#worried about its crew member's life or something

[girlsworldillusion]

Ocean's Tear

Aemond x Siren!Reader

Summary: At first it was just curiosity. There was something about the human that, for the first time in longer than you could remember, piqued your interest.

Captain Targaryen, they called him.

It seemed like just a silly curiosity. But you quickly realize that your little curiosity turns into something much worse.

Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive:

Taking an interest in a human.

Rated: M +18

Warnings: interspecies relationships, mentions of blood and death, dark themes.

Word account: 9k

Author's note: This story was divided into two parts. I'll be posting the final act soon, if it gets a good reception. Happy reading!

At first it was just curiosity. 

There was something about the human that, for the first time in longer than you could remember, piqued your interest. 

That something could be many things, of course, and at first you thought it was just his unusual hair color, a singularity that made him stand out from the rest like a sore thumb. 

Despite having seen many different humans throughout your life, you didn't remember ever seeing one with hair like his. As far as you knew, only aged humans had hair that color. But the man you began to observe closely didn't seem aged. Quite the opposite. His tall, strong physique indicated that he was a very healthy adult man of, if your knowledge of the human race was anything to go by, thirty years old at most. And yet, the strands of his hair were as light as the pure white moon that shone above the ocean. 

But there was another singularity about the man. He always wore a damn leather eye patch on the left side of his face. When you first saw this, you laughed in derision at how stereotypical the human was being. What? A ship captain wearing an eyepatch? So predictable. All that was missing was a hook in his hand and a wooden leg to complete the standard pirate look. 

It should have been ridiculous, at the very least. Except it wasn't. 

It was actually embarrassing how fascinating you found the dark contrast of the leather with the silver strands that were always coming loose from his ponytail. 

Honestly, it was worrying how quickly you were becoming interested in this strange human. 

But, the days passed and, regardless of how peculiar those details about him were, that wasn't the only thing that made you pay so much attention to the man. 

The way he behaved was also different from the others. Unlike the loud and obnoxious humans you were used to encountering while sailing these seas, this man walked the deck with his head held high and an indifferent expression, a cigarette lazily held between his fingers, telling each of the crew members what to do in a firm and authoritative manner, although he never had to raise his voice at any time. 

Captain Targaryen, they called him. He was always calm, always in control, silent most of the time - as if he were directly responsible for inspiring and maintaining order around him. It was immediately clear to you why he was the captain of this ship. Just as it was also clear that this human was more fortunate than others you had seen. Not only did his posture and manner reveal his high-class upbringing, but also his ship which, despite keeping its simple dark tones and overall understated appearance, was much larger and much better preserved than those that normally visited this area of ​​the ocean.

You didn't know who this man was, but he certainly wasn't just anyone. 

Despite all this, he was still a human, and even though he had caught your attention for reasons that not even you could fully understand, you knew from the beginning that you shouldn't entertain such curiosity. Humans were cunning and treacherous little things, regardless of their appearance. And even if such a notion was irrelevant (it wasn't), he wouldn't last long anyway. Not here. If you had noticed the ship's approach and, especially, the presence of the various crew members inside it, your sisters had too. It was only a matter of time now. The days of not only this man, but everyone under his command, were numbered. 

You shouldn't entertain your curiosity. 

But, despite all your rules, tact, and minimal capacity for good judgment, you found yourself getting closer and closer to the human's vessel. 

Surprisingly, there was still some sense left in you, and you chose to do this always at night, when it would be easier to keep yourself hidden from unwanted eyes. 

That was the reason, of course. Not the fact that it was at night that the man came out on deck to take a breather, when his crew was already asleep. Every night, without exception, punctual as clockwork. 

Fuck. You are such an idiot. 

A pair of large eyes peer through the gentle rippling of the water. Submerged up to your nose, you keep cautiously away (though closer than you were last night, and the night before, and the night before that... - tsk, idiot, idiot). The length of your long tail sways below the surface, deceptively delicate fins rippling in anticipation, tense and restless. 

He lights a cigarette. 

Your sensitive nose wrinkles in response to the disgusting and very human habit, but you barely blink as you watch him raise the thing to his lips. He holds it there until the tip burns an abrasive shade of red, staring at the dark, endless horizon ahead, the ship beneath his feet rocking rhythmically with the waves lapping at its sides. He pulls his fingers away after a few seconds to breathe in a cloud of smoke, and you swear you can taste the toxic flavor of tobacco even from where you stand. The thought doesn’t bother you as much as it should. The chilly night wind blows a few loose strands in front of his face, the rest of his silver hair tied back in a messy bun. 

His posture during the day is always the same; confident and calm. He’s the picture of composure most of the time. But here, at night, smoking his disgusting cigarette in deep, silent contemplation, he almost always looks...sad. As if the burden weighs heavily on his shoulders and this is the only time he can leave small visible cracks in his normally impenetrable countenance. 

Lonely. He looks lonely. 

Maybe he's not so different from you after all. 

Your tail fin shakes a little harder, the fingers on your hands flexing agitatedly. What was with this human, anyway? Why were you wasting your time here, trying to understand his fragile and insignificant human feelings when the time for hunting had obviously not even begun? This kind of behavior was not common in your species. Of course, if any of your sisters showed up you could just say that you were observing your prey, getting to know its weak points better for when the time came to attack. 

But was that really what you were doing? 

The human rests his elbows and leans his body on the edge of the ship, once again bringing the cigarette to his lips. His strong forearms are exposed by the rolled-up sleeve of his black shirt, showing off a pale ivory complexion, long and prominent veins along its length. He is like a carefully crafted statue, his body agile and tall, powerful and elegant. 

He tilts his face gently and blinks slowly and vaguely. You recognize that this is the worst moment to realize that from where you are standing you can't tell the exact shade of his eye - apparently his only good eye, in fact. The thought leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

You want to know what color his eye is.

"Gods, what am I doing?" You mutter sullenly as you sink gently, pushing your body closer to the ship with a flick of your tail. Despite your obvious and undeniable propensity for making reckless choices, your movements are carefully calculated, using the waves and the blind spots of the moonlight to cover any suspicious tracks. 

You are now as close to the human vessel as you have ever been - at least outside of a context other than exclusively for attack and feeding. If you swing your tail enough you might even touch the side of the ship, the human hovering a few feet above you. Your hands are strangely trembling beneath the surface, nervous and anxious, and you flex your fingers to contain your stupid reaction, feeling the sharp tips of your claws in contact with the soft palms. 

Your discretion is rewarded with the human's seemingly complete ignorance, who remains in the same position as before, still smoking and staring at the choppy waves, oblivious to your presence. You sigh softly, a sound of relief, letting your eyes travel over the sharp, clear lines of his masculine face. 

The night is dark, cloudy, with only the moonlight and a few lights from the human vessel itself illuminating the surroundings. But your eyes are capable, much more capable than a human's, made to see perfectly underwater and stalk your prey with skill, and you part your lips when you clearly realize that his eye is blue. As blue as the sea is near the coast, where the waves shine with a crystalline and mesmerizing prism, like ethereal stained glass. 

As bright as... 

The man exhales another mouthful of that intoxicating smoke into the humid night air, but you barely blink where you stand. Your fingers instinctively close around the stone attached to the necklace floating in front of your breasts. The blue gem is cold against your fingertips, but you know its power and magic burn like burning embers. 

You’re so distracted that you barely notice the significance of the human’s next move, your eyes only half noticing his hand rising to his face. You watch without really seeing as he removes the eye patch from his face, vaguely returning to the present as you think of the strange break in routine that this act has made - he had never removed the eye patch during the nights you had been watching. 

He would go out, smoke that horrible cigarette without any rush while looking out at the endless sea, throw the toxic stuff on the floor when he was done and extinguish the ember with a drag of his boot before entering the ship to sleep. Every night, religiously. 

Any thoughts of routine evaporate from your mind when the leather finally comes off his face, caught between the captain’s fingers as he lowers his hand. Your lips part and your eyes widen, your tail freezes below the surface for a few seconds. 

There is a stone where his eye should be. A blue stone. A stone you would recognize anywhere. Your own blue gem seems to warm between your fingers in response, glowing subtly as if sensing the presence of a twin stone.

“W-what...but - how?” You whisper, confused and alarmed. How could this human have something like this? Not even all sirens had such a stone. You yourself only managed to find yours a few years ago.

The Ocean's Tear, as the stone was known to your kin, was an extremely rare and nearly impossible to find relic, treasured by all sirens for its power to grant them specific ‘gifts’. The gifts vary from individual to individual, however. While some could heal themselves from any harm, some could hear the thoughts of others as if they were their own, others could persuade any living creature to do what they wanted. The possibilities go on and on.

You, after decades of tireless searching, had found your gem in a remote corner of the ocean, having gone through thirst, hunger and almost losing your own life when facing a relentless pod of hungry orcas that chased you at some point towards the end of the journey. It was an exhausting search and almost cost you more than you were willing to give, but it was all worth it when you finally touched your own 'ocean's tear'. You remember how the jewel warmed slightly and sparkled like countless bright diamond points between your trembling fingers, reacting instantly to your touch, as if it had also been waiting for this moment all its life - waiting for you all its life. 

You cried that day, for the first time.

Of course, after days and days of the gem hanging proudly around your neck and nothing different happening, you started to get suspicious. Days turned into months and months stretched into years and you didn't see any change in your body; no psychic gifts, no persuasive power over sea creatures or self-healing abilities. You were still just you, the same as always. 

It was frustrating and humiliating. 

But you couldn't stop wearing the jewel, after all it was still the 'ocean's tear'. Any siren who had it would automatically gain the silent respect of others. You were someone capable with this stone. With it, you were important. Someone wise and strong enough to seek and find the impossible. You were proud to show off your relic - even if it was useless in the end. 

The bad mood was constantly present with you since then. Disappointed, but strangely not surprised. Of course this would happen to you; of course you would swim tirelessly across the seven seas in search of the jewel of jewels and it simply wouldn't work for you. That's the kind of karma that haunts you. 

You had almost died to conquer the impossible only to find out that the impossible didn't want you. 

And now this human dares to flaunt the impossible as if it were something anyone could have? 

As if it were something that some random human who thinks he knows the ocean could claim for himself just because he has a ship and other stupid little humans to put inside it? 

The stone wouldn't do anything for him, you know. The gem only reacts to sirens, without exception. This human dared to steal something that belongs to your species, only for the artifact to be absolutely wasted in the end. In this human's hands the jewel was just a cold, shiny stone. Beautiful and exotic, no doubt, but useless. 

(But wasn't it also useless in your hands?)

You snarl at your own incriminating thought, narrowing your eyes to slits as you watch the human tilt his face - oblivious to the dangerous and highly emotional turmoil of a supposedly non-existent creature right next to him. The moonlight gloriously intensifies the smooth complexion of his handsome face, the aristocratic line of his nose, the long silver strands fluttering in the wind. His good eye and the damned stolen jewel, dark as the deep waters of the sea.

The instant thought that this human, selfish and cruel as he is, could be as deserving (or undeserving, in this case) as you of something as pure and sacred as the ocean's tear, is so offensive that it is physically nauseating. How could he have something that you have spent decades of your life searching for? Something that countless of your sisters would never even have the privilege of seeing, much less having for themselves? He does not deserve this.

Your teeth grind, the sharp canines piercing the inside of your mouth until you taste your own blood. 

He's the enemy. No matter how interesting and handsome you find him, the stone (an heirloom of your people, not his) that he sports embedded in his face is just more proof of how dirty and morally corrupt humans are - something that, admittedly, you have known all along. 

He's a thief. A sneaky usurper. 

Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive. Take an interest in a human. And you know it. From the human race, only the worst is expected, really. You just hated that this human in question was so fascinating. 

"How did you get this?" 

Your own grumpy voice echoes in the silence of the night, scaring not only the human on the ship, but yourself as well. The sound is a bubbling rustle of words, hoarse around the edges and almost brittle from disuse, rarely having been used for conversational purposes. But it is audible enough to catch the human's attention. Your eyes widen, any animosity and anger instantly forgotten in the shock of your complete and utter lack of control. The man turns his head in the direction of your voice, quick as a whip, at exactly the same moment that you react and dive. 

"Idiot, idiot, idiot!" You repeat the mantra, swimming until you are at a safe depth. 

The question had simply slipped through your lips without you being able to stop it, but you knew how much you had screwed up. 

Looking up, distressed and uncertain, you see through the ripples of the water that the human is staring intently at the sea, his one eye sliding from one corner to the other - trying to find the source of the voice he heard. The darkness of the night is on your favor and you know he can't see anything but foam and the dark waves, no matter how hard he tries. You hope he quickly comes to the most logical conclusion for this situation; that he didn't hear what he thinks he heard. It was just his own mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he blames it on tiredness and sleep, or the lack of it. 

But as he stands there, brows furrowed and serious eye, stubbornly searching for something that even he himself wouldn't know what, something whispers to you that he won't just give up. 

"Hello?" He asks in a thick, drawling tone, tired you notice, once again leaning slightly on the side of the ship to better see the waters below. When no sound other than the waves of the sea is heard, he hums thoughtfully for a moment, almost imperceptibly softening his frown to something more neutral and calm. "It's okay. I know you're there. It's not the first time I feel like I'm being watched, to be honest." His voice is the same as you remember; steady, controlled, a low timbre that’s almost husky around the edges. You would be delighted by it, as you have been many times before, if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack, your cheeks darkening in embarrassment at the confirmation that he’d somehow felt your presence this whole time.

Gods, a human was embarrassing you. What had you come to?

"But this is the first time you've said anything. I have to say that you surprised me tonight, since I assumed we'd be playing this game for a while longer." He continues, a vaguely playful quirk in his drawl, adjusting his body so that he's leaning sideways on the deck and bringing what's left of his cigarette to lips again. Your heart pounds violently in your chest, your tail fin rattling restlessly with your anxiety. 

You don't know why you're still here. 

He puffs out his swirling cloud of smoke, looking completely at ease and at ease with the situation - although he's heard a mysterious, feminine voice ring out in the middle of the night, in one of the most dangerous parts of the entire ocean, in a place where he logically knows there no be any women. But he remains calm. Unlike you, who have everything but control over yourself at this moment. And, once again, you feel diminished by this human. 

He behaves in the opposite direction of what you're used to from human behavior. He confuses and intrigues you, awakening feelings you never imagined you had for someone of his kind. 

Here you were, undeniably afraid of being caught, but unable to simply swin away and leave him behind. All because some random human had made you interested in him. Turned you into a soft thing, fascinated by unusual hair colors and eye patches. Watching a lesser creature constantly, attentively and almost obsessively, like a damn stalker would - and not even in the sense you normally watch humans; in the context of predator and prey. With each passing day it became more evident that you were not planning to eat this human. 

It was just you, interested in him. 

For the first time in your long life, you don't know what you're doing. He messes with the natural order of things and you don't know what to do. 

The world has grown old. But not you, nor any of your many sisters. The world has grown old, but it has always been the same to you. There has always been an order to follow. You have been here for longer than you can remember, hidden beneath the waves while the men above came and went, building and destroying everything around them. You have watched them grow into selfish, greedy creatures, thirsting for a dominion over the world they are unable to maintain. Blind to the fact that there are other forms of life besides their own, men see themselves as better and more important, hunting and killing without scruple or consideration those they consider inferior to them. Without remorse. 

But it is here, in the far corners of the ocean, that they find retribution for their acts of greed. 

Men take everything. But here, shadowed by legends and tales, the sirens feed on men; on proud sailors roaming the vast blue sea, their noses in the air and their egos throbbing that nothing could harm them. 

You were the men's reckoning. That was all. This was the natural order of things. 

The time for the men on this ship, including their fascinating captain, was approaching, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to prevent such a fate. You shouldn’t entertain mixed feelings for him. You shouldn’t. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t do anything against an entire horde of sirens that would inevitably be here soon. Cultivating any feelings wouldn’t do him any good, much less you. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to show up yet. You’ve already given me the proof I needed to know that I’m not insane, and I appreciate that.” He continues his monologue above the surface, unfazed by the lack of response, a small, amused tug at the corner of his pink lips. Below the waters you almost snort, thinking that he definitely shouldn’t be grateful for that. Regardless of whether you decided to show up or not, he would still be considered, at the very least, ‘insane’ by anyone who heard this story later. 

His words, however, bring heat to your stomach, rising until it darkens your cheeks. 

The Captain Targaryen had graced you with fine words, admittedly, simple as they were, and perhaps there was some truth to them. He had always been different, after all; he lacked the common harshness and cruelty with which captains tended to lead their crews. He had a fair amount of coldness in his speech, true, and his humor was acidic and even dark at times. But he did not seem cruel. He commanded with a firm hand, yes, but also with respect. 

Perhaps, deep down, he meant well. 

But there was still that voice that screamed that his nature would inevitably betray him. He was human, after all. It was in his nature to be seduced by his own greed and ambition. You only wondered how long it would be before the tide turned and he showed his true colors.

But even knowing all this, you find yourself unable to stop yourself from making the next monumental mistake. 

The man sighs wearily one last time, betraying his indifferent facade, the cigarette clutched between his fingers falling to the floor of the deck, just waiting for the usual drag of the sole of his boot. He looks a little longer at the dark waves below, his neutral expression not wavering much, but there is that same glint that screams loneliness flickering discreetly in his blue gaze - the stolen stone singing to you from the other side. He would leave. 

Before you think, you are acting. 

In your seriously questionable logic, you know that nothing has really changed around you. But in your body powered purely by adrenaline and poor choices, you feel as if even the waves have calmed in response to your action. The world stands still as you push yourself to the surface with a rhythmic undulation of your tail, webbed fingers moving in unison. Even the wind seems to have died down; all you can hear is your blood rushing in your ears. Deep in your chest, something pulls, twists, hurts — sings — 

Your head slowly emerges from the water.  

It takes a few seconds for the Captain’s gaze to settle on you, and you could have used that time to try to make amends for your rash decision, but you choose not to move. And when he looks at you, his indifferent expression finally cracking to reveal a single wide eye and lips parted to gasp a startled sound and you finely sketch a reaction other than silent hysteria. A shy smile stretches your plush lips as you notices his expression, despite how seriously damaged your nerves are — perhaps irreparably. You did this, you broke that perfect calm of his. 

Despite your silent victory, your large, narrow-pupiled eyes stare back at him with apprehension, your heart racing in your chest and your breathing ragged. There’s a moment when neither of you make a move, both frozen in place, unsure of what the hell to do with the surreal scene unfolding right in front of you. 

It feels like an eternity in the void before you’re swallowing the uncomfortable lump that’s permanently lodged in your throat, daring to swim in hesitant jerks closer to the vessel. 

He watches you with unwavering focus, a little more composed, but still open-mouthed. His steps stagger slightly, but eventually he too makes his way toward the lower part of the ship, where you’re swimming. 

You stop when you reach the raised boarding platform, the human slowly approaching from the other side, never taking his eye off you, as if afraid to blink and you’ll disappear. He stops walking when you raise a hand, blinking in surprise at the elastic, almost transparent membrane between your spread fingers. 

Somehow he quickly understands what you want, shaking his head once to signal that he won’t go any further from that point. With that, you prop your elbows on the edge of the platform, lifting yourself just a few inches above the surface, the heavy strands slick on your head and saltwater running down your cheeks to drip from the tip of your chin, the bridge of your nose, and the arch of your lips. 

“I...fuck, what the hell was in that cigarette anyway?” He gasps and crouches awkwardly, looking away at the length of your long tail swaying beneath the waves, lush fins undulating languidly like a delicate wet veil in the wind. He takes in every last detail of you with absolute focus, leaving you as embarrassed as you're flattered — but mostly, hyper-aware of yourself. But you force yourself to relax, trying to imagine yourself through his gaze.

The countless shiny scales all over your tail range from an endless expanse of onyx to purple at some angles, gradually lightening to the side fins and the end of your tail, tinged with a striking shade of translucent lilac. The purple scales were also dotted softly all over your body; rising in a perfect gradient from the sides of your waist until disappearing into the soft cream of your skin, on the undersides and sides of your forearms and elbows, delicately covering the soft, discreet mounds of your breasts and marking the entire line of your spine. 

