#i need something to straighten my leg prevent it from going backwards and support it

[oldmanyaoi-jpeg]

well i guess now that i have more followers: are any of you disabled, using mobility aids, and where do you recommend getting them *holds mic out towards audience*

[volleychumps]

Can I request a scenario with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama where their s/o is getting harassed by some creep but when their s/o stands up for herself, they're thinking " oh thank god I don't need to kill anyone". BUT when the creep lays a hand on her, all bets are off and they just punch the dude in the face!Cause there's jealousy and then there's pure protective rage!!!

S/O Who is Getting Harassed w/ Kuroo, Bokuto, and Kageyama 

Warnings: cursing, mild nsfw themes

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Kuroo

“Kitten, I’m waiting~” 

“Keep it in your pants for a second, will you?” You laugh, your shoulder supporting your cellular device as you hold it up to your ear, shuffling around in your bag to find your wallet with your occupied hands. “I still cannot believe you put me in charge of ice cream duty.” 

“It was to prove that me calling you up in the middle of the night means cuddles and anime!”

“So not a dick appointment?” You joke as your finished getting rung out, the woman behind the counter giving you a strange look as you flinch at the fact that you had actually said that in front of another person as Kuroo’s laughter is heard audibly at the other end of the call. Bowing deeply in apology, you rush out of the convenience store as you breathe in the air of the late-night soothingly to calm your embarrassment. 

“I’m gonna come to meet you halfway, alright kitty?” 

“In your car?” 

“No, in a fucking spaceship. Yes, in my car.” 

You roll your eyes, a smile still on your face as you begin your trek in the desired direction as your sassy boyfriend seemed to be getting impatient. 

“I can just skip and not meet you for this appointment you know-” 

“It’s nOT A-” 

You hum in satisfaction as you end the call, walking along the street in search of Kuroo’s vehicle when an instant feeling of being watched sends a shiver down your back. Your hands straighten your clothes as you glance behind you, unsurprised yet uneasy at the sight of a man seeming to stare you down, eyes raking shamelessly upon your figure. 

Kuroo’s brows furrow as soon as he turns the corner, not having parked far as he sees you looking behind you worriedly, seeming to engage in a uneasy conversation with the stranger before you. 

The greasy grin on said stranger’s face had Kuroo’s feet moving before he could think, but the captain stills when he sees you scoff, crossing your arms heatedly at whatever he had said. Now within a hearing range, Kuroo smirks as he leans against the wall as you tell the creep off, hands finding home in the pockets of his red jacket. 

“Can you maybe go crawl back into whatever dump you and your nasty-ass teeth came from?” 

Kuroo’s grin only widens as you roll your eyes and walk past him seeming to be fearless, even shoving your shoulder against his in the process as Kuroo goes to call out to you to enforce the leave of that creep immediately- 

“You bitch!” 

but red flooded his vision as soon as a hand was lain on your bare shoulder, spinning you around roughly as an audible squeak of fear and surprise slips your lips, reeling his arm back- 

And then Kuroo’s feet were really moving. 

Kuroo shoved the guy off you with a snarl on his features, eyes spinning dangerously as your boyfriend delivers a sharp knee to his stomach, sending your attacker to the ground in less than a minute. The smile that spread on Kuroo’s lips was anything but kind as he lifted the now fearful man up a few inches by the shirt, mock-kindness in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, care to repeat that for me again?” The polite words held such a menacing edge as Kuroo grit his teeth, feeling you place a hand on his back soothingly. 

“Kuroo, let’s go.” 

“No. Someone’s gotta teach this prick what happens when people lay their hands on my girl.” Kuroo lets go of his shirt, grinning when he hits his head on the street before lifting him back up again, ignoring his groan of pain. “And that someone’s gonna be me.” 

“Tetsurou.” 

Kuroo groans at your strict tone as if you had interrupted his playtime, fist unclenching around the stranger’s shirt as he makes a hasty escape, tripping himself over in the process before dashing away. 

“Look at me listening to you, princess.” 

Kuroo’s eyes held a pissed-off edge to them as he takes a strand of your hair, running his fingers through it before kissing the strand with closed eyes. Your mouth goes dry when his cat-like eyes open again, staring at you as if you were his favorite posession before cupping your face, leaning closer with a grin that wasn’t happy. 

“Just how tight do you have me wrapped around your little finger?” 

You clear your throat, shifting in place as the moon seems to illuminate Kuroo’s stare, feeling his eyes bore into you as the strand slips from his fingers, his breath beginning to mix with your own.

“Tight enough, apparently.” 

“Just... come cuddle and watch anime with me?” 

“Yeah, we’ll have our appointment, whatever- but kiss me first.” 

And so he did, anger fading away in the movement of his lips against yours, draining away completely when he feels your smile against his.  

Even if it wasn’t an appointment. 

Bokuto

“Bo, I’ll be fine, I promise!” 

“Do you pinky promise?” 

“I- there’s like a 7% chance something will happen to me in the five minutes you’re gone.” 

“That’s 6.9% too much.” 

“Bo, I’m hungry.” You whine, grinning as you win the argument that was hardly an argument, seeing Bokuto’s eyes widen a little in worry before puffing his cheeks out, spinning on his heel in the direction of your desired food stand. 

“You win this one!” 

“I usually do!” You call back, shaking your head at Bokuto’s protective tendencies. A rare off day the two of your shared had wound the two of you at the mall, a day’s worth of shopping sitting at your feet as your golden-eyed boyfriend bought you lunch from the food court. You hummed, scrolling on your phone as you patiently waited until the sound of someone clearing their throat caused you to lift your head. 

Well, looks like you’re going to need to recalculate that percentage. 

“Someone as pretty as you should never be sitting alone in a place like this, hm?” 

“I’m not alone, though!” You chirp fakely, unknowingly causing the boy to press on, taking the seat that was reserved for your spiker boyfriend as you blanch. 

“Nice excuse, sweetheart- but that won’t work on me.” 

You clench your jaw, praying Bokuto wouldn’t return just yet and throw a fit you knew he was bound to throw as you offer a strained smile at the smirking boy. 

“I’m actually waiting for somebody-” 

“I don’t see them, though?” 

Bokuto stills, hands tightening around the tray holding your food subconciously at the scene before him, scenarios drifting through his head on what approach would make you the least mad at him. Cursing him out? Perhaps spiking the lunch tray at his head? That is, until- 

“Do you not understand what waiting means, or does nothing occupy that space between your ears?” 

“Feisty.” 

“Grow the hell up.” You plaster a smile as you flick him off, crossing one leg over the other for effect, causing your pursuer to rise to his feet in a now ticked-off manner as Bokuto grins, eyebrows raising in surprise. 

The grin fades as the asshole uses his thumb and forefinger to pinch your cheeks together harshly, the uncomfort apparent on your expression as you glare heatedly up at him, a crowd beginning to form. 

“Pretty girl with a dirty mouth, huh? That can be arranged-” 

A tap on the shoulder. 

“Do you know what else can be arranged?” 

“Who the hell-” 

He never gets to finish his sentence as Bokuto grabs him by the shoulder, ripping him off you and reeling his own arm back before delivering a punch so hard to the guy’s jaw you swear you could hear a few cracks. The crowd was definitely beginning to get bigger as Bokuto pays no mind, cracking his knuckles as the guy who put his hands on you looks up into the golden eyes of a pissed-off ace, the grin on Bokuto’s face borderline deadly as gold begins to darken. 

“Who am I?” A humorless chuckle that could have been almost considered kind. Bokuto tilts his head innocently as he ignores the bruising on his knuckles, leaning down to ask an equally innocent question. 

“Take a fucking guess.” 

You gasp at the headbutt delivered next, causing your pursuer to groan and fall backwards, Bokuto unfazed before realizing you were now holding him back before grabbing your hand, collecting your bags and your food in a hurry as he tugs you along, ignoring the flash of the cameras and gasps of the crowd. You have to hold him back from turning around for more in your effort to leave. 

“Just one more punch-” 

“Trust me, that was plenty.” 

It isn’t until you reach the parking lot when Bokuto finally stops, holding your hand so tightly it almost feels icy numb, not knowing what to say as his golden eyes turn to you, as if he was trying to hold his anger back. You hear him drop all the bags he’s holding as you hug him quickly, burying your face in his chest as the ace immediately relaxes. 

“God, stop being so pretty.” He finally mumbles into your hair, and you let out a laugh of relief as he calms down. 

“Right. So maybe not 7%-” 

“Y/N?” 

“Yes, Bo?” 

“Never leave my sight, please?” Your heartstrings tug at the crack in his voice, now determined to prevent his emo mode on your day off. 

“That’s a lot to promise.” You find yourself whispering back, pulling back a little to cup his face gently as Bokuto’s forehead touches yours. “But I’m so thankful you showed up when you did. You know what I can promise, though?” 

You smile at Bokuto’s head tilt, feeling the ace impatiently trace his lips along your neck as you giggle, feeling the atmosphere lighten as Bokuto pouts when you pull back with a question- 

“Car sex?” 

Bokuto’s pout is replaced with an excited grin, for this boy worships your body 10000%. 

“I thought you’d never ask, baby! Get in for the ride of your life!!” 

“Just because I feel bad for your bruised knuckles- I’ll let that pun slide.” 

Bokuto smirks as he kisses your forehead, winking at you through the window after closing the car door for you as the day’s events already begin to fade- 

being replaced with something much more important. 

Kageyama 

“...you sure you’re okay?” 

“Of course I’m okay! Why wouldn’t I be? I’m dandy.” Kageyama snaps, causing Hinata to back off with both arms raised in the air as a sign of meaning no harm. The blue-eyed boy grits his teeth from his spot on the sidelines of the court, pissed that the game was starting and he had no way of defending you from the creep sitting by you in the stands. 

Kageyama relaxes a little when he sees you switch seats with an offering Kenma, thankful for his fellow setter for once as his blue eyes meet your bright ones. 

The tension in his face and body drains at your smile, mouthing an I’m okay, do your best! as Kageyama returns his focus to the match just as it starts. Knowing he can’t lose concentration, especially when you’re watching, is hard- considering you were wearing his jersey number and the shortest skirt he had ever seen on you- a promise for something special you had mentioned if he won today’s match. 

He had a little bit of a clue what that could be. 

The match went smoothly with your genius-setter boyfriend playing at his top-game for a reason no one would ever pinpoint as you can’t help but giggle from the secret behind his determination today. 

What you were wearing was for him, but a certain someone didn’t seem to understand that. 

Kenma cast you a worried glance as he raises from his seat as he looks amongst the filled seats, trying to find one for you to sit in as he has to go start to warm up. 

“Y/N-san, what if you go to the other side?” 

“I’ll be fine, Kenma!” You assure him, ignoring the smirk of the guy who had previously started to talk you up. “I’ll probably go stand at the railing.” 

“Mm. That’s probably best- stay safe.” Kenma nods, sparing a warning glance to the scum next to him as if to enunciate his point before taking his leave as you walk up to the railing that was mostly unoccupied. You cheer for Kageyama as he scores quick after quick, thinking you were now in a safe manner. 

But you weren’t. 

Kageyama tilts his bottle upside down to drink down the liquid as soon as the match’s victors are declared Karasuno, the raven-haired boy wiping his mouth as he scans the crowds for you and your expected cheering form for his win, but what he saw had the setter moving quickly despite the ache in his legs. His teammates look on in worry before realizing the situation from a distance. 

“Please leave me alone, sir, I came for one of the players today-” 

“Why have one of these boys when you can have a real man?” 

Kageyama jogs into hearing distance- stopping at the rare, cold edge your tone took on before starting again. 

“Did you not hear what the hell I said, or are you hard of hearing you old geezer?” You keep your smile on, failing to notice the familiar raven-haired boy beginning to deadass climb the railing. “And real men leave girls alone when they ask.” 

“Come on, play nice~” 

You barely have time to flinch when his hand goes up your skirt, and it’s suddenly gone as soon as it does. 

Kageyama was surprisingly calm as he pins the man to the railing, blue eyes spinning with an emotion you had hardly seen before as he holds both hands behind the guy’s back, using his other hand to bow his head down to the ground. 

“Just where the hell do you think you’re touching?” Kageyama seethes as you smile at his sweaty appearance, seeing the man struggle as the rest of the Karasuno team jogs up to the stands as a commotion begins to break out, Suga asking if you’re okay as Daichi and Asahi both take the pervert from Kageyama before the setter can do something rash- 

“Oh, before you take him-” 

You flinch when Kageyama reels his fist back to clock him right in the nose, gasps filling the stands as Kageyama wipes the blood off his knuckles with the end of his jersey, whistling lowly at the cuts on his fist. 

“Alright. You can take him now.” 

Kageyama ignores the scold of his captain as he grabs you by the forearm, tugging you away as you wave a hasty goodbye to Suga as you follow him all the way into the empty hall, spinning you around so he can hold your wrists together with one hand.

“I’m really, really pissed.” Kageyama whispers, blue eyes hardened as you swallow when your back touches the wall, your eyes darting everywhere but on him. “Do you mind?” 

“D-Do I mind what?” You stutter when the setter’s lips touch your neck, sending chills down your spine when he speaks against it, his own hand sliding up your thigh. 

“Use my anger in the little reward you promised me?” 

You laugh out loud, taking a handful of his raven hair before tugging it back with a smile on your features, kissing him sweetly with other intentions. 

“Get me alone first, dummy. Good job on winning!” 

“And-” Kageyama’s voice drops an octave, uncaring of anyone entering the hall as his other hand slides up under his jersey that was adorning your body. 

“I want to cover anything that bastard might have left on you.” 

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla @savemesteeb @kasandrafaye @dreebbles @yams046

[hoodoo12]

Hammer Time

Is this a new story? Yes!

Did I need help from certain people (@strange-n-unbluusual) for certain parts of this, including the title? Yes!

Am I dipping my toe into a different fandom? Maaaaybe.

NSFW. Karl Heisenberg/f!reader.

Enjoy!

It was rare, but even Lord Heisenberg could relax occasionally. That was the case now, with him lounging in a careless manspread on a ratty sofa, pulling on a cigar. Thin curls of smoke twisted above him, and he watched them lazily.

“I’m bored,” you dared to whine.

This could backfire. If he didn’t want to deal with you, you might end up encased in scrap and left to think about how you interrupted him when he was resting. On the other hand, if he was in a benevolent mood, it could definitely work to your favor and alleviate your tedium.

“Bored, eh?” the Lord repeated. “Yes. Will you let me have a smoke?” He pulled the cigar out of his mouth and examined it, like he wasn’t quite sure what it was or how it got there. Without lowering it, he lifted his eyes and focused on you standing a few feet away. His eyes, not hidden by his dark glasses or shadowed by the brim of his hat, were pale. Their color had surprised you, the first time you’d seen them. “Bring me my hammer,” he mused, “and I’ll let you have a drag.” You cocked your eyebrow at him. “A challenge? Just for a smoke?”

The Lord stuck the cigar back between his lips because he knew you couldn’t help watching his mouth. “Let’s see how badly you want it, buttercup,” he replied, smoke spilling out around the words.

A shiver went though you and settled between your legs. He knew you liked the pet name, and what it did to you--

With a sharp turn on your heel, you marched over to his oversized, ridiculous hammer. Once, when he was the most mellow you’d ever seen him because he finally came after you’d edged him an impossibly long time, you’d made a dry comment comparing his favored weapon to his favored body part. He’d actually laughed at that. Unlike what passed as his typical laughter: sarcastic, studded with superiority, he’d chuckled from the bottom of his lungs. The low timber of his true amusement had sent shivers down your spine, in a good way. You felt a little superior yourself, being one of the only ones he allowed to sass him.

In front of his hammer on the floor, however, you silently despaired. There was no way you were going to be able to heft this thing. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained . . .

First you simply attemped to pick it up by the handle, as it was intended. Starting from the end furthest from the head of the hammer, you tested it to see if that was all it would need. No way. Slowly you moved your way up the handle, readjusting your grip each time to be tighter and tighter. Your hands were soon streaked with rust, which left orange streaks on your skirt when you rubbed your palms there to dry the sweat on them. Why was is always so hot in here?! That was a dumb question that Lord Heisenberg had already answered for you: the furnaces ran day and night to keep the factory’s production at a steady pace.

You shook your head to loosen the stray thoughts that had weasled their way in. You needed to focus. Mostly what the movement did was free some of your hair from the tie it’d been held back by. You blew at it from the corner of your mouth when it fell in front of your eyes.

One last chance to pick this thing up by the handle. Wiping your hands dry again, you carefully placed them, one underneath the grip right below the head, one on top--like that was the trick to this--and, after taking in a large breath, letting it out, and filling your lungs again, you made another attempt to pick it up. You failed. From behind you, Lord Heisenberg chuckled in that low tone that made you weak. In your determination to lift his hammer, you’d managed to block him out completely. “Nice try, buttercup,” he praised lightly. The barest tinge of sarcasm was there too, and you flicked a glare back at him as you huffed. “I’m not done yet!” Amusement crossed his face. “Then by all means . . .” He waved the cigar between his fingers back at his hammer, and your task. With another huff, you turned back to it. The problem was the head of the hammer. Welded together of random scrap metal and gears, it most likely weighed more than you did. You walked around it, studying it carefully, deliberately ignoring the man still on the couch watching you. There were plenty of handholds here, and it was solid, which meant you weren’t concerned you were going to lose a finger if you grabbed it wrong and the metal shifted inside. Of course, the Lord of House Heisenberg could make that happen, but he seemed so entertained by your determination that you believed it unlikely he’d maim you. For another moment you considered your options of how to lift it and win. A lever? Would he consider that cheating, or would he be pleased you were innovative? You decided not to risk it, and besides, there was nothing here in his private room that you could use to wedge under it and try to rock it upright. He’d probably say it wasn’t a victory anyway, claiming he expected you to lift it, not just knock it over.

So you just went back to doing what you’d done before: putting your hands on it and trying to hoist it by sheer strength alone. First you tried it from the side opposite the handle. No luck, and at the Lord’s continued chuckle you waved it off, saying, “That was dumb. The handle of this thing was working against me.” He laughed out loud at that dismissive, obviously untruthful, statement. You ignored him.

