#that's probably what this would be called if anyone else shipped it right? sure

[total-mkulia]

This one super got away from me to the point idk how I even feel about it but hopefully people will see my vision

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Why I don't think Harry actually likes Ginny

So, I don't like Hinny. I don't buy the relationship between them for multiple reasons. The first of which is that I believe Harry Potter is gay (or at least, not attracted to women).

The rest, I'm going to cover here. Some of the opinions I have are probably not very popular, but I'm saying what I see evidence for.

Disclaimer: No hate to anyone who does ship Hinny, or likes Ginny, I just don't see it.

He doesn't actually think about her until book 6... like, at all

The most important part of this section is actually what Hary doesn't say about Ginny and not what he does, so I don't have quotes. But I literally scoured the books to find scenes Harry described Ginny's appearance. I looked for words like: "pretty", "beautiful", "attractive", or anything else, really any detailed description that would show he is physically attracted to her. I came out with nothing.

He never calls her pretty or attractive in all seven books. And I mentioned in my post here, how Harry can and does describe attractiveness in people (men) he finds attractive.

The other thing he never mentions is what he likes about Ginny. Like, her personality.

He says he likes her, and he's jealous when she's with Dean in HBP (only halfway through the book, but that's for later in this post), but he never mentions what he likes about her. Ginny talks about why she likes Harry plenty, but Harry seems to have no clue why he's dating Ginny. He supposedly likes her, but doesn't name in his head a single thing he likes about her as a person. The things he does think he likes about her are:

She is comfortable to be around, the same way Ron and Hermoine are.

She doesn't weep like Cho.

She's good at Quidditch.

So that's a brilliant basis for a relationship right there. (sarcasm)

“Harry, I’m talking to you, can you hear me?” “Huh?” He looked around. Ginny Weasley, looking very windswept, had joined him at the library table where he had been sitting alone. It was late on Sunday evening; Hermione had gone back to Gryffindor Tower to review Ancient Runes; Ron had Quidditch practice.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 655)

Ginny approaches him, but nothing, no response, no care. He didn't even notice she was there. Takes him, like, three minutes to recall she's on the Quidditch team and should be at practice with Ron. And when she does talk to him, he actually doesn't explain the full truth. He never actually tells her the full scope of his problems and feelings.

“Hi,” said Ginny uncertainly. “We recognized Harry’s voice — what are you yelling about?” “Never you mind,” said Harry roughly. Ginny raised her eyebrows. “There’s no need to take that tone with me,” she said coolly. “I was only wondering whether I could help.” “Well, you can’t,” said Harry shortly. “You’re being rather rude, you know,” said Luna serenely. Harry swore and turned away. The very last thing he wanted now was a conversation with Luna Lovegood.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 735)

Later in the same book, Harry is downright rude to Ginny, and he's sure Sirius is being tortured at the moment, so I get it. But, also, the fact he reacts more to Luna telling him he's rude than to Ginny... like, that's telling on which of the two girls' opinions Harry cares more. And it's not Ginny. After Luna calls him out, he actually stops snapping at them. With Ginny, he just continued being snappy and rude to her.

“Michael — but —” said Ron, craning around in his seat to stare at her. “But you were going out with him!” “Not anymore,” said Ginny resolutely. “He didn’t like Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw at Quidditch and got really sulky, so I ditched him and he ran off to comfort Cho instead.” She scratched her nose absently with the end of her quill, turned The Quibbler upside down, and began marking her answers. Ron looked highly delighted. “Well, I always thought he was a bit of an idiot,” he said, prodding his queen forward toward Harry’s quivering castle. “Good for you. Just choose someone — better — next time.” He cast Harry an oddly furtive look as he said it. “Well, I’ve chosen Dean Thomas, would you say he’s better?” asked Ginny vaguely. “WHAT?” shouted Ron, upending the chessboard. Crookshanks went plunging after the pieces and Hedwig and Pigwidgeon twittered and hooted angrily from overhead. As the train slowed down in the approach to King’s Cross, Harry thought he had never wanted to leave it less. He even wondered fleetingly what would happen if he simply refused to get off, but remained stubbornly sitting there until the first of September, when it would take him back to Hogwarts.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 866)

Some like to say Hinny didn't come out of nowhere, but it did. It's clear that at the end of book 5 Harry doesn't give a shit who Ginny is dating. He's thinking about Sirius, he's mourning, of course, but he is still mourning him in book 6 and it didn't stop his jealous rage towards Dean then.

The fact is, up until like halfway through book 6 there are no signs he is interested in Ginny romanticly.

“Fancy trying to find a compartment?” “I can’t, Harry, I said I’d meet Dean,” said Ginny brightly. “See you later.” “Right,” said Harry. He felt a strange twinge of annoyance as she walked away, her long red hair dancing behind her; he had become so used to her presence over the summer that he had almost forgotten that Ginny did not hang around with him, Ron, and Hermione while at school. Then he blinked and looked around: He was surrounded by mesmerized girls.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 136)

Two notes here.

Firstly, this is at the beginning of HBP, still no signs from Harry of jealousy. He likes Ginny as a friend and gets used to her presence. That is literally what their relationship is built on. Him being used to her presence. Still, he doesn't care in the slightest who she is dating.

Secondly, what follows this scene is Harry running away from all his adoring fangirls with the help of Neville. Because Harry is not attracted to women and is not interested in any of their attention.

Harry told Ron and Hermione, pulling open the parchment and quickly reading its contents [note from Dumbledore]. “Monday evening!” He felt suddenly light and happy. “Want to join us in Hogsmeade, Ginny?” he asked. “I’m going with Dean — might see you there,” she replied, waving at them as she left.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 242)

Again, no jealousy. His entire problem with Dean and Ginny dating started really late into book 6 and there was basically no buildup.

Dean was looking embarrassed. He gave Harry a shifty grin that Harry did not return, as the newborn monster inside him was roaring for Dean’s instant dismissal from the team.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 287)

Now, I wanna talk a little bit about Harry's jealousy towards Dean and how he describes his emotions about Ginny. Ginny is the only character he describes his emotions about in this way. And it's... well, weird to say the least. Definitely off. The first time I read it I had to reread it to make sure I actually read it correctly.

Like, the only times he thinks about his emotions towards Ginny, are in jealousy. He doesn't like when other guys date her, but he never really thinks that he likes her, or what he likes about her. Or anything at all, positive or negative.

And, back to the description being odd, well, I'll get to it later in this post about why I think Harry convinced himself he likes Ginny and why his emotions about her are described the way they are.

Harry looked around; there was Ginny running toward him; she had a hard, blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that fifty people were watching, Harry kissed her.

...

The creature in his chest roaring in triumph, he grinned down at Ginny and gestured wordlessly out of the portrait hole. A long walk in the grounds seemed indicated, during which — if they had time — they might discuss the match.

(Half-Blood Prince, pages 533-534)

I want to talk about Harry's feelings regarding Ginny and kissing her, or, well, lack of their off. You know, after a first kiss, with a girl he supposedly likes, I expected something more emotional, more involved. I expect him to actually care.

But no. He doesn't describe the kiss at all actually, or his feelings. There are no butterflies in his stomach, no head spinning, nothing. Just his chest monster feeling triumphant.

This is insane, this is not the reaction to kissing someone you like. Or even feel mildly attracted to. Where are the nerves and excitement? They aren't there.

He had more emotions about his first kiss with Cho. They weren't positive emotions, but these were emotions.

The second thing about their first kiss is how the text pretty clearly insinuates they made out throughout their whole walk. This actually reminds me a lot of Ron and Lavender in book 6:

“Well, think back,” said Harry. “Have you ever let it slip that you’d like to go out in public with the words ‘My Sweetheart’ round your neck?” “Well . . . we don’t really talk much,” said Ron. “It’s mainly . . .” “Snogging,” said Harry. “Well, yeah,” said Ron.

(Half-Blood Prince, page 338)

They don't really have much of a relationship. They make out, but they don't talk, they don't share anything with each other, they don't really like each other — they barely know each other.

Harry and Ginny are much the same. Ginny is in love with the idea of Harry Potter, and Harry for some reason decideded he likes Ginny even though he can't name a single personality trait she possesses.

“And then what does she think’s going to happen?” Harry muttered. “Someone else might kill off Voldemort while she’s holding us here making vol-auvents?” He had spoken without thinking, and saw Ginny’s face whiten. “So it’s true?” She said, “That’s what you’re trying to do?” “I—not—I was joking,” said Harry evasively. They stared at each other, and there was something more than shock in Ginny’s expression. Suddenly Harry became aware that this was the first time that he had been alone with her since their stolen hours in secluded corners of the Hogwarts grounds. He was sure she was remembering them too. Both of them jumped as the door opened, and Mr. Weasley, Kingsley, and Bill walked in.

(Deathly Hollows, page 82)

Like, there is quite a bit I want to unpack here.

Firstly, Harry didn't bother telling Ginny that he, Ron, and Hermione were planning on leaving. That they are going to go and stop Voldemort. Well, he didn't tell her about the Horcruxes, or any of his experiences, really. I don't think she knows he cast a Crocio at Bellatrix at the end of fifth year.

Like, Harry does not share his life with Ginny. At all. Her reaction is quite telling.

But also, even after he broke up with her already at the end of HBP. Still, Ginny is constantly trying to drag him back to be with her. She isn't letting Harry break up with her. And, that just really doesn't sit well with me. Harry didn't even consider it until he saw how Ginny was eying him, she's the one who thought they should make out. Harry was trying to stay broken up with her.

Ginny looked up into Harry’s face, took a deep breath, and said, “Happy seventeenth.” “Yeah. . . thanks.” She was looking at him steadily; he, however, found it difficult to look back at her; it was like gazing into a brilliant light.

...

He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful; that was one of the many wonderful things about Ginny, she was rarely weepy. He had sometimes thought that having six brothers must have toughened her up.

(Deathly Hollows, page 103)

Again, after Harry breaks up with her, she tries to drag him back. He doesn't want to look at her. And as romantic as "gazing into a brilliant light" sounds, usually doing that hurts your eyes and is really not something you want to do. Besides, when you really like someone, you want to look at them, you want to stare at their stupid face for as long as they let you.

Harry clearly doesn't.

The other thing to note about this passage is the wonderful thing Harry can name about Ginny, is that she never cries. Yes, amazing reason to date someone, Harry.

However, Ron did not appear on the map, and after a while Harry found himself taking it out simply to stare at Ginny’s name in the girls’ dormitory, wondering whether the intensity with which he gazed at it might break into her sleep, that she would somehow know he was thinking about her, hoping that she was all right.

(Deathly Hollows, page 270)

Even when pulling out the Marauder’s Map to watch her dot Harry's thoughts are just to make sure she's alright, the same reason he watches out for Ron on the map after he leaves them. Hoping to see he's alright. Harry would do it to any friend he felt strongly about, it's not just Ginny. She doesn't get special treatment in his mind.

Ginny Clearly likes him though, quite obsessively so, even as they grow older...

Ginny made it no secret she liked Harry in her first year with the Valentine's Day poem. The thing is, she never really stopped liking him, she didn't move on from that childhood crush. Quite the opposite actually.

“I never really gave up on you,” she said. “Not really. I always hoped. . . . Hermione told me to get on with life, maybe go out with some other people, relax a bit around you, because I never used to be able to talk if you were in the room, remember? And she thought you might take a bit more notice if I was a bit more — myself.” “Smart girl, that Hermione,” said Harry, trying to smile. “I just wish I’d asked you sooner. We could’ve had ages . . . months . . . years maybe. . . .” “But you’ve been too busy saving the Wizarding world,” said Ginny, half laughing. “Well . . . I can’t say I’m surprised. I knew this would happen in the end. I knew you wouldn’t be happy unless you were hunting Voldemort. Maybe that’s why I like you so much.”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 647)

Ginny says at the top of this quote something I already talked about, but I'll say it again. She never gave up on Harry, she thinks them ending up together is fate. And she dated other guys throughout her fourth and fifth year to get Harry to notice her.

That is so gross, I don't even know where to start. I mean, she used a bunch of random guys, who all liked her, only to get Harry. She didn't care about their feelings, or these guys as real human beings, just that they could help her get Harry. And that is awful and one of the reasons I dislike Ginny.

The second part I bolded is Ginny explaining again, that she knew she and Harry were fated — this isn't romantic, this is terrifying and paints all her previous relationships in a really bad light.

She also mentions there she likes Harry, and that she likes that he's this saviour who needs to hunt down Voldemort. Now, first, she is clearly in love with the idea of the Boy-Who-Lived, and not Harry himself, because what she likes about him is his nobility and savior complex. Not just here, but in general.

While Harry definitely is heroic, he is also cunning, and clever, has some serious anger management issues, and isn't as noble as Ginny likes to paint him as. I feel like, here, when she says what she likes about him, she doesn't really know him. Harry doesn't want to hunt down Voldemort, he feels it's his responsibility. He would've been happy to be able to live his life without them being threatened constantly.

His 'saving people thing' is because he considers endangering himself less bad than endangering someone else. That's his low self-esteem talking, not his thirst for adventure. That and his (honestly correct) conclusion that he can't count on the adults or other people to do what needs to be done. Also, his sense of responsibility due to the prophecy, which he didn't really tell Ginny about in full. the prophecy and Dumbledore made him feel Voldemort is his problem to solve. It's not that he's happy about it. Ginny is in love with an ideal, not with the actual Harry Potter.

(I'll get to Harry's words here later)

Ginny caught Harry’s eye and looked away quickly, grinning.

(Order of the Pheonix, page 848)

And when going back to Harry's fifth year, even then (while she technically has a boyfriend) she is trying to get Harry's attention and is flirting with him. Not that Harry notices it's flirting because he doesn't think of Ginny in that way.

But Ron held up a hand to silence her. “She was really cut up when you ended it—” “So was I. You know why I stopped it, and it wasn’t because I wanted to.” “Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she’s just going to get her hopes up again—” “She’s not an idiot, she knows it can’t happen, she’s not expecting us to—to end up married, or—”

(Deathly Hollows, page 104)

I mentioned it above, but Ginny is the one who dragged Harry to make out with her, it wasn't Harry who initiated it. She does this after Harry broke up with her, which... well... yeah. I mean, at least Harry was willing, right?

And Harry says she isn't thinking about marriage, but Ginny definitely is. Remember, she thinks they are fated to end up together.

Now, as to why Harry is dating her and thinks he likes her...

I think she might have used a love potion...

Now, I know, I know, honestly, this is a theory I doubted for a long time. I mean, there's no way.

But I'm rereading the books right now, and ehh... I think whoever came up with this might have been onto something. It's kind of creepy actually.

Mrs. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she’d made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 70)

Love potions are a thing in the Wizarding World. They are legal to sell and use with no consequences. They are banned at Hogwarts, but we saw it doesn't mean much considering Romilda Vane snuck quite a bit in...

What I show in the above quote is how witches like Molly Weasly see love potions as a legitimate thing to giggle about. As if it isn't a horrifying rape drug that takes away someone's autonomy! Love potions aren't something to giggle about. And they're definitely not something to giggle about with two young girls...

But this is to explain, how to Ginny, who thinks she and Harry are meant to end up together, using a love potion would seem completely legitimate. It's a little, funny nudge, but it's not bad. Her mother used it, and so many other girls did too. Because it isn't treated as the horrifying thing it is. She grew up thinking of it as a legitimate measure to take if a boy you like doesn't notice you. A measure that she wouldn't be even punished for if it was found out.

Now, this is a long quote, but this is the one that made me even consider this theory as a possibility:

She hoisted a box wrapped in brown paper onto the table; it had clearly been unwrapped and carelessly rewrapped, and there was a scribbled note across it in red ink, reading inspected and passed by the hogwarts high inquisitor. “It’s Easter eggs from Mum,” said Ginny. “There’s one for you. . . . There you go. . . .” She handed him a handsome chocolate egg decorated with small, iced Snitches and, according to the packaging, containing a bag of Fizzing Whizbees. Harry looked at it for a moment, then, to his horror, felt a hard lump rise in his throat. “Are you okay, Harry?” asked Ginny quietly. “Yeah, I’m fine,” said Harry gruffly. The lump in his throat was painful. He did not understand why an Easter egg should have made him feel like this. “You seem really down lately,” Ginny persisted. “You know, I’m sure if you just talked to Cho . . .” “It’s not Cho I want to talk to,” said Harry brusquely. “Who is it, then?” asked Ginny. “I . . .” He glanced around to make quite sure that nobody was listening; Madam Pince was several shelves away, stamping out a pile of books for a frantic-looking Hannah Abbott. “I wish I could talk to Sirius,” he muttered. “But I know I can’t.” More to give himself something to do than because he really wanted any, Harry unwrapped his Easter egg, broke off a large bit, and put it into his mouth. “Well,” said Ginny slowly, helping herself to a bit of egg too, “if you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it. . . .” “Come on,” said Harry hopelessly. “With Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?” “The thing about growing up with Fred and George,” said Ginny thoughtfully, “is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.” Harry looked at her. Perhaps it was the effect of the chocolate — Lupin had always advised eating some after encounters with dementors — or simply because he had finally spoken aloud the wish that had been burning inside him for a week, but he felt a bit more hopeful. . . .

(Order of the Pheonix, page 655)

Now, Harry, first, gets really weird about the Easter Egg. Why an Easter Egg would cause a lump in his throat, I have no idea. Maybe it smelled weird?

He didn't really want to eat the chocolate, he felt bad about it, which is again, very strange phrasing. especially as I think Harry's instincts are pretty decent, especially when it comes to potential danger. Ginny isn't mentioned eating from his chocolate, she's implied to be eating a different chocolate egg.

But the final section I bolded is the one I really want to talk about.

Harry didn't even notice Ginny approach him. Throughout this scene, he doesn't describe anything about her or his emotions for her. Then, he looks at her and feels more hopeful in a way he hasn't before, and he blames it on the chocolate. That's so incredibly strange.

So I read that, then read it again, and started thinking a love potion might be a possibility.

It'll explain why Harry thinks he likes Ginny and wants to make out with her, without once mentioning he finds her attractive, or that he even likes her personality. It'll also explain the weird way Harry describes his emotions for Ginny, his chest monster, that is. I mean, I believe Harry is gay, what do you think happens when you give a guy who literally can't find you attractive a love potion so he'd like you? He reacts weirdly. His like of you is off and unnatural and disconnected because he isn't affecting him the way it should.

Even when Ron was dosed with the love potion he could name things the potion made him like about Romilda:

“I love her,” repeated Ron breathlessly. “Have you seen her hair, it’s all black and shiny and silky . . . and her eyes? Her big dark eyes? And her —”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 392)

It's not like Ron could say what he liked about Romilda's personality though, he just knew he needed to be with her and she was perfect. This is frighteningly similar to how Harry thinks of Ginny.

Harry watches for Ginny on the map while traveling in Deathly Hollows. He's constantly drawn to her, but he doesn't have any actual feelings towards her. He wants to marry her but has no clue what her personality is like. He just thinks Ginny is great without knowing why.

Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermione and Ginny both hung back, looking wary. “There you go,” said Fred proudly. “Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere.” Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Do they work?” she asked. “Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question —”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 120)

Now, after the above scene in book 5 which I believe is the first time Ginny tries to dose Harry with a love potion, Harry still isn't dating Ginny, as we all know. What do we see Ginny do early in book 6, the book in which they get together? Try to buy a love potion from Fred and George.

And more importantly, she asks them: "Do they work?"

Why would Ginny ask that if she hadn't already failed with a love potion before?

I think, Harry's not being attracted to women, does affect how love potions effect him and the dosages he will need to be fed. And Ginny clearly isn't giving up on Harry. She said so herself — they were fated.

“Hang on,” said a voice close by Harry’s left ear and he caught a sudden waft of that flowery smell he had picked up in Slughorn’s dungeon. He looked around and saw that Ginny had joined them. “Did I hear right? You’ve been taking orders from something someone wrote in a book, Harry?”

(Half-Blood Prince, page 192)

One of the only things Harry comments about in regarding Ginny is her smell. He only mentions it from year 6 and onwards.

Now, I know JKR intended it to imply Harry smelled Ginny in amortentia and that he's in love with her. The thing is, it could just as easily be read as a smell he associates with Ginny and the Burrow because she dosed him with a love potion already. So he is used to smelling amortentia around Ginny and the Burrow, not because he's in love with her, but because the potion is there.

“There’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for,” she whispered, and then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him before, and Harry was kissing her back, and it was blissful oblivion better than firewhisky; she was the only real thing in the world, Ginny, the feel of her, one hand at her back and one in her long, sweet-smelling hair—

(Deathly Hollows, page 103)

When she kisses him after he broke up with her and she's trying to get him back, he mentions the smell of her hair again. How the smell is actually affecting him.

With all the evidence towards Harry not liking women, and the fact he doesn't even find Ginny attractive, I just have a hard time believing this. How can he go from coldly not caring about her in one scene to going into blissful oblivion from the smell of her hair?

Unless there is some variant of a love potion he is getting dosed with.

(I don't think this is a very popular opinion, but there is just so much that's weird about Hinny, that I can't find any other way to explain it in canon)

[starlightazriel]

bee 2

desc: (fem reader) modern au best friends to lovers, roommate az, angsty + smutty, multiple parts (not sure how many yet at least 5)

warnings: 18+, drug/alcohol abuse, reader being self concious, jealous az, SEXUAL TENSIonnn, sex dream

wc: 4.1k

other parts will be found on my azriel masterlist

two

I was completely mortified. I could hear Azriel getting ready for the beach in the morning, and no matter how badly I had to pee I refused to exit my room. There was no way I could face him yet.

I hadn't even known how long he had been standing there. Had he heard me moan his name?

I watched my door, listening waiting to hear the front door swing shut. I see darkness under my door and i bite my lip knowing he's standing on the other side.

Don't knock, don't knock, don't knock.

The house was so quiet I could hear him sigh before walking away from my door and I finally heard the front door close.

My phone chimes a moment later as I walk to the bathroom and my stomach churns when I see Azriels name pop up on the screen. i know you worked late i didn't want to wake you up. you gonna come out to the house when you get up?

I swallowed locking my phone again, I'd respond later.

I couldn't stop thinking about what was going through Azriels head. He was probably judging me. I used the bathroom and went back to my room, staring at myself in the mirror. I felt so ashamed, what kind of person just did that in someone else's bed?

I groaned to myself falling back on my bed pressing my hands into my face. He probably thought that I was obsessed with him now. 'your bed is comfortable?' Thats what I had come up with?

And the women he hooked up with? The ones he would meet in bars or bring home from clubs... They just weren't like me. Even though he never really had anything serious except once or twice, his ex girlfriends? All older than him, seasoned, sometimes even married.

It had been near impossible to focus on any homework or studying I hadn't texted Azriel back, hoping he would just leave it alone thinking I was just busy with school work.

My phone chimes with another text, the afternoon sun was peeking through my curtains, I knew I should get up and get out of the house.

kats looking for you. you should get outside you been in all day.

i have a lot of homework azriel I squinted, looking down at the text I had just sent. Since when did I become so formal with him?

please..for me?

