#i with i could combine that helm and eye piece

[zhakyria]

I needed a break from farming remnant sets so did some more work on outfit references for Kahl. I’m calling this his Underworld/Pirate outfit. I think I’ll use the Aratech Advanced Blaster with this once I unlock it.

[brainrotcharacters]

HIII! could you please write a nami x f reader?

maybe just them being domestic? like the side of nami most don't get to see, r always has

they've been together for a couple of years now

things like cuddling (facing each other), night routines, etc

r is shorter than nami too, top of head just barely (if even) reaching her chin (this is needed info for any hugs🤭)

pls and thank you! :) <<<333

ship: Nami x fem!reader

summary: A day in the life aboard the Going Merry, as Nami's girlfriend from home.

a/n: requested by @fairy-geek-ackerman

tags: reader is shorter than Nami, established relationship, cuddling, events occur after one piece live action season 1, events occur in the span of a day, I now headcanon Nami as gift giving love language, reader is physical touch love language, we vibe with Sanji because Sanji vibes with us, Zoro cameo

*

"There you are." You yawn, ascending the stairs to the stern of the boat. Nami smiled at the sound of your voice, one hand idle on the helm as she examined her maps.

"I'm not going anywhere, you know." The early morning sunlight was soft against her features as she peered up at you. The wind blew stronger for a moment, and her free hand shot out to pin the map page on the nearby desk.

You lift one of your daggers― decorative, inlaid with polished stone, and heavy enough to act as paperweight. You place it on the upper left corner of the largest of the maps. "I know. Luffy would get you back."

Nami chuckled. After Luffy and the rest of Nami's boys had freed Coco Village from Arlong's crew, they learned about the girlfriend that Nami left at home. It didn't take much for them to convince their navigator (Nami wanted for you to come with them anyway) to invite you onboard.

"Oh, wow." She stepped back, watching you pluck up all sorts of things from your pockets to help pin the maps in place. Aside from the dagger, she also recognized a bracelet with a real citrine stone, and a glass vial of dried blue paint courtesy of Nojiko. "You never threw anything away, did you?"

"You said you liked giving me gifts," you lean back against the desk, protecting the rest of the maps from the wind. "So I'll keep every gift you give me."

Her eyes softened, a combination of fondness and understanding as she studied you. "You're very... you."

Your lips curl up in a small smile. "I love you too."

Nami reached out a hand, and you stepped into her arms, the top of your head barely reaching her chin. Her grip around your waist was more affectionate and confident than before. You lift your chin, nuzzling into her neck.

The scent of tangerines clung to Nami's skin. She must have checked on the garden earlier. You breathe in the scent of home, the scent of her, and your own arms wrap around her body a bit tighter.

After what felt like an eternity but was only actually a minute, an elegant male voice interrupted the peaceful creaking of the ship's hull. "Isn't that adorable? I've never seen you be so affectionate before."

Sanji was smiling up at you both from the foot of the stairs, bearing a tray in one hand. Two steaming cups sat on the tray. "Good morning to you two lovely ladies. Made you your coffee, as requested. For Nami, two milks, one sugar; for Y/n, two milks, two sugar."

He reached halfway up the stairs before you happily accepted the tray from him. "Much appreciated, Sanji. Thank you."

"Of course," he tilted his head in a graceful nod. "Breakfast will be ready in an hour. I suggest you get there ten minutes before Luffy does."

Nami returned to the helm, smiling as she reached for her cup of coffee. "We'll be there. How'd you know what coffee I liked?"

Sanji motioned towards you, and you offered your girlfriend a sheepish, shameless smile. Nami smiled over the lip of her cup, rolling her eyes.

*

Even with your nose buried in the novel you were reading, you can feel Zoro's attention on you and Nami.

Both of you were sitting on the stairs at the ship's bow, Nami seated behind you so she could braid your hair close to your head. Her legs are braced on either side of your body, and from the way you felt them stiffen, you could tell she had a thin tolerance for Zoro's glancing. "What?"

He didn't need to be addressed, but still reacted. "Nothing."

You sucked on the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing. You can feel Nami's frustration make her fingers heavier. Three... Two... One... "Since when do you know how to braid?"

You couldn't help but snicker, patting Nami's knee at your side. She understood your cue, and let you explain. "My dad taught us. Nojiko and Nami often visited the house when we were kids."

Zoro studied you for a moment, then turned his attention back towards the island several miles away. "All right."

Luffy wanted to dock here because he said he smelled something delicious, which Sanji interpreted as a personal challenge. Usopp had joined them out of whimsy. Luffy asked the three of you to stay aboard and protect the ship, but you heard Nami mutter how he just didn't want her and Zoro to keep him in line. "Think they're okay?" Zoro asked.

The tallest building on the island suddenly exploded.

Zoro looked surprised for all of two seconds before he groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. Nami's fingers froze in the middle of another braid in your hair. "Seriously...?"

You offer her a hair tie, giggling. "Just tie it where you stopped, and let's go."

*

That evening, when everyone had settled in to sleep, you and Nami laid together in bed. Your arms were snugly wrapped around her bare back, skin flush against your own. You returned to your natural position, lifting your chin to nuzzle her neck as she slowly untangles the braids in your hair.

Along with the creaking of the Merry and the sound of the ocean waves, Nami's breathing was incredibly soothing to hear. "So. You survived another day with these idiots. What now?"

You let out a quiet chuckle as you fell further into sleep. "You won't get rid of me so easily, Nami."

Her chest rose and fell as she sighed. "Good."

"Mhhm." you snuggled closer against her, and Nami tangled her legs around yours.

When you were able to find a comfortable position, you started kissing the skin of her collarbones softly. Nami smiled, smoothing out your hair. "Good night, Y/n. Love you."

"I love you, Nami." You murmur into her skin.

[leviathans-watching]

could u pls write the brothers x a reader who dropped out of school/college? having a rly hard time rn and i could use the comfort, tysm <3

having a hard time in the human realm

includes: brothers x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .7k | rated t | m.list

warnings: crying, breakdowns, implied depression

a/n: i'm sorry you're having a hard time :(( i wish you all the best and lots of love and comfort. hope this helps! my inbox is open to chat, request, or leave feedback!

mammon exchanges worried looks with asmo when there’s no response when he knocks on the door to your apartment. it had been nearly three months since you’d returned to the human realm and since you’d first separated, you hadn’t missed a single weekly call. until tonight, that is.

and combine that with the fact that you weren’t responding to anyone, weren’t active on any social media, and now weren’t answering your door… mammon’s getting seriously concerned.

“let’s break in,” belphie says, and it’s a testament to how worried lucifer is that he agrees.

“i can pick locks, hold on,” asmo says, dropping to his knees and pulling a bobby pin out of his pocket. man, lucifer must be really worried if he’s not even remarking on this!

a moment passes, and then asmo pushes the door open, rising back to his feet. he leads the way into your apartment, and mammon takes in the dark interior. it’s messy and cluttered, a far cry from the neat and tidy room you’d kept at the house of lamentation, and it’s also silent.

lucifer takes the helm then, moving through your living room. mammon can see a dim kitchen with piled-up dishes, and then gets distracted by another door. presumably the door to your room.

mammon knocks on that one, then opens it. like the rest of the apartment, the room is dark, with thick curtains pulled over the window. mammon steps over the clothes all over the floor, towards your bed, which is messy with sheets and blankets piled up.

but thankfully, there’s a person there too. mammon puts a hand on your shoulder, grateful he can see the rise and fall of your chest. so, at least you’re still alive?

shaking you gently, mammon waits for you to wake. his brothers crowd the bed around him, but stay quiet.

with a gasp, you sit up, looking around wildly. “w-what?”

“it’s just us, mc,” beel says soothingly, and you calm slightly, then squint, confused.

“what are you doing here?”

“we were worried,” levi volunteers. “you weren’t answering your ddd and missed dour call.”

“oh,” you say slowly, probably still waking up. “that was today? i’m sorry, i’ve just been really…busy. and wait, you guys decided to break into my apartment?”

“busy?” says lucifer, dodging the accusation question. “with school?”

you look to the side shiftily, and mammon’s glad his eyes can see well enough in the dark where a human would struggle. “something like that.”

“cut the crap,” asmo says suddenly. “what’s going on, mc?”

without warning, tears well up in your eyes. “i’m sorry,” you say miserably, scrubbing at your eyes with your sleeve. “i’m sorry. i’m just so tired.”

mammon wraps an arm around your shoulders (were they always this fragile feeling?), and pulls you to his chest. “what’s wrong?”

“it’s just so hard!” you say after a breath. “i miss you guys so much. every day. it feels like a piece of me is missing. and as hard as it was to adjust to the devildom it’s even harder re-adjusting now. i miss the house of lamentation and being at rad and all of you. i can’t do this.”

“i had no idea you were feeling this way,” lucifer says quietly, guiltily. mammon feels the same way. how had he not noticed you were hurting?

“i stopped going to my classes,” you continue, a sob ripping free. “there’s no way i can get any credits for this semester. i want to go home.”

mammon locks eyes with his brothers. there’s no way they’re leaving you here tonight.

“let’s take you home, then,” he says, and you blink up at him.

“wait, really?”

“there’s no rule saying you can’t come back,” lucifer says. “i thought that’s what you wanted. after all, you were only supposed to be an exchange student after all. but if we had had any idea of how much this would have hurt you, diavolo and i would have never let you leave. so yes, let’s go home.”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

[gars-weaponeer]

CLONE KINKTOBER 2024 (DAY 1)

Clone Kinktober list made by @olives-and-lilies You can see the list HERE

Day count: X | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31

Prompt: Kama Kink

Paring: Echo X GN!Reader

Word count: 1,168

Tags & Warnings: NSFW, oral sex, kama kink

You can also read it on AO3:

His kisses had always been the most sweet. Gentle but passionate, the dance of your lips combines stole your breath with ease as you were backed away into the bunk.

Moments like these where you were alone and had the ship all to yourselves were very rare, so you needed to take advantage of every situation and make the most of what little time you had. 

Your back hit the bunk and the kiss was broken for a moment, Echo backing away to begin removing the pieces of his upper armor with practice ease. 

Despite his body being leaner than other clones, thanks to the horrors Echo had to endure in Skako minor, you couldn’t help but admire the way the blacks clinged to his torso. Every line and every dip, you drank it up with hunger in your eyes, mesmerized by the clone’s movements. At least until Echo’s hand reached his own belt. 

-Wait! Don’t take it off. - you called, one hand reaching for the clone’s to stop his movements. 

-W-what?- Echo for a moment seemed worried that his lover was having second thoughts about the whole ordeal, a sudden self-awareness taking over his body. However, your hands gently took his and bringing them up to your lips, kissing Echo’s knuckles gently one by one. 

-Your Kama, don’t take it off. - You repeated, looking up at Echo with such intensity, it made the ARC trooper blush. 

-Oh, so that’s what you meant…- Echo smiled back at you, the initial confusion washed away into relief and realization. You just smiled moving one hand towards Echo’s hip, caressing the belt and lower, towards the black and red material that adorned your beloved’s thighs. 

You could not exactly explain what made the Kama so attractive, maybe it was the overall silhouette it gave Echo as he walked around with his armor on. Maybe it was the prestige that such an item symbolized amongst the clones. Or Maybe it was the texture of the heavy material and the sensation it gave you as it brushed against your skin. 

-It will get dirty if I don’t take it off you know?- Echo says, but doesn’t stop your fingers from moving through the fabric, gently, slowly, as if trying to memorize every inch of the Kama. -Just a little while longer. - You insisted, looking up at your lover with fierce adoration, pulling him closer by the hips. In this position, with the trooper standing up and you kneeling on the lower bunk, Echo’s crotch was aligned with your face and already waking up with interest. 

Your deft fingers moved from Echo’s hips to the helm of his pants, slowly pulling them down as best as you could to release the clone’s dick. 

You started slowly, holding the length in delicate hands and stroking it up and down gently, aiding yourself with the droplets of pre-cum that welled up from the tip. 

Hearing Echo’s gasps and raspy breathing was enough to encourage you to keep going, lowering your lips to lick at the tip of the trooper’s dick, enjoying the taste of him.

Deliberately, you began to spread kitten licks and kisses along the length of Echo’s shaft, making sure not to leave any inch untouched. Your left hand kept stroking Echo's member while the other slowly slid up the side of his Kama, just feeling the texture of it. 

Echo had to hold himself up by leaning on the upper bunk with his mechanical arm, forehead resting on his forearm as he looked down at the vision that was his lover. It was taking every single ounce of self-control not to thrust his hips against your face, but damn it if he was not desperate to give into his urges. 

After a while, you finally decided to take Echo into your mouth, slowly but carefully sucking at the tip before sliding more of your lover inside your throat, earning him a long, deep moan. 

-K-Kriff kair’ta, you feel so good!- Echo growled through gritted teeth, using his free hand to slide his fingers through your silky hair, gently urging you to go deeper. 

Which you compiled, slowly but surely slipping more and more of Echo’s shaft until your nose touched the clone’s pubic hair.  

Echo was in complete bliss, the tight heat of your throat engulfing his cock was enough to send him to overdrive. But he wanted to be patient and wait for his lover, caressing your hair with gentle strokes of his fingers, taking deep breaths to push down his orgasm for a little while longer.

After a short while, you slowly pulled Echo’s shaft out until only the tip was left between your plump lips. Your hands searched for the hem of the trooper’s kama, enjoying the texture under your fingers as they slid slowly through the fabric. 

Then, you grabbed Echo's Kama in tight fists and pulled him close, forcing the clone's hips forward and his shaft into your throat once more in a swift motion. 

Echo let out a gasp at the sudden movement and held onto your head, moaning curses into his arm. Stars, that felt amazing! 

Understanding now what his lover was planning, Echo began to rock his hips, aiding your movements as you kept using his kama as handles to pull him roughly into your throat, effectively making Echo face-fuck you deeply. 

With each thrust, your movements became more and more rough, fast, desperate. The obscene wet sounds and the low moaning and growling from Echo filling the empty ship. 

Soon it was becoming a little too much to bear and Echo palmed at your head to try and warn you of his upcoming release. 

However, this did not deter the you in the slightest, your grip on the Kama became tighter and your movements more determined, urging Echo to cum down your throat. 

With one final harsh pull, Echo sank as deep as he could into you, roaring your name as he came with thick hot sprouts down his lover's throat. 

You swallowed eagerly, caressing the Kama with your fingers as Echo emptied himself in you. Once satiated, Echo slowly pulled out, leaving you panting, looking up at your beloved with half-lidded eyes and a devilish smile. 

-Been wanting to try that for a while.- You purred, tongue darting out to lick at your upper lip. -You can take it off now if you want, before we continue. -There was a hunger in your eyes that sent a shiver down Echo’s spine. You were far from done, not that the ARC trooper was complaining. 

Gently, he caressed your face, moving to gently grab at your chin. 

-I might leave it on a bit longer.- Echo said, voice deep and tainted with lust before gently pushing you back into bed, slowly crawling on top of your body. 

You felt a spark of excitement as the fabric of the kama began to brush against your naked skin.

This was really going to be an enjoyable night...

Welcome to my self-indulgent collection of drables for the clone Kinktober!

If you enjoyed it, please consider linking/re-blogging my work!