You moved so you were facing him, found new fingerholds in the gears on the surface, and tried again. Still nothing. This hammer had either been welded to the ground, or you were as unworthy to hold it as you would be lifting Mjöllnir. One last attempt, and you were admitting a pouting defeat. This time you moved around the tool again, so Lord Heisenberg was at your back. Crouching, you twisted your skirt to your hips as if that had been the whole problem holding you back all along, and let your hands skim the irregular surface of the head for a good grip. Once you’d found some that seemed like they would work best, you took a breath and lifted. Using your legs, straining till beads of sweat erupted on your exposed skin, you gave it your best attempt yet. It was moving! Was it moving? It had to be moving--your arms shook with the effort and you groaned-- You were grabbed from behind. “You fuckin’ knew what you were doin’, didn’t you buttercup?” Lord Heisenberg growled in your ear. “Teasin’ me like this. Strugglin’, liftin’ your skirt like a flirt, knowin’ I like to see you sweat--” It was an awkward position he’d caught you in, squatting between him and this tool. and now off balance. You dared trying to rock backwards and reaching one hand behind you to his thigh and waist, to be supported more by him, but he smacked your hand lightly away to discourage that, and moved back himself. It hadn’t been quick enough to prevent you from dragging your fingertips over his crotch and feeling the hardness behind his fly., however. Still, you stumbled over a reply. “N-no, my Lord, I, I--” “Shhhh,” he hissed in your ear, making you shudder.

You stopped trying to answer him. “Lean forward,” he ordered, with just as much quiet command as shushing you. Complying, you leaned over the lumpy surface of the tool you’d been trying to heft to prove what, exactly? It was difficult to remember, when Lord Heisenberg was whispering in your ear and was shifting behind you while doing something with his clothing. The metal of the hammer dug into your chest, so you risked keeping yourself slightly raised so your tits weren’t compressed as much. Even the quick kiss of cool metal through your thin shirt had tightened your nipples.

The sounds of the clink of a metal belt buckle and faint whisper of a fly coming undone followed by the clear rustling of fabric being pushed down, filled the air. Lord Heisenberg finally repositioned himself behind you again. His calloused hands slipped up the backs of your thighs, and rucked your disheveled skirt up to your waist and over your back, exposing your ass. You trembled and a faint moan slipped from your mouth. He caressed the soft skin of your ass for a moment. “No panties,” he announced, unnecessarily. “You did have a naughty plan in mind, didn’t you buttercup?” You remained silent, muzzled in indecision because no, but now yes.

The Lord leaned forward over you again, to whisper in your ear, “Cocktease.” You could feel his cock press against your legs. You held your breath. “Widen ‘em,” he ordered, and once again, you could do nothing but comply. You spread your legs and arched your back, waiting for what you knew came next. Even as he straightened back up again, Lord Heisenberg’s fingers continued to stroking you for a moment, You waited for a smack to your ass that never happened. Just as you relaxed and let the breath you’d been holding out, he spit, making you jump as the wet landed right along the crack of your ass, and slid its way down to your pussy. Sweat would provide some lubrication too, and sometimes he liked it when there hadn’t been a lot of foreplay--“Friction isn’t great for machines, buttercup, but it’s fucking divine on my cock,” he’d told you more than once--but he spat again, missing you this time. The distinctive sound of him stroking his cock made you tremble in anticipation, and when he shuffled forward between your knees you waited with bated breath once more.

The initial stretch of the head of his cock in your cunt made you whine in a much different way than you’d talked to him at the beginning of this. You panted, waiting for a slow thrust so he could feel every bit of you opening under him, but once again he surprised you and popped his hips forward, driving his cock fully into you in one movement. You cried out as your body was filled. Lord Heisenberg groaned too. The pace he set was brutal, snapping his pelvis in sharp, calculated thrusts. The points of his hips slammed against your ass, and if you hadn’t needed to support yourself with both arms, you could have reached back between your legs to cup his balls instead of letting them slap against your pussy. Then again, you might not have touched them, because they also slapped your clit and that sent additional bliss though your belly.

Once he’d gotten into a rhythm that suited him, the Lord leaned over you again. It became obvious he hadn't discarded his shirt, but taht was okay, you were still wearing yours too. His weight pressed you into the hammer, making your nipples ache, but you didn’t dare complain. When his breath exploded into your ear in time with his thrusts, you relinquished your handhold and wrapped your arm around his head, keeping him close as he continued to fuck you. Cries dissolved into mewls as he continued. Your cunt spasmed around his cock, which made him groan at the additional tightness, so you strove to squeeze him as best you could. “You’re a fuckin’ angel, buttercup, takin’ my cock like this--” he grunted against the side of your neck. “A . . . fuckin’ . . . angel--” His truncated sentence was cut short as his hips juddered out of rhythm. There was a pregnant pause, and then with one final, heavy thrust that ended with him balls’ deep in you, he came. That last movement scooted the tool you were draped over several inches across the floor dragging you with it, leaving you in a slightly painful position stretched out under him. As hard as you’d worked to squeeze yourself around his cock, all that effort now went into not bending your spine too far backward with his weight atop you.

The Lord took a few moments to catch his breath. His cock continued to twitch inside you. After he’d collected himself, he pushed up and away. As your own hips were allowed to relax and you also straightened upright again, his come leaked out of you, painting the insides of your thighs. Lord Heisenberg got to his feet, leaving the trousers he hadn’t discarded completely hang open. His cock was slick and a residual bead of semen welled at the tip; if he wanted, you’d shuffle forward and clean him off-- Instead, he held out his hand and helped you up too, taking you back to the sofa. The cigar he’d set aside was still smoldering in an ashtray; he plucked it back up but instead of putting it back to his lips, he held it invitingly in front of your face. “Looks like you won,” he said. Your brow furrowed as you looked between the cigar and his face. “My Lord, I didn’t bring you your hammer . . .”

“But you managed to move it. That’s better than I expected, buttercup.”

The amusement was back in his pale eyes, and you knew better than to argue any more. With a smile like this was exactly the outcome you’d wanted, you plucked the cigar from his fingers and took a drag on it. You grinned more widely, and holding the smoke in your lungs, you stretched upward to kiss him.

fin!

[fullmetalscullyy]

uncertainty

summary: Riza sustains her Promised Day injuries at the same time Roy is pinned by Pride in the transmutation circle

an: tldr i was consumed by this idea all evening. the narrator, probably: this is the darkest timeline

this was originally supposed to be “riza gets her promised day injuries AFTER roy goes blind” but it evolved, grew arms and legs, then ran away from me. but. i am still v invested in that original idea so. why not play about w and write the same thing/something similar twice right? yolo

also. its been like. 4 and a half hours of work so if u see any mistakes no u didn’t <3

shoutout to those who left encouragement/interest in this idea and to meg for spurring the bradley being Bad idea along <333

rating: t | words: 3262 | tags: graphic depictions of violence, angst, angst with a happy ending, promised day, canon divergence, royai

read on ao3 

“Let him go.”

Riza orders the Fuhrer to step down, to remove his swords from the Colonel’s hands, to stop piercing his flesh. Her gun is trained on him easily and Riza discovers she has no qualms about shooting the man in charge of the country. She will not hesitate to do so if he so much as breathes in the wrong way.

After his appearance, and his assault on the Colonel, Riza had watched the tips of Bradley’s swords pierce through the Colonel’s palms, had seen them bury themselves in the gaps in the stone beneath her commanding officer. With her heart in her throat, Riza had inhaled sharply and drawn her weapon without pause, training it on Bradley’s head.

Riza’s voice didn’t betray her raging emotions within. For years – over a decade – she’d kept them under wraps for a variety of reasons. And even now, faced with this horrifying scenario, she did not let them surface. As much as she wanted to, she wouldn’t do it again. Not after her confrontation with Lust. She’d made a promise to the Colonel, and separately, in private, to Roy, not to.

“You were always an exemplary soldier, Lieutenant Hawkeye, following every order without question or complaint,” Bradley remarks. His spine straightens but does not remove his swords from the ground beneath the Colonel’s palms. He does not stop from looming over Mustang but turns his head to look at her. It’s reminiscent of a shark swimming right towards its prey, going for the kill, but Riza does not let that analogy get to her. She strengthens her grip on her pistol instead. “What has changed now?”

He’s toying with her. If she argued against any of his orders while his hostage, he’d have her killed.

A memory suddenly pops into her mind.

“You could always court martial me, sir.”

Riza’s eyes flick to quickly look down at the Colonel, lying pinned, helpless, and watching her anxiously on the floor. Mustang never would, but she misses the days where she could argue lightly against his orders and do what she felt was right and just by him and others she cared about and supported.

The doctor with the gold tooth writhes in agony above the Colonel, Bradley, and Pride, trying to call out for help and salvation, but the homunculi ignore him. Unfortunately, Riza has to as well, for she has seen how quick Bradley is and has felt the terror and harshness of Selim’s shadows, so cannot let herself slip for a second. If she does, it may cost her life. Or the Colonel’s.

“Simply doing my duty to this country and it’s citizens, sir,” she replies evenly. She holds no remorse for her actions. Not after the Fuhrer took her hostage for so long and the team discovered he was part of a scheme to try and kill everybody.

“Your duties involve following my orders, Lieutenant.”

Bradley is reminding her of her position as he trains his single eye upon her, but Riza tries her best to ignore it. It’s unnerving how piercing his gaze is, but she holds steady. She will not give into him and his intimidation.

“I am the highest authority to you. At ease, soldier.” He bites out the words, forcing them out as he tries to keep a lid on his fury.

“Not this time, sir.” She will not blindly follow his orders. Images of the desert flash inside Riza’s mind. Not again.

It angers him, but before he can react properly, Pride quite possibly saves her hide.

“We don’t have time for this, Wrath,” Pride sneers suddenly. He glares at Riza and she stares back, unflinching. She’s an expert at this by now after so many months under their scrutiny. She will not fall now at the final hurdle.

In response to Pride, Bradley angles his head towards him, looking away from her, and Riza feels herself relax momentarily. She does not turn complacent. Far for it. She’s too wired and on edge with the Colonel pinned in a transmutation circle underneath a homunculus’ feet to be close to any semblance of calm. But with Bradley’s gaze no longer pinning her, it’s a welcome reprieve. Her shoulders relax and lower a fraction.

“Enough of this conversation,” Pride continues. “We’ve got more important things to do.”

“Of course.” Bradley sounds so calm that it causes the knot inside Riza’s stomach to tighten. It’s the same knot that’s filled with unease and uncertainty regarding their current situation. It trembles and contracts as she stabilises herself and recentres her weapon so it’s ready to make a kill shot if need be.

“We have more important things to do,” Bradley repeats quietly to himself. His voice is without emotion, completely different from the rage-tinged tone he’d used just moments ago. Under his moustache, Riza sees a small smirk. One corner of his mouth quirks upwards.

In a flash, he rips the swords out of the Colonel’s palms, causing him to cry out in pain. They must have snagged on his skin because his loud gasp was laced with anguish.

Riza fires unflinchingly as Bradley charges at her.

“Lieutenant!” The Colonel’s cry is a gasp. She knows he fears for her, but she cannot focus on that right now.

Her finger does not let up on the trigger and it is relentless. She doesn’t have time to pay attention to it, but behind Bradley, Pride’s shadows dance around the room and she cannot fathom why. If she could spare enough of her concentration and tear it away from the charging homunculus, she’d realise the shadows were protecting Pride’s main body from her bullets flying behind the Fuhrer.

Bradley is too fast. He ducks underneath her weapon and outstretched arms, swinging around to her back.

Before she can blink, Riza can feel the kiss of cold metal on her throat.

Shit.

Her eyes widen, and so does the Colonel’s. His teeth are gritted together as he’s trapped in the transmutation circle, but his eyes meet hers immediately. It’s interesting to note how her own gaze zoned in on his during her sudden moment of helplessness, but Riza knows exactly why. She does not deny it to her heart.

“You’re a pest,” Bradley hisses in her ear.

The metal moves easily against her skin, like a knife moving through butter, and she hears the Colonel yell. As her body crumples to the floor he calls to her. He barks her rank, pleading with her to stay with him and focus on him. Her head hits the ground hard, and she’s dazed for a second. Her vision turns grey, and she cannot focus on anything, but still hears the Colonel calling out to her.

“Hawkeye!”

The others try to surge forward to intervene, but Pride’s shadows lash out and keep them at bay, pushing them backwards towards the outer wall. The homunculus forces them away from the two on the ground, preventing them from helping.

This is it.

She’s lying on the floor, bleeding out, with no one to assist her, and the Colonel is going to be forced to open the portal against his will.

She was supposed to watch his back and protect him. She was supposed to make sure no harm came to the Colonel so he could forge ahead and set in motion the plans he’d voiced to her over a decade ago. This was not how this was supposed to happen. Things changed in nanosecond and Riza’s brain has whiplash from trying to keep up.

“Do it, Pride.” Bradley’s anger is back under control. The bout of rage he’d experienced while advancing on her is gone. Or, it is back underneath his mask, hidden out of sight but simmering just below the surface.

Riza’s eyes meet the Colonel’s – no, Roy’s. His eyes are wide and panicked. She watches him strain against the dark tendrils holding him in place, but his struggle is futile and probably harming him. Through blurring vision she can see the colour red around his hands and up his forearm. The restraints must be cutting into his skin. Her mouth opens, asking him to remain still and not hurt himself. To not harm himself trying to escape to try and help her.

Impossible, she thinks to herself. Roy Mustang would tear the world apart for you. And you, him.

“Colonel –!” She wants to cry out to him, but with her injury it’s just a croak. A strangled, garbled call that doesn’t sound much like anything.

“Lieutenant!”

The homunculi ignore Roy’s cry, filled with such helplessness and anxiety. His expression is one of horror as their predicament hits him full force. His fight abates slightly, it stutters as his chest heaves with panicked breaths while realisation settles upon both their bones simultaneously.

They’re stuck and completely at the mercy of their enemies, with no hope of escape. No hope at all.

“It’s a shame to waste a soul,” Pride remarks quietly, sounding as though he’s talking to himself as he stares at the struggling doctor. His eyes lower lazily and focus on Riza. “When we have a perfectly good one right there.”

“Do it, Pride,” Bradley repeats, snapping this time. His mask is slipping.

Pride’s gaze lingers on her for a fraction of a second longer before turning back to look at the Colonel. His expression is unbothered by what he’s about to do. The complete opposite to the terror Riza can feel building within her.

You’re going to die, and he’s going to be forced through the gate.

“What will be taken from you Colonel, I wonder?”

Roy’s pained scream fills the air and infiltrates the gaps between her ribs. The sound cuts through her painfully, rattling her bones and constricting around her heart. She was supposed to prevent something like this from happening, but she didn’t.

Her vision fades and blurs even more intensely than before as the blue light from the human transmutation turns almost white. She cannot breathe. She cannot think.

The light winks out, leaving nothingness. The doctor falls to the ground, rolling slightly from the impact but Riza can no longer focus enough to determine what has happened to him.

You’re dying and he’s gone.

There was still a chance… A toll must be paid to pass through the gate so he may return alive, able to press on forward and achieve their goals and beat the bastards who did this to them today…

But it will be without her.

As Riza lies there, in a pool of her own blood, hearing her comrades call desperately out to her, a tear escapes from her lids and runs down her temple. She’s breaking her promise to the Colonel, to Roy. She’s leaving him, but it’s against her will, just like he had been forced through the gate against his.

She doesn’t want to leave him.

Images are flashing through his mind as he travels to the gate. It’s too much to bear inside his head. It feels like information is being stuffed into his brain far too quickly, and there’s too much. It’s overflowing. He sees snippets of his life, his past, and perhaps, what is yet to come?

Then there’s Riza, lying on the ground, clutching at her neck and lying in a pool of her own blood, but Roy blinks and she’s gone.

“Riza,” he gasps, the memory of what was done to her penetrating the fog inside his brain. It consumes him and his eyes squeeze closed. It does nothing though, it’s all he can see. It’s seared into his brain. He cannot escape the image of her dying, and him unable to help her.

The white room he suddenly finds himself in is featureless and unforgiving in its brightness. It hurts his eyes. Roy is reeling from arriving in the sudden and jarring expanse of white nothingness he finds himself in after passing through the gate, but he still squints and looks around frantically, looking for Riza, for some familiarity, momentarily forgetting himself as he’s overcome with his grief.

“What happened to her?” He demands an answer from the white being with the chilling smile. “Where is she?”

His questions go unanswered. When Roy starts to advance on it, the being simply smiles at him. After he takes about five steps, something secures around his aching wrist and jerks him backwards. Looking frantically down, wondering what is halting his approach, he realises with horror that these… things look similar to what Pride had used to restrained him before within the circle.

Not again.

“Is she okay?” His frantic cries are ignored.

Roy fights the tiny hands but there is no use. He cannot best them and it's worthless to try, but he continues to shout, beg, and pressure the smiling being to tell him what happened to Riza. To ask if she’s all right and going to live.

He has to. He needs to know.

Roy is drawn backwards, through a towering doorway, and into an inky black existence. Just like before, the last image he sees before everything goes black is chills him to his core. That white thing is still smiling at him in the distance, and for the first time since arriving there, Roy’s hoarse voice falters.

He will not receive any answers. He can yell until he is blue in the face, but no one will tell him if she’s okay, if she’s alive, or what happened to her. Terror was a constant companion after seeing Bradley’s sword slice through Riza’s flesh, but now panic was threating to overcome him once again.

Roy cannot lose her. He can’t.

The doors slam with a finality, leaving him in complete darkness that Roy gets the feeling he will never be able to escape from.

He’s blind.

The last thing he saw was Truth’s unnerving smile, and before that it was Riza on the floor, bleeding out and dying in front of him. That image was the last thing he saw in this world and it’s burned into his mind forever. It will not leave him be in his sudden pitch-black world.

He hates it. Abhors it. He wants to escape it but can’t. It’s with him always. A companion that lays out all of his failings before him. Roy chokes when he thinks about how she was left lying there, alone, critically injured, and he did nothing, could do nothing, to help or ease her pain.

Father tosses him around like a ragdoll, but Roy is still trying to adjust to being blind. He’s blinking furiously, hoping it will all turn out to be a horrible nightmare, but it’s futile. No matter how many times he blinks he cannot shift that image of her.

Is she even still alive?

He will not accept anything less.

“Sir?”

His head whips up and swings around frantically in its search. Roy thinks he may have been mistaken but… It is entirely possible his mind is playing a cruel trick on him, but he would also recognise her voice anywhere.

There’s a pressure on his forearm that commandeers his attention.

“Roy?”

The voice sounds scratchy. It catches as it pronounces the ‘y’ in his name, but Roy is filled instantly with recognition. The muscles of his face go slack as he stares wide eyed, yet unseeing, at the person he knows is in front of him.

Relief explodes within him. Muscles all over his body quiver and shake with it, and Roy cannot help himself. Every consequence, and everyone else, be damned. He surges forwards and upwards to his knees to wrap his arms – albeit clumsily – around Riza Hawkeye’s shoulders tightly.

He doesn’t even need her to confirm it. He knows it’s her by the smell of her shampoo and the faint smell of her perfume. It’s barely there underneath the smell of blood and the day’s grime, but it’s there, with him. It anchors Roy completely and tears surge into his eyelids.

“You’re alive,” he whispers.

Hands clutch desperately at his back. “I’m alive,” she confirms quietly.

