#OUT OOOUT I SAID

[grabby-smitten]

THIS IS A FCKING CRIME!

[mariacrow]

How about a (bayverse)transformers x reader that is from our universe? Like we somehow got into the movies which means we know everything, who dies,when they die, who to trust ect. so that would mean that we can save bots that are going to get killed yk?(jazz my baby🥺🥺) okay so if you have no clue how to write it, you dont have to!!!

I totally get you! It’s like an AU I have myself :) My brain simply CANNOT comprehend that they’re dead. What if, to add a little more spice, we’re actually a Witwicky or better yet Sam’s sibling! I’ll leave that to your imagination ;) and I know exactly how to write this piece ;)

AU where Jazz, Ironhide and Ratchet are saved by Y/N!

2nd person

female reader

takes place in Transformers (2007)

takes place in Transformers: Dark of the Moon (2011)

takes place in Transformers: Age of Extinction (2014)

battle, injuries, reassurance, swearing, flirting…

JAZZ lives!

“YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME!? YOU WANT A PIECE!?” blasting Megatron’s legs, Jazz was angrily shouting while you were watching, standing on top the same building Megatron was on along with Jazz in his claws.

“No! I want two!” Megatron yelled angrily.

“Hey! Hey big guy! Megs!” you yelled as loudly as you could so Megatron could hear you. Your plan was to distract him. “Megatron!!!”

Just when he was about to rip Jazz in two pieces, he turned around because he heard you. Jazz took that opportunity immediately and blasted him in the face. Megatron groaned in pain and irritation as his grip on Jazz went loose.

“You ain’t that smart after all, you pile of rust!” Jazz mocked him as he got out of his grasp and jumped towards you.

Megatron quickly turned around and aimed at you both while groaning in indescribable anger. Jazz grabbed you and jumped off the building while Megatron was trying to blast you both.

“Hold on tight, baby girl!” not the best time for flirting.

Jazz transformed into his BMW and secured you in the driver’s seat with a seatbelt, driving down the building, vertically.

“WOOOAH! JAZZ WATCH OOOUT!”

Inching from the ground, he partially transformed to safely push himself onto the ground. He did scratch his bumper though.

“Aw man! Not the bumper!”

He was speeding through the streets, drifting and sliding like the pro he is. You could barely comprehend what just happened.

“Quite of a bumpy ride, huh~?” he said kinda seductively.

“Jazz, you’re insane.” you said, chuckling.

“You saved my life out there, kid, you know that?”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

“Yeah.” he chuckled, “ “Friends~” “

🩶

IRONHIDE lives!

“For the sake of our survival, a deal had to be made… With Megatron.” Sentinel said as he repeated his gun.

Your eyes widened. Your heart skipped a beat as a heavy wave of adrenaline struck your body. The gun you were holding felt heavier than ever.

“IRONHIDE, WATCH OUT!!!” you shouted and started shooting at Sentinel’s face, aiming for his optics. You made him groan as his aim on Ironhide became wonky.

Ironhide turned around in time and got his weapons out. Sentinel managed to blast his arm off. It made Ironhide groan and lose balance, falling onto his knee as he was trying to shoot Sentinel with his other arm but the pain was keeping him away from being precise.

“NOOO!” you panicked because of Ironhide, seeing he’s badly injured.

“TRAITOROUS PUNK!” Ironhide cussed.

“GET BACK!!!” Lennox yelled.

Bumblebee reacted quickly, the fight was on. Sentinel managed to blast the base, sparkles and heat were all over the place, you could barely see anything. The sharp pieces of metal were flying everywhere which got you injured. Your arm was badly hurt which made you drop your gun and yelp.

Suddenly you could feel a huge, strong metal hand grab you and pull you back. Clinking of Ironhide’s transformation surrounded you and you soon found yourself inside of the black RAM.

He floored it along with Bee. You could hear him groan. His turning was wonky, he was barely driving.

“We need to find Ratchet, ASAP!”

“I don’t need no medic!” you could hear pain in his voice.

“Ironhide, it is not the time for your stubbornness! Please! That grandpa blasted your whole arm off!”

He angrily drifted into an alley and transformed back. You flew out and hit the ground as he slid down the wall, sitting down, holding his leaking shoulder.

You bravely got up and climbed on his leg, taking a better look at him.

“Ironhide, please…” you looked at him with pleading eyes, “This is serious and I don’t know how to fix it…”

Seeing you almost cry because of him made his spark ache. The fact you worry so much about him made it even harder for him to suppress his feelings…

“Fine… Call Ratchet…” he huffed, his ego kinda hurting.

And so you did. He was on his way. You were praying he arrives safely.

Ironhide picked you up and placed you on his other shoulder, gently keeping his servo around you. You smiled and leaned against his helm, giving him a hug. Funny how you both got your left arms injured. Twins!!!

“It’s gonna be alright… I promise…”

“Well I ain’t dying yet.” he chuckled through the pain, “I didn’t even get to take you out.”

He made you chuckle, “Well then. What are you doing tomorrow?”

You both had a good laugh as Ratchet’s sirens were approaching.

Ironhide was saved.

🩶

RATCHET lives!

Ratchet and you were hiding on that abandoned boat for a long time. It was quite difficult for survival but you had him and he had you. He has great survival skills, he taught you a lot.

The night they went hunting for you both almost meant the end. Thankfully you were there with him to react on time. You weren’t sleeping, you were guarding the hiding spot.

It was a peaceful night with a clear sky. You furrowed you eyebrows once the silence was ruined by helicopters in the distance. They were getting closer, you saw them as well as bunch of cars on the dirt road. Your eyes widened as you ran to Ratchet.

“Ratchet! Ratchet, wake up! We need to go, now! They’re coming for us!!”

“Are you sure, Y/N?”

“Yes! I saw them in the distance! Come on, hurry!” you said while quickly packing everything you had, picking up your bag and running out with him. He had a bad feeling about this but he trusted you nonetheless.

The boat got blasted from far away, you didn’t even see who did it. All you knew is that it made you jump off the boat. Ratchet grabbed you mid air and transformed into the ambulance vehicle. You found yourself tumbling inside as he got onto the ground and floored it.

Someone kept blasting you from far away. It was Lockdown tracking you but you had no clue.

“Someone is tracking us! We need to lose them!”

“I know where to go. I suggest you hold on tight! Safety first!” he’s so wholesome.

Suddenly, Ratchet’s tire got blasted. Both of you almost went flying.

“Primus!” Ratchet exclaimed and groaned.

“WOAH!” you bounced inside, securing yourself with a seatbelt, “Your tire is gone!”

Nevertheless, he kept driving with no back tire. You kept being chased by enormously strong blasts until you lost whoever was trying to kill you.

“Whatever was trying to kill us… it isn’t human. I don’t think we have such artillery… and it wasn’t coming from the sky for sure.”

“Humans have made an alliance with the Deceptacons. They won’t stop until they butcher us all!” he said with emotional pain in his voice while driving deep into the countryside, going for an abandoned junkyard.

You sat there, resting. Ratchet seemed hopeless until he spoke.

“Optimus will come back. I know he will. All of this isn’t for nothing…”

You looked up at him and smiled, standing up.

“I’ll go find a spare tire.”

You made him smile, “Thank you. You’re a sweetheart…”

That night you saved the medic’s life without even knowing how butchered he could’ve been by Savoy, Lockdown and KSI…

Dividers belong to @saradika 🩶

[pandafishao3]

TEASER FOR "THE MILK FARM PART 5"

”They’re not coming out” the nurse said worriedly with her hand up Bucky’s birthing channel to check. The omega’s head was lolling back in a low, drawn-out moan, and sweat was already covering his naked body to the point where it glistened.

“Ooout” Bucky mewled, gasping as another contraction went through him and his hand clenched at the handle on the wall. The birthing nest was big and wide, and right now he was propped up on a lot of pillows drenched in his sharp scent. It came with the water breaking all over the mattress. That massive belly was more swollen than ever – the omega had four pups now needing to get out. Waiting for them was a pair of equally swollen, milk-filled tits bouncing tiredly every time Bucky twisted and turned.

Steve was in the corner on a chair watching them work. His foot was bouncing worriedly off the ground, and he kept his elbows resting on his knees so he could put his chin onto the knuckles. Even thought he’d been preparing for nine months now, it still had him nervous. This wasn’t Steve’s first birth – but it was the first time he was going to assist. They hadn’t asked him to, but this omega had never given birth before and there was a big litter in him.

Plus, given the look the nurse was throwing at him right now, they needed his help.

“The pups won’t breach through. We can do a caesarean cut, but I think –“ she started, and Steve immediately stood up.

“I’ll fix it. He doesn’t need a cut, he needs an alpha” he said confidently. And he was – Steve knew in his stomach what to do to help the omega.

“P-please alpha” Bucky gasped as he tried to get up. His huge belly got in the way and he grimaced. The tail tucked below him was twitching unhappily, and it was wet with slick and amniotic fluid. Those tiny little hooves slipped as Bucky tried to push himself upwards, and Steve hurried to help him.

“C’mon sweet thing, lets get you on your knees. It’ll feel better, I promise. C’mon now” the alpha cooed and let the omega cling to him so he could assist him in moving. Given how heavy the omega was now, Steve actually had to use a lot of his strength to carefully move Bucky into a position on his knees with his little hands bracing on the wall handles. The new position had his back arching and Bucky mewled, tail swinging back and forth while slick dripped uncontrollably onto the mattress.

Honestly Steve could hardly breathe watching how fat those pussy lips had gotten during the last weeks. They were so thick and sensitive in response to the massive release of hormones as Bucky’s body prepared for the birth. Even the omega’s tiny cocklet had grown fat and swollen, constantly in a state of arousal. It was almost like a chubby little erection, except Steve preferred to rub on it and call it his sweet little clit. In either case it had been a fun way to get Bucky to come these last few weeks – he could hardly move, but he could lie on his back and let the alpha play with his sensitive sex until he came all over himself, mewling as he trembled.

Above that was Bucky’s puckered asshole that Steve just couldn’t wait to fuck after the pups were born and his pussy needed a rest.

So this was a teaser for the upcoming part of "The Milk Farm". Yes I know, it's weird and it's filthy and it's literally sex while giving birth but hey, if I don't write it, who will? Cow hybrid love/pandafish Here's the whole series:

[randomteen]

Treasure Island [post 1]

It was the day that the Hispaniola was sent to sea. Jim was helping the other crew members unpack their barrels. Jim carried them without hesitation or struggle! "Wow, Jim. You're a strong young man, aren't cha?" Raven teased.

"Raveeen! Cut it ooout!" Jim whined.

He smiled and patted Jim's head.

"Raven! Cut it out!" Captain Smollett yelled.

Raven rolled his eyes.

"Where's Jade and Anchors?" Asked Raven.

"They're coming. In about 4 minutes," Jim said.

"Why? Do you have a crush on Jade?" Jim teased.

Raven blushed.

"If I did, do you think he'd like me?" He asked.

Jim shrugged.

Jade finally came in with Anchors.

"Hey guys. Come help me unpack these barrels."

Jim raced towards them. "I'll do it!"

"Thanks," Jade said as he handed him a barrel.

Raven looked at Jade dreamily.

"What are you looking at?" He asked.

"Nothing. Why? What did I miss?" Raven asked.

"You missed nothing, but we got to go." Jade said.

"Oh!"

The three of them left for the deck.

"Umm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you." Raven apologized

Jade ignored the apology

He glanced at Anchors, who nodded excitedly.

"I'm ready! How about you guys?" Asked Anchors.

"Ah, I'll be ready in a few minutes!" Raven replied.

Suddenly, a familiar-looking man approached the four young men. It was the infamous Long John Silver.

"Oh! Hello, sir!" Jim exclaimed.

"Hello, young lad," Silver replied.

"When will we set sail, sir?" Asked Anchors.

Silver smirked. "As soon as you get your stuff together."

Anchor frowned. "But-"

"No buts, boy. Get your things together," Silver interrupted.

{Chapter 2: The Betrayal}

Later that night, Jim heard footsteps head downstairs to the apple barrel. He sneaked behind them.

It was Silver and his crew.

They sat down and started to discuss something.

"Silver! How long are we going to stay on this blasted tub, eh? Can't we just kill those boys, then the men?!" Israel Hands cried.

"Quiet, Hands. The men trust us. Let's wait till we get to Treasure Island!" Silver suggested.

Jim was horrified, so he ran to the berth where Dr. Livesey, Captain Smollett, Squire Trelawney, and Raven were at.

"Ah, come in, Jim! What's on your mind?" Asked Dr. Livesey.

"Sir, I'm afraid that there's danger on board," Jim began. "I overheard a conversation that Silver and his crew were having. They were planning to kill us!" Jim said, sliding his finger across his neck.

Dr. Livesey gasped.

"Are you sure? Were you not mistaken?" Captain Smollett asked.

"Yes, sir. I wasn't mistaken," Jim said.

Captain Smollett scowled.

"Jesus!" Captain Smollett growled. "We're in big trouble! Oh, God.." Captain Smollett said, starting to tear up.

Raven pat the captain's shoulder.

"Are you okay, sir?"

"Wha.. Yes! I'm fine! And I have an idea!" Captain Smollett shouted.

"Ah, what is it, sir?" Asked Raven.

"We can act like nothing happened until the last moment.. Oh God, I'm so clever!" Captain Smollett cried.

"LAND HO!" A pirate shouted.

"Land ho!" Another one echoed.

"Come on, let's go!" Raven said, taking the lead.

"Oh, dear Lord!" Dr. Livesey murmured under his breath.

Jim followed the me, and eventually met up with Gabe, Jade, and Anchors.

"Guys, Silver is planning to kill every single one of us!" Jim whispered.

The three young men looked at eachother in shock.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'm going to escape to Treasure Island." Jim said.

Meanwhile, Captain Smollett was staring at the amazing view of Treasure Island.

"Say, Lads.. Have any of you fine men seen this exact piece of land?" Asked the captain.

"Aye! I've seen it, sir," Silver exclaimed.

"That little hill? That's the Spyglass. And that loghouse? I've seen it millions of times!"

"Very well! You've done everything a captain could ever ask for! Go ashore, if you'd like, my lads!" Captain Smollett exclaimed.

"Of course. All ashore!"

The pirates cried with excitement.

Silver grabbed two of the pirates, one being Hands himself.

"Make sure that these scallywags don't leave the ship. If they do, it'll cost your neck," Silver whispered.

They gulped and nodded.

Jim raced towards the deck, climbing out of the ship, and into a small boat.

"Quick, we need to leave now!" He called to Gabe, Jade, and Anchors.

They climbed aboard, and Jim paddled back to Treasure Island.

The four young men explored the island, until they heard someone.

"Who's there?!" Jim yelled, pulling out a musket and aiming it to the source of the sound.

A man climbed out of the bushes.

"My name is Ben Gunn," The man said.

"Ben Gunn? But you look like a pirate!" Jim exclaimed.

"Ye see, I used to be one of Captain Flint's men," Ben explained.

"Wow. How did you escape?"

"I was marooned. Abandoned, yknow?" Ben said.

"How terrible!" Jim cried.

"I was waiting for someone to come and rescue me. No one ever did," Ben sighed.

"Is that Flint's ship?" Ben asked.

"Nu-uh. Flint is dead. But some of his men are on board and we're in terrible danger, Uh-huh!" Jim said.

"Is there a one-legged man?"

"Silver?"

Ben gasped.

"Oh no!"

"I know! We should hide!" Jim suggested.

"Good idea! Follow me!" Ben said.

Jim and his friends hid under a tree.

"Keep quiet!" Ben whispered.

He crawled to the edge of the forest.

[]

Meanwhile, Dr. Livesey, Raven, Squire Trelawney, and Captain Smollett were still at their regular spot.

"Things are looking bad for us," Dr. Livesey said.

"We're stuck here, and the boys seem to be missing."

"Oh god.. Raven.. I'm gonna pass out!" Captain Smollett said dramatically.

"Calm down, Cap'n," Raven said, rubbing Captain Smollett's shoulders.

"Fine," The captain groaned.

Dr. Livesey's face lit up, like he had an idea.

"What's wrong, doctor?" Asked Raven. The doctor whispered something into the men's ears, making them look at him like he was the most brilliant man on earth.

"Let's do it!" The captain exclaimed.

{TBH}

[credits 2 @harmonyhayami for letting me include Jade Poet and Anchors in this novel!]

[misty-moth]

Not me making a running list in my drafts as I figure out how to bother Arthur 😅:

- going on walks alone at night (it started the night when pokemongo came out, and I’ve been recklessly doing it ever since). It would stress him ooout.

- I think we would both occasionally take teasing too far or for too long, especially for two sensitive beans.

- being a sore winner/sore loser… that’s absolutely a huge issue 😭 I don’t want to be that way, I’m just competitive af…

All that said, I’m pretty good about apologizing quickly 🤷‍♀️ I think he would be too if he realized I was genuinely upset about something. The only frequent issue would be the competitiveness 👀

Question of The Day

☆ How do you make them angry? Do you think arguments could happen often? Who apologizes first?

╰❧ Daily Q's can be answered with your voice- or your OC's!

If you'd like to suggest a question, send me an ask! || About This Blog

Divider by @/enchanthings

[wheredafandomat]

Solo Nights 😉

It had been a long day of getting punched, kicked, thrown and pushed. Obviously you guys won. You always win. But the process of getting to that win was not a painless one. Today’s mission was terribly lengthy and the feeling of getting back to your room, showering and falling into a blissful nights sleep was the only thing keeping you going.

