#pull-ups thrusters

[bucks-babe]

Be Mean To Me

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: After a long day at work, you just want to lose all control and have your boyfriend fuck you into oblivion 

Warnings: Established relationship, slight angst, fluff, smut, mean!dom!bucky, reader asks for it, they are so in love, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), ball sucking, slapping, spit kink?, degradation, humiliation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch, sugar, good girl), daddy kink, some praise, spanking, pussy slapping (like once), safe word (yellow), vaginal sex, no prep anal, Bucky has a huge dick, choking, aftercare, check-ins, crying during sex, crying after sex, soft!Bucky, no mention of Y/N, no description of reader other than being female

Word Count: 4.9k of mostly smut

A/N: This was very self indulgent. Work has been kicking my ass and I want to be taken care of. Any mistakes are my own. If I missed any warnings please let me know. @bucknastysbabe it's done! I think I should go back to therapy. But hey, smut

You feel your throat tighten as you walk up to the apartment you share with Bucky. It was one of those days that left you beaten down and wanting to curl up under your blankets and cry. You didn’t even want to go into work this morning, having to force yourself to get ready. Too many rude customers, incompetent coworkers giving you more work than you get paid to do, everything leaving you overstimulated and wanting your boyfriend.

It left a craving deep down inside of you, a want that you knew only he could quell. You just wanted to shut your brain off, have Bucky take care of you, ruin you, treat you like a whore, break you down, just to put you back together again.

You swallow the lump in your throat and unlock the front door, finding Bucky on the couch watching some random action movie that he claimed to hate. At the sight of him your body naturally relaxes and the urge to crawl onto his lap is too much to bear.

“Hey, sugar. I’ve been missing you all day. You’ll never fucking believe the video Sam sent me of Tony trying out his new thrusters! He flew rig- What’s wrong?” He perked up at the sound of the door opening, truly missing his girl. Whenever you’re around him his entire day gets better, a lightness filling his chest, but when he sees how run down you are, his heart literally hurts for you. Bucky wants to protect you from everything, from supervillains all the way to spiders in the house.

“Long day, baby. Just wanna be with you.” He opens his arms and you instantly crawl into his lap, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. He runs his metal hand up and down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible, while his flesh hand rests on your head, holding you to his neck, letting you breathe him in.

“What can I do for you, sugar? Want to talk about it? I can order from your favorite place. Can run you a bath. Whatever you want, sweet girl.” 

“Please, be mean to me, Bucky.” Bucky feels his heart clench in his chest. He wants to keep your heart safe from whatever it is that is plaguing you, but he knows he can’t. What he can do is follow your request and make you forget.

“How mean do you want me, sugar?” Bucky has done this for you a few times. He always asks how you want him to treat you. It’s in his nature to be sweet to you, fill you with praise, but that's not what you want right now. You want to be degraded and treated like a fucktoy.

“Mean.” You keep your eyes trained on him. This is the only part where you need to keep your head on, make sure that he knows you want this.

“Remember your colors, sugar?” You nob, excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Remember, daddy will only be upset with you if you don’t use them. If you need to say yellow or red, you will.” His tone is final. This is the only way he would ever agree to treating you like a slut.

“Yes, daddy.” And just like that, Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He goes from your sweet, cuddly boyfriend to a cold and callous body of muscle. 

“Then take your clothes off, slut.” He pushes you off his lap, just hard enough to give the illusion of indifference. As you strip, Bucky keeps his eyes trained on the TV, not paying you any mind. Your core throbs at the fact that you are completely exposed while he is still fully dressed. 

“On your knees.” He’s still not looking at you, but you obey without thought, willing to do whatever he wants. Grabbing the back of your neck, he forces you in between his spread legs, and you whine at the fact that his cock is still soft inside his sweats. Any other day, Bucky would make sure that your knees were never on the hardwood floor without a pillow or something soft underneath, but not today.

On days like these, when you want to feel completely submissive, it takes Bucky a while to get aroused. It’s in his nature to love up on you, make you drunk with pleasure in the sweetest way possible. He feeds off of your energy. When he is sure that you are having fun, his body lets himself fall into his role.

“What? You think at the first signs of some tits I’m gonna get hard? I knew you were a dumb slut but I didn’t realize just how thick you were.” Your pussy was absolutely pulsing with need. With his hand still on the back of your neck, he rubs your face against his crotch, feeling his cock begin to harden at the smell of your arousal.

He pulls you back far enough to slide his pants down, foregoing boxers, and you immediately try to take his half hard length in your mouth. Before you can process it, Bucky’s right hand lands a slap to your cheek - hard enough to make a welt that will take a few hours to disappear. You gasp and your cunt pulses even harder than before at the sting left on your cheek. 

His metal hand wraps around your chin, much cooler than it’s supposed to be, and forces you to look him in the eye. In the back of your mind you realize that he turned on the cooling function in his arm to sooth your cheek; the arm was built to keep him cool in the Wakandan sun and heat. “Did daddy say you could suck his cock?” He uses his hand to shake your head from side to side, answering for you. “Then keep your slutty mouth shut.”

He spreads his legs wider and pulls your face closer to his heavy sack, already full of cum. “Hands behind your back, and suck on daddy’s balls.” You join your hands together behind your back without question and nuzzle his balls. Wasting no time, you take one into your mouth, sucking feverishly, enjoying the light dusting of hair tickling your face.

“Oh, fuck, come on, slut, I know you can do better than that. Take ‘em both in your dirty mouth.” He pushes you further into him, cutting off your oxygen, and you swear you hear your slick drip onto the floor. Your jaw aches as you try to get them both in your mouth, but you can't; his balls are too big. Bucky ruts against your face, squishing his balls, precum leaking from his tip, dripping onto his stomach after he takes his shirt off.

With your limited amount of movement, you alternate between each ball, licking at the seam. Every time you switch balls, you feel the other drag wetly across your face and you have to clench your legs in an attempt to quell the ache between them while fighting with your need for air. “Such a dirty bitch, lapping at your daddy’s nuts, shit.” He pulls you back just as your head starts to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and you gasp for air, spit is covering the lower half of your face and is dripping down your neck and chest; Bucky feels his cock throb at the sight.

Reaching out, Bucky smears your spit around your face and leaves another, weaker smack to your cheek before he grabs his cock and uses his weeping tip to tease you, dragging it on your face. “What a nasty fucking bitch, drooling all over the place just from sucking some balls.” He slaps your cheeks with it a few times before forcing your head down all the way, making you gag and you immediately pull off, coughing.

He stares into your eyes, cold and calculating, waiting for you to speak. When your coughing subsides you manage to get out a hoarse ‘green,’ giving him the all clear. He takes your head and once again makes you take his cock, this time much slower and not as deep, the first time he wanted to fuck with you. “Such a perfect fucking mouth, shit.” He stops you from bobbing your head, “Stop being such a desperate whore and let daddy finish his movie.” You're sure you’re leaking onto the floor at this point.

You are able to see his face and he looks wrecked, mouth hanging open and head back; he’s not watching shit. Nonetheless, you rest your head on his thigh, getting comfortable, spreading your legs out to get closer to the floor so your head won't be bent at an awkward angle, ignoring the pain in your knees and the ache in your jaw. 

The only sounds filling the room are Bucky’s ragged breathing and the movie playing in the background. There is saliva everywhere, his cock, all over his balls, down to his ass and on the couch. His cock is constantly leaking precum into your mouth but you don’t swallow, letting his taste linger on your tongue. 

This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to demolish you. Sitting with his cock in your mouth is giving you too much time to think, so you do what any sane person would do - be a brat. At the first suckle, Bucky lets out a broken moan, at the second, he knows what you’re up to. Flicking your ear with his metal hand he hisses, “Don’t make me punish you, bitch.” At the third, he yanks you off of his dick, a trail of drool and precum keeping the two of you connected, as slaps you once again with his flesh hand, this time not soothing the marred flesh with his metal hand.

He stands and kicks the couch out of the way and pulls you with him by the neck. “You disobedient little-” he cuts himself short at the small puddle of slick that he finds from your previous position. “Is that what I think it is?” You only whine in response, his grip on your neck never faltering. 

With his free hand, he reaches down to your pussy to feel just how wet you are, confirming his suspicions. “What a dirty fucking slut, leaking all over my floor.” He pulls you in closer to him just to whisper, “Lick it the fuck up, bitch,” before pushing you to the ground. 

Your knees hit the wood hard and pain runs up your spine. You ignore the ache and brainlessly lap at your juices on the floor before Bucky smushes your cheek against the puddle and you moan. “Messy bitch, you are? Cunt is pulsing, waiting for my dick. Too bad I have to punish you, isn’t it, slut?” He leans down to the floor, eyes lined up with yours. “Daddy is going to give you ten spanks and I want you to count them.” You don’t respond immediately, stuck in a sort of limbo, drawn in further at the softness in his eyes.

No matter how hard he tries, Bucky can’t hide his devotion to you, that’s why he doesn’t let you look at him when he needs to play this role. His whole face softens at your silence, fearing he’s gone too far. “Color, sugar.” Stroking your cheek, he leans in closer, breathing you in.

“Green, daddy, so green.” The sigh Bucky lets out is audible and he feels ten times lighter.

“Good girl, you want to keep going the way we were?” Even though you said green, he wants to be certain.

“Yes please, daddy, want you to be mean.” You look so small and soft. Bucky struggles to put his facade back up, but he knows you need this.

Bucky positions himself behind you, staring at your ass and glistening pussy, and feels his cock bounce. The first slap isn’t soft by any means, you know there will be a handprint left. Your body jolts and Bucky groans at the jiggle of your ass. “One.” The second is on your other cheek and makes you clench around nothing. “Two.” He lands the next two much harder on the same cheek and you feel tears form in your eyes, yet continue to count, digging your nails into your palm.

He repeats the two spanks to your left cheek and takes a break to sooth your heated and raised skin with his metal hand after you’ve counted. The ground beneath your cheek is hard and unforgiving, leaving you neck bent at an odd angle. Spank seven lands on the back of your right thigh and somehow feels much stronger. “Shit! Seven, daddy.” Eight is on your left, and is just as hard. Your entire lower body aches: cunt pulsing and throbbing for his cock, thighs burning, and ass red and raw, sobbing with every impact.

“These last two are going to be harder, slut, since you forgot to count.” Even with his warning, you aren’t prepared. They are hard and fast, hearing them before you feel them, knocking the breath out of you, and you try to scramble up, but Bucky holds you down. “Don’t run away from me, you know better.” All of a sudden, the sharpest and most excruciating pain blooms from your cunt, and then you hear the wet smack of his metal hand hitting your core. 

You wail, body shooting up, legs fighting to close to soothe the sting left. Before you can, Bucky’s hand on the back of your head keeps you to the ground, while he slams his cock into your cunt, not stopping to let you adjust. “That’s it, fuck. Such a good pussy. Dirty fucking bitch.” You can’t breathe, his cock is knocking all of the air out of your lungs. The only sounds in the room are Bucky’s moans and the wet slapping of skin, his heavy balls banging against your sore clit. With each thrust you’re sure he’s hitting your cervix.

The hand on the back of your head leaves to grab your hip, letting him fuck you even faster, the both of you sliding further and further on the floor. You try to brace yourself with your hands, but the brutality of his fucking is no match. “Daddy, fuck, s-so g-good, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but your cunt is pulling him in, barely letting him pull out.

Bucky is practically chasing you on the floor, hips never slowing down, eyes trained on your pussy, loving the creamy white mess on his dick. “Fuuuck, look at the ass bouncing on daddy’s cock, shit! Love the way this fat fucking ass looks when its all red and sore.” He’s in heaven, with the tight clench of your cunt wrapping around his cock, making him feel crazy.

“Daddy! I can’t, f-fuck, please, too much!” You’re fucking delirious with pleasure, feeling something twisting inside of you. You searched for something to hold on to, only finding smooth surface, legs locking, body seizing up.

“You can and you will take this dick, bitch. I don’t care if it makes you fucking bleed.” The pressure in your core builds tighter and tighter, all the while, Bucky’s hips never falter, sack still ramming against your clit.The breath is knocked out of you when you feel the most intense orgasm of your life pass through you.

Keening and wailing, you squirt on Bucky’s cock, the sounds of your fucking somehow getting even more wet until the force of your orgasm pushes his cock out. Your body is left twitching. There is a much larger puddle on the floor now - your cum. Bucky could fucking cum at the sight of your pathetic body laying on the ground, body wrought with pleasure. “Fuck, sugar! That was so fucking hot! You squirted all over, shit! I fucking love you so goddamn much.” 

The entire lower half of his body is covered with your cum and Bucky swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around your waist and hulls you over to where he kicked the couch, placing your upper half on the cushions. “You’re so fucking wet now I bet I could slide right into that tight ass, what do you think, slut?” Your core pulses at the thought of his fat cock in your ass, the two of you don’t usually do anal, given how big he is, but you can’t think straight, especially after cumming so hard.

“Yes, daddy. I want your big cock in my ass, want you to fill me up.” Bucky groans at the thought of his excessive load running out of your ass. Leaning back, he ruts against your pussy, gathering more of your slick, before spreading your cheeks with his hands, staring at your puckered hole. He lines his cock up and watches as precum leaks from his tip.

His cock is huge, much longer and thicker than average, and he knows it. Grabbing himself near his tip, he pushes, grunting at the resistance, knowing that this would be much easier if he takes the time to prep you, but you want to be treated like a whore. “You gotta loosen the fuck up, bitch or else I’ll really fucking hurt you. Want this fucking ass so bad, better let daddy in. Cock is too big for this little ass, isn’t it, gonna split you in half, leave you leaking for days.” 

He pushes harder, tip finally popping in, causing searing pain to shoot through you. Crying out, you try to pull forward to escape the burning pain, wiggling further into the couch. Bucky leans over, careful not to push in any further, he knows you need a moment, any other time you would have been fully prepped and he would have slid right in, and wraps his metal hand around your neck, shushing you, “Shhhh, stop being so dramatic.” 

After a few minutes, the pain begins to subside and your breathing calms down. Keeping his hand around your throat, he pushes in, inch by inch, and the pain comes back. You whine into the cushion, every new inch burning more than the last until his hips are flush with your ass. “What the fuck?! Your ass is so fu-fucking tight, shit! Fucking milking my cock, wanna pound this little hole, wanna fucking ruin you.”

Burying his face in the back of your neck, Bucky was taking deep breaths, completely out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight, not when your tight hole was hugging every inch of his cock. You on the other hand, were struggling, it was too much too fast. It fucking hurt, there were tears in your eyes, but your pussy was aching like it wanted more. Your clit throbbed with need, even when your ass was stretched to the brim.

You didn’t want to stop, but you needed a break, before Bucky could move his hips you muttered, “Yellow, daddy, yellow.” The hand on your neck left and Bucky maneuvered his upper body so that he could look you in the eye without moving his cock. His entire demeanor was different, back was your sweet, caring boyfriend. 

“Good girl, daddy’s so proud of you for using your safe word. Shhh, it’s okay, sugar. Do you just need a second to breathe? Take your time, if you need to stop I will.” Bucky caresses your face as he soothes you, bringing you back down. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your ass, driving him insane. He wants to rail you so fucking bad, tip of his cock probably purple by now, but he would never do anything you didn’t want to, more than willing to sit with his cock inside of you until you’re ready or decide to stop.

You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you loosen up and your mind goes fuzzy once again, desperate for him to move. You wiggle your hips, rocking back and forth, instead of pain, blinding pleasure courses through you. “Green, daddy. I’m ready, just needed to get used to your fat cock, want you to pound into me.” Bucky lets out the most sinful groan and stills your hips with his hands.

He starts out slow, easing you into his motions, gradually gaining speed and force the louder your moans get. “Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open. His hips and thighs were wet from when you squirted on him, slapping against your ass, everytime he pulled back a vulgar shlick sound could be heard.

He fucked you faster and harder, staring at where you were connected. “This fucking ass feels incredible. Taking me so well, knew you could do it, fuck. Splitting your tiny ass in half. Oh God!” He could feel his orgasm building up, fighting it off everytime his cum filled sack slapped against your pussy. Letting go of your hips he snarled, “Show daddy how much of a fucking slut you are and bounce that fat ass on his cock.”

You whined, but complied anyway, digging your toes into the floor to get more leverage to keep slamming back on his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and both of your moans completely drowned out the ending of Bucky’s movie, not that either of you cared. Panting and moaning, you kept working yourself on him, feeling another orgasm bubbling up.

Meeting your thrusts, Bucky was rambling, not having one coherent thought in his head, “Look at that, give me that ass, yes! Don’t you dare fucking stop, bitch, want you to milk this cock. Love the way it fucking bounces, never seen anything like it, oh fuck!” He was getting whiny, high pitched moans falling from his lips. He couldn’t help it, his cock was too fucking sensitive and you felt too good. 

“M Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Bucky practically growls, getting up to his feet to squat, not missing a beat while still trusting in you. Every time his pelvis met your ass he whined and whimpered, loving the way it jiggled. He could feel you clenching around him, drawing his own orgasm closer.

“Not until I do. Fucking hold it, bitch.” It seemed impossible, but Bucky fucked you even faster, his hips moving at a ferocious speed. He wanted to cum so fucking bad and your high pitched moans were about to make him bust. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m gonna fucking nut. You want daddy to fill your ass up, huh? God! Fuck, I’m splitting you in two. Uhhh. Balls are so heavy, so much cum. Fuuuuuuck. Daddy’s gonna fill you up, have you leaking.”

