#i tried using a cube bomb and blowing that up next to it to give it some speed. that didn't work

[viulus]

So I haven't been updating anyone on my BotW progress, not really, but I felt like doing that right now.

Last night I finally made my way up to my first Devine Beast (Vah Medoh), and with that I also got to see the first flashback with Revali, and... I think he deserved to die in the Calamity, actually

[detroitbydark]

Every Dog Has His Day

Chapter 3

Characters: Hound/OC

Summary: Good boys, fuck boys, and the things between

Warnings: Aggression toward women.

A/N: does anyone feel like I should put Mando’a translations in at the end? Would it be helpful?

——-

“Good morning GAR. It’s 0400. What does “o” stand for? Well I can think of a few things but let’s go with Oh maker, I’m ready to hit the rack. Any boys in white care to join me?”

Hound would. In a heartbeat. In a Coruscant minute.

Hound is in the gym early. Really early. He’s never needed much sleep to function at his peak but 0400 is stupid o’clock even for him. He passes the time until the mess opens lifting while Grizzer snores near his armor across the room. Right now the massiff is using his rolled up kama as a pillow and Hound wonders idly how hard it’s going to be to clean the drool off. He’s alone with his thoughts and the radio.

He falls into the steady rhythm of sets and reps. He wasn’t a small vod by any means. There’s been a joke in his batch that the settings had malfunctioned on his pod. He was only a half an inch taller, but he was thicker than his batchmates, not commando big but enough to be noticeable in a line up. Lifting weights kept his bulk from atrophying. He didn’t mind the small layer of fluff over his muscles but he wanted them strong and ready for whatever the Grand Army called him to do.

The radio plays quietly over the weight room’s audio channel. Nuna’s smokey voice is a highlight too late to save a very bad week. Two bombings and a half dozen threats (most, copy cats) had kept the Guard on edge and high alert. He and Grizzer had worked them all, tracking and searching wreckage for survivors. Hound glances at his partner. One too many dead bodies had left the massiff feeling dejected and down. Not even his favorite tug toy or a big meaty bantha knuckle has been able to cheer him up. Hound isn’t feeling much better.

He’s not sure what was causing the surge but he knows he’d give just about anything for it to be over with. On top of that (and a far better distraction than the chaos and death of terrorist attacks), there was still the matter of Nuna herself that had him spun out of sorts. They’d had fun at the Fete, even if it had only been a short time. She hadn’t been faking that and he certainly hadn’t. Maybe he’d come on too strong with the call but, honestly, he’d thought it was cute. Maybe he’d embarrassed her?

He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. It was how he’d gotten his name. Tenacious like a hound. The trainers on Kamino had joked that once he was on a trail he wasn’t giving up ‘til he completed his prime objective.

His prime objective now was getting Nuna Skii’s commlink. And a date.

It didn’t matter that Rule had teased him after his on-air brush-off or that Ryk had given him a look that said he didn’t believe he'd had lunch with anybody let alone Nuna Skii. Hound knew though, and he knew that she’d had fun. If she hadn't, why had she smiled so brightly when he’d asked her questions? Why had she braced her hand on his arm and dissolved into laughter when he said something that was, admittedly, not as funny as it sounded in his head?

The barbell comes to rest on the rack with a clatter. Grizzer looks up from his nap, his great tongue licking lazily at his maw.

“Do you think I’m being stupid?”

The massiff stares blankly.

“Well, yeah, but she did seem interested.”

Grizzer rises slowly, stretching with a groan before ambling over to his partner and laying his head in Hound’s lap. He manages to roll onto his back without losing contact. Hound reaches down to scratch his leathery belly.

“Yeah, well, there’s something about her I really like. I think I should try again.”

Grizzer whines.

“But how, you ask? I’m not sure, bud.”

“In bigger news, it’s the end of the week and I think we all deserve a bit of a treat, don’t you?”

Grizzer turns toward Nuna’s voice and lets out a happy sound. Hound laughs.

“No treats before breakfast, Grizz. You know the rules.” The massiff offers his handler a sad pair of eyes and Hound shakes his head. “Not gonna fall for that.”

“Tonight ladies and lads we’re having ladies’ night at 79’s. Come find yourself a battle buddy and if one of you lucky listeners can find me I may have a special surprise just for you!”

Hound listens intently. Ryk and Rule were sure to be down for a night out after the week they’d had. The Commander has been busy keeping his assistant working late so he likely wouldn’t be game - not that Hound could blame him - but Thire might be convinced. Since the scuffle with the 501st boys a few weeks back the buddy system has been in play. The more the merrier as far as he was concerned. Now all he had to do was find a way to talk to her.

———

“If you pull on the skirt one more time, I swear to the maker I will end you.”

Nuna rolls her eyes at Tully’s threat. The skirt was too short and the Pantoran was out of her fekking mind if she thought this wouldn’t be the way the rest of the night played out.

“I dressed you pretty for a reason. Stop trying to ruin it.”

“I look like a cased sausage.” She tries - and fails - to keep the whine from her voice. Tully softens and grips her shoulders gently.

“First off, if that's the case, you are the sexiest sausage I’ve ever seen.” Nuna stifles a laugh behind a pout. “Second,” Nuna winces as her friend punches her in the shoulder, “There’s more where that came from if I hear one more second of negative self talk tonight. Got me?”

“Kriff Tull-“ Nuna rubs at her shoulder. “Fine, I’m the sexiest sausage Coruscant has ever seen. Just don’t hurt me anymore.”

The Pantoran laughs and leans forward, placing a smacking kiss on the shorter woman’s head. “I love you and your issues,” she mumbles.

“Can we just have a drink now?”

79’s is packed. Shebs to gett’se. There’s the usual mix of clones from various divisions and battalions crowded in small groups of grey and white with pops of color signaling who they were to the world. There’s also a large contingent of women - every species, color and shape known to man. Nuna smiles happily as she brings her drink to her lips only to frown a moment later at the deep plum smear of lipstick on the glass.

“No transfer my ass,” she grumbles as she takes another long pull. Tully bought the first round, and whatever it is is sweet on Nuna’s tongue like star cherry candy with the familiar burn of booze behind it. It’s good but if she fills her night with more of them she’ll be nursing a killer hangover come morning. “I’ve got the next round.”

“As if I was going to let you get away without paying your fair share.”

Nuna rolls her eyes as she finishes the last of her drink. She’s already feeling just a little bit more loose and relaxed. Her hips move in a mindless, lazy figure-eight to the driving thud of the bass. Not her favorite, but Nuna loved to dance nearly as much as she loved music. Well maybe not that much, but certainly a close second.

Back home on Irmenu both had been frowned upon by the Priesthood and if they didn’t approve it was almost heretical to go against them. It hadn’t been ‘til she’d been exiled with her parents that she’d heard her first real music - outside of mindless chanting - and her first experience with really letting go and letting her body take over. It was freeing. Liberating. It was at that moment that she’d known she wanted to work around it, to be part of it somehow, for the rest of her life. It had been the driving force for so long that she had a hard time looking outside of it. Maybe that was how she’d gotten to nearly 25 and had nothing but a paycheck and an empty apartment to keep her company. Tully tries to say something over the noise of the speakers.

She had Tully too. A better best friend no girl has ever had.

“Have you finished yours yet?” The Pantoran holds up her glass, shaking the lone ice cubes around for show. Nuna holds hers up to show hers in the same state of emptiness.

“Ready for another?”

“You have to ask? Pony up girl. It’s your turn.”

There was something nice about the anonymity of her radio persona. As she moves through the crowd she doesn’t need to worry about being recognized or stopped by a fan looking for a picture. The one disappointment was that she still had to wait at the bar like everyone else.

She taps on the bar once to get the tender’s attention. The Twi’lek woman gives her a nod and the finger gesture for ‘one moment’ before quickly changing it to ‘two moments.’ Nuna blows a breath from the corner of her mouth. Ok, maybe a little notoriety wouldn’t be so bad once in a while. She’s waiting patiently, hip pressed against the bar, booted foot tapping along to the beat when someone taps her on the shoulder.

“Nuna?” She cringes at the voice, doing her best to press a convincing smile into place as she turns. “Hey, I thought that was you.” She flinches when a long thin finger flicks at one of the curls she’d managed to cultivate in her short hair. It bounces merrily as she looks into the face of the last man she’d hoped to see.

She only has one to go off of but, as far as exes went, Nuna was fairly certain she had one of the worst. All of the things she’d once found incredibly handsome about Alistar S’uun were now… what did Tully refer to him as?… ah yes, smarmy.

She’d been lonely and wholly too innocent to get involved with him when she’d first arrived in the Triple-Zero, but that hadn’t stopped her from losing her heart - and other things - to the arrogant son of a bantha. He’d been all slicked back hair and clothes that screamed money. He’d taken her to nice places, introduced her to important people. She’d thought it was love until she’d walked in on him and his assistant one day when she’d stopped by to bring him lunch.

To say it ended badly was an understatement, but she’d been lucky. She hadn’t seen him in nearly a standard year. Lucky until tonight.

“Alistar,” she greets, tucking her hair back behind her ears, as if it would stop him from touching it if he wanted to. Alistar did what he wanted when he wanted, and you either dealt with it or got out of the way.

“You look great. Lost a few of those troublesome pounds?”

A wave of annoyance washes over her as she glances back over her shoulder and toward the bartender. She just needed her karking drinks so she could make her escape. The Twi’lek is still occupied further down the bar.

“How have you been?” she asks, ignoring his questions and the undertones it entailed.

“Oh you know, doing a bit of this and that. Father is letting me take some of reins on the new acquisitions-“

“That’s lovely, Alistar. I’m very happy for you,” she lies through her teeth. His father was a shipping magnate and nepotism had been good to Alistar.

Nuna glances toward where she’d left Tully and sees a flash of red and white talking to her. Her heart stutters only to realize that it’s not the now somewhat familiar armor Hound wore. The trooper is somewhat smaller, less broad through the middle. The tell-tale snarl is missing from his helmet.

“I hear that little radio show of yours is still doing well.”

Here it comes, she thinks. This was always how it started. Alistar would make some little undermining comment and she’d get upset. Inevitably she’d be crying and he’d tell her she needed to get a sense of humor. Nuna could see it all unfolding before her eyes, but this time she wasn’t going to fall for it.

“I always knew you had a face for radio-” he smiles widely holding his hands up, “Oops! you know what I meant, right Nunz?”

“Yeah, Al, I got you loud and clear.” Her smile is forced and she grits her teeth with such force she’s surprised one doesn’t crack. “So it’s been lovely catching up but I’m going to go find Tull-“ His hand catches her upper arm as she turns to leave. She regrets wearing the sleeveless top Tully had picked out. She doesn’t like the feel of his skin against her own.

“Still friends with the Pant? Maker, you really are desperate aren’t you? Stay and talk for a while. I’m better company.” She shakes off his grip, his smile now beginning to look just as fake as the one she’d been wearing.

She promised herself wasn’t going to take the bait, really she wasn’t, she was better than that… but he’d brought Tully into it.

“She cares about me more than you ever did.” The smile is gone now and Aliatar’s pale brows arch up in surprise at the venom in her voice.

“So are you laying like a cold fish for her to fuck you too? Low standards-“

She turns to move again, puts one foot in front of the other, before he yanks her back. The heel of her boot slips and her stumble only makes his grip tighten. Her arm twists in a way that sends pain shooting like wildfire from her shoulder to the tips of her fingers.

“Don’t you dare walk-“

Nuna had never hurt so much as a fly in her life, but the blinding rage that rises up from her gut does something to her. Before she can even comprehend what she’s doing her balled up fist is connecting solidly with Alistar’s face. He doubles over while Nuna whines, snapping her hand back to her chest before beginning to shake it roughly. The pain she’d felt in her arm was nothing to what her knuckles were feeling now.

“Kriff, Kriff, Kriff,” she grits out, flexing her fingers.

“Why you dumb little nerf cow-“ She glances up to see Alistar take a step toward her. Something akin to fear prickles at the back of her senses. She’d seen that look before in his eyes. It scared her now like it had back then.

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” Red and white armor steps into Nunas view. “What seems to be the problem here?” Hound's voice is easy going as his head swings from Nuna to Alistar, who is rubbing his jaw, his other finger jabbing accusingly in Nuna’s direction.

“This little bitch-“

“Alright buddy” Hound holds a hand up calmingly “I’m going to stop you right there. Let me clarify-“ he turns to Nuna fully. Her heart stutters as he pulls the hand she’s cradling close to her chest up for inspection. “What’s going on here, sweetheart?” he asks quietly.

“I was just trying to leave and he grabbed me. It hurt,” she tries to tamp down the tremble in her voice, “I just wanted him to let go.”

Hound gives her an unreadable look. His thumbs stroke gently over her knuckles. Something warm springs to life in her belly that takes the edge off her discomfort.

“Hey, you! Clone,” Alistar’s voice rises up, “I demand this woman be arrested. I’ve been assaulted. You’re in the Guard. Do your job.”

There’s a tic in Hound’s jaw, really the only thing that gives the slightest hint of his annoyance as he turns back to the other man. A small crowd is gathering around them, mostly clones with a few civilians scattered in.

“Ok friend, first it’s Sargeant. Second,” he glances around and Nuna sees familiar colors of clone armor; blues, yellows, and reds surrounding them, “From my vantage point it looked like you were hurting the lady.” The clones around them nod in agreement.

“Oh this is just fracking great!” Alistar laughs, throwing his head back and taking a deep breath before glaring between Hound and Nuna. “You’re fucking her aren’t you?” he spits at Hound before rounding on Nuna, “You’re fucking government property now? That’s low even for you.”

Nuna feels tears welling up. She didn’t want to do anything now but go home and get away from the looks she just knew were coming her way. She glances down at her feet. When she looks up Hound is grabbing Alistar by the shoulders. His movements are quick, efficient, and practiced.

Hound tips Alistar forward just enough to bring an armored knee up into the other man’s unprotected gut. Alistar doubles over with a strangled wheeze, gripping at the bar for support before sinking to his knees. Hound turns his soft eyes to her.

“You’ve never punched someone.” It’s not a question. He takes her hand again, thumb stroking over her tender knuckles. “Wiggle your thumb,” he encourages, offering her a bright smile when she does.

“Ok. Good. It’s not broken,” he announces to himself, “Never wrap your fingers around your thumb. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

Nuna nods mutely.

“So what you want to do is-“ he proceeds to shape her hand into a fist. His big gloved hands completely envelop her smaller one as he tucks her thumb against the outside of her balled fingers. He presses it firmly as if to make the point that this was where it was supposed to be.

From the way he’s acting, she’s more inclined to believe she’s part of one of the ‘girl power’ self defense classes at the community center around the corner from her apartment as opposed to a clone bar. Hound is pleasant- no, he’s nearly perky.

“See how much nicer that looks? Certainly safer for your hand.” Nuna hears a few clones around them hum in agreement. Surreal. “Now, it wasn’t a bad first swing, but you didn’t follow through.”

“Kriffing… seven hells,” Alistar wheezes behind them. Hound makes a sound in his throat to catch her attention from the other man struggling to stand up.

“What you need to do next time is follow through. The target isn’t his jaw. It’s this magic little spot behind his jaw. Do you understand?”

Nuna’s eyes are drawn to Alistar who is rising to full height, murder written in his eyes.

“Hound-“ she tries to warn him but he merrily waves her off.

“Let me show you, ok?” The big man turns without missing a beat and his fist makes its best attempt at going through Alistar’s jaw. Her ex crumples into a heap, platinum hair disheveled, onto the sticky bar floor.

“Kriffing glass jawed pretty boy,” Hound mumbles as he turns back to her just as jovial and happy as he’d been devouring the nerf skewers and talking about Grizzer at the fete.

She hears a small cheer of “Oya!” go through the gathered ranks as a few clones grab the unconscious man by the shoulder and the rest begin to disperse back to their various areas.

“See? Just like that.”

Nuna swallows hard, bites back a nervous smile and finds her voice. “Just like that?”

“Yup.” Hound rocks back on his heels. “So do you wanna come have a drink with me- us?”

He sounds so hopeful, like pulling the whole Jedi Knight in shining armor bit hadn’t won him at least a little favor. She nods and he gestures for her to move ahead of him, leaving the other troopers to see her unconscious ex out the door.

Hound takes up a position behind her, his hand hovering over her hip to guide her toward the table his brothers stood around. Tully is already there with a serious look on her face.

“Are you ok?” She takes Nuna by the shoulders, looks her over.

“I’m good. I promise.”

“Maker I hate that no good piece of bantha spit.” One of the Guard behind her chokes out a laugh. Tully’s eyes fly to Hound, narrowed and assessing. “So this is the guy?”

“I’m the guy? What guy?” He looks at Nuna questioningly. Something mischievous sparkles in his gentle brown eyes.

Nuna feels her cheeks heat up as she bites out her friend's name. Tully ignores her.

“You bought her lunch at the Festival of Life?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And you called into the show to ask her on a date?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Tully looks to Nuna and then back to Hound. “What’s up with the ma’am?”

Hound rubs at the back of his neck. His brothers snicker in the background. “Courtesy, ma’am?”

“Call me Tully,” she orders shortly, finally relaxing. Hound breathes out a sigh of relief.

“Vod? You gonna introduce us to your little friend?”

[cartoonfangirl1218]

5 times Leonard was surprisingly affectionate

1 They had been loitering at the New York Zoo and Sara was just uncharacteristically frigidity. She kept inching towards the bird section that was chaotic with sounds of macaw squawks, dove coos and the never ending screech of some tropical bird that Leonard hated. The noise was driving him nuts.

Stein had advised that it would be a great place for a 3rd date as that if they had an awkward pause, there was an automatic conversation starter if a lion ever got loose. Right now he wished a lion would go on a rampage right now and kill those stupid birds.

Sara really seemed to enjoy the trip so far, he didn't get the big deal it was just a bunch of animals in caging staring back at you. Or just sleeping.

Sara just smiled and dragged him to the bird aisle. Leonard couldn't help but give a small smirk. He really liked her smile, it was bright and casual. Yeah, that's it, casual. Not too big or that blinding smile that made him feel warm all over.

Just casual.

He was with someone he trusted. Not a daily feeling in Leonard Snart's life. He hadn't felt safe since he killed his father with the cold gun those many months ago. Or was it a year?

But with Sara it was different kind of safety. An emotional one. That she understood what it was like to be one of the bad guys. The feeling that no matter what you did, you couldn't be redeemed. The vulnerableness of being with all those "heroes," the disbelief that you could ever become that good.

She went through it to. She got through it and somehow it made him feel hopeful that he could too.

Sara raced past the tropical birds and scanned the name cards. Then a beep sounded. From Rip.

"Savage, 1997." was his message.

"Oh,” Sara sighed, shook her head and strode confidentially out of the zoo.

At the Waverider, the team was leaving the base after Rip informed them that getting Savage before the Team had formed might be their only chance at saving Carter and maybe getting another muscle. Sara was leaving to her room to get a katana, when Leonard stopped at her door.

"I got this before we left." He handed her a wooden canary that started to play a simple tune.

"How did you?" Sara gently took the canary, a giddy smile unconsciously spreading over her face. "I have my ways."

2 She had been shot by Nyssa and was lying on the hospital bed getting stitched up. She stated that she didn't mind the pain, it was numb to her, she had worse things. But Leonard could tell she was in pain.

Just not the physical kind.

Leonard was aware of her past with Nyssa and he could just imagine the hurt of her former lover shooting her in the shoulder.

To be fair, Nyssa didn't know who Sara was. She was just raised as Ra's daughter, to kill. Sara had been standing between her and Chronos. He also knew Sara was berating herself for getting shot, for being weak.

"Sara, you can't blame yourself." "Yes, I can!" Sara protested "I knew she didn't know me, and I kept telling her what a good person she was. It was just stupid. I'm so stupid. Ugh!”

"No you're not. You're badass but not stupid."

"This is not the time." Sara glared.

"Fine but I'm taking your night watch" - Night watch was when two team members stayed at the base to study any activity from Savage then shifted to another two later in the earlier morning. Today was her turn to watch with Stein and Leonard was suppose to take the later one with Ray.

"Leonard, I'm shot not disabled, I'll do it." Sara insisted. "No, you won't." "Yes I will." "No, Sara." He leaned close to her, whispering in her ear, "It's okay to be hurt right now. Just sit and relax" Then walked away.

Sara remained in her bed like Leonard told her and in the morning she heard the toy canary by her bedside, singing and an exhausted Leonard was asleep in the chair next to her.

3 The third time was four months after they made it official. They were boyfriend and girlfriend and life couldn't be any easier, well love wise, the world was still in danger.

They were watching the Matrix on the couch and Sara had fell asleep at some point when the Matrix exploded.

Sara because of her assassin tendencies and the probability everyone tried to kill her in her sleep was a very light sleeper.

Sara hadn't been sleeping lately for various reasons, Nyssa being one of them. 2nd timeline Nyssa shooting her had been a recurring nightmare.

The sound of the Matrix exploding had been surprisingly calming, like how she wanted to kill someone and that just watching someone in pain made her feel better.

Sara had woken up to someone brushing her hair, she was about to stand up and ask what he was doing when she felt him lay his head on hers then he put her head on a pillow and walked away.

Sara shrugged and went back to sleep, probably some his brooding walks of thoughtfulness.

A few seconds, she heard him tiptoe back and put the blanket over her.

4 "Sara what were you doing?" Rip yelled.

Leonard cringed as Sara frowned. Sara had just killed a flight attendant that was preventing her from getting into Savage's private jet.

The killing had accomplished the goal to get into the jet, but Savage still escaped, Sara was covered in blood and the news reporters were more than eager to get the headline of Victor Scolia's attempted murder, assassin in jail.

Then the team having to go to jail to bust her out hadn't made Rip's twitch any better.

"My job to get Savage," Sara replied stiffly.

"By killing the guy. You could have just hit him on the head and be done with but now all of Cincinnati has your name on America's Most Wanted." Rip continued on with tirade on how she must use simpler means such as a small blow to the head to make people unconscious, not dead.

Leonard gave a small internal sigh himself. He knew how difficult it was for her. The spent many nights were Sara discussed her bloodlust and how she wanted more action. She needed to feel the blood over her hands, smooth and sticky and know that she was alive because she ended someone else.