There is a discreet dusting on the tops of your cheeks, a subtle kaleidoscope of purple and soft pink that transforms into small, bright freckles as your emotions rise - as they are right now. Your full, pink lips hide almost normal teeth, except for the dangerously sharp canines and incisors. Long, thick eyelashes over a pair of large, expressive eyes with slitted pupils like a cat's. Your hair waves around the shoulders, floating beneath the surface of the water in a slow dance, partially hiding the three small lines that mark the gills on either side of your neck. Your hands, though small and seemingly delicate, are adorned with long, sharp claws, as dark as the darkest part of the ocean, the thin translucent membrane between your fingers much stronger than it looks. 

It's unnerving how insecure he makes you with his prolonged silence, just looking at every inch of you with his bright eye and parted lips. 

You know you're beautiful. If there's any truth to the many tales about your species, it's the undeniably seductive appeal of your appearance. Deadly beauty, the tales say. It's your greatest hunting trick, after all. But under the weight of that watchful gaze, you find yourself unable to escape the clutches of insecurity. What if he didn't find your colors appealing? It's true that your scales aren't as vibrant and colorful as some of your sisters. Your tones are more muted and simple compared to the bright and open ones of your distant relatives. Maybe he found you...too dark? 

And why is this human's opinion so important to you? 

You huff and straighten up until your shoulders are completely out of the water, the sapphire pendant floating in front of your chest. Your expression takes on notes of embarrassed annoyance, the small freckles on your cheeks and the bridge of your nose shimmering subtly. The human drinks in your reaction attentively, not understanding what they mean, but undeniably fascinated by them. 

"You're...holy shit...this is a dream, right? It can't be real. You can't be real." He mutters lazily, voice slurred and thick, wide hands flexing at his sides in two tense fists, the night wind mussing the moon-like strands of his hair. "I knew there was something out there all along, but this...you..." he shakes his head in denial before continuing, "nothing as completely perfect as you can be real."

Oh. The dusting of color on your cheeks deepens and you look away, uncomfortable with the stupid shiver in your belly at the human’s words. Why did he have to be so rudely blunt? You blink the salty sea water out of your eyes a few times before looking back up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning an indifference you don’t feel. Rude, definitely. But, gods, such a handsome rude. His sharp features are as delicate in some ways as they are rough in others. A man, undeniably. The lights from the ship illuminate his striking features, highlighting skin as smooth and pale as the sand on the clearest beach.

Except for one detail.

The flickering yellow of the artificial lights only intensifies the depth of a grotesque scar across that false eye. Your eyes narrow slightly, following the rough, jagged line of the cut that runs from the middle of his forehead down his cheekbone, ending just inches above the corner of his lip. A raw, deep cut, a wound that certainly caused him a lot of pain - perhaps it still does. A scar like that indicates a trauma that cannot be easily overcome after all. 

Did he get it while he was behind the ocean's tear? 

The thought inevitably brings you back to what was the trigger for this whole colossal mistake, making you quickly focus on the blue stone in his left eye while trying to ignore the discomfort of seeing such a comprehensive wound on this human. 

"How..." You rasp, pushing the hoarseness out of your normally melodic timbre, even though your tongue feels uncomfortable inside your mouth and your throat scratches from being used after so much time in silence. The man looks at you with disturbing focus, however, his gaze lazy and bright, his lips slightly parted, as if he were listening to the most enchanting and pure sound of all. "How did you get that?" You point a finger at the stone when you manage to say the words, direct and honest, leaving no room for confusion. 

He blinks once. 

"Uh, this?" He extends two fingers to the stone in question, tapping its cool surface twice, a slight tug of amusement on his lips. “I found this a while back when diving near a reef. Shinier than anything I've ever seen.” He sounds almost proud as he drawls, though he shrugs at the end — as if the accomplishment isn’t all that big of a deal after all. 

Your fascination with the human is eclipsed by the blinding wave of irritation and humiliation that rushes through your veins at the sudden words. What the hell does he mean, ‘found this a while back’? As if the fucking ocean's tear is something a stupid human could just stumble upon by accident? Near a reef, of all places! As if something so inexplicably valuable could be so easily discoverable?

Fuck, as if you didn't literally almost die because of that!

What were the gods doing to you, anyway? What kind of cruel joke was this? How much more would you have to be humiliated by this human before you finally snapped and killed him?

“Liar.” You hiss slowly through your dangerous teeth, refusing to believe this lame version of the story. Your eyes narrow and your nose furrows a fraction, along with your eyebrows. Beneath the surface of the water your tail jerks restlessly, creating a visible ripple in the waves around you. The human, to your silent satisfaction, seems to have some sense after all and notices that something has changed in you. His posture, once reverent and curious, is now more alert and cautious, though he doesn’t pull away immediately. His shoulders roll slowly beneath the shirt and his jaw tenses once before he extends his open hands to you in what should be a reassuring gesture.

"Hey, it's okay..." His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, and it's embarrassing how his calm tone has an effect on you, making you almost instantly relax your fingers clenched into tight fists that you barely noticed you were holding. He remains crouched for a few seconds, but shrugs his shoulders and arches his back a little, as if he wanted to make himself smaller for you. Less threatening. You almost burst out laughing at the sheer silliness of it. 

This human wouldn't be a threat to you even if he were at his full height - which you admittedly agree is well above any human you've ever met. Even watching from afar all these nights, it was clear to you that his size surpassed yours in almost every way. Your upper half, of course. He was wide and tall where you were seemingly delicate and fragile. Except for your tail. At its full length you would be much taller than him. 

Yes, you may seem delicate overall, but that is just another deceptive hunting device, a feminine appeal that screams fragility and seduction, luring your prey until it is too late for them. 

You are anything but weak, and no matter what, he is still human. His strength, as great as it may be, would still be nothing compared to yours. One move, right now, and he would be dead. If you really wanted this, it would be over before he even realized what had happened. 

You could wrap your fingers around his ankle and pull him into the dark waters; it would take just the right amount of pressure and speed and he would hit his head on the deck as he fell, probably dying instantly from the blow. But even if he survived that, his end would come quickly beneath the cruel waves of the ocean. Whether from the inevitable loss of oxygen, or the absurd pressure as you pulled him under, or even from the deadly claws you would sink into the fragile flesh of his human body. Or even your fangs, long and sharp as needles as they slice into the pale softness of his throat, draining the life out of him as he gurgle and choke on blood and salt water. 

There were at least ten ways you could kill this human right here and now, and you wouldn’t even have to think about it. It would be natural, you’ve done it before. If you wanted to, he’d already be dead. 

But… 

You don’t want to. 

And that’s why you don’t laugh at his attempt to calm you down. You don’t laugh because it’s not funny. There’s no humor in the feeling of mourning in your chest for that instinctive, natural part that seems to have laid down and died inside you. There’s no hunger, no thirst, no desire to make him pay for humanity’s selfish, cruel acts. There’s no predator and prey tonight. 

You blink away the sting of tears wanting to form, tense expression softening to something almost melancholic, fins flicking slowly beneath the water. By the seas, you wouldn't cry in front of this human. It would be the height of your humiliation.

"What I said is true, I swear." He continues his soothing murmur, slowly lowering his palms, looking straight into your eyes with such interest and focus that you feel as if it were just the two of you in the world. What a foolish thought. "I actually found the stone by accident. It was just a dive like any other, nothing special. And then it was there. So bright that even hidden under the sand I could see it perfectly." He smiles a little at the memory, reciting the facts calmly and carefully, obviously wanting to avoid angering you again. "It doesn't shine like it used to though, now it looks more like a dead flame or something. I don't think it belongs in the world outside the sea." A tired sigh escapes his lips at the end, his expression almost disappointed - even though he's trying for a reassuring smile. 

You snort. 

"Of course it isn't. But that's what you humans do, after all. Always taking what doesn't belong to you." You recite the words in a disapproving tone that doesn’t carry as much hate as it should. Not for him, at least. 

He looks at you with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows, forearms resting on his knees as he thinks about what you just said. 

“Yes. I suppose so.” He murmurs after what feels like a lifetime, exhaling through his nose. 

There’s silence between the two of you after that, nothing but the waves crashing against the hull of the ship as he stands contemplatively looking at you, as if searching for answers in your face. He’s not embarrassed by it, nor does he even try to hide his obvious interest in you. It’s unsettling, to say the least, to have this human’s attention so completely on you. Flattering too, but you don’t think much of it. 

You definitely don’t want to be the first one to look away, but you’re getting restless with the intense eye contact and the silence, your sharp nails rhythmically drumming on the metal of the plataform. The shiny dust on your cheeks and nose becomes more and more evident, and perhaps the Captain is finally connecting the dots because a small smile stretches his lips - a genuine smile this time, something light and sweet, but undeniably provocative. 

"It's doesn't react to you!" You say abruptly, spitting out the first thing that came to mind just to break the tension of the silence between the two of you. But your tone is too shrill and loud not to be seen as suspicious, increasing the color and intensity of the shiny dots on your cheeks and shoulders. The captain raises his eyebrow in amused question, indicating that he hadn't understood. You sigh, swallowing your own embarrassment. 

"The stone. It's a special jewel... very sensitive, intelligent even, you could say. It's extremely reactive, just not to everyone." He listens to you attentively and with a sharp gaze, almost making you stumble over your own words a few times. "It doesn't shine like it used to because you're human and the stone know it. The ocean's tear, as it's called, only reacts to...uh, well...sea creatures." You find yourself irritatingly unable to explicitly say what you are, even though it's more than obvious by now. Some kind of throbbing self-consciousness takes hold of your mind, the very real realization that he can and probably will come to the inevitable conclusion that you and he are creatures from different worlds tightens your vocal cords and stops you from continuing. 

Good heavens, as if the disparity between the two of you wasn't already obvious enough. Why would you suddenly be worried about it?

“Creatures like you, I suppose.” He contemplates, ruining your earlier subtlety with his irritating honesty. A small, sullen pout forms on your lower lip at that, more glittering dust of color staining your cheeks. 

This was getting beyond ridiculous. 

“Here.” You sigh grudgingly, breaking eye contact to pull the blue pendant from your long necklace between your thumb and forefinger. The stone is, as you said, reactive and immediately comes to life under your touch, singing and vibrating in the most beautiful shade of blue; prisms ​​of diamonds and sapphires, resplendent and pure. The Captain Targaryen has the decency to look positively delighted to see this — as he should — and you smile softly at his reaction, finding great satisfaction in his rosy cheeks and bright gaze. 

And then he’s standing to walk towards you, but stops short when you narrow your eyes and tense. 

"It's okay. It's okay. I just want to..." he points to the stone, and you look at it. Then at him. And at the stone. And back at him. "I just want to get a closer look. But it's okay, I don't want to make you uncomfortable." 

You're already uncomfortable, you want to scream. You've been uncomfortable for weeks now. He's seen you, talked to you, heard more words from you than you've said to any other human - more words than you've said to any species in a long time, including your own. None of it made you comfortable. And yet, here you were. It would be a stupid, reckless mistake, no doubt about it. But you've been nothing but stupid and reckless these past few days. It couldn't get any worse. 

(Yes, it could.) 

"It's okay." You mumble, relaxing the muscles in your body and softening your expression into what you hope is something more friendly, more inviting. "You can come closer." 

"Yeah?" He asks and you just nod once, not wanting to repeat yourself. 

It takes him a few seconds to continue, but eventually moves. The tops of his boots are quickly soaked as he lowers onto the platform, the salty water lapping in small waves at his ankles. Something in your stomach feels alive, you notice with apprehension as you hold his gaze, fluttering and growing colder with each step he takes towards you. A sort of instinct growing and taking over you, taking over the strings of your body as if you were just watching everything from the outside, without control. 

Your arms seek better support on the deck and you push yourself up, sitting as best you can on the floor, your back against the edge of the vessel, most of your tail still floating under the water. It's an instinctive reaction, really, and you barely realize what you're doing before it's done. It's not comfortable, you realize immediately, but what's done is done and the human's dumbfounded look is worth the awkward position. 

"I..." he begins uncertainly, crouching back down on his knees, this time right next to you, taking your permission to come closer very seriously. 

His gaze inevitably drops to where your breasts are exposed, his chest rising and falling faster the longer he keeps his attention there. It's not an offensive behavior, although it still makes you self-conscious in a funny way. It's not his fault, really. They're just there, in front of him - without any of the fabric coverings that humans are used to wearing. It would be impossible not to notice. And, well, they're different. You know they're not the conventional breasts he's used to seeing, most likely. Unlike human breasts, your soft mounds are dotted with flexible, delicate scales in a prism of lavender and purple, with no nipples in sight. But they're still breasts, and he's still a man. So he stares, until he realizes he's still staring. His pale cheeks grow pinker and he quickly looks up at your face as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't. 

A shy, yet somewhat mischievous smile stretches your lips despite your nerves.

"Fuck, this is insane." He scratches the back of his neck as he half laughs, half gasps, and for the first time, you find yourself agreeing wholeheartedly with this human. This is insane. 

His reaction makes you relax a little, and soon you're holding the stone between your humiliatingly trembling fingers again and holding it out to him, as far as the necklace around your neck allow. He's closer to you than he's ever been, so close that you can smell the ghost of artificial mint tobacco on his breath. It's horrible. It's perfect. 

The wind is more urgent now, whistling and howling and foaming water hitting the sides of the ship harder - as if the elements themselves are trying to warn you of the dangers of this approach. 

You don't listen. 

"It's...perfect." The captain whispers as he holds the stone, his long fingers inevitably brushing yours during the exchange, sending an electrifying, heated sensation through your entire body. He lowers his head to get a better look at the stone that gradually fades as it is held by his human hand, the vibrant and ethereal glow of blue fading to a darker shade. "Look at this, I guess I'm nothing special, hm?" He says this smiling, the stone still clutched in his fingers raised between your bodies, your faces close to each other. When he looks up at yours you are already looking at him, blinking with your large and expressive eyes. 

Your own fingers raise, hesitant and curious, to the stone in his eye. You are slow with it, giving both him time to stop you if he wants to and yourself, but in the end neither of you reacts. The human just looks at your fingers before slowly shifting to your eyes once more, the night wind pushing a strands of silver between your faces until they touch your cheeks in a strangely intimate caress. When the tip of your two fingers touches the cool surface of the jewel it reacts immediately, drawing a sigh from both of you. The gem shines, warms under your touch, singing in vibrant and lively tones. 

"I can feel -" The man murmurs almost breathlessly, blue eye wide open, dark pupil dilating like an endless black hole, searching your gaze as if you held all the answers he needs. 

"What can you feel?" Your voice is no better than his, just as small and low. Your trembling fingers still on the jewel, feeling its vibration, listening reverently to the secret and silent song that it could only sing for you. The pure brightness reflects on your face, illuminating your features with a soft blue shade, enchanting the man in front of you as if you were an angelic image. A mythical and unattainable creature. A siren, in fact. 

"I can feel...you." He confides with a reverent look, your own jewel still firmly gripped in his fingers, although inert and dark. The disparity should be frightening -; under your touch the gems shine and come to life, in his they wither and fall asleep. It should be just another indisputable proof in the already very high pile of evidence of how unnatural any involvement between you two would be. 

But the collision is inevitable like the approaching storm. 

He moves, leaning his body to kneel on the floor, soaking the fabric of his pants with the cold waves that partially cover this part of the deck. His tall, broad-shouldered body shadows yours, naturally trapping you against the side of the ship. Simultaneously you both release the grip your had on the jewels, as if you felt something had changed in the air. The pulsing muscle in your chest seems more intense and faster than ever as you looks at that stupid human, so close and so bold. 

"What's your name?" He asks quietly, watching you so closely that you can barely focus on what was said, the question coming to you like an afterthought or a bruise that you only notice hours after it happened.

A name? Gods, how long has it been since you were called by your own name? How many decades has it been since someone cared enough to ask? 

You whisper your name to him, confiding a part of yourself that was rarely spoken to anyone. 

"..." he murmurs back, your own name sounding like the sunset over the ocean as it leaves his lips, beautiful and peaceful, yet breathtaking. You blink slowly, feeling as if inverse forces are at work in this moment. Feeling as if he has the gift of enchantment, unlike you. What is happening? "I am -" 

"Captain Targaryen," you are quick to add, already accustomed to hearing his crew repeat his designation. 

"Well, yes, that is usually what I am called..." he laughs softly, tilting his head an inch closer to you, meeting your gaze over the bridge of his nose. "But it is not my name." 

Oh. Yes, of course. You know it. 

He touches a damp strand of your hair, curious and gentle before letting the pad of his finger trace over the delicate curve of your nose, the outline of your eyebrows. 

“Aemond,” the captain murmurs, and then presses the pad of his thumb against your lip, gently. You shiver, exhaling shakily at the touch. “My name is Aemond.” 

Aemond. 

The name rolls off your tongue and you repeat it, sweet as molasses, petal lips sliding against his thumb as you do so. He swallows with an almost mesmerizing movement of his Adam’s apple, heated gaze following the way his thumb presses against the soft fur of your bottom lip once more before he lets go of the touch. It’s almost disappointing to miss, but soon you realize he’s touching the bright freckles high on your cheeks and nose, one at a time, and then further to scratch along the shadows of color in your skin. 

He’s close, almost sharing the same breath with you, so intensely interested in you that your heart catches in a slow burst of heat — of desire. An old feeling, hidden and locked away beneath layers of loneliness. 

The gills on the sides of your neck itch and your throat starts to tighten from being out of the water for so long, a warning that you need to get back in soon. You know that. 

You won’t. 

Heart in your throat, you let him smooth your cheek with soft touches, thumb tracing the entire length of the curve of your jaw until it caresses the shape of your ear. His gaze is heavy on yours, mesmerized and fascinated, even though you haven’t used any of your gifts of enchantment. Not this time. Never with him. 

“Beautiful.” He sings you an honest compliment and is so gentle, careful, hesitant even, as he pulls your face to his, and you feel the whisper of a nose slowly sliding against yours before thunder is heard in the distance. The sound isn't loud or clear enough to alert the human, but your sensitive ears are able to hear it perfectly and it's enough to snap you out of whatever spell you were trapped in. 

He blinks rapidly with his one functional eye, the stone beside him now darkened to its previous shade of navy blue as you freeze and turn away from him, returning to the water with an abrupt and unkind movement. You keep your head above the surface however, staring at the heavy clouds forming more and more in the vastness above, feigning indifference to everything that has happened while your heart still thunders in your chest. 

"A storm is coming." Is all you say, praying to any divine being that may exist that your expression is as serene and calm as you are trying to pretend. 

The Captain - Aemond - is standing in the same position, looking at you with that stupid face, so confused and hesitant, as if trying to figure out what he had done wrong. 

"Uh... I don't -"

He tried to reach out, tried to touch your hand as it floated above the waves, but you jerked away from him, sending him a narrowed, warning look, sharp fangs bared in a loud hiss.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, and your voice is venomous to him, for the first time. It hurts you to see the surprise on his face, the silent beginning of that realization that you could be a dangerous thing after all. You are.

It hurts, but you welcome the feeling. It is all your fault. If you hadn’t been so reckless, none of this would have happened. This human would meet his inevitable death at the claws of one of his sisters without the knowledge that you existed. Without you having experienced being in his presence, feeling his touch on your skin, having his attention entirely on you. It would be easier, for both of you.

Aemond Targaryen was every rule of survival that you ignored. 

It was like one of those Greek tragedies that humans talked about so much. 

The storm is approaching quickly and with it the end of this Captain and his sailors. The horde of sirens was aware of their presence, as it had been for days, just waiting for nature to intervene to create the perfect scenario for the attack. It would be reported later as a shipwreck, an unfortunate accident at sea that could easily be dismissed without suspicion. There was nothing you could do to stop it, even if you wanted to. And gods help you, you want to. 

But you can’t save him. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” 

You stare at the dark cloud formation above once more, taking a deep breath to control the frightening wave of emotions that threatens to break your nerves. 