ᴰᶦᵛᶦᵈᵉʳ ᵇʸ stars-n-spice & Cafekitsune

[cozzzynook]

“Hummel?”

“Hm?”

“Vhat are jou eating?”

Looking down at the bowl in his hands filled with glowing purple energon with a few pieces of zinc and melted aluminum coating it.

His hummel was taking his time slowly chewing away with a content sway of yellow and black pedes as he sat on his lap. A little hum every few clicks as he chewed on the metals before popping a piece of energon to his dermas.

Blitzwing tried to hide the disgust in his eyes as he realized his Hummel had sprinkled a spicy flake into the dish. His hummel never ate anything spicy nor did he caee for sweets surprisingly. The one who liked spicy foods was Random and Hothead while he was the one who enjoyed sugary treats.

His hummel preferred savory over anything else so why exactly was eating something both himself and his other personalities would enjoy all combined into one?

A whirr sounded and Random suddenly yelled with manic laughter, “Jour food is so outlandish mein buggy bee vhat gives?!”

A chubby cheeked pout rests on Bumblebee’s faceplate and a shade of blue colors his cheeks. The bowl of fuel shifted as Bumblebee started to scoot off Blitzwings once comfortable lap. He slapped the servo that tried to stop him by cupping his protruding tank but Bumblebee was having none of it.

“Hummel?”

The change in the accents thickness told him it was Icy talking to him again but he didn’t care. His em fields were swinging with his mood and as tight as he tried to keep them Blitzwing took notice.

“I am sorry hummel, please eat jour..food resting on me, hm?”

There was a moment of thought flittering through Bumblebee’s optics before he huffed and nodded. It was easy for Blitzwing to lift Bumblebee back in his lap, his hummel may have gained quite a bit of weight from carrying but he was still no closer to being Blitzwings frame or size.

Putting a servo beneath Bumblebee’s plump mesh tank Blitzwing rubbed his hummels side when he felt the little mech in his arms shift uncomfortably. The warmth his hummel radiated as he melted into him tugged at his dermas slightly and if he splayed his other servo on the left side of his bugs tank to try and feel their sparkling move he wouldn’t deny it.

“You know its still too early for you to feel them move. I can feel them turning, I think, because i’m carrying them you still have another month or two,” Bumblebee sighed as he leaned into Blitzwing’s warm touch. His war framed mech began to gently rub the soreness away on his left side and hip plating and all his attention began to drift away from his fuel and annoyance to comfort as he felt his frame grow sleepy.

“I know that but I still want to feel jou, jou feel incredibly soft and jou look beautiful like this. I can’t help myself,” Blitzwing uttered his admission lowering his helm to kiss the tip of Bumblebee’s horn. “I can’t get enough of seeing jou carry our sparkling, jou’ve never looked more beautiful hummelchen.”

“If you weren’t my conjunx I’d slap you,” Bumblebee moaned as he felt Blitzwing’s servo rub the sensitive plating above his tank. There was a noticeable dent that he’d yet to have fixed, their little sparkling war frame just loved to kick now that they’ve developed stabilizers and every early morning Bumblebee felt the joys and brunt of it.

“Jou vouldn’t hit me hummel, it vould be unwise to hurt the bot massaging all jour pains away,” in the past Blitzwing would’ve said little but with his hummel’s proneness to emotional swings, he wasn’t about to chance it. Besides, he was plenty content to touch along his sparkmates growing mesh to his sparks content. He couldn’t get enough of feeling their sparkling press tiny servo’s that would one day be large as his against his own.

Blitzwing was already in the process of making plans on how to convince his hummel to have more sparklings in the future. He was sure he could win him over, so long as their sparklings emergence wasn’t too long and painful.

“Get that thought out of your processor right now, I am not doing this again,” Bumblebee grumbled swatting at his sparkbond lazily. He shifted his hip plates again and Blitzwing let him, moving to rub his digit along the tender plating while bringing his other servo to cup the underside of his tank. That brought a long sigh from his vents as he felt his sparkling lean into their sire’s palm giving momentary relief on his back strut.

His optics felt heavy and his frame grew warm as it completely sagged against Blitzwing’s chassis. Bumblebee could feel the familiar thrum of that purple and blue spark against his helm and horns. He couldn’t help but loosen his grip on his fuel bowl as he entered a light doze between recharge and floating in aware bliss.

He didn’t hear anything break nor fall to the ground so he assumed Blitzwing caught it with his servo, the quiet clatter of the dish being set down told Bee he was right and the warm servo once again cradling his tank had him turn putty as a limp frame doll.

While he couldn’t see the loving gaze his sparkbond rested on him, he and their sparkling could feel it.

It was enough to make him possibly consider experiencing this again, possibly.

But Blitzwing didn’t have to know that just yet.

-

Tell me what you think, I hope you all enjoy 🥰 i’m working on beewavewave & a miroah post too ^•^

[robots-n-sweet-tea]

Nice Mechs

A little Rumble and Frenzy never hurt anyone.

And to think this all started with Virus being separated from her fellow memory banks…while in her current heat cycle. A bad combination, especially when you run into two Decepticons.

“‘Ey, Rumble, don’tcha think you’ve had her for long enough?”

“Nah. Besides, look how much she’s enjoyin’ takin’ my spike like this.” The comment caused Frenzy to growl in annoyance. His sight never left the scene in front of him; Virus taking all of Rumble’s spike like the good little mech she was.

“...Say, let’s have a lil contest of sorts.” Rumble slowed down a bit, looking over curiously.

“What kinda contest?”

“Let’s see who can make her overload the most, that way–”

“Hey, don’t I…don’t I get a say in this?” Virus interrupted their conversation through little whines and moans. Rumble, in response, used his servos to grab onto Virus’ neck cables, choking her a bit back into being quiet.

“Shut up. You’re so much nicer to frag when you’re not talking,” he growled, prompting her to nod quickly.

“As I was sayin’, whoever can make her overload the most times will win. And the loser has to do whatever the winner says for a whole cycle,” Frenzy continued, quickly pulling Rumble off and out of the mech beneath him.

“Oh, now you’re on!” Rumble growled, now partially upset about not being able to overload himself.

“We start now. And no holding back.” And with that, he pushed all of his spike into Virus’ valve, using a couple of servos to tweak her node teasingly. This, in turn, caused the Memory Bank to let out a loud whine; her frame shook in pleasure. He let out a low chuckle mixed with a moan. “Oh, you definitely liked that, didn’tcha?”

“I– When Hacker and Firmware find me–!”

“Shh, you’ll ruin the moment, babes…” Frenzy shushed her a bit, now starting to pump his hips at an absolutely slow pace. It was as if he was teasing her, trying to edge her and deny her the overload she was searching for. Or maybe he was just being an aft and doing this to torture Rumble. But this, in turn, led to Virus practically begging him to go faster. “Shh, shh…you’ll get your reward eventually.”

“And just when is that going to be?” Rumble interjected, “‘cause you’ve been hogging her for a while now!”

Frenzy turned his helm to give him a small glare, “Be glad I’m even thinking about giving you a turn when I’m done with her.”

“Whatever!” And so he leaned against the cave wall with a small huff. Why they were in a cave, no one will ever know. But the more Rumble watched them, the more jealous he became. How come Frenzy of all mechs got to frag around with her first? After all, Rumble was obviously the better of the two of them. Nonetheless, he watched in pure annoyance as Virus wasn’t given the overload she needed from how slow this piece of scrap was going. “Ya know you’re just toying with her at this point,” he pointed out.

“I know. I just like hearing Autobots beg, isn’t that right, Virus?” All she responded with was more begging.

“Frenzy, please! Frag me senseless already!”

“Hm…tell ya what: you manage to overload and I’ll give ya what ya want. Deal? Make yourself overload on my spike.” And with that, he stopped moving altogether, enticing a whine, before pulling out and switching their positions. So now he sat on the rock with the Autobot on his lap. “Or you could alternatively make yourself overload by yourself–”

“No, I…I got this,” she growled a bit at him, taking his spike back into her valve with a low hum. His servos quickly grabbed onto her hips, watching as her own servos pushed him back a bit, helping her move in all the right motions. This time, he was the one moaning. “Oh, do you like that, Frenzy?” she teased, using his own words.

“Primus, yes, keep it up, just like that…” And that’s exactly what she did. Although, unlike Frenzy, she sped up every so often until they both could feel themselves getting close to an overload. Virus was the first to overload, shaking with a loud moan…until she was quickly pulled off of him, denying him his own overload.  “Hey, what gives?!”

“You made her overload, so now it’s my turn!”

“You didn’t even let me overload first!”

“Too bad.” Rumble gave him a wicked grin before turning his focus back to the mech in front of him, pushing her against the wall. One set of servos kept her pinned in place via the hold he had on her neck cables, while the other set got to work fingering her leaking valve. Virus didn’t bother fighting back; the pleasure was too much, but oh did it feel so, so good. “Virus, do me a favor and get yourself off,” he commanded. She nodded curtly, guiding her own servos down to her spike. Primus, it was going to be so easy to get her to overload twice in a row this time. Behind his visor, Rumble watched as Virus pleasured herself to the full extent, one set of servos pumping up and down the spike while the other played with her node. “You’ve been practicing just for me, huh?”

“Oh sure, whatever you say.” You couldn’t see it because of her smiley-face mask, but she definitely rolled her optics at that comment.

“What, do you go into your heat cycle that often?” This time, Rumble received no answer to the tease. He also noticed that she had stopped playing with herself for a moment. This caused him to stop his activities as well. “What? Was that a turn-off question?”

“No, no, it’s just…how did you know?”

“I…I didn’t?” Now she had both of their attention. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well…I mean, it’s kinda embarrassing, and I’m not sure how it started, but I go into my heat cycle more often than most mechs,” she admitted quietly, “and you two are the first to know about it, so…” The two looked at each other then back to her curiously. “And no, I have not gone to a medic about it.”

“I mean, if it’s becoming a problem…”

“I usually just sleep it off.”

“...Do you want to see a medic about it?” Frenzy spoke up.

“I mean, sure, I guess. It wouldn’t hurt anything,” she shrugged.

“Don’t worry, we'll get you taken care of. We have the best medic around.”

[the-golden-comet]

✨Find The Word Tag✨

Thank you so very much for tagging me, @fortunatetragedy and @gioiaalbanoart ! I’ll combine your words for the Peter Hart word hunt! ✨

OUR words: corybantic, petrichor, gold, sky, Bride, fork, coin, snack

For Peter Hart:

corybantic and petrichor: 0. Nice words, by the way! ✨

gold (x6) (could you tell it’s my favorite color? ✨)

A chipper crew aboard The renovated Golden Phoenix vessel laughed and sang as they manned the rigs and hoisted the black, golden-trimmed sails. The deckhands swabbed and sang, clicking their mops down to a rhythmic, upbeat shanty. Victor polished a cannon with a rag as he whistled to the tune, scrubbing the grime and mold from the mortar as his sleeves blackened with soot. At the helm, a 26-year old Captain Peter Hart; His hair, still golden like the sun above and the insignia on the sails that carried the crew, shimmered underneath his inherited black tricorn.

His haircut was short, resting just below the ears as a few strands swept across his forehead in flat bangs. Peter’s jaw, chiseled and refined with his coming of age, was only gently stubbled. He was wearing his father’s old trenchcoat, which fit perfectly over his broad shoulders, black and buttoned down in gold trim. A white, lightweight shirt rested beneath the heavy coat, soaked and stained in seawater, with a splash of blood from his past fallen foes. The black-leathered boots, scuffed and scum-laiden, fit snugly to the knees as his white and heavily-stained cotton pant legs tucked in the straps.

The captain’s fingers tapped on the spokes of his wheel as he hummed in tune with his hearty crewmates, the hands covered in tanned-hide gloves that tied at the elbows, resting under the arms of the coat and stopping at the rolled-up shirt sleeves. He tapped his foot as he tilted the wheel clockwise, the golden rings adorning his exposed fingers clanking against the steel supports of the axle and glinting to match the buckle on his brown leather belt. Once a cabin boy, now a fine young captain, this was the tale of Peter Hart, the Golden.

sky

The captain yawned up at the speckled sky. “You think the bounty’s gonna be greater than ten-thousand?”

“Easily, m’boy.” Davey rolled his eyes equal to his shoulders. “At least a hundred thousand on your head.”

Wonder what that brings my total up to now~?” Peter chuckled.

“I can’t even count that high, laddie.” Davey shook his head slowly in disappointment.

bride (x2)

“But you have to marry SOMEONE soon, Benjamin!!” Matthias huffed in indignance. “You are my only son, and therefore the only one who can produce an heir. I’ll be damned if I let another year go on without so much as a bride.”

“Father, please— ” Benjamin sighed roughly, yet was cut off again by his father’s raging temper.

“—ENOUGH. Benjamin Bartholomew, you will pick out a bride tonight, or I will choose for you.”

Fork (x2)

Benjamin stared down at his plate, as pale as the ivory itself. He couldn’t even touch the food, let alone stomach it. His heart had been beating hard all morning, and the thought of eating anything would make the food violently come back up. Peter, on the other hand, nearly finished his portion as he pointed a silver fork at the forlorn prince.

“Eat it, before it gets cold.” He spoke in between mouthfuls. “I got the silver out for you and everything.”

“I-I’m not hungry….” Benjamin muttered.

Peter caught the lie. “I heard your stomach growling.”

The prince corrected himself. “I c-can’t stomach anything right n-now….”

“Ahhh….” The captain finished his meal, wiped his lips on a napkin, then leaned back in his chair. “….well, you need to eat. I’m not having you faint on my floor.”

Benjamin gulped hard, grabbing a fork as it shook in his grasp. He successfully managed to shear off a piece of fish meat, bringing it to his mouth as he carefully felt around the flesh for bones. Satisfied, Peter resumed: “So, Benji. Heard you were going to get married…”

coin (x5)

“Is that what it’s all about to you?!” Benji yanked away from Alexander’s grasp. “The worthless coin?!”

“WORTHLESS COIN?! ” Alex chided. “That coin could build an empire tenfold. THAT COIN could fix a falling nation. That coin….” He took in a shaky, fire-fueled inhale. “….is worth far more than your stupid, fucking heart.”

Benjamin’s body was tense as Prince Alexander tried to apprehend him again. “Get your hands OFF of me!!”

snack (only one. Nice. ✨)

The First Mate scoffed. “Aye, but how are we going to sneak our boats back to her without becoming Kraken snacks?!”

I’ll tag (no pressure): @wyked-ao3 , @sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @autism-purgatory , @alinacapellabooks , +open tag! ✨

[whitedragoncoranth]

Kirathian Dragon Ieesha

KiraTech Industries

~Come on and close your eyes // Imagine me by your side // She's got similar features // But paler hide // So if that's what it takes // To get you through // Go on and close your eyes // It shouldn't bother you!~ Ieesha sang as she worked. Before her on her workbench was her Avionics Helm, broken down into pieces as she worked on it, carefully lowering into place the latest carefully designed OLED screens which would project the HUD onto her field of view when she wore it. Now, I know what you're thinking: How can a huge dragoness the size of an A380 Airbus work on delicate things like that?! The answer: the psionic power of Telekinesis, which Ieesha - and all Kirata Dovah, the Kirathian Dragons - had in spades! With the OLEDs installed and connected, Ieesha briefly tested everything with the bench power supply and then - seeing that everything worked as expected - she put the Helm back together, its pieces snapping, bolting and screwing back into place in a fascinating and otherworldly dance.