Roy doesn’t care. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, and as an afterthought he realises he was lucky. It was not her injured side his face happened upon. Underneath his lips her skin is smooth and unmarked by the homunculi’s cruelty.

Roy inhales deeply and his eyes squeeze tightly closed as he savours the feeling of holding her, of knowing she is alive.

The last time he saw her, she was bleeding out. Dying. Chance, fate, or whoever, were smiling upon him today though, and Roy is grateful. He will take it. Roy doesn’t question her survival, just takes it at face value because that’s all he’s ever wanted in this last traumatic hour.

She’s alive.

Riza is alive.

His worst fear, his nightmare, had not come to pass after all, when it had seemed so likely before and he’d been left floundering, not knowing what the outcome would be.

The ‘how’ can come later. A tear escapes from beneath his closed lids and Roy simply rejoices in that fact while they have a quiet moment together. Another one follows suit when one of her hands lifts to rest upon the back of his head and pats it twice. It seems like a simple, friendly gesture, but he can feel the way the fingers of her other hand tighten their pressure upon his back. She’s still clinging to him and does not let up.

She’s alive. He can’t see her, but he can feel her touch and hear her breath.

“Are you okay?”

He wants to laugh. The joy bubbles up inside his chest when he hears the concern laced within her voice, simply because he is so happy to hear it.

Even if he cannot see her, this is enough for now.

“Are you?” He has no time to focus on himself. Not when the last time he saw her, she was so near death.

“Mei patched me up,” Riza explains, sounding hoarse.

Roy vows that owes that young alchemist a life debt. He will work until his dying breath to ensure it is paid for saving Riza’s life.

He pulls her in hurriedly for another embrace. It affirms that she is really there and breathing, and alive.

What he’s about to say is risky, but he’s in the mood for it. After what they’d just been through, Roy feeds the impulse because he needs her to know what he’s truly thinking.

Just in case.

When it came to Riza Hawkeye, his decisions always did have the tendency to be ruled by his heart, and while Riza still involved her heart completely, she was always the more level-headed and reasonable one, given their circumstances as subordinate and commanding officer.

Still, the situation called for it.

“I love you.” It’s whispered against the skin of her neck. Roy knows Riza hears him because her body stiffens with surprise.

Riza doesn’t respond until after a beat or two. It’s a simple nod, but it’s enough to know she acknowledges what he’s said. Roy doesn’t expect her to reply. They both know where they stand with one another and have done for years. The first time the sentiment had been expressed was after he returned from the academy, so this is not a shock revelation. It’s a means of comfort. A reassurance. And Roy feels it needs to be said. It’s also been a while since he’d last said those words to her, but right now it feels like it’s been too long. Another wrong in his book, but one he could correct immediately.

“I love you too, Roy.”

He blinks, surprised that she has said it back to him among the company of so many people, but they must not be paying attention to them.

Roy tightens his arms around her.

She’s alive, and she knows how he feels about her.

She knows.

They both do.

She’s okay.

That one thought eases all of his fears and leaves him feeling light, like he’s floating on air, so he buries his face into the crook of her neck once more to find an anchor.

[bitchiha]

The Hokages Office (Yamato x Reader)

A/N: this is dedicated to all my Yamato stans (esp uhhh-hatake and papashi) You’re both lovely and I think it’s about time i fed you, my fellow whores <3 I wrote it on and off for about like four days... and I think I did horny tree man some justice. Ending was a little rushed and it’s semi proofread :(

Warnings: this is like a fucking porno script okay bye like it’s all smut. Li te rally all of it. Like there’s maybe like 4 paragraphs that don’t include horniness so... yah. Public sex I guess?? Just look at the title.

Summary: Ever since Tenzou was assigned to team Kakashi, he has been dying to get you alone. However, it seems to be quite a difficult task when you’re always running away flusteredly, he is beginning to lose his patience.

— —

From the moment Tenzou was assigned to Team Kakashi, he could not stop thinking about you; Lady Hokages new assistant.

It was like your flustered face was burnt into the frontal cortex of his brain, numbing his self restraint with every shy smile you gave him. He could never manage to get you alone though, in fact all of your exchanges were just polite and short and in the presence of either Shizune or Tsunade. The hungry beast inside of him constantly lashed out for more. Lord help him, he needed more. But no matter how hard he tried, it seemed the universe refused to give him what he wanted and that beast was always left unsatisfied.

His patience was wearing incredibly thin. It’s been months since the two of you met and the amount of times he’s had to take care of himself because of you was borderline pathetic. He just couldn’t stop thinking about you. The way your skirt clung to your waist, or the way you’d look up at him through your long lashes with those adoring eyes...

His day at the office started with the usual boner. He had barely managed to last five minutes in the building before it happened.

The halls were completely empty, save for you rushing down the passageway ��� straight towards him. He stood there shocked, his feet felt like they were cement blocks holding him in place as he watched your preoccupied figure practically run straight for him at an alarming pace. There was a paper fisted tightly in your hand as you ran through the empty hall. It was probably some paper Tsunade had you go fetch, Shizune being to busy to do so herself. You didn’t seem to notice him in your state, you got so nervous over the littlest things. So much so that you were blinded by them and the inevitable fate was that you two were most definitely going to crash into eachother and all Yamato could do was wait with a twisted excitement.

You slammed into him with as loud thump. He could feel your breasts pushed right against his chest and your hair brush the bottom of his chin. A gasped slipped from your muffled lips, your face pressed to his chest. Once you realized you had knocked into another person, whose heart was beating 100 miles per hour, you peered up at them. When you recognized Yamatos face you managed to retract your body embarrassedly, but the damage was already done to Yamato’s now tightening pants. A look of surprise was set across his face as he processed the lingering feeling of your body against his, this had to be the most pathetic moment of his life and a record breaker for the worlds fastest boner.

But ss Yamato observer these past few months, your nerves bad blinded you and you didn’t seem to notice. “Y-Yamato! I’m so sorry!!” You said as you avoided eye contact, “I-I’m just.. I’m just a little behind with schedule and I can’t seem to find Shizune to give her this—“ you breathlessly babbled, he wasnt really focusing on any of the words you spoke though. The only thing he was thinking about was how he wanted to make you stutter out his name like that again, the sound was practically tattooing itself onto his brain.

As usual, before Yamato had the chance to respond, the two of you heard a sound from down the hall. He watched as your face perked up, like a puppy at the sound of a squeaky toy. You turned away from him, glad for an opportunity to escape, “That must be her!” And you were off again, shooting down the hall leaving Yamato to stare after your disappearing figure and to deal with an raging hard on..

And here he was now, about a half and hour later, alone in the Hokages office. The boner still prevelant, more than before as the thought of your body pressed against his was superglued to his brain. He was grateful that his pants were loose fitted and made it a little difficult to see, but he honestly didn’t put up much of an effort to hide it anymore. Lady Tsunade has already seen the imprint of his pants grow gradually bigger these past couple of months, there was no use in trying to hide it anymore. He debated if he should just go jack off in the bathroom, it wouldn’t matter if he was a little late, right? Afterall, Tsunade clearly didn’t care about her own tardiness.

The sound of someone’s footsteps approaching caused him to stop his internal debate. Instead, he listened carefully as he try to identify the owner of the sounds — was it Tsunade? No... They were too fragile to be Tsunades, she walked with much more authority.. Shizunes? Not likely. They were too light to be Shizunes, who’s steps were always frantically beating the ground as she chased the Hokage about. No.. These steps were definitely y/n’s and she seemed to be rushing straight for the office.

His heart rate sped up at the thought, straightening against the wall. Was it too good to be true? He silently prayed to see the shy girl appear as he watched the closed door intently. Desperately trying to manifest the sight. The footsteps got closer, and closer, and the door knob began to turn.

“—Lady Hokage!” You screeched breathlessly as you stumbled into the room, a huge stack of papers balanced in one hand as the other whipped the door open. Bingo.

He watched with surprised eyes as the poor assistant begin to nervously babble out an apology for her tardiness. It took a minute for you to collect yourself and realize there was no one to hear your apology. When you did, you let out a sigh of relief at the empty room, clearly failing to notice Yamato behind you. No wonder you were still an assistant in training.. your nerves were worse than Shizunes. He observed indulgently as muscles in your back untensed through your blouse and you sighed in relief, placing the stack of papers on the already cluttered desk. Your skirt rising up just the way he pictured when he thought about you in the late hours in the night, causing a scratching from the hungry beast inside the observing Shinobi.

You quickly thanked the empty room for the salvation of escaping Tsunades wrath, hanged wringing to together with relief. The little display caused Yamato to chuckle quietly, resulting in a startled yelp from the assistant. You stumbled backward, leaning your body against the desk, facing the Shinobi who had been behind you. He noticed how your legs trembled a little, like a baby deer and he couldn’t repress his excited smirk. This is just how he pictured this.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you, y/n.” He said with a sly smile as he straightened up and peeled his body off the wall.

“N-no thats okay!” You managed to yelp out, bowing respectfully to the ninja, your vision lowering with your movement, catching the tent in his pants. Your mouth fell open a little at the sight. You were bent in a bit of an awkward position, your legs were still shaking causing you to rely on your arms leaning on the desk for support. Nonetheless he appreciated the gesture and how you pretended not to see the obvious surprise in his pants as you straightened up again. You were always such a good girl, always so respectful, but he didnt fail to notice your lingering eyes.

Yamato chuckled again at your wandering gaze fueling this dream in his hesd. Yeah, he’s struck gold, that’s for sure. The sight of you all flustered like this, all because of him, it caused another stirring in his pants and a boost to his confidence.

“Do you you know what you do to me, y/n?” He asked in a falsely nonchalant tone. His body carrying him towards the desk, not before making sure to lock the office door.

“What do you mean, Y-Yamato?” You nervously sputtered out, dodging his question as he came closer, like a lion approaching it’s prey. He couldn’t waste anymore time. This whole thing was a sign. It was a damn sign from the universe. Having you here, in this room that he’s fantisized about taking you in so many times, it was a gift. Afterall his waiting, he was finally getting rewarded and had zero intention to take this opportunity for granted.

“Not gonna answer?” he finally reached you, body towering over yours, repeating those same words he thought about saying to you before. Both his arms coming down on the desk, caging your body between them as he whispered, “I guess I’m just going to have to show you then.”

He watched your parted mouth with vigour, waiting for a protest or a sign of objection, but nothing came. Instead he watched the slick of saliva coating your tongue as your open mouth stuttered, attempting to say something, but only mindless splutters coming out. It took everything in him to prevent himself from just devouring you right then and there.

You stared at him with a doe eyed look, his clouded eyes meeting yours to pool into your irises. His bold advances were new to you, you’d never had someone do this to you before. But you werent complaining, you’d always wanted this — wanted him.. but you could never tell him and to see him so eager and hungry for something — for you — had done a wonderful job on soaking your panties.

Your shaking legs were pushed apart by Yamato’s knee, taking the look in your eyes as a sign of permission. You felt your legs giving out as your arms struggled to hold you up. Luckily his hands snaked around your waist and hoisted you up onto the desk. He drank up this innocent little way that you acted and he wanted nothing more than to have your legs shaking under him for an entirely different reason.

You felt your ass pushing the stack of papers you placed down previously, making room for you on the cold wooden table. There was a sound of brief swooshes, papers slipping to the floor as your mouth fell open a little more.

Before you had the chance to manage some some sort of comment about the papers in your shaky little voice, he leaned his head closer to yours and you instantly making you stop your thoughts in their track. You felt his hot breath against your mouth. You tried to say something you really did, but the only thing that came out was a whimper. He chuckled again, his lips brushing against yours as he did so. You wanted this just as bad, didn’t you? Then he wouldn’t want to make his little angel wait. Without further notice, he pressed his lips to yours.

He was much better than you at the kissing part, probably because he dreamed about this on a daily. His tongue swiped over yours eagerly, the sensation made you moan giving him better access to your mouth. Sliding right in, his tongue swirled around yours almost immediately. You immediately gave him dominance, causing him to groan into your mouth with satisfaction. He savoured how you let him drink you in, his fingers roaming about your body as he did so. They started at your waist, one coming down to your thigh while the other moved up to your chest.

After he couldn’t continue without suffocating, he pulled away. A string of salvia connected your mouths together and he brought a hand to his lip to break its connection, watching it fall back against your chin. You were too lost in what had just happened to bother wiping it away, allowing Yamato to mentally take a picture of the sight. He pressed your ass towards the edge closer to him, allowing your core to collide with his bulge. You let out a gasp, hands gripping onto his shoulders for support.

“See what you do to me? Do you know how long I’ve wanted this? You wanna know what I do when I go home everyday after seeing you in these little skirts?” His eyes never leaving yours as he spoke, the look in his eyes was borderline animalistic. “I stroke my dick to the thought of fucking you on this desk.”

Your response was just a jerking of your hips towards his own, what he was implying was too much for you. It was an involuntary action, but you were glad your body had done something other than just stare at him. “I— Y-Yamato... I didn’t know that.”

He scoffed, but it was more of an “of course you wouldn’t know” kind of sound. His hands travelling up your blouse and beginning to undo the buttons one by one. “How could you know? I can never get the chance to tell you how I feel because someone’s always barging in. So let me show you then, let me show you exactly how you make me feel.”

As his actions process, your reaction a little delayed due to all the cloudiness in your head. Your mind was swimming in the heat of his words. Once you managed some coherent thoughts, your hand flew up to his, pausing his work on your shirt. “Wait! W-What if Lady Tsunade hears? What if she comes back? Yamato.. I.. we can’t..” despite your hand atop of his, he swatted it off and resumed unbuttoning your blouse with a snicker.

“Then I guess she can watch, you’ve tortured me for months y/n. There’s no way I’m stopping now. Not when I’ve finally got you to myself.” And the truth is that you didn’t want him to stop either. You’ve wanted him just as much as he was wanted you, your desperation allowing you to stop your worries and let Yamato continue.

He stopped with the buttons once they were about two thirds undone, open enough that he could get a perfect view of your chest. Shoving the blouse down your shoulders, he gave himself a more clear view of your bra and your collarbones. The bra was a simple lace white fabric and he could see your erect nipples peaking out, causing him to practically drool. They’re even prettier than he imagined. He shoved your bra straps downwards, pulling the fabric covering your flesh with it, giving him full access to your now unclothed breasts.

He immediately dipped his head down to kiss and lick the flesh, his brain recording all of your sounds of pleasure. Your arms tightened around the back of his neck, little panting moans escaping your lips at this new feeling. Then he began to suck at one of the buds, his tongue eagerly swirling around it, the gasp that left hear your mouth fueled his assault further. He could your noises becoming muffled, you had bitten your lip to stop yourself from being so loud. He pulled away with a pop to look up at you, “You’re so responsive. So loud for me. I bet you want this just as much as I do, huh?” He could practically feel the heat radiating of your face, you looked like you were going to burst. So much so that you only managed to squeak out a yes.

“Huh? I can’t hear you, y/n. You weren’t that quiet a second ago,” god he was enjoying this, “I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself then.” Those words puzzled you, unsure of what he meant for a moment — but as you felt his hands travel down to your skirt you knew exactly what he intended to do.

His hand bunched up the fabric of your skirt, holding it up to allow him to view of your white panties, matching your bra. He couldn’t help but groan at the sight. “Wow, sweetheart. Were you wearing these in hopes that I’d see them?” He crouched down infront of your legs, one hand still bunching the skirt up while the over came down to stroke your clothed core. “You’re a little angel.”

Shocks of pleasure shot through you as he continued to stroke your clothed pussy. Causing you to grip the edge of the desk. The sensation only became stronger as he pushed your panties aside, dipping a digit slowly into your already soaked core. Yamato let out a sound of approval at just how ready you were for him. “See? I knew you wanted this just as bad as me, y/n.”

You wanted to say something, talk to him the way he was talking to you, but you were such a flushing mess. Finally, after you adjusted a little to his fingers and the pace, you managed to say something through your panting moans. “Yamato please... I want to make you f-feel good too.”

Those words caused his pace to falter for a second, he looked up at you with a satisfied smile before his pace completely stopped. His fingers laying still agaisnt your plush walls while his thumb pressed against your throbbing clit. “You want me to feel good too? Oh what a good girl you are. But don’t worry, I’ll feel good soon too. I Just want to make sure you’re ready for me first.”

His eyes returned to your wet core, watching as his fingers pushed in and out of you. He didn’t know when he would get this opportunity again, so he needed to cherish all the future jack off material he could get. You squeaked when he entered his second finger into your core and he moaned lowly as he watched your pussy struggle to take two of his digits. “God you’re so tight, how’re you gonna take my cock?”

“I’ll take it! I promise I can handle it!” You managed to respond as your eyes squeezed shut. Being the shy girl you were you didn’t have much sexual experiences prior to this, but that didn’t mean you didnt have fantasies and right now Yamato was doing a good job at fulfilling them.

“Such a determined girl, so good for me.” He grinned at your responsiveness as his thumb circled your clit, eyes trained on your pussy. He felt you begin to clench around him and he looked up to watch your face build up with the anticipation of a little death.

“Not yet, sweetheart. You’re gonna cum on my cock like good girls do, okay?” You nodded furiously as you began to hold back your impending orgasm. Just when he knew it was too much and you were going to spill over the edge, he stopped, retracing his fingers completely and standing up.

You hated how empty you felt as they retracted, but you knew what was coming next was going to be even better. As Yamato began to fiddle with his pants you took the opportunity to press a kiss to his lips. The gesture was surprising knowing how shy you were, but the kiss was so soft and sweet he forgot about undoing his pants and let his hands roam your body. His hands came up to palm your breasts, causing you to gasp into the kiss. That innocent noise making him lose his restraint again, shoving his tongue into your mouth. He dragged it along your gums, your teeth and then swirled it around your own muscule, it seemed as though he was trying to memorize every ridge and crevice you had.

You pulled away to gasp for some air, and he took a moment to look at your dishevelled appearance. Blouse tugged down, hanging onto your shoulders as your breasts peaked out courtesy of him shoving the fabric down earlier. “I’m gonna fuck you know y/n. And I want to do it with you bent over this desk.” He stepped back, giving you enough space to comply with his wishes. You nodded obediently, eager to please him. Standing once again on your shaking bambi legs, you turned around.

Your wetness was practically slipping down your legs as Yamato hiked up your skirt and pulled your panties down. He bent down to lick a small dribble of your slick that had began to slide down your thigh, his sudden desire to taste you taking over him as he licked further up towards your heat, savouring every taste his buds could collect. Greedily he starting to lap at your soaking core, faster and faster his restraint failing him miserably as those heavenly sighs left your lips.

There was just so many things he wanted to do to you. He wanted to do every fuckable thing to your pretty body, but he simply didn’t have the time. Reluctantly pulling away his tongue — a whine escaping your lips as he did so — he stood back up again. “You’re making me get carried away here, y/n.” He scolded teasingly before straightening himself up and fussing with unzipping his pants.

