#made me do this...cause we were discussing about her a while agon

[imjulia-andilikecats]

"CORIANE WAS 16 WHEN SHE MARRIED TIBE, GOT TORMENTED BY ELARA WITH NIGHTMARES THAT CAUSED HER 3 MISCARRIAGES, TIBE NOT NOTICING HIS WIFE'S DETERIORATING HEALTH, LEAVING HER MOST OF THE TIME WITH THEIR ONLY SON, THE SUN OF HER LIFE, CAL. WHICH SHE FOUGHT HARD NOT TO LET HER CHILD FOLLOW IN HIS FATHER'S FOOTSTEPS. THEN ONLY AT 23, WHEN SHE LAY DYING IN A TUB FILLED WITH GRIEF, NIGHTMARES, PARANOIA. LEAVING BEHIND CAL, WHO WAS BARELY A YEAR OLD AND HER DIARY THAT ELARA BURNED TO ASHES."

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 3

Summary: While his bride is exacting her plans from the very first day in Little Palace, the Darkling finds he has a soft spot for the enemy.

Warnings: sexual references, swearing, angst

Part one // Part two

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

The last thing Y/N expected upon waking up was to wake up alone. Spreading out in the bed, she huffed a loose strand of her hair off her face. Narrowing her eyes, she stared up at the canopy with her wicked husband on her mind.

After the way he had acted the night before, she found herself wondering what game he’s playing. They were meant to be married in paper only, yet he seems to have a possessive streak that extends to her as well. A part of her wasn’t sure if he truly had a shred of decency within considering he didn’t take advantage of their marital status, but the other part of her wasn’t easily swayed. That part of her remained defiant as it was forged in a fire the Darkling set. Intentionally or not, his actions have damaged her before they ever even met and she wasn’t very forgiving.

Opening the door, unannounced, strolled in the most beautiful woman Y/N had ever seen. Her long, auburn hair was perfectly styled and framed her face without obscuring an inch of her stunning beauty.

Genya, she realized. Even on the other side of the fold, Y/N knew of the empresses’ tailor.

Large, amber eyes fix on Y/N who slowly sat up. She stared at Genya without shame, admiring her appearance.

“Well, from what the general told me, I expected I’d have more work on my hands.” Genya huffs, her hands on her hips as her lips form a thin line.

“I have nothing wrong with me”, Y/N defends, graciously getting out of the bed that was far too comfy considering who she shared it with. “And where is the general?” Raising her eyebrow, Y/N folded her arms. No matter where he disappeared to, she couldn’t let him wander too far in case he tries to break their agreement and attend a meeting alone.

Humming, Genya didn’t try to hide her curiosity as she looked Y/N up and down. “Are you sure you don’t need my services?”

Glancing at the door, Y/N saw the servants waiting in front for a command. “Leave us”, Y/N waves them off, swiftly closing the door behind them. Her eyes settle on a seemingly startled Genya who cocks her head to the side.

“Interesting. So you do need me?”

Inhaling deeply, Y/N nods. Coming closer, her eyes remain on Genya’s whose gaze drifts at first. Once Y/N stopped before her, their eyes met.

“I need you, but not as a tailor.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Genya steps back. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N licked her lips. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you hate the emperor and you’d do anything to make sure he never lays a hand on you?”

Genya’s nostrils flare, her lips drawing back between her pearly whites. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m loyal to my emperor.”

“I know”, Y/N reaches for her hand, “I’m saying if your loyalties shifted, I’d make sure that fat fuck died in agonizing pain.”

Yanking her hand out of Y/N’s reach, Genya stepped back with wide eyes.

Gnawing on the inside of her bottom lip, Y/N wished she was more tactful. Hearing of Genya and her fate, she assumed she’d gladly ally with her in this fight. Not only does she need Genya on her side to fight against Kirigan, but the emperor as well. Genya would have been an ideal ally if only she was willing to hear her out. But she should have waited, befriended the Grisha. She should have been more tactful.

“Does the general know of the treasonous plans you speak of?”

Chuckling in disbelief, Y/N shakes her head, “Do you truly believe I’d be breathing if he did?”

Pursing her lips, Genya turned her back on Y/N, contemplating all the possibilities that could stem from her decision.

“It’s a lot, I know, but I am here with a few secrets of my own.” Y/N takes a step closer, her hand clasping Genya’s shoulder as a show of support. “I realize you barely know me, but we can change that now.”

“How?” Genya whispers, more to herself than Y/N who released a shaky sigh.

“By revealing a secret that would be lethal for me if you shared it with anyone.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Genya’s eyes narrowed at Y/N who felt genuine, more than anyone had been since the day she arrived in the Palace. Despite the initial mistrust, Genya nods.

The guards stationed outside of Y/N’s room only heard a loud gasp behind closed doors, unaware that very gasp was a start of a friendship that would define Ravka’s future.

Meanwhile, the Darkling had spent the morning out in the fields. Riding his favorite horse usually served as a way to distract his mind from ongoing worries, but it had no such effect today. No amount of speed or distance could possibly erase the feeling of Y/N’s hand on his body, much less of her body pressing against him.

He behaved as a pious man, an honorable gentleman with self-restrain of a saint. If he could, he’d have taken her without regrets, but he never crossed that line and doing so with a woman meant to be his wife would set him on a path of no return – of true evil.

The Darkling may have done some heinous things, but they were never without reason. If he had done anything against her wishes, he’d be beyond redemption and he couldn’t help but grit his teeth every time he imagined himself losing his mind around her long enough for her to turn him into the villain she sees him as.

Another thing he’s decided to do is break the rule he knew she expected him to uphold – sleeping in separate chambers was the worst thing for them now. He had to be in her bed every night, regardless if she wanted to let him between her legs or not. He wouldn’t force her, that much would be true, but he wouldn’t sleep in his own room anymore. The room they were given last night would be the one he goes to, stumbles to, crawls to, in order to fall asleep beside her. And though it’s a risk as he could easily find himself with his throat cut, he refused to back down.

Dismounting, he headed to the map room where his subordinates waited for further instructions regarding the war.  

“Shall we start?” The Darkling tossed his riding gloves on the desk as he looked at his people. A new face caught his attention, making him do a double take until his dark skies narrowed at her.

“Now that you’ve arrived”, Y/N stands, smiling sweetly. “I believe we can present to you what we’ve discussed while you were off on a joy ride.”

There’s nothing sweet about her, Darkling realizes. Even her smile is coated in honey but laced with poison.

 He licked his lips, “Well, if you want my opinion-“

“I don’t”, she stood her ground, “I have my own.”

Chuckling darkly, he leans forth on the table. His nostrils are flared, his hands gripping the edges until his knuckles turn white. “And what exactly is that?”

“We agreed on having the First army general having a vote in the decision making process as you all do, and since I’m his proxy, I’ve decided you will no longer use humans as canon meat.”

Gliding the tip of his tongue over the inner side of his teeth, he stared at Y/N as if she were made of glass he had every intention on shattering. That would be a mistake – glass is only brittle until it breaks, the shards can cause more damage.

“We will train Grisha to protect humans and humans will use their weapons to protect the Grisha in a more effective manner with the emperor’s gold.”

“Gold?” Kirigan says through gritted teeth as she approaches him, her hands behind her back and he has no doubts she’s stashed a weapon in them and the blue kefta she wore. He’d tell her to take it off and never wear one since she’s but a human, yet as his wife, she was entitled to a kefta. Besides, she looked like a dream in one.

“The emperor agreed to fund the First army’s armory during breakfast”, she smirks, lifting her head up to maintain eye contact.

“Get out”, he grumbles.

Raising her eyebrow, she giggles, “Are you that incapable of admitting I may have opinions and capabilities with potential to do better than the ones you brought before the emperor?” Hardening her gaze, she cups his cheek so tenderly he felt a shiver run down his back. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

“GET OUT!” He turns to the others, watching them scramble to leave before he unleashes the darkness everyone feared. Once the last one left, the door slamming behind them, Kirigan locked his eyes on hers.

“Don’t ever try to get inside my head”, he snarled, slamming her against the door. As his heartbeat echoed in his ears, they stayed there with his grip crushing her wrists, keeping them pinned to the wall.

She didn’t breathe, trying to guess his next move. There was a risk she’d push him over the edge and she quite liked herself in one piece, so she waited – waited for him to move first despite the aching pain in her wrists. Releasing a shuddered breath, her chest deflates.

Finally, his eyes soften as he realizes he might have scared her and while he’d usually triumph, he found no satisfaction in being rough with her. He imagined himself releasing her from his grip, cupping her cheeks and asking for forgiveness, but the way she refused to blink made him unsteady. Yet he whispered still, “It’s too dark for you.”

Squinting, Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line. She easily breaks out of his grasp, shoving him against the wall with her forearm on his chest. Trailing her hand lazily towards his neck, she tightens her grip, lightly choking him. Pulling him down, she stands on her tiptoes as well. Leaning in, her lips brush against his ear; whispering, "Darling, you may wield darkness but you don't know the meaning of dark."

Stepping away, she raised her chin defiantly and he wished he could grasp it and pull her lips to his until her jaw relented and her mouth opened for his. And that’s when he realized – why would he hold back?

Her eyes drifted up to his and she knew his resolve was gone. His lips captured hers in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. There was something gentle about it, regardless of the brute strength he used to push her into the door. She felt the door rattle against her back as he shifted, pressing her into it, taking her face between his hands.

When he kissed her, she felt as if she were losing his mind. She couldn’t comprehend why her hand wasn’t holding her dagger at his neck, or why she allowed herself to moan into the kiss as if he had brought her pleasure.

Every thought she once had evaporated as the darkness of lust drew her in, bending all her rules, stealing the last trembling bit of restraint. She tries to pull away, to stand firm and turn away his affection if she could call it that.

“No”, he whispers, bringing her lips back to his.

And when he kissed her again, she wasn’t sure she wanted her sanity back. She slid her hands under his kefta, wrapping arms around him to press him closer. The low groan at the back of his throat, a small, pleading noise set every inch of her skin on fire.

Opening her eyes, they widen as she notes his are closed as he lost himself in their passionate exchange. A single intelligent thought formed inside her mind, sparking others to appear as well. Playing with fire is her favorite hobby, but this wasn’t a game – not when she was losing.

Pushing against him with all her might, Y/N gasped for breath as he stumbled back. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she narrowed her eyes at him. Lifting her chin, Y/N met his gaze decidedly. After all, she couldn’t avoid her marital duty if she allowed him to kiss her like that. He may not be an old, unattractive, undeveloped man she had imagined in her mind, but Y/N still wasn’t quite keen on giving herself to him. She had kept her maidenhood all those years only to lose it to a man who shall never be more to her than a husband in name only. She’d never love him…she promised herself that. She never broke a promise before and he would not be the one who changes that.

“Don’t touch me”, she spoke through clenched teeth.

He looked at her in surprise. There was hatred in her enchantingly cold eyes, her cheeks flushed red. If possible, her anger made her even more beautiful. Never had he felt such a raging desire.

His hand went around her neck, his thumb digging into the soft flesh. “You are my wife,” he said in a low voice. “You are mine!”

“I believe we have already covered that. I’m not yours and I never will be.” Y/N told him with such spite, such determination that he let her go immediately.

“You’re untouched, aren’t you?” Darkling’s voice softened, his eyes holding more understanding than she liked. Had he acted unreasonably and taken her against her will the night before or now, she’d at least be right about his horrid heart and vile mind…but he didn’t. Instead of being a savage she imaged him to be, he offered her gentle understanding.

“I’m sorry I was rough. I’ll try and be gentler. If you don’t want to go through with this, I won’t force you.” Running a hand across his face, he leaned back on the table. “I want you…really fucking bad, but I won’t take you against your will.” The Darkling sighed as she stared at him with her doe eyes, seeing confusion pass her features.

“Good to know where you draw your line. Murder – good, rape – bad.”

Rolling his eyes, he squinted as he looked at her again, “We can’t sacrifice Grisha for your men.”

Knitting her eyebrows, Y/N could hardly believe he just forgot the kiss they shared. In seconds, he crossed his arms and the lustful look was gone. The man before her was a general once more, and though he tried to hide it, he was still a man who had a hard-on despite the subject change. She wished she could ignore the evidence his blood is still boiling for a touch, more so because he was fucking right – he wasn’t small at all.

“If you keep wasting human lives, we will stop defending yours entirely.”

Raising an eyebrow, his face hardened, “We’ll kill you.”

Scoffing, she raises her eyebrow to mimic him. “It’s you or Volcra or the Druskelle and Fjerdans or Shu. We end up dying either way.” Stepping closer, she folded her hands behind her back. “We can work together and lessen our losses or you can do it your way and have a massacre instead.”

In less than a minute, her eyes turned from ice to flame and he found himself captivated by the change.

“I’ll agree on one condition.”

His gaze roamed over her as if he is unable to fully comprehend her beauty. Only when he looked back at her eyes did he see she was troubled. Was that expression fear? The possibility struck him as so humorous he nearly laughed out loud.

“State your terms”, she snapped, refusing to concede when she’s close enough to do something she’s wanted for years – to protect the soldiers used as a shield for those who are perfectly capable of protecting themselves.

“I plan on getting to know you better”, he leaned in closer. He raised his hand, cupping her cheek just as he imagined – tenderly, enough to show dominance but not quite capable of harming her. “If you let me.”

Heart fluttering inside her chest had made her doubt herself. She stared at him, stubborn and unrelenting. “I’m still not sleeping with you.”

Chuckling, Kirigan drops his hand, noticing her relax as he steps back. With a tightness in his chest, he looked back at his wife, so small, so alone and still so fierce. He would never admit it, but he had already a sliver of love for her and knowing she did not had hurt him.

His smile falls and he nods. Clearing his throat, “How about we go for a ride in a few days?” He took her hand in his and gave her a gentle squeeze, looking up at her weary eyes.

“Does that mean I have the bed all to myself?” Raising her eyebrows expectantly, she squeezed his hands right back, as bold as ever. Genya seemed to trust him, yet Y/N couldn’t understand why. He’s too charming to be trustworthy.

Using his grip on her hand as an advantage, he tugged her closer to him and she found herself between his legs as he remained, leaning against the table behind him. His eyes flicker to her lips, “Better find more pillows, my wife. We wouldn’t want you to be the big spoon again, would we?”

With that, he turned them so swiftly, she had barely blinked as he pulled her up on the table and she gasped in surprise. Heart beating fast, she nearly gripped his kefta and claimed his lips, but he leaned in on his own accord and she had no need for brutish behavior.

The tip of his nose brushes hers and just as she begins to lean in, he takes a step back. Winking, he takes another step back.

“If you want a taste, you’ll have to ask.”

Watching his retreating figure in shock, she remained perched on the table with her mouth open and her eyes wide.

Covering her mouth, Y/N shakes her head. Her mind was right, the heart cannot be trusted.

Tags: @bruxa0007 @rangotangomango @kaitlyn2907 @thestoryofmylife9​ @shelivesindaydreamswme @hxrgreeves @safetyhtom @kaqua @savannah-elliott @all-art-is-quite-useless  @azure23x​ 

PART 4

[its-me-im-coraline]

A push to the right direction // Victoria De Angelis

words // 1241

warnings // maybe a little cursing, was meant to be a little angsty but I don't think i succeeded in that

pairing // Victoria De Angelis x GN!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. again, for the millionth time, don't forget that sundays will be for "sleepovers" from now on, so I can have a bit of a break and still give you guys something so yay. also this originally was supposed to be out yesterday but toothace and all I could barely function at all sooooo yeah. I hope you enjoy the little beach vibes and locked in car scenrio 😂

request // yes, it was through messages by @tabi-toast so i'm putting it here

"I’d like to request some friends to lovers with Vic where the boys notice that they like each other and try to push them towards each other? Maybe some angst but mostly lots of fluff hehehe"

summary // Victoria and reader have been friends for a while, both harboring unspoken feelings. While the two are oblivious beyond their minds the boys of the band have figured out all the glances and sublte touches the two share. Well, all they need is a little push to see the truth.

It was simply agonizing. The way the two looked at each other lovingly, staring with adoration every time they were sure they would not get caught, the way they spoke of each other, constantly using the fondest of words… They were both suffering from the unspoken feelings, the constant emotion of (non existent, really) rejection making the bad days harder and the good days bad, taking away from the most important moments they shared. The friends they shared were surely close to taking off, not wanting to see the constant pinning and insecurities that come with it.

The pair tended to be so oblivious to the obvious. Writing off indications of romantic feelings as plain signs of the comfort they had with each other. The hugs, the cuddles, the hair petting, all the pet names, the spontaneous 1 am singing competitions in the car while driving to find some food. They wrote it off as plain and simple platonic affection.

But, after, as the times passed by and the two would not seem to understand the feelings they shared, they would each go to a different member, complaining and even crying about the lack of reciprocation.

“How can you know that, Y/N? You haven’t even told her!”

“Well, I know her! She doesn’t want me Thomas!”

A similar scenarios would apply to Victoria sharing her feelings. They were both so blinded by fear of losing each other that they were blind to the truth. But everyone with eyes was not. Everyone, even people that had never met them before, could see that they were dying to be together, sometimes even assuming that they are… But that only ever resulted in awkward denying and later crying over the non existent rejection.

Currently they were laying on a towel at the beach, cuddled up together while relaxing with the last sun rays of the day and the soft sound of waves. The entire group had decided that a beach day was long overdue, the pool just simply not satisfactory enough. It was not the same to be by the sea, with the waves and the beautiful view, and being by a pool with the superficial lights and all (not that they could really complain).

“So, you mean to tell me that it actually happened?!” Yelled Y/N, laughing at yet another story Victoria shared with them.

“It did! I swear!” Victoria laughed back, caressing Y/N’s back softly as they both laughed.

“Well you need to take me with you next time you visit that place again. Who knows? Maybe another incident like that will happen.”

“I surely will,” she said, leaving a soft kiss on their heads.

“Are you feeling tired, amore?”

“Maybe a little… I had a long day…”

“You can take a nap on me if you need to. I’ll wake you up before Thomas and Damiano go to get us food.”

“I suppose I could,” they responded and settled in for a small nap.

The rest of Måneskin simply stared at the pair while discussing how exactly they were not one. It seemed so obvious to them how they had strong feelings, undeniable ones at that, and they could not stand and watch. Something had to happen.

So they came up with a devious plan. It would piss off Victoria a bit but it would bring the results they needed. Damiano walked to the car they came in, thanking technology with all of his might, in his head, remembering how his car has child-proofing mechanisms at the doors so they can only open from the outside. Thus the plan was in action.

After coming back he simply settled down, going back to doing his own thing - whatever he was doing before and waiting until it was time to move forward with it.

“Agh, I’m starving! When are you guys going for the food?”

“Me too.” Thomas stated before settling back in his chair for a moment.

“Hey, Vic!” He almost yelled, the woman flinching and checking to see if he woke Y/N up.

“What is it Thomas?” her voice was sharp, body quickly moving to walk up to him, making sure to not disturb her crushe’s nap.

“Can you and Y/N go for the food? Honestly I am bored, Damiano said he’s not coming and Ethan is too preoccupied right now.” He pouted and everything, giving the older girl the softest look he could possibly manage, while pointing at Ethan having a phone call.

“Couldn’t you have thought of that before? Seriously, Thomas, right now? They are sleeping.”

“Oh, come on Vic, please! I’ll owe you!”

“Agh, agh, fine, let me wake them,” she paused,”you’re lucky I’m hungry or I would let all of you starve,” she mumbled, annoyed by the boys’ laziness, before going over to the sleeping figure on the towel.

“Hey, amore… come on, sweets, wake up. Hey. Hey,” she repeated softly, a sweet smile on her face as their eyes opened slowly.

“Vic? Oh, are the guys going for the food?”

“Not quite. The guys are being annoying and refuse to go. So, if you want to eat we have to go.”

“Oh, alright then. Give me a moment to wake up,” they said and Victoria smoothed down their sea-salt stained t-shirt.

“Ethan, where are the keys?”

“On the engine, cucciola.”

“Ok, grazie.”

With that the two clueless friends sat in the car, Victoria realizing the keys were missing a little too late.

“Agh, cazzo, Ethan! They are not her- The door isn’t opening. Why is the door not opening?”

“Mine isn’t either.”

“Ethan!” Her voice could be heard crystal clear, even with the windows separating her from the outside.

“What is it, Victoria?” He asked, a smug smile on his face as he stood outside the car window.

“What did you do?”

“Well,” spoke Damiano, “you two clueless, little shits have gotten annoying. So if you are not going to do it, we will.” He stated and Victoria’s eyes almost went out of her head, catching onto what her friend was saying.

“Y/N, Victoria has feelings for you. Victoria, Y/N has feelings for you. Now talk!”

If only glare’s could kill, Ethan would be having a very painful death as Vic kept mumbling how she’ll kill him. Y/N, on the other hand, simply stared at Victoria in adoration.

“Do you have feelings for me?”

“Look Y/N, I-”

“Answer my question Victoria! Do you have feelings for me?”

“Yes,” she replied, looking down as if she was ashamed.

“That’s not how I wanted you to find out. I wasn’t really planning on telling you cause I know that Ethan is lying but-”

“Victoria! Take a breath between sentences! What are you talking about? Ethan is not lying, you know?”

“I know, Y/N, you don’t have to sugarco- Wait, what?”

“He isn’t lying, Victoria. I really like you.” “You do?”

“Mhm, I do. Now, will you give me a kiss or are you waiting for Ethan to smash our heads together,” they joked, easing up the tension Victoria was feeling and pushing their lips to hers.