Gently setting the helm aside, my beloved dragoness stood and stretched; then, she looked up at her latest harness iteration, the metallic exoskeletal construct hanging from the ceiling of the room via HUGE chains that had once been used to moor great battleships. Bristling with aeronautical instruments and sensors for gathering all kinds of atmospheric, weather, and diagnostic data, the harness was also equipped with dozens of holders for bags, pouches, and panniers. It was an incredible tool for carrying whatever we might need no matter where in the world we were, or the job we were doing. Search and Rescue, Cargo Hauling, Mail Delivery, Construction work, even the careful transport of patients to hospitals if needed... that harness could carry it all! Ieesha stood, looking up at the harness for a time, wondering what else she might add to it, or redesign, what ways she could use to make it more effici--

"Working hard, or hardly working?" I said teasingly as I closed the side panel of a PC on my own bench, having installed a new Graphics Card for a client. Finshing my work, I boxed the PC up then placed it outside the laboratory door; a KTI agent would pick it up later to be sent to where it needed to go. No sooner had I finished up, however, then Ieesha was there, nuzzling my face, trilling softly, purring. ~Shush, you!~ she grumbled good-naturedly, then nudged me gently, touched noses with me, and I kissed her snout. "New helm eyes in?" I asked. Her happiness singing through our bond, my beloved dragoness nodded. Stepping out of the laboratory, she guided me over to the fleece pile; then I was on it, and she was curled about me, a wing over my body as I rested with her there. ~Yep,~ she answered. ~Those new OLEDs are amazing, designed and manufactured exactly to spec; I'll run them through their paces first, then later every KTI Helm is getting upgraded.~

For some reason or another... Ieesha had become fixated on the Marvel Hero Iron Man; but she had focused on all his good qualities, without the bad. She'd seen his labs in all of the films, gotten super excited about it all; then a few years later she was founder and CEO of her own Company, KiraTech Industries, with scientists, researchers, staff, and a premium laboratory of her own. She had become the Tony Stark of Kirathian Dragons! KTI was like the UAC and Stark Industries combined--always at the forefront, the sheer bleeding edge, unafraid to experiment with mind-blowing technologies that bordered on the magical--yet guided firmly with her gentle morals and ethics. KTI not only designed long lasting human technologies - better ways of growing food in more places, better harvesters, ways to better extract filter, and purify water for those places needing it, medical devices and prosthetics for humans - but also designed assistance aids and prosthetics for dragons as well.

The mainstay was, of course, the KTI Avionics Package consisting of a top-of-the-line rugged, mil-spec saddle-harness and avionics helm; that a Kirathian Dragon could comfortably carry not only their rider, but also tonnes of cargo, medical supplies, mail -- whatever -- without issue, whilst having access to all of the same data that human aircrafts could get; a necessity when flying through human-controlled airspace. Still, Ieesha desired more, thus, KTI was looking into ways to vastly extend human life, ways to try and solve or mitigate the problem of the "Mal'Dovah", the low-born animalistic dragon whelplings that sometimes resulted from an Omari Kirata mating. She was looking at it from a genetic, scientific viewpoint -- but I, too, was looking into it from a "nature vs nurture" view; were the Mal'Dovah "automatically" sadistic and cruel from birth or did this come about from parental rejection and denied access to the eternal Dovah Sil? Currently, we didn't know -- but we would find out, thanks to a number of Omari Kirata who'd had enough of the old traditions, who had keened and tearfully refused to reject, give up on, and euthanize their 'simple' feral hatchlings; rather, they would love, cherish, and try to educate them like any high born Kirathian!

[matrose]

What sort of mark do you think Gimli left in Aman (besides the one on Legolas ofc)?

what a cute ask...thank you!! 🏔💙

ive been thinking on this for a bit and its so hard to say, theres so much information we lack! let me collect my thoughts on the information that we do have real quick ❤️💐‼️❣️

1) the matter of age and natural death, of the time he had left: gimli sailed when he was 262 years old, nine years older already than his father gloin who died of persumably natural causes at age 253. gimlis cousin dwalin on the other hand lived until he was 340, much older. this, combined with the healing properties the undying lands are said to have, makes me personally, generously think that gimli had perhaps another 100 years left in aman ❤️

2) the matter of gimlis abilities and his craft, of what he was most profficient in: gimli of course knows the basics of stonework and smithcraft, knows how to listen to his surroundings and knows very well how to swing his axe (aragorn says, during the battle of helms deep, that he has never seen „an axe so wielded“ as gimli does). im very sure that there are many dwarven-made jewelry pieces in aman, though they mostly belong to just one elf. but one of gimlis greatests gifts is his speech! this is pointed out once by galadriel and twice by legolas:

It is said that the skill of the Dwarves is in their hands rather than in their tongues,’ she said; ‘yet that is not true of Gimli. For none have ever made to me a request so bold and yet so courteous.’

‘You move me, Gimli,’ said Legolas. ‘I have never heard you speak like this before. Almost you make me regret that I have not seen these caves.’

Then Legolas repaid his promise to Gimli and went with him to the Glittering Caves; and when they returned he was silent, and would say only that Gimli alone could find fit words to speak of them. ‘And never before has a Dwarf claimed a victory over an Elf in a contest of words,’ said he.

furthermore his voice is refered to as strong multiple times and he is most definitely not a bad singer! so weve got the power of speech and voice, he's a wordsmith - my first thought when i read your question, before i started typing anything, was him leaving behind a book… one of poetry, maybe. or one that recounts the history of dwarves. though i think this would not be commonly read in aman as he would simply not want it to, so really this would just be for legolas and another mark left behind for him. afterall, most of what elves know of dwarven history does not come from a book but rather from the mouth of legolas! furthermore, the written word never was all that important to dwarves (they only started using it to communicate with men and elves) and it is rather oral tradition that is important for them.

the thought im writing this in mind with is that, perhaps a thousand years after gimli has physically left aman, many halls still echo songs that sound rather dwarvish in nature. they were never intended to be songs, of course, like the hobbit songs the youngest elves love most (i like to imagine bilbos bath time songs especially are big hits!). rather, they were poems. but the elf who loves them most just could not stop giving them melodies. many of them were about the beauty of far away middle-earth, many told of the beauty of aman, of the mountains and valleys and caves, and even forests, sometimes. a few, though, are about love. there is one ballad that singers often perform at the request of young, lovesick elves: it tells the story of an elf of the woods (he remains unnamed), famed for his skill in archery and his dark eyes, who catches the singers heart in his hands one day and mischieviously refuses to give it back...galadriel smiles when she hears it performed, because she is one of the few who knows and remembers who the ballad is about 💞

note: the elf within the song is unnamed and few know that gimli is the original author because to me, gimli and legolas have always exuded an air of privacy; theyre doing their own thing and frankly just want their peace! so in my opinion it would not be that important to either of them to be remembered for a love song. a poem-turned-song about the glittering caves is attributed to gimli, though =)

there are many small marks in aman, most in vicinity to legolas, that were left by gimli, but his poems (with legolas' melodies) remained in all of aman for endless years, and some have said that aulë himself listens in to the songs being performed at times ❤️

[saphirered]

The Lovers

Spoilers for Campaign 2 Ep141

Man oh man oh man. I've had this one written since the day after the last episode but I've been soooooo hesitant to post it at all 🙈. Anyway... I'm just gonna regardless because it's just sitting there staring at me to either delete or post it 🤭. I hope you enjoy because I'm still so conflicted about his piece of writing 😅. Unless people actually like it I might just end up deleting it after all.

---

Jester had asked you to come along on another journey of the Nein Heroez. She needed your expertise for something but couldn’t get across what for within the twenty-five word limit. Regardless, the opportunity to see and travel with your friends is not one you’re just going to pass on so of course you happily made your way to Nicodranas. Maybe the ocean would do you some good. It’s been a while after all.

In the first few days of your journey Jester had been keeping a close eye on you, watching your responses and reactions. Specifically your reactions to any and all interactions with a certain lavender tiefling. When she was certain your responses to the tiefling in question were not in any way negative and cordial if not friendly you found yourself being paired with him more often than not. Watch, hoisting the sails or dropping them, food shifts and even at the helm a few times.

You caught an argument between Fjord and Jester a few weeks later. Fjord was defending you and telling Jester she couldn’t just play matchmaker after everything that had happened between the previous inhabiter of Kingsley’s body and you and how it might still be a painful subject of not once but twice being faced with someone that’s not the person you loved and lost.

Jester seeing reason in Fjord’s arguments put aside the love story she’d been trying to unfold with you and the poor tiefling as her main characters. The shifts you shared with Kingsley came to a close and would be no more often than any shifts shared with anyone else on the crew.

One day the Nein Heroez made port to stock up on some supplies after being hit by a storm and running short on food. The crew was given some downtime to enjoy the many pleasures port has to offer but you decided to stay back at the ship. You asked Jester for the cards.

You’re sitting crosslegged on the docks watching the sunset as the crew leaves in groups bidding you goodbye while they go. Once the majority of them have left you take out the cards and begin laying them in certain patterns starting with simple ‘yes/no’s onto the past present future and more complicated readings. You’re not paying attention to any particular results but instead study the drawings fondly.

“You’d call me a sentimental fool.” You snicker as the fool card is revealed in front of you.

“Sentimental? Yes. A fool? I’ve yet to decide.” You turn around at the familiar voice seeing the tails of the black sleeveless coat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing around. You pick up the cards and put them back in their order stacking them.

“Oh really? You’d think a few weeks of being not so inconspicuously paired together on any task possible would give you enough time to form an opinion on that?” You tease beginning a new read.

“Maybe that makes me the fool then.” You can almost hear the smirk in his words.

“Care to find out?” You put down card by card face down. You know how to push for certain results. A trick you’d picked up from your former lover. It feels right to use it against him in a strange twisted way like this. Not really him but close enough.

Kingsley sits down to the side, not trusting you to not push him off the docks if he were to make an offensive (in jest of course) remark. Gathering the cards back up you start over. Time for a bit of fun. You push for the first card setting it down face up in front of him.

“The owl and the bear. Some might say the most deadly combination when put together. Be watchful of the owl’s words or you might find yourself at the ends of the bear’s claws.”

“So it was a good idea to sit on this side and avoid meeting my waterlogged demise.”

“Are you doubting my capabilities, Kingsley?” You smirk and watch the tiefling gulp. You move on to the next card making a show of pulling it from the deck and displaying it.

“Look at that! What did I say. The fool has appeared. The cards have spoken. my fool.” You take a bow as if addressing the most pretentious royalty around limited only by your crosslegged position on the docks. Kingsley can’t help but let out a chuckle at your theatrics.

“The cards have spoken indeed! A fool I must be.” He plays along. You begin picking up the two cards and restack the deck.

“Hey hey hey, isn’t there supposed to be three cards for this one? Not two?” You stop. He’s not wrong technically. You raise an eyebrow at him, fan out the cards and allow him to pull one from the deck as per the variant of this reading, putting the fate in the hands of the drawer. Not really of course. Usually you’d still be able to push for a card for them to draw but for this one you’d leave it up to the divines. You’ve had your fun.

And fun it was until Kingsley kept the card for himself, studying it closely. You were curious to see which one he pulled but you hadn’t exactly paid attention to that like you’d otherwise done. You wait for him to either give it back or tell you what it is but he takes a long time.

“So what is it?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you. It still takes a good few seconds before he lowers the card so you can see it too.

“Oh.” Is all you manage to vocalise upon seeing the card. The Lovers. The familiar drawing of a lavender tiefling looking at another figure arm outstretched and love in their eyes. The image of the tiefling reaches for the outstretched hand of the other figure; your figure. You’re staring back at your own face and the expression Mollymauk had claimed to have plenty of visual references for to know he could properly draw you but would always ask for one more just to remind him.

“I’m so sorry.” Kingsley hands the card back to you and you keep staring at it. He stays for a little bit to make sure you’re alright as you’re hit with a whirlwind of emotions. Once he’s sure you’re alright he begins to get up.

“I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening. Someone’s gotta make sure these fools drink just enough and start a brawl or two.” You snap out of it putting the card back into the deck.

“Kingsley. It’s alright. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” The whirlwind subsides and you return back to a peaceful state of mind. You offer the tiefling a kind smile and he halts himself sitting back down still somewhat tense. He opens his mouth to say something but is quick to close it again. There’s a moment of silence between the two of you as you shuffle the cards absentmindedly. You catch onto the conflict and hesitation in Kingsley’s features.

“If there’s something you wish to say please do say it.”

“When you said you loved him… I think it never registered it was anything other than the love the others held for him. Strongly yes but I always assumed it was akin to Yasha’s. Why didn’t you say anything?” Kingsley states piecing things together watching you closely.

“It’s not a burden for you to bear.” You pull the Lovers card back up to the top and study it closely.

“I might not know much but I don’t think being faced with your dead lover’s body inhabited by someone not him doesn’t bother anyone. That’s just cruel.”

“It doesn’t bother me. Not anymore. I’ve grieved Molly when he died. I grieved him again when Lucien returned. I’ve gone through it all and accepted he’s not coming back and that’s okay. Everything comes to an end at some point. I don’t think it’s cruelty. I think everything is as it should be.” You speak honestly stroking your thumb over the card.

“I have so many questions.” Kingsley states. You get it. He woke up one day, recovering from death not knowing who he is or was before that moment beyond emotions and flashes of a past that didn’t feel like his. That’s exactly why you wanted to spare him another previous relation to figure out. Yes it might make things slightly more difficult for you but that’s not his fault. That’s no one’s fault.

“And I believe Beau gave you her notebook so you can read back about your predecessors. But you’re not ready for that yet, are you? That’s okay. Don’t read it until you feel ready.” Kingsley’s head shoots up to look at you. Why do you understand him? Maybe you’re wiser than he gives you credit for but he thinks you’re already pretty wise.

“Expectations. Everyone expected something of me but I didn’t live up to it. I’m not who he used to be and that disappoints people. But from you, you never expected anything from me. Why?” He’s piecing it together bit by bit. You never slipped up. Never asked him to put on a coat that wasn’t his or asked him if he remembered something. You never even asked him if he recalled anything about you or sought to involve yourself in his life without his permission.

“It’s unfair to expect someone to be or become someone they’re not and never will be. You get to be your own person free of the constraints of the past.” The answer is simple. There’s no deceit or doubt. No hidden message or intent behind it.

“How is it you of all people can say that without pain or regret or wishing it were different?” You turn the card back around and put it back in the deck in its place and put the cards away. You take a second before answering trying to formulate a proper answer as Kingsley waits studying every micro expression.

“Bear with me for this one.” You start and he nods. “Lucien was born lonely forced to fend for himself and make friends out of the need to survive. Molly rose from a grave alone and scared. He was taken in by friends but he had to find a home his home with them. He found that home and got kindness and love. You awoke surrounded by friends, no family you didn’t even know but would still love you regardless. No matter what, you’d always have a home with them. You’d be neither alone nor lonely unless you choose to be.” You explain and take breath before you continue.