“Why not?” he asks, sensing the warning in your voice, and you shake your head slightly, eyes filling with tears — tears you haven’t shed since you earned your Ocean's Tear. He calls your name and you still don’t respond. “Y/n, tell me why I shouldn’t be here.” 

He presses, a little harder now, a little more concerned, and you should respond. You should warn him about the dangers that lurk in the depths of the ocean and the bloody future predestined for him and his sailors. He deserved that much at least, right? But then again, what good would that do? What good would there be in knowing about a tragedy he can't avoid?

"I'm so sorry." You sigh without looking at him, shoulders shaking with emotions that seem too big for your body to handle. "I'm really sorry..." your voice breaks and a tear runs down your cheek as you look up at him, the sparkling freckles on your cheeks highlighted and your brows furrowed in anguish.

"...What?" He's confused, of course, not understanding the whirlwind of events that followed your contact on the ship. He senses your anguish, your reluctance to tell him what needs to be said. And, gods, he looks so beautiful like this. Icy breeze blowing his silver locks in front of his face, his eye bright and his skin pale as moonlight. "Why are you crying? Please talk to me."

You slowly approach the edge of the deck again, where he's kneeling, still waiting for you. Your chest is tight and your hands are shaking, but you think you’ll tell him. You think you’ll tell him what you know will happen, even if you’re both powerless to fight the forces of fate. He looks at you, his calm and captain’s confidence taking over again, reassuring you. Your lips part to start to speak, but the sound of approaching footsteps sends a chill down both of your spines. 

You hesitate for a second, staring at him with wide eyes. Aemond is also alert, allowing himself to look at you one more time before saying:

“Go, now! He can’t know about you!” He’s right. No human could know about you and still be alive. But here you were, staring at one you didn’t intend to kill. “Wait-” He keeps his voice low as he watches you prepare to go, though his tone is urgent. His gaze is pleading, not wanting to leave you but knowing he has to. “Come back tomorrow, please.” 

You coo, a sad sound, wanting to tell him there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Not for him, at least. But instead, you wrap your smaller hand around his, careful of your claws, leaving a gentle grip on his knuckles as you look up at him with teary eyes. 

“Take care, Captain Targaryen.” That’s all you say before you dive into the dark expanse of the ocean, never looking back. You couldn’t. Not when you felt so helpless. The jewel hanging from your neck protests and burns your skin so much that it even tears a grunt of pain from your lips, but you don't stop swimming, powerful fins pushing you as deep into the ocean as you can go. Silently you curse the stupid thing for not giving any sign of life in all these years, but choosing this moment to show that it was there.  

The final act of this tale of tragedy was herep and your human would meet his bitter end at the merciless claws of one of his sisters.

You can't save him.

You can't... 

You... 

You can? 

(And why did you think of him as 'your human' now?)

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Protect (Luffy)

Imagine guarding Luffy’s hat.

Warnings: hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,224

(Not my gif)

There is something you are one hundred percent certain of. In a life plagued with precariousness and anxiety, there is one truth you can always cling to.

And that is the fact that your captain, Monkey D. Luffy, always has your back.

No matter what situation you find yourself in, he never fails to brighten your day with a smile and defeat whatever foe you're facing.

Whether you're homesick, bored, or literally having your life threatened, he's always right by your side.

He guards each of his crew with a vigour that only he can. His warm smile brighter than a thousand suns as he celebrates yet another victory.

There is another thing you're certain of.

That your captain has one treasure more precious than any of his other objects.

His straw hat.

Given to him by the infamous Red-Haired Shanks, Luffy values that hat above all else.

Even at the cost of his own safety.

There's been countless times where you've watched in horror as Luffy was struck but managed to keep one hand firmly atop his hat.

It never got easier seeing him battle men quadruple his size and strength. Your stomach would clench with worry and you'd do your best to help battle the other opponents, but you always felt so helpless.

Watching him take on such intense foes made you feel proud of him and also concerned for his well being.

Although now that you've been sailing as a Straw Hat Crew member for months, you've come to realize that your captain can take on anything.

His hat, less so.

So, here you sit, quietly mending his hat as Luffy gapes at your handiwork.

"Awesome!" He grins, face alight with joy, "You're good at this, Y/n!"

"I'm just glad you're okay," you confess, carefully stitching away.

It's no secret how you feel about Luffy: everyone on the crew knows about your crush. And you have confidence that Luffy feels the same way.

It's in the little things he does. Always finding an excuse to hug you, explore new islands with you, and even share his food with you. And he never shares his food with anyone else.

So, it's safe to say he at least likes you.

He laughs, "You need to stop worrying so much!"

"You need to stop getting beat up!" You fire back, finishing your stitch. "Seriously, I'm starting to think you like pain."

He laughs, "I don't! But I got him in the end, Y/n! That's all that matters."

You sigh and motion for him to bow his head. He does and you gently set his hat back in its rightful place.

He grins up at you, "Thanks, Y/n! Let's go see if Sanji's done making supper!"

Luffy snatches your hand in his as soon as you drop your needle into your sewing kit. He drags you into the kitchen, using his devil fruit power to snatch up an apple.

"Sanji," he mumbles around a mouthful of fruit, "When's food gonna be ready? I'm hungry."

"Not yet," the cook shakes his head. "I need thirty more minutes."

Luffy groans loudly, leaning his head on your shoulder, "That's too long!"

"You have to wait!"

Luffy scrunches his nose in annoyance before dragging you outside again. Once there, he shoves the apple near your mouth, "Have a bite!"

You're surprised he hasn't eaten it all already. Opening your mouth, you take a large bite of the tangy goodness, humming your approval.

"Thanks," you start to mumble but he stops you mid sentence by leaning in and pressing his lips to yours.

A furious heat flushes your face at his abrupt actions.

"W-what was that for?"

He grins and swipes his tongue over his mouth, "You had juice on your lips."

You're floored, unable to respond as the kiss replays in your head. Meanwhile, he's already walking away with a giddy giggle.

~

You watch with bated breath as Luffy's hat goes flying.

He's fighting a particularly strong foe, having to use all his focus on the battle.

Without a second thought, you race after his treasure, determined to keep it safe for him. He's always doing so much for you, so you want to return the favour.

The other Straw Hats are occupied, no one noticing as you slip away to chase after the stray hat. A strong wind has blown it quite the distance, and you find it stuck on a tree branch.

You grab it, turning on your heel to trudge back to the main fight. But there's a problem.

A large group of marines stand in front of you, each one wearing a menacing grin.

"Look who we have here," the supposed leader comments, stepping forwards.

You instinctively hide Luffy's hat behind your back, grinning back ferociously.

"Gentlemen, what are you doing so far from the real fight?"

"Could ask you the same," he sneers. "What's that behind your back? Is it the infamous Straw Hat Luffy's straw hat?"

Your grip on the straw tightens.

"You're in charge of safeguarding it huh? Is that all you're good for?"

They laugh amongst themselves.

"I wonder if they'd kick you out if you failed the one task they gave you," he steps forward again.

"Over my dead body," you hiss, taking out your weapon after securing the hat to your belt. "If this hat is destroyed, then I have no reason to go on."

Before they can make the first move, you've taken down two of them, angered at their words and fuelled with the desire to protect Luffy's treasure.

The fight goes on too long.

Outnumbered, you take hits that knock you down and leave you bloodied and bruised. Maybe even with a few broken bones.

By now, you're on the ground, clutching the hat in your bloodied hands as a torrent of kicks fall on your back.

You took down well over half the marines but the few remaining are mad as hell and taking it out on you.

You barely register the outraged cry of your captain as he shouts, "Gum-Gum Gatling!"

The kicks stop as your attackers go flying, landing with dull thuds. They don’t get back up again.

Luffy is quick to rush to your side, “Y/n! Are you alright?!”

“Luffy,” you manage a small smile, shakily handing him his hat. “I protected your treasure.”

He doesn’t smile, in fact he looks angry.

“Idiot! You’re my treasure,” he shouts, gripping onto your shoulders, “And now you’re hurt!”

Confused, you stare up into his eyes, “But you love this hat.”

“But I love you more,” he shakes you again before screaming for Chopper to come and assess the damage done to you.

After you’re back on the ship, nicely bandaged and safe in bed, Luffy approaches you again. He seems less energetic than normal, dragging his feet as he comes to the bed.

“Thank you for protecting my hat. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”

“Luffy,” you gently clasp his hand, “You’ve always protected me.”

His eyes are wet with tears, “But-“

“I couldn’t ask for a better captain,” you reiterate, pulling him closer. “You’re all I could hope for.”

“Really?”

“Honest,” you smile, “Now come here.”

You drag him into your arms, wincing slightly. He is cautious of your injuries, gently returning your hug.

“Thank you.”

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Jane, Medical Technician

Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sorry I’m late doctor, this ship is huge.” Jane hadn’t realized until she got on board that her quarters were halfway across the ship and a full deck up from her work station in the Med Bay. She was going to have to fabricate some more sensible shoes at this rate. She wished she could have her own synthetic tree put into the med bay, just roll outta the hammock and get straight to work, but those perks belonged to the head doctor on the ship.

“It’s fine, it’s just day one,” said Doctor Huhuma, brushing it off with a wave of her furred hand. “I think I can trust these people to go at least a week without almost dying.”

While Jane Shaw was a doctor in her own right, the head physician on board the Noah was Doctor Huhuma, an Indoprime, something akin to the moneys on E24 in the Terran system, locally called Earth. They were so similar in fact that multiple ongoing studies were being conducted to see if they had any common genetic ancestry. Indoprimes stood just as tall as humans on two legs, with two arms that hung down to their torsos. The only real difference was the fur and semi prehensile tails.

“We’ve only left the station a few hours ago, what could have happened? I think today will be quiet at least,” Jane joked. As if the universe heard her and quietly whispered ‘bet’, the door to Med Bay hissed opened and in walked one of the engineers with a thin length of pipe all the way through their arm. Their green blood was a stark contrast to their gray skin and jumpsuit, and their face was turning ashen.

“Oh for- why?” Doctor Huhuma rushed over to the fresh patient. “Thanks for that, Jinxed Jane. Grab a kit, I’ll get him on the table. You had to say the Q-word, huh?”

God damnit, Jane thought. Hours into a first shift and the nickname has already come up. Jinxed Jane had followed her all throughout her residency on Earth and apparently it’d made its way into her GAIL file too.

You accidentally bump a few nurses during surgery and they never let you forget it, she thought miserly. There was a reason she was trying to get away from people who knew her. Jinxed Jane was one of them.

She grabbed a kit from the shelves and brought it to the table, handing the med scanner to the doctor.

“Thank you…sorry. For the-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jane didn’t want to think about it.

The little gray guy on the table was breathing hard. His life wasn’t in any danger, thankfully, but the pipe was only a half inch thinner than his arm. Jane recognized his species from the crew list, he was one of the Gally. Apparently they’d been to earth a ton of times in the past, abducting cattle and occasionally leaving crop circles as a joke. They’d actually shown up so often that the Gally were the default for ‘Alien’ in pop culture in the Terran System. Throughout the Galaxy and especially the GAIL member planets, the Gally were known to be obnoxious pranksters of the highest order.

“Oouuuch,” said the Gally, wincing at the pain.

“Get him a shot of something good for the pain, this’ll take a second.” The med scanner wasn’t done compiling.

“On it.” Jane grabbed a dose of multi-species painkiller from the kit, took the cap off with her teeth, and jabbed it into his thigh. Almost immediately the Gally relaxed.

“Laser wave scalpel, please,” Doctor Huhuma asked.

“Here.” Jane handed her the tool quickly, a short cylinder tapered on one end. The doctor clicked it on and a red beam several centimeters long sprouted from the tip.

“Cover his eyes for me, this might throw sparks.”

“Got it, Doc.”

Jane grabbed a surgical mask and slipped it on the Gally’s face, then took a stainless steel tray and used it to shield their eyes. Huhuma leaned down and with one hand covering her eyes, she used the laser saw to cut the pipe as close to the skin as possible. The Gally flinched at first so Jane put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him as best she could.

The pipe fell, one end red hot, and Huhuma caught it with her tail before it hit the floor.

“Okay,” the doctor said, “easy part is done, this is where it will probably be awful for you.”

“How?” The Gally asked, speaking for the first time other than slight groans of pain.

“Why don’t you tell us your name so we can get this filed away after we’re done?”

“I’m an engineer below decks, my name is Simms of the Gall-”

Huhuma pulled the pipe out the other side of his arm, causing Simms to break off his introduction for a yelp of pain. The doctor quickly took the tissue regenerator, commonly called a Patch Box, and started closing up the wound.

“Well, Simms of the Gally, my name is Doctor Huhuma, and this is Doctor Shaw. You’re our very first patient on this ship, and let me tell you, I wasn’t expecting anything to happen before we left the system, so while I go start the paperwork, Doctor Shaw is going to finish up for me.”

Huhuma handed over the device before walking calmly into her office. Jane wasn’t sure but she thought she heard a long sigh before the door closed, but that could’ve just been the door’s hydraulics.

“I don’t believe she likes me,” Simms said.

“Oh you’re fine, she’s just…settling into the ship, I suppose. So yeah, like she said, I’m Doctor Jane Shaw, and I suppose I’ll be your doctor now, so it’s nice to meet you, though I’m wondering how you got a pipe through your arm.”

“Oh, that.” Apparently it was possible for people with gray skin to blush. They just got a little darker in the cheeks.

“I kinda deserved it. One of the other humans in engineering, Thomas I think, was doing something weird with the drone he picked up, and we thought it’d be funny to prank him.”

“What was he doing?”

“Well it’s a service drone, it shouldn’t even be active right now right? He’s got one of the ones that crawls into maintenance channels and fixes the wiring, and he’s got it playing one of your human’s game things, and he’s just talking to it like a person, for hours!”

“And what did you do?”

“Well, we thought about cabling his shoes to the catwalk but I, uhh, slipped and fell into some exposed pipping.”

“Hence the arm.”

“Yes, hence my arm.”

“So you could say if you hadn’t been being a jerk, this could’ve been avoided. Can’t wait to tell your primary care giver that her crew are idiots and jerks. Leave the guy alone, if he’s not hurting anything then it doesn’t matter.”

“What, do you know the guy? He your friend or something?”

Jane didn’t particularly like the tone of the conversation anymore, but wanted to be professional.

“Never met the guy, but if you keep coming in here for pointless procedures like this, the chances of you getting the wrong doses are gonna get pretty high.”

Professional. Right.

“Look I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend the humans, we’ll leave him alone, okay?” Simms seemed way more afraid than Jane figured he should be, but rolled with it.

“Good. Now, how would you rate your care today?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aside from the rough start, the day in the Med Bay went by relatively easily. Jane met the nurses and other support staff she’d be working with, and they all seemed very nice. A couple of the senior officers came down to introduce themselves to Doctor Huhuma and herself, and the 3 other Indoprime came down to have lunch together in the office, primarily fruits and such. Jane went to the mess hall and enjoyed small talk with a delightful short haired alien that she almost immediately forgot the name of.

It wasn’t until she was coming back to the Med Bay that things took a turn. Rounding the corner, Jane saw the door to Med Bay open and a very suspicious looking Simms the Gally come out, looking both ways down the hall before practically jogging down to the corner and out of sight.

Jane sped up and ducked her head into the clinic. There was a giant string of crop circles on the wall drawn in what looked like an oil paint.

Now, she wasn’t sure when she started sprinting, but before she knew it, Jane was already within 20 yards of Simms the Gally.

“YOU LITTLE FUCKER!”

Simms spun around, eyes wide.

“Oh shit what the fu-”

That was as far as he got before she tackled him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doctor Huhuma watched the door while Doctor Jane Shaw watched the gray alien known as Simms the Gally sponge wash the crop circles off the Med Bay wall.

“So when in this big plan of yours did you think it was a good idea to piss off your doctors?” Jane asked, arms crossed.

“When I thought you’d still be in the mess hall for another 30 seconds.”

“You’re an idiot.”

Huhuma laughed, the sound coming from deep in her chest. Jane smiled at her. It was a good, hearty kind of laugh. It suited her.

“So are you guys gonna tell the captain about this?”

Jane thought for a second, then turned to Huhuma and shrugged.

“Your call boss.”

“I think if you just clean this place up…once a week, till we tell you otherwise, we could keep this to ourselves.”

Simms the Gally groaned, but kept scrubbing.

Jane the human laughed.

Huhuma the Indoprime smiled at her.

Liking the new job so far, Jane thought. This’ll be fun.

[bunnyjesters]

I kinda of ship ragapomni like way way more but I’m curious , what’s the appeal of jaxPomni ?

Why do you like it ?

Hello! Mew here 🌸

They are a very opposites attract type of ship. I want to start with analyzing Jax's character and then Pomni's.

From what we have seen, we know that at least in outward appearance Jax is very much self assured and enjoys picking on other members. He also loves getting a reaction from the group, whether its positive or negative. He doesn't seem all that worried about being trapped and uses whats at his disposle to entertain himself in the meantime. I'm sure at one point he was very very distraught about his situation but nowadays he either honestly doesn't care or has learned to distract himself from the issue at hand.

Internally I think his attitude is a defense mechanism of a couple different issues. The fact that he is trapped and the fact that he's lonely. If you view his character and look at his interactions with everyone. He does not seem to be very close to any particular person in the crew. At least not in any way that could be considered intimate (emotionally) I like to think in his human life he may not have had all that many close friends either despite being relatively intelligent and somewhat charismatic. I think that keeping people at a distance is safe for him and no one in the digital circus either realizes or cares enough to push his boundaries in that area.

Pomni on the other hand does not hide how she feels. She feels things very primally (mostly fear from what we've seen) She is pragmatic and genuine. She desires to be good person but struggles as people do and she is aware of this and unafraid of it. I get the feeling that whether or not she is a good communitcator, she is open about how she feels when she talks and very much direct. (I hc that she is Autistic) We know she does not like to be touched which I believe to be more of a neurodivergent thing rather than something from previous abuse. Although I may change my mind later on that.

As for how she is internals vs externals, in my eyes she is one and the same. She doesn't hide herself as I've stated before.

Now the attraction on Jax's end is that he loves attention, he loves to get a reaction from people and Pomni is very reactive. I think at first there is a dynamic of "hazing" the newcomer that is really just Jax getting a feel for this new addittion and mainting his own sense of control. I think it grows very heavily on Jax's part simply because Pomni is so sincere and she doesn't judge him or make him feel stupid for being open. At first he resents this part of her becuase she doesn't respond to his passive aggression when he's upset about something. She forces him to be clear about what bothers him and even though it's uncomfortable it soothes a piece of him he was likely unaware of. She also has hope for escape and it probably reminds him of himself at one point or another.

Pomni finds comfort in Jax. He's intelligent and entertaining. He has a hidden softness to him that resonates with her strongly but I think at first she may just use him as stress relief. He distracts her from the reality of their situation and gives her enough ease to focus on a plan for escape. I do think she is very fond of him even at the beginning and views him as her closest friend (in the circus) She is also not all that aware of his growing feelings either and some times takes him at face value in what he wants.

~Side note but I think her desire to escape sometimes really hurts Jax. I don't even know if he wants to escape at this point in time.

I imagine this ship to be a strangers to harassment to friends (with benefits) to Jax choking on his one-sidedly feelings and then maybe lovers.

definetly lovers :3

[detectivestucks]

Akatsuki Concubine I

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Tobi x F!Reader x Konan

Summery: Coming from a poor background you were sold to the pleasure house at a young age even though your dream was to one day be a shinobi. Instead, as you grew up, your mistress got tired of your attitude and sold you to the first duo who asked. These two were none other than members of the formidable Akatsuki.

Warnings: NSFW, DubCon, Female receiving oral, threats of violence,

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This is an AU where all the Akatsuki members are alive and together. New mini-series. More parts coming soon.