Walking out of the quintet, you said your goodbyes to your team. It was your usual goodbye. A playful grope and a hug. You’d do it after every mission except now Loki was also part of the team so it made things a little more awkward. Instead of pulling Loki into a hug accompanied by a grope, you’d usually just do a dramatic curtsy and say something witty like “goodbye your majesty”. To make things even better, he’d usually smile back and say something equally silly like “I wish I was accompanying you” The team would always say he’s flirting but you knew better. Loki didn’t flirt. He’d barley smile so he definitely was not flirting, although it didn’t stop you pretending he was in the comfort of your room.

After showering and putting on an oversized top, you then began to lay under your covers getting comfortable. Closing your eyes, you began to think of what it was you’d dream of and with this, you waited for sleep to take you.

Sleep wasn’t coming. Despite how tired you were, sleep was hiding from you. Well only one thing that’s going to help me now you thought reaching into the draw at the side of your bed. You smiled at the sight of your new best friend. With 12 different intensity levels, pressure technology and a g spot extension, you’d be knocked out soon enough.

Soft whimpers began to leave your mouth as you bucked your hips at the contact from the toy. Right now you were just setting the mood.

Turning up the intensity, you started thinking of him. His raven locks that shaped his face as he’d gaze into your eyes. His striking features. His body. Oh the things you’d do to that body.

Upping the intensity even more, you then thought about his elegant fingers. How they’d feel tormenting you, dancing around your clit. His tongue. How he’d torture you with it, licking every part of your body until you’d writhe underneath him. How he’d use his cock to choke you. How he’d bend you over and fuck you violently as you begged for him to go deeper. Harder. Wow that went dark you thought as you turned the intensity even higher.

At this point, you were a wet, screaming mess. Not that you knew. The thought of you riding Loki was driving you insane. Looking longingly into his eyes as you bounced on top of him. His pants and praises filling the room along with your cries and gasps. His hands grabbing your hips thrusting into you every time you both connected.

You were so close. You knew that this orgasm was going to leave you sleeping for days. This orgasm was going to feel euphoric. This orgasm was…

Interrupted by a distressed Loki barging into your room.

The sight of him, topless, was enough. That was the thing that pushed you over the edge. You were literally squirting.

“Lo—L-LOK”

“I thought something had happened, you were screaming” Loki replied, worry evident in his tone as he tore his gaze from you and turned around.

“G-ghe—GET OoOUt”

And with that Loki was gone.

Wow

A/N: 🤣 I thought this was quite funny. Should I do another part? Maybe Lokis POV or something. LMK.

[sinisterexaggerator]

Stars Above! | Cad Bane

Chapter 12

Explicit: Slow Burn, Gratuitous Smut, Porn with Plot, Canon-Typical Violence, Mildly Dubious Consent, Angst, Tatooine Slave Culture

This chapter: Blood, gore, death, physical injury.

Notes: To me, Jabba has more than one or two Rancors. This is not Muchi, and this is not Pateesa. This may very well be the mother of Pateesa because I say so ;D (the Rancor Luke Skywalker eventually kills).

Word count: 4.3k

[ Ao3 ] - [ Masterpost ]

《 Previous Chapter || Next chapter 》

“If I had known you planned to kill him, I wouldn’t have brought him here,” Boba Fett stated openly before his audience with Jabba upon his throne.

“Boba… Jee oidn't. Made pej oecision oefying jeesh.”  

Boba Fett was Jabba’s favorite - it was a well-known fact – the young hunter assumed he might be able to use this to his advantage at the present juncture. Though it was true he did not care about, or even like his former mentor, still, he was a skilled and adept hunter who didn’t deserve to go down like that. To be tricked, electrocuted, made to be food for a hungry rancor - it didn’t sit well; he thought Brainee should be ashamed, though perhaps a fitting end. It might also be said Boba had the idea to one day take Bane out himself - to prove once and for all he was the fastest gun – to break the draw. The honor should be his.

“He defied you out of loyalty to his client, and what Brainee did was reprehensible."

Brainee came forward then, one finger extended in a show of contempt and malice. He thought it only fair after what he had been exposed to: a weapon against his head. “Bane threatened me. He pulled his blaster on me! He said he was going to come back for me if I lied to him! I am sure he would have killed me if it suited him.”

“Perhaps, but face-to-face, and maybe just don’t lie,” he offered with a hidden smirk beneath his viewplate.

“So, that’s an excuse? Let me just … wait around to be murdered “nobly” by one of the least moral bounty hunters of our time. You speak of loyalty. He is loyal when it’s to his benefit. Bane is better off dead.”

Brainee had a point; it shut him up. Boba returned his gaze to Jabba through his helmet’s visor. “Do not release the rancor. Maybe I can talk some sense into him.”

“Toooh alay, Boba. Chuga.”

“It is not too late unless you say it is, Jabba. - Hungry? Cad Bane will hardly be a meal.”

“Stang something else shash eat.”

“And if I do, you will release him?”

“Jee widd think ooout lo.”

“I suppose that’s better than nothing. Fine. It shall be done.” Boba left the palace in a flurry, off to find some other type of quarry. An animal, perhaps a bantha or a massif, something, anything, that would satiate the rancor’s appetite along with Jabba’s. That might be the only way to spare the hunter’s life, despite the Hutt only saying he would “think about it.”

Brainee sneered, his expression sullied with his bitterness, though deep down he was worried for himself. If Bane escaped unscathed, his own life would be forfeit, yet he would bet all his credits on Jabba’s pet.

“Better hurry, Fett. He won’t last long down there,” he japed.

---

Cad Bane had passed out for some ten minutes, not realizing where he was until he noted his limbs were still entangled in the lithesome net. His appendages were bound; his hat had fallen off; he coughed. He tasted the distinctive flavor of his blood.

The Duros wormed his hand down, fingers inching toward his leather boots. He bypassed beneath the edge, burrowing the tips until he grasped what he was looking for - the tool that would set him free.

He actuated the humming blade, slicing through the netting, the vibroknife easily shearing the thin strips apart to release his body from its captivity. Every movement stung; he was forced to bend to cut his feet loose. He coughed again, wiping his mouth off on the back of his gloved hand.

Sure enough, there was a streak of emerald green. He took a haggard breath, rising to his full stature, then grasping at his chest. He raised his voice, bellowing to the crime lord above, knowing the Hutt could hear him speak, or hear him scream, depending, for the rancor had not yet been freed and Cad was dreading it.

“Jabba! Let me outta dhis damn pit! Might jus’ spare yer life if ye act quick.”

Not the best choice of words, though Cad’s temper could not be pacified once it had been set aflame, but the bounty hunter was in no position to make empty threats.

His verbalized ill intent only seemed to tick the slimeball off, as the gears began to turn on the gate that housed the beast, the Duros grimacing with nearly every inhalation of stale oxygen. It smelled down here.

“Fek,” Cad mumbled to himself, listening to the telltale clinks and grinding of the metal as he backed a pace away, staring at empty space.

Bane knew that she was there, he could sense her; he could feel the creature’s presence, and there was a shadow looming just beyond the darkened threshold of the cage’s maw.

A deafening roar filled the chamber, though Bane’s ear canals were shielded by his skullcap, a towering hulk of muscle and reptilian flesh stepping forward at a pace that was almost leisurely.

Cad studied his adversary, swooping down to scoop his hat up and holster his fallen blaster. He placed the bolero atop his crown, ignoring his own pain for now as he fully faced the monster who slowly bore down upon him. He gave a final warning, hoping that the Hutt might rein her in.

“Unless ye want me te kill dhis thing, ye betta’ wise up, Hutt.”

He was met with no response but a thick, gruff laughter, Bane’s elliptic eyes narrowing into slits. He dug into a pouch he kept attached to his gun belt and retrieved a thermal detonator, impressing a finger upon its trigger.

He tossed it at the rancor but his attempt was thwarted. The creature knocked it back with a sudden extension of its lengthy arm.

“Sspast,” was all he had time to say, dodging and rolling, just as the trill of the small explosive increased, signifying the device was about to splinter. Cad ignited his Mitrinomon thrusters with a quick push of a button on the underside of his forearm gauntlet to travel airborne in reverse.

He tipped his hat down low midflight over his sensitive eyesight, protecting it as the baradium compound became unstable within the tiny sphere, washing the rancor’s dining room in a deadly glow.

The explosion made the rancor even angrier as Bane was thrown against the rock wall just behind him, his hearing ringing in his ears, the white-hot flash of luminescence overtaking half the den’s expanse. He shut his eyes tight beneath his hat, feeling the pain shoot up his spine and back. He cursed himself, thinking this day had gone to kark from the very start.

The creature, though disoriented, ran forward toward him. She swiped at the Duros who had to duck. He activated one gauntlet’s flamethrower, scaring the salivating mess enough to make her ambulate backward on her stubby legs.

“Piss off!!” Cad growled grouchily at the flat-faced being, his own fangs bared, though once the flames died down she returned to her attack.

Bane maneuvered sporadically, gripping cold stone to support himself; the beast retreated with another burst of fire encountering her gaping, tooth-filled mouth.

It gave the hunter sufficient time to recuperate and to gain his footing. He curled his fingers and flicked his wrist, encapsulating one of the monster’s armored arms with his conductive whipcord launcher. Its skin was tough like leather, and perhaps blaster resistance, but a friendly jolt might quiet her enough to sit down and shut up, or so the Duros hoped.

Cad was wheezing as he turned the dial to his contact stunners; it reached max threshold, a bolt of electric blue riding the length of the cable in a zigzag pattern. It found its mark, the rancor giving a choked cry of desperation before it became a kind of pathetic whimper, the animal thrashing against the makeshift leash that encased her limb.

“Don’ like dhat, do ye, ye sow?!” the Duros sizzed, digging his soles into the ground to retain his traction, the creature flailing its head to the left and right.

Bane held his arm steady, activating the sinewy tissue in his biceps. He was lean, gangly, but he wasn’t weak, though the oversized monstrosity began to shortened the distance between them. She tugged on the wire that restricted her; Cad administered another shock.

He was tired, in pain, and bleeding internally, though he kept his cool intact. It took every bit of his remaining strength not to let the rancor win.

Bane shouted out to the audience above; the hunter was leaning toward the cusp of going feral. He had a bone to pick, and he’d wind up gnawing on it before the night was done. “Hutt! S’over. Gonna burn dhis thing te a crisp unless ye-”

“Bane.” He heard Fett call his name, the Duros’ attention diverting momentarily. He caught sight of Boba with a rope loosely held within one hand, the other end drawn taut around a Dewback’s thick, beefy neck. He had come in through the service entrance. Caretakers most likely utilized this path in order to feed and maintain Jabba’s prized possession, though this bit of negligence gave the larger reptile an in to nearly end Cad Bane.

The whipcord tightened; it tensed; it became inflexible. The rancor drew Bane in, giving him seconds to react. His body was jerked forward, upward, one massive claw rising to strike. Cad slammed his palm against the quick release built into his gadgetry, the line connecting him to the rancor severed, and just in time.

However, the beast’s arms were elongated; they stretched to lengths beyond a standard reach to capture prey. Cad reactivated the thrusters on his boots in order to try and zip away.

He put just enough space between them to avoid the full brunt of her deadly swing; he felt the sting. The rancor’s nails stripped a layer of Bane’s armor clean through to his scales. The Nashtah-hide tunic was ripped to shreds, his chest exposed, grazed by the animal’s filthy talons as the force of the slap pushed him into jagged rock.

Bane rebounded involuntarily; he crumbled onto his knees, the contraption on his arm short-circuiting – it shot sparks. This was it. He couldn’t take another blow. It was Boba’s fault. He had distracted him, though the boy now spoke a word: the rancor’s name.

“Seuffa. Here, girl. Look here.”                     

Bane turned his neck, slowly, as he gasped for breath, his apparatus whirring as it compensated, releasing extra oxygen from the canister that resided along his back, though now it leaked as it had cracked at the force of his most recent impact. He watched, stunned, as Boba led the rancor off, coaxing it to follow in the opposite direction from where the Duros struggled to stand on his own two legs; he seemed to be a natural.

Cad heard the crunch of bones - the wailing of the Dewback - the smaller cold-blood’s death rattle. He tried to walk, though he stumbled from side-to-side like a drunken man who had more than his fair share of ale, his broad fingers splayed across his burning lungs.

When Fett returned, he paused to study him. He realized Bane was worse off than he had first observed; he needed help, or a bacta pod, which Boba was well aware of the fact he had one on his ship if he could only convince him to take his assistance.

“Bane, this way. Let us go through the tunnels.”

Cad had a second wind; his brow ridge narrowed in malevolence. He hissed in hatred at Boba Fett, his cuspids revealed to the sockets that lined his gums. He nearly spat his words. “Don’ need yer help, and Ah’m goin’ out de way Ah came!”

Bane withdrew both LL-30’s, pulling one trigger after the other as he aimed up high, forging a man-sized hole in the metal grate that barred him from Jabba’s antechamber. He heard sounds of shock; screams; the shuffling of feet. He slammed his hand down haphazardly upon an array of buttons until he forced his boots to fire. He went skyward with Boba right behind him.

The other hunter had launched himself with the jetpack housed across his shoulders, meaning to stop Cad’s vindictive revenge in its tracks, but before he could ascend and manage to halt the Duros’ instinctual inclinations, he had already lain Brainee out, the Siniteen stewing in a pool of his own viscera and blood – he was riddled with more than twenty shots; burns and scorch marks.

“Bane,” Boba enunciated sternly, though Cad had whisked around; he ignored him, storming forward to mount the dais where Jabba resided. He sucked in all his pain, his anguish, skirting the Hutt’s tail and implanting the barrel of his Persuader against the slug creature’s wide cranium.

The crime lord howled as no one in the room knew what to do. Even Bib Fortuna cowered, having rightfully kept his mouth shut since the start; he was the Hutt’s righthand man, though he wasn’t stupid.

The only other figure who bothered to step forward was the silhouette of a woman; she was tall and thin, rivaling Bane’s own wiry physique. She crossed her arms; she leaned into her hip, a look of curious incredulity spanning her ghoulish face.

Aurra Sing waited patiently, drumming her long fingers across her naked elbow. Her jumper had no sleeves with which to impede her skills, though her weapons, her rifle remained slung across her back. She would ascertain her own role in all of this once Fett said his piece.

She had arrived late to the scene; she had not been here to see Bane fall into the rancor’s den - where Fett was, Aurra was not far behind, as well as the rest of the Krayt’s Claw syndicate.

This situation was new to her, but there had to be a reason for it. She respected Cad, they had worked many jobs together. He was not one to give himself over to emotions without an explanation or a justifiable rationale.

“Stay outta dhis, Fett,” Bane seethed, his eyes molten like the lava of Mustafar. His gaze wandered briefly to his former colleague, a hunter who had also taken Boba beneath her wing. They were not on the best of terms, though it could not be said they hated one another, yet he stood his ground, unsure if Aurra planned to hinder him.

When no one moved a muscle he got close enough to smell him, tasting the putrid flavor of the Hutt upon his lips. His disgusting scent permeated; it traveled, encompassing his olfactory organs. Bane would have retched his guts out if he weren’t so consumed with cutting fury.

“Cad Bane let'z make oeal.  Let jeesh boll an jee  widd give uba 100,000 credits an jee-jee seel norget beet evah happened.”

“He wants to make a deal, Cad,” Boba translated hurriedly, hoping the lure of credits would appease the hunter and call to his base needs - his love of money. “He says he will give you one hundred thousand credits if you let him go and he will forget this ever happened.”

“Warned ye! Gonna hafta do better n’dhat,” Bane’s canines clicked as he felt like biting him; he would not be satisfied until he mocked and ridiculed the worm who called himself a Daimyo. “Wanna know why Ah’m here? Ah’ll tell ye, scuzzball.”

Bane pressed the barrel further inward even as his other hand gripped at his ribs. He was depleted; the ache in his bones was catching up to him. If he wasn’t careful, someone would most assuredly take advantage of his weakness. It would be in his best interest to take the credits and leave while the going was still good, but not before he satiated his bitter indignation.

‘’Ere ‘cause yer weak! Don’ even know when ye got smugglers runnin’ weapons under yer nose. Seperatists still kickin; Tour’s payin’ me te flush ‘em out. Look at’cha; missin’ out on all dhat tribute.”

Jabba squelched a sound of outage with Bane’s LL-30 still so close to his massive head, his tiny arms waving in lividness as he fought back many hostile words. though there was something there; something he could use; he would tempt the hunter with an even bigger reward to right his agitation.

“Stang these smugglers shu an jee widd oouble haku Tour Aryan paying uba!”

“He says bring the smugglers to him, and he will double what the governess is paying you,” Boba relayed quickly.

It was tempting, but Bane knew better. He had already said too much; he had spoken the nature of his task, but his temper had been such that he was unable to control himself.

“Ain’t sellin’ out,” he stated tersely. It was more matter-of-fact than charged with heavy feelings. The Duros was calming down; he did not want to be a failure in the eyes of his clientele. The Empire was a steady source of income this day and age.

“’Ere’s de deal: Ye stay out m’business. Ye give me one hundred thousand creds’ naht te kill ye. Ye let me walk. Don’t exspect te be seein’ me no more.”

“Agreed, Murishani.” Jabba answered without thinking.

“Double-cross me, ye die. Ah’ll find a way te do ye in if it’s de last thing Ah ever accomplish in dhis God’s fersaken galaxy.”