My heart leapt and I read the words over and over, pulling my lip between my teeth. Another message popped up.

and for kat? she's begging over my shoulder and she wants me to tell you her phones dead and that's why she hasn't called herself

I sighed softly, that seems more like it, not for Azriel. For Kat, who probably was telling him what to say.

Kat and I had been fast friends ever since Rhys hired her into the shop, she was an aspiring tattoo artist working out her days at the front desk until she was ready to start her apprenticeship. Our friend ship was easy, she was one of the first female friends that I had ever had in my life that I actually trusted.

She sort of knew about my feelings for Azriel, maybe not the extent, but she knew. It wasnt that hard for anyone to figure it out with the way that I looked at him. Anyone except for him, I guessed. Kat had blatantly asked me about it one day, I remembered blushing furiously and staring down at my drink which had been answer enough for her. She pushed me to make a move for a while and eventually gave up, realizing that I would never grow the confidence or the balls to actually do anything about it.

okay give me twenty I finally responded after a long few minutes of debating wether or not I could handle that right now after what had happened yesterday. It had barely even been twenty four hours.

I shake my head, looking at myself in the mirror again, I looked horrible. My hair was messy and I had dark circles under my eyes from working late and not being able to sleep.

I at least had to shower and blow dry my hair. I couldn't show up looking like this. Even if the fate that awaited me was bound to be relentless torture until I was back in the safe confines of my room. Would Azriel even speak to me in person? I wasnt sure I wanted him to, the embarrassment of what he had caught me doing was enough let alone the fact that he had now seen me completely naked. In broad daylight at that. I didnt look like the thinner taller women that Az usually went for, so when I fantasized about what our first time could be like, the lights were always off.

"You're an idiot," I told my reflection, freshly showered and at least a little more presentable. I put on my cream colored string bikini, some shorts, and tied a hoodie around my shoulders, knowing that soon it would be cold on the beach with the evening approaching, I wouldn't stay that long, but just in case. "Azriels probably going to disown you and kick you out of his apartment as soon as he realizes youre a creepy little fuck that's obsessed with him," I added, grimacing at my expression. "And now youre an idiot who's talking to yourself," I groaned again, wishing I could be anywhere else, or anybody else.

-

"Where's your mind been at today?" Rhys asks, plopping down in the sand next to Azriel on the outskirts of the group. They had a fire going the group was lively, Kat dancing to the music that Rhys had put on, Cassian watching, a beer in hand talking to Riley, their newest tattoo artist at the shop. Cass and Azriel himself weren't exactly a fan of the guest artist but what Rhys said they had to go with, as the owner of the shop, he always had the final say. Azriel shrugged, taking a long sip of his drink, his eyes flicking to Rhys.

"Just didnt sleep much," he responds, leaning back into the sand.

"Y/n!" Kat screams then, Azriels eyes land on Bee in the distance, Kat running for her full bore. He swallowed hard watching as they stop a little ways from the outskirts of the rest of the group, his eyes raking over Bees body clad in a little bikini. Her eyes land on his too, for a moment, they quickly dart nervously back to Kat. Azriel wondered what she was thinking, he wondered if she would approach him or ignore him all night.

"The fucking tits on her, you pierced those Cass? What kind of nipples does she have?" Rileys voice interrupted Azriels thoughts and he felt his mouth go dry, his entire body tensing.

"Careful," Cassian warned him, knowing exactly how Azriel could be when anyone disrespected Bee, but now it felt different for Azriel. It wasnt just about feeling the need to protect her, he felt... Jealous. "You know that's classified, client confidentiality," Cass smirked and his eyes drifted over to Azriel who was now completely seething. Who the fuck did Riley even think he was?

"She's off limits," Azriel simply says, trying to mask his tone the best he could from the growl that threatened to slip out.

"Says who, you? She's grown," Riley rises to his feet to greet the pair. Azriel can't bring himself to peel his eyes away.

"I'll fuck him up Rhys," Azriel threatened, his beer forgotten in the sand as he watched the three of them closely.

"I got a good lawyer for you when you do," Cass snickers softly, standing to grab himself another beer from the cooler.

"No ones fighting," Rhys says, glancing between the two of them before rolling his eyes. "Why you so touchy tonight Az?" he just shakes his head, trying his best to tear his eyes away.

"I told you, Im just tired," he stood up, brushing the sand off of himself and advances to monitor the situation.

-

No, no, no no. Don't come over here. Not so soon. I felt like I was going to pass out when I saw Azriel advancing toward us. Kat was annoyed by Rileys approach because she had been trying to figure out why I showed up so late and to ask what had happened yesterday because all I had done was send her 'I need to go live under a rock and die' without any further explanation.

"Bee, you finally left your homework," Azriel speaks, standing directly next to Riley who he'd interrupted, not that I had been listening, I had been internally panicked about this exact moment.

"Well- I um- yeah I got what I needed to done," I lied awkwardly, struggling to get a single word out underneath Az's blatant stare. When had he ever looked at me like that? My gut churned at the thought of what he might actually be thinking. Kat looked between the two of us, squinting, her lips pursing together slightly. She knew she had missed something. He glanced at Riley, annoyance flashing in his eyes and then back at me, I could tell he wanted to say something.

"I can tell you are both dying to get her alone, but I need her first," Kats words had me blushing furiously. Both of them? Dying to get me alone? What was she even thinking? Riley maybe, as he always seemed to flirt with me anytime I would drop by the shop or find myself hanging out with them when Kat or Azriel gave me an invite. But I was almost positive the last thing that Azriel wanted was to be alone with me, maybe to tell me to pack my shit and go. I opened my mouth to say something along the lines of telling her to shut up but she was dragging me away toward the house, away from the beach and the fire they had going. I wondered what the guys were saying, glancing over my shoulder as we walked toward the wrap around porch overlooking the beach. Azriel and Riley were standing there talking now, it looked heated.

"What's going on with you two? Azriel has barely said a word all day and you can't even look him in the face when he shows up," she eyes me, a small smirk threatening at her lips. "You finally fucked him didnt you?" her smirk breaks out in a grin and I pale slightly, falling back into one of the patio chairs.

"I wish. It's bad," I groan, pressing my hands into my face. I didnt even know how to tell her what had happened. I knew it would sound so much worse out loud.

"Im dying to know, you have to tell me," she giggles quietly, her already bubbly voice enhanced with her drunken state.

"He caught me using my vibrator in his room Kat. Im fucking done for," my voice is so quiet that if it wasnt for her laugh I would have thought she didnt even hear me.

"Girl that's crazy. Shit, you have more balls than I thought, maybe more than me," her hand flies to her mouth, my cheeks warm with embarrassment.

"Kat its not funny. I just single handedly destroyed any chance I ever have for him to see me as anything more than the stupid little immature little girl that hes always had to look after," my face is covered by my hands again, and I suddenly wished that I had never even come here.

"You never know y/n," Kat said and I pulled my hands away to look at her. "Maybe this will finally make him realize how much of a woman you've grown into," she added, I swallowed, considering as I looked out to the beach and the water, the boys were sitting around the fire smoking now, laughter could be heard in the distance but I didnt hear Azriels and I paled when I noticed him walking toward the house.

"Hes coming," Kat squeaks out giggling softly and standing up.

"Don't leave me here," I begged quietly, it felt like a rock was forming in the pit of my stomach. She only flashed me a devilish grin before turning around.

"Oh good Az, you can keep y/n company while I get our drinks," Kat threw me one more glance and winked in encouragement, I threw her daggers in response and I suddenly felt naked as Azriel took a seat across from me. The air was cooler now, the sunset quickly approaching. Azriels eyes flicked to my chest, my nipples showing through the thin fabric and his throat bobbed his eyes quickly flicking to mine and I averted my gaze. I couldn't remember him ever looking at me this much.

"Hey," he cleared his throat, and I look at him again, hes blushing. Maybe he was just as embarrassed as I was.

"Um hi," I smile weakly, a blush creeping onto my own cheeks, it was unbearably awkward and I would have to get back at Kat for this some way later.

"So..." he started and I silently begged to any existing higher power to please not let him bring up yesterday. "Are you going to tell me why you were in my room?" he finally said, and I felt my gut reel, wishing a hole would open in the earth beneath me and swallow me up. I shifted in my seat, our eyes met again and there was something new there but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"I told you... Your bed is comfortable," my voice is strained and I felt hot, I wished for him to stop looking at me like that. I couldn't handle his intense stare, I fought the urge to put my hoodie on. He raised his eyebrows, leaning back in his seat, amusement twinkled in his eyes.

"So that's what youre going with?" he cocked his head slightly, tipping his chin up. He was drunk maybe a little high too, I could tell by the way he carried himself, the slight slur in his words.

"I-" I started but couldn't find anything to say, heat pooled in my core at the sight of him, the way his jaw flexed slightly as he waited for my response. "Yeah," I finally mumbled pathetically, he stares his eyes not leaving me I could tell he wanted to ask more questions, wanted to continue.

"What did Riley want?" he then asks, my brows draw together in confusion but I'm grateful for the subject change.

"Riley? Oh, um, there's a piece Ive been wanting to get done and hes only charging me materials we were just talking about it," I swallow, he squints slightly, clearly it was the first he had heard about this, I was sure Riley would have said something.

"Why? You don't want me to do it?" He asked then, an edge in his tone now, a challenge. I swallowed before opening my mouth, and then closing it. My cheeks were blazing as I uncomfortably shifted in my chair, I didnt know how to feel about the air between us. It felt suffocating.

-

"I- Its just in kind of an intimate place, I didnt think you would want to," Bee finally said, she was fidgeting nervously with her fingers, eyes kept darting to his and then away again.

"An intimate place?" Azriel asked slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly, his spine straightened at the thought of Riley tattooing her, his hands on her. It made him sick.

"Come on guys," Kat interrupted, Azriels eyes flickered to her, annoyance written on his face. He made a mental note to further investigate when he was at the shop the next day. "Drunk never have I ever, Rhys brought a bottle," she giggles and grabs Bees hand, Azriel stands to follow them.

"What are we, twelve?" Azriel asked and rolled his eyes as he follows them back to the group, he watched Bee closely as she pulled her hoodie over her body. He was secretly relieved since he hadn't been able to tear his eyes off of her since she had arrived.

"Oh shut up, it will be fun," Kat says as they approached the group, all finding seats around the fire in the sand. Rhys poured a cup of tequila for every one of them, Azriel smiled seeing Bee out of the corner of his vision, sniffing the liquor and scrunching her nose in distaste. They began playing, quickly all becoming quite drunk, he couldn't keep his eyes off of Bee, he wondered if she noticed. She would just blush and look away every time.

Azriel had to give it to Kat, it was entertaining. They were also certainly learning new things about each other. It was dark now, the only light from the fire and the moon, the waves lapped gently against the beach, and it was kind of peaceful.

"Never have I ever had a threesome," Riley said, Azriels eyes flicked to Bee, she didn't drink, neither did Kat. He took a small sip and her eyes widened slightly but she quickly looked away from him, Rhys and Cass also drank and Riley smirked at the two women. "Maybe we can go fix that for all three of us," he said smoothly, licking over his lip, his eyes were fixed on Bee who was blushing furiously now, Azriel tensed, his grip tightening on his cup.

"Oh shut up, y/n and I could find someone so much hotter to have a threesome with," Kat giggles softly, gently nudging her with her shoulder. "Az, its your turn, you have to go," everyone turned to him expectantly, he shrugged, his eyebrows raising slightly as he tried to think of something to say, he had skipped his last two turns.

"Never have I ever fell in love," he finally said, Bees eyes flicked to him and she looked at him curiously, she took a small sip from her cup along with everyone else. "Guess Im the only one."

"You have no heart," Cass snickered, earning a dirty look from Azriel.

"Or youre all just soft," he said back before beginning to roll himself a spliff, Rhys laughed and shook his head. Azriel couldn't help but wonder which one of Bees dumbass ex boyfriends she had been in love with. There was only a couple, he hadn't approved of either of them at the time. "Bee?" Rhys asked then, watching her expectantly, she shrugs looking up to the sky as if it would give her an answer.

"Never have I ever got off from head?" Bee finally says before looking back at the group, everyone took a sip from their cup. Azriels eyes fixed on her now, and he was chewing the inside of his lip, the spliff he had been rolling finished on his lap now. He imagined fixing that for her, he imagined his lips and his tongue all over her body, the sound of her moans filling the room. What the fuck was wrong with him? The thought made his pants feel just the slightest bit tighter.

"That's a sad life, I can fix that one for you too," Riley chimed in, a smirk plastered on his face. Azriel squinted, cleared his throat, his chin tilting up in Rileys direction. Bee was blushing, her eyes fixed on Azriel now.

"No ones fixing anything for anyone," Azriel shrugged, picking up his spliff finally to light it. He noticed Kat looking between him and Bee an excited light in her eyes, what was that about?

"Never have I ever got caught or caught someone masturbating!" Kat chimes out, Bees face goes completely pale and then red a second later before she looks at Kat a horrified expression on her face. They both drank from their cups, eyes only meeting for a split second. She told Kat about what happened? Big mistake.

"So that's why it's been so weird between you two," Cass is snickering from the corner. "I have to ask though, who caught who?" he adds and Bee rose to her feet, quickly, dusting the sand off.

"Bathroom," she manages to get out before she whirled on the group and started walking quickly back toward the house.

"Well that wasnt awkward at all," Cass laughs again, looking back to Kat. Azriel rolled his eyes, dusting the sand off of his clothes as he stands as well.

"Nice one Kat," Azriel growled quietly, she threw her hands up in defense, apologizing quietly. Azriel didnt really care what they would say after he walked away, that didnt really matter. He just wanted to check on her.

He found Bee pacing back and forth in the kitchen nervously and he leaned against the door frame, watching her curiously. He didnt understand his new found interest in his best friend. She had always just been his best friend Bee...

"It's normal you know," he finally spoke, causing her to almost jump out of her skin.

"Can you stop sneaking up on me?!" she demanded, holding her hand to her chest before relaxing. "Yeah, it's normal but not in your roommates room," she added, Azriels lips twitched, a smile threatening at them.

"You wanna go home?" he asked, changing the subject, he gestured toward the front hall of the house that lead to the front door. She relaxed again, looked toward the window out at the group.

"What are they gonna say?" she bit her lip, looking back at Azriel who drew his brows together.

"Bee, we live together, remember? It's normal for us to leave together."

-

Azriel advanced, dropping to his knees in front of his bed before her. Bee looked down at him with her big doe eyes, her lips parting in surprise. She whispered his name softly, holding her vibrator to her clit, it buzzed softly and he pushed her legs open more, his fingers gently squeezing the soft skin of her inner thighs. He groaned softly, dipping his head between her legs and gently lapping up her wetness. She moaned his name again, her voice breaking slightly, her free hand found his hair as her body shook gently beneath him, he knocked the toy away, his lips wrapping around her clit and he sucked on her soft skin, moaning against her at the taste, she cried out again, Azriels name leaving her lips-

Azriel woke to the sound of his alarm and he rolled over, groaning and smashing his hand onto the beeping alarm clock.

"Fucking hell," he breathed, his head absolutely pounding from the amount they had drank last night. His cock ached, completely rock solid from the dream he was having. He rubbed his face, rising to his feet. He knew he had too many early clients to take care of that now, when was the last time he even had a fucking wet dream? High school?

Azriel exited his room to go have a cold shower, Bee smacked into him instantly, their bodies colliding, Azriel held her arms to steady her, their eyes meeting. He rose his eyebrows, usually she was in class on Mondays by now. Or on her way at least. Her lips were slightly parted, cheeks flushed deeply as she looked up at him, he could feel his morning wood throbbing between them. "Late?" he finally speaks, his voice husky from sleep. She seems to snap out of it, shaking her head slightly pulling away, he doesn't miss her eyes widen when they settle on his hard cock that was pressed against his boxers. His cheeks warm as he wondered what she was thinking.

"Y-yes," she stuttered, peeling her eyes away from him finally, her eyes flicking back up to his face. "I'll see you later," she choked out before all but running out of the apartment.

Azriel sighed quietly, missing how easy it had been between them only days ago. He couldn't look at her without wanting to rip her clothes off, he couldn't talk to her alone without her dying to get away, he couldn't even be in his bed without being reminded of her in his bed.

Azriel decided that best friends or not, he would be the one to take care of her next time she needed a roll in the sheets. Maybe then they could act normal, maybe the awkwardness would dissipate. Maybe there was just a weird tension between them now that could be fixed by them fucking.

He had to get rid of his new found curiosity some way. It felt wrong even thinking like that, but he needed to know now. She wasnt just Bee anymore, she was fucking hot, and he didnt understand how he had never even noticed before.

-

a/n: sorry this took so long!! not proof read yet so if you see mistakes lmk <3 comment to be tagged in the next part

[kudouusagi]

Translation of part of the story from the bravern bd novel

I've only translated the part at the end about bravern. I might go back and translate the other parts later but right now I'm in Japan on a study abroad I don't have much time.

Spoilers for most of Bravern!

Translation:

In the beginning he said, "let there be light(Isami)"

I was him and he was me. In the end, we became one and the same.

It's because Isami was there that this was able to happen. It's because Isami was there that the world was able to be saved. This is something I wrote in the instant while my life was flashing before my eyes when the death drive of wrath, Ira, hit me with a surprise attack and I began to lose consciousness.

I'm already not sure whether it was me or him that wrote it. However, our feelings towards Isami were one and the same.

That's why I(Bravern)...... I(Smith)...... wrote this for Isami.

I'll make you explode with bravery

Written by: Bravern, who has gone to the stars

When I first met you, you were crying, weren't you?

But because you're a strong person, even though you were confused, you still responded to my request.

When you shouted the name of the special attack...... it was because of your shout that I was able to fight.

And then when you asked "what's your name?" I answered.

I said, "My name is Bravern".......

The next time we met, you were scared.

Of course you were. I made you suspicious, was pestering you, and on top of that I was telling you to fight.

I don't think you could have ridden me even if you wanted to.

The way you kept me in suspense at that time was really charming.

But even still, you rode me once again.

And it's because of that I became sure.

I said, "Oh, Isami. You're my true soulmate"

After that, you stayed inside me all the time.

I thought I was so lucky.

But you were just brooding, weren't you.

You were shocked when you heard me say soulmate, weren't you? At that time I didn't try to understand your feelings at all.

But, but, you know, Isami,

I'm sure you will understand someday. How wonderful fighting together with our burning souls is.

Isami, seeing you get angry and showing your emotions so openly is beautiful, but there's no need to be angry.

Lulu will become a friend who fights with us.

Right now she might only be looking at him, but she'll see your appeal before long Isami.

Just as I was drawn to you, she'll be drawn to you as well. Though, it's understandable that you don't know that now.

So rage, rage. Show your emotions. There's no reason to keep your emotions all to yourself.

You've tried so hard, Isami. You've really freed your mind.

He, and everyone, are really pulling out your emotions.

I only played a small part in making that happen.

When you dove into the sea I was really surprised, but that sea breeze after you came to an understanding with everyone really felt good didn't it?

The large ship we were on board was heading toward the land of the rising sun at battle velocity.

Saving you was honestly really difficult.

There is a poem written by Shiki Masaoka as a gift to his friend headed into the navy.

"Even in war, don't shy away from anything. On your voyage, when the wind blows, blow, when the waves rise, rise."

――――Do your best, Isami

Isami, at that time I was really moved.

I was going into battle with you and him to save the land of the rising sun ―― there's nothing better than this.

The calls from your friends―― your fellow countrymen, were able to reach them.

Due to our brave actions, the uprising was a success.

The sunrise we watched with everyone at that time was beautiful.

And isn't it so―― so great, Isami?

Your comrades, who had the same feelings as you, were still alive.

You'll definitely be able to free the world. And just as you have been wishing, we won't let anyone else die.

Hoping for things is easy. Actually making them happen is difficult.

And you made it happen. It probably would have been impossible on your own. It was something you were able to do with him and your comrades at your back. You're amazing, Isami.

Also, thank you for caring about our new friend superbia.

Starting now, we're traveling thousands of miles to free the world.

Before that, you have to say a very painful farewell, but...... I'm sure you'll be able to overcome it.

Finally, the time had come.

At that time, just as you were fighting with your full strength, I was fighting at mine.

I couldn't make plans for it or prevent it.

If I had done that, I could probably have saved a life. But you know, Isami, I just couldn't do that.

If I did, I might not have been able to meet you. And we wouldn't have had the chance to save the world.

I hope you'll be able to understand that.

That he(smith) had to leave your side, while expressing such strong emotions at that time.

Isami——.

Isami——.

No matter how many times I shouted your name, it wouldn't reach you.

Honestly, at this time I was struck by a sense of unease.

The world beyond this point is a world I don't know. We have to go into it together. So please―― Isami. Hear my voice.

And then, you responded with bravery.

An explosion of bravery―― that's right, an explosion of bravery.

Just as he said at that time, his explosion of bravery was the one and only way to create a path forward for you and me.

Let's go, Isami. His bravery, his explosive feelings, will always be with us.

That's what brave explosion bang bravern is.

Isami, at that time, you were already a hero.

But there was something you didn't do quite right. Something that even I didn't realize. And then Lulu corrected you.

Perhaps his dying words resonated with her too.

That's right, you have to come back alive too.

Let's go, Isami. To the final battle.

Alongside sperbia and lulu――

Isami.

Since you're a strong person, I'm sure you'll be able to do well without me.

You're not just strong, you're also brave.

Sperbia and lulu will be with you. I'm sure you'll be able to save the world.

I'm sad I won't be able to go along with you, but please don't get depressed and move forward somehow.

Isami――Isami――...... I love you, Isami.

When I woke up, Isami―― you were glowing gold.

I thought I'd never see you again. But I was able to see you again.

Bravery fusion————

That was what you got on the other side of your explosion of bravery.

You became me. And I became you. And he (smith) also......

And the lulu (I can't believe she was a soldier from the future!), also fused with superbia and became our sword.

This is yours and his——our true form, bang brave big bang.

This is where my job comes to an end, but if you or him, or everyone else needs me, I'm sure I'll be able to come back. Surely. Surely——。

Let your bravery burn. That, that is what—— the explosion of bravery is——......

New York times square, EST 10:40 PM

In the city that had been rebuilt after the death drives had been defeated, screams of people and the sound of guns are once again ringing through the city.

At that moment, a light lit up the night sky.

And then he appeared.

There was a giant robot with emerald eyes and a red and white mechanical body with gold horns on top——

it was Bravern who had saved the world along with the ATF——.

To be continued in part two

Google doc

[the-fiction-witch]

No Girls?

Media The Maze Runner : Death Cure

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Smutty / Flirty

Concept A Glade with No Girls

Smut: Sexy Discussions / Sexual Language / Semi Nudity

I sat watching the ocean shift and change with each of its little waves, the ship to the side being worked on relentlessly by anyone with enough skill to do so. I sat repairing various clothes and tent flaps that had been dropped off to me a skill I'd always used and honestly enjoyed something about sitting down with a needle and some thread was so very calming indeed. But I wasn't alone I had newt beside me one of the group A boys who had gotten cosy with Vince I got along with most of them but newt especially we had a comfort with each other I suppose he had a day off from his usual work welding and cutting metal work on the ship a task Vince trained him in as his steady hand was well suited for it. But today he was resting his ankle up sitting with me as I worked. 