Sold to the pleasure house at a young age, you were familiar with a life whose path is set for them. You knew you were to serve noble men and their kinks before being sold and married off to the highest bidder. Only you weren’t one to be touched against your will. You had always wanted to become a ninja but you weren’t born into a shinobi family. You were born into a poor family who couldn’t afford to keep their only child. So you read and you practiced, all by yourself. Every day, from the time you were young till now, you centered your chakra, allowing it to flow from point to point. Feeling its life-giving strength fuel your power. You developed what you read was an unusual combination of Fire and Water style jutsus. Your favorite one to use was phoenix flower jutsu. The balls of fire dancing in the space between you and the latest toolbag who tried to touch what he didn’t pay for always made you feel protected. Little did you know it couldn’t protect you from everyone.

Back at the Akatsuki hideout, the crew was getting rowdier than ever. Constant missions had kept everyone apart for months but the burnout was obvious so their leader, Tobi, assigned missions closer to home. The issue is that a band of ruthless shinobi such as the Akatsuki don’t do well within close quarters. 

“Give back my detonating clay!”

“Nice try blondie. I know you were in my room trying to steal Samehada last night. She told me so.”

“Was not!”

“As if I believe you. Maybe I’ll feed this to Samehada, see if she’s as good of an ‘artist’ as you.”

“Wait! I need that for my art!” 

“Psh, you speak of art as if it’s your god. Come to the way of Joshin and you’ll never worry about your silly art again.”

“SHUT IT Hidan!”

“Or what?! Wanna become Joshin’s next sacrifice!”

The purple-haired man swings his scythe at the young artist when the tall shark-like swordsman snatches up the boy by his long blonde strands. 

“Hey! Let go or I’ll-”

“-What, kill me?”

“All three of you need to shut up! When’s our next mission so I don’t have to suffer you idiots?”

“Sasuke, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say to your brethren.”

“Not now, older brother.” he retorts with a pinch to his nose. Soon a half white, half black figure pops into the room.

“Can someone tell me what it’s like to poo?”

“Ah, gross Zetzu! Why’d ya have to bring that up again?!”

“Well, when someone answers the question, maybe I’ll stop.”

“ENOUGH!”

The voice was deep and commanding. An orange-masked man rounds the corner in his scarlet clouded cloak and all members fall silent.

“You are shinobi of an elite organization. Act like it.” 

The man named Tobi strides through the room catching Pain on his way out. 

“Pain, Konan, come.”

A tall orange haired man with a face littered in piercings and a slender woman with a paper flower in her hair follow behind into a spare room. 

“These idiots are always bickering.” Tobi’s baritone states with exhaustion.

“They’re bored sir.”

“I give them respite and they thank me by acting like a bunch of children.”

“Maybe they need something to do…or a way to blow off steam.” Konan defends

“They should be training.” Pain says with a firm nod.

“...or…uh, I…nevermind.”

“Out with it woman.” Tobi’s words spit out like venom.

“Maybe they have…urges…to release?”

“Oh they do, do they?” Tobi presses “Are you speaking from experience?”

With flushed cheeks Konan’s lashes fall.

“That’s what I thought.” Tobi looks towards Pain, “You’re dismissed.”

Both shinobi turn to leave when the deep voice speaks up again, “Where are you going?”

A slender hand raises to tuck lavender strands behind one ear. “You said we were dismissed.”

“No, I said he was dismissed. You haven’t finished serving your purpose.”

With a thick swallow, Konan stands up straight and turns back towards Tobi. “What do you need?” 

With each word he steps forward.“Tell me more about these urges? How do you suggest we satisfy them?”

With one more swallow, Konan finds her composure “I would suggest concubines sir.”

“Concubines, eh?”

“Yes, I believe there are several pleasure houses in the nearby village.”

“Good, I want you to check them out.”

“Check them out?”

“Yes, find some pretty merchandise for your comrades.”

“Don’t you think you should vet them first? You’ve been so picky with who you’ve let into this organization and these girls will be privy to our secrets.”

Tobi muses to himself before agreeing. “We’ll do reconnaissance tomorrow.”

You finish your supper as your lady enters the room. “House is busy tonight. You’re taking the next caller.”

“I’m not putting up with any funny business.”

“Try to be desirable for a change. And stop scaring away the customers.”

“They’re dreadful and disgusting.”

“And pay well”

You scoff at her. “I’ll be in my room.”

“You scare off one more customer and I’m selling you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time!” you call over your shoulder as you walk to your room in a huff. You wish to slam the door as hard as possible but she was right, you could hear your sisters all working. The sounds of men groaning come from every corner of the house and it would be unwise to create a ruckus on such a bustling evening. 

You sit at your looking glass and brush out your hair. You allow it to fall down your back and tickle your neck before you lean forward to apply a small dusting of blush and smear rice water cream over your lips to soften them. Just as you finish, you hear your door begin to open. You look up to a stout man entering your room and raking in your appearance with obvious hunger. You felt your stomach tighten at the thought of entertaining him but you plastered on a sweet simper and move to sit on the mattress, patting the place next to you. 

Meanwhile downstairs Konan approaches your misses.

“Excuse me ma’am. Would you happen to be selling any of your girls?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I am.” Tobi’s tenor voice crashes over the lady as her mouth falls open in fear upon seeing the masked man with the glowing red eye. She realizes her state and quickly closes her mouth while wiping her hands on the front of her dress. “No, I am not selling any of my girls.”

Across the home you hear a man shouting in terror “FIRE! FIRE! HELP THERE’S A FIRE”

“...Except for that one.” she finishes with rage.

Tobi and Konan immediately head towards the shouting to check on the source of the commotion. Upon entering the room they see a beautiful young woman with hair fallen around her face and a disheveled kimono open in the front, exposing both breasts and her pelvis.

“Oh relax” you say, weaving hand signs for your water style cannon to extinguish your phoenix flowers. “Now go, and don’t come back. We don’t need your type around here.”

“Yes we do!” your mistress chimes in, pushing Tobi and Konan to the side to scold you for your behavior.

“No we don’t! He’s a pig! And who the hell are they?!” you say gesturing towards the cloaked shinobi.

“Your next customer”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well that’s too bad cause they intend on purchasing your worthless hide.”

“Like hell they’ll take me.”

You weave the tiger sign to once more scare away these newcomers with your phoenix flower flames only to be met with a ginormous fireball to the face. Quickly you switch your jutsu to water style to combat the masked stranger when he voluntarily stops. 

Your hair falls in your suddenly sweaty face as you gauge the man before you. 

“My, my. Aren’t we a feisty one? And a user of ninjutsu as well. That’s a first.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Well too bad for you because I am. Konan, give the lady the money.”

“Good, take this ungrateful slut off my hands. Maybe you can knock some sense into her. I don’t need my house set ablaze every other day. I’m done.”

You feel your chest constrict with anger and sadness. To be cast aside, demoted to the value of a coin, yet again, and be forced to go to a new home once more. What’s more, is your tricks won't work on this one. He can out master your flames. You give a panicked look to the one with a paper flower atop her head before your teary eyes stare up into the dark hole of the orange mask. 

A gloved hand glides up and cups the bottom of your chin, “Don’t get soft on me now kitten. I enjoy the spark.”

You rip your face away from his hand but he grabs you by the arm. “Konan, test her out for me, please. If you like her we’ll keep her, if you don’t we’ll kill her.”

The sadness in your heart quickly spins to fear as you realize how dangerous your new owner must be. 

“But sir-”

“You said you had pent up urges.”

“I-”

“What? Were you going to ride the face of that Pain puppet? That seems a bit chilly, don’t you think? Why not try someone with a little more body heat?”

The pain and insult were obvious on Konan's face but she did as she was told and approached you. 

With cold and hooded eyes she demands, “Knees.”

You swallow, remembering his words. There was no way out of this one. You were going to have to do what you were trained for and earn your keep…along with your life.

‘You’re the whore; you know what to do” 

Your hands rifle past the noir cloak and find the ties of her pants. You pull the skin tight spandex down past her knees and gently lift her leg to tenderly slide the fabric over her ankle and off her foot.

The pants now removed, your hands hold open the front of her cloak similar to your open kimono. You lift yourself off the heels of your feet and bring your mouth to the front of her cotton panties. You kiss her heat over the cloth before your teeth find the waistband and pull down. 

“Good girl.” you hear the masked man purr from the entrance of the room. 

One hand slides under the thick bamboo fabric of the scarlet and black cloak to graze over her cheek and sink your fingers into the soft flesh of her behind while your other hand wanders up her pale inner thigh, finding her labia and slipping two fingers up into her slit.

Grip tightening on the muscle of her rear, your fingers thrust in and out, hooking inside her squishy insides, feeling how they tighten around your digits. Once she gasps you pull them out and look up at her face before wrapping your lips around your fingers and sucking them clean. The taste was sweet, almost like a baked treat and your lids flutter slightly before she grabs a large section of your hair and pulls you up to your feet.

“Arms folded behind you and lay down on your back.”

You do as she instructs and find her crawling up on the mattress to straddle your face. Her robes fall over your head and you are plunged into darkness, completely blinded by the cloak.

As her weight pushes against your face, you open your mouth to kitten lick at her entrance made wet by your foreplay. 

Just as you open wider to sink your tongue between her lips she reaches back and pinches your nipples earning a cry from you that vibrates against her folds. A satisfied hum can be heard from the place where the masked man stood and you knew he approved.

You jab your tongue out as far as you can and stroke forward inside her heat, slurping up her juices with loud wet sounds. Her hips rut against your face as satisfied signs leave Konan’s chest. You wrap your lips around her little nub at the front of her entrance and rub the tip of your tongue back and forth along the bump. 

Her legs close around your head before suddenly releasing. She repositions herself so that she is facing down your body rather than towards the head of the bed and as she sits back down, your nose prods against the crevice between her cheeks. 

With better access to her swollen bud you seal the perky tip between your pillowy lips and suck. Her thighs squeeze against your body and she weaves hand signs so that two paper butterflies appear and fold into clips. They flutter towards your nipples and you feel their wings brush against your skin before the clip on their bellies opens and traps your sore nipples between them. 

You squirm and whine at the discomfort but really it causes you to clench around nothing. Your legs kick out feeling desperate to get up but your mouth obediently continues to pet her clit. 

Konan lifts her hand and brings it down harshly between your legs, slapping your folds and protruding clit. 

You scream, the vibrations tickling between her legs causing her to lower more of her weight onto your head. Your legs snap closed. “No you don’t.” she says smooth as butter. Grabbing one of your legs in her arms, she holds your leg against her chest and continues her assault on your folds. 

Her rutting against your face as you scream causes the noises to come out muffled and broken which only makes Tobi’s member stiffen in his pants. The spectacle of your squirming beneath his comrade mesmerized him and he knew he wanted you to himself. 

You open your mouth wide to drag your tongue all the way from the hood of her clit, along the front of her entrance and point it as it enters her heat where you dance it in and out of her hole causing her to fall forward and rest her weight on the hand pushing into your waist. 

The butterfly clips attached to the tips of your breasts tightened the more you please the female ninja, who eventually falls all the way forward and returns the favor, sucking on your own swollen nub till your legs shake with pleasure. 

The harder she sucked, the harder you sucked, till you feel her gush on your face and both of you collapse from orgasm. She dismounts, panting from the feeling and nods at her masked counterpart. “This one will do.”

“Well, well, looks like you’re coming with us after all.”

Before you had a moment to realize the meaning of his words you feel yourself being pulled forward and suddenly you are in a dark gray abyss filled with large chunky blocks. You look around realizing it is just you, naked, aside from your small kimono that you pull over your shoulders for comfort. You are standing there alone, all by yourself, with no idea where you are or how you got there.

Masterlist

Coming Soon:

Part 2: The New Master

Part 3: The Uchiha Slut

[aetherdoesthings]

can I request Luffy x reader where something happens and reader threaten luff that she will cry if he makes her do something? Could you also include the others reaction? Thank you 💖

elo anon! when i first read that i was like 'damn that's sad' so then i proceeded to write something very sad :D.

forethoughts: this one's kind of darker than my normal ones. yeah. the tone's just sad. did my heart break when i wrote it? i mean. it feels kinda out of pocket for luffy, but 🤷

notes: do i feel bad? maybe. but sometimes requests are sad. 🤭

[drinking the tears of my readers while deciding if i want to do a part two or not 😁]

Life as a member of the Straw Hat Pirates was never bland. Sometimes you would wake up in the middle of a fight against the marines, or wake up to the sound of Sanji fighting Zoro over something stupid again. Nevertheless, everyday was a new adventure with its own sets of challenges, but nevertheless, you wouldn’t ask for another life.

After all, you were the future King of the Pirates’ girlfriend.

You loved Luffy more than Luffy loved meat, and you stood behind that bold claim. Everyday was filled with adrenaline and anxiety for you, as Luffy would find charging recklessly into battle the best thing to do. He always came out alive; he’s Monkey D. Luffy after all, but you always worried about his health and wellbeing. With enough cuddles and kisses, Luffy would always subdue your worries about him, but it always was a thought in your head that chewed at you. Another thing was that Luffy was a very passionate boy. Sure, he may be an airhead and a bit obtuse at times, but he had his own paradigm of morals he followed, and you respected the hell out of him for that. He always thought about you, considered your feelings, always putting your life in front of his.

He was the most caring person you knew.

He would never do anything to break your heart.

“I’m kicking you out of the Straw Hat Pirates.” 

You stared at him, your heart dropping. Your legs began to wobble, barely able to support your body as you stared at him with a look of disbelief, a hesitant smile on your face.

“W-What are you saying, Luffy? Luffy, this isn’t a funny joke!” You say. Everyone around you began to stir too, once they heard Luffy’s words. All of you were in the galley, just finishing your breakfast.

“You heard me.” Luffy stared at you with the blankest look he’s ever given to you; you didn’t even know he could be that stoic. “I’m kicking you out of the crew. You’ll get off once we reach the next island. Oi, Nami, how long until we reach the next island?”

Nami stood up in disbelief and complete anger, storming towards Luffy as she smacked him on the back of his head, to the point Luffy stumbled and fell onto the ground. “What are you talking about Luffy?! This isn’t a funny joke! You can’t just kick Y/N out!”

Luffy simply stood back up, looking at Nami. “Yes I can. I’m the captain.”

“She’s your girlfriend!” “Oh. Right.” Luffy stared at you. “We’re breaking up too.”

“Luffy!” Nami smacked him again. 

“W-Wha.. W-wha..” You stammered, your legs going wobbly, probably going out if there wasn’t a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 

“Luffy, I don’t think this is the smartest decision to make. Can you explain your thoughts? You cannot simply kick Y/N out for no reason other than ‘I just can.’” Robin said, placing both of her hands on your shoulders, trying to reassure you.

“Yes I can, Robin. I’m the captain.” Luffy stated again.

“That’s not a good reason. By that logic, you can kick any one of us out at any moment simply by your mood.”

Luffy stared at the archaeologist, clenching his teeth. “Shut up, Robin, this is my decision.”

The sound of pans hitting each other silenced the room, turning everyone’s attention to the cook. Sanji stared at Luffy, taking his cigarette out of his mouth. “Oi, Luffy, don’t tell Robin-chan to shut up. You’re being very impolite. And I agree with Robin-chan, you cannot simply do what you want based on your mood. That means all of us are liable to just go at any moment.”

Luffy balled his fists. “Shut up, Sanji! I don’t need to explain myself! I’m the captain! Next island! You’re getting off! If I see you on the ship, I’ll… I’ll…”

Luffy let out a frustrated noise, stomping towards the exit of the galley. Before he could swing the door open and slam it, a single blade with a white handle blocked him. 

“Luffy…” Zoro said, keeping the Wado Ichimonji in between the captain and the door. “If you walk out this door, that means everything Robin and cook says are true. A captain that kicks out his crew members based on his mood. If this is all a joke to you, cut it out. Go apologize to Y/N. If this is not a joke, then you were never fit to be a captain. I don’t care if you’re an airhead and easygoing, but if you decide to kick Y/N out right now because ‘you said so’, the Straw Hats were never meant to be a successful crew.”

Luffy glared at Zoro, his fists and toes clenched. Zoro shot back the same stoic look he always had. While Zoro was calm and still, Luffy looked like a dynamite about to explode. His body was shaking, his skin turning red. It wasn’t Gear 2 level red, quite close.

“Fight me if you want to. You’re only proving my point.” Zoro added.

Silence filled the room. Silence that was so fragile, you were scared that if it broke, everyone would be affected and harmed.

“L-Luffy…” You call out with a shaky voice, taking a hesitant step towards the boy you onced called your lover. Breaking the silent atmosphere caused all eyes to be on you. But with Robin’s hand on your shoulder, she stopped you from moving any further, keeping you close to her body.

“Y/N… please, let us do this.” Robin said. You looked around, and realized she was right. Every Straw Hat looked like they were ready for a fight, or to make some comment about Luffy’s statement.

“N-No.” You brushed Robin’s hand off of your shoulder, taking a bigger step towards the ‘captain’ of the ship.

“Luffy… look at me.” While your entire body was shaking, filled with disbelief, sadness and a tinge of betrayal, your voice was firm.

You watched the captain turn his head around, the straw hat covering his eyes. 

“Is this what you want, Luffy? Do you want to see my heart break? Do you want to see me cry, luffy? because it is, and I will. Is this what you want, luffy? to see your girlfriend cry? Is that what you want?”

No response.

“Fine… fine… this is what you want, isn’t it? You never loved me. You never saw me like I saw you, if you’re so adamant on kicking me out.”

No response.

“Tell me, Luffy, is this what you really want? Tell me, and I'll leave. I'll go, and I won't come back. That's what you want, isn’t it? to never see me again?”

No response.

You scoff at the boy, whose body was shaking, his head hung and fists clenched. You wiped your tears with your arm, staring at the boy you once called your lover.

“Fine. I hope you’re happy, captain.” you brushed your shoulder against him, purposefully making him stumble before storming towards the door. Zoro sheathed his sword, letting out kick the door open and slam it shut.

“Y/N, wait!” Nami cried, running towards the door. Zoro let her pass too, as well as Robin and everyone else who wanted to comfort you. This left Luffy alone with Zoro, all at his mercy.

At the sound of the door finally closing, Luffy collapsed onto the ground, his knees hitting the wooden floorboards as he sobbed. He sobbed and cried, until there was nothing but small hiccups and grunts of frustration.

“Now, do you want to tell me what’s really happening?” the right hand man asked.

“She hates me. She hates me. She hates me.” the captain repeated to himself.

“Luffy.”

The boy took a deep breath, before standing up, meeting Zoro's gaze.

“Alright, i’ll tell you… but don't tell anyone else, okay?”

“Just tell me.”

The captain took a deep breath. “Yesterday…”

[blood-injections]

Thinking about killjoy jackets having meaning, which like, obviously, they're personalized, they're one of the things thats always on you, like your mask or your boots. But the thing is, even if you don't have a crew or anyone to watch your back, you have your jacket to. To quote something I read on here a long time ago that has stuck with me: "They say the Phoenix Witch can’t find you if you die without your mask on. But don’t worry, she knows your boots too. Maybe all that will be left of you is boots and a mask. That’s okay. A mask means that you were someone, a pair of boots means that you went somewhere." A mask shows you were someone, boots mean you went somewhere, and adding to that, a jacket means you stood for something.

I think a killjoy's jacket can tell a story. Look for the wear and tear, the laser burns, the patched-over holes, the parts that have started to fray. That alone can be a life story. Your jacket is wearing your interests and personality literally on your sleeve and being proud to show it, that you're there and you're alive and unique in spite of the world you live in. You wear your heart stretched proudly across your back, your destiny a mantel on your shoulders, and all your friends and all your enemies can see who you are and what you stand for, what you believe in.

There's so many different ways your jacket could come to be Yours. You find one one, make one, personalize it, but I think you could take it a step further, donning a dusted friend's or crew member's jacket is a vow, saying I will avenge you and honor your memory, and that memory, that legacy, that jacket becomes yours over time as your blood and sweat stains it instead, and the holes in it get patched with your colours now. Or maybe your jacket didn't used to belong to a friend, but an enemy. Maybe some killjoys take the jacket of the first scarecrow they stand against, fight and win, as a trophy, as proof to yourself that you're a survivor, you're a killjoy. Its a Fuck You to Better Living, its telling them my legacy with the grave of yours, its taking their sterile white and butchering it, tearing the city down in the form of personalizing your new jacket. Nobody in the desert wears white, but if you see a killjoy that is you'll know instantly its because they've fought and survived, and they're only wearing that white because they haven't had the opportunity to go buy some paint yet.