His hand wraps around your throat and chokes you, hips still smashing against yours, your orgasm barely being held in. You try to talk, get him to let you cum, but no words come out. Bucky felt his orgasm approach, balls pulling up, “Shiiit, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna flood your ass, you ready, cum with your daddy. Right. Fucking. Now.” Bucky cums with a long, drawn out moan. The feeling of his endless load pouring into your ass sends you over the edge and you cum so hard your vision goes black for a second. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through you. Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily, prolonging both of your orgasms. 

As you both catch your breaths, you feel Bucky begin to soften inside of you, still plugging your hole, stopping his cum from leaking back out. “You were so good for me, sugar. I’m so proud of you.” At those words you feel your bottom lip begin to tremble. Burying your face into the cushions, a sob escapes your throat, all of your emotions finally bubbling over.

Running his hands up and down your back, Bucky soothes you. This was always his least favorite part, seeing you cry. He knows that you’re crying isn’t because of him, but there is always a twinge of fear that shoots through his body, scared that he went too far with you. Bucky pulls out as gently as he can, hissing when the air touches his spent dick, and moves to rest his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap.

Neither of you care that his cum is leaking all over. Bucky will clean the room later, after he takes care of his sweet girl. You cling to him as you sob into his neck, his hands massage your sore cheeks as he whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, you made me feel so fucking good. Can’t even begin to explain how good you felt. There you go, let it out. I’m right here.”

Carefully, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. When he tries to set you down you just cling on harder to him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “I gotta draw us a bath, sugar. You know you have to pee, I’ll be right here when you’re done.” You hesitantly let him go while he draws the bath, putting in your favorite oils. After you pee and wipe, he helps you up so you can wash your hands before sitting you both in the tub.

Bucky sits against the wall of the tub and you curl further into his lap, not wanting any space in between you. Somehow you still aren’t close enough to him, wanting to be surrounded completely by him. Tears are still leaking down your face and even with Bucky’s consuming presence, you can’t seem to pull yourself up to the surface. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around you, making sure that you are as close as possible without him being inside of you.

“Sweets, can you look at me? Want to see those pretty eyes.” You can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to move away. He’s your safe space and you just want to bask in his warmth. “Sweets, please. Can you tell me how you feel? I need to know you’re okay.” You don’t know why that set you off, but all of a sudden more tears escape you, sobs fighting to make their way out.

Bucky’s entire world stops, fear shoots up his spine. He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he hurt you, if he did something that you didn’t want. He knows that you asked him to treat you like a whore, but what if you didn’t want him to go as far as he did? You used your safe word when it got to be too much, but what if you really wanted to say red, not yellow, but wanted to please him, or felt like you had to please him. “Sweetheart, did I hurt you? Did I go too far? Please talk to me.”

Even though you didn’t want to talk, you could hear that he was about to cry. “I’m okay. Just love you so much.” You could feel Bucky relax under you.

“You sure, sweets? I’ve never seen you like this before.” While some of his fears subsided, Bucky was still worried about you.

Picking your head up so you could look him in the eye, you saw just how scared Bucky truly was. “I promise, Buck, I loved every second of it. You made me feel so good and cared for. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” Bucky closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. At that moment, Bucky understood why aftercare was so important. Of course he knew you needed to be taken care of so that you knew how much he loved you, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him feel loved in a way he didn’t know was possible. 

Before the water gets cold you’ve stopped crying, making Bucky feel much better and he washes the sweat and spit off of your face and body, being extra careful with your sensitive pussy and ass. All the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you take turns kissing each other all over.

Bucky feels ten times lighter when he gets a giggle out of you. He knows that there will be days when you need him to treat you like a slut, but you know how much he loves and respects you. He lays you on the bed before grabbing your favorite lotion to put on, being extra careful when it comes to your sore ass, placing kisses in each spot after he's rubbed in the lotion.

 The marks on your face are gone by now, but Bucky still fusses over your skin care routine, knowing you don’t have the energy to complete it. After taking care of you, he climbs into bed and covers the both of you up, still naked but you don’t care. Bucky reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs some chocolate while you feed it to each other. Neither of you say much, but nothing needs said. 

You place kisses on his chest and arms, anywhere that you can reach, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him - Bucky knows. You fall asleep first, not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, Bucky moves you to his chest, cocooning you into him before he falls asleep, your head tucked carefully under his chin, legs tangled together, completely protected by him.

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Hello! I’ve always been curious about the “human in a space shuttle somehow ends up on a cybertronian ship and all the bots are trying to figure out what this random metal this is while the human is terrified” plot.

It would be interesting to see it played out with any character, but for the sake of direction, I’d like to request this with the Lost Light Crew?

It could be vore if that’s what you feel like wrong at the time, but I’d also go for some good ‘ol fearplay.

I apologize if this is too vague, have a good day/night and I love your writing!

Thank you for the request Glitch! I hope this is up to your expectations! I hope you don't mind that I picked specific members of the Lost Light crew to include in this story. Feedback is always appreciated! Have a great day/night as well! :D

Doctor’s (And Scientist’s) Orders

Pairing: IDW Ratchet, IDW Perceptor, and IDW First Aid x Human Reader

Word Count: 3115

Summary: You are a teacher who is being sent from Earth to a colony on Mars. A new life as an educator for the red planet’s children is on your horizon…until you are thrown terribly off course and end up in the bowels of the Lost Light. All seems lost for you when you find yourself injured and cut off from human society, at the mercy of the three Cybertronians who end up finding you and taking you in, whether you want them to or not.

The first thing you hear when you come to is the horrid screeching of your ship's alarms.

  You groan and sit up. Smoke and flickering emergency lights greet you when you open your eyes. Electricity sparks from the stasis tank you were asleep in. Gas spurts from the ceiling, and everything is strewn about with the chaotic air of a tornado that just tore through an entire town.

“Warning,” your ship’s AI urgently alerts. “Breach detected. Damage is collateral. Warning-warning-” It sputters and fizzles out.

  You rub the back of your head and feel something warm and sticky coat your palm. When you pull your hand back to take a closer look, you see blood.

  Shit. That’s not good.

  Standing up makes you feel like you are going to puke. Your head throbs and every breath you take sends piercing pain through your chest. Dragging yourself out of the stasis pod takes longer than it should while black spots dot your vision as you stumble to the dashboard and press your hands against it. “Run ship diagnostics,” you manage to rasp. The voice that struggles to exit your mouth is one you hardly recognize. It is thin and strewn with violent coughs. A metallic taste coats your tongue. More blood.

  The AI glitches as it attempts to answer you. “Severe damage to hull. Severe damage to engines. Severe damage to thrusters. Life support online, but rapidly depleting. Escape pod offline.”

  “Shit,” you breathe. “Try contacting Earth control.”

  “Communications systems offline. Attempting self-repairs. Current status…5%.”

  “How long until repairs are complete?”

  “Estimations indicate repairs will be completed in…5 days.”

  Not good. Not good at all. You push yourself away from the dashboard and take in all that has happened. This was not how the mission was supposed to go. When you were chosen to be sent to Earth’s Mars colony as a teacher for the young children growing up on the red planet, you thought it would be a smooth seven month trip with you peacefully slumbering away in stasis. You were supposed to be woken up by fellow human beings, not a devastating crash resulting in your ship being decimated. Something must have thrown you off course. A freak asteroid strike probably. Which begs the question…where exactly are you?

  Ignoring how much pain you are in, you hobble through the remains of the vessel and head for the airlock doors. They remain tightly shut when you make it to them, hiding the knowledge of where you are from view. “Open the doors,” you call out to the ship.

  “Warning. Remaining onboard is strongly recommended. Current exterior environment is unknown.”

  “Override. Open the doors.”

  The doors whoosh apart. You know there’s oxygen outside. If there hadn’t been, the ship would have prevented you from even entering the airlock chamber in the first place. Stepping off, you expect to see the barren landscape of Mars, or the alien environment of some other planet you might have ended up on. Part of you thinks you might still be on Earth; perhaps something went wrong with the ship before you could even break the Troposphere.

  What you see surprises you. You are in some sort of…massive cargo hold.

  Gigantic metal crates surround you, most of them exuding a pinkish glow. There are lights on the ceiling far above you, but they are dim, and serve little aid in giving you an estimate of just how large this place is. Turning in a circle, you feel awe fill you. “Yeah,” you murmur to yourself. “The ship definitely didn’t crash on Mars.”

  Speaking of your ship…you take in the damage. It's an absolute mess of warped, crippled metal doomed to remain collapsed on its side until self-repairs are complete. It would take days, maybe even weeks, for damage of this caliber to be fixed beyond the communications systems. With no way to contact Earth or Mars, you truly are stuck.

  You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Calm. You are calm. There is absolutely nothing to worry about. Yes, your ship is destroyed. Yes, you are suffering from critical wounds. Yes, you are in an unknown place with seemingly no way out. But you're alive. That’s what matters. And now you just have to survive for five more days.

  You hear thumping in the distance.

  It takes you a moment to register the pattern of heavy steps that are coming towards you. It’s something alive, you realize with dawning horror. Wherever you are, you have obviously made quite a racket, and now this planet’s local faunal residents are going to seek you out. There’s no way for you to know exactly what sorts of animals live here; any technology you might have used to your advantage is directly connected to the ship. With the ship offline, thus go the tools as well. You are completely in the dark, relying only on the little information about alien lifeforms you have to keep you safe.

  You don’t need that information to know you have to hide right now.

  You scurry back into the ship, biting back a shout of pain. God, there’s pain everywhere. How have you not passed out yet? Adrenaline does wonders for the human body, you sourly think to yourself when you have to lean against the wall to catch your breath. A hacking cough swells within your chest. When you cover your mouth with your elbow and release it, blood is splattered over your suit sleeve.

  That’s when you hear the growling.

  It’s unlike anything you have ever heard before. You’ve studied a multitude of animals. You’ve heard big cats roar, wolves howl, hyenas cackle, and birds screech. This is not a growl you can associate with any of those. It…holds similar qualities. But there’s something about it that remains blatantly off.

  It sounds strangely like the growl of a machine.

  You look outside of the airlock doors, and something huge lumbers out from behind a stack of crates. The first things your brain registers are its red and white armor platings, its bright blue eyes, and the horn-like finials extending from its forehead. It’s humanoid, yet possesses qualities that remove it from any such grouping. This thing is definitely not like you in any sort of way beyond having a face and walking on two legs.

  “It’s…a robot,” you whisper. It’s a giant fucking robot moving all on its own, and looking none too happy to be here.

  The mechanical creature snarls, lips upturning to reveal sharp canines that are probably longer than your arms. It hasn’t noticed you yet. Its focus is trained on the datapad it holds in its hands. Your mind is blown. This is obviously a member of a clearly intelligent race. Have you just discovered a new extraterrestrial species?

  The robot looks up. At first, its eyes scan the crates around you, and it doesn't seem to notice the little ship nestled between them. You remain still, prey instinct taking its course and demanding you freeze where you are. Hopefully it will just move on…

  It backtracks, and to your utter horror, it makes direct eye contact with you.

  Fucking shit, you think.

  The robot stares at you with an expression of pure shock. You stare right back with an equal amount of terror.

  It steps towards you. That’s all it takes for you to scream at the ship. “Close the airlock doors! Close them now!”

  The doors slam shut. You hear a shout from the robot, and everything shakes as it thunders forward. You stumble and fall with agony ripping through your poor body when you make contact with the floor. The cry that leaves you is riddled with pain.

  “A-Activate self-defense protocol!” you order the ship.

  “Self-defense protocols offline,” it says back.

  “Well, how long until they are online?!”

  “Estimated time equals…ten hours.”

  “That’s not enough!” you scream rawly.

  A gentle tapping echos from the other side of the doors.

  You push yourself back, heart pounding as you listen to the robot move all around you. It’s growling softly to itself, and you can hear it touching the ship, running massive mechanical fingers across the walls that act as the only barrier between you and potential doom.

  You don’t know what to do. Panic makes you frantic and you desperately try to think of how you can get yourself away from the monster outside. You have no way to defend yourself. You can’t even run. This thing wants you out, and you know it has the power to rip your ship apart in order to get to you if it wishes for it.

  Suddenly, everything rocks. Your stomach drops when the entire ship shakes and you feel it being lifted into the air. Realization of what is happening hits you: it’s picking it up. If it can’t get you, it’ll just have to take everything.

  “Nononono!” you cry out. The ship tips a little, and you slam into a wall with a grunt. “Stop!” You bang your fists against the metal. “Put it down! Put it down now!”

  The robot simply growls in reply. You don’t even know if it hears you. There’s nothing you can do to stop this. You slump back and cover your face as hot, helpless tears finally begin running down your cheeks.

  “What exactly is it?” First Aid asks as he peers down at the mangled hunk of metal sitting before them on the medibay berth.

  “It’s a ship,” Perceptor flatly replies with a silent “What else would it be?” evident in his tone.

  “This is a ship?” First Aid looks horrified. “But it's completely destroyed! How could it have gotten here?”

  “It must have crashed during our last refueling.” Perceptor lays his servos over the top of the ship, examining it closely. He huffs and straightens, looking at Ratchet. “Where did you find it?”

  “The cargo hold,” the medic replies. “I was down there searching for some extra medical supplies I know we have stored. I wouldn’t have seen it if it hadn’t been for what’s inside.”

  “There’s something alive in there?” First Aid gasps.

  “A human,” Ratchet replies. “It locked itself inside when it saw me.”

  “Impossible.” Perceptor shakes his helm. “Humans are an endangered species that only occupy a small sector of a primitive solar system. They don’t have the technology to make it this far out in space.”

  “Well, clearly they do. I know what I saw. These old optics aren’t that far gone.” Ratchet raps his knuckles gently against the ship. All three mechs have to lean in close so they can hear the soft squeak from inside.

  “How do we get it out?” First Aid asks. “It could be hurt!”

  “It is hurt,” Ratchet answers. “I saw it before it hid itself away. I don’t know how severe the injuries are, but I know it's in pain.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? We need to help it!” First Aid presses his forehelm against the ship and whispers softly. “Hello, little human? Please don’t be afraid! We aren’t going to hurt you!”

  A whimper is all he gains in reply.

  Perceptor crosses his arms. “I can force it out, but you won’t like how I do it.”

  “You can’t hurt it,” Ratchet sharply snaps. “That would be cruel.”

  “I’m not going to hurt it,” the scientist bites back. “I’m simply going to pump a nontoxic gas into the ship that will cause it to eventually lose consciousness. It will have no choice but to come out, and then we can go on from there.”

  “Are…are you sure?” First Aid wrings his servos nervously. “I don’t want it to be scared of us.”

  “Whether it’s scared of us or not doesn’t matter,” Ratchet says. “It’s injured, and if we don’t do something, it’ll succumb to those injuries. It’ll understand we don’t want to hurt it after we patch it up.” He nods to Perceptor. “Go ahead, smoke it out.”

  The scientist’s right servo transforms into a syringe. Ratchet watches with anxiousness churning in his tank as Perceptor presses his left index digit against the side of the ship and presses a small hole straight through with little resistance to stop him. A terrified shout from the human within causes First Aid to whimper.

  Perceptor sticks the upper part of the syringe into the hole, pumping gas into the ship and pulling it back out after a moment, wisps of vapor trailing from the tip. A few seconds later Ratchet hears a string of weak coughs from inside. There is a tense moment where all three of them stand there, and then the doors open and you stumble out with a cloud of gas nearly enveloping your tiny form. You wheeze into your servos, then notice the mechs staring at you and try sprinting right back into the ship. Perceptor cuts you off, slamming his servo down and pinning you under his digits before dragging you back even though you yelp and thrash. You squirm one last time in his grip before suddenly going limp.

  Perceptor gently shifts you to lie in the center of his palm. For a terrifying moment, Ratchet thinks you are offline when he sees how still you are with your optics closed. But then his sensors pick up on the rapid beating of your organic spark, and he relaxes. Not dead. Just simply unconscious.

  “Give it here.” He holds out a waiting servo. Perceptor hands you over; you are given a quick look-over as Ratchet scans your body. There is a nasty cut on the back of your helm, and your vents are gravely bruised with terrible red marks. “Internal bleeding,” he mutters. “As well as external wounds. The crash really messed it up.” He curls his digits lightly over you and brushes his thumb over your forehead. “Doesn’t have a fever though, which is good. Damage is minimal, nothing life threatening. I can have it fixed in a few hours.”

  “You know how to heal organics?” First Aid questions.

  “I’ve been around for a long time. War changes you. I’ve had my equal share of saving Decepticon-ravaged planets inhabited by organics as well as machines.” Ratchet walks over to another berth, being careful not to jostle you too much. “First Aid, go grab the restrainers. We’ll have to keep it still so it doesn’t accidentally hurt itself when it wakes up.”

  “You’ll have to keep it sedated too,” Perceptor says. “I can help with that. Just a little puff of the gas will keep it asleep.”

  “Thank you,” Ratchet says, then pauses. “Listen. Don’t tell anyone about this yet. I don’t want everyone flocking into the medibay and stressing it out. We could accidentally scare this thing to death if we aren’t careful.”

  “I won’t.” Perceptor nods. “Just…make sure it heals properly. I don’t doubt your expertise, but…” He looks down at you, and his optics soften. “It hurts my spark to see something so small in so much pain.”

  First Aid returns with the restrainer. It’s a small mechanism that runs on magnetic power, created by the Lost Light’s resident mad scientist, Brainstorm himself. Ratchet places it directly over your lax form. With a quiet beep, it presses lightly over your midsection, and magnetic bindings weigh down your ankles and wrists. Seeing you trapped like this makes him feel guilty. This obviously isn’t going to be something you will like when you wake up. But there’s no other way for this to go. You won’t understand his good intentions until he heals you. Until then, he has to keep you still.

