. It’s not like you haven’t pictured his head between your thighs before, but something about his head actually being between your thighs fills you with a nervousness you hadn’t anticipated.

He mumbles his assurances against your clit. He begins with slow, languid licks and you suck in a sharp breath as you feel yourself craving more and have to stop yourself from violently bucking your hips up.

Okay, so he’s actually really good at this. You know you really shouldn’t be that surprised, Tech is nothing if not thorough with his research and it’s, er, practical applications. Any thoughts of humour at Tech’s expense are, however, ripped from your mind when he sinks a single finger inside your cunt. His finger curls with a precision that only Tech could manage and you moan in encouragement as he pumps it in and out.

You squirm when he hits the spot that makes you want to beg for more and you feel your bare ass hit a button on the console. The next thing you hear is a soft swish swish sound of the Marauder's screen wipers that you inadvertently turned on. Mercifully, it doesn’t break Tech’s concentration and his hands continue to grip your hips, holding your cunt to his face.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you chant. You writhe again and another button sounds its activation. Nothing immediately makes itself known. You hope it’s not something like a proton torpedo firing into the swampy area the Marauder landed in. Not because there’s anything nearby, but because you’ll die if Tech stops here.

He moans into your core as he brings a hand down to grip his leaking cock, desperate for some friction.

“Kriff,” you grunt at the sight of him fucking his fist, only to hear Tech utter the same exclamation at the same time.

“Is there an echo in here or something?” You smile at him, offering a half-laugh before your face contorts with pleasure once again and you hiss through your teeth.

“Yes?” a new, tinny voice chimes in on the overhead speaker system. “This is Echo... You’ve, uh, turned on the short range comm system.”

You knew Tech was a good soldier, but the reflexes in which he slammed the short range comm transmitter with his free hand surprised you. He didn’t move himself from between your thighs and skilfully cut off the transmission while continuing to work your clit with his tongue and your cunt with his finger.

Before you could die from embarrassment and wonder just how much Echo and the rest of the Batch heard, Tech adds another finger and your entire body jerks and tenses.

“I’ve – ah, right there – Maker, that feels good. I’ve never been with anyone who is patient enough to let me come,” you manage to say through gritted teeth.

“My research indicated that it can take around 20 standard minutes for women to orgasm if properly relaxed, why would others stop prematurely?” Tech replies, only briefly removing his mouth from your cunt to reply.

“Selfishness?” you guess.

Tech seemed to take your admission (and ability to form sentences) personally, clearly intent on rendering you incapacitated. He returns to his attention to your clit and maintains his rhythm, teasing a third finger near your entrance. You whine at the sensation and move to hold Tech’s head in place, because if he stops now, there’s no way you’ll ever forgive him. The pressure that’s been mounting in your core finally, finally peaks and your entire body tenses as you surrender to your climax.

“Tech,” you whine, unable to formulate thoughts, let alone words.

He assures you with a soft groan and tightens his grip on your hip. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he guides you through your climax.

As you come down from your orgasm, you feel like you’ve spent a year in bacta. You can’t move. Honestly, your bones are like Andorian jelly. The feeling is only temporary, however, as you’re overcome with the desire – no, need – to be filled.

“In me,” you urge. “Now.”

He adjusts his goggles and looks at you, spread out, completely ready for him.

“Lie back then.”

Tech settles between your thighs and nudges his cock head against your entrance. He takes a breath to steady himself, rubbing his length through your folds, covering it in your arousal.

“So wet and ready for me, mesh’la.”

Your hands wildly grasp at his chest plate, fingernails scratching along the plastoid, desperate to hold onto anything to anchor you. You meet his mouth with a graceless kiss, before he finally sinks into you.

“You’re tight,” he grits out.

He waits a few moments letting you adjust to his size before he begins to move. He restrains himself, slowly rolling his hips as your cunt stretches around his length.

“More,” you plead, breathlessly. “Please.”