And then there's making a jacket for someone. A show of trust or devotion or pride above anything else. Its a love letter, a graduation certificate, a medal of honor. If someone's wearing a jacket that was made for them, then they've earned it somehow. It means you're worthy as a killjoy, as a friend. Wearing a jacket that was gifted to you, probably by an older 'joy, or a mentor, a friend, means they're dear to you in some way. You would die with their work, their name on you. It's wearing their heart on your sleeve right beside your own. Gifting a jacket to someone means you want that. It recognizes them as a killjoy, as a part of your story, and you of theirs, now.

A killjoy's jacket is a book, its both your shield and sword, its a legacy, and it can be a gravestone, or a curse, or a promise. Its you.

[acewithapaintbrush]

This is now on Ao3 we well

Shanks has been acting weird ever since he ate that stupid fruit. 

"Are you angry with me?" Luffy asks one day when Shanks once again looks at him 'that way' and the stupid, sticky feeling in his chest just won't go away. 

The pirate blinks and takes a sip of his beer before he answers. The sticky feeling grows bigger. "How is your picture coming along?" 

Luffy scrunches up his nose so his tears won't fall. That's what Makino does when she doesn't want to answer his questions. Ask a question herself so he forgets what he was asking in the first place. But Luffy is smarter now, a big boy, and this is important. He pointedly puts the pencil down and doesn't forget. 

"Is Shanks angry with me 'cause I ate the stupid fruit?" 

Maybe he wasn't so successful about the tears because Shanks lowers his tankard and he gets this serious look on his face, the one he gets when he tells Luffy that the sea is a dangerous place and that he's not ready yet (he is he is he is). 

"No Luffy, I'm not angry." He sighs and seems to look through the little boy for a moment and mumbles under his breath. "A little worried, maybe." 

But Luffy has good ears. "Why?" 

Shanks jolts as if he didn't expect to have been heard. After a second of indecision he grins and ruffles dark hair. "Worried you are gonna eat the hair off of our heads! Why would you eat a fruit anyway? I thought you only liked meat?" 

Luffy shoves his hand away with a huff. He likes it when Shanks ruffles his hair, but he can't let the captain know that 'cause it's just another sign that he's still a little kid.

"I do! But the fruit told me to!" 

Luffy is too busy smoothing down his hair to notice Shanks grow absolutely still beside him. The whole crew, who has had one ear on their conversation this whole time, freezes. Tankards pause midair, conversations break off abruptly, chewing stops. An unnatural quiet falls over the bar. 

Shanks takes a deep breath. He runs a hand over his mouth, tries to gather enough spit to speak. 

"The fruit told you?" he asks, careful, casual. He needn't have bothered. Luffy is already bent over his paper again, drawing himself as a member of Shanks crew, completely oblivious to the tension in the air. 

(the picture will leave the port with Shanks weeks later and he will treasure it for the rest of his life but it will also always remind him of this moment, the moment he finally gets it, the moment it all falls into place, the missing puzzle piece he didn't even know he was missing) 

"Uh huh! The box made a sound, like bump bump bump and when I looked inside the fruit told me to take a bite, told me it would be fun, we would have lots of fun together. But it wasn't fun, it tasted bad." He sticks out his tongue and makes a face. "Super bad. But I guess rubber power is kinda fun. So I'll forgive the stupid fruit for tasting bad." 

Shanks is trying his hardest to breathe. He can feel Beck come up behind him, can feel him put a hand on his shoulder. The hand is shaking. "Kid, what-" 

"It was dark in that box." Luffy says. He sounds absent, his voice flat and distracted. His red pencil moves over the paper in a slow, meticulous manner, as if on auto pilot. Shanks can't shake the feeling that they aren't really talking to Luffy anymore. Or at least not only Luffy. 

"It was dark and you can't be free in the dark, you can't bring freedom in the dark. You need a light. You need the sun. There is a lot of sun on the seas, even in dark places. So we are gonna sail the seas and be free. And we're gonna have so much fun." 

Beck is crushing his shoulder, the whole crew is holding its breath. This feels like something sacred, like a moment in time that will never come again, a conversation that could change your whole life.

Roger would know what to say. 

Roger would laugh and know exactly what to say. 

Shanks feels like crying. He has no idea what to say.

"I-" 

The tip of the red pencil breaks off and Luffy flinches the slightest bit. He blinks at the paper as if he's seeing it for the first time before he grins and holds it up for Shanks and the others to see. 

"It's done! Do you like it?" 

Shanks isn't really looking at the drawing. All he sees is that boy and that grin and those eyes, bright and alive. 

"Joyboy." 

Luffy tilts his head. "What?" 

Shanks puts a hand over his heart and tells it to stop beating so hard, tells his voice to stop shaking. "You are truly a joy, my boy." 

It's a weird thing to say, nothing he's ever told Luffy before. But the kid beams and leans forwards as if Shanks has just offered him the world on a silver platter. 

(You have, haven't you? The world in a box.) 

"Does that mean you'll take me with you?" 

Shanks laughs and it sounds normal, it sounds familiar again. He pokes a small forehead and grins. 

"Nope. You are not ready yet." 

'But you will be,' he thinks as Luffy pouts and the rest of the crew tease him. 'One day you will be ready. And just maybe the rest of the world will be ready for you as well.' 

[lutorao]

bodyguards

Zoro, Law , Luffy

Chapter 1027 : "Defend Luffy!" made to do this analysis

in the 2 episodes Zoro appears, and we know how things unfold later, but that's not what I'm going to talk about right now

why Zoro and Law?! I'll explain that for sure

Zoro is the only member of the crew , I mean the only member why Luffy came to the marines. he didn't meet him by chance, Luffy didn't find Zoro by chance, as soon as he heard his name, he immediately decided that he had to find this person, which is not really the case with other crew, whom he met by chance and then saved them

call me fool if you want but luffy's voice makes me believe that he was flirting a little bit isn't he?!

like look at him :xDD

many people saying that Usopp is his best friend, yeah i agree he is one of the closest friend, but let's don't forget that Zoro was the reason why luffy didn't came to Usopp in water 7 after his "betrayal" (was it betrayal or not it's up to your opinion)

Zoro is the only member from the crew that luffy really listens to and agrees without hesitation

Zoro is the only person who can stop Luffy and change his mind ( and we have a lot of examples)

Zoro is the person luffy trust most

like he fell asleep in the middle of the war, even though the two Yonko were fighting he still fell asleep because he knew for sure that no matter what happened Zoro would protect him

Before that, Zoro did the same

The trust of these two towards each other is on a different level

Also Zoro was the only person on his team that Luffy had a blush on, have you ever seen Luffy so eager to see someone else from his crew :xD

i think we don't have to talking about Zoro's loyalty but what about Law's

he mentioned he wasn't going to betray luffy so didn't

i said before that luffy only listens to Zoro right?!

but there was one moment when he listened to Nami

it happened in Dressrosa , when Doffy shot law and kidnapped him , and Nami said that Law sacrificed himself In order to maintain the leverage they had against Doffy, they needed to believe in Law's plan to go to Zou so that his sacrifice would not be in vain (Later I will also analyze Dressrosa, there will be much more to talk about)

and luffy listened

reason: Law ✨

Luffy's relationship with Law is very different from Zoro's, I think Zoro and Luffy's duo was formed as best friends,like partners in crime , "If you kill someone, I will bury the body " something like that

But towards Law he feels a different responsibility, law is not a member of his crew, he is not someone who "owes" him loyalty or to protect his life but he did

<<How much Luffy tried to get Law's attention or whether law would like him is another story (if you are interested, see its analysis here https://www.tumblr.com/l-in-the-light/760201641742008320/the-most-embarrassing-series-of-posts-about-lawlu?source=share ) >>>

When Luffy fights Kaido and loses, law was worrying and about what? what are you thinking ? on the plan ?! obviously , but also:

I repeat this many times in my posts and I will also say that the relationship between these two idiots is much calmer in Wano, no matter how funny law looks when he is angry with Luffy , when he is in front of him he just can't do anything

he is like "babe are you okay?"

yes law no one can deny luffy's cuteness and as long as your weakness is cute things 🥱 you are one of them , i m sure he repeats himself "stop being cute" when he sees luffy or "stop smile at me like that" ,"stop look at me with those big eyes"

I want to remember one moment when Kidd says to Law "Congratulations you finally became Mugiwara's subordinate"

"FINALLY"???? umm

When Luffy falls asleep in the middle of the war and Killer starts laughing and asks Law what he thinks about Luffy, law says that they only have an alliance and nothing else

law's thoughts: first of all, I won't bother to explain anything to you, and secondly, if I told you right here and now that we are dating and he is with me , this crazy overprotective swordsman will cut me to pieces here, no thank you 🙂‍↔️

so i swear those two knows something , even Killer and Kid noticed

c'mon seriously, It was so obvious that even Kidd and Killer noticed

And here is episode 1027 when Law and Zoro try to protect Luffy from Kaido, two swordsman , two extremely attractive swordsman try to protect Luffy and are ready to die

I'm even a little jealous of Luffy if these two man tried so hard to protect me hmm i don't mind honestly

Law: don't talk to me with this soft voice, what are you about babe , of course i am ready to die along with you

[usopps-devotee]

can you PLEASE write some fluff/comfort for your angst Luffy writing? 😫 i wanna give him forehead kisses and cuddles PLEASE

(it was amazing btw!!!)

Anon I know what you asked for but imma make this a series and giving this to yall next time, but life has been interesting (derogatory) since the beginning of February 😋

Pt 1 not your fault

Tags: angst, hurt/comfort, like one mention of blood, no harm tho its used as an expression, please know it's okay to ask for help sometimes, mention of skipping meal.

Wc 1.3k

It's been some time since you found him crying, the only immediately noticeable change is Luffy seems to be more aware of you and touch you than before. Maybe that's why he noticed your disappearance today. The reason why he's noticed every flinch within the last week, the tears that started to well up but didn't fall when you dropped a teacup, trying your best to laugh it off as Sanji and robin assured you it was okay. The moment of deep breaths after any loud sounds, Luffy swears he saw your soul leave your body when Usopp and Franky started to try something new with Sunny's cannon. Zoro was there to notice the last one too joking about you being jumpy, your captain surely noticed you becoming quieter after that moment.

So when he walked into your room without knocking, he didn't mind being hit in the face with the pillow you threw. Not knowing or caring who it might have been, only focused on the darkness of being hidden under the covers. You heard his footsteps come closer as he tried to figure out where your head was. When it was located he sat down and pulled you into his lap. Not bothered to move the plush fortress you are surrounded in. Being so close to him helped, your body relaxed at the contact, not knowing how much you may have needed the connection.

"You missed breakfast, Sanji said you missed dinner as well." 

Knowing this isn't exactly about the missed meals, while he is worried about that, it's more so the fact that you haven't left your room. Being one of, if not the most, cuddly members of the crew seeing you spend so much time alone was jarring to him. After all, if Luffy had a problem he came to you. So why couldn't you do the same, was he the problem? Is someone else on the ship? What could be disturbing you so much?

The worst part is if you were honest, you didn't have a clue. You had just been feeling wrong, completely off without reason. Now that your captain has found you alone and distressed, it only makes the tangles and knots in your gut feel worse. Guilt plagued you as you didn't have to see his face to know that his wide eyes had been staring down at you for any movement, for any symptom that you could be getting better or worse. For any kind of response really, he just hopes it's not more remorse. When he does finally feel you move it's a good 30 seconds of trying to get one hand out of the blanket before you're tugging him closer. There's the feeling of his arms wrapping around your body as his heartbeat can now be heard through the thick blanket. You're not sure how much it helped but it definitely helped the tears stuck in your eyes finally fall.

You feel yourself starting to shake as a voice in the back of your head tells you you're being dramatic. You have no clue what started this ache, with him here you can't push it down till it goes away like you were trying to do. It bubbles up and slowly consumed you, not able to pinpoint whatever emotion this is all you can focus on is how overstimulating everything is. You can't concentrate on his heartbeat anymore, you can hardly breathe. Choking on the first sob before you feel it come up. There's nothing to hide, you're mental state is as scattered as paint across a floor. Desperate for something, anything, to ground you. Luckily luffy is still there, peeling the covers off from over your head, you're too trapped in it to notice that most of the movement isn't coming from you.

He's worried about you hyperventilating, the last thing he wants is for you to pass out at a time like this. You haven't even told him what's wrong yet. You helped him with him and he wants to do the same, he wants to solve it if he can. He made sure to take things slowly, not rushing to any conclusions, just being there in the moment. Seeing your face filled with tears made him want to jump into action. There has to be something he can do to get them to stop. All he could think to do was hold you close, going as far as to place the shank's hat on your head to see if that would help. Everything only made you sob harder.

The hand thought placed on his chest now balled into a fist gripping his shirt for dear life, the other wrapped around his shoulders so you buried your face in his neck. It's highly plausible the rest of the crew can hear your despair, as your captain Luffy would make sure you are not teased for this, just as he put Zoro through a mini hell for laughing at you days before. He wants to treasure you, you're the only one who lets him feel human, let him feel and express instead of hiding behind his smile. He's so lost in his thoughts he almost missed you speak.

"Thank you."

It's hushed and horse, no surprise as all you've done today is sleep and cry. But it's the only thing you can think to say. To your surprise, those two little words shocked Luffy. Why are you thanking him? He hasn't done anything yet? Were you just overwhelmed? Now he's just as lost in your emotions as you are. He really doesn't want to rush, nor does he know how to ask. Confusion is written across his face, he does reach one conclusion. Touch helps, he helped him, it was helping you, so what had you done that night that when you comforted him? He's brought back to the kiss you placed on his forehead, full of warmth and comfort, maybe the same would work for you.

Sheer embarrassment, terror, and panic flooded through your system as Luffy tiled your chin up towards his face. Causing more tears to well up and fall but he kisses them all away. Starting from where they would gather and fall off your chin he worked his way up one side of your face, kissing all the tears he could see and then the corner of your eye before moving to the other one. For the first time in days you smile, you smile, it's not faked, forced, or caused by nervousness. None of it, it's a real, genuine smile. It makes Luffy beam from ear to ear as he now sprinkled kisses anywhere he could reach. It makes you laugh, he's never been happier to hear the sound of your laughter. He'd kiss you forever if it meant you'd never be sad again. But he still had that nagging question in his gut.

"What made you cry in the first place?" He almost reconsidered the question when the smile immediately dropped from your face. Maybe he should have asked another day or basked in it a bit longer. "I- I don't know, I just- everything feels so-" Wrong, out of order, discombobulated. Like your heart has been thrown against a wall just to see the blood splattered. There's definitely a strong emotion behind this all but you're struggling to articulate it. Whatever it might be. "It's fine if you don't know, just tell me how to help, okay?" You nodded thinking, trying to get your mind out of the dark place that it currently resides in. The only thing that has helped so hard was him, his voice, his arms, the sound of his heart beating, his smell, his kisses, everything about Luffy rang with comfort there was nothing else you could want or need but him.

"Please just don't let me go."

[anonymous-dentist]

something a little more creepy or scary🫣, i’m thinking imposter syndrome??

Omg an Imposter Syndrome reference in 2024…

-

Once upon a time, Roier thought he was the last living member of his species. The Federation wiped everyone on his planet out; Roier and his brother escaped with their lives, but Doied didn’t make it past an emergency medical checkpoint on their way to Earth.

Now, Roier is on a Federation ship heading towards yet another planet they’re planning on colonizing. He’s been sabotaging their missions for years, ever since he was old enough to serve on a ship, and this mission is no exception.

But:

Cellbit flinches as his jaw splits in half for the millionth time in the past half hour. He forces it shut with his hands and mutters an apology in a language that Roier can barely remember.

Roier just sighs and smiles and reaches across the table to pat Cellbit’s hand.

“It’s just us, gatinho,” he assured him. “Don’t worry, okay?”

Cellbit nods, but he doesn’t look convinced, and Roier wants someone dead.

Once upon a time, Roier thought he was alone. But now he has Cellbit, and he’s going to make sure that he gets to keep Cellbit.

In front of them is a small dinner set up in Cellbit’s cabin. There’s wine, of course, and there is a severed head. Its eyeballs are in their individual wine glasses, one each, like olives in martinis.

Roier thinks his name was Tubbo. Maybe. Doesn’t matter now. He tastes good, and Cellbit smiled biting into his kidney, and that’s all Roier cares about.

The crew is going to find Tubbo’s (headless) skeleton and what remains of his muscles soon enough. His suit, too, as bloodstained and ripped as it is. They were messy, but… so what? Roier left one of Tina’s earrings at the scene, and he can give Cellbit an alibi.

Quietly, Cellbit says, “We have an alibi.”

Roier nods.

“We were having sex,” Cellbit continues.

Roier laughs so hard his face splits and his tentacle comes tumbling out of his “mouth”. Once, Cellbit turned red at the thought. Now, Roier knows that he’s as asexual as they come, so Cellbit can make all the inappropriate jokes he wants, and it’ll always be funny.

Cellbit smiles too wide, waaay too wide, and Roier doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more beautiful man in his life. He never wants to stop seeing this smile. He’ll kill anyone who tries taking it away from him.

That is a guarantee.

[eemcintyre]

Wicked Game (Terry Silver)

TW- bondage, sadism/masochism, crying, dacryphilia if you squint, denial, control, overstimulation, humiliation, gagging, power exchange/imbalance, allusions to objectification/human furniture, hurting oneself for another’s pleasure; reader is inexperienced/a virgin, age gap, sub drop.

Summary- Terry Silver takes an interest in one of his adult students; an innocent and inexperienced girl with an obvious crush on him. After they start a relationship, he invites her to explore her interests in power exchange and sadomasochism.

IT'S FINE OK EVERYTHING'S FINE I'M FINE. Anyway this one goes out to all the TIG sluts like me and please be kind because I'm beiNG VERY VULNERABLE RIGHT NOW xoxo please and thank you

It was thoroughly unusual to see the Cobra Kai dojo so quiet. Normally, as the most popular dojo in the Valley since the resurged interest in karate, the building hummed with activity from its large number of youth and adult students. But this afternoon, the only people in sight were a few members of what appeared to be a cleaning crew.

Thinking about it further, Y/N realized it made more sense- it was just the start of a new school year, so the younger students were probably busy acclimating to their classes and the adults with such children were just as busy taking care of them. The next tournament also wouldn’t take place for months. Y/N decided that she was thankful for the quiet, as she had begun to worry about the number of people who witnessed her frequenting Sensei Silver’s office and what they might start to think about why that was. Especially because, if their wondering led them to more scandalous lines of thinking, they wouldn’t be wrong.

She made her way past the cleaning crew, trying her best not to undo their progress on the floors as she made her way to the opposite end of the spacious main room, toward the entrance to a stairway. She knew this flight of stairs well, having traveled up the steps many times over the last few months- the dark grey corridor, dimly lit by cool fluorescent lights, would be an ominous and mysterious tunnel, did it not lead to the thrill of Terry Silver’s personal attention.

From the moment Y/N had joined the dojo’s adult class, Terry had taken a special interest in her training, engaging in what seemed to be more one-on-one teaching than he gave to his other students. He also took an interest in her personal life, asking about what she did outside of their classes and checking in with her anytime she seemed to be having an off day. And while Y/N kept it within her innermost thoughts, she wouldn’t lie to herself that she did enjoy the special attentiveness. While the chances of it leading anywhere were slim to none, she’d been pining for Silver from afar since the beginning.