Bane relinquished; he dropped his blaster though he kept a wary eye on everyone around him. He stumbled off the platform, droplets of dark jade leaving a trail with every step he took.

He passed Aurra; he tipped his hat to her before laggardly trudging onward. He paused at the entrance of the palace, his fingers clamping down upon the edge of the last partition that separated him from the outside world.

He barely reached the darkened corridor that would lead him beyond Jabba’s residence as he kept one hand upon his weapon’s holster; it was a warning to the others, anyone who would try to fool with him in this condition. Injured animals in the wild would fight to the very last.

Boba watched him go as he propelled himself with a push from off the wall and around the corner. He would follow, but not before Jabba had given him a new set of orders. The clone glanced to Aurra as the Daimyo spoke, knowing that he would need her help on this; also Bossk and Dengar’s.

“Nind beet ulwan, an stang hoohat jeesh. Jee widd doo hoohat before Tour Aryan.”

“Yes, Jabba.” His new job was to bring the gunrunners to the Hutt before Cad could track them down, yielding them to Tour Aryan. It was a game of chance – let the best hunter win out in the end.

Boba nodded once -  a brief show of supplication to his employer before briskly turning to supervene behind the Duros - Aurra made to join him, but he held one hand aloft.

“Wait here for now,” he commanded with placid authority. She obeyed, though scowling, having little in the way of patience. If he had been any other man …

---

Outside in the dark, Cad Bane fiddled with his comlink, the set of switches that would signal the Justifier to his whereabouts. He received nothing but static from the other end as the device scintillated; miniscule sparks and wayward bolts of electricity nearly electrified his fingers. His face contorted in a show of unamused annoyance as he called his droid, “Todo, come in. Need a pick-up.”

He smacked his gauntlet; it only injured him. He growled out loud; he was frustrated beyond belief as he took a rasping breath. Bane realized he would have to walk it back. He had no way to contact his good-for-nothing robot, no way to summon his ship to him. A weaker man would have sat down in the sand.

It would be ironic to survive all this only to die out in the desert.

Bane put one foot forward and began the long trek into town where his ship was docked at the spaceport in Mos Eisley. Every part of him was suffering; his body, his mind; his psyche. He dipped his head to look at his open wound; the blood would most likely alert a predator. He was thankful he at least still had his blasters, though it was only a small consolation as he could hardly move.

“Bane,” a voice rather softly behind him said. He felt a hand rest atop his shoulder. The Duros jumped; he whirled around, his own hand coming to swipe at Boba’s as he skittered back. He thought to shoot him, blue digits itching at the grip of one seated pistol.

“Keep yer hands off me,” he spat.

“Bane, what are you doing? You'll never make it,” he said with a stern, yet careful calmness.

“Why d'ye care. Yer de one who brought me ‘ere!” Cad retorted, eyes flaring as his temper began to rise once more.

“I had no idea things would turn out so badly. I didn’t think-”

“Nah, ye didn’ think, did ye?” Bane turned again, marching onward, though sluggish; he was slow.

“You need help,” Boba did not relent; he kept on following him, matching his speed to walk along beside the irate grump.

“Don’ want it! Dhat’s what’s wrong with ye. Told ye dhat. Too compassionate.”

Bane ignored him otherwise, physically pretending he wasn’t there right at his side. Cad refused to look at him, instead facing the sprawling dunes he would have to conquer in order to get back to his ship alive.

“Would you have me work for the Empire then? To be like you?”

“A job’s a job, but maybe so. Need a lil’ backbone.” Bane took a breath that rattled, nearly dropping to one knee. He righted himself before he could fall, however unsteadily.

“Bane, you’re going to die out here if you try to walk all the way back to Mos Eisley, if you care.”

“Dhen so be it,” the Duros responded flatly.

Boba stopped in his footsteps. He let him meander another pace or two away. He removed his blaster; he aimed it at his former mentor and took his shot – it was set for stun - Fett only shook his head.

“Stubborn old fool. Your pride will be the death of you.”

---

Boba made the effort to drag Cad back to an awaiting land speeder. It was Brainee’s, but he would not be needing it again. He situated him in the best possible position: stretched out so as not to cause him any more undue pain.

Fett had no idea why he was even doing this; the Duros didn’t want his help. Should he find him aboard his ship alongside Todo, who knew what he would do. There might even be another duel.

Ultimately, he might have felt a small amount of guilt. He had once admired him, then he had tried to take his life. Disagreements happened all the time; he had learned to watch his back. Even Aurra had come crawling when he least expected it. Still, he had been the one to betray Bane; he had wanted off the job, and was willing to protect those people. If he had stuck it out, maybe there would have been another way for him to get his way.

Yet despite his crookedness, Boba could not leave him there alone in the harsh climate of the planet Tatooine – not in his condition - it was an unforgiving place. Besides, he would be eaten by a massif, or some other carnivorous creature like a sandswimmer, perhaps. In this state he was a sitting mynock.

It was the thoughts of those times he fed him, put him to bed, or let him cry to him that solidified Fett’s resolve; the times they had spent together with his father, Jango.  

Maybe Bane was right: he was too soft. However, he supposed the man might thank him one day if their paths ever crossed again.

Instead of going directly to the port where he knew the Justifier remained unattended except most likely by his droid, Boba did what he thought was best; he needed someone to monitor and care for him, and it could not be him.

Bane would not stand for that. It was ridiculous; ludicrous to even entertain it, though this woman he had taken a fancy to seemed like she might be the type to attend to his needs and wounds.

Fett left the speeder running as he approached her simple dwelling. Bane was still knocked out cold, thankfully unconscious, as he would have surely protested. He had not noticed that his own armor was coated with a thin sheen of sticky green.

He rapped three times and waited, glancing back to note the Duros’ breath was shallow. He needed bacta.

He had forgotten his appearance; his helmet was still on. The girl answered and mildly gasped. She appeared frightened, her fingers gently grasping at the edge of her hut’s doorframe as she studied him; her eyes were two different colored jewels that sparkled in the night.

Fett cleared his throat; she was in nothing but a nightgown. Her raven hair was down and framed her face of a lovely shade of purple, or maybe pink. It was unique. He fumbled for his words, deciding to remove his beskar headgear first, his handsome face revealed along with dark locks of chocolate brown.

“Who-who are you?” she meekly stuttered. “What do you want? It’s late. Perhaps you have the wrong address.” She moved to press the button that would close the door; Boba stuck his boot out and halted her.

“Come with me.”

Her lower lip quivered; perhaps she thought she was being kidnapped, or forced into coercion by this strange person who expressed his necessity of her.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know w-”

“It’s Bane. He needs help.” Fett moved to the side, giving her a clear view of the vehicle that resided close behind him. He took this time to observe her - the golden slave collar at her throat – she was beautiful. Boba could see why the Duros favored her.

The girl’s expression changed; her eyebrows furrowed inward in a state of pure alarm as she caught sight of Cad in the backseat of the land speeder. She moved to rush beyond him; her hand reached out; he blocked her path using his right arm as a barrier to access. “Get dressed first, and hurry.”

She reluctantly stayed silent, tears forming in her eyes, then turned around to obey his hushed command.

---

Masterlist

Sorry for the long wait.

Note about Aurra and Boba’s relationship

[captainseaweedbrains]

The Dance of the Color Guard, Op. 64 Ch. 3

Everlark meets marching band meets enemies to friends to lovers.

Tumblr: X X X

Read on Ao3: X X X

May  

There wasn’t a single childhood memory Katniss could pull that didn’t involve Peeta Mellark. Try as she might to ever forget they were friends—and she tried her hardest to forget—it was next to impossible. Peeta and her were, once upon a time, inseparable. Glued at the hip. Her parents used to tease that only the moonlight could separate them and even then, in the summertime, Peeta spent many nights sleeping on the living room floor next to her, giggling as they watched movies and ate popcorn, Prim snoring beside them. 

And then with her dad being an avid photographer, there were boxes of family albums documenting Katniss and Prim growing up throughout the years. From first steps to bath times together to dance and music recitals—her dad documented it all. “For future biographers,” he used to joke whenever Katniss would complain why they always had to take a picture of  everything. She’d roll her eyes in response and just let him snap away. There was no stopping the man. Now she wished she could take back all her tweenage-angst and let him take as many photos as he wanted of her. But she didn’t know what she knew now. Thus was life. 

On the rare occasion when he relented with the camera and accepted that she was not going to cooperate with any poses he suggested, Peeta was more than happy to step in and take her place, joking how his many admirers at school would kill for a candid photo of him. “It’s not candid if you’re posing, stupid,” she used to tell him, but he’d kindly tell her to shut her piehole and offer up suggestions on where to take the picture next, her dad eating Peeta’s enjoyment up with each click of the shutter. 

Peeta was in a  lot  of her family photos. It was impossible to flip through any family album after Katniss had turned three and not find him. Due to his parents constantly working at their family bakery turned mini corporation, Peeta and his older brother Rye were often left to fend for themselves and from early morning until sundown, Rye would kick Peeta out of the house and lock the door. Rye’s dickish behavior was actually how the two met—Katniss hearing Peeta screaming across their yard, asking if he was dying because he was crying by his back door, fists slamming the glass. 

“No,” he sniffed, rubbing his puffy red eyes. “My brudder—l-l-locked—me—o-o- ooout!” Peeta hiccupped, his hysteria growing with each syllable until he was back to crying for Rye to let him in.

“My daddy’s makin’ pancakes,” Katniss offered from her deck. “He makes them with funny faces and makes them sing. Want some?” 

There probably should have been some type of introduction between them before Katniss invited this total stranger into her home, but when Peeta came in with her, her dad just smiled and told him to pull up a chair. Names were finally exchanged over gooey chocolate chip pancakes and they became instant friends. 

After that, instead of crying when Rye would inevitably lock him out of his own home, Peeta would cross over to the Everdeen’s yard and walk on in, shouting out his greetings to whoever was in the kitchen at the time and seeing what she or her dad were up to for the day. There were countless memories of Katniss coming downstairs after playing with Prim and finding Peeta and her dad casually working together on the morning crossword puzzle at the kitchen table, or out in her mother’s garden doing yard work and chatting about everything and anything. He was always there, ready to hang out and see what she had in mind for them to do that day, and their photo albums showed it. Birthday parties, family dinners, sleepovers, holidays—there Peeta was, all smiles and dimples.

Peeta Mellark was a huge fixture in the Everdeen household until one day he just wasn’t. One day he was there, making her laugh so hard, milk came out her nose, and the next, he was gone and those boxes of happy family photos were just sad reminders of what used to be. 

No dad.

No best friend. 

It was fine. She was fine. 

Except maybe she wasn’t? It annoyed her that Peeta could still dig under her skin like that, his words in the locker room playing on repeat in her mind. At least her nerves about tryouts had a chance to calm down between stressing about Abernathy’s mocking jabs about her playing and her annoyance at Peeta thinking her a heartless loner. So what if she preferred to do things alone? It meant she was independent, mature for her young age. Was that such a bad thing? 

And what was up with accusing her of not being there for people? Not caring for them? Did she have to remind him that he made his choice and ditched  her ? That the second her dad died, he split? Was he ever really her friend, or was he just using her to get to her dad because his dad wasn’t around? Katniss had been wondering that for years, but didn’t have the courage to ask because she just knew if she did, she’d start to cry and shout at him and maybe shove him a bit and he and his stupid friends would laugh and probably call her a psychopath bitch.

What a fucking hypocrite Peeta Mellark was, calling her heartless when he was guilty of so much worse. 

The final bell rang at last, freeing everyone for the day. Katniss was so caught up in her anger over Peeta and Mr. Abernathy and really, just everyone at this point, that she almost forgot about the call sheet posting. Almost. As soon as Madge reminded her, asking if she wanted to walk over there with her and Gale, all those nerves resurfaced as they headed over to the band room. She kept discreetly wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans, preparing herself to be disappointed, to expect someone like Glimmer to get it, but please, whoever was listening up there, please let her have made captain. If this crappy hellish day could give her just one thing, let it be that.

“I can’t look,” Katniss panicked when she saw the neon pink sign taped to the window connecting to the band office, halting in her steps. “If I didn’t make captain, I don’t know what I’ll do. Punch something?” 

Madge rolled her eyes and offered to check for her. “If Trinket didn’t make you captain, she clearly tripped in those heels and is suffering from some head trauma. Let’s see.” Her manicured finger scrolled down the long list of names until stopping on the Es. “Hm. Katniss, I don’t see your name on here at all.”

Her heart jolted. “What? That can’t be.” She wasn’t positive on being captain, but she was positive she’d at least make the  team  . Were the theatre and dance kids really that much better? She shoved Gale and Madge aside, looking for her name. Abrams...Banks...Carroll...Daly...Edwards...Evans...  Everdeen! And there was an asterisk next to her name! She was captain of next season’s color guard!

“You asshole!” she laughed, shoving Madge in the shoulder. “I’m captain!” She couldn’t help the large smile stretching across her face. She was captain! 

“You are!” Madge cheered, giving her a big tight hug. “Congratulations, Katniss! I’m so proud of you!” 

“Totally not surprised,” Gale said, messing up her hair in a brotherly fashion. She shoved his hand away and gave a playful glare. “And what about my favorite guard member?” he asked, looking down at Madge. “Did you make it, too?” 

Madge gave him a sweet smile and looked further down the list before pumping her fists in excitement. “I did! I made it! Take that Shelly Shoemon from 4th grade for saying I had the coordination skills of a cow!” 

“Totally not surprised,” Gale said again, laughing as he pulled his girlfriend in for a kiss. They locked lips for a while before Katniss cleared her throat and suggested they get a room if they wanted to continue. The couple smiled, Madge’s freckled cheeks tinted pink, but broke apart, their hands remaining clasped together. 

“Should we head over to Sae’s for burgers and ice cream to celebrate?” Gale suggested. “Thom just paid me for fixing his car, so I have the cash to spend.” Both girls happily agreed to his suggestion, excited to share the news with Sae, the diner’s owner and local grandmother to anyone under the age of 40. Good news didn’t feel real until sharing it with Sae. 

“Katniss,” Miss Trinket shouted from somewhere in her office, “is that you?” Her head popped out the doorway, startling the three. “Excellent, dear! I’ve been waiting to speak with you about something. Come in! Come in!” Her hand motioned for her to follow.

“Oh.” Katniss looked over at Gale and Madge, unsure what to say. “Am I in trouble?” 

Miss Trinket laughed. “No, not at all! I just need to discuss some color guard things with my new  captain.” She sang the last word, putting great emphasis on the middle consonants, and glared behind her at, presumably, Mr. Abernathy who probably said something rude in a remark.

“Sure, yeah,” Katniss said, feeling a bit dumb. Of course Miss Trinket wanted to jump right into the thick of things. The woman was the Energizer Bunny on crack when it came to choreography and scheduling. Of course she’d want to talk to her captain about the game plan and how she expected they execute it. “I’m free to talk.” Miss Trinket smiled and stepped back in her office. 

Katniss turned to Madge and Gale, wearing an apologetic smile . “I’ll meet you at Sae’s?” They nodded, not minding the wait, and wished her luck, telling her to text when she was leaving school.

*********

The first thing Katniss noticed amiss when stepping into the adjoined office was Peeta Mellark casually sitting there in front of Mr. Abernathy’s desk, flipping through a pile of sheet music. It wasn’t unusual for band students to volunteer time helping the surly man try to keep the band program organized, but it seemed a little late for a volunteer to still be in here. Abernathy and Trinket were a lot to take and only bearable in small, manageable doses. Most booked it the second the bell rang. 

She paused in the doorway, unsure if she misunderstood Miss Trinket. She meant for them to talk now, right? So what was Peeta doing here?

“Ah, Katniss,” Miss Trinket said, sifting through a stack of notes, not noticing her hesitation. “Take a seat, please.” She motioned to the wooden chair in front of her desk. 

Still unsure what was going on, Katniss gingerly sat down in the offered chair, her bag in her lap, and waited to see what exactly Miss Trinket wanted to talk about with Peeta still here. Guard stuff wasn’t technically private, but it’s not like it was riveting information either. Something didn’t feel right here.

Miss Trinket cleared her throat, catching Katniss’ attention from not looking at Peeta, and folded her hands on top of her desk with a bright, fluorescent smile. “Katniss, I want to be the first to congratulate you on a job well done. Your audition was truly inspiring. Honestly, I wish I could have taped it to show future guard members what true dedication looks like.” Katniss’ cheeks darkened at her director’s lavish compliments. 

“Thank you, Miss Trinket,” she said quietly, feeling a tad uncomfortable being told this in front of Peeta and Mr. Abernathy. “I tried my hardest.” 

“And it shows, dear. It truly shows.” The assistant director looked down at her notes, reading from one of the piles she was sifting through earlier, her long fingernails idly tapping the top metal surface in thought. “In fact,” she said, “I was so impressed with your audition, I’ve decided to make you a very prominent figure in this season’s show. The show’s leading star, as it were.” 

“I’m—um. What?” And then Miss Trinket proceeded to happily explain her vision for how their band was going to tell the tragic tale of Romeo and Juliet, with the occasional grunts from Mr. Abernathy here and there. She explained how she envisioned the houses being represented by the color guard and drumline, feuding together on the field as the music from the band crescendos to the climatic finish.