Your encouragement is all he needs before he snaps his hips against yours, setting an unrelenting rhythm. He rocks into you harder with each thrust of his hips, his plastoid leg places slapping your skin.

“You feel so good, cyar'ika,” he pants. You surge upwards to greet his lips with a messy kiss, which only spurs him on to fuck you faster. “You’re, ah, taking me so well.”

“Fuck –,” you whine.

His grip tightens and his whole body starts to tense – he’s dangerously close to coming undone. And that’s when you notice his pace start to slow, his movements clearly distracted.

“Tech?” you mumble. You focus your eyes on his face and he looks dazed, you can practically hear him thinking. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but he doesn’t give you any time to panic.

“Elevate your hips by seven to ten degrees,” he states through heavy breaths.

“What?” Definitely not what you were expecting him to say.

Tech seems unfazed by your apparent annoyance. He wordlessly repositions himself, grabbing both of your hips and raising them slightly, holding your body up so it’s just the sharp incline of the console and Tech’s hands keeping you in place.

He began thrusting in earnest again, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure. And, Maker, he was right. The new angle hits a spot that makes your toes curl and you lose the ability to speak almost instantly and mewl helplessly as Tech fucks into you.

You made an undignified noise as you gripped his bicep, desperate to hold onto something, feeling the pressure mount in your core. With Tech’s hands busy holding you in place as he maintains a brutal pace, you bring a hand down to your clit, still wet with spit and your own essence. You barely have to touch yourself before you feel your body screaming for release.

“’M coming,” is all the warning you are able to give him before your cunt spasms around his twitching cock as your vision whites out. Tech grunts at the sensation, unable to hold his own climax off any longer.

“Where do you want me to –,” he grates out.

“Anywhere,” you cut him off, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Just want to feel you.”

“Fuck, mesh’la, I’m going to come,” Tech groans, desperately chasing his release with harsh thrusts. His hips forcefully buck into you before his cock stiffens and he spills himself inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, slowly pumping you full of his cum, before he slumps against you. “Bid jate par me,” he mumbles into your neck, barely audible. “Gotal par me.”

You don’t know Mando’a, but whatever he is saying, the way he is saying it, sends a pleasant chill over your body.

You’re both still breathing heavily when Tech gingerly places you back down with a surprising gentleness for someone who had just been fucking you within an inch of your life. He’s in no rush to remove himself from you, but when his softened cock does slip out and his cum leaks out of you and onto the console, he helps you slide down. When your feet touch the floor, your legs wobble slightly and Tech has to grasp your forearms to steady you, softly chuckling at the state you’re in.

And when you look at him, he looks positively debauched. Sated, but debauched. You probably look worse.

In one swift motion he bends down, brings an arm down under your knees, and lifts you up. You wrap your arms around your neck while he carries you to his bunk. His cool armour against your overheated skin is a welcome sensation and you press yourself closer.

“Your research paid off,” you mumble into his chest as he sets you down on his bed.

“Please do not act so surprised by that.”

++++++++++++++++++++

You and Tech aren’t quite finished with the repairs by the time the Batch return hours later, long after the moons have risen and the bioluminescent plants surrounding the ship have begun to glow. If the squad notice you’re sitting a bit too close to Tech, your thigh pressing comfortably against his, they don’t say anything.

Neither of you were expecting to defile the Marauder all day and Tech was frantically fixing the lever on a storage hatch access panel, attempting to make up for lost time.

“Wrecker!” Echo shouts. “Clean up after yourself, for kriff’s sake.”

“Why?” Wrecker drawls, stomping towards the cockpit. “What did I do this time?”

“You’ve spilled your juice on the console again, all the keys are stuck in place.”

The access lever snaps clean off in Tech’s hands.

[a-queer-seminarian]

Do you believe that God condemns anyone to Hell, or are we all going to wind up in Heaven?

Short answer? do i believe in hell? hell no!