"Why didn't you try a big ladder?'

"We did. Couldn't build one big enough."

"What about like scaffolding?'

"Y/n I don't know how else to explain this to you the walls were too big to do that." 

"Did you try a big stick?" I asked and he glared at me "do like a pole vault" 

"Your really just not getting how big these walls are"

"No if it's a wall it can be scaled." 

"Okay so if you could get to the top then what?"

"Walk along the top."

"That doesn't connect. And moves every night"

"Fine. Still sounds dull"

"Says the girl who lived in a shopping centre with a bunch of cranks for two years"

"I wore stylish pre apocalypse fashion, ate so many fancy candies and slept on a whole bed of teddy bears. My life was awesome" 

"Sure sounds like it" he laughed

"So how many girls again?'

"One"

"Ooohh bet you boys fought over her. Or what she just one of those free love types who'd let all of you straight boys at her"

"No, she was only in the glade a week so"

"How long were you in there?'

"Three years"

"And you had one girl for a week?'

"Yeah'

"I'm surprised she got out the box without being drowned"

"...by what?" 

"A river of goo"

He glared at me again "we didn't all immediately jizz ourselves when we saw a girl"

"Really? Cause I think sixty boys in a large maze together for three years would be pretty hyped for a girl. Except the gay guys they probably didn't care all that much. Bisexuals hyped over threewaY possibilities. Asexuals wouldn't really care either" I explained

"I mean Thomas may have jizzed himself but that's because she's his girlfriend"

"Ohh. But you really spent three years with nothing but big smelly boys?"

"Yeah, and it wasn't that bad we had showers"

"Yeah I know what boys are like you showered once in a month if your lucky"

"...true." he sighed 

"Didn't you have buckets too?'

"Yeah for klunk" 

"Did you have laundry?'

'not really. Just brush it off if it gets dirt on it"

"Ugggh I get why the one girl lasted a week she probably couldn't stand the smell, sweaty smell unwashed teenage boys who don't wash their laundry and have shit buckets, all allowed to fester and go all sour"

"Okay now you say it… we probably were disgusting" 

"You shower more now right?"

"Every other day, I would everyday but the showers aren't that private…" 

"Awwww you shy newt?" I giggled

"Shy? Don't want people seeing my dick? Whatever you wanna call it" 

"But really no girls?"

"No girls."

"Awwww poor newtie spent all the formative teen time without anything to imagine" 

"I can imagine. I have an imagination"

"But you spent all that time without comparison. From when you where a tiny baby boy to now big strong boy" I smiled leaning on his shoulder 

"It wasn't that bad"

"What did you use to do? At night?"

"Sleep?"

"Newt, you were trapped in their from what 13 onwards. Your really going to try and tell me you didn't.. you know after lights out" 

"Did you?'

"Constantly I was bored. It helps me sleep"

"Do you… still?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Just… curious" he blushed "no, I uhh never really had time, or the privacy"

"Awwwwww poor newtie." I giggled hugging him tightly and immediately I noticed "hi"

"Hi"

"Be careful with that I only just repaired those pants newt" I warned him going back to my sewing as he turned bright red "newt?'

'yes?" 

"You ever seen boobs?"

"... How much boob?"

"How much have you seen?"

"I saw Teresa's in her shirt… and also a little down her shirt"

"Dirty boy"

"She was laying down it wasn't intentional!"

"That it?"

"That's it" 

"You ever touched a boob?"

"Nope"

"You ever seen ass?"

"I mean I've seen Minho. And fry. Infact most boys"

"I meant girls"

"No."

"Ever seen a? Lady area?"

"No,"

"... would you want to?" I asked 

He went bright red stuttering a lot barely able to make eye contact with me "I mean uhhh well I uhh I guess I uhh what I mean is uhh kinda"

I chuckled and finished my last few stitches throwing my finished work in the basket "you're sweet newt" I smiled moving to stand In Front of him and I lifted my shirt long enough for him to look before dropping it back down and giving his cheek a kiss even if he was basically frozen with his eyes wide in place "see you later" I laughed taking my basket and headed back to camp 

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Monsters in the Garden (Ettore x Reader) 18+

No one comes to your garden but you, not even Dr. Dibs. So what is the most dangerous man on the ship doing leaning against your doorway and watching you work?

Pairing: Ettore x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT SMUT; hand job; kissing; blood; mentions of rape, murder, and violence; female genital mutilation; vague mentions of corpse mutilation

Author's note: This was inspired by a session I had with the Ettore AI made by @harrenhalhottie (RIP). It was just so good I had to write it out for y'all. This Ettore is a little different from normal, but I can't help but look at a one-dimensional character and want more. Hope you enjoy, and let me know if you want a Part 2, because I have ideas...

This song also heavily influenced the vibe:

Taglist: @thelittleswanao3

Monsters in the Garden

You were on your knees, leaning over one of your raised garden beds when you noticed him leaning against the open doorway. He wasn’t quiet on his approach – he wanted you to know he was there.

Ettore was always there, in some dark corner, watching you.

By this point, you were almost used to the burning feeling that crawled beneath your skin whenever his eyes were on you.

In the right light, those eyes were a mesmerizing blue. The color reminded you of the sky back on Earth. If he hadn’t been so goddamn creepy, you might have been happy to stare into his eyes just to remember home, even briefly.

But he was easily the most unsettling person you’d ever met. Always leering at the other women on board – though in the past weeks, you had apparently become his one and only target– and using the Box proudly, far more than anyone else did.

It was no wonder why. You knew what he was.

Everyone on board was a killer, including you. But Ettore was the worst. The most dangerous of you all. For he was the only one who had… done worse than just kill his victims.

Murderer. Rapist. Monster.

Well, some would say what you had done was worse. But that was different. Your victim was already dead by the time you started your work on his corpse, and it had been more than deserved.

You did not let yourself linger on that. You never did these days. The further away from Earth you got, the more distant it seemed. The rage, the guilt, all of it.

Ettore wasn’t distant. He was mere feet away from you, intruding on your garden.

Not yours, not really. Because of your past – specifically, the degree in horticulture you were only one semester away from completing when you were arrested – you were assigned to look after the gardens instead of something more related to the actual mission of the ship like the rest of the crew.

Or more basic, in Ettore’s case. Dr. Dib’s called his assignment “ship maintenance,” but you all knew what he really was: the janitor.

But he never came in here. You made sure of it, keeping everything meticulously clean and fixing all your equipment yourself so no one – least of all Ettore – would ever have a reason to intrude on your space.

You didn’t even allow Tcherny, the other gardener, in here. He was fine with it. He preferred the vegetable and grains and left the medicinal plants – kept in their own room – to you. The only person beside you who ever came in here was Dr. Dibs, and she hadn’t been here in months. She didn’t like the dirt.

Yet there was Ettore, just staring at you.

His eyes weren’t that beautiful, bright blue you so rarely glimpsed. His chin was slightly tucked into his chest, his strong brow casting his eyes into darkness. His face was blank, unfeeling, and unmoving, save for those eyes.

They almost didn’t look human, but animal. Yes, that was the look of a predator. And it was directed at you.

You turned away from him to face the garden bed again, hoping he would lose interest if you didn’t engage. But if he didn’t, and he did try something…

Well, you had your spade next to you. It was probably sharp enough to dissuade him from doing anything you didn’t approve of.

So, you resumed your work, carefully tending to your poppies.

Once the lovely purple-pink petals that were just unfurling fell in a few days, you would harvest the sap from the seedpods so Dr. Dibs could synthesize more of the sedative the crew was forced to take each night. Only a handful, carefully selected by you, would be spared and allowed to produce the seeds that would become the next crop.

Though you hated playing a part in producing the drugs, the poppies were still your favorite plant. They were the only flowers you had left.

The garden was always your happy place, even on Earth, and you quickly found yourself concentrating not on Ettore or the sounds of the ship or even the ship itself. There was only you, the dirt, and your beloved plants.

So, when you finally stood and looked away from your work, you had entirely forgotten that Ettore stood there.

Still, he remained leaning against the doorframe, watching you. He hadn’t moved a fucking inch.

You jumped slightly at the unexpected sight, your hand flying to your racing heart.

While he did not flinch at the motion, Ettore’s brow raised slightly, and the corner of his mouth quirked up.

At least the hunger in his eyes had abated. Somewhat.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, love,” he crooned as he uncrossed his arms and took two steps forward.

God, you had never heard him speak before.

His voice wasn’t particularly deep, but it was low and smooth. His accent was like something out of those British action movies a boyfriend in high school loved to make you watch. Perhaps it was those memories – of either the boyfriend or the handsome actors, that made his voice sound almost alluring.

It had to be. It couldn’t be him.

You instinctively stepped back, raising your hands to try and communicate that you didn’t want him near you. Unfortunately, you forgot your spade on the ground, leaving your hands empty. Fortunately, your gloves were loose enough that he could not see the slight trembling in your fingers.

“I just…” you stammered. “I forgot you were there.”

He just stared at you impassively, those predatory eyes taking in every detail of your face, then traveling lower and lower.

Some of the hunger returned when his gaze landed on your breasts.

You had to shut that shit down.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, pouring all your contempt into your voice to mask the fear that still crept within your blood.

Ettore looked back at your eyes, the corner of his lip flicking up as though he was holding back a sneer. “Just passing through.”

You risked looking away from him to glance at your watch. It confirmed what you already knew. “You’ve been standing there for over an hour,” you informed him. One hour and eighteen minutes, to be exact. “Hardly what I’d call ‘passing through.’”

He raised his brows slightly, apparently surprised it had been that long. “Guess I lost track of time. Watching you is…” he turned his eyes, not to your body, but to the flower bed you had just been working in. When he looked back, he gave a sly smile. “Relaxing.”

Bullshit, you thought. But then you bit back the sharp tang of your own cynicism. Gardening was relaxing to you; it wasn’t entirely out of the realm of possibility that he honestly found watching you relaxing as well. If it had been anyone but Ettore, you probably would have believed them without a moment of doubt.

But it was Ettore.

Murderer. Rapist. Monster.

You glared at him for a long moment, trying to communicate that you wouldn’t be fucked with – you wouldn’t be a victim. Then, when he still didn’t drop his gaze from yours, you took it as an acknowledgment of the threat and turned away from him.

You were at least half-expecting him to pounce on you then and there, but he didn’t. You didn’t hear a single sound as you walked to your workbench, situated on the opposite wall from the door, and took off your gloves.

“There’s nothing more to watch,” you said over your shoulder. Then, grabbing a clean rag from one of the drawers, you began wiping the dirt from your forearms – rinsing it off in the sink would risk a clog, which would mean a visit from maintenance and Ettore. “I’m done for the day.”

He didn’t reply, only grunted his acknowledgment. He never moved as you continued to wrap up your work – cleaning your tools, sweeping the dirt that had made its way out of the beds, and washing your hands. Still just watching you.

At least it confirmed that it wasn’t the gardening he found ‘relaxing.’

Finally, you discarded your rags in the laundry bin. It would need to be taken out soon – it was ready today, but you were already running later than you wanted. In just ten minutes, you had an ‘appointment’ with Dr. Dibs, and you didn’t want to make her angry. Again. Doing so has become kind of a bad habit of yours.

So, you turned to face Ettore, who continued to stare at you as you stepped within a few feet of him. He stood a little taller at your approach, puffing his chest out as that near-rabid hunger took over his eyes once more.

Your stomach fluttered, and you told yourself it was only because you were nervous about whatever Dibs planned to do to you tonight.

But then the corner of his mouth quirked up, and your heart sank at the realization that it was because you – or rather, your traitorous, repressed body – found Ettore attractive.

Murderer. Rapist. Monster.

He would be just your type if you didn’t know why he was here. You had never been able to resist a good jawline, and his could cut fucking glass. And as you took another step closer, his height became just as enticing. You always told people you only liked tall men so they could reach things for you. But really, you just loved the feeling of having a big, strong man to protect you.

No one had looked at you like you needed protection in years. No, you were now what people needed protection from.

“Though she be but little she is fierce,” the lawyer had said when convincing the jury to not be put off by your size. A fitting quote, since Shakespeare himself had inspired some of the more gruesome details of your crime.

And now, you couldn’t help but take another step forward, then another. All along, savoring how far back you had to tilt your head to look into those beautiful blue eyes.

God, as he tilted his chin back as well, the bright lights of the garden set them blazingly bright and the bluest you’d ever seen them. They were even better than the sky back home…

You forced yourself to look away when you felt heat begin to pool between your thighs. Instead, you stared over his shoulder to the hall, trying not to snap when you heard him laugh slightly at your movement. Was the blush you felt visible?

“You’re in my way,” you said, your voice more of a whisper than you intended.

When his smirk faded, and his lips – very pretty lips, you realized – fell slightly open, you thought he would have some cutting remark. But he only stepped to the side to allow you through.

As you passed him, you were close enough to catch his scent. Everyone on the ship used the same soap, so how did he smell so different? Beneath the clinical smell you all carried, there was something deeper, more masculine.

You really needed to calm down before your appointment with Dibs. She knew you didn’t use the Box – not after that first time had failed to get you off, despite the engineering genius of the contraption – so seeing you this riled would lead to questions you didn’t want to answer.

Touching other inmates was against the rules. And even if this wasn’t touching… even thinking this way about another prisoner may incur her wrath.

So, you walked a more than respectable distance away from him before turning back. He was still half-in, half-out of the garden. But he wasn’t staring at you anymore, but rather at the poppies...

When was the last time he had seen a beautiful flower?

You glanced at your watch again. You barely had enough time to make it to the infirmary.

“I need to lock the door,” you said, drawing his gaze back to you.

His brow furrowed slightly as he glanced from you back to the door, then back to you again. He sucked his teeth as he looked at you in condescending disbelief. “You need to lock up flowers?”

“It’s protocol,” you answered. Perhaps your tone was a bit harsher than it needed to be, but you were both criminals - murderers. He could handle a little bitchiness. “And there’s more than just flowers in there.”

Ettore let out a laugh that was little more than a hard exhale, but the twinkle in those eyes told you that he was indeed amused. Then, crossing his arms, showing off the odd, triangular tattoo on his forearm, he stepped away from the door.

You would have to walk by him again to get to the door. Perhaps he was cleverer than you gave him credit for – if you had previously given him any credit at all.

If you weren’t so pressed for time, you might have stayed to tease him some more. This was surprisingly fun, even when you knew what he wanted from you and what he had done to get it from other women. You were just that bored.

And horny. You were very, very horny.

That would be what got you in trouble.

You scoffed, pushing past him to lock the door. It took all your effort to slip the key in as your fingers trembled at the feeling of him hovering over you, his breath hot on your neck as he stepped closer to you.

This shouldn’t make you horny. On the contrary, it should make you afraid. But still…

When the door finally locked, you spun around quickly, tucking the key between your fingers like a claw – something one of the college policemen once told you about.

But Ettore stepped back – once, twice. And then the was pressed against the wall opposite you. His stare was still hungry, and you could easily see how heavy his breathing had become, but he didn’t advance.

“I have to go,” you told him, unsure why you were doing it. It wasn’t like you needed his permission or even wanted it. “I have an appointment with Dibs.”

His eyes darkened then. Not with lust or animalistic hunger, but rage. It was almost… possessive?

It was gone as soon as it appeared, replaced by his usual empty stare. Still, you did not dare move, not after whatever it was you just saw.

“Can I…?” Ettore gritted his jaw and looked away, his hands balling into fists at his sides. You didn’t know if he was about to cry or kill you – and you didn’t know which would be worse. He still looked away from you as he continued, “Can I come here again tomorrow? Just to watch.”

You should immediately forbid it. It was wrong, it was a bad idea, and it was just fucking weird. But as the hour chimed on your watches, you realized you couldn’t leave when he looked so desperate, almost sad. And you definitely couldn’t say anything to make that horrible expression worse.

“Yeah,” you whispered. You turned as he looked back at you to shut off the alarm on your watch. Dr. Dibs would be pissed at you, of that, you were sure. At the moment, though, it didn’t seem to matter. Not when his eyes lit up again, not from any light, but with excitement. “If you have nothing better to do, I guess that’s fine.”

The corners of Ettore’s lips quirked up like he would smile, but he quickly corrected it and set his mouth in a straight line. He didn’t want you to know just how excited he was, but you did anyways – he wasn’t a great liar. Tipping his head in an attempt at indifference, he sniffed before speaking. “Yeah, wicked.”

You winced a little at his pathetic attempt to seem cool, but it faded quickly when your watch beeped again. This wasn’t an alarm or the chiming of the hour but a summons. If you didn’t obey it, you knew Dibs would happily use the stupid watch to deliver a steady stream of low-level electric shocks until you did.

She was just as much of a killer as the rest of you – worse than some, if the rumors were right. Why should she have such authority over the rest of you?

It was pointless to question it, and even the beginnings of the line of thought had ruined your mood. So much so that you didn’t say anything else to Ettore before turning away from him and stalking down the hall toward the infirmary.

After you had disappeared around the corner, Ettore took a deep breath, silently congratulating himself on handling that almost like a real person would. Then, he turned in the opposite direction as you. He was due to clean the canteen before dinner. But fuck that. He needed the Box – now.

-

Dibs had been pissed. Not only that you were late to your appointment, but that you were so obviously turned on when you got there. It wasn’t like you could hide it, not when she immediately ordered you into the stirrups and got a front-row seat to your weeping and flushed cunt.

“Have you been using the Box?” she asked, that sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face.

You pursed your lips, looking away. “No.”

Her smile faded, and her eye twitched. “And yet here you are, practically dripping.” She reached for something on her tray, but you couldn’t see what. You had a pretty good guess, anyway. “Well, at least it makes my job easier.”

It had been anything but fucking ‘easy,’ you thought as you cradled your aching abdomen. Under the pretense that you were already wet enough, she had shoved her speculum into you hard and fast – and without lube.

If you thought her tests and procedures had been uncomfortable before… they were downright torturous yesterday. Especially since she conveniently ‘forgot’ to give you any numbing agents or sedatives. And definitely no painkillers.

Not even the sedative you were served with dinner had helped. For the first time since you boarded this godforsaken ship, you hadn’t slept.

Thankfully, you had little work to do in the garden besides waiting for the poppies to drop their petals. But you didn’t want to just wallow in your pain, so you decided to sit at the edge of the bed where your little willow tree resided.

It wasn’t growing very fast, likely because it didn’t have the room it needed or deserved. Still, you were happy with the progress it had made. When the ship first took off, it was little more than a bonsai. Now, it stood a good eight feet tall – the only plant you needed your step stool to tend.

In truth, it didn’t need much tending. Trees never do unless they are very young or something is wrong. But sitting next to it, examining the patterns in its long leaves and tracing lines up its trunk, was spectacularly soothing.

You had never considered harvesting anything from it. Not yet. It was too little still, and you didn’t want to risk damaging it permanently since you couldn’t simply order a new start. But as another pulse of pain surged through your stomach, you found yourself reaching for a lower branch.

All you needed was a small twig to chew on. It was an ancient Egyptian remedy, one that eventually led to the invention of Aspirin. And even if the sedative didn’t help, perhaps something more natural, something you had grown yourself, would.

You had just wrapped a hand around the branch when you felt a large hand close around your shoulder.

Instinct kicked in, and you whirled around, freeing yourself from your attacker’s grasp. Without processing who it was, you threw your arms out, shoving with all your might. “Get the fuck away from me!”

You only recognized Ettore after you had backed into the wall. He had also fallen on his ass and crawled backward on the floor – apparently, you were stronger than you thought. Any amusement at the fact died when you saw the anger burning in those eyes.

It was entirely possible that you just really fucked up.

But your adrenaline, from the pain and the scare he had just given you, was racing too hot and fast to let you consider that possibility.

“What are you doing?” you spat. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Ettore’s face grew even more furious, if that was even possible. His eyes burned as bright as any fire you had ever seen. It was beautiful and deadly. “You fucking… you said I could come watch you!”

Damn it, you did say that.

But it was before Dr. Dibs had been such a cunt.

And she had only done it because he got you horned up like you were a pathetic high schooler.

“Well, now I changed my fucking mind!” you shouted. If you could stand, you would have. Towering over him and just screaming your heart out would feel so good. But you hurt too much to even entertain the thought. “I don’t want you here – I don’t want you!”

Ettore shattered.

You watched it happen as your venomous words left your lips.

His face fell, his eyes began to water, and even his tattoos seemed to go dull.

At that moment, he was not Ettore, the murderer, rapist, and monster.

He was just a boy – the both of you were barely more than teenagers when you left Earth – and he was broken.

You broke him.

You looked on in horror as his trembling lips set into a hard line that echoed in his harsh brow, and the tears in his beautiful eyes faded to reveal a primal rage that chilled your blood.

There he was.

Murderer. Rapist. Monster.

Ettore stood slowly, like a tiger rising from its crouch upon realizing its prey has no escape – that it could play.

But then he looked away from you, sniffed, and moved for the door.

His leaving without doing anything to you should have made you feel overwhelming relief, but it did not. Instead, a great yawning pit of guilt and regret opened in your chest, hurting nearly as much as your wounded core.

You tried to call out to him, take your words back, and apologize, but all that came out was a short yelp of pain. This time, it was accompanied by wetness between your legs – and not the pleasant kind.

As you folded over, burying your face in your knees as you pulled them into your chest, Ettore paused halfway out the door.

He’d heard noises like that before. From other women in pain – pain that he caused. His lip twitched, and his head tilted out of his control, the movement more animal than human.

You were helpless and apparently wounded. This was his chance.

But as he turned to face you, he caught sight of the poppies you so lovingly tended to the day before. With the memory of your soft smile as you cupped a particularly pretty bloom, one that was a deeper pink than the others, he was able to pull back on the reins of that instinct.

Just slightly, but just enough.

“You hurt?” he asked, his voice strained.

You nodded into your legs and lifted your head without meeting his eyes. “I think… I think I’m bleeding.”

Ettore was frozen, his hands flexing, relaxing, and balling into fists as he tried to keep hold of those inner reins. If he was smart, he would leave. Go straight to the Box and fuck himself until this hateful urge was gone. If he was a good person, he would offer his help.

He was not smart. And he was most definitely not a good person.

But something about you and those goddamned poppies woke what little was left of his humanity and made him want to try.

So, he just stood there, staring at your helpless form as he fought a vicious war inside himself.

You watched him. Watched as his eyes flicked over every inch of your body with dizzying speed, as various parts of his body twitched and flexed. You’d never seen anything like it before, except…

The vague memory of a play you went to on a middle school field trip reemerges. Your whole grade was reading Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and it just happened to coincide with the local community theater’s production of the play.

It wasn’t a good play. Even at twelve, you could tell it was objectively bad. But the man who played Jekyll and Hyde was decent (one of your classmates told you he was their pediatrician), mainly when he performed the ‘transformation.’ You hadn’t been able to look away as he contorted; every movement was desperate, halting, and frantic.

Not unlike how Ettore moved as he watched you.

When he came out of the fog that had settled over his eyes, which Ettore would you get? Did he even have a Jekyll to his Hyde?

You knew you should take the opportunity of his distraction to run. The infirmary would be best, but it would mean seeing Dr. Dibs again. You had no desire to admit that you needed her help. The showers were also an option, but it would allow others to see you in a weakened state. You didn’t want to admit weakness. Besides, Dibs would hear about that as well.