Besides it was more practical, sealed the witness more quickly. But since his little deal with Scarlet he had resided these urges. Then again, he hadn't been resurrected from death in a Lazerus pit so this must be a different level of bloodlust.

Sara strode to her, poised as usual. But he noticed a slight dejected slump. She knew she screwed up It was best to leave her alone.

But the part of being a supportive boyfriend wouldn't let him.

Sara was sitting in her bed, staring at the wall.

"I had to kill him. For myself. Like a monster," Sara muttered, vaguely registering his presence.

Rather than doing another one of the talks that had been played over before, he sat next to her. Sara leaned against his chest and screamed in frustration. He slowly patted her shoulder.

5 She attempted to cook for him for their first anniversary. It was a simple meal, just some mashed potatoes and an omelet but it went wrong.

Really wrong.

She had burned both the egg and potatoes and left the bottoms scorched. She had tried to make it up by posting ice cubes to lessen the heat. Leonard felt a little fearful for his stomach but gave a shaky smile in return and put on his best poker face.

"Enjoy," Sara sat down with her own glass of water and played with her eggs.

Leonard noticed the way she looked at him worriedly. "She really wants me to like it.” Leonard thought and decided faking until he made it would be the best option. Just this once and it was for her.

He took a forceful of egg and shoved it in. It tasted awful. The grease and the smell of smoke filled his nose and mouth but Leonard valiantly continued and ate it all. Breaking a chair leg in the process of trying not to let his pain show.

The next morning Leonard was excused from work due to food poisoning that he blamed at the Taiwanese McDonalds.

Though Sara just knew it had to be her cooking. But he didn't say a word, he just smiled and ate those eggs.

And that was anniversary gift itself.

And the 1 Leonard had been in the shower in the men's room. Staring himself in the mirro r in disgust. He had ran into Lewis once more during their missions in the timeline and the scars across the front of his chest glared mockingly at him.

Of all those years of obeying the dead bastard.

Nothing big occurred between them, not wanting to mess up the timeline and such but seeing him again just brought back all those memories.

He pulled on his parka and strode into the HQ. He hit the table over and over with his fist, cursing.

Sara walked in, "What is it?" She asked soothingly.

"The bastard" he replied "The damn bastard that did this to me. The bastard that treated me like his flunkies for diamonds. Couldn't hold his damn liquor. The loser doesn't know anything. He took my childhood and put me in juvie he put a fucking bomb in my sister's head just so I worked with him because he couldn't do it himself! I have spent half my life in hell!"

"Hit me," Sara commanded, holding up the palm of her hands to hit. Leonard hit immediately, the impact only pushed her a few feet backwards.

”Harder." she insisted.

Leonard continued to hit her hands until her hands turned red and he was kneeling to his knees with effort.

Sara quietly lifted his head and hugged him. His cold body melted into the warmth of her arms

[tsumtsum-into-omiomi]

CHAPTER FOUR: THE PINK DIMENSION

warning(s): cursing

word count: 1.8k

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AO3

Located near the centre of Taishi, Inarizaki High is the town's pride for its design and prestige. The school used to house the prefecture's royalties and even though it has gone through multiple renovations over the years, its Japanese castle architectural elements are still apparent all over the school's exterior. Apart from its unique structure, academic practitioners from all over the world also flock the institution for its symposiums, which are held throughout every school term to discuss multiple magical subjects.

 The school's main building is its Rectory and it would be the first thing for one to notice even from afar. The elegant white walls are in stark contrast to its black, pointy roof with golden details forged onto it. Other parts of the school have the same colour palette as well. The school would reach its peak of beauty during spring, when the pink flowers of cherry blossom trees planted around the vast fields are in full bloom.                                                                                                                                                                                    

Next to the Rectory, the Potions faculty building appears small compared to it, when in fact, the faculty is the second largest after Pentagrams. Its roof manages to reach only half of the rectory's structure, making it the tallest than the rest of the faculty buildings (the Pentagrams faculty only wins in size, not height). A group of students can be seen exiting the Potions building’s main arch as school session for the day is over, including you and Suna, who are walking together towards the gate.

 The sunny afternoon sky is decorated with puffy clouds, which are moving lazily in the wind's direction. Rays of sunshine threaten to dazzle your eyes but the cherry blossom trees lining up the stone walkway shade you from them. Soft breeze blows some petals into your way as you enjoy the scent of spring that wafts in the air. You are glad that there are no signs of rain at all today since that would meddle with your after-school plans.

 "Gosh, this school is so big, I swear I feel like all of my cousins come here," Suna complains while faking a smile at a first year girl, who is hanging out under one of the trees with her friends.

 "Well, literally everyone in Taishi studies here. What do you expect?" you laugh, attention now directed at him and not the surrounding anymore.

 "For them to go study somewhere else, I guess," he retorts, sliding his hands into his pants' pockets. The smile on his face has disappeared.

 "At least, your sibling is not here," your eyes catch the twins waiting for you under a tree upfront. They also notice your appearance and wave at you two.

 "Oh, shut up. If not for them, you won't have any friends," Suna raises a hand at Atsumu and Osamu.

 "Whatever. You sure you don't wanna come?" you ask Suna one last time before parting ways with him.

 Suna shakes his head, "yeah, I wanna go home."

 "Do you need anything?"

 "Oh, right. Can you get me some stocks? Sparrow and jellyfish," he takes his wallet out to pass some money to you.

 "Won't they go bad before next week's class?" you accept the notes from him.

 "It's already Friday, class is on Monday. I think it would be fine," Suna waves his hand, dismissing your concern.

 "Okay, see ya," you swerve towards the twins. Suna echoes a goodbye behind you and keeps walking.

 "He's really not coming?" Atsumu asks when you are within hearing distance.

 "Yeah, but he asked me to get some stuff for him," you respond before stopping in front of them.

 "Lazy ass," Osamu disses. "Anyway, can I teleport?"

 "Bitch, no," you and Atsumu say at the same time.

 "Your sense of direction is so shitty, it'd take forever to get to Kudo Street," you pull a face.

 Atsumu then adds, "a lot of people are using the travel dimension at this hour. You'll surely hit someone although I don't know how is that  even possible since it's fucking huge in there."

 "But if I don't practise, I won't get better at teleporting??" Osamu argues.

 Atsumu lets out an exasperated sigh, "fine, you can teleport us on the way home. Let's go," he starts walking to lead the way. You and Osamu follow him from behind, heading towards the end of the walkway where the teleportation station is located at.

 The teleportation station consists of five open top cubic spaces lined together, conjoined on their sides. Each cube fits at least five people and has three transparent glass walls with a white marble floor, where you are supposed to draw your pentagrams on. Two auxiliary police officers are on guard to control the flow of traffic, making sure that the students are queueing up to use the cubicles. At the end of the station, you see a group of younger pupils, whom you assume are waiting for their guardians to pick them up because they're not eligible to travel on their own yet. Teleporting licenses can only be acquired once you are sixteen years old.

 You, Atsumu and Osamu get in one of the lines and wait for your turn. Every time a cubicle teleports people, you can hear swooshing noises as they dissipate into coloured light sparks and vanish from sight in a blink of an eye. Before long, the pair of siblings in front of you enter the cubicle you're lining up for and you're now at the front of the line. The elder sister draws the teleportation pentagram, her face scrunched up in concentration, and you watch as she conjures blue sparks on the marble floor.  

 That's when Atsumu drops the bomb on you.

 "You teleport us," he nudges your elbow with his.

 You and Osamu look at him wide-eyed, "bitch, what??"

 "Why won't you let me teleport, if you're letting her?!" Osamu slaps Atsumu's shoulder with the back of his hand.

 "Bitch, I said you will on the way back, didn't I??" Atsumu readjusts his bag's strap that shifted because of Osamu's hit just now.

 "Nooooo, Tsumu-nii channnnn!" you whine with a pout, swinging Atsumu's arm in an attempt to change his mind, "I don't want to teleport!"

 "And that's why you're getting shitty at it," he shakes you off before pushing you into the now empty cubicle, "go."

 "Fuck," you clench your fists but do as you’re told anyway since you don't want to hold the line up with your siblings’ bickering. Plus, Atsumu's right, you haven't been practising ever since you got your license a few months ago.

 Once you, Atsumu and Osamu gather in the middle of the cubicle, you inhale a deep breath whilst recollecting the pentagram shape for teleportation. In order to accommodate the number of people teleporting, your pentagram has to be huge and made to fit the whole floor. This will definitely consume a lot of energy. You sigh at the thought.

 "She doesn't want to do it," Osamu tries again, "let me!"

 "Shut up, Samu. Give her a second. Come on, you're gonna be okay," Atsumu encourages you with a pat on the shoulder.

 You click your tongue at him, "I hate you."

 Pointing a finger out at the marble underneath, you begin drawing invisible lines from memory that transform into yellow light sparks on the floor. It's a struggle but you manage to complete the shape that now surrounds you and the twins. Due to its size, the pentagram's glow this time is almost blinding and the fizzing noise that it produces is loud in your ears.

 "Teleport," you whisper.

 The hissing pentagram then floats and spins around the three of you as it nets your bodies tightly. You can feel its particles squeezing to decompose you into molecules. There is stiffness in your muscles and joints that prevents you from moving. The bright light forces you to shut your eyes while the sound is shrieking in your ears. You grit your teeth together and brace yourself for what's to come next.

 The sensations become almost unbearable. But before it could get any worse, you find yourself already dissipated into tiny yellow sparks of lights, floating in a different dimension that you're familiar with. The pentagram that you drew has turned into a glowing net, holding your and the twins' dematerialised bodies together. Your mind, still intact even though your body is not, notices other nets of bodies swooshing pass by to get to their destinations through the pink abstract space that you're in.

 It's bright here, but not overwhelming. There's no sense of temperature, only the seldom Bernoulli pull by other nets speeding by. You wonder how it smells since you have no nose to take a sniff. Time is not relevant here; you always find yourself arriving at your destination at the same time you left. Often, the only important thing is your sense of direction (of which, Osamu lacks) because the only thing guiding you is a huge ass ancient wooden compass floating in the space above you like a moon (so you feel like it's always following you).

 It's a trippy place.

 You collect yourself, taking control of the net to carry everyone to Kudo Street- which is situated up north. One push is all it takes for you to zoom through the crowd as the whizzing sound of air friction envelopes you. With awareness of the traffic around, you navigate your way carefully to avoid accidents (it gets super messy when disintegrated bodies collide).

 Travelling in the Pink Dimension after school is like walking at a train station during peak hour. Everyone moves at haste in whatever direction they want to. There is not much that can be done to control individuals in a vast space as such. The only rule that applies to travellers is that they have to teleport to and from stations. This is to prevent practitioners from reappearing at a dangerous spot in the  physical world when they arrive at their destinations. If you're found to be teleporting from or to an unassigned place, you'll get a ticket for it.

 You stay on your path while trying to search for Kudo Street's teleportation station that is supposed to be some floating Greek marble vases. You would say it only took you a few seconds to arrive but time doesn't exist here, so when you see ten vases at your two o'clock, you're pretty sure it doesn't matter anyway.

 You choose an Amphora vase that no one was going for and jump into its opening. It becomes dark for a moment before the vase vomits you, Atsumu and Osamu out onto a marble floor, in three pieces. Your brothers stumble a bit before finding their grounds again while you, on the other hand, are bowing down with hands on your knees, panting to catch your breath. You can feel sweat breaking on your forehead and temple.

 "Fuck, you two are SO heavy."

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

AO3

A/N: where would you teleport to if you could since Ms. Corona is making all airlines bankrupt?

[thestalkerbunny]

Are you abble to make 1 headcanon for each menber of the felt?

:3c

Itchy- Itchy is on constant probation from the garage because of his crimes against car-manity. He has blown up, destroyed, scratched, sunk and totaled more cars than one can count on fingers. There is a reason why there is 5 locks on the door to the garage and a sign that says 'Itchy is not allowed in the garage under any circumstance' and he just stands there in front of it is saying 'THAT SIGN WONT STOP ME I CANT READ'. He can't help it he just does everything at 6x the acceptable speed. It makes him a fantastic getaway driver-but he will always end up destroying something in the process.

Doze- Doze is weirdly good at puzzles. Compared to Itchy who tries to do something at 50 miles per hour, Doze is good at analyzing things from every angle and then breaking it down to what he needs to do because he takes his time and is careful. If you ever needed a bomb defused-provided there's not a timer, Doze is the who can do it successfully. He's the dude who takes 4 days to solve the rubix cube but it's at least better than anyone else can do.

Trace-Trace's favorite hobby besides following people around to see where they've been and have that level of dirty blackmail on them and playing stickball with Fin, is blowing up cars. Any day where an order comes in for the a bomb to be planted on a car for some reason is a good day to be Trace. Fin often helps him; not that he's good in any regard at it, it's just because only the two of them combined can actually remember all the lyrics to the song 'Cars that Go Boom'

Clover-Clover is the ideal leperchaun in many regards. Mainly because he's just so GOOD at charms (thanks to his luck) his riddles are always air tight, the pranks immaculate, his jokes and japes are always funny, it makes him basically the hottest leperchaun in the felt. He also has one of the better singing voices of them all.

Fin-Between the two pool sharks, Fin has lost more teeth because he just impulsively bites everything. Like a true shark, he goes thru life biting everything he can rather than using his hands to figure out what they are. They grow back rather quickly, but at the same time, it's not uncommon for him to bite into something-or someone-and a tooth to be left behind. One could make a macabe necklace from the teeth he sheds.

Die-Die is more of a complex fellow than most of his fellow members believe, he's devoutly obedient to his 'belief system' and refuses to do anything that might break it's code of conduct. He is prone to fits of Insomnia and long periods of heavy sleeping and just in general takes very poor care of himself and and is only a proficient mobster when he really puts his mind to it. He's a very touch starved person and his erratic and eerie behaviors often push people away and he is often immediately suspicious of people who willingly want to spend time around him because he assumes it’s a joke or they want something out of him. It's a private fact that he keeps secret that he simply does not like himself that much.

Crowbar- Crowbar is a firm believer that he's under appreciated in the group and feels often left out of things because he's the 'boss'. It's like you don't conventionally invite out the guy who is constantly telling you to 'cut that shit out' for drinks because he's a stick in the mud, right? He feels like always has to be better than the rest of them; be the model example, be the immaculate leader he is expected to be and it drives him up the wall half the time because he never has a real break from it. He has the stress of those kids who you know have been tiger parented into success and the idea of anything less than perfect just screws with their head a little too much. Crowbar has eldest child syndrome despite being the 7th oldest.

Snowman-When she was first introduced to the group, she highly resented all of them because by technicality, they are 'frogs' and frogs are what got her in this exiled state in the first place. She gradually warmed up to them more when she realized none of them had ever spoken to a woman and were unquestioningly frightened of her based on that fact alone. She still doesn't understand their weird customs and reasoning behind doing things most of the time.

Stitch- He's actually ironically very good friends with Die-Die thinks that Stitch is an excellent listener and enjoys his company but in actuality, Stitch is lazily grooming Die to be the next 'tailor' for The Felt incase something happens to him that makes him unable to fufill his tailor/sawbones duties. Nobody fucking ever protects the healer and now his leg don't WORK half the time and half his face is fucked up and can't see good out of one of his eyes anymore, if Die has to become the next tailor, it's YOUR GUYSES FAULT

Sawsbuck-Actually a very good gambler??? For some reasons, he plays the game of 'ooh what card game is this fellows? I do not know it but I wish to play it' on people and it WORKS. And then everyone loses their money. You'd think Clover goes to those back room dark poker room games-no, everybody in the city is too wise to play against CLOVER, but they will play his pudgey friend who is holding the cards upside down, that guy obviously can't win a single hand by the looks of him. And then everyone but Sawsbuck goes broke.

Matchsticks-Covered in burn marks from having to time travel and even though he uses his extinguisher to put it out most of the time, sometimes you're on fire just a little too long and it just leaves a big of permant damage on the skin that doesn't heal correctly. Not too many-small patches, the fire usually eats thru his clothes first before it can get to his skin.

Eggs-Eggs is not a good liar. (I have no good strong headcanons for Eggs or Biscuits because I rarely give them heavy thought.)

Biscuits- Has cried for 15 minutes straight when Itchy told him that 'bread makes you fat'

Quarters-Quarters never smiles for anything, he has an eternal poker face and Itchy's running theory is that he broke the muscles in his face years ago and now he's stuck with this neutral gargoyle scowl all the time. Which is no true; he smiles and actually laughs, it's only because the one person he actually finds funny and worth laughing at is Clover and his little antics. They're not in Fin and Trace level inseperable but are decent runner ups.

Cans-Kronk. He's Kronk. It's all coming together now. Would you like a spinich puff? (I also don't have very good headcanons for Cans. RIP.)

[zukofenty]

off the grid

➜ Summary: The one where Katara is a spoiled heiress who manages to crash land on a (cute) soldier of one of the most dangerous nations in the world. 

“Get your face out of my vagina!” Katara screams at the top of her lungs. 

“Here’s a thought, get your vagina out of my face first!”

➜ Genre: Modern!AU, humor, CEO!Katara, Soldier!Zuko, Crash Landing on You!AU 

➜ Words: 10.3k

AO3 @zutaramonth

“Get your face out of my vagina!” Katara screams at the top of her lungs.

  “Here’s a thought, get your vagina out of my face first!” Zuko yelps, words gargling. He currently was being suffocated by the crotch at his neck. After Katara’s many screams, and a swift kick to his face, they both scrambled off each other, laying on the ground for a quick moment of relief. Her body is aching after throwing herself from the tree she was stuck in. 

  After realization set in that he was a soldier who was just nearly crushed to death by a cooch, and she was a woman who somehow crossed impenetrable borders, they swiftly were both upright. Katara in a fighting stance, and Zuko’s gun automatically pointed at the girl’s face. Her eyes nervously darted around, looking for any escape route in the expanse of wilderness and trees and furry animals she sure were foaming at the mouth, looking for a bite of gorgeous heiress who smelled of Chanel No. 5. 

  “I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me!” Katara screeches, taking off as fast as her Yeezys could take her. 

  “Um, yeah I can !” He insists, shooting into her general direction. He wasn’t trying to kill her persay. Maybe maim. (It just would’ve been a lot easier if she died). 

  “Fuck!” he screams, once the girl was out of sight. 

  Last week, Katara was cyberbullying Debby Ryan from the comfort of her penthouse. One of her larger concerns of the week was debating buying the rights to all of her Disney Channel movies, just because she felt like it. Then, she could post clips of her disturbing, Radio Rebel smile every day on Instagram without copyright claims and she could blissfully ignore Debby Ryan DMing her a defamation lawsuit. 

  She had money money . Like being able to turn on the AC during the summer type of wealthy. The type of rich that could sing John Lennon’s Imagine during any crisis and say that’s enough activism for today . After all, she was an heiress of one of the richest families in the Water Tribes—a nation at the forefront of nearly every cultural conversation. In the past, every other nation out there doubted their abilities based on size alone, underestimating the tribes’ growing force. Once a nation surviving on simply hope to prosper post 100 Years War, they were now a cultural powerhouse you couldn’t ignore if you tried. From their dramas, skincare routines, and exquisite cuisine (two-headed fish soup and all), the nation was suddenly the talk of the entire world. They thrived under people’s ignorant assumptions. Blossomed despite people’s mistreatment of them in the media. Soon enough, those who questioned their authority were begging for alliances. 

  Except for the Fire Nation. A nation stuck so determinedly in the past. Notorious for their inability to move on from the world of centuries ago. The world where the Fire Nation was a dominating force. While every nation competed to innovate, the Fire Nation seemingly refused to accept reality. Their borders were violently closed off. Their trade was limited to working with the Earth Nation every once in a blue moon. Refugees who manage to escape tell stories of a cruel life seemingly stuck in the stone ages. Their leader, Azulon, threatens to bomb somewhere, something, someone every other week, and every nation’s relationship with them has remained precariously in the air since then. 

  “What the actual fuck !” She screeches. “I thought this was one of those national parks joggers find bodies in, not the fucking Fire Nation !” 

  Dead or alive, people weren’t allowed to make it out of the Fire Nation. 

  Katara was a stubborn CEO. The kind to only accept things by her way, by her standards. Coming from money didn’t mean shit when you didn’t have the raw hunger she had. She wasn’t like many of her peers. She wasn’t content with just sitting back and signing a few papers once in a while so she could make it to her SoulCycle class. But, she’d like to think that’s what made her so successful for the last decade. Katara was insistent on testing her clothing company’s new batch of athletic clothing. She scaled a mountain range in the sweat resistant hoodie. She swam in Olympic sized pools in their innovative, competition ready swimsuit and swim cap matching set. Of course, it made sense to test their new paragliding uniform. At the time. 

  “ Don’t move. This field is full of landmines,” Zuko warns, putting out his hand to stop the shaking girl. He sees it in her eyes, the way she’s about to run after he’s managed to catch up to her, and unknowingly blow this entire shit up. “They’re grey and round, or shaped like a box that—” 

  “Like the one you’re stepping on, right now?” Katara smirks, hands coming to her hips to taunt him.

  He freezes, hands coming out to balance himself at the edge of the stream she’s managed to leap across. 

  “Again, I am a bad bitch. These won’t kill me. You won’t kill me.” She snatches his walkie talkie from his jacket’s pocket, and thinks about just taking it and letting the guy who almost fucking shot her suffer. She decides against it (she didn’t want to get on God’s, or Rihanna’s, bad side today) and sets it down on the ground in front of him. He’s left to watch her expertly leap around a few stray explosives. 

  “If ‘bad bitch’ means missing a few limbs, sure. Go ahead ,” Zuko baits. She happily gives him the bird, before running as fast as she could in her Yeezy Boost 350s. Running even when she hears gunshots whizzing past her. Running even when she sees a sign, warning about a field of landmines. 

  She runs until her vision becomes blurry, and all she can hear are little children chanting a song about the Fire Nation’s greatness. She runs, even when her body feels like lead, and her eyes are a hair’s breadth away from shutting. 