[id: a cross stitch of the infamous "Hell Is Real" sign in Ohio, but with the word NOT added so it reads "Hell is NOT real" / end id. I sewed this cuz i have to drive past this dang sign every time i drive home and it makes me so cranky.]

___

Long answer?

The concept of hell has become less and less probable to me over the years. it seems like such a human solution to the problem of sin, not a Divine one.

This past year as i've studied the concept of prison abolition --

see Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Davis (free pdf online)

and, for a Christian view on how fundamentally messed up the US's prison system is, see Rethinking Incarceration by Dominique DuBois Giliard. (There are short vids and study guides for the latter, if reading isn't your thing / if you'd prefer those over paying for the book.)

-- and i find that many of the arguments against human prisons could also be argued against hell, which is really just The Ultimate Prison. Hell seems much like the punitive system we've got going on here, blown up to a supernatural size.

In Rethinking Incarceration, Giliard says that dealing with systemic problems and collective sin by choosing which individuals are The Problem and proceeding to Get Rid Of Them by chucking them in prison -- or hell -- is an unjust human solution, not a Divine solution.

He relates this to the harmful theology of penal substitution -- that the reason God became incarnate in the person of Jesus was simply to take the blame for all our wrongdoing -- to be the surrogate, or substitute, for the punishment all humanity would otherwise have to receive. But, Giliard writes,

Penal substitution is most problematic because it makes God’s response to sin too much like our own. It is a sort of recasting of God in our own image, as opposed to allowing the divinely inspired Scriptures to speak for God’s motives. Marshall also writes that “restoration, not retribution, is the hallmark of God’s justice and is God’s final word in history.”

God's justice is not that punitive kind of justice, but restorative. Jesus's whole life, and death, and resurrection together brings justice into our world because through all of it, the relationship between humanity and divinity was restored -- not because Jesus took the punishment that God would have slammed down on us.

{edit: I have a second post addressing how there are indeed parts of the Bible that depict God as punishing individuals or groups. Still, punishment is never the motive of Divine justice in scripture.)

If punishment is not God's justice, and neither is severed relationship, then hell, the ultimate punishment & place of isolation, is not God's justice.

Meanwhile, we can see the bad fruits of our punitive justice systems here on earth -- what happens when we accept that society is divided into "criminals" and "good people" or "citizens." As Giliard writes:

When we lose sight of the grace and mercy exemplified on the cross of Christ, people who have violated right relationship become irredeemable “criminals” to fear, avoid, and quarantine. When “criminals” are viewed as the social cancer infecting our communal health, safety, and thriving, we cease to see and affirm their humanity. Rather than fellow image bearers, we see “criminals” as hazardous elements contaminating our neighborhoods, and they thus must be purged by any means necessary. Michelle Alexander writes, “Criminals, it turns out, are the one social group in America we have permission to hate. In ‘colorblind’ America, criminals are the new whipping boys. They are entitled to no respect and little moral concern.” ...

I see similar things happen when people pretend they can guess who is going to hell, when they divide humanity into the heavenbound and the hellbound.

(I won't go into it here but it needs to be noted: think about who is seen as prison-bound, how our system sets up certain groups, such as Black and Latine persons & other persons of color, to end up in prison; and then think of who is often seen as hellbound, such as LGBTQA+ persons & non-Christians. Bigotry is tangled up in all this, which is what Giliard's book largely focuses on when it comes to mass incarceration.)

when we assume we know someone is doomed to hell, we give up on them. we cease to see them as one of us, and one of God's beloved children made in Their image. i'd rather assume there is no hell and find out i'm wrong about that later, than live as if i thought there were a hell if there isn't.

and of course, if we assume we ourselves are headed to hell -- particularly by fearmongerers who teach that being LGBTQA+, or Black, or disabled, or not Christian, any manner of things sends you there -- well. i think the bad fruits of that are quite clear, including how it leads us to despair, to fall into the pit of self-loathing. we either punish ourselves and isolate ourselves and harm ourselves by trying to fix what is not broken, or we say "fuck it, i'm going to hell anyway" and cut ourselves off from certain community.