You were practically shaking with excitement as you heart the sound of the zipper giving way and the gentle whisp as the fabric falling to his knees. Listening intently to the sound of his boxers slipping down his thighs next, you let out an excited noise feeling his cock slap against your ass.

“So excited aren’t you? So eager for my cock. Gosh, I bet your play with yourself at night to the thought of me having my way with you.” He slides in unexpectedly as he finishes his thought, causing your hands so slip against the table. You lose your balance, arms stretching against the desk, back arching allowing even more of his dick to sink deeper into your tight pussy.

“Gosh you fit just right.” He groaned, letting himself completely sink inside you, the sight of your new position made his mouth water. Your tits were pressed against the desk as you arms splayed you out infront of him. His cock twitched at the sight, he didn’t want to cum too fast, but this was just too much.

He began with slow eager strokes, absolutely drunk on the noises you were making and just how warm and welcoming your pussy was for him. You moaned loudly at the feeling of him stretching you out like this.

Suddenly, he became very curious about something. He picked up the speed of his thrusts, the angle of this position giving him wonderful access to your sweet spot and he made sure to hit it every stroke. “What do you use when you think about me?” You a manged so slide your head against the table to look at him, cheek burning as you did so. There was a little bit of saliva that was beginning to pool out of mouth and when Yamato saw your sinful face he only became more violent in his pace and that only made you make even more sinful faces.

“What do you fuck yourself with when you think about me?” He repeated again, adding a much more aggressive thrust to the end of his sentence, showing he wanted you to answer it. The thrust caused your tits to drag further on the desk making a squeaking sound, only to be retracted once again as Yamato dragged your ass back onto his cock.

How could he expect you to respond when he was practically making you see stars? “I..” you said some incoherent words and Yamato slowed his pace down just enough for you to get your head back on.

“Come on sweetheart, I need to hear you say it. Tell me, tell Yamato.” When you still couldn’t answer his pace practically stopped. He made the slowest thrusts possible, each one managing to hit that heavenly spot inside you.

It’s like he was making it difficult on purpose. “F-fingers! I use my fingers.” You managed to finally stutter out, tears sprinting against your eyes.

That answer must have satisfied him a little because his pace began to quicken somewhat. “And what do you think about when your fingers are fucking your cunt? What do you think of me doing to you?”

“This!” You didn’t even have to think about the answer. This was exactly what you would think of, what you would daydream of as he stood on the office reporting to lady Tsunade..

Now that answer was definitely the right one and before you knew it he was pushing into you again at a rapid pace. “Ngh, that’s right. I knew your mind was wandering everytime we‘re in the same room. Your much dirtier than you’ve lead on, such a naughty girl.”

You couldn’t respond, the only sounds you managed to make were moans of pleasure as you felt yourself clenching more and more around his cock. “Oh you’re gonna cum now aren’t you? All over my dick, just like in your dreams.” His words fueling your orgasm as he felt you spasm around, him cumming all over his dick. He watched as your cum seeped out a little between his thrusts. Studying your face he memor the way it was pressed into the desk, your mouth open and your tongue peeking out, a thin film of drool puddled around your quivering mouth as he continued to fuck you through your high.

After a few more thrusts Yamato knew he couldn’t hold back his orgasm anymore. Your numb brain could somewhat piece it together too as you felt his cock twitching inside you. You’d both thought about this moment many times before and the one thought that always set you over the edge the fastest was when he let himself spill inside you.

“Yamato,” you mumbled hazily as you seen his own contemplation through foggy eyes. His pace was getting sloppy. “Can you cum inside me, p-please?”

As soon as he processed what you asked him, he came right into your sore little cunt. It took a surprising amount of strength for the shinobi to keep standing upright and holding your hips to his own at the pure bliss of his high. Holy fuck, that was so much better than anything he’d imagined.

The two of you stayed silent for a few minutes, trying to collect yourselves. As he began to pull his dick out of you the mixture of both your orgasms dripped out from your legs. He turned you around so you were laying on your back as he gingerly cleaned you up, lacking the resources to clean you up properly he settled on the tissues on Tsunades desk. Then he moved to pick up the fallen papers, letting you lay on the desk like a little doll until you were finally back from your high.

You were so fucked out that he had to help pull your panties back up for you, as well as adjust your bra and rebutton your blouse after he finished with the stack of papers.

Had he been too rough? You seemed like you were enjoying it when he was ramming into you, maybe he let himself indulge a little too much...

Your sweet little voice broke him out of his thoughts, “Yamato, would you help me go home please?” He watched your trembling little legs as you tried to stand, he was glad his wish from earlier had come true; your legs were wobbling for a different reason now.

“Of course, y/n. You were such a good girl, you did so well.” He pressed a kiss to your lips before wrapping in arm around your waist and guiding you out of the room. “What’re you gonna tell Tsunade now that you’re leaving early?”

You smirked to yourself, Yamato not noticing as he unlocked the Hokages door with his free hand. “We won’t have to worry about that.” Unbeknownst to the man holding you, you had grown impatient with your lack of alone time with Yamato too.

So lady Tsunades absence and everyone else’s for that matter, well.. that wasn’t some gift from the universe, it was an elaborate plan you had made yourself. You’d kept them all busy so you could finally have some time with Yamato. Turns out you were so much naughtier than anyone at the office could have thought thought.

[alma37]

I checked on AO3 and, a year ago today [02/02/20, for those of you who are a few hours behind France], I started posting for a deliciously wicked fandom, Dracula 2020.

So, to mark the occasion, I decided to post here (on AO3 later today), a little one-shot I thought about a few days ago. I wanted to put it in one of my wip, but it didn’t quite fit. I still liked the idea, though, and I needed to write it.

This is also kind of a gift for @hopipollahorror and @lady-of-the-wolves, my steadiest supporters of late. Thank you, girls, I am not sure I would have started writing again without your support.

For @thebeautyofdisorder, I know you had a rough year and I wish you a great 2021. We have so many tastes in common, It seems I continuously reblog from you. I am well aware it won’t make your troubles disappear, but I hope this little piece will make you forget them for 5 minutes (and that it won’t be perceived as further punishment or what’s the phrase? Cruel and unusual punishment!😉) .

For my other mutuals, I know we don’t talk much, if at all, but I am glad you came to see and stayed.

And, of course, for all my followers, occasional readers and everyone else who took the time to come and check my little nothing of a blog, leave comments, reblogs and likes. Thank you guys.

And now, i leave you with a small piece I had great fun to write. As usual.

I apologise for the long-ish introduction.

*************

This is a Dragatha, sometimes in the future (theirs, not ours; perhaps it is our present, in fact, who knows?). Dracula turned Agatha into a vampire. A long time before this fic.

Some sort of enemies with benefits.

And it actually answers to this prompt. I think.

Title : A [h]arrowing evening

Fandom : Dracula TV 2020

Relationship : Agatha x Dracula

Rate : I’d say T or light M

Words : I don’t know, I didn’t count, go check on AO3 when it’s posted!

- Come on, Agatha. Just admit it : you like me!

The former nun turned vampire, Dracula's most fervent opponent, was backed up against the wall, a small wooden arrow in her hand. Why did she decide to come and see him in his own apartment, she’ll never know. Her nemesis was crowding her, a triumphant smile on his face. She defended herself.

- Stop being so arrogant, Count. I don't like you.

- Oh but I think you do. Very much so.

His growing smirk, his roving hands and, mostly his acumen were too much for her. Suddenly blinded by years of pent up rage and frustration, she drove the arrow into his chest with ferocious intent. The small stake slid under his ribs upwards towards his heart.

For a moment, they stayed still face to face, Dracula's smile slowly fading, morphing into an expression of utter stupefaction, as his eyes fell on the weapon thrust into his thorax. Annoyed, Agatha pushed him backwards. To her absolute consternation, he stumbled with a groan, then bent over, his hand reaching blindly for the small piece of wood. His face was now wearing an expression of agony before his legs started to give out under him. With horror, Agatha watched him slowly falling to his knees before his upper body followed suit and he went down like a dead weight. By chance or instinct, he fell to his side, only just avoiding the stake from driving through his heart. Once on the floor, he started writhing in pain, barely able to hold his screams. Finally, Agatha understood : the arrow must have stopped short of piercing the heart, but was probably touching it if his convulsions were any indication.

After a moment of indecision, Agatha grabbed his shoulders to hold him flat on his back then straddled him.

- Stop squirming. You'll only succeed in piercing your heart yourself.

- As if you didn't intend to do it!" Her victim hissed through his pain.

Agatha opened her mouth to retort, then closed it, before she finally replied, surprised with herself :

- I... don't know.

His face was deformed by the unusual pain he was in. She supposed he probably hadn't felt this bad in centuries. Serves him right, but... His strained voice made her jumped out of her thoughts.

- Whatever you intend to do, Agatha, please do it now. It is unbearable.

At his begging tone, the younger vampire froze for a long time, undecided : finish him off, like she promised herself a long time ago, as it was a chance she certainly wouldn't have again, or remove the arrow and stop the bleeding, against all her principles?

Her nemesis was in a state of anguish she had never seen him before. He was shaking so hard, trying to control his body.

But he wasn't begging anymore, just waiting for her decision. She could see in his eyes the torture he was enduring. He still didn't utter another sound.

And she realised that, as much as she thought she hated him, she couldn't bring herself to just end his life, as lifeless as it was.

He was not only a unique creature, he was also the only one who understood her and she realised with a shock that she came to care about him in a way that prevented her from driving the small arrow all the way through his heart. She actually liked their fighting : it was invigorating and, yes, fun. They hadn't really tried to kill each other for years now. His half-hearted attempts to get rid of her, lately, was his way of flirting, she supposed. And apparently, she thought in dismay, became hers too.

But the biggest blow came when she finally realised she actually wanted to tame him somehow or maybe convince him to redeem himself in some ways, which was barely thinkable, much less doable. She just wanted him. Full stop. And annihilating him forever didn't suit her purpose anymore.

- Whenever you want, darling." The count groaned through gritted teeth, his brow drained in sweat.

At last, Agatha came to a decision and, instead of doing what her conscience was telling her, she chose to follow her heart : she wrapped her hand around the piece of arrow that stuck out from his chest and pulled it out without warning.

She was thrown out from his lap by his violent recoil as he screamed out of his lungs in pain. Agatha, not deterred, scrabbled back to him and pinched the wound to stop the bleeding. That last part was easy, as Dracula had promptly passed out.

When she understood he wasn't going to wake up any time soon, she put him to bed and took a book, while keeping watch over him, berating herself all night long for her weakness.

At dawn, the older vampire slowly emerged from unconsciousness. When he opened his eyes, he looked around as if searching for something - or someone. When he found her watching over her book, he started asking in a rough voice : "What..." He cleared his throat several times before trying again :

- What happened?

Agatha lifted an eyebrow.

- Don't you remember?

Dracula began shaking his head :

- I don't... I seem to remember flirting with you and... Ah!" His face cleared. "Yes! You tried to kill me.

Agatha shrugged.

- And I would have succeeded this time.

Dracula straightened up with a groan. Agatha, taking pity on him, piled up a few pillows behind his back and helped him get a more comfortable position on the bed. When she tried to sit back on her armchair, the Count held on to her hand, so she was either obliged to sit on the bed or tried to shake his grip. She chose the easy path and sat next to him.

- So why didn't you finish me off?You had me at your mercy, you could have cleared this world of my evil presence.

Agatha didn't look at him but rather at their joined hands.

- I.. I don't know.

- You would have missed me!

Agatha snapped back.

- Don't be ridiculous!

Dracula smiled his devilish smile.

- You, Agatha van Helsing, like me!

- I most certainly do not!" Agatha protested, outraged. She tried to remove her hand from his, but he was holding fast.

- Well, I wouldn't blame you, you know. I am probably... Definitely head over heels in love with you after last night's little demonstration.

Agatha finally pulled her hand out of his, and stood up, shaking her head.

- You are a...

- monster?

-... beast! And obviously better. So I am leaving. Goodbye, Count Dracula.

Dracula reached for her once more :

- No, wait!

Agatha sighed, annoyed :

- What?

- You could at least kiss it better.

The former nun was about to will him to hell but something in his apparent casualness made her change her mind. She came back to sit on the bed and, after barely an hesitation, she straddled him. She felt him tensed momentarily, probably a reminder of the previous night. But he relaxed when she gently unbuttoned his shirt. She glanced at him and smiled when she saw his look of intense concentration turned towards her. She bent over and she licked the disappearing scar under his ribs. She felt his entire body shudder with pleasure, which made her smile grow larger. She had cleaned him the previous night, so there was no blood to tempt her. His all body was temptation enough. She nibbled at the scar then soothed it with her lips and tongue. Her nemesis had grown rigid from repressed desire. She finally moved from the scar to make her way upwards with slow, languorous and arousing kisses.

The first time he tried to touch her, she took his hands and flattened them back on the bed. The second time, she just held onto them.

The third time, she felt his eagerness wouldn't be denied, so she deftly evaded his grasp before he could close in on her. She moved swiftly out of the bed and put some distance between them, so that he could not reach her fast enough.

- And that's about all the kisses you'll ever have from me. Get a rest, Count Dracula. I will come and check on you tonight.

Without waiting for an answer, she left him in a state of obvious arousal, but laughing at her cunning.

- I can't wait." He called after her. He couldn't resist having the last word. Agatha shook her head in disbelief, but she was smiling.

*********************

Soooo, what did you think? (If it’s bad, please don’t tell me! 😉)

Anyway, I just really really wanted her to stab him at close range and truly physically HURT him (like Zoe, in TDC, but more purposely, if you know what I mean).

For the arrow, I imagine she has a small-ish one, like those used for a crossbow, except it is completely made of wood, even the tip. Something like that...

But, well, you know me : I always prefer a happy (-ish) ending. Reality’s sad enough. We don’t need it into fiction. In any case, I hope you enjoyed it.

If you really liked it, give me a shout and I’ll post the little follow-up I just had an idea of. Which is more on the comedy side (as in funny).

[saiilorstars]

Rise Up

Ch.10: A Jinx's Path

Previous Story: It Had To Be You || Current Masterlist

Pairings: Barry Allen x OFC

Chapter Summary: Team Flash and Arrow join together, along with time traveler Graciela Haynez to defeat Vandal Savage. It's only in the end that Graciela reveals the true nature of her status.

This chapter (and the previous) serve as a prequel to Graciela’s full story Redemption.

Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog​ @maaaaarveeeeel​ @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles [If you’d like to be part of this OC’s taglist, let me know!]

Visiting Star City when it was due to some strange, mystical man wasn't exactly on Barry's top five things to do. Yet there he was because an innocent woman was being hunted down by the mystical man. At least he could be surrounded by friends who would be able to help him in case something went wrong.

While everyone came up with a decent plan for Kendra Saunders, they gathered in Oliver's apartment for some drinks that night. Barry had listened to how much had changed for both Felicity and Oliver, and honestly couldn't hide his shock.

"So, you're the CEO of Palmer Technologies," Barry pointed to Felicity Smoak as he wrapped his mind around the idea of Felicity being big boss as a company, "And you're now living with Oliver Queen."

"There you go, you got it!" Felicity sarcastically hit him on the arm.

"It's insane how much life can change in six months, huh?"

"Which you would know better than anyone, considering that there's another Flash, another Dr. Wells, from another... earth. I mean…" but as much as Felicity tried wrapping her mind around a new Earth it just wouldn't. "I wonder what Oliver's doppelganger would look like. Bald, pot-bellied…" Barry laughed at the idea and sneaked a glance at Oliver in the kitchen. "Haven't asked, how are you and Belén doing?"

"Uuh...I mean, we're good," Barry meant to be honest in that in terms of being a couple they were indeed good, but there were some rough patches that didn't exactly pertain to their relationship.

"I sense there's a 'but' somewhere there…" Felicity narrowed her eyes on him, ready to scrutinize him on the spot.

"It's not about us, it's just we're dealing with...you know...other world and stuff."

"Oh…" that seemed to calm Felicity more or less.

"I love her and I hate seeing her so stressed... I want to help her but I don't know how." And Barry despised that fact. He had the answers to his speed because there were people to train him, even if some of those were evil, but the fact laid in that he garnered the skills because of guidance. Belén didn't have that. To find the answers, she was basically on her own.

~0~

While everyone mingled, Cisco took opportunity to have a word with Barry on the side. He hadn't been sure if he wanted to tell Barry what he saw but Cisco was sure it would inevitably help Kendra in the end.

"You 'vibed' Kendra?" Barry was surprised to hear.

"Unintentionally," Cisco left that clear before he went on. "But remember the man with wings? It wasn't a man. It was Kendra. She was, like, a bird. You think that she's a meta-human?"

Barry could not be sure, and neither was Cisco. "Mm... Wait. Why didn't you say anything about this sooner?"

Cisco gave a light shrug. "Well, I didn't think it was related, but I guess now it has to be. Look, I don't want her to know about my powers. I have this great thing going with her. She laughs at my jokes, and she loves movies, and... I just... I've never felt like this before, and I don't want to sabotage it."

"I get the feeling," Barry could honestly relate.

"Look!" Kendra had jumped from her seat to point at the glass wall overlooking the city.

Vandal Savage was swinging forwards and broke through the window. Everyone backed away as the man got up. He certainly seemed at home when he saw Kendra. " I will always find you, Chay-Ara."

Barry sped Oliver and Thea their arrows. Oliver quickly took aim on Savage. "Don't move."

"Then how will I kill you all?" Savage pulled out several pocket knives in a second and threw them strategically at them all. Barry sped down and managed to get the knives before they were able to hurt anyone.

Oliver then took his moment to shoot arrows towards Savage. The intended victim ducked and dodged like there was no tomorrow. At the same time, a familiar purple and black leathered figure swooped in through the hole Savage left on the wall. With one leg stretched on the floor and a hand keeping her from falling, Jinx shot her purple beams at the lights above and caused massive sparks to fly down on the group.

"You again?" Savage faced her, fairly curious with the persistent women.

"Me, again," Jinx smirked as she straightened up. "We weren't finished."

"We weren't," Savage didn't hesitate to start throwing more blades her way.

She backtracked while dodging them all with those bright purple beams that seemed to either change the blades' direction or crush them altogether. Oliver and Thea joined again, although neither was sure who that woman was, and shot more arrows towards Savage. Jinx dropped her hands and ran forwards to engage Savage in hand-to-hand combat. She proved to be skilled as she jumped and blocked Savage's punches while throwing one of her own. Finally, Savage became agitated it was all taking too long and surprised Jinx with a different, golden chopped knife. It would have came straight at her heart if Barry hadn't sped in and grabbed it three inches away from her. In her shock, Savage took his opportunity and escaped by jumping off Oliver's balcony.