“You plant random seeds in the ground it’s very unlikely you’re going to receive the same flower twice. The only similarity they have is that they are seeds and will grow as long as they have the right foundations to do so. When I look upon you I see Kingsley Tealeaf, a man that became a sailor after we brought him back from the Astral Sea. There may be similarities, your roots may even be the same but you are not the same. You are separate.”

Kingsley takes in your words very carefully with a sense of understanding and something with in him he couldn't quite pinpoint until now. Acceptance and content. Whatever might have been holding him back before, he’ll have to come to terms with that. That’s the past and if the past comes searching for him one day, so be it. Until then, Kingsley Tealeaf has a life of his own to live and to enjoy. Enjoy all life has to offer, to its fullest and don’t hold back.

Let the sailor become captain of his own ship knowing he has a home and a family that will welcome him with open arms to return to. Let the eight be nine despite the expectations of others. Be free and be happy. Live content.

[my-writings-and-musings]

MTMTE Headcannon Prompt

Enemy forces hack the Lost Light and deactivate the atmospheric controls, leading to a slow loss of oxygen in the hopes the damage to the ship's "pet" will give them an edge. While the rest of the crew struggles to fight off their attackers and restore these critical systems, the bot(s) you've come to love stays by your side as a guard while begging you to remain conscious, growing ever more panicked as you begin to fade... Until you're saved just in time, and then they're left grappling with the fact they nearly lost you.

(A lot more dramatic than my first prompt certainly, and way more involved so I can only do two bots per post... But I'll get to them all!)

Part One: You're Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Rodimus

·You're chilling on the mess of blankets he uses as extra insulation in the berth, debating which movie you'll watch with him when he returns, when the ship gives a rumble. At the lack of emergency signals that follow, you assume something has just bumped against the shields, which happens so frequently you only shrug.

·Elsewhere on the bridge, Rodimus receives a taunting message from the enemy ambush, bragging about how impossibly easy it was to crash key programs on the Lost Light, like the air filtration system... which will make things awfully difficult for his pet as oxygen has started to leak. He goes from aggressive bantering to obvious horror, putting the pieces together just as a loud series of distant rumblings marks the deactivation of the filters providing the oxygen you need to survive.

·For once his commanding officers all know what to expect in unison, allowing them to take over the bridge when he abandons it in a desperate rush to your location, his pounding pedes leaving tire marks in his wake as he stumbles into a frantic transformation to cross the distance as fast possible.

·Unable to reach you on any channel, he loses all focus of his surroundings before skidding to a tumbling halt before your shared quarters, calling out your name and activating his scanner as he registers dangerously low and still dropping oxygen levels across the ship.

·You're unaware of anything amiss as you continue to relax, but that's mostly due to a growing fog of confusion settling over your thoughts and senses. It's so dense that it has already made you incapable of noticing that the air is unusually stale, and your befuddlement only grows when he barges in like the place is burning down, moreso than usual.

·Scooping you into his arms, his relief at seeing you alive and conscious turns to terror when he realizes you've already begun to suffer the effects, as your bleary smile and dizzy demeanor make clear. He doesn't need to be a human doctor to know you're already in a bad way.

·Just as he is halfway through an explanation you barely understand, he receives a communication through restored channels from the other commanding officers warning that the ship has been boarded by enemy forces, at which point he resolutely declares that nothing will reach you so long as his spark has so much as a flicker left. In your inability to grasp the danger his steadfast vigilance is heartwarming.

·A defensive unit is posted outside for your safety, but as the battle rages through the ship and oxygen levels continue to fall, he stops focusing on the invasion. Instead he cradles you and encourages you to be still and quiet while he tries to keep up a one sided conversation to keep you distracted, knowing that what oxygen remains must be rationed.

·For the first time in his life he can't fake a smile no matter how badly he tries, the sight of your increasingly strained breaths and fading eyes drawing tears to his optics and eventually forcing him to his knees as his meandering words turn to soft pleading, his voice cracking as he alternates between begging you to stay with him and apologizing for being unable to save you.

·As you hover over a warm blackness you're far too disoriented to be as afraid as you should be, and instead you offer comfort at the sight of the bot you've come to adore so readily, murmuring your love even as he gently shushes you and tears begin to fall down his face without reservation.

·Though the battle turns in favor of the crew and the room you're in is spared attack, the atmospheric systems remain inoperable for what he knows is too long, and the ticking seconds match the fluttering of your eyes as they try not to shut.

·You know he wants you awake, but you're so incredibly tired and he's so impossibly comfortable, why can't he just let you have a nap? It's not like you won't be able to see each other after, so why does he look so sad? You wish you could tell him not to be sad.

·When you inevitably slip into unconsciousness he's beside himself, panicking but doing everything he can to gently wake you up, tenderly rubbing his thumb over your cheek to encourage you to stir. The crushing grief just beginning to take hold is so great he actually doesn't notice he has a message until it forces itself through.

·He's barely able to recollect the conversation he has with Ratchet, save the order to get you to the medical bay, where they've restored just enough functionality to produce oxygen on a one human scale. The bots who saw him running afterwards said there was little more visible than a fiery blur with you in his arms.

·Cybertronian engineering combined with carefully studied earth medicine provides you with the air you need just in time, dredging you up slowly from deep unconsciousness to the sterile taste of a ventilation mask over your face. Your discomfort mattered precious little when you behold Rodimus at your side, servo cupping your body as his face still shines with tears.

·It takes moments for him to break when you're left alone together, his shoulders shaking as the helplessness continues to haunt him, and his apologies blend together in an endless tangle of self depreciation.

·As you've come to do when he's overwhelmed, you encourage him to come closer, hugging his helm to your smaller body as if he's laying it in your lap. The oxygen mask limits you, but you don't let it stop your quiet shushes as you stroke his crests. ·Without delay you slow his tears, reassuring him that everything is well until exhaustion claims him and he falls asleep at your bedside.

·The experience doesn't leave him for some time. Both in public and in private you catch him paying close attention to you, and you know he's double checking your breathing, still worrying that such a simple thing could steal you away so quickly.

· Finally, you take him aside and pull his hand to your chest, indicating the rythym of your body and how you know it better than anyone. If he can't trust the world, then he should at least trust you, and with that newfound perspective he starts to heal as well. Because he trusts you more than anything.

Magnus/Minimus

·You're in the berthroom the two of you share, distracted by preparations for what you hope will be a simple but relaxing night in. In the well protected room it's impossible to hear much going on outside, especially with you focused so intently on making everything just the way he likes it.

·He's in his office and armor completely focused on some important paperwork when he receives an urgent warning; they're being boarded, and the attackers have already managed to offline several key atmospheric regulators and security systems. The thought initially only spurs him to begin defensive measures, but the moment he sees that oxygen levels are starting to drop, protocol ceases to exist.

·In battle he's always been a foe to be reckoned with, but now he's like a force of nature barreling through the ship, and the single unit of enemies that tries to confront him becomes little more than scattered body parts before they can let off a single shot. His fury is so overwhelming even his allies flinch when he tears past them to reach your shared quarters. He can't contact you by communicator, and he's uncertain if it's due to downed channels, or something he can't bring himself to consider.

·The door stands little hope when he tears it open in rage that's quickly evolving into panic, shouting your name as a flood of terrifying possibilities torture him with all the ways you could already be suffering. He has no idea how much or how little oxygen you need, and for all he knows the deprivation is already killing you, making you suffer...

·It takes all of his incredible self control not to embrace you when you stumble into view, dizzy and weak as well as quite confused, and he realizes things are far from okay when you lean on his offered hand to prevent yourself from falling. You actually laugh thanks to the delirium, finding it adorable to see the big tough bot diving to catch you.

·He can't bring himself to be mad at you not taking this seriously, but he's certainly frustrated at himself for being absolutely helpless to assist you, even if there's nothing he can do in the midst of the chaos with no communication options in working order.

·Ever the tactician, he barricades the two of you as effectively as he can, knowing that you're vulnerable enough now that moving you through combat could be fatal. The entire time he's multitasking on a million fronts; trying to keep you still on the berth to conserve energy, working to reestablish communication with anyone, and internally punishing himself for not having prepared some kind of protocol for this situation.

·Due to his personality you're quite accustomed to seeing him worry, but you're hardly comfortable with it, and on reflex you keep trying to comfort and reassure him despite your weakening state. His insistence you stay resting makes as little sense as his explanations, all you know is he needs help.

·Every minute drags by like an eternity, yet his skill at spotting details makes it impossible for him to miss the toll each one takes in real time. Your breaths are growing more strained, your body is settling down onto the berth with less resistance, and your eyes are meeting his with increasing dullness.

·When you can't even sit up a part of him simply... snaps. All but throwing off his armor, he brings you into his arms in his base form, not admitting but knowing that if he can't save you, he wants this to be the last way you see him.

·In a pleasant haze of fading consciousness, you initially smile at the sight, having always preferred to see him as his true self as often as possible. You'd playfully pointed out how he still towered over you in this form so many times...

·With no traces of battle growing close, or of help arriving before it's too late, he can't help but lose sight of the world around him in its entirety. What does the universe matter if you won't be in it? What good are his abilities if he can't save you from something so apparently benign?

·Never before has he cried in the presence of anyone, so to see tears in those beautiful red optics gives you considerable pause, even as your vision grows dark around you. Something must have been terribly wrong for him to cry, but you care far more about comforting him than finding out what.

·Despite the weight in your limbs, you reach up as he holds you close to weakly cup his face, shushing him with a promise he'll be okay before slipping into darkness.

·It's a stroke of fortune that Ratchet arrives when he does, catching the smaller mech holding your limp form tight as his shoulders shake in silent sobs, as the broken bot would have never allowed your loss to go unpunished. He's bordering on incoherent himself when the medic explains that the attack has been stopped, and that while communications are still down, he was able to isolate a portable supply of oxygen for you.

·It's almost too much for him to believe when the mask is laid over your face and life returns to your peaceful form. The medic confirms you'll survive, and while there will be a road to recovery, you shouldn't suffer any ill effects from the close call. He's torn between relief and still further worry.

·Had you not been saved, he's certain he would have donned his armor and annihilated each attacker personally, with little intention of living to fight another day... But as you recover in the aftermath, he instead throws himself into crafting regulations, trying to come up with a series of safeguards and rules to ensure this can't happen again. He drafts it all at your bedside.

·When you wake up he's effusive in his apologies. How could he not have predicted this? It's such an obvious possibility! He takes your tiny hand in his as he alternates between admonishing his tactical failure and begging forgiveness, forcing you to interrupt and quiet him down before he can say anything else against himself.

·You remind him that it's not his purpose in life to protect you, as he should know better than anyone your size doesn't mean you need constant protection. All you need is for him to be there, just as he is, which is what he's done.

·Only a few tears fall this time, and you're eternally grateful to confirm that they're from blissful relief. He doesn't know how you manage to always remove the weight of the world from his shoulders, but you do, and he'll treasure that more completely from now on.

[doc-pickles]

hoping, dreaming, dying to keep

And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go

King of my heart, body and soul

“You know, I found your husband.”

The voice in the doorway of the lounge made Jo look up in shock, brows furrowing as she comprehended what Alex had just said. “What?” 

“I hired a guy. I found his name. I looked him up,” Alex paused, gauging Jo’s reaction as he relayed his actions. “And then I went and found him.”

“Oh, my God, Alex.” 

“Look. You didn't ask me to do that, and you didn't give me permission to do that, and it was wrong, and I'm sorry. But Jo, I swear to God, I could never, ever hurt you,” Alex wore a pitiful expression as he looked at Jo, obviously hoping she would hear him out. “My dad, he was like your ex. I'm not like that, all right? I'm not like my dad. I mean, I do things that are wrong. I do things that are stupid. But I swear to you I would never hurt you.”

Jo let Alex’s words sink in, heart pounding as she realized that Alex had gone behind her back, “You saw Paul?” 

“Yeah.”

“Are you serious? After I told you what I went through you just went behind my back and found Paul,” Jo ran a hand through her hair as she fought back tears. “I’ve spent so many years hiding from him and you just what? Found him on the internet? What if he figures out where I am? What then?” “Jo I-”

“No this… This is unforgivable. I’m sorry Alex but I don’t think I can trust you again after this,” Jo turned away from Alex, attempting to stem her tears long enough for her to get herself alone. “Can you just leave? Please?”

There’s a long pause and she almost thinks that he’s left her there before his voice pipes up, “I’m sorry Jo. Really I am.” Once she hears him leave the lounge and shut the door behind himself, Jo let’s a few quiet tears escape. She contemplates running, leaving everything behind once again and starting over. But she’s built a life here in Seattle, Alex be damned. She wasn’t going to let Paul or her fear keep her from living her life. If Paul became an issue again then she’d face the problem when it was standing in front of her. She wasn’t the same scared girl she used to be, she was a fighter and she could handle this.

+

“The Heparin should have helped by now. I think I made the wrong call.”

Jo’s heart drops as she approaches Alex and Amelia. She had run herself ragged around the hospital trying to find an answer only for her search to be useless. 

“Wait. Heparin? No. I texted,” Alex turns at the sound of her voice, eyeing her warily. “They didn't reverse him.”

“Damn it. We can't access the reversal agent,” Alex looks at Amelia, who nods at him as she moves into the room. “Prep him to move.”

“What is it? What's wrong,” Frankie’s mom is frantic as Helm and Amelia begin to prep Frankie. 

“Frankie's AVM might be bleeding. We've got to get him to the O.R. now.”

“But the medicine you gave him. It was supposed to help.”

“I'm sorry. We need to go.”

Amelia and Helm push Frankie out of the room, his mom hot on their heels. Jo watches them, her teeth gnawing on her bottom lip in worry. Finally she looks up to Alex who hasn’t moved from his spot next to her. 

“Hey. I'm so sorry. I texted. It didn't go through.  And then…”

“And then what,” Jo is expecting anger from Alex but instead his voice is laced with concern as he places a hand on her shoulder. “Jo, what’s wrong?”

She doesn’t know why the words slip out so easily for her but as Jo looks at Alex she can’t help herself, “Paul is here. I… I saw him downstairs.”

She doesn’t need to say anything else as Alex steps forward and wraps his arms around her, pulling her close as she takes a few shuddering breaths, “Why don’t you come sit in the gallery while Amelia and I operate? That way you aren’t totally alone.”

Jo nods, silently agreeing to Alex’s plan as they walked down the hall towards the OR. Jo stops a few feet away from the scrub room, gripping Alex’s arm tightly. In front of them sits Paul Stadler, fixing his shoe covers without a care in the world. Alex quickly turns to Jo, blocking her from Paul’s view. 

“I’m in OR 3, go up to the gallery and don’t move until I come up later,” Alex watched as Jo let out a shaky breath and nodded, eyes still trained on Paul. “It’s gonna be alright Jo.”

Alex wants nothing more than to reach down and kiss Jo, to hold her tight as a comfort to both of them that things would be okay. Instead he watches her walk down the hallway, turning a corner and disappearing from his line of view, unknowingly carrying a large piece of his heart with her. 

-

It’s late the next day when Alex walks Jo up to the door of the loft. After signing the divorce papers only for Paul to die a few hours later Jo had been through a lot. Alex had driven her home, making sure she got into the loft safely, “I’m gonna head out, do you need anything before I go?”