  //

  He doesn’t know why he helps her. Why he wants her to get out of here alive. Why he scoops her up once soldiers began flooding the village she stumbled upon. They were making sure everyone was doing their part in singing the national anthem before the enforced curfew. She should’ve been shot to death by now by his men, or at least mauled by a wild lion vulture. 

  He just doesn’t understand it. Their forces were meant to kill , trained to shoot anything at the border on sight. He doesn’t understand how this five foot nothing girl had outrun men who have trained in the military for nearly their whole lives. His army was sloppy that day. Most of them were still drunk off of whatever cactus juice and homemade wine combination the ladies at the local village had offered to them. Then again, it wasn’t every day someone decided to paraglide during the biggest storm of the decade. It wasn’t every day someone managed to cross into the Fire Nation, when no one wanted to be there for decades . 

  He doesn’t understand why he pulled her close to his body at the sight of the military’s trucks, and runs them into his house at the edge of the hill. He doesn’t understand why he spent the last three hours painstakingly cooking up noodles from scratch for her. She takes a quick nap on an old sleeping mat he found while he works diligently. His stomach protests the fragrant aroma. He hasn’t eaten a homemade meal in months. 

  “People literally steal and sell my pubic hairs on eBay. The average price is one grand for a single strand. I deserve better,” Katara says. He thinks it’s completely in jest. She cackles when he glares at her. The smile she sends him tries to relay that she's grateful, but he’s hardly swayed by her charms. Instead, he’s scoffing at the efforts.

  A first for her. 

  She’s used to getting her way, as an expert at manipulation. When you’ve spent your whole life ruthlessly competing to run one of the largest corporations in the world, you couldn’t afford to be sweet or gentle or genuine. You learned to work people, bend them to your will until they snap. Then, you move on. Find someone else, do the old song and dance again. 

  Before she could even lift a chopstick, Zuko quickly grabs the bowl from her grasp, a pout forming on his lips. While he was always taught to school his features, he always knew he was no good at it. 

  “I will continue to do what I’ve been doing for the last two hours, and just ignore everything you’ve been saying,” he mutters, sipping at the broth to her dismay. The second she walked in, she called his house “a hut with a dick in it.” When he instructed her to take a shit in the outhouse, she didn't speak to him for the next hour. He thinks he saw her tear up when he mentioned there was no Internet. He swears he was ten seconds away from busting a vein. 

  “ Ugh . Room temperature water?” Zuko guffaws once her nose crinkles up in disgust.

  He blows a stray strand of his hair away from his face. “There are no ice cubes.” She hates how everything he says is so matter of fact. 

  “Get some, then.” she says, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. “I don’t drink ice cube-less water.”

  He just laughs. “Right, when we get any sort of electricity first, I’ll make it my number one priority to get a fridge that dispenses ice cubes engraved with your perfectly detailed portrait on them, too.” 

  Katara shoves at him, and he just stares at the spot on his chest she touched. “For future reference, I am vegan. Well, vegan adjacent. But still. The point is I am a delicate flower with an even more delicate diet. A delicate flower that’s used to caviar and organic shit and the rich people gluten-free bread you get from Trader Joe’s. So I’ll excuse it this time, but the next time  you make something please remember.” She follows up the command with a sweet smile, as though it made up for her demands.  

  The memory of her dodging bullets with a branch in her hair easily comes up in his mind. “Nothing about you is delicate.” Zuko barely budges when she tries reaching for the bowl again. 

  Katara gasps. “Even my bowel movements are delicate!” 

  He just snorts. 

  She’s annoying, he decides. All brattiness considered. Even with her tiny frame drowning in her dirty paragliding uniform, and a pout that has him wanting to laugh. The way she moves is dainty, with the self-assurance only those who grew up in comfort have. But, something about her eyes reveal something crueler, something so much more vicious underneath the soft exterior. 

  He was thoroughly out of options. While he has her holed up in his house until they decide an escape route, he feels his stomach churning at the thought of the Fire Nation’s regular surprise house inspections. Turning her over to the government meant a quick and easy execution for him and his men without question, and the potential to cause even more political strain with the rest of the world. Even if they do hand her to the government, there’s no telling what they would do to her. 

  He tries to blink the sleep out of his eyes, rubbing at them as thought it could end the nightmare he found himself trapped in.  

  For the last few years, Zuko’s life was a monotonous routine.  

  “Type 63 Rifle, Soviet SKS carbine,” Zuko breathes, ears perking up at the sound of the weapon. His hand comes out to halt the hordes of men. “One of us. Retreat,” he barked, arms  motioning for his battalion to return to their hidden positions among the dwindling flora and fauna. Months in his uniform without rest, months spent guarding the border to ensure no one left. 

  He doesn’t remember much about his life before this. He tries to forget, because it made him too sad. It made him want to do something reckless, to break something, to even cry , because he’s long forgotten anything but getting up, getting into uniform, getting into routine. 

  It was his duty, as the only son of the Fire Nation’s notorious military director. 

  He was trained to be a war wielding machine. To show no mercy. Men in the Fire Nation weren’t meant to be weak . They weren’t allowed to be soft. 

  His mother tried to get away from all of it. She tried as hard as she could to tell her children there was a life you could feel beat with all of your heart, as long as cruelty didn’t find it first. She knew Zuko wasn’t meant for this life. 

  Zuko knew, too. 

  He was never good at anything, never the best one growing up. While he excelled at delivering blows, or wielding his swords, he was always told his mind was a pathetic thing. Too brash, too naive. Azula was always the better one at that. At violence. She was their father’s right hand, her thoughts filled to the brim with genius strategy. Always one step ahead of everyone else, even as a toddler. 

  Zuko was content to be in the background, to be nothing more than a decoration when the family portrait needed to be taken. He wants to be selfish, to blame Azula for pressing pause on his life. The day she was assassinated was the day his dreams of forgetting the Fire Nation all but shriveled up. After all, tradition mandated the military director had a blood successor. 

  //

  “I am not going to put back on my dirty underwear after I shower! I am not a Bhad Bhabie type of bitch,” Katara indignantly spits out, crossing her arms over her chest. 

  Zuko rolls his eyes. Everything she says is confusing . 

  “Don’t act up while I’m gone,” Zuko begs. 

  “Like the City Girls?” 

  She feels her blood boil at his silence. 

  “Please tell me you’re lying. Please tell me you’ve heard of ‘Act Up.’ Please. Don’t let me down now.” 

  “I have no—” 

  “Seriously, where were you all summer? ‘Act up, you can get snatched up?’ Nothing? Nothing rings a fucking bell?” He can’t help but sweat.

  Even when he looked up whatever she says on his work computer (the only time people in the Fire Nation were allowed to use the Internet) he still can’t wrap his head around what exactly a Bhad Bhabie was.  

  “Then don’t wear underwear. I don’t know what else to tell you.” 

  She holds the landline phone close to her mouth, as if to make the message clearer. “Where will the pussy juices go then!” 

  Zuko hangs up on her, only to have her call him precisely 12 minutes later. 

  “My right nipple is chafing. What about my nipple eczema!” She protests. She feels her face shriveling up. Without her Yves Saint Laurent Firming Serum, she feels like a piece of her identity was missing. He had diligently informed her to use his sole bar of soap for all purposes before he left for work, and she nearly fainted on the spot. 

  “Tell it to go away, I guess?” Zuko suggests, trying his hardest to sound helpful. He tried leaving detailed notes on how to take a hot bath by pouring boiling water in his basin, and clipping the plastic shower curtain to the ceiling, trapping the heat in. He prays she hasn’t burned down his house, or someone hasn’t seen her through the gate.

  “I can’t!” Katara seethes. 

  Zuko rubs at his temples. “This was meant for only emergencies. Goodbye !” Zuko slams the phone, returning to his paperwork. He feels a hot blush spreading across his cheeks, and tries to bring his hand up to his face to alleviate the warm feeling.

  //

  She doesn’t know why he’s so nice to her. 

  When she’s all but threatened him and blackmailed his entire crew to keep their silence and help her escape.

  She simply laughs, the sound foreign to even her own ears. Her empty stomach painfully clenched in protest at the sudden sensation. It had to be some sort of sick joke. A sick fucking joke probably crafted up by Pakku! Or some of those man-children from the Northern Tribes who think they know a thing or two because they took a Marketing 101 crash course on Khan Academy! 

  She needed to get back for the big shareholders meeting. They were going to announce the new CEO of Moon Tech, the largest corporation in the Water Tribes. It was everything she had been working for her entire life. She couldn’t afford to miss it, lest it show any weakness whatsoever. As the most viable successor, she was sure all eyes were watching her every move. Yet, somehow, she managed to end up on the set of a period piece gone wrong. A miserable, yet probably Academy Award winning, period piece that smelled like moose knuckle pussy pickle. 

  She looked to the closed door, the flimsy thing separating the minute living room from his even smaller bedroom. She felt guilty for misjudging him upon their first meeting. 

  She thinks she feels more guilty for breaking his favorite vase. 

  “C’mon! That was my favorite ficus,” he grumbles, rubbing the spot on his head she broke the vase on. He avoids her gaze because she’s clad in one of his old dress shirts and nothing else, the thing coming to fall at her knees. If he blushes any harder, he thinks she might notice. Her hair is wrapped up in a messy updo and her face is scrubbed clean. The faintest tint of pink dusts across her cheeks. 

  “Sorry,” she whispers, hand coming to rub at the spot. She was nervous hearing someone wiggle the doorknob when he hadn’t come back well into the night. Why he had three locks on his door and used exactly none of them, she wasn’t quite sure. She thought she was being helpful by locking his doors. Until it was becoming apparent he didn’t care enough to carry his keys with him, and had an additional unlocked back door he was just attacked at. 

  He swats her away swiftly, body mechanically programmed to attack for coming so close to him. He’s body slammed bigger men for breathing through their mouths. But something stops him abruptly, and he stills when she comes closer, roughly grabbing at his head between her two hands, and bringing it to her eye level. “A slight bump will form, but it’ll go away faster if you soak some rice and press here,” she precisely finds the swelling area. He winces when he feels the pressure. 

  Her eyes are impossibly wide while she watches him, and he can’t help but shrink at her careful stare. This was the quietest she’s been since she crash landed. He feels unsettled. “I—I got you some stuff.” He places the bag gently in front of her, a now familiar flush coming to pepper his cheeks. “I’m going to go to bed now,” he lies, retreating to his room while still rubbing at his head.

  “Thanks,” her voice is barely a whisper, and stops him in his tracks. He turns to her, and her smile is so genuine. Her eyes are swelling with joy and it makes his heart ache. It seemed easier to talk to her that night than in the day. There wasn’t an impossible front to break open to see how she was feeling, the moonlight peeking through the cracks in the wall seemed to make her eyes wider, smile brighter even. Her guard is down and it makes emotions easier to decipher. 

  She thinks she can’t feel her face when she opens the bag. “I’m such a bitch,” she babbles to herself as she opens the boxes of shampoo, conditioner, and even signature Water Tribe moisturizers. Everything she complained about he managed to remember to a T. He even got her some traditional Fire Nation women’s outfits, even when she was only staying for the next couple of days. The tears pricking at her eyes feel foreign. She could afford private jets to fly to Beverly Hills and start a fist fight with Kim Kardashian just because she hit Kourtney in season 18. A couple dollars worth of smuggled products shouldn’t make her a weepy mess.  Somehow though, she feels herself unable to dim the smile plastered across her face. 

  Zuko wants to jump for joy. Though, he resists the urge when getting up too fast makes his head bump feel like it has a second heartbeat. He spent the better part of his evening at the open air marketplace a few blocks from the village. It was worth enduring the questioning glances from the shop vendors. Even when he felt like crawling in a hole and dying as he hastily gestured he wanted to purchase women’s underwear, it was all worth it when he’s lulled to sleep to the sound of Katara’s giggles. 

  //

  “I think he just smiled.” Mako whisper-screams. Nearly all the jaws in the mess hall drop open. 

  “You’re lying ,” a voice squeaks out. The dozens of heads seem to collectively turn towards their captain. Their stomachs churned at seeing living proof of the small smirk on his face. He’s distracted. Staring off into the distance, he’s just picking at the meager helpings of his lunch on his plate. 

  For all intents and purposes, Zuko was boring . He was a stick in the mud, the kind of guy you saw laugh once or twice a year for obligatory purposes, just to make sure everyone knew he wasn’t a robot assigned by the government to spy on soldiers. 

  He was a captain who delivered orders, and nothing more. A strict, by the book kind of guy. The team knew little to nothing about him. They weren’t even sure he used the bathroom like a normal human being (half of them were betting money on the robot theory). They just weren’t close like that. They weren’t the type of team to be able to joke around with their captain, share their stories, bleed their heart out on the military field. They knew the scar on his face meant he had pissed off some higher ranking officials who still possessed the power to firebend, a sacred art limited to the few. It meant there was more to the story than just a bumbling captain of a lower ranked crew. The most they got out of him was once in a while he would startle a young kid, who was just trying to get his mandated service over with. He’d clap them on the shoulder and would murmur a low “Good job.” (His definition of keeping up team morale). 

  He was efficient at his job, and good at keeping his men safe, rarely raising his voice to anyone except maybe himself. More than what they could say for other captains. He was hard on his men, but harder on himself. It was rare to see him doing anything but stress . 

  Smiling ? Simply out of the question. 

  He couldn’t help it! It was an automatic reaction to the morning he had. 

  “Thank you, for everything,” Katara says quietly, placing the tray of food on his night stand. She knew he had to get to the military base in the wee hours of the morning, and also knew she wasn’t going to wake up in time without her vibrating mattress alarm clock. So she pulls an all nighter, and tries to figure out how to use the tools and contraptions at her disposal. She didn’t mean to startle him, she swears. She has to stifle a laugh when he wakes up with a start. Eyes slowly peeling open, the eye crust obstructing his view. His hair is facing every which way. He looks younger, somehow. The messy hair, the wrinkled shirt, and drool he makes a quick job of wiping away. 

  “What’s this?” He peers up at her curiously, placing the tray in his lap. 

  “My labor of love.” She insists, sitting even closer to him on his bed. She thinks she likes it when he squirms under her gaze. For all the military get up with metallic shoulders, and the endless medals pinned to his uniforms, he was just a boy under it all. “I know, I haven’t been the most...easy guest to have.” She ignores his snort. “After all of this over, after the Fire Nation opens up its borders again, I promise you. I will pay you ten times what this hut with a dick is worth. Because…” she breathes in, looking unsure of herself. “I’ll never forget your kindness.” 

  “T—Thank you,” he stutters. He thinks they’re empty promises, but doesn’t try to question them too hard. It shouldn’t be possible for his heart to pulse as fast as it does, but it seems to be mesmerized by how much wider her smile was able to get. The noodles are misshapen, probably because of her inexperience with the old-fashioned machine. The broth is salty and makes Zuko’s throat beg for a glass of water. And yet, he slurps up the entire dish without complaint. 

  Anything to see her eyes light up. 

  //

  “The first boob I ever saw was in Titanic . Haven’t seen one since. Waiting for Titanic 2 to come out.” Mako says proudly, puffing out his chest. He hoped his extensive knowledge of non-Fire Nation films would entertain Katara. Zuko’s few trusted men (mainly the ones who were responsible for letting her escape in the first place) were instructed to keep her safe while he sorted out the plans for her escape. Iroh was able to set up a clandestine arrangement with a ship leaving the Fire Nation docks for their semi annual pickup of Earth Nation goods. They were hoping she could sneak through to the Earth Nation, and explain her situation with customs there. 

  “Buddy, I got some news for you.” Katara smirks, and the boys grow nervous. She was pretty. The type of pretty that made people stare, wondering if it was possible for someone’s eyes to twinkle in the sunlight. She looked like one of those celebrities in the movies he loved. Talked like one, too. In the Fire Nation, she was the type of pretty where guys would be bartering an entire village just to get a chance to look at her. Though, just from talking with her, she seemed like the type of girl who would hide in her house after gaining said village, just to spite them. 

  Mako was curious about the Water Nation. Their schools taught them that Azulon was an elite magical creature that somehow never needed to take a shit, and people in the other nations defecated three times the amount of Fire Nation folk. He always knew something was up. Everyone was constantly smuggling goods from all the other nations, especially from the Water Nation. There were automatic rice cookers that played a song when it finished making perfect rice, and little boxes that could play music when you press it. Mako always knew there was so much more out there than people in the Fire Nation could ever know.  

  She tells them stories of her life in the Water Tribes as they wait for Zuko, and she pointedly ignores the scoffs and disbelief. “There are toilets that shoot out water into your ass crack to clean it?” 

  “You can adjust the settings and everything!” She proclaims, pride filling every one of her words. “Warm, cool, even inconsistent spurts if you’re into that shit.” 

  They all make a noise of amazement. “That’s incredible .” She talks about sky rises, and business meetings with rich people, and showers that turn on with a drop of a hat. 

  “What’s a Rihanna again? Is that your God?” 

  “Yes.” Katara answers, with no hesitation. “See, she is the baddest in the land—” 

  “Wait!” Bolin abruptly stops her. “I thought that was your God...Megan Thee Stallion?” 

  “She’s the thiccest of them all.” Katara punctuated with a click of her tongue. “I thought we went over this!” 

  “Sorry,” they grunt, looking especially sheepish. 

  “What does she preach?” Kai inquires, eyes growing wide with delight. 

  Katara taps her lip, eyes coming up to the ceiling trying to concentrate. “She’s a goddess who empowers women! She tries to get everyone to build their knee strength. I think one of her sayings is ‘I need a Mr. Clean, make that pussy beam,’” Katara . 

  Zuko watches on, leaning on the door frame. He wants to hate the fact that he’ll miss her. 

  //

 Everything was supposed to be easy at this point. 

  “Don’t forget about me.” She holds onto his arm as they sit against the edge of the fishing vessel, the waves impatiently slapping against them. He was supposed to bid her farewell at the dock, but something in him wanted to guarantee she was able to get on the second boat to the Earth Nation. 

  He’s still clad in one of his more formal uniforms. He still feels the chill of the night scraping through the fabric of his double breasted blazer. 

  Katara openly welcomes the cold, after nearly sweltering to death every second she’s been in the Fire Nation. 

  He lets his smile reach his eyes. “How could I forget a girl who nearly crushed me to death with her crotch.” 

  Her guffaw has the captain, Jeong Jeong, even startled. “Right.” She looks off into the distance, and can’t remember a time when she’s ever been surrounded by this much water. “My name’s Katara, by the way.” 

  Zuko feels a pang in his chest. “Zuko.” 

  “Nice to meet you, Zuko,” she whispers, holding her hand out to shake his. It feels warm when he grabs at the dainty thing. 

  “I hope we meet again. Maybe, in another life, Katara.” 

  “Really?” For a moment, he hears a twinge of sadness in her voice. It could be his mind or his heart making it up, but he swears he hears it.

  “Really.” 

  Everything was going according to plan. Everything was supposed to go smoothly. 

  Until they’re both panic-sweating underneath the ship in its cargo hold, trying to come up with a plan to fend off the Coast Guard officers stopping all ships sailing past curfew. 

  “Do something! Doesn’t the military tell you to do something in this case? Or are you guys just trained in the art of being ugly and having anger issues?” 

  Zuko wracks his brain. “Why don’t you help me?” 

  “What happens if I don’t?” Katara angrily mutters. 

  “You’ll deal with the consequences,” Zuko shrugs, too entirely calm. He was a natural in intense situations, but even he could feel his hands shaking. 

  “That’s just diet ‘ I hope this bitch dies !’”

  “Oops,” Zuko sneers. 

  Katara huffs. “The fact that men can breathe just doesn’t sit right with my soul.” Katara wants to strangle him. 

  A lightbulb seemingly goes off in his head. Something Mako said about the non-Fire Nation  films and stories was always a fool proof “Get out of jail” card. 

  “Kiss me,” he says without any uncertainty. 

  “Are you huffing cactus juice, bitch?” 

  “Just do it!” Zuko practically screams when he hears the door opening. She presses her lips to his chapped ones, and his hands naturally come to her waist. He’s lost in the feeling of her plush lips, how incredibly soft her body was that he ignores the screams of Coast Guard officers. 

  “What the fuck was that!” They question Jeong Jeong, who simply shrugs. The officers promptly drop the cargo door in shock. 

  She slaps his face, his cheek already reddening in mere moments. 

  “What was that for?” Zuko grumbles, stroking his face. 

  “You’re a freak!” 

  He narrows his eyes. “I prefer a ‘you’re welcome,’ but that doesn’t seem to be in your vocabulary.” He felt like his entire body was tingling, but Katara could only focus on the fact he was swiping at his lips with the back of his hand. 

  “Hey! You should be thanking Rihanna you got a chance to kiss me! If you weren’t so colonized you would realize I am one of the most beautiful women in the world!” Katara petulantly reminds.

  “I think it’s because you got diarrhea all over my one of my favorite t-shirts that I am doubting that claim.” 

  Katara sulks, confident form shrinking. “I forgot to boil the water one time, sue me.” 

  He can’t stop his laugh from taking over his whole body. He’s about to help her up when he hears, “Open it up again!” 

  This time, Katara fully pushes him down among the boxes of cargo, straddling his lap, and violently mashes her lips to his. 

  “Get the fuck up here!” Someone screams. Katara lets up on the kiss so Zuko could peer up at the officers. He feels his ears overheating.

  “She’s my fiancé.” He hastily explains, once they were on deck. In between their masks, they stare down at Katara, who bites on her tongue, and puts up an act of a bashful bride-to-be. She holds onto his arm with a vice grip, ducking her head behind his broad shoulders. 

  “They were going on a romantic sight seeing trip,” Jeong Jeong provides, sweat beating down his back. 

  Katara nods enthusiastically. “We just couldn’t wait for the wedding to have a little fun .” She grins intenerally at their coughs of discomfort and Zuko’s bewildered gaze. 

  They check Zuko’s identification card, before nodding in understanding. 

  “Fine,” one officer bites out. He stares at Katara for a beat too long as though he’s reading her thoughts. It makes her uneasy. “Turn it back, and don’t come out past curfew anymore. They’ve implemented new standards for ships.” Jeong Jeong nods in understanding, and jumps to the helm in no time. But, Zuko could sense the panic vibrating off of Katara. 

  She turns to see the second ship waiting in the distance, her ticket to freedom a few feet away. 