_______

Prison is an easy solution, but not a fruitful one. Same with Hell. It's an easy fix, but not a viable one.

Throwing certain Bad Irredeemable Humans into the pit won't make the humans who are left fit for God's Kin(g)dom -- we all have work to do on ourselves and as a collective community.

God calls us to the much longer and more difficult work of repentance, reform, and rebuilding -- here and now and in the world to come.

Again I turn to Giliard:

Scripture consistently reveals that restoration, not punitive punishment, is at the heart of God’s justice. Biblical justice does include retribution, but not exclusively. Biblical justice cannot be solely defined by it. The more accurate description of biblical justice is restorative justice. Biblically, justice is a divine act of reparation where breached relationships are renewed and victims, offenders, and communities are restored. Justice, therefore, is about relationships and our conduct within them. Justice asks, How is righteousness embodied and exuded in how I live in relation to God, neighbor, and creation? In fact, Scripture could be read as the narrative of God’s restorative justice unfolding in the world.

No prisons. No hell. No punishment for punishment's sake -- but resources provided to make repentance and reconciliation possible. No severing of some humans from the rest of humanity, or from the Body of Christ -- but restored relationships.

_____

Will the restoration happen before heaven begins? Maybe. Then I'd say there is some sort of purgatory state in between (because purgatory isn't a place of punishment, but of, well, purging away all that is corrupt and harmful). But not a permanent hell. Not a place made for punishing or discarding.

______

because the belief and fear of hell has done so much damage, i refuse to hold to a belief in hell. and hey, if it turns out there is one, fine! it doesn't change how i should live my life:

in the end, whether hell is or is not real, i should live my life the same way -- loving God, neighbor and creation with all that i am, and doing my part to live into God's Kin(g)dom where the oppressed are lifted up, and the oppressors have their own violence exposed to them for the evil it is so that they may begin the hard work of reforming their ways.

____

For more excerpts from Rethinking Incarceration, see this Google Doc.

for more stuff about hell, see my hell tag over on my other blog.

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Eleven

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Steve, Sam, Peter, OC background characters

Warnings: language, sexual implications and references, blackmail

Summary: Bucky decides it’s time to come clean to Tony, consequences be damned. Steve has his own bombshell, of sorts.

Author’s Note: Hi. I’m a lazy piece of crud. I wanted to post this earlier but I suck. It’s kinda short too, at least compared to previous parts. There will probably only be a couple parts left, maybe 2-3? I’m posting these chapters as I write so tbd in length lol. And as always, feel free to buy me a coffee!

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed @charmedbysarge @cruelsummer-s

Series Masterlist

“Are you fucking insane?”

Everyone moved back to your apartment to avoid freaking poor Matt out any more. And now there was a standoff in your living room.

“It’s the only course of action that makes sense,” Bucky said in his defense.

“Buck, her dad will skin you alive if he sees those pictures,” Sam said. “Even if he’s somehow fine with it, she’ll lose her job!”

“If we don’t do this, that kid downstairs loses his family!” Bucky shouted back.

Sam groaned in exasperation and ran his hands over his face. “There’s gotta be a way to get the money.”

“There’s not,” you said defeatedly. All eyes turn to you. They initially looked to you for guidance, but your reliance on Bucky gave him the wheel on your own personal highway to hell. “Even if we do give this person the money, there’s only one person we can get that kind of cash from. Bucky’s right. We have to tell my dad.”

“[Y/N], maybe we should brainstorm some other options,” Peter nearly whispered, keeping his voice soft in the midst of the chaos. “I don’t want you to lose your job.”

“I’ll quit,” Bucky said suddenly. “I’ll quit being an Avenger and just do, fuck, private security? Or something.”

You could see the stress and fear and frustration written on his face. In a couple steps, you were standing in front of him and were able to cup his scruffy cheeks as you spoke.