It was not anything special, just a simple, soft, kiss. What made it special was that it was to each other. They shared a kiss together, not someone else, not a stranger, not someone they had no feelings for, but someone they were yearning for, for a very long time now.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever@tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina

[lady-of-lyon]

So, I made one post a while back about how awesomely feminist the show Wild Kratts was, with how its two main female characters were women of color in engineering and deserving roles of power, female villains who weren’t motivated by spite or quest for youth, etc, but today I wanted to talk about something slightly different, that I’ve wanted to cover for a while now, because I also think it’s very good - and that’s how the show portrays masculinity, in a way that’s really positive!

First, we have our two main characters, Chris and Martin Kratt. Keep in mind these two are basically self-inserts - and there are plenty of creators, especially males, who have used self-insert characters in really scummy ways - all I have to say is Powerpuff Girls reboot and you know exactly what I’m talking about. Even if they weren’t literal self-inserts, male characters, superheroes especially, oftentimes serve the male power fantasy, being just the strong, stoic, all-powerful person so many boys are told they’re supposed to be. I could get into a whole discussion about how the male power fantasy is present even when males are not (ever look through a fashion magazine and wonder why there are so few men? Sure, part of it is that the industry thrives off exploiting women’s insecurities, and men aren’t as concerned for their appearance, but another part of it is so that the guy, looking through it, can feel like he has no competition for these women - there’s a reason so many comedians have jokes about fashion magazines being their sexual awakening as kids. It’s really scummy) but that’s not what this is about. So, the bros had every opportunity to do just that - make themselves these traditional heroes who aren’t actually really good role models, like batman or what have you. It’s certainly not uncommon for celebrity cartoons to do stuff like that. But Martin and Chris chose a different approach. They’re pretty strong standouts for positive masculinity. They’re openly affectionate - both with eachother as brothers, and with their friends. They cry, sometimes over little things - most of the time when big superheroes cry, it’s ‘cause they lost the girl they loved or their mentor or something like that, only in the big, most agonizing moments do they shed a tear. But here, Chris or Martin will cry just because they’ve had a bad day, or because they’re overwhelmed and overjoyed that someone named a mantis after them! In a lot of shows or movies when a guy cries over something little, it’s usually played for laughs, or to emasculate him, but here it’s casual without being unreasonable or overdone. The brothers cry just ad much, maybe even more (haven’t gone back and counted or anything) as the girls do. Not to mention, it’s a very nice depiction of a loving, healthy sibling relationship. As the youngest sibling myself, it’s refreshing to see a pair who don’t abuse eachother with noogies or cruel and snarky remarks. When they do fight, it’s never a screaming match, and also because they had a conflict of interest or disagreed over a fact, not because, say, one of them stole the other’s shirt or is neglecting the other’s feelings. Kids, being very impressionable, get exposed to a lot of abusive sibling relationships played as normal in media, and start thinking this is how siblings are and should act. For instance, my sister (who is now my best friend and has gotten over all these bad habits over time) when she was younger watched a lot of Kim Possible, a show that is great, but has a bad family dynamic with Kim and her little siblings. The “tweebs” as she calls them are always irresponsible, destructive, and making Kim annoyed to no end. My older brother was one of the most polite, reserved, kind little kids, but she still treated him like he was a brat and a nuisance, because that’s what shows like Kim Possible taught her little brothers were. Additionally, I was always treated like a spoiled crybaby who just wanted attention and got away with everything - I was not any of those things, ever, but that’s what shows teach you little sisters are. Sure, Wild Kratts has a smidge of that, with Chris seemingly being the stereotype of the know-it-all little sibling, but instead of being constantly looked town upon for being too “perfect” like with Hailey Long in American Dragon, Martin often praises his brother for his abilities. Sure, Martin gets annoyed when Chris tries to correct him on things, like in the episode Wolf Hawks, but everyone else does too, so it feels more like a take-down of mansplaining than a sibling spat.

I talked too in the feminist post about how refreshing it is that Chris and Martin more or less willingly put themselves under the authority of Koki and Aviva, two women of color. I don’t think it’s possible to say any one character is the “leader,” they all work as a evenly balanced team, but it’s safe to say that Koki and Aviva make the more responsible decisions. The bros try to get out of their calls a few times, but the show plays it more like they’re being irresponsible, and less like they’re renegade cool dudes who don’t take nothing from nobody, especially not two girls. They are pretty much always punished via karma for their reckless choices, most especially in To Touch a Hummingbird, where their arrogant attitudes blow up in their faces rather spectacularly. We also never see the narrative most present in sitcoms, where the male leads mess up and go out of their way to cover it up and ultimately gets away with it - after all, you have to root for them, right, because sure they messed up and had no consequences, but aren’t they just so lovable? No, here Martin and Chris always have to fix their wrongdoing, and it’s always deserved when they get comeuppance. Another aspect of the show I like is that, many times, when the bros get captured or are in peril, they are saved by the women - and most refreshing of all, there’s never a moment of “wink wink nudge nudge wow I can’t believe I had to be rescued by a GIRL” or even “wow you saved me you’re pretty good honey guess I shouldn’t have underestimated you, you go girl!” No, when the girls save them, it’s just - you know, relief? Because they were saved? It’s never a scenario played as an exception, or any more dire than when the bros need to rescue eachother. The bros are genuinely happy to have them as teammates. The show even did the standard “boys vs girls” episode in the form of When Fish Fly - but instead of being actually girls vs. boys, it’s engineers vs. adventurers. There’s nothing really gendered about it - the girls happen to be engineers, and the boys happen to be adventurers. And the episode doesn’t end with the boys being “wow gosh darn I shouldn’t have doubted you girls are better at everything,” it’s a mutual agreement that both parties have hard jobs. Basically, the bros are very naturally respectful of women. That plays more into their feminist narrative too, but either way, it’s refreshing.

Then, we have Jimmy! Jimmy, the lovable gamerboy pizza man. At first glance Jimmy seems like the stereotypical cowardly, pathetic, emasculated loser. He’s frightened of most things, as of yet has no power suit, and he BAKES for crying out loud! But none of these things are framed as terribly bad traits. Sure, we laugh when he screams and runs from an animal, but though it happens over and over, the crew doesn’t get sick of it. They don’t berate him or belittle him because he’s so gosh darn cowardly. There’s a great scene in Rattlesnake Crystal where Jimmy has to deliver something to the bros alone, in the middle of a spooky desert. He is terrified the whole time, sprinting off after he delivers the goods. When Martin and Chris run into him, they don’t laugh at him for being spooked, they just greet and then bid fair well to their friend. To them, this is just Jimmy, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Jimmy isn’t coddled, but he is reassured many times that he’s a valuable member of the team. I love that little message, that you’re just as important of a person even if you can’t do as much or have greater limits. When his friends do try to get him over his fears, it’s not because they have to, that the day will somehow be ruined by Jimmy’s incompetence p, but because they’re his friends, and want him to experience fun and wonderful things that he would otherwise miss out on. But what Jimmy CAN do is just as important! Jimmy is a gamer, which in a lot of shows, is portrayed as a lazy, useless, mindless hobby. But here, because he plays video games, it makes him essential for piloting the ship and teleporting important items. There’s always the joke that video games improves your hand/eye coordination, but recent studies have shown it has much better effects. It can make you much better at keeping track of multiple moving objects and processing technical but variable information- two traits which, fittingly enough, are really really important for air traffic controllers and airplane pilots! He also demonstrates a lot more courage behind the wheel of the Tortuga, which makes sense - in an impersonal setting, he would have more sense of calm and control and courage, because it’s so similar to a video game world. It’s not all too different with how I feel more emboldened to pick fights with people on the internet, but get crazy anxious if a real person so much as looks at me. So Jimmy’s love of video games isn’t because he’s irresponsible, it has real benefits. A quick last point - Jimmy also eats a lot, but they thankfully don’t make him fat or greedy or anything like that. He never takes food from people, he actually bakes, and shares it with others! Having the baker be a boy is a lovely touch.

I might do another post about the toxic masculinity of the two villains, (or four villains, I guess, if I wanna discuss the minions) but I’ve got other work to do, and this post is long enough already, so I’ll get around to it later. I’ll sum it up with this - Wild Kratts is a show that teaches boys it’s not only ok to be kind, but essential. The brothers protect defenseless animals, advocate for things “icky” and “weird,” like bugs or snakes or worms - not because they’re boys, and boys like icky things, but because they genuinely see the beauty in all life, and are encouraging us to slow down and do the same. The Wild Kratts are heroes who save the world not by being the strongest or smartest or coolest, but by looking after those who are exploited and vulnerable, who are essential to the world, even if they can’t always do everything. In Wild Kratts the only weaknesses a man can have isn’t what he can’t do, but what he does do that he shouldn’t have. Sure, it’s a cute show about two funny guys who have cool powers, but it’s also a show about accountability, compassion, respect and trust. The show says “boys will be boys” in all the right ways - Martin is a lovable goof with a heart of gold, but he still has to get his act together when he messes up, and he’s still creative and smart and openly sensitive. Chris is a bit of a know-it-all show-off, but he can also mess up as much as his brother, and is still bold, brave, adventurous, and can put his money where his mouth is. Jimmy is a cowardly, napping, eating machine video-gamer, but he’s still a valued member of the team, has incredible skills and talents, and will always help his friends, even if he is really, really scared. It is so important to have role models like these, in a world dominated by unhealthy machismo. The Wild Kratts are heroes who save the world - both animated, and real.

All they need now is a canon queer character, and I’ll stan them forever! My money’s on Aviva!!

[kippykasey]

Grace - Chapter 5: Hydra

Pairing: Howard Stark x F!Reader , Bucky x Reader [Eventually]

Word Count: 3522

Series Summary: A young nurse is recruited by Dr. Abraham Erskine to join the SSR to assist on Project Rebirth. Following her work with the SSR she is drafted into the US Army Nurse Corps in the war against the Nazis...and HYDRA.

Chapter Warnings: violence, torture, bad things because Hydra

Author's Note: Surprise?! I wasn't even expecting to get this done but I literally just finished and thought, eh why not. So here it is! Also I hate hurting my characters so this was a bit eh to write but I hope all is well!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the gifs they are either found on google or under the gif tag provided by tumblr. Any language other than English was translated using Google Translator, and translations will be posted in bolden italics after. I am not a nurse or in the medical field although I may do some research medical treatment written may not be correct.

Grace Masterlist | Snowdrop Masterlist | Masterlist

Pain. A throbbing, harsh pain echoed through my head from the temple. The throbbing beat opposite that of my heart. The second thing I noticed was how cold and damp it was. After battling with my body to force open my eyes I squint through the dimly lit room. A deep voice spoke in another language… German it was German but my head hurt too much for me to understand it. Seconds passed before I realized that I was sitting on the ground in a cell. The door opened and two men walked in flanked by four additional soldiers than the one that had been watching me.

“Ah Fräulein (L/n) glad you have finally woken up.” Miss.

“Who are you?” I cursed how weak my voice sounded at that moment. Though the man didn’t seem to find me a threat of escape as he spoke. “Johann Schmidt. You see we have a common acquaintance… or, well, had.” The grin he wore made my stomach drop and he didn’t need to verbally admit it for me to realize this is the man behind Abraham’s death.

I raised my head in defiance and although it made the pounding in my head worsen I pushed myself from the ground and stood within the cell. “You’re after the serum.”

“Ah, clever girl. You were Abraham’s assistant when he made the serum.” The second, much shorter man spoke. “Fault in your plans. I don’t know how to make the serum.” Schmidt smiled at me and it took all my self control not to shiver from his intense look. “I was hoping you would say that,” His eyes turned off me to the soldiers. “Bring sie zum Stuhl. Probiere es an ihr aus. Vielleicht wird ein kleiner Elektroschock Ihr Gedächtnis auffrischen.” Take her to the chair. Try it out on her. Perhaps a bit of electroshock will refresh your memory. As Schmidt talked his head also turned towards the shorter man.

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I moved back against the wall. Three soldiers stepped towards the cell. One man opened the cell door before the other two stepped inside to detain me. I managed to elbow one in the face in my struggle but it was useless. The two soldiers dragged me from the cell, out of the room into a brighter lit hall. We were in some kind of warehouse. My eyes zeroed in on a chair that looked right out of a nightmare. Stronger hands forced me into the hard chair and held me down while I was struggling against someone’s attempts to strap me in. My struggling did nothing but get me a slap to the face. The strength of the slap disoriented me long enough for them to strap me in.

The shorter man who followed us now stood next to my head. I could see the reflection of myself in his glasses. “This is only going to hurt a lot, try to hold still.” He instructs lowering two plates down around my face. It was only a few short moments before the electricity forced its way into my head. I had no control over my body as it thrashed in the confines of the chair. An agonizing scream of pain carrying throughout the building went ignored.

That wasn’t my first time in the chair but it was the only time I had passed out in the chair. Spent 30 minutes in the chair 3 times a day, sometimes longer. After a week I had to start muttering things to myself in my cell so I didn’t forget who I was. The Nazi soldiers gave me the bare minimum to survive as far as water and nutrients goes. I cracked halfway through October. I gave the short scientist, Armin Zola, the list of what I would need before I was taken back to my cell after yet another time in the cell. I was given parchment and a pencil to write things down with but it kept coming in flashes.

Nights were the worst. Mouth dry from lack of water, eyes trained on an iron grate in the ceiling. I realized two weeks into my daily chair visits that I had forgotten my brother’s name. When I noticed it caused me to cry to sleep that night. So whenever I could I would mutter to myself facts I could remember starting with my name, rank, and where I was from. The list of facts got shorter every day. Somedays I remembered more than others. There were times all I could bring myself to do was hum Amazing Grace to myself to deal with the pain.

The first time I was in the lab I tried to escape. I was left with just one guard and I thought I could take him. I smashed a beaker using a shard like a knife. I ended up knocked unconscious, my hand bleeding from the self inflicted cuts caused by the makeshift weapon. From then on I was chained to the lab table and three soldiers kept watch. I wasn’t given anything to test the serum on. So I never tested unless I thought it would work because I used myself as a test subject.

I was unconscious for two days once from a failed serum. Others cause excruciating pain. Days came and went and I lost count of days but I knew it was still October. Yet a month was close to passing as November began to be discussed amongst soldiers around me. Pressure was placed on me to recreate the serum. Each day if I didn’t recreate the serum I was sent to the chair for the torturous electroshock. That is how I figured out I had been successful in a recreation. The serum, when tested, did nothing but make me drop to the lab floor in pain. I wasn’t even given time to recollect myself before being dragged off to the chair. I lasted longer in the chair than usual. I heard the instruction to increase the power. I don’t remember what happened after that.

It took me nearly half a day to recover, then as soon as I had I was back working in the lab. Suddenly I was pulled away from my work and escorted quickly back to my cell. “Neue Soldaten wurden gefangen genommen.” New soldiers have been captured. I pressed myself up against the bars for a chance, a glimpse at the soldiers being brought in.

It was silent as the Nazi Hydra soldiers dealt with the new poisoners. Suddenly two soldiers appeared with smiles on their faces. “Komm Mädchen. Zola und Schmidt wollen dich sehen.” Come girl. Zola and Schmidt want to see you. The soldiers yanked me up and practically dragged me to the room where the chair was. My body trembled involuntarily at the sight of the chair. It wasn’t me going in the chair, given someone was strapped in but given the uniform he was American. “Ah, here iz our lovely nurse. You’ve been asking for a test subject. Here you go.” Schmidt waved at the man strapped into the chair. The man lifted his head just barely and my heart went out to him. As soon as the hands left my arms I moved to the soldier in the chair. “What’s your name, soldier?”

“S’rg’nt Jam’s Barn’s,” His voice wasn’t clear but it was clear enough for me to understand what he said. The nurse turned to Zola and Schmidt. “I wasn’t done recreating the serum when you had me pulled from the lab. I will need time to work and he needs time to rest or the serum will kill him.” I tried to give him whatever comfort I could in those brief moments before we were pulled apart. His head rose just slightly and I caught a glimpse of stormy blue eyes as he was dragged out of the room.

I never got to return to my cell that night. As my eyes zoned in on the blue chemical mixture in front of me I felt a haze cloud my mind, it wasn’t abnormal to experience but I also felt like I was losing myself when it happened. Following my own written instructions I was able to continue my work. The only other thing I forced my mind to remember were two things.

I am First Lieutenant (Y/n) (L/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps. Soldier boy is Sergeant James Barnes.

The words became a mantra in the blank canvas my mind was currently in as I blindly worked by instructions of my very own that I don’t even remember writing. My body moved on auto pilot as I was taken to a crude looking examination room. In the center was soldier boy Sergeant James Barnes strapped to the table. As my mind raced to catch up with me, flashes of memories clouded my mind from when Steve Rogers got the serum, the explosion that followed, Dr. Erskine being shot. My body tensed at a passing memory of being in the chair passed through being replaced by the pain I felt giving myself the serum.

A hand pressed firmly in between my shoulder blades pushing me forward. I stumbled to the table catching myself with a hand on his arm. Wasn’t he wearing an army jacket before? My eyes landed on the serum filled syringe in my hands reminding me of what I was about to do. “First lieutenant (Y/n) (F/n) of the US Army Nurse Corps.. You are Sergeant James Barnes.. I’m sorry for what I am about to do. You’ll be okay. I’ve used it on myself. It will hurt.” My voice sounded so… robotic and monotone as I spoke to him. My hands pushing up his sleeve.

My hands worked from memory and out of second nature my mouth moved and the hymn fell from my lips. The melody of the song was the only comfort I could offer as I injected the poor man with the serum that would change his life forever. His eyes looked up at mine until the pain of the serum changing his body caused them to shut tightly. The leather restraints holding him in began to rip as he pulled against them. Discarding the empty syringe I tried to soothe him more but the second my hand touched his head I was shot with a sedative.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Steve Rogers has dressed up performing on stage like a dancing monkey to sell war bonds since he was given the serum. His first time on foreign grounds and he was performing for soldiers he should have been fighting alongside of. All to be booed off the stage by disgruntled men who just wanted to see a pretty dame.

Steve finally looked away from the rain but not quite at Peggy, “At least he’s got me doing this. Phillips would have had me stuck in a lab.” Blue eyes finally met the face of Agent Carter. “And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a dancing monkey? You were meant for more than this, you know.” Her wording might have been a bit rude but the point got across. There was a moment of silence between the two but Steve had this look to him. “What?” Peggy inquired.

The man was drawing in the rain when a familiar face popped up. “Hello, Steve.” Peggy Carter approached him from behind, making him turn from his drawing to greet her, “Hi.” She mimed his ‘hi’ back before laying her jacket down to sit on while Steve asked, “What are you doing here?” Peggy looked at Rogers and let out a small sigh, “Officially, I’m not here at all. That was quite a performance.”

Rogers looked away disappointed that she had caught the horrible show that happened earlier. “Yeah. I uh, I had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I’m used to are usually more, uh, twelve.” Steve explained looking out at the drenched ground and falling rain. “I understand you’re ‘America’s New Hope’.” Peggy states watching him. “Bond sales take a 10% bump in every state I visit.” Steve comments like a robot. “Is that Senator Brandt I hear?”

“You know for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines, serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted and I’m wearing tights.” Steve kept looking down at his journal then squinting out through the rain. A horn alarmed behind them as a medical vehicle slid to a stop in the mud. Medics ran from the infirmary tent to help unloaded soldiers on gurneys. “They look like they’ve been through hell.” Peggy turned back towards Rogers. “These men more than most.” Steve looked up at Peggy knowing she had more details. “Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men were there to back up an already injured fleet, they went up against him and less than 75 returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th and 34th.” Steve slowly turned his head feeling bad for the men who were lost but his attention snapped to Peggy at the mention of the divisions involved as she finished, “The rest were killed or captured.”

“The 107th?” The confirmation had him darting out into the rain, Peggy following holding her jacket over her head for coverage from the rain. The two ran all the way to the tent Colonel Phillips was sitting in signing condolence letters. “Colonel Phillips.” Steve called for the man’s attention as he approached. “Well, if it isn’t the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?” The colonel responded looking up at the pair now standing in front of him. “I need the casualty list from Azzano.” The tone he used was definitely fitting for the role he plays on stage. Phillips however did not appreciate it. “You don’t get to give me orders, son.”

“I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th.” Rogers responded un phased. Phillips pointed his pen at Peggy, “You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy.” Steve was insistent though and again requested the information he wanted, “Please tell me if he’s alive, sir. B-A-R..” “I can spell.” Phillips cut him off before muttering, “First Stark and now this.” He stood from the table and paged through the letters he just finished signing. “I have signed more of these condolence letters today that I would care to count. But the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry. To the both of you.” Phillips looks from Rogers to Peggy and the woman knew he was referring to her friend from the 34th.”

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?” Rogers was something else, optimistic maybe. “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.” The look of disbelief that Steve sent the colonel as he spoke might have been the first red flag for Peggy Carter. “But if you know where they are, why not at least..” Phillips once again cut the man off, “They’re 30 miles behind the lines through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe.” Phillips was eyeing the spot on the map as he talked about it, even pointing the place out directly. “We’d lose more men than we’d save. But I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl.”

The colonels' dig at Roger’s lack of status didn’t seem to phase the man but it did fuel the plan he was formulating in his head while staring at the map, memorizing it. “I think I understand just fine.”

“Well, then understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got someplace to be in 30 minutes.” The colonel walked past him giving Rogers a very clear view of the map marking out exactly where he needed to go, and where he was. “Yes, sir. I do.” Perhaps the time staring at the map was the second red flag that Peggy noticed. As her eyes flickered between him and the map as he left the tent it all clicked into place and she hurried after the taller man.