  He grabs a small serum of glowing blue liquid and bends over you, gently pinching your little fleshy cheeks and working your intake open. “C’mon little one, drink up,” he whispers when he carefully forces the liquid down your throat. He sees your faceplate tighten with discomfort, but your throat pulses as you subconsciously swallow. “There you go. Good human, good human.”

  “What are you giving it?” First Aid asks.

  “Something I learned to make back in my early days,” he replies. “It heals from the inside. Works on both organics and machines.” He pats your cheeks praisingly and draws away. “There. That should help with the bleeding. It’ll be fine now. I’ll continue to monitor it over the next few days.”

  First Aid exhales a relieved sigh. Perceptor reaches out a tentative hand and brushes your hair away from your closed optics. “It’s so small…so soft…”

  “We have to be careful with it,” First Aid frets. “We don’t want it to break.”

  “Listen.” Ratchet’s tone hardens authoritatively. “I said this before, but I’ll say it again. We have to keep this between the three of us. Don’t tell anyone about a human being in here.”

  “But what about the captain?” First Aid asks. “Shouldn’t he know?”

  “The captain can’t know. If he finds out there's a human on the ship, he’ll go nuts with excitement and probably end up accidentally crushing the poor thing. Until I confirm it’s not going to drop dead at any moment, we keep it a secret. Got it?”

  Both bots nod. Ratchet nods with them. “Alright. I’m going to stay here and make sure it’s condition remains stable. You can come back tomorrow to check in on it and see how it’s doing.”

  Perceptor dips his head and leaves without another word. First Aid lingers, optics never leaving you.

  “It’ll be fine,” Ratchet reassures him. “I’ll take care of it. Go recharge.”

  It takes a lot for the other medic to step back and exit the medibay. Ratchet watches him go, then sighs and drags a servo over his faceplate. Becoming the caretaker of an injured organic lifeform was not something he had planned for today. Primus, how the hell am I going to tell Rodimus?

  A soft noise drags his attention away from the alarming thought of what might happen if the extroverted captain learns about his new “crewmate.” He looks down at you and startles a bit. Your eyes, foggy and unfocused, are staring right at him. There’s a fatigued expression of utter terror on your face that once again has his spark feeling like it's been ripped from his chassis and stomped on.

  “You’ll be okay,” he whispers to you. “I promise.”

  You close your eyes and let your helm loll to the side. Ratchet watches the soft rise and fall of your chassis for a few moments longer, then dims the medibay lights and returns to his previous work on the other side of the room.

  Never do you stray far from his mind.

[pr0cyon-lotor]

Cuteness Aggression: Fuh'fin's first time meeting humans

The Yimex were respected warriors on the intergalactic scene. They are apex predators by galactic standards. Their muzzles were filled with sharpened teeth fit for ripping flesh apart or even incapacitating their prey. Their agility was unmatched by even most machinery. Their sharp and attentive eyes could see more clearly in dark environments, especially thanks to their mask-like fur pattern.

 

By all means, they were terrifying to every other race. But since their inclusion in the galactic council, they've pulled back on their once-feral nature. Once they met more alien races and realized they held the same beliefs as their people, they agreed to join.

 

The Yimex were terrifying beyond a doubt, but they had honor. They only attacked if they were threatened, and they wouldn't lose. That's why they were so respected throughout the greater galaxy. They also started taking jobs as protectors and guards for other races.

 

The Yimex were highly intelligent and could learn how to use tools and weapons rather quickly. And they also had a grand sense of protectiveness, especially toward smaller creatures and their own. They were gentle protectors once one got over the initial fear.

 

Fuh'fin was a Yimex. He was a guard sent to escort a crew of the newer race added to the council. Humans, if he remembered correctly. He hadn't heard much about them other than that they were apparently considered apex predators, much like the Yimex. Their intelligence was revered by many; however, their biology was much smaller and unfit for war.

 

Ambush predators perhaps? How interesting...

 

Fuh'fin couldn't deny that he was quite excited to meet these humans. He was always interested in meeting other beings from different races. The Yimex were social by nature, and by his understanding, this job was going to be a rather long one. He was excited, yet worried that these humans wouldn't share his excitement.

 

From what he saw, their politicians were quite serious. What if their entire race was like that? Fuh'fin hoped they weren't. He hated jobs that were quiet and purely business. Yes, he could bear it, but it was agony. The Yimex were energetic and always eager to socialize. He hoped this new race would share that desire.

 

Well, no mind to that. He had to seem proper. He had to seem serious; he was working.

 

Fuh'fin walked along with his supervisor. He had to look up at him while he explained this assignment. Yimex were naturally quadrupedal, although they could stand bipedal, but it wasn't very comfortable.

 

"These humans are from a carrier company on earth. Apparently, they wanted to have a guard just in case. They seemed rather eager to have you come with them for whatever reason," Fuh'fin's supervisor said plainly while looking forward.

 

"May I ask why?" Fuh'fin felt a bit curious about why he was picked. Not that he wasn't a good guard. It's just other races; we're still quite scared of the Yimex. It's not every day that he is asked for a job that's not life or death.

 

"They said you reminded them of a creature on their home planet," his supervisor said with a shrug. They did seem as curious as Fuh'fin felt. Maybe he should ask once he meets the captain.

 

Fuh'fin looked over at the ship they were approaching. Sleek and minimalist on the outside, giant thrusters on its side—rather intimidating, if you ask Fuh'fin. Serious and slightly terrifying.

 

Fuh'fin looked over at the letters on the ship's side. His translator worked quickly and translated the text as "USS Bartholomew". Was that a warrior from their race? He wasn't sure about the humans, but many ships from other races are named after warriors. It was interesting; maybe that was something Fuh'fin could use as a conversation starter.

 

Footsteps took Fuh'fin away from his thoughts. He looked over, and finally he saw the human,who he guessed was the captain. He had an expression that Fuh'fin was told meant the human was feeling positive. A smile, if he remembered correctly.

 

"Good day. I'm the captain of the USS Bartholomew," the human said with a calm tone. He brought his hand out to Fuh'fin's supervisor. It was a human greeting, a sign of peace. "The pleasure is mine, captain," his supervisor said plainly, shaking the human's hand.

 

Ah! He should shake his hand as well. After all, it was a greeting. Fuh'fin finally stood on his hind legs. The Yimex were long-bodied, so once they stood on their hind legs, they towered overall.

 

Usually, that terrified other races—a tall, looming predator looking down on you. Yet, this human didn't react more than a slight widening of the eyes. Except it wasn't in fear. Fuh'fin saw the humans' pupils dilate when they looked at Fuh'fin. Wasn't that something that happens to humans when they see something attractive or pleasing to the eye?

 

The human made a coughing sound and trained their face into a calm expression. Yet Fuh'fin could smell dopamine suddenly. A black market stimulant, but he was told humans release it when they're happy. What a strange race!

 

"I'm Captain Gonzalez," the human said with a smile as they extended their hand. Fuh'fin shook the hand with his paw. He could feel the human's heart beat accelerate as his paw pads made contact with the human's hand. The smell of dopamine increased and is now joined by the scent of oxytocin. Another black market stimulant: how many black market substances do humans produce naturally?

 

"I'm Fuh'fin of the Yimex, Captain Gonzalez," Fuh'fin says with a calm tone. The captain stared at him for a moment before their eyes suddenly gained the light of consciousness again. "You– you are a part of the crew; you can call me Hugo," the captain said with a nonthreatening sound, a laugh?

 

"Come with me; I'll show you around," the captain said with a smile, waving his hand for Fuh'fin to follow him. Fuh'fin settled again on his four legs and followed the captain. They boarded the ship.

 

In the new environment, Fuh'fin sniffed around as they walked. He was trying to get used to the new smells. As the captain led Fuh'fin through the corridor, a sweet scent reminded him of the fruit of his mother planet. Subconsciously, Fuh'fin let out a few dooks of happiness.

 

Then a loud metallic sound startled Fuh'fin. He whipped his head around toward the captain and smelled him. The smell of blood filled the air. "Captain! What happened?" Fuh'fin stood on his hind legs to grab the captain's shoulders.

 

The captain had punched a wall. It was pure metal, yet he left a dent. Was he angry at Fuh'fin for making a sound? No, the smell of dopamine was strong. He was happy, but why would he punch a wall?

 

"Captain?" Fuh'fin said softly. He heard Hugo take a deep breath, and then he moved his hand away. "Sorry, cuteness aggression," he said with a smile. He cradled his hand with his non-broken one. Blood spilled from his knuckles.

 

Cuteness aggression? What was that? Why would it merit punching a wall? Why was he feeling it?

 

"Let's take this time to show you the medical deck and get you a new guide while I get patched up," the captain said with a laugh. He walked calmly, like he hadn't just broken his hand and left a dent on a metal wall. How was he so calm? Any other creature would be writhing in pain, yet he walked easily, like it was nothing.

 

Fuh'fin followed him, slightly panicked. "Captain! Why are you so calm? Aren't you in pain?" He asked with worry. "Once the adrenaline crashes, it's going to hurt like a bitch, but I'm fine so far," the captain said easily.

 

Now that he mentioned it, adrenaline was strong in the air. Was he producing this chemical?

 

Before Fuh'fin could ask anything else, they reached the medicine deck. "Doc! I need your assistance and a new guide for our new guy," the captain said pleasantly to a woman writing something. She looked up with a blank expression and then locked eyes with Fuh'fin.

 

She let out a shriek. Fuh'fin recoiled. Did he scare this human? He didn't make any moves that should be considered threatening. The captain seemed unbothered by him. What did he do? Was it his muzzle? Only predators have muzzles. Yeah, it's probably his muzzle. This human probably recognized him as a predator. Should he apologize?

 

Fuh'fin panicked as his eyes darted around to think of a way to apologize for scaring her, yet she squealed. "He's adorable! Oh my God! He looks like a giant ferret!" The human squealed and ran over with a large smile... She wasn't scared?

 

...Wait, adorable?

 

The human woman dropped to her knees and started petting Fuh'fin. He just froze, trying to make sense of what he heard.

 

"He's so cute! I love him! This is the guard you hired? Can we keep him?" The human said it with... excitement? Dopamine and oxytocin were basically pouring out of her as she ran her hands through Fuh'fin's fur. She wasn't scared. She wasn't scared at all.

 

"Uh— uhm... H-hello?" Fuh'fin tried speaking. As confused as he was, the captain needed medical attention. He barely got appointed to this crew; he couldn't just let his captain stay hurt.

 

The human squealed in delight, and Fuh'fin could basically see stars in her eyes. He felt flustered. "The—The captain..." Fuh'fin felt shy; he was so used to other races being terrified of him. Yet here was a human who seemingly adored him just for existing. "He—he's hurt," Fuh'fin finally spat out.

 

"Huh?" The human said it absently and looked at the captain. Her eyes widened, and she stood up suddenly. "Shit! Sorry, captain! Please sit down," she said frantically while picking up a medical carrier. The captain sat down, and the woman started to tend to his hand.

 

Fuh'fin sat next to the captain and curled his tail around himself. How was the captain so calm? He even looked amused, but it was hard to tell. Fuh'fin wasn't the best at reading expressions; the Yimex didn't have facial expressions. They relied on body language to communicate emotion.

 

The captain's body language has not changed from his confident yet relaxed posture. Humans were confusing. The human woman was so open with her body language, but the captain wasn't. They were at different places on the spectrum. Fuh'fin needed to get better at understanding inflection and facial expressions then.

 

The captain patted Fuh'fin's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm fine, Fuh'fin," he said with a smile. Fuh'fin was curious how the captain noticed his worry, and then he noticed he was chittering nervously. "My apologies," Fuh'fin murmured, and he decided to try to calm himself.

 

Fuh'fin shook his head to fix his untidy fur. He settled down comfortably and started grooming himself. He fixed his unruly fur as he waited for the captain to get patched up. He finally rested his paw on the ground and looked at the captain.

 

"Sorry, Fuh'fin, Mina gets excited when she sees fluffy animals," he said with an amused expression. He had noticed Fuh'fin grooming himself. "Better than fear," Fuh'fin said quietly, his ears flattened against his head. "True, much better than fear," the captain said with an understanding tone, like he completely knew what Fuh'fin meant.

 

Something about the captain's words comforted Fuh'fin. "Why aren't you scared of me?" He asked while turning his head to look at the humans. "You remind us of an earth creature, but much bigger," Mina replied. "Is that animal a predator as well?" Fuh'fin asked. "Yes, but we think they're adorable." Mina smiled in delight, clearly reminiscing.

 

"So you think I'm adorable? Even though I'm much bigger than you?" Fuh'fin said with confusion, and his tail whipped a bit in mild frustration. "Actually, you being huge is really satisfying the monkey brain in us," the captain said with amusement. "You are very huggable," the captain said quietly as his uninjured hand quickly typed something on a tablet before setting it down.

 

Huggable? The captain wanted to hug Fuh'fin. No one except other Yimex has ever expressed that desire. It was acceptance of one's nest in Yimex society. Was Fuh'fin accepted? The prospect made him happy. Only the other Yimex accepted Fuh'fin.

 

"So... you aren't scared of me at all?" Fuh'fin said cautiously. "Oh, no, no, no. You look absolutely adorable to us," the captain said while Mina splinted his hand.

 

"Adorable... Huh... I've never been called adorable before," Fuh'fin said softly. Happiness filled him; he was truly accepted then. Without realizing it, he started dooking. "The cuteness aggression is hitting again," the captain said quietly. Mina laughed and nodded her head.

 

Fuh'fin looked at the captain, still dooking. "What's cuteness aggression?" He tilted his head while he spoke. "Something too cute makes our brain produce too much happy chemical, so it confuses the brain and activates the fight or flight reflex," Mina explained simply.

 

Fuh'fin sniffed the air slightly, and as Mina explained, the smell of dopamine was strong in the captain. "Did I cause it?" He asked with mild worry. "Is that why you punched the wall?" Fuh'fin asked the captain.

 

"Yeah, I don't blame you, though," the captain said calmly. "I didn't want to make you uncomfortable by asking to pet you or something. I want you to feel comfortable with us," the captain explained. Fuh'fin's nose twitched; that was basically an invitation to their crew... their nest.

 

Fuh'fin rubbed his muzzle against the captain's shoulder. He accepted the invitation as per Yimex standards. He felt the captain's hand hesitate before he pet Fuh'fin's head.

 

"I'm guessing this means you're comfortable with us," the captain said with a quiet laugh. "Yes, I'm comfortable," Fuh'fin said softly, dooking in joy. "We'll tell the crew to keep their hands to themselves until you're comfortable with everyone," the captain said with a smile.