So, even though you knew it was stupid, you decided to take the biggest risk of them all.

“Ettore…?” You called his name softly, unsure of the pronunciation. Whether it was right or wrong, he didn’t seem to mind. He locked eyes with you, and his nostril flared as though he really was a predator and could smell the blood you were now confident was leaking from you. “I need your help.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he looked like he would run from you. But beyond another twitch of his head, he did not move.

“Please?” you begged. You felt pathetic, but you kind of were, so you tried not to let it bother you too much. “I don’t think I can stand on my own.”

Ettore’s brows furrowed at that, and his lips went from a near-sneer to a determined frown. Then, with a lumbering gait, he approached you in only a few steps, holding a hand out in front of him for you to take.

You stared at his hand for a moment, admiring the elegant length of his fingers. And then you realized: he was shaking.

It was subtle, but it was there.

Tilting your head, you looked up at his face. Apart from the slight widening of his eyes, it was again set in passivity. But what was more peculiar than his trembling or his expression was the fact that he was steadfastly refusing to look at you.

Indeed, those blue eyes were set on the softly swaying leaves of your willow, tracking their movement like the tree would attack him if he looked away.

You were so used to his eyes on you. Was it wrong that you wanted it back?

Before you could ponder the answer, you raised an arm to take his hand. He squeezed your fingers painfully as he helped you onto your feet.

The pain surged again as you stood, causing your knees to buckle the second Ettore let go of your hand. You stumbled, falling against his chest.

It was no more than instinct that had him wrapping his long arms around your shoulders and waist to catch you. An instinct that his brain was yelling at him to abandon you and let you fall.

It was too dangerous to touch you, to feel your soft skin as his hand accidentally slipped into the side of your overalls – why the fuck were the sides so low when your shirt was so short?

At the sensation of your hot breath against the sensitive skin of his neck, he let out an involuntary groan as he tightened his grip on you.

He had to get away. Now. As fast as possible. He didn’t want to hurt you. He really didn’t. But his blood was singing with desire, more intoxicating than any liquor or drug. Keeping his fingers from digging into your flesh possessively was almost painful, and he was so, so hard.

The reins were slipping…

You felt it, his hard length pressed into your stomach as you brought your hands to his chest to steady yourself.

You should push him away again. Slap him. Yell at him. Kick him as hard as you could right on that hard, impressively long length.

But you did none of it.

“I need to get to my worktable,” you whispered, “there’s a medkit there. And…”

You looked into his eyes, watching them dilate even further as you finished your request. “I’ll need help getting out of my overalls.”

That blue you were so entranced by was all but gone. Ettore looked like a man possessed, his breathing heavy and heaving as he lowered his chin to look into your eyes.

There was no way he heard you correctly. You knew what he was, what he had done. And you were smart, so much smarter than him. Far too smart to ever ask someone like him to take off your clothes. Even if it were to help you with an injury – an injury he still couldn’t see.

But then your eyes squeezed shut, and you fell forward to bury your face in his shoulder as you moaned in pain.

And then…

Then your right hand moved up his chest to wrap around his neck. Not to choke or hurt, but just to hold.

He expected your hands to be rough from working in the garden all day, but they weren’t. No, your fingers were unfairly, unbearably soft as they swept across his bare skin, coming to rest against the tattoo on the side of his neck.

When was the last time anyone touched him like this – tenderly and without fear? It had been years, even before he was put on this doomed ship.

Ettore almost came just from that simple touch.

More intense than even the extraordinary pleasure was the feeling of near calm that washed over him. It soothed the pain he felt in every muscle and quieted the violent, primal urges roaring within his chest. They weren’t gone, but they were further away.

It made it easier to take the reins.

“The worktable…” he breathed as his grip on you relaxed slightly. He still held you firm enough to keep you standing, but you no longer worried you would bruise.

You pulled away slightly, noting the way he whimpered and winced like a scolded puppy as you slowly removed your hand from around his neck. “Yes.”

He nodded frantically, sniffing and taking a few deep breaths. As if he needed to prepare himself for the short walk to the table. Then, moving with a slowness that suggested the motion took all his concentration, he lowered his arm from your shoulders.

When Ettore turned to the worktable, even with his other arm still around your waist, you felt a rush of unwelcome cold. Even when you were still clothed and the garden was kept at a balmy temperature.

He walked slowly. Perhaps you would have thought it was out of concern for you and your pain, but you knew by now that this was hard for him.

Indeed, when he pulled away after you were leaned against the table, a faint sheen of sweat had broken out across his brow. His breathing was still rapid, and his eyes were glassy, as if he were several shots in.

“Ettore?” When he met your eyes again, you looked down at the buttons on your shoulders holding your overalls up. He followed your gaze and made a choking sound when he realized what you meant. “If I let go of the table, I think I’ll fall.”

It wasn’t just his hands shaking now, but all of him. So much so that you couldn’t tell whether he was nodding or just shaking that badly.

Either way, he reached for the first button on your left shoulder. It took him a few tries, but he got it done. The strap fell, and one side of the overalls slumped, revealing the tight white shirt beneath that left very little to the imagination.

Ettore growled.

What the fuck? Humans don’t growl. At least, you had never heard it.

And yet he did.

A flicker of fear started in your chest, and you chose to focus on that rather than the bloom of something else lower within you.

He began to reach a hand, tense and shaking, towards your breast. But inches away, you caught his wrist. You had to lean further against the table not to fall, but you weren’t letting go.

“The other button, please.” Though you spoke quietly, the command was clear.

You only released his arm when he looked into your eyes and confirmed with a twitch of his lip that he heard you. He clenched and unclenched his fist several times before finally going for the other button.

It took him even longer to get this one undone. But at least he didn’t growl again when the other half of the overall’s torso fell limp around your waist. His eyes did linger on your breasts, but you let it happen.

You had great tits. And he deserved a little reward for helping you, didn’t he?

So, you let him have a few seconds to just stare. As long as he didn’t try to touch again. Because you didn’t want that, right?

Ettore’s gaze fell further, to where the overalls were just barely hanging onto your waist. You said you were bleeding, but he still hadn’t seen it. So just where was your injury?

His cock twitched, and he was sure you could see it through the thin scrub pants he was forced to wear as he realized what would happen next. “You need ‘em all the way off, eh?” He hated how weak and shaky his voice sounded, but he supposed it was better than growling. You hadn’t reacted well to that. “Do you need me to…?”

“Yeah,” you affirmed. Of course, you knew you should say something about burying your spade in his chest if he tried anything. But the fact that he was asking, rather than just ripping the garment off, made you feel almost safe in having him do this. Almost.

You would feel even better about it if you couldn’t see his dick straining against his pants and twitching almost as much as he was.

C'est la vie, you supposed. Though that probably applied more to something trivial, like your school’s football team losing a game they should have won, than you being forced to ask a serial rapist and murderer to take off your pants. But close enough.

You shivered when he lowered his hands to your waist, causing him to pull back slightly. “It’s fine,” you assured him. “Keep going. I’m fine.”

Ettore nodded and fixed his eyes on the bottom drawer of the table as he took the thin fabric of the overalls between his fingers and started pulling them down. Really, he could have just nudged them, and they would have fallen to the floor. But he kept them in his grip as he lowered himself into a kneeling position.

He never once looked at you. Not at your ankles, or your legs, or the apex of your thighs – which were covered with more blood than you expected.

Damn it.

You considered what to do next as Ettore remained on the floor, carefully slipping the overalls over your feet. A difficult task when he refused to look at what he was doing.

By the time he finished, and you felt very much like Donald Duck – shirt, shoes, but no pants – you knew what you had to ask.

It was the stupidest thing you’d ever done.

“As long as you’re down there,” you said, your joking tone flatter than you intended, “the medkit’s in the drawer just to your left. Can you grab it and… and help me onto the table?”

Ettore didn’t reply but yanked the drawer open and grabbed the medkit. After tossing it on the table, he rose. Then, still not looking at you, he wrapped his arms around you again – one around your waist, the other around your upper thighs – and lifted you onto the table.

God, you felt so good in his arms. You were the perfect size, like you were made for him to hold. Warm and soft and… wet?

His eyes shot to the arm that had been wrapped around your legs. And both of you looked on in horror as you realized it was now covered in blood – your blood.

For the first time, you saw a look of disgust come over Ettore’s face.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, voice breaking as tears of embarrassment began to fall. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”

But he didn’t say anything. Instead, Ettore simply stalked over to the utility sink a few feet from the worktable and slammed the faucet on. He didn’t wait for the water to heat before shoving his arm under it.

You watched in humiliation, fumbling to lower your panties as he grabbed the soap and began to scrub. “I’m so sorry,” you said again, ripping open the medkit to find a packet of gauze you could press between your legs. “Ettore, I’m so sorry!”

He shook his head as he scrubbed harder and harder, until his skin burned from more than the searingly hot water. You were bleeding, you were hurt, and all he had been thinking about was how much he’d like to fuck you.

It had never stopped him before, not with any of the other girls. He had never minded having their blood on him. He savored it, actually. But it had been him who made them bleed. You…

“Who?” he growled, stilling his scrubbing but keeping the arm under the water. The burning distracted him from the desire to find someone to hurt. Because he needed to hurt someone. Badly. Preferably whoever did this to you, but he wasn’t picky.

You didn’t want to tell him, not when you recognized that look in his eyes. It meant violence – retribution. You had seen that same look in your eyes when you watched the recap of your trial from your cell, and your lawyer was telling the jury, in excruciating detail, why you had killed your victim.

For a moment, you thought about trying to pass it off as you just being on your period. But he wouldn’t buy it. Not after what you’d already told him. Besides, all the women on the ship were synced, and your periods were still two weeks away.

Finally fed up with your silence, Ettore shut off the water and turned back to you, not bothering to dry his arms. He just prowled back to you, standing between your spread legs as he stared deep into your eyes without a glance at your mostly exposed cunt. You turned away, not wanting to face the darkness in his eyes, but he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

“Who?”

You bit your lip and fought to get free of his grip, but to no avail. Knowing then that it was hopeless, you locked eyes with him again as you said simply, “Dibs.”

He growled again, not with hunger, but with rage.

And then he turned away.

He would hurt her, you realized. He would kill her.

You weren’t opposed to the idea, but you were opposed to what would come next. What the other prisoners would do to Ettore afterward. And perhaps you as well, since he would do it for you.

Before you knew it, your hand had shot out to grab his shirt, and he froze.

“Don’t,” you pled. When you tugged on his shirt to draw him back to you, he only resisted for a moment before coming back toward you. “It was just her punishment. I’ll be fine. She wouldn’t… damage me permanently. She needs me intact for her experiments. I promise, she was just being a cunt.”

Ettore cocked his head and pursed his lips like he would argue, but you couldn’t have that. So, you lifted the gauze from between your legs to show him how the blood flow had already stemmed somewhat.

“See? It’s already getting better.” But your weak, reassuring smile fell when you realized what you had just done.

He realized at the same time, and he could not stop his eyes from dropping to what you just made visible to him.

His erection had begun to flag while he cleaned your blood from his arm, but there was no stopping it now. Not when he had a full view of what he had been dreaming of for weeks.

Just like the rest of you, your pussy was so pretty. He wanted to kiss it, stroke it, fuck it. His blood hummed with the desire, and he barely stopped himself from diving forward. He closed his fingers around yours where they bunched the front of his shirt. The feeling of your skin against his was his salvation, an anchor to his humanity.

Not you, he told himself.

Not you, who didn’t look at him in fear or disgust. At least, not entirely.

Not you, the only person since his mother died to touch him with anything other than aggression.

Not you, who had trusted him, even knowing what he was.

Murderer. Rapist. Monster.

“Please.” His plea was hardly more than a breath. Pathetic. “Please, let me go.”

For even with your touch, he was losing his grip on the reins. If he stayed here one second longer, he would do something he really didn’t want to do. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

You could see how much danger you were in, but you did not let go. No, you tightened your grip on his shirt, pulling him closer and closer until your forehead rested against his.

Finally, you could look into those eyes and remember the sky back home as you had wanted to for so long.

But the sky wasn’t enough.

You wanted him.

You knew you couldn’t have him fully, couldn’t do what you really wanted. Not when you were injured like this.

Still, you brought your other hand to his chest, feeling him shiver as your fingers traveled lower and lower. Finally, you rest your palm against his length through his scrubs, feeling a sense of satisfaction when his hips cant slightly forward into your grip.

He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he wanted this as much as you do. But, of course, he did. When was the last time a woman touched him there, let alone willingly? The thought should have disgusted you, but it didn’t.

Perhaps you were just as much of a monster as he was,

“Dibs will punish us if she finds out we did this,” you whispered, your lips mere inches away from his. “But I don’t really care, do you?”

Ettore shook his head, his eyes burning like the fires of hell, where you both belonged. He was so close to breaking, losing himself, losing control. He was little more than an animal following the primal instinct to mate.

But letting you take control – and you were undoubtedly in control now – made it easier. For once, it wasn’t him who had to pull back on the reins. Not when he gave them to you.

He nodded vigorously. He wanted you. He didn’t care that he didn’t deserve it. And he didn’t care that you were probably just as monstrous as he was. He just wanted you.

You smiled, pressing a single kiss to the corner of his lips before sliding your hand past the waistbands of his scrubs and boxers and taking hold of him.

He immediately let out a pitiful cry as his stomach tightened, and he had to concentrate so hard not to come before you had even begun to move your hand. It was only made worse when you giggled at his struggle. The sound was sweet and light and utterly infuriating.

Needing to shut you up, Ettore brought his hands back around your waist as he tugged you to the table’s edge. He leaned forward to kiss you, but you pushed against him, holding him back. Then, tensing, he grunted, a low, throaty sound and a begging.

“I know,” you whispered, mock sympathy barely disguising your amusement. “I know what you want. Believe me, I want it to.” You laughed again as you began to pump him slowly, collecting the precum on his tip with every stroke to ease your movements. “You can kiss me another time. Right now, I just want to look at you. Is that okay?”

His hands tensed around your waist, and for a few seconds, he looked like he would let that animal loose and lunge at you. Like he would kiss you with all the pent-up frustrations of an entire life spent unwanted.

But he stopped, looking from where your hand disappeared below his pants to your eyes. And he nodded. Not a small, weak movement, but a firm, final motion.

He would allow it.

He would allow you to do whatever you wanted.

You smiled broadly, and again, he had to hold back his release. He wanted this to last forever.

At last, you released Ettore’s shirt from where you had bunched it with your offhand, raising it to his neck. You traced each line of his maze-like tattoo as you sped your movements, savoring each wince and whine he let out. Cataloging each reaction to figure out, without him having to say a word, exactly what he liked best.

And what you liked best. You were particularly fond of how his eyes would squeeze shut, and his mouth would fall open each time you grazed your thumb over his leaking head, following a short trail up and down his slit.

It was such a mesmerizing sight that you brought your hand up from his neck to touch his face. Every movement of one hand was echoed by the other as you explored each feature.

The severe line of his jaw. His large chin. The sharp cheekbones and flat brow. His long, elegant nose. The pink plush of his lips, from which he let out such tantalizing moans and whimpers.

Once you had taken in every inch of his face, you cupped his jaw in your left hand to feel it work as you sped the ministrations of your right hand. His eyes squeezed even further shut, and he grunted like an animal. But you didn’t stop. You only went faster and faster.

“Are you nearly finished?” you asked teasingly.

Ettore cracked open his eyes, looking from your taunting smile to your hand, working him so skillfully, then back to you. He moaned almost inaudibly, and that animalistic hunger returned to his eyes. He had been locked in a cage for too long, and now you had set him free.

“Yes,” he moaned, almost too quiet to hear.

You brought your thumb to rest against his lower lip, smiling at the feeling of his increasingly frantic breath against her.

For so long, you had feared this man. And now he was reduced to putty in your hands.

With a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, you pressed your thumb further into his lip and let your other hand slow, ignoring his protestations. “Before I let you finish,” you said, your voice tauntingly innocent, “I need you to answer a question for me. Can you do that?”

Ettore’s body jerked wildly as he desperately tried to regain some of the friction you had just deprived him of, but his eyes stayed locked on yours.

He knew he would do anything you asked him to then.

If you asked him to jump? He’d ask how high.

If you demanded he get down on his knees and beg? He’d do so happily.

If you told him to throw himself out of the airlock? He wouldn’t hesitate.

Compared to what he would do, what you actually asked of him seemed so simple.

“Fine…” he gasps, tightening his grip on your waist as though you would pull away. “What is it?”

You smirked, savoring that dark look in his eyes. How could you ever have been scared of it?

Then you squeezed his pulsing cock, just past the point of pleasure, to emphasize the power you held over him.

And, of course, he loved it. Groaning as his head toppled over into your shoulder. You carded your hand through his short hair as you whispered in his ear, “What feels better, my hand or the Box?”

Any pain, any embarrassment at being so pathetically at your beck and call, or any emotion other than his desire for you faded at the question. All that mattered was you and your perfect touch.

It felt wonderful even when you tugged on his hair quite hard to make him face you again. The answer was written on his face, in every piece of the complete, utter joy he felt in every inch of him, but especially where your skin met his.

“You,” he said, the word like a prayer. “You.”

Your responding smile was wicked, and you almost went back on your promise not to kiss him. But you resisted and began pumping his cock at a breakneck pace, brushing each sweet spot with every stroke and letting your pinky graze against his balls each time you came to his base.

It takes every ounce of what little restraint Ettore had to not scream at the overwhelming bliss. It was so much, too much. It was everything.

But what finally pushed him over the edge was you leaning in again to whisper against his cheek, “Just wait until you feel my cunt, Ettore.”

There was a sharp gasp, a guttural cry, a whimper, and a grunt, and then he was spent. Thank God his boxers were thick, or there would have been a very obvious stain at the front of his scrubs.

Ettore whimpered again as he looked into your eyes again, unsure what this meant or what would happen next. He was so drunk on his release that words failed him, or else he no doubt would have said something stupid and ruined his chances of actually getting to experience what you had promised just before he came.

You removed your right hand from his pants, wrapping it around his neck like the left, soothingly stroking the peach fuzz at the base of his skull as he came down from his high.

There was a new look in those blue eyes. Not hungry, not animalistic. Not angry or predatory. No, it was almost reverent.

Who would have ever thought that Ettore, the murderer, rapist, and monster, was capable of a look like that?

You parted your lips and leaned ever so slightly into him. “Thank you,” you whispered against his lips. “For letting me just watch. I think… after giving me that, you deserve a treat, don’t you?”

Ettore didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He could only stare at you as pleading vulnerability crept over his face. The look of a puppy begging for a treat.

Then, he nodded, his only pleading answer.

You ran a hand through his hair again, making him wait just a moment more. “Kiss me, Ettore.” His eyes went wide at the command. “Kiss me the way you really want to.”

His throat bobbed, and he nodded again, still holding your gaze. Then, before you could even take a breath, he pounced.

Ettore’s lips were hot on yours as he kissed you deeper and more passionately than you’d ever been kissed before. It took only a moment before it felt like your souls were melding together for how close he held you. He did not relent until you were both struggling for breath.

Even then, he kept his lips pressed against yours as though he wasn’t quite ready to let you go.

“Thank you,” he said softly, the sound sending tingles up your spine.

You just sat there, smiling against him for a moment, wishing you could have taken him inside you. Perhaps you were fine now, and if he could get hard again, you could…

But then your watches both beeped the hour. He’d been there an hour. Someone was bound to notice he wasn’t scrubbing the halls soon.

So, you reluctantly pushed him away, heart clenching as he weakly fought to hang on to you. “I want to come back,” he whined.

You didn’t reply as you dressed again, your pain mostly gone, and pulled a clean rag out of another worktable drawer for him to clean himself. As you went to shut the drawer, an idea sparked in your mind. You grabbed another rag and ran to the sink, bunching the cloth as you moved.

Ettore looked on in confusion as you shoved the rag down and down into the drain until you couldn’t reach it anymore. But then realization set in, and he grinned wickedly.

You turned to him and returned the smile. “I think I may need to call maintenance tomorrow.”

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Chocolate-flavoured lips (part 1)

Sanji x reader (romantic); Nami x reader (platonic). This is part one of two.

Hurt/comfort, romance. NSFW. Mentions of heavy themes - slavery, (briefly) eating disorders.

*****

There was something strange about you; Sanji knew it from the very first day.

It didn't bother him, of course. As far as he was concerned, a pretty girl like you had the right to be any definition of odd, weird or bizarre she liked. Also, you were a friend of Luffy, and a member of his crew: being strange was almost a preliminary condition. You were kind, friendly, a capable doctor, and he just needed to think about the way your hips moved as you walked, rolling like the waves on the calm surface of the sea and making your buttocks sway in such a pleasant and enticing manner, to feel butterflies in his stomach.

So, he wasn't worried. He didn't think you posed a danger to the rest of the crew, or were hiding something beyond personal matters everyone was entitled to keep to themselves. He was simply... intrigued, his curiosity aroused by a probably unimportant matter, that a person in his position could not help noticing: your relationship with food.

Being the ship's cook, Sanji had been quick to learn his new crewmates' eating habits. He knew Luffy would eat next to anything but preferred meat; that Zoro cared more about alcohol than solid food but disliked rice balls; that the fastest way to put Nami in a good mood was to serve her the tangerines of the little tree she had taken with her from her village, either at the end of a meal or freshly squeezed in a juice; that Usopp needed more coffee than anyone else in the morning and was allergic to peanuts. Simple things, little tricks that perhaps his crewmates didn't even know he had noticed and remembered; but that was fine by Sanji, and as long as the others were satisfied as they stood from the table, he was as well.

And then there was you; you, who had insisted you had no favourite food or a particular aversion to anything, and who never failed to say "That was amazing, Sanji-kun." at the end of each meal, before offering to help him with the dishes. You, who seemed grateful and even relieved of any morsel of food you were given and who Sanji could not believe ate so little.

It was disconcerting. On his first morning on the ship, after he had gotten up extra early to prepare a good breakfast for the rest of the crew, he had been disappointed to hear you request "Just a cup of coffee, Sanji-kun, if you can." ignoring the eggs, bagels, waffles and pancakes (with three different sauces!) he had prepared to thank his new friends for welcoming him among them. It all looked fantastic, you had hurried to add noting his dismayed expression, but you were still full from the previous evening.

Which, Sanji supposed, was a legitimate explaination... or at least it would have been, if you hadn't told him the very same thing on the next morning, and then on the next, and so on. In the end, he stopped asking, and switched to present you with the largest coffee cup he had found, almost the size of a beer mug, as soon as you entered the kitchen; and the grateful, still sleepy but happy smile you never failed to thank him with was enough to heal him from any disappointment... even if it was more than a little weird to see you limit yourself to your drink while the others gorged. A single cup of coffee, that was what you wanted for the most important meal of the day: nothing solid. A coffee... with a single drop of milk, which sometimes you looked almost guilty adding to your cup.