“What do you plan to do, walk to Austria?” Peg asked as she entered the tent used as the changing room. “If that’s what it takes.” Steve answered not looking up from where he was struggling with boots. “You heard the Colonel. Your friend, and mine, are most likely dead.”

“You don’t know that.” Steve disagreed as he continued to get ready. “Even so, he’s devising a strategy. If he detects..” Steve cut her off as he put on a brown leather jacket, “By the time he’s done that, it could be too late.” He snatched up his bag and shield and headed for the exit. “Steve!” Peggy called following him to the vehicle he tossed his things into. The rain had stopped leaving the sun to rapidly evaporate the water leaving puffs of smoke in the air. Steve looked at the brunette in front of him. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

“Every word.”

“Then you got to let me go.” Steve turned to get into the jeep and started the engine before Peggy was at the side. “I can do more than that.” She told him.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Peggy hadn’t lied. She got them a method of transport much faster than the jeep. Howard Stark sat in the pilot seat flying a plane with the slight chance his fiancée may still be alive. Stark was devastated when he first found out that the 34th was attacked and that only doubled when the attack at Azzano took out the 107th as well.

“The Hydra camp is in Krausberg, tucked between these two mountain ranges.” Peggy infomed Rogers as she pointed to the map she was holding. “It’s a factory of some kind.” She gave him as much information as she could. “We should be able to drop you right on the doorstep.” Howard called over his shoulder.

“Just get me as close as you can.” Steve called back up to the pilot. He looked back over at the woman in front of him. “You know.. You two are gonna be in a lot of trouble when you land.” He was worried about her getting into trouble for him but she looked at him just as worried. “And you won’t?” Steve dismissed her worries, turning his head. “Where I’m going, if anyone yells at me, I can just shoot them.” There was a small click of a loaded gun.

“They will undoubtedly shoot back.” Peggy surmised. Steve turned to the shield he had been using on stage giving it a knock, “Well let's hope it’s good for something.” Steve turned back to her just as Howard called back, “Agent Carter? If we’re not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue.” Howard was teasing the agent, the smile on his face hidden from those being him. Peggy shifted in her seat choosing to ignore him and keep conversation going with Rogers. “Stark is the best civilian pilot I’ve ever seen. He’s mad enough to brave this airspace. We’re lucky to have him.”

Steve however was still not fully over the comment Stark made. “So, are you two… do you…” There was an awkward pause as Steve thought of the proper way to ask if they were seeing each other by reusing Stark’s words, “..Fondue?” Stark tried not to laugh from the pilot’s seat as Peggy simply shook her head and handed him a device. “This is your transponder. Activate it when you’re ready and the signal will lead us straight to you.” Steve took a moment to look at the device now in his hand before calling up to Howard, “Are you sure this thing works?”

“It’s been tested more than you, pal.” Howard defended seconds before gunfire hit the side of the plane. The plane shook as bullets pelted the sides, shaking the aircraft from the force. Steve stood grabbing his shield and heading towards the door. That he opened. “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!” Peggy ordered yelling over the wind rushing into the plane. “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” Steve ordered back over the noise of the wind, gunfire, and the pinging of bullets on the plane.

“You can’t give me orders!” Peggy disagreed.

“The hell I can’t! I’m a Captain!” Steve looked over at her, giving her a smile that made her weak in the knees. He grabbed the goggles from his helmet, lowered them over his eyes and launched himself out of the plane. Peggy watched him fall towards the ground before the red fabric of his parachute was visible in the night sky from the flying bullets. Howard turned back as instructed by the Captain. Now all they could do was wait.

[corruptedcaps]

Penny Lame

This is a sequel to the absolute must read story from the fantastic Evie Hyde. Read it here first.

It had been a rough day for popular mean girl Paige. Her beautiful hair had been cut off without warning by Caz a girl in her class. It had been such a shock that poor Paige fainted right there in class. When she came to at home her parents explained what had happened and Paige broke down crying.

“Why would someone be so cruel to her?” She had sobbed. Her parents were worried about her. It was uncharacteristic for Paige to show such vulnerability. In fact her parents had always been somewhat scared of their cruel daughter. A daughter who held sway over her peers like a Queen bee. By the next morning she seemed like practically the opposite. She was now introverted, emotional and shy.

In fact Paige herself seemed to realize this about herself too and hated the person she once was. She quickly repressed everything that had made her such a feared bitch and purposefully started to forget everything she had once held so dear.

Fashion know how, makeup skills, sex appeal, manipulation techniques, all escaped her mind like waking from a dream. She even started going by her given name of Penny feeling it was more friendly, soft and non-threatening.

Her parents, fearing that is was only a matter of time before their mean daughter came back, seized this opportunity to send her to a different school, one that wouldn’t foster her cruel personality re-emerging. They sent her to Darkstar Finishing School for Young Women. Here she would learn proper manners and discipline. Without her bitchy attitude she would fall in line.

“Welcome to Darkstar Finishing School Penny, I hope your trip wasn’t too bad. I am the Principal here but please call me Chloe. You can leave you bag down here, you won’t be needing it until the end of the semester.” The kind Principal said when Penny arrived. As Paige she had always been standoffish with authority figures but she felt she could trust Chloe.

“But all my clothes are in there.” Penny said weakly protesting. In truth Penny only had slutty revealing clothes left and wasn’t feeling confident enough to wear them anymore.

“Here at Darkstar we provide a uniform for you to wear just like the other young women. When we all look the same, we all work the same and so we work together instead of against.” The Principal spoke as if rehearsed. It certainly was a change from Penny’s previous life where she was the top of the hierarchy.

“But what about my deodorant, lotion and shampoo?” Penny said suddenly realizing that maybe she would need somethings from her old life.

“Not to worry dear, again we provide everything so we all are equal here. Don’t worry you’ll love it here. I keep all your things safe right here in my quarters until the last class of the semester. Now you must be tired, let me show you to your room.” Chloe said leading Penny out.

Over the next few weeks Penny had to admit that she was enjoying the Darkstar life. It was kind of freeing to not have to worry about what to wear and then agonize over whether it was the right choice or not. She even made quick friends with some of the girls. They weren’t friends with her out of fear, they were friends with her because they liked her.

Even her teachers seemed nice and she felt engaged in class. She was actually learning instead of figuring out ways to blackmail her way to top grades.

However she had noticed she hadn’t seen the Principal since their first meeting. The other girls had told her that it was unusual not to see her roaming the halls each day. They told her that Chloe loved interacting with her students. Penny thought nothing more of it until during class one day she heard the unmistakable sound of high heels slowly approach.

It was highly unusual to hear that sound anywhere around campus as high heels were strictly forbidden but then again the woman that soon entered the room was a head to toe walking violation.

All the girls instantly knew it was their Principal but she had undergone a shocking transformation. She was wearing a tight black shirt that clung to her chest nearly exposing her now large breasts. Her incredibly thin waist was wrapped in an elegant black corset. Long black boots adorned her sleek legs giving the false impression she wasn’t showing as much skin as she actually was.

Her lips were set in a permanent sexy pout. Her previously short sensible brown hair was now blonde, long, thick and perfectly straight. She looked effortlessly hot and had an air of superior confidence she had previously lacked. Pairing this with the fact that the kindness seemed to have been drained from now her piercing eyes instilled fear in each of the girls sitting in the room. The 40 year old educator looked easily half her age.

Each step she took towards the front desk make loud almost deafening sounds. It helped that each girl in the room had become deathly silent, unable to believe what they were seeing.

“Hello losers. I know I have been absent for some time but that all changes today. However that is not the only change either. Starting effective immediately uniforms are now longer necessary. In fact they are banned. That is unless you can somehow make the atrocious outfit sexy. Secondly we will be introducing new classes into the curriculum. Fashion, Make-up application and Gold-digging classes will now become mandatory to make each and every one of you it into a hot a piece of ass worthy of my presence. Finally and most importantly I will be no longer addressed as Principal or Chloe. From now on I will only answer to Headmistress Claudia.” The Headmistress said with a smirk as she saw the looks on each of girls face.

“Class dismissed.” She said in a breathy tone causing all the girls to quickly pack up their things and file out unsure how to feel about the changes. Penny was the last to walk towards the door but was stopped by the Headmistress.

“Penny I would like to see you in my private quarters later tonight, we have something to discuss.” The Headmistress said in almost a whisper before smiling unnervingly at Penny and leaving her staring at her ass as she walked out. Something about all of this gave Penny such déjà vu.

She was nervous all day for what the Headmistress could have in store for her. She had seen that mischevious look before when she used to look vainly at her own reflection. It was a look that had an evil plan in mind.

Hours later sweaty palmed and heart racing she knocked on the Headmistress’ door. A sultry ‘come’ came from within and Penny opened the door.

The Headmistress was dressed in tight yoga clothes with her hair in a ponytail when she entered looking into an open suitcase. Penny’s suitcase to be exact. Despite her dressed down appearance she still looked stunning. She gestured Penny to sit.

Claudia stalked around to Penny and stood strangely close to the her. Penny could smell the perfume waft off her and felt a tinge of nostalgia. It reminded her of her own perfume she used to wear and she realized it probably was hers seeing as she had packed it in the suitcase that was wide open.

“When you first arrived here at Darkstar all those weeks ago you weren’t completely honest with me were you Penny?” Claudia finally said peering down at Penny.

“I was Headmistress, completely.” Penny said nervously unsure what this was about.

“Don’t lie to me girl! I know about your secret! After all how do you think I have become this sexy and powerful? But I want to be even hotter and bitchier and it’s running out so you are going to tell me where to get more.” Claudia said slowly reaching behind her back for something.

“I’m sorry Headmistress I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Penny said really starting to fear the crazed look in Claudia’s face. The Headmistress grabbed her by her hair and took out a pair of scissors that she had been hiding from behind her back.

“Listen you pathetic worm I can make your life here at Darkstar a living hell or I can elevate you back to your Queen bee status so tell me how I can make more of the shampoo that I took from your bag. I want to be even hotter and meaner than I am now and you’re going to help me or I’ll cut what’s left of your hair off and grind it down into a paste that I can use instead.” Claudia said through gritted teeth.

Shampoo? Penny thought. She had forgot she even brought any but then again it wasn’t some store bought kind, it was a special homemade kind her rich Aunt had showed her how to make years ago. It always struck her as odd that her wealthy relative work resort to making her own shampoo but Penny forgave it as an excuse for her Aunt to spend time with her. At the time Penny was being bullied tremendously at school and her Aunt took pity on her. She had said it would make her feel better.

That’s when it clicked for Penny. The shampoo had transformed her into a bitch all those years ago. The more she used it the more of a bitch she had become. Caz cutting off her hair removed all her bitchiness in one fell swoop. She hadn’t used the shampoo since so she reverted back to her normal self.

Looking at the beautiful but unhinged Headmistress she knew she had to do what Caz had done to her if there were ever to be peace at Darkstar again.

“Oh the shampoo. Yes of course I can tell you how to make it but it’s rather complicated. Do you have a pen?” Penny said. Claudia eyed her suspiciously but let her go of her grasp and put the scissors on the table. The Headmistress turned around to find a pen and paper on her desk which was when Penny struck.

Grabbing hold of the scissors she quickly sliced through Claudia’s hair above the hair tie while holding the blonde locks in her other hand. Immediately Claudia turned and fire burned in her eyes.

“What have you done?! My beautiful hair! Give it back you brat!” Said the rapidly transforming Headmistress. Second by second she was reverting back to her older self.

Penny ran to the door closest to her which unfortunately happened to be the bathroom. She was trapped. She locked the door just before Claudia (quickly becoming Chloe) was about to burst through.

“You open this door at once you little slut and give me back my hair! I’m not going back to being a weak nobody again!” The Headmistress yelled pounding on the door.

Penny knew that she had to destroy the hair before the Headmistress got in but she also knew that when she eventually did get in that there would be hell to pay for her. She would certainly be punished and probably forced to give up shampoo recipe. She wasn’t strong enough to withstand the pressure that would be coming her way.

But Paige was.

Only as her old mean self would she be able to escape the predicament she was now in. She also had to admit that holding the long luxurious hair in her hands made her long for her previous bitchy self.

The longer she held the hair the more she remembered how good it felt to have such beautiful hair. The hair of a sexy alpha. The hair itself seemed to whisper to her to put it on, it wanted Penny as much as she was starting to want it too.

She wasn’t even sure anything would even happen but her hands seemed to be on autopilot as they brought the hair up to her head.

Immediately the hair strands came alive as they reached her own hair and gripped on tight to her short bob. The blonde strands recognized Penny’s hair as being once corrupted and found it easy to assimilate with her. They could feel the years of shampoo use in the roots and fed on the corruption.

She moaned as the Headmistress’ hair became one with her. Her mind was instantly flooded with the memories she had suppressed. She remembered her time stalking the halls of her high school instilling fear in all the pathetic losers like Sarah and Caz. Caz! That bitch will pay for taking away her power, for reducing her to less than a beta! She had kid herself into thinking she didn’t miss this thought but she suddenly couldn’t wait until she was back to her bitchy self.

However her body was aging up. No longer was she the young 18 year old Paige but now instead she was early 30’s with delicious evil knowledge flowing into her. Her own desires of being a bitchy bully we’re coming back but also new more recent thoughts from the Headmistress were infecting her mind. Instead of resist it she embraced it!

As a student she only had so much power but as Headmistress she would have control over the entire student body. A student body she could mould into a generation of evil bitches that she would command like an army. The whole idea was making her panties positively wet which was why she was glad when her clothes started to change from the boring uniform to a tight sequinned dress. It was just the perfect outfit for the now evil older woman.

As the perfect makeup settled on her face giving her a permanent stone cold look and her hair fused on the atomic level with the Headmistress’ her mind became clear of what she would do now that she was not only back but she was even badder than before.

She took one look at her resurrected form in the mirror and let a soft moan escape her lips. She couldn’t believe what a loser she had let herself become in the past few weeks when she could of been this big breasted bitch instead. Penny was gone once again and Paige reigned supreme. She had so much lost time to make up.

Swinging open the bathroom door she was confronted with the pathetic image of a crying Chloe now back to her old self.

“Do pick yourself up off the floor Chloe it’s unbecoming of a Deputy Headmistress.” Snarled Paige as she walked out of the bathroom over to her open suitcase.

“Deputy? B-but I’m...” Chloe started but was silenced by one look from Paige.

“Yes of course Headmistress Pen- I mean Headmistress Paige. I’m sorry, I’ll go clean myself up.” Chloe said picking herself up off the floor and heading for the door.

“Not so fast.” Paige said causing Chloe to stop in her tracks. The new Headmistress sauntered over to the Deputy loving how frightened and subservient she was. It had been so long since Paige had felt such bitchy power over a weakling that she wanted to ring out every drop but unfortunately she had a plan that needed to be put in motion.

“Here this will be enough for you to become a fraction of the hot slut you were in my absence. Do a good job and I may even bring you some more when I return.” Paige said handing the remnants of the shampoo bottle to a grateful Chloe. It made Paige disgusted seeing how desperate she was.

“Oh thank you so much Headmistress but where are you going?” Chole said while never taking her eyes off the shampoo.

“There is a personal matter I have to attend to my old school. Let’s call it a discipline problem that only I can fix.” Paige said with a smirk on her lips and revenge in her eyes. No one cuts off Paige and gets away with it.

[originalhybridloverfics]

I Can't Let Her Die - Ch 10

A/N: Over the last week, my uncle passed away. And then I found out my cousin who came down for the funeral passed away.

My uncle was in his sixties but my cousin was only 34, he was perfectly healthy. My family is having a hard time with it all.

I will be taking time away to be with them. I won't be able to devote my time and headspace to write for a bit and I don't want my writing to suffer because of it.

Never take family for granted, death happens unexpectedly.

For now, I will be helping my cousin's wife in her time of need, my cousin had four young children and she could use the help during this difficult time.

This will be the last update until I am ready to get back to writing until then I will be on hiatus.

Felicity pressed her lips into a thin line. Laurel’s rudeness was not surprising. She had always had the feeling since their first meeting that Laurel didn’t like her.

Felicity knew it was because of Oliver but she didn’t understand it. Laurel had a history with Oliver. Not good history but it was still there. She had years of memories and moments with Oliver that no other woman who had been in his life did.

Though Felicity was glad she didn’t share the same history. Oliver and Laurel’s relationship was a place where romance, love, and loyalty went to die a slow painful agonizing death.

Still, she knew Laurel held a place in Oliver’s heart that no one could touch. Not even her.

Which is why she didn’t understand why the other woman was so threatened by her. Oliver loved her and held her on a pedestal above everyone else in life.

She was Gorgeous Laurel for a reason.

“You don’t get to come in and demand things.” Future Oliver’s voice was sharp like a blade. “And you sure as hell don’t get to come down here and speak to Felicity in such a way.”

“Ollie-”

“Don’t, I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth unless it is an apology.” his eyes were like burning daggers, his jaw ticking in anger.

“I’m sorry,” Laurel said immediately. “I was just surprised is all.”

“I don’t mean to apologize to me, I mean apologize to Felicity.” He steps next to Felicity, his hand coming to wrap around her shoulder.

Laurel looked at them and felt something twist inside her. “You want me to apologize to her?”

“Yes, she deserves your respect. Not for you to treat her like some second or third-class citizen.” He ground out, his hand tightening on Felicity’s shoulder.

Felicity covered his hand with hers and looked up at him. “It’s okay, Oliver.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, his other hand came up to brush a strand of her hair back. “You deserve respect. It does not matter who it is. No one has the right to speak down to you. No one.”

Felicity’s heart pounded in her chest, she wasn’t surprised he spoke up for her not this new Oliver she was getting to know but the intensity in which he spoke had butterflies swirling in her stomach, his arms were practically surrounding her and she liked it. She wanted to stay there in the circle of his arms. If felt right. It felt like she belonged there, the heat coming from his body warming her.

The look in his eyes made her want to surge up and press her lips against his but she held herself back. She couldn’t do that.

She took a shaky step back only to feel another presence, her Oliver’s hand settled over her other shoulder. “He’s right. If you’re going to be coming down here I expect you to treat everyone equally,” he spoke to Laurel.

Digg came forward. “Why are you here Laurel?”

“I need to speak with Oliver,” Laurel looked between the two Oliver’s, “but now I just really need to know what is going on. How are there two of you?”

“It’s complicated.” The future Oliver said. “And it’s not something we can get into right now. Tell me what you came for.”

“Right,” Laurel stepped closer to him. “I know when Sara was here you would partner up with her out there on the streets but she’s gone with Nyssa and you’re out there alone.”

“He’s not alone,” Felicity interjected.

“Yes but neither Roy nor John are the Canary,” Laurel argued.

“Neither are you,” Felicity said and went on before Laurel could continue. “And don’t diminish John or Roy’s place on this team. Every night they go out into the field and have Oliver’s back. Each one of them makes sure they make it back home every night. This isn’t a one or two-person unit. It’s a team.”

“And where do you fit in all this?” Laurel didn’t like feeling like she was being talked down to but that’s what it felt like to her. “Is an IT girl really necessary?”

“Yes, and she is not just an IT girl. She’s Felicity” Future Oliver cut in sharply while Digg and Roy bristled at her words. “Before her, John and I were half-assing it at best. We were just two soldiers but with Felicity, we became a team. A family. And that expanded with Roy and Sara. Felicity is the heart of the team. Without her, it doesn’t work.” His expression darkened. “Trust me, I would know.”

“Oliver,” Felicity’s tone was soft as she looked at him, their gaze saying the words their lips weren’t. She slipped her hand in his, squeezing it in comfort.

Oliver automatically lifted her hand to his lips, and then held it to his heart.

Laurel’s eyes narrowed. “Am I missing something? Are you two together?”

“A place on this team.” Said Roy and John nudged him.

Present Oliver looked at the others, “Can you guys give us a moment with Laurel?”

John and Roy walked back to the back of the lair.

Felicity squeezed future Oliver’s hand one more time before joining Roy and John.

Laurel didn’t like the way both Oliver’s watch her go, one holding his hand out like her putting distance between them was too painful and the other like he wanted to call out to her for her to come back.

What the hell was going on with them and the babble mouth blonde.

“Furthermore, Felicity is more than the heart of the team, she’s brilliant and kind and she knows when to call our bullshit and force us to pull our heads out of our asses. Namely me. She is more valuable to the team and me than anyone, especially you could even begin to understand.” Future Oliver was vehement in his defense of Felicity.

“Ollie, I-”

“Don’t,” future Oliver said harshly. “I don’t want to hear an apology unless the words mean something to you.”

Laurel fell silent for a moment before finally. “I didn’t come here to cause problems. I wanted to talk about the Canary.”

“Sara is the Canary.” Future Oliver’s response was abrupt.

“Yes, but she’s not here. She left with Nyssa and I know you could use the help.”

“I have a team to help me.” Future Oliver glared harshly. “A team you are not a part of.”

“I can be,” Laurel argued.

“Are you out of your damn mind? You are not trained. If you go out there, you will get yourself killed or one of us.” Present Oliver said, his tone less harsh than his future self.

“Then train me!” Laurel saw the opening she was looking for.

A growl not unlike the one when he was under the hood, came from low in the back of future Oliver’s throat. “I don’t want you here in my space.”

Laurel flinched back.

“Hey, would you let me talk to her?” Present Oliver said, sending himself a look.

“You are too soft with her.” he accused before walking away.

Oliver’s eyes narrowed as his future self walked back to Felicity his hand easily finding hers, and hating as they seemed to be sharing food.

Seeing Felicity acting like a couple with him made him envious in a way he has never felt before.

“Laurel it is not that simple,” Oliver said gently, forcing himself to focus on her. “This life, being a member of this team-”

“I know that,” Laurel interjected. “I know this life is dangerous.” she took another step forward. “But saving people, fighting for a cause that is bigger than yourself, working with you,” she laid her hand on his arm. “This is what we were meant to do.”