 

~~~

 

The captain was patched up and forced to sit down and relax. Mina had taken it upon herself to finish the tour of the ship. She showed Fuh'fin around and introduced everyone that stopped by to greet him. They all seemed beyond excited when they saw Fuh'fin, but he guessed the captain had already told them not to touch Fuh'fin until he was fully adjusted to everything.

 

Fuh'fin met around half the ship, as Mina told him. He quite liked a tall human woman who went by Vi-Vi. She had bright red hair with yellow tips; it reminded him of a flower on his mother planet, and she smelled of a human fruit, as Vi-Vi told him, strawberries.

 

He liked the smell; it was sweet. Vi-Vi stuck out from everyone else, not because of her hair or height, but because she had a robotic prosthetic arm and paintings on her other arm. She seemed completely different from the crew Fuh'fin met; her energy radiated leadership just like the captain's.

 

Yet she was sweet, just like the scent of strawberries that followed her. She excused herself and left to return to her job. When Vi-Vi left, Mina continued showing him around.

 

Once the tour was done, a ring came from the speakers. "Oh, it's time to go to sleep," Mina said pleasantly. Fuh'fin then noticed he was getting tired as well; it was smart to get into his cot before he just dropped from exhaustion.

 

"Where should I sleep?" Fuh'fin asked with a yawn. "Oh, yeah, let me show you your room," Mina said excitedly. Oh, he had a room. He wasn't used to that; usually he was bunked with a bunch of other crew members in his other jobs. He liked sleeping with others around; it felt safe.

 

Fuh'fin followed Mina with interest. She stopped in front of a door, and it slid open. "I did some research on the Yimex, so your room would be comfortable," Mina said with a smile. "And I read that the Yimex like sleeping in groups, correct?" "Yes, it feels nice," Fuh'fin answered, curious what this was leading to.

 

"We don't have other Yimex on board; instead, we put three other crew members in your room, and we'll give you plenty of blankets and pillows for you to make a comfortable nest," Mina said with a smile. Fuh'fin peeked into the room with mild excitement.

 

"You can move anything around to your comfort," Mina said while she watched Fuh'fin look inside. The room had a weird layout. It had random platforms sticking out of the walls, along with pedestals sticking out of the floor. It looked a bit like a jungle gym, and the floor was cushioned.

 

He walked into the room while looking around. "You can get comfortable anywhere, and we'll get you anything you need," Mina said with a smile as she saw Fuh'fin starting to climb around the pedestals and platforms. She was glad she researched this. Yimex apparently didn't like closed-off spaces but liked running around, so this room was designed with that in mind.

 

Fuh'fin splooted on a platform comfortably and yawned. Mina laughed when she saw his tail wag. "I'll come back with blankets so you can get properly comfortable," she said with a small laugh. Fuh'fin's tail wagged a bit more.

 

Mina came back with what Fuh'fin presumed to be his roommates and blankets. Fuh'fin climbed down to greet them and noticed that Vi-Vi was a part of the group. Mina introduced the other two to Fuh'fin. Matthew, a man with a sly smile and smart eyes. Jenny, a woman with a tired expression but gentle eyes.

 

Fuh'fin greeted them, and Mina gave him a few blankets and pillows. He picked them up with his mouth and climbed up to the spot where he felt comfortable. Mina bid them good night and left. While everyone got comfortable and established their spots, they spoke about random topics.

 

Vi-Vi had climbed on another platform and arranged her pillows and blankets. Matthew picked a small corner the pedestals created—a small, crowded place—yet he seemed pleased... At least Fuh'fin thought he did; Matthew was near impossible to read in comparison to everyone else. Jenny settled underneath one of the platforms; it was the darkest place in the room.

 

Fuh'fin fell asleep while he heard everyone speaking. He couldn't fight sleep at all, so he just crashed. However, he felt comfortable. Everyone was so pleasant; he liked it. He liked this job. He liked being a part of this nest. He hoped they liked him as well.

[dotster001]

Quiet End

A/N: Your first non canon, custom content end is here! I've tagged everyone from the of tag list, and everyone who voted for this particular end. If you wanna add your vote for the next one, you can do so in the comments here.

Chapters: Part One Part Two Part Three Choose Another ending

You have to do this! It's all you've been talking about for a week!"

"I just can't!"

Idia was all dressed in a suit and bow tie, but stubbornly standing outside the door to the restaurant. Ortho gave him a pleading look.

"Idia! Come on! Pull it together! You'll always regret it if you don't go in there!"

As Idia was about to send out another string of curses, when an angry Grim, wearing a bow tie, and holding a clipboard, slammed open the door and stomped over to Idia.

"Shroud, pull yourself together or, I swear to the seven, Ashengrotto and I will have a reconciliation, and you'll never have another chance with Y/N!"

With that shout out of his system, he stormed back into the restaurant, probably to try and tell the band and you that "your date" was still coming.

Idia was still frozen, but now it wasn't just out of social anxiety, it was the anxiety that if he blew tonight, he blew any chance of future nights with you.

"Okay, that's it," Ortho said, pushing Idia.

"No…"Idia said through gritted teeth.

"Initiating thrusters," Ortho said, and Idia heard the thrusters kick in, and felt Ortho's pushing get significantly stronger.

"No, no no!"

Once Ortho had pushed him through the door, he let him go, and escaped back out, leaving Idia to make eye contact with you and the band. A smile bloomed across your face, and you waved at him.

Idia took a steadying breath, and robotically walked over to your table, taking a seat.

"Sorry I'm late," he muttered.

"It's totally fine! I'm just happy that you're my date. The last date Grim set me up on was with Azul, and, well, I'm sure you heard how that went."

Idia nodded. The entirety of NRC had heard the story of how Grim had been roped into a contract with Azul, so that Azul could date you. Only a select few knew the truth, though.  Azul had begun construction on a second branch, which meant his income was slightly lower this quarter. And Grim wasn't that good at business math. Which meant Idia was in.

"You're happy it's me?" He asked, unable to hold eye contact with you.

"I mean, yeah. Of course I'm happy it's you! I like you. Quite a lot," you grinned, and his hair turned a deep red as he buried himself in his hoodie like a turtle.

As if the moment couldn't get anymore overwhelming, you looked over your shoulder at Grim, who was yelling at the singer in the band, and then leaned in enough that he could deeply inhale your scent.

"Wanna get outta here?"

….

The two of you were quietly walking along campus. Neither of you spoke, but neither of you needed too. It was a comfortable silence.

At length, Idia muttered," I quite like you, too."

You looked startled, but then smiled happily.

"I'm so happy, Idia. Thank you."

"Why? I'm just a loser otaku, with freaky blue hair…"

"Sevens, Idia! You're sweet, you're smart, you're funny, and despite how you feel, you're quite hot. Like that jawline could cut glass, dude."

He looked at you, not convinced.

"My god, I have to do everything around here," you said with a groan, before grabbing his face and kissing him.

His eyes widened in shock, but as he watched, you seemed to be enjoying the kiss. So he closed his eyes, and just took you in, letting the moment be.

"Y/N! Shroud!" 

You separated, and he couldn't stop himself from chasing your lips, until he realized that the angry sound was Grim.

"Both of you skipped out on your rather expensive date, so I just had to pay the bill. I expect rapid reimbursement."

You raised an eyebrow at Grim, then rolled your eyes.

"Whatever, Grimmy. Your money comes from me anyway."

"Don't sass me! This has been a rather stressful evening! We're going home, and neither of you gets to see each other until you've learned your lesson."

He stormed off, and you made to follow, but not before leaning in to Idia and whispering, "Let's do this in your room next time."

His heart was so full as he watched you leave, a dreamy sigh on his lips.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic @supertmntgirl @cxsmicdustdreams @aethermostbeloved @krystalkiller25 @asmallbean3 @theneurodivergentdummy @candlewitch-cryptic @smilingfox22-blog @phantomgaming1920 @the-dumber-scaramouche @noidonothavetimeforthis @bontensbabygirl @xxoomiii @somany-fandoms-solittle-time @bre99 @stupidsimp @sus0daddy @a-small-tyrant @imlost-sendhelp @mizukiblogs @i-like-forgs @astral-ami @homestuckotaku

[webslinger-holland]

Best Pilot in the Galaxy | Tech from The Bad Batch

Summary: During a mission, Tech has a hard time allowing his ship to be driven by someone else.

Warning: slight angst and argument

Pairing: Tech x Fem!Reader Pilot

Type: Oneshot

The Marauder was sitting on a world in the Outer Rim called Cassander. It was a lush, green planet with a few major bodies of water. However, most notably, the planet was growing in population and had recently become Ord Mantell's most competitive trading rival.

The ship was nearly empty, except for a singular pilot sitting in the cockpit. She was not the rightful owner of the ship, but had been assigned this mission with the group of rouge clones that did own the ship. The squad was located somewhere in the capital city nearby, attempting to steal the package in which they had come for. The pilot waited patiently for the pickup call.

Now, the pilot had been waiting for nearly two hours for the call to come through the comms. She did everything she could think of to pass the time, which included rummaging through the squad's belongings. Though she didn't find anything of value.

The gonk droid made a noise as he waddled into the cockpit. The pilot went through the ship's log, seeing all the planets the squad had recently visited. Their last stop happened to be Ord Mantell where they were assigned this mission in particular.

"Y/n! Come in," Hunter's voice sounded desperate over the comms. She quickly jolted forward in her seat, pressing the button to relay a message back.

"Read you loud and clear," Y/n responded. She began clicking buttons on the control panel, preparing the ship for liftoff.

"We need a pick up. We've been compromised," Hunter explained. He was panting on the other end of the line, which probably meant they were running.

"What part of stealth mission is so hard to understand?"

"Just hurry. We don't have a lot of time. They're sending air support," Hunter warned her.

"Oh great," Y/n scoffed sarcastically.

"I'm sending you our coordinates," Tech interjected over the communications.

As the Marauder departed off the ground, the landing gear retracted back into the ship. The wings moved downwards as the ship was angled towards the sky. The engine roared to life; the ship began flying towards the rendezvous location.

The workers from the trading post were shooting their blasters at the criminals running away from them. They tried to keep up with them, firing relentlessly as they got away with some of their own goods.

It was Wrecker, Hunter, and Tech who were carrying the heavy cargo in the form of a shipping container. Normally, it would take four guys to carry the cargo, but since Wrecker was so strong, he was able to carry the left side without help. Behind them, Echo and Omega fired shots back at the workers. They covered them as the rest ran as fast as they could.

"Whatever is in here, it better be worth it." Wrecker grunted, dodging the blaster fire.

"As long as we get paid," Hunter responded.

The small squad continued running through the vast forest, maneuvering around trees in hopes of using its coverage to their advantage. They came into a clearing with the workers getting closer each second. All of the sudden, a cliff came into their view which caused them to halt in their place.

"Where's our ride?" Echo asked desperately. He peered around his shoulder with his gun still raised.

"There!" Omega pointed into the sky.

The Marauder rounded the corner of the mountain, coming into their line of view. It flew over to the edge of the cliff to meet them. The ramp lowered to hover right by the cliff, allowing the squad to climb aboard the vessel.

The blaster fire was beginning to hit the sides of the ship. The squad fired back, striking a few of the workers down. Once everyone was aboard, Hunter slammed the button on the side of the wall so the ramp was lifted.

"That's everyone," Hunter shouted. "Get us out of here!"

"Roger that," Y/n said.

Pulling a lever, the thrusters sent a powerful volt back which propelled the ship forward rapidly. By steering the ship, Y/n directed the ship back into the mountain range. She could hear the air support coming up behind them. She took a sharp turn to deter them.

The sharp turn caused each member of the squad to loose their footing and grab something nearby to steady themselves. Carefully, Tech quickly made his way into the cockpit. He leaned over the back of the pilot's seat, resting his hand on the panel for support. He hadn't taken the time to remove his helmet.

"That is sufficient," Tech announced to the pilot. "I'll take it from here."

"A little busy here," Y/n stated instead. She turned the wheel to the left, taking another sharp turn which made everything in the ship turn that way. And Tech ended up leaning a little into her.

"Wrecker," Tech ordered. He moved to sit in the co-pilot seat which was where Echo usually sat. "Get to the tail gun."

There were at least six smaller ships following them at this point, firing as many rounds as possible. The Marauder swayed to the left and right, expertly dodging each blast aimed at them. In the tail gun, Wrecker got into position before firing back at the ships. He managed to hit one of them, but it wasn't enough to bring the ship down.

Back in the cockpit, Tech began pressing a few buttons on the control panel. The pilot glared at him through the corner of her eye, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. She maintained her grip on the sides of the wheel.

"Transitioning controls back to co-pilot," Tech announced. He went to press the final red button, but she swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?" Tech demanded an explanation.

"I know how to fly," Y/n said through gritted teeth. Her eyes were still facing forward as she focused on the task at hand.

"I never said you didn't," Tech informed her. "I am simply stating that I am ready to transition controls back to me as I am more capable of flying this vessel than you. It is my ship after all," Tech said as a matter of factly.

Hunter rolled his eyes in the background. He knew it was pointless to argue over the comment.

"You weren't hired to be the pilot for this mission," Y/n argued back. "I can get us out of this."

With that comment, one of the blaster fires struck the right wing which caused it to catch on fire. The two of them peered out the window, spotting the trail of black smoke falling behind the hit.

"You were saying?" Tech replied. He gestured to the damage done to his ship. She rolled her eyes at him.

A few more ships began trailing behind them. They began firing more shots towards them. There was no way one ship could take the whole fleet down.

"Uh guys," Wrecker announced from the tail gun. "We've got more incoming."

Ignoring the comment, Tech quickly transitioned controls back to his wheel before the other pilot could protest. He gripped the wheel harshly, moving the wheel to take a sharp left hand turn. The ship was forced to swerve around the side of the mountain; a few of the enemy ships crashed into the sides as a result. She switched controls back to her wheel, taking a right hand turn. The ship weaved around another mountainside.

Behind the googles of his helmet, Tech squinted his eyes in slight irritation. He changed controls once again. He quickly grabbed onto the lever, pulling it backwards so the thrusters gave another jolt of energy. Now they were flying a little faster.

Nevertheless, another blaster hit managed to strike the back of the ship. The Marauder jolted forward from the force of the blast. The two pilots lurched forward in their seats. The others continued to hold onto things for support.

"You aren't doing much better," Y/n replied snakily. She reached forward to press the button once more. She turned the wheel as far as she could, which caused the ship to completely turn around. She pulled the lever for the extra push.

"What are you doing?" Tech exclaimed. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

Down in the tail gun, Wrecker began firing at the ships flying directly in front of them. With his expertise, he struck down three ships. Those ships exploded into a million pieces, fierce flames erupting around them. The Marauder flew through the fire without taking damage.

The enemy ships needed to turn around before continuing their chase. They quickly swerved their ships. Once the ships were facing the right way, the thrusters kicked in for that extra power. And the enemy continued their pursuit.

"I will only say this one more time," Tech's modulated voice spoke through his helmet. He turned to face her in his seat. His eyes looked angry behind his googles. "Relinquish controls now."

"Over my dead body," Y/n challenged him. She didn't take her eyes off him.

In the background, Hunter and Echo seemed to raise their eyebrows at the two pilots. They looked between them, half expecting one of them to cave in and go back to flying the ship. But neither of them faltered.

"Uh guys," Omega interrupted them.

Both of them directed their line of attention back towards flying the ship. With a quick maneuver, they managed to dodge the mountain they were heading straight for at the last second. A few more ships crashed into it.

"You're both going to get us all killed if you don't figure something out," Hunter shouted behind them.

Reaching forward, Y/n went to press a few more buttons, but Tech swatted her hand away this time. He went ahead and pressed his own buttons. He was punching in the coordinates for their destination.

"You are not the best pilot in the galaxy," Y/n claimed. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye. He kept putting in the coordinates.

"Hardly a measurable cause," Tech said with a roll of his eyes in annoyance.

"You haven't made the Kessel Run in fourteen parsecs," Y/n added. It was like she was insisting that it could be measurable.

"I have a theory that it can be done in twelve," Tech stated as a matter of factly.

"I highly doubt that," Y/n chuckled at the comment.

Suddenly, Y/n pressed the wheel forward with all of her might. The ship began to descend down at a rapid pace, shifting into a nose dive position. The ground was growing closer and closer with each second. The enemy ships following right behind them, firing non-stop.

Both Hunter and Echo were holding onto panels behind them. The force of falling forwards was pushing them back. They were unable to move.

"You have to pull up--" Tech ordered in a slight panic.

"Oh for the last time," Y/n shouted over him. "I know what I'm doing!"

At the last possible second, the wonderfully skilled pilot pulled the wheel into her chest so that the ship was pulled up. It was so close to touching the ground, but it missed it by a hair. The last two ships crashed into the ground, exploding suddenly and sending debris flying.

Now that the threat of the chase was finally over, Y/n could relax in her seat a little. The rest of the squad was completely silent, realizing that she had managed to get them out of the situation with little damage in the end. Beside her, Tech kept his eye on her since he was still angry with her.

The Marauder started to climb in altitude, shifting towards the edge of the planet's atmosphere. It finally passed through the atmosphere, flying through space. The stars throughout the galaxy sparkled as the planet grew small and smaller. It was now all behind them.

"Are the coordinates to Ord Mantell in?" Y/n wondered. Her voice was so much calmer now. Her shoulders slumped at her sides. But she refused to make eye contact.

"Yes. They are in," Tech informed her softly. His eyes softened behind his helmet. He studied her carefully, trying to figure out what she was thinking in that brain of hers. He quickly shook it off, directing his attention back towards the void of space in front of them.

Without thinking, Tech and Y/n went to reach for the lever to send them into hyperspace. Their hands grazed each other's with neither of them being any closer to the lever than the other. They both awkwardly pulled their hands away upon contact.

"I'm sorry," Y/n muttered under her breath.

He wasn't sure if she was apologizing for the situation they just came out of or the situation that just occurred with the lever. Nevertheless, she reached for the lever once again, pulling it back to send the ship into hyperspace.

Back at Ord Mantell, the Bad Batch went back to Cid's Parlor. They stood on the other side of her desk, having just delivered the cargo that she paid them to retrieve. She peered into the package, checking to make sure everything was there.

Behind the group, Y/n stood there in total silence. Her eyes were trained on the floor as she shifted in her place awkwardly. She waited for their boss to address them.