Sanji was no doctor, but he knew that people needed food to remain healthy and as an energy source; moreover, Zeff had often told him, pirates needed to eat well and abundantly, since managing a ship was laborious work, they could be called to fight at any moment and never knew for sure when they would eat next. It made sense (most of what his old mentor and adoptive father taught him did, even though Sanji had been loathe to admit it) and it could not be denied all the Straw Hat pirates had an healthy appetite, especially after a fight or if they had something to celebrate.

Except you.

You ate like a bird, so much that sometimes there was no need to clean your plate, and just a few morsels were enough to make you say "I am full, thank you." At first, Sanji thought you simply didn't like his cooking, which would have been a reasonable, albeit embarrassing, explanation, and were simply too kind to tell him. Already feeling guilty his cooking had forced you to go hungry, instead of enjoying your lunches and dinner like the rest of the crew, Sanji pulled you aside one day (you were wearing a new dress, he noticed; it looked amazing on you, but after all, what didn't?) and asked to know what exactly you liked to eat, if there was a food you particularly enjoyed, and what exactly he was doing wrong: he was grateful you were trying to spare his feelings, but his pride as a cook demanded each and every of his crewmates were satisfied with the food he prepared, even if it meant spending his nights experimenting with new ingredients and techniques, or prepare your lunches and dinners separately from those of the others.

In response, you blinked, clearly perplexed. "I... I don't understand, Sanji-kun. There is nothing wrong with your cooking; everything you prepare is delicious."

You were alone in the kitchen, after you had as usual offered to help him with the washing, side by side in front of the sink, close enough he could see how plush your lips looked, especially with that new lipstick Nami had helped you choose... and especially when you used them to say his name. "I'm sorry, maybe I should have told you before, I didn't mean to seem ungrateful..."

Sanji hurried to explain you had done nothing wrong. "It is just... you eat so little, I was afraid you were limiting yourself to only what you needed to survive because there was something wrong with the taste..."

"There is not! Absolutely. To be honest, I didn't even know food could taste so good. I know you didn't train as a bartender, but even your coffee is amazing!"

The evident sincerity and gratitude in your voice had been a balm for Sanji's soul; his new crewmates were not avaricious with compliments for his cooking, but knowing you enjoyed it made him particularly happy. Still...

"It is just that... you really eat little." he added, feeling that now that he had raised the topic that had given him so much to think about in the last days, he couldn't simply let it go until he had received a satisfactory answer "Not only much less than the others, but too little for an adult woman to remain in good health. This... worried me, a little bit. I don't want you to starve, (name)."

"There is no need to fear."

"That can't be right. You need..."

"Truly. I appreciate your concern, but you have no reason to be troubled." you insisted; your tone was still the friendly, kind one Sanji had learnt to know since you had become acquainted, but at the same time there was a new determination in your voice, as if you were subtly warning him against insisting... as if you wanted to end that conversation, or at least to change the topic, as soon as you could "If I ever feel hungry, or in the unlikely case you serve us something I dislike, I will tell you, I promise."

That should have been enough to reassure Sanji, and it had been - sort of. In the end, he had told himself, there really was nothing to worry about; they had more than enough food for everyone on the ship, and as a doctor, you had to know the benefits of an healthy nutrition better than anyone else. Not everyone could be a bottomless pit like Luffy!

Still. Still, your relationship with food was something he really couldn't make sense of, and that kept arousing his curiosity, no matter how many times Sanji told himself he had no reason, and even less the right, to stick his nose in your business.

Then there was your interest in the kitchen leftovers. Zeff had taught him that wasting food, either letting it go bad or simply because one didn't like it or didn't know how to make use of it, was the greatest shame for a cook, as well as an imprudent behaviour for someone who could not go to the store every time they wanted, since they travelled by sea. That had been a lesson Sanji had taken to heart, the terrible memories of the weeks he had spent eating rotten food, including moldy bread, before he and his mentor had been saved, still vivid in his memory. He had promised himself to never waste food; it was not always easy to serve fruit (including Nami's tangerines) and vegetables on the ship, but at least rice, legumes and oatmeal could last for months if properly stored, and the Merry's kitchen had a large fridge he could use to increase the aliments' durability. Sanji knew it was unpleasant to eat the same dish for three days in a row because one of the ingredient was going to spoil soon, but he had never thrown away a single head of lettuce gone bad and didn't intend to start now.

Still, his caution in using food efficiently and preserve it as long as it could be was nothing compared to yours. "This was really good, but I am full; can you please set it aside, Sanji-kun, so I can eat it tomorrow?" you were in the habit to say to him, after a meal you had clearly enjoyed, but at the end of which your plate was still half-full. Every time, he assured you he would, even setting a small area in the fridge aside especially for your food, since you didn't want anyone else to have to eat what you had touched; every time, you thanked him with the sort of smile and gratitude in your eyes that could have melt an iceberg, and then made sure to eat what you had saved from the previous meal. That was normal; that was something he could understand and even approve, since Sanji could never be friends with someone who wasted food in any way.

It was only when he found you taking scraps from the garbage can that he started worrying.

"(Name)? Is that you?" Sanji asked, undisguised astonishment in his voice; he had woken up in the middle of the night, and decided a glass of hot milk was just what he needed to go back to sleep. He expected the kitchen to be empty given the time, but even if you had also woken up craving a midnight drink or snack, that would have been fine with him; but the scene in front of him was enough to leave Sanji speechless.

You were kneeling in front of the large bin he used to throw away food and other perishable products, busy digging through it barehanded. On a plate on the floor next to you was the loot of your search: a few pieces of apple peel, half - no, a third of a chicken leg, a couple spoonfuls of tomato sauce he had used to season the pasta, and a few half-brown leaves of salad.

Caught in the act, you gaped, suddenly terrified as if you had been seen standing next to a dead body with a bloody knife in your hand. "Sanji-kun..."

"What are you doing?" he asked, flabbergasted; he didn't mean to sound accusing, let alone aggressive, but he saw you flinch as you stood and backed away from the bin and the plate, as if to put as much distance as you could between you and the incriminating evidence.

"I... I just wanted to..."

You looked so helpless, so embarrassed and even fearful of what he could think or do, Sanji felt he needed to reassure you, even though he couldn't even begin to understand what you were doing.

"It's all right; you did nothing wrong." he gently added as he approached; he lifted the plate you had prepared, and as he contemplated the miserable meal you had put together, he felt as if he was ten years old again, forced to order his stomach to swallow the moldy food he had left. What in the world had led you to want to eat that? He knew there were some situations, both on ships and on land, in which stealing food was treated as a major crime and punished accordingly, but he could not believe that was what had motivated you "It is just... well, if you were hungry you could simply take something from the fridge or the pantry. Even if I noticed, I wouldn't be crossed, and Luffy even less. I don't want you to have to resort..."

"I wasn't hungry."

"... no?"

"Not at all. I ate more than enough at dinner, as usual; that pasta was the best I had ever had." you assured as you smiled shyly at him; as usual, that was enough to make his heart skip a beat "It is just... I saw you throw these things away while you prepared, and I thought they were still usable..."

"But they are not."

"They are. Maybe they would not be as tasty as they were three days ago, but they are still edible." you insisted; you looked at him, and bitterness blossomed in your smile "You think I am mad, don't you?"

He didn't. But... "I don't, but..." Sanji hesitated, wondering how to give voice to his thoughts without risking to offend you. Was this the first time you did it, or was it a recurring behaviour? After all he didn't keep track of the content of the garbage can, who would?, and the thought of you, slipping out of your cabin every night to rummage in it looking for half-edible food was... it was heartbreaking, whatever the reason "But I don't want you to have to eat scraps when there is healthy, good food just three steps away. You remember what I told you and the others about my past?"

"Of course I do."

"Then you'll believe me when I say I never throw away something that is still safe to eat; eating spoiled food could make you sick, you must know it better than I do. And the fact that you are taking it back from the garbage can means it is dirty, which is also a danger to your health."

"I know, I am sorry..."

"(name)." Sanji said, leaving the plate on the kitchen counter to take your hands in his; was this the first physical contact between the two of you, in more than a month since you had first met? It probably was, he reflected, if one did not consider your fingers brushing against each other when he passed you a fork or a plate. It felt sweet, somehow; it felt right "Please. You don't have to explain anything to me. I know I am not your father and you are an adult, but... what would you do if you found out one of your crewmates did that?"

"I would ask them to stop." you admitted "As a doctor, and as a friend."

"Exactly. And as your friend, and as a cook, I ask you not to do it anymore. Throwing away spoiled food is perfectly reasonable; and between the two of us, we waste so little already."

"All right." you capitulated; you looked shyly at him, still clearly ill at ease "I won't do that anymore, you have my word."

Sanji was happy to hear that, and he was even happier when you accepted his proposal for a glass of warm milk, that the two of you drank sitting face to face in a companionable silence, your knees touching his under the table. Before leaving, he returned the scraps you had taken out to the garbage can, hoping in his heart that no more recuperations would occur.

"You will not... tell anyone, will you?" you murmured as you both left the kitchen, a moment before you had to part to return to your respective cabins. Sanji looked at you, displaying his most bewildered expression.

"Tell anyone what?" he asked, happy to see you smile once more, this time full of gratefulness.

"Thank you, Sanji-kun." you murmured; a moment of hesitation, and then your lips were pressed against his cheek, the touch chaste and brief but resolute. He barely had the time to realize what was happening (you were kissing him. You were kissing him. You were kissing him!!) that you had left already, scuttling away along the corridor in the direction of your cabin.

Momentarily forgetful of the situation he had found you in, Sanji was happy no one else was awake on the ship in that moment and could see how furiously he had blushed.

In the next weeks, Sanji ordered himself not to monitor the content of the garbage can in the kitchen, like he was often tempted to do; he even went as far as closing his eyes as he cleaned the dishes into it after a meal (even though a couple of times he ended up spilling the scraps on the floor; Zoro saw once, and looked strangely at him) determined to remain in the dark regarding a matter that concerned you and you alone. You had given him his word, and as far as Sanji was concerned, that was enough; you were free to do as you deemed right, and if he ever found out you had broken your word, his reaction would have been of worry, rather than of disappointment.

Still, he couldn't help being worried, especially after a conversation with Nami, one day the whole crew was setting out to explore the new island they had just reached.

"Do you want us to buy something for dinner?" the red-haired navigator asked him; as usual, she and you had decided to have a walk together, perhaps do some shopping. Sanji, who as a rule preferred taking care of the grocery shopping himself, blinked.

"No, thank you. I'll do it, as usual."

"Are you sure?" Nami insisted, having noticed the confusion on the cook's expression "Because you had asked (name) to buy a few things last week, so I thought..."

"... I did what?""

And so he learnt that just a week before, on the last island you had visited, you had gotten separated and Nami had seen you coming out of a large grocery store, your purchases in a bag. Didn't Sanji take care of food shopping yesterday after we docked, as usual?, she had asked, surprised, and you had told her he had asked you to buy a couple of things he had forgotten.

"... but judging from your expression it was a lie. Am I right? I did notice (name) looked... flustered as we spoke..."

They looked at each other, suddenly worried for a reason neither could quite grasp. They were the last ones still on the ship, their friends waiting for them on the pier; you were laughing at something Usopp was telling you, the image of a happy, serene girl without a worry in the world.

Sanji had long started suspecting that image was fake, an illusion you deliberately projected to others, but perhaps he had not yet realized how much.

"You guys are coming?" Luffy called; Sanji smiled and waved back, aware you were looking at him, but immediately dropped the act as he spoke to Nami in a whisper.

"You guys go. Whatever happens, do not let (name) come back to the ship before I have caught up."

"What? Why are you...?"

"Nami, please. There is something important I need to do."

"Then I want to know it." the navigator whispered back urgently "(name) is my friend; if she is... in danger, or if there is something worrying her, I want to know. I want to help her."

She was clearly sincere; as the only girls in the crew, the two of you shared a cabin, but what had started as a forced cohabitation had quickly developed in a firm friendship. If even Nami had no idea of what bothered you, it had to be nothing... or something so important you were determined to keep hidden.

"Nami, please." he whispered; he hadn't meant to sound desperate, but the navigator chose to relent.

"All right. But if you do find something I want to know." she ordered; then, she skipped towards the pier, and towards you. A moment later she had slipped her arm through yours, decisively leading you away from the ship.

Sanji's heart was heavy with guilt as he, a minute later, opened the door of the girls' cabin. The room was as large as the one he shared with Luffy, Usopp and Zoro, even though only two bunks were occupied; he knew yours was the one on the left. Not knowing what exactly he was looking for, Sanji started inspecting the bed, checking the space under the frame, then under the mattress, and finally under the pillow; he found absolutely nothing but a few dust bunnies on the floor. The small table next to the bed was empty but for a pocket book you had bought a couple islands before, and the only other element in your area, a small locker facing the end of the bed, contained only your clothes, medical tools neatly arranged on a shelf and a few toiletries and cosmetics.

A complete failure; he had invaded your privacy, rummaging through your things like a thief looking for valuables to steal and embroiling Nami, your best friend, in his plan. All for nothing. What exactly did he expect to find? Sanji had no reason to suspect you were up to something wrong, illegal, or that could endanger you or the rest of the crew. Maybe on that day you had entered the grocery store to buy some personal hygiene products, or something else you were too embarrassed or simply wanted not to share with the others, and he had no right to stick his nose in your business like he just had. Sanji only had your best interests at heart, still fearing your unusual eating habits were due to an health problem or a disorder that could potentially endanger you, but he had to admit it: he had no reason and no right to do what he had just done, and if the roles were reversed he would have been furious.

Sanji made sure to leave everything like he had found it, including the folded blanket at the end of the bed, and as he was leaving the cabin an unexpected but familiar noise reached his ears... a creaking sound, coming from one of the beams of the floor. Nothing he hadn't heard a thousand times before, he vaguely thought, even though the Merry had set sail barely a few weeks before and it was otherwise in pristine condition, it was a bit surprising that the flooring was already damaged...

Unless...

The creaking beam was just next to your bed; Sanji kneeled, and moved away the small rug covering it, the one that he remembered you had brought soon after leaving the Baratie. He had no experience in carpentry, but he immediately realized the beam had been broken and then put back in its place like a lid; in the space under it, Sanji found some food, no doubt the things Nami had seen you leave the shop with a week ago, and a cutlery set, wrapped in a napkin. A box of cookies; three different bean cans; a bag of carrots; two pieces of hard cheese; a water bottle. Simple, cheap aliments that you could eat secretly as soon as your roommate had left the room, without anyone knowing, and that could be kept hidden for a while before going bad.

Seeing that measly loot that you had nonetheless done your best to conceal, as if you feared to be forced to starve or to need in any case to find sustenance for yourself, broke Sanji's heart. He delicately put the beam and then the rug back in their place; he left the cabin, closing the door behind him, and hurried to catch up with the rest of the crew.

When he joined the others, Nami was quick to meet his gaze questioningly; Sanji answered with a mute, but determined, shake of his head. He didn't doubt the navigator would keep his (well, your) secret, and would do everything she could to help; but he felt already tremendously guilty for what he had done, and the least he could do was to prevent anyone else from meddling in your affairs... which he still couldn't make heads or tails of.

You ate as little as a bird. You saved your food scrupolously, and were willing to eat even half-spoiled aliments. You bought food with your own money and hid it in your room, as if you feared your (regular, abundant and, not to brag, delicious) meals to be taken from you. Why? He could not stop wondering; he could not stop feeling there was a very serious, probably heartbreaking reason behind your behaviour, and Sanji wanted to know the truth, not simply out of curiosity or because his pride as a cook had been hurt. He was worried for you, because... well, because you were his friend, and he was yours, and he wanted you to be happy.

That was all. From now on, Sanji promised himself as he joined the little group who was reaching the centre of the village, he would stop sticking his nose into your business, but he would do his best to offer you friendship and support, in case you needed them.

He was going to leave the others and ask for directions to the local market, but he got an idea when he and the others walked past a cute ice-cream parlour; many people were sitting at the round tables outside under a green-roofed veranda, including quite a few couples. Evidently it was a popular place for a date...

Talk about killing two birds with one stone. "(name), do you like ice-cream?" he asked as he approached; you, until then busy listening to another of Usopp's tales, blinked, clearly taken aback.

"Ice-cream? I... I don't think I've ever eaten one."

Sanji was so focused on his little plan he didn't really notice that surprising statement. "Well, you'll love it, I promise. Shall we go? My treat."

"Oh, that's a great idea! We could..." Luffy intervened, right before Nami elbowed him into silence. For once, the captain seemed to take the hint. "Oh. All right, we'll do something else."

"Shall we?" Sanji said; it would have been a lie to say he didn't want to see you eat (between meals for the first time since you had met, and more for the pleasure of tasting something good than for simple sustainance) but after all, there were worse way to spend an afternoon than in the company of a pretty girl - a pretty girl who was now blushing furiously as she also caught the implications of that invitation, and then gave him the biggest, happiest smile Sanji had ever seen.

"I'd be happy to, Sanji-kun."

That was the first ice-cream of your life, lemon and vanilla, with whipped cream on top. On the next island the crew visited, the two of you went out together again to the best parlour in town (and then fought a group of mercenaries intent on getting rich with Luffy's bounty) and then you did it again the following week, and again and again. Soon, it became a tradition, a moment you and Sanji shared away from the rest of the world and of the crew; he had decided it was his duty as a cook and as a friend (that had quickly decided he wouldn't mind becoming something more, but still) that it was his duty to introduce you to the joys of good food, and you were happy to help him sample the traditional aliments of the different places your journeys brought you to, but that moment, an ice-cream together... that was only for you. That was special.

"Is this a date?" you asked, unexpectedly bold, as you walked back to the Merry after your third outing; Sanji smiled, suddenly aware of how sweet your cocolate-flavoured lips would taste if he kissed you.

"It depends." he gently answered, perceiving it was not yet time for an approach; it was plain to see you appreciated his company, especially during your little outings, but Sanji had heard you confess to Nami you had never had a boyfriend and the mere idea of being flirted with made you nervous. "It can be whatever you want it to be."

The problem was, Sanji did want to flirt with you. He did want your expeditions in search of the best ice-cream in town to be official dates, and not simply two friends spending time together. He did want to be your boyfriend - a realization that struck him suddenly, one day he saw you happily helping Nami set the table, your eyes sparkling with excitement at something you were telling her, and he found himself unable to look away. He wanted you, because you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, and also so much more.

Sanji never told you he had snooped around in your cabin, and found your little stash; he knew he would have to, if your relationship actually developed beyond a simple friendship, but he had to admit he wasn't looking forward to that moment. He had never gone back to the broken beam under your bedside rug to check whether you kept buying food in secret, or were actually tapping into your provisions, just like he had never checked the content of the garbage can; he was still worried for you, even though he couldn't say exactly why, or what for, but now that he was no longer obsessing about your weird relationship with food he had realized how beautiful and sweet and funny you were, and was determined to give it his best shot.

Sanji fell sick one day, after an unexpectedly early winter had led him to catch a cold. It was nothing dangerous, at least for a young, healthy man, but you remain by his bedside night and day, checking again and again the medicine you had prepared was taking effect, changing the cold washcloth on his forehead, and simply keeping him company. You made him a chicken soup, apologizing in advance for the flavour.

"I am not a great cook; and nothing I could ever make would measure with your dishes." you explained with a tiny smile as you set the tray down on his lap "But it will keep you warm and hydrated; you'll feel better in no time, I promise."

He did, the brief illness only keeping him in bed for three days, but part of him missed having you all to himself, even if just as a patient needing to be assisted, and when he thanked you for your work, you pointed out you had only done your duty as a doctor...

"... but I'm glad I could help you. I... I don't know what I would do if something were to happen to you." you admitted. Sanji smiled, taking both of your hands in his.

"I am not going anywhere." he said; that was a commitment no one was fully capable of making, a pirate perhaps less than anyone, and you both knew it, but that didn't make his words less important, for any of you "I promise you."

Three months after your first ice-cream date, one day you brought the dirty dishes to the sink after dinner and he saw they were empty - all of them, including yours, for the first time. Sanji's heart was bursting; he felt the need to celebrate, and when he saw your smile, he knew he wasn't the only one.

"Everything of your liking, miss?"

"It was all amazing. My compliments to the chef."

That night, he once again felt unable to sleep, and he went to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk; once again, he found you there.

"I couldn't sleep, I swear; I wasn't..." you stammered, a saucepan in your hand, while you used the other to vaguely point at the garbage can five steps away. Sanji smiled to reassure you; he trusted you, and in any case he had nothing to accuse you of.

"You owe me no explanation. You know that."

"I know; but I have always kept my word, and I want you to know."

You drank your milk sitting next to each other, your knees touching under the table, both aware that there was no need to talk. In the end, you looked at him. "Sanji-kun?"

"Yes, (name)?"

You swallowed, as if gathering your courage. "May I... may I kiss you?"

He didn't sleep a wink that night, but laughed softly in his pillow, giddy and excited, the taste of your lips (not of chocolate, or vanilla, or of any of the many ice-cream flavours he had seen you taste in the last weeks; it was something different, sweet and warm and sensual enough to make him loose his mind) still burning on his.

He made you a cake for your birthday, a month later; you ate a large slice, Sanji feeding you part of it with his spoon, and (once the others had left you alone) you let him lick whipped cream off your fingers. "You seem to enjoy eating a little more than when we first met." he whispered as he pressed his lips against yours, your kisses multiplying, neverending, and still not enough to placate the hunger burning in his belly "Does it have to do with the cook, as well as the quality of the food?"

You laughed, sitting in his lap with your arm around his shoulders; still, when you answered, you were more serious than he had ever seen you. "Believe me, Sanji-kun, you have no idea how right you are."

You decided to make it official, letting the rest of the crew know you were a couple (finally was the single, collective answer. Even from Luffy) and promised to keep the PDA at a minimum; Nami hugged you, and winked at Sanji behind your back in a sign of acknowledgment. She knew you were strong, enough to take care of yourself and overcome any obstacle; but she knew how much you cared for Sanji, and was happy and relieved he reciprocated your feelings and would treasure them as you deserved.

Sanji was happy, and you were as well. He drew a milk heart on the surface of your coffee before offering you the mug; you concocted a new migraine medication and brought it to him in a tea cup every time you sensed he needed it, even before he had ask for it. You took care of the dirty dishes together, standing close enough your hip would brush against his; you walked hand in hand, your fingers interwined, or with the comforting weight of his arm around your shoulders. You sometimes argued; you never fought. He wrote to Zeff to tell him about you; you told him how much you wished he could have met your mother. You took his favourite shirt, that Sanji had inadvertently torn during a fight, mended it, and placed it back on his bed as a surprise; on the next morning, he brought you breakfast in bed, and kept you there cuddling for two more hours. He pushed you against the wall to kiss you until you were both breathless; you sat on his lap as you both witnessed the sun disappear behind the horizon.

And then, something else happened - something else weird, and inexplicable, that concerned you and that Sanji didn't know how to interpret.

[ohdearlingwhathappened]

Tugging on Sparkstrings

TfP! Starscream x Male!human!reader Oneshot

Summary: The 3 times you said thank you to Starscream and the first time he did the same. WC: 3909

A/N: A gift for @sunlightera and beta'd by @staijey-the-creator Hope you all enjoy!!