Oliver looked at her hand on his arm, watching as it slid down to hold his hand. It felt wrong.

His eyes moved away from Laurel to Felicity, meeting her blues eyes. He flinched at the hurt look in her eyes as she watched him and Laurel.

He jerked his hand back as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t but it was too late. Felicity looked away from him. She turned her whole body away from him.

He watched as his future self, stepped closer to her, tucking her into his side, and glared at him like he wanted to put an arrow through him.

Oliver frowned, wryly. His future self took self-loathing to another level. He was pretty sure his future self hated him to a certain degree.

“Laurel if you’re going to get into this it has to be for the right reasons.” Oliver turned back to her, forcing himself to look at her and not Felicity.

“What other reasons do I have,” Laurel was hurt when he pulled away from her she quickly covered it up, forcing a determined look. “Look, Ollie, I am going to help people just like Sara and you can either help me or I will do it on my own though I would feel better if you were with me.”

Oliver breathed out through his nose, fighting annoyance. Laurel never listened until she got her way and at this rate, she was going to get herself killed. “If you’re dead set on this regardless of the risk to yourself then you will not go out there until I say you are ready.”

“Does that mean you’re going to train me?” Laurel smiled cautiously.

“It does,” Oliver paused. “On one condition.”

“Which is?” Laurel asked, drawing closer to him, biting down on her lip.

“Felicity. I expect you to treat her with the same respect you would me and that goes for the whole team. If you are going to be a part of it you will not insult them and make anyone out to be inferior to you, do you understand?”

Laurel felt her hackles rise at the thought of treating the blonde as if she was on her level. She forced a smile. “Of course, Ollie.”

“C’mon,” said Oliver. “Felicity brought food. We were going to eat. We’ll discuss the new arrangement with the rest of the team.”

Laurel fell into step with him, feeling like she won, she flashed everyone a smile. “I look forward to fighting beside you,” she said before Oliver could.

“What’s happening now?” Roy shot Oliver a glare.

Felicity looked from Oliver and Laurel, brow furrowed.

“You’re not serious?” Future Oliver’s eyes were hard on his younger self. “She does not belong out there. She doesn’t belong down here.”

“We are going to work with her. It’s better than letting her get herself killed.” his younger self argued.

“We don’t have time for this!” Future Oliver growled, voice rising. “You know that! We have one goal. One! We don’t need distractions if we’re going to change my future.”

“You’re from the future?” Laurel jumped on the information like a dog with a bone.

She however was completely ignored by the two Oliver’s as the rest of Team Arrow watch them as if they were watching a ping pong match.

“We will change it but we can’t let Laurel get herself killed either.” present Oliver argued.

“I will not lose the woman I love because you can’t see the bigger picture here and focus on the only goal that matters.”

Felicity’s eyes widened, not expecting Oliver to proclaim his love in front of everyone.

But of course, Laurel took his words to mean her. Her heart skipped in her chest and a smile pulled at her lips. “You’re not going to lose me, Ollie. I am right here. This will-”

“I wasn’t talking about you!” Future Oliver growled in annoyance. “You are not the woman I love. Felicity is,”

“What?” Laurel recoiled as if he had hit her.

“I was talking about Felicity.” Future Oliver repeated

Laurel’s expression twisted. “So you are with Felicity? Really, Ollie? Screwing the EA is beneath you.”

“We are not sleeping together,” Felicity interjected.

Laurel scoffed, disbelievingly.

“Shut up,” future Oliver snapped angrily at the brunette, he stepped closer to Laurel and her eyes flared with desire.

Future Oliver’s annoyance flared more, he didn’t care for her attraction to him. He needed her to understand, she was not going to have everything go her way.

“Felicity and I have never been together, we have never slept together,”

“Then you can’t possibly love her,” Laurel said her tone, condescending. “Don’t mistake friendship for something more.”

“Love isn’t just fucking someone,” Oliver growled out. “It’s connection, it’s chemistry, understanding, belief, faith. It’s looking into their eyes and knowing that you’re safe, it’s that feeling of home when you’re with them, it’s the way your breath catches in your throat, your heart pounding against your ribcage. The way your skin feels heated by a simple touch, it the quiet dreams, it’s in the way you look at them. It’s all the little things.”

Laurel’s breath quickened with every word and she felt a pang because he wasn’t describing them.

“I am not in love with you, Laurel and the truth is I never was but Felicity,” he turned to look at her and found her, smiling at something Digg said. “Felicity is everything.” he turned back to Laurel. “I came back to save her life and that is the only thing that I care about. Don’t get in my way I can promise you won't like the results.”

“Alright,” his younger self stepped in front of Laurel. “I think she gets it.”

“If she doesn’t it’s on her.” Future Oliver moved, going back to Felicity.

Present Oliver forced himself to turn away. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take of seeing the easy way his older self interacted with Felicity.

He wasn’t surprised to see Laurel had tears in her eyes, a hurt look on her face. His future self was harsh.

“I don’t understand,” Laurel shook her head. “He came back here to save Felicity but if that’s was possible why didn’t he do this for his mom or God, Tommy? How is Felicity’s life more important?”

“It’s complicated. I can’t speak for him, I can only speak for myself and the experience I had and all I can tell you is that I can’t imagine getting through the last year without Felicity or the year before.” Oliver said. “I can’t imagine a future where she is not down here with me.”

Laurel shook her head and crossed her arms, her eyes landing on future Oliver and Felicity. The way he couldn’t get close enough, the absolute trust in Felicity’s eyes, the longing in his.

She couldn’t bring herself to understand no matter what Oliver said that out of everyone Oliver had lost Felicity was the one he came back to save. It didn’t make sense.

Who the hell was she to him to hold such a place in his life?

Laurel felt her stomach twist with anger and resentment with the realization that Oliver had never once felt about her with such strength and devotion.

What the hell was so special about Felicity?

She was the one who spent years putting up with his acts, the antics he got into with Tommy. The constant cheating, being fodder for the media because he didn’t know how to be faithful and now she was just going to be tossed aside for some blonde who came out of nowhere and brainwashed Ollie into thinking friendship was the same as being in love with someone?

No, she would make him see reason.

All she had to do was show him how great they were together and everything would be okay. She just had to suffer through this infatuation he seemed to have for Felicity.

She wouldn’t have to wait long. She was certain of it. When it came to women he was quick to grow bored. She was the exception. She has always been the exception. He always came back to her and she had no doubt he would come back to her again.

“Laurel, if you are going to be down here you will need to accept Felicity. Any grudges you might have for her need to be checked at the door.” present Oliver stressed.

Laurel dropped her arms and plastered on a fake smile. “I have no grudges. I just didn’t realize how important she is to you and u now that I do, I want to get to know her. Any friend of yours Ollie is a friend of mine.”

Future Oliver glowered when Laurel joined them with his younger self. He honestly didn’t have time for her.

It’s the only reason he told her the truth. He didn’t have time for games or keeping up with cover stories. He had more important things to deal with. Namely, keeping Felicity alive and ending the life of the bastard to take her from him.

Lunch was finished quietly a tenseness settling around them.

Laurel didn’t leave, not even when the boys headed out for patrol as night fell.

Felicity felt uncomfortable in her presence as she ran coms. She didn’t like that she was alone with Laurel.

Maybe she shouldn’t have convinced Future Oliver to join the rest of the team for patrol.

“How hard is it to do this?” Laurel asked, coming to look over her shoulder, staring at the computer screens.

“It’s the hardest thing in the world,” Felicity answered.

Laurel snorted. “I doubt sitting behind a computer is very hard.”

Felicity couldn’t stop her glare if she tried. “I meant the sacrifices Oliver, Roy, and John make going out there every night, living double lives, risking their safety to protect the city.”

Laurel couldn’t wait to be included in that. She wanted to make that kind of difference.

“And to answer the question. Yes, it’s not easy to run coms. it more than watching a computer screen, and it calls for more. It requires knowing your way around computer code and that’s something not easily taught to some individuals with less understanding of technology and not as much intellect.”

The boys were on the way back from patrol which Felicity couldn’t be happier about because she didn’t think she was prepared to deal with Laurel. Not tonight.

“It doesn’t look that difficult,” Laurel insisted. “I think I might want to try my hand at it.”

Felicity’s soul died on the inside at just the thought of Laurel touching her babies.

Oliver, Roy, and Digg made their way in through the back entrance, neither woman noticing the four men’s arrival.

“Oliver might have agreed to train you,” Felicity stood from her desk. “But you will not be going anywhere near my computers. I won’t have anyone messing with my babies.”

“I am good with computers.” Laurel insisted.

“Laurel, no one touches Felicity’s set up.” Future Oliver said drawing their eyes to him and the rest of the team.

“Not even you,” Laurel crossed her arms and cocked her head.

“Not even me,” present Oliver confirmed. “Can we talk?”

Laurel smiled brilliantly. Felicity tried not to show her hurt as he pulled Laurel to the other side of the room. Like the pair were sharing secret no one else was privileged enough to hear.

Felicity turned back to her computers, setting them to send alerts to her phone. “I am going to call it a night.”

She really just needed to get away from the Oliver and Laurel show. It was not good enough for her mental health.

Future Oliver set the bow he wielded down and grabbed Felicity’s coat from the back of her chair. “I’ll get you home,”

Felicity looked back at future Oliver and her chest warmed. “Do you think you can fit in the passenger seat of my car?”

“I’ll manage,” he said with a smile that was just for her.

Felicity said goodnight to Roy and John and allowed Oliver to take her by the hand.

Oliver chanced a look back to see his past self in a heated discussion with Laurel and he shook his head. If he had to make himself pull his head out of his ass to protect Felicity’s heart he damn well would do it. Facing forward again he laced his fingers with Felicity.

Felicity looked up at him and the smile on her face was enough to tear anyones’ walls down. “Let’s go home.”

His heart skipped in his chest, his stomach flipping.

Home. With Felicity.

Nothing had ever sounded more perfect.

Tags: @erika-amber @msbeccieboo @faegal04 @eloiselili @jendiaz69 @omglovechrissie @icannotbelieveiamhere @hope-for-olicity @keabbs @lageniuswannabe @it-was-a-red-heeler @aguschaer @memcjo

[pheita]

New Home New Trouble Part 21

This story has some heavy topics such as miscarriage, sudden infant death, oppression of various minorities, poltergeist-like spirits, and domestic violence.

Additional warning for mentions of bullying and child abuse.

Tagging @ashen-crest @adie-dee @abalonetea @cometworks @viskafrer @vivian-is-writing @kainablue @contes-de-rheio @writingamongther0ses

Lyran hadn't realized how he had fallen asleep until Arritit's laughter woke him. Unhappy at being awakened, he just growled at her. In the same second, he remembered that he still had Ylva in his arms, who had also fallen asleep. It seemed the morning had taken more energy out of both of them than they realized. "Come on, you two wolf cuddlers. Dinner's ready." "Only if there's meat," Ylva commented, still in his arms. "I have a feeling that meat you're after is going to have to wait a while. But yes, there are chicken pies. Sojan made them." "We should get up before the pies are gone." Lyran gently poked Ylva in the ribs with his finger. "That tasty?" "You'll have to tell me." "As if Sojan doesn't cook delicious," Arritit added with a chuckle, "So off you go. Not that anyone else thinks we're doing anything else here." "Ari..." "Yes, my dearest Lyran?" "I love you, but sometimes...." "Yes?" Her giggle turned to laughter. "Sometimes I just want to put you in a corner gagged and tied."

"That's Sojan's thing, not mine," Arritit held firm, leaning down to the two of them, "I'd rather be the one who ties up." The stifled agonized sigh from Ylva made Lyran smirk. "Pictures in your head?" he whispered in her ear. "Don't.” Playfully, she pushed him off her and stood up stiffly. "So, chicken pies?" "Follow me, little one. We have a few things to talk about, too." "I'm afraid so, too." Lyran stayed with Parin a moment longer, tickling him behind the ear. "Are you thinking the same thing I am, my friend?" Parin raised his head and looked after Ylva and Arritit. "I'll take that as confirmation." He tried to get rid of the straw as best he could and stretched slowly. Even though Parin was warm and so snuggled up to Ylva also brought warmth, the stable was still the coldest room in the estate and his muscles were stiff. When he arrived in the kitchen, Sojan was defending the pies from Niat, who seemed to have a pronounced craving for meat dishes after the busy day. Ylva tried not to laugh while she ate, and Mithelia sat unconcernedly talking with Arritit. This form of normalcy was almost absurd after the morning. A satisfied smile on his face, he sat down next to Hedanro, who silently pushed a plate of pies and other goods towards him. "Shall I prepare a room for the Nismani?" asked Hedanro quietly. "That's the best thing for today. I don't send either of them out on the road in this weather when it's already dark." "I'll take care of it." The triumphant "Ha!" from Niat said she had won. When Lyran looked to her, he noticed Sojan holding his ribs. "You seriously hit him in the ribs?" "He refused me food," Niat indignantly said, biting into the first pie with delight. "Like wild animals...", Mithelia shook her head with a grin. "Like it looks any different in the pub," Ylva chuckled. Her attempt to take another pie from the serving plate caused Niat to growl at her. Everyone at the table fell silent. Ylva leaned forward and looked directly at Niat. "Either you share or we discuss this outside." It was the same cold tone Lyran had heard on her a few days ago. Chewing, Niat considered what she preferred. Wordlessly, she pushed the pies to Ylva. Sojan was the first to laugh. A child's laughter caught Lyran's attention. He looked around, but no one else had apparently heard it. He took two pastries and stood up. His path led him to the garden, where the laughter resounded again. A moment later, the two Lytesis appeared before him. "You can still hear us?" "I'm puzzled, too. Can you always make yourselves visible?" The two nodded, chuckling. "We can, but it's funnier when you can't see us." Lyran lifted the pastries a little. "I don't know if you need food, but I thought you'd like some cake." "We don't need to eat," the first explained. "But sometimes we taste when there's cooking," grinned the second. They took the pastries. "Since you're here, there's more yummy food." "With Sojan's cooking skills, no wonder." It was funny that even the Lytesis praised Sojan's cooking. Greedily, the two munched on the pastries and beamed at Lyran. "You know what to do about her, don't you?" "You mean Ylva?" "Yes. We like her, and she needs a home." No sooner had they spoken than they became invisible again. "Hey. That's not fair." After a few moments, he had to realize that they wouldn't respond to him any further, and he stepped back. As it seemed the Lytesis had taken Ylva into their hearts, the Great Mother knew why.

[hysterialevi]

Hjarta | Chapter 11

Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

A WHILE LATER

BJORNHEIMR, THE LONGHOUSE

Pain. That was all he could see.

As Sigurd walked side-by-side with Ulfar through the longhouse’s doors, he heard nothing but the agonized groans of fallen warriors, and the devastated cries of survivors who were now mourning their loved ones.

The horrid stench of smoke and death clung stubbornly onto the wooden walls, and with so many fresh corpses now littering the village, they had what looked like a battlefield sitting on their very doorstep.

It was a nightmare come to life. Even though Sigurd was no stranger to the morbidity of war -- he had grown up in the midst of one, after all -- it was still enough to make his stomach churn, and his heart ache.

How could this have happened? And during such a joyous event as well? Today was meant to be a day for their clans to celebrate; to enjoy themselves. But instead, they were now taking shelter in the longhouse, and being forced to isolate themselves from the mayhem that lurked outside. 

It looked like Muspelheim itself had razed Bjornheimr’s streets, and frankly, Sigurd didn’t know how they were going to recover from this.

“Poor woman...” Ulfar said, gazing in Ingrida’s direction. At the moment, the seeress was holding Eirik’s body in her arms and gently stroking his forehead, comforting him as if he had contracted a simple ailment. Not a single word was being uttered from her lips, and yet, the lifelessness of her expression was enough to say everything.

“No parent should have to lose their child,” Ulfar remarked, his voice heavy with sorrow. “I can’t imagine what that woman is going through right now.”

The prince followed his line of sight. “What happened to Eirik? How did he die?”

“I have no idea. He approached me and Eivor at the temple just before the assault was launched... with three arrows in his back. He wanted me to tell Ingrida something, but... he slipped away before he could get the words out.”

The older man’s brow crinkled with anger. “Those bastards. Kjotve’s men didn’t even have the honor of giving Eirik a warrior’s death. They shot him down like a dog.”

Sigurd sighed in frustration, crossing his arms in a stern manner. “...How did this even happen? You and I spent so much time planning the defenses of this village. We cleared the forest of Kjotve’s camps. How is it that his people overwhelmed us so easily?”

Ulfar’s eyes narrowed with skepticism. “I have the same question. It’s possible that Kjotve’s been planning this for a while, but... still. I’d be lying if I said the efficiency of this attack wasn’t suspicious.”

Bringing their conversation to a halt, a nearby series of footsteps suddenly made its way into the building, drawing both the men’s attention to the doorway.

In the distance, Sigurd saw Eivor dragging himself into the longhouse with his father’s axe in hand, still as bleak as before. His head sank with a profound sense of melancholy, and his feet lingered behind him in a manner that made it seem as if chains holding him down.

At first, the prince expected Eivor to say something to Ulfar upon entry, but instead, he simply drifted past the two of them without a single word, and headed out into the training yard adjacent to the longhouse.

“...Do you think he’ll be alright?” Sigurd asked, watching as the man slipped away.

Ulfar shrugged. “I cannot say. Eivor has always been strong, but even the strongest of men have their weaknesses. Kjotve has caused him much pain ever since he was a child. It will take him time to recover from this battle.”

The prince’s voice softened at the thought of a recent memory. “...Eivor told me about his parents a while ago, you know. About how Kjotve killed them.”

“Then you understand the gravity of what happened today. Kjotve trying to kill Eivor in the same way he murdered Varin -- it’s an insult deserving of an axe to the chest. I’ll be surprised if the boy lets this go.”

Sigurd paused for a moment, allowing the realization to settle in. “...Eivor nearly gave up Valhalla in exchange for my survival. He was willing to die without a fight... just to ensure that I lived.”

Ulfar nodded, recalling his conversation with Eivor all those years ago. “Yes. Because in the end, you were more important to him than anything Valhalla could’ve offered. He spent the past thirteen years dreaming of the day he’d finally get revenge, and he sacrificed it for you. I hope you understand that, Sigurd.”

“Of course. I owe him my life.”

“Indeed.”

Sigurd decided to follow Eivor and began making his way out of the longhouse, hoping to catch the young man before he disappeared. 

“Wait here,” he told Ulfar. “I’ll go speak with him. I want to see how he’s doing.”

“Hold a moment.” The raider said, stopping Sigurd in his tracks.

“Yes? What is it?”

The older man fell silent for a second, pondering how to broach the subject.

“Before you go, Sigurd, there’s something else you should be aware of.” Ulfar lowered his voice, ensuring that no one else could hear him. “...I know about your relationship with Eivor.”

Sigurd’s heart skipped a beat, and the color drained from his face. “You-- what?”

“Eivor confided in me during the wedding,” Ulfar explained. “He had quite a lot on his mind, and was willing to tell me about your affair. Have no fear, though. I won’t expose your secret. He entrusted me with this matter, and I have no intentions of betraying that trust. However, there is something I need to make clear.”

The prince listened intently, worried about where this was going. “...Alright, then. Speak your mind.”

The raider crossed his arms. “It pains me to separate Eivor from someone who makes him happy, but for the sake of this alliance, I must insist that you keep things at a platonic level if you wish to console him. I realize it’s not always that easy, but our clans need each other to win this war. If your marriage with Randvi falls apart, so does our bond.”

Sigurd took his words to heart, regardless of how reluctant he may have been to accept reality.

“I understand, Ulfar. You have nothing to fear. I wouldn’t jeopardize this marriage.”

Ulfar didn’t look entirely convinced. “I hope so. You have my trust for now, Sigurd, but just remember -- I don’t give it blindly.” He turned away from the prince, dismissing him with a wave of the hand. “Anyway, go and see Eivor. I imagine he’s somewhere in the training yard. If the two of you wish to join me later, I’ll be speaking with the jarl and your father in the war room. We have much to discuss.”

“I will.”