It wasn’t just something, it was everything about him- the fact that he was so much older than her; learned, well-rounded and traveled and still able to move like he was in his prime. The long, soft-looking curls of hair in his unique, trademark ponytail and the frosty blue eyes that she could feel in her knees. The smallest bit of praise on her technique or obedience to his commands would give her butterflies for the rest of the day. It had all earned him a starring role in the imagery of her night and day-dreams.

As someone who had dated very few people in life thus far, let alone ever had sex, these dreams were ones she’d never had about anyone else and didn’t fully understand. While observing his demonstrations to the class of various moves, Y/N found herself imagining, even wishing for that carefully cultivated and controlled strength to be directed toward her. He seemed to relish the thought of inflicting pain on his enemies, and she found it exciting to imagine him experiencing that same relish because of her. But the idea that she might want someone to hurt her was totally foreign, and trying to sort out the feelings left her confused and disgusted. She didn’t know much about that sort of lifestyle, but she knew that it was generally frowned upon as gross and unnatural. Thus, rather than explore it deeper, she tucked the matter deep inside and tried not to analyze it, merely shyly enjoying the thrill.  

As well as she believed herself to be hiding this array of conflicting feelings, Terry could see right through and, as a result, was taken with the need to possess and deflower her innocent, unsuspecting sweetness. The idea that this reserved, weak little thing had so obviously never been touched, or really romantically pursued by anyone before, but was head over heels for him, who at this point had seen and done it all, was downright intoxicating. Every time he caught her staring at him and she quickly looked away, cheeks flushed and hands fumbling, he felt drunk with power and arousal. Thankfully his gi was long enough to cover what she did to him until he could take care of it. 

One evening's particularly challenging session of board breaking had left Y/N with a bloodied hand full of cuts and splinters. After the rest of the students filtered out of the building, post-attending to their own wounds, Sensei Silver took it upon himself to bandage her hand.

As they sat in closer proximity than ever before, her hand firmly clasped by his own in order to wrap it, she’d expressed how embarrassed and disappointed she was to have torn up her hand so badly without managing to break even a single board. Expecting a lecture from her strict teacher, she was shocked when he, while holding a steady, scrutinizing gaze, replied:

“I’m quite pleased with how hard you worked today. Board breaking doesn’t happen overnight; you have to toughen up your hand first.”

He emphasized his words with a light shake of her wrist as he finished his bandaging work. She managed a small, slightly comforted smile, but found herself unable to return the intense eye contact, glancing down at her knees.

“So, why did you do that?” he asked, finally breaking the heavy silence.

“What?” She stared, disoriented, noticing that he hadn’t yet let go of her hand even though he’d finished tending to it.

“If you didn’t realize that what you did today was part of strengthening your hand, then why did you push yourself to the point of bleeding? There were plenty of other students who knew the purpose of what they were doing and still didn’t push themselves that hard. Why?”

The only answer she could give didn’t entirely make sense to her, and yet she knew it was true nonetheless.

“I guess… I wanted to please you, Sensei, by trying as hard as I could. You always say that fear, pain, and defeat don’t exist in this dojo, and I would have felt like I was giving in to those things and letting you down if I didn’t keep going. I was just trying to do what you told me.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you willingly hurt yourself because you thought it would please me?”

She found herself increasingly distracted by his prolonged, firm grip on her hand, although she didn’t try to extricate herself. She reddened, dizziness and heat twinging and twisting in her stomach. It was such an odd way for him to describe it, and yet it wasn’t untrue.

“I… I guess you could say that… maybe. I don’t know…”

He backed off of the subject after that, not wanting to alienate her by pushing too far and too fast. She was going to require a delicate approach.

But over the following weeks he made it clear that he was just as interested in her as she was in him, and she came to the realization that dating him might not be as remote of a possibility as she’d thought. When he finally proposed the idea of going out, she was hesitant. Not only had her small number of previous partners never included someone so much older, who was so intense and intimidating and also an authority figure in her life, but she didn’t want to ruin the good thing she had going with her Cobra Kai lessons if things didn’t work out between them. But she had taken so few chances in her life, and she decided it would be stupid to pass the opportunity up just because she was scared. This was the dojo where fear did not exist, after all.

They ended up going out for dinner one evening soon after and having a wonderful time, and then one wonderful time quickly led to another and another. Though the time that had passed was short in comparison to how slow she usually moved, they were getting more serious with each other than anyone Y/N had ever dated. But, in addition, she noted that something felt off, like it was lying unaddressed, simmering below the surface.

One night, while at his place after the day’s karate class, Terry was eager to experiment by testing her reactions to the subject of mixing pain and pleasure once again.

As the two of them were making out on the sofa in his study, he dug his thumb into a bruise she’d incurred during a sparring session. She shocked herself when she groaned into the kiss, half in pain and half to express the strange way it warmed her stomach and made her throb. She glanced up at him in alarm and he smirked triumphantly.

“That feel good?” he asked, and she froze. “Like it felt good splitting your hand open on those boards?”

“No…” He quirked an eyebrow at her skeptically, knowingly, warning her to tell the truth. “Yes… I don’t know.” She squirmed as he remained unmoving, unblinking.

“It’s alright, you know. Everyone feels conflicted about it at first, but lots of people are aroused by pain, obedience, deferring control to someone else.” She opened her mouth but couldn’t force any words out. He continued. “Do you want to submit to me? Wouldn’t it feel good to be protected, and cared for in every conceivable way; for someone else to make the decisions? You seem to long for it, and I can provide it.”

“I-I don’t know how- what all is involved…”  

“Well, I’m a teacher; I can teach you. If you’re curious, we can explore that side of yourself- together.” When she made no reply, he spoke to one of the fears he knew was gnawing at her. “No one but us would know. The risk is minimal- either you’ll realize it’s not the right fit for you, or you might feel more fulfilled than you ever have in your life.”

She couldn’t argue with his logic. And, so far, the chances she’d taken with Terry had paid off. What was another one? 

~

“Sensei,” she uttered the title loudly enough for him to hear, but softly enough to not disturb him if he was working on something important.

“Y/N,” he immediately looked away up the contents of his desk to her before flicking his wrist to glance at his watch. “Good, you’re right on time.”

It was thirty minutes before the start of the evening’s karate class, as he’d requested a couple of days before. He wouldn’t say why but did assure her that nothing was wrong. From the way he’d acted when making the arrangement, she figured that it was another invitation to explore their new dynamic, in which case she was still extremely nervous, but in an excited sort of manner, still self-conscious of her body and everything she wanted him to do to it.

For her very first foray into the practice, he’d suggested that, since she liked serving and following orders so much, she should assist him at his home office by holding and carrying papers and anything else he needed, including even making and bringing him drinks. The second time, he’d used her as a footstool while he read a book. Once, he had forbidden her to speak at all during a class, and most recently, they’d made out while her hands were tied. And he had been right- she was a natural. Relinquishing control to him was somehow incredibly exhilarating and a massive relief at the same time.

As Y/N approached his desk, he also rose from his chair, meeting her just in front of the desk and leaning languidly against it. He didn’t say anything else, wanting to study her expression as he maintained the silence. Shifting her weight from side to side, a weak smile twitching at her lips, he could tell that she was burning with curiosity and nervousness while trying to appear still casual and playful.  

“Why the early meeting?” she asked, not wanting to be assumptive if it was not, in fact, for romantic purposes. “And why here? Class starts before too long…” Her eyes flitted anxiously from his daunting form to the discomfortingly quiet room around them.

“Oh, this won’t interfere with class. I have something special for you in mind today. A different training session that I think is going to do you a lot better.” He intruded even closer into her personal space, reaching to grip her shoulders, and she looked up to meet his gaze, her heart thudding as she was enveloped by the scent of his cologne. “Instead of being with the other students today, I have a solo practice for you.”

“Okay,” she murmured, half in agreement and half as a question.

“Come here.” He was intent on preserving the feeling of mystery and anticipation. Taking her hand, he led her to a door off to their side.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere you won’t disrupt the rest of the class.”

“What will I be doing? What is this?” Y/N laughed softly, trying to break the tension as her hands became damp with sweat, but he wouldn’t grant her any reprieve and clue her in. He just opened the door, revealing a small closet. While it also housed shelves of miscellaneous office supplies, her attention was primarily drawn to the center of the space, where a chair was positioned, a black duffel bag placed at its side.

“Sit down,” he ordered, and she proceeded shakily to take a seat in the chair, hands folded tightly together in her lap. While he still stood near the doorway of the closet, pacing, he continued speaking:

“This is a test of endurance. Not only will it help you with your Cobra Kai training, but it’s going to help you outside of that as well.”

Finally, he unzipped the mysterious duffel bag, and her mouth went dry when he pulled out several strands of rope.

“Ah, ah… just relax,” he instructed as she began to fidget uncomfortably in the chair, like she was about to get up. Stepping behind her, rope in one hand, he used his other free one to place a steadying touch on her shoulder.

“Do you remember your safeword?” he asked calmly. If Y/N was truly uncomfortable, he always made it clear that she should use it, as trust and safety were to be at the core of such a dynamic. Especially if he wanted to continue in his delicate approach to shaping her into his dearest little slut. She nodded, making a visible but not entirely successful effort to relax into the chair and his touch.

“This is for your own good,” he noted, beginning to loop the rope around her shoulders and arms, as well as her wrists, securing her upper half to the backboard of the chair. “Although I won’t deny that I enjoy seeing you like this.”

Moving to kneel in front of her, he joined her legs to the front two chair legs, spreading them slightly apart as she, torn between obedience and panic, squirmed feebly in the chair. She continued to sputter frantic nonsense phrases and he noted that her eyes were starting to water as he double-checked the secureness of the binds. Tight enough to contain her and give a slight burn, but not enough to bruise. Perfect for her first of such an experience.  

He removed another item from the duffel bag and Y/N let out a soft whine, her shaking growing more intense at the sight of a vibrator wand.

“Darling, I need you to focus.” He said firmly, using the last piece of rope to attach the vibrator to the chair, situated between her parted legs, snug against her clit over her underwear. His cock twitched in his pants when he saw that there was already a wet spot.

“You’re going to sit with this vibrator on your cunt while the rest of us are having class downstairs. You will not come.”

She began to let out an alarmed cry, a tear escaping down the side of her face, and Terry was reminded of the final touch needed to complete her 'look.'

“Oh, that’s right…”

He rifled through the bag for the last of the needed items, revealing a ball gag. That’s when Y/N really started to struggle against the ropes, but by then there was no point. As tears began to slide down her face at an increasing rate, she recoiled when he bent to lick them from her cheek. She was so incredibly disgusted with herself for how turned-on she felt in such a humiliating moment; the mix of emotions was so overwhelming that she wanted to run away somewhere and hide. 

“Wait!” she exclaimed as he held up the gag, about to fasten it behind her head, and, just in case she was about to safeword, he paused. “But h-how… I don’t think I can. What if someone comes in?”

“No one’s going to come in- they won’t hear you if you’re gagged, and I’ll have you safely locked inside with the lights off,” he smirked.

“I’m scared,” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “I feel so strange, and good, and gross and I don’t know what to think or do…”

“See, that’s why this is exactly what you need,” Terry replied knowingly, stroking the side of her head. “Don’t try to analyze everything right away. I need you to trust that you’re safe to leave all that to me- for at least a little while. You don’t have to see the bondage as limiting you. While your body is restrained, you can concentrate on your mind- but not for thinking and analyzing. The restraints are giving you the freedom to let go. Let go of your control and all of your worries. Your only responsibility is to do what I’ve asked you to do; to please me.”

“But isn’t that like being defeated?” she asked, recalling how defeat did not exist in Terry’s rulebook for life.

“Not at all. Not when you do it willingly and intentionally,” he replied simply, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

Finally, she stilled, studying him thoughtfully through her glassy eyes. She was already so lovely like this; he could hardly imagine how beautiful she would be once he’d thoroughly exhausted her and erased every anxious, doubtful thought from her head. When several seconds stretched without her protesting further, he moved again to place the gag in her mouth. He was pleased when she parted her lips obediently. 

“I need you to be strong for me. However, if you reach the point where you need to safeword, you have this…” He pulled a small button device from his pocket, nestling it in her tied fist. “It’s good to challenge yourself, and I believe you can handle it. But I can’t have my little fighter taking on too much and really hurting herself, physically or emotionally. Good girls challenge themselves and try their best, but they also need to take care of themselves so they can fight the next day.”

He paused, leaning into her close enough for their faces to almost touch. His tone and expression were grave. “You press this and I will end class immediately and come up here to get you. Understood? Understood?”

She nodded and he took this as his go-ahead to turn on the vibrator. Though it was only on a medium setting, she immediately tensed back up and bucked her hips against the tip.

“Baby, you need to pace yourself,” he chuckled, placing his hands on her hips to still her. She whimpered softly, overwhelmed by how embarrassed and powerless she felt. 

“Now, just focus on the movement and rhythm of the vibrations for me. Nothing else exists. Pain, fear, defeat, your job, other people… It’s just you denying yourself for me. Just allow yourself to float in the delicious in-between state of pleasure and pain, of tension and relaxation, and let me do the thinking.”

In an admittedly devious move, he placed a firm, hot kiss to her neck before getting up, drawing another oh-so sweet muffled and tormented whine from her throat that made his cock leak.

The lock clicked on the door behind him, leaving Y/N to the total darkness and the longest hour and a half of her life.

The hardest part definitely wasn’t not to think- very quickly, she found it almost impossible to think of anything else except the unrelenting pulses of vibration against her clit. Terry hadn’t specified what would happen if she failed to stop herself from coming, but she figured that there would be some sort of punishment and preferred not to find out what exactly it would be. As she clenched around nothing, she could already feel slick absolutely gushing from her pussy onto the seat under her. It was almost a gift that the uncomfortable feeling of the spit that had started dripping down her chin provided some distraction.

Y/N wondered just how ruined her shirt would be by the end of this, and about having to walk out of the dojo probably looking a sight, but this thought evaporated as she felt a new, more intense pressure building in the pit of her stomach. All of the sudden, the intensity of the pleasure had her fighting with all of her resolve not to come, eyes twisted shut, struggling to pull her hips even a millimeter away from the head of the wand. Just as she thought she might fail, a drop of sweat fell into her eye, jolting her more firmly into focus again.

She wanted more than anything to please him, to be a good student and do him proud; put that beautiful smile on his face and be the reason for it. She also wanted to prove to herself that she had the strength and self-control to fulfill what had been asked of her and what she now asked of herself.

Initially, Y/N had been able to roughly estimate how long she had been left, but eventually she lost all track of time. Upon reaching that point, she finally fully allowed her thoughts to drain away like the slick that coated her underwear and the chair beneath her, giving up all wondering when Terry might return and letting go of the worry she had about how she might look by the time he arrived. All that mattered was that she was not allowed to come.

When she finally heard the click of the door’s lock again, she was pulled from her haze by the light that sliced into the complete darkness of the closet, making her squint. Eventually she managed to focus in on Terry, her eyes filling with tears. The man who was both her challenger and protector, assailant and healer, whom she’d made herself so mentally and physically vulnerable for, was here to rescue and tend to her.

The sight that greeted Terry was nothing short of divine. His angel was drenched in sweat, saliva, and slick, and apart from the occasional twitch against the vibrator, had given up struggling and appeared to have little, if any, coherent thought. When her blank gaze finally fully readjusted to the light, he grinned down at her.

“Everyone is gone now; the dojo is closed.” He gave her a moment to process what he had said, crouching before her to fully appreciate how mussed-up and flushed she looked, inhaling the heady scent of her perfume combined with the smell of sex and the warmth radiating off of her.

“Did you come?” he asked, not yet turning off the vibrator. Her head lolled back and forth in an attempt at a shaking motion.

“Good.” He said in a nonchalant tone that, despite her not thinking it was possible, made her more turned on. It was as if they were discussing traffic or the weather. He studied the darkened crotch of her underwear: “Mm, you’ve really soaked through your panties, though. You must be enjoying this even more than I thought.”

Her stomach dropped as the vibrator continued to run and he fixed her with a mischievous look.

“In that case, since you’ve been doing so well for me, I guess I can let you stay here a while longer. I have plenty of other things I can do. How does that sound, darling?” This time Y/N shook her head more frantically, trying to say ‘no’ through the gag. He pretended not to understand her, even though it was intelligible enough.

“What was that, baby? Oh, you’re welcome.” He got up and headed toward the door once more, noting that she still refused to safeword as he closed and locked her in again.

Y/N had never felt so helpless in that moment, consumed by the darkness again and the now seemingly endless torture of the wand’s rhythmic vibrations. She tightened her grip on the button in her fist, knowing that she could end it all at any time, but did not press it. She was determined to last it out until he decided that she was done. After all, she’d made it this far, right?

In that moment, something about the helplessness and the increasingly hazy mental state she was plummeting into became freeing. He had all of the power and that was okay. It meant that she wasn’t responsible for anything except the one thing he’d asked her to do. Nothing else mattered. He really was helping her; this was good for her, to have no expectations or concerns; to humble herself by fulfilling demands rather than making them and be patient to accept what she was given. 

Just as she had reached this stage of tenuous acceptance, she was surprised and confused when the door slid open after what couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Terry entered with a glass of water, a towel, and first aid supplies in his hands.

“Sweetheart, I’m joking,” he laughed softly, bending down at her feet to set down everything he was carrying. “But you did so, so well for me.” Finally, he removed the gag from her sore jaw, the ball pulling strands of saliva with it. She gasped from the soreness as well as the relief.

“Just come for me now and we’ll be done,” he said, switching the vibrator to the highest setting and controlling its position with his hand instead of the rope, leaning in close for her to rest her head on his shoulder. “Let it all out for me...”

Within moments, he felt her shake as violently as the restraints would allow, warm and sticky come coating the tip of the vibrator through her panties.

“Aahhh…! Thank you! Thank you, Sensei…” she cried in his ear through strangled moans that gradually decreased in volume as she rode out the aftershocks of her orgasm. Her invocation of his title made his cock jerk, and he bit back a growl. As the most intense climax she’d ever experienced faded, mixing with the feelings of confusion, disgust, and submission, she burst into tears. It was complete sensory overload.  

“Shh, it’s okay. You can cry if you need to,” Terry crooned as she clung to him. He cradled the back of her neck with one hand while starting to untie her with the other. Once she was entirely free and her sobs subsided a bit, he reached for the glass of water and raised it to her lips.

“Drink this- I don’t want you dehydrated,” he said as she sipped from the cold glass, staring at him with blissed-out, puffy eyes. Once she’d had enough to drink, she sucked in a shaky breath and collapsed into his arms.

“I’m so proud of you, angel,” he praised her, rocking her back and forth like a child and pressing delicate kisses all over her face. After cleaning her with the towel, he set to fixing up wherever it hurt, applying healing lotion and ointment to the spots on her arms and legs where the rope had burned, and stroking her cheeks until most of the marks from the gag had faded.

“Okay. All better,” he sighed and she sniffed, having stopped crying. He tilted her chin up so that she was looking directly at him. “Now, are you proud of yourself? You should be proud of yourself.”

She blushed. He was happy with her. She had succeeded in doing what he wanted her to do. She responded to his pleased grin with a soft smile that made her face glow and imbued his chest with warmth.

“Just don’t ever trick me like that again,” she pouted. 

“That was rather mean of me, wasn’t it?” he conceded with a small laugh, unable to hide the fact that he was a bit gleeful rather than entirely apologetic.

“Mhm,” she added petulantly, burying her face into his shoulder.

“I can’t make any promises there, doll,” he replied slyly. “Not when you make it so much fun to toy with you.” He squeezed his arms around her a final time and they shared a kiss before he shifted his posture.

“Alright, let’s get you something to eat. Easy now.” He helped her stumble to her feet and guided her out of the closet.  