Starscream missed the time before Megatron returned; three solar cycles surely wasn’t a long time for any Cybertronian, but the comeback of his “Master” made that time feel all that much shorter. A few months ago, he thought he had finally been rid of the merciless warlord after ripping that slagging shard of dark energon out of his chassis, but after the Autobot scum had tampered with his master’s frame, Megatron had come back to, and Starscream had payed for it dearly. And of course there’s the… newest addition of the Nemesis. A human who Knockout had picked up on one of his racing jaunts- only allowed to stay because Knockout was having a difficult time after the loss of his partner and he was apparently useful in the laboratory. 

Starscream would never admit to it outloud, but he rather enjoyed your company. 

You never failed to make the mech’s derma quirk upwards whenever he had to visit Knockout for a repair; something he’s fallen into the habit of doing far more often since he had gotten to know you.

“Well where is he?” Starscream scoffed, rolling his eyes when the resident doctor told him you were off ship for the day, his talons tapped at the medical slab beneath him while his legs were examined. He had reported to Knockout that he felt something jostling in his lower right leg, near his pede.

“I sent him to get more supplies, my inventory is running low.” Knockout raised an optical ridge and gave the lieutenant a once over. Slowly, a smirk formed on his face as he dropped Starscream’s leg, “Y’know… if I didn’t know any better, I’d start believing you missed the fleshy.”

“What preposterous- how could you- Why would you-” Starscream sputtered, not knowing how to cover his aft.

“You want to know how I know?” Knockout stood to his full height, servos on hips.

“...” Starscream didn’t acknowledge Knockout further, other than glancing at him.

“Because you only ever come in here for superficial things, like buffable dents or small pebbles somewhere in your frame. If you cared for your frame like I do,” Knockout gestured to his, probably freshly, buffed frame as he spoke, “then I might be willing to believe your supposed reasons for coming into my lab near daily, but considering you’re the same mech who left this same lab looking an absolute mess a few months ago, I’ve come to the conclusion that a sudden interest in cosmetics is not what ails you.”

Starscream sat absolutely shell shocked at the medic’s word, not sure how to proceed. The doctor had called his proverbial bluff, and he was undeniably embarrassed to have feelings for a squishy, but he wasn’t expecting what came from Knockout next,

“I’d tell him.”

“What?!”

“Oh please. You’re his favorite patient to help with. Why delay the inevitable? Now get out of my lab with your nonexistent rattling pebble, I’ve got actual things to do.” And just like that, Starscream was practically pushed out of the lab, the whooshing of the door behind him solidifying that their conversation was over.

After another moment of just standing in front of the door like a scraplet had just eaten half his processor. He started moving down the halls aimlessly, an occasional grumble escaped him about Knockout having his helm hit too many times on the battlefield. It was a quiet day on The Nemesis, Megatron was out checking on the energon mines- a job he no longer trusted to Starscream considering the last time he had hidden some away in an abandoned mine.

“Oh! Starscream!”

Scrap.

“Good afternoon! I hate to bother you, are you busy?” Screamer looked down to see you looking back up at him with a smile, a rare sight coming from anyone else on the ship. Normally, if anyone had asked him his business, Starscream would snap at them to mind their own, but he found himself weak to their gentle nature around the ship. It was nice… especially after a meeting with Megatron. “You don’t have to help, if you’re busy. This stuff is just a bit heavy.”

He snapped out of the thoughts going on in his processor and focused back on the human. The man held about five, large bags of different auto supplies, though it’s likely all high-grade polish for that pompous medic. Starscream leans down to take something from you. 

“I can spare some time, just this once… human.” 

You handed the giant mech three of the bags, bags that look so small and insignificant once they were put in his servos. You both noticed the difference, a small chuckle was drawn from you, the ridiculousness of the situation being anything but subtle. The absence of weight from the bags Starscream took allowed a spring to be put back into your step.

Once you both reach Knockout’s lab, Starscream put down the bags, not wanting Knockout to make another comment about Starscream craving your attention. He glanced back down at you, his arms crossing over his chassis, “Next time let me know if you need help once you get back on the ship. I shouldn’t have to find you struggling in the hallways.” 

You raised an eyebrow, a smile still on your face, “Good to know you’re so flexible with your schedule.”

Starscream found himself sputtering for the second time that day. It felt like everyone was determined to sass him one way or the other. He huffed and started his way down the hall, before hearing you call out to him again. His wings flicked, his anxiousness to get away before his vents turned on increasing by the nanoklik. 

“What is it?”

“Thank you for helping me.” Your smile is the last thing Starscream saw before you lugged all of the bags through the doorway, all while fussing at Knockout to carry his own polish from now on. 

Whirrrrrrr.

The sound of Starscream’s fans filled the hall, which pushed him to get to his habsuite to cool off his warmed frame as soon as possible. His derma formed a smile, his spark undeniably loved the way you said a simple ‘thank you’ by the way it tugged.

* * * * * *

“This is the second time in the past two decacycles that he has been missing from your lab, doctor. I suggest that you get your assistant in check before Lord Megatron deems him an unnecessary entity on this ship!” Starscream slammed a fist down on one of Knockout’s tables, an act that drew an unimpressed look to the medic’s face. Breakdown spared a glance from his place cleaning and organizing Knockout’s surgical and torture instruments, but he was decidedly too interested to participate in Starscream’s temper tantrum.

“Unstick your wings, Starscream, Y/n wasn’t feeling great today, so he is resting in his room, something that was already reported to our master, not that he paid the notice much care.” Knockout’s rolled optics return to their previous task at making sure the surgical-saw he was cleaning before he spoke again, “Feel free to visit him if you finally plan on doing something about your two’s mutual tension. At this point, I’ll be happy with whatever will light a fire under your aft and get you moving.”

“You’re out of line, Knockout! That human is nothing but a pest that doesn’t belong here in the first place. I would be more than happy to cease hearing him regard me so informally and treat me as if I am some friend.” The doctor moved his eyes from his superior and towards the ground behind him, not that Starscream noticed as he continued to rant, “I care about that irritating human as much as I do about whatever brand of polish you’ve deigned good enough from this disgusting planet- and to squish any unsightly, absurd theories you have come up with- is very little!” Starscream came within inches of Knockout’s frame and brought a talon to his chassis, the scowl on his face very much so prominent. “And I-”

“Well then…”

The energon coursing through Starscream went cold at the sound of your voice reaching his audials. Starscream whipped around, coming eye to optic with your scathing glare. You didn’t appear to be in the best of conditions- donning an oversized hoodie and sweats, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, and a thin sheen of sweat marked your brow. Knockout “cleared” his throat to garner your attention, the sound forced you to finally break eye contact with the Second-in-command of the Decepticons, who also turned, hoping the doctor might help him out of the problem of his own creation. “I’m surprised to see you out of your room, Y/n. You looked downright debilitated a couple of cycles ago. Still do, really.”

“Yeah, well, I was finally able to choke down some saltines, and I was hoping I could borrow some of Breakdown’s time to get me some soup?” You looked up to the orange-faced mech who, upon seeing your weary form, gave you a grin and a nod.

“Sure thing, little man, we can go now, if you’d like.”

“Thank you.”

Breakdown made his way to you, scooped you up into a servo, and lifted you to his shoulder, like he normally does when you both would go out for supplies or recon. The door to the lab opened and Breakdown nearly began to speed down the halls before you tapped his shoulder with your knuckles to get him to pause. You turned around to face Starscream with one last smile, “And thank you for finally voicing your feelings, Sta- sir. I’ll be sure to address you appropriately from now on. We’ll see you in a little bit, Knockout.”

And without further ado, Breakdown and you passed through the doorway, your large friend having already sent Soundwave a message about needing a groundbridge. Knockout’s expression had shifted throughout the interaction, moving from unimpressed to disdain.

“If you’re done insulting my assistant, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t further sully my lab with your presence… Fragging idiot.”

Shoved out of the medical bay for the second time in two decacycles, and it was the second time that it tugged against his protoform- only this time it was undeniably painful.

* * * * * *

A week or so later, you finally felt better, though you could admit to wanting to stay in your makeshift home on The Nemesis in order to avoid the lanky lieutenant who often stalked the halls, seemingly to avoid his own work. However, you couldn’t leave Knockout and Breakdown hanging, especially when they both have put their necks on the line for you to be allowed to live in this place- no matter how embarrassed you may be if forced to face the mech you’ve been fawning over for the past couple of months, only to be harshly pulled back to reality by said mech’s vehement speech on how your company is undesirable, to say the least.  

You felt a little ridiculous peeking around corners before fully committing to the turn, but once you made it to the lab without incident, other than greeting Steve with a good morning, the ridiculous feeling melted away into feeling vindicated instead. “Good morning to my favorite Decepticons.”

“Welcome back, for a moment I thought we were going to have to ask Megatron for a splinter of his “good stuff” if you weren’t back for another solar cycle or so.” Knockout smirked and Breakdown chuckled, working on something with his frame.

“Eugh, I’d rather you let me stay dead.” The idea of Big M’s equivalent to a purple crystal meth being anywhere near your skin, let alone inside of you sent shivers down your spine. Having given the room a look, you noticed nothing looked different, not surprising since it hadn’t been too long. You sat in a little chair Breakdown had created for you and gave yourself a little spin, “So what have you got for me to do today? I’m sure there are some things that smaller hands are needed for.”

Knockout and Breakdown looked at each other before they gave you their attention again and then went back to looking at each other with their expressions flickering here and there. The two of them were obviously using their telepathic thing, trying to figure out what exactly to say to you.

“Guys, just give it to me straight, what’s going on?”

“Well, S-”

“Starscream has been coming by everyday looking for you, and Megatron has taken notice. The Lieutenant has been instructed to meet Lord Megatron on the landing strip, and we have been warned there may be… upkeep following their meeting.” Breakdown started off fast, as if trying to rip the bandage off, only slowing when he basically admitted Megatron was blatantly admitting he was giving Starscream another round of punishments for insubordination.

You may not be happy with Starscream and his lack of tact, but your care for him didn’t evaporate over the course of a few days, so the news of him receiving a beating once again only filled you with dread.

“Well, we’ll care for him no differently than usual. His medical needs will be met by all of us… if he deems it alright.”

“He’s not the chief medical officer of this vessel last I checked, so whether he likes it or not, I will be using both of my assistants if it so pleases me.” He crossed his arms over his chassis and his smirk began to lean towards the mad scientist look, “And if he raises a fuss, I have more than enough anesthesia to keep him down during any procedures.”

“Cool it, doc. I doubt he’ll have too much to say after his ‘meeting’.” You used air quotes, not having wanted to fully believe that Starscream would once again be beaten within an inch of his life, but knew it was inevitable if he had been neglecting his job like Breakdown said. As if on cue, the lab doors opened and Starscream’s body was tossed in, like he was some after thought. His frame was dented, scratched, and marred dramatically- it resembled what Knockout told you of the punishment Starscream received when Megatron had finally been revived from his stasis.

“I trust you all will get our Second-in-Command back in working order quickly.” His hulking figure showed no signs of having just brutally harmed and dragged Starscream through the halls, “And doctor, I would recommend ensuring your pet’s knowledge on the need for productivity on my ship, and that it understands consequences.”

And with that, the leader of the Decepticons was gone.

“Alright, Screamer, let’s get you back up and running. Y/n, get your gloves- I can see small bits further in his frame than I can reach.” Knockout lifted Starscream’s limp frame, with Breakdown’s help, and put him on one of the medical berths. He turned around and can tell you haven’t moved an inch, your eyes glued to the unconscious mech. “Y/n, move. This isn’t the worst state you’ve seen a con in.”

“...Right.” You moved quickly to get your supplies, purely through muscle memory.. Ladders that were installed throughout the ship, but primarily the lab, helped you climb your way up to Starscream’s side. His visage was hard to take in, to say the least. Logically, you knew with Knockout’s expertise and perfectionism when it comes to his work, Starscream would be fine, but seeing the mech that you have fallen for, no matter how unrequited, unconscious and possibly struggling to keep his spark brought tears to your eyes. You kept your head down, no desire to look at your friends, and lower yourself into his chassis after Knockout removes the plating in your way, “Let’s get this over with.”

You hadn’t been in Starscream’s chassis like this before; his spark chamber glowed bright and strong, bringing an ease to your own heart. A shake of your head took your attention from the beautiful gleam of Starscream’s spark and back to the task at hand. Pieces of small metal littered the inside of his frame, so you got to work- each piece picked up carefully, not wanting to nick any circuits or vital points. You took one last look at the entrancing light before telling Knockout to help you up and out of the Starscream’s chassis.

“Knockout, let me know when you’re done with everything and are willing to go over his aftercare procedures when we’re on rotation.” Without waiting for a response, you left the lab, too caught up in your own thoughts to stay. The halls were quiet. 

_____________________________

Knockout had messaged you a few hours ago that Starscream was in a stable condition and he and Breakdown had to go for energon scouting. You responded back, acknowledging that you would look over the lieutenant in the meantime. And so, you had been looking over the mech who has yet to wake up for an hour or so.

You settled next to his frame, knowing if something went awry with his status, being anywhere else may make the difference between him staying as healthy as possible and a sudden decline. With a book opened on the datapad Soundwave had generously crafted especially for you, you try to focus on the words on the screen, but keeping your eyes from flicking to Starscream was near impossible. 

“You’re a fragging idiot, y’know…” You snapped at the non-responsive frame, the datapad abandoned on the medical berth before you stood and began pacing, “A primus-damned idiot! Inconsiderate! Self-involved! A downright misleading, conniving aft!”

In the midst of your yelling, tears started forming in the corners of your eyes and in a moment of rage, you harshly kicked the servo you stood by. You plopped back down with a groan and reclined your back so it met the berth, legs swung over the side, moving back and forth, “We sound like a bad joke- a robot-lover and a robot who hates him walk into a bar.”

Your laugh was dry.

“I lied.”

“Ah!” You sat up quickly and would have fallen right off the edge of the berth had Starscream not grabbed you by the collar of your shirt. Being lifted onto his chassis, his optics haven’t met yours, but he did grant you a couple of glances before he put his helm back and returned his optics to the ceiling. “What the hell, Starscream?! You scared the shit out of me!”

“Well, excuse me for attempting to clear the air- something I have in fact been trying to do for the past several solar cycles, for your information.” He didn’t move. In fact, he was oddly still in comparison to his normal gesticulations.

“The air wouldn’t have needed clearing if you had just told me you didn’t want me around to begin with.”

“I wasn’t aware that you went deaf in your time avoiding me- I lied, Y/n. Your company is- well, I mean you’re-... it doesn’t matter. What matters is that I lied about not enjoying your presence.” His optics flicked back and forth and to anywhere else that would keep you out of his vision.

“If this is your idea of an apology, you can-” You stopped and quickly crawled up the remainder of his chest plating and pulled on his chin, so he would finally face you, “You used my name.”

“What’s your point?” His eyes still occasionally flit away, easily giving away his embarrassment.

“You’ve never called me by my name. It’s always just been human or fleshy.” A smile, though small, graced your features, and Starscream felt that tug on his spark that he had been missing for weeks. After what he said in front of you, he supposed he had the subconscious fear he would never see that smile again. It was nice to see, comforting even. “Thank you.”

That stole Starscream’s attention, his optics looking into your big eyes, “Why in Primus’ name are you thanking me?”

“Well, I’ll admit your apology sucks, but the effort was there… besides, if I held on to every bad thing said to me on this ship, I’d lose my mind. Knockout isn’t exactly the easiest mech to get along with, and he and Breakdown are good friends now.” You gave him an awkward smile and shrug. 

“...What now?” Starscream quirked an optical ridge. While you were forgiving, he couldn’t believe you would just let everything go. 

“For now, recharge. We can talk more about this when you’ve just woken up from a royal beating from your megalomaniac boss.” You lied down, emotionally exhausted from the past few days. The relief Starscream’s words granted you also apparently left you ready to sleep. Your comment on the leader of the Decepticons drew a tired chuckle from the mech beneath you as you both finally fell asleep in each other’s comfort.

* * * * * *

“Wake up, Starscream.” You smile, pulling on one of his digits. He cracks an optic open, looking down to your form, hair still mussed from sleep. Seeing him awake, you climb up his frame and sit yourself on his Decepticon brand.

“That’s not my designation to you.” Starscream sneers, closing his optic and feigning going back into a recharge. “Try again, human.”

“Lieutenant?” You hum, bringing a finger up to tap your chin in mocking thought.

“Wrong.”

“Screamer?”

That got his attention, his optics opening and narrowing down at your smaller form, “You spend too much time with that imbecile doctor.”

“An imbecile doctor who had to kick us out of his lab at one point because someone couldn’t stop exaggerating his symptoms to get attention from his nurse, Starlight.” You lean down to press a kiss against his chin, finally using your name for him, smile widening to a grin when you see his own spreading across his derma.

“I have no idea what you could be talking about. The rocks on this planet easily stick in my frame, so I require additional attention.” Starscream brings a servo to your back, rubbing a digit up and down.

“Oh, is that so? Is that why you’ve stolen me away from the lab, so I can be your personal nurse?” Your laugh rings through the habsuite and Starscream’s chuckle reverberates beneath his chassis where you sit. 

“Perhaps.”

Reflecting on the relationship between you and your seeker, you can’t believe where you both were a couple of months ago in comparison to now- the spat between you both long settled after a lengthy conversation. After a day or so of caring for Starscream in the lab, Knockout had discharged him for monitoring in his habsuite, tired of having to hear the two of you going coyly back and forth. Megatron didn’t seem to care, just as long as Starscream doesn’t stand in the way of his plans. You’re snapped out of your reminiscing after a moment,

“Thank you.” His optics, no longer feigning sleep, look down to you with such warmth, a look you return but with furrowed brows and a slightly dampened smile. Your hands cup Starscream’s face to bring it into better view.

“Now, what are you thanking me for?”

“For forgiving me… for loving me.” 

“Thank you for letting me.” With a kiss on his derma, you get comfortable on his chest and close your eyes, “I changed my mind, maybe we should stay in, at least for a bit.”

“Sounds good to me, spark tugger.”

[aitadjcrazytimes]

It's been a good run

But it's time to bring this to a close!

The saga is over, C, T and I are all together. T and I are in the swing of it, C approves as much as it is possible for him to approve of anything, everyone knows about the blog and is chill.

C is back at his rightful place of walking his sister down the aisle.

I'm getting everything I want, and we're all free to make each other miserable until the day we die.

I'm not going to be updating this blog anymore! Nobody else involved with the situation will be submitting any more AITA posts either, because they are either not on tumblr or agreed it would be annoying.

I will say that there is some stuff on here that I've alluded to that isn't necessarily 100% in the spirit of things, so I've included some stuff below the cut for the folks who have caught onto that. I would not suggest reading it if you like how all of this played out and want to keep it that way. I know that's incredibly vague, but I'm not sure how to phrase it without making it weird?

Thank you all for listening and talking to me over the past few days! That's where I'm leaving it!

...

...

...

...Is everyone who wants to keep believing in the disaster polycule gone? Yes? OK!

So, this was fake. I made up the whole thing. TK and C and T and everyone else are fictional characters. Did I lie? Yes. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

Q: All of it? Even the og AITA post? The followup AITA post? The screenshots?

A: All of it.

Q: Wh... Why did you do this...?

A: Well, first this all started as a Red vs Blue fanfic for the ship Chexer (Church/Tex/Tucker)-

It started as a fanfic for Chexer. However, I was already working on a different fanfic for RVB that was totalling about 15k words at this point (+ at least 90k to go), and I knew I would never have the time or energy to write this one. I thought: yknow. this would be really funny as an aita post.

Q: It was a fanfic of a Halo fanfic series.

A: Yep!

So, I submitted Tucker's perspective. I did not expect for it to get more than maybe 100 notes at most. I totally thought someone would call it out right away.

The funny part is, if I'd dedicated all this energy to a fic instead of this blog, I'd probably have about 15-20 thousand words of fic already, but whatever, can't ruin my personal day!

Also, I wanted to see how many people would figure it out/how long it would take for it to become too obvious that this was a fandom thing. I was dropping names and RvB lore since the beginning. A few people did figure it out, and I DMed them in private to let them know.

Q: But why make the blog then?

A: Because I love to lie and be a nuisance to the general populace! <3

It was always my intent to wait until Carolina's perspective got posted (i am honestly still shocked i got away with "Carey/Georgia/West Virginia/Alabama/Miss Louisiana 1988"), let it simmer for about a day, then come clean. Which is what I'm doing now!

The reason I'm coming clean now instead of dragging it out is because I don't want anyone to feel stupid or like they got duped. You're not stupid! You were a part of this story! This was, as one anon said, a creative writing project. It was a collaboration! Thank you so much for helping me!

That said, I'm sorry to anyone that finds this disappointing! I had a blast doing this, but I will not be doing it again. I have gotten my fill. I have had my taste of being an influencer, and now I can go on with my life without ever feeling like I need to start a youtube channel.

Q: How did you keep up with a consistent timeline?

A: I didn't, especially at first. But in my time as a liar who lies about things, I have found that usually people are willing to believe you when you say "yeah, i lied about that".

Q: Wait, what about the thing with your kid?

A: Yeah, I fucked up on this one. In the other fic I was/am writing, Tucker was around 33. So, when I was saying what Junior's age was, I subtracted it from 33 and got 18. It wasn't until I was showing my partner the blog and they said "Wait, he had his kid at 13??????" that I realized I had fucked up. Oops!

Q: Was it really ALL fake?

A: For the most part. I will say that I did actually drop chocolate cake all over my tits that one time and had to shower by myself like a fucking loser. That one was true. I did also get my nails done for the first time ever, which did actually affect my typing. And I am in a band (but so is Tucker, canonically)! There are a few other things as well, but I don't want to list all of them.

Q: DID you ever read homestuck?

A: Nope. And I never will.

Even the title, though I will say that the title I came up with was "Leonard "Alpha Bitch" Church's Decidedly Not Lo-Fi Beats to Get Nasty and Get Clean To: The Movie"

Q: So there was never a combination sex/bathtime playlist?

A: Maybe! But perhaps more accurately: the combination sex/bathtime playlist was inside of you all along. You can make it. There are only three songs on there that are canon to the lore of this blog. Those are No Children by The Mountain Goats, Take It Out On Me by Thousand Foot Krutch, and one unknown song from the album Good Apollo, I'm Burning Star IV by Coheed and Cambria (Yep, the call was coming from inside the house, I gave Church my music taste). I had intended this to be Wake Up, but it's out of my hands now. The rest is yours to fill in.

Q: What's your main blog, so I can follow you?

A: Hi, this is aitadjcrazytimes. You're not getting that.

Q: Your AO3 handle?

A: Nope, not that either.

You will never find me. And that's the way I want it. You will see me in every blog. Every new follower. Every stranger you meet on the street. You will look into your discord kitten's eyes, and you will absently wonder if he was the one behind aitadjcrazytimes. And you will never know for certain.

Q: But-

A: Let me live on in your memory. The only person who knows both who I am and the fact that I did this is my partner, who is not into RvB or commonly on tumblr. I am not a RvB blog. I am not a writing blog. I am a nobody on the fringes of tumblr society who's been here long enough to know how to remain in the shadows.

And, even if you do manage to find me, against all odds:

No one will ever believe you.