“Look after that boy, Sigurd,” Ulfar said, striding to the front of the longhouse. “He cares about you more than you realize.”

~~~~~~~~~~

THE TRAINING YARD

Stepping back out into the open, Sigurd welcomed himself into the deserted training yard as he scanned the area for Eivor, admittedly reluctant to wander through the aftermath of the recent battle. The thick scent of smoke and ash immediately smacked him across the face once he was outside, and even now, he could still feel the heat of the raging fires consuming their entire village.

He imagined Eivor’s state of mind must’ve been dire, if he was willing to take solace in an environment like this. Bjornheimr was hardly recognizable after the chaos Kjotve wreaked, and yet, the young man found it preferable to staying within the confines of the longhouse.

Sigurd supposed it was understandable, considering his exchange with the enemy. Kjotve could’ve cut Eivor down in the midst of a proper holmgang, but instead, he decided to do something worse. He took away his honor.

He degraded the Wolf-Kissed with the same impossible dilemma he once thrust upon Varin, and now, the nightmare would only haunt Eivor again. The gods would know of his swift surrender and declare it as an action of cowardice, and he would likely receive judgement from his fellow clan members.

In Sigurd’s eyes though, the man was a hero. He sacrificed one of the greatest honors known to Midgard in exchange for his family’s safety, and he did so with barely any hesitation. He displayed more courage than Sigurd had ever seen from anyone else in his life, and yet, he would have to reclaim his honor simply because he was willing to put down his axe.

It was a series of events laden with unfairness in Sigurd’s opinion, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to change it nonetheless.

Roaming closer to the training yard, Sigurd’s head perked up in interest when the sound of metal scraping against wood suddenly reached his ears, drawing his focus to a nearby tree. There, he saw Eivor himself fervently slashing his axe against the trunk, letting out occasional shouts of anger.

His movements were erratic and driven by rage, and at certain points, the prince even feared he might chop down the whole tree. Eivor seemed to be trapped in a tempest of fury that Sigurd had never witnessed in the past, and frankly, he was concerned about the man’s well-being.

“Eivor?” He called out. The younger man swung his axe one more time before coming to a halt, giving Sigurd no more than a brief glance.

“...What?” He replied sharply, speaking through rapid breaths.

The prince approached his friend, careful not to provoke him any further.

“I don’t mean to disturb you,” he said gently, “but... I was worried. You disappeared from the longhouse so quick. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Eivor turned around, revealing the glower that had been branded into his face.

“How do you think I’m doing?” He snapped, lodging the weapon’s blade into the wood. “The gods granted me the chance to kill Kjotve after thirteen years... and I wasted it! He was right there. He was right in front of me. I could’ve done something -- anything! Even if it killed me, it would’ve been better than surrendering!”

He stormed away from the tree and began pacing around the yard, attempting to recompose himself.

“By Odin, I’m such an idiot. I’ve spent my entire life preparing for this moment. Waiting for it. I’ve endured countless days of training, planning -- everything you can think of. I’ve placed offer after offer at the feet of the gods, just begging them for the chance to bury my axe in Kjotve’s chest. And what do I do when they finally give it to me?” Eivor kicked a rock resting by his feet. “I walk away.”

Sigurd gazed at the man in sympathy, wishing he could comfort him somehow.

“Don’t be so quick to dismiss yourself, Eivor. You may have let Kjotve slip from your grasp for now, but remember why you did it. You did it to save your family. You did it to save me. I... I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t shown up. I owe you my life.”

Eivor plopped himself on the ground and sat against the longhouse’s walls, staring upwards at the smoke-riddled sky.

“Perhaps I should be proud of myself, then,” he said, “but I’m not. If anything, I just feel like a fool. I feel like... like I’ve failed my father. Like I’ve wasted everything he did for me.”

Sigurd took a seat next to the Wolf-Kissed, allowing his feet to rest for the moment. “You’re too hard on yourself, drengr. Your father would understand. He was once in the same position as you, after all. Not only that, but he also made the same choice. He would be proud of your sacrifice.”

Contrary to what the older man expected, Eivor only seemed to grow more bitter.

“I guess. But-- why are you even here? I thought you’d be in the longhouse, looking after the villagers with Randvi. What are you doing out here talking to me?”

“Randvi has her own duties to take care of, and so do I. But I wanted to see you first. Just because I’m married now doesn’t mean I don’t care about you anymore, Eivor.”

The man shook his head. “Well, you shouldn’t. You can’t afford to care about me, Sigurd. You have a wife now. A future queen. She’s the one you need to be focused on. Not me.”

Sigurd was admittedly taken aback by the coldness in his tone, but brushed it off nonetheless. He knew Eivor was hurting at the moment, and it felt wrong for him to hold that against him.

“Eivor...” he said softly, “listen to me. Kjotve may have escaped from our grasp today, but we are not letting him go. Ulfar is devising a plan in the war room as we speak. We will find him again. You will get your chance.”

The young man sighed out of exhaustion, causing his shoulders to slouch. “...I hope so. I’ve fought too hard for this war to end now. I can’t let Kjotve get away. Not when I’m so close. I just pray that the gods will deem me worthy of a second chance.”

Sigurd gave him a reassuring nod. “They will. This fight isn’t over yet, Eivor. In fact, it’s hardly begun. We haven’t seen the last of Kjotve. I know it.”

Eivor dragged a hand down his face and drifted off into silence, staring at the clouds of smoke forming in the distance. By now, they had completely blotted out the sapphire embrace of the sky above, and darkened the land beneath with a looming shadow.

Particles of ash fluttered through the air like autumn leaves twirling in the wind, and in the distance, Eivor saw nothing but a shroud of fire obscuring the horizon beyond.

As for the man himself, he seemed to have calmed down somewhat compared to when Sigurd first arrived. A glimmer of hope had returned to the blankness of his empty gaze, but a grim veil of despair still clung onto his expression. He had lost every shred of the motivation that once fueled him, and even now, the pain of losing a loved one to an arranged marriage continued to pester him.

“...Kjotve ruined my life that night, you know.” Eivor said, devoid of any emotion. “He took away my family, my home -- everything that I loved. The only life I ever knew was stolen from me in an instant, and the whole world shifted into something that I no longer recognized.” The young man peered at his companion, still leaning against the wall. “...He must die, Sigurd. Not just for me, but for everyone he’s hurt.”

The prince rested an elbow on his knee. “Kjotve’s judgement will come. The gods know of his cruelty just as we do. The Nornir will cut his thread soon enough.”

“Then let’s pray that I live long enough to witness that day.”

Taking a second to gather himself, Eivor broke free from the cage barring his mind for just a moment and looked Sigurd in the eye, returning to the same man the prince knew so well.

“...Anyway. Thank you for coming to check on me, Sigurd.” He whispered. “I appreciate it. I apologize if I was somewhat... harsh earlier. I’m just so lost right now.”

Sigurd wasn’t bothered. “I understand. We all have a breaking point. Even you. What’s important is that you don’t let it hold you down forever.”

“I know,” he acknowledged. “But sometimes, the temptation to give up is almost irresistible. The idea of being able to forget about all this, and live my life without fear or conflict -- it’s something that grows more alluring by the day. But I know I can’t let myself fall prey to these thoughts. I need to stay focused. I need to keep fighting. Even if it leads me into the Valkyries’ arms.”

Sigurd leaned closer to Eivor and placed a hand over his, mindlessly stroking it as if it were second nature.

“Well, wherever this path takes us, just remember that I’m here for you. You’ve saved my life multiple times already. It’s the least I can do.”

Suddenly realizing what he was doing, the prince came to an abrupt pause and instantly retreated his hand, silently cursing himself for not putting a leash on his affections. He backed away from Eivor and averted his eyes, stumbling over his next words.

“...F-Forgive me. I didn’t mean to--”

“--It’s alright.” Eivor interrupted. “You don’t have to explain.”

A deep sigh escaped Sigurd’s lips. “I just don’t understand why it’s so difficult to ignore the way I feel. I’m a married man now. Shouldn’t that be enough to hinder my fondness for you? Why does this always happen?”

The younger man offered some advice. “The best thing you can do right now, Sigurd, is to avoid me entirely. We both know how challenging it is to conceal our true thoughts. Perhaps we shouldn’t give them the chance to cross our minds at all.”

“But I can’t just pretend like you don’t exist. I still want you in my life, Eivor. I still want to be near you. We may not have the option of being together like before, but you’re not somebody I want to forget.”

Eivor’s face dimmed with sorrow. “Well, you may have to. For the sake of this alliance. Things are precarious enough as it is. We can’t risk anyone else finding out about our previous encounters.”

Sigurd disagreed. “You’re important to me. Nothing’s going to change that, no matter how much I may have to restrain myself. I just wish things were easier.”

The older man decided to put this conversation to an early end and rose from the ground, not wanting to let his emotions fester any longer.

“Anyway... I should get going. I imagine Ulfar’s still speaking with the jarl, and I’d like to join him. Do you want to come with me?”

Eivor refused the offer. “I’d rather be alone right now. I’ve had enough of discussing war and politics for one day.”

“Of course, I understand. You must be exhausted. Take this time to get some rest. I’ll tell you the outcome of our discussions later.” Sigurd took a few steps away from the Wolf-Kissed, leaving him alone on the ground. “Well then, I guess I’ll see you around, Eivor. Please, stay safe. Now that we know Kjotve is merely a stone’s throw away from Bjornheimr, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

The young man remained seated on the grass. “The same goes for you, Sigurd. Be careful out there. You’re the last person I want to lose.”

“Oh, believe me,” Sigurd replied, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

[glimmerglanger]

your sentinel/guide au blurb made me gasp i am Very Intrigued

:DDDD I have been working on it, off and on, when I need breaks from the oof!au. Here is... another not-so-short blurb? Not chronologically right after the last one. They’ve made it off of Geonosis and back to Coruscant, in this.

~~~~~~~~~

Obi-Wan felt his men’s sharp-edged attention, a predator’s awareness, in the back of his head as he pushed the door to the private meeting room in the Senate open in time to overhear, “--obviously a defect. They malfunctioned and will need to be replaced if you want the Republic to hold to the contract--”

“Excuse me,” Obi-Wan cut in, teeth on edge and tension in his nerves. He’d thought he’d prepared himself for whatever he was going to find in this - this meeting to discuss his sentinels, but the sight of a Kaminoan speaking with select members of the Senate, calling his men defective, made him want to reach for his lightsaber. He didn’t. “What, exactly, is going on here?”

“Ah,” the Chancellor said, eyes narrowing, just for an instant, as he looked towards Obi-Wan. “Master Kenobi. I’m not sure your presence at this meeting is appropriate, it you don’t--”

“You’re discussing my sentinels, aren’t you?” he asked, taking another step forward, comforted by the feeling of his men at his back. “I think that makes our presence necessary, does it not?”

The Chancellor cast him a look of concern. Perhaps pity. He said, “We were discussing the performance of the troopers on Geonosis, yes. Their actions bespeak major defects, and--”

“They most certainly do not,” Obi-Wan fought for even modulation of his voice and got it, raising his chin, the blatant mistruth biting into him. “You may ask anyone familiar with sentinels and receive a clear-cut explanation for what happened. Entry into a feral state would be expected, based on how they came online. They...reacted as best they could. And they all came out of it, after the battle.”

He’d made sure of that, tended to the survivors, mourned for each he’d lost; each death had been agonizing, almost beyond belief, as he lost pieces of himself, one after another. He was not sure he would have survived the experience - guides often didn’t - without the rest, without the knowledge that they needed him, and that he wouldn’t fail them.

The Chancellor smiled at him. Placating. “And how,” he said, “do you believe these individuals ‘came online?’ The Kaminoans tell me there was nothing in Jango Fett’s genetic code to indicate that he was a sentinel, after all.”

Obi-Wan cast the Kaminoan representative a look. He said, drily, “And I’m sure they didn’t tamper with that genetic code at all. Or did you?”

The woman’s look was answer enough, but she said, inclining her head, “We did modify them. The sentinel genetic profile has benefits for many humanoid species. But we believed we’d managed to avoid the gene sequences that would allow them to… activate. It appears we were mistaken.”

“That’s hardly been determined, yet,” Palpatine said, with a soothing smile, and Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes.

“Has it not?” he asked. “If you doubt, do not worry. I’ve already filed motions with the Institute. They shall all receive certification, not that such things are usually required when a sentinel presents due to a direct threat to their guide.”

“Ah, yes,” Palpatine said, his smile twitching on his mouth. “Your claim regarding your status as...guide.”

“My claim,” Obi-Wan said, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t believe I’ve made any claims.”

Beside him, Anakin sighed. Obi-Wan ignored him for the moment, watching Palpatine instead, unnerved by how rarely the man blinked. “You recant your assertion that you are - somehow - the guide to over two million men, then?” he asked.

Obi-Wan sighed. He felt the headache he’d carried around for days growing worse. “That’s not a claim,” he said, keeping his shoulders back and his tone even. “Only fact.”

“Master Kenobi,” a Mon Calamari representative said, taking a step forward, her soft hands folded in front of her. “What you say...it cannot be possible.”

Obi-wan looked across at her, meeting her gaze without hesitation. He said, one side of his mouth twitching, “And yet it is so. I will submit to whatever testing of the bonds you wish to carry out. But I am their guide. And they are mine.”

Such words of possession felt strange and impossibly right, all at the same time. He knew, without doubt or hesitation, that they were his, each and every one of them. To deny it would have taken an ability to lie that he lacked. Palpatine cleared his throat.

“I don’t think any of us want to cause you the embarrassment such a public spectacle would lead to, after the tests confirm what we know to be true” he said. “Let us set aside this foolishness, before--”

“It is not foolishness,” Obi-Wan cut in, a shock of anger moving through his mind, not from him. From his sentinuels, the four who had accompanied him. Something about Palpatine’s kind smile made the hair stand up on his neck. He drew in a breath and looked back at the representatives, “Set up whatever tests you think are just. Inform me when they’re ready.” He inclined his head towards them, and added, “Perhaps you should also prepare a motion for the Senate. It seems they have passed a motion to conscript sentinels into unlawful service.”

He felt a little jerk from Palpatine’s emotions, and cut his gaze towards the man. “The motion was not unlawful,” Palpatine said, smoothly, “while your compassion is a credit to you, Master Kenobi, they do not have the rights of full--”

“They have the rights of sentinels,” Obi-Wan cut in, again, a flare of heat down his spine, and a simmering warmth of knowing he’d achieved a victory before the first volley of battle was completed. “I’m sure you’re fully versed in those, Chancellor, but if not, the Institute should be able to inform you. If you’ll excuse me.”

He turned on his heel, because he could feel rising agitation from the sentinels at his back. Responding to his worry, he realized, after a moment, and grimaced with shame. He’d have to do better. He couldn’t very well have his emotions affecting so many. 

Obi-Wan’s thoughts were thrumming with what steps he’d need to take next - he had no idea how many complaints he needed to file with the Institute, but he fully intended to file them all - and what preparations he’d need to make for the tests, and he startled when Anakin fell into step beside him, sighing, “Master, you really shouldn’t argue with the Chancellor like that.”

“I’m not arguing with him,” Obi-Wan said, shrugging. He wasn’t arguing with anyone. Just trying to make them understand the situation they’d all found themselves in.

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Yes, you are. And you’re being ridiculous. You can’t possibly believe what you’re saying. Two million sentinels, Master?”

“Possibly more,” Obi-Wan said, because he saw no reason to continue trying to explain when everyone seemed determined not to believe him. Besides, the people who mattered did. Something lightened in his chest at that thought, and he glanced to the side, to smile at Mav.

Anakin made an unhappy little sound, matching his speed and then reaching out to grab his arm, pulling him to a stop, saying, “Obi-Wan, listen, you’re barely a guide, how--”

The words were an echo of a thousand old taunts; Obi-Wan had made his peace with such things long ago, when he’d believed they were true. His men, apparently, had not. He felt the flare of anger even as they moved forward at once.

Mav got there first - he was the closest, anyway - hand fisting in the front of Anakin’s robe and shoving him back one step and then another, until he hit the wall. “What,” Mav snapped out, eyes dark and furious, “the kriff did you just say?”

[collabwithmyself]

1-1: Turnabout Transpire

"Geez, Miles, you sure know how to pick 'em."

Miles Edgeworth cleared his throat, feeling his face begin to burn. "I, erm."

"You sure you're up for this, buddy?" His Uncle Raymond leaned in to inspect him closely, one eyebrow cocked. "It's a lot to handle, y'know."

"I'm perfectly confident in my abilities," he asserted, pushing up his spectacles to try and mask the way his hands were shaking. "I know it's a little ambitious to be taking a murder case when I've only just received my badge--"

"Huh?" Ray blinked, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Course you can take on a murder charge, I'm talking about him."

Miles followed his gaze to the sobbing man in orange, who was currently clutching a disgruntled guard standing by the entrance connecting the defense lobby to the courtroom.

"Ah."

"What was it you said everyone always said? "If something smells...""

Miles shook his head. "Larry may be... emotional, but he's no murderer. He never honestly means harm. He's going to be fine."

Larry was currently wailing at the top of his lungs that he was going to die, which really didn't help his case. Uncle Ray lifted his other brow, as if to say, he's YOUR client, and Miles heaved a sigh before straightening his bowtie and marching over.

"Come on, Larry, stop pestering the guard."

"Edgey!" Larry's face was flushed with grief, and his eyes and nose leaked an amount that was as impressive as it was disgusting. "You believe me, right?! I'd never lay a hand on my sweet Cindy! I'm not a murderer, I swear!"

"I know. That's why I agreed to defend you."

Larry made a high-pitched noise that Miles could best describe as a whine, then buried his snotty face in Miles's overcoat. "Just lock me up, man! I'm gonna die!"

"NGOOH!" Miles stumbled backwards at the sheer amount of force the wiry man displayed. "Kindly do not use my clothes as your own personal handkerchief!"

He felt little sympathy when Larry gave him an agonized look, like Miles had personally betrayed him somehow. He folded his arms. "And quit talking like that," he huffed. "You're not going to die. Have you that little faith in me?"

Larry blinked. Then, like a switch had been flipped, he broke into a watery grin. "H-Hey, you're right! I've got the best attorney in the world in my corner, right?!"

While he felt himself blush at the praise, Miles allowed himself to preen a little. Whatever got Larry to stop screeching... "Naturally. Nothing but the best for my best friend."

To his horror, Larry pulled him into another wet hug, bursting into tears all over again. "You're the best, Edgeeeeeyyy!"

"NGOOOOOOH!"

Uncle Ray clapped him on the shoulder sympathetically. "Alright, alright, I love hugs as much as the next guy, but we do have to prep for court. You remember what you're doing, right?"

"Of course I do," Miles said quickly, sensing that a dreaded pop quiz was brewing.

Ray paid him no mind and chugged along anyway. "Alright, first question! Who's the defendant? Me, you, or Larry?"

"Larry," Miles grumbled, furious that he was playing along, but seeing no faster way out of the situation.

"Bingo!" Ray beamed. "And what's the name of the victim? Cinder Block, Cindy Stone, or Sydney Harbor?"

Miles made a noise of disgust low in his throat. "Cindy Stone! Those other two aren't even names--"

"Two for two! Alright, last question, how'd the victim die? Strangulation, electrocution, or exsanguination?"

"Hmph." Miles shook his head. "I'm not nine anymore, Uncle Ray, you can't honestly expect me to still fall for those trick questions of yours. Miss Stone died of blunt force trauma."

His Uncle Ray wiped away an imaginary tear. "My boy's all grown up," he sniffed dramatically.

"Oh, not you too," he griped, but the irritation was half-hearted at best.

Unfortunately, discussing the details of his late girlfriend's murder had the effect of setting off Larry all over again. He let out a noise like an air raid siren, then shoved his snotty face into Miles's back, flinging his gangly arms around him.

His uncle snickered when he rolled his eyes. "Hey, he's got the right idea, I think. Hug for luck?"

"Don't you dare," Miles snapped, but Ray was already stepping forward with his arms outstretched, and he was promptly sandwiched between the sparse members of what he'd come to consider his family.

Miles bit back a groan of protest and let himself relax a little. He wouldn't have terribly minded this if they weren't in public and Larry wasn't sniveling all over his father's overcoat, but that was just the way life went sometimes.

They stood there for a good minute, Larry hiccuping into one shoulder and Ray patting the other, and then the guard cleared their throat. "Uh, it's about time," they said, and Miles sighed as he was released.

"Alright, see you in there, then, Mr. Butz!" Ray flashed Larry a bright smile that he managed to shakily return along with a thumbs up. "You ready, Miles?"

Miles nodded firmly. "As I'll ever be."

⁂

Court went better than he'd hoped. Yes, Larry was... well, Larry, and attempted to lie on the stand at some point, frightened he'd be in trouble, but the judge thankfully chose not to penalize him for perjury. The prosecutor, whose name he couldn't quite remember, had constructed a rather shoddy case, and as it turned out, the witness he'd chosen had in fact been the true culprit.

Everything happened almost too quickly, and in no more than an hour, the trio was in the defense lobby again in much the same position they'd been in earlier - Larry sobbing into Miles, and Ray caught between sympathy and amusement.

"There, there, Mr. Butz, it's gonna be alright..."

"She was the love of my life, man! And she-- she cheated on me!"

It was rather harsh of Miss Stone, Miles thought, to suddenly cut contact with Larry like that. As oblivious as the man was, he didn't deserve to be flat-out ghosted. He saw no point in reassuring Larry the woman had cared for him deep down; in his personal opinion, his friend was better off without her. Sure, she hadn't deserved to die for it, but...

He awkwardly reached up and patted Larry's shoulder. "It's... going to be all right," he managed, repeating his uncle's words.

Larry snorted a booger back up into his nose. Miles shuddered. "Y... You think so?"

Unsure how to answer, he nodded.

Larry gave him a weepy smile. "Thanks for looking out for me, man. You were incredible in there! Just like old times!"

"Old times?"

"Yeah, remember in fourth grade, when you lost your lunch money? And Nick was..."

Larry trailed off, and Miles felt a cold knot settle in his gut. The two refused to look at each other. The air in the room suddenly felt much heavier.

Ray cleared his throat a little too loudly. "Hey, this is a cause for celebration, right? Let's head out, my treat."

"Thank you, Uncle Ray," Miles sighed. "That was an exciting morning, but I'm quite ready to move on with my day."

[wonderwafles]

Kiss prompt: Tallulah/Caliban, #17?

Funnily enough, you caught me in the midst of writing a fic about them already! Your prompt fit in perfectly. (Now on AO3!)

...

The rain pouring down turned the roads into mud-slick quagmires that threatened to pull him down and never let him go again, which Caliban-8 figured was really just as well, today of all days.

The Hall of Consensus awaited ahead, framed by low buildings and the dark clouds above. He stood at a street corner, the eyes of several civilians on him (he was, after all, famous-by-proxy) and straightened up. He looked devastated, out in the rain. Just as well.

The doors of the Consensus now stood before him. He schooled his features, raised his hand, and knocked.

Consensus was in session; he wasn’t supposed to knock. But this news could not wait.

The doors opened, by the hand of a minor Faction representative — for which, he couldn’t remember. Perhaps there had been a change, since the last time he was in the City.