[princesstarfire1234]

Random ideas for a hypothetical Scavengers (mini) series

So I made a google doc a few nights ago and filled it with random ass ideas for how a cartoony likely-episodic Scavengers series could go... It was around the same time I wanted to get to animating a Scavs-related thing but no promises there or to this ever becoming more than rambles

Anyways... heres an unorganized collection of my silly thoughts:

POST-WAR!! War’s over, Autobot-Decepticon alliance is great and dandy for everyone except of course the folks who got left behind and forgotten by respective High Commands and have had to make their own dealings in space to get thru life and shit; focusing on the daily struggles of your average low of the low genericons/bots, the Scavengers

Optimus and Megatron are definitely married (trust); we go the IDW MTMTE route but instead of Megs off on a quest with Roddy and gang, he’s with Optimus and they both publicly surrender/call truce or whatever on-video and agree to help repair cybertron instead of squabbling, sending a message to all cybertronians taking refuge amongst the stars blah blah blah its time to go home (pilot should open with this i think, set the worldview up straight from the beginning)

It could either be set in the slums of like some populated city or smthn, like maybe Dead End of Kaon or smthn OR��� now consider… Set NOT on Cybertron, literally anywhere BUT Cybertron; the Scavs wander space, at least every few episodes or so would be set in a different planet or smthn, having them do their usual shenanigans and (failing) their supply/scavenging runs, as well as the occasional star station too for like a pit stop i guess; there’d be atleast one episode where they go to earth probably

Main characters (scavs duh, but lemme write some shit down here rq):

Krok - the dutiful, ever-patient (one can of engex away from losing it) leader of the Scavengers; he’s the one that usually has the single functioning brain cell

Crankcase - the skillful pilot of the crew’s beloved Decepticon-hijacked Autobot vessel, always in a sour mood, think TFA Ratchet but up the old man crankiness to 500; really good at fixing things (mechanic)

Spinister - a little stupid… all the stupid actually… but he’s got things rattling in there too, don’t worry! The Scavengers’ medic; would probably be Cybertron’s greatest surgeon if it weren’t for everything else

Fulcrum - Defunct?? Rejected?? Something-class Decepticon, a bit of a coward, found in a dumpster by Misfire; he’s a technician too! Score!

Misfire - ideas are about as good as his aim (which is not at all); the really really talkative and social one; rejected Rainmaker/Seeker (bro didnt pass Decepticon Academy, rip)

Additional members that get added to the crew later on!

Grimlock - resident Dinobot and the only Autobot on the crew (for now or smthn idk), thinking of either having them find him during the pilot episode or a bit later on?; i think Krok would definitely have a thing where he’s super wary of him until a big character development episode thing happens like in MTMTE #46

Nickel - hmmm idk yet.. Maybe a former high ranking decepticon officer whose position has been stripped from her the more fucked up and bad the faction ended up becoming because she was very vocal about its problems til the current day? (I just don’t think her being connected to the DJD would work here womp womp)

Flywheels (unsure) - some mech that tagged along with them during one random shenanigans episode

MP3 / or some other new human character (unsure) - they have an episode where they go to Earth and befriend silly human… may or may not keep them, maybe they could be an honorary Scavenger but only appears sometimes or stays on Earth but keeps in touch with the Scavs (look I just think having a human on the crew would be kinda silly and funky for the dynamic)

Meanies to the crew (weekly bad guy):

Novastorm - leader of the Rainmakers; has beef with Misfire

Skullcruncher- Krok hates his guts; he’s the TFA Sentinel to Krok’s TFA Prime, probably served together on like whatever the equivalent of a Warworld ship would be in this

Raiders??? Space pirates??? Idk but I’d def make em be related to Spinister’s past or smthn (this was inspired by some fanfic I read a bit ago, I think Fool’s Paradise on AO3)

Needlenose? (Spin trusted him, betrayed copter boy :((( or smthn)

Scorponok - probably the biggest threat of the show (ofc not in universe), but he’d be like IDW Scorponok in that one Scavs issue, all kinda silly and dramatic but def a threat, he kinda reminds me of Dino/BW Megatron a bit

DJD (absolutely unsure, maybe a passing mention or not at all) - would probably have to sillify them a bit (a lot, idk how the hell Cyberverse managed it with Tarn)...

There's more in the doc but they're not fully formed ideas yet... My countless hours scrolling the Scavengers tags on tumblr have also given me ideas for certain kinds of episodes that could happen but again, nothing concretely written down yet

If I have the energy or remember this, I'm def gonna be updating it with some more ideas cuz whether this becomes real or not, its fun!! Maybe I could write it as a fic one day or if someones wants to idk

Okay bai bai for now, I gotta eep 👋

[acescorazon]

I LOVE YOUR FIC CHANGES!!!!! I HOPE YOU UPDATE SOON!!!!!

THANK U BBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. ILY MUAH. I was updating like every day but then i got my period... i mean i fell into a pit of darkness and didn't have the energy to climb out. How bizarre. ANYWAYS, HERE'S YOUR FOOD.

Title: Changes Ch: 5/?

Rating: M (I'm just putting that as the rating in general for every ch lol)

Word count:2291

Warnings: Depressed clown :(

Chapter excerpt:

"Mihawk keeps asking about you," Mohji announces all of a sudden, "He keeps asking if you're okay and if your illness is something serious." Hawkeye keeps asking about him… Why? To know if he's died yet? What a joke! That man doesn't care about Buggy, why is he even wasting his breath asking about him? "I just keep telling him that you have the flu, and he's always like, 'Ah…is that so? Tell him I hope he feels better.' Isn't that…ridiculous?!" Yeah, that is rather ridiculous.  Buggy has a hard time believing that Mihawk is genuinely concerned about him, but at the same time, he can't imagine why he'd just pretend to care either. It's weird.

|Ch1|Ch2|Ch3|Ch4|

The next several days are on an endless loop for Buggy. He stays in bed all day, unwilling to come face to face with Mihawk after his little drunken rant from days prior, afraid of what Mihawk will say to him now that he's completely sober. So, he stays in bed, either sleeping or lost in thought. He should be preparing men, supplies, and their new flagship for departure, but he can't bring himself to do it. At the very least he should be making sure everything on Emptee Bluffs Island is going smoothly, and yet… he doesn't care about that either. 

Being in Cross Guild is so…exhausting.

Crocodile has called for meetings every single day, and every day, Buggy has one of his men lie and say he's sick. He's missed about 10 meetings now, he thinks. He can't remember, everything is starting to blend in together. All he knows is that sooner or later Crocodile is going to get pissed and come looking for him, and then what? Beat him up? Threaten him? Actually, kill him this time? 

Man, who cares?

Cabaji, Mohji, and Richie, often come by and sit with him, usually overly worried about Buggy's well-being and not believing him when he says he's just sick or tired, but of course, Buggy always tells them that he's fine. 

Today, they're with him again, sitting by his bed and trying to get him to eat some of the sea king the other members of the crew somehow caught and killed today. "Captain…" Mohji sighs, "Come on, at least take a couple of bites." He asks, but he sounds more like he's begging than asking. "You've hardly eaten anything these last few days." While that is very true, it's because Buggy doesn't have much of an appetite these days, nothing tastes right or really interests him, and god knows he doesn't have the energy to make his own food…just… he just wants to sleep.

Buggy sits in his bed, slightly peeved that Cabaji and Mohji insist he sit up in general, and looks down at the sea king on his plate. He's not normally a picky eater, you can't be picky when you've spent most of your life at sea, but… this thing reminds him eerily of a poison dart frog with its vibrant color and spots, yet at the same time, it's got fins and a body like a snake... He doubts his men would actually cook up something poisonous, they aren't that naive…but still, Buggy has no interest in this fish..frog…snake thing. 

But if he did die from ingesting it…that'd just be his luck, wouldn't it? Death seems… inescapable at this point, and he often wonders just what or who will end up taking his life first. "I'm not hungry," Buggy repeats, but Mohji and Cabaji seem determined today.

 

"Just take a couple of bites, please, Captain?" Mohji practically begs, "Just a couple, it's actually really good!" Doubt it, Buggy thinks. 

Cabaji follows suit, "Yeah, just take a couple of bites and if you don't like it, you don't have to eat the whole thing! We'll just feed the rest to Richie, right, Mohji?" 

"Right!" 

Buggy really doesn't want to eat anything, but he hates to make the other two worry, so he ends up taking a couple of bites of his lunch, and yeah, it isn't bad…it's one of the better-tasting sea kings that he's had, this one actually tastes like chicken despite its weird appearance, but Buggy still only eats a couple of bites, just enough to get the other two off his back and then hands Mohji his plate to give to Richie. 

He wants to lie back down, but the others won't let him. "Um, Captain?" Cabaji calls out, seemingly a little nervous, "Uh, how about I run you a warm bath and…uh, How about I help you wash and brush your hair today?" Cabaji suggests with a small grin. Oh, yeah, basic needs are a thing. Man, Buggy really doesn't care about any of that stuff anymore, he's going to die anyways, so what's the point? He'll just ask one of his men to make him look nice for his funeral. 

"Okay?" Cabaji asks, still smiling.

Buggy understands what this really is about. This is a very polite and roundabout way of telling him he needs to bathe, but none of his men would ever outright tell him he stinks so they have to use words like, 'Oh, how about I run you a bath and help you wash your hair today?' Or, 'Wow, you look like you need to relax…how about a nice bath?' 

Whatever. 

Buggy lets Cabaji run him a bath, and he sits and waits in bed while he prepares everything for him. He watches Richie eat his leftover sea king, and can't help but think how nice it'd be to be a lion, well, actually a cat. If reincarnation exists, he thinks he'd like to live a carefree life as a cat, a spoiled one too. Being a pirate isn't something he thinks he'd want to do again unless he could live a life with his old crew again, this time a happy one that isn't cut short, maybe then he'd be a pirate again... Or he could be a star in the sky, that'd be nice. 

"Mihawk keeps asking about you," Mohji announces all of a sudden, "He keeps asking if you're okay and if your illness is something serious." Hawkeye keeps asking about him… Why? To know if he's died yet? What a joke! That man doesn't care about Buggy, why is he even wasting his breath asking about him? "I just keep telling him that you have the flu, and he's always like, 'Ah…is that so? Tell him I hope he feels better.' Isn't that…ridiculous?!" Yeah, that is rather ridiculous.  Buggy has a hard time believing that Mihawk is genuinely concerned about him, but at the same time, he can't imagine why he'd just pretend to care either. It's weird.

"Crocodile has asked about you too, but only once, and when I told him you had the flu, he rolled his eyes at me and went: 'Of course that dumb clown is sick.' And then walked away! I tell ya, I don't know what the others see in those two!" Mohji frowns, "They're so mean to you! I… I think if we all banned together then we could…you know…." He whispers the next part of his sentence, "Show them who's boss."

Honestly if Buggy thought he and or his crew had a chance against Mihawk and Crocodile, then he would have had both of them taken out a long time ago, but he knows even with an army of men, he couldn't take out one of his business partners, let alone both. It's a fun thought though, "Let's not waste our time," Buggy replies, exhaling a long, shaky sigh, "Besides, it's like I told you before, I can handle those two! Do you really think I'd let them beat and bully me?!" 

Mohji just stares at him from his seat, obviously not convinced but he doesn't push the subject any further, and thank God for that.

Cabaji reappears a few moments after that, telling Buggy his bathwater is ready, and in all honesty, Buggy rather not do this, but he doesn't feel like hearing the other two complain either. He follows Cabaji into the bathroom and tells him he can at least bathe himself, and somewhere at the back of Buggy's mind he feels like he should feel more ashamed by the situation, but he doesn't. His former captain always told him that good friends don't judge you when you're at your lowest times and that they instead help you when no one else will, and so maybe that's why he has no guilt about letting Cabaji wash his hair. He'd do the same for him and then some. He and Mohji are more than just subordinates, they're friends, no, they're family, and honestly Buggy doesn't deserve either one of them. 

As he washes Buggy's hair, Cabaji also tells Buggy that Mihawk keeps asking about him. Again, Buggy finds the idea of Mihawk asking all of Buggy’s crew about his well-being almost comical. Did the world’s strongest swordsman grow a heart? Ha, as if. Or maybe Buggy’s earlier suspicions are correct, maybe Mihawk’s waiting, hoping that Buggy’s ‘flu’ will take him out and that he won’t have to deal with him anymore, which honestly seems like a more realistic explanation for everything. 

A hot bath and a nice relaxing hair wash later, and Buggy’s sitting on the small couch in his room, getting his hair brushed by Cabaji as he listens to both Mohji and Cabaji ramble on about this and that, and occasionally bicker over trivial things. It feels like his men are the only consistency in his life, but he wonders if there will be a day when even that changes. Maybe he’ll end up with so many men that their crew will seem more like an army than a family, then again maybe he won’t live to see the day when that’s actually a problem. And if that doesn’t happen, then maybe Mihawk will eventually end up replacing Buggy’s crew with a new, more efficient one that he hardly knows let alone can consider his family…who knows?

Now, as stated before, Buggy’s usual visitors consist of Mohji, Cabaji and Richie, but today Buggy finds himself getting an additional guest in his room. Sometime around late afternoon Alvida joins Buggy’s already boisterous company, and as soon as she realizes Buggy’s perfectly fine, she sighs at him,”I knew you weren’t sick.” she mutters as she has a seat on the couch next to him after Cabaji and Mohji fight over who’s spot she can take, “But oh well, you won’t believe what I just saw.” She says, grinning. 

Hopefully, she saw Crocodile and Mihawk board a ship and sail as far away from the island as possible, never to return again, but that’s just not realistic, is it? “What did you see?” Buggy asks though he’s not particularly curious about her gossip today.

“Mihawk and Crocodile were fighting.”

“Crocodile and Mihawk bicker every once in a while, so what?” 

“No, they were actually physically fighting earlier.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know but they were both heated,” Alvida claims, “I think they reached a draw, but they were fighting for a long time, half the island saw it.”

Despite claiming that he doesn’t care about either of the two, Buggy’s slightly curious about Mihawk and Crocodile’s altercation. Sure they’ve butt heads a couple of times in the past because Crocodile is so damn overbearing and of course, Mihawk doesn’t take being bossed around lightly, but they never get physical with things, it’s usually just threats of possible fights that don’t go anywhere. Maybe that was it, maybe Crocodile just got too controlling again, and Mihawk got tired of it. He did say he was tired of Crocodile’s shit the other day… Yeah, that’s got to be it…Because what else could it be???

…

A couple of more days go by after that, and Buggy’s still stuck in that same loop: Sleep. Overthink. Sleep. Overthink. Sleep. Overthink. Of course, there are brief things that break the cycle like Mohji and Cabaji checking on him and feeding him and making sure he’s being taken care of, but other than that, it’s just sleep, overthink, repeat. He just doesn’t see the point in getting out of bed every day when Mihawk and Crocodile are just going to make his life a living hell, or worse, end his miserable existence. 

Despite all his stress though, there are times when his bedroom is rather comforting, he knows that it offers him no real protection from the outside world, but in his room he feels safe and like he’s miles away from all his problems even though they’re literally just right outside. He thinks he’s missed, hm…12 meetings now, maybe 13 …14? Who knows, he’s surprised that Crocodile is even still calling for them, or that he hasn’t come barging into his room to yank him out of his bed and beat him to death for ruining his perfect schedule.

Buggy doesn’t care about Cross Guild though (or for much of anything right now) he never has and he doubts he ever will. He’s perfectly fine just keeping himself locked away in his bedroom for as long as possible. Mohji will take care of the others and if he doesn’t, then Alvida will, and if she doesn’t, then Buggy’s sure that Crocodile and Mihawk will boss his men around, but they’re strong, spirited, and oblivious, they can handle anything. 

Something breaks his seemingly endless depressive cycle by the time he’s missed 18 meetings…or was it 19?

One of his men comes into his room around midmorning, like always, and tells him that a meeting has been called… But today, Mihawk’s the one who’s called for the meeting apparently, and Buggy instantly tells his subordinate to tell Mihawk that he’s still under the weather and can’t go to the meeting, to which his subordinate replies, “He says it’s urgent, Chairman Buggy, and that if you can’t go to the meeting room, that he’ll bring the meeting here instead.”

That’s got to be the worst, no, actually, the second worst thing he’s been told in his entire life. Why? Why now? Why can’t Mihawk and Crocodile just hold their dumb meetings by themselves? It’s not like Buggy gets to make any decisions or his input matters, why does he have to leave his safe space and go see them?

((A/n: Hate how they didn't add ChouChou to the live-action or Richie. The idea that some of you might not know that Richie is a lion and you might think he's just some guy is funny though lol.))

[cal-writes]

I feel like in a lot of your stories, your zoro exudes abandonment issues 🥲 Is that a conscious thing on your part? Or am I projecting lmao

I’m loving the little snippets of fic you post btw always brightens my day 😃

he does. it sorta happened subconsciously i think. im not sure if it started from my interpretation of his character in canon or from myself projecting lol

i think it might be a mixture of both like. the juxtaposition of zoro as a character who is very confident in exactly one area of himself and that is fighting and his strength. like zoro doesnt tend to get jealous until luffy implies someone might be stronger than him. i always think of something the youtube quinn curio said in a video about the umbrella academy talking about the character played by elliot page.

so i often read zoro as someone who thinks he needs to be the strongest so that has value or is allowed to be there

and another part i think is that zoro is a very lonely character. like we learn about kuina and that she died when she was 11 and that shook him so fundamentally that he's essentially living his life to fullfil that promise he made to her. we've seen koushiro and johnny and yosaku but they were very utilitarian. koushiro was his trainer, i dont think zoro ever mentioned him again since the flashback in like what chapter 5? and johnny and yosaku were a good way to bring arlongs bounty up and show the necessity of having a cook on board. sure they care of zoro and he cares about them but there isnt the sense that they are particulary close. zoro doesn't have a family like nami, or someone who seems to have raised him like family like luffy and sanji. if we take movie canon into it as well he'd have another friend from the doji similarly to kuina who he later thought had died due to him not being strong enough

and even now in the more recent manga chapters we see it implied twice that zoro is "a burden" on his crew, both from an antagonist but then also from a crew member. and unlike when sanji and zoro usually bicker, zoro doesnt respond. we have a panel of him flinching about the comment before he grits his teeth and continues.

addtionally during water seven when everyone is falling apart bc of whats going on he's not allowing himself to be vulnerable. we dont see him miserable or angry or sad because he sees his duty as having to hold it together and make sure everyone gets through this. like zoro was just as affected by merry's fate as everyone else but he couldn't show that (or he felt like he couldnt). its an incredibly isolating experience.

there is that manga panel which i might be misinterpreting bc the speech bubbles make it hard to tell who is actually saying it

like "huh you saved me" like he's surprised someone would do that.

but even if in that panel its not zoro saying it we still see himself punishing himself after getting injured in a fight even if he ultimately won. after little garden he trains until his feet bleed again, after the fight with mr one not only does he carry nami around for hours and gets shot while injured already he doesnt let himself recover, and then of course after thriller bark.

i always get the sense that zoro puts an enormous amount of pressure on himself as if he has to justify being there and has huge expectations for himself that he needs to meet.

and not to forget that on shabaody, he had no idea what happened to everyone else. he was the first to leave and for all he knew until they got the message from luffy, everyone died bc he was injured. i think that definitely festered.

like (its probably not that deep but you are reading this so far so youre in too deep now)

i thought it was curious. that zoro is the first one back. that he asked perona for help to find the way. as if he was worried. that if he came to late they wouldn't wait. so he made sure he was the best, the fastes, the first. he made sure to show off his new skills immediately. tried to show them off to luffy immediately despite it being a dumb idea to cut their bubble underwater.

so anyway yea i do end up writing zoro as someone who has abandonment issues tied in with his self esteem issues.

[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

Hi! I saw that your requests were open, so I was wondering when if you can do where the team meets Fem! Y/n who is mute and is La’an’s twin sister?

Two Parts of a Whole

Pairing: (familial) La'an Noonien-Singh x fem!mute!reader; Crew x fem!mute!reader Fandom: Star Trek Strange New World Words: 4.5K Warnings: Mentions of La'an's Gorn trauma, Spoilers towards season 1 A/N: Thank you so much for requesting!! I hope it's satisfactory because this is the first time I wrote something like that. To be honest, I'm not entirely satisfied with it, but it won't get better. And I'm sorry that it took so long

The promenade of the space station she was currently on was packed and she was grateful that she had been able to get an empty spot on one of the pillars near the airlock. Not only several freighters had arrived almost simultaneously, but also two Vulcan research ships and an Andorian battle cruiser of the Imperial Guard. She had only noticed them in passing, however, as her focus was on the huge Federation starship. The USS Enterprise, NCC - 1701, Constitution Class and the flagship of the fleet. She, however, only cared about, one person on this huge ship.