  “We’re not done with date night!” She insists, coming out to try to stop the officer. Zuko holds her back, eyes pleading with her. “But—I—there has to be some other way.” She’s shaking like a leaf, even when Zuko throws his blazer over her bare shoulders. 

  //

  “I can’t believe I’m going to be stuck feeding him heartburn medication like they are tic tacs,” Katara says to no one. She’s pacing nervously around the living room, and Zuko’s trying his best to come up with something to comfort her. His head is in his hands, and he’s since loosened his top knot to let his hair fall. 

  “Katara, I am only two years older than you,” he gently reminds. 

  “...And then I heard dentures always smell no matter how hard you clean them.” 

  “Katara I swear—,” 

  She gasps. “Oh my god, we have to start thinking of retirement homes.”  

  Things were supposed to be easy. 

  A spontaneous house check was something the village’s residents were accustomed to. They gathered outside their homes as soldiers began rifling through their things. Parents simply stood about, discussing the new books they had to buy for their kids for the upcoming semester. 

  Nothing was entirely out of the blue. Yet, the elusive military captain just had to show up to the front of his house, hand in hand with a blue-eyed girl. 

  A gun was promptly pointed in her face. “Oh shit. Bitch, not this again.” 

  “This house was registered for one resident.” General Zhao’s lip curls. “State your name and occupation.” 

  General Zhao had overheard a certain military director’s son was busted trying to get some punani on the seven seas. 

  It’s not that he hated Zuko, per say. Their relationship was more of a “ regularly abusing Zuko’s privacy to fulfill a personal agenda because of the bloodthirsty desire for power ” type of thing. Normal things. Maybe , it was influenced by the fact he got wind of Zuko pressuring his higher ups to further investigate his sister’s assasination. He wasn’t entirely sure. 

  “Look here, I have information that could lead to the arrest of Nicki Minaj. So why don’t you, I don’t know. Let me go ! I promise I’ll tell you everything I know about Ms. Nincki,” she lowly breathes, a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows only making the soldiers around her even more heated. 

  “Shut the fuck up!” A soldier screams behind her, poking her head with the gun. Katara couldn’t help the whimper that passed her lips. For the first time in her life, she thinks she feels genuine fear. 

  Zuko pushes past the guards holding him back, throwing them to the ground. Without missing a beat, he takes her hand in his. “Get your fucking gun out of my fiancé’s face!” He roars. Gasps reverberate around the villagers. This was the loudest and longest they’ve ever heard Zuko speak. “She works for the government as part of Division 11,” he explains, letting his voice settle into its usual rasp. Everybody visibly recoils. 

  A highly secretive sector of the government virtually no one , not even General Zhao had access to. They were agents deployed in different nations, with the goal of collecting information about the culture. It would’ve explained Katara’s Water Tribe accent, and the lack of her identification papers. 

  General Zhao pushes past Zuko, staring him down and grumbling with his men following behind. 

  The women of the village instantly make way to collect around Katara. Noses turned up at her like she was shit on a brick. No, they couldn’t give a shit about her. They had rushed into their houses after the announcement, and came back to ply Zuko with trays of food. 

  “For our handsome Zuko finally getting hitched!” The fake smiles make Katara want to stab herself. She swiftly reaches for Zuko’s hand, much to his confusion, and lays her head on his shoulder. 

  “Baby, let’s go inside. I’m cold,” she feigns through her teeth. Her puppy dog eyes make him feel like he’s in high school. He numbly nods. 

  She thinks she hears someone’s grandma calling her a slut. 

  //

  “Pick your head up king, your hairline is receding,” Katara worries her lip at seeing his current state. She doesn’t think he’s slept all night, and he has papers and maps with highlighter marks and red circles all around him on his bed. 

  It’s been a few days since his big announcement to the village, and it feels better to be able to get outside. Breathe from the confines from Zuko’s dingy house. Even among the whispers and stares from people, the villagers weren’t all bad. The women sometimes drop by to invite her over to cook with them, and the kids bring her only the nicer rocks they’ve managed to dig through the dirt for. 

  “I just want to get you home.” He practically grunts. She’s holding a cup of tea for him, and he gulps it down as if it was Rihanna’s boob sweat. “I don’t want you to stay here for even a second longer.” 

  “Thanks!” Katara sends him a sardonic smile. 

  Fuck . He always knew how to put his foot in his mouth when he’s around her. “No, uh. Not like that. This place is a hell hole, and I just want you to get back. It’s not safe for you, for anyone here.” She pats his back gently when he starts choking on the tea, trying to get all his words out. He’s so sweet, the way he just quietly tries to draft out a plan while he thinks she’s asleep. She hears him curse whenever a pen snaps with the pressure he applies. With how many times he sighs through the night, she feels guilty. 

  She’s entirely too comfortable around Zuko, he decides. She lays in bed next to him and he hopes she doesn't notice the way he’s grown warm with her presence. He craves it too much these days. “You know what, the one thing I’ve learned through all of this is that the first thing I’m going to do when I come back is shutting down Chrissy Teigen’s Twitter.” 

  “Not visit your friends and family?” Zuko asks, amusement dancing across his features. 

  “That can come second,” Katara asserts. 

  Life wasn’t completely terrible. Sure, she cries the moment Zuko leaves the house because she’s sure she’s going to die in this shit fuck of place and never get to her money’s worth of her one year HelloFresh subscription. But she has complete faith in Zuko’s abilities. 

  “It’s like during The Amazing Race Season 17 when those two vegetarian doctors ate a goat’s head to win. I think their names were Kat and Nat.” 

  “The point?” Zuko tries his best to sound exasperated. 

  “The point is, I’ll learn how to adapt for the next week or so. I promise, it’s not all that terrible!” Zuko doesn’t trust her uneasy, twitching eyes, but nods all the same. 

  “Hold my hand, motherfucker!” She beams under the attention of the villagers, most of them scoffing when she does her daily send off routine. When Zuko leaves for work, she is insistent on performing their cute couple duties to piss off old people (her other favorite pastime). “Did you remember to bring your water bottle today, stupid bitch?” 

  “I think I’d like this more if you asked nicely,” he groused. He likes how small her hand fits in his, but he thinks he’ll boil shoelaces and eat them before he would admit it. 

  She’s made one friend, at least. Ty Lee, a girl whose parents are trying to marry her off by the next summer. The older women side eyed her just the same, thinking her big ole titties were too big of a distraction among the eligible men in the village. 

  “It came as a shock to us, we still think Zuko is a robot,” Ty Lee admits over a bowl of beef stew. Katara nearly chokes at the spice level. “It’s too bad you’re marrying a lower ranked officer. I know this guy who’s way up there! You could do so much better . I think his name’s Chan!” 

  “So, Zuko’s basically a nobody here?” 

  “Pretty much,” the girl states it like it’s a known fact. “He doesn’t do much, to be honest. But he’s all the old ladies’ favorites because he’s cute and moody . Fuck that, give me communication , you know what I mean?”

  Katara could already feel the cogs whirring to life in her brain. “Thanks for letting me know, Ty Lee!” Her chirpy tone has the girl smiling as well. Good, her acting skills haven’t gone rusty. “How come when Zuko makes beef stew, it’s never spicy?” She wipes her nose with a napkin Ty Lee had given her after noticing the impending waterfall of snot. 

  Ty Lee ponders it for a second. “Sorry, babe. This is the most mild recipe you can make in the Fire Nation. I didn’t realize you couldn't handle it. Maybe he’s just remixing a classic?” 

  Katara tries to hold back her smile. “Yeah, maybe.” 

  //

  “Babies are broke,” Katara glares at the child in her lap, who only curls in closer to her.  

  “Oh my god.” Zuko lets the little boy play with his hair when he wasn’t suffocating Katara’s neck with his other arm. 

  “They live in your head and your house rent free. And then they have the audacity to stare at you in their weak ass outfits,” she points out. They’re both squeezed together on a sofa barely holding itself together, and forced to watch over the birthday boy. 

  “Don’t be mad. It’s entirely your fault Chungha’s kid laughed so hard it barfed on you.” 

  Katara’s exhausted laugh makes Zuko forget his tiredness all the same. “Don’t call the baby an ‘it!’”

  Zuko lets the kid bite on his finger, and grabs him from Katara’s hands when he begins tugging on her dress straps. “I still can’t believe you taught Chungha’s daughter to ‘not be the bigger person, and punch a bitch!’ And Chungha still invited you to her son’s party.”

  “Talk shit, get hit. Basic stuff.”

  He had to admit, coming home and immediately being dragged to a baby’s birthday celebration was not how he saw his night going. Especially after hours of grueling paperwork. 

  “He’s two ,” Zuko lets out an annoyed huff.  

  “And what about it, bitch?” Katara growls. She has her hair in a complicated updo, complete with the Fire Nation hair ties he recently picked up for her. 

  He tries to hide the fact he enjoys this far too much. Domestic things. Things like coming home from work to banter with her. Cooking for Katara while she’s busy socializing with the older wives. He heard from Mako that Katara spends most of her day with the married women. Her plan was to try to move him up the ranks of the military ladder by getting to the lieutenant’s wives first. 

  When she’s home and finished washing up, she takes his dress shirts as though they were her’s and wears them to bed. After she’s passed out on the sleeping mat in the living room, he makes it a habit to carry her to the mattress in his room. 

  “My bad back likes the hard floor,” he would insist when she would protest. 

  He thinks he’s a goner when she even starts trying to make Fire Nation snacks for his lunches. He packs them himself, but somehow misses the minute containers that make their way into his pail. Even if the container somehow always breaks because she forgets to close it properly and he ends the day smelling like fish sauce, he likes it. 

  He knows he must be fucking crazy, pretending this was all real. Maybe he was delusional and reading too much into her actions. Maybe he was a fucking idiot. But for a moment, it was easy to pretend he’s a few months away from marrying a pretty girl. A pretty girl busy spending the night playing around with babies they could one day have together. 

  He shakes the thought from his head, physically moving his head to make it permeate even deeper. She was going to be back home, safe and sound soon. It was better not to get attached. 

  She makes it so fucking hard, though. Especially when she’s wiping away at the creases in his brow before bed. Or asking him through the closed bedroom door to tell her it’s going to be ok, to talk to her until she falls asleep because she likes the sound of his voice.

  //

  She’s a stone cold bitch. A bitch that could fight with her Swarovski crystal acrylics, and come out virtually unscathed. Someone needs to explain to her exactly why she was crying like a James Charles fake apology video for being a racist at the sight of Chungha’s kid bouncing about, flinging his boogers in her face.

  “Maybe if I pray to Azulon hard enough, you guys could have your own little bundle of joy soon!” Chungha exclaims, holding the baby as tight as she could.

  After all, when you almost lose a kid, every moment you’re blessed with their breath never feels like enough. You never want to spend another moment away from them. It’s a miracle his fever broke in time for his birthday. Their family couldn’t afford to go to the doctor, with hospitals being a four hour bike ride away. 

  “Yeah, sure.” Katara barely could hear her over Yoonjn’s gleeful squeals. 

  “I’ll tell Bomi to pray for you guys, too. After what Azulon did for her little Sana, you’ll be pregnant in no time!” 

  Katara just squeezes at the baby’s chubby cheek. 

  //

  “You’re going to kill yourself.” Katara flinches at Zuko’s voice piercing through the quiet night. He’s leaning up against the wall, and emerges from the shadows because he’s dramatic and needed the added effect. She doesn’t miss the way he limps while clutching his side. 

  “Shut up .” She throws her straw hat at the ground, and flings herself across the sleeping mat, face down. “I’ve had a long night.” 

  He wants to be angry with her. He wants to scream at her. He was livid . 

  “What if you got caught, huh? You could’ve been executed .” Zuko knew it wasn’t a coincidence. That the rumors of a spirit going around healing people in the village coincided with someone’s sudden appearance. He thinks the sight of Katara effortlessly waterbending is permanently etched into his memory. The way her face was blissed out, the element easily submitting to her every will. 

  Katara knows he’s just worried for her. She knows the occasional rustle of the branches was more than a breeze. But, all she sees is red. “Sounds rich, coming from you ! What’s your name again? Sorry, my bad. I didn’t know ‘The Blue Spirit’ was a silent vowel in the name ‘Zuko!’”

  He waits a beat, before turning to face her. She has his mask in hand, an angry glare screwing her features. 

  “How did you—who did—?” His brain was apparently as smooth as Howie Mandel’s head when he needed its help the most. At least he knows where his mask went. 

  “My mind is as strong as the Twitter men trying to get Doja Cat to show us her titties.” She rolls her eyes when she sees Zuko pondering. “You leave your Dao swords on display in the living room, and the mask is underneath your bed. I don’t know, let me ask the audience.” 

  “Oh.” 

  Katara flicks his forehead.

  “At least I’m not walking around with some face paint thinking I’m helping these people!” 

  She scoffs. “But I am! They’re too sick to afford medication. To even go to the hospital. If they make it, no one wants to help them! You’re telling me I have to just watch them die!” 

  Zuko sighs. “You’re giving them hope !” 

  “In this dumpster fire of a place, yeah! I fucking am! What’s wrong with that? Tell me!” She challenges. She comes up nose to nose with Zuko, eyes darting and impatiently waiting for an answer. 

  “What are these people going to do when you’re gone?” What am I going to do when you’re gone? “They think the Painted Lady is real !” 

  “Let them!” She huffs. “What about you, huh? Going around stealing from the rich to bring back to the villagers? You think you’re any better? You’re going to get killed!” 

  Zuko scoffs. “You’re missing the point. The difference between you and me? I’m perfectly fine with dying.” 

  Katara grabs his face in between her hands, anger vanishing. “Zuko, don’t say that.” 

  “Why the fuck not? Maybe I want to fucking die!” He shouts, ripping his head out of her grasp. “Maybe I’m hoping to get caught!”

  “...Why?” Katara croaks.  

  “ You don’t get it !” He screams. Time seemed to stop when tears fell from Zuko’s eyes. Even when he’s angry, he’s never been this loud with Katara before. He wants to take it all back, stop himself.

  She’s at a loss for words. “Zuko, I—”

  “This place is a fucking dead end.  No one’s going to save us. The Fire Nation doesn’t care about us. The Fire Nation could give less of a fuck. You can’t let people think there’s hope when it’s all a fucking lie !” He laughs, the bitter sound foreign to her. “You know, it’s normal to pray for an early death here. You pray that it’s painless. It’s easier to die than live every day trapped in this reality.” 

  He loses his grip on the countertop he was leaning on for support. Katara moves to catch him before he falls, and lays him as gently as possible on top of the mat. She makes quick work to heal the gash at his side. A result of following her during her rounds, and fighting off any robbers trying their luck in the night. 

  “I thought you were the Kris Jenner of the Southern Water Tribe?” He squeezes out, trying to get her to laugh. She’s touched he remembered her Kardashian-Jenner clan rants. (He’s been Team Stormi since day one.) Then again, he seems to remember every little detail about her. “A businesswoman, right? Didn’t know you were a master waterbender on top of all of that.” 

  She snorts, and wipes away her own tears before he could open his eyes again. “I was a paramedic. I wanted to run a clinic at one point.” Zuko winces at the intensity of the water cooling his wound. “Growing up, I hated the business world. It was all backstabbing and boring bitches. But sometimes, it’s easier.” She’s silent for a while, focused only on the healing process. 

  “I—I couldn’t save a lot of people,” her voice drops down to a barely audible whisper, and her brows furrow. 

  They’re shoulder to shoulder on the mat after she wraps up his cut. They’re staring up at the cracks of his ceiling. 

  “Do you ever miss it?” Zuko rasps. 

  “Bending?” 

  “Yeah.” 

  “Sometimes.” She lets silence fill the air for a moment. “ It’s second nature to me. Fuck, I was bending before I could even talk. Is it bad that I gave up on it? Is it bad it makes me sick to my stomach?” 

  Something she loved, she couldn’t stand to do again. 

  She couldn’t save her mom. She couldn’t save her niece. What was the point anymore? 

  He wraps his hand around hers. 

  //

  “What do you think we would have been like, in another life?” Zuko groans, laying down beside Katara. She’s sprawled out, still taking in heavy breaths after breaking into an intense run. His side still aches. He thinks his arm is broken from fighting off the soldiers while carrying the dozens of survivors. 

  The captain in a nearby village was sentenced to a public execution later in the week. He wanted to go out on his own terms and take his village with him, too. Trying to sacrifice people to the Gods above for forgiveness, he set the place ablaze. 

  It’s too bad The Painted Lady got wind of it first. 

  “Hm?” Katara hums, healing a cut on her face. “I’d like to think Katara in another life got to be normal. Like just owning a Chevy and living life without ever having to acknowledge Timothee Chalamat’s existence type of normal. She’s happy. She doesn’t develop an addiction to Prozac. She probably has a small white dog named Mochi that can fit into a knock-off Fendi purse.” 

  “Really? No butt-warming toilets in her life?” 

  “Nah. She could be the Mayor of Boo Boo the Foolville without any consequences.” She can’t recall a time when she’s felt so free. When her words flow out without carefully being measured. The stars feel like daylight. The expanses of the village’s nearby river tugging at her heart strings. “She could bend without constantly thinking of what could’ve been.” 

  “Zuko in another life would’ve been a piano player.” It still stings. Thinking about the future that could’ve been. 

  “Not a full time Blue Spirit?” She teases. 

  “Full time Blue Spirit doesn’t pay the bills, surprisingly.” 

  He turns his head and sees her nose crinkle. He’s sure it should be illegal for someone to be this beautiful. 

  “This kid I healed, he made his own Blue Spirit costume. He’s been wearing it every day, and treated it like it’s this season’s Versace,” Katara murmurs. He laughs, loud and unbridled. 

  “Yeah? I saw a bunch of little girls with their Painted Lady dolls.” They were holding onto them until their knuckles turned white, even with Zuko dangling them from his shoulders.

   Katara’s heart swells. “I think I’m going to cry.”

   Zuko nudges her shoulder with his when he hears her mock-sniffles. 

  “Did you know I told this guy ‘it’s time to evacuate!’ while he was mid-masturbation.” 

  Katara’s stomach is starting to hurt with how hard she’s squealing. “You’re lying ! Please, say sike!”

  Zuko throws his hands up. “I couldn’t make this up even if I tried. He was all like, ‘You mean time to ejaculate!’” Zuko finishes the story in a dude-bro voice. 

  At this point, Katara was shaking uncontrollably, and it’s infectious. He can’t help laughing, too. 

  A beat of silence passes between the duo, too distracted by the night sky. 

  Zuko rubs a hand over his face, determined to stay awake to see her fall asleep. 

  “What would Zuko and Katara have been in another life?” Katara whispers wistfully. 

  He glances over to her, eyes heavy. “I think being us would have been easier, in another life.” Her light snores fill the air. “At least then, I could be by your side.” 

  He nudges her head until it fits securely in the crook of his shoulder. 

  //

  “Sit there and look pretty!” 

  “No!” 

  “All I’m asking you to do is sit and blink!” Katara had run into a kid with a smuggled polaroid camera trying to snap photos of her. In return for not slicing open his urethra with a dull butter knife, she was trying to force him to take photos of Zuko. After all, she wanted a memento of her time with him. 

  The teen was nervously glanced between the two, the camera shaking in his grasp. 

  “I think I’m going to go find my mom…” 

  “Pussy bitch!” Katara screams at the running boy. 

  “Old ass hoe!” He yelps back. 

  Zuko knew it was a mistake taking Katara to the night market. As a celebration of the Mid-Autumn Festival, curfews were relaxed. The marketplace opened up to sell street food into the night. There’s singing, dancing, laughing, drinking. A night to forget, a night meant for happiness. 

  He thinks it’s ridiculous. The way she doesn’t notice the way guys look at her. He’s spent the better part of the night standing in front of her if any man was brave enough to glance in her general direction. At night, she was in her element, her smile was a blinding thing that made his heart race. She doesn’t pay any mind to anyone staring, to anyone trying to get her attention. She’s just taking in the little moments around her, eyes so bright and stares so wide. Like she’s afraid to miss a single detail with just a blink. 

  “Your breath smells like stupid bitch,” Katara points out after what had to be his 20th grunt of the night. She’s sure he���s holding her close to make sure they still played a newly engaged couple. She relishes in the attention all the same.  

  “Sorry.” He sulks like a child, and it makes Katara want to hug him. 

  She pecks his cheek and he freezes. “Look! He bought his girlfriend that potato on a stick thing!” 

  Zuko rushes off without any hesitation. 

  He picks the fire flakes off the potato slices before handing it to her. She practically inhales the snack, and he frets. He thinks she’s about to stab herself with the skewer. “Oh look!” She points to another couple, while pouting. “He won her a stuffed dragon.” 

  Zuko couldn’t stand to see her upset, even for a second. 

  When she’s hugging the plushie close to her, Zuko throws his arm around her. She stops in her tracks. “Oh my god! Is that ice cream—” He runs to find the vendor without even thinking. 

  “Number 43!” The vendor yelps. Zuko instantly recognizes the greasy teenager picking up the order in front of him.

  “Give me the photos you took of my fiancé,” he says, panting. He practically ran at lightning speed to catch up to the kid, who intentionally rushed off after feeling Zuko glaring him down from a distance. The boy feels his bladder shaking.

  “But—but you didn’t want a photo! You—” Zuko’s best menacing scowl had the kid scrambling through his pockets. “She could do better, you know!” He petulantly points out, before throwing the photo in the air and taking off. 

  Zuko lets himself smile after tucking Katara’s picture safely into his wallet. He knew he told himself he wouldn’t get attached. Not his fault she’s cast him under her spell. 

  //

  He’s pouting. She’s struggling not to laugh in his face. 

  “This is mine, now.” He indignantly rips the toy of her hold, squishing it to his chest instead. 

  “Why?” she questions. 

  “If you want one so bad, ask Chan to win you one.” She straight up guffaws in his face. Zuko had caught Chan hugging her out of excitement. Ty Lee finally agreed to a date with him, all thanks to Katara meddling. 

  “I can’t believe you’d cheat on me!” Zuko scowls. He’s more cute than terrifying, and Katara just rolls her eyes. “I thought I was the only one you call ‘babe!’” He tries protesting. 