“We’ll figure all that out later.” You perked up on your toes and gave him a short kiss. “But right now, we’re on a bit of a time crunch. I’d like to end this sooner rather than later so… let’s tell Tony.”

With Peter willingly sitting in the open trunk area of the Jeep, everyone was able to fit in one car back to the Tower. The tension inside the vehicle could’ve been cut, sliced, and diced with a knife. No one wanted to say anything, but no one really knew what to say anyway.

Steve was still silent. He didn’t say a word when you discussed telling Tony, but you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He had something to say, he just wasn’t saying it.

By the time you got to the Tower, you felt like you were gonna throw up. You held the envelope with the letter and media tight in your grasp, only letting go to open your door. The second your feet touched the garage floor, Bucky was right beside you.

He kept a firm grip on your hand, squeezing a little extra so you knew he was there with you and wasn’t going to let anything bad (worse) happen. Knowing he was willing to risk his entire livelihood for you made you love him even more. But you knew if it came down to it, you’d give up your position with the Avengers. Even with only two years spent at Stark Industries — just under a year spent with the Avengers (and nearly a year with Bucky) — you’d have no problem getting a new job with any other company. Bucky’s skills were put to the best use saving the world.

As the elevator approached the floor with your dad’s office, Sam finally broke the silence.

“Do you want us to be in there with you? I’m thinking it might be better if it’s just you two.”

You turned to see Peter wringing his hands, subconsciously agreeing with Sam — he clearly didn’t want to be in the room when all this went down but was putting on a brave face to be a good support system. Steve still stood silent with his arms crossed over his chest. Whatever was going on in that head was still festering.

“I think you’re right,” you agreed with Sam. “We’ll come find you once he gets the news.”

Your eyes met Bucky’s and even though he was trying to remain confident for you, there was fear behind those baby blues.

“We’ll be okay,” you said just loudly enough for him to hear.

When you reached the floor you’d been dreading, Sam, Steve, and Peter all turned to go to their designated rooms, partially because it had been a while since all of them had been back, partially to stay far away from the impending outburst.

You took a deep breath and started toward Tony’s office, just to be pulled back into Bucky’s arms. He held you tight, nuzzling his face in your hair and just holding you. You gripped the back of his shirt in response and just took a moment to appreciate the hard muscles of his chest and the weight of his arms around you.

“We’re gonna be okay,” you whispered.

Bucky let out a breath and kissed the crown of your head.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

This made you pull back and look up at him.

“Lose me? Bucky, I’m not going to let this affect us. No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere. I love you too much, Bucky Bear.”

The affectionate nickname made him smile, even if it was just a little quirk of the lips.

“I love you too, Build-A-Bear.”

You let him hold you for a couple more minutes before leading him to your dad’s closed office door. When you slowly pushed the door open, you saw Tony sitting behind his desk with half a dozen holographic screens open in front of him.

“Hey pumpkin, what are you doing here?” he asked, barely taking his eyes off his work for a second.

“Um, I kind of really need to talk to you.” Despite being on close speaking terms with your dad — the kind where you felt comfortable swearing in front of him and joking with him, even sharing some of your secrets — you felt like this was crossing a line.

Of course it was. You were in bed with (his perception of) the enemy.

Tony could tell something was wrong by how timid you sounded. You were always loud and bubbly with him — a quality you definitely got from him. He swiped all of the screens closed and walked around the large desk to stand in front of you. He briefly met Bucky’s eyes as the super soldier stood close behind you.

“What’s going on?”

“You-you should probably sit down for this,” you said shakily. Tony took the seat nearest you instead of walking back behind his desk. “So… you know how I’ve been dating James for, like, 10, 11ish months now?”

“And I still haven’t met him?” Tony said with a quirked brow.

“Yeah.” You forced a chuckle. “Well, when we were going through mail this morning, I… I got this.”

You held up the envelope before sliding out the letter and handing it to your dad. His expression went from curious to furious in seconds as his eyes scanned the entire page.