"No!" Jinx cried as the man disappeared. She tried to chase after him but Barry grabbed her arm.

"He's not going to make it!" he said, but she yanked her arm from his grip.

"He's immortal you idiot!" she shouted angrily and hurried to the balcony. She looked down but, no surprise, Savage was gone again. "Dammit!" she grasped her hair and turned around to the shock-stricken group staring at her.

"Hey…" Barry meant to approach her calmly but she was too angry to stop and realize.

"I said to stay out of it! I only have a couple chances before they find me and you keep ruining it!" she gritted her teeth and scoured the group until she spotted Kendra. "I'm not messing up again."

Kendra felt this was a warning that encumbered her too and suddenly stepped back. Jinx lowered her arms and straightened up.

"You're the one he calls Chay-Arah...so you're it." Jinx smiled and thrust an arm in the group's way, or so it seemed. Her beams had hit the pillars that were part of the supporting pieces of the ceiling.

"Ah...what's happening…?" Felicity couldn't, and wouldn't, take her eyes off the ceiling.

Jinx was running towards Kendra but Oliver and Thea took aim up again on her. It made it a struggle for Jinx to keep going as she had to constantly battle the arrows threatening her. Barry decided to end it by simply taking Jinx over her victim and pinned her against the back wall.

"Kendra isn't going anywhere with you," he warned her.

"You don't get it, she's the key," Jinx kicked him in the stomach. "It's not like I'm going to hurt her. I just...need you…" she laid dark eyes on Kendra.

"Yo, not happening," Cisco barred the way to his girlfriend.

Jinx laughed mockingly at his defense. She raised a hand, making Felicity panic. She'd figured out Jinx's powers by now.

"Not the ceiling!" cried the blonde.

Jinx rolled her eyes but redirected her hands to the kitchen. Energy beams made fire erupt from the oven and another shot at the walls made pipes burst. Even if they wanted to stop Jinx, the natural disasters prevented them from saving Kendra. Jinx had taken her all too easy in their distress.

~0~

"All right, Lance is gonna call if he gets any information on... whoever they were…" Oliver said after hanging up the phone.

"And the ceiling…?" Felicity hadn't taken her eyes off the ceiling since the fight. It kept grumbling and groaning like it would collapse at any moment.

"Homegirl Jinx lives up to her name," Cisco bitterly kicked the couch from behind.

"New metahuman?" asked Diggle.

"Man, we don't know what she is except she's crazy with bad luck powers!"

Barry put a hand on Cisco's shoulder, understanding he was sick worried over Kendra. "Look, you can call me crazy too but I don't think Jinx is going to hurt Kendra." Cisco turned on Barry with an incredulous expression on his face. "I just meant-" Barry took a precautionary step backwards, "-she clearly wants to get this man as much as we want to and she's made the connection that wherever Kendra is that man will follow."

"You saying she's gonna use Kendra as bait?" Thea raised her eyebrows.

Barry shrugged, knowing that the possibility of Kendra being bait didn't exactly make Cisco feel much better. "It's just…"

"It's exactly what we would do," Oliver spoke up.

Cisco's eyes nearly popped from his head. "What!?"

"And if she's thinking like that then maybe we can reason with her," Oliver continued like Cisco hadn't spoken. "We could get her to help us instead."

"And maybe have her fix our ceiling…" Felicity mumbled.

"Felicity, you think we can find Kendra by pinging her phone?" Barry asked.

"Oh, watch me!"

~0~

Kendra found it was useless trying to pull on the ropes binding her wrists and ankles together. She leaned against the wall where Jinx had put her and frowned at the woman who had kidnapped her. Jinx was sitting on a table, literally, tinkering with the metal wristwatch (as it appeared to Kendra) on her.

'There's a 98% probability Vandal Savage will be around the area, Miss Haynez,' a computerized voice informed her.

"What is that?" Kendra couldn't help be curious of the device.

Jinx looked up with a smirk. "It's a miniature A.l device I knicked off a friend."

"You stole it?"

"Oh, I'm gonna give it back when I'm finished in this time," Jinx put both her hands on her lap. "My friend will probably shout at how irresponsible it was to go through time and blah, blah, blah-" she rolled her eyes, "He always likes to be dramatic."

Kendra's eyebrows knitted together. "Wait, time? You're a…"

"Man, I read all about these metahumans before coming - the Flash, the Azalea, the Arrow, Black Canary? I thought they were super smart enough to figure that out."

"Give them credit," Kendra frowned. "It's not everyday we come across time travelers and immortals."

Jinx laughed. "True."

Kendra studied the woman for real now and came, fairly quick, to the conclusion that whatever Jinx wanted it really had nothing to do with her. She wanted Savage. She was merely the bait.

Jinx hopped off the table and walked towards Kendra. "I need you to wake up or something."

"Wake up…?"

"C'mon, it would be a lot easier to fight Savage knowing you could defend yourself. I don't want liabilities."

"I have no idea what you mean," Kendra pulled her legs closer to her as Jinx neared her.

"I know you have powers, Kendra. And I know there's another of your kind-"

"My kind?" repeated Kendra, now truly confused.

"The male. I don't know where he us but that's okay since Savage seems to want only you right now. But c'mon, sprout the wings, pull the sword out or something."

"Okay I have no��idea what you're talking about!"

Jinx looked mighty frustrated and disappointed with Kendra. "Tell me you're kidding?" Kendra's blank face said it all. "Woman!"

"I'm just a barista!"

"No, you're not! You're like a...I don't know, reincarnation? I honestly didn't read too much on that background. All I know is that you and some other guy die and reincarnate over and over because of Savage. And since you don't even have your powers activated it's gonna be a hell of a lot easier for Savage to get you!" Jinx growled and turned away from Kendra. "I don't have that much time here before they find me…" she rubbed her face and hoped to God something would pop in her mind to help her out.

Meanwhile, Kendra tried to internalize what she'd been told about herself apparently? None of it made sense but it would explain why Savage was so hellbent on killing her. There was a hell to pay that she didn't even know about.

About thirty minutes later, Jinx returned to Kendra and pulled the woman up without saying a word. She pushed Kendra towards the exit of the abandoned room.

"Wh-where are we going?" Kendra tried digging her heels into the ground to stop herself from going.

"Relax, I'm taking you out to the street. I figure maybe your powers will show up if you're under stressor, also known as me."

"Wait, what!?"

Jinx pushed Kendra out and forced the woman to go to the dark street. She left Kendra tried by the wrists and stepped back. "Ready?"

"NO!"

"Yes!" Jinx's excited voice went over Kendra. She swung an arm forwards and her energy beams hit the nearest street pole by Kendra.

"No! Stop!" Kendra cried and jumped backwards just as the pole groaned and fell over. From the force, Kendra fell back.

Jinx clapped a hand to her forehead. "This is seriously not how I imagined things going."

Kendra shot the woman a glare from the ground.

"We're going to need to 'up' the stakes," Jinx theorized, lowering her hand to her chin. "I suppose it's like a self preservation. The bigger the stressor…the more chances of getting those powers…"

"Please…" Kendra scuttled backwards, unable to get up on her own, "...whatever you want from me...it's not going to work…"

"Wouldn't say that," Jinx's eyes raised up to the electricity cables. "Perfect."

Kendra followed the woman's gaze up and felt her blood run cold. "Oh n-n-n-n-no…"

"Sprout those wings, woman!" Jinx raised her hands above her head and was about to shoot at the cables when an arrow struck her by the shoulder and pushed her to the ground. "OW!"

Before she knew it, Barry had sped in front of her and looked down. "If you don't want another arrow, I suggest you listen."

Behind him dropped Oliver who took a threatening aim at Jinx. Jinx's dark eyes flickered between the two and could see past them where Diggle and Thea were helping Kendra up. Suddenly, Barry lowered a hand for her to take, confusing her of course.

"First you shoot me-" Jinx pulled out the arrow embedded on her shoulder like it was nothing and threw it to the side, "-and then you offer help?"

"You haven't been all that straight forwards either," Barry retorted and motioned her again to just take his hand.

Jinx grasped his hand and let him pull her up. She cast a suspicious glance on Oliver who still didn't lower his arrows. "What now? You'll imprison me?" she challenged but scoffed in the end. "Because if I'm being honest, you're gonna have to get in line."

"We just want to talk," Barry reassured but Jinx cleared her throat and nodded her head at Oliver. "Dude…" Barry tried pushing away the arrow Oliver had until eventually Oliver lowered it completely. "Thank you. Look," Barry tried again with Jinx, "we don't understand anything-"

"-clearly," Jinx crossed her arms.

"-but it looks like you do and we have a common enemy so...why don't we help each other out?"

"She tried crushing me with a street pole!" Kendra shouted from across. Now that she was free she frantically motioned to the pole on the ground.

"Hey that was only to get you to sprout those wings!" Jinx snapped. "And it didn't even work!"

"I don't have any wings!" Kendra waved her hands in the air. "I don't have any powers! I keep telling you that!"

"I know you do! You just haven't activated them!"

Kendra stalked towards them but a male figure - flying - in a golden suit with wings suddenly swooped down and took her off the ground. "HELP!" Kendra screamed but no one could possibly do so.

And then, just like that, Oliver took aim against Jinx again. "You have some explaining to do!"

"Oh calm down," Jinx wasn't even looking at him anymore. She raised her wrist that had the watch-like device strapped to it and pulled up several holographic screens.

"What the hell was that?" Thea came running over with Diggle.

"Not a 'what' but a 'he'," a big smile, like the Chestshire cat, was spreading across Jinx's face. "It's the other one! I've hit the jackpot!"

"Explain!" demanded Oliver.

"Sure, just lower the arrows," Jinx ordered. Begrudgingly, Oliver did so but his hand was still wrapped around the bow pretty tightly. "Look, don't worry, she's not in danger, alright? That's probably her reincarnated soulmate."

Everyone winced because Cisco had given a mighty big 'oh hell no' in their ears through the comms.

"What are you talking about?" Barry asked Jinx but the woman kept working on the device. "And what the hell is that?"

"I read about them, alright? There's two of them and Savage will always kill them both! It's obvious the guy has figured his powers out," Jinx sighed. "I should have gone after him instead."

"Whoever he is we need to find him," Diggle said.

"He's not gonna get far once he sees Kendra hasn't activated her powers," Jinx turned her wristwatch off. "I need to go after them before Savage finds them."

"You are not going anywhere," Thea warned her. "We don't even know your name. We're not letting you go anywhere near Kendra."

"If anything, she should be back in the base explaining things," Barry offered, much to Jinx's dismay. "We'll find Kendra and that guy...and we'll bring them back. But you-" he pointed at Jinx, "-need to be committed to cooperate with us. And you're gonna start by telling us everything you know and who you are."

"Fine, but on the other side, I'd like you to guarantee me that Savage dies. It's crucial for me, do you understand?" and in truth there was something in Jinx's eyes indicating this was more than a simple hunt for her. There was something important she was fighting for.

Barry extended a hand forwards. "Deal."

Jinx nodded and shook hands on it.

~ 0 ~

And although the strange man gave quite the chase, Barry and Oliver had managed to bring him down with some tranquilizing arrows. That of course didn't sit well with Jinx when they expressed the idea of chaining the man up.

"He is a key to all this!"

"He kidnapped me!"

"He was just trying to protect you!"

"You know, I don't like you very much," Kendra crossed her arms and glared straight at Jinx.

"You know, liking you has nothing to do with this. You're just a way to get to my goal," Jinx responded and glanced back at the unconscious, chained up, man across them.

"Yo, we trusted you enough to bring you in here," Cisco gestured to the base. "So mind doing your thing about explaining all this? Start with your real name, please?"

Jinx drew in a deep breath as she resigned herself to disclosure. She hadn't planned on revealing anything about herself while in the past, but to be honest she hadn't expected on killing Savage to be such a difficult task in the past.

"Yo? Name?" called Cisco once he felt like they were losing her again.

"Fine," the woman spat. She folded her arms over her chest and sighed. "My name is Graciela Haynez, but I'm also known as Jinx."

"And how are you connected to all this?" Barry then asked since none of them could figure it out yet.

"I'm not connected," Graciela clarified first. "But my life, as well as my entire world, has been affected by that man. Vandal Savage, as you have guessed, is a murderer. And where I'm from, he's a dictator."

"And where are you from again?" Felicity asked from the platform. She was leaning against her desk, refusing to be too close to Jinx for the moment. Jinx looked to the side, apparently reluctant to answer.

"Hey, you promised you would tell us everything," Barry reminded her.

Graciela threw her head back and rubbed her face. "Fine! I'm from the future."

"Okay, can we lock her up now?" Thea sarcastically asked.

"I'm not kidding! I'm from the year 2166 and I came back here to stop Savage before he takes over my city and the whole frikin world!"

But everyone continued to stare at her like she was spilling nothing but lies.

"Fine, you want proof?" Graciela raised her wristwatch and activated it. There were various images displaying a destroyed city and the last one showed Vandal Savage at the head of an army. When Graciela shut the device off, she was subjected to various horrific stares. "There's your proof. That's home sweet home for me."

"Wait," Cisco shook his head as if that would erase everything image he just saw, "You mean to tell me you time traveled back in time to stop Savage from ever becoming dictator? Isn't that like...against rules or something?"

"Oh yeah, but the thing is I don't care," Graciela said like nothing. "I've been fighting a rebellion for as long as I can remember and even though I know people can fight him, that organization has refused to do it. So, I'm doing it. So can we get this moving?"

Barry looked at Oliver to see what he was thinking. As usual, there was nothing describable in Oliver's face except for pensiveness.

"Might I suggest something?" Barry finally asked.

~ 0 ~

It took a lot of explaining, but after things were clear - or at least decently clear - Star City's finest returned to Central City with Barry, along with Graciela, in hopes of coming up with a good, airtight, plan against Savage.

First thing in order was to relocate somewhere remote.

"A bunch of superheroes in a farmhouse?" Thea gave a weird look at the grassy field they arrived at. "I feel like I've seen that in a movie before."

"We need a secure location," Oliver moved around their black van without so much of a glance to their surroundings. All he knew was that there was a decent home and it was far away from the city.

"And what's wrong with STAR Labs?" asked Belén just as she got off the STAR Labs van.

"Well, I mean, absolutely nothing if you forget about the revolving door you guys installed so the bad guys can come and go as they please."

Belén exchanged a look with Caitlin beside her, both offended on behalf of their beloved STAR Labs.

"And remind us again what happened to your old lair?" Caitlin was the one to respond first, but of course Belén had something else to add.

"Or the one before that?"

Oliver glared at both women.

"Well, lair number one was compromised by the police, and…" Felicity trailed off when Olivier's glance switched to her. She cleared her throat and looked down. "I will stop helping."

Oliver decided to stop paying them attention before he would lose it. Instead, he led the group towards the safe house. "Savage only let Barry and I live because he felt Kendra start to emerge as Hawkgirl and went after her. He can sense her and Carter's presence. We don't need to make it easier on him by staying in the city limits."

"Bet you wish you were staying at your mother's place now," Belén mumbled to Laurel since the latter had been staying in Central City anyways.

"Ha!" Laurel practically snorted.

It had been half an hour since the group settled into the house, and only then did Cisco, Barry and Graciela appear.

"Barry, you're late!" Oliver's sharpness had no effect on Barry anymore. He'd come to get used to Oliver's way of being a long time ago. Instead, he learned how to make comebacks.

"Sorry. It turns out, it's not easy finding the ass end of nowhere!"

"Yeah, for real," Cisco pulled out his cellphone and immediately checked for his internet status. "The roaming charges alone are going to bankrupt me."

"...are those my clothes?" Belén raised an eyebrow the moment she spotted Graciela wearing her pink cardigan.

Graciela, in turn, uncomfortably shifted on her feet while flailing her arms. "Yeah, and I hate pink."

"Be a little grateful, won't yah?" snapped Cisco. "We borrowed-"

"-my clothes?" Belén's voice started getting that same sharpness Oliver owned so well, and that was something Barry still had no comeback to.

"Uuuh…" Barry drew it out while he pulled Belén to the side in the meantime the others started gathering with Cisco's cart of inventions.

"Barry, she's wearing my clothes," Belén said quietly though in growing irritation. Her eyes flickered to Graciela who was indeed wearing everything that belonged to her. "I'm all for sharing but I'm not comfortable doing it with someone I don't know and who also attacked my friends multiple times."

"I know that, and I understand, but it's okay now. Graciela's okay. She's on our side," Barry tried to explain quick before she got actually angry. "She's from the future and she didn't have anything and you always have spares at STAR Labs, sooo…."

"Fine," Belén crossed her arms. "But can I at least meet her now? I mean, the only reason I know her name is Graciela is because you just said it right now. Last time we saw each other, she attacked us."

"It's been a busy day," Barry said in his defense.

"Mhm," Belén's hum was almost like a red flag.

It was a good thing Barry wasn't naive to believe it was all due to borrowed clothes. As soon as he'd returned to Central City yesterday, Belén filled him in on what had happened in his absence. She'd been forced to tell her mother that she the Azalea, they had Harry stabilizing back at STAR Labs (under the care of Nina), and of course no one could forget she was going crazy trying to figure more things out about Datura, and the lack of success was getting to her. Her training, while good, still felt like it was mediocre against Datura's and Poison Ivy's.

Borrowed clothes were merely the tip of the iceberg for Belén.

"We need to get rid of Savage's magic stick thing," Oliver couldn't believe he was actually saying those words.

"Yeah, Staff of Horus," Carter corrected but it really didn't matter.

"Well, it's protected by some kind of energy field," Graciela said bitterly. "It's impossible to get to. Believe me, I've tried."

"What about some mittens, then?" Felicity joked for a second until she got the actual idea. "Ooooooh, maybe some insulated gauntlets…"

Caitlin seemed to catch the idea as well since she chimed in, "Oh, yeah, yeah, the magnetic shielding could disrupt the-"

"-the staff's magnetic polarity!" Cisco even had a go and started leading the two women into the hallway.

"Well, while the geek squad works-"

"-heard that, honey!" Felicity called to Oliver, actually making him wince.

"While they work to get the staff away from Savage, we need to know everything there is to know about him." Oliver's eyes landed on Graciela and Kendra, but the latter seemed pretty uncomfortable to say anything.

"What's to know about him is that he's evil, manipulative, and powerful," Graciela listed off her fingers before shrugging. "That's about it, really."

"He's been around for 4,000 years - he should have a trail or something."

"You're from the future, right?" Belén moved closer to the group. "You obviously know more about him than we will ever know right now."

"I mean…" Graciela seemed like there was a lot she wanted to say but failed to come up with a way to say it. She dragged a hand through her short curls and sighed. "You have to understand that where I come from, he's already won. He's the dictator. He's all powerful and there's no way of stopping him because those two-" she jerked a thumb at Kendra and Carter, "-are dead. I don't know everything about Savage. I just know that in the 21st century he comes across metahumans that almost stop him."