  Katara snorts. “That was short for ‘beyblade.’ Let it rip, motherfucker!” 

  “Am I not a good husband-to-be? Is that what it is? Do you feel neglected, babe ?” He’s just fucking with her at this point, his childish pout threatening to bleed into a full blown laugh. He’s biking them back home, with Katara seated at the front on only a towel. She misses her Tesla. 

  “For starters, your toes look like gorilla knuckles. They look like they could wrap completely around a baseball.” 

“Hey!” 

  “Be honest. Has anyone ever sucked your toes until you creamed yourself?” Katara’s favorite pastime is making Zuko blush. 

  She turns back to him to see his reddening face. “Oh my god! Look at how cute you are! I think my stomach has the butterflies!” Zuko just grows positively crimson at her mocking tone. He’ll blame the warming weather, though. 

  “Kill them. I won’t treat you right,” Zuko murmurs. Katara just swats at his head. “Didn’t I shoot at you? Love yourself, Katara.” 

  Once they reach his house, she jumps off the bicycle, and grabs Zuko by the shoulders. “Hey.” 

  “What?” He can’t help being mesmerized by her eyes. 

  “I think I’ll miss you,” Katara breathes. 

  “You have to leave first for you to miss me.” Zuko wraps her up in a tight hug. 

  He feels selfish when he wishes moments with Katara could last a lifetime. 

[weareasong]

...

Look, I was gonna go easy on you not to hurt your feelings

But I'm only going to get this one chance (Six minutes, six minutes)

Something's wrong, I can feel it (Six minutes)

Just a feeling I've got (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on)

Like something's about to happen, but I don't know what

If that means what I think it means, we're in trouble, big trouble

And if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances

You are just what the doc ordered

I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

They said I rap like a robot, so call me rap-bot

But for me to rap like a computer must be in my genes

I got a laptop in my back pocket

My pen'll go off when I half-cock it

Got a fat knot from that rap profit

Made a livin' and a killin' off it

Ever since Bill Clinton was still in office

With Monica Lewinsky feeling on his, nutsack

I'm an MC still as honest

But as rude and as indecent as all hell

Syllables, skill-a-holic (Kill 'em all with)

This flippity dippity-hippity hip-hop

You don't really wanna get into a pissin' match

With this rappity brat, packin' a MAC in the back of the Ac'

Backpack rap crap, yap-yap, yackety-yack

And at the exact same time

I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicing that

I'll still be able to break a motha-fuckin' table

Over the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half

Only realized it was ironic

I was signed to Aftermath after the fact

How could I not blow?

All I do is drop F-bombs

Feel my wrath of attack

Rappers are having a rough time period, here's a maxi pad

It's actually disastrously bad for the wack

While I'm masterfully constructing this master piece as

Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

Now, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

Let me show you maintaining this shit ain't that hard, that hard

Everybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like I have got

Well, to be truthful the blueprint's

Simply rage and youthful exuberance

Everybody loves to root for a nuisance

Hit the Earth like an asteroid

Did nothing but shoot for the moon since (Pew)

MC's get taken to school with this music

Cause I use it as a vehicle to "bus the rhyme"

Now I lead a new school full of students

Me? I'm a product of Rakim, Lakim Shabazz, 2Pac

N.W.A, Cube, hey, Doc, Ren, Yella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim

Inspired enough to one day grow up

Blow up and be in a position

To meet Run-D.M.C

Induct them into the mothafuckin' Rock 'n

Roll Hall of Fame

Even though I'll walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames

Only Hall of Fame I'll be inducted in is the alcohol of fame

On the wall of (Shame)

You fags think it's all a game, 'til I walk a flock of flames

Off a plank and tell me what in the fuck are you thinking?

Little gay-lookin boy

So gay I can barely say it with a 'straight' face, lookin' boy

You're witnessing a mass-occur

Like you're watching a church gathering take place, looking boy

Oy vey, that boy's gay, that's all they say, looking boy

You get a thumbs up, pat on the back

And a "way to go" from your label every day, looking boy

Hey, looking boy, what you say, looking boy

I get a "hell yeah" from Dre, looking boy

I'ma work for everything I have, never ask nobody for shit

Get outta my face, looking boy

Basically, boy, you're never gonna be capable of keeping up

With the same pace, looking boy

Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God

All my people from the front to the back nod, back nod

The way I'm racing around the track, call me NASCAR, NASCAR

Dale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God

Kneel before General Zod this planet's Krypton-no Asgard, Asgard

So you be Thor and I'll be Odin, you rodent, I'm omnipotent

Let off then I'm reloading immediately with these bombs I'm toting

And I should not be woken

I'm the walking dead

But I'm just a talking head, a zombie floating

But I got your mom deep throating

I'm out my Ramen Noodle

We have nothing in common, poodle

I'm a Doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil

It's me my honesty's brutal

But it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do though

For good at least once in a while

So I wanna make sure somewhere

In this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle

Enough rhymes to

Maybe try to help get some people through tough times

But I gotta keep a few punchlines

Just in case cause even you unsigned

Rappers are hungry looking at me like it's lunchtime

I know there was a time where once I, was king of the underground

But I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grind

So I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine

Appeal with the skin color of mine

You get too big and here they come trying to censor you like that one line

I said on "I'm Back" from the Mathers LP 1

When I tried to say: "I'll take seven kids from Columbine

Put 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a nine"

See if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was but I'm

Morphin' into an immortal

Coming through the portal

You're stuck in a time warp from 2004, though

And I don't know what the fuck that you rhyme for

You're pointless as Rapunzel with fuckin' cornrows

You write normal? Fuck being normal

And I just bought a new raygun from the future

Just to come and shoot ya, like when Fabolous made Ray J mad

'Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Mayweather's pad

Singing to a man while they played piano

So Ray J went straight to the radio station

The very next day, "Hey Fab, I'ma kill you!"

Lyrics coming at you at supersonic speed (J.J. Fad)

Uh, summa-lumma, dooma-lumma, you assuming I'm a human

What I gotta do to get it through to you? I'm superhuman

Innovative and I'm made of rubber

So that anything you say is ricocheting off of me and it'll glue to you and

I'm devastating, more than ever demonstrating

How to give a mothafuckin' audience a feeling like it's levitating

Never fading, and I know the haters are forever waiting

For the day that they can say I fell off, they'll be celebrating

'Cause I know the way to get 'em motivated

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

"Oh, he's too mainstream"

Well, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it

"It's not hip-hop, it's pop"

'Cause I found a hella way to fuse it

With rock, shock rap with Doc

Throw on "Lose Yourself" and make 'em lose it

"I don't know how to make songs like that

I don't know what words to use"

Let me know when it occurs to you

While I'm ripping any one of these verses that versus you

It's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurting you

How many verses I gotta murder to

Prove that if you were half as nice

Your songs you could sacrifice virgins too?

Ugh, school flunky, pill junkie

But look at the accolades, these skills brung me

Full of myself, but still hungry

I bully myself cause I make me do what I put my mind to

When I'm a million leagues above you

Ill when I speak in tongues

But it's still tongue-in-cheek, fuck you

I'm drunk so Satan take the fucking wheel

I'm asleep in the front seat

Bumping Heavy D and the Boyz

Still "Chunky but Funky"

But in my head there's something I can feel tugging and struggling

Angels fight with devils and here's what they want from me

They're asking me to eliminate some of the women hate

But if you take into consideration the bitter hatred I have

Then you may be a little patient and more sympathetic

To the situation and understand the discrimination

But fuck it

Life's handing you lemons, make lemonade then

But if I can't batter the women

How the fuck am I supposed to bake them a cake then?

Don't mistake him for Satan

It's a fatal mistake

If you think I need to be overseas and take a vacation

To trip abroad

And make her fall on her face and don't be a retard

Be a king? Think not

Why be a king when you can be a God?

(end)

[sdfghjklh]

Lancey-Lance, THE TRUTH! (High Quality Meta)

Hello and welcome to my 100% canon and indisputable post on how Lance is a literal supernatural being. Is he a werewolf? Is he a vampire? Quite surely he is an alien? No, our Loverboy Lance is obviously Cupid. And this Cupid wants Shiro and Pidge to get together.

We are introduced to Lance at the beginning of the first episode (after the simulation scene) where he is in the process of sneaking out into town. His mission: Grab Pidge, Loosen Up, Meet Some Nice Girls. 

  At this point in the series Pidge hasn't revealed her true identity to either him or Hunk yet, so it's implied he wants Pidge to meet a girl there and have some fun. However, in the flashback Pidge has of first meeting the both of them

she clearly says "I don't have time to mess around with you guys" and blows them off. Even so, Lance tries very hard to be around her. When she sneaks out on her own Lance has the option to ditch, just leave with hunk. But instead he follows her.

And there they see a sight to behold

It's Shiro! His Hero!

Funny how we only see Lance and Pidge's heads off to the side. Anyway, stuff happens, they kidnap unconscious Shiro, but they need to get away fast! And who does Lance hand the Big Heavy Unconscious Guy to?

The smallest one, probably physically weakest one.

After all the boring "The Lion has chosen you as the new paladins to defeat this oppressive alien race that's killing other planets" thing (that's the main point of the show?? I guess???) Shiro and Pidge get to hang out and spend some Real Bonding Time with a romantic canoe ride

Along the way Pidge begins freaking out about the "destiny" thing but no worries baby boo Shiro honey's gotchu.

(Insert Rightest Thing To Possibly Say Here)

Oh yah while all this is happening Lance is shooting at some of those oppressive aliens

They got some bruises.

Jumping into the 2nd episode we see Lance's first shot he is sporting some new colors. Black and Green, an interesting combination wouldn't you say?

At the end when Hunk hugs both he and Keith, you can see him smile before going back to this questionable face. And what is he looking at?

(wipes tear from eyes/ cus dam that's beautiful) What I find interesting in the 3rd episode is when Voltron is sending off those other aliens who were prisoners, neither Shiro or Pidge are seen saying farewell. Instead it's Lance of all people?

Which leads us to...THE SUNSET SCENE!

(I feel blessed this very day) Here Shiro reveals he know's Pidge's secret identity and promises to keep it, for reasons he doesn't question! What a dude.

The 4th ep is a drama bomb, literally. Pidge gives the team a shock by announcing she's leaving. However just before she can, Lance realizes a robot lookalike of Rover has been planted in the castle as a bomb!

He jumps to protect Coran, seriously injuring himself in the process. Pidge offers her pod to help the team get a new battery for the castle so the infirmary can treat him again. Shiro stays with Lance, but gets attacked by Sendak and taken prisoner again. And it's Pidge to the rescue!

What I thought was super cool in this scene of episode 5 was when Pidge was grabbed by Sendak, Lance happened to wake up at that moment to shoot at him! Giving Shiro and Keith an opening to take him down

(Can You Feel~ The Love Tonight~)

With Lance watching over them in the background from "Mostly Dead but not Dead Dead" Pidge decides to stay with the group!

And for the most part, that's it for the first season. In the next season after everyone's back together they start repairing the ship in Episode 4. All 5 are there (why all?) and strangely LANCE is the one they let handle the very end. This....doesn't go very well.

Have no fear because Pidge is here!

What i find interesting here is when Pidge gushes about the alien tech that's at a level beyond earth lance says "it's not a sunset pidge" hmmmm where have we seen Pidge and a sunset before?

Anyway, because of Lance's try at fixing the ship they wasted time, enough time to be surrounded by a bunch of space spores! Cue Pidge's curiosity and Shiro's praising of her intelligence.

(I think Lance hit him here!)

Towards the end of this episode they get a boss fight with the Big Cube. None of their attacks work but Lance chooses to shoot a freeze ray (which backfires)

And immediately after this Pidge gets electrocuted

Shiro is the first to call out to her! He tries to go after her but the cubes won't let him. Here she has to bond with her lion again to unlock hidden powers. She can hear the sounds of the battle above and her teammate's voices. The loudest of all, Shiro. Calling for help, saying they need her.

And she's back! Saving the day!

We don't get much more until Episode 10 because of Keith's Galra arc. Here the pair are in a group with Lance (of course) who dubbs himself "an excellent shot" and it's "his thing" . You know who else was famous for being an excellent shot? CUPID!

But just as they're reeling in Pidge's wire pulls off the cover of the ship she was attached to! Sending her flying back and Shiro rushing to catch her.

(I'll Never Let Go Kat!)

Throughout this episode Lance has been trying to make this nickname he gave himself stick. The sharpshooter. Yet another odd parallel to have with Cupid. Because of this he takes a nearly impossible shot at the end of the ep to save the alien they need to help with their plan to defeat Zarkon. And he succeeds!

And because he did Shiro and Pidge get to discuss the new information Pidge has on her missing brother. Shiro assures her that "they'll find him" and gives him The Look

Which is rudely interrupted by this dude Slav. But he knows, he knows.

Sadly third season didn't have a lot of content of Shiro's relationships to anyone else with the exception of Keith due to Article 5 Section 19 of the Bromance Code of Arms, "Only one bro can care if another bro goes missing to prevent a major influx of feelings shared among all the bros". BUT I did notice this in episode 4 when they travel to an alternate universe where this code may not exist!

In this scene, everyone is surprised when suddenly two figures pop out from the vents. Lance is the first to react, shooting at them. And one of them fires back!

As he goes for Lance, Pidge takes this opportunity to shoot at his helmet, unmasking him! And who does he turn out to be?

An alternate version of Shiro.

That's all I have for screencaps! Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk! As I've said before this is 100% canon, can not be disputed, if you try you're a liar. Also I'm on the internet and the internet is always right.

[minimin1993]

B/L 11

Warning: Violence.

“Steve what are you doing?” Linda said after following Steve into the weapons room.

“Linda, don’t fucken sneak up on me.” Steve said holding his chest. 

“Language. 21st century catching up on you already.” Linda said with a smirk on her face opening the cases Steve was just standing in front of.  

“Oh shut up Linda, I am trying to find out what Fury is hiding. Stark is right, why didn’t he call us in sooner. Why now?” 

“Steve… I think you figured out why.” Linda said looking at the hydra symbol.

“Of course.” Steve said grabbing one of the weapons and walks out pissed off. 

“So What is PHASE 2?” They heard Tony asked when they reached the lab. 

“PHASE 2 is SHIELD uses the cube to make weapons.” Steve said dropping the Hydra assault rifle on the table, “Sorry, the computer was moving a little slow.” 

“Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract. This does not mean that we're…” Fury tried to explained.

“I'm sorry, Nick.” Tony said turning the screen over showing the weapons they plan on using the tesseract to make. “What were you lying?”

“I was wrong, director. The world hasn't changed a bit.” Steve said looking at Fury pissed.  

At that moment, Thor and Natasha walk into the lab. Natasha keeps her eyes right on Banner. Banner looks at her, pissed. 

“Did you know about this?” Banner said toward her. 

“You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor?” Natasha asked making him scoff. 

“I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed.” 

“Loki's manipulating you.” She said getting closer to banner 

“And you've been doing what exactly?” 

“You didn't come here because I batted my eyelashes at you.”

“Yes, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy. I'd like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction.” Banner asked turning the screen pointing at it. 

“Because of him.” Fury said pointing to Thor 

“Me?” Thor asked stunned 

“Last year earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned.” Fury explained looking at us. 

“My people want nothing but peace with your planet.” 

“Said the son of the man who banished me to this world.” Linda said quietly rolling her eyes.

“Luna, what my father did...” 

“Its LINDA!! One more time and I will turn you into Mead.” Linda/Luna growled flashing her eyes at him causing Steve to hold her shoulder calming her down.  

“But you're not the only people out there, are you? And, you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched, they can't be controlled.” 

“Like you controlled the cube?” Steve asked 

“You're work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies. It is the signal to all the realms that the earth is ready for a higher form of war.” Thor said 

“A higher form?” Steved asked 

“You forced our hand. We had to come up with something.” Fury explained.

“Nuclear deterrent. `Cause that always calms everything right down.” Tony said 

“Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?”

“I'm sure if he still made Wait! Wait! Hold on! How is weapons, Stark would be neck this now about me? deep... I'm sorry, isn't THOR everything? I thought humans were more evolved than this.” Steve and Tony went back to back then Thor and Fury.

“Excuse me, did WE come to YOUR planet and blow stuff up?” Fury asked Thor 

“Did you always give your champions such mistrust?”

“Are you all really that naive? S.H.I.E.L.D monitors potential threat potential threats? watch list?” 

“I swear to God, Stark, one You're on that list? Are you more crack... above or below angry bees? Threatening! I feel threatened!”  

“You speak of control, yet you court chaos.” Thor said 

“It's his M.O., isn't it? I mean, what are we, a team? No, no, no. We're a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We're... we're a time-bomb.” Banner said 

“You need to step away.” Fury said to Banner.

“Why shouldn't the guy let off a little steam?” Tony said putting his arm on Steve. 

“You know damn well why! Back off!” Steve answered pushing his arm off 

“Oh, I'm starting to want you to make me.” Tony said getting into Steve face making Linda pissed. 

“Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?” 

“Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” Tony answered making Linda scoff. 

“God he’s more arrogant than his father.” Linda said shaking her head making Natasha smirk.

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you. Yeah, I've seen the footage.  The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You're not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.” Steve said 

“I think I would just cut the wire.” Tony said making them smirk. 

“Always a way out... You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero.” Steve said smugly  

“A hero? Like you? You're a lab rat, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle!” 

“Put on the suit, let's go a few rounds.” Steve said looking at Tony. 

“Tony. Steve. That’s enough.” Linda said getting pissed. 

“Oh don’t let me get started on you sweetcakes. I read and heard all about your ability but yet you choose not to use it claiming you’re too unstable.” Tony said turning to look at Linda. 

“Oh Tony, you don’t want to start with me.” Linda/Luna said, her eyes turning black. 

“Linda, calm down.” Steve warned. 

“Yeah and if I do what are you going to do? All you need right now is a good time, maybe you and Cap can do us a favor and get it each other off and save us som……” Tony never finished as Linda put her finger on his lips muting him. Tony tried to talk more but nothing comes out, he start to grab his throat confused making Linda smirk.

“Oh what is that, I can’t hear you.” Linda said putting her hand to her ears making Thor laugh remember all the tricks she used to play before she slaps Tony head again walking away from him. 

“That was so uncalled for.” Tony said with his voice back.

“Worked on your father.” Linda said giving him a middle finger. 

“Yeah, this is a team” Banner said 

“Agent Romanoff, would you escort  Dr.Banner back to his…” Fury said 

“Where? You rented my room.” 

“ The cell was just in case…” 

“In case you needed to kill me, but you can't! I know! I tried!” Banner started making everyone look at him. “I got low. I didn't see an end, so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spit it out! So I moved on. I  focused on helping other people. I was good, until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone at risk! You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay calm?” Banner said getting more angry before Romanoff and Fury hands went to their gun 

“Doctor Banner... put down the scepter.” Steve said calmly, Banner looks down to his hand shocked to see he was indeed holding the Scepter. Not long before the computer beeped, causing everyone to look at the screen, Banner put down the Scepter and walked over to the computer. “Sorry, kids. You don't get to see my little party trick after all.” 

“Located the Tesseract?”

“I can get there fastest.” Tony said 

“The Tesseract belongs on Asgard, no human is a match for it.” Thor said making Linda roll her eyes.

“You're not going alone!” Steve said stopping Tony.

“You gonna stop me?” 

“Put on the suit, let's find out.” Steve said as Tony walked up to his face.

“I'm not afraid to hit an old man.” 

“Put on the suit.” 

“Oh, my God!” Banner said looking at the screen realizing something before engine exploded on the carrier dropping Natasha, Banner and Linda down a level.

“Put on the suit!” Steve said to Tony. 

“Yep!” 

“Linda are you okay?” Steve asked over the com as she struggles to stand up with a pipe lodged into her side. 

“Yup I am okay.” Linda said grunting pulling the pipe out as her body regenerates.  

“That doesn’t sound good.” Steve said worried.

“Fast healing remember Cap. Go I got this.” Linda said staring at Natasha and Banner who was about to Hulk out.

“We’re okay right?” Natasha said  “Doctor... Bruce, you gotta fight it. This is just what Loki wants. We're gonna be okay. Listen to me.” 

“Are you hurt?” Two Shield soldiers arrives to check on them but Linda waves them away. 

“We're gonna be okay. Right? I swear on my life I will get you out of this, you will walk away, and never…” 

“Your life?”Bruce screamed with his voice morphing into a growled threat before falling off the platform. 

“Bruce” Natasha plead when he looked her in the eyes before turning Hulk. Linda took this as an opportunity to help Natasha stuck leg out of the fallen pipe. They got off the platform looking at the Hulk, he turns and stares at them. 

“Run.” Linda said pulling Natasha up the stairs. Linda and her was bolting, jumping the pipes and each time they land seems like the Hulk was right under them. “Up we should go up.” 

When they seem to lose the Hulk he appeared out of nowhere roaring at them causing Natasha to shoot one of the pipes near him. 

“I think you pissed him off.” Linda said before they started to run in the opposite direction as him with him chasing after them destroying everything in his path. Linda was far ahead of Natasha when the Hulk caught up to her and smashed her to the wall. Linda turned back about to tackle the Hulk but Thor came out of nowhere smashing Hulk into the wall next to them into the next room . 

“Agent Romanoff can you walk?” Linda said running over to her. 

“Yeah I am fine.” She said. 

“Okay I am going to Cap.” Linda said running off. 

“Yup, you go do that.” She said trying to catch her breathe “Stupid super soldiers.” 

On the way to engine three  Linda hears Tony on the com calling Steve for the lever but Steve sounds like he was struggling along with gunshots. She ran faster to the door seeing an agent shooting upward before turning to her and she does a roundabout kick knocking him out on the floor, just in time for Tony to say help as Steve pulls the lever sitting down catching his breath. 

“Can your timing be anymore perfect?” Steve said looking at Linda stand with one arm on her hips. 

“Till the end of the line pal.” She said with a smirk on her face. 