“Next to you, Katniss,” Miss Trinket said, holding up what looked like a handwritten list of names, “I haven’t quite decided who will play who for color guard, but we have time to iron out these details, dear. What concerns me is how long it is taking Boggs to decide who made it for drumline.” Her eyes slitted at Abernathy. “It seems someone forgot to pass along the deadline I imposed so we could avoid this exact problem.” Mr. Abernathy just gave a noncommittal shrug and continued flipping through the scorebook he was looking at. Miss Trinket rubbed at the corner of her eyes and gave Katniss an exasperated look before continuing on. 

“It took some wheedling to get him to bend to my will, but I do believe many of our seasonal veterans are returning to drumline this year, Peeta being one of them.” She smiled warmly at the boy. For someone finding out good news, Peeta looked bored out of his mind sitting there, listening as Miss Trinket prattled on about visions and forbidden love and what this will mean for the band come competition season.

This all felt like a lot. Like a lot a lot.  

“So let me get this straight,” Katniss said slowly, trying to process it all and not throw up like her stomach wanted. “You want me to be Juliet? Like the Juliet who falls in love and dies at the end? That Juliet?”

If it was at all possible, Miss Trinket’s smile grew, making Katniss feel even sicker. “The very one, my dear! Oh, Katniss, I cannot tell you how  thrilled  I am to have you as our Juliet. I’ve had my guesses who you’d play for a while now, since I decided we should do  Romeo & Juliet a few months back, really.” Mr. Abernathy snorted at that but said nothing to contradict her. “But now, after seeing how much you’ve improved since last season? Truly inspiring! And with your tiny frame, I think we can finally bring air flips into the mix now!  Wouldn’t that look amazing under stadium lights?”

Katniss really felt like she was going to be sick now. “You want me to be a spotlight guard?” Her voice sounded a bit squeaky to her ears. “But that’s—I’ve never been a spotlight guard before! Especially not something to that kind of scale. They’re, like, really important. Like judges judging them important.” 

It was Peeta’s turn to laugh next to her, trying to cover it up with a cough when she turned to glare at him. Why was he here? 

Katniss took a deep breath in to try and quiet the loud ringing noise suddenly blaring in her ears. She was clearly not making a first good impression as captain, but this was so unexpected! Miss Trinket had never had her be a spotlight before. Ever. It was one thing being captain, but this, having her performance carry the entire story? Yeah, no thanks.  

“Are you sure you want it to be me?” she asked, her voice a lot calmer than she felt. “I was thinking you’d want someone like Madge—or Glimmer—for something this important. You’re always saying how swan-like Glimmer is on the field. Don’t you want Juliet to look like a swan?” 

“Told you she wouldn’t be for it,” Peeta muttered next to her, a knowing smile on his face as he shook his head in amusement. Oh, he just thought he knew everything about her, didn’t he? Like he was some Katniss Everdeen expert.

“Why are you even here?” she finally asked him. “This clearly has nothing to do with you. Can’t you file music somewhere else?” 

“Isn’t it a bit obvious why I’m here, Katniss?” he asked her incredulously, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “I thought you were more observant than this.”

Before she could reply, Miss Trinket held her hands up. “Enough! Peeta, I’ll kindly ask you to please sit there quietly, as we discussed.” Discussed? When did they have time to discuss this? Then she remembered earlier. Miss Trinket needing to speak with Peeta, breaking up their argument. They were discussing her? Why did Peeta have to know that Miss Trinket wanted her as Juliet. She was clearly missing something obvious, like Peeta said, but her mind was shot. Barely able to process anything anymore as her anxiety kicked into gear. 

“And, Katniss.” She looked up at the sound of her name. “Please keep an open mind about this. I understand to some, being a lead is scary, but trust me when I say, I have my absolute faith in you. 

“Madge and Glimmer are talented girls, yes,” Miss Trinket explained, “but I’m afraid they are too tall for what I have in mind for choreography. You know how important these things can be. We need someone petite like you, Katniss. Someone Peeta can easily pick up and twirl without fear of dropping.” She motioned a manicured hand at Peeta, his face staring at her expectantly. 

But Katniss’ brain was still running in circles. “Peeta’s not on guard. Why would he be picking me up?” 

Miss Trinket’s patient smile looked strained now. “As I already told you,” she said slowly, surely believing Katniss dense now, “Guard and drumline will be representing the two houses. Guard will be Capulet and drumline Montague. Peeta’s on drumline, so naturally he’d be our star Montague.” 

Her mind finally caught up to what everyone was suggesting. “Wait,” she said, sitting at the edge of her seat now. “If I’m Juliet and you’re saying he’s the star…” Her focus drifted to Peeta, who gave an amused, cocky wave, surely enjoying the multitude of emotions crossing her face in this moment. Her stomach dropped, this news hitting her harder than the spotlight one. “You’re Romeo?” 

Instead of just answering with a simple yes/no like a normal person, or even some Ding! Ding! Ding!  joke, Peeta lowered himself to the floor and responded in all his annoyingly obnoxious flair:  “‘But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.’” He closed his eyes on the last word and reached for her hand, giving it a gentle kiss, his lips soft and warm against her now clammy skin. She swatted her hand away, tucking it around her bag for protection. 

No. No, no, no. No! 

This had to be a mistake. Her and Peeta Mellark? As Romeo and Juliet? 

That was what Miss Trinket wanted to talk to him about, she realized. It wasn’t about her at all. She wanted to talk to him about being Romeo for the field show. 

“I don’t understand,” Katniss said at last, when her stomach had finally recovered itself. “How can  Peeta be Romeo when he’s going to be busy marching around with a snare drum? What about Finnick? He’s tall. Taller than Peeta, for sure. I’m sure he could just as easily lift me.” 

Was she seriously that desperate to prefer the preening peacock Finnick Odair? 

Yes, yes she was. 

“Finnick will most likely play our Tybalt,” Miss Trinket remarked. “And as he is on guard, he will play a Capulet role.” 

“What about gender bending the role?” Katniss suggested. “Who says Juliet has to be a girl? We are in the 21st century. And didn’t Shakespeare have men play the female roles, anyway? Let Finnick play Juliet to Peeta’s Romeo. He’d be perfect in the role.” 

“Should I feel insulted that you don’t want to be my partner, Katniss?” Peeta innocently asked, enjoying this way too much. Her fists gripped her bag hard, her eyes deadly slits. People often told her how intimidating she looked, but Peeta didn’t even bat an eye. He was all smiles and dimples. If only looks could kill...

“Katniss,” Miss Trinket said curtly, snapping her attention back on the director, “I chose you as my next in command because I trust in your talent and know you are a driven young woman who people look up to. Now we both want the pleasure of seeing this band win first place at PSU, don’t we?” 

“Yes, but—” 

“And we will do what is necessary to move this band toward that goal, correct?” 

“Of course, but—” 

“But nothing, Everdeen,” Mr. Abernathy interjected at last, kicking his feet off the tall pile of sheet music laying by his desk. “You want to win?” He shook his hand at her, not needing a response. “Stupid question. Of course you do. I can see it all over your face. You’re too competitive to hide it. Well, to win you have to please the judges. Plain and simple. Judges like this kind of flair nonsense. So play our star-crossed lovers—” 

“We’re not star-crossed lovers!” Katniss grit out, a bit harder than she intended, unable to look at Peeta as she said it. Not like it mattered. She could practically feel his amusement radiating off his person. “This won’t work, Mr. Abernathy. Don’t you want people who’ll get along? Peeta and I hate each other. We have for a really long time.” 

“Who cares?” Mr. Abernathy asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation, his longish black hair falling in his face from the motion. “Pretend. Act like your lovesick classmates. I don’t care. It’s all a big show, anyway, and if pairing you two up wins us enough brownie points to win and shuts Trinket up for a year, then that’s what we’re going to do. Mellark’s already agreed to it and he’s never danced a day in his life. So now it’s your turn to be a good girl and agree to the plan, Everdeen. Got it?” 

“Got it,” she muttered, slouching low in her chair. Of all the things she expected to hear today, pretending to be in love with Peeta Mellark was not one of them. This was definitely going to blow up in everyone’s faces, she was sure of it. Putting on a performance smile for judges was one thing, but acting like she was in love with Peeta was another. And then hoping he wouldn’t drop her when doing those stupid flips Miss Trinket mentioned? She was going to be in a body cast by the end of the season.

Peeta seemed to have dropped the amusement act at last, mirroring her sour mood as the two directors discussed extra one-on-one rehearsal time with Miss Trinket to better prepare Peeta since he had zero dance experience. Katniss tried to pay attention, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from glancing over at Peeta, wondering what he could possibly be thinking during all this. His jaw was clenched, she could tell, but he wasn’t looking at her or Trinket or even Abernathy. He was focusing on picking at a hole in his jeans, his eyebrows scrunched together. She understood the conflict—was feeling it herself—but he didn’t look mad. Just...troubled. Like something was said that he was having a hard time with.

Where to begin? Katniss thought bitterly, still unable to believe they were actually being forced to play Romeo and Juliet, like they were in some teenage drama or something.

“I know we have lots to work on, but just seeing the two of you together like this,” Miss Trinket said, motioning between them, “tells me I made the right decision. Look how adorable you two look! Pearls on a necklace! Didn’t I say that’s what they reminded me of, Haymitch?” She turned to Abernathy, who was now busy digging dirt from under his nails with his baton. Miss Trinket frowned before catching herself. “I did, I did! I said that earlier when I found you talking in the back.” She winked and oh god. Could they just go already?

********

It took another fifteen minutes of talking and goodbyes that were very much not goodbyes before they were truly free from the office. Katniss bolted out the side door as quickly as she could, cursing under her breath at how long she’d been in there. That took almost an hour! Madge and Gale were probably wondering what was taking so long. Or maybe not. It was Trinket, after all. 

The parking lot was nearly empty now as she crossed it, digging around for her battered up phone to text. Hopefully they were still up for burgers because after that talk...yeah. She needed the greasiest burger available. Wait until she tells her friends she’s playing Juliet and that Peeta Mellark was her Romeo. They might not believe her, thinking it a practical joke and asking what Trinket really wanted. That’s how absurd this whole situation sounded. 

“Katniss!” she heard her name called out. “Hey, wait up!” She turned and saw Peeta waving her down, his long legs quickly catching up to her. Part of her wanted to pretend she didn’t hear him and keep moving, her car just across the street from where she stood. It’d be a safer bet, too, moving along, because nothing good was ever said when she was upset. This afternoon being a prime example. But for some reason, she was curious what Peeta had to say about all this. She stopped at the street corner and pretended to check for traffic despite the road being empty of any moving vehicle. 

“Damn,” he laughed, a bit breathless as he caught up next to her. “I forgot how fast your fight or flight response is.” 

“I’m not fleeing,” she frowned, checking the street for real this time before crossing. She dug around the front pocket of her book bag, pulling out both her keys and phone. “School’s done and I’m going to Sae’s with Gale and Madge. You know, my friends.”

“I know who Gale and Madge are.” 

“Just checking,” she stated cooly, flipping her braid over her shoulder, “since you practically accused me of having none earlier.” 

He winced. “Yeah, not the finest thing I’ve ever said. I’m sorry about that.” 

She shrugged. “It’s fine, Peeta.” It wasn’t, but if she kept telling herself that, maybe she’ll believe it. “We can’t all be Mr. Popular like you.” 

“Right.” He looked back at the student parking lot where he parked. Unlike her family, his could afford the $350 the school charged for a parking space. “Listen, about what you said in there. About us hating each other.” Katniss raised an eyebrow, curious where this would lead. “I don’t...hate you.” 

Well that was...unexpected. Was that why he looked so troubled in the meeting? Because she said they hated each other? She took a step back from him, realizing he was closer than she felt comfortable with, and waited for the rest of it. It didn’t sound like he was finished, like there was a big but hanging at the end of his sentence. What else did he want to say?  But I still don’t really like you?  But I think you’re annoying and working with you is going to suck? But I think you’re a bitch? Honestly, the list could go on about all the negative things Peeta could say about her, but he said nothing. He just looked down at his shoes and kicked at some loose pebbles in the street. 

“Oh,” she said, unsure what else there was to say. “I guess that will make rehearsal easier.” 

He nodded, a bit too jerky to look natural. “Yeah. I just—it’s important to me that you know that I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. Mad beyond belief? Yeah. Lots of times, actually. But never hate. I could never hate you, Katniss.”

“Oh,” she said again, dumbfounded. “Well, thanks, Peeta. I guess. That’s... Good to know.” And just because her sour mood couldn’t help itself, “I’ll be able to sleep happy tonight knowing you don’t hate me.” She made a face, instantly regretting her words, and yanked open her car door, needing to just leave. “Listen, I gotta go. Gale and Madge are already waiting for me and Trinket took forever rambling about how we’re pearl necklaces. They’re waiting for me.” 

He didn’t say anything as she got in the car, the loud, embarrassing screech of her engine once on making any type of conversation near impossible to hold. He stepped away and gave a halfhearted wave, all bravado gone now, as she pulled away from the curb. By the time she thought to wave back, it was too late and her car was halfway down the street. 

God, she really was a heartless bitch.

*******

It was only hours later—after returning home from drowning her frustrations in the thickest chocolate shake Sae could make and celebrating her good news with her mom and sister over pizza—did she allow herself to think about Peeta Mellark. 

On a whim, she pulled the framed photo she kept of her and her dad off her nightstand and held it, her grip tightening as she studied the ridiculous faces they’re making at the camera. It was one of the last pictures they took together before his passing. She can’t remember what prompted them to make the faces, but she wished she could go back and make them again with him. To be with her dad for just one more day. One more hour, even. She’d do anything for that. 

Katniss closed her eyes and hugged the frame close to her chest for a moment, trying to stop any tears from slipping past her tight emotional control. She was safe to cry in her room, but wanted to wait until she was in bed with the lights turned off before crying over this emotionally draining day. 

When it felt like she had her emotions under control, Katniss used her longest fingernail to lift the tabs on the back of the frame and carefully took the picture out, unfolding the right-half of it to reveal a young curly-haired Peeta smiling up at her, her dad’s arm thrown over his shoulders. 

She stared at the full photo for the longest time, remembering how mad she was at him for taking this one simple thing from her. She never minded Peeta being in her family photos before. She sometimes pulled him in for ones when her dad or mom shouted, “Picture time! Show us your pearly whites!” But that was when she still thought they’d have more time. Why wouldn’t there be more time? Dads weren’t supposed to die until you were old and had kids of your own. That’s how it was  supposed to be. They weren’t supposed to die when you’re eleven and barely old enough to understand the cruelty of the world. The unfairness of it all. 

Katniss barely remembered a time when it was just her and her dad. Alone. No Peeta. No Prim. Just Dad and her. 

She didn’t even have a good photo of just the two of them.

Just boxes upon boxes of photos of him, her, and Peeta. 

The magical trio.

The full photo didn’t bring up any past resentment this time, though. Instead, it reminded her how much fun the three of them used to have, bumming around town while Aunt Lulu watched Prim at her shop, singing along to the radio and playing Punch Buggy. Her dad always made it a point to include Peeta on any outing they made, even if it involved going to the grocery store. How disappointed Dad would be seeing us now, she thought, tracing over his face with her thumb. Her and Peeta not friends anymore.

But Peeta Mellark doesn’t hate her. Katniss didn’t understand why hearing that felt like a weight had lifted off her, but she felt lighter now, the more she thought about it. Like it was easier to breathe again.

“Peeta Mellark doesn’t hate me,” she whispered to the photo, the words tasting sweet on her tongue. A small smile pulled at her lips and she said it again. “He doesn’t hate me, Dad.” 

Katniss didn’t understand why Peeta thought it was important she knew he didn’t hate her, but it was all her mind kept thinking of, and she was glad to hear it. 

He didn’t hate her. He never had.

[mlpdestinyverse]

Impasse

Skychaser meets Astral Dusk and the two have a...”disagreement”.

Feat.  Skychaser, Astral Dusk, Dreamaria Flow, Eventide Twister

Story and Description Under The Cut

"Hey, are you writing one of your poems?" Skychaser couldn't help his curiosity. He leaned in closer to a certain younger pegasus next to him, the mare attentively focused on the notebook in her hooves. In turn, Eventide Twister quietly peered up at the stallion. The two ponies were waiting together outside of an old shop, leaning against its wall in the cool shade. The third and last member of their group had yet to arrive, which left both Skychaser and Eventide to distract themselves in the meantime. Skychaser had allowed a comfortable silence to form between them, mindful that being left alone with him made things a bit awkward for the silent mare. If there was anything Sky wanted, it was for Eventide to find a comfortable space around him, and that meant not pushing idle conversation too far. At some point he noticed Eventide pulling out a notebook from her saddlebag to scribble in it. In the half-year of knowing the pegasus, Skychaser knew that only meant she was working on one of her written pieces. He remembered how hesitant the mare had been to share them with him when he initially brought up her notebook months ago. Now Eventide was lightly nodding in response to his question, looking back down at the page after. She was still for a short moment, as if thinking, before she lifted the journal up slightly and gave him an inquiring look. Skychaser smiled and nodded eagerly. "Yeah, I'd love to read it!" Eventide allowed Skychaser to take the notebook from her. He gave Eventide one more glance, as if to make sure she really didn't mind sharing with him. The mare simply stared down at her hooves with a neutral expression, and Sky took that as his cue to not leave her waiting. Noting all of the eraser bits and erase marks on the open page, his orange eyes began to roam over the neat penmanship: These broken piano keys  And their appalling tune Fail to deter the optimist in you With a patient touch Light as a faded dream You close your eyes and play a melody

They reluctantly give way With a sound that’s harsh and jarring But you find reason to stay To sweetly convey To find the pieces That haven’t decayed Your song I replay And one day I may Betray Delay These feelings that stay Until I can say I'll willingly give way.