Searchingly, she bobbed up and down, heel to toe and back again, hands clasped behind her back. Apparently she seemed to be so conspicuous that people were worried, because she was approached by an Andorian woman, quite brusquely, asking if she needed help, but she had quickly waved her aside. She was doing fine, even better than that, after all, she would be able to see her sister for the first time in months.

Perhaps it was a little paranoid of her to worry after such a short time, but the meeting with the Gorn had also left its mark on her. Unlike the rest of her family, she had not been on the SS Puget Sound because she had contracted Bolian smallpox, which was highly contagious, on the space station where they had stopped. Accordingly, she and her aunt, who was also ill, had been left on the station, with the expectation of returning to collect them after two weeks. At that time, no one could have guessed that it wouldn't come like that.

Her world had collapsed that day and, believing she had lost her entire family, she had spent days crying and refusing to eat or drink. And she probably would have gone on with it, had it not been for her aunt, who had begged her that her family had not wanted it that way and that she should not leave her alone. So she had carried on with her life as best she could, but it had seemed hollow and empty to her. Her siblings, but especially her twin, had been her motivation, her joy of life. A life without them had become unimaginable for her.

But just when she had convinced herself that it might, just maybe, be possible to survive without her family, the news arrived. La'an had survived. Her sister was alive. At first she hadn't wanted to believe it, the fear of raising her hopes unnecessarily was too great. Even when they were standing at the airlock, she had vehemently refused to even consider the possibility that she might still be alive. It was only when La'an had thrown herself around her neck, crying, and she had realised that, yes, La'an was alive, that she had been unable to hold on any longer and had cried just as unrestrainedly as La'an.

For the next few months, the twins were inseparable. Neither could last more than a few minutes in a room without the other, and their aunt had caught them both lying close together in bed at night to feel each other's body heat. Over the years, the situation had improved, but she still felt an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach when they were apart for long periods of time. She had been all the happier when she had learned that their paths would cross on this space station.

She herself was only nearby because she had been assigned by Starfleet to look more closely into the culture of Jitrav IV, with which it had only recently made contact. Strictly speaking, she was not a member of Starfleet in the sense of travelling the galaxy, but more in the sense of gathering information and reporting it back. In the past, she might have enjoyed flying through the quadrant in starships and getting to know new civilisations, but after the disaster with the Gorn, she had developed a real phobia about starships.

So she had devoted herself to exploring alien cultures from the safe distance of her home on Earth, but her work had been so distinguished that Starfleet had taken notice and wanted to hire her on one of their ships. She had decided against it, but in the end had gotten a relatively good deal out of it: Although she had to travel by starship from time to time, she would spend longer periods on other planets to learn about their cultures and languages. She documented her research thoroughly and sent it to Starfleet, whereas they paid for all her expenses as long as they remained within reason.

But this fear had not stopped her from getting into the first shuttle to this space station when La'an had told her that the Enterprise would dock there. She had been standing at her spot since early morning so as not to miss her sister. A few minutes ago, the first stream of Starfleet officers had poured onto the Promenade and she had to do her best to calm down. She knew La'an. She would not disembark until she was truly one hundred percent sure that there were no further duties. Knowing that her sister would need some more time, she began to observe the crowd of officers.

Frowning, she realised that most of them were human. She had expected this, but she had also been convinced that there had to be more non-humans on board. She noticed two Tellarites, a handful of Bolians and she thought she caught a glimpse of a Vulcan in a blue uniform out of the corner of her eye.

After twenty minutes of waiting, she saw an Aenar in a red uniform who was accompanied by a young woman in an equally red uniform who was talking intensely to him. Although he seemed grumpy and annoyed and gave the impression that he was not listening, she could see from his antennae directed at the young woman and the fact that she had spent two years on Andoria among Andorians and Aenar that he was listening more than attentively to her. Smiling, she shook her head and turned her attention back to the airlock. What a strange combination.

All in all, it took almost three quarters of an hour until she finally spotted her sister's dark braids, which were tightly braided back, but by then she could no longer be stopped. The promenade had emptied out a little in the meantime, so it wasn't particularly difficult for her to make her way to La'an, who fortunately noticed her in time. The latter fortunately noticed her in time to put her bag down before she crashed into the security officers. " Oof-" La'an groaned, but chuckled softly in response and after a short time of stiffness also put her arms around her to press her twin sister against her.

For a while they held each other tightly, even if it earned them some strange looks from bystanders. When she broke away from La'an, she noticed that she had blushed a little, but she didn't care. You are late, she signed. La'an nodded and smiled a little stiffly. "I know. However, I wanted to make sure everything was ready myself before I went to disembark." The young woman raised an eyebrow. Besides, you had to keep your reputation. La'an rolled her eyes. "Maybe a little."

La'an picked up her bags and followed her. They had agreed in advance to share quarters, so she just followed her to her quarters. Since it was difficult to converse while walking if one had to sign, they walked side by side in comfortable silence without another word to the other. It didn't bother her, as she knew that she and La'an would have plenty of time to talk. At the moment, it was simply important to her that her sister was with her again. Halfway to the lift, however, a voice stopped them. "Lieutenant Singh!"

They turned and she saw two women running towards them, whom she didn't know, her sister by all appearances did. One was slightly taller, had chin-length white-blonde hair and had apparently been the one who had called out to La'an. The other was smaller, had short dark hair and a cheeky grin on her lips. La'an just raised an eyebrow. "Yes?" "We were going out for a drink. Care to join us?" The taller one added with a quick glance at her" That goes for your...girlfriend too of course?" La'an narrowed her eyes. "She is my sister. And no thanks. I'm busy."

However, the two of them seemed not to have caught the last sentence, as the anthropologist and linguist was now the focus. "I didn't know you had a sister, Lieutenant." The blonde propped a hand on her hip as La'an took a deep breath. "Now you know." The shorter one held out her hand, which she hesitantly accepted. "My name is Erica Ortegas, Erica will do. And this is Christine." The blonde waved, but before she could do anything, La'an had placed a hand on her shoulder and hastily introduced her. "She is pleased to make your acquaintance, however we would like some time alone." Christine frowned. "Why don't you let her speak for herself?"

La'an's eyes only narrowed more, whereas she merely smiled in amusement and opened her mouth. Erica and Christine looked at her expectantly, only to look even more surprised when she began to sign instead. I'm mute and La'an translates for me, so it's all okay. She nodded her thanks to Christine. But thank you for your concern. After giving La'an a prompting look, she translated what her sister had said through clenched teeth, clearly annoyed at having been stopped by her colleagues.

Christine smiled but at the same time turned red in the face. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean it." She just tilted her head and nudged La'an. "That's all right. However, I would like to spend some time with my sister now." Erica and Christine, who was obviously still embarrassed by the whole thing, nodded and said a quick goodbye and she gave her sister a reproving look. You could have been a little nicer. La'an didn't respond any further.

Once in their quarters, La'an just barely took off her shoes and threw the bags on the floor before she fell backwards onto her bed and groaned. Her sister smiled slightly and snapped her hand to get her attention, whereupon she opened her eyes languidly. That bad? La'an sighed and sat up. "Well, I wouldn't know how to describe two run-ins with the Gorn any other way." She flinched and if she hadn't needed her hands to sign, she would have reached for La'an's. How? That was all she could bring herself to say, so much were her hands shaking. She knew how much the incident with the Gorn weighed on La'an, even more than on her, and the thought that her sister had had to face those monsters again did not make her feel at all comfortable.

La'an's voice broke several times before she was able to reply. "There were four Gorn ships. On Memorial Day. We barely got away, but we lost several crew members." She swallowed, but when she was asked if she wanted to stop, she replied in the negative. "The second time, we were on a planet, Valeo Beta V, responding to a distress call from a ship that had landed there. There weren't many of us, just a handful, and Enterprise had to move on and..." La'an broke off and her sister, who was now sitting next to her, squeezed her hand. In a shaky voice, La'an continued. "We found two survivors, however one was infected and before we knew it we were dealing with three hatchlings. Cadet Chia and Lieutenant Duke died. We almost lost our chief engineer as well."

But only almost? La'an laughed shakily. "It was more luck than good sense, really. We found out that the Gorn reproduce via their poison and Hemmer, our engineer, was hit. It didn't look good and without Doctor M'Benga on site...." She broke off. Gently her sister patted her back. He's all right though, isn't he? He's alive. "He was willing to sacrifice himself." La'an's voice was no more than a whisper and she had trouble understanding her. "I was the only one in the room with him, I could have stopped him, but I didn't do anything. I was too scared. If it hadn't been for the captain..." She tried to make calming noises to reassure La'an, however this seemed to have the opposite effect as she jumped up.

"No! You don't understand! I was ready to let a colleague, a friend, die because I was too scared! Because if I had thought even for a moment that he was from bloody Andoria, it might have occurred to me that he had a lower body temperature and consequently the process of hatching would be slowed! My fear almost killed Hemmer! How can I be head of security if my fear doesn't allow me to think clearly to protect the people who are under my protection?!"

She was shocked to see tears in La'an's eyes, which she resolutely wiped away. It's not your fault. She stood up and went over to her sister. Do you hear me? It is not your fault. He's alive, that's all that matters. "But I-" She clapped her hands loudly and interrupted La'an. No. It's not your fault, she repeated. Her gaze softened and she stroked La'an's shoulder. You have experienced traumatic things. No one blames you for being afraid. Most would have hidden in your place. Not you. No feelings of guilt. Please. La'an smiled bitterly before hugging her sister. "Thank you."

It took a while for the sisters to let go, but when they did, La'an seemed a lot more relaxed than before. At least, as relaxed as she could be. You have an Andorian as chief engineer? La'an frowned. "What makes you think that?" You said Andoria. "He's Aenar. They run even colder than Andorians. Don't ask me why though, I'm not a doctor."

I know. She grinned cheekily at her and they both had to think back to the incident in their childhood where La'an had tried to treat her wound with baking paper that did not absorb liquids. La'an smiled slightly. "I was six." So was I. Knew better anyway. She frowned briefly. Think I saw your chief engineer. "Oh yeah?"

She nodded. About that tall? She raised her hand. Red uniform. Grumpy? La'an smiled. "Sounds like Hemmer. Was he in company?" She nodded. Woman, small, short hair, black, red uniform. Talked a lot. La'an chuckled softly. "And that would be Uhura. She's a cadet, but one of the best linguists around. And she's somehow managed to befriend the grump of the ship." I didn't know you guys were friends. "Haha."

But he looked okay. Not hurt. A little grumpy, but healthy. "If that's your attempt to tell me it's all okay, stop. It's not making it better." She gave a silent sigh. Fine. But you need distraction. And relaxation. Her mind wandered back to the conversation from before. Fancy a drink?

~**~

It was like pulling teeth to convince La'an to go to the bar, but in the end she won and, followed by a somewhat grim-looking La'an, went down to the promenade, which by now, due to the hour, had filled up again. Which one do you want? Take your pick. La'an sighed and finally pointed to a larger establishment that formed the centre of the promenade. "If we're going to drink, let's do it properly." Her sister grinned and together they entered the room.

It was already well filled, yet she was still able to grab a small booth for them while La'an went to the bar to return with two colourful drinks. "Well then," La'an sighed as she slid into her seat and raised her glass. "To a wonderful evening." Her facial expressions were far too exaggerated, yet she didn't care. Cheers, she signed back, before picking up her glass herself and clinking her glass against her sister's.

The glasses clinked softly, the sound drowning in the noise around them, and in sync the sisters downed the drink. But while La'an remained expressionless, she screwed up her face and hastily put the glass down. What is this!!! La'an smiled to herself, which caused her sister's expression to darken further. "A little bit of everything." She screwed up her face. I'm going to have the hangover of my life. "Probably." Thank you for your compassion.

La'an grinned, however that smile faded as she looked past her sister. "Oh God." She turned, following La'an's gaze until her own gaze lingered on a group of people in Starfleet uniform. There were four people, three men and one woman, if she was so free to take that in. One of the men seemed to be "leading" the group. He wore a yellow and gold top, had silver and grey hair and a cheeky grin on his lips as he talked incessantly to the woman, also dressed in yellow. The latter had tied her dark hair into a high plait and did not look very impressed, but had a narrow smile on her lips. The other two were dressed in different shades of blue. One was slightly shorter, had a beard and was giving her dad vibes, whereas the other was clearly a Vulcan, his arms behind his back and one eyebrow raised sceptically.

The first man seemed to notice them because his face lit up and he waved at La'an before turning to the others, whereupon the group of four came towards them. La'an narrowed her eyes. "Just what I needed." Her sister gently slapped her arm and gave her a reproving look before the group was already beside them. "Hi." The man smiled broadly at her and briefly she wondered if this man had ever considered becoming a model for dental advertising, so white did his teeth appear. "Would it be okay if we joined you, La'an." The woman interposed. "Unless of course you'd like some time alone, which would be perfectly understandable." At that she gave the man a stern look, under which he shrank but his smile did not.

La'an glanced briefly at her sister before, in the face of the hopeful smile, she sighed in surrender and slid up a little to make room for the four. As everyone looked at her more or less expectantly, she took over the introductions. "This is my sister. She is currently working on Jitrav IV as a xeno-anthropologist. This is Captain Christopher Pike, Commander Una Chin-Riley, Lieutenant Spock and Doctor Joseph M'Benga. We serve together." She grinned at La'an. Oh really, I would never have guessed. La'an just rolled her eyes, however, she seemed to have caught the interest of the others.

The Vulcan, Spock, raised his eyebrow. "You use sign language." Mockingly, she raised her eyebrow in turn. Oh do I? I hadn't noticed. La'an snorted into her drink and tried to suppress a laugh. "What did she say?" Pike looked at her as if she was the most intriguing thing he'd ever seen, which flustered and confused her in equal measure. It wasn't that special now. La'an cleared her throat. "That she is pleased to make your acquaintance." Indignantly, she slapped La'an's arm. I didn't say that! "Subtext," La'an added, which earned her a snort.

She then turned her gaze to Spock. I am mute. Sign language is therefore my only way of communicating with others. It has been done that way for centuries. La'an translated for her without twisting the words in her mouth this time. Well, hands. M'Benga cleared his throat. "I thought there were treatments by now." She shook her head. No long-term ones. Besides, the risks are too great. After that, the four of them left it at that and they returned to a more relaxed conversation. At least they tried to, since most of the conversation was really just Pike and her, La'an's translations excluded, and the occasional comment from M'Benga. Una spoke up from time to time, as did La'an, but Spock was silent almost the entire time.

After half an hour, their drinks were empty and Pike offered to get more, which everyone agreed to, but he came back with two more people in tow, though she had already seen them. "Look who I ran into. Thought it would be nice to add to the fellowship," Pike grinned as he placed the drinks on the table, pointing to the Aenar and the young woman standing behind him. While the Aenar, Hemmer if she remembered correctly, looked just as grumpy as before, the young woman, Uhura, smiled all over her face and instantly locked eyes with her.

"Hi, you're Lieutenant Singh's sister, aren't you? The Captain had mentioned it." She held out her hand. "I'm Cadet Uhura, but please call me Nyota. This is Hemmer and don't worry," she leaned down a little towards her, "He's only half as grumpy as he looks." Hemmer scoffed. "I'm blind, not deaf, Uhura. I heard you." Nyota blushed but didn't apologise and on closer inspection, she could see that Hemmer didn't really look mad. She smiled at them both and quickly introduced herself. To her surprise, La'an didn't even bother to translate, as Nyota seemed able to do so herself.

"Oh, that's a beautiful name." You know sign language? Apparently one could see the surprise on her face, because Pike laughed softly. "Uhura is quite talented with languages, you might say." For the first time in half an hour, Spock spoke up. "Cadet Uhura speaks over thirty-seven languages, so by human parameters, she is more than 'quite talented'." Her jaw dropped? Thirty-seven? You're too good for this ship. That elicited a laugh from Uhura and after they had all scooted up, the other two had also squeezed onto the bench, Hemmer a little more reluctantly than Uhura, which was why she was now squeezed between La'an and Pike. There were worse things.

In time, they were joined by Erica and Christine, who had a young man named Sam Kirk in tow, which was the moment they decided to move the whole thing to a larger table. Now seated between M'Benga and Hemmer, facing La'an and Uhura, she noted with relief that her sister seemed to be starting to warm up. She knew that La'an would have preferred to be alone with her, but they would have plenty of time for that and at the moment she simply enjoyed being among so many people, which was not really common in her job, with the constant changing of places.

However, after almost another half hour of the crew telling their stories in Starfleet, including the amusing part of the Gorn disaster where Hemmer and Uhura were shot off the ship (Uhura confessed, admittedly a little drunk, that Hemmer had looked like a meerkat. The latter had protested, but his antennae and dark cheeks had betrayed him), they turned their attention to her and her profession. Patiently she answered, with La'an's help, until Uhura asked a question that made her think of something. "How do you manage to do your job with people who don't speak SSL (standard sign language)?"

For a moment she paused and frowned. What do you mean? La'an quietly translated for the rest and Uhura shifted back and forth in her seat. "Well, you meant that you were getting to know the native inhabitants of the planets to study their culture and the intricacies of their languages more closely, but how-" -can I do that without speaking myself? Uhura nodded and she smiled at her. One moment.

She rummaged in her trouser pocket and pulled out ten rings, each of which was connected to another, smaller ring with thin steel bands. She slipped them over her fingers so that the larger ring sat on her knuckle and the smaller one just below her fingernail. She then rolled up her sleeves to reveal two bracelets, one on each wrist, which she tapped on for some time until they beeped briefly and began to glow blue.

I don't need to speak. I have these. She signed, but a tinny female voice spoke for her. The people around her stared at her with wide eyes and of course Spock was the first to catch himself to ask a question. "Why didn't you use that before." It isn't complete. She regarded him with narrowed eyebrows as the voice continued to translate for her. It's missing the sensors for the face, arms and torso that I usually wear. Sign language is not just language of the hands. Is complex.

She looked down at her hands. It's not exact and I have to sign very slowly and clearly for the right thing to come out. Besides, it's slow. Takes longer than living translator. Not a problem with speeches, awkward with conversations. With that, however, she seemed to have caught Hemmer's attention. "Sure the whole thing couldn't be calibrated more sensitively?" She shrugged. Don't have a clue about such things. Starfleet takes care of that sort of thing. However, this is just a prototype, better is to come soon. Apparently she had signed too quickly and uncleanly this time, because the voice didn't spit out "Starfleet" but "Stargazer". Annoyed, she frowned and deactivated the bracelet.

"I think it's cool," Nyota declared, smiling broadly, which earned her a slight smile as well. Quite a bit.

After that, the conversation turned back to more mundane things and no one talked about the bracelets, even though she sensed that Hemmer was tempted to get his hands on them. He did not say so, but his antennae twitched conspicuously in her direction. After two hours, however, La'an and she decided to leave. This was accompanied by a series of disappointed noises, but they did not let themselves be brought down. After promising Uhura to polish up her SSL and Hemmer that he could look at her speaking aid tomorrow, she and La'an wished everyone a good night before they left the bar.

In the lift, they leaned against the wall and La'an heaved a sigh. "This is not how I had imagined my evening to be, if I'm honest." But it was still nice, wasn't it? La'an pursed her mouth. "Tolerable." She grinned at La'an. I can live with that. She pinched her sister's cheek to keep her attention. I like them, all of them. They're nice. La'an shook her head with a smile. "Especially Uhura though, right?" It's always nicer to talk to people who understand you without you. The lift doors opened and La'an pulled her behind her. "Come on. You owe me another game of cards and this time you won't be able to wriggle out of it."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@bigblissandlove1 @akamitrani