“Can you maybe just camp out on the couch tonight,” Jo sat on her bed, a ratty Princeton sweatshirt engulfing her a s she stared helplessly at Alex. “I just… I really don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude or anything,” Alex rubs the back of his neck nervously, glancing up at Jo who has tears welling in her eyes. “Hey, don’t cry. I’ll stay okay?”

Jo sucks in a deep breath before a sob breaks from her, “I’m just really shaken up. I don’t want to be alone again. I know… I know that Paul is dead but I can’t stop my mind from playing worst case scenarios on an endless loop.

Alex closes the gap between them and pulls Jo into his arms as she continues to cry. He wanted nothing more than to hold her all night, comfort her the way she wanted. But he knew that wasn’t his place anymore so he started on the couch, the same one Jo had bought him. He leapt up when Jo was startled awake by a nightmare, comforting her until she drifted back to sleep. He feels selfish for loving the way her body so easily curls against his, but if this is the only way he can have Jo then so be it.

+

“You get ditched already too?” Jo jumps at the voice that sounds behind her, louder than the crowded room around her. She turns with a small grin as she meets Alex’s eyes, “Yeah I came down with Meredith but as soon as we got here she went off with Hayes. I’m pretty sure they already left.”

“Well if I was having the amount of sex they were having I wouldn’t want to stick around at some stuffy party either,” Alex takes a long gulp of his beer, Jo eyeing him for just a moment too long. His eyes glance over her and she can almost hear the gears in his brain turning. “What’s that look for?”

Jo gulps her own red wine, feeling a blush creep up from her neck to her cheeks, “Nothing, I just haven’t gotten laid in a pathetically long time. I don’t have time for casual sex.”

A deep laugh escapes Alex and the sound vibrates through Jo’s body, lighting her up with an electricity she hadn’t felt in far too long. Her eyes meet his, a grin forming on his cheeks, and before Alex could say anything else she was speaking, one hand pressing a finger into his chest, “Don’t say it!”

“I didn’t say anything!” “Yes but you have that cocky grin that you always used to wear when you thought you were going to get laid,” Jo narrows her eyes in Alex’s direction as his smirk widens. “Don’t even think about it, I am not going home with you.”

The moment isn’t as tense or awkward as Jo would’ve assumed, instead the same electricity fluttering around her chest was now buzzing around her and Alex. Even though they’d been broken up for over a year and a half now, their chemistry was still there burning just as strong as ever.

“You said it yourself, you haven’t gotten laid in awhile. We could help each other out,” Jo hates how her body reacts to him, melting at the mere suggestion of having sex. “It could be a no strings attached kind of thing, you know just scratching an itch.”

“And you think that you and I could be no strings attached? After all, we do have a history.”

The way their eyes meet then confirms for Jo that no matter what she says next her body is going to betray her and give into the primal urge building up rapidly within her. Alex’s eyes are dark and filled with a sense of longing as he stares at her, fingers reaching out to grab her hand, “There’s only one way to find out.”

They barely make it to Alex’s car before their hands are all over each other, clothing being ripped away as they fall into the backseat in a whirlwind of moans and gasps. It feels as if no time has passed between them as she and Alex fall over the edge together, heavy breaths echoing around them as Jo rests her cheek against his chest. 

His heartbeat sounding in her ear comforts her in a way she’d forgotten about, never lingering like this with any of her one night stands or casual flings. She almost lets herself get caught up in the feeling before Alex’s voice rings in her ear.

“So… no strings attached?”

+

She knows she’s had a drink too many when she let’s Alex’s arms wrap around her waist, her body melting at his touch despite the fact that they were surrounded by their friends and coworkers. Meredith and Hayes had said their vows hours earlier, the couple happily dancing with all five of their combined children as everyone around them celebrated. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Alex’s breath is burning hot against her neck, his presence overwhelming all of her senses. “I’ve got a room upstairs.” “Aren’t you supposed to stick around since you’re the man of honor,” Jo turns in his embrace and settles her hands on Alex’s chest as she fixes him with a stern look. “I don’t think Mer will be too happy to look around and find you missing.”

Alex rolls his eyes as his hands snake down to her waist, pulling her closer to him, “She’ll live. Now c'mon, I've been staring at you in that dress all night and all I’ve wanted is to take it off of you.”

The rest of the night is a blur, Jo and Alex falling into bed with each other multiple times before they finally succumb to sleep. It’s not until late the next afternoon when she wakes up in his embrace that Jo realizes that they hadn’t used any protection. Staring at Alex’s sleeping form she decides to keep that revelation to herself, dressing quietly and slipping out the hotel room before he can wake up.

+ The next few weeks are excruciating, Jo avoiding Alex at any and all costs. They’d usually meet up at least once a week, but she’d been ignoring his texts and avoiding the peds floor whenever possible. She knew Alex could tell something was wrong, even before they’d started their ‘no strings attached’ relationship they’d see each other around the hospital or at Joe’s. But since Meredith and Hayes’ wedding she’d given him the cold shoulder, her anxious mind spinning out as she played over what their future might look like.

It’s a month after the wedding when she finally gets hit with a bout of nausea in the middle of rounds. She barely makes it out of the patient room and to the trashcan in the hallway before her breakfast is reappearing in front of her, a sinking feeling settling in her stomach as she shoos her group of residents away. Once she’s confident that she won’t throw up again, Jo finds herself darting to the nearest supply closet and grabbing a pregnancy test.

She’s known in the back of her head for almost a week but she hadn’t dared to confirm the growing suspicion lingering there. Now however there would be no more denying as what she assumed was morning sickness and the accompanying nausea had plagued her since rolling out of bed that morning.

“C’mon, just tell me already,” Jo mumbles the words to herself as she stares down at the two tests resting on the bathroom counter in the attendings lounge.

“Jo? You okay?” The question is met with a knock on the bathroom door but before Jo can answer the person on the other side the timer on her phone is blaring, startling her into knocking both tests and her still sounding phone onto the floor. She scrambles to pick everything up just as the door swings open, Alex standing before her with a worried expression on his face. 

Great, just what I needed.

She’s about to speak when she follows his line of sight to the two plastic tests sitting right in front of his feet, both brandishing a bright pink plus sign. Jo picks the tests up quickly but she knows the damage has already been done. When she stands up and faces Alex her mind immediately flashes back to the night he proposed to her in the loft. His face has the same mix of heartache and hurt that it had that day two years ago and Jo’s own heart twists as she meets his eyes. 

“Oh.” The word slips from Alex’s mouth easily and his eyes dart to Jo’s abdomen. Before he can say anything else Jo is speaking in a nervous tangent, “I was throwing up this morning and I’ve already suspected for a few weeks, well I assumed something might have happened since we weren’t exactly careful at the wedding and I was just waiting for this stupid stick to turn pink and then-”

“You knew?,” Alex’s voice stops her nervous tangent, blinking up at him in confusion. “You knew, or you thought you might know, and you didn’t say anything to me?”

“Well I wasn’t for sure about it-” “But you knew we didn’t use protection? And that you might be pregnant for weeks and you didn’t say anything. Instead you just avoided me the whole time,” Jo could feel Alex’s anger rising as his brain worked through the situation at hand. “Were you even going to tell me you were pregnant if I hadn’t shown up just now?”

“Of course I was! But I didn’t think I needed to keep you in the loop on every little thing in my life seeing as you’re not my boyfriend,” Jo crosses her arms as she stares down Alex, her own anger boiling under her skin. “You were the one that insisted on this being no strings attached, well that’s exactly what you’ve got! I’ll let you know when I book an appointment, other than that don’t expect to hear from me.” Jo brushes past Alex, ignoring his calls to her as she walks briskly out of the attendings lounge. She would deal with the repercussions later, for now all she wanted was to be left alone and to be as far away from Alex as possible. 

+

Weeks pass by and true to her word Jo doesn't contact Alex except to tell him about her first ultrasound. He misses the appointment, an emergency surgery calling him away half an hour beforehand, and Jo feels a small twinge of sadness as she tucks the ultrasound into his wallet. While part of her is still upset with him, another part is sad that he wasn’t able to experience the appointment with her. 

“Wilson I’ve got a patient in room 4 that needs a consult,” Hunt’s voice booms from behind her and Jo turns to meet his eye. “Car crash victim with minor injuries. Do you mind grabbing it? We’re filling up fast here.”

Jo nods, grabbing an iPad and bringing up the electronic chart. She feels like crap, even though she’s approaching the 12 week mark she’s still plagued with nausea and heartburn most days. Her stomach now has the slightest curve to it and Jo can’t help but run her hand over the small bump throughout the day. 

“Hi Mr. Greene, my name is Doctor Wilson and I’m-“

“I don’t really care who you are, I’m not staying in this damn hospital,” the older man seems disgruntled, sitting on the edge of the gurney and fixing Jo with a glare. “I’m perfectly fine anyways.”

Despite what he says, the man has a large gash across his forehead and his right arm is clearly bothering him. Jo takes his reluctance in stride, taking another step towards the bed, “I just want to check out that cut on your forehead and make sure it doesn’t get infected. It looks like you might need stitches.” “I told you I’m fine! I don’t trust any of you doctors.”

“Well we’re going to have to keep you for obser-“

Before she can move out of the way, the man is springing up from the gurney and lunging towards her. His hands grab her arms roughly and slam her into the wall of the trauma room. Jo can feel her head smack against the plaster as she lets a scream out, eyes screwing shut as she tries not to let her racing mind overwhelm her. 

Paul. Running away. Jason. Fighting back. DeLuca. Mistakes. Alex. Heartbreak. Her baby… Her baby. Her baby. 

Suddenly the pressure against her arms releases and Jo opens her eyes in time to see Alex pulling the now screaming patient away from her. Instead of the angry and visceral reaction she’s expecting from him, Jo watches as Alex pulls the patient away just long enough to let Owen sedate him. As soon as he hands him off, Alex is in front of her, his hands now resting on her shoulders as he looks her over. She’s frozen in place, her body shaking involuntarily as she tries to stop the panic attack she can feel coming on. 

“Are you okay? Jo?”

“Um yeah, I think so. I hit my head pretty hard but I’m okay,” she can hear the way her voice is trembling as she meets Alex’s eyes. “I’m fine, I’m okay. I’m fine, really I’m fine.” She keeps repeating the words as Alex pulls her into him, tears floating down her cheeks as her chest constricts tightly. Jo has been through her share of scary situations before, she’s been beaten within an inch of her life but she’s never been this scared. She’s never had to worry about someone else before but right now all she could think about was if her baby had somehow been hurt. 

“Do you want me to page Carina to check you out?”

Any other day she would have brushed off concerns from anyone about her well-being but Jo’s anxiety is already peaking and she doesn’t want to leave anything to chance. She nods slowly, listening as Alex asks Owen to page Carina and then leads her out of the room. 

+

Hours later Jo is crawling into bed, ready for the day to be over. Her head is pounding but she’d been instructed to stay awake for a few hours following her injury to make sure she truly was okay. After having both Amelia and Carina poke and prod her, she was more than ready to lay in bed until late tomorrow.

“Your meds are on the counter and I filled up a water bottle for you to keep on your side table,” Jo gazes up at Alex who's standing in front of her, a concerned yet genuine smile on his face as he looks at her. “You need anything else before I head out?” “Stay.” Alex pauses only for a second, his expression showing his shock and hope for only a second before he schools his emotions once again, “I don’t wanna intrude. But you can call me if you need anything.” “No I want you to stay Alex,” Jo sits up in bed, despite how tired her body is and fixes Alex with a sincere gaze. An alarming sense of deja vu comes over her as she remembers a similar conversation happening after Paul’s death. Jo had wanted Alex to stay with her and crawl into bed beside her, seeking his comfort after the traumatic events. But always the gentlemen Alex had stayed true to his word and stuck to the couch, except to comfort her in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my suspicions, but I swear as soon as I knew I was going to tell you.” “You didn’t need to tell me anything Jo, I was overreacting. I panicked and I’m sorry.”

Jo shakes her head, eyes watering as she reaches for Alex’s hand, “I don’t care about any of that. You… When you pulled that patient off of me I was convinced that you were going to lunge at him or.... It doesn’t matter what I thought, what matters is that you kept your cool and you made sure I was okay. You showed me that you’ve changed.”

“Of course I did Jo, you mean a lot to me,” Alex moves his free hand up to cup Jo’s cheek and swipe at the few tears that had collected there. 

“And you mean so much to me Alex, more than you know. I know we’ve been through alot but I still care about you. And I don’t want to continue this stupid ‘no strings attached’ thing we have going.” “Oh… Okay.” A grin spreads across Jo’s face as she leans up, pressing her forehead against Alex’s, “I mean I want more with you. I don’t want random hookups or meaningless sex, I want the whole thing. I want you here with me every night. And I want to raise our baby together. I love you Alex, so much. It might’ve taken me a while to realize it but I want it all with you.”

Alex doesn’t bother responding, instead he leans forward and kisses her sweetly. Relief floods Jo as she tangles her fingers in his hair, the stress and pain of the day melting away as she leans into Alex. 

“I love you too. And I’m really glad you’re both okay,” Alex’s hand slides down to the small bump that had grown in just days beforehand, a smile taking over his face as he did so. “You have a bump!”

“Pretty sure it’s all bloat but there’s definitely a baby in there,” Jo let’s a small laugh out as she covers his hand with her own. “We’re sure doing everything out of order aren't we?” 

“Have we ever done anything the easy way?”

[happyk44]

JJ flipped the pancake and sniffled. He rubbed his cheeks. Tears were prickling at the edges of his eyes. There was a quiet reminder to keep drinking fluids in the back of his head so he reached over and sipped at his orange juice as he stared at the pancake. When it was good, he put it on the stack.

He’d woken up with a weird note scribbled on Jason’s side table. Amongst the three of them, their dyslexia tended to affect him less. Well - he rubbed his face before adding another batch of batter to the pan - not less. He was just better at it. He was very mute. And when he fronted on his own, he was screaming and crying and miserable.

Books were something nice to get lost in. And writing things out was kind of nice - especially in the one or two moments he had to take the day. He could just pass a note. My throat hurts. I can’t speak. I’m sick. I’m staying in bed. And when he feigned ill, it explained away his whimpers and his curling up deep into himself. And people left him alone which he liked.

His handwriting was a little nicer than Jason’s too, which he liked. Jason was so big and old but his handwriting was goofy and looked like someone trying to write with their least dominant hand.

He liked that. He was different, a little worse for wear than either of the other two so it was nice to have something he was good at it.

The note split between three pieces of handwriting - Jason’s and Grace’s and a weird combination between the two. But it was clear. Jason was miserable and knew one of them would be taking the brunt today. At the start of the note, he clearly assumed it was going to be Grace. But Grace was reluctant to take precedent because he hadn’t yet calmed himself down. There was big blotch where the ink had stained through the paper, clearly their hand still pressing down while the two argued it out.

And then a list of things for JJ to do.

Which was good for him too.

He could focus on something else other than all the bad things and feel productive and useful. So that was very nice for him. He couldn’t do a lot of big things that either one of them were capable of but he could do enough good things. Enough for a little kid.

Number one was make the bed. Next was to clean Jason’s sword, if he felt comfortable with it. He didn’t but he did scrub the left over monster blood off their sneakers. Then take a shower and make breakfast for everyone else.

He was on breakfast now.