Skychaser perked up. "Well hey, this is really good!" The stallion rubbed the back of his neck with his free hoof. "I mean, I'm not good at deciphering fancy meanings and all of that, but this one sounds pretty." He shot Eventide a look of curiosity. "Say, I feel like you wrote a poem about a piano before too. You wouldn't happen to know how to play one, would you?" Maybe it was a jump in logic, but if Sky couldn't understand whatever deeper meaning this poem surely possessed, the least he could do was try to discuss its surface-level subject. Eventide seemed a little surprised by the question, but gave a firm nod regardless. That peaked Skychaser's interest, and he let out a chuckle. "So you're a fast flier, a poet, and a pianist?" Skychaser grinned. "Who knew you were so multi-talented, Eves~?" Eventide blinked, quickly turning her head away afterward. Sky had to restrain himself from teasing her as a bit of red dusted her cheeks. 'But I gotta say...' Sky thought to himself, giving the poem another glimpse. 'I don't know what it is, but something about this poem almost feels...romantic-' "SKY! EVE!" Sky easily located the third member of their trio, blue mane and all as she weaved around a few strolling ponies to reach them. In one easy motion, Eventide took her notebook back and slid it into her saddlebag. "I'm really sorry guys!" Dream called out as she closed the distance between them. "I need to work on waking up early-" With his hooves now free, Skychaser waited until Dream Flow was right in front of him before he reached up and took Dream's cheeks into his hooves. He squinted at her, squishing her cheeks in. "Girl you late." Instead of accepting her "punishment", Dream apparently had a different idea in mind. "Mleh-" Instinctively, Skychaser retracted his hooves as Dream stuck her tongue out to one side. Knowing exactly what she had attempted, he made sure to gasp dramatically. "Were you about to lick me?!" Dream grinned. "That's what a sister would do, riiiight~?" Skychaser playfully pouted at her, earning him a giggle. Dream Flow then turned to greet Eventide, giving her friend a sunny smile. "Hi Eve!" Eventide softly smiled back and gave a meek little wave. "Alright, so!" Dream Flow began, stepping back to address her two friends. Her eyes practically sparkled. "We're all here, so our afternoon ice cream date commences no-!" "-oAH, WHOA, LOOK OOOUT!" All three ponies jumped as a sudden crash sounded nearby. Closer than nearby. Right next to them, really. Glancing past Eventide, Skychaser could see a crumpled mess of grey feathers. The owner of said feathers, dressed in a brown uniform, laid face down in the dirt as she groaned. "Ms. Derpy Hooves?" While the crash landing had caught the attention of nearly everyone in the vicinity, the realization that it was Derpy had most of the onlookers shrug and carry on with their business. Sky almost winced, wondering how often the mare had to crash for it to become such a norm. Eventide on the other hoof immediately trotted to her boss's side and helped pull her back onto her hooves. Both Dream and Sky followed after her. "Are you okay?" Dream asked worriedly, glancing over the older mare. "You didn't hurt yourself, did y-" "EVENTIDE!" Derpy exclaimed with the utmost relief. She either ignored or didn't notice the unicorn as she threw her hooves onto her worker's shoulders, staring at her with wide, desperate eyes. "Thank GOODNESS I found you! I really need your help!" At Eventide's questioning look, Derpy continued, flustered. "You wouldn't believe it! Everypony else couldn't come in today so I'm the only one at the office! The mail truck's unloading right now and at this rate, I won't get all the mail sorted and delivered today!" Derpy dropped down to the ground and clung to Eventide's foreleg, startling the younger pegasus. "I know it's your day off, b-but if you could come in for just a few hours and help me out with sorting, I'd be sosososo grateful! I'll even pay you overtime for it! Pleeaaaase?" Sky noticed Eventide practically sweating as Derpy stared up at her with uneven puppy-dog eyes. Eve turned back to look at her friends, her uncertainty clear as day. Sky had to sympathize with her. What a way to be put on the spot, and by your boss no less. As if she had just noticed them, Derpy gasped and stood back up. Her whole body - ears, wings, and all - drooped dejectedly. "O-oh dear, do you already have plans?" Eventide turned back towards her boss, tense and hesitant. But before anything else could be said, Sky watched as Dream swooped in and threw a foreleg around Eve's shoulders. "Sorry! 'Scuse us for a second!" The unicorn turned away from the older mailmare with Eventide in tow and moved over towards Skychaser. While Sky's stare held a question, Dream answered it with a friendly smile. "Friendship huddle time!" "Friendship wha-ah!" Sky cut himself off as Dream Flow threw her free foreleg around his neck and tugged him down to her and Eventide's level. After a moment of shifting his gaze between the two mares, he raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Uuh so...why are we huddling?" Yet Dream Flow seemed to be in her own little world as she giggled quietly to herself. "I've always wanted to do something like this..." "D-Dream, focus." "I am focused!" Dream Flow tilted her head to look at him. "Eve deserves extra time to think without being pressured, or else she'll make a rushed decision and end up thinking about this for the rest of the day!" She angled her head to Eventide then, who appeared equally as confused as Sky felt. Smiling gently, the unicorn mare continued. "You could agree that you already made plans. Or you could go with her if that's what you want. We won't mind either way!" Overflowing with optimism and determination, Dream Flow drew the foreleg that was around Sky away and gave a confident hoof-pump for her friend. "Just be honest with yourself and your feelings! Go with what your gut is leaning towards so you won't have any regrets!" Her eyes crinkling merrily, Dream tipped her head to one side. "Okay~?" It was amusing for the stallion to see Dream talk like a motivational speaker. He wondered what she knew about Eventide or what she had sensed to draw out such a speech. It seemed to do it's job, however, as Eventide appeared less troubled than she was moments before. Instead, she stared down quietly in thought. Both Dream and Sky patiently waited for her, giving her whatever time she needed to contemplate. In due time Eventide pulled away from her friends, turning to face the older mare who was grunting and struggling to preen the messy feathers out of her reach. Realizing her employee was looking at her, Derpy Hooves straightened her back and smiled sheepishly. "Um?" "Fewhours?" Derpy's ears shot up. While Eventide's inquiry surprised the grey mare, hope began brimming in her eyes. "MHM! Yeah! Just enough to lessen the workload!" "...okay." Derpy Hooves released an elated squee and once again threw herself at Eventide's foreleg, nuzzling it. "Oh, thank you, thank you! You're the absolute BEST Eventide! I ought to put your picture up and make you employee of the month!" 'Mailponies have employees of the month?' That aside, Sky couldn't be surprised that Eventide would choose to help. While Derpy exchanged a few more words with her employee before soaring off, Eventide turned back to Dream Flow and Skychaser, appearing apologetic. "...sorry." "Don't be!" Sky reassured. "You do what you have to do!" "Sky and I will probably be wandering around the shops by the time you're done, so just find us and we can get even more ice cream later!" Dream happily clapped her hooves together. "Good luck, Evie~!" Eventide appeared to relax, her smile warm as she dipped her head to Dream Flow. Waving their friend off, the two remaining ponies watched as Eve flapped her wings and followed after her employer. -------------------------------------------------------- Dream Flow and Skychaser walked through Ponyville's bustling streets, both keeping an eye out for Sugarsocks' wandering ice cream cart. Sky noted how Dream had an extra bounce to her step and was humming as she eagerly glanced around. He laughed. "Honestly, what is with you and ice cream?" He raised an eyebrow. "You're always suggesting we get some. I'm starting to think you're addicted to the stuff." "But it's so good!" Dream insisted, turning so she could walk backwards and face the stallion. Her colorful eyes shimmered, as if the very thought of the treat brought her joy. "My hometown's really old-fashioned and the closest thing they have are maple snow cones in winter." She sighed with a smile. "And it doesn't compare to the sheer variety you guys get to have!" Skychaser smirked. "You mean our classic flavors like 'white chocolate' and 'pink chocolate'?" Ah yes. He remembered their first ice cream outing. Emotionally intelligent and professional counselor Dream Flow not recognizing flavors like vanilla and strawberry was something he couldn't let go or let her live down. "Hey!" Dream used her magic to playfully flick the stallion's bangs, bringing forth a laugh out of him. "I told you I never got out of my town much, you can't blame me for getting the flavors wrong!" She laughed heartily with him. "Like, strawberries are red, how was I supposed to know pink ice cream was..." Dream suddenly trailed off. Her eyes unfocused, as if something unseen had caught her attention. Before Sky could ask what was wrong, the mare stopped in her tracks and turned herself around. And just as she did, Skychaser found himself jerking to a halt beside her. The pony that had rounded the corner of the building they were passing had to do the same as the three almost collided with each other. While the question of Dream's behavior sat in his mind, Sky was temporarily distracted by the earth pony stallion now standing before him. He wore a white lab coat, and his layered blonde, red, and and purple mane was almost endearingly messy in the back. Skychaser noticed how exhausted and tight the stallion's expression appeared, though, accented further by the dark eye bags under his eyes. It was easy to say he stuck out like a sore hoof. And yet... 'Well hello there. Never seen this guy before...' Sky put on his best charming smile, ready to apologize for the inconvenience. But just as he was about to, the other stallion took one look at Dream Flow and something flashed across his face, his expression shifting into a sour one. Confused, Sky followed his line of sight. He noticed the way Dream's ears were pinned back, and for the first time, he watched as a strained smile formed on her muzzle. "Oh. Hey Astral-" "Hmph." The stallion shot Dream Flow an icy look and proceeded to quickly and wordlessly push past the mare. His shoulder was close to shoving against hers had she not stepped closer to Skychaser, who steadied her with his hooves. 'The hell?' Sky stared after the retreating earth pony, once again peering down at Dream to find her watching the stallion expressionlessly.   "The heck was that about?" Sky finally asked, taking a step back to get a good look at the mare. Dream released a nervous laugh. "Just...Eventide's brother. Astral Dusk." Sky's head pulled back at that, baffled. "Seriously? I didn't even know she had one." He paused, noticing the way Dream was staring downward. "Well yeesh, did something happen between you two? He was pretty...unfriendly." "It's...kind of my fault." Dream lifted her eyes, smiling sadly. "When I first met him, he...seemed like somepony who really needed a friend. So I wanted to befriend him like I did with Eventide, and I was hoping I could help him open up. But I think I made things worse..." She exhaled deeply. "Once he learned about my talent, he shut me out and has been...hostile since." Sky's eyebrows furrowed. "But why?" Another first. He didn't miss the hesitance on Dream's face. "...h-hey, let's just forget about it. Today's supposed to be a fun day, right?" Dream laughed again. "This is kind of a downer!" "I mean...I guess." As much as he wanted to push his questions, it didn't take a genius to see that the mare wanted to change the subject. The two trotted on, eventually catching the sound of Sugarsocks' bell-ringing. And yet that subtle and easy to miss look of hurt that had flickered across Dream's face occupied his mind and refused to sit with him. He didn't really care what reason this stallion had. The way he had acted towards his friend, and the way he was making her feel, was something Sky couldn't seem to let go. The moment Skychaser saw the ice cream line and how long it was, the pegasus felt he had an opportunity before him. "Hey Dreamers, can you wait in line for the both of us? I kiiiinda need to find a bathroom." He hummed uncomfortably, bouncing in place once. "Like, real bad." "Oh! Um," Dream Flow looked around. "I'm not sure where the nearest one is-" "I think I saw one somewhere back where we came from!" he pointed his hoof behind him. "I'll be back, but if I'm late then just get me the usual!" After handing her his share of gold bits, Sky rushed off towards his "destination". In reality, the moment Sky was out of Dream Flow's sight, the stallion began his secret mission. 'Time to make like Miss Pinkie Pie in spy mode.' He tip-toed close to buildings and scooted behind bushes, sticking out his head every so often to scan each area for a certain brown stallion. There was no way he could miss the earth pony. And he was right. A few streets away from the ice cream stand, Sky located Astral at the edge of the shopping square. He was slowly walking around and looking at the different fruit carts with that same calm yet tight expression. Once he settled on buying an apple, Astral began wandering away from the shops. Humming, forming a makeshift plan in his mind, Sky proceeded to tail the taller stallion. As the buildings thinned out and more trees and bushes surrounded him, Sky made sure to be careful of his hooffalls on the grass. He was glad that the path they were on was secluded and further away from other ponies, giving Sky a chance to talk to the stallion one-on-one. But he had to wonder, where exactly was Astral going- "Why are you still following me?" Sky nearly leapt when Astral Dusk turned half-way around, glaring at the very bush he was hiding behind. 'Whoops...' Apparently he underestimated how perceptive the tired-looking pony was. Awkwardly, Skychaser stepped around the bush and into the open. While he took a moment to blow a leaf out of his hair, he did his best to stand firmly as he faced the stallion. Astral's teal eyes hardened at the sight of him. "Don't you think there's something slightly wrong with stalking somepony, Sky? Honestly. What could you possibly want?" 'Huh?' Skychaser blinked, caught off guard. But not so much by the accusation. "You know my name?" Astral went quiet, his expression flat and unreadable. Skychaser pondered the possibility of Eventide telling her brother about him. Still, that didn't quite explain the earth pony being so casual as to use his nickname upon meeting him. The stallion didn't exactly seem the type. With a frustrated huff, Astral shook his head and shot a look of annoyance at him, as if the answer were obvious. "I'm one of Ponyville's royal scientists. I work in Princess Twilight's castle. Of course I know about most everyone in this town." Sky stared at the stallion dubiously That answer was rather...vague. Astral sternly stared back regardless. "Don't make me repeat myself. What do you want so badly that you'd follow me this far?" "I mean...maybe you didn't see me, but I was there with Dream Flow." Skychaser paused, to gauge any sort of reaction from the other stallion. Astral's eyelids drooped, but he said nothing. "She's my friend. And your sister's friend-" "I'm aware." Astral barely batted an eye. Sky felt his eyebrows furrow. "Well, maybe you're not aware that you're hurting her with how you're acting around her. The way you almost shoved past her earlier didn't exactly help." Skychaser wasn't completely sure what he wanted to accomplish here. All he knew was that he felt a need to do something, anything to stand up for the kind unicorn who stuck by him. This was especially the case in what felt like unfair, nonsensical judgement. What sense was there in behaving like this over a talent, and one like Dream's no less? It made no sense to him. "....you really came all the way here just to tell me that." Irritated, Astral quietly scoffed, muttering to himself. "Stupidly persistent..." Frowning deeply, Sky pressed on. "So you don't care...then I want to know; what do you even have against Dream?" Astral eyed him. "...you're not going to leave unless I tell you." It wasn't a question. He stated it as if he knew with certainty that would be the case. And he wasn't wrong. Sky simply nodded in confirmation. There was a period of silence where the two stallions stared at one another, waiting. "...I don't like a pony who plays the friendly and selfless card just so she can get into your business." Sky jerked his head back, his brows pulling inward in confusion. "Wha-" "And I especially don't like a pony who expects you to rely on her because she thinks her special little talent is the answer to all of your problems." Astral finished, a look of distaste crossing his face. "There. Is that what you wanted to hear?" Taking a step forward, Skychaser glared at the stallion. "Literally what are you talking about? Her magic helps ponies." "And I think it's invasive and creepy. Agree to disagree." A flicker of anger ignited within the pegasus, and he released a low growl. "What, so you're just going to ignore the fact that she's been helping your sister-?" "Great. Good for her. Doesn't mean I want that mare anywhere near me." Sky's shot a puzzled look at the stallion. Astral thought Dream was in it purely to be nosy, but was fine with her helping Eventide? He even acknowledged she was helping? Or...did he not care about his sister? Astral huffed to himself. "Besides...I won't trust anyone that I can't properly read." "Read?" That drew out a short laugh from Skychaser. Compared to a lot of ponies, Dream Flow was one of the most expressive and open that he knew. "Okay, now I know you're just being paranoid. That filly's practically an open book." "Right. Trust the one who's constantly smiling." Sky's amusement faded out. "...what does that mean?" "Ugh..." Astral glowered at the pegasus. "Why don't you use your own brain for once? If I really have to explain it to you, then I guess you're just as ignorant as you look." Skychaser bristled. He lifted his head high, leveling his glare. "Huh. So I'm guessing you just have some awful habit of assuming you know ponies. Is that it?" With a humorless snort, Astral looked off to the side indifferently. "Who knows." Upon looking back over at Sky, the pegasus noticed Astral's eyes flick to something past him, his expression once again souring. "Speaking of creepy...had fun eavesdropping?" Eyebrows shooting up, Sky whirled around to find Dream Flow slowly approaching, two ice cream cups floating beside her within her magic's hold. She stopped a few feet away and gazed at the stallions quietly, her expression troubled. "I was...looking for Sky, and-" "Turn that off." At the sound of his commanding voice, Sky returned his attention to Astral. The stallion's eyes were narrowed dangerously at the sight of Dream's glowing horn. When Dream failed to react right away, Astral's lip curled back and he snapped, raising his voice. "Turn your magic off!" Whipping his head, Sky caught Dream jolt at Astral's voice. To his shock she hurriedly - even shakily - moved to place the cups on the ground. "Wh- no! You don't have to listen to him! Dream!" Her magic had already flickered out, however, once she had ensured the cups were lowered. She stood there tensely, peering up through her bangs for just a split second before quickly averting her eyes again. "I'm sorry." "Hmph...at least you have some decency." That was it. Disgust and rage flared inside Skychaser, his feathers standing on end along his neck and back. In seconds he was storming towards the other stallion with a snarl. "The hell is your problem?!" He heard a soft gasp behind him, as well as a strange sound. When he was just feet away from Astral, suddenly there was an orange flash of magic next to him as Dream teleported beside him. She quickly grabbed at his shoulder with one of her hooves. Her voice was even yet insistent as she spoke to him. "Skychaser." He stopped in his tracks, if only because he would never think to shove her away. But Sky refused to drop eye contact with Astral. "This guy needs someone to tell him off." "No, Sky...I'd never want you to be angry in my place." Something about her tone led him to break eye contact to look at her instead. Next to him, Dream was pressing her hoof firmly against his shoulder, her eyes urgent and pleading. "Please...?" Sky searched her face. Something about the softness of that word was cooling down his temper, his anger finding a way to slowly fizzle down. Guilt began taking its place, realizing he had allowed aggression and old dangerous habits to overtake him. Sky's ear flicked as a low, dry chuckle met his ears. Before him, a small, wry smile pulled at Astral's mouth. "Well...good to see the guard dog's been leashed." Skychaser could feel himself boiling again. Though this time, it was from irritation. 'Now he's just downright taunting me...why?' Sky didn't have time to get the question out. He was caught off guard as Dream stepped forward, just enough to gain the scientist's attention. Her voice was light yet firm as she spoke. "Astral...you don't have to like me or my talent. But we don't have to dislike each other either." Offering a good-natured smile, she placed a hoof on her chest. "We won't bother you, I promise. So let's drop this negativity and head our separate ways." Skychaser couldn't guess how the earth pony was going to take that. Astral eyed her sharply, and didn't respond right away. Then, his eyelids drooped, as if worn by the exchange. "...whatever. I don't care." And that was that. Without another word, the researcher turned and strode away. “Sure you don’t buddy....” Sky muttered, only to feel a hoof gently touch his shoulder again. “It's okay. Let him go." “I'm sorry, but what an actual ass." He growled, now that the other stallion was out of their radius.  "He’s going to get slapped by somepony one day, I just know it.” Dream smiled kindly. "Maybe. Hopefully he'll pull himself together before that happens?" Sky stared at Dream for that response. Now more than ever he was baffled. "Dream...how are you not angry?" It was true that he had never seen what the mare's anger looked like. But for Astral to treat her so severely, only for her to wish the stallion well? The unicorn hummed. "It's not exactly my favorite emotion. And it's not one I really experience." Dream Flow jumped to her hooves then, smiling bright. "With that said, come on! This whole thing with Astral isn't worth your anger!" He could tell she was trying to lift the mood as she playfully nudged him with her flank so he would stand up with her. Normally he'd let her, content with being distracted from negativity, but... There was also a difference between lifting the mood and trying to pretend it wasn't there. "Maybe, but...I can't really help feeling the way I do. Right?" Sky sighed, rubbing his foreleg roughly. "I'm sure it'll die down later, but right now, I can't help being angry after all of that. I can't exactly make that feeling go away. You know?" At Dream's silence, Sky curiously looked up to find her staring back at him with a stunned expression. "...you're right." While guilt flickered across her face, it was replaced by an apologetic smile as she lowered her head. "I'm sorry...that was insensitive. Of course you should vent and let your feelings run their course." "H-hey, it's alright." Sky extended a wing a patted his friend on the back. In that moment, he remembered. Dream could sense his negativity even with her magic inactive, couldn't she? 'That's probably how she knew Astral was nearby earlier...I'm sure he's a walking cloud of it. She must be worried.' Sky breathed in deeply before exhaling, hoping to relieve at least most of that angry flare within him. "So...is that why you ended our conversation earlier? Because you knew I wouldn't react well if I knew everything?" Dream smiled weakly at him. "That's part of it. I should've been more honest about that, huh? The last thing I wanted was for it to negatively affect you. But I never expected you to confront him like that." Skychaser winced. "Yeah...s-sorry I lied and snuck off behind your back." He rubbed the back of his head. "It was dumb. I really didn't think that whole thing through." Dream affectionately bumped her head against his shoulder. "I think your big bro senses kicked in, sooo I can't fault you too much~" The two ponies chuckled together, and thankfully the warmth was helping to relieve the anger still churning in his chest. Though, one more question did come to mind.... "You said 'part of it', right?" Sky inquired curiously. "What was the other reason?" Once more, a silence descended upon the duo, a contemplative look on Dream's face. "I...know more than I should." "Huh?" Dream turned her head, looking out towards where Astral had retreated. "I know more about Astral's feelings than he wants me to know. I think it's why he's acting as aggressive as he is, especially towards me." "Huh..." Sky mumbled thoughtfully. It made sense. She of all ponies would be able to understand whatever mess of emotions was inside such an unpleasant pony. Even now, Sky was at a loss when it came to whatever logic Astral had attempted to spout out. "So...what IS his deal then?" Dream's smile softened. "Sorry Sky. I can't really say." "Can't?" The stallion frowned. "Is this about that whole 'confidentiality' thing? He's not one of your clients, so-" Dream shook her head. "It's not about confidentiality. It's about respecting his feelings." Something sad crept into Dream's expression, yet her smile remained. "Astral wasn't completely wrong. My magic can be invasive to a degree." The mare gazed down at her hooves, gently running one against the sand below her. "My magic can never be turned off completely, you know? I'm constantly reading ponies without meaning to, whether it's feeling a negative shift or downright getting a glimpse at their emotions just because my horn is active. So it's not fair for me to share that information, unless they consent or it's detrimental. Thank goodness the latter's never happened." Dream Flow straightened, catching Sky's eyes with her own. There was something gentle yet resolute there. "But I want you to understand that my intent is never to...'get into somepony's business'. For me, whenever someone seems lost or has some internalized negativity, I just can't help but feel inclined to aid them if they let me." Sky watched as the unicorn placed her hooves over her chest where her heart would be, closing her eyes peacefully. "My magic is meant to help others, and cultivate happiness. That's my destiny, and I believe in it. Even if there are ponies who think like Astral, I don't want to be discouraged. I truly, honestly want to devote myself to this in every way I can." "Dream Flow..." Opening her eyes, the mare grinned at him sheepishly "In fact, it's why I moved to Ponyville! To broaden my world and for a whole new beginning." Skychaser nodded as he listened with interest. He never knew the full extent of Dream's feelings on her own abilities. Somehow it never even crossed his mind to ask her what it was like, or even what drove her. At least now he had the chance. And maybe it could serve as a good distraction for them both. "That's seriously really cool, Dream..." He tilted his head. "But what did you mean by 'cultivate happiness'?" Dream Flow's eyes seemed to light up at the question. "OH, yes! Stop me if this is hard to follow, but um," Dream lifted her hooves, gesturing them about as she spoke. "You see, happiness may be a fleeting emotion, but it’s a vital part of harmony when you think about it, right? And harmony is ponykind’s ideal, so happiness is ponykind’s ideal too!" "'Ideal'?" "Yeah! Like, it's what ponykind as a society aims and wishes for. Equestria is called the 'Land of Harmony,' after all!" Dream nodded to herself with certainty. "So with that ideal being so important to everyone, I want to do my part in helping anypony that I can reach a place where they can work towards their ideal state of happiness! In my case, sorting out and analyzing emotions is that first step~" ...Skychaser wasn't sure he completely understood this talk of ideals. But the way Dream seemed so driven by her beliefs was all he needed to understand how important it was to her. Once his friend had finished gushing, Skychaser smiled tenderly. "Well I for one think that's admirable." Dream Flow let out a shy laugh, rubbing her foreleg. "Gee, thanks...I never told anyone about that before. I'm so glad you don't think it's strange." Throwing his wing fully around Dream, he pulled the mare into a fond side hug. "Psh naw, never Dreamers~" 'But huh...guess there's way more to learn about Dreamy than I thought.' Pulling away, Dream Flow shook her hindquarters of any dirt and turned towards the abandoned treat cups. Even from a distance she was able to engulf the cups with her magic aura and have them float over to them. She tilted them forward to inspect them closely. "A little melted, but...salvageable!" Dream handed the appropriate cup over to Skychaser, who balanced it on a wing. "Heh, guess we got lucky~ But even if we didn't, we were gonna get more with Eventide later anyway." 'Speaking of Eventide...' Although hesitant for a few seconds, Skychaser chose to speak his mind and glanced over at his companion. "Hey does she...know? About her brother and whatever's going on I mean." Dream's expression softened. "Eventide and Astral don't really talk, so I can't say if she knows what's going on with him personally. But I haven't told her about any of this, and I'm not really planning to." Sky was a little taken aback by that. "Really? I mean, shouldn't she know?" "She already has so much to deal with. I don't want to put this on her and make her feel responsible for his actions, especially because they aren't close in the first place." 'I guess that makes sense.' Dream gave a long, cat-like stretch before she bounced back up onto her hooves. Her energy seemed to return to her as she faced him with her usual cheer "And hey, it really isn't a big deal to me anyway! I'd rather Astral be honest with me about how he really feels than to pretend to like me, you know?" She beamed up at her friend. "So try not to worry about it too much! As long as we respect his space, everything should be fine!" Skychaser had a feeling he'd never be able to follow that level of positive thinking. Even as somepony who tried to keep things fun and light-hearted, he was pretty sure Dream Flow was on a whole other level. Nothing seemed to get her down. In fact, in all the time he'd spent with her, he couldn't recall ever hearing her complain. 'It's like optimism drives her whole being...geez. Guess she's the type to refuse to let negativity get to her. That's...pretty incredible.' He personally didn't think he'd be forgiving the 'royal scientist' anytime soon. But in the end, for the sake of letting Dream move past this, Skychaser smiled back. He decided to take the first step back towards the town's square, keeping stride with his friend's hoofsteps as she followed. "If you say so, Dreamers. I'll do my best."  ____________________________________________________________