[justanothr]

Spider sleuth and the case of a missing MJ part 2

FANFIC: PETER X MICHELLE Alright guys, there will have to be a part 3. The story gets a little cheesy and angsty over here. Fair warning. Special shoutout to: @tomhollandisdaddy2003  ! You have motivated me to write the next part of this story! Thank you! :* Quick recap of part 1: Spidey falls out of a tree right in front of Michelle's front door. For more part 1 read: https://justanotherfangirlpassingthrough.tumblr.com/post/163860253638/spider-sleuth-and-the-case-of-a-missing-mj

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

PART 2: Peter hadn't planned on starting a conversation with MJ! He had to say something now, though. It would be super awkward otherwise. "H-hey, Mich- uhm, miss! How are you doing on a fine day like this! " Peter tried and failed, to make his voice sound as deep as possible. This was going to end well. "Hey spider dude." Said Michelle. She'd lost her composure for only about a second. Now she was leaning coolly against the doorframe. "It's spiderman!" Peter corrected. "Yeah, whatever, I don't care." She was eyeing him with those striking eyes of hers, looking as bored and uninterested as ever. She still had unmistakable marks of bruising on her cheek. She also had crazy dark circles, making her look like she hadn't slept for weeks. He slowly let go of the web string and landed lightly on to the ground. God, how he hoped that he looked cooler than he felt. "So are you here looking for a bad guy in my frontyard? Because if you are, there's this really nasty racoon that's been terrorising my cat for the past week. It might be worth looking into as well." "Uh ma'am, I was just passing through! But you can count on your friendly neighborhood spiderman to get rid of the racoon menace for you!" Peter did a sort of salute and started to turn around, desperate for an escape. "Yo, hold up just a second, spider thing! " "It's spiderman" Peter groaned under his breath as he turned back around to face her. She rummaged through her hoodie pocket, took out a Rubik's cube and started fidgeting with it with quick flicks of her fingers. Not even looking up from the cube, she said, " I was just wondering about what you were doing in DC that day. The day the Washington monument blew up." She looked up at him with a slight smile. Ok, this was getting bad. He had to leave NOW. But something kept him rooted to the ground. "Uh, it was a lucky coincidence, really!" He said, sort of lamely. " Uh-uh" she said, continuing to flick her Rubik's cube around. " A local New York vigilante, spotted almost everyday on the streets of Queens, decides to visit Washington on the very day the monument blows up?" Damn, this girl ain't easy to convince! " Well, to tell you the truth, It was a tip off that led me to the bomb. There were a lot of things going on at the time... " Peter improvised. He tried to run his hand through his hair but then realized he had the mask on and awkwardly lowered it. "Sure, sure..." She was concentrating on the cube now. "You know, there's this loser named peter parker in my decathlon team. He says he knows you. He was supposed to be at the Washington monument with us that day, but he wasn't. Do you know where he disappears off to? " She tossed the Rubik's cube upwards and caught it. It was fully solved. Holy mother of spiders. " I know Peter , he's a good kid! But I cannot stay here and answer your questions all day, ma'am. I have a city to watch over! So see you around! " "Alright, spider dude! " "Just don't get into any trouble" he said, gesturing at his cheek. She raised her middle finger at him. "Fuck off, spiderman!" "Now she gets my name right." He muttered, as he turned around and swung away. ------------------------- "So you were stalking her." " Don't call it that, Ned!" Peter groaned. He was lying on his bed with his face buried in his pillow while Ned sat at the table, trying to finish an essay which was due the next day. " What else would you call following someone to their house without their permission?" Peter sat up. " look, I'm sure Michelle probably just ran into someone's extended fist and got bruised. But if there was even the slightest chance that she was in some sort of trouble, and I was sitting right there not doing anything, I'd feel terrible. I mean, what's the point of being a superhero if you can't even look out for your friends!" " I get your point. We are probably the closest things to 'friends' that she has." "Exactly! And she was right there and I couldn't help myself. " Peter sighed. " Anyway, I didn't really have to worry. I just got owned by her." " Yup. She wiped the floor with you." Said Ned, nodding. Peter threw the pillow at him. " MJ suspects that I'm spiderman. This is the last thing I needed right now." " Well, you can worry about that later. You have three essays to finish by tomorrow." ------------------------- MJ was a no show to school the next day too. Peter was returning home after running a couple of errands for May that evening. As he reached the seventh floor, he heard voices issuing from outside old Mrs Anna's house from across the hallway. Mrs Anna was this lovely old lady who always offered sweet treats to Peter when he was little. "Now don't get too stressed out, Michelle dear." She was saying. " You and your sister need plenty of sleep. Make sure you get it, won't you? " " don't worry about it, aunt Anna!" It was MJ's voice. Peter instinctively hid around a corner in the hallway, listening. He didn't want to have any awkward encounters. Not two days in a row. "Ohh, I won't. Take care now, both of you! And give Madeline my best!" " We will aunt Anna!" Came a second girl's voice. The sister? There were footsteps coming his way as the two girls approached the lift. They passed Peter in his hiding place and as they did, he could make out MJ's face. She had a swollen lip today and more bruises. Peter stifled a gasp. Who did this to her!? Face timing Ned later that day, Peter told him about everything he'd seen and heard. "Do you think she's being bullied? " Peter asked apprehensively. "Naah, she's too intimidating for that. She'd be the bully!" "I wouldn't be so sure about that. Bullies come in all shapes and sizes. If there's anything being spiderman has taught me, it's that. " Peter scratched his chin thoughfully. " I could ask Mrs Anna about it. She has always been nice to me." --------------------- Unable to shake the vision of the state of MJ's face last night from his brain, Peter decided to risk being called a nosy prat and pay Mrs Anna a visit. Mrs Anna loved having guests. She was especially delighted to have Peter over. After being offered coffee and a bunch of other snacks and trying his best to engage in small talk, Peter finally managed to get to the point. " So uh- Michelle Jones goes to my school, and I couldn't help but notice that you had her over yesterday!" "Oh you know dear Michelle, do you? What a small world! Her mother Madeline was the only one I was close to in the family. Having her children over is such a joy, seeing how I don't have any of my own!" She chuckled fondly. Peter went on tentatively. " She hasn't been coming to school much these days. I was just wondering if something's going on..." Mrs Anna's face grew somber. " She has been through a lot, Michelle. But she's a strong girl. She always has been. Never had many friends. Kids her age always think of her as weird, that's what she'd tell me. She has grown used to being alone. " Mrs Anna took a sip of her coffee, frowning. " But everyone needs friends at some point, Peter. No matter how strong they are. And that's why it's so great to see that she has someone like you asking after her, it really is. But it's not my place to tell you what she is going through, you'll have to ask her that yourself." She finished, with a sad smile on her face. ----------------------- You do not always need a fancy suit or a mask to help people. Sometimes, all you've got to be is yourself. Peter figured that Michelle didn't need Spiderman's help, she needed Peter Parker's. It was really chilly outside. Peter wore a jacket over his hoodie as he left the house that evening. He'd decided to go right up to MJ's front door and talk to her. Mrs Anna was right. No one can get through life without friends. He had Ned and that made life so much better. MJ shouldn't have to deal with whatever she was going through alone. She would have him if she needed him. part 3:

https://justanotherfangirlpassingthrough.tumblr.com/post/164320973808/spider-sleuth-and-the-case-of-a-missing-mj-part

[iwritestuffsometimes]

Chihuahuas Vs. Pit Bulls (Written By Anon Ace)

The second most memorable thing about the day James met Hunter was that it was also the first time he had ever been punched in the face. He was nine years old, and while walking to school, James spotted a bigger kid pushing around two smaller kids. His little brother and sister stopped to watch. James tried to get them going. He was going to be late- why his mother allowed them to walk on the first day, he didn’t know, but it was proving to be a mistake. His sister, wide-eyed and staring, pointed at where a boy, who was hardly bigger than she was, struggled with a kid almost twice his size while a girl from James’ class watched, crying. “Why?” His sister asked. James didn’t know. “Bigger kids do that sometimes,” He offered, and tugged on her hand. “C'mon, before it’s us.” “Can’t you help him?” This from his brother, who thought that because James could monkey his way to steal chocolate from the top shelf in the kitchen, he could do anything. The bigger kid now sat on the smaller boy’s chest, and started pushing his head into the concrete. The kid’s face was bleeding and his eyes were glazed, but he wasn’t crying. His little arms were still swinging up at the bigger kid, hands curled into small fists that pounded at the bully’s chest. The last thing James wanted was to get involved. He’d fallen down on the sidewalk before, jumping out of his apartment’s window because he thought he could fly. He’d cracked a tooth and broke his wrist. It hurt. The last thing he wanted was to get beat up on purpose. But he looked at his brother and sister, at their total faith in their big brother’s abilities, and found himself thinking about what he would do if it was one of them. Before he knew it, he was across the street and diving on top of the big bully with his eyes closed so he didn’t have to see his own beatdown coming. He lashed out blindly in the bully’s general direction. He felt his own small knuckles come away bloody. The bigger kid socked him right in the eye, threw him on the ground and gave him one good kick before he ran away, deciding- James thought- that five kids was more trouble than two. The breath came back into James’s body before the smaller kid recovered his, so he helped him up- squirming in discomfort when the kid leaned on him, red-faced and gasping. “What were you doing?” James asked him, when the kid finally let go of him to brace himself on the nearest wall. “He was trying to take Liz’s lunch,” the kid gasped, clutching his skinny chest like his heart would burst if he let go. “I gave him mine, but he still wouldn’t leave her alone.” James looked at the kid, and couldn’t believe that someone would ever give away food without a beating first, let alone fight so hard for someone else’s that he takes the beating anyway. He cast a look at the girl named Liz, who was holding her lunch like a bomb that might go off at any second. “Your brother?” he asked. She shook her head. “I never talked to him before.” James looked back at the kid. “Serious?” He nodded. His breathing was starting to calm, but his face was starting to go from red to bruised, and there was blood dripping from a cut on his head. James wiped at it with his sleeve. “I’m James,” he said. “Hunter,” the kid answered. When they got to school, James found out that Hunter was actually his own age, and they would be in the same class. He found that out when he got assigned to look after him when Hunter insisted he didn’t need to go home. James guessed he got the job because-bruised and bloody and holding onto to each other so Hunter doesn’t fall over- they look like friends. James gave him half of his own lunch. II. James poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he positioned the container of ice over the plastic bag, concentrating hard so he didn’t miss the opening. He missed the opening twice, and he had to chase the cubes around the kitchen floor before managing to scoop them up in a towel. He held the mass to Hunter’s fat, bleeding lip. “What happened this time?” he asked. He didn’t know why he bothered. The answer was nearly always the same: Chuck Gardner picking on some girl. That’d been the answer since they were nine. James didn’t know if it was girls or Chuck that made Hunter forget every time that he was barely the size of an eleven-year-old even at fourteen. Or that the whole four times he’d won a fight with Chuck were all when James was there to step in and finish it. Predictably, Hunter said, “Chuck grabbed Chloe Miller’s–” He couldn’t seem to find a word he was comfortable saying, so he mimed a breast instead, his face flushing with heat all the way to his neck. James pressed the inside of his wrist against his forehead with a sigh. “And it never makes a difference to you that he’s bigger than you?” He asked. “You know he’s bigger than you, right? He doesn’t, say, look smaller than he is with your glasses off?” Hunter’s glasses were broken by Chuck in the first week of school that year, and another pair hadn’t managed to materialize. “No, I know he’s bigger,” Hunter says. “That doesn’t make it okay to walk on by.” And that’s Hunter all over, James thinks, with exasperated fondness. “Do you think you could maybe get me first before you jump in next time?” James asked. Hunter did his best to smile at him around the towel. Smiling must’ve hurt, though, because he winced. “You were too far away,” Hunter said. James shook his head. “So I’m just going to have to watch you all the time. I see how it is.” “I don’t have to be watched all the time,” Hunter said, frowning. Somewhere up there with Hunter’s notions of chivalry was his sense of pride, irked by the idea of his best friend being his babysitter. Sometimes, James would prod him on this, tease Hunter until he actually got mad. He learned that all that accomplished was making Hunter avoid him for a few days, resulting in more fights without any help. He made a joke of it instead. “No, just any time Chuck’s on the same block as a girl.” Hunter smiled again, paying no mind to how much it hurt. “Maybe someone should be watching him.” James laughed. “Maybe.” (Chuck got cancer and moved to a bigger town a year later. James’s mother slapped him for saying he’s thankful, and then God got his licks in, too: new big blockheads sprung up jockeying for position of Bully-In-Chief.) III. James hit Hunter once, and only once, in the entire course of their friendship. On a day so hot, it felt like you could bake cookies on the pavement, Hunter got into another brawl for the honor of a girl he barely knew, a girl he only barely talked to afterwards because for reasons beyond James’s understanding. Hunter didn’t seem to actually be in it for the girls. He didn’t want their admiration of his bravery and honor, despite his obvious disadvantages. He wanted the bravery and honor itself. To be the kind of person who would do things to try and turn the tide in an unfair fight, just because somebody should. Maybe it was his way of dealing with the fact that he was small and non-athletic, of trying to find something in himself that was bold and strong. Maybe it was because he was particularly sensitive to the agonies of the persecuted. James never asked. What he did know was that, after he’d managed to punch out three guys that Hunter stupidly took on at once, years of frustration get the better of him. He let fly his fist and gave Hunter a good one, knocking him down to the ground in one hit. Hunter stared up at him, just as shocked to have received the blow as James was to have given it. James felt sick. In a burst of pain and guilt and nausea and old anger all swelling to the surface, James let go of words he’d held back for years: “You’re not some noble knight on a mission to defend fair Breaux Bridge from her enemies, Hunter. You’re five feet six. You’re a Chihuahua, man. You’re frickin’ small, but you think you’re a Pit. It’s gotta stop ‘cause I can’t keep beating up everyone for you.” “I know,” Hunter said. “I know.” James stood still, seething. What more could he say? You’re not a hero. I know. Case closed. Conversation over. James reached down and helped Hunter to his feet for the millionth time in sixteen years. This time, he received a punch to the shoulder for his trouble. He was so surprised by it that he stumbled into the street. A car blared its horn at him as it swerved to avoid him. James leapt back onto the sidewalk, startled and shaken.  Hunter smirked. “You know you deserved that, right?” The combined impact of the last twenty minutes hit James all at once, so that all he could do was go limp and laugh. “Yeah,” He said. “I know.” Hunter draped his arm around his shoulders and walked him down the street. James wondered what he was going to do with him.

[artificialqueens]

Katya and The Space Barbie (Trixya)- Squeaky

Number one reason not to buy a sex doll from a sketchy, space shop— she might come to life.

(AN: really short, smutty one shot)

The galaxy is infinite, and Katya’s horny.

Those two thoughts aren’t related, but they occur to her at the same time. The spaceship is lightly vibrating because Katya’s running low on fuel; the vibrations aren’t helping her growing state of arousal. In fact, it’s getting harder and harder to think. The safety straps around her waist and chest are tight, and the reminder of how she’s strapped down makes her squirm against the hard leather.

Katya’s sure she took a left turn at the milky way before hitting accelerate. Or…did she? The directions blur together, and her navigation system took a hit. How am I going to make it back to Mother Ship now? Ask?!

“Uh, this is Captain Zamo from Sputnik reporting in to Headquarters. I’m operating a craft without navigation. Do you copy? Over?”

“Yes, I copy. Are you lost, Captain Obvious? Over.”

Katya internally groans at the sarcastic drawl of Alaska’s voice. Great, if she wanted a tongue lashing, she’d have dialed up her mother. Now, she needs to ask for Alaska Thunder’s help. God, there had never been any other girl at Ru’s Space Academy who gave her shit like Alaska.

“I’m not lost, ‘Lasky, just not…spatially coordinated. Over.”

“That’s the definition of lost. Over.”

“I’m lost when I say I’m lost, which I’m not. Lost that is. And aren’t we all existentially lost in the scale of this never ending universe splattered with stars and sperm? Over.”

Silence.

Katya sighs and presses the voice command: “I’m lost.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Captain. Hmmm….says here you’re approaching Planet Booberella. I’m sure you’ve been there before? Over.”

“Never,” Katya lies and then flushes as she realizes she forgot to say ‘over.’

Wow, way to be obvious, Katya.

“Well, I’m sure there’s a, uh, first time for everything. Pull over for fuel and directions. Over.”

She types in the coordinates for Planet Booberella. It’s infamous for well…boobs and bombs. The women and men there are just as likely to blow you for a copper piece as they are to blow you to pieces for the wrong word.

Katya hesitates before pressing the intercom: “Bets on if I’ll get fucked or sold into space slavery? Over.”

“Bet you’ll meet an alien girl and fuck her over so bad she’ll sell herself. Conversation- OVER.”

Katya bites her lip.

Is Alaska still mad about that whole date thing? Probably. They’d ditched the food and went straight back to her Cube for ‘dessert.’ Katya remembers how she’d pushed Alaska onto her knees. God, Alaska looked so pretty, still in her spandex uniform, with her face buried between Katya’s thighs. They’d fucked on the bed and couch and table. Alaska had come apart so easily under her fingertips. While Katya hasn’t been back to her Cube in months, she bet that Alaska’s ripped up uniform is still there.

“Thanks for the help, Coordinator Thunder. Any chance for another dinner when I get back? I can’t cook, but I could microwave us some popcorn…think about it? Watch the Cult Classic Contact? Over.”

Silence.

Well, losing friends and herself in space is kind of Katya’s specialty. Sputnik’s sput-sputtering down, and Katya’s not going to bother legally landing. She zooms down to one of the Black Market Pods to get herself situated in Tittington. Fuck, why is this whole planet a bad sex pun? It’s the biggest joke in the cosmos.

Katya jumps out, breasts bouncing in her shiny suit. It’s skin tight. Just the way that she likes it. All five of the mechanic’s eyes trail down to her chest as she slides him her platinum card.

“Oi, I’d be careful going out with ‘em bullets on yer chest,” he drawls.

“You want one less eye, huh?” Katya asks as she runs her hand down her thigh to grab her lazor gun and then presses it to his throat.

The mechanic puts his webbed hands up: “Peace, peace. I’ll be done refueling and patching up in an hour. Looks like the engine’s on its last leg.”

“Do a good job, and I’ll give you a tip,” she promises, and Katya regrets her words as soon as she turns. She can feel all five eyes against the curve of her ass. Katya leaves in a huff. Doesn’t anyone in this galaxy have a heart?

“Hearts! Hearts for sale! Buy three and get a kidney for free!” An old lady, porous skin covered in green ooze, wheezes up at Katya.

She flinches. Ugh, it’s like Miss. Fame used to say back at the Academy- ask and the universe will give.

Katya amuses herself by stopping by a hologram store and flipping through the intergalactic net. She gained six new followers on her travel blog. Then Katya goes next to the local, seedy sex shop.

It’s full of gadgets and gizmos that have been scattered all over and somehow filtered down here. The shopkeeper, a cute drag queen named Violet, winks at her when she enters. They’d met and fucked the first time she’d got here, and Katya had never been held down so tightly or fucked so thoroughly as she had with Violet. Katya leans against the counter-

“So what you got in stock, V?”

“Oh, possessed butt plugs, ancient dildos, and…I shouldn’t be showing you this but…” Violet bounces to the back and comes back with what looks like a Barbie Doll box. Katya’s spent enough years in her childhood watching reruns to recognize it. But what’s it doing in a place like this?

“I’ve heard of a lot of fetishes, doll…but never any involving barbie dolls?”

Katya takes the package in her hands. This doll has big blonde hair up in a pigtail and a Judy Jetson hooker-like costume. What is even supposed to be? A flight attendant? Katya turns the box over and reads ’Here To Satisfy Your Wildest Fantasy- it’s Trixie! Your favorite sex Barbie proves that life in plastic IS really fantastic.’

“It’s small for travel convenience,“ Violet explains. “But press the button in the back, and it blows up. She’s got interchangeable parts for maximum pleasure- since Barbies don’t have any. I just got it in stock, so I don’t know what the reviews are.”

“So I’m like…your test rat?”

“Mm, more like a sexual experiment,” Violet says with a wink.

Katya is horny, but she’s never tried out a sex doll before. From what’s heard of online, they usually come with a remote control, but the Trixie doll doesn’t have any. 

Violet puts her hands on Katya’s: “What do you say? Buy it now, leave me a sweet review on Yelp, and I’ll give you 50% discount, Kat.”

Katya does like the novelty of getting a souvenir from Booberella. Maybe Alaska will get a laugh out of it too…if she ever speaks to her again.

“You know what? I’ll take it." 

Katya pulls out a couple gold coins from her back pocket. She’s glad Booberella is part of the galactic union. It makes buying sex toys all the more convenient. Violet bites down to check that they’re not fools gold and then sends her off with a wink.

Katya’s pleased to see that five-eyed-creep has taken good care of her Sputnik. He leers at her and then the doll pressed up to her chest. God, I’m horny but not blind. 

She salutes the planet with a middle finger as she zooms off. 

Then she’s back on course for the Mother Ship. Katya sets the ships destination and leaves it for auto pilot. She’s still tightly strapped into her seat as she swivels her chair around to inspect the doll she bought. Katya gently runs her hands across the plastic casing. 

"Hello, there, Trixie,” she whispers. “Now, let’s see how you look outta the box.”

Katya tries to be neat, but she ends up tearing it open. Looks like a Barbie that she saw in the kiddie holograms. She never had one when she was little, so Katya takes a moment to run her hands through her soft, blonde hair. Skin’s tight and plastic. Katya flips up the white skirt, but it’s smooth- neither cunt nor cock to be seen. 

She undoes the velcro of the back of doll’s dress to find a switch. It’s OFF right now. Does she really want to do this? Maybe just to say that she tried it.

Katya slowly undoes her seat belt, sucks in her breathe, and presses ON. 

There’s a mechanical 'whirring,’ and the doll gets so hot in her hands Katya drops it.

Fuck!

There’s a bright white flash, smoke, and Katya’s bent over, coughing. 

“Thank god someone got me out of that box,” comes a voice from the mist. 

“W-who are you?”

“The voice of god- who the fuck do you think it is? I’m the sex doll you just bought and turned on. Though gods know why considering my line’s been recalled,” a humanoid figure parts the white. “Name’s Trixie. Mattel. Trixie Mattel.”

“Uh, Katya. Zamo. Captain of Sputnik and- what do you mean recalled?”