“Ah,” he said, looking him up and down. “And you are…?”

“Caliban-8,” he said. His voice grated like broken glass in the aftermath of tears. Most people did not think Exos could cry, and yet, by some quirk or feature of their design…

The man still looked confused. Caliban sighed. “Second in command to Talullah Fairwind,” he added.

A few more agonizing moments of silence, making Caliban’s job much harder than it needed to be, before a gruffer voice from behind the door made them both jump.

“Hello, Caliban,” Osiris said. “Open the door, man, open the door! This one has come from long and far to meet us again.”

As with anything Osiris said, there might have been a rebuke buried in there somewhere. It was one of the things that always caused strife between Osiris and Tallulah, who hated the idea of someone talking out of both sides of their mouth at her. Today of all days, Caliban did not ask.

“Osiris,” he greeted the Warlock as he stepped inside.

“I received your message,” Osiris replied, straightforward as ever. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance you come bearing good news?”

Caliban looked around. At the table in the center of the Consensus, the surrounding audience having depleted to only a few stragglers and many empty chairs, Saint-14, the Speaker, and three Consensus leaders sit. A session is in full swing. Part of that must be his fault, for the news he had all but told Osiris he had.

He decided to turn away from Osiris, and make his way down the stairs. “Thank you, my friends,” he said. (Politician speech, but he feels it truly.) “It’s true that I have some bad news.”

Saint turned away, just so. The Speaker is inscrutable behind the mask. Caliban can tell they already know what he’s going to say.

“A couple of days ago, Tallulah Fairwind was killed,” he said. His voice broke at the appropriate moment. He didn’t even need to try. “An Ahamkara got to her. She…”

He took a moment to compose himself, and to remember his instructions.

“She took on a bet with the dragon in order to save a distant village,” Caliban continued. He looked around. All eyes were on him, including what few spectators there were. The rain pounded outside, noiseless and deafening. He closed his eyes, blocked them all out. “She lost the game. She argued that instead of the village, the price should be her life. The dragon accepted.”

He opened them again as he heard the scraping of a chair. In an instant, Saint had wrapped his arms around Caliban, tightening around him like servos in a steel trap.

“My friend,” Saint said. “I am truly sorry to hear this news.”

“As am I,” Osiris said, laying his hand on Caliban’s shoulder. “Tallulah was… a true friend. And a fierce defender of the City’s people, not just its doctrine.”

“I bet she went down like a hero,” Sagira added. “Like always.”

Consolation was murmured across the table. The Faction leaders — he recognized New Monarchy and the War Cult, but who was that third one? — joined in.

Eventually, it all died down, and Saint finally released him. Only the Speaker was left sitting at the head of the table. He had not risen, nor did he say anything while the others spoke.

Now, however, his soft voice drifted throughout the room. “I am sorry, Caliban,” he said. “It was… I first met Tallulah in what feels like the bleakest part of the Dark Age. She was such an excellent Hunter. I thought there was no better choice for the position of Vanguard. I still feel that way now.”

Caliban nodded. He couldn’t help but agree, even knowing how much Tallulah longed to be free. And what she would do to get there.

The Speaker’s mask tilted down slightly, towards what Caliban had in his hands. “I suppose she has named you her successor?”

Caliban held up Tyranny of Heaven. “Her Dare was that whoever got her bow would replace her,” he said, speaking carefully, telling no lies. “She gave it to me just before the end.”

It was a fine piece of work, silvered and made by a hand that almost seemed alien in its precision and beauty. Caliban had always said that it was the first, and only, nice thing that Tallulah owned.

“Look,” New Monarchy’s man said, standing up. “This is grave news, and the City has a long time of mourning ahead of it. But I feel I must say, as a member of the Consensus, that this whole Dare thing is ridiculous. And if Tallulah intended to choose her successors based on Hunter bravado—”

“We’ve had this discussion before, Executor,” the Speaker said. “Mandating a Hunter Vanguard would only serve to drive any potential candidates further away. In any case,” now inclining his head towards Caliban, “we have a very clear-cut scenario here. Tallulah has named her successor. If she trusts him, then so do I.”

Uh oh.

Caliban swallowed, a vestigial tic from the time before the creation of the Exos. All eyes turned to him again. Now was the hardest part. “I’m afraid I have to decline,” he told them all.

Before they could say anything, he pressed forward. “The dragon is still out there, and still a threat,” he said. “I feel… bound to hunt it. To make sure that nothing like this happens again. And I am aware that would conflict with my duties as Vanguard.”

“This does not need your hand, Caliban, skilled though it is,” Saint said, full of patience and grief. “This dragon… we could start a search party. You could lead them, from the City.”

Caliban had always hated Hunter bravado. But now, at least, it made for a good cover. He summoned up every inch of acting ability he had, as well as every ounce of resolve he could muster, and broke his friend’s heart.

“I am bound to this,” he insisted. Real grief filled his voice as he looked around the Consensus. So many friends to say goodbye to. So much left undone here. “The Ahamkara was mine and Tallulah’s responsibility. And now it is only mine. I would not risk any other Guardians to clean up my mess.”

Saint and Osiris bowed their heads. They understood duty. The others… it was hard to get a bead on them.

“Fine,” the Speaker said, a twinge of anger making its way into his voice. “Go, then, and have your vengeance, so long as you leave us another successor to replace a lost friend.”

Caliban cringed. A thread of razor wire tightened around his heart, and he almost thought about calling it all off, telling them all the truth they deserved to know. But not now. Not now that he’d already passed a million event horizons.

“Be kind, Speaker,” Osiris said. “I understand what he’s doing. And I sympathize with it entirely.”

Osiris met Caliban’s eye, and something in there made the Hunter think that he had entirely underestimated the old Warlock.

“Kauko Swiftriver,” Caliban said, as the silence deepened. “He’s a good man. He’ll take up the job, I know it.”

“Good man indeed,” Saint said. “And what of the Dare?”

Caliban thought deeply about this. He couldn’t offer Kauko the bow. And his conscience couldn’t take it if he Dared his friend to do something dangerous just to cover for him.

Then, the answer crashed over him like a waterfall. “I will Dare him to tell everyone here my greatest secret,” Caliban said. And smiled. It was the first time since he had gotten to the Consensus that he felt like smiling. “You all will get your Vanguard.”

…

“That’s a damn evil choice your boy gave me, Tallulah,” Kauko Swiftriver said.

Tallulah laughed, and brushed the hair out of her face. She had decided to wear it loosely now, in honor of new freedom. “I told you,” she said. “He has a dark side.”

Kauko scoffed. “Yeah. Maybe you’ve been getting to him.”

“I’ve been getting to him for a while now.” Tallulah smirked. “But hey. Don’t be too upset. It’s not such a bad life, you know. Saint and Osiris are good people. Just prepare to be the biggest third wheel in the history of third wheels.”

“I think I know what that’s like,” Kauko said. But he smiled. “Fine, fine. Anything for you, Fairwind. Just… be safe out there. And yeah, I know what I said. I mean it. It’s retirement. Enjoy it.”

“I’ll try,” she replied. “Thanks, Kauko. For real. Stay in touch?”

“Sure thing.”

Wishful thinking, maybe. But neither of them said anything else as the terminal blinked out, and Tallulah was left alone in the tiny ship with her thoughts.

Not alone for long, however.

“That,” Caliban accused from the other end of the ship, “was horrible.”

“Cal!” Tallulah brightened up. She couldn’t help it. “Was wondering if you’d skipped out on me!”

But her spirits fell as she saw his face. For a second, a horrible fear that he had changed his mind washed over her, and for a moment she had no idea what she was going to do.

“Was it that bad?” she asked, keeping her voice casual, making her way over to him.

“Saying goodbye to your friends is always hard,” he said. He shook his head. “But I wouldn’t have agreed to do it if I didn’t want to go with you. I just… I hated having to lie to them.”

She sighed. Sometimes, he knew her better than she knew herself. “I know, buddy,” she said. Nothing at all came to mind to make him feel better. “How can I make it up to you?”

Caliban sighed, and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Really?” she said, returning the hug. “You’re aware you’re turning down a favor from the one and only Tallulah Fairwind, Hunter extraordinaire? One time offer of me owing you, never to be admitted again?”

Caliban smiled into the crook of her shoulder. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said. “I know how this life was getting to you, getting to both of us. I’d do it again in a heartbeat if you asked me to.”

I owe you everything, she thought. Everything, every day, for all the days there ever will be. Sometimes the thought of this truth staggers her, nearly knocks her to the floor.

“Tell you what,” Tallulah said, separating from the hug. “If, in a hundred years, Saint and Osiris are still standing, we’ll pop back to the City and explain ourselves. I bet that’s enough time for them to stop being angry with us.”

Caliban laughed. “You promise?” he asked.

Always, always, always. “Let’s seal it,” Tallulah said, and pulled him closer. Caliban leaned inward and returned the kiss, and for a second it didn’t even matter that their cramped jumpship had Caliban stooping even before the kiss, or that they were leaving behind everything they had ever known for a chance at something better.

Caliban broke away and laughed. “Okay, okay, I believe you,” he said.

“Then let’s get gone before Osiris figures us out,” she said. She went over and sat in the cockpit, keying the engine.

“Nice ship, on such short notice,” Caliban said. “I don’t suppose it has anything to do with the fact that the representative of the new Faction, which just recently rocketed out of obscurity to gain a seat on the Consensus, wears the same logo as the one on the hull?”

Tallulah winked. “Probably just a coincidence,” she said.

“Sure. Last question, then. Do you know where we’re going?”

“I do indeed, so you can stop that tone of voice. I was talking to this Iron Lord pal of mine—”

“All the Iron Lords are dead!”

“Hey, hey! Let me finish the story...”

[kunderdogs]

Subtle

Simon Dominic (AOMG) x Reader ft Jay Park Genre: Romance Count: 2.5k Warnings: Fluff / Some swearing Rating: PG-13  Requested: Yes

This was actually really fun to write. I love writing Jay Park ;)

Park Jaebum swivled in his black chair, eyeing his artist and friend with a suspicous eye. While it wasn't rare that Simon Dominic would come to him for advice on things, it was very rare that this advice would be about women. Kiseok had his fair share of relationships and hookups so he wasn't totally sure why the older man was looking particularly nervous right now.

"You want...relationship advice?" Jay asked, just to clarify. He wasn't exactly the poster-child for long, stable relationships and from what he remembered, Kisoek was about five months deep into a relationship at this point.

Scratching his cheek, Simon looked to the wall. God, this was so awkward. Asking his girlfriend's older brother about love advice while said brother had no knowledge of his little sister's involvement with one of his oldest, closest friends.

In his defense, it was you that had wanted to keep it quiet from Jay. You know how he got when it came to you, his baby sister - the baby of the family. He was a typical brother. Over protective and some times blinded by the sibling love to see that you were an adult now and could make your own decisions. He had fought you tooth and nail when you decided to come to Korea and be an actress, especially since your skin was darker and you didn't look like the typical Korean actress. His words were truthful but they still hurt. It took a lot of tears (on your part) for him to get over his personal feelings and support you.

So you were not in any rush to tell him about your relationship with Jung Kiseok, someone who he considered a best friend. Kiseok was also much older than you, so you were sure Jay would burst at the seams when he found out.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, hated sneaking behind his friend's back like this. He felt like he was hiding you and that wasn't something he appreciated doing, to your or to himself. He had immense loyalty towards Jay as well so if this damaged the younger's trust in him, Kiseok wasn't sure if he could stand that. He'd known Jay for so many years that if he told him to break up with you, Kiseok wasn't confident in saying he wouldn't do just that.

Clearing his throat, Simon sat up straighter on the studio couch and faced Jay for the first time since he walked in. "Yeah. I want to meet my girl's family but she thinks we should wait a little longer. Because she's younger, she feels like her older b-...sister wouldn't approve."

Hearing the seriousness in the older man's tone caused Jay put his phone in his lap and give him his full attention. "Maybe she doesn't think you're serious about her? It's only been a few months."

Kiseok let out a breath and leaned back, muscles still tense. "I've liked her for about a year but I didn't want to approach her due to her...family. I'm serious about her, definitely, but I want to prove to her family that, despite the age difference, I genuinely care for her."

Jay watched him for an agonizing second before smiling widely. "Aw, that is so cute. You're in love~." He sang, only causing color to bloom over Kiseok's cheeks.

"Well- I- Yes, but I need options to show her family that I do," he defended as he stood slowly, "But if you're going to tease I can easily ask Loco-"

Jay scoffed, "You'd go to Loco for advice? He basically self combusts when Hwasa so much as looks in his direction."

Kiseok sat back down with a chuckle. Very true. Loco was a mess when it comes to his love life.

"Anyway," Jay continued like he didn't just shade his younger friend, "You should go meet with the sister, away from your girlfriend and tell her your intentions. If you get the one that opposes it the most on your side, the other family members would be easier to come around."

Taking a moment to think about, Kiseok agreed with a nod. "What if h-...she doesn't want to hear what I have to say?"

Noticing the hitch in his voice, Jay shrugged, "If you're serious about this girl then she'll listen. It's her sister, so of course she's going to want to meet you and see who you are. Go to a semi-public restaurant so she has to listen to you, without yelling."

Kiseok felt now would be a good time to make his move, but coming out right didn't sit well with him so instead, he nervously gulped and used the last of his will to ask, "What would you say to that?"

Jay interpreted it different than what Simon expected but he pondered it for a second before snapping his fingers. "Let's try this- I'll be the sister and you try to convince me to support the relationship. What's the age difference though?"

Feeling the panic rise to dangerous levels in his body, Kiseok did his hardest to hide his inner feelings before clearing his throat again. "It's um, more than six years."

Jay blinked at the new information but shrugged again. "She is an adult, right? How old is she?"

"She's um, twenty-six right now."

Feeling his shoulders relax, Jay took a breath. "Oh, she's the same age as Y/N? Okay, that's not too bad. Gosh, you got me worried you were dating some eighteen year old or something..."

Chuckling in nervousness, he was thankful that Jay was too distracted by getting into his character as the "sister" to notice how jumpy Kiseok became when he mentioned your name. They agreed that Jay would play the older sister coming to meet him at a restaurant so Jay stood and walked in the door, swinging his hips in an exaggerated motion as well as held his hand out like he was carrying a purse.

Jay slid onto the couch opposite of the older man and crossed one leg over the other. "So," he began in a high-pitched voice to mimic a woman’s. "You're the famous Simon Dominic my little sister is dating?"

Somehow, even with Jay pretending to be a girl, this all felt too real to Kiseok. He was nervously pulling at his collar before he could reign himself in. "I-...Yes. I'm Jung Kiseok, thank you for meeting me here..."

Jay blew his pretend manicure in boredom. "Let's cut to the chase." Within a few seconds, his dark eyes narrowed on him. "How can you date a woman so many years younger than you? Have you no shame?"

Absolutely caught off guard, Kiseok stuttered to respond, which made Jay break character and raise an eyebrow at how unsure the usually confident rapper was. Either way, he let the older man stumble to respond. "Your sister and I have real feelings for each other. I know you're concerned for the age difference and I also had my own reservations but getting to know her over these last few months made me realize my feelings for her are very much real. I would like your approval to continue dating her."

Back in character, Jay huffed with his nose in the air. "There are hundreds of men worthy of my sister, her age as well! What makes you think you deserve her? Just because you're a celebrity doesn't mean every woman has to fall at your feet!"

The sincerity in Simon's eyes as he spoke next took Jay aback a bit. "When I'm with her, I'm not Simon Dominic. I'm Jung Kiseok and she doesn't treat me any differently because of my status. I can be who I really am with her. When I wake up, all I want is to see her and hear her voice. When I'm having a bad day, she's the first person I run to...When I'm having a good day, she's usually the reason. Her smile is the most breath-taking thing I've ever seen."

Just seeing how starry-eyed Kiseok was getting talking about his girl made Jay smile a bit. He really liked this girl, whoever she was. "I know, she's my sister! That doesn't tell me about your intentions with her. I won't give my approval to just anyone."

Kiseok made sure to keep eye contact and if there were any traces of humor before, it was all gone by now. For some reason, Jay could feel the air around them take an even more serious turn. "Your sister makes me the happiest version of myself. We've only been together for a few months and even though I wanted to tell you when we first began dating, I respected her wishes to wait to tell you. Out of all the woman I've met, I've never wanted to spend my entire life with someone until now. It's too early to speak of marriage with her but I have every intention of asking for her hand, down the road."

Jay felt defensive, but he wasn't sure why. Maybe because he had a little sister who was the same age, but suddenly his voice was back to normal. "She has her whole life ahead of her and you two are at different stages of life. Wouldn't you want someone your own age?"

Kiseok heard his heart bumping a thousand beats per minute. It felt as if he were talking with Jay now, not the pretend scenario they conjured up. This was getting too real at this moment. "I've tried to convince her and myself that it would better for us not to date because of our age but after some discussion, we're both at the same point in life. I do want to settle down soon but I have a lot I want to do, career wise, and so does she. Right now, getting to know each other is our priority. All I know is that I can't live without her in my life right now. I love her."

Keeping the eye contact, Jay noticed that they weren't talking about the same person at this point. His eyes searched the older's face for a minute before he broke character entirely.

Siting back on the couch, the young CEO took a deep breath and had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about his own baby sister. Your smiling face flashed in his mind. He had a small suspicion...so small it could be written off as paranoia.

Either way, he had to ask. He had to know. "Who is this girl?" The tone he used boomed with authority and usually was able to make weaker men tremble.

However, Kiseok must've noticed how pensive he became and understood that Jay was coming to the realization. He didn't have any reaction at first, just blinked at the younger man. After a few tense moments, he exhaled deeply. "I think you know who we're talking about."

That was confirmation itself, without even having to out right say your name.

So, without further ado, the usually cool-headed CEO blew the fuck up.

Launching out of his chair, Jay's chocolate eyes were set on fire, glaring at the man before him. "You're dating my sister! Without telling me!"

With no intention to fight or argue, Kiseok looked up calmly to his friend. "In my defense, I wanted to tell you as soon as we had our first date."

"My sister!" Jay nearly screamed, the realization finally dawning on him. "Y/N?! My own sister, behind my back?! What the fuck!"

Without much to say, he let Jay get it all out of his system. It looked as if he was in denial at first but after a few minutes of thick silence, he fell back onto the couch with a defeated look. It looked as if he'd aged ten years in the past ten minutes.

A hand rubbed down his face. "You're the man she's been telling me about? Damn it."

This peaked his curiosity and he couldn't help but ask, "She talked to you about me?"

Jay glared weakly at how eager he sounded but couldn't stay mad at his friend. "She mentioned she was interested in a guy in the industry, a few years older than her who sent her flowers every day for the duration of her movie shooting. I told her to pursue it if she kept babbling about him...You, I guess."

Trying to fight the smirk, he failed miserably. So Jay was the person who'd basically told you to date him? Everything really came full circle, didn't it? Seeing how utterly confused the young CEO looked, Kiseok took this time to tease him. "You know...if you hadn't told her to pursue a relationship with me...she wouldn't have agreed to our first date. So, you're directly responsible for us dating."

"I didn't know it was you she was talking about!" Jay defended, but quickly deflated once again. "Although, even if I knew it was you...I don't think I would've been opposed..."

"You wouldn't have?" The doubt in Kiseok's voice was too thick to cover up.

Jay crossed his arms, huffing like a child. "How can I oppose you two being together when you bought her flowers every day for months? Not to mention the whole k-drama worthy speech you just gave me..."

"So," Kiseok started gingerly, "Does this mean..?"

"That I approve?" Jay grumbled in his chest. "You're lucky I know the kind of man you are. If you'd been any other sleazy rapper I'd end this right now."

Kiseok felt oddly flattered. It didn't last long though.

"But," Jay continued, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Y/N is still my precious baby sister so if you hurt her in any way, if you fuck up, I'll be on your ass faster than you can apologize."

A weight lifted from his shoulders that he didn't even know was there. Jay was the biggest obstacle in your relationship so with his approval and him on your side, it would be easier for your family to come around, especially since they knew and loved Simon like he was apart of the family.

Jay stood, fingers unlocking his phone so he could call you. With the phone to his ear, he gave Kiseok one last once over, "Also, I don't want to hear about any...activities you two have."

Laughter followed the CEO out of the studio as he left a voicemail to meet him and "your little boyfriend" for lunch today.

[scxrlettwxtches]

wounded hearts | bang chan

Genre: angst/fluff, royal au

Warnings: mentions of violence

Word Count: ~2.3k

Description: When Chan saw caught you sneaking back into battle after he had specifically told you not to, he was less than pleased. Why couldn’t you just understand that he wanted nothing more than for you to be safe? 

A/N: bcs im a sucker for prince/knight dynamics :) :) as always, my ask box and my messages are open to anyone who wants to talk!! i’m always here, even when i’m not updating. love y’all! <3

The door swung open with a furious bang, alerting the maids in the room of the man’s presence. 

“Your Highness!” They stammered hasty greetings and bows, overwhelmed by the prince who had just walked in, still clad in full armor. His dark curls were soaked in sweat, and the expression on his face was murderous. 

“Everyone, get out,” his voice was low, deep, borderline threatening. 

The healer shifted uncomfortably, “Sire, the lady isn't completely-”

“It's fine, Yeri,” a feminine, yet strong, voice sounded from the back of the room, causing the prince to look up quickly. You were sprawled on a long sofa, seemingly relaxed, but Chan could tell that you were as wired as you would’ve been in battle. Your chestplate and shirt were both removed, leaving you in nothing but a tightly wound bandage around your upper body and some loose trousers. 