"So what was your plan, then? When you first thought of coming here?" Barry wondered since her first appearance seemed a hellbent on killing.

"To be honest, I don't know," Graciela crossed her arms, looking rather guilty about her confession. "I'm impulsive and I…" she once again paused to gather her words, "...I read in the history files that when Savage goes up against the Arrow, the Flash, the Azalea, Black Canary...his weapons are his downfall. I thought maybe if I showed up and take the weapons I might have a chance of fixing my future."

"Okay, how about I check with A.R.G.U.S., see if they have anything on him?" Diggle offered since it was clear they had nothing.

"That sounds great," Laurel nodded her head. "And Thea and I can check police reports and stuff like that."

"It's not gonna matter," Graciela called to the trio who were moving to start on their tasks.

"We're going to do our best," Thea offered one sour smile before following Laurel.

"And Kendra," Oliver turned his attention to Kendra, the sudden gaze making the woman stiffen. "We need to find a way to utilize your new ability."

She blinked until it hit her of what he meant. "My ability?" Of course he meant her 'ability', because she now had abilities. Because she wasn't normal. She was...she was some...

"It might give us an advantage," Oliver's voice pulled Kendra out from her thoughts.

Barry cleared his throat as he moved on around the group. "Yeah, whatever you do, don't let him train you." At that, Oliver gave him a look, but Barry was full on straightforward with his words. "I'm sorry, but when it rains, I can still feel where you shot me with those arrows."

"He's not that bad," Belén spoke up on Oliver's behalf, though it earned her an offended glance from Barry. "What? You were being smug and you got shot with arrows. What did you say to me before running?" She pretended to think about it before mocking him, 'And give Bells a show'."

Barry nearly glared at her for bringing that one up. Okay, so he might have been a little over the top then but he didn't deserve to be shot with arrows.

"It's okay," Carter stepped forwards, hands held up, "I'll handle her training, then."

Kendra kept her mouth shut because the moment someone asked her directly whether or not she wanted to 'train' she'd say an automatic 'no'. Instead, she watched Carter leave the house for something in the van, no doubt that big chest box he'd carried with them.

~ 0 ~

"Where are you going?" Belén's question stopped Barry just as he was about to take off from the front porch.

"Well…" Barry prepared himself for what he knew would be a difficult explanation, "...I got a call...from, um...one of Oliver's…" he paused for a significant long time, making Belén rather impatient for she thought this would be him coming up with an excuse, "...frenemies."

"Which one?"

"Don't know...Merlyn?"

"You got a call from Merlyn?" Belén's tone of voice indicated she knew exactly who that was. Barry then remembered she and Laurel were completely close. "What the hell does he want!?"

"To talk to me and Oliver, I guess." Barry admitted to himself he didn't like the idea of meeting up with that type of man, but since Oliver was on his way too he had no choice but to go as well.

"Just you two? That's a bit rude," Belén folded her arms and deeply frowned. "And I'm sugarcoating it. You do realize this whole Savage thing involves a lot of people. Whatever he's going to say to you and Oliver, make sure you repeat it to us later, got it?"

"Got it," Barry dutifully said, even saluting for show. Once he saw a small smile trying to creep across her face, he knew she wasn't that upset.

"Just be careful, alright? I'll hold down the fort here," she said and looked to the side. She could see Kendra and Carter on the field, presumably training. "Though to be honest I think we might end up killing each other before Savage gets to us. Reincarnation, immortality and time travelers?"

Barry snorted with a laugh. "Yeah. This one's out of our terrain. But listen, Graciela? She knows a lot more than she's giving on. Maybe you can get her to talk more."

"Me?" Belén pointed at herself, relatively confused since she'd barely crossed a word with the time traveler. "But I haven't even met her. It's not like she's a big talker."

"Try to look at it from her perspective," Barry attempted to go through a different tactic. He stepped closer to Belén and lowered his voice in case anyone was nearby. "To her, this is a lost battle. It's like she said, she's already lost so this is technically one of her last options. And who knows what she left behind in the future. She could be fighting for something we don't know about. Someone maybe."

"I hate when you make sense," Belén sighed and ignored his smirk.

"Just try it. If there's anyone with a sweet voice it's you!" he swooped down and kissed her cheek.

"I'm gonna do it, you don't need to keep kissing up," she playfully rolled her eyes and pushed him away.

"K, gotta go!" Barry waved before rushing off.

Belén drew in a deep breath and prepared herself to go find that...unique...time traveler.

She moved back into the house in search of Graciela, but only found the three scientists working hard on those gauntlets-to-be, and then saw the other trio looking for traces of Savage. It led her to go back to the fields where Carter and Kendra were still going hard on that training, which looked rather frustrating for Kendra judging by those growls. Eventually, Belén spotted Graciela sitting on a rock just outside the shed. The closer Belén got, the better she could see Graciela was talking to something around her wrist.

"Show me London again," Graciela was instructing and suddenly a baby blue hologram flickered to life above the watch on her wrist.

It was not a pretty sight.

"Time hasn't changed," Graciela said with full disappointment. However, as soon as she saw Belén coming towards her, she pushed that disappointment to the back of her mind and turned the hologram off. She awkwardly cleared her throat and crossed her arms, effectively covering the watch.

"Hi," Belén was in the same awkward boat. "Um...I'm Belén, just in case you didn't get it before." Graciela gave a slight nod, but nothing more. Belén cleared her throat and came a little closer. "Were you talking to someone? Did I interrupt a conversation?"

Graciela shook her head. "Nah. People I talk to are a little bit busy right now...fighting…or dead..."

Belén raised her eyebrows, unsure of what to say to that. It looked like Graciela understood and decided to be nice and further explain the situation.

"I'm part of a rebellious group against Savage in my time….and even if I wanted to talk with any of my partners...they don't have this," Graciela revealed the futuristic watch on her wrist and gave it a gentle tap on its silver surface. "It's not even mine, to be honest."

"What do you mean by that?" Belén eyed the watch with a little more focus than before and saw it had some writing on the surface, but she couldn't make it out.

"It's my friend's - well, don't know if he qualifies me as a friend anymore. Either way, once he realizes I stole the watch from him he'll end up hating me even more, if that's possible. Unlike me, he's...proper," Graciela rolled her eyes. "He's part of this elite Time group and, to be frank, it's stupid. They know exactly what's happening to our world and they're not doing anything about it. And since my friend is too tied up in their rules to break anything...I did it." And even as Graciela retold the story, she didn't sound one bit regretful. "I have two friends in that stupid organization so I just waited for my moment to steal one of their watches. I needed to stop Savage."

Belén could see the struggle in Graciela's eyes to truly accept the consequences of her action. Graciela didn't regret it, but it didn't mean she was ready for what came next. "So it was worth it, then?"

Graciela's shrug was so little it barely looked like one. "I mean, I'm checking the future and everything is still the same, so...maybe it wasn't. I don't know." She shook her head and took a moment to calm herself by staring hard at the ground. She couldn't afford to feel doubtful, and much less to be ridiculous and cry. It was the journey she decided she would make for the sake of the world, despite what was coming for her.

"Are you-" Belén was just about to reach for Graciela's shoulder when the latter raised her head.

"Anyways," Graciela sniffed and rose from the ground with a whole new expression she was trying to make casual, "Sorry about your cardigan." She once again folded her arms and grazed the soft pink fabric of the cardigan. "Barry just offered them and I…"

"It's fine," Belén raised a hand to stop the woman. "I'm not that type of girl, trust me. Besides, you look good in pink."

"I don't like pink," Graciela bluntly reiterated.

"Right…" Belén looked away for a moment, and just in time to see Kendra falling flat on her back after a failed attempt to punch Carter. She scrunched her face, feeling the ghost of that pain from her own training. "That had to hurt."

Graciela followed Belén's gaze to Kendra and sighed. She walked a few steps towards the scene and watched it go on again. "If she keeps that up, we'll never take Savage down."

"She just discovered she's not really who she thought she was," reminded Belén. "That can't be easy to manage."

"We all have baggage," Graciela said too matter-of-factly to be genuine. "And we have to get over it in order to succeed. In order to live. Savage will use any weakness to kill. He's done it before."

"What do you know about him? For real?"

Graciela turned sideways to see Belén expectantly waiting for an answer. "That he's been here for a good while. He's helped build empires and he's watched them fall. All these centuries he's been calculating and he's struck whenever it was most convenient for him. He has an immense power that...only they-" she pointed back to Kendra and Carter, "-can take down."

"But why?" Belén wanted to know so badly.

"Because they're locked in a never ending cycle of life and death. I know you guys aren't big believers on magic, but it does exist. I would know," Graciela's eyes flickered a purple that made Belén take a step back. "I'm part of their world."

"You're definitely not a metahuman…"

"No. I'm something else, but…" Graciela shook her head, deciding it wasn't worth it. "It doesn't matter what I am. What matters is how we take Savage down. I don't exactly have all the time in the world. And to be honest, with every passing second I'm a little less faithful in those two over there."

"We just gotta give them some time," Belén's optimism wasn't met with much agreement.

"As much as it pains me to admit out loud, I'm going to need all of you," Graciela made a move to leave. Where she was going, exactly, she didn't know.

Belén turned after her, choosing to follow her. "Well I don't know how much help I'll be to be honest. I'm sort of struggling to hone in on my powers." That admission made Graciela abruptly stop. She turned sideways to give Belén a strange look.

"What? You don't have powers?"

"No - I…" Belén sighed, bringing a hand to her head, "I do have powers and I use them fairly well I should say."

"Then what's the problem?"

"That I'm weak. I've been dealing with a metahuman who's like me but not me. She's a siphoner and no matter how much I train, she still kicks my ass."

Graciela seemed to be confused judging by the scrunch of her face. "You're the Azalea. You're a botanical metahuman. Why don't you just go to the Green for help?"

Now it was Belén's turn to be confused. "The what?"

"The Green," Graciela shrugged. "That one place where botanical metahumans gather?"

Belén drew a blank on her words. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"This is why time traveling isn't allowed I guess," Graciela mumbled. "But screw it. The Green is famous for being the place where all botanical metahumans can meet and train, and converse."

Belén tilted her head while she thought about this place. "It's...it's kind of like the Speedforce with Barry. Like the place where your powers originate from. But how do you know about this place?"

"I read about it in the files," shrugged Graciela. "There's an article that, um..." she blinked then gave Belén a certain kind of look, "...you wrote, actually. It talked all about the Green."

"I wrote it?" Belén tried to wrap her mind around that one and considered it very unlikely due to the fact she didn't even know what that place was.

"Yeah, in the future."

"Well how do I get there?"

Graciela looked at Belén as if she were crazy. "I don't know. I'm not a botanical metahuman but you are so...figure it out." She have another shrug and turned to walk away like nothing, never seeing Belén's face.

~ 0 ~

It honestly was not that surprising that Merlyn had arranged a meeting with Savage to figure out what he wanted.

"What do you want?" Merlyn led the meet and hoped to God that Oliver and Barry would keep their idiotic mouths shut for once.

"What all living things want- not to die," Savage answered in well-mannered tone. For now, this was merely a conversation.

"I thought that wasn't a problem for you," Oliver said.

"Only if I take the lifeforce from Prince Khufu and Priestess Chay-Ara. The three of us are locked in a vicious circle played out over thousands of years. None of your concern."

"We've made it our concern," Oliver all but snapped and shot one of his arrows directly at Savage.

Savage, however, took the arrow to the chest like a scratch and pulled out the arrow like nothing. "Robin of Locksley. I taught him how to use a bow. He taught me how to not feel pain. I'm the enemy you can't defeat. The only way for you and yours to live through this is to render onto me what is mine. Turn over Prince Khufu and Princess Chay-Ara within 24 hours, or I will lay waste to this city, killing everyone that you hold dear. And after that, I will travel to your home-" he directed a finger to Oliver, "-and do the same thing there."

"All right, I'm just curious- did you rehearse that speech in a mirror this morning, or this all just off the cuff?" Barry was slightly afraid, but it wasn't something he would say out loud.

"Why would you risk the lives of your friends and family for two strangers? 206 times I have killed them. What hubris possesses you that makes you think that you can prevent me from doing so again?" Savage paused his streak of questions to mock them with a laugh. "Oh, let me guess, the little time traveler? I certainly hope she's not your weapon because she will fail. I came to this meeting out of curiosity. It is now sated. Bring Khufu and Chay-Ara to Jurgens Industrial in 24 hours or I will see you dead and buried under the bodies of your loved ones."

He didn't even bother giving them a chance to respond. He was certain of himself and their choice anyways.

~0~

"We have 24 hours," Oliver started off exactly like that, without a readable expression. Everyone in the living room seemed lost.

"Until what exactly?" Kendra asked after a couple minutes of silence.

"Until we are supposed to hand you and Carter over to Savage, or-"

Carter all but rolled his eyes. He'd heard this so many times already. "Savage lays waste to Central City. Yeah. We've been through this before. 1887, the Huang He floods, Savage killed nearly two million people to get to us. And he did."

Though the revelation was huge, Plover didn't let it stop them. "We weren't helping you then. We are now. We have 24 hours to come up with a workable plan."

And no matter how much they discussed, it didn't make sense to Kendra. Eventually, she snapped. "No, this is insane! My life isn't worth millions of people's lives! You can all just stop!"

"Kendra!" Carter called as the woman stormed off.

"I'll talk to her," Cisco volunteered but Carter shooed him off. "Hey, I got this-"

Carter once again stopped him but this time with a mere look. "I said, I'll talk to her."

Cisco glared after the man then sourly said, "Hey, here's an idea- why don't we just toss him over to Vandal Savage?"

"Cisco," Caitlin disapprovingly said.

"Fine!"

~ 0~

"Hey," Belén called to Barry - who was inside the shed - but unintentionally startled him. He paused in what seemed to be a back and forth pace. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I was just wondering where you were since-"

But before she could finish, Cisco pushed past her in a dramatic manner. "-you basically missed the whole, save the city or turn my girlfriend over to an immortal psychopath briefing!"

Belén glared at Cisco's back but rolled her eyes in the end. She'd let it pass since what he said was indeed true.

"Um...sorry…?" Barry said in a questionable manner that forced Cisco to stop his complaining, and even the screwdriver he was about to throw in anger.

"Okay, what's wrong with you?" Cisco put the screwdriver down on the table.

"Seriously," Belén took full notice of Barry's nervous demeanor. He had his twitching fingers fiddling with each other when he wasn't putting his arms behind his neck...or his hands in his hair. "Can you stay still for a second?"

Barry dropped his arms when he realized what she meant. He'd been doing his best to keep it at bay, but the more he thought about it the more difficult it was to keep it a secret. "I...I don't really know how to say it…"

"Just say it, maybe?" suggested Cisco, earning himself a momentary look of sarcasm from Barry.

"Fine. Um...earlier when I was on my way to meet with Merlyn and Oliver...I ghosted."

"No…" Cisco immediately went, while Belén tried to understand on the first go.

"Yeah, I think I'm going-"

"-don't say it," Cisco wagged a finger at Barry, not that it mattered since Barry went ahead and said it out loud.

"I think I'm going to time jump."

"I just told you not to say it!"

"Cisco!" Belén exclaimed at the man in out rage while Barry apologized.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else I'm supposed to do!"

"Barry, you're fine, trust me," Belén said first, hoping to ease his guilt but Cisco had something else to say.

"The first rule of time travel is you don't talk about time travel!"

"Cisco!" Belén covered her face in frustration.

"Because by having this conversation, we're screwing history!"

"Cisco! What was he supposed to do? Keep it bottled up?" Belén gestured to Barry's already nervous state. "One more day and he might fall apart."

Barry wanted to argue in his defense, but it'd really only been a few hours and it was already killing him. "Look, I know that time travel has consequences. I mean, the last time you vibed-"

"-well, I'm not vibing anything right now," Cisco said, calmer than before. "Okay, um, all right, look, don't panic. A: you don't know that you time jumped for a bad reason. It could have been a good one, right?" Barry dutifully nodded, really hoping Cisco was right. "B: now that you know you time jumped, you might not do it, right? So knowing the future might change the present, which might change the future."

"My head hurts," Belén rubbed the side of her head, eyes flickering between Cisco and Barry. "How could anyone be attracted to either of you?"

Barry's and Cisco's looks of pure offence were rather amusing for Belén...not that she'd tell them.

"I'm gonna remember that one," Barry decided to warn, but Belén smirked in return.

"What are you going to do? Stop kissing me? Go ahead, we'll see who suffers more," she winked and turned to leave.

She purposely moved away from shed and even the house altogether. Once she felt like she was truly alone, she pulled out her phone and dialed.

"Belén, hello?" Iris' voice soon answered the call.

"Iris, hey! How are things at STAR Labs?"

"Don't worry, Nina and I are holding down the fort," Iris proudly said. Belén could even picture her friend smiling from ear to ear. "How are you guys doing with Savage and that time traveler?"

"Uuh...things could be better," Belén admitted. She brought a finger to scratch behind her ear. "Listen...I wanted to ask a favor."

"Sure thing! What do you guys need?"

"Well, it's not so much of a group necessity as it is...a necessity for me," Belén hated to admit right now when it was such a time for teamwork.

"Oh, okay, what is it?"

"I...I...I just recently learned that I can maybe meet with other metas who are like me...in another world."

"Really? How so?"

"I see it like Barry and the Speedforce. It's called the Green, and if I can access that world then I can maybe get a further understanding of my powers."

"That sounds cool! How do you access it!?"

"That's the thing. On my own, I'm not sure. I thought maybe if I found another botanical metahuman they could help me. And that's why I'm calling you."

"Okay, what do you need from me?"

Belén looked around as if someone was watching her. She didn't mean for it to be a secret, but right now it wasn't the right time to tell the others. They needed to focus on Savage. "Can you maybe start a research on any other botanical metahumans nearby? Other than Datura and Poison Ivy, of course."

"Of course," Iris repeated, both sharing a laugh afterwards. "I can definitely look into it. Just because we haven't heard about another botanical metahuman doesn't mean they're not out there."

"That's what I'm counting on," Belén sighed. "Because right now I need all the help I can get and this might be huge"

"I'll do my best, don't worry!" Iris promised.

Belén hoped there would be some light down that dark path Datura was leading her. Hopefully, it started with this...with another botanical metahuman.

~ 0 ~

"What do you guys have?" Graciela expectantly asked of Laurel, Thea and Diggle as soon as the trio returned from their unannounced trip.

"Has a simple 'hello' died in the future?" Thea joked, but Graciela looked unamused.

"Yes, that tends to happen when there's a dictator massacring people."

"Could've just said yes," Thea mumbled and moved away.

"We have something that might help us," Laurel pointed to Diggle who raised an old VCR tape.