If Katya was low key aroused before, now her nipples are pressed against the tight latex of her uniform. Trixie’s got thighs like woah!, flirty eyes, and lips that should be illegal. There’s something eerily android-like about her movements, but the thought only turns Katya on more. 

“Mhm, seller musta ripped you off.”

Fuck Violet.

“W-what do you mean? Are you broken?”

“Rude,” Trixie simpers as she stands between Katya’s spread legs. “I mean that’s why they say- our line is prone to uh…malfunctioning?”

“In what way?” she gasps as Trixie drapes herself on her lap. Katya runs a hand up her smooth thighs, admiring how shiny they are. When Trixie giggles, her silicone breasts bounce. They may be fake, but Katya really wants to slide her hands up and squeeze them. But even with Trixya leaning forward against her chest, Katya feels strangely shy. That’s new. 

“We’re self conscious. Can pass the Turning Test. Hate to be turned off and put away….and,” Trixie dramatically pauses as she leans in. “Known to have something as horrible as feelings.”

“Are you telling me a planet called Booberella accidentally created sentient life before anyone else in the galaxy?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“But,” Katya gulps as Trixie cups her face in her cold hands. “H-how’d you know all this? I just took you out of the box?”

Trixie’s lips are pressed up to Katya’s lips as she whispers, “This isn’t my first game of make believe.”

Of course Katya ends up with a sentient fucking sex toy. Trixie smirks at her horrified expression as she straddles her lap. Those thick thighs have a rubbery texture, and Katya’s not sure what to expect when Trixie impishly raises up her skirt. There’s…nothing?

“Tell me which you prefer,” Trixie demands. “I’m trying to follow the steps I was programmed with- one, assess owner. Two, satisfy needs. 

"Both? Either? Uh….”

Trixie rolls her eyes: “Problem with assessing is when people don’t know what they want. Let’s start slow and then I’ll give you what you need, baby.”

Baby? The words make Katya flush and squeeze her legs together as Trixie pulls her in for a kiss. Her lips are glossy and soft. She tastes like cherry lip gloss. It doesn’t feel much different from kissing Alaska. 

Trixie unzips her uniform, so Katya’s heavy breasts are revealed. Then her wet tongue is lapping at them. Katya squeaks and clenches at the sudden pleasure. Everything’s gone from 0 to 100 real quick. Trixie’s pink tongue slowly circles her nipples, and Katya flushes as she runs her hand through Trixie’s soft hair. 

“A-ah, Trixie, fe-feels-”

“Good?” Trixie finishes for her, pulling back so a strand of saliva still connects her to Katya. “I’m state of the fucking art. Just filled with crippling, existential dread.”

Katya gasps- “Me too!”

Trixie tilts her head, confused, as she leans back. Her eyes are filled with a curiosity that doesn’t seem natural to the rest of her. Katya didn’t know what she expected, but it’s not this. This is straight out of a TV show. Straight out of a science fiction novel. Straight out of a poorly set up porno. 

“So you don’t mind the idea that I’m filled with anxiety and neurosis and could disobey you? Put you over my knee and spank you just because I wanted?”

Katya bites her bottom lip and gasps, “S-sounds kinky to me.”

Trixie smirks: “You’re a fun one, huh?”

Then she sinks down onto her knees, and Katya hasn’t had anyone since Alaska. So the sudden tickle of Trixie’s fingertips against her still covered thighs makes her gasp. Katya’s wriggles out of her uniform, flushing under Trixie’s eyes. She’s not wearing any underwear.

“Such a good little captain, aren’t you?” Trixie demurs as she presses a fleeting kiss right above Katya’s wet desire. She’s been on space Odyssey for a month, so she’s not as neatly shaved as she’d like to be. But Trixie doesn’t seem to mind. Why would she?

“Oh, so how do I, uh-”

“Open your legs,” Trixie orders with a snap of her fingers. 

Fuck. Katya’s eyes flutter at the direct command, and it sends a sudden shiver up her spine. She loves to be told what to do like that. She’s always commanding her ship, so it’s nice to have someone else take the control away from her. Katya never thought a recalled barbie doll would be the one to do it for her. 

Then Trixie’s burying her blonde head between Katya’s thighs. Her tongue’s lapping at Katya’s wet folds. She whimpers. Katya runs her hands through Trixie’s hair again, and, wow, this feels real. It is real, isn’t it?

“I-I’ve ne-never met someone like you,” Katya gasps.

“You’re not really the type who usually buys a sex toy.”

“I’m glad I did,” Katya admits, flushing at the vulnerability, as Trixie looks up at her through her long lashes. The wetness of Trixie’s tongue has her leaking all over her Captain’s chair. Her toes curl in her space boots, waiting for more. 

“Your better than the last one,” Trixie says, and her eyes are softer than before. She leans up to press a kiss against Katya’s lips. She squirms in her seat, and Katya needs something more. 

“Trixie,” Katya gasps, unsure what’s she even asking for.

“Shhh, I got'chu, baby,” Trixie whispers. 

There’s a soft whirring and when Trixie lifts up her skirt again, there’s a toy strap there. Katya wants to try out all her functions, but she bites her lip at the sight of the phallic toy. Trixie roughly pushes her around, so Katya’s turned and pressed up to her chair. She holds the safety straps, arching her back in anticipation. 

Then Trixie’s pushing inside of her, and Katya mewls in pleasure. She’s been on edge, humming with low arousal all day. Finally, Trixie’s got a hand wrapped in her hair and is moving into her just like she needs. 

“There you go, Captain Zamo,” Trixie whispers in her ear as she fucks her, speeding up her pace. 

“A-ah,” Katya moans.

It’s the position in her chair, and the way Trixie’s pulling her hair as she fucks her that pushes Katya over the edge. With a whimper, Katya squeezes her thighs together. The liquid spills down her shaking thighs.

Oh, god, she loves how helpless she is. 

Trixie pulls out of her and whispers: “Again, Captain?”

“F-fuck yeah.”

Katya’s horny, and the universe is so wonderful. This is exactly what she wanted. 

[selfconsciousbee]

Your Darkside Will Make You Whole: Part 2

This is the continuation of my Reylo Fanfic. The first part can be found by scrolling down on my page. This is a slow burn of a story. There are some spoilers from the Bloodlines book by Claudia Gray. If you don’t want to see them don’t listen to Po when he is on the Millenium Falcon. Lots love written here for our favorite space mom.

The next morning, I am meditating with Master Luke at our favorite spot overlooking the ocean. I am trying to stop thinking about the dream but it keeps rising to the surface and disturbing me. This really isn’t something that I want Master Luke to know about. I blush with shame and pray that I never have to have that discussion. I am embarrassed. Kylo Ren is horrible. He killed Han Solo and his fellow Jedi. He follows the Darkside. What twisted part of my subconscious would even come up with something like that dream? Thankfully, Master Luke provides a distraction by asking, “Are you ready for the Gathering?”

“Yes, master.”

“Ilum use to be a revered pilgrimage site for Jedi. All of the Padawans use to go there to collect their first crystals. Beneath the temple is a maze of tunnels. Inside you will find Adegan crystals. Find the one that calls to you. Be mindful while you are there. The caves create a nexus in the Force. It may be disorientating and may cause hallucinations. Do not let this divert you. The Force will guide you to the crystal that is meant for you.”

There is a long pause as we watch the Millenium Falcon start to make its descent onto the island. He smiles at me and says, “You can do this, Rey. Trust yourself and trust your friends.” and we get up to meet the new arrivals.

Finn steps off of the lowering ramp of the Millennium Falcon. He is wearing all black along with his familiar jacket. The former Stormtrooper grins widely when he sees me but is startled when BB-8 zooms past him to get to me first. I laugh as BB-8 stops with that funny little wobble he does. He excitedly chirps in Binary how much he missed me and I smile and pat his head. I run to Finn and we are both giddy and greet each other with as much enthusiasm as two yearling Banthas. BB-8 circles us and chirps as Finn and I talk over each other.

“How is your training going?”

“No, how is your training?”

“Tell me what’s happening with the Resistance?”

“Have you learned to mind control yet?”

“I’ve got that. Working on Force speed. Have you figured out how to fly yet?”

“No! I think I’ll focus on being a gunner and leave the flying to Po.”

���And we are all grateful for that.” Po Dameron smirks as he dodges BB-8 to join us. He gives me a quick hug.

“Any luck winning over Chewie yet?” I ask. The rebellion pilot gives a wry grin and replies, “I think his heart belongs to another.”

Chewie catches up to us and sweeps me off my feet. I laugh as he spins me around. “Miss me as a co-pilot?” I jokingly ask. Chewie growls some complaints that Finn has the flying instincts of a rock and Po only wants to play in little X-wings. He lifts me up so I’m eye level with him.

“Don’t be a Jedi.” he howls, “You are meant to be a smuggler. Run away with me.” I dissolve into a giggling mess and give him another hug when he puts me down.

“Get off of her, you old Wookie or at least bring her over here so that I can take a look at her.” I hear Leia lovingly say behind us followed by Master Luke’s chuckle. Chewie adjusts his grip and sweeps me up onto his back. I shriek and grip his shoulders tightly and start to giggle as he bounces me over to Leia. She is wearing her long graying hair in a beautiful long loose braid. Chewie puts me down in front of Leia. She puts her hands on my face and looks at me like she is searching for something. I don’t know what she is looking for but she smiles and pulls me into a hug. I feel the calming energy that she exudes as I wrap my arms around her. When I pull away, I catch a flash of sadness and know that she is thinking of her son.  

“It’s so good to see you, Rey.”

“Thank you, I’m so glad you are here.”

“Ilum is an ice planet. I have packed you extra clothes and a coat. There is also a backpack of everything you will need.”

“Thank you, so much.”

I don’t know what to say after that. I feel overwhelmed and never want this to stop. It’s like a dream. I didn’t think that I would find belonging so quickly and I never want to give it up. I look at Leia and try not to make a fool out of myself. Out of everyone, including Master Luke, I want her approval above all else. She fondly pats my cheek and says, “Please be safe and hurry back. We’ll all have dinner together tomorrow.”

A few hours later, Finn, Po, and I are in the common area on the Millennium Falcon. Finn and Po are playing a funny strategy game that I haven’t played before. It has holograms of varying creatures and the goal seems to be to have your creatures bludgeon your opponent's creatures and the last standing wins. Its tech is pretty behind the times. As a scavenger, I don’t think even I would try to salvage it. But they are having fun.  

“There is something that I don’t understand.” Finn says.

“Like how to play this game.” Po teases as a big armed monster of Po’s crushes Finn’s tentacle one.

Finn’s face tightens into a frown and I smile distractedly as I continue to fiddle with the parts that will eventually be the housing for the crystal in my saberstaff.

“No, well yes that too, but something else. General Organa and her brother, were instrumental in the fall of the Empire. When the First Order was rising, the General was a senator but the Republic Senate did nothing to increase its military. Now the only army is the one that General Organa created outside the Republic’s consent. I would have thought that, given who she is, they would have helped. Why didn’t they?”

I put down the casing and look to Po. “Master Luke never discussed it either but it didn’t really come up.”  

“Where have you two been living?” Po says in surprise looking back and forth between the two of us.

“Um...Stormtrooper program.”

“Jakku.”

“Right.”

Po’s brow furls as he tries to figure out where to start. He sits back as he begins,

“Ok, well. General Organa was a senator along with Mon Mothma. Mon Mothma was able to guide the Senate of the New Republic and it did some good work for awhile. But after she died, no one was able to take her place and the in-fighting between two opposing parties, the Populist and the Centrists, made it impossible to get anything done. The Senate was pretty useless and that was about the same time that Senator Organa and Senator Ransolm Casterfo started an investigation into a criminal cartel. It turned out that it was funding the First Order. But nothing could be done about that until the Senate could function. A motion was passed for the creation of a First Senator that would have real power over the Senate. Senator Organa was the lead candidate for the Centrists but a rival revealed that Senator Organa was the daughter of Darth Vader. Something that she had kept a secret. It ruined her political career and she lost all clout. It was a big scandal and everyone in the Galaxy knew about it. Except, apparently, you two. It was about six or seven years ago. The Senate would do nothing about the First Order so in the end she had no choice but create a resistance against the First Order without the help of the New Republic.”

“They sure farkled themselves with that decision.” I say and sigh thinking about all those people that were destroyed by the First Order.

“Rey! Such language. What did they teach you under that rock you were living under.” Po exclaimes and quickly covers Finn’s ears. “Not in front of the youngling Reb.”

Finn knocks his hands away and exclaims, “Get off of me. They had that word under my rock too.” 

 I feel the jolt as the Millennium Falcon slips out of hyperspace and hear Chewie in the cockpit call out.

“What did he say?” Finn asks me.

“Umm, we are here so stop gossiping and get ready.”

 I find the bag that Leia had left for me and a part of me imagines that this is what it feels like when a mom looks after you. I let that thought go. I tell myself that I have no more tears to cry over that and focus on what is in the bag. She thought of everything. Extra thermals to go over my clothes, an emergency medical and survival kit, tracking device, and, at the very bottom, a gun. I don’t think I’ll need it because I still have Luke’s lightsaber and the planet is abandoned. But seeing the gun makes me happy. It seems like such a Leia thing to include. She cares and is trying to include everything that will make sure I will be coming back.

After I finish dressing, I join everyone else in the cockpit. Just as Leia had said, Ilum is an ice planet and it looks like a storm will be blowing in within the galactic standard hour. Chewie lands the Falcon at the ruins of the Jedi temple that is located on the side of a snow-covered mountain. I can feel something pull at me and write it off as a side effect of the nearby nexus in the Force. I feel a nervous excitement as we all step off of the Falcon. I zip up my coat and shrug my bag onto my back. Everyone but Chewie stops for a second to brace against a sudden gust of freezing wind. I watch Chewie’s hair swirl around and envy him his coat. It seems to be suited to whatever environment he is in.

Chewie gives a growl that echoes around us and we continue on to the temple. At one point in the temple’s history, there must have been an explosion because the outer face is in ruins. It must have been a while ago because all of the jagged edges of the fallen stones have been smoothed out by the wind. As we get closer we see a path has been cleared away.

“Are we sure this thing is stable?” Finn askes.

“I’m sure it has been frozen in place so long that only a bombing from space will move this ice cube. I vote that we test that theory. Anyone second that motion?” Po says as he pulls his hood up against the wind swirling off of the large temple stones.

“Hey”, I reply, “You guys were the ones that found this planet and the temple. Personally, I would have looked in more hospitable places. But I’ll take ice over sand at this point in my life.”

“I don’t know. It seems kind of perfect for a vacation or epic Jedi quest.” Finn says jokingly, ”Nice view. Quiet. No one trying to kill us. What could go wrong?”

“Finn!” Po says in mock horror and shakes his head, “Why would you jinx us like that? You have so much to learn about the fickleness of life. It’s just waiting for an invitation to turn you into Bantha poodoo.”

[ah17hh]

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rap 🎙 god ✝️ but 🍑 with ➕emojis 😎 for 4️⃣ lyrics 📝

Look 👀 , I 🙋🏼‍♂️ was gonna 🚶🏼‍♂️go easy 1️⃣➕1️⃣ on you 🧑🏻 not 🙅🏼 to hurt 😢 your 👉🏻🧑🏻 feelings 🧠, But 🛑 I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ only going to get ✊🏻 this 📍 one ☝🏻shot ⛹🏼. Something's wrong 🤨, I can feel it 🧐. Just a feeling 🤔 I've got 🙋🏼‍♂️, like something's 😦 about to happen 😨, but I 🙋🏼‍♂️ don't know what 🤷🏼‍♂️. If that 📍 means 📝✅ what I think 🙋🏼‍♂️🧠 it means 📝✅, we're 🌎 in trouble ⚠️, big trouble ‼️⚠️. And if he 🦹🏼‍♂️ is as bananas 🤪🍌 as you say 🧑🏻🗣✅, I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️not taking 🙅🏼✊🏻 any chances 🚫🎲, You 👉🏻 were just what 👌🏻 the doctor 👩🏼‍⚕️ ordered 📝! I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ beginning 🏁 to feel 🧠 like a Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼, Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼, All my people 👨‍👩‍👦👨‍👨‍👦‍👦 from the front 🔝to the back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️, back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️. Now 📅 who 👤❓ thinks 🤔💭 their arms 💪🏼 are long 📏 enough to slap 👋🏻 box 🥊, slap 👋🏻 box 🥊? They 👨‍👨‍👦‍👦 said I 🙋🏼‍♂️ rap 🗣🎙 like a robot 🤖 , so call me 🤙🏼 Rapbot 🤖🗯🎙. But for me 🧑🏼 to rap 🗣🎙 like a computer 💻 must be in my 🙋🏼‍♂️ genes 🧬, I 🙋🏼‍♂️ got ✊🏻 a laptop 💻 in my back 🔙 pocket 👖, My 🙋🏼‍♂️ pen 🖊 will go off 🔥💥📝when I 🧑🏼 half 1️⃣➗2️⃣ cock 🔫 it🖊, Got a fat knot 💰from that rap 🗣🎙 profit 📈💵. Made a living 🏠💵 and a killing 💰😈💰off it 🗣🎙, Ever since 🔙📆 Bill Clinton 👨🏻‍🦳 was still in office 📍🏛 With Monica Lewinsky 👩🏻 feeling 🖐🏻 on his 👨🏻‍🦳 nut-sack 🥜🌰. I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ an MC 😎🗣🎙 still as honest ♾💯🤷🏼‍♂️, But as rude 🥱🖕🏻and as indecent 🤬🗯as all hell ‼️, syllables 1️⃣2️⃣3️⃣. skillaholic 📝➡️😃, Kill 'em 🔪☠️ all 👨‍👩‍👦‍👦🌍 with; This📍flippity 🤸🏼‍♂️ dippity 🤮 hippity 🐇 hip hop 🗣🎙🎶; You 👉🏻🧑🏻don't 🙅🏼 really wanna 🚫📝 get into 📍 a pissing match 💦🤼‍♂️ with this 🙋🏼‍♂️ rappity 🗣🎙brat 😈👶🏼 Packing 🧳 a Mac 💻 in the back 🔙 of the Ac 🚗, backpack 🎒 rap 🗣🎙 crap 💩 , yap yap 🗯💬 yackety-yack 🗣🥱 And ➕ at 📍the exact 💯 same time 🕑➿🕑 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ attempt 🏃🏼these 👉🏻lyrical 📝 acrobat stunts 🤸🏼‍♂️ while I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ practicing 🧐That I'll 🧑🏼still be able 👍🏻 to break 💔 a motherfucking 🧓🏻👉🏻👌🏻 table 🪑 Over the back 🔙 of a couple of faggots 👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻 and crack it 🪑 in half 1️⃣➗2️⃣ Only realized 😳 it was ironic 🤭 I 🧍🏼was signed 📋 to Aftermath 🏢🗣🎙 after 🔜 the fact 1️⃣➕1️⃣🔜2️⃣. How could 🤔 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ not blow 💥? All I do 🙋🏼‍♂️💯 is drop F-bombs 🤬🗯💣, feel my wrath 😠 of attack 🔪🙍🏻 Rappers 👱🏻‍♂️🗣🎙 are having a rough time 📉⏱ period 🩸, here's 🤲🏻 a Maxipad 🩹. It's actually 🤓☝🏻 disastrously 🌋🌪 bad 😧😰 For the wack 🥱😴 while I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ masterfully 💯🤷🏼‍♂️👑 constructing 👷🏼‍♂️🛠 this masterpiece 📝🖼 as- I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ beginning 🏁 to feel 🧠 like a Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼, Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼, All my people 👨‍👩‍👦👨‍👨‍👦‍👦 from the front 🔝to the back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️, back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️. Now 📅 who 👤❓ thinks 🤔💭 their arms 💪🏼 are long 📏 enough to slap 👋🏻 box 🥊, slap 👋🏻 box 🥊? Let me 🙋🏼‍♂️ show 🤲🏻 you 👉🏻🙍🏻maintaining 🧑🏼‍🔧🛠 this shit 💩 ain't 🚫 that 🙅🏼‍♂️ hard 🧱 , that 🙅🏼‍♂️ hard 🧱 Everybody 👨‍👨‍👦‍👦👩‍👩‍👧‍👧🌍 wants 🤲🏻 the key 🔑 and ➕ the secret 📂🤫 to rap 🗣🎙immortality 🚫☠️ like I have got 🙋🏼‍♂️👍🏻 Well, to be truthful 👱🏻‍♂️🖐🏻📖 the blueprint's 📝📃 simply rage 😡 and youthful 👶🏼🧒🏼 exuberance 😄‼️ Everybody 🌎 loves ❤️ to root 🥳🎉 for a nuisance 🤪 Hit 🤜🏻 the earth 🌎 like an asteroid ☄️ did nothing 🙅🏼 but shoot 🏀 for the moon 🌙 since 📆 MC's 🙎🏻‍♂️🗯🎙 get taken 🚕 to school 🏫with this music 🎶 ‘Cause I use it 🙋🏼‍♂️🗯🎙as a vehicle 🚗 to bus 🚌 the rhyme 🎶 Now I 🙋🏼‍♂️ lead a new 🆕 school 🏫 full of students 👨🏻‍🎓👩🏼‍🎓; Me 🧑🏼? I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️a product of Rakim,➕Lakim Shabazz, ➕ 2Pac 🧑🏾‍🦲,➕N.W.A, ➕Cube 🧊, ➕ hey Doc, ➕Ren, ➕Yella, ➕Eazy, thank you 🙏🏻, they got 🔜 Slim 👱🏻‍♂️🙋🏼‍♂️ Inspired 🤩 enough to one day ☝🏻☀️ grow up🧑🏼🔜👱🏻‍♂️, blow up 💣💥 and be in a position 🏢 To meet Run DMC 🏃🏿‍♂️🏃🏿‍♂️🏃🏿‍♂️ and induct them 🧑🏾‍🦲👨🏾‍🦲🧑🏾‍🦲into 🔜 the motherfuckin' 🧓🏻👉🏻👌🏻Rock n' Roll 🎸 Hall of Fame 🏤🤩 Even though I 🙋🏼‍♂️ walk in 🚶🏼‍♂️the church ⛪️ and burst 🧍🏼‍♂️💥 in a ball of flames 🔥🏃🏼‍♂️🔥