“But-”

“It's fine,” you repeated firmly before looking up at the prince with a piercing gaze. It was quiet and controlled, but there was no doubt of your fury, “He has a lot of explaining to do.” The healer hesitated for a second more before bowing her head and ushering the rest of the servants out, leaving the two of you alone. 

The silence between the two felt louder than the screams of pain that could be heard in the fighting below. Chan’s gaze was hard and steely, but yours was just as cold. 

“What the hell, Chan.”

“Y/N, I know you’re upset--”

“Upset?” you hissed disbelievingly as your temper flared, “Upset can’t even begin to cover it. You locked me in my room,” 

“It’s only until you’re heal-” 

“I'm fine!” you snarled, but you didn’t fling herself at him like she normally did. You didn’t get up in his face, yelling at him and making your point crystal clear until he understood your perspective. You stayed on the couch, a defeat that showed just how much you wound was bothering you, especially so after you had snuck out and aggravated it even further. 

“I'm okay. I should be out there,” you spat bitterly, pointing towards the window, where a war between powers was raging outside, “I should be there with you, watching your back and supporting your claim like any vice commander should.”

Chan’s battle hardened stare wavered, his resolve weakening every moment he lay eyes on your broken state. And, since you know him better than he knows himself, your eyes narrowed as you picked up on his hesitation.  

“What's wrong?”

The prince sighed, “What if Jaebum’s right? What if this was a pointless battle?”

You gaped at him, and your blank stare hurt more than any of your heated words could. Chan knew you believed in him more than anyone else in the world. He knew you had followed him into war when he raised the banner of revolution not because you cared about his claim to the throne, but because you cared about him. 

“Why would you say that?” You asked, your voice even softer than a whisper. 

“I don't know, maybe I think I should've never started this war in the first place.” Chan didn’t--couldn’t--meet your gaze as he continue, “All it has done is set the kingdom into civil war, and people are suffering because of this.”

“You must be joking. You’ve never bat an eye when we’ve lost battles before. Why is this time any different?” 

Chan squeezed his eyes shut at his best friend's accusing tone, but the hesitation was growing, festering beneath his skin as his brain replied that particular moment over and over, “I’m serious.”

“Have you forgotten what we promised to each other? Why we started a war with your goddamn family?”

“But maybe he's right. Jaebum-hyung was always-”

“Jaebum changed!” You snarled in frustration, about to sit up in anger, but a look of pain flashed across your face as the wound on your abdomen pulsed. Chan instinctively reached towards you at the sign of your agonized expression, and not even your glare could stop him this time.

He placed a hand near your wound and the other on the back of your neck in order to gently lower you back into a comfortable position. It was so difficult to look you in the eye, especially since he knew exactly what sort of face you would be making.

“I can't believe after everything, you take his side.”

Chan grit his teeth, still looking at the bandages around your stomach, “This isn't about sides.”

“We're in a war, Chan! Everything is about sides!” You pushed yourself up again, this time successfully. Chan looked up in surprise, words of concern on the tip of his tongue as you spoke, “I can't believe you. You lock me in my room like a misbehaving child, then I find out that you're abandoning what we've been fighting for-”

“You could've died!” Chan shouted, his voice echoing in the chamber. Your eyes widened in shock as your best friend cupped your face in his hands, the scene replaying in his head as he looked into your eyes. Your cry of pain as a spear punctured your side, his brother’s emotionless expression as you fell to the ground.

He buried his head in your bare shoulder, “You could've died,” Chan repeated softly, his voice breaking, “I almost lost you. If you hadn't moved, Jaebum would've-he would’ve killed you.”

“But he didn’t,” you shifted your arms to put one hand on his arm and the other through his damp hair, “You think you could get rid of me that easily?”

Chan’s heart did a painful lurch as he gripped your shoulders, “Don’t make jokes like that, please. I-i would never want to get rid of you. I can’t do this--I can’t lose you.” he pleaded, looking into your eyes to convey the brunt of how much he desperately needed you to be safe. Needed you by his side. 

“Channie, you won’t lose me,” you spoke softly, patting his cheek lightly, but the prince wasn’t reassured.

“You can’t make promises like that and then sneak back into battle with a hole in your stomach,” Chan argued, still remembering the way his heart had dropped to the floor when he saw you cutting down soldiers as if you weren’t ordered to be out of commission for at least two weeks. 

“I’m sorry, I won’t do that again,” you appeased his concern gently, “I was just worried about you. You’re always my utmost priority.”

“And you are mine,” Chan replied immediately, “so please look after yourself, if not for you then for my sanity.”

You didn’t reply for a long moment, but you eventually averted your eyes and nodded. Chan was far from convinced, but he knew this was the most he’d get from you. As his hands continued to rub gentle circles on your bare shoulders, you let your head fall back into the couch pillows, exhaling with effort.

Chan felt the panic rising again, “Are you alright? Is anything hurting?” he asked urgently. 

“Well, of course everything hurts,” you chuckled, although the light sheen of sweat on your face did nothing to calm the prince down, “But it’s nothing out of the ordinary. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

He gave you a quick look over, assessing the state of your wounds, “It can’t be comfortable on the couch.”

You did your best to shrug, “It’s not uncomfortable, but I prefer my bed.” 

Without another question, Chan slipped his hands around your waist and your legs, carrying you bridal style towards a luxurious bed on the other side of the room, ignoring the indignant sputters and death threats (“Put me down before-so help me God- I’ll shove my rapier up your ass!”). He placed you down with extreme gentleness, even going as far as to tuck you in, comfortably swathing you in thick blankets.

You sent him a suspicious look and puffed your cheeks out, “You’re being sort of weird.”

Chan froze at the side of his bed where he was in the process of pouring you some water, “What do you mean?”

“You‘re super nice today, even though I disobeyed your orders.”

“I just don’t feel like yelling at you today,” Chan replied tiredly, setting down the cup of water beside the bed, “I’ll take my leave and let you rest—”

“Ah, wait!” you scrambled clumsily, trapped by the covers, reaching out to grab his hand. Your fingers managed to snag his sleeve, but you had momentarily forgotten that you were supposed to exercise minimal movement, and a groan of pain left your lips.

Chan made a noise of annoyance, “Do you want to open your wounds again?” he snapped, immediately fussing around you to make sure you were comfortable. 

You raised both your arms towards him, “Stay with me, please?” you asked hopefully, looking up at him with eager eyes. Chan gulped. You were not playing fair. Puppy eyes were off limits. You’ve discussed this before. 

A short staring contest ensued before the prince gave a hopeless sigh, and walked away from the bed. You let out an offended noise of disbelief before realizing that he was unbuckling the straps of his armor. With a grunt, he pulled the heavy metal over his head and onto a nearby table, leaving him in a flowy, white shirt and black pants.

“What? I’m not lying down wearing that bulky crap,” Chan muttered grumpily, stomping back to the bedside with a slight blush across his face, and nudged you with a gentle force, “Scoot over a bit.” you smiled triumphantly, letting him maneuver you closer to the center of the bed.

Chan slipped under the covers beside you, pulling you towards him. You hummed contentedly as you lay your head on his shoulder, his arm snaking around you protectively. The two of you basked in the short peace you always found with each other, forgetting everything the screaming and the pain just for a little while.

“That night, I wasn’t lying when I said I loved you.”

Chan felt you tense immediately, “Channie...” you began hesitatingly, “you know we can’t.”

He recoiled slightly, the pain of your rejection like a dagger being slowly pushed into his heart, “Do you not feel the same?”

You bit your lip, eyes wavering, “You know it’s not that.”

“Then why?” he pressed, his hold on you tightening slightly, “What’s stopping us?”

“You’re a prince!” You exclaimed disbelievingly, “I’m your servant, Chan. I can be your confidante, your best friend, but never your lover.”

“We don’t have to live by the rules society has placed upon us,” Chan pleaded with you, but understanding your hesitation. You had served him ever since the two of you were mere children. It had been ingrained in your very being that you lived to serve him and only to serve him.

“I don’t care. I don’t care what people say. I don’t care what they think. To hell with all of it,” Chan whispered into your hair, “Nothing in the world can convince me that you’re not worthy of me, especially since I already know you’re more than anything I could ever ask for.” 

He gazed down at your smaller figure, brushing some stray hairs away from your face, “If we win—when we win—I want you to be there by my side. Not behind me as my servant, but beside me as my queen.” 

“Chan, you can’t be-”

“I am, Y/N,” he laughed, hand still gently caressing your cheek, “I am completely serious.”

You flushed in embarrassment, and swatted the prince’s chest, “You’re not!” you whined, “Stop laughing! This isn’t funny!” 

Chan chuckled at your despair, pinching your red cheeks before sobering, “Alright, alright. I am serious though,” he looked at you lovingly, the arm still around your shoulders pulling you closer, “When this is all over, marry me.”

You gaped at him in shock, “You’re just going to propose to me? Like this?”

“I’ve known you all my life, do you really need anything fancier?”

“Well—no, of course I don’t care about that stuff,” you agreed, and Chan couldn’t help but giggle. You had never caught on to the flamboyant proposals of the higher class, and he had been on the receiving end of your angry rants for years. By this point, he knew exactly what you liked, what you wanted from the person you loved.

You looked up at Chan, still struggling to comprehend what he had just said, “You mean this right?”

“I mean it now, and I’ll mean it for the rest of my life.”

“Can I at least have a ring?” you asked jokingly, but Chan was prepared.

He shifted in the bed to sit up, “It’s in my room,” he replied, hands ready to pull the covers away from him, “If you want it, I can grab it now. I’ve actually had the ring for years, but there was just never a right time and-“

“Oh, Channie,” you laughed, reaching up to pull him towards you, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips and sending Chan’s brain into overdrive. Your eyes sparkled as you gazed at him, “I was only kidding, I don’t need that to give you an answer.” 

“Sure,” Chan stared at her blankly, dazed from the unexpected kiss that lingered on his lips, causing you to grin. As you tugged as his shirt to pull him closer to you, Chan complied easily as your hands went to his face and his lips pressed against yours. Your fingers were calloused and bruised from endless fighting, but Chan never knew a more comforting feeling than when your fingers brushed his jawline delicately. 

He wrapped his arm around your waist, adjusting their position as to hold you as close as possible without aggravating your injuries. You ran your hands into his messy locks, smiling with a tenderness he’d rarely seen gracing your face as you said adoringly. 

“Of course I’ll marry you, Channie.” 

[thenewlarislynn]

The Sticky Web of Fate’s Strings

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU (Gender-neutral pronouns)

Word Count: approx. 3k

~~~

Soulmates, connected by the strings of Fate, shared a similar life force. In simpler terms, every time your soulmate was injured, from the tiniest scratch to a broken bone, the same thing would happen to you. 

Growing up, Bucky always found himself getting into scrapes trying to defend Steve. But every bruise, every scratch, he got on his own. Never once did a single bruise or cut appear that wasn’t his own. Even his sisters started showing some little cuts when they were only toddlers. Hell, half of Steve’s were from his soulmate.

Every time it was brought up, Bucky’s mom would try to reassure him, stating that maybe his soulmate was just very cautious or didn’t get hurt easily. But by the time he was in his 20s and there wasn’t even a sign, he knew his soulmate just wasn’t out there. That’s why he didn’t hesitate when signing up for the war, knowing there wasn’t anyone out there he’d be leaving behind. That’s also why when he fell from the freightcar, there wasn’t any fear, only acceptance at what the Fates had dealt him. HYDRA didn’t mind the fact he didn’t have a soulmate. It guaranteed less memories, less trouble. Until the day Bucky got a cut that wasn’t his own. You were born missing your left arm, The doctors reassured your parents it wasn’t anything that happened to you, but rather your soulmate and you were given a functioning prosthetic to use. You were never upset about having to relearn everything with the prosthetic, however. And on the upside, there weren’t a lot of people missing a whole arm, which would only make finding your other half easier. 

Or so you thought. You were five when it first happened. It was during recess, you were sitting on the sidewalk next to your best friend Stephanie and drawing a flower with chalk. Suddenly, you felt a piercing pain in your leg, followed by blood seeping from your wound. You weren’t sure who screamed first, but one of you did, drawing the teacher’s attention. Seeing what happened, her face paled and she rushed you to the nurse. The wound looked like a bullet had caused it, but since there was no way it would have been possible for you to have been shot, they concluded that it had been your soulmate.  

You spent the rest of the day in agonizing pain, and the teacher’s gave you the rest of the month off to heal. You can imagine the surprise when your wound fully healed in about a week. You returned to school, and passed a few more years without incident.

Occasionally, you would get pounding headaches followed by bouts of amnesia that would last several days. But it seemed every few years, a bullet wound, or stab wound, or sometimes both, would appear, only to heal in about a week or so. But through it all, you were less worried about yourself and more concerned for your soulmate’s safety. It was puzzling not knowing who they were, and even more so not knowing how they healed so quickly. You did countless hours of research on soulmates. Everyone knew the basics. When you were born, the Fates tied a thread that connected your life to your soulmates. This connection wasn’t just spiritual, but physical as well. Your injuries would appear on your soulmate and vice versa. Some people didn’t have the same soul connection as others, and instead experienced a purely platonic relationship with their soulmate. After another long night of reading numerous articles, you were no closer to finding anything that was similar to what you experienced. 

Your alarm was blaring in your ear. Rolling over, you grabbed your phone to check the time, and then proceeded to have a miniature heart attack. You hated morning shifts but Stephanie asked you to cover for her and you agreed. You couldn’t refuse your best friend, especially since she covered your shift last week after another bullet wound appeared.

You rolled out of bed, taking a quick glance around your apartment. You found your uniform through the mess and grabbed your keys before heading out the door. Cursing, you turned around and went back inside. The sunlight glinted off the wood floors, temporarily blinding you.  As you set out a bowl of cat food, you prayed another wave of amnesia wasn’t starting.  You felt something scratch at your leg, drawing a few drops of blood, and looked down where Nala meowed up at you. You shook your head at her before grabbing your phone, which you also forgot, and headed out, for real this time.

The morning was hot and humid as you walked to work. The summer sun was beating down on the pavement, still wet from the previous night’s rainstorm, causing a faint mist to hang in the air. You groaned internally at how many complicated iced coffees you’d have to make.

Arriving at the corner coffeeshop, you realized you’d be the only one working that morning. You unlocked the door and turned on the lights inside. The smell of coffee filled your senses and you felt a feeling of familiarity wash over you. You flipped the sign on the door to say ‘open’, and then turned on the television. Although you would have loved to watch some morning talk show, you switched on the news, deciding to get caught up on what you missed while you were recuperating.

A picture of Avengers tower was on screen, and you wondered what controversy they had sparked this time. A newscaster stated, “Today James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, best friend of Captain America and former Winter Soldier, is officially becoming a member of the Avengers. Although his past with HYDRA has made people skeptical of him, most are excited to see what he has to bring to the team.” 

When a picture of him was shown, you gasped. He was handsome, with piercing blue eyes and shoulder length locks of chestnut hair, but most apparent was his metal arm. You grabbed your laptop and looked up his name. Apparently he had fought next to Steve Rogers in World War Two, where he allegedly died. But instead, he was found by HYDRA and brainwashed into being an assassin. 

You shook your head. It couldn’t be true, there was no way he could be your soulmate. You closed your laptop and pushed it away, electing to think of something, anything else. 

The bell on the door jingled as a group of customers entered the shop. As you prepared their order, you felt a sharp pain in your thigh, and you instantly knew it was a stab wound. Gritting your teeth through the pain, you continued making their drinks. After dealing with this for twenty-some years, you had developed a high pain tolerance. 

A breaking news alert appeared on the television just as you felt a bullet enter your other leg. 

~~~

It was the big day. Bucky was nervously suiting up for his first official public appearance since joining the Avengers when he felt something scratch the back of his leg. Glancing down, he saw a few drops of blood appear. 

He remembered when he first started to get small marks from his soulmate, and he always managed to hide them from HYDRA. Even while brainwashed, he knew that they’d find a way to use his soulmate against him.

Trying to brush it off, he finished getting ready and started out the door. The moment he stepped outside Avengers Tower he was flocked by the press trying to get an interview with the infamous Winter Soldier. 

Cameras were flashing all around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, his head starting to get fuzzy. He couldn’t deal with flashing lights, not since the “shock therapy” that  HYDRA had put him through. Luckily, Steve pulled him out of the crowd, guiding him towards the stage where the press conference would take place. 

Once he was sure no one was around, he glanced over at Steve, “I got another scratch today. It wasn’t from anything I did, so it had to have been from them.” Steve smiled, “Well that’s a good thing Buck. That means your soulmate is out there somewhere.” “That’s just it, Steve. I don’t know,” he paused, “I don’t know if I want to find them.” 

“Why not? When we were younger-” “Because things aren’t the same as when we were younger. You know that just as well as I do. The things I’ve done,” he trailed off before continuing. “Besides, the amount of times I’ve gotten hurt on missions, my soulmate got hurt too. If they have any sense, they won’t want to find me, either.” 

“Bucky you can’t mean that.” But before he could answer he was swept away by another wave of reporters. 

By the time the press conference had started, Bucky had managed to dodge a lecture from Steve at least three times. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to find his soulmate. He longed for that connection more than anything else. But there was something so daunting about the thought that someone out there was meant to be his other half. And when that someone found out the Winter Soldier was their soulmate? They’d go running the other way, and he couldn’t bear that. He didn’t need someone else to be scared of him. 

Stepping on stage, he felt everyone’s eyes on him, judging silently. He now wished that Steve hadn’t talked him into his current outfit. It was tasteful tactical gear, but there were no sleeves, meaning the metal arm was on full display. The sunlight glinting off of it didn’t exactly help make it any less threatening either. 

Steve was at the mic, warming up the crowd. “And now, I would like to introduce my closest friend, Bucky Barnes.” 

Just as he was about to take the microphone, bullets started flying. 

A tall man with pitch black hair emerged from behind the makeshift stage. Grabbing the microphone, he shouted over the din of the crowds, “Your Avengers cannot save you, in time all empires fall.” 

A knife found its way into Bucky’s thigh and he winced, but kept going. This wasn’t any time to tend to his wounds. He could feel bullets bouncing off his suit, which he was now thankful for, until one lodged itself into his side. 

Over the intercom he could hear the others talking and discussing different strategies, but FRIDAY’s voice spoke over them all. “An explosive has been detected in a building a few blocks from here. It may have a connection to all of this.” 

“Bucky and I will head over to check it out,” Steve replied. Bucky sighed to himself, even during a crisis Steve would find time for a lecture. “Look,” he said as they made their way towards the row of buildings, “your soulmate is someone who’s going to accept you, no matter who you are or what you’ve done. Why don’t you give them a chance?” “Because say they do accept me, then what? Something like what’s happening right now happens, and they get hurt or killed in the crossfire, just because they’re my soulmate? And HYDRA can literally use them to hurt me. It’s not worth the risk to put them in that kind of danger, I can’t risk it.” “And what if they already know? I mean, your soulmate has been getting bullet wounds their whole life, and is probably missing an arm. Seeing you on television, they might make the connection.” Bucky considered it for a moment, “Look, if I somehow find my soulmate, it might work out. But I just want to make sure they don’t feel pressured to fall in love with someone who used to be the Winter Soldier because of it.” “I’m glad you-,” before Steve could finish his sentence, an explosion came from a nearby coffee shop and at that moment Bucky felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs.

~~~

As much as you usually tried to hide your pain from the customers, it was hard not to cry out in agony as a building crumbled on top of you. Breathing became a struggle as the weight of the debris began to crush your lungs. Something sharp was digging into your back but when you tried to move dots danced in front of your vision. 

Over the ringing in your ears you were able to make out some voices. “Help,” you called out weakly, coughing as you spoke. “I’m over here, please, someone help,”

Dust fell from the rubble above you as some bricks were moved. Some of the weight shifted off your chest, and you felt like you could breathe again. The debris was moving faster now, and soon a stream of sunlight came through and fresh air entered the rubble. As you were finally able to move around a bit more, you realized your prosthetic arm was hanging limp at your side. As much as you wanted to get upset about it, that was the least of your worries. Blood was dripping from your head and back. You probably had at least a few broken bones, but you were thankful you were even alive. 

An arm reached through the rubble to help you out, and as soon as you made contact a shock went through your body. It couldn’t be possible. 

Once you were back on your feet you made eye contact with the same pair of piercing blue eyes you had seen on the television. Very elegantly, you said, “You, you’re my, my-” “Soulmate,” he finished with a sad smile. “We have a lot to talk about, but you should probably get some rest first.” 

You could only nod in response, between the shock and the thrumming headache forming in the back of your mind, no words could be found. So in a way, you felt lucky that the blood loss hit you at the exact moment, causing you to pass out.

A steady beeping in your ear awoke you. Groggily, you tried to open your eyes, but promptly squeezed them shut again as a blindingly white light hit them. A cleanly smell filled your senses, and you realized the loose fitting clothes you were wearing were not your own. You realized you were in the hospital, a place you were used to, needing to go there frequently because of your soulmate. 

Your eyes shot open. Soulmate. All the memories came flooding back to you, The building collapsing, the pain, him. As you tried to sit up you realized the hospital you were in was not your own. 

A man in a white lab coat stood near your bed, a warm smile on his face. He looked familiar, although you couldn’t quite place where you knew him from until he spoke. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. I’m Bruce Banner, I’ve been tasked with making sure you recover fully.”

“Bruce Banner? What alternate reality did I wake up in,” you asked yourself. “Where am I?” 

“You’re safe in the hospital at Avengers tower,” he answered reassuringly. “We were able to fix your arm, and the man who set off the explosion has been apprehended. Oh, and Steve told me what happened, about the whole, uh, soulmates thing. Bucky’s been recovering in the room over, since he sustained all the same injuries you did. But he’s been feeling much better, so when you’re ready I can send him to see you. If you’re alright with that,” he said.

You hesitated for only a moment before replying. “Can you send him in now?” 

A few moments later the door swung open and Bucky entered, looking tired, but not much worse for wear. You noticed he wasn’t wearing a hospital gown but was instead back in some kind of tactical gear. “Hey doll,” he smiled softly, “how are you feeling?” 

“A lot better, thank you. Are you alright, I know from first hand experience that having a building fall on you isn’t much fun and since,” you trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken. 

He pulled a chair next to your bed, “I’m doing better, the super serum definitely has its benefits in situations like this.”

You took a sharp breath in before speaking, “So, I’m guessing you want to talk about all this soulmate business.” Almost immediately after asking you felt a bit embarrassed and the bedsheet seemed a hundred times more interesting than it had a minute ago.

“If you want to,” he paused, and you nodded a brief ‘yes’. He continued, “No one knows besides us, Steve and Dr. Banner. So you aren’t in any danger. I understand if you don’t want this, I know I’m not the ideal soulmate-” Your head snapped up as you cut him off, “Bucky, why would I not want to be your soulmate?” “With everything I’ve done,” he sighed, not meeting your gaze, “and all the pain you’ve been put through because of it.  And being my soulmate comes with a lot of dangerous consequences. I just assumed that it would be easier for you to just walk away.”

You gently held his hand and intertwined your fingers. Meeting his gaze, you said,  “What you did in the past was not you, and it has no reflection on who you are as a person. And every scar I have just served as a reminder that there was someone out there to complete me.” You ran your thumb over a scar on his hand, a perfect match to a scar on that was your palm. “My whole life I’ve known  my soulmate led some kind of dangerous life, I’ve come to terms with that. It would not be easier for me to just walk away from you, in fact it would be damn near impossible.”

He smiled as he untangled your fingers to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. Leaning towards you, he whispered, “Doll, would it be alright if I kissed you?” And when you answered yes, his lips met yours and your heart fluttered. And although you might not have the “safest” life with Bucky as your soulmate, you knew it would be perfect. 