Beside her, Tech stood about an arm's length away. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, taking note of her odd demeanor. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to say something to her, but he was rudely cut off.

"Looks like everything is here," Cid announced. She closed the cargo container. She began rummaging through her drawers, collecting the correct amount of credits to pay both parties.

Now Y/n went to take a few steps forward and made her way through the members of the squad. She stood in front of the desk. Her boss went ahead and placed a handful of credits in her hand.

"That is your cut," Cid told her. She handed the rest of the credits to Hunter. "And here is your cut. I'll call you when I have another job," Cid claimed.

There was a brief moment of silence in the room. Cid went to cross her arms over her chest. She narrowed her eyes at the company of six standing in front of her.

"You guys work well together," Cid said honestly. "You should work together more often."

In response, Y/n breathed a scoff under her breath. The boys turned their heads to look at her, slightly surprised at her reaction. She shook her head in denial.

"Yeah. Like that's ever going to happen," Y/n rolled her eyes at the notion.

Without hesitation, she spun around on the heels of her feet in order to head towards the door. She purposely bumped into Tech's shoulder a little too harshly. She left the room with the door closing behind her.

"What's wrong with her?" Cid scoffed. She looked at the rest of the squad for some form of explanation, but none of them said anything. "Fine! Be all quiet and mysterious. See if I care," Cid said.

By the time the Bad Batch left Cid's office, Y/n was nowhere to be found in the bar. They went to sit down at the bar so they could order drinks to celebrate another successful mission. They sat in complete silence, thinking about what transpired during the mission.

"Where do you think she's gone?" Echo wondered.

Though they never pulled missions together, the Bad Batch knew that the pilot worked for Cid and was stationed at Ord Mantell. They had seen her quite often over the past few months. They had grown familiar of her. And now they worried about her.

"The odds are that she returned to her flat," Tech explained. He pushed the bridge of his googles up to be more secure on his face. He kept his focus on his data pad.

"Probably," Hunter shrugged his shoulders. "But it's late. Which means it's dark out."

"Astute observation," Tech claimed sarcastically. He gave a single nod, but didn't take his eyes off his data pad.

"And she's walking back to her flat...at the edge of town...late at night," Hunter further explained.

"She will be fine," Tech stated. He knew where he was going with this. "She is always saying how she can take care of herself and doesn't need our help. Why would that change now?"

The other members remained silent. They turned their heads to take quick glances at one another. With a silent agreement, Hunter rose to his feet and went to stand by Tech. He roughly grabbed his shoulders and hoisted him out of his seat, much to his dismay.

"Go find her. Make sure she gets home safe. And apologize to her," Hunter ordered.

"I do not see why I have to be the one to apologize when I did noth--" Tech began. He was quickly cut off.

"Tech," Hunter said in a warning tone of voice. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing that he meant business.

"Fine," Tech said in defeat. "I will apologize."

With some hesitation, Tech grabbed his helmet and fitted it over his head. He began making his way towards the door of the parlor, leaving the rest of his crew behind. He walked through the deserted streets of Ord Mantell, passing a few shady people in the process.

Now Tech knew that she lived near the edge of town because she had once mentioned it during a conversation. Besides that, Tech really didn't know where to look and simply hoped he'd bump into her before she got home so he'd know she was safe. He passed by a few alleys, peeking through each one briefly.

The Marauder was parked in a hanger bay only a few blocks away from the parlor. Just as Tech passed by the hanger, he heard a familiar voice coming from his very own ship. He backtracked by taking two steps backwards. He peered into the hangar bay to glance at his ship.

Stepping into the bay, Tech tilted his head to the side in slight curiosity. The right wing of the ship began to move downwards until it lay completely horizontal. A few seconds later, Y/n began descending down the ramp with a toolbox in hand. She walked over to the wing of the ship.

Upon seeing her, Tech sharply inhaled. He felt the back of his throat close up and his shoulders tensed at his sides. He hesitantly took a few steps forward, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Reaching upwards, Y/n placed the single toolbox onto the flat surface of the ship's wing. She proceeded to grab onto the wing before hoisting herself up onto it. She climbed to the center of the wing to assess the damage inflicted in the crossfire.

At this point, Y/n had no idea that he was also in the hanger bay with her. She opened the toolbox, rummaging through to find the right tool. The damage done to the right wing was a massive gaping hole with burnt edges from the fire. It would eventually need a panel welded to cover it up again. But for now, she focused on the internal repairs.

Thankfully, from the assessment, nothing major had been hit. A few bolts had gotten loose and a few parts needed to be replaced. She focused on that for now.

After grabbing a socket spanner, Y/n leaned down to place her arm into the gaping hole of the wing. It went so far down that her chest was practically pressed against the surface of the wing. She used the spanner to tighten some bolts.

"What...are you doing?" Tech decided to finally announce his presence. He stepped forward until he stood in the light coming from the opening of the hanger bay.

Upon hearing that familiar voice, Y/n only rolled her eyes to herself. She continued her work as she preferred to focus on repairs rather than on him. She grunted softly, making sure that first bolt was nice and tight.

"What do you want Tech?" Y/n wondered. She pulled her arm out of the hole to assess her work. She didn't even bother to glance towards him, knowing he would have sent her a look of disapproval for working on his ship.

Slowly, Tech began to lower his gaze to the floor. He contemplated his next words carefully, fighting the urge to lash out at her for meddling with his ship. He liked things to be a certain way and would have much preferred if he did the actual repairs. Now Tech didn't want to fight with her so he changed his approach.

"I analyzed that you left the parlor on your own and thought it would be better if I accompany you back home," Tech explained. She huffed at his answer.

"I've told you before," Y/n began. "I can--"

"Take care of yourself," Tech finished. He adjusted the lenses of his goggles though he still wore his helmet. He noticed how she fell silent. "Yes, I've gathered that much."

"Why are you really out here?" Y/n wondered. She went to lean down again in order to tighten more bolts.

"I...could ask you the same," Tech replied slowly. He honestly felt like this was the first civil conversation they had ever had.

"I wanted to make some repairs on your precious ship since it was apparently my fault," Y/n claimed. Her tone sounding a little harsher now. She tightened two more bolts in the process.

"That is not what I meant," Tech interjected. He took a step forward. He gazed up at her figure perched on the wing, attempting to reason with her. "I was...caught up in the moment. Shouldn't have said those things," Tech confessed quietly.

"Well, don't worry. As soon as I finish up these repairs, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again," Y/n responded.

For some reason, Tech couldn't combat a response to her comment. He simply nodded his head understandingly. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground and allowed her to finish her repairs in silence. He thought for some time how he could fix this relationship since it wasn't his strong suit. Fixing things was more his style.

"Blast," Y/n's voice pulled him out of his train of thought. He glanced up at her.

The sleeve of her blue flight suit had gotten in the way of her repairs. She had rolled her sleeves up to keep the material out of her way, but the sleeves continued to fall back down to her wrists every time she placed her arm in the hole. She pulled back and rose to her feet.

Without hesitation, Y/n's hands flew to the top button of her flight suit. She began to undue the buttons in which she revealed the black tank top underneath. All the while, Tech studied her carefully as her nimble fingers worked steadily. His pupils dilated behind those goggles of his.

Upon reaching her waistline, Y/n had stopped unbuttoning and shrugged the suit off her shoulders. She tied the sleeves around her waist. She dropped to her knees to continue working without the distraction of her clothes getting in the way.

Slowly, Tech raised his hand to the side of his head and clicked the bottom to save the recording to the drive. He records everything and he was certainly glad he recorded that. He wanted to revisit the recording later for his own 'research' purposes.

"There," Y/n sighed. She sat back on her knees, wiping her dirty hands on the pants of her flight suit. "Repairs are finished."

Naturally, Y/n began to pack away the tools she used and placed them back into the box. She closed the lid of the toolbox, tossing it over the edge of the wing for it to land on the ground with a thump. She then proceeded to jump down off the wing of the ship, landing a little hard so her knees buckled slightly.

Just like she promised, Y/n had every intention of leaving the hanger bay so that they'd never have to see her again. She went to walk away, but just as she passed beside him, Tech reached out and grabbed her forearm. She halted in her steps.

Neither of them could look at each other. She felt his gloved fingers digging into her bare skin, but not hard enough that it would leave marks. She slowly turned to look at him, but he kept his head down.

"I...really came here to apologize," Tech confessed. When Tech lifted his gaze to meet her face, he saw how her eyebrows went up in slight surprise. It definitely caught her off guard.

"I see," Y/n thought about his words carefully. She shifted her balance from one foot to the other. "So all those things you said back on Cassander where just...what?"

He closed his eyes, seriously regretting everything he said. "Like I said earlier, in the moment, I was incredibly frustrated with you."

"Because I wouldn't give up the controls?" Y/n said flatly.

"No, because I recognize that my levels of dopamine are elevated when I'm around you and I distance myself from you in order to prevent that from happening,” Tech confessed before he could even stop himself.

But now, hearing what he just said, Tech quickly averted his gaze away from her. He was thankful to be wearing his helmet so she wouldn't see how bright his cheeks had gotten. He released his grip on her arm, letting it fall back down to his side.

For once, Y/n actually understood what he said. Her eyebrows rose in surprise at this sudden confession. She definitely did not expect him to blurt out his emotions that night, especially after their fight on the ship. She knew better than to tease him at a time like this.

"I-I don't understand why," Tech said rather sadly. That was the first time that he'd spoken those words out loud.

What broke her heart was the tone of defeat laced with his words. It told her that he'd been wrestling with these foreign emotions and thoughts for some time. He didn't know how to react around her and so he acted with defense. He pushed those feeling away, fighting against it.

Hesitantly, Y/n lifted her hands to the sides of his helmet. She went to remove his helmet slowly, revealing his face to her for the first time today. She tossed the helmet to the side without a care in the world, but he still refused to meet her gaze.

"You are probably repulsed by me," Tech began. "From the way I treated you and the words I said to--"

But Tech wasn't able to finish that sentence. Because Y/n had taken his face in her hands and leaned upwards to press her lips against his own. He froze in his place.

His eyes were wide open in surprise. His hands were elevated on either side of him because he didn't know what to do with them. He could feel the softness of her lips still against his own. Before Tech had the chance to process what was happening, Y/n pulled away from him.

The two of them were standing so close together; the chests being pressed against one another's. Their breath mingled as their noses bumped together once or twice. He glanced down at her lips because he wanted nothing more than to taste them once more.

His hands found their way down to her hips with one hand sneaking around her lower back. He pressed that hand into her back which brought her body even closer to his. She released a small gasp.

"Apology accepted," Y/n whispered to him. She played with the edge of the plastoid armor on his chest. "And I'm sorry for the way I acted towards you."

"Why cyare?" Tech wondered. He raised his hand to the side of her face, tucking a single strand of hair behind her ear. He held his hand against her cheek.

"I should have given up the controls. You are the better pilot and it is your ship," Y/n explained with a shake of the head.

"I am not the better pilot," Tech stated firmly.

There was a moment of silence between them. "I can't make split second decisions and calculations like you do when you're flying."

"Well, I've never done the Kessel Run." Tech argued back playfully. He smiled down at her. "At least, not in twelve parsecs."

"Fourteen," Y/n corrected him. "I did it in fourteen."

"Fine. Fourteen," Tech caved in.

Slowly, Tech tilted his head to the side and began to lean down with every intention of kissing her again. But the two of them were interrupted when someone cleared their throat over by the entrance of the hanger bay. The two of them quickly pulled apart and turned to face whoever had interrupted them.

The other members of the Bad Batch stood looking at them near the entrance of the hanger. It was initially Hunter who had cleared his throat to garner their attention; he stood with his arms folded across his chest just as a disapproving father would. Beside him, Wrecker and Omega were practically squealing with each other. They couldn't contain their excitement. And Echo averted his gaze in an awkward manner.

"Care to explain yourselves?" Hunter hinted. He glanced between the two of them with a playful smirk on his face.

"I think they finally confessed that they like each other," Wrecker interrupted. His words coming out louder than anticipated. He nudged Echo who stood beside him.

"You think?" Echo glanced at him.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Omega smiled at them.

Meanwhile, Tech quickly collected his helmet off the ground and placed it over his head once again. He hoped it would cover the blush creeping up his neck to his face. He knew he wouldn't hear the end of the taunting from his brothers anytime soon.

"Well boys. It looks like we got another member on our crew," Hunter said slowly. "Welcome to the Bad Batch."

[sjswrites]

You Are Worthy

Summary: A little fanfix from AoU. You're Thor's daughter and had to show the boys up.

Warnings: Just fluuuuuffff. My baby deserved this.

A/N: Hiii. Last weekend was hectic, buuut here's the posts you were gonna get, plus a bonus one. Enjoy! 🥰

Masterlist

“Goddess,” A whisper came from the doorway. In the reflect of the mirror, the redhead leaned against the doorframe in her dark red suit. “How did I get so lucky, huh?” She pushed off the door frame. “I don’t deserve you.” She whispered as her arms snaked around my waist and her lips placed a gentle kiss on my shoulder.

“You do.” My head leaned up against hers. “You deserve everything, baby. You are one of the greatest heroes in the world, but more importantly,” I spun around to face her. “The greatest girlfriend in the world.”

She scoffed. “You must be talking about yourself.” She deflected as I glared at her.

”I’m serious, Natasha.” I kissed her lips. We moved like an ocean of love and lust. I slowly pulled away as she sighed. “I know, you don’t believe me, but it’s true. You are worthy of good things. You’re an amazing person.” My finger swiped away some strands of red away from her warm, green eyes. “Don’t be so mean to yourself… okay?”

She defeatedly nodded as she kissed my nose. “I’ll try. Just for you.”

I shook my head. “Do it for you.”

“Okay Thor. Put her down again. I need to try again.” Tony said as the Avengers quickly gathered around the show. My father laid his hammer down gently on the table as Tony stepped up. He tapped his watch as both of his gloves grew onto his hands and up his arms. He strained as he pulled and his thruster were fully engaged, but to no avail Mjonir did not budge. I chuckled to myself as I made myself comfortable in Nat’s lap, wrapping my arm around her neck.

“Baby, have you ever tried?” I whispered in her ear.

She shook her head. “That’s not an answer I need to be confirmed by a godly weapon. Thank you, but no thank you.”

“Would you try for me?” She looked at me searching and scanning for the joke part of what I asked her. “I bet you’d look really sexy holding it.” I whispered while nibbling on her ear.

“No.” She simply replied.

“Pleeeease.” I pouted my lip.

“Wow. You’re really pulling all the tricks out, huh?” I nodded, eagerly. “No. I don’t want to.” I sighed as I looked at my father and back at Tony. “You do it.”

I looked around the room. All the men had tried to lift my father’s hammer several times. Tony, Bruce, and Clint had tried in the past. Actually multiple triumphant attempts. The only one with any really progress was Cap. The slight wiggle of the hammer gave my father the slight tension in his chest. The women around the table simply refused. Maybe it was the internal notion that we all felt… The fear of not being good enough. The fear of rejection. The fear of being shamed.

“Fine. I will.” A devilish plan formulated in my head. All eyes shifted to me as I strutted my way over to the hammer. “One question, though.” The crowd’s curiosity only grew. “Has anyone ever wanted to kiss me?” A few shy hands raised as Natasha’s eyes narrowed at me. “Aww come on, babe. I feel like you're obligated to raise your hand.” She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at me. “Fine,” I put my hand around the handle as it lightly came up. I pointed the hammer at Kate and Peter who had her hand up. “I guess, I’m making dreams come true tonight.” I looked over at my father who beamed proudly as I flipped the hammer in my hand.

“Fine.” Natasha said as she raised her hand. I quickly threw the hammer at her hand as she caught it. My jaw dropped as I smiled at her.

“I knew it!” I ran back to her, giggling as a small like grin grew on the redhead’s face. She dropped the hammer as it fell through the floor and I jumped in her arms. “I told you.”

“Whatever.” She shook her head before pulling me in for an Earth-shattering kiss for the night we’d remember for the rest of lives.

Masterlist

[marlynnofmany]

Downhill Speed

You know what's a shame? Wasted potential.  Like this new place we were doing business, which was all swooping walkways and ramps — a spectacular opportunity for hoverboard fun, except for the fact that it would probably cause a massive diplomatic incident. The locals were an exceptionally stuffy and dignified species. I couldn't tell if they walked that slowly out of choice or necessity, though the planters full of edibles leaves every few yards felt like a clue. These guys were always chewing, as if they'd run out of the energy to move if they stopped.

I don't know. Maybe they were just like that for cultural reasons. But they kinda did look like koala-sloths in fancy robes. 

And as much as I wanted to find something with wheels or thrusters to ride whooping down the walkways, I didn't want to get our courier ship blacklisted from this sector of space. 

So I just waited patiently while Captain Sunlight worked out the details, and I helped Paint and Mur transfer the pile of small boxes from their hoversleds to ours. I didn't even comment on the inefficiency of all these small crates and multiple hoversleds when they could have had them strapped together in a pallet. Maybe the things came from multiple houses. Not my business. 

But then. One of the locals dropped a box.

It landed on a corner and cracked right open, to a chorus of horrified gasps, and its contents rolled out — a single glowy blue sphere, all sparkly and beautiful, the size of a bowling ball and just as fast. It gathered speed down the ramp while locals cried out helplessly. 

Well if that's not my cue, I don't know what is.

I jumped on a hoversled and flashed off after it, kicking madly to catch up. This was more awkward than I expected. I was out of practice — it had been a long time since I zipped between college classes on a proper board — and this was definitely not that. The little hoversled clearly wasn’t built for speed. It vibrated under me like it was panicking about the velocity we were going, and I couldn’t blame it.