Graciela looked lost. "What the hell is that?"

"Aw, I didn't know those still existed," Belén remarked as soon as she came in and saw said tape.

"Lyla hooked us up," Diggle explained. Of course ARGUS would hold onto something like that.

"Where's Felicity?" Laurel looked around for the missing blonde.

"Don't know," shrugged Belén. "Just like I don't know where Barry and Oliver are. You know when those two get together, their secret outings get annoying."

"Sounds more like Oliver's doing than Barry," Laurel said. "And you're right, it does get annoying."

"Well we don't need Felicity to play a tape," Thea motioned Diggle to come over to Felicity's laptop. "We'll just hook it up."

"I'll go get the others," Belén said and hurried to go find them. By the time she returned with the whole group, sans the three missing, Thea had successfully gotten the tape to display on the TV.

"The tape came from a conspiracy theory group that's interested in Savage," Diggle explained just before the tape would play. "Pentagon had a file on Savage back in '86, but it's all been heavily redacted."

Thea pressed the play option and soon a dark-skinned man appeared on the screen.

'My name is Dr. Aldus Boardman. I'm a professor at St. Roch University. The date is April 8th, 1975. I don't think anyone else knows this, and those that do, don't believe. He's a myth. An urban legend. He has been compared to Machiavelli and Nostradamus. He's gone by many names, but I know him as Vandal Savage, and he will be the death of the world. But I believe there is a way to stop him. Savage is an immortal, Egyptian priest. His long life is a result of an unearthly calamity. I believe that any object associated with this calamity should be able to undo its effects and kill him. And I suspect that our precious, fragile world may one day depend upon us doing so.'

Thea promptly turned the screen off and looked directly at Kendra and Carter. "Do you have any idea what he meant by these objects? This calamity?"

The two in question exchanged mutual confused looks.

"No, I-I don't recall a calamity," Carter answered first. "And the staff…"

"Staff of Horus?" Graciela chimed in. "That staff belonged to Savage back in ancient Egypt."

"How are you sure?" Diggle asked.

"Because I'm from the future and I read a lot?"

Kendra looked down at her feet when a couple images started playing in her mind. Though they were fast, and partly incoherent, she saw that golden staff in Savage's possession. Graciela was right. But she didn't want to admit she was remembering.

Luckily, Graciela always had good self confidence. She knew exactly what she was talking about. "That staff is key to killing Savage. We need to get it."

"Great, let's get it, then," Carter nodded and led the way.

It was dark when Barry, Felicity and Oliver returned to the safe house, though each at a different time. Oliver was the last and the moment he set foot in the field, Felicity caught him. Barry spotted them through a window and wondered what the hell was going on with those two, because one moment Oliver had him doing secret DNA tests and the next thing he knew Felicity was on his case for helping Oliver.

"What are you doing?" a voice startled Barry, making him knock his forehead against the glass. He quickly pulled away before Felicity or Oliver saw and turned around to see Belén standing there.

"What?" he rubbed his forehead.

"You have been secretive today and I feel like a babysitter," Belén stated plainly, thinking it was enough to make him cautious with his response.

"I...I honestly couldn't tell you what was going on because I don't know what's going on," Barry went with the honest truth. He was not going to get in trouble over something he had no part in.

Belén could more or less deduced he was being honest because he did look rather weary. She moved around him and peered out the window to see Felicity and Oliver presumably arguing. "Oh no. That's not good. Especially when we're about to fight an immortal man. What are they fighting about?"

"I don't know. Should we go out there-"

"-oh no," Belén whirled around, as if to catch him before he got the idea to go. "We are not getting anywhere near that fight. Our mission right now is to make sure Kendra and Carter are ready. Besides, it's a couple fight and...they're not really asking for opinions, are they?"

Barry gave a shrug. She was right. Oliver had been really secretive with that DNA test, making him swear to keep it from Felicity (which he failed but that's not the point). "Fine."

A couple minutes later, Oliver and Felicity came into the house but made beelines away from each other. One could only deduce that the argument did not end in good terms.

"We're coming up on Savage's deadline," Oliver took control of the group the moment he could. "Are the gauntlets working?"

"They have to be, we're out of time," Caitlin said after checking the clock in the living room.

"But I think they'll work," Cisco said in hopes of adding positivity to the mission. "That staff's going to go from "can't touch this" to "invisible touch."

"Savage doesn't know Kendra has access to her full abilities, which makes you our ace in the hole," Oliver's intense gaze on her made Kendra feel even worse. She felt nowhere near ready to fight, but there wasn't much of an option now was there?

"Okay," she nodded quietly.

"We're going to put you up against Savage; you attack with the element of surprise. I will lay down the cover fire. Barry, you speed in, and-"

"-snatch the staff, I got it," Barry said.

"So where do you need us?" asked Diggle.

"This is me, Barry, Kendra and Carter. We've got it."

There were various reactions from the group, but all seem to fall in a mutual disagreement.

"You can't sit us out," Belén frowned.

"No, we're not risking any more lives tonight than we have to," Oliver's tone hardened even more.

"I don't know how you run in the past, but I'm not following it," Graciela stepped forwards. "You can sit the rest out but I'm not doing it."

"It's not up for debate-"

Graciela's eyes flashed an angry purple, making the pipes of the house creak. Everyone around her, more so Felicity and Cisco, looked up in fear. "-you're right, it's not, cos I'm going."

Oliver stared her down but he had come to his match because she was not wavering. She knew exactly how these things went and she had enough practice as a crook to have her own strength.

"Let's go!" Graciela shouted to the others, choosing not to waste any more time.

However, even though she was on board the others were still more cautious.

"I think we can stay as backup," Belén was the one to say to Barry in the end. "I mean, I'd love to be there up front but...Savage might not realize it."

"Just don't tell that to Oliver," Barry muttered, watching Oliver head out the house. "He's out of it."

"Yeah, I really wish I knew what they fought about," Belén crossed her arms. "But look, right now we just gotta focus on Savage. Be careful, alright?"

Barry nodded. "You too."

"I've got the Black Canary on my side. I'll be good," Belén smiled cheerily. She leaned up and kissed his cheek, sending him on his way.

~ 0 ~

Savage was waiting in the warehouse just like he said he would. A sinister grin spread across his face when he spotted Oliver and Barry bringing in Kendra and Carter, the two wearing their suits as well.

"You brought them. And dressed for the occasion, I see," Savage moved forwards.

"We're only doing this because two lives aren't worth two cities," Oliver said.

"Well, in that case, you are wiser than I gave you credit for." Savage took a moment to look Kendra and Carter over, scoffing a minute later. "It's been a lifetime. Still wearing those ridiculous outfits, I see." He raised a finger to Oliver and Barry. "You don't need to be here for this. The culling has a tendency to be…" He paused as he drew a sharpened knife from his coat's inside pocket, "...unsightly." He turned the knife over for show, making sure both Kendra and Carter got a good look at what was coming. "Your new friends betrayed you."

"Just do what you're going to do," Carter snapped.

Savage smiled at Kendra, practically ignoring Carter. "It's wonderful to see you again, my love."

Kendra felt true disgust at the man. "I will never be your love."

"I know. That always makes this...easier. Chay-Ara, parting is such sweet sorrow." Savage raised the knife and offered Kendra one last smile before drawing it down.

"Now, Kendra!" Oliver screamed.

Kendra delivered a hard kick to Savage's stomach, knocking the man to the ground. She opened her arms, ready to become that weird warrior she was destined to be...but nothing came out. Graciela dropped in from the ceiling and shot a beam of purple energy to keep Savage down while Oliver prepared the gauntlets.

"LET'S GO!" she shouted.

Carter swiped the staff from Savage and tossed it over to Barry who, in turn, handed it to Oliver so that the gauntlets could make contact. A powerful blast erupted from the gauntlets immediately. It made Oliver stumble back but he kept his balance in the end. However, with all the energy hitting him, Savage was still able to get on his feet.

"Crap!" Graciela said just before Savage knocked her to the side with his own magic. Her body tumbled across the warehouse, only picking her head up in time to see him grab Carter's neck and stab him on the back.

Barry started speeding in a circle to create quick thunder, but Savage caught him midway with another blast. The speedster crashed into a set of metal machinery. Like Graciela, he looked up in time to watch Savage stab Kendra on the chest in one swift move.

"No! It's not working!" Graciela scrambled to get on her feet. Her eyes were a dark, almost demonic purple, as she made a run at Savage. The metal around her groaned as its properties were being forced to change at her will.

"Graciela!" Barry called, but at the same time the metal behind him pushed forwards. He barely escaped as it took Savage's body for a ride until Savage destroyed it with a hand movement. "What the hell…" Barry was truly tired of this magic business because he had no idea how to combat it.

He heard Oliver's groans and turned to see him still holding onto the staff and the gauntlets. "Oh God." His eyes widened because Oliver was starting to resemble an old man. The gauntlets and the staff combined seemed to be drawing Oliver's life source. "Oliver, let go!" he panicked when he was able to see bone.

"Barry? What's going on?" Belén's voice came through the ear pods.

"Oliver?" Laurel came in next. "We're coming in!"

"No! Don't!" Barry sped up beside Oliver. "Kendra and Carter are dead!"

"We're coming in!" Belén and Laurel said in unison.

"Please don't-" Barry couldn't finish on account of Graciela crashing into him.

Savage stretched an arm out for Oliver, but only attained his staff again. At the same time, both Belén and Laurel came running in to help.

"This isn't going to end well!" Graciela picked herself off Barry and looked back at Savage. "I know about this - Barry you have to time travel!" she said in quick whir, almost making Barry miss it.

"I have to what-"

"-A DO OVER! GO!" Graciela's scream came just as Savage plunged his staff into the ground, causing an eruption of bright blue energy. It wiped out everything around it, and before Barry knew what he was doing, he ran.

He didn't know what the hell was going on except that everything around him was being burned to death. His first thought went to Belén and the others. They'redeadthey'redeadthey'read.

But Graciela's last words came to mind: a do over. Time travel.

And that's when he remembered the 'ghosting'. All his previous fears of time traveling and causing a disturbance in the time lines went to hell. He needed to push himself or everything would be dead.

Runrunrunrunrunrunrunrun. Barry went as fast as he could. The blue eradication behind him nearly caught him a few times but he was going to do it. Everything around him became a blue, but only for a few seconds did he see the 'ghost' of his past self running beside him. It disappeared within seconds...and as did the blurry world.

Barry came to a skidded stop in the same place Malcolm Merlyn wanted to meet.

"Thank you for coming…" he heard Oliver's voice, though it still sounded a bit garbled after all the running Barry did.

But once Barry saw the day was still early...he released a heavy breath.

A do over.

~ 0 ~

"What the hell is the Green?" Belén called out to Graciela after their odd conversation. She should've known talking to a future girl was not going to end well, but here she was doing what she could to help out. She turned in the opposite direction Graciela walked off to and started making her own way. She only stopped when she saw Oliver and Barry returning to the safe house after their meet up with Merlyn. "They're back!" she called to Kendra and Carter, forcing the two to stop their training (which, by the sounds of it, was not going well). She sprinted to get there first, and perhaps it was a good thing because Barry was not intending on keeping his time travel a secret. "Hey! What did Merlyn say?"

"Belén!" Barry forgot for a moment what he'd told Oliver and rushed to Belén. She was not expecting such a tight, needy hug but she would always accept one.

"Okay, what's wrong?" she patted his back and looked over his shoulder to Oliver. He had a face as well, like he was processing something.

"He time traveled," Oliver was the one to answer.

Belén's eyes widened in alarm, but even if she wanted to pull away from Barry to look at him...Barry wasn't budging. He pressed a kiss to her hair and held her tight. "Barry, you did what?" she pressed her hands against his chest to pull away. "Barry!"

With a groan, he finally let her go the amount she needed to see him face to face. "Yeah…"

"You're not supposed to do that…"

"Well, Graciela did it-"

"-yeah, and she's probably going to get into trouble. Believe me, I just learned she stole the time travelling watch on her wrist. Why'd you time travel?"

Barry lowered his arms to his sides and turned sideways so that he could talk to both her and Oliver. "We were fighting Savage but things didn't go so well. Everyone died...including you two."

"Oh…" Belén now understood his needy hug and felt the urge to hug him again.

"Graciela was the one to tell me to time travel and...I did," Barry rubbed the back of his neck. "She said she knew what was coming."

"She's from the future, of course she knew that," Oliver sighed.

"Look, what we were doing to fight Savage wasn't working. The gauntlets didn't work and Kendra couldn't access her powers. Savage killed them both and used his staff to create the explosion that killed everything."

"Okay, okay, we can work with this," Belén nodded, choosing to forget the death part right away. It technically didn't happen and she was just going think about that. "It's like when you discovered you went back in time to your mom. We use this as a study guide. We fix our mistakes."

"Right," Barry agreed and turned specifically to Oliver. "That means you, for starters."

"Me?" frowned the man in question.

"When we go up against Savage, your head's not in the game. You're not yourself. And I'm sorry to say this in front of Belén because I don't know if you were planning on telling anyone about it, but...I know you're going to ask me run a DNA test."

Oliver stiffened, ignoring Belén's strange look.

"That said test is going to cause you and Felicity to get into a huge fight. That fight sounded like it was over between you two."

"So when we go up against Savage, I'm not focused," Oliver concluded on his own. "I don't use everything we've got."

"What are we going to about the Kendra not being able to use her powers?" Belén quietly asked. "And the gauntlets?"

"I'll work on that," Oliver muttered, quietly thanking Barry for his knowledge of the future and walking off.

"Someone should tell Graciela," Belén said once they were alone. "She's already time traveled once, who knows what this might mean."

"That we failed?" Barry started for the house, rather glum now that he had time to settle. "She knew exactly what was going to happen when Savage took his staff, so this must have happened before."

"Which is exactly why we need to discuss with her. Maybe she has some pointers too," Belén picked up her pace and beat him to the front door, blocking his way in. "Let's make sure we don't make the same mistakes again."

"I won't," Barry promised her. A warm smile came to her face knowing what he meant. "I had to run and when I did...you were already dead…"

"Not happening again," she leaned forwards and gently kissed his lips. "Now let's do this...again…"

~ 0 ~

With the knowledge of their failed attempt to win Savage, the group worked harder than the first time. Cisco and Caitlin triple checked those gauntlets, and would have gone for a fourth had Oliver not convinced Cisco to try his hand at helping Kendra access her powers. The only one who seemed to be having trouble with the news, more than the others anyways, was Graciela.

"I mean, we'll get him this time," Barry attempted to ease her doubts before they gathered for another brief. Well, it was really more of a group effort with him, Oliver and Belén.

Graciela shook her head, looking far more concerned but it was pertaining to the fight against Savage. "You don't get it. You time traveled in the same period I did. That means they felt it."

"They? Who's they?" Oliver asked.

Graciela seemed reluctant to speak freely, but then again her options weren't so good anyways. She drew in a breath and leaned against the dining table. "The people I stole the watch from. They're Time Masters and...they have eyes all over the timeline. I knew that time travelling here would get me into some trouble, but I figured I'd have more time to finish things...but Barry time travelling in the same period I did, so close to the date I first arrived...they're coming for me, quicker now."

"Then we'll stop them," Belén said matter-of-factly, but Graciela shook her head.

"No, we're focusing on Savage. I want him dead by tonight."

"But if you're head's not in the right place, we won't be able to do that," Barry said, knowing exactly where he spoke from.

"I know," Graciela agreed. She took in a deep breath and used it to relax herself as much as she could. "I read about Savage's staff in the future. There were rumors that the timeline had been rewritten several times because he did the same trick. The Time Masters...they're very good when they want to be. They've restored the timeline, but...we can't let Savage do that again. For the sake of my home, and yours, he needs to die tonight."

"And I think I know how to make that happen," Kendra strode into the house with a new sense of confidence. Cisco seemed pretty happy as well, indicating his talk with her had gone well.

"I'm all ears," Graciela leaned off the table.

Kendra made sure the rest of the group were in the room so that she could explain herself. "I remembered how Savage killed us the first time back in Egypt. These sky rocks-meteors- they fell and they completely destroyed the royal palace."

"During the Middle Kingdom, Egypt experienced a high level of meteorite activity," Felicity recalled from her vast knowledge.

"That can be the calamity Professor Boardman was referencing in the tape," Caitlin realized quick.

"It makes sense," Kendra agreed. "The meteors, they had a glow about them. And Savage's staff had two gemstones with the exact same glow."

"So the gemstones might be made up of the same element as the meteorite," Barry made the connection as well. "That could be why the gauntlets didn't work the first time."

"Yeah, the gemstones might be made up of the same element as the meteorite. The Egyptians would use meteorite in their craftsmanship. And the minerals glow in proximity to each other," Cisco suddenly grinned when he got to add, "Like Sankara Stones."

"Oh, wait, the Indiana Jones reference is the only thing I understood," Thea looked to someone for help.

"Two pieces of the same meteorite, that is the key to counteracting the staff," Belén was proud to say that she understood.

Laurel got on her laptop fast when she remembered something about meteorites from their previous research on Egypt and Savage. "Look, there's there's a sample of the meteorite from the Middle Kingdom at the Keystone City Museum of Natural…"

But Barry took off without another word, leaving a wind trail behind him. He returned two seconds later with the meteorite in hand. "Got it!"

Cisco snatched it from his hand, gingerly holding it while he examined it. "I could synthesize the compatible isotope out of this and coat the gauntlets with it."

"That I did not understand," Belén mumbled to Thea who agreed with a hum.

"This can work," Graciela said with a newfound confidence. It was good because she knew by this time she was reaching high on the Time Master's priority list.

"It will," Oliver agreed. "Everyone else: suit up."

~ 0 ~

Like before, Savage was waiting for the group to arrive at the agreed place. However this time, everyone was ready for the 'trade off'.

"It's wonderful to see you again, my love," he said for Kendra, who shivered in disgust.

"I will never be your love."

"I know. That always makes this easier. Chay-Ara...parting is such sweet sorrow-"

But Kendra could not wait for him to finish. Oliver drew an arrow and shot the knife right out of Savage's hand.

Kendra immediately followed with her wings, and perhaps a hawk scream. She took Savage into her arms and pulled him into the air before dumping him on the ground. A black van screeched as it made its entrance into the building, making a quick swerve so that it's trunk faced the fight.

As soon as its doors flung open, the Black Canary's sonic scream filled the room. It forced Savage to stop fighting against Kendra and Carter for a second and fight off the sound waves.

It was then that Belén flung a vine and forced the staff out of Savage's hand. He growled and turned to retrieve it but Graciela delivered a consecutive wave of energy beams. Despite Savage's attempts to fight off the energy, he couldn't break free of the others' combats. It gave Barry the perfect shot to retrieve the staff from where it landed.