“They sent pictures. Pictures taken through my apartment windows of me and James. Being… intimate.”

“James who?” your dad asked, still staring at the letter. When you didn’t reply, he looked you in the eye, his expression hard as he demanded, “[Y/N], what is James’s last name?”

You took a short breath, the most your anxiety-gripped lungs could handle, and avoided his gaze as you replied.

“Barnes.”

Tony shot up from his seat, his eyes moving from you to the man behind you. The familiar feeling of a metal hand on your lower back helped ease the anxiety coursing through you at your dad’s reaction. When Tony took a step toward Bucky, you countered with a panicked step between them, looking up at your dad and pleading.

“He didn’t know who I was.”

“Bullshit,” Tony spat. He and Bucky were glaring at each other over your head.

“He didn’t, I swear. He found out the same day everyone else did.”

The grinding of his teeth let you know he was seething. But trying to hold it together for now.

“Let me see the rest,” Tony said calmly, holding his hand out. You reluctantly dropped the photos and DVD into his open palm. Bucky didn’t want to get too affectionate, so he just rested his hand on your hip while Tony flipped through the photos.

Everything was back in order, so he went through the same sequence you did: pap photos, to apartment photos, to sex photos. You could tell when the pictures turned raunchy by the way Tony’s face contorted, tossing the photos down shortly after.

“Friday, play the disc,” he commanded. The video played against the only blank wall in the room, the audio of you and Bucky playing through the speakers.

“Dad, you really don’t need to —” you started, quickly stopped by a sharp glare from your father.

“What are you gonna do to me?”

“I’m gonna put a baby in you. I’m gonna cum inside this tight pussy until you can’t take it anymore.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tony nearly growled. “Friday, shut it off.”

“I tried to tell you,” you murmured under breath, though not loud enough for him to hear. Bucky did hear it though, evident by the way he squeezed your hip.

Tony leaned forward against his desk, hanging his head in clear frustration. You knew better than to speak up while he contained his emotions, so you stood in silence with Bucky as your dad sighed heavily and spoke to himself under his breath.

“You just have something against me, don’t you?” Tony said accusingly to Bucky.

“Don’t do that,” you scoffed. “You don’t get to do that. If you’re going to get mad at anyone, it needs to be me.” You never got snappy with your dad, but everything weighing on your shoulders frayed your nerves and his attitude didn’t do anything to fix it. “I’m the one who knew full well what we were doing. I’m the one who had all the details. I’m the one who chose to risk everything for this from the start. So if you’re really that mad, take it out on me. Otherwise, help us. We’ll get to the semantics and firing and all that bullshit later. Right now, there are literal lives on the line.”

Tony was still fuming until he heard the last line.

“What do you means ‘lives on the line’?”

Bringing Steve, Sam, and Peter in helped all of you explain what happened, from the note you received to the first viewing of the photos and video to the confrontation with Matt, but not without Tony grilling all of them about when and how they found out about you and Bucky. Peter looked nervous about keeping a secret from his boss, but you knew your dad wouldn’t do anything too bad to the kid. Maybe kick him off a couple missions, but nothing noteworthy. Steve and Sam looked like they really couldn’t care less, especially since Sam was the last to know.

Despite still wanting to rip Bucky’s arm off and beat him with it, Tony remained civil for your sake, at least until all of this was sorted.

The first step was getting Peter, Happy, and Pepper to try to track down where the letters came from, which likely meant scanning for fingerprints (despite how many hands held it that day alone). The second step was for you, Bucky, Tony, Sam, and Steve to scope out your building and any neighboring buildings someone may have been scoping your apartment from. There was no one someone could’ve been dangling outside your windows without you noticing. The third step was meeting with your doorman again to try to piece together some answers.

You all agreed to keep local law enforcement out of it so the culprit didn’t catch on as quickly. Having a few Avengers and Tony Stark show up at Tony’s daughter’s apartment wasn’t out of the ordinary so you could still stay under wraps. There was no reason to draw attention to your place and possibly trigger the mystery person into accelerating their plans.