Breakfast was easy. He knew how to make pancakes and eggs. Some of it was an odd autopilot versus what he himself had been taught. Sort of like Jason’s memories of learning bleeding through. But he didn’t remember so explicitly the rules. And if he tried that was when he started to mess up.

He chewed his lip as he grabbed another plate to start the next stack.

Once he finished breakfast he would go their room and give himself a good scream and cry and then change out the pillowcase and eat. He was looking forward to that. Crying and screaming were exhausting but their body was pent-up.

And Jason never did those things.

He took a step back and exhaled slowly as tears finally slid down his cheeks.

It was quiet. He wasn’t used to that. Someone was usually there when he was at the helm of their body. Either loudly or just a vague presence on the boundaries of his thoughts. How did Jason and Grace do this all the time? Absolute silence?

He was scared of people but he wasn’t scared of them.

But people he was scared of-

Piper cleared her throat, catching his attention with a stab of panic. “Hey, Jason.” He shook his head. “I just wanted to- Oh.” She paused and crossed her arms, clearly bothered.

He missed Reyna.

“Is Jason around? Can I talk to him?”

He shook his head again. Reyna never asked that. She didn’t care who she was talking to. Even Grace who didn’t like her.

He turned back to his pancakes.

She exhaled sharply through her teeth. The sound was a painful jab. The plate slipped from his fingertips, shattering against the floor. He froze.

This wasn’t in the instructions.

This was a mess.

He wasn’t supposed to make messes.

A pitiful wail buried into his throat. He stared at the shattered pieces, fully aware of Piper’s eyes staring deep into him as he shook. He didn’t want to clean up in front of her.

They’d done that before, sweeping up broken pieces with child’s fingers and they’d been hit because the plate was precious. It was a gift. And they’d shattered it into pieces. It was before him, before Grace, before Jason. Some person who didn’t exist anymore. But those were his memories.

So it felt like it happened to him and him alone.

He didn’t want to get hit.

He couldn’t fight back. And Jason would never forgive Piper for beating him. Or maybe he’d get mad. He’d get so, so mad at JJ for messing up.

Everyone always got mad.

A panicked gasp shuddered out of his chest.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Piper said. He jerked back. She was too close. Offense bled against her face before she pulled it back into just thin lips and bothered eyes. She squatted at swept up the pieces herself. “See? It’s not that hard.” He stared at her. His face was too wet.

He looked bad. He knew he did. A mess.

Jason was good and put-together.

Piper looked away. “Do you know when Jason’s coming back?” He shook his head, glancing at his pancake. It was going to burn. But he wasn’t going any closer to her. “Well-” She exhaled sharply, her hands tightening against her arms as she crossed them again. “-do you know if we broke up? That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

He didn’t.

He didn’t pay attention to Jason’s love life. This was the first time he’d ever interacted with one of Jason’s partners. He knew Grace had been mean in the early stages of Jason dating. Breaking up with people at random before he sullenly agreed to stop. But JJ never had that opportunity.

And he didn’t want anyone to get mad at him for it.

Piper was still talking, her voice growing erratic. “Because I didn’t mean what I said last night. I was just tired and scared and confused and it’s so weird because I didn’t understand it but I wanted to talk to him about it and now you’re here-” He jolted, pulling back. She cut herself off and glanced away. “I’m sorry.” She pressed her hands to her face and exhaled. They peeled away slowly. At her sides, she clenched them into fists. “Can you tell him I didn’t mean it? And that I want to talk about it some more? Please. I want- I want to understand this, okay?”

He nodded stiffly,

She sighed. “Thank you. Um.” She looked over to the stack already on the table. “Is this for everyone?” He nodded. “That’s very nice of you... JJ?” She cocked her head. “The, um, kid, right?” With another stiff and quick nod, he glanced over at the pancake that was definitely still burning. Her eyes followed and she tightened. “Right. I’ll, um, I’ll you finish up, You can just- come get us when it’s all ready to go.”

Once more he nodded, and she left with that.

The pancake was burnt. He sniffled as he threw it away into the trashcan filled with broken pieces. His lip wobbled but the instructions were clear. Just a few more pancakes. And then he could go cry.

And hopefully no one else would surprise him while he did.

[lemonpepperhawks]

Castaways

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: After a freak storm, you find yourself shipwrecked on a deserted island with Pro Hero, Keigo Takami. While you work hard to get rescued, you realize too late that all may not be as it seems.

Themes/Warnings: Smut; Yandere!Hawks; Noncon; Bit of a slow burn; This is my first time writing smut so I can’t guarantee it will be good, but I like to think I can at least tell a good story lol

It was a beautiful day to be on the water. The weather report said there would be rain, but the only clouds you could see were far off on the horizon. You stretched out on the bow of the boat, letting the warm sun soak into your pores.

You closed your eyes, reflecting for a moment. At first you had thought a private boat ride was a bit... much, for a first date. But being here in the moment, you couldn’t have had a care in the world if you’d tried. You felt utterly at ease, with the caress of the sun above and the gentle rock of the waves below.

“Order up,” came a voice beside you.

You opened your eyes to see your date, Keigo, standing above you with a drink in each hand. One large wing stretched out behind him, blocking the sun so you didn’t have to squint. He passed you a glass and took a seat on the bow beside you. Lounging side by side, you both sipped your drinks and looked out over the ocean.

“You know,” you began, “I thought you were a little crazy when you asked me out here. On a boat, in the middle of nowhere.” You chuckled. “But I’m really glad I came.”

“Bet you’re also glad I’m not secretly an axe murderer,” Keigo joked, tossing back the rest of his drink. “Refill?”

You looked down at your own almost-empty drink and shook your head. You were feeling unusually drowsy from the combination of alcohol and warm sunshine, and what you honestly wanted was a nice nap.

Somehow, Keigo seemed to pick up on this and scooted closer to you, twisting his finger through a strand of your hair.

“You look so peaceful,” He mused. “You can go to sleep if you want.” “Noooo,” you protested weakly, a small smile on your lips. “I don’t want to fall asleep on you during our first date. I really am having a good time.”

Keigo let out a small chuckle. “Don’t worry, you falling asleep on me would fulfill... several fantasies. And don’t worry, I’ll protect ya from any sharks.”

With this, he swept you into his arms and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. Normally, this would be far from anything you’d do on a first date - but your head felt so heavy, and the combination of rocking waves and the soft, soothing rhythm of his heartbeat had you falling asleep in seconds, smile still spread across your lips.

☙

You awoke suddenly. You had no idea how much time had passed, but you were immediately aware that several things had changed. First, you were no longer out on the bow of the boat. Instead, you lay inside the boat’s cabin with a towel wrapped around your shoulders. Secondly, you noticed that your hair was damp and dripping onto the planks below you. And finally you found the reason for all this: there was a storm raging outside. 

“Oh!” shouted Keigo, noticing you wake. “I’m sorry, I had to move us inside. This storm sprung up so suddenly; there wasn’t even a cloud and then-”

“Keigo?” you muttered. Your body felt heavy and groggy as you came out of your sleep. You still weren’t alert enough to comprehend what was happening.

“Don’t worry,” assured Keigo. He turned around from his place at the ship’s wheel to face you with a smile, the same easygoing one he always seemed to have. “Lucky for you, I am a master of not only land and air, but also sea. We’re perfectly-”

A loud thud shook the boat as something hit the left window, hard.

“-safe.”

That noise had finished waking you up, and now you were on your feet, stumbling as the boat rocked violently. You made your way over to Keigo at the helm, tripping over your own two feet like a drunk, and gripped onto one of his arms for support. Looking out the windshield, you could see the full force of the squall. Wind slammed the rain back and forth like a whip, severely limiting visibility. You looked up at Keigo, who was focused straight ahead, his eyes seeming to try to pierce through the storm.

“Look, there!” he exclaimed. “There’s an island ahead and to the right.”

You squinted, but couldn’t see anything yourself. 

“Should I steer us over?”

“I think so,” you agreed. The boat seemed sturdy, but it was small. Just a simple vessel meant for trips of no more than a day or two of light sailing. You didn’t like the thought of being out on the open water during a heavy storm like this.

Without another word, Keigo steered the boat in the direction of the island. The motor sputtered, but stayed running. Slowly, you became able to see the outlines of cliffs and trees through the downpour. There didn’t seem to be any dock, so you guessed this was going to be a beach landing and hoped Keigo knew what he was doing.

Suddenly, a huge shudder went through the boat, knocking you off your feet. Without taking his eyes off the storm, Keigo reached out and caught you with one of his strong wings.

“Hold on,” he commanded steadily, tucking you closer to him.

With terror, you realized that your feet were getting wet. Water was starting to seep into the cabin. You looked back to see a large hole in the boat’s hull, and were about to tell Keigo when another spasm rocked the boat. This time even Keigo lost his footing for a moment.

“Rocks,” he explained quickly. “We’re hitting the rocks.”

His voice was calm, but looking up you could see a hint of panic in his eyes. The wind was whipping furiously, and it felt like the boat might capsize at any moment. The shore was tantalizingly close, but you felt in danger of being swept away before you could reach its safety.

Keigo took his eyes away from the storm for a second, to look at you reassuringly. He gave you a smile and opened his mouth to say something, almost shouting against the sound of the wind.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fi-”

And then, all at once, there was a crash, a jolt, and you felt yourself and Keigo being thrown through the windshield and into darkness.

☙

You found yourself waking up again, this time on the soft sand of a beach. The sky was dark, but clear - thank goodness. Looking to your left, you saw a small campfire, and beyond it, Keigo.

“Good evening, sleepyhead,” he said lightly. “Had me worried for a bit.”

You looked down at yourself, making sure you were all in one piece. Amazingly, there was not a scratch on you. Your muscles were a bit sore, but that was it. Nothing hurt, nothing bled.

Looking back at Keigo, you noticed that the same could not be said about him. He was covered in bruises on his arms and legs, and he had a cut running across one of his cheeks that was still freely bleeding.

He must have noticed your look of surprise, because he said, “Don’t worry, I was just about to clean myself up.” He patted a first aid kit at his feet. “Just wanted to make sure we had some warmth first. It’s getting to be night.”

He looked up and out over the sea, and you followed his gaze to marvel at the stars. You had never seen so many. Being far away from any light pollution, the sky looked like a swirling, winding map of light. And there were so many colors in the sky; it was unbelievable. Casting your gaze downward, you landed on the washed-up wreckage of the ship. It was a miracle that it looked to be mostly in one piece. 

“Keigo, what happened?”

“Well,” he said, rummaging through the first aid kit. “I’m sure you noticed the storm.”

Even in a situation like this, he was lighthearted and joking. Part of you found it a little appalling, but part of you wished you could be more like him - more able to quell the rising panic in your chest. 

“It really did come out of nowhere,” he continued. “Never seen anything like it. And it was gone just as soon as it came.”

It was both alarming and astonishing that such a short storm could cause so much destruction. You stared numbly into the campfire as he went on.

“Luckily you’re safe, and that’s what matters.”

You looked up, and Keigo was staring back at you intently. You could tell he meant it. Even though his own body was battered, it was more important to him that you were safe. You supposed that was part of what being a Pro Hero was all about, but it still sent a shiver down your spine to think that he cared for you that deeply, even if only in a professional capacity. He returned his attention to his injuries, dabbing something on his scraped arms. You moved over to help.

“Thanks,” he laughed. “I’ve had worse, but it never hurts to have a pretty girl taking care of ya.”

He winked. Okay, maybe the care and concern extended a little beyond professionalism. 

“Anyway, I took stock of the boat while you were knocked out,” he resumed. “And we have enough supplies to last a few weeks. Which is good, since it looks like we may not be going anywhere soon.”

“Wait, a few weeks?” you interrupted. “Can’t you just, like, fly us out of here?”

“Well, about that...” Keigo mumbled as he turned his back to you.

Where once there had been two brilliant red wings, now there were little more than stubs with feathers protruding from his back.

“It was a pretty rough landing,” he explained. “A lot of my feathers were torn off and swept away while we were in the water. And on top of that, most got mangled anyway when we were thrown out the window. Honestly, I probably couldn’t even get myself off the ground right now.”

At this point, Keigo looked to you and noticed that you were on the verge of tears.

“Hey, don’t worry though.” He took your hand and clasped his fingers around it tightly. “I promise, I’ll take care of you here. You’ll always be safe with me.” You looked up into his soft, golden eyes. His smile beamed back at you as he opened his mouth to add:

“And hey, what a first date this has turned out to be!”

☙

It undoubtedly was turning out to be quite the “first date.” It only took a few days until you had somewhat settled into a routine. There was a lot of free time, but it allowed you and Keigo to get to know each other and work on projects to make your lives easier on the island.

Keigo had insisted on making identical shelters for the two of you, side-by-side. 

“So I can keep a better eye on you,” he explained cheerfully.

At first he had wanted the two of you to share a single lean-to and bed of leaves, but you insisted that you were more comfortable being at least a little ways apart, and eventually he relented. 

“I get it,” he teased, “not ‘that kind of girl.’ But you know I just want to look out for you, chickadee.”

What exactly there was to look out for, you weren’t sure. You had both circled the island several times - it wasn’t that large, and could be walked in a few hours - and the place was completely deserted. Your only fellow inhabitants were a large population of wild chickens, much to Keigo’s delight. Every morning before you woke, he would wander off into one of the more forested areas. And by the time you were awake, he would be wandering back with fresh meat. You didn’t particularly like thinking about where it came from, but you were grateful for the food.

And chickens weren’t all the island had to offer. There were also delicious fruits and wild carrots, which you had stumbled on while clearing some weeds from around your campsite. There was even a spring of fresh water only a ten minute walk from the beach. It was almost the perfect island to be stranded on. And all of this, along with the nonperishable food from the boat, ensured that you were both well fed and hydrated.

Once, you had asked Keigo about the food. Why there was so much on board for just a day trip. He shrugged.

“Better to be prepared and not need it than to need it and not be prepared.”

☙

While there were certainly worse people to be stranded with than your handsome date, you were still looking forward to being rescued. The whole situation was overwhelming, and, although Keigo was doing a great job at playing survivalist and keeping you warm and fed, it made you uncomfortable to be in such a committed situation with someone you had only been on one date with.

Granted, the one date had now turned into a two-week-long stay on a deserted island, but nonetheless you were hoping to get back to civilization so that the two of you could pursue a more normal, less stressful and intense relationship.

Keigo himself seemed unaffected by stress as far as you could see. The first morning on the island, you had asked him how long it would take for his wings to grow back.

“Last time I got this beat up?” he considered. “It took a few months.”

That was not the answer you had been hoping to hear, but it did inspire you to branch out and think of other creative ways to speed up your rescue.

The first thought was obviously your cell phone. However, one look at the glitching screen told you that your phone had been destroyed by the impromptu swim during your arrival. Keigo’s was the same way.

You then turned your attention to making a good old fashioned “SOS” sign out of rocks, which Keigo helped with. You didn’t have much hope for it - you had seen no planes or other boats since being marooned, and you didn’t even have an idea of where the island was in relation to any populated areas.

“Won’t people start looking for you?” you asked Keigo hopefully as you both worked on the sign.

“Eventually,” Keigo agreed. “But honestly, my friends are used to me disappearing on missions without notice. It could be awhile before they realize something is up.”