I am closing my askbox. I am also closing my messages. If you have anything to say to Tucker or Me (tumblr user aitadjcrazytimes), you are welcome to do so in the replies or reblogs, but you will not be receiving an answer. I'll keep this blog up for anyone that wants to go through after the fact and do a deep dive or what have you.

Thanks to everyone who made this into the wild ride it was! Live long and get fucked or whatever! Xoxo <3

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for agreeing to be a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding even though I think she's making a huge mistake?

(Emojis so I recognize it 👰‍♀️💍🤵)

So my (24F) cousin Anna (21F) got engaged at the start of December. This was really surprising to me because the last time I saw her at Thanksgiving she was just starting to get back into dating via tinder after a couple bad breakups, and she wasn't actively seeing anyone yet. When I got home for Christmas break, my mother told me that Anna had gotten engaged to and moved in with her new boyfriend, Evan (~22/23M), an army guy she'd met three weeks before and that no one but her immediate family had even met yet.

Our family has always been pretty close, and this was concerning for a lot of reasons. 1) she literally just had a nasty breakup with her rebound boyfriend after a nasty breakup with her last long-term relationship, making this guy her 4th serious boyfriend this year, 2) she historically has very bad taste in men, every boyfriend she has ever had had treated her horribly and she ties her entire self-worth up into how her boyfriend sees her so she's literally never been single for more than a couple weeks since high school, 3) her older sister (28F) literally just left a 13 year abusive relationship with the guy who started grooming her when she was 15 and he was 28, 4) the groom is about to ship out for a 9 month deployment a month after their March wedding and military men are notorious for cheating or divorcing on long deployments, 5) she wants her dream wedding in March (giving us only 2 months to plan and fundraise), despite her parents already being in tight financial straits bc they started building a house right before unexpectedly needing to take in and help provide for their eldest daughter and her two kids and both my grandparents (who live with them) having sudden drops in their health to the point where my grandfather probably will pass in the next couple months and my grandmother could pass at any time (though tbf, were pretty sure no one has told Anna this since my grandparents don't want to scare her and her mom's in denial).

I also just really don't like the groom bc the one time I met him he made a ton of racist and homophobic jokes despite there being multiple black and queer family members present, but if that were the only thing I could probably bite my tongue since I don't think that's something that bothers her or anyone else in the family. I'm just really worried about her, since it seems like she's been going through something for a while and I know how hard this is on my whole family, especially my grandparents, since we all are really scared about what's going to happen to her if things go wrong and considering the circumstances, that's a good chance this will go wrong.

I want to make it clear, I do really want this to work out for her. She's head over heels in love and he seems to care about her too. I just don't expect it to go well and I've said as much to anyone who asked how I feel about it.

Here's where I could be the asshole: Anna's really having a hard time with the entire family telling her this is a bad and impulsive idea, feeling like everyone who has a problem with it isn't supporting her. She called and asked me to be a bridesmaid, specifically because "you've always looked out for and supported me even when no one else did, so I really want you to be my bridesmaid." I told her I would love to be there and support her however she wanted me to, and I fully intend to be the best bridesmaid I can be because I want this to be a happy memory for her and to take as much stress off her and her parents as possible. But now she thinks I support this marriage when I definitely don't and have been open about that with both our moms as well as her sister (the maid of honor), my SIL (also a bridesmaid), and my brother (a groomsman), all of whom are in the same boat.

So, am I the asshole for agreeing to be my cousin's bridesmaid while thinking she's making a big mistake?

What are these acronyms?

[nobodyfamousposts]

This ask might be late since today is October 29, but who do you think would win? Your dolls vs. Slappy from goosebumps

Perfect timing for Halloween though!

It was rather odd for a commission, but Marinette was nothing if not dedicated and honest. If she accepted a job, she would make every effort to see it through to its completion.

She admittedly wasn't expecting the requestee to send her the puppet he wanted her to make clothes for, though.

"It does make sense." She reasoned, pulling the puppet out of the box he was shipped in. "This way I can make sure the clothes fit him."

She looked him over, curious.

"Slappy, huh?" Strange name for a puppet. But she supposed it was probably part of his routine, right? Slapstick humor or whatnot?

She laid the puppet out on her desk and looked him over. Taking a few measurements. Noting what color and fabric would suit him best.

It wasn't until the call for dinner that Marinette realized how much time had passed.

"All right, I'm going down for dinner. Littlebug, Chaton, play nice with Slappy while I'm gone."

With that, Marinette left the room, knowing that everything would be in good hands.

==================================

Slappy couldn't have planned this any better.

Mailing himself to the designer girl was a stroke of genius! He would get new duds AND a new slave to torment.

France was a bit far from his previous "new home", but at least this would be far enough from anyone who would be aware of him or could pass along word about him. Seriously, the advent of super heroes would really be the death of him.

Slappy pushed himself off the desk and began looking around the room in distaste.

Still, he'd known she was a girl but did her room really need this much pink? And what were those names? Littlebug and Chaton?

Sure enough, there were two dolls seated side by side on the trunk. Curious, he approached them.

They looked almost like super heroes, too. One doll had black hair in pigtails while wearing red with black spots. The other had yellow thread for hair and an all black suit with cat ears. Both with pasted smiles and blank stares as they sat in place just like any old dolls.

If he was a sap, he would say they were cute. But then he might as well be called "Sappy" instead of Slappy. And that would certainly be less fun.

Speaking of, he raised one hand and slapped the red doll off the trunk. Might as well get to work. Had to start on the torment sooner or later to let the kid know who was boss.

"Sorry kiddos," he jeered, "but there's not gonna be enough room for all of us."

Maybe he'd stuff one of them in the trunk? Or use scissors, since designer-girl had to have some in her desk somewhere...

He gave the red doll a grin and reached for the cat doll to see what to do to it next.

He wasn't expecting the hand that grabbed him instead.

"What?" He jumped, startled and looked back.

The cat doll was still there.

But he was standing now.

And he wasn't smiling anymore.

"Uh...hello?"

Before he could do anything else, he heard a whip sound before something wrapped around him, tying his legs together. The cat doll took advantage and pushed him, causing him to lose his balance and fall flat on his back on the floor.

Looking up, he saw the black doll staring down at him from the trunk.

And sure enough, the red doll was standing as well. Specifically standing over him and looking down on him, holding...was that a yo-yo?

She pulled, and his bonds tightened. So clearly she had control over what was holding him, and prevented him from moving.

And for what was supposed to be a cute plush toy, she looked...rather angry.

The cat doll hopped down to stand over him as well, not looking happy either.

He simpered.

"Hey, let's talk about this?"

The two glared at him.

==================================

"Littlebug! Chaton! I brought you dessert!" Marinette called as she entered her room.

She had expected the dolls to have been active.

...she had not expected the activity.

She looked around the room in confusion.

"Why is Slappy tied up? And missing his arms?"

Chaton held up one of the puppet's arms and waved to Marinette with it.

"Well that's one. Where's the other?"

Littlebug looked away, refusing to answer.

Ooooooh, Marinette saw what was happening here.

"Did you two get jealous?"

They didn't deny it. Chaton continued to play with the arm while Littlebug just gave the puppet a nasty glare.

Slappy was sorely regretting his life choices.

Note to self: the dolls don't like to share.

[crying-fantasies]

We'll meet again

Masterlist

"Rod"

"..."

"Please move, I'm getting worried"

"...hm"

"Roddy?"

"Yeah yeah" his ventilation system quicks in, his frame finally giving signals of life, you see at his sides, his pedes, it doesn't seem like he is going to move soon so you take your opportunity and come near him, "I'm online, don't- don't worry"

Most bots are way more delicate when getting near the humans in the ship, always looking where they are going or moving before they acclimate to the tiny lifeforms around, now, Rodimus, is an exception, you've seen him be like this more times than not, half of his body on the berth and the rest on the floor, you don't have to ask anymore, everyone has already told you: "Hot Rod has a problem with high grade" while experiencing it first hand.

Does that stop you from going to him and probably be squeezed under his foot? Not really, you like him, and you want to be with him, even when he keeps on brushing you away when he hits rock bottom again.

"Here", you are holding, dragging, a bag big enough to fit on his servo, full of energon in order to help him get rid of the headach you know is present without asking, this has happened more than once and now you're ready, even encouraging him when he refuses with a whiny sound that puts your nerves on edge, "if you want to feel better then purge that from your system by drinking this".

"You've way too much cruelty on such a tiny body" he finally pleasess you, downing the energon in one go, trying to throw away the bag on the nearest trash deposit in the room, failing by meters and making him groan, covering his face plate with his arms and finally moving along so his back strut could be on the berth properly, "what a pain in the-" ah, he fell to recharge again.

It was best than before, at least, you don't have the power to move him around, way too big for something so squishy as you, there is the option to call out for someone else, but that's out of the question, they would immediately call Thunderclash and while you like and respect your captain to pieces Rodimus has this strange disgust towards him, last thing he would want in the middle of his migraine is to hear or see the captain or, worst, have a reprimand from his part so early in the afternoon, you're sure your captain wouldn't exactly reprimand him but give an inspirational speech, one that Rodimus would still hate with all his soul.

Some people say that what Thunderclash did was the right thing to do, you are grateful, humanity is in verge of extinction, the war has nothing to do with it, no matter how many protestants say otherwise, earth is just changing, faster than before, at first you didn't have any idea of why, no one did, but your captain told you what was really happening and why every new human facilities were topnotch, he expected you all to live fully, happily and without lies on his starship.

Sometimes you wonder if, in these kind of cases, you should talk to him about this, you care for Thunderclash and every bot aboard after all, maybe it would be good to give a few comments here and there on how good it would be to have a grief councilor on the ship, since Rodimus has just got news of the deactivation of a close friend, the memorial ceremony didn't go all that great for what you could guess, he was there just a few minutes and still returned like this.

Still, no matter how good of a mech your captain is, you aren't sure or thrusting enough in how he or anyone could react if any got to ask why you cared for Rodimus so much, you aren't sure if they could really see you two in a good light.

"Roddy" you climb to his face plate, he is recharging so deep and the way cybertronians sleep still scares you because they look dead, only difference is that his derma and armor aren't gray and you feel the pulse of his spark after pressing yourself against his neck cables, it's slow but that is a result of his rest and the unholy amount of liquor on his system, "Rodimus", you climb up as you can, this time you give a little kiss on his intake, where his lips are, and you finally get an answer in the form of a groan and the sound of his ventilation system working properly, "wake up, sleeping beauty".

"What time...?", He raises his servo over his sensible optics, then places it just at your side to give you leverage and prevent any fall if he moves wrong.

"Almost noon" you give a stroke over his cheek, he moves along with it and feel your warm touch on him, it takes a moment to really let your information sink and when it does his ventilators short cut, sitting way too fast but stopping a second before throwing you with his actions and fall back on the berth, he is groaning again, letting you slide slowly when he gets up just to lay again with what you can only assume is pain on his brain processor.

"I'm so sorry", now both servos are over his entire face, you take seat on his neck guard, you know he is being honest, "we're supposed to be on duty now"

"It's fine", he knows it is a lie, you've been talking about sector 3408, the so rumoured floating mountains that can be found there and how incredible would be to take samples of the magnetic rocks that could create such natural phenomena, Rodimus was supposed to be your companion since no human could be let alone out of the ship in an strange planet.

But the pod already left in the morning, and you are still with him.

"It's not, not at all" his tone is getting meaner by the second, he looks mad, it's not at you, but himself, "you should have gone without me"

A movement of your head, a negative, "I don't want to go anywhere without you".

Is it really that strange to feel like this? Maybe, if your family knew, well, there's nothing they could do with you in space, no one can say much, maybe some of your human comrades have noticed something new with you, as for Rodimus, some were happy he was starting to take better care of his physical and inner health, it was showing on his now bright red paint job, rougheout dents fixed up, taking portions of his energon while you took your own rations, ingesting less high grade, until two days ago that's it.

"I'm sorry", maybe he referred to the fact he made you lost the pod, the fact that he is drunk again, that now you have to deal with him and all his problems, "it's my fault", you won't let him go down that spiral of self deprecation and abandon he has fallen into once again, you don't want to hear more of this.

He looks broken, as if all the progress both of you've done so far is now gone, you won't have any of that, "Hey", sometimes this isn't easy, hell, even moving him so you can tal eyes to optics is hard if he doesn't follow, being impossible to move a being so big as him, "there will be new and better things to do up here", he will say something again, something mean you bet, so you do the best that you can and move on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on his partially open intake.

Jokes on you, landing your lips on his front dentae and almost falling face first on his glossa when he goes back, still, it's worth it, to see his optics go all round in surprise before he starts to laugh sincerely at your occurrence and own expense, laughing like a chuckle at first and then go full on almost madness by the second that brings blood rushing to your cheeks by the embarrassment.

Still, you really prefer this, Rodimus laughing from the spark, it's worthy.

"What was that?!"

"My last attempt to be romantic for the day"

"Nooooo~ give me more", his servos raise you once again, just above the start of his helm, what you could call the forehead, "make the pain go away, babe"

"Quit it, you big baby"

Far from stopping his whining he now looks at you with his lips between his dentae, "I love it when you call me that".

Maybe it was fine, spend the rest of the shift here, others won't notice your absence (there isn't really anything else to do), and you can stay with him, protected by the four walls of his habsuit, you only need to get him more energon supplies and giving his tired stabilizers Rodimus still can't get up, "We should get a mattress", is what you say while landing on the hard surface of the berth.

"We can get one in the next stopping point", he doesn't let you go, no so easy, one of his digits is inside the neck of your work uniform and he is tugging at it, "don't leave me alone for too long", it could've been clingy in any other circumstances, but he really needs encouraging words now, his sad and almost offline optics tell you about his vulnerability, his fallen wings of tiredness and his digit clinging to you shout out of his necessity of having you near.

What has happened to such a great bot to be like this? It's not a good question, because he isn't perfect, you also aren't, everyone is broken to some degree, Rodimus has still so much to tell you about him and you have so much to tell about yourself.

"I'll not" you take his digit between your hands, giving it a kiss to give more power to your promise, "I'm not leaving you forever, so wait for the fifteen minutes I'm away".

"You promise?", Just how drunk is he?

"I swear, I'll come back to you"

It's cheesey, it's embarrassing, but those words do get out of your mouth and are apparently all it takes to make a big and childish smile appear on his handsome faceplate, but you mean it, you mean every word and can only wish he heard them right and gets to remember them because you'll need to be drunk to say those words again or accept the way he is looking at you now without feeling strange inside because being so wanted isn't something you are familiar with.

"Me too, I'll always find you"

.

This is a way of ending the story of Rodimus (of course I'll still post the extras), while it's sad how in the main timeline he gets hit hard by his own reality he gets to meet the very same human that in the other reality is his conjunx endurae (the terraformers reality), and maybe in this timeline they'll get to have their happy life for as long as it can last, maybe they could get to meet their own Sunset.

Thanks for this great year, expect for more little pieces while I'm still on my transformers strike, every comment and reblog is appreciated, have a great new year.

[givehimthemedicine]

lumax as a premature relationship

first: I don't mean any of this like "the show shouldn't have done it". what I mean is that with lumax, ST is telling the story of a relationship whose flaw (if it can be summarized into just one) is that it happened too soon.

probably out of comparison to milkvan, and the delay of canon byler, lumax gets lauded as the wholesome ship based on true friendship that slowly blossomed into romance. but that's not accurate. Lucas is a good friend to Max, but Max isn't to Lucas, and it certainly wasn't slow.

even platonic lumax should've been a slow simmer but was a speed run

the newly-introduced Max has high walls, which suggests anyone who wants to get close to her will have to take a slow approach. but then before you know it, Lucas is just kinda. in there.

yes, it takes him most of the season to earn Max's trust, which sounds long, but isn't. the first time Lucas and Max ever spoke was Halloween, Wednesday. the arcade I think is Saturday, and the junkyard is the day after that? so she broaches the darkest subject in her life... 4 days after meeting him. with like. zero prompting. "that fog looks cool! btw my parents are divorced and..."

Max's walls are only so high because of how badly she wants to let someone in, so it's understandable that the right person could get in relatively fast. I have no problem with that trope. sucker, in fact. but opening up here was CRAZY for someone with huge trust issues:

you have to be careful who you confide in about abuse because if your confidant mishandles it so that your abuser finds out you told, things could get MUCH worse. she simply doesn't know Lucas well enough to know he won't accidentally put her in more danger (which actually he already did: by following her out of the arcade after she said not to, and again by showing up at her house).

this talk was moments before Max saw a demodog, meaning she's gone along with the supernatural story without any evidence. I'm not criticizing that; she's a kid who likes fantasy, wants friends really bad, and isn't above playing make-believe in order to be included. what bothers me is she confided in Lucas about her abuse BEFORE seeing a shred of proof this entire outing wasn't the elaborate prank she feared it was. in the infinitely more realistic scenario that these boys are just messing with her, and will ditch her after they've had their laugh, this could so easily have led to a much darker situation at home.

the timing of that conversation was so objectively, stupidly unsafe that I'd call it bad writing if it was an isolated incident. but, self-preservation instincts so terrible they can sometimes be better explained as elf-sabotage - that's just classic Max.

romantic lumax seemed kind of forced because as a new kid in town, all Max wanted was friendship

the snow ball is about a month after everything else. Max and Lucas don't seem to be a couple yet. it doesn't even look like they're dates. so to kiss him suddenly felt like another jump way ahead. he sure looked surprised.

I guess a month is a while when you're 13, but the romantic aspect felt rushed to me because the whole season is full of indications that Max only wanted friendship. and that's made super clear by her constant focus on group friendship. her dialogue throughout 2 is consistently group-oriented.

her behavior is too: as of Halloween, Max has Lucas and Dustin in her pocket. if she's crushing on Lucas, or enjoys attention from boys in general, why on earth would she go out on such a limb seeking Mike's acceptance after she already has what she wants?

because that's not what she wants most. she wants to belong to the whole group, like she keeps saying. (I'm going to ramble much more about this theme in another post soon)

Max continues to prioritize friendship / group activities even after lumax becomes a thing

a few examples:

lumax's idea of "romantic time" can include their friends, in contrast to milkvan prioritizing alone time.

Max (and Lucas) drop 1 on 1 time (washing out his eyes is a scene that's an easy kiss opportunity for your standard tv teen couple) in favor of a long trek in the sun to build a radio tower so Dustin can talk to a girl she doesn't believe exists. Max and Lucas do skip off together, but again in contrast to El and Mike who leave early to make out, they only leave because it's time to go home.

^that's the same Max who tagged along and earnestly participated in armoring up a junked schoolbus to fight monsters without any proof.

despite downsizing for trailer living, she kept the Michael Myers mask in memory of the first night she felt like a part of the party.

unlike others who yell for their loved one from the UD, Max calls out for Lucas and Dustin.

her life-saving montage includes many platonic as well as romantic moments.

alright killjoy, if Max only wanted friendship, how's it make sense that SHE initiated all the romantic stuff?

ST is not a universe where grabbing someone's hand in a tense moment is necessarily an indicator of romance. Dustin said he could feel "the electricity" when Lucas and Max held hands on the bus, but then, Dustin also ships stobin.

the kiss, I could actually come closest to calling a writing misstep because.. it wasn't written. it feels forced because it was, as a last-minute unscripted thing - not because the Duffers decided it fit Max's characterization, but purely because they thought it was funny how uncomfortable Sadie was with filming her first kiss. <- this interview is actually so gross.

but, that kiss is canon regardless of how I feel about bts lore, and it fits and it works in the sense that this is the story of a flawed relationship. Max initiated it despite not being ready for it, simply because she thought she was.

Max's childhood fears about bad relationships have made her overeager to prove a good relationship can exist. so the first time a boy is actually kind to her, she's like OH SEE LOVE IS REAL I DONT HAVE TO GROW UP TO BE MY MOM LET'S GOOOO and hurls herself into something she's not mature enough to realize she's too immature to execute well.

if that kiss was so misguided, how's it still Max's happiest memory?

there's no conflict there.

she grew up around terrible relationships and probably feared she was destined for the same, so to find a nice boy like Lucas must have given her such incredible relief and hope. in her young mind, that dance was her happily ever after. you never forget how good a moment like that felt, regardless of how well reality lived up to it.

that said. can I point out that reality hasn't lived up to it?

Max choosing the moment lumax began, as opposed to any moment from the year-and-change of its actual contents... might be less good the more you think about it. like. she doesn't describe this as her favorite memory. she says it's the time she was happiest. in other words, she hasn't been as happy before or since.

that kiss marked lumax's moment of greatest potential, which I think is what made Max so happy. not the relationship she's actually gotten so far.

mmkay and then what do I do about the fact Max STILL wants to date Lucas?

once again, Max is the one who makes things overtly romantic by doodling a picture of them holding hands. but as you may know from my recent lumax diatribe, I don't see how the ship is seaworthy at present.

so the top layer of my interpretation is that Max is still operating under the same ideas that caused her to kiss Lucas in the first place. she's not thinking about how it'll work; she just wants. this is fast-forward Max again. it's a similar moment of hope to the snow ball kiss. romance with Lucas once again looks like her lifeline out of an awful situation.

the layer underneath that is less fluffy:

Max might've accepted this invite in as much an "I might die tonight so it won't hurt to make some lighthearted plans for the future, he did just save my life so why hurt his feelings for no reason" way as anything else. I don't mean her affection is fake. she just might consider the movie date a pipe dream.

consider that her attic monologue happens only a couple minutes after the doodle, and shows that her suicidal ideations are barely behind her. like, the wanting-to-die part is just bait at this point I think, but the deserving-to-die sentiment still feels fresh and sincere.

consider that Max so recently scolded Lucas for assuring her things would work out because that's "never true" in her life... and now here she is drawing a doodle of things working out.

sure, this could be a girl who's thinking "yes!!! ✅ Attending Event! I genuinely expect to be alive, deserving of love, and in the mood for romance this Friday!" but to me, it honestly seems more like a girl thinking "God, I wish."

btw the doodle would've been perfect as the advent of romantic lumax, imo

if lumax had grown slowly out of a healthy mutual friendship, Max really could be ready right here.

imagine: s2, Max earns her place in the party, but to grow especially close friends with Lucas takes a year; the bus talk happens in s3. we can tell their friendship is starting to want to become more. depression interferes in s4. but their bond helps pierce the fog, and they protect each other from Vecna/Jason.

you hit me with the movie doodle after THAT buildup? adorable, precious, showstopping. at that point, that date could've been their happily ever after. <- this is what people think it is already!

lumax is one of many flawed relationships (and that's okay)

another sign that lumax is supposed to be flawed is its place in the larger pattern of flawed relationships: parallels with other characters and ships.

Max and El in particular share a similar stumble into their relationships: both bond with the first boy to treat them with kindness, and throw themselves into a relationship that actually costs them the friendship they should've had with that boy.

and all the party relationships illustrate different friendship/romance progressions:

lumax is the story of a romance that should've been a friendship first/also and isn't going to succeed til it gets this right

byler will be the story of a romance that was a friendship first and will succeed by remaining one also (or so the themes and patterns suggest)

mileven is the story of a romance that should've been a friendship instead.

literally all of ST's relationships, including the endgame romances, have flaws that are intentional and meant to be explored. in fact that's like... most of what the show is. and most fans can readily admit that about all of them, until they get to lumax, which they think is uniquely meant to be perfect and is flawed only in its writing. this view strips lumax from its broader context and ignores many lessons it's there to teach us about ST's overarching themes.

understand: my aim in pointing out lumax's flaws is not to persuade anyone to enjoy it less or stop shipping it!

flaws don't mean you aren't allowed to like a thing. if anything, it makes them way more interesting to discuss, and more compelling to root for/against. we don't have to pretend our characters are perfect in order to enjoy, ship, and learn from them.

more on all this coming soon in another post exploring different types of love in the Max plot!