Holy wow there's a lot to dissect here (this turned out way longer than I anticipated). But I'll leave that up to you guys~ We finally get a glimpse at present-day Astral Dusk, who's....well, who knows. And we learn more about our dear emotion counselor~ 

[folklorefairy]

come back come back come back to meee like you would you would if this was a moooovie stand in the rain outside til I came ooout

come back come back come back to mE LIKE! you could you could if you JUST SAID YOU'RE SORRY!!!! i know that we!! could work it out somehow!!!

[arandomsewer]

Catching up TMNT

Ep 17 B:

-Middle park zoo. Haha

-uh... The monster and its victims are petrified or the animation's low budget for this one?

-uh? What?

-oh shit. NOT THE MAGPIE

I love magpies... They are of the crow familly... Intelligent and VICIOUS

oh, thats gonna be fun

-what's Fat Rat up to?

-April's looking good! Long time no see...

AAAAAHHHH THATSAFOOTSHIRT!!!

-the foot shack. A shoe shop.

(Deep breath throug the nose)

-"this whole situation" the return

-OH SHIT

-no, I can not describe my face reacting to that.

-XD Fat Rat crawling out of the sewers looking like that is actual nightmare fuel

-XD I love that they call him pops

-and the entire encounter secuence

-aaah Magpie Sama returns!

-ahaha pfff HAHAHA I know, April, I know...

-she calls him Splints!

-oh wow, its odd to see them in casual clotes

-April, mah dear, just go back to your job and pretend everything is normal

-oh shit dark past flashbacks!

-SIGH when will people learn?

If you have an evil artifact that should never be found, don't just scatter the pieces. DESTROY them

Like, if it's made of stone, make them dust and throw them to the wind!

If its made of metal, LIKE IN THIS CASE melt a few of the pieces for other uses, like, a cheap buda statue or nails so they will be truly imposible to track and thrown away in time

-that back fixing dance is gonna give him away

-Donnie's head peaking off the bird's nose

-noooo Magpie Sama!!

-bike action!!

-the turtles take the Team Rocket's way ooout!!

-April's ninja moves

-I would tear the clock apart with the excuse that maybe the piece was inside, and use that as a distraction to hide the actual piece

-turtle timing

-april's moves part 2 the return

-take of the mask. Hide the piece in your clotes. Don't just get the train looking like that!

-shit shit shit

-they don't recognice his voice?

-SHIT'S ABOUT TO GO DOOOWN

-cool ass action secuence!! Linda makes me wanna go back and watch in detail

-he called Donnie 'funny one'

-SHIT ooh noo worst timing possible!

-just after such a good scene with the reflection in the sword and stuff...

-knew it. The dance thingy gave it away

-how come they were so calm... Oh wait they don't know thats April

-Jackie Chan's secrets out!!

-yeah, April honey thanks for explaning them

-BUT UNTIE HER BEFORE BATTLE!!

-uh. Paper soldiers.

-I thoug he said they recruited online?

-pfff AHAHA RAPH SAVES!!

-I LOVE his "you are all grounded!" gesture

-shit the metal is alien metal. Of course!

Ok, to get rid of something like that:

1-break the armor in many pieces

2-some of the pieces, put in wet cement, and let dry in a shape that resembles a rock.

3-drop the fake rocks in diferent points of the deep sea.

4-the pieces that remain, put them in displey, completing the armor with fake pieces.

5-maybe perform a fake ritual to exorcise it, to distract the atention

This way if anyone tries the armor, they will think it is complete, and just doesnt work

Also if anyone even tries to retrieve the real pieces, it will be practically imposible to find them.

Heck if anyone does they fucking deserve it!

[the-chubbiest-dumpling]

Endings and Beginnings: Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: Guns and Dance

Summary: You’re just an ordinary 25-year-old photographer working in a small studio in downtown Toronto. Your life is as normal as it could possibly be, except the fact that you are given an opportunity most people only dream of.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 6748

Warnings: Swearing. There will always be swearing.

A/N: Totally thought I posted this chapter.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Epilogue

Tags: @shamvictoria11

You notice a change in Bucky's behaviour whenever you practiced for the dance. He's more compliant, confident, and... Smiley. He tells Sam and Steve to suck it up and deal with their situation. Steve is surprised while Sam is just plain annoyed. You, on the other hand, are delighted. You never thought Bucky would be the one to crack first. Steve? Most definitely. Sam after him, and Bucky trailing behind. It's a sheer surprise that Bucky's the one ordering Steve and Sam around. Must be his old Sergeant days coming through.

Today is no different. You're all sporting your workout clothes, sweat already seeping through. It's a hot day today. Even though you can turn the A/C on at any moment, you choose not to. It's a simple way to make them suffer. Yourself included, but that's besides the point. To be honest, you love seeing their bodies glistened in sweat for less than innocent reasons.

"Okay, one more time! From the chorus! Five, six, seven, eight!"

You count out the beats to make it easier for them to follow along, and slow down a little for their feeble minds. They're getting better at it, Bucky especially. You do it again at normal speed, and they hardly have any trouble with it. The song is almost completed; the worry for you now is whether they're going to remember it or not. They have the video, but you guess you could always send them a video of them doing it right now. You secretly have F.R.I.D.A.Y. recording it for professional reasons, watching their movements, seeing what they're doing wrong. Nowadays, you watch them for pure enjoyment.

You decide to take a breather and let them rest. Not like they need it. They've been through a lot worse than this, but it's to spare your ears from their complaints.

"You guys can either rest or go train for half an hour," you say, stretching your hands over your head. "Or, god forbid, you can keep practicing. But come back at the end."

Sam and Steve immediately go to the weights, while Bucky lags behind to stretch. You sit on the ground cross-legged, breathing in deeply. Meditating with Sam, Steve, and Bucky in the room shouldn't be so bad. There's no music, but the clanging of metal could be distracting. Taking the chance, you close your eyes and begin to concentrate.

It's not long before you wince because Sam and Steve are being so loud. Even Bucky popping his bones is irking. But you suck it up and try to clear your mind anyhow.

"What're you doing?"

Now your mind is flooding with thoughts on how to shut people up.

You open one eye and look at Bucky, hunched over his knees and staring at you. You sigh and close your eye again, straightening up your back.

"Meditating," you say.

"Isn't it a little loud for that?" he points out, looking behind him to stare at Sam and Steve.

"Not if you try hard enough," you reply. "I'm pretty good at zoning out when people talk, so I have no problems this time around."

Bucky nods, rolling back and forth, smacking his mouth. Your eye twitches at Bucky's little noises, but you don't give in. You can easily block this out. No big deal. When you peek through your eyes, you see Bucky cracking his knuckles and his neck. Now you're wondering if he wants something.

"Do you need anything, Bucky?"

"Hmm? Um... Actually I. Uhh. Do you think–"

"Come ooon. Spit it ooout."

"Can you help me with the steps?" he asks shyly.

You smile and turn your head away, trying not to snort. He sounds like a kicked puppy, and his expression is hilariously adorable. You take pity on him and nod your head.

"Sure."

You stand up, him following suit. You ask F.R.I.D.A.Y. to get the video back up again, and then turn around to face Bucky.

"So which part do you need help with?"

"The part after the chorus."

You skip the video to that part, nodding your head in understanding.

"Ahhh okay okay. I got you. F.R.I.D.A.Y., you know what to do.”

You turn back around and stand by his side so he can see you better. You go slow, letting him get used to it again before picking it back up to the normal pace. His footing is the problem, you notice, so you go through that with him without all the arm movements. He tries to watch your feet, but he can't help but look at your face. He's half paying attention, half zoning out. He wants to learn this dance and get it over with, but you're more than a little distracting. Why? He doesn't know.

"Bucky? Bucky, are you listening?"