This ramp was a pretty straight one so far, which was great, because I had no real way to steer. I’d kicked to a proper pace, and now I balanced with both feet planted and both arms out like an absolute amateur. But I didn’t want to tip over. I was closing in on the ball.

It made an ominous rumble along the floor.

It was just two yards away.

There was a corner coming up.

The ball was one yard away.

I crouched.

And I grabbed it, tucking it against my chest with one arm while I clutched the edge of the hoversled with the other, sitting down just before I slammed into the clear wall at the corner.

That was some painful skidding. I put my feet down to slow things further, which ended up spinning me around, dragging my feet behind me. But I didn’t drop the ball. And I probably didn’t get any friction burns through my sleeve, though I’d definitely have to check that later.

For now, I was busy sliding to a stop and taking a few deep breaths before standing up. As my blood stopped pounding in my ears quite so loudly, the realization trickled in that people were making a lot of noise around me.

Good noise? I think. Whew.

It took a second to be sure, but those were cheers of praise. Either this ball was an important holy item, or the stunt I’d pulled to catch it was just that impressive. Possibly both. I wouldn’t know until I got back up to the top, because there wasn’t anyone nearby to ask.

But they were hurrying down to meet me, as much as their species could be said to hurry. I found the height adjustment on the hoversled and raised it to where I could tow it without bending down, then started the long walk back up. I held the pretty blue sphere close.

When the koala-sloths met me in the middle, galloping with an undignified flapping of robes, they thanked me profusely for catching the high explosive before it leveled the place.

Multiple responses ran through my head.

I ended on “You might consider better packaging for it.”

They agreed, taking it from me (to my relief) and pulling the hoversled as well. By the time we reached the top, our entire crew was going to town with bubble wrap on the other boxes, and Captain Sunlight had arranged a significantly higher delivery fee.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[niobiumao3]

Horrifying/amusing tidbits I have contemplated

--

Phee is flying in the clips from Juggernaut because it's her ship. Tech is shooting and is giving piloting 'advice'.

"If you accelerate into the turn without applying the left directional thrusters you can--"

"ExCUSE me whose ship is this?"

"I am simply attempting to--"

"Nuh uh. Only boyfriends get to critique my flying."

"Fine. I am now your boyfriend. If you accelerate into the turn--"

Hunter, losing his mind. "Can we not do this right now????"

--

Tech returns to Pabu, exhausted, probably injured, but alive! ...sees the goggles somewhere that Phee has them. (On a table? Anyways.)

He picks them up carefully. "Where did you get these?"

"Wrecker and Hunter had them."

Tech goes to find them. "You went back to Eriadu?"

Wrecker scoffs. "Oh, hells no!"

"Hemlock tried to use them to get to us." Hunter makes a face. "Almost worked, to be honest..."

"Hemlock?" Tech is now tearing them apart. "Hemlock gave you these."

Echo looks concerned. "Yeah..." He closes his eyes. "Fuck."

Tech pulls out a little chip-thing from the recording device, holds it up, throws it on the ground, smashes it.

"Was that what I think it was."

"it was. We need to leave. Now. Everyone."

"Brown Eyes how do you think we're getting hundreds of refugees off this planet on a moment's notice?"

"No idea. But we'll think of something."

(And then the Empire drops out of Hyperspace!)

[carionto]

The recoil makes it fun

Most everyone in the known Universe agree that a stable and noise-free space ship is preferable to anything not that. You know, due to space being so bad for your health. Stability means safety, noise-free means things are not breaking, which is always great!

Pure silence, however, can be deceptive, so you do want controlled noises in there, such as small beeps at regular intervals indicating that everything is fine. Soft green and blue lights are good.

By that logic, Johann Utsushima then must hate green and blue. His ship, Kitaiyohdzha, is always blaring orange and red lights and barking annoying warnings at him.

Things like: "Low pressure" "High pressure" "Not enough power" "Overload detected" "Insufficient oxygen" "Dangerous oxygen levels"

Like, make up your mind! One or the other, stop it with the extreme ends. Johann has resorted to do the time-honored tradition of ignoring the check engine light and instead stays in his suit all the time. It's his rickety mess and he knows exactly where everything is and how it should be, don't go telling him how to run HIS ship. Especially you, ship, don't tell me you know better.

An astute observer may notice the fact that Kitaiyohdzha is a giant rail gun with a cockpit, engine, thrusters, and basic life support systems attached. Or what's left of them anyway.

Mr Utsushima loves guns. And I mean LOVES them. This one in particular. He can't get enough of it. Literally. He couldn't, so he kept ordering bigger and bigger ones. Kitaiyohdzha is the biggest one (21 meters long) he can legally get without being part of or associated with the military in some way, or registering as a "redistributer". He would not pass the background check to do either.

This, however, does not stop him from modifying his guns. It's a lot of effort, very expensive, and quite complicated. Well, for him. Because he does not document anything and not even God knows how many iterations and past modifications he has made to Kitaiyohdzha to make it what it is today.

None of the matters though. The only time the world makes sense, when everything is exactly as it should be, is when he pulls the trigger.

Space. Quivers.

You can't hear the discharge, but you can feel it from a great distance.

Johann is not at a great distance. Everyone would say he is dangerously close, and be factually correct. Not even a meter from the power generator that enables the rail gun to fire a piece of tungsten at relativistic speeds in order to completely obliterate a poor and unsuspecting little asteroid just gently floating through space. Or is it a meteor? Comet? Doesn't matter, they all explode more or less the same.

Johann likes to watch the recordings of him firing the gun. It lets him know what happened, because the moment he fires Kitaiyohdzha, every time without fail, he loses consciousness from the sudden g-forces hurtling him and the "ship" backwards for thousands of kilometers before the barely functional automatic stabilizers return him to rest.

But that moment right before his mind goes blank. THAT is something you cannot explain to others. You FEEL it. The power. The force. The raw... just, THAT.

It's the only thing that keeps him going. Where to? He doesn't care. Simply forward through life.

[gumnut-logic]

J Protocol

The Protocols

This one is a long time coming and I've been staring at it for hours, so have no idea if it is good enough and it hasn't been read through by anyone but me, so I'm going in blind.

This is for @onereyofstarlight who has waited long enough ::hugs::

I hope you enjoy it.

-o-o-o-

John liked to be alone.

It allowed him to rest, to think, and to be himself. There were no demands on how he needed to act, what he was wearing or what he felt like saying.

Alone he could serenade the stars, karaoke dance to his ABBA collection, read without anyone commenting on what he was reading, and, hell, leave the bathroom door open if he wanted to. Being alone had its advantages.

But it also had its disadvantages.

Today had been an unpleasant one.

The fish brother in the back of his head cried foul and described it in much more colourful terms, in several different languages - did Gordon actually know how to speak Greek? All of the above would have had Grandma threatening to clean his mouth out with soap, but really, John couldn’t help but agree with the description.

Even the thought of his little brother had him smiling just a little as Thunderbird Five slowly grew larger.

He had been out in his exosuit, something he usually enjoyed when a rescue was close by. This had involved a couple of idiots in orbit who had done something very, very stupid.

And it cost them everything.

John had been fast, but space was faster and it took their lives.

Scott had been on comms at the time. His eldest brother had all the kind words amongst the command decisions, but a mission failure was still a failure and after the long shift before it, John was just tired and sad.

Returning home to Five was a relief, but there was part of him, a very small part of him, who missed the loud of home.

He liked being alone.

But he loved his family.

And today sucked all the ass.

Gordon, watch your language.

Talkin’ to yourself, bro.

Solitude also tended to promote conversations with himself.

“John, which airlock will you be using?”

But then, was he truly alone?

“The rear ‘lock, Eos. The suit needs some repairs and a good clean.”

“Should I alert Virgil?”

“No, I can manage.” But that would be an excuse to see his big brother. Virgil wasn’t a fan of space, but he would drop by at any hint of John needing help.

A glance in the direction of Tracy Island, in midnight darkness just like the whole half a planet beneath him.

John sighed as he slowed, firing reverse thrusters to kill off his velocity, to a smooth pacing of Five. Splattering himself across her solar panels would certainly be an undesirable end to an already shitty day.

Eos had the airlock open and waiting, enabling John to slip in quietly. Five crept around him with her protection. Being out in space was a raw experience. Beautiful, but raw. His ‘bird provided a sense of security with cahelium between him and the harsh environment.

The airlock sealed and the air pressure welled up, familiar in its reassuring caress. The inner door slipped open and he pushed off gently into the module he had left in such a hurry several hours earlier.

He ran through the disassembly routine for his exosuit, robotic arms pulling it gently from his body. For some reason he found himself leaning into that metallic touch.

Damn, maybe he had been away from Tracy Island for too long.

He would have to schedule some leave.

But he had that experiment running…and Auckland University were waiting for his write up on his comet. He could do the writing on Tracy Island - would his brothers give him the space?

The pun was ignored.

His brothers tried. He knew they tried. They respected his wishes as much as they could. Didn’t understand them, but respected them. They knew social interaction took energy he felt better spent elsewhere. They knew that what worked for them didn’t necessarily work for him.

They tried.

Hard.

But he also knew they missed him.

And he loved them for it.

Returning to Earth added him to their lives in three dimensions and they often wanted to take advantage of that. Hell, he wanted to take advantage.

But there was transition time from space to Earth, and all the stuff he had up here, and…

God, he was tired.

The mechanics finished up, leaving him floating free in the centre of the module.

He let himself drift just a little.

“John?”

Eos didn’t ask if he was okay, but the question was there anyway.

He sighed. “Stash the exosuit, I’ll do the repairs tomorrow.”

“Yes, John.” How did she put so much emotional inflection into those two words?

He refused to sigh again, simply reaching out to touch the wall and nudge himself towards the airlock leading into the central hub of Five.

The room lit up as he entered, the familiar map of the planet below spreading out across the spherical walls. The rescue indicators were clear for once in his life and he was quite happy to pass by the map and head for the gravity ring, aiming for his bathroom and the chance to clean off the sweat under his uniform.

“Hey.”

The sudden appearance of a body blocking his path confused his exhausted brain and he was slow to connect the dots of green, blue and heavy lifting brother.

“Whoa, Johnny, take a breath.”

A hand steadied him where his reaction had sent him spinning just a little.

“Virgil? What? Eos, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Virgil asked me not to. You said I should listen to Virgil, so I did.”

John deflated, and sighed in exasperation. “Virgil, why? You scared the shit out of me.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow.

Okay, so plain, old boring swear words weren’t usually his thing, but he was tired.

That eyebrow twitched in his direction.

Oh.

“Just dropping in for a home visit. That last situation was a rough one.”

“I’m fine, Virgil.” He pushed past his brother. “Just need some sleep.”

“Uh-huh.”

John rolled his eyes as he pushed himself out into the ring, his feet lightly landing in the low gravity environment. He strode across cahelium reinforced glass. “If you’re going to order me back to Tracy Island, I rather you didn’t.”

Virgil was obviously following him, the soft squeak of his specialised boots on the glass a not unfamiliar sound. “Haven’t even thought about it. Just wanted to drop by and see how you were going.”

“At two in the morning.”

“I’m a night owl.” He could feel his brother’s smile bounce off the back of his head.

John grunted as he reached the doors to his rooms. He turned to his brother standing behind him. “I’m going to get cleaned up. Back shortly.”

“Scott says debrief in the morning, but I would like to check you over before bed.”

“Really?” It was whiney and childish, and he earned that extra eyebrow arch, but damnit, he was tired.

“Really.” And there was just that touch of steel in Virgil’s voice. Not quite the same as Scott’s commander tone, but just as final. “Don’t make me come in there after you.”

“Fine.” He threw open the door and wished he could slam it behind him with all the petulance he felt right now.

Virgil didn’t answer, nor did he follow him.

It only took a moment or two for the guilt to sink in and John was faced with the fact that Virgil was worried about him. He climbed up into orbit, into space which he didn’t enjoy, to check on his little brother, only to encounter …John.

He let his head drop against the glass of his bedroom wall. Because of the lower gravity, his forehead did not hit with any of the thump he needed it to.

A sigh. He would apologise, but first he needed to get clean.

-o-o-o-

It was a bit longer than he had expected when he finally emerged from his rooms, but he felt just a little bit more human for the clean and new spacesuit.

Time also helped. His head had been caught up in rescue gone bad. Those few extra minutes helped him step back and breathe.

Virgil wasn’t outside his door, which, considering he’d likely left him with the impression he might have to hogtie John to get the readings he needed, was a surprise.

“Eos, where is Virgil?”

“In the infirmary. John, do you like pineapple?”

He frowned, heading in the direction of the small room set aside for medical needs on the gravity ring. “Yes, why?”

“Even if it is on pizza?”

“Uh, no. Pineapple should never be put on pizza.” He frowned as he slipped into the infirmary. “Have you been talking to Gordon?”

“Yes, and he is most emphatic that pizza should include pineapple in its toppings.”

“Gordon has issues.”

Virgil snorted. “That he does.” His brother looked up as John entered. Apparently, he was doing a medical supply inventory.

He had removed his baldric and harness, and was standing in his overalls-styled uniform without his usual green. It wasn’t right.

As if sensing John’s affronted senses, Virgil frowned. “You okay?”

John shrugged and sat down quietly, and obediently, on the small bed. “You need the green.”

Virgil looked down at himself, wrinkling his nose. “I do feel kind of naked.”

“So why did you take it off?”

“Didn’t need it. Need the suit for safety, but didn’t want to clink every time I moved.” He pulled the medscanner out of it protective sleeve on the bulkhead.

John held up a hand. “Sorry about before. I-“

Virgil put a hand on his arm. “Nothing. Been there, it’s not fun. Understandable.” And that was the end of that.

Virgil gently pushed John’s arm down to his side and began waving the scanner over John’s body.

Ten seconds later he turned off the scanner. “You’re good. Could do with some food, drink and sleep, but everything else is fine. You don’t even have any bruises.” A gentle smile. “You’re good, John.”

“Thank you.” There was a double meaning there, good in health and a compliment on a good job done. “And thank you for coming all the way up here. I could have saved you the trip.” He did know how to use the medscanner, after all.

“There is more to your health than what that scanner can tell me.” Virgil eyed him as he put the device away. “Besides, I like to see my all my brothers from time to time.”

“The time, Virgil. You should be in bed.”

Then as if to throw John completely out of whatever universe he was currently in, Alan bounded through the door. “Virg, it’s working. All ready to go.” His littlest brother looked up. “Oh, hey, John.” And he darted out as fast as he had entered.

“What?” The word burst out of his mouth. “How-?” He glared at Virgil. “What’s going on?”

But Virgil just straightened and smiled. “J Protocol.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” Virgil strode past him and pushed open the door. “Come with.”

John found his mouth open and had to shut it. “Virgil-“

“Nope.” His brother waved an arm towards the door. “C’mon.”

Instinctively, John knew that if he didn’t move, Virgil would start on more drastic transport options. After all, John had seen his heavy lifting brother throw Scott over his shoulder in exasperation.

Virgil always got his way eventually.

John let his shoulders drop and walked through the door.

This time he felt like stomping instead of slamming, but the same emotion was behind both.

“Virgil, I’m fine.”

His brother nudged him forward as he shut the door behind them. “Good. Keep it that way.”

“But-“

A strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. “John, you need this.”

“I-“

But his brother herded him through the airlock into the central hub of Thunderbird Five.

The sphere was full of brothers.

And pizza boxes.

Scott was sitting cross-legged like some kind of suspended Buddha, poking at his phone. Gordon was upside down chattering non-stop to Alan who was the right way up - there was no ‘up’ in space, but there definitely was an ‘up’ on Thunderbird Five, despite the lack of gravity in her central hub - and conversing with an ease that spoke of extensive space experience.

An irrational sense of pride of his littlest brother swelled John’s heart.

All at once the three brothers realised John was in the room.

“Johnny! Welcome to the party!”

Alan flipped midair in an obvious over-the-top move to land right next to John. “Hey, John, way until you see what we’ve done.”

John frowned. “What have you done?” They better not have messed with his ‘bird.

But Scott had unfolded and was narrowing in on John with a frown. He didn’t say anything, just glanced a question at Virgil who gave him a nod.

His two eldest brothers were irritating when they did that, especially when the non-verbal conversation was obviously about him.

Scott reached out and gently clasped John’s arm. “Good job out there today.”

Yesterday, technically. “What are you all doing up here?”

“Pizza party!” Gordon’s eyes were glowing with glee.

“At 2.30 in the morning?”

Scott shrugged. “Sometimes pizza is just needed.” And there was something in his big brother’s eyes.

Goddamnit, he was fine.

But then Scott gently pulled him into a hug. It wasn’t tight, just a wrap of his arms around John, his head resting, just touching John’s shoulder.

The room was oddly silent.

And John found himself leaning into the hug. His brother’s caring touch etching into his skin, drawing him in deeper, feeding a need he hadn’t realised he had.

His head fell quietly onto Scott’s shoulder. The moment it touched, his brother’s grip tightened just a fraction before loosening again…so, so gentle.

Oh god.

But then Scott was equally as gently pulling away, blue eyes eyeing him as if unsure how he would react. Perhaps gauging his next move.

A big hand landed on his back and its partner wrapped around Scott’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” Virgil nudged himself between them, aiming for the huge pile of floating boxes.

The moment snapped and the world started moving again. Gordon and Alan joined Virgil with the boxes, happily discussing toppings…which ultimately led to the ongoing war between yes-pineapple and no-pineapple on pizza.

Gordon was never going to win that one, outvoted four to one, but he was a determined fish and kept up the battle at every chance.

It was a familiar sound of home.

Blue eyes were still staring at him. Saying so much unsaid.

“Hey, Johnny, me and Virg set up something cool for you.” Alan was bouncing as much as he could in a zero-g environment.

It forced John to look away from Scott. “What have you done?”

“Virgil said he wanted to set you free, but keep you safe, so we did this.” Alan poked at his wrist control.

And the hub walls disappeared.

What?

All his brothers, the stack of pizza, the random slice of pepperoni that chose that moment to drift through his eyeline - all of it, and them, was floating above the night side of Earth with nothing around them.

Thunderbird Five was gone.

His breath caught in his throat. “How?”

Virgil was smiling as he gazed at the view, pizza slice in hand. “A few more sensors on her hull, improved communication with the holoprojectors, and a little bit of programming by Alan, and you have your own space-themed holodeck.”