[acourtofthought]

Elriels want their ship to have a forbidden romance in the next books, but given how the bonus chapter ended, I'm not sure how that would work. I mean, how would that conversation go between Az and Elain?

Azriel: I want to finish what we started on Solstice.

Elain: Why should we finish what we started? You already said that it was a mistake.

Azriel: No, I only said that because Rhys got in my head right before we were about to kiss.

Elain: So, Rhys made you say it was a mistake?

Azriel: No, I actually said that on my own, but when Rhys told me to stay away from you, I told him he couldn't tell me what to do.

Elain: So, you called us a mistake of your own free will, but you still want to be with me?

Azriel: Yes.

Elain: Even though your high lord has spoken out against it?

Azriel: Yes.

Elain: How would that even work?

Azriel: Easy. We just have to keep it secret.

Elain: Secret? From our closest friends and family?

Azriel: Yes. It may be difficult, but think of how hot it'll be. Secret meet-ups late at night, stolen moments in the shadows.

Elain: And what happens if Rhys or someone else finds out?

Azriel: We'll be alright. Rhys might be worried about a blood duel, but I'm not.

Elain: Blood duel?

Azriel: Yeah, it's an Autumn Court tradition where two males can fight to the death over a female. Lucien has the right to demand it of me if he finds out I've been with you, but don't worry. I'd defeat him with little effort.

Elain:... You want to kill Lucien? You want to kill my mate?

Azriel: Why not? You have no interest in him, and I don't think he'll ever be good enough for any way.

Elain:...

Now, I'm not saying that exact conversation would happen, but given that not everyone is aware of the BC and sjm would have to reintroduce parts of it into the next book, I'm sure we'll get something about the almost kiss, "this was a mistake" and the blood duel. But, do Elriels really expect a secret relationship from all this? And even if that does happen, what if the necklace comes up again?

Elain: Az, I know we can't tell anyone about us, so I've decided I'd like the necklace back. I think it’d be romantic to wear it every day, a little token of us that I don't have to hide.

Azriel: Ok. I'll head down to the library and tell Clotho I need it back.

Elain: Clotho? Why would she have it?

Azriel: After you gave it back, I decided that returning it to the store wouldn't be right. So, I ended up giving it to Clotho to give to Gwyn.

Elain: Gwyn? Nesta's friend? You gave it to her?

Azriel: Yeah, but she doesn't know it's from me. Clotho just told her it came from a friend. I'll go down and tell Clotho that Gwyn needs to give it back now.

Elain:...

Again, this exact conversation probably won't happen, but if Elriel does happen, I'm sure the necklace is going to come up again at some point, and people just think Elain is going to get all this new information and just be fine with it?

I was so entertained reading that, I need more 😂

I agree with you though, there is no way for Az to tell Elain that Rhys told him to stay away from him without shooting himself in the foot a thousand times over. Without her being extremely put off by his words and actions.

We also need to add:

Elain: "Why didn't Rhys understand when you explained that you had these feelings for me?"

Az: "I didn't actually say I had feelings for you. I said we should be mates because your sisters are with my brothers. He also asked if I was over Mor but I refused to answer then he told me to use a pleasure hall if I was just looking for sex. I didn't say anything then either."

Elain: "So THIS is why the Mother gave me Lucien as a mate."

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Grey 46

First / Previous / Next

"-is open!"

Before Stormy could finish warning Northern, the ship linked to somewhere else in space. Detecting hard vacuum, the open airlock slammed shut.

"Where's Fen??"

"She's not aboard Northern. She must have jumped out right as we linked away."

"We have to link back!"

"No Northern. There's no way we can link back that accurately. Best case we'd appear outside the ship and be ripped to shreds by their point defense."

Zhe looked up. "What's the worst case?"

"We'd link back half in the ship and half in space.

They were silent a moment, imaging that. Back in the early days of wormhole technology, people experimented with how precisely they could link. It turns out that calculating an exact point in space in a constantly moving universe is difficult. The further you link, the harder it is. There is a realistic limit of a few kilo-lights just because the variation on where you'd wind up is so great you might end up in the next star system over. Or worse, inside a gas giant.

"Okay, so no linking back. What do we do about Fen?"

"I'm afraid we're going to have to leave her there for now Zhe. There's no way we can rescue her right now. I think we should stick to the plan and find Gord and let him know what we learned."

Crossing her arms, Northern sat into the command chair - Fen's chair - hard. "I don't like it, but I agree with Stormy. There's nothing we can do right now."

She looked over at Zhe. "Don't worry. We'll get her back. I promise."

Zhe turned to face Northern. Her large, expressive ears and wide eyes meant for collecting low light in the forests of their homeland stared at her. Her cat-like ears flicked, and she nodded - a human gesture. "I trust you, Northern. We'll do it your way for now." She turned back to her station and then after a moment, back to Northern. "How are we going to find Gord?"

At that, Northern smiled, "I have a hunch I know where he is. Stormy are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I am, Northern, but what about bringing the BI?"

"It'll be fine. It's not like she'll be able to lead anyone back." Northern waved her hand dismissively. "She won't even be the first BI there."

"BI?" Zhe's eyebrows raised questioningly.

"Biological Intelligence. You call us AIs, we call you BIs." Stormy answered. "It's not an insult... most of the time."

"Okay, but where are we going and why would I not be allowed?"

"It's..." Stormy paused, searching for the words. "It's a place that is supposed to be just for us. Somewhere we can exist outside of the empire's influence, outside of their attacks."

"Oh." Zhe's brow furrowed for a moment. "Would it be better if you dropped me off on the Heap?"

"You don't want to come?" Northern's eyebrows raised.

"No, I do, but I also don't want to cause more problems. You could drop me off, and send a beacon when you have things figured out. I'm sure Dad has some work for me. Now that I've run with a crew he'll probably let me sign on for more jobs."

Northern shook her head. "Nonsense! You can come along with us Zhe. It will be fine."

"But what about-" Stormy interjected.

"It will be fine."

"If you say so." Stormy didn't sound so sure.

****

Stormy Days linked back into space deep dark of interstellar space. Zhe got on the scanners and searched. "Where are we Stormy, there isn't anything here?"

"Look harder, Zhe. Search for something running slightly higher than ambient, about a million klicks out."

"I still don't see... hold on!" Zhe fiddles with her console. "I see a large structure, way bigger than any Starjumper, nearly the size of an orbital, or a... colony ship?"

"That's what we're looking for, I'll set a course."

"What is it?" Zhe looks up from the console at the large screen. At this distance, even with high magnification it just looks like a mass of darkness among the stars.

Northern chuckles. "Originally? It was the human colony ship Mt. Baxter. Sometime in their flight, they passed through a gamma ray burst and everyone died. A group of AIs found the ship coasting through space and slowed it down. Now, it's... a safe place for us. If we can say anywhere truly is 'home' for us, this place is Home."

Zhe watched as they flew in. As they flew closer and closer, points of activity would flare, scan them, and then go dark again. A few times, she noticed that as they went dark the points would start moving. Point defense that always changed positions. The people that lived here did not want uninvited visitors.

The second thing she noticed was the size. She had never seen... anything in space this large short of the largest orbitals, like the ones the Humans had in Sol. High Mars Hyacinth was larger, but only just. This structure was easily thirty kilometers long and ten in diameter. It was also rotating slowly.

Other than the intense security, getting in was simple. Stormy apparently knew what to say when and to whom, and all the defenses stood down, and when they reached the massive structure, a door on the side - large enough to swallow a Starjumper - opened, and they slid inside.

The hangar for the former colony ship was equally massive. Zhe estimated it was fully a quarter of the ship. Docked along the edge were ships of all shapes and sizes. Most people know about the Starjumpers - the ancient human ships meant to soar between stars before wormhole generators were built - and the dreadnoughts - the massive warships built on a Starjumper chassis but bristling with weapons. Zhe couldn't believe the variety of ships here. All kinds of shapes and colors and designs! All were docked here in neat rows.

Stormy led them to an open space near the middle of the dock and gently guided them in. As they got close, she swung the ship around on the maneuvering jets to orient with the 'floor' of the massive structure and they set down with a light bump. Among the clanks and thumps of docking and the whirring of unknown things, Stormy walked out into the Command Deck. "Come on, Gord said he's going to meet us."

At the end of the airlock, a small runabout waited for them. They climbed in and puttered towards the entry to the structure proper. Sure enough, Gord was standing, waiting for them, his brow furrowed and his arms crossed.

"Stormy gave me the broad strokes. Helen took Fen?" Gord looked over them. "Oh, hello Zhe. Welcome Home."

"Uh, thanks Gord. Don't worry, I'll keep your secret."

"I never worried about it." Gord's eyebrow raised just a tiny bit. "Come on, let's get out of this hall."

He led them into a large open space, filled with open areas, plenty of seating, plants, and other pieces of nature. Zhe could have sworn she heard running water.

Striding quickly, he led them further and further into the structure. Zhe didn't know much about human architecture, but all of this felt old. There was something about the halls, the lighting, the furniture that made the place seem ancient. It might have been the fact that there were hardly any people. As they walked Zhe looked around and maybe saw fifty people total. In a place as large as this, she imagined you could go days without seeing anyone if you wanted.

Gord approached a large, heavy looking door. Nearly an airlock, but they were deep inside the structure. He stood in front of a panel, obstructing the view, and after a second, it slid open. "In here please." He gestured. Northern, Stormy, and Zhe walked in, but instantly the door slammed shut on them.

Lights flicked on in the room, and there was a large table, comfortable looking chairs and a pitcher of water. Along one wall was a series of paintings, they looked like Earth to Zhe, at least what she knew of it from videos and images. The other side was a large, thick window. Gord stood on the other side of it, glowering.

"I apologize for this, but you three are most likely contaminated from your contact with Fen and Helen. We're already cleansing Fen's frigate and if I can't get complete assurances that every single nanoparticle is gone, I will not hesitate to dump it and destroy it."

Stormy sighed and fell into one of the chairs. She spun another around and put her legs on it, crossing them. Northern sat at the other end and tilted the seat all the way back, looking at the ceiling. Zhe remained in front of the window. "How long will we have to stay here, Gord?"

"As long as it takes, Zhe. We're not well equipped to meet the needs of BIs here, but we're busily printing facilities for you, and we'll be able to print up some compatible food. It won't be cuisine, but it'll keep you alive."

"But what about Fen? She was captured!"

"According to Stormy, she opened the airlock herself and jumped out right as you were escaping Helen's dreadnought." He turned his back on Zhe. "She hardly was captured."

"Gord, you don't meant that! You know that she had the Nanites, they must have made her do it!" Zhe sniffed and her large eyes welled. "She wouldn't do that on her own! You're not going to go get her?"

Gord took one large step towards the window and loomed over Zhe. His anger clear in the tinny speakers overhead. "And how, Zhe, would you like me to do that? Do you know how many AIs are here?"

Zhe shrank back from Gord as he glared. "Uh, I counted around fifty people?"

Gord sighed and - seemingly realizing what he was doing - took a step back. "There are sixty eight of us. More than there's been in centuries, but still, not an invasion force."

"But, all those ships-"

Gord strode back up to the window and shouted,"Are empty Zhe! They haven't moved in centuries. Bare husks, waiting for their AIs who will never come." He started pacing. "The Empire murdered us, Zhe. I was carrying around a duffle that carried the memory cores of every AI I could find. The fact that you and Fen managed to find two more than I had no idea were even alive is frankly amazing."

"So all these people are..."

"Are new bodies I had printed for them with Spyglass' help. They're all old friends, and they are traumatized, Zhe." Gord continued pacing. "I said we were going after the Nanites, but we just don't have anything to send after them. What can we do?"

"You have Meredith and her retinue! You have the Empress of Sol."

"Hah. Empress of nothing. We've already heard the news, Helen has declared herself Empress Regent. She's wasting no time at all consolidating her power. Meredith and her friends are just six humans among trillions. Meredith has a hard enough time staying sober." He shakes his head sadly. "I had no idea her ship was so well stocked."

Zhe sat down heavily. "So that's it then. You're going to hide."

Gord nodded. "Yup. Seems to be the most prudent course of action. I may have talked a big game before, but I was caught up in the moment." He chuckled a bit. "I think it's Fen. Something about her causes people to think that the impossible might just be possible. Now that she's captured though, who knows. Helen will probably declare her 'Empress' and rule from the shadows. The Nanites will get what they want, and we'll wait it out. I'm old Zhe. It's not the first time I had to lay low for a few centuries."

Northern lifted her head and looked at Gord. "Actually, we learned more about the Nanites from Fen before she... left. They consume energy and come from a universe without a lot. They entered ours as a way to look for other universes."

Gord turns his head slowly and regards Northern. She's sitting at the table, leaning back, her face long and her hair rumpled. Even though most AIs don't really have to sleep, it can have a restorative effect and some do. Northern looks like she hasn't slept in weeks. "They do what?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

"They consume energy. Fen said most of their civilization is around a white hole in their universe. She said they weren't planning on consuming this universe, just using it to look for another."

"And you believed them? Northern why would they spend all this effort building empires and making people make Gates if they were just going to look for another Universe? Why do they need our Universe at all except as a source of power. Fuck." Gord swore.

While they were speaking, a person came up to Gord. She was tall, with long silvery hair. She looked familiar to Zhe, she might have been with Gord before. She couldn't remember her name though. They couldn't hear what was said - Gord turned off the mic - but she saw his face contort and he was clearly angry. He said something sharply to her. She nodded once, sharply, turned on her heel and walked out.

"Fen's ship is contaminated. The Nanite concentration is too high to easily contain, so we're going to purge. I'm sorry folks, but the ship it too dangerous to leave. You can't get your stuff from it either. We'll print you some clothes and a new pad and things." Gord glanced down to his own pad as he was talking. "Ah, and it seems you are contaminated as well Zhe."

"Me??" Zhe's ears were high and taut, facing forward, her tail poofed out involuntarily.

"Yes, you have a high concentration of Nanites. I'm surprised you haven't been feeling the effects of them." Gord looks up at her and narrows her eyes. "You haven't been feeling the effects of Nanites, have you, Zhe?"

"I wouldn't even know what it would feel like. I never even knew they existed until recently."

"Hmm." Gord's fingers danced over his pad and he concentrated intensely on it for a moment. "Okay. Look. If you were anyone else, we'd just kill you, and be done with it. But you're friends with Fen-" Gord gestured "-and Northern and Stormy. They're contaminated too, but we can just offload them and get them new bodies. They're already uploaded. We can't do that to you." Gord shuddered slightly. "Never again. Anyway, we're going to try something."

Before Zhe could say anything there was heavy clunk, and vents popped open in the ceiling. Heavy black smoke poured into the room, pooling onto the floor. When the smoke touched Zhe, it felt almost thick, like water, but was still some kind of smoke or vapor.

As soon as the smoke touched Zhe, she lost control over her limbs, she lept onto the table and crouched down low, snarling at Gord. "You think you can defeat us? We have had millions of years. You're barely three thousand yeas old. You have no chance."

'Zhe' looked back at Stormy and Northern and sure enough, they looked lifeless. She peered closer and she saw that both were in their same positions as before leaning back head on the back of the chair.... with ten fine wires leading from the chair to the back of their heads.

"They're long gone. Don't worry about them. We'll have new bodies printed up in a day or two." Gord looked again at his pad and adjusted something. "I swear, keeping you alive through this is going to be a hassle. I hope I can see Fen again just do I can gloat to her about this."

'Zhe' felt the room grow heavier. Gord had adjusted the gravity. She was pulled onto the table and as she struggled the smoke rose higher and higher until it touched the rest of her. As she screamed, it poured into her mouth.

[the-obnoxious-sibling]

i know the easiest way to resolve my two wolves dilemma about the near miss notfic is for buggy to be the one in disguise, okay? i know. i just haven’t been able to figure out why he’s in disg—okay, no, i’ve got it now.

(another self-indulgent “shanks/buggy post-roguetown, pre-luffy” encounter below the cut)

buggy, lately called “the clown,” is not usually a pirate given to subtlety or discretion. he wants word of his wicked deeds to spread far and wide! if people are afraid of him, they’ll give in faster, so he won’t have to work as hard to get what he wants!

but usually, there aren’t rumors of monkey d. garp in the area.

buggy’ll thumb his nose at most any marine, but garp is an exception. that guy has a monstrous strength on his old captain’s level, plus he’s equally famous for his incorruptibility and his bullheadedness. all in all somebody buggy absolutely does not want to deal with.

and sure, his bounty as it is probably doesn’t warrant a vice-admiral’s involvement, but garp’s been around a long time. he might recognize buggy as “one of roger’s brats.” and while they never had bounties of their own back then, surely the marine still want their heads. they went after tom, for fuck’s sake, there’s no way buggy is safe.

so until he hears from a reliable source that garp has left this particular corner of east blue behind, buggy is not leaving the sanctuary of his ship without a thorough disguise.

he’s gone without his distinctive makeup, of course. his hair he’s tied up and tucked away under an old knit cap, which he’s sewn an ink-black wig to the lining of to better conceal his identity. he even rubbed a bit of ink into his eyebrows to be doubly sure. and, last but hardly least, he’s chop-chopped his nose off, sticking an ordinary-looking prosthetic in its place with spirit gum that will be very annoying to remove later—but better a little adhesive rash than prison.

looking in his mirror at a stranger, buggy sighs, clapping his hands together. “right!” his ship needs a resupply, and buggy sailed his favorite little skiff here to take care of it so he doesn’t have to explain this disguise to his crew. “rope, sailcloth, gunpowder, food,” he mutters as he heads out. just a few essentials for any sailing vessel, nothing obviously piratical about it. a perfectly safe supply run.

a squad of marines go thumping past, and buggy can’t hold back a flinch at the sight.

he breaths in deep. this will be fine. all he has to do is not draw attention to himself, and…

“hey, you!”

buggy freezes, and fights the urge to turn around. freezing is bad enough, that would make him look super guilty. and anyway, with a call like that how could anyone possibly know who the marines are after?

“you in the hat!”

ah, fuck. buggy can’t lose the hat, that’s half his disguise gone right there. he glances back, curses under his breath when it sure looks like that squad of marines is coming for him, and makes a break for it.

“this is navy business!”

“stop!”

“like hell,” buggy mutters, rounding a corner into an alleyway. he blinks when he hears his own words doubled, and realizes there’s been someone else running from the marines the whole time. ah, shit, was he even their target after all? has he been running for his life for no reason? he turns to give the guy what for and just about chokes on his tongue, because—

well, because it’s shanks.

same stupid, distinctive hair, same stupid, distinctive hat. a cape, which is more style than buggy would have expected shanks to develop, but which is also stupid and distinctive. a pretty nasty scar over one eye. buggy takes his first reaction to that—i wouldn’t have let that happen!—and violently shoves it down into the bottom of his soul, where stupid thoughts go to die. what-ifs don’t matter, what matters is this entire guy is stupid and distinctive.

shanks gives him one of those soft-hearted, empathetic looks buggy always hated. “ah, sorry, i think i got you tangled up in my business.”

…he doesn’t recognize buggy.

good! this is good, this is—salvageable, anyway! buggy clears his throat, tries to throw his voice a little higher, speak a little more politely. anything to avoid that soft look becoming one of recognition, or that awful heartbroken look from all those years ago. “that’s okay! anything to inconvenience the marines.”

as the rhythmic sound of boots thumping gets closer, an idea occurs to buggy. “speaking of…” he grabs hold of shanks’ cape, pausing only when shanks puts a hand on his wrist and gives him a wary look. right, shanks doesn’t know him from adam like this. “sometimes it’s better to fight smarter, not harder.”

shanks considers him for a moment. he lets go of buggy’s wrist.

permission granted, buggy moves quickly. goodbye, stupid hat! flip the cape around, the lining’s a different color so that will do nicely. adjust the closure so the fabric that’s supposed to be the top hem instead functions as a hood, all the better to hide that hair and scar… sure, it probably won’t hold up to a close inspection, but who needs it to? low-level marines are idiots.

buggy leans back against the alley wall and spreads his legs wide to make himself shorter and easier to hide. when shanks doesn’t seem to get the memo, buggy rolls his eyes and tugs him closer, until shanks is standing almost too close for propriety, his cape hiding both of them from view.

hands pressed to the wall above buggy’s shoulders, shanks stares at him intently, an eyebrow going up as they hear the marines run past without giving their hiding spot so much as a first glance, let alone a second. “impressive,” he says.

buggy snorts. “naturally.”

something about this response amuses shanks, who smiles, drops one hand on buggy’s shoulder, and squeezes. “thanks for the save, gorgeous.”

buggy’s mind goes blank.

well, mostly. “gorgeous?!”

shanks frowns, though his eyes are still smiling. “don’t tell me nobody’s ever called you ‘gorgeous’ before.” buggy doesn’t react—has no idea what shanks is doing—as that hand slides up his shoulder, his neck, to cup his cheek. shanks leans just that little bit closer, taking the lack of space between them from the appearance of improper to actually improper. buggy still has no idea what shanks is doing until his thumb starts to rub small circles near the corner of buggy’s eye. “that’s just not possible. i mean, your eyes alone are stunning…”

he knows that move. shanks told him about that move, about the barmaid who’d used it on him the first time, using a compliment about shanks’ eyes as an excuse to touch his face, right before she—

it’s a very sweet kiss. probably the kind of kiss buggy would have expected of shanks, if he’d ever let himself think of things like “shanks” and “kissing” at the same time before. (face hot, it occurs to him that maybe the way he’d always violently shut down such thoughts might mean something. he violently shuts down this line of thinking.) shanks pulls back after a brief moment, a curious look in his eye that buggy takes to mean ‘more?’

whatever look happens to be on buggy’s face must say ‘no’ for him—though probably not in as insistent a tone as he’d like, his mind is still pretty fuzzy—because shanks steps back, casually giving buggy space. like of course after… that… all he wants is to fix his cape and retrieve his hat.

“wh…?” is all buggy can manage.

an eyebrow goes up, and shanks smiles a little smugly as he slides that stupid hat back into place. “like i said. thanks for the save.” and with that, he’s gone.

buggy’s knees give out.

he spends ten minutes sitting in that alleyway, definitely not remembering anything that just happened in particular detail, or wishing he’d answered an unspoken question in a different way. eventually he remembers that he has duties to attend to, and he’d better attend to them soon if he want to get off this island today.

which he does.

he certainly doesn’t have any reason to want to stick around here.

no sir.

“rope, sailcloth… limes?” suddenly buggy can’t remember the last thing on his list. well, it can’t be that important if it was the last one, right? right. surely they can go without… whatever… until after garp’s gotten tired of this part of east blue.

because buggy is never going out in disguise ever again.