You, unfortunately, were the same way. A loner. No close friends who would be suspicious of you dropping off the face of the Earth for a few weeks. Of course your presence would be missed at work, but of course you hadn’t told anyone at the office that you would be on a boat,in the middle of nowhere, with the No. 2 Pro Hero for fear of the gossip that would spread. They wouldn’t even know where to start looking for you. 

The two of you really might as well have fallen off the face of the Earth. 

A few days after the completion of your SOS sign, you had an epiphany. The body of the ship was still on the beach, and ships had radios. Even small ones like this. The ship itself might be beyond repair, but the radio could still be functional. You sifted through the rubble to get to the cabin, which was surprisingly intact. 

Keigo wandered up behind you as you went over to the radio. It was rare for you two not to be in each others’ line of sight these days.

“Whatcha doin’?” he asked.

“I just remembered, we can use the radio to get out of here!” you responded excitedly.

Keigo said nothing. You flicked on the radio and were delighted to see the small green light on its casing come to life. You held the receiver up to your ear, and were greeted by silence. You flipped to another channel. Silence. And another. More silence. Your heart sinking, you went through the channels one by one, and were rewarded with nothing. 

Keigo came up to put an arm around your waist. “No luck?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t understand,” you sobbed. “How can this be? The light is on; it should be working. There’s not even static!”

“Let’s not wear out the battery,” Keigo suggested, reaching past you to flick the radio off. 

The green light, and your hopes of rescue, blinked out.

“Maybe I could fix it,” you mused, brightening a little.

“Maybe,” Keigo agreed, giving you a squeeze. “I think I have some tools in here somewhere.”

☙

The days drew on, and you began to feel stagnated. You hadn’t made any progress toward being rescued. Despite several weeks passing, Keigo’s wings did not look any fuller. The bruises and scar across his face had healed nicely, but his wings remained bare. You had no idea how their growth worked, but you had been hoping that by now he might be able to fly himself - even if it meant leaving you on the island alone, he could at least scout for a rescue ship during the day, or perhaps even fly back to civilization and tell them where to find you.

Keigo, however, had grown increasingly reluctant to leave your side. You supposed the isolation was getting to him and making him clingy. You were his only company after all. And besides, it was kind of cute, having an otherwise confident and laid-back man follow you around like a puppy dog. You could tell he was infatuated with you, and you couldn’t deny that you had been developing stronger feelings for him as well. It was hard not to when he spent most of the day in just his cargo shorts, sweat glistening on his muscled back.

Still, you insisted on keeping your separate sleeping arrangements. Keigo pouted about it, but seemed to understand that you weren’t ready for that yet. 

Aside from your daily chores of sleeping and eating, you spent most of your time cleaning up around the campsite, playing games to pass the time - you were both pros at Rock Checkers by this point - and just talking to each other. You enjoyed hearing about all of Keigo’s exploits as a hero, and he seemed just as interested in the details of your average civilian life. You had spent so much time together at this point; it was impossible not to grow close, and maybe even a little dependent. You couldn’t blame Keigo - you liked having him around too.

Occasionally, Keigo would disappear into the dense forest during the afternoons, and you would be left with free time to work on tinkering with the radio. On one such occasion, before leaving,  he gave you a playful warning.

“You stay right there while I’m gone, chickadee. You never know what big scary monster you might run into in these woods.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just you in those woods, Keigo,” you returned, laughing. 

Keigo just smirked and disappeared into the trees.

☙

Later that same afternoon, you sat hunched over the radio. Not only did Keigo have a toolbox stowed in the ship’s cabin, but the radio operation manual as well. These resources had proved to be very helpful in taking the radio apart, but not too helpful in actually getting it to work. You were beginning to grow frustrated when a voice behind you startled you.

“Hey!” called Keigo. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You turned to see his messy mop of blond hair poking through the doorway behind you.

“Come here,” he said excitedly. “I have something to show you!”

“Hang on just a minute, Keigo,” you responded. “I think I’m close to a breakthrough here. The manual says there should be a green wire right here-” you pointed to a terminal node on the radio “-but I can’t see one. It must have been knocked loose. If I can just find that, we should be able to-”

“Aw, come onnnnnn” whined Keigo. “It’s getting dark out, and you’ve been working too hard. This can wait until tomorrow. I have something I really want to show youuuu.”

You sighed. He could be immature at times, but his childlike excitement was also something that drew you. You couldn’t resist the excited light in his eyes. 

“Okay,” you relented, putting your tools and loose parts away. “If you’re so eager, I guess we’d better get going.”

Practically skipping, Keigo dragged you into the woods. You had not explored much of this part of the island, seeing as it was in the opposite direction from the fresh water source. You hadn’t really had the interest or need to.

“Close your eyes,” Keigo commanded giddily.

You must have been getting close to whatever the surprise was. After a few minutes of guiding you through the trees, Keigo put his hands on your shoulders to stop you. He put something rough into your hands. 

“This is a rope ladder. Climb up and I’ll let you know when you’re getting close to the top.”

You smiled a little to yourself as you started up.

“And don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you slip,” he added. 

At the top, Keigo made you keep your eyes closed until he could scramble up to join you. You had expected to be in a tree, but beneath your feet it felt like solid ground. You guessed that this, whatever this was, was what Keigo had been working on during the times he disappeared into the woods. 

“Okay,” said Keigo, a little out of breath as he came up behind you. “Go ahead and open your eyes.”

You opened your eyes and gasped as Keigo wrapped his arms around you. You were in the trees, their leaves surrounding you on all sides. Actually, you realized, you were between several trees, standing on a firm platform of vines and leaves suspended within their branches. The trunk of one rose up through the center of the floor like a giant column. Peering beyond it, you had a magnificent view of the ocean and sky, where the sunset was just disappearing, giving way to night.

“You like it, baby?” Keigo whispered in your ear. “I built this just for us.”

“It’s - wow it’s - definitely impressive,” you stuttered. 

You had the sudden and overwhelming feeling that you were perched in a nest. A nest belonging to a very large, very strong bird.

Keigo nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“I know you’ve been feeling shy, chickadee, so I wanted to make our first time extra special.”

“You wha-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Keigo spun you around and planted a kiss on your lips, silencing them. One hand was in your hair and the other around your waist, pressing you fully against him. His mouth moved with desperation, trying to force yours to open further. 

“I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” Keigo panted, lowering you both to the floor. “And I know you have too. I see the way you look at me, baby.”

Keigo’s own eyes blazed with hunger, his smile beaming above you. In the dying light, his skin seemed to glow, taking on an unearthly sheen. You were speechless, and unsure of what to say even if you could find your voice.

Keigo started to lift your tattered shirt, and that snapped you back to reality.

“Please, wait,” you begged, grabbing at his hands.

“You don’t need to be shy anymore,” Keigo insisted, pushing away your hands. He reached beneath your shirt to squeeze one of your breasts. “I love you and I’m going to take care of you. Always. Please, please just let me make you feel good!”

“Keigo, STOP!” you demanded.

He stopped, and pulled his hands away from you slightly.

“Keigo, I- you’ve been so nice to me,” you started. “But I’m sorry, I’m just not ready for this. This is all so intense and I- I just want to go home so we can have a normal relationship instead of being stuck on a fucking deserted island!”

Keigo backed off from you, looking hurt and dejected. You were almost in tears, and your voice hitched as you spoke.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I think… maybe it would be best if you slept here tonight and I went back to the campsite.”

Keigo made no response. Unsure of yourself, you stood up and made your way over to the rope ladder. His silence persisted as you lowered yourself down and started back in the direction of the campsite.

☙

Eventually, you found your way back to camp. It was fully dark by the time you reached the side-by-side lean-tos, and you flopped down in one of them, eyes blurred from crying.

You didn’t know what had happened back there. Keigo had been nothing but sweet and generous throughout all of this. Even his treehouse, while a bit presumptuous and misguided, was a sweet testament to his feelings for you. You just weren’t prepared for how fast things were moving. 

Maybe you had overreacted. It was too dark at this point to try and find your way back to Keigo, but in the morning you would find him and explain things. That you had feelings for him, but wanted to focus on getting out of here before pursuing anything more.

You leaned back and closed your eyes. You had half expected Keigo to follow you, but it seemed he hadn’t and was going to spend the night apart as you requested. Uneasily, you drifted to sleep.

☙

You were prodded awake in the middle of the night by a stabbing sensation in your shoulder. Groggily, you propped yourself up and felt behind you for whatever loose twig was the culprit. As you did, you realized with some amusement that you had fallen asleep on Keigo’s bed. He always took the left lean-to and you took the right. It had become a sort of unspoken rule, like a couple who each has “their side” of the bed.

You felt a pang of regret thinking this. If only Keigo hadn’t come on so strong. The truth was that you did want what he wanted. You wanted to be with him. But the stress of your situation and the intensity with which he tried to seduce you had been too much. You hoped you could work things out in the morning.

“Such an idiot,” you muttered. “Hope I didn’t ruin our chances for good.”

Finally, your fingers located the thing that had been poking you. It was oddly smooth, and, as you saw lifting it out of the pile of bedding, not a twig at all. 

You held it up to the moonlight in disbelief: a little green wire. 

Your stomach dropped. Swiftly and silently, you stalked toward the wrecked ship, needing to be sure. By the light of the moon, you quietly opened the casing of the radio, found the node with the missing connection, and slipped the green wire in. It reached perfectly to the node on the other side.

You tried not to let the panic set in. But something was very wrong. You felt the need to get out of there, away from the confined space of the ship.

Tumbling into open air, you began to pace on the wet sand, away from the boat and the campsite. Your thoughts were a whirlwind. Why would Keigo keep that wire from you? Why would he have it in the first place? The answer was obvious, but you didn’t want to believe it. You had been walking aimlessly for at least ten minutes, frightened and confused.

Suddenly, your foot hit something sharp in the sand.

☙

You fell to your hands and knees on the beach, and immediately scrambled around to see what had pricked you. There was a sharp point sticking out from the packed sand, and you dug around to reveal the object.

It was a feather. 

Brilliantly red even in the glow of night, and far too big to belong to any normal bird. Tears welled up in your eyes. You continued to dig and uncovered another, then another. Soon you had unearthed a pit filled with the things.

“Enjoying your night without me, chickadee?”

One of the feathers zipped past you, toward the sound of the voice. 

Trembling, you turned to face him as plumes of feathers swirled around you. One by one, they found their way to Keigo, and his wings began to reconstruct themselves in front of your eyes. Keigo’s hands were stuffed in his pockets as he looked down on you.

“Glad I don’t have to keep secrets anymore,” he said flatly. “I was really beginning to miss having these.”

His wings were stretched out to their full length, making his presence impossible to ignore and extremely intimidating. He relaxed them slightly and sighed. 

“Keigo, you- you knew this whole time,” you spat. “The radio, the feathers, the food - this whole island!”

The man in front of you said nothing.

“Why?” you asked weakly. “Why would you do this?”

“What? Is it so bad to want some time with you?” Keigo shot back suddenly. “I told you, you had nothing to worry about. I love you. I can take care of you here.”

With this, he flew toward you at frightening speed. Before you had time to attempt an escape, he was on top of you. Pressing you down into the wet sand with the full weight of his body.

“Why can’t you just be appreciative? I did all this for you. Just to be with you!”

“You could have killed me!” you screamed into his face. “You weren’t keeping me safe! You could have killed me!”

At your words, Keigo’s expression darkened drastically. He was frowning at you, and you had never seen him like that before. No, not just frowning, but scowling. 

Your shirt was torn off before you could even register what was happening. 

“You said it yourself,” remarked Keigo, towering above you as he kept you pinned with his legs. A smile was creeping back on his lips. “I’ve been so nice to you. But I think I’ve been too nice. I think it’s time for me to take what I want.”

Keigo grabbed at the rest of your clothes and dragged them off of you, leaving you exposed beneath him. Then he undid his own pants and let himself spring free.

Slowly, all while looking down at his captive, Keigo used a hand to pump his throbbing cock. Reaching, he took one of your hands and wrapped it around his length, holding it there as he leaned down to bring his face right against yours.

“This is exactly what you want, you little tease,” he whispered harshly. With his other hand, he plunged two fingers inside you, feeling as your walls became slick and clenched around him.  “I know you do.”

Smiling wide, Keigo straightened up. With his hands, he pushed your arms to either side of your head and pressed them against the sand. With his tongue, he trailed up and along your body from hip to breast, making you squirm. He was marking you as his, showing that he owned and could do whatever he wanted with you.

“Keigo, stop!” you cried once again, trying to look anywhere but up at him.

“No,” he growled. “This time, I won’t.”

He slammed his cock straight into your core, making you cry out in shock and pain. 

“Quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us!” Keigo taunted.

He thrust into you again, this time only eliciting a whimper. Keigo’s own unrestrained grunts and moans mixed with the sound of the waves against the beach as he continued at his frantic pace. After a few minutes, he regained his composure and looked down, where you were trying to shrink into the sand beneath him.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Keigo crooned. “You know I really do love you, and I promised I’d make you feel good, too.”

Using a wing to continue holding your arm in place, Keigo brought one of his hands up to his mouth and gave two fingers a scandalous lick. He never stopped looking down at you as he did so, an amused little look flashing across his face as you shivered at the sight. He brought the hand down between your legs, and began to rub slow circles around your clit, his saliva mixing with the wetness that already coated you. Involuntarily, you let out a moan.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he coaxed. He began to pump his cock in and out of you again, slowly this time. “Show me how much you want this.”

Not letting up, Keigo leaned down to use his mouth on you as well, biting and licking at your collar bones. He picked up his pace steadily. Your hands remained pinned, and all you could do was writhe under the onslaught of his touch. 

His fingers were rough, and they grazed your clit relentlessly, sending shocks up your sides. You could feel a coil winding deep in your stomach, and despite yourself, you were desperate for a release. Keigo could feel you tightening around him as he neared his own climax.

Forgetting the restraints, Keigo shot up and pulled you with him, continuing to pound into you while on his knees. With your hips raised in the air, Keigo kept the pressure of his fingers on your most sensitive spot, sending you past the point of no return.

As he felt your walls clenching, he growled into the night:

“Tell me who makes you feel this fucking good!”

“K-Keigo!” you screamed, your body convulsing as you reached your climax.

“That’s right,�� he grunted, slamming you both down into the sand again. “And it’s because you’re mine. All. Mine.”

At these words, you felt his cum gushing into you, making you flush from head to toe. He held his arms around you tightly as he rode out his own high, moaning in a gravelly, guttural voice.

The night was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of heavy breaths and crashing waves to echo off the beach as Keigo remained poised above you.

Finally, as his panting slowed, Keigo spoke.

“We should probably get comfortable, chickadee. It might be a long while before they find us.”

[i-like-plan-m]

the wind on another star

[On Ao3]

Lan Zhan wondered if pirates, of all things, were going to succeed where dozens of far superior fighters had tried and failed to kill him before.

The wide open void of space mocked him. Millions of escape routes within sight, and all worthless to him with a sabotaged hyperdrive and navigation system. The Hanguang-Jun was stranded in the middle of nowhere and caught in the crosshairs of a rather established band of mercenaries who doubled as pirates when they were between paid jobs.

Lan Zhan stood at the helm of his wounded starship and watched the empty escape pods drift away with so much fury he half expected them to explode.