He snaps out of his thoughts and looks at you. He nods hesitantly, but you know that he's lying.

"Okay. Do what I just did." You feel like a petty school teacher, but if Bucky really wants to practice it he's going to have to learn the hard way. Bucky does the moves after the chorus instead of what you just showed him. His footing is almost there, but it's just proof that he wasn't listening.

"Bucky. I know I have a pretty face, but please watch my feet."

It takes every muscle in your face not to smile when Bucky widens his eyes and looks towards the floor. You're not being vain; you're just telling it like it is and being more confident in yourself. Getting into position again, you go through the steps with Bucky, this time with more success. Steve is eyeing you two from his little corner, a mischievous smile spread across his face.

“I don’t like that look,” Sam says as he notices Steve’s newfound happiness.

“I’m just smiling,” Steve says as he looks at Sam with his arms crossed.

“Yeah, but it’s a creepy, ‘I-know-something-you-don’t’ kind of look,” Sam explains. “Stop it.”

Steve blows his lips and picks up his weights again. Sam looks in the direction where Steve was smiling, and he sees you helping Bucky with the dance steps. He scrunches his nose at the sight.

“That? You’re smiling at that?” Sam says in a mockingly judgmental tone.

“What?” Steve laughs. “I can’t smile at something like that?”

“You can smile at whatever you want, Cap,” Sam says. “But why are you smiling at them? The fact that Barnes is willingly practicing with Spyro? Or that Barnes is failing hard? I think it’s pretty hilarious. Actually, I–“

“I just think it’s nice,” Steve says, cutting off Sam. “Nice to see him smiling.”

Steve begins his reps again, leaving Sam to stare at Bucky as he tries to keep up with you. You laugh when he trips up again, which in turn makes Sam smile. He sighs and shakes his head, now thinking like Steve. He hasn’t completely warmed up to Bucky yet, but if he’s smiling because of you… He feels like a proud dad in that moment.

“Alright. Okay. I am done. Finished. You’re on your own.”

“_______, I’m trying, I swear!”

“Well, currently, you’re going to do better than Steve and Sam, but your coordination is terrible!”

“My coordination is fine!”

“Fine my ass! You’re gonna have to get Sam and Steve to help you. Even though I’m doing this too, maybe your testosterone buddies can do a better job than me.”

Bucky finally shuts up at the “testosterone buddies” comment, simply because he’s trying so hard not to laugh. It’s very true, but the way you said it has him dying on the inside. He holds his hands up as if in defence and begins backing away.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

You sputter your lips as he walks away with that stupid smile on his face.

That smile really suits him.

You’re definitely going to enjoy watching that video later. It’s sure to bring a smile to your face for countless nights when you’re feeling a little melancholic. As Bucky returns to his workout regimen, you begin practicing new dances to new songs.

By the end of one practice, you were onto another. This time, it’s much more serious and intimidating. You’re standing in a much bigger room on the second floor. There’s a huge glass window overlooking the driveway, the reflection shining on the marble floors. There’s glass railings on either side of the room, meters apart from each other. Natasha stands in front of you, wearing her suit. You were told by her to wear yours as well, and being a compliant little soldier, you did as you were told. You think you’re just doing combat training again, only this time in your new suit, but Natasha has other plans. And it’s something you were dreading. She takes her gun out of her holster–a Glock 26–and hands it to you.

“You don’t need to look so afraid of it,” she says.

“I can’t help it,” you say. “I’ve never seen one in real life. And now I’m holding one. It feels so… foreign. Like I wasn’t meant to hold it.”

Natasha gives you a sympathetic look as she watches you turn the gun in your hands. She remembers when she first held a gun. It was strange, but she didn’t have time to get worked up over something so little. She instantly got used to it, using them on countless foam targets, until she got to the real thing. She didn’t even flinch.

She takes the gun back from your hands and turns the safety on. No matter how many guns she has, she always has the safety on and unloaded before she takes them out to use. She hands it back to you, and you stare at her with wide eyes.

“You didn’t have the safety on?!” you nearly shout. “What if I pulled the trigger and accidentally shot you?!”

“I didn’t have any worries,” she smiles.

“Why?”

“I know your personality. Mostly. I knew you wouldn’t pull it, even just to test it. You’re smarter than that.”

“That’s a little… Eh, whatever. You’re Natasha Romanoff, so you’re pretty good at reading people.”

She smiles again and backs away from you.

“You’re going to shoot it later today,” she says. “For now, I’m going to show you how to successfully disarm your opponent. Now, put the gun in your holster then pull it out. Use two hands if necessary.”

You nod, doing as she says. You’ve never used a holster either, but it’s easy enough to figure it out. You take it out as fast as you can and hold it out in front of you, using one hand to see how it feels. Your grip is a little shaky, but that’s to be expected. First time holding a gun, you’re not going to be an expert. Within the blink of an eye, Natasha painfully smacks the inside of your wrist and you drop the gun to the floor. You hold your wrist and hiss in pain, looking at her in distress.

“Um… Ouch?”

Natasha picks up the gun and twirls it in her hand. She smiles in victory as you straighten up.

"Is that the only way to do it?" you ask, rubbing your wrist. "Or is it just the most painful way?"

"Trust me," she starts, handing you the gun, "there's methods more painful than a slap on the wrist."

You grip the gun in your hand, finger off the trigger. Safety or not, you don't want to be anywhere near it. Natasha has you raise it again, still with one hand, to show you how she does it. She holds up two fingers, and places them on your wrist.

"If you put enough force on your tendons, they'll retract and open up your hand," she explains. "We're going to learn about disarming your opponent before attacking them. Best that they don't have a gun in their hands when they're trying to kill you."

You laugh nervously and swallow the limp in your throat. If anyone's teaching you this, you're glad it's Natasha. She takes out her other gun and holds it up. You put your gun in your holster, and hold up two fingers with your right hand. You look at your wrist, approximating where Natasha had hers. It's an educated guess at best, so you search her covered up wrist, and slap your fingers against it until you get it right.

Turns out, you don't get it right. It takes a lot of precision to hit the wrist in just the right spot over and over again. It's like hitting the same hole with an axe. It only happens every once in a while. Even after a lot of practice it can be difficult. Natasha has no trouble at all, and she doesn't mind helping you for as long as it takes. She shows you multiple times how to strike the tendons when your opponent's wrist is covered, and you end up breaking two nails from going in so hard. Having a gun in your face didn't make things easier either. After too many attempts on your part, you decide to stop.

"Wanna do something else?" you say hopefully. "Another way to disarm? Shoot the damn thing? Beat someone up?"

Natasha sees the pleading in your expression and gives.

"Okay," she says. "Missions can come at any time, so I think teaching you how to shoot a gun is necessary."

For some reason you're relieved, but you're still nervous about actually shooting a gun. Natasha takes a remote out of her pocket and pushes a button. Three targets lower down from the ceiling behind you. You step back, watching them appear and touch the ground.

"You can work on these for a while," she says. She takes out her gun and a magazine, putting it in place and taking the safety off. She stands a few meters away from the middle target, and you move out of the way to give her some space. She holds her gun up with one hand and shoots three times, all her shots landing in the target's head. "You'll be able to do this in no time. It's not exactly point-and-shoot. For beginners, stance is important, along with how you hold it. Aim is everything, and then follow through. I’ll explain it step by step.”

Natasha does explain everything, right down to a tee. There’s times where she talked too much and then you got confused. You were about to look up “how to shoot a gun” on WikiHow before she made things easier with an example. Herself. You watched her stance, arms, eyes, aim, and follow through. You tried doing the same. It was a little sloppy, your back bent back a few times, but not too bad. You managed to at least hit the target, but not where you desired. It scared you a little when Natasha complimented you after a few more tries. It made you even more ambivalent about guns. You don’t like them, but you’re almost a natural with them? Not exactly what you were expecting, but they’re your best friend now; might as well let it go and get used to it. And getting used to things hasn’t been as bad as you’d originally thought.

You only spent an hour with Natasha on gun handling. At the present time, you’re sitting in your room, watching the video from today’s dance practice. Rather, an attempt at practice. Sam and Steve are mediocre at best now. They’re not as stiff with their arms during the robot bit in the chorus, and their footing isn’t as bad as before. Your only guess about why they still look weird is because they’re lacking the motivation. You cringe as the three of them are confused as when to transition to their new spots. You skip the footage, and play it when it’s just you and Bucky.

Bucky is even more beautiful with a smile on his face. Whatever the reason he’s smiling doesn’t matter to you, because anything that can make Bucky smile is worthwhile, no matter how small it may be. You laugh quietly to yourself as you watch his wobbly legs find their way around the room. He’s not as stiff as Sam or Steve, but he’s still a little rough around the edges. You thought his metal arm would make things harder, but so far, it hasn’t. Despite the fact that the plates have to shift together properly to move his arm, it hasn’t caused any problems for him. None that you can see, anyway.

You save the video away in a new folder named “Bucky and Smiles” for whenever you’re feeling down. You thought about having F.R.I.D.A.Y. record and/or take pictures of Bucky whenever he’s smiling, but that seems a bit creepy and stalker-ish, so you’re not going to do that. This video will suffice for now.

You stand up and stretch, sighing as the bones in your shoulder blades pop. You get dressed into your suit, grab your phone, and head down to the fixed training room. You don’t know if you want to bring your new gun with you, but you decide to anyway to get used to the movement. You tie your hair up and settle your mask on your face before heading out the door. As you pass the kitchen, the lights suddenly go out. You instantly start panicking on the inside. The power could have just been cutout naturally. Or someone else is in the compound.

Instead of the normal lights, glowing red emergency lights come on. That mixed in with the sunlight coming in from the windows and the deep darkness obscures your eyes a little. You hoped that Tony would have actual backup power instead of this. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute in your chest, pounding against your ribcage. You shakily call out, hoping someone will answer. Instead, there’s a loud crack and yell. You toss your phone on the counter and pull out your gun from your holster. You take the safety off, and keep your finger off the trigger for now. You take quiet, hesitant steps towards the source of the noise with your back against the wall. You’ve watched enough episodes of Criminal Minds to know what happens next.

You keep your arms held high, and your feet shoulder width apart as you creep along the wall. When a corner comes up, you take a breath before sharply turning the corner and flicking your gun left and right. You can’t see anything, which doesn’t ease your anxiety at all. One quick look over your shoulder tells you there’s no one in the training room. You keep walking forward, tip-toeing along the way. You can hear heavy groaning a few feet ahead. They sound like they’re in pain. You pray to god that it’s not an enemy, because you don’t think your stomach can handle such a situation.

The groaning is getting closer and closer. You hover your finger over the trigger, and take one hand off to feel where you’re going. There’s a door to your right, which is where the grunts of pain are coming from. You turn towards the door, brows furrowed and breathing short. This is it. Life or death. You outstretch your hand towards the doorknob and grasp it. Right when you’re about to swing it open, two people come tumbling through it.

You scream in fear, and you nearly pull the trigger when you realize who it is.

“Sam?! Bucky?! Honestly, what the fuck?!”

You put the safety back on and drop it back in your holster. You take a step back to lean against the wall and take deep breaths as Sam and Bucky continue to whimper. You glare at them, actually wanting to shoot one of them.

“You guys scared the hell out of me!” you exclaim. “I could’ve shot one of you!”

You slide down to the floor and hold your face in your hands. You just almost shot Sam and Bucky. You would not recover from something like that. Sam is the first to speak up after a moment of silence.

“Sorry, Spyro,” he says weakly, raising a hand in apology. “We busted the electrical panel.”

“We?” Bucky hisses. “You tossed me into it!”

“Only because you were being annoying, Barnes,” Sam snaps.

“So you decide to cut the power to the whole compound?” Bucky retorts.

“That’s enough.”

The sharp tone to your voice makes Bucky and Sam stop their bickering and look up at you. If looks could kill, they’d be dead. You see that Bucky’s head is bleeding, and Sam’s arm has a few cuts on it. Nothing that can’t be repaired.

“You do realize that the both of you are alive right now?” you say venomously. “One, or even the both of you, could’ve been dead a few seconds ago. Do you know how that makes me feel?”

They both look guilty now for having put you through such a panic. Bucky looks at the floor in shame, while Sam scoffs at him and speaks again.

“I’m sorry, _______,” he says gently. “I didn’t think anyone else was here. I didn’t hear anything.”

“You mean we didn’t think anyone was here, and we didn’t hear anything,” Bucky corrects him.

“Oh, so now it’s ‘we’?” Sam says sassily.

“Just. Don’t,” you spit. “Christ. Yell out next time that it’s just a power failure instead of giving me an ulcer. Jesus…”

You know that you’ll have to shoot an enemy at some point, unless you can defeat them using your pyrokinesis first. The whole ominous and do-or-die feeling is still very new to you, given what just happened. Your first mission was just as threatening and frightening; a few nightmares here and there about it but you weren’t scarred. But this time around… it’s too terrifying. It makes you feel like you’re in a horror movie where you know you’re about to die next. It’s not a good feeling.

After a few deep breaths, you stand back up and help Sam and Bucky to their feet. Sam may need stitches, but you don’t know about Bucky. He’s hurt on the other side of his head, opposite to what you treated last time. You begin walking back the way you came in silence, Sam and Bucky still seething. When you enter the kitchen, you feel around for you phone on the counter. When you have it, you turn on your flashlight and shine it in their faces. They shut their eyes and hold their hands up. Clear as day, Sam’s cuts do need stitches, and so does Bucky’s forehead. It’s like a face period.

“Okay, guys,” you say. “Time to go to the med lab.”

You don’t know how to get there, so Sam leads the way with your phone in his hand. You grab some paper towels from the island before you leave and have Bucky hold it against his head. Sam does the same after a glare and some scolding. There’s red everywhere you look since the power won’t come back on for a while thanks to them. You’re still bitter, but you tone it down since it was an accident. Supposedly.

The medical staff is confused as to why the power is out as well, so you have Sam and Bucky explain why that is. You don’t need to be here any longer, so you take your phone back from Sam and begin going back. But one of the doctors tells you to stay so they can see what they’re doing. You sigh loudly like a sassy teenager, and stand in front of Sam and Bucky as the doctors do their good work.

Sam understands how you're feeling. First time you're using a gun for real, and you end up almost shooting your teammates. It’s not a pleasant emotion to be feeling. However, he thinks you're overreacting a bit. It happened a few minutes ago. He's over it. But he's not sure you are.

"Spyro?"

You don't look at him.

"_______?"

You flick your eyes over to him then look away again. That's enough for Sam.

"Look. I'm still–" He stops short when Bucky whips his head around to glare at him. "We, are still sorry about what happened. But don't you think you're overreacting just a little bit?"

"I know."

"I know that it was your first–wait, what?"

"I said, I know I'm overreacting. I had my moment of anguish. I'm over it."

"Oh."

Sam nods his head and hisses as the doctor continues to thread the needle through his arm. You give a quick glance to Bucky; he's staring straight forward, not saying a word. You raise an eyebrow, but think nothing of it. You take off your mask and loop it around your wrist. You think about what would've happened if it wasn’t Sam and Bucky behind that door. You know you would panic, and probably be too scared to pull the trigger. But next time this happens (hopefully not), you're going to be ready for them, and not hesitate. There's no room for people like that in the Avengers.

"What the hell is this?"

Everyone stops what they're doing to turn around and look at the newest arrival. Tony's still in his Iron Man suit; it has a few scratches on it.

"Here I am, thinking I'll be relaxing after that shit show I just had and I come home to this?"

"Well if there was real backup power we wouldn't be in this mess," you hiss.

"Actually, we wouldn't be in this mess if these two right here weren't near each other," Tony says, pointing his finger at Sam and Bucky.

You can’t deny that. Sam still has some bad blood with Bucky, and he just can’t seem to get over it. It’s not for you to judge though. You don’t know what happened. It may have to do with the events that happened in D.C. a few years ago after you did a little research. A few videos showed the destruction of three helicarriers, but nothing really about Steve or Natasha or Sam. Not even Bucky. He was too dangerous to get close to, but some people are stupid enough to do it anyway. It’s the first time Sam met Bucky, so that’s probably where the feud started. You don’t confirm nor deny what Tony says. Everyone in the room knows.

“Well, whatever happened happened,” you say. “Do you know a way to get the lights back on? The electrical panel is roasted.”

Tony sighs as he walks forward and stares at Bucky with a judgmental look on his face. You snap your fingers in front of his eyes.

“Hey, did you h–“

“Calm down, hellfire,” Tony says. “It can be fixed. I’ll have a look at it. Just keep these two apart at all times. I don’t need them destroying anything else in this place.”

He leaves without another word, not caring enough to see how their injuries are. Tony hardly ever smiles when he’s in his Iron Man suit, so you brush off his attitude as just another one of his bad days. You keep track of the Avengers’ moods and behaviours sometimes in your Avengers notebook. You’ve kept it well hidden, but no one’s stupid enough to go in your room without permission. Or else you’ll showcase a little fire dance for them.

After a few more minutes of wincing, hissing, and gauze wrapping, Sam and Bucky are all stitched up. You crack your knuckles after you turn your phone off. The med lab is enveloped in the red glow of the emergency lights again, but this time, no one protests. The doctors have done their job for now, so unless they have a life to save, they’re not complaining. Sam moves his arms slowly to get a feel for the pain. He bites his lip when they’re almost outstretched. You don’t know how many stitches he got, but it seems like a lot if he can’t move that much. He won’t be going on missions for a while. Unless he sneaks himself out. That’d be a Sam thing to do. Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t move. He gingerly touches the gauze around his head. He flinches, then settles his hand back in his lap. There’s a painful silence in the air that you don’t want to be a part of.