Only ☝🏻 Hall of Fame 🏤 I be inducted in 🔜 is the alcohol 🍺 of fame 🤩 On the wall 🧱 of shame 😔 You fags 👉🏻👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻 think 🧠💭 it's all 💯 a game 🕹🧩 'til I walk 🚶🏼‍♂️a flock 🐦🐦🐦 of flames 🔥🔥 Off a plank 🏗 and, tell me 🗣🙋🏼‍♂️ what in the fuck 🤨⁉️ are you 👉🏻🧑🏻 thinking 🤔💭 ? Little 🤏🏻 gay 👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻, So gay 📈👨🏼‍🤝‍👨🏻 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ can barely 🙅🏼‍♂️ say it 🗣 with a straight face 😐 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻 You 👉🏻🧑🏻 witnessing 👀 a mass-occur 😵🔫 Like you 🧍🏻watching 👀 a church gathering ⛪️take place 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻 Oy vey 🔯😦, that boy 🧑🏻is gay 🏳️‍🌈, that's all they 👉🏻👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 say 🗣 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻. You 👉🏻🧍🏻get a thumbs up 👍🏻 , pat 👋🏻 on the back 🔙, And ➕ a "way to go" 👏🏻👍🏻 from your 🧑🏻 label 🏢 everyday 📆➡️📆 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻 Hey 👋🏻 looking 👀 boy🧑🏻, what ❓you🧍🏻say 🗣 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻? I 🙋🏼‍♂️ got a "hell yeah" 🔥👌🏻 from Dre 👨🏾‍🦲 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻. I'mma 🙋🏼‍♂️ work for 👷🏼‍♂️🗣🎙 everything 💯 I have 🏠🚗💰, Never 🙅🏼‍♂️ask nobody 🚫🗣 for shit 😤, get out of👋🏻👉🏻 my face 👱🏻‍♂️ looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻Basically 💁🏼‍♂️ boy 🧑🏻 you're 👉🏻🧍🏻 never 🙅🏼‍♂️ gonna be capable ✅ of keeping up 🏃🏼‍♂️💨🏃🏻with the same 🚫👱🏻‍♂️ pace 🗣💨🎙 looking 👀 boy 🧑🏻

I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ beginning 🏁 to feel 🧠 like a Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼, Rap God 🗣🎙🤴🏼 All my people 👨‍👩‍👦👨‍👨‍👦‍👦 from the front 🔝to the back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️, back 🔙 nod ↪️↩️. The way I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ racing 🏃🏼‍♂️ around the track 🔁 , call me 🤙🏼 Nascar 🏎, Nascar 🏎 Dale Earnhardt 3️⃣👨🏻⚰️ of the trailer park 🚍🏚, the White Trash God 👱🏻‍♂️🗑🤴🏼 Kneel🧎🏻before General Zod ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️🦹🏼‍♂️ this planet’s 🌎 Krypton 🌑, no 🙅🏼 Asgard 🌕, Asgard 🌕 So you 👉🏻🧑🏻 be Thor 🦸🏻🔨 and I'll 🙋🏼‍♂️ be Odin🤴🏼, you 👉🏻 rodent 🙍🏻↔️🐀, I'm 👱🏻‍♂️ omnipotent 🤯 Let off ✋🏻then I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️reloading 🔫immediately‼️with these bombs 💣 I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ totin' 🧳 And I 👱🏻‍♂️ should not 🙅🏼 be woken 😴🚫⏰

I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ the walking 🚶🏼‍♂️dead 😵 but I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️just a talking 🗣 head 👱🏻‍♂️, a zombie 🧟‍♂️ floating 🛫; But I 🙋🏼‍♂️ got your 👉🏻🧑🏻 mom 🧓🏻 deep throating 🍆😮 I'm out my Ramen noodle 🍜 , we 👱🏻‍♂️🧑🏻 have nothing 🙅🏼 in common 🧑🏻🚫👱🏻‍♂️, poodle 🐩, I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ a doberman 🐕, pinch yourself 🧑🏻🤏🏻 in the arm 💪🏼 and pay homage 🙌🏻🙏🏻, pupil 👨🏻‍🎓 It's me 💁🏼‍♂️, my honesty's 🗯💯 brutal 😖 But it's honestly 🗣💯 futile 🚫✏️ if I 🙋🏼‍♂️ don't utilize 🙅🏼 what I do though 🗣🎙For good 👍🏻 at least once☝🏻in a while 📆 So I 🙋🏼‍♂️wanna make sure 🔎✅ somewhere in this 📍 chicken scratch 📝 I scribble 🖊 and doodle 🖍 Enough 📊 rhymes 🗣🎙to maybe 🤷🏼‍♂️ to try and help 🤝🆘 get some people 👨‍👩‍👦 through tough times 🙇🏼‍♂️📉📆 But I 🙋🏼‍♂️ gotta keep ✊🏻 a few punchlines 🤣📃 just in case🤞🏻 ‘Cause even you 👉🏻 🧑🏻unsigned 🚫✒️📋 Rappers 🗣🎙are hungry 😠🍽 looking 👀 at me 🙋🏼‍♂️ like it's lunchtime ⌚️📍🕛 I know 🙄 there was 🔚 a time 📆⏰ where once ☝🏻, I 🙋🏼‍♂️ Was king 🤴🏼 of the underground 🏚🚧, but I 👱🏻‍♂️ still 💯 rap 🗣🎙 like I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ on my 🙋🏼‍♂️ Pharoahe Monch 🧔🏿 grind 💯 So I 👱🏻‍♂️ crunch rhymes 🎶, but sometimes ⏰ when you combine ➕ Appeal 👨🏻‍🎤🗣🎙with ➕ this skin color 👱🏻‍♂️ of mine 🙋🏼‍♂️You get too big 📈‼️ and here they come 🏃🏻🏃🏻‍♂️ trying to Censor you 🤭 like that one ☝🏻 line 📝 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ said 🗣 on "I'm Back" 🔥 from the Mathers LP One 💽 when I 🙋🏼‍♂️ tried to say 🗣 "I'll 👱🏻‍♂️ take seven ✋🏻➕✌🏻 kids 👦🏼👧🏼 from Columbine 🏫 Put 'em all 👦🏼👧🏼 in a line 📈, add ➕ an AK-47 🔫4️⃣7️⃣, a revolver 🔫, and ➕ a nine 9️⃣🔫" Let’s🧍🏻🧍🏼‍♂️see 👀 if I 🙋🏼‍♂️ get away 🏃🏼‍♂️ with it 📝 now 📍📅 that I 🙋🏼‍♂️ ain't as big 🙅🏼‍♂️📈 as I was 📈🔜📉, but I'm 👱🏻‍♂️ Morphin' 〽️into an immortal 👱🏻‍♂️🔜🦸🏼coming through 🏃🏼‍♂️the portal 🌀 You're 👉🏻🧑🏻 stuck 😖 in a time warp 🌀⏰ from 2004 🔙📅 though And I don't know 🤷🏼‍♂️ what the fuck 🤨 that you 🧑🏻 rhyme for 🗣🎙❓You're 🙍🏻 pointless 🚫✏️ as Rapunzel 🧝🏻‍♀️ with fucking 👉🏻👌🏻cornrows 🤔 You 🧑🏻write 📝 normal 😐, fuck 🖕🏻being normal 🤪 And I 🙋🏼‍♂️ just brought a new 🆕 Raygun 🔫 from the future 🔜📅 Just to come 💁🏼‍♂️ and shoot ya 🙍🏻💥🔫 like when Fabolous 🧑🏾‍🦲 made Ray J 👨🏾‍🦲 mad 😡, ‘Cause Fab 🧑🏾‍🦲 said 🗣 he 👨🏾‍🦲 looked 👀 like a fag 👬🏾 at Maywhether's 👨🏾‍🦲🥊 pad 🏦 Singin' 🗣🎤🎵 to a man 🧔🏻 while they 🧍🏾‍♂️🧍🏿‍♂️played piano 🎹 Man oh man 😰, that 🔙 was a 24/7 special ☀️🔁🌙 ♾ on the cable channel 📺 So Ray J 👨🏾‍🦲 went straight 🔜💯 to the radio station 📻 the very next day 🔜📅 👨🏾‍🦲🗣🎙 "Hey 👋🏻 Fab 🧑🏾‍🦲, I'mma 🙋🏾‍♂️ kill you 🔪🧑🏾‍🦲" Lyrics 📝 coming at you 🗣🎙at supersonic 🌀 speed 🎶🏃🏼‍♂️💨 Uh 🤔 sama lamaa duma lamaa 🤔🤨 you 🧑🏻 assuming I'm a human 🧍🏼‍♂️ What I 🙋🏼‍♂️ gotta do 🤷🏼‍♂️❓ to get it through 🔜 to you 🧑🏻 I'm superhuman 🦸🏻‍♂️ Innovative 👷🏼‍♂️and I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ made of rubber 💪🏼 So that anything 🗯 you say 🗣 is ricocheting 💢 off of me 💁🏼‍♂️ and it'll glue to you 🙍🏻 I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ devastating 🌪🌋, more 📈than ever 📅 demonstrating 🧑🏼‍🏫 How to give 🤲🏻 a motherfuckin' audience 👨‍👩‍👦‍👦👩‍👩‍👧‍👧 a feeling 🧠 like it's levitating 🛫 Never 🚫 fading 🙅🏼‍♂️📉, and I know 💁🏼‍♂️ that the haters 😡🖕🏻 are forever ♾ waiting 😐⌚️For the day 📅 that they 🙎🏻‍♂️🙎🏻can say 🗣 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ fell off 📉, they'd 🧑🏻🙋🏻‍♂️ be celebrating 🥳🎉 ‘Cause I 🙋🏼‍♂️ know the way 🔜✅ to get 'em 🙎🏻🙎🏻‍♂️ motivated 🏃🏻💯‼️ I 🙋🏼‍♂️ make elevating 😇 music 🎶 , you 👉🏻🧑🏻 make elevator music 😴🎶 “Oh, he's 👱🏻‍♂️ too mainstream 📈” Well, that's what they do 🙎🏻🙎🏻‍♂️when they 🙎🏻‍♂️🙎🏻 get jealous 😤👿 they confuse 🤨⁉️ it 🗣🎙 It's not 🚫 hip hop 🗣🎙, it's pop 🎤👱🏻‍♀️, 'cause I 🙋🏼‍♂️ found 🔎 a hella way 🔥 to fuse it 🎙➕🎤 ➕ With rock 👨🏻‍🎤🎸, shock rap 😧🗣🎙 with Doc 👨🏿‍🦲 Throw on Lose Yourself 💽🔥 and make 'em 🌎 lose it 🤯 “I 🙋🏻‍♂️ don't know 🤷🏻‍♂️ how to make songs 🎶💿 like that 👉🏻👱🏻‍♂️, I don't know 🤷🏻‍♂️ what words 📝 to use 🗣🎙” Let me 🙋🏼‍♂️ know when it occurs 💡 to you 🙎🏻‍♂️ While I'm 💁🏼‍♂️ ripping any one ☝🏻of these verses 📝 that versus 🆚 you 🙋🏻‍♂️, It's curtains 😴, I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️ inadvertently hurtin' 😫 you 🙎🏻‍♂️ How many ❓verses 📝 I 🙋🏼‍♂️ gotta murder 🔪 to Prove ✅that if you 🙎🏻‍♂️were half 1️⃣➗2️⃣ as nice 🙂, your songs 🎶 you 🙎🏻‍♂️can sacrifice 🔥👹 virgins too, uh 😠! School 🏫 flunkie ❎, pill 💊 junky 🧟‍♂️, But look 👀 at the accolades 🥇🏆🏅 the skills 👷🏼‍♂️ brung me 🙋🏼‍♂️🔝Full of myself 🤷🏼‍♂️, but still hungry 😋🍽 I bully myself 🙎🏼‍♂️🖕🏻🙍🏼‍♂️ cause I 🙋🏼‍♂️ make me 👱🏻‍♂️ do what I 🙋🏼‍♂️ put my mind 🧠 to And I'm 🙋🏼‍♂️a million leagues 💯 above you 📈, ill 🤒 when I 🙋🏼‍♂️ speak in tongues 🗣🎙 But it's still tongue 👅 in cheek 😉, fuck you🖕🏻 I'm drunk 🥴 so Satan 👹 take the fucking wheel 🚗 , I'm asleep 😴 in the front seat 💺 Bumping 🔊 Heavy D and the Boys 🔥 Still chunky 🤨 but funky 🎶 But in my 🙋🏼‍♂️ head 🧠 there's something 🤔 I can feel tugging and struggling 😖 Angels 👼😇 fight with devils 👹👺 and, here's what ‼️ they want from me 🙍🏼‍♂️ They’re 👹👼 asking me 👱🏻‍♂️ to eliminate ❌ some 📊 of the women 🙎🏼‍♀️ hate 😠🖕🏻But if you 👉🏻 take into consideration 🤔 the bitter 😡 hatred 🤬 I have 🙋🏼‍♂️Then you may 🤷🏼‍♂️ be a little 🤏🏻 patient 🙇🏻 and more sympathetic 😕 to the situation 🙍🏼‍♂️ And understand 💡 the discrimination🖕🏻👩🏼‍🦰 But fuck it 🤷🏼‍♂️🖕🏻, life's handing you lemons 🍋? make lemonade 🥤 then ‼️ But if I 🙋🏼‍♂️ can't 🙅🏼‍♂️ batter 🤜🏻 the women 👱🏻‍♀️, how the fuck 🤔 am I 🙋🏼‍♂️ supposed to bake 👨🏼‍🍳🔥 them 👩🏼 a cake 🎂 then? Don't 🙅🏼‍♂️ mistake 🔀 it 🙋🏼‍♂️ for Satan 👹. It's a fatal ☠️ mistake if you 👉🏻 think 🤔💭 I 🙋🏼‍♂️need to be overseas 🌊🚢 And take a vacation 🏝🏖 to trip 🦵🏻🏃🏼‍♀️a broad 👱🏻‍♀️, And make her 🙎🏼‍♀️ fall on her face 🙍🏼‍♀️ And don't 🙅🏼‍♂️ be a retard 🤪🥴, Be a king 🤴🏼? Think 🤔 not 🙅🏼‍♂️, why be a king 👑❓when you 🙋🏼‍♂️ can be a God 🙋🏼‍♂️?

Submitted May 11, 2020 at 10:26AM by blueberry_five via reddit https://ift.tt/3cjnLNs

[ausaplenty]

This is my choice

Kiara Scuro. Will Croft. Captain America.

Kiara snarled as the Hydra guard pulled her to a stop, her hands bound in front of her. Schmidt stood silhouetted against the massive window that overlooked the snow-covered mountain side as he examined her shield.

“Arrogance may not be a uniquely American trait, but I must say, you exemplify it extremely well,” he gloated, leaving her symbol and coming to stand before her. “There are limits to what even you can do, Captain America, or did Eskrine tell you otherwise?”

She glared at him “He told me that you were insane.”

“Ah,” Schmidt hissed. “He resented my genius and tried to deny me what was rightfully mine. But you … You, he gave everything to. What makes you so special?”

“Nothin’” Kiara retorted, a smirk spreading across her face. “I’m just a kid from Brooklyn.”

There was an explosion of pain as Schmidt’s fist collided with her face. She winced as the back of his hand crossed her cheek and then gasped when he punched her gut, She collapsed to her knees, glaring up at him.

“I can do this all day,” she said, spitting blood at his feet.

He stepped back, repulsed and angry, and drew his pistol from the holster at his side. His aim never wavered as he pointed the gun at her head, the blue glow reflecting on the metal. “I’m sure you could, captain, but unfortunately, I’m on a tight schedule.”

“So am I,” Kiara retorted, glancing at the window where a quartet of bodies were fast approaching.

Schmidt followed her gaze, whirling as the glass shattered and the Howling Commandos broke through.

Her soldiers were firing before their feet touched the ground, shooting the Hydra agents that surrounded Kiara.

Swiftly, the blonde locked her fists together and dealt a swinging uppercut blow to the man on her right. Her other guard was next, his nose breaking with a satisfying crunch. The sound of metal snapping as Kiara broke her bonds was even more so invigorating.

Schmidt fired, hitting one of the soldiers who had been part of the second wave. His face contorted into rage as he realized he’d fallen into a trap and he raced off through the twisting corridors.

“Captain, you’ll be wanting this,” Falsworth yelled, throwing her shield.

“Thanks!” Kiara’s hand snapped up, catching it by the edge - It hurt less when somebody with less strength than her was wielding it - and used it to ram a Hydra agent against a pillar.

“Go get ‘em, Cap!” Dugan howled, picking up one of the cannons and firing it into the wall.

The blonde raced after Schmidt, her footfalls echoing in the metal corridors. She heard a charging hiss and threw herself against the wall as flames filled the halls.

Three shots rang out and the familiar sound of a body reached ears. Will ran toward her, his rifle slung over his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” the raven-haired man asked, rapidly checking for injuries.

“You’re late,” Kiara reprimanded lightly. She met his warm hazel eyes and spontaneously pulled him down for a kiss. He stilled for a moment, taken aback, before returning it. When she pulled away, he blinked dazedly. “I didn’t want to leave without finding out what that was like.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but you have a plane to catch, Kiara,” he said reluctantly. “We’ll talk about us later.”

Kiara disappeared into the shadows, following the corridor until she looked out and saw a large airplane. The engine was roaring as the plane taxied toward the cliff.. With a curse, she slipped onto the aircraft and emerged from the darkness in the bomb bay.

A Hydra agent saw her and started to warn somebody in German before Kiara shot him.

The blonde moved in and out of the shadow, attacking the soldiers before they could hurt her or climb into the smaller planes, each with a city name stenciled pristinely on their side.

Silence overtook the bay after a few minute, not even disturbed by moans of pain as Kiara crept toward the cockpit with her shield in front of her. She slammed her fist against the console and crouched behind her defense.

She stared into the empty room, confused, beside cautiously stepping through. A chamber at the center pulsed with the eerie blue light she’d come to associate with Hydra’s weapons and the blonde peered down at the glowing cube inside.

A slight noise caught her attention and she whirled, protecting her head with her shield as a blue beam struck it.

“You don’t give up, do you?” Schmidt asked, stepping out from a column with his pistol pointed at her.

“Nope,” Kiara retorted, fighting against a stream of continuous blast to advance.

She charged, using her shield as a club to bludgeon Schmidt, and knocked the gun from his grasp..

He stumbled back and caught the disk when she tried to hit him again, wresting it from her grasp. He shoved her against the chamber, holding her down with the shield.

Kiara slammed her armor plated helmet against his skull, a sharp smile on her face as she retrieved her shield.

The plane pitched down, a screeching alarm blaring as they lost altitude. Shadows anchored the blonde to the ground, but she laid down to avoid the sudden shift while Schmidt slammed against the ceiling.

He crawled down to the cockpit, struggling against the wind, and turned autopilot on. His hand was clenched on the chair while the plane corrected itself.

Kiara scrambled to her feet when the aircraft was steady again and Schmidt pulled a pistol from the small of his back.

“You could have the power of the gods,” he taunted, firing.

She dodged, seeking cover behind a column.

“Instead, you wear a flag on your chest and think you fight a battle of nations,” Schmidt continued, shooting as Kiara ran to the next column. “I have seen the future, captain. There are no flags.”

“Not my future!” The blonde proclaimed, launching her shield at him. It hit him, knocking him back, then split open the chamber holding the cube. The air crackled with power.

“What have you done?” The nazi growled as he picked up the device. The light radiated brighter, illuminating his face, as sparks flew to create an orb.

Kiara watched, awestruck, as the space was transformed. No longer was it a flying hull of metal, but a vast galaxy with stars that shone brightly. Her expression quickly turned to horror when the light traveled up the length of his arm, burning through his body.

Schmidt screamed in pain as it canvased his frame, feeding a beam that shot to the sky.

The blonde shielded her gaze as the light pulsated and disappeared - the galaxy with it - the cube rested on the iron grate for a second before it ate through the metal and dropped down through each layer of the plane.

She stared at the hole it left while she bent to retrieve her shield.

Kiara peered at the navigation unit. They were nearing New York fast and these bombs were volatile. She looked out at the clouds that surrounded her and a sense of peace washed over her. She knew what she had to do.

She grabbed the radio.

“Come in. This is Captain Scuro. Do you read me?” she demanded, praying that they had managed to take control of the base.

“Captain America, what is you-” Morita began.

“Kiara, is that you? Are you alright?” Will’s voice broke through.

“Will, it’s me - Listen, Schmidt’s dead.”

“What about the plane?” the Englishman demanded, his voice slightly frantic.

“That’s a little bit tougher to explain,” Kiara said shakily.

“Give me your coordinates, and I’ll find you a safe space to land.”

“There’s not going to be a safe landing,” she told him, glancing at the monitor. All eight bombs were intact. “But I can try and force it down.”

“I’ll get Howard on the line. He’ll know what to do,” Will insisted.

“There’s not enough time, Will, this bird is going too fast and it’s heading for New York,” Kiara explained, gazing out in front of her. There was nothing around for miles. “I’m gonna put it in the water.”

“Please, don’t do this,” he pleaded. “We can figure this out. We have time.”

“Will, right now, I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait too soon, a lot people are going to die. I can’t leave this plane until it’s down.” She was calmer than she had been since Alexa’s death. “Will, this is my choice.”

There was silence on the other end. The blonde dug into her pocket, removing a picture from its depths. She smoothed it out and set the photo of her and Alexa, leaning against each other with smiles of their face, on the console.

With a deep breath, she guided the plane into a plunge.

“Will?” she asked quietly.

“I’m here, Kiara,” the raven-haired man answered quickly.

“When this is all over, do you want to go dancing?” the blonde proposed. “I’ve still never been dancing.”

He chuckled, the sound trembling. “Alright. I’ll meet you next Saturday, at the Stork Club.”

“You got it,” she promised. She broke through the clouds, the edge of a glacier visible as the ocean lapped against it. The water reminded of her of Alexa’s eyes.

“8 o’clock on the dot, and you better not be late,” Will said gently. “You have no excuse. Understood?”

“It’s a date,” she assured him.

Kiara closed her eyes, and thought of Lexie’s smile.