Su She had conned his way onto Lan Zhan’s ship, hacked the navigation controls to drop them out of hyperspace and straight into the heart of a company of heavily armed mercenaries, and taken the only escape pod that he hadn’t already ejected into space.

Lan Zhan’s crew was trapped. Lan Zhan was trapped-- his ship’s weapon systems were mostly offline, brought partially back to life only by Lan Jingyi’s sheer desperation and skill. It wasn’t nearly enough to keep a dozen fighter planes and two cruisers at bay.

“Ambush,” Mianmian said tightly from beside him. “This was carefully planned, Captain.”

“What did we ever do to piss off these guys?” Lan Jingyi asked over the open comms, an edge of panic to his voice that made Lan Zhan’s mouth twist. It was his fault that his cousin was here in the first place, after all; he’d offered him a position on his ship due in part to Lan Jingyi’s skills and also to get him out of Lan Qiren’s hair. Apparently a too-clever, loud mouthed teenager trapped in the peaceful City of Clouds in Gusu had driven everyone up the wall.

He’d reminded Lan Zhan of Wei Ying-- the irrepressible character, the frequent mischief, a voice that ricocheted off of steel walls like a blaster shot. He was joy and humor and noise, a welcome change from the solemn silence aboard the Hanguang-Jun. It made him think of things loved and lost, bittersweet memories that perhaps made him more lenient with Lan Jingyi than his family would approve of.

And Lan Zhan had brought him straight into a trap, likely to be picked off by power hungry mercenaries or held as a hostage.

Even as the thought crossed his mind, the control panel beeped urgently, warning him that the cruisers had locked their missiles onto the Hanguang-Jun.

So they had decided to kill him after all.

His brother would be devastated, Lan Zhan thought distantly.

“I’ve still got the sonics,” Mianmian said, strapping herself into the copilot’s seat and reaching for the weapons controls. As his security expert and weapons master, Mianmian had seen them through insurmountable odds before; she remained as cool as ever under the flashing red warning lights. “I can pick off the missiles as they come, unless they unload several at once on us.”

“Can we use them to hit first?” Lan Jingyi asked, breathing heavily as he worked in the overheated mechanical room. “No one in the galaxy can counter Lan sonic tech.”

“They’re out of range,” Mianmian said regretfully.

“They haven’t attempted to hail us?” Lan Zhan asked, staring the largest cruiser down as it loomed over them in a blatant attempt to intimidate them. He suspected there was more at play here-- cruisers like this cost serious money, and even if simple mercenary crews got their hands on one, they didn’t keep them long. But two? Lan Zhan knew a set up when he saw it.

Lan Jingyi-- their mechanic and communications officer, because he was “skilled like that”-- made a sound of disgust. “No. So much for intergalactic law, right?”

“So many for just us,” Mianmian said, scowling out the front shield. “That’s half a damn army out there.”

The Hanguang-Jun had a reputation, though. Lan Zhan and his tiny crew went where the chaos was, and recently they’d taken on a number of jobs that had required the full force of their combined skill and strategy to survive. Except they’d not only survived, they’d demolished multiple bands of the rogue mercenaries that wandered the galaxy, terrorizing the helpless colonies too small or poor to defend themselves.

Someone had been paying attention, it seemed. And they had gone so far as to plant a spy-- Su She, hired only a week ago as extra support-- to lead them to an ambush in the middle of nowhere.

No one would know of their deaths for some time; the largest cruiser had an active jammer to block any distress signals, and Lan Zhan wasn’t due for a check in with his family for weeks.

He regretted the deaths of his crew. His friends. The loss his brother and uncle would soon face. And, privately, Lan Zhan regretted that he would never find Wei Ying. The bright, brilliant boy who’d vanished entirely after the Sunshot Wars, wherein the galaxy had come together to bring down Wen Ruohan before he could harness a sun’s energy to demolish entire planets.

So much left unsaid. But Wei Ying had broken the Wen remnants out of a prison world and disappeared into the darkness between the stars. No one knew where he’d gone. If he was alive. If they’d ever see him again.

Lan Zhan, it seemed, would never find out.

“Our shields?” He asked quietly, gripping the sleek rail separating the pilots’ seats from the rest of the control room so tightly his knuckles were white.

“In tatters,” Lan Jingyi said, trying to sound brave and landing somewhere around apprehensive. “I’m doing my best, Captain, but…”

“It’s alright,” Lan Zhan said gently. “We will try the sonic cannons.”

Mianmian’s eyes flickered to him, but she kept quiet. They both knew it would only take one missed shot to destroy their ship, and they were laughably outnumbered. But the comms were open and Lan Jingyi was listening intently from the engine room, so they kept their mutual understanding nonverbal.

“Well. It’s been an honor, Captain,” she murmured, too low for the comm line to pick up.

“For me as well,” Lan Zhan said, and dropped his hands to the pilot controls. He would try to help Mianmian dodge missiles as best he could, despite the futility of the situation.

The beeping became frantic, screaming in urgency as the second cruiser locked onto them. The cockpit was dim, lit only by the flashing warning lights that cast them in hues of red.

They waited, braced for the first burst of light that would signal a dispatched missile, surrounded on all sides, caught in a killing field with no way out.

Three bright souls on the cusp of darkness, facing a death that would leave them floating adrift in the eternal expanse of space. Not so terrible an end, he supposed, for a crew of wayfarers.

Mianmian suddenly jerked in place. “What the...?”

Lan Zhan’s attention snapped to her, wondering if he’d missed the beginning of the execution. He followed her baffled gaze, and then froze at the sight of a mid-sized, battered red cruiser dropping out of hyperspace, right on top of the armada.

He knew that cruiser. Had seen it only once, when a small collection of Wen prisoners had boarded it in the midst of a fierce storm with a slender, defiant figure guarding their escape.

The Yílíng Lǎozǔ drifted casually along, drawing the attention of the armada when its heavy artillery cannons dropped into active position. Half of the mercenaries turned their starships around to face the new threat.

“Is that who I think it is?” Mianmian whispered. Lan Zhan could not answer, though the hope in her voice matched the rising sun of his own.

“Is what who you think it is? What’s happening?” Lan Jingyi asked. They didn’t answer, too focused on the Yílíng Lǎozǔ and its unhurried course through the mercenaries’ ranks. Neither took much notice when he skidded into the cockpit to join them, breathing hard with wide, fever-bright eyes.

MianMian made a noise low in her throat when one of the cruisers disengaged their missile lock and turned it onto the Yílíng Lǎozǔ. “They’re going to get blown into pieces, why aren’t they moving out of range?”

Lan Zhan didn’t even notice the moment he stood, so tense his bones felt as though they’d shatter into pieces at a single touch. Wei Ying, what are you doing?

As if in answer, the largest cruiser angled to give chase to the Yílíng Lǎozǔ-- and exploded so abruptly and violently that Lan Zhan nearly staggered back in shock. Mianmian swore in mingled fear and delight, and Lan Jingyi exclaimed similar feelings at the top of his lungs.

“They dropped mines, did you see that?” She asked, leaning forward with bright eyes. “Completely off the radar-- we didn’t get so much as a blip, and this radar’s the only damn thing that is working on this ship.”

“Wei Ying has always been inventive,” Lan Zhan said, chest tight with something huge and undefinable.

“Fucking brilliant is what he is,” Mianmian said, and then made a face. “Don’t you dare tell him I said that.”

That implied Lan Zahn was going to see him, which promptly overrode every other thought in his head and made him feel as though he’d been struck in the head with a Lan sonic cannon.

Debris from the destroyed cruiser littered the battlefield, briefly hiding the Yílíng Lǎozǔ from sight.

“They won’t fall for that trick twice,” Mianmian muttered, leaning forward. “Careful, now.”

And then, so suddenly Lan Zhan and Mianmian made twin noises of shock, the starships closest to the Hanguang-Jun exploded. He thought at first it was another trick with the mines, but--

A ripple of darkness rocketed past the nose of their ship, far too fast to track. It was utterly undetectable except for the trail of destruction it left behind. The starship moved at impossible speeds; not even the Nie’s most advanced fighters could move like that, and they were the foremost engineers in the galaxy.

It took another moment, during which starships blew up like a pre-planned chain reaction, for Lan Zhan to realize there were two of these ships-- starfighters, combat aircraft built for speed and stealth. They worked off of each other like they were a hive mind, targeting clusters of enemy ships and annihilating them with some unknown invisible weapon that pulverized the ships into fragments.

A series of explosions along the remaining cruiser nearly tore it in half. Lan Jingyi whooped as it careened wildly out of control and erupted into blinding light.

Lan Zhan’s focus, though, was drawn inexplicably to the shimmer of darkness flitting through the ranks of the armada, slipping into impossibly narrow spaces, performing acrobatics that only someone absolutely fearless would even dream of.

Wei Ying had always taken “attempt the impossible” to heart.

“Look!” Lan Jingyi exclaimed, pointing outside their windshield to a furrow in the black void of space. A third ship, this one hovering just beside the Hanguang-Jun as a clear threat-- come any closer, and you’d be decimated like the rest of the ruined armada. Lan Jingyi waved, and the ripple of black dipped low and then back into place.

“What kind of weapon is that?” Mianmian wondered, watching in awe as a single shot from one of Wei Ying’s starfighters dissolved a starship into particles.

Lan Zhan remembered Wei Ying’s theories on dark matter, and he wondered.

It did not take long for the battle to end. None of the ships even had a chance to escape, and any that tried were chased down within a few heartbeats and destroyed.

The communications system blipped as the two starfighters finished off the remaining enemies. Lan Jingyi looked at Lan Zhan in question, who nodded and waited for him to open the channel to say, “This is Lan Zhan, Captain of the Hanguang-Jun.”  

“Hello, Captain,” someone replied. A young man, by the sounds of it, and politely cheerful. “Our captain has asked me to escort you to the Yílíng Lǎozǔ, if you are amenable.”

That was almost certainly not the way Wei Ying had likely worded it. Lan Zhan found himself wanting to smile. “I am amenable,” he said. “My ship is badly damaged and in need of repair.”

“We can help with that,” the boy replied, and was then interrupted by a voice that made Lan Zhan’s stomach swoop violently.

“Lan Zhan! Are you really going to let me put my grubby hands all over your shiny ship?”

He closed his eyes, emotion swelling in his chest. “Wei Ying can put his hands on anything of mine he wishes,” he said calmly, and meant every word.

He heard a squawk, a faint crash followed by an angry beep, and then a third voice calling in concern, “Wei-gongzi!”

“I’m fine, Wen Ning,” Wei Ying said hastily. Lan Zhan eyed the small piece of debris spinning away into the void, as though it had been clipped by the wing of a starfighter, perhaps.

“Ah,” Wei Ying laughed. “Lan Zhan, I didn’t expect you to have jokes now! I’ve missed a lot, it seems.”

“I have missed more.” Too much, if Wei Ying had made advancements like this; he’d clearly discovered some secret to the universe and left the rest of them far behind.

Lan Zhan had let him slip between his fingers once before. He was tired of being left behind.

“Wen Qing is bringing the Yílíng Lǎozǔ to you,” Wei Ying said with more warmth than Lan Zhan deserved. He had, after all, let Wei Ying down all those years ago. “I’ll see you soon, Lan Zhan.”

“Soon,” Lan Zhan agreed, and let the comm line fall to silence.

Soon. He felt his heart skip a beat in anticipation. Soon he would be face to face with Wei Ying again, the boy he’d loved and lost before he truly understood the potential for what it was, too busy being offended by the concept of his own stupid infatuation.

Soon, Lan Zhan thought again, and his tiny, hopeful smile was witnessed solely by the blanket of darkness and the glittering, luminous lights of a nearby star. A secret of his own, held between him and a universe full of possibility.

[rwbyconversations]

I'd like to elaborate on why I didn't like Ultimatium beyond just what's happening with Ironwood's character. This isn't just a case of "Well the episode did this one thing bad so 2/10." There's still other content here that just doesn't work when you look at it.

Monstra getting taken out by Oscar is a huge anticlimax. All the time and effort to make this beast, to have it breach Atlas, all the work to get inside and plant a bomb to destroy it... and it just dies because Oscar pokes it really hard. It's narratively unsatisfying for Monstra's death to just be "Oscar took it out," with what seems to be such a clean result in favor of the heroes, and it has yet another Grimm job. I'm not Ruby had to SEW it with her eyes, but it feels like another case of "Oscar doing something a member of Team RWBY probably should have done instead" like being the liaison between Ironwood and the heroes in Volume 7. As-is, the usage of the cane feels like a Deus Ex Machina similar to Willow handing Weiss the evidence to arrest Jacques- it's just here to erase a villain so we can narrow focus for the final third.

Oscar's spell also has inconsistent power since it seems to be like a SEW blast in that it only targeted Grimm. No building damage, no one in the blast radius besides maybe Hazel was hurt? Jaune even found time to regain some Aura so he could boost Oscar back up. If it's kinetic energy then it shouldn't discriminate, but... everyone's just fine. If the blast could specifically avoid structural damage or innocent casualties, why didn't Ozpin use it to stop Cinder and the Wyvern at Beacon?

Can we talk about how weaksauce the Atlas Invasion arc in general was? We got like four minutes of content out of it and none of it was exactly the Battle of Helms Deep. It didn't have any real stakes to it and what little we saw wasn't executed efficiently.

I'm pretty sure they retconned Ozpin's cane here. Back in Volume 3's commentary it was expressly said that the cane "Stored time," but here Oscar phrases it as stockpiling kinetic energy. Which means that Ozma's biggest trump card is just... effectively an epilepsy warning version of Yang and Adam's Semblances.

So the episode after Oscar makes a big deal out of how every time he uses magic it amplifies the merge with Ozpin, Oscar unleashes all of the energy in the Long Memory, a massive spell with enough power to erase Salem temporarily... and he's exactly the same. Maybe a bit more empathic? Not getting the sense yet that the merge moved along after Oscar cast that spell.

Ruby, Weiss and Blake sat out the entire invasion of Atlas. They were in the Manor before Salem landed, they had tea while the fight went on and they only left for a few minutes when the Hound went after Penny. It wasn't even going after them because Ruby was a Silver Eyed Warrior, she was just in the way and had Penny's blood on her. Had Penny not landed outside the house, RWB would have had nothing to do between arriving at the Manor and JORY's arrival besides helping Whitley send out the drone ships. Weiss at least got some character stuff with Whitley and her mom, but Ruby and Blake got nothing to do all season as a consequence. It's the Haven House all over again in regards to how it utterly stifles half our protagonists- and this is coming off a year where RWBY already had very little to do. This combined with Oscar taking out Monstra is painting an unflattering picture that Oscar is slowly subsuming RWBY out of the protagonist role. He's inarguably one of the MC's of the entire story now, whereas RWBY themselves feel like... supporting mains. They feel like the JNPR to his RWBY.

Why is Blake so hesitant to meet with Yang? Was there an argument between the two that got cut and her awkwardness at the start of the reunion is a leftover from that?

I won't make a sweeping claim like this episode is fundamentally broken, but Ultimatium proves to be a big piece of evidence for my core theory that Volume 8 is looking like a retread of V7 in regards to being a flawed season, but while 7 had genuinely good content to soften the impact, 8 has none of 7′s redeeming qualities. It’s my new least favorite season since 5.