With your dad’s confidence in the plan, you gradually grew more and more optimistic about the plan. If all else failed, Tony would get the two million and continue tracking the fucker down. It wouldn’t be hard to sneak a tracker into the cash and watch where it goes once it’s out of your hands. That’s when you could bring in local law enforcement.

It felt like things were finally going your way.

As you and your crew headed downstairs to drive back to your place, Steve grabbed your arm and tugged you to the side.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked quietly.

You nodded and followed him down the hall; Bucky was busy talking to Sam and Tony was on the phone briefing Rhodey so he could stand guard outside your doorman’s place for a while, giving you the perfect opportunity to step away for a minute. When Steve pulled you into a side room, you finally spoke up.

“What’s up? Is everything okay?”

Steve crossed his arms and huffed. That signature frown of his softened when he met your concerned gaze.

“I know we’re not necessarily close, but I consider you a friend. You know that, right?”

“I consider you a friend too,” you said with a nod.

“What I’m about to say... I need you to keep it between us. Don’t tell Bucky or Sam or Peter or your dad. Just between us, at least for now. Okay?”

“O-okay...? You’re making me nervous, Steve,” you admitted. “What’s going on?”

“I think I know who’s blackmailing you.”

[starlightrows]

Head Over Heels

Part I—

Next →

Pairing: Wrecker x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Mentions of sex, this chapter is pretty much nothing but fluff

Summary: A feisty little mechanical engineer and a massive clone trooper

The last few months have been rocky to say the least, with the way the war is progressing you have to take on more and more work to pick up the slack left behind from fallen troopers, and enlisted men and women alike. Which means you were suddenly promoted up to senior mechanical engineer on this base, leaving you with five permanent squadrons operating out of this base to look after, as well as any pit stops made by any of the other six hundred some odd battalions in the GAR.

You never thought you would be in a position of command, in any form, being the senior mechanical engineer made you the second most senior person in charge of this base. Base Commander, it sounded stranger with your name in front of it. You always thought you’d be glossed over for a position like this, given your overly enthusiastic and rather sunny disposition. A stark contrast from the clone commanders, and high authority military men that were now your peers. But then again, no one knew GAR technology and space craft mechanics like you did.

Your newest permanent squadron stationed at your base was an odd combination of men, who clashed deeply not only with themselves but also with everyone else around them. Clone Force 99, or The Bad Batch as they had dubbed themselves. You didn’t find them to be all that bad.

Hunter was a bit intimidating at first, any man with half of his face tattooed with a skull could be considered intimidating. But he wasn’t all that bad, he was respectful and tried his best to keep his ragtag squad on their best behavior.

Tech wasn’t so bad either, though he did have a nasty habit of trying to get you to slip up in your technical knowledge and execution. He may be genetically engineered to be smart, but that doesn’t mean he knows everything. And besides he hasn’t succeeded yet in getting you to make a mistake.

Crosshair… okay, there is something to be said for him. He could be horrible sometimes with the things he said and the way he treated people. Even the other members of his own squad.

But the last member, Wrecker. He was something else entirely. Loud, boisterous, funny, incredibly sweet and kind when he wasn’t actively trying to blow something up. You figured since they seemed intent on break every rule they encountered anyway, being in a relationship with Wrecker was worth the risk of getting in trouble with higher command.

It started out fairly innocent, he just liked being around you. Watching you fix various parts of the ship, listening to you talk about whatever it was you’re doing… even if it all went over his head. He just liked to hear your voice and see you get excited over things. As time went on, he liked sitting with you while you ate when taking breaks from your work. Holding your hand and marveling at how itty bitty it was compared to his massive one. Everything about you was smaller and softer than him. But your spirit, your passion, and your smile were larger than life.