“Take care of yourselves.”

You leave without another word, and without looking over your shoulder. You’re not mad at them anymore, but you’re mad at yourself for being so emotional about one little mistake you could have made.

But you have the right to be emotional about it.

Just thinking about accidentally shooting Sam or Bucky would be scarring for you. Even in a non-vital area, like their arm or leg, would keep you awake for nights to come. It probably will anyway. You had never felt so scared in your life. You’re still not used to using a gun, even after having shooting practice. You haven’t fired it against a real person yet, and that’s something you’re not looking forward to. All sense of reality and remembering everything Natasha taught you will be wiped out in the very moment when the time comes to take your first victim. You don’t have to speculate; you know it will happen.

When you get back to your room, you toss your gun on your bed and unstrap your holster from your leg. You flash your flashlight again and tuck them away securely under your bed. Well, it's not quite secure as a safe, but you can hold your own if someone wanted to take it.

You know you cannot just sit around in the red darkness, so you head back to the room where the electrical panel is. There's a brighter light moving under the door; you open the door to reveal Tony, using his suit as a flashlight as he fixes the panel.

"How's it look?" you ask quietly.

"Nothing I can't repair," he replies, a few sparks flying. "I'd rather not have to do this, but we have two idiots in the compound so it must be done."

You smile out of spite and watch him work his magic as he fixes the panel. He can do this in no time, but you'd rather not stand here and watch him, bored out of your mind.

"Where is everyone else?" you ask. "Steve, Wanda, Nat, and Vision?"

"Out," Tony answers. He doesn't give you much more than that. Sighing, you nod your head and turn back around. You don't want to be alone while the lights are off, but you're a human torch. You can light the way wherever you go. You put your phone on the counter as you enter the kitchen and get out your lighter instead. You make a small fireball in your hand and leave your lighter on the counter as well. It's very inconvenient that F.R.I.D.A.Y. is inoperable at the moment. You could use a little guidance right now.

You've been to the hangar enough times to remember where to go. You don't want to feel alone, so you're going to wait there for everyone to come back. There's a high possibility that they took a quinjet. You burn your fire brighter as you walk down the stairs, watching your footing at all times. When you come to a landing, you hear footsteps in front of you. You immediately stop, and grip the handlebar with your free hand. Now you're even more freaked out.

"Sam?" you call. "Bucky?" No one answers. If it was Nat, Steve, Wanda, or Vision, they'd tell you otherwise. But since you hear none of their voices, you know it's an unknown subject. You're at an advantage if they don't have a gun; if they do, you might be in a slight pinch.

You stand against the railing, and bring both your hands forward to push the fire outwards. You don't see anyone from the illumination. You tip-toe down the stairs, keeping your eyes forward. You have no idea if the team is just messing with you, but if they are it's definitely not funny. It's pitch black, and the only emergency light flashing is all the way across the room. Your fire will serve as your flashlight and your weapon.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you keep close to the railing and your breathing low. You know the layout of the hangar, despite it just being a big empty space. You creep away from the stairs and quickly whip your fire around to illuminate the space beneath it. You flick your eyes left and right as you check the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest. You don't have a lot of patience when you're scared, so when you're done your sweep, you press your back against the railing and spread your fire out even more.

You divert it to avoid the two other quinjets sitting in the hangar. Looks like they took the third one. You don't see anyone there. You think maybe you're imagining things, but that only makes you more anxious.

"Alright," you shout. "This isn't fucking funny anymore. Show yourself or I swear to god, I will set this entire room on fire.”

From behind the quinjets comes a small group of men. Seven dressed in a combat uniform, each holding an assault rifle. The eighth man is bald and wearing a suit. You don’t see a HYDRA logo on any of them, but that doesn’t mean they’re not a threat. You keep your guard up as baldy takes a step closer.

“Who are you?” you ask. The man looks you up and down, then at the fire spreading around him.

“Could you stop that, please?” he asks. “It’s intimidating my men.”

You flick your eyes to the other seven, and they’re all wearing an expression of slight fear. Looking back at baldy, you narrow your eyes.

“No,” you say, making your fire encircle the seven.

“There’s no need to be afraid, miss _______,” baldy says.

“Just because you know my name doesn’t mean I’m going to trust you,” you say, encircling him as well.

“I’m Agent Phil Coulson,” he says, sweat beading on his forehead from the flames. “From S.H.I.E.L.D. I came by to see how our new pupil is doing.”

S.H.I.E.L.D.?

S.H.I.E.L.D. is no secret, yet they are. You’ve heard their name mentioned a couple of times when you “accidentally” eavesdropped on Tony’s and Steve’s conversations. Plus, Steve has said to your face that he was alive when S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded. Or rather, it was in the works. They were too busy with a war to make things official at the time.

Baldy takes out his badge and holds it up for you to see. You walk towards him, separating the ring of fire around him. You squint at it, and see his ID says that he is in fact Agent Phil Coulson. It has S.H.I.E.L.D.’s logo in the background, and his picture. Seems legit enough. But you’re not an expert in fake identities. You’ll take his word for it.

“Fine.” You retract your fire from around Coulson and his men, and instead project it above your head to keep everyone from being in the dark. “The newest pupil is fine, thank you.”

Phil motions his men to lower their weapons, and they obey without question. He seems legit now, because he doesn’t want to kill you. It’s a comforting thought.

“Anything else?” you ask, narrowing your eyes as Phil doesn’t say anything else.

“Has your stay been welcoming?”

“Plenty.”

“Any problems?”

“Personal.”

“Missions?”

“Only been on one. I’m sure you’ve seen the footage.”

“Any complaints?”

“Don't sneak around when the power’s out. It’s creepy, and I’d have no problem scorching you alive if you didn’t tell me who you were.”

“And why is the power out in the first place?”

“Two team members had a fight. Blew the electrical panel. Tony’s fixing it now.”

“I see. May I speak with him?”

“Be my guest. But your friends have to wait outside. Their presence doesn’t exactly say ‘I-want-to-sit-down-and-have-some-afternoon-tea’.”

Phil looks behind him, and some of his men look crestfallen. But if Phil wants to see Tony, then his pals will have to stay behind.

“Wait here. I won’t take long.”

They stay put as you begin walking away with Phil back up the stairs, fire in hand. It’s a silent walk back upstairs. You don't want to learn more about S.H.I.E.L.D. because honestly, you couldn’t care less. Phil doesn’t try to make additional conversation, which is fine by you. Although there is the nagging feeling to know more, you keep your mouth shut. He’ll probably only answer your questions as “that’s classified”, and there is nothing more annoying than a person who won’t give you a straightforward answer. You have no idea if Sam and Bucky are still in the med lab, but you just hope you won’t run into them on the way.

Once you hit the kitchen, you pick up the pace, because it’s always a place where people seem to pop up. The heart of the home is in the kitchen, as mothers say. Phil keeps up no problem, but gives you a confused look from behind your back. Once you reach the designated room, you take your leave.

“Tony, Agent Coulson. Agent Coulson, Tony. Goodbye.”

You strut out of there despite their questioning expressions. You need to find a place where you know you won’t be disturbed.

“She seems nice,” Phil says as he watches you exit the room. “Grounded. Disciplined.”

“She’s a little shit, actually,” Tony says, still focusing on his work, not looking Phil in the eyes. “But I do like the fact that she refers to you as ‘agent’ instead of ‘Phil’ like she’s best friends with you.”

Phil sighs and shakes off Tony’s childish attitude, getting straight to the point.

“I think she’s ready,” he says. Tony’s hand freezes over the panel for a second, before he shrugs off what Phil said and keeps working.

“What makes you think that?”

“She’s cautious. Takes her own initiative. You got her suit ready, which makes things easier. Her first mission wasn’t a complete failure. She can handle it.”

“This is too big for her, Coulson,” Tony argues. “She’s had one mission. One. She’s not up for this.”

“Well that’s up to her,” Phil rebuttals. Tony stops again and sighs in annoyance.

“Look, Coulson,” he starts, staring him in the eyes. “She’s just a kid. But she can be just as angry as Banner when he turns into a green rage monster. She could’ve easily burned something because that’s how angry she was. But she didn’t. Probably because she’s scared. And she just learned how to use a gun. I’m not sending her on a suicide mission just to test her ability.”

“We would supervise,” Phil says calmly. “We’d be around her at all times.”

“And then what?” Tony asks, raising his voice. “You’ll just leave her there, hanging by a thread, to see if she can figure it out for herself? Instead of charging in and saving her? No. It’s not happening. I’m not going to be held responsible for her death.”

“You underestimate us sometimes, Stark,” Phil replies. “We can ensure her safety; I can assure you that. If worse comes to worse, we’ll step in and take over. But we want–need, to see what she can do. Otherwise she won’t be much use.”

“We’re not playthings for your disposal, Coulson,” Tony says seriously. “Believe it or not, having S.H.I.E.L.D. off our radar–or anyone’s, really–is a spectacular thing. The Avengers Initiative was a success, and a downfall. We’re still together as you can see, but seeing you means trouble. And I don’t want any of that around here. So you can forget it.”

Phil knows he’s not going to get anywhere with Tony, so he’s going to go straight to the source. You.

“I can’t say I’m not disappointed, nor surprised,” Phil says as he buttons his jacket. “I just wanted to run it by you before we proceed.” Tony goes to protest but Phil is already out the door. “She’ll never agree to it!” Tony shouts after him.

“We’ll see.”

E/A/N: Well. That was a shitty eight months if I do say so myself. School was my top priority and things got too busy. There were too many assignments to do and I lost the energy to keep this story going. But now I’m graduated, and hopefully I’ll have a job soon (not that I’ll enjoy having one). And I also hope to keep this story going.

[askthedazzlingwilford]

Henlo, my pink friend. How are you today?

“OHH, I’m Great thaNKS for asKing

“Well it was Great exc-EPT for the part when people RAN away from mE because I pulled my gUn ooout,” Wilford said annoyed. He took his gun out and shot his cup on his table, “Yup, still wOrks.”

[tactickle]

GHHHGHHHGOD i love lee kirishima sooo damn much. i bet he's always like "ggGGGUYSSSS CUT IT OOOUT" his classic war cry when being tickled. ///i'm adding cause i want to provide for this tickly kiri thread anon and wiggly ty for this inspo 💗

i bet bakugou likes to watch as people like kaminari and sero tickle him in class or in the lounge area. like he can't stop himself from looking but he also really doesn't wanna be caught staring BUT hell if he's not gonna see this and not help kirishima. at all.

sero be calling over shouji to help grab kiri and hold him back and bakugou is like wow doesn't that suck for you, stupid. kaminari is also a pro tickler so he finds all the good spots like grabbing the flesh of kiri's thigh right above his knee while sero "accidentally" taped his leg to the couch.

it's so cute he's partially stuck not completely though also it takes like 4 people to keep kirishima from bucking and toppling over the said couch. kirishima looks up though and sees bakugou just sitting on the couch and he's like "nnnoo no no-- BAKUGOU HELPP GAH not there NOT THERE" and dissolving into loud happy laughter. and sero and kami are like "harden, dude harden! you got this you can do it" like they AREN'T causing the problem. and they totally didn't wait til AFTER a day of training so he's already over used his quirk and can't keep it up.

bakugou's like "get out of there yourself dumbass" and cue the "I CAAAAN'T THEY'RE TICKLING MEEEEE" "psh what a weak quirk" "I-IT'S NOT WEAK I-- THEY-- I'M TICKLISH STOP"

and the dumb kid goes shirtless around the lounge area unless it's like downstairs by the lobby cause aizawa yelled at him once. but anyways it's so cute cause he'll break his leg out then sero just wraps some fresh tape around his ankle then so when he tries to break free he trips and they follow him down. and my god he doesn't know why he's suffering this cruel fate-- jk he beat sero and kami to the last piece of satou's chocolate cake.

sero's like "I BET IT TASTED GREAT YA BIG JERK" and pinches his tummy with his long tickly fingers. and kaminari following in suit like "YEAH DID IT TASTE GOOD ANSWER ME IS YOUR BELLY FULL BUDDY" in a blatant teasing way while they jiggle the tiniest soft area on his belly below his belly button. and now they're getting at his belly cause you know, his belly. he ate it so it's a cutesy thing. (｡･ω･｡)

at this point though bakugou is feeling the secondhand embarrassment. it's... too silly and dare he say cute when kirishima tries to cover his tummy desperately and his cheeks turn red at the taunting that he'll get chubby if he keeps 'stealing the damn cake' from his buds. after a bit tho they roll off him proud of their work like that's RIGHT get wrecked. and kiri loves his friends he's giggling face down into the couch and laying on his stomach and holding it cause his belly is still tingling from the spider finger and prodding session they just had.

kaminari and sero can't believe bakugou didn't 1. stop the commotion 2. just leave. and kirishima is like "why didn't you help me? they were out to kill me!!" with bakugou just smirking like "you deserved it" from all the teasing kiri uses on him when they're in private. and kirishima starts laughing at the sight of bakugou's smirk because he KNOWS that bakugou is now aware that the tummy talk gets him all worked up. like he already starts feeling the incoming tickles again and starts pleading "no no don't" even when bakugou is turned around and leaving for his room.

sero and kaminari are like "wth dude are you okay" not really getting why he's starting to squirm again. leaving kirishima to just kinda be like "i-it's nothing.. aw fuck ohh i'm gonna die" and hiding his face in his hands.

Imagine Bakugou and Kaminari wrapping up Kirishima in a blanket and sloooooooowly dragging feathers up his feet

fffff kirishima would just be trembling and he’d throw his head back and snort out a giggle. bakugou would smirk and pry kirishimas toes back so he can’t curl them up, and kaminari would just drag his feather in circles right in the center of kirishima arch and kiri would just Die as he stuttered all shaky “g-guys c'mon” all nervous and giggly

and bakugou would reach up w one hand to tickle at his neck while kami grinned and cooed abt how cute and wiggly kiri is 8)

[franklyshipping]

The music is turned off, and there is shuffling. The door opens very slightly, and there seems to be no light on the other side. It's difficult to see in. "I don't wanna come ooout... I don't feel like it..." Is all he replies, in a soft spoken voice, before gently clicking the door shut.... This looks like more than a one man job. ~Warfstache

You don't wanna come out? Not even if I said that I really REALLY care about you and want to give you a hug to make sure that you know that? 😢😘💜

[arandomsewer]

Catching up TMNT

Ep 17 B:

-Middle park zoo. Haha

-uh... The monster and its victims are petrified or the animation's low budget for this one?

-uh? What?

-oh shit. NOT THE MAGPIE

I love magpies... They are of the crow familly... Intelligent and VICIOUS

oh, thats gonna be fun

-what's Fat Rat up to?

-April's looking good! Long time no see...

AAAAAHHHH THATSAFOOTSHIRT!!!

-the foot shack. A shoe shop.

(Deep breath throug the nose)

-"this whole situation" the return

-OH SHIT

-no, I can not describe my face reacting to that.

-XD Fat Rat crawling out of the sewers looking like that is actual nightmare fuel

-XD I love that they call him pops

-and the entire encounter secuence

-aaah Magpie Sama returns!

-ahaha pfff HAHAHA I know, April, I know...

-she calls him Splints!

-oh wow, its odd to see them in casual clotes

-April, mah dear, just go back to your job and pretend everything is normal

-oh shit dark past flashbacks!

-SIGH when will people learn?

If you have an evil artifact that should never be found, don't just scatter the pieces. DESTROY them

Like, if it's made of stone, make them dust and throw them to the wind!

If its made of metal, LIKE IN THIS CASE melt a few of the pieces for other uses, like, a cheap buda statue or nails so they will be truly imposible to track and thrown away in time

-that back fixing dance is gonna give him away

-Donnie's head peaking off the bird's nose

-noooo Magpie Sama!!

-bike action!!

-the turtles take the Team Rocket's way ooout!!

-April's ninja moves

-I would tear the clock apart with the excuse that maybe the piece was inside, and use that as a distraction to hide the actual piece

-turtle timing

-april's moves part 2 the return

-take of the mask. Hide the piece in your clotes. Don't just get the train looking like that!

-shit shit shit

-they don't recognice his voice?

-SHIT'S ABOUT TO GO DOOOWN

-cool ass action secuence!! Linda makes me wanna go back and watch in detail

-he called Donnie 'funny one'

-SHIT ooh noo worst timing possible!

-just after such a good scene with the reflection in the sword and stuff...

-knew it. The dance thingy gave it away

-how come they were so calm... Oh wait they don't know thats April

-Jackie Chan's secrets out!!

-yeah, April honey thanks for explaning them

-BUT UNTIE HER BEFORE BATTLE!!

-uh. Paper soldiers.

-I thoug he said they recruited online?

-pfff AHAHA RAPH SAVES!!

-I LOVE his "you are all grounded!" gesture

-shit the metal is alien metal. Of course!

Ok, to get rid of something like that:

1-break the armor in many pieces

2-some of the pieces, put in wet cement, and let dry in a shape that resembles a rock.

3-drop the fake rocks in diferent points of the deep sea.

4-the pieces that remain, put them in displey, completing the armor with fake pieces.

5-maybe perform a fake ritual to exorcise it, to distract the atention

This way if anyone tries the armor, they will think it is complete, and just doesnt work

Also if anyone even tries to retrieve the real pieces, it will be practically imposible to find them.

Heck if anyone does they fucking deserve it!