He stared at the lights of Auckland and Sydney. “You built me a holodeck?”

“Isn’t it cool?!” Alan was definitely bouncing.

John nodded. “Yeah, it’s cool.”

“This is the default view. It draws directly from Five’s exterior sensors. What you see here is what you’d see if we were outside. But I did add a few of my favourites for you and tweaked the input from your telescopes.”

Alan poked at his wrist control and Earth vanished.

It was replaced with a view of the Andromeda Galaxy. They were staring down at a sea of swirling stars surrounded by the deepest darkness.

“It’s not interactive, though. The processing power required for this resolution is huge and Five does have a much larger program it needs to keep safe.” He looked up for a moment, but when there was no response, Alan warily turned his attention back to John. “If you want to add more views, we’ll need to up Five’s storage. We should probably do that anyway. Never hurts to have more storage.”

“Says the video game addict.” Gordon snorted.

“Hey, your holos of fish take up more room than my games.”

“Are you kidding? Zombie death 16 pushed me onto external storage.”

“That was an accident.”

“How?”

“I may have put it on the house servers twice.”

“What? Did you delete it?”

“Of course I did.”

“Guys?” Virgil’s voice was ever so tolerant.

Gordon and Alan glanced at John. “Sorry.” It was a chorus of the both of them.

No, this was fine. It really was.

Andromeda glowed beneath them.

His family was…being his family.

And there was pizza.

He let himself float and closed his eyes.

The smell of toasted cheese and tomato sauce, peppers, that unique pizza smell.

His brothers talking quietly - Gordon and Alan still at it, but desperately trying to be quiet about it. John would look at digital storage options both for Tracy Island and Thunderbird Five tomorrow.

At the moment…

A soft touch to his shoulder and Virgil was offering him a slice of cheeseburger pizza, his favourite.

Scott had gone back to being aTracy Industries Buddha…until Virgil coasted past, snatched his phone out of his hand, and smoothly replaced it with a slice of pepperoni and cheese.

Scott’s protest was muffled by Virgil’s glare.

John bit into his pizza slice surrounded by his family and an amazing projection of his second favourite galaxy.

Yes, he liked to be alone.

But he also loved his family.

And they loved him enough to follow him.

-o-o-o-

[letsquestjess]

Hello 🤎

If you’re still looking for some requests, I have an idea for a fic where the reader gets in between Crosshair and Hunter when they are first bickering when Crosshair rejoins the group, defending Cross (who she of course has been in love with from day one but never said anything) and he is completely taken aback by her willingness to protect him.

And fluff and confessions and love ensue?

Thank you 🤎

Hi there! Thank you for the request 💜

I love this idea so much! There was probably a lot of tension on The Marauder on that flight back to Pabu 😅

In the Middle (Crosshair x GN/F!Reader)

Summary: Tensions run high after Crosshair returns, and after listening to enough bickering, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Word count: 2K (yep, this one ran away with me)

Warnings: Bit of angst.

A/N: While this request was made with a female reader in mind, it's gender neutral like most of my SFW xReader fics.

-- -- -- -- --

With each pocket of turbulence, The Marauder shuddered and rattled. The latches on the cupboards struggled to withhold the avalanche of items, threatening to scatter them across the floor, while the unused hazard chairs juddered.  

“Those should have been secured before we set off,” Hunter grumbled from the co-pilot seat. 

“We’ll be through the worst of it in a minute,” you promised, manoeuvring your fingers over the buttons and pulling a lever. Slowly but surely, you handled the ship, making precise adjustments to the engine and applying incremental pressure to the thrusters, guiding it through the dense pocket and emerging unscathed. “There we go. May get a bit of rattling, but it shouldn’t be as bad now.” 

As soon as the shaking subsided, Hunter sprung out of his seat and got to work tightening the loose brackets on the hazard seats. Ever since picking up Omega and Crosshair, he’d been on edge, monitoring his sister’s every move and occupying himself with mundane, self-imposed duties. 

You turned in time to catch the intense glare Hunter shot at Crosshair when the sniper tried to assist him. You offered Crosshair a reassuring smile, but he flinched away, his tired eyes overflowing with a wariness that had become all too common since he returned. He’d taken to dawdling around the bunks at the rear of the ship or concealing himself in secluded spots while Wrecker and Hunter doted on Omega, making himself as small as possible and ensuring he wouldn’t be a nuisance. Not that he ever could be, not in your mind.  

In order to avoid detection by Imperials, you had all unanimously decided to forgo the hyperspace lanes and opted for a longer route to Pabu. At first, you thought nothing of it, the plan seemed perfectly reasonable, but the suffocating atmosphere on the ship soon amplified the palpable tension between them. 

The communications unit emitted a shrill beep, and before you had the chance to even think about responding, Hunter crossed into the cockpit and leafed through the message.

“What is it?” Omega asked, peeking into the front cabin. 

“It’s from Echo,” Hunter replied. “He’s planning to visit soon so he can welcome back our happy arrival.” The smile faded and his jaw stiffened the second his eyes rose to meet Crosshair’s as he wandered to the cockpit door.

“If you have something on your chest, Hunter, spit it out,” Crosshair told him, exhaustion tingeing his tone. “Ever since I got here, you haven’t stopped glaring at me, so just say what you want.”

You exchanged a glance with Omega, silently conveying your shared hope that Hunter wouldn’t. You saw enough hurt in Crosshair as it was. 

The moment you had laid eyes on him disembarking the Imperial shuttle and crossing over the pools of light to The Marauder, the affection you’d harboured for him since being assigned to Clone Force 99 during the war resurfaced. For a reunion you hoped would hold so much promise and joy, the atmosphere quickly soured as Hunter stood in the way, protecting Omega and preventing Crosshair from boarding the ship. 

If it weren’t for the young clone’s persistence and yourself and Wrecker coaxing him round, he most likely would have abandoned him. Since then, you’d spent the past few days contemplating what you would have done in that situation, but a small voice inside insisted you would have gone with Crosshair. Fortunately, you hadn’t been forced to make that tough decision, but now you found yourself dealing with backhanded remarks and agitated glares, and your patience wore thin. 

As they started bickering again, you positioned yourself between them. “Will you both stop it?” you demanded. “Haven’t we all been through enough? You are brothers.” Instead of allowing Hunter to continue his argument, you interrupted him by slamming your hand on the controls. The door whizzed shut, confining you both in the cockpit. 

“You have got to drop this suspicion of him, Hunter,” you all but begged. “I understand you’re on edge and this has been overwhelming, but we have no idea what he endured on Tantiss. Based on what Omega has shared, that place is a nightmare for anyone who opposes the Empire, so please quit looking at him like he’s a potential threat.”

You could see the gears revolving in his head as he processed your words, his resistance crumbling. Every time he clenched his fists or snapped at the slightest question, you had felt the urge to intervene. His actions were only aggravating the situation, particularly for Omega and Crosshair, but the months of stress were taking their toll in leaving his system, and the last thing you wanted was to make the tension worse. 

There was an absence of culpability in your words, and even if he’d tried, he couldn’t condemn you for confronting him in such a way. The days had passed by uneasily to say the least, and he’d done nothing to help matters. He was scared. Fearing failing Omega again, he also grappled to acknowledge his abandonment of Crosshair, and anticipated a reckoning. If his brother did hold him partly responsible for his suffering, he wouldn’t blame him. So often he scolded himself for accepting that he was a lost cause instead of putting up a stronger fight for him. And he had come to terms with the fact that he had played a role in everything you’d all suffered since. 

“They both need calm to recover,” you said softly. “Can you not see how your brother is hurting?” 

Hunter couldn’t have felt worse than he did in that moment, but he remained quiet. He knew you weren’t doing this to guilt him, but to jolt him out of the terrified haze that was making him lash out at his family, that was driving a wedge between them when they should be reuniting in solidarity. So he listened. 

Weary and with pleading eyes, you perched yourself on the arm of the co-pilot chair and gazed at the squad’s leader. “Whatever happened to Cross, it has left him visibly shaken, and for something to shake a man as sturdy as him… I dread to think of the horrors he went through.” A lump snagged in your throat but you breathed it down. “Ease up on him. That’s all I ask.” 

Outside the cockpit, Crosshair’s fingertips dug into the rigid metal of the door as he leaned a little closer, ears trained on the noise within and disregarding the ongoing conversation between Wrecker and Omega at the navigation console. Your determined protection of him stirred up his guilt, and he listened enraptured by your ability to hold Hunter accountable without losing sight of the underlying complexities of the situation. In truth, he hadn’t anticipated such a strong defence from you, and his chest fluttered. 

Prior to the end of the war and the fateful order, he had nearly confessed everything to you, poured out his feelings just to be free of them. It hadn’t mattered to him whether you reciprocated them or not. He merely wanted you to know so that he no longer had to bear that uncertainty. If he had to hurt, he preferred to rip off the plaster fast and move on as best he could. 

But the way you smiled around him when nobody else did, the easy flow of your conversations, the lingering touches that ignited a comforting warmth made him wonder if you shared his affections. You hadn’t treated the others in that manner, and it sent his mind spiralling.  

The situation had changed now, though. You survived with the Empire on your tail, with the daunting task of evading him while he hunted you without mercy or relent. Handled dangerous missions and daring ventures solely to provide for and protect his brothers. There was no assurance that the feelings you may have once held for him remained.  

Alerted by the sound of steps nearing the door, he retreated and pretended to secure the cupboards after the earlier jolts and jostles. Thankfully, you took no notice of his sudden movement, but he didn’t miss the glimmer of a smile you directed at him, a comforting reassurance and a gesture of hope that everything would work out in time. 

With meticulous care, you finished cleaning the brunt of your blaster and slipped each piece back together with a satisfying click. As you worked with the rotary system, you encountered some difficulties and resorted to using the slim brushes to sweep each cleft in the cylinder. The pungent smell of oil clogged your nostrils, and with a brief wince, you sealed the container.

Lost in your task, you picked up on a set of footsteps drawing near but remained immersed in the intricate inner workings of your weapon. 

“Sorry,” Crosshair mumbled once he spotted you sat on your bunk. “I can go. I don’t want to interrupt you.” 

Your gaze shot up, locking onto his with a silent plea to stay. The confidence he exuded during the war had vanished, leaving him second guessing every action he took, and it pained you to witness how the Empire had savagely chipped away at him. “It’s okay,” you assured him. “I actually wouldn’t mind the company.”

With a sense of comfort from your soft admission, he wandered over to the upper bunk and reclined until his hip met the rail, scanning the weathered hull as though he was still trying to grasp where he was. “I apologise if the atmosphere hasn’t exactly been pleasant,” he said, massaging the palm of his right hand with his thumb as a tremor coursed up his wrist. 

“I’m just glad you’re back,” you said in a relieved breath. You finished reassembling your blaster and fastened it into the holster hanging over your bed. Shifting the tray of tools onto the bedsheets, you rose from the mattress. “Hunter will come round. Give him time.” 

“I missed that bright optimism,” Crosshair admitted. 

The shakes in his hand spread and he hunched his shoulders. Sensing the shame in the action, you gently enclosed him in your arms, waiting for any discomfort before squeezing him. 

“I wish I could repair the rift between you and Hunter,” you muttered, resting your temple against his as you held him. “Fixing the most complicated of ships is a breeze compared to working with you two and your stubborn natures.” 

Through a thin haze of tears, Crosshair clung onto you tighter, breathing you in and relishing your tender inclination. When you pulled away, his hand quivered as he reached out to wipe the lone teardrop that had trailed a path down your cheek. 

“But if I can help you both through this, then I will,” you told him. “Whatever it takes.” 

Struck by your compassionate, resolute statement, Crosshair pressed his forehead to yours, his heart skipping when you met him halfway. All he wanted to do was hold you close and never let go. “This is nothing compared to the arguments we had as cadets.”

“More than one bloodied nose, wasn’t it?” 

“Uh-huh.”

You both shared a grin as he cupped your cheeks and nestled into you. “I overheard what you said to Hunter,” he confessed. 

“I meant every word,” you whispered, settling your hands on his chest. “Cross, I can see you hurting and I want to be here for you.”

At the slight crack in your voice, Crosshair dropped his focus to your mouth before returning to your watery eyes. You answered his silent question with a nod, and he wasted no time in sealing his lips to yours. As he melted into the kiss, he dried your fallen tears with the pads of his thumbs, moving in tandem with you until your back hit the wall and his arms protectively encompassed you.

“Your willingness to stand up for others is one of the things that drew me to you,” he said, pulling away, breathless. Another sweet peck landed on your lips, feather light and full of promise. “I never should have left.” 

You hushed him with a slow shake of your head. “You’re home,” you reminded him. “That’s all that matters now.”

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

How do you think Suletta would react if someone challenged her to a Mobile Suit duel NOT for Miorine's hand in marriage, but for Suletta's hand? 😁

(MSG: The Witch from Mercury) Suletta getting challenged for her hand in marriage.

Besides Guel, this had to happen throughout her time at the school at some point, right? Also I LOOOOOOOOOOVE THIS REQUEST SO MUCH, IT'S SO FUNNY ANON!

If you cook with any more WFM ideas, you send that in my inbox ASAP anon!

Suletta frowns when someone is approaching the greenhouse, with her and Miorine in it.

(Miorine) "Hm...I recognize that person. They're from Jeturk House."

(???) "Suletta Mercury!"

Suletta's eyes go wide before shutting as she instinctively moves behind Miorine, stuttering incomprehensible gibberish.

Miorine rolls her eyes at Suletta's actions, stepping out of the greenhouse and crossing her arms.

(Miorine) "Who's asking?"

(???) "I want to challenge her to a Mobile Suit Duel!"

Immediately, something switches in Suletta as her eyes open again, moving to Miorine's side, her fists close to her chest.

(Suletta) "For Miss Miorine's hand? I-I won't let you! I'm her Fiance, and I won't lose to anyone!"

(???) "Miorine? I don't care about her! Suletta...the truth is, I'm in love with you!"

The school's artificial wind passes through the air, being the only sound for a brief moment.

(Suletta) "...H-Huh?!"

(Miorine) "What?"

Suletta completely freezes up, unable to formulate a response as her hands start twitching on their own.

Making Miorine weirded out by her fiance, then looking back at Suletta's "Lover".

(Miorine) "What the hell do you mean you don't care about me?!"

She didn't know if she should be happy, or completely insulted.

(???) "Listen, you can keep the Holder title, or whatever nonsense your company is up to!-"

They turned back to Suletta, who was still in shock.

(???) "Suletta, you're so kind and beautiful! If I win, could I take your hand in marriage?-"

Finally, Suletta explodes into a mess of stuttering, blushing as brightly as Miorine's tomatoes.

(Suletta)"M-M-MARRIAGE?! N-NO! IT'S TOO FAST! I-I'M ALREADY BRETROTHED, A-A-AND WE HAVEN'T EVEN GONE ON A DATE YET! W-WAIT, WHY DO YOU WANT TO DATE ME?! I-I-I-I-"

Miorine hits Suletta on the top of her head after standing on the top of her toes, then glaring daggers at the Jeturk House member.

(Miorine) "Oh, she'll accept your duel alright! SO SHE CAN REJECT YOU! Right, Suletta?!"

(Suletta) "R-Right...!"

Suletta takes a few deep and obnoxious breaths before nodding.

(Suletta) "I'm sure you're a very nice person and all, but I can't!"

(???) "Then my conditions are simple! Suletta Mercury will be married to me if I win this duel!"

(Miorine) "And if we win this duel...!"

Miorine opened her mouth to say something, then looked back to Suletta, who only blinked in response.

(Miorine) "...You're seriously not after my father's company? Or even me?"

(???) "I couldn't care less about either of you...U-Um, no offense-"

Miorine's eye twitched at that.

(Miorine) "IF WE WIN, I GET TO SLAP YOU!"

...

(???) "Victory is never decided by mobile suit performance alone."

(Suletta) "Nor by the skill of the pilot alone."

(Both) "The result itself is the only truth!"

Aerial's eyes flashed green before the thrusters ignited, and flew into the sky.

Suletta's cockpit rumbled as her eyes looked through the cameras, and hearing a voice come through.

(???) "Suletta Mercury, know that my love for you will shine through this battle-"

(Suletta) "U-U-UM! WITH RESPECT, PLEASE FOCUS ON FIGHTING!"

Aerial's funnels immediately break off from the main suit, and flying off in the direction of her "lover's" mobile suit.

Suletta's hand moved to the controls and prepared to fire the beam rifle, only to realize that they were going in a complete straight line.

(Suletta) "What are they...?!"

Even the funnels hesitated to fire, Aerial seemingly confused by what stunt they were pulling.

(Sulettta) "...Yeah, I don't know what they're doing either. Wait, they're dropping their weapons!"

(Miorine's voice) "Hey, why are you just standing there?! They're coming right-"

(???) "STAY OUT OF THIS! THIS IS MY ULTIMATE TECHNIQUE!"

(Suletta) "Eh?!"

(Miorine) "Huh?!"

The monitors of Suletta's cockpit flashed for a singular second, as if Aerial was mimicking their same thoughts.

(???) "THIS HAND OF MINE IS BURNING RED!"

Aerial landed onto the ground, the Gundam quickly adjusting itself as it stared at the opposing mobile suit.

(???) "IT'S LOUD ROAR TELLS ME TO GRASP HAPPINESS!"

No one watching said a single word as their mobile suit lunged forward, its hand burning red.

(???) "BUUUUURNING-"

The Mobile Suit lunged forward, soaring through the air as its fist aimed for Aerial's head.

Before Suletta slightly adjusted the joysticks, feeling her mobile suit side step gently, and watching as they landed completely on the ground.

(Suletta) "..."

(Miorine) "..."

(???) "..."

One of the bits flew towards the head of their mobile suit, and with one beam, shot off the antenna with minimal damage.

WINNER: SULETTA MERCURY

...

SLAP!

Miorine's hand stung, but her pride still felt the hurt this jackass had inflicted!

(Miorine) "Come on, Suletta, we're done here!"

(Suletta) "P-Please excuse us!"

Suletta bowed almost to a 90 degree angle before running and catching up with Miorine.

(Miorine) "What are you smiling about?"

Suletta had a smile and a slight blush.

(Suletta) "Well...I was thinking...m-maybe, I'm finally getting more noticeable if someone was asking me out. I'd like to be friends first at the very least but...They seemed kind of nice though-"

(Miorine) "I AM NOT LETTING MY FIANCE FOOL AROUND WITH OTHERS, GOT IT?!"

(Suletta) "...Is this because they were after me and not-"

Suletta quickly shut up when Miorine glared at her.

(Miorine) "THIS CONVERSATION IS OVER."

[jpitha]

Drives like Crazy

So, humans have this thing where they underestimate risks that are long term, and overestimate risks that are short term. Since we come from such a dangerous world, it kind of makes sense. In the deep recesses of the past, if you were overly wary about that bear over there, you were more likely to survive. But eating healthy all life long to avoid heart disease? That's a problem for Tomorrow Me.

It could be that Xenos that come from less dangerous words have a different view of risk than we do, and would be... concerned by the things that we do all the time because we underestimate their risk.

****

"Set helm to manual, I have control." Jesse's voice was smooth and confident as she sat forward in the leatherette upholstered seat on the command deck. A joystick and a panel with buttons rose out of the floor as foot pedals rose up to meet her booted feet.