He couldn’t seem to get enough of your small, soft hands. Any chance he got he’d pull you away from whatever you were doing to come down to your height and steal a kiss, or snatch you up to come to his height to cuddle you close. When he was sure you really wouldn’t be caught, he’d sneak off with you to explore more of your soft skin. Long nights spent in your private quarters on the base, exploring each other’s bodies and giggling through the effort of trying to keep quite. Being with Wrecker meant being patient. Waiting for the right moment to sneak away, waiting for him to come back from mission, and patient in your love making. Taking a man his size is a challenge for you, but patience pays off, every single time.

Every time they left for an assignment you triple checked their ship, The Havoc Marauder, to make sure it was up to whatever perils they were about to put it through. Usually Tech would hover around, inspecting every little thing you touch. Eventually you’d call out your preflight check complete, and Tech would have to resign himself to accepting your clearance. Crosshair would largely ignore you, or more often find something rude and unpleasant to say. Hunter would usher him on, and remind you of their designated return date. Wrecker always lingered, waiting until his brothers were safely on the ship and not gawking so he could bend down and scoop you up for a hug.

“Bye Tiny,” he’d always say, giving you a squeeze.

“Bye big guy, I’ll see you soon,” you always give him a kiss on the cheek before he sets you down gently and steals a quick kiss on your lips.

They’d usually be gone for a couple days, sometimes a week or two. If they had to stop off at another base, Hunter would usually contact you to be aware of a new return date. You hate getting those calls, not like you don’t have enough to keep you busy when they’re not around. But still, when you’re in a new relationship, the only thing you really want to do is be around them. You missed your loud, energetic mountain of a man.

This time, Hunter had commed you not once, not twice, but three times to push back their estimated return date. Apparently they’d been roped into helping a couple other squads in nearby systems.

“It’s good for our image,” Hunter had said “we don’t exactly have the greatest reputation in the GAR”

“Yes, and I wonder how that came to be?” you laughed knowing Hunter would understand your meaning. Their squad truly wasn’t so horrible, but between Wrecker’s collateral damage and Crosshair’s incessant need to antagonize literally every other member of the GAR, it’s not hard to see why others have such a dim view of them.

“Oh you know, people are just hard to please.” he joked

“Well… stay safe. Don’t break too much on that ship you’re so attached to,” you said, Hunter paused for a moment.

“You wanna talk to him?” he asked, you could hear the grin in his voice.

“Can I?” you asked hopefully

“He’s not provoking Crosshair when he’s talking to you, take as long as you’d like” he said “try not to get him too riled up though, not a lot of privacy on the ship,”

You laughed a bit “No promises Sarge,”

Hunter shook his head and left the cockpit, leaving the com channel open, you could hear him walking away. Heavy footsteps rapidly approach the comlink receiver, even though you can’t see him with the holovid feature turned off you know he’s got a big grin on his face. The door to the cockpit slides shut, and there’s a soft sound of him sinking into the pilots seat.

“Hi Tiny,” he said excitedly.

“Hello handsome, causing trouble?” you asked with a giggle

“Me? Trouble? Nah, I’m a model soldier. Poster child for the Grand Army of the Republic,” he replied.

You spent nearly two hours that night talking to Wrecker over the comlink. About the mission, about how things were going on the base, about plans for when he got back, plans for the future, and nothing at all. Eventually, your eyes were beginning to droop and your responses interspersed with muffled yawns.

“Think it’s time for you to go to bed Tiny,” he laughed

“Hmmm…. you’re probably right. Can’t keep my eyes open,” you mumbled “guess that means it’s time to say goodbye,”

“Goodnight Tiny, see you soon,” he said

“Goodnight Big Guy…. love you,” you realized in your sleepy mind, that was the first time you’d said that to him. Maybe this wasn’t the right time, but you’d been thinking it over and over the last few weeks it just slipped out.

“I love you too baby,” he replied before switching off the comlink.

Wrecker sat back in the silence for a moment, letting the gravity of what you’d just said wash over him.

She loves me! He thought to himself She loves ME!

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