~~~ General taglist:

@sydneyisnotawriter

@dark-night-sky-99

To those of you who just found this one shot, welcome! And to those of you who are here after reading Coffee Stained Confusion, welcome back! I will be posting a few one shots over the next few weeks before starting the next longer fic! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated and let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! Love you all <3

[shutupandshipit]

Sharpen Your Blades - Ch.9

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T

Chapter: 9/20

Previously <- Chapter 8: First Snows

Chapter 10: Alpha Wanted -> Next

Chapter 9: Refill

“We’re going to prescribe you suppressants.”

Blinking rapidly, Izuku lifted his head. He hadn’t been paying attention, not really. All of his focus had been on the agonizing cramps turning his guts into knots, washing his vision black and grey, and his mother’s hand crushing his. His heat was still another week away, but he’d started pre-heat that morning. It would only get worse with each passing day, and bile rose in the back of his throat at the thought.

He knew that word though, ‘suppressants’. He’s read about them, not extensively, but enough. Mostly to find out how they affected the performance of the Olympic skaters who were ‘strongly encouraged’ to take a form of both suppressants and birth control for all primary and secondary genders.

He’d never thought about using them himself though.

Clearing his throat, he asked over Inko’s sniffling, “Suppressants?”

The kind while strange doctors cocked their heads at him. “Do you know what suppressants are?” the man asked.

“Yes, a little, but why? I’m not really sure why you would want to put me in suppressants...”

Inko sobbed, “You think things are that bad?”

The doctors glanced at each other, but seemed to come to the conclusion to ignore his mother’s question. The only thing was that he wanted to know the answer too. “Suppressants have many uses. We want to use them to help regulate your heat and to make them easier,” the man explained.

Izuku bit his lip, shame twisting his insides as badly as the cramps, but asked anyway, “Can you make them go away? I don’t… want to have heats. I don’t like them. They hurt.”

“Well, that can happen during periods of excessive stress and when you’re young. You see, it’ll level out eventually. So, we’re just going to use the suppressants until that leveling out happens,” the woman explained.

Izuku stared at her as the pain in his abdomen worsened, but he managed to not hunch over completely. “I don’t care. I don’t want them.”

Inko gasped beside him, and he didn’t have to look at her to feel her eyes boring into him. “Izuku! Don’t say that! Having heats, being able to bring life into this world, is a gift!”

Again, Izuku said, “I don’t want them.”

The man pursed his lips, pushing a hand back into his dark hair. “Restricting your hormones like that is not advised, especially since you’re so young. But we can do this for you, okay? We’re not willing to endanger your health like that.”

Izuku didn’t reply, doing his best to fight the uncharacteristic anger that rose in his chest with the very characteristic tears that flooded his eyes. He didn’t want to have heats, not since he’d started them. He’d just have to find a way to use the prescription to his advantage.

…..

November Week 1

“Dr. Matsumoto?” Izuku asked tentatively as he poked his head around the door to his doctor’s office.

The omega man spun around in his chair, quickly pushing his glasses up his nose and smiling at Izuku. “Mr. Midoriya! Come in, come in! Dr. Kavinsky will be here in just a moment. Please, have a seat. There’s a few things we would like to discuss with you today.”

Izuku followed the doctor’s orders, sitting down on the paper covered exam table. The stirrups attached to the end made him queasy, but he wasn’t here for that kind of checkup, thank everything holy. To take his mind off his nerves, he stripped out of his coat and held out the arm that hadn’t just had blood drawn from it. Dr. Matsumoto strapped a blood pressure cuff to him. It was all business as usual. Even though Dr. Shuzenji had taken over his care for physical therapy and sports physicals, he still went to his usual doctors for everything else.

Nowadays, he only found himself in the doctor’s office every six months for his check-ups and whenever he needed to refill his suppressants. Today had only been meant for a refill, but he didn’t actually interact with either of his doctors for that normally. So the fact that they had requested him to attend an appointment with both of them present was more worrying than he was willing to let on.

He and Dr. Matsumoto chatted idly while they waited for Dr. Kavinsky, and each passing moment of small talk made Izuku all the more nervous. When the female omega bustled in with jovial apologies, he was nearly ready to vibrate right off the edge of the table. Digging his fingers into the padding, he forced a smile and said, “No worries, Dr. Kavinsky, but um… is there anything wrong? I only needed a refill, and there’s still another couple of months until my next check-up.”

The doctors glanced at each other, a peculiar habit they’d had as long as he’d known them, before Dr. Kavinsky glanced back at him and Dr. Matsumoto turned to click away at the computer. “Well, no, there’s nothing particularly wrong. Well, I haven’t seen your blood work just yet, but I would like to say everything is alright. That is to say, we didn’t ask you to come here for anything concerning your check-ups, but concerning your refill.” She’d also always had a peculiar way of speaking, and Izuku took a few moments to process her words. There was a ping on the computer, and she glanced away towards the screens as the other omega began sliding around open files around on the screen.

Ice trickled into his veins, the first indication of panic. “My refill, ma’am? Is there something wrong with it?”

Again, the two doctors exchanged a look. There were colorful charts that made no particular sense to Izuku across the computer screen now including a long list of text open on the opposite monitor. They pulled the screen away from the wall to swivel it towards him, a piece of furniture he found cool every other occasion but right then. Flanking the screen, Dr. Matsumoto spoke while Dr. Kavinsky pointed at spots on the bar and pie graphs. “I want you to take a look at this chart, Mr. Midoriya, do you know what this represents?” Izuku shook his head, and the doctor continued without missing a beat. “These are graphs that we devised to make it easier to explain things to patients. These charts represent the levels of crucial hormones in your body over the past couple visits you’ve had. You might be able to tell why we’re concerned.”

Izuku swallowed, eyes absorbing every ounce of info he could glean from the sparsely labeled graphs, but he thought he understood what they were trying to say. “The levels have been dropping over the past two years?” He was only taking a stab in the dark on the time frame. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d come in in the past year, but he knew he’d gotten his blood drawn every time. There were a lot of charts staring at him.

“These charts are just from the past year not including the one that was run today. That one is still in text format over there. We have ones dating back to when you were first placed on suppressants as well. We’ve seen dips in your levels that track with the dates you’ve given us for your heats though they are lower than what we’d expect for normal suppressant usage, but this has been a common theme with your heats and suppressants.” He glanced at Izuku though, and the slight frown of disapproval seemed to say he suspected foul play on Izuku’s part. He wouldn’t have been wrong, and Izuku ripped his eyes away back to the screen. “But your levels have rapidly begun to decline this year and that is dangerous. Dangerous for everyone, but particularly for omegas and alphas. We’d hoped that they would level back out, but...” Dr. Matsumoto inhaled noisily, but Dr. Kavinsky was the one to speak.

“Mr. Midoriya, we are no longer going to be providing you with suppressants.”

Izuku’s eyes snapped to her. Every ugly emotion he possessed -fear, anger, horror, terror- all crowded together in his chest. They all vied for attention until he was feeling nothing at all. Since he’d started training close to Katsuki again, he’d also started having to regularly take his suppressants -sometimes even taking them twice or three times a day-, and the sweeping numbness that they occasionally caused was a welcome relief at times. “Why? I… I need my suppressants, ma’am, sir.”

“Do you know why we have suppressants, Mr. Midoriya? Do you know what they do?” Dr. Kavinsky asked.

His immediate response was ‘yes’, but the look on her face told him that any answer he gave was going to be wrong. At least partially. Still, he said, “To control heats for omega and ruts for alphas so we can still function in society. Either putting them on a set schedule or making them easier to handle so there will be less damage and recuperation afterwards.”

“Well, that is true, yes, but that’s only part of it. Here’s the thing, suppressants are actually meant to sustain hormone levels. That’s how we manage all of those things. That’s also why there are so many different kinds, and not all of them work for every omega or alpha. Everybody’s bodies are different, and therefore need different hormone levels for suppressants to work. Here’s another thing that isn’t usually explained, but it is why prolonged use is highly discouraged. Prolonged use can make these crucial hormone levels drop to severe and dangerous levels, which is why blood tests are needed to track these. That is what we’re beginning to see with your hormone levels. For an alpha or omega, if these levels drop too far it could cause a catatonic state or that person to go feral. Much like with what happened to you when you were younger. If use is continued, this could even cause death. So, we’re discontinuing your refills, and if your hormones do not return to normal, we may have to start hormone treatments. There are other safer ways to manage your heats, especially since you’ve been an adult for a few years now.”

The room fell silent, and after a moment, Dr. Matsumoto seemed to feel the need to include, “This is commonly seen in… suppressant abuse and dependency cases…”

Izuku worked his jaw, and after a moment, muttered, “What am I supposed to do without my suppressants? I haven’t had a heat… that isn’t unbearable since I presented.” He hadn’t really had any heats since he was eleven and was put on his suppressants, but he didn’t need to tell them that.

The suppressants he’d been prescribed were supposed to be taken daily, but he skipped his dose most days and saved them for the moment he started feeling his pre-heat set in. He’d take double until his heat would normally end, effectively eliminating it all together. Heats and ruts functioned as a full body detox, resetting the body for a new cycle, so to completely be skipping them… Well, he was sure that it had something to do with his declining hormone levels. It couldn’t be healthy.

But he didn’t have any other choice. They were just too painful.

“There are apps that provide heat services where an alpha will stay in your vicinity or even physically help you through your heat. Or if you’re a traditionalist, possibly you could date. There are also some very R-rated sites that have plenty of heat implements that may make things easier. As for the chemical route, we cannot condone further use,” Dr. Matsumoto explained, repositioning the screen and sitting back down.

He looked so helpful, sounded so helpful, but all Izuku wanted to do was strangle him. Maybe that was why he forced a smile, hopped off the table and grabbed his coat. If that wasn’t an addict’s response, he didn’t know what was. He didn’t want to be an addict. It was a hard truth to consider. “Thank you for your time today, doctors. I appreciate you explaining things to me. I’ll see you in another couple of months.” Without waiting to hear their answers, he turned and left the room despite how rude that was.

He had to get to practice. He didn’t have time to be worrying about things like this.

…..

Katsuki hadn’t been looking forward to practice. He enjoyed cardio generally, but once the first snow fell for the season, he absolutely despised it. He would rather skate endless circles around the rink or do sprints or just about anything else for hours over running outside. Living in Yuuei, logic would have stated that he was used to the cold by that point in his life, but reality was a cruel mistress. Every breath he took felt like ice picks being rammed into his lungs, and once everything was said and done, it took him at least two hours to properly warm up again.

Still, he dutifully showed up to practice that afternoon dressed in thermals and his workout gear instead of his usual heavy winter wear. He wore the beanie and gloves that he’d had to dig out of the bottom of his closet, a little musty and very itchy. He hadn’t remembered why he’d relegated them to be forgotten in the shadows, but standing there wearing them, he was reminded all over again. He was mildly bitter about the fact that Izuku had hoarded his gloves and hat instead of returning them.

Granted, Katsuki wouldn’t have accepted them -he gave them to an omega for fuck’s sake, he’d never see them again- but he would have liked the gesture. Well, he’d take them back under very specific circumstances.

‘Gifts to omega. Must provide. Keep warm. Warmth is strong body. Strong body is strong pups. Court omega to mate omega. Omega will give strong pups. Omega will make good mate. Omega will make alpha happy.’

‘I get it,’ Katsuki thought at his alpha viciously, but as much as he hated to bother with the basest of his instincts, he had allowed his alpha to guide him. And it seemed to have paid off.

He slouched on a park bench while he waited for the rest of the team to show up, nursing a bottle of hot tea. Several of the others had already turned up including his partner, and his eyes hadn’t left Izuku’s hands. Wrapped up in green, white and black thermal fleece lined gloves with a rabbit decal on the back, Izuku’s hands looked very warm indeed. And from what he could tell, the size of the gloves were perfect.

Smirking to himself, he slid a little further down.

The omega stood several meters away from Katsuki as he watched Iida and Uraraka go back and further. Iida gestured as animatedly as usual, and Uraraka mimicked his movements until a small smile appeared on Izuku’s face. The omega didn’t join in the conversation though, and something about the way he stood, a little further back than usual with his arms held tightly across his chest, told Katsuki something wasn’t right.

‘Omega distressed? Worried? Angry?’ his alpha asked worriedly.

‘I don’t know.’

The smirk on his face fell away, and as if sensing his gaze, Izuku turned towards him. There was a fakeness to his smile that Katsuki had been forced to get used to since they’d presented. That smile had stuck around for years after Aizawa had recruited them, but it had rarely made an appearance in recent years. Seeing it now felt like an ill omen, like the worst kind of shock to his system. He sat up straight, but as Izuku headed his way, he watched it ease into something more true.

“Kacchan!” Izuku said, stopping beside Katsuki as he shoved his hands into coat pockets.

“What do you want, nerd?”

Izuku’s smile didn’t falter, and only seemed to grow wider as he held out the pair of gloves Katsuki had given him the week before. “Sorry for keeping them so long. I was still using them, but someone left me these as a present in my bag yesterday, so I thought I’d return yours.”

Pursing his lips, Katsuki stared at the gloves, not reaching for them even though he very much wanted to trade out his current itchy pair. The fact that they’d smell like Izuku just made it harder to fight. “Are those better than mine?”

Red flushed Izuku’s cheeks, and Katsuki knew the answer. “Well, I uh, that is- Yours are really nice-”

“Stop stuttering, and just give me a straight answer. Damn.”

“They’re… a bit nicer than yours, but only because they fit better!”

Which meant they were worlds better than Katsuki’s beat up, worn in fur lined leather gloves. He hid a smirk in his collar. Snatching them from Izuku’s hand, he said, “Better hurry up and figure out who gave them to you soon to thank them properly.”

Still smiling, Izuku clasped his hands behind his back. “You wouldn’t have any idea who that would be, right Kacchan? Maybe you saw something?”

“The only thing I see is the fact that you’re still wearing my fucking beanie too.”

Izuku’s hand jumped up to his hair flattened by the black and orange beanie. “Do you want it back?”

“I’m already wearing one. No use when it’s just going to go in my pocket.”

“Okay.” Izuku didn’t turn back to his friends like Katsuki thought he would, but instead took a seat beside him. As soon as he sat, he seemed to deflate, shoulders drooping and smile dropping almost into non-existence. His eyes gazed off into the distance.

Katsuki wasn't sure if he should say anything and disturb Izuku, or continue to stare and watch him wallow. He chose the former, preferring a smiling Izuku to whatever he'd turned into. "What's the matter with you?" Izuku's eyes snapped towards him, startled, and Katsuki felt worse for knowing that it was because that was the first time Katsuki had asked how he was doing in years. Even when they'd actually been best friends, he'd rarely ever asked Izuku that question.

That fake smile returned immediately. "Oh, nothing, Kacchan, just a little tired. Thanks for asking though."

'Don't. Don't pretend with me. Don't put on that fake expression. You don't have to do that with me,' Katsuki thought desperately, wishing he had the guts to just come out and say it. Before he could muster up the words though, Toshinori called their attention, waving them over to the beginning of the hiking trail.

Together they stood and started towards their coaches.

Aizawa was bundled up tightly in black and maroon, looking not at all present as he dozed against a tree. Toshinori, tall and gaunt, stood beside the omega beneath the dropping bows of the pine. His blond hair was pushed back with a hairband much like the one Katsuki had given Izuku several weeks ago, and his track suit looked bulky and warm. "Good afternoon, my young charges! I hope you all had a good night yesterday." As always, Toshinori's voice was loud and booming, drawing the attention of people down the walking path.

The team tittered away for several long moments until Toshinori cleared his throat to bring their attention back to the task at hand. "Alright. We haven't used this hiking path for a run in awhile so be mindful of the condition of the road, low hanging branches, icy patches and roots. Don't overwork yourselves too early, this trail is an eight kilometer loop all together. With the season about to start, we're also starting up our annual Run-to-Win Competition. Remember, first place gets the most points, and if you're the first to cross the finish line, you get certain prizes. Today is the right to choose your own outfit for the exhibition within reason of course, but you'll be the final decider in the end." The group erupted in excited shouts again, and even Katsuki perked up.

He'd gotten to choose his outfit a couple times over the course of his career, but there'd always been something his coach rejected or made him change. He'd never had a true say in what he wore. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Izuku straighten up in interest. Right, they were partners this year. If one of them came in first, that person would also be choosing the others’ outfit as well. They had to match, at least for the most part, and Katsuki wasn't about to wear something fucking stupid because he lost to Izuku.

Izuku glanced at him, catching his eye. They held eye contact for a long moment before the real smile was back again. "What do you say, Kacchan? Who's going to be choosing our outfits?"

With all of the others, they lined up at the mouth of the trail, and waited for Toshinori to start the clock. "Me, of course, shitty Deku," Katsuki spat before taking off with everyone.

Both he and Izuku didn't go full tilt right off the bat like a lot of their teammates did. The course was long, and they didn’t need to burn out too early. At least half of the others streamed out ahead of them, but soon enough, they were leading the pack. The rest lagged, some beginning to walk and others stopping all together to bend over and breath heavily. Only a few kept a steady pace, but none of them were as fast or steady as Izuku and Katsuki. Soon enough, they were the only ones on the path.

They kept pace with each other. Step for step, breath for breath, they ran together as if they were practicing synchronicity again. It was only when they'd already passed the fourth mile that they glanced at each other and simultaneously picked up the speed. Even as their race truly started, they were in sync. It was maddening in more ways than one, and Katsuki huffed like a boar as he worked to get even an inch in front of Izuku. Still, they remained neck and neck.

"Goddammit, Deku!" Katsuki spat on a sharp exhale. They were all but sprinting by that point, drenched in sweat and nearing the end of the trail.

Izuku had a wild smile, cheeks flushed with beautiful color and eyes alight. "I'm- going to- beat you- Kacchan!"

"Like hell!"

A wild laugh fell from Izuku's lips as the mouth of the trail came into view, and they both put in every last ounce of strength they had left. They reached the end of the trail, and kept going as they slipped on a patch of ice just on the other side.

"Fuck!" Katsuki cried, flailing backwards and snapping out a hand to keep Izuku from crashing forward onto his knees. Instead, they tumbled back into the snow between the trees, Katsuki on his back and Izuku against his chest completely out of breath. "Fuuuuuuck," Katsuki groaned, head flopped back even as the snow began to melt and soak his hair. He could barely breathe, and Izuku's weight didn't make it any better. Still, Izuku didn't try to get up and Katsuki didn't push him away.

After a moment, Katsuki felt the frozen tip of a nose skim along the column of his throat. Izuku's scent wafted to him. Sweat and excitement and musk and mint and arousal and lightning, and again, that chemical cleanness. It was the same as the last time he'd smelled it, but stronger than before. Like when they'd been twelve, and Izuku had been abusing suppressants. Wrinkling his nose against the scent and the sudden rush of worry and anger in his body, he felt more than heard Izuku gasp above him.

The weight disappeared from his chest, and he cracked his eyes open to find Izuku's surprised expression as Toshinori lifted him off Katsuki and Aizawa grasping his forearm to pull him to his own feet.

When his eyes found the omega's again, Izuku grinned. "Good race, Kacchan, but it looks like we're going to have to work together on our costumes."

"One of these days, you're going to have to give the others a chance to win a race," Aizawa said.

Katsuki sneered at their coach. "Not a chance in hell! We won fair and square. They need to try harder if they want to win."

Izuku laughed, the sound a tinkling chime even as Aizawa rolled his eyes and pulled the other omega away. "See you later, Kacchan," he called, hand waving over his head.

Katsuki couldn't rip his eyes away from him or rub away the reminder of his scent.