"Captain, I would like to register a concern." Unity said. They were the transport freighter that Jesse was now controlling, and they were clearly against this.

"Your concern is registered and noted" Jessie didn't stop setting up the controls. "But as you are aware, manual controls must be tested and verified working quarterly."

Mer'ally, the chief engineer, and unofficial voice of the K'laxi crew onboard Unity turned from her station and looked at Jesse. "I mean, Unity has a point. While we do have to test the manual control system, we don't have to test it while coming to dock at Hyacinth during one of the busiest times of the year."

Jesse's smile was thin and strained. "Once again, your concern has been noted." Jesse's eyes flicked up to the K'laxi staring at her. Mer'ally was unusually tall for a K'laxi, she was nearly Jesse's height. Her reddish orange fur complimented her large green eyes. With her large expressive ears flicking as she spoke her worries, Jesse couldn't help wonder why she was so distracted by her. She shook her head slightly. "Regardless. We have to test manual controls, and I want to practice docking with Hyacinth. We need to know how to pilot Unity in all situations, including docking."

Unity sighed. They weren't going to be able to talk her out of this. "As you wish, Captain, relinquishing control."

Jesse harumphed and got back to work. She ran the joystick in all directions, and everyone felt the ship wiggle in response. With a satisfied nod, Jesse adjusted the inertial compensators down a touch. She wanted to be able to feel the ship move, but not enough to get people motion sick. She nodded in satisfaction and looked up at the other people with her.

"Yen. Please request docking with Hyacinth."

"Aye Captain." Yen bustled at her station. Jesse wondered how she lucked out that all the officers on the command deck today were women, and once again had to push that thought out of her mind. She was on duty now.

After a moment Yen called out. "Docking approved. We're clear to dock on the lower ring, bay 33."

"Bay 33 aye." Jesse punched in the location on her control screen, and her vision was overlayed with the best path to the dock. She'll have to match rotation with Hyacinth, but since it's so large, they shouldn't have to go too fast. She goosed the thrusters and Unity started moving forward.

As they trundled towards bay 33, Jesse put Unity's controls through their paces. She gently rolled the ship to make sure the maneuvering thrusters worked correctly, she tumbled it end-over-end and she yawed it in place all the way around. It was actually a lot of fun. She could imagine the looks the other ships gave as Unity spun and pirouetted in place as it moved slowly towards their docking bay, but Jesse didn't care. Maybe she wanted to show off.

As the last maneuver finished, Jesse spun Unity such that with a few puffs from the main drive they'd match rotation with Hyacinth and being docking. Right before she fired the main drive, her console squawked.

"Collision imminent! Collision imminent! CHANGE DIRECTION NOW"

"What?" Jesse pulled hard on the joystick, and the front thrusters fired, sending the noise high while also stopping their forward momentum. With the compensators set low, everyone lurched forward in their seats. In the distance, Jesse heard a crash as something tipped over.

Unity called out. "Captain! There's a Starjumper that's thrusting away from Hyacinth without getting departure permission. Hyacinth is firing on it, and it's coming this way!"

"Why would they be shooting at a Starjumper?" Mer'ally's tail flicked. "Did they skip out on their docking fee?"

"Doesn't matter why right now." Yen didn't move her head from her console. "Comms are screaming with people yelling at them. They're not responding to anyone. They're on the run."

Jesse's screen was filled with the sight of one of the gigantic old interstellar starships bearing down on them. Orange lights of the tracers from the slug launchers oh Hyacinth were zipping past them. She felt ice in her veins as she realized that the Starjumper was going to hit them unless she did something drastic. An instant later, the collision alarm screamed loud again in the ship.

Jesse toggled ship-wide comms. "Juke charges! Brace for shock!" She fired the juke charges; small emergency explosives fired out of Unity and immediately exploded with their characteristic double boom. The area around the juke charge launchers were reinforced and bowl shaped to catch as much of the energy from the explosion as possible. The blast pushed the ship away with a lurch just as the Starjumper and slugs from Hyacinth passed where they were not a second ago.

"Hold tight everyone, I'm going get us away from here" Jesse's hands and feet danced over the panel as she increased power and started to thrust away. With the compensators still turned down, everyone felt the sickening drop as Unity dove and spun and turned as they were trying to get away from the attack.

"Jesse! You're too close to that ship!" Unity didn't even bother to call her Captain. Jesse saw the ship that Unity mentioned almost too late. She came hard on the portside thrusters and everyone held their breath as they glided by the ship.

"You were close enough to scorch their paint Jes-Captain." Mer'ally sighed in relief and grinned.

"The important thing is we missed, Mer." Jesse looked up and flashed a smile and a wink. Mer'ally quickly turned back to her station, but not before a ripple of fur went down her body, a K'laxi blush.

Unity sounded testy. "Captain. The danger has passed and you have more than proven your piloting ability as well as the function of the manual controls. Can I please have the helm?"

Jesse leaned back from her station and stretched. She was concentrating so hard it felt like no time at all had passed. "All right Unity. I release the helm. You have control."

"Aye Captain. Resuming docking with Hyacinth."

Now all Jesse had to do was wait for docking to complete and stress about whether she could ask Mer'ally out on a date. Unity was a civilian ship and they all worked for Houndstooth, one of the major Sol based corporations, so it wasn't like they had to worry about a higher ranked officer hitting on a lower ranked one, but Jesse still worried. She might say no. It was going to be a long wait to dock.

[cybergrinding]

Routine Maintenance

You gently laid down on the table and unbuttoned the top of your uniform. It was time for your mistress to perform your routine maintenance, your heads-up display notifying you of recognized issues. It was all part of the job, and perhaps for any other doll engineer, would be as bland and clinical as working on any other machine. Your engineer, however, your mistress, was different. She reveled in getting to play with your wires and parts more than anyone else that's ever worked on you. You squirmed on the table just thinking about what she had in store for you today.

You heard her speak from across the room, she was still getting her tools ready. "Alright Eris, any problems you're currently having? Any parts need replaced?" She spoke casually to you, using the nickname she made for you rather than your proper designation, E-415. She may have been reprimanded had any of her higher-ups witnessed her casual conversation with you, let alone what her maintenance entailed.

"Sensors have recognized a bulging capacitor in section A, number 3 specifically. No other issues of note currently."

"Mm, I'll probably have to replace the whole section. You'll also want to keep notice of any other ones too, if one has reached its end of life, the others probably aren't far off. No issues with connecting to your weapons?" She walked over to the table, holding a screwdriver and a toolbox of common replacement parts. She was already wearing her anti-static wristband. Though your external armor was plenty capable of warding off damage to any of your interior circuitry, you would still be pushed to the limit so regularly that bits and pieces needed replaced frequently, necessitating every frontline combat doll have dedicated maintenance staff.

"None, all weapons were fully operational when last connected, high altitude thrusters functioning normally. All weapons disconnected without issue."

"Good, good. Sounds like this won't take too terribly long before we can get to your favorite part." She shot you a devilish grin, you could hear the fan on your back spinning faster to disperse the heat. Not giving you a moment to calm yourself, she took the screwdriver to your abdomen, removing each of the screws holding the steel plate in place. She then pulled the plate off, and set it aside.

“E-enabling hot-swapping mode, mistress.” Though most maintenance staff would set their combat dolls into a low power mode while swapping parts, mistress always preferred to keep you largely powered, doing the minimum to allow parts to be replaced over without causing you to blue-screen.

She took a small flashlight in her hand and shined it into your now open abdomen, looking for the faulty capacitor in question. “Yeah, I see it here, shouldn’t be too hard to replace.” She placed the flashlight in her mouth, and grabbed out the necessary parts. A portable desoldering tool in one hand and the new capacitors in the other, with a soldering iron to the side to set the new ones in place. She reached in with the desolderer, and began working to remove the faulty capacitor. “You know, used to be that I’d need to pull out this whole board to remove the capacitors, but nowadays you can keep your insides inside while I work” She continued giving casual conversation as she worked, hard to understand with the flashlight in her mouth.

Before you knew it, all four had been replaced. Ordinarily, that would’ve been it, your engineer would give you a quick look over and close you back up. Mistress had other plans, of course. “Okay, I think we’re ready for a bit of stress testing.” She removed the flashlight from her mouth and set it down. “Are you ready, machine?”

Machine, there was always something about the way she called you that, so formal, yet so sensual whenever she said it. Nothing else made being a doll feel so good in your mind. You eagerly nodded your head.

She gave an amused chuckle and continued. “Very well, how about we start with…” She reached her hand into your open abdomen, and unplugged a small 3 prong connector from its socket. The fan on your back quickly slowed down and came to a stop. “It’s always important to test for these things, right?”

“A-ah, yes mistress.” You could feel yourself begin to warm up, you still had more than enough airflow to keep yourself from overheating, though to have your wires played with still excited your mind, the disconnected fan prompted a warning on your heads-up display, which you quickly dismissed.

“Hm, How about we test your radar tracking next?” Before you could respond, she disconnected the cable to your camera, leaving you unable to see. Another warning popped up, another warning dismissed. Despite this, you were still able to track what your mistress was doing, no combat doll would be limited to visible light camera for tracking targets.

You tracked your mistress as she clambered onto the table with you, and sat herself on your hips. She leaned forward slightly, and suddenly your vision came flooding back, the connection being restored. Actually seeing her now, on top of you, overwhelmed your senses.

“I’m almost done here, there’s just one last little thing I’d like to test before I’m satisfied.” The playfulness in her voice excited you, until suddenly all feelings of bliss cut off. Another warning popped up, notifying that another cable had been disconnected. You looked up to your mistress, she was holding a small 4 pin connector in one hand, the one that controls all feelings of pleasure. In her other hand was a paper clip.

She unfurled the paper clip until it was just a bent piece of metal wire, and leaned in again moving the metal wire towards the pins the connector used to be plugged in at. “So, all I have to do here is touch this to the first and fourth pins inside you, and…” A jolt of pleasure surged through your body, stronger than you could have ever imagined. By bypassing any sort of control and monitoring system, and simply shorting the two pins, she could overload your mind from sheer ecstasy leaving you, the once fearsome aerial combat doll, little more than a quivering mess on her mistress’s table.

After a couple more taps from the metal wire, you couldn’t focus on anything anymore. You hardly even noticed when your mistress got off of you and began reconnecting everything she unplugged. It was only when you heard the cooling fan on your back spin up that you finally came to your senses.

You looked over to your mistress. She was screwing your abdominal plate back into place, a content smile rested on her face. At all other times, you were E-415, an Excelsior class combat doll. But here, in these few tender moments you had, you were Eris, a machine loved by your mistress.

-----

I really hope you enjoyed this little thing I wrote, its my first time putting anything like this out on Tumblr, and I really enjoyed writing it^^

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (VIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREEis here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here and this is part 8 💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Everybody got lunch! Not Danny, though. :) He was taking a nap. And Wonder Woman

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny only doesn’t throw something because he already knew someone was on their way. The alien told him so. It’s not a surprise.

There’s someone new here. In his room. At the edge of his curtain. Too close to his bed. Danny doesn’t like it. He doesn’t hiss, because that’s Rude, but he does push his shadow to be bigger. Longer. Darker.

The human just waves. Waits. Holds something out in its hand. Danny doesn’t care. He can’t see it and he’s not going to go over there.

The human makes more words Danny can’t hear. Blech. He wonders what everyone knows here that he doesn’t. Is it French? Is it German? Jazz—

Thinking about Jazz makes his heart hurt.

Danny curls up further into the dark spots on his bed.

The human steps past Danny’s curtain. Danny does hiss, now, something long and low and halfway out of a human hearing range.

The human pauses. Its black haired-head tilts. It says—something else. Its tone is still gentle.

Danny doesn’t trust it. But it doesn’t get any closer, either. It only…holds out a hand.

There’s something in that hand.

It’s a trap, it has to be. But—

The alien said that they had friends in this tower. That the humans here are…safe. Danny doesn’t believe it. Danny is afraid to believe it.

But one of them gave him food.

…And the younger ones feed him all the time.

So maybe. Danny. Maybe he can. He flinches and he leans forward.

Danny can. He can’t see most things. But something aches in his skull where he is meant to see color and shape and familiarity, and something in his melted brain whispers wait, watch.

Danny’s back arches.

He waits. He watches.

…The object doesn’t do anything. The human simply sets it on Danny’s side table, and then it’s an object. A mostly white, somewhat red object. The other colors might be blue, or gray; they’re not distinct enough to be distinguishable in Danny’s mostly mush eyes. It’s oblong, and sort of round and—

Danny jerks upright. He snatches the item off of the table as quickly as he can, brings it as close to his eyes as he can— IT’S A ROCKET!!!! It is!!!! With fuel thrusters and everything!! If Danny had his whole brain he thinks that he could even recognize which one!!

He purrs, and he purrs, and he purrs, and he takes his pillow and he settles the hard plastic into his kind-of-damp (but mostly dry!) pillows and leans into it, happy to have this thing he likes and can recognize!!

Fine. Danny can like this human. When it comes back with little pills in a paper cup, it bravely gets closer, so Danny can see black hair pulled back, a tail swinging behind her, a tinge of red under a mostly-opaque white medical gown, and gold bracelets on her arms.

…Danny touches the bracelets to investigate before he can even be scared. They shiver with energy. Danny’s fragile form shivers back.

The human spends a lot of time with words Danny can’t hear on the paper cup, and she pulls out each little pill inside so that she can say more things, show him what it looks like, let him smell each capsule and tablet.

When the buzzing human comes back with a vibrato of joycurio/us!/joy in its wake, eager to see Danny as he is relieved to see it, Danny shows him the little paper cup.

The buzzing human trills with relief! Relief! Relief!

…That’s got to be safe enough, right? …Right?

Danny…

It’s been a while since he tried to dry-swallow medicine down his torn esophagus, but everyone’s immediate rush to find him water makes the swallow easier than Danny might have thought.

Some of the medicine is going to make him sleepy. Danny remembers enough about medicine to remember that. The thought of being vulnerable and not able to wake up is scary; but if Danny is going to get better, he’s going to have to trust that not every human wants to make sample slides out of his organs and jam needle-long electrodes into his brain, and he will have to fall asleep and not cry about it.

The cup of water the quickquickquick human gets him is so nice. His claws clink against the ceramic of the mug. Most of the liquid actually makes it into his mouth, and some of it even into his throat.

Danny lays down, pulls the rocket ship closer to his fragile form, and purrs. The fastquick human takes Danny’s hand so that he’s not alone.

At some point, his paper eyelids shut.

[catgirlviscera]

your hands tremble at the controls, and the cold steel shudders beneath your feet. how long have you been fighting, again? 

your commanding officer orders you around like a dog. back at base, the maintenance crew have started talking to you like one. you can't remember the last time you were referred to as "she" instead of "it".

it sickens you deep inside, but you endure it. it's all worth it, you think, just to be in the cockpit once more. to feel the dopamine rush with every salvo of missiles, every shot from the autocannon. it felt like heaven to you once, but now you've grown dependent on it – your body long since having been dulled to the pleasures of the outside world. you don't know when it happened, but it's become the only way you can feel anything anymore. 

in the distance, you see the rebel hideout. to those who lived there long ago, it would have been a place of learning… but to your CO, it's just another target. and she orders you to blow it up.

you try to resist it, but the conditioning is too strong. your finger pulls the trigger on its own, and you feel a guilty pleasure overcome your frail little body as every missile finds its mark. mission accomplished.

or so you thought. as the dust clears, standing there before you, amongst the wreckage, is a girl.

your CO orders you to quit gawking at her and finish the job. but for some reason, your finger seizes on the trigger. 

unperturbed, she slowly walks towards you. you've scarcely begun to realize what's happening before she's knocking on the hatch. against your better judgement, you let her in. 

she's an angel. of which god, she wouldn't say.

she asks you why you're doing all this. 

you tell her you're just doing your job, but the words seem to fall like paint out of your mouth. you both know that's not even close to the truth.

you break down. you don't want to do these things, you tell her, but it's the only way they'll let you into the cockpit again. the only way you can feel like a person again. so much has already been taken from you, and you cannot bear to lose one more good thing.

she holds your face in her hands. her skin is slightly warm, and so, so soft to the touch. 

she asks you what your name is. all this time, you'd forgotten you had one. 

oh, little warrior, she says. what have they done to you? 

she traces her finger through the air, as if looping it through an invisible string connected to your mind. then she pulls, and you can feel it snap.

for the first time in a long, long while, the fog lifts from your mind, and you can think clearly again. memories rush back to you, of who you were before the net-link wiped it all away. you find yourself crying, for reasons you cannot place. 

slowly, you begin to realize just how much the war has taken from you. you tell her you need to get away, to break the cycle of violence. and yet, even as the words pass your lips, your heart just isn't in them. why?

it's your mech – Her. all this time, She's been there for you. in truth, She's become a part of you – you don't know what you would do without Her. 

the angel listens patiently to you as you tell her this, saying nothing. then her eyes close, for what feels like an eternity. but eventually, they open up again, and she simply says…

i'll keep them busy. take her with you.

you fade back into reality. your commanding officer is barking orders at you over the radio, but her voice seems so far away now, just like the war happening around you. it's just you and Her now, the rest of the world having long since melted away. 

without even thinking about it, you switch off the radio, activate your primary thrusters, and take off. you don't know where you're going, but you know you'll be okay. you have each other, after all.