"Get clear!" he ordered. The group jumped out of the way just as he ignored the staff with the gauntlets. Savage was hit with the force of power, but it wasn't enough yet to take him down. He fought it with his bare hands.

Oliver joined Barry and together held the staff, hoping that between them it would be enough to stand against Savage. The others encircled the procession in case anything went wrong...but to their fortune...it didn't. The staff erupted with a new force of energy and burned Savage to ash.

Before Barry and Oliver knew it, the staff was no longer in their hands. It had disappeared.

"Did we do it? Is he gone?" Thea stared at the ash as if Savage was reform any second.

"Grace?" Belén nicknamed the woman without even noticing.

"I don't know, it's never happened…" Graciela admitted and turned her attention to Kendra and Carter for some additional help.

But like her, they were at a loss of words.

~0~

It was a beautiful day at Central City, especially when it was rid of villainous immortal beings.

"One Java chip and caramel macchiato for Belén!" a Jitters barista called as she pushed two coffee cups down the counter.

Belén was there to pick them up and return to the group waiting by the doors with their own drinks.

"Thanks," Graciela took her Java chip and took a moment to smell the sweet chocolatey scent. "Mmm, we don't have that smell at home anymore."

"Hopefully now you do," Kendra smiled, knowing Graciela was getting ready to return to the future.

"We'll see," Graciela raised her cup in the air before taking a sip. She moaned as she tasted the delicious drink. "Oh my God this is good!"

"So how do you feel now that Savage is pushing daisies?" Cisco asked Kendra and Carter once they were outside. "Does this mean you guys are the immortal ones now and he's the one who gets reincarnated? 'Cause that would suck."

"I just sprouted wings a few days ago, and I'm just trying to wrap my head around that," Kendra said, really just taking step by step.

"He does raise a good point, though," Barry admitted. It'd been the question they couldn't answer since last night. "Savage is gone for good now, right?"

"I don't know. We never defeated him before," Carter paused to think about something else they hadn't yet. "But we're free." Kendra agreed and hugged him.

"Ugh, get a room," Cisco muttered. Belén partes his back comfortingly, knowing he was doing his best to keep his feelings out of this.

"You finally have the rest of your lives in front of you. Have you thought about what you're going to do?" asked Oliver.

"Carter says in our past lives, we used to help people. And after everything you guys have done for me, I think I should give that a try," Kendra said with a sense of determination.

"You make it sound like this try is happening somewhere else," Belén noted, feeling worse for Cisco.

"In our prior incarnation, we used to live in St. Roch, and we really liked it there," Carter looked at Kendra, but she was already gazing at Cisco.

"Could Cisco and I have a moment?" she asked softly.

"Of course," Carter was the one to say and led the way away.

Graciela ominously checked her time watch and saw a red dot blinking on the screen. She quietly cleared her throat and took another sip of her coffee.

"Hey Grace - sorry," Belén has caught herself before and she hated that she kept doing it.

"It's fine," Graciela smiled. "I kinda like it."

"I was just going to ask...about that place you talked about before?" Belén awkwardly smiled. "The Green?"

"Right," Graciela released a breath, giving the wrong indication that she didn't want to go further on that subject.

"I mean I totally understand if you're trying to keep the timeline in tact and all...we don't have to-"

"-no, we can," Graciela looked at the whole group with a smirk. "It's not like I was one for keeping it intact, right?"

"Still…"

"Look, Belén, I'm not an expert on the Green. I just read about it, from your article I'll remind, and there's always rumors about it. Every botanical metahuman has a connection to that place."

"How do you get there, though?"

"You command it with the mind but you physically go in," Graciela shrugged. "I think it's just up to you to access it."

"Oh, well, that should be easy," Belén sighed.

Barry placed a hand on her shoulder. "And she'll get it. Because she always does."

"Thanks for the support," Belén languidly said and drank dejectedly from her coffee.

"So what are you going to do now?" Oliver inquired from Graciela. "Go back home? Or…"

Graciela didn't tell them she heard the alert on her watch getting louder, they'd soon see for themselves. "Home. I don't belong in this time and...I knew what was going to happen when I stole the time watch."

"About that..." Barry was cautious in how he spoke about the matter, "...the people you stole it from...are they going to be okay with that? I mean, you said your friend, right?"

"I don't regret it," Graciela reiterated, though now she was looking past the two metas. They, along with Oliver, followed her gaze to see a portal opening and letting in a group of uniformed men and women.

"Who are they?" Oliver narrowed his eyes on what he perceived as the threat.

"The Time Masters, coming to collect their prisoner," Graciela drank the last of her coffee and dumped it into the trash bin behind her.

"Graciela Haynez," a man from the group called as he led the way. "You are under arrest for theft and illegal time traveling." Just as Graciela was raising her hands, the man yanked her arms harshly and turned her around to cuff her from behind.

"What are you doing to her?" demanded Barry, ready to step forwards when Graciela called for them to stay still.

"It's okay! Don't do anything!" she faced the man that shot her with a glower. "It was worth it. The Time Masters' organization is a sham. It's full of convenience."

"And yet you fraternize with two of ours," the man behind her made sure to say loudly, as if it would shame her into silence. "You calling them fake as well?"

Graciela rolled her eyes. "They're my friends, and they're genuine, but they don't have the power to change the entire system. So I took it into my own hands. And now I'm ready to face the consequences."

"Graciela Haynez, ," the man pushed her to turn for the portal, but she fought to turn around and face him. "You have changed the timelines without consent-"

"-I don't care!" she snapped and smacked his chest with her shoulder.

"You also have murder on your tracklist, according to London's authorities-"

"-and!?"

"Barry, they're hurting her!" Belén attempted to move but Barry and even Oliver held onto each of her arms.

"She said not to," Oliver reminded, but it was hard to watch knowing how it was going to end.

The group had moved in on Graciela, each attempting to subdue her. Despite being cuffed, Graciela did put up a fight.

"I'm not resisting! I just want to say goodbye!" she yelled frantically. "That's my legal right, isn't it? Or has your corrupted system taken that out as well?"

The Time Masters seemed unsure and looked to their leader for a command. The leader, in turn, noticed the people around them starting to stare. He gave a nod for them to pick Graciela up and give her what she wanted. Once she was back on her feet, two of them held her arms and walked her up to the trio.

"What's going to happen to you?" Belén asked, her eyes flickering to the dangerous-looking people behind Graciela.

Graciela shrugged, returning to normal within the second as if things weren't going down like this. "I'm going to jail."

"And you say it just like that?"

"Because that's what she was always going to do," Oliver realized,

Belén whipped her head in his direction. "What?"

"He's right," Graciela nodded. "It was the plan. I said it."

"But why?" Belén found herself asking. And to be fair, it was a good question. Graciela had the means to run and hide after all. "That watch can take you anywhere."

"I also said I stole it from a friend that I...deeply care about," Graciela's eyes lowered for a minute. It gave enough indication of just how much she cared for this friend. "If I know this... organization enough, then I know they're probably dragging him through the mud thinking he gave me the watch in secret."

"You're clearing his name by putting yourself in jail," Barry nodded.

"I love him. I can't do that to him," Graciela nodded to herself. She would never openly admit that but she wasn't ever going to see any of these people again. "He's one of the two who are honestly trying to help people, unlike this lot."

"Will we ever see you again?" Belén assumed she knew the answer, but she had to try.

Graciela shook her head. "Probably not. But it was really cool meeting you guys." A big grin came to her face. "I always read about the metas from the 21st century. I think you guys are the most famous, honestly. The Azalea, the Flash and the Arrow - not to mention Supergirl and Solar? You guys are awesome. And for a crook like me to actually get to fight alongside you guys...it gives hope that maybe one day a new Jinx might take up the mantle and do some good."

"Let's go," called the leader.

"Bye guys," Graciela offered a smile before she was forced to turn around.

"No, wait!" Belén called but it was too late.

Graciela was forced through the portal with all the Time Masters around her as if she would escape. In two seconds she was gone with no trace after her. It was as if things never happened.

~0~

After saying goodbye to everyone else, and boy was it a decent amount of people, Belén was ready to return home. Home sweet home. But after such an intense two days, it was a bit difficult to unwind and just...be normal again.

"Not hungry?" Barry asked two times before Belén finally heard him. They were at her apartment, attempting to have a normal dinner that night. Things weren't going that well.

Belén stopped picking at her plate and put her fork down. "Sorry. I'm tired...and I just can't stop thinking about…"

"Grace?" Barry finished for her and got a nod from her.

"It's too bad her nickname caught on after she got sent to jail," Belén sighed and pushed her plate away. "I'm sorry. Thanks for dinner but I'm not very hungry."

"Yeah, I see that," Barry got up from his seat and moved to Belén's chair. He held his hand out for her and pulled her up from her seat. "And I'm sorry I can't do anything to help you."

"I'm not the one that needs help," Belén pointed out. "It's Graciela. I mean, she helped us take down Vandal Savage and what's her prize? Jail."

"Belén, she stole a time watch and she time traveled illegally. Those are crimes in her time," Barry sighed. "I mean I know I should look at who's talking, but…"

"I know," Belén nodded, but it didn't make it easy to deal with. "I just think it's not fair."

Barry took her to the living room and sat down on the couch. He gently pulled her body onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

"Kind of puts our morals into question, doesn't it?" Belén rested her head over his shoulder. Her light breathing tickled Barry's neck. "She did a bad thing to do a good thing. And from what I got, she used to do bad things but she turned a new leaf. I hope she's being treated decently."

"Mhm," Barry pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Belén let a few minutes pass in silence. Her body was tired, as was her mind in general. She felt so comfortable with Barry right now, she didn't want it to end. "Hey Barry, can you stay tonight?" she picked her head up and brought a hand to his shoulder.

Barry didn't want to say it out loud but staying overnight was something they both needed. She died in an alternate timeline, after all. The burning blue behind him wasn't something he could forget so easily.

"Just...to sleep, just sleeping," Belén said after a minute passed without Barry's response. They hadn't really stayed in the same bedroom since they fought the Reverse Flash, but even then it'd only been to sleep, nothing more.

Barry felt his face warm up but he quickly nodded in an attempt to hide it. "Yeah, of course. Just to sleep. Sleeping is good. Good, good, good…"

A smile came to Belén's face, as well as a light chuckle. "Thanks. I love you."

"I love you too," Barry smiled with her. He tucked some of her hair behind her ear and kissed her.

~0~

Graciela was pushed down into a rusty, metal chair of an interrogation room. Her wrists were forced down on the table and kept there like magnets.

"Do we really have to go through this when I am pleading guilty?" she raised an eyebrow at the Time Master in front of her. "I just needed a chance to clear up any mistakes in your file."

"We already know what happened," the man said matter-of-factly. "The Time watch in your possession belonged to our fellow Time Master, Rip Hunter. Question is, how'd you convince him to hand it to you?"

Graciela didn't know whether to laugh at how ridiculous that was, or cry out of frustration that she had to once again repeat her entire guilty plead. "You're kidding right? I thought of a plan and I executed it on my own. Rip didn't have anything to do with this and the idea that he willingly gave up his watch is laughable." The Time Master stared long and hard at her while he deduced whether or not she was being honest. Graciela just smirked in the end because no matter much trouble she was in, it was damn worth it. "I did what you all wouldn't. A Jinx might have saved the world. Vandal Savage is dead."

The man across her did not seemed fazed. "Is he, though?"

Graciela's smirk faltered. "What?"

"Vandal Savage is crucial to our timeline, to our world. You cannot kill him."

By now, Graciela's smirk was gone. "What - what are you talking about?"

"He will live, because he is meant to." The Time Master snapped his fingers and the interrogation room door opened. "Because this is only the beginning of things. You did exactly what you were supposed to do, what we saw you doing."

"You don't - you can't say that! He's dead!" Graciela started pulling at her wrist binds, essentially pulling at the table. "He's dead!"

"He lives," the man reiterated with such confidence it rocked Graciela to the core.

"NO!" she started screaming when two men entered the room to unbind her from the table to take her away. "STOP! HE CAN'T LIVE! Not after what we did! STOOOP!"

Her echoes carried out even as she was dragged away.

[surlybobbies]

For the Love of the Game [deancas, 1.5k, T]

Summary:

“A tense moment on the field between good friends. Novak has taken Dean Winchester’s legs out from under him - did he get the ball? What do you think, Joe? Yellow card?”

“Looks like he just about got the ball to me. Fair challenge. Though judging by his reaction, it looks like Winchester doesn’t agree."

(Dean and Cas over the course of three years as players of opposing soccer teams.)

Author’s notes: written in the 90 minutes it took to watch a soccer game at 1am.  I’m a sucker for athlete Dean and Cas.

Read on ao3 or

“Of course, Winchester and Novak have known each other since they were kids.  Best friends, these two, off the pitch.  On the pitch, however, as I’m sure we’ll see today, is a different story.”

The loss is a difficult one to take; it means that Cas and his team are now on the bottom half of the league table, a position they haven’t been in for well over a decade.  

After the final whistle, Dean jogs to Cas, whose hands are clutching at his hair in disbelief.  Dean puts his hands around Cas’s face, forcing Cas to look at him.  “You okay?”

Cas closes his eyes and grits his teeth.  He’s probably thinking about the goal Dean had scored just 10 minutes before the final whistle, and how he’d been unable to prevent it.  “I will be.”

Dean sighs and pulls Cas in for a rough hug.  “I’ll tell mom you’re coming over this weekend.”

“How long is she in town?” 

“Just a week,” Dean says.  “She’ll want to see you.”

Cas shoves him away and scrubs his face with both hands.  “Just let me know.”

++

“Apparently they stay at each other’s bachelor pads over holidays.”

It’s been coming for years, but when Cas pulls Dean in for a kiss on Christmas, it’s still a surprise.  Dean takes a few moments to fully register what’s happening, that Cas is really finally kissing him, but once it sinks in, he is definitely on board with the developments, and he pushes Cas against the wall and starts to thoroughly enjoy himself.

A century later, Cas pulls away.  “This is unwise,” he says breathlessly.

Dean’s dizzy with Cas’s touch.  He touches Cas’s face because he can’t stand not touching him.  “You started it,” he says, all he can think of to say.

Cas frowns a little bit, but his nostrils flare with how hard he’s breathing.  “How I got here, kissing an absolute idiot, I have no idea.”

“You’ve also got a hand up my shirt,” Dean supplies unhelpfully, “if you wanted to get around to removing that.”

Cas arches an eyebrow, and Dean likes it.  “Do you want me to remove it?” Cas asks, leaning in again, dragging his hand down to Dean’s waistband at an agonizingly slow pace.

Dean’s hopeless - absolutely done for.  “Definitely not.”

“Good,” Cas growls, and Dean likes that a lot.

++

“Their rivalry seems to fuel their friendship - or is it the other way around?”

“Just to be clear, this doesn’t mean I’m going to take it easy on you this Saturday,”

Dean’s lounging, one hand behind his head, watching the progress of Cas’s lips down his chest with lidded eyes.  “Wouldn’t love you if you did.”

There’s a long pause.  Cas lifts his eyes to watch Dean’s expression, but it doesn’t waver.  The only sign of nerves is in the way his throat moves.  Cas acknowledges the word with a small smile and a lingering kiss to the center of Dean’s chest.  Later, he’ll murmur the word over and over and over into Dean’s hair, his hands on Dean’s ass, encouraging him, and Dean will swell and break with it.

++

“A tense moment between good friends.  Novak has taken Dean Winchester’s legs out from under him - did he get the ball?  What do you think, Joe?  Yellow card?”

“Looks like he just about got the ball to me.  Fair challenge.  Though it looks like Winchester doesn’t seem to agree.”

“Could have broken my leg, Cas,” Dean spits.

Cas is adjusting his shin pads.  He looks up at Dean.  “Hardly - it was a fair challenge.”

Dean gets up right in his face when Cas straightens.  Cas has seen this face in the throes of pleasure and he knows he’ll see it again; he lifts his chin and smirks, knowing how much Dean will hate it.  

“Also, ref begs to differ,” Cas says, winking.  “No foul.”

“Jesus, you’re a cocky bastard.”

“And you’re a shit striker.”

“You shouldn’t even be on the field with a challenge like that.”

Cas is getting back into position, walking backwards so he can throw one last remark at Dean: “You shouldn’t even be on the field with skills like that.”

Dean’s face turns red.  “What’d you just say?”

In the end the ref has to separate them; no cards are shown, but neither of them talk to the other for two weeks.

It goes without saying that the eventual make-up sex is fantastic.

++

“It’s Novak’s last game for the Angels - he’ll be officially retired at the end of these 90 minutes, aged 35.  Fitting that his greatest rival and friend should be on the pitch with him, albeit playing for the opposition.”

Cas is subbed at 87 minutes for his last ovation from the home crowd.  They adore him as he adores them, and Dean knows this last walk off the field has got to be an emotionally harrowing moment for Cas.

Dean hopes his fans won’t give him too much shit for what he does next: he pulls Cas in for a rough hug as Cas walks to the touchline to be subbed.  He doesn’t look Cas in the eye, and shoves him away before either of them do something stupid like cry.

++

“Back for the second half of the first game of the season, and Dean Winchester’s 37th minute goal is the only thing separating the two sides.

As most know, Winchester announced over the break that he and his best friend and former Angels player Cas Novak have been dating.  There’s been quite a bit of backlash, mostly from fans who think their relationship has swayed their performances over the years, but both Winchester’s manager and Novak’s former manager have laughed off that particular suggestion.  What do you think, Greg?”

“No, they’ve both been consummate professionals, haven’t they, over the years?  Obviously good friends - well, we know why now - but it never stopped either of them from giving it their all on the pitch.”

“They both loved the game too much to let anything affect it.”

It’s not fun, being the only player in the league out of the closet.  His teammates don’t treat him any differently, but Dean sometimes feels like he’s slowly being frozen out.

“It’s because you didn’t say anything to us.”

“What the hell was I supposed to say, Benny?  ‘I’m fucking a guy, and it’s Cas Novak’?”

Benny sighs.  “I don’t know, Dean.  They just want to know their captain’s being honest with them.  Sleeping with the opposition is pretty shady, alright?”

Dean hangs his head.  He understands.  He’s still pissed, still frustrated, but he makes up his mind.  He slams his locker to get everyone’s attention.  “Just figured you all would want to know,” he says loudly, a little angrily, “I’m asking Cas to marry me tonight.”

Stunned silence.  Dean stares them all down, daring any of them to say anything.  If he has to knock someone out for talking shit about Cas, he swears he’ll do it and damn the consequences.

But nothing happens.  Ash grins, scratching his neck.  “We’re invited to the wedding, right?”

The laughter that follows breaks the ice.  Dean tries and fails to stop himself from crying when they all come forward to congratulate him.

++

“Dean Winchester made history by marrying Cas Novak over the break.  It’s a great moment in sport, but he’s opened up in a recent interview regarding the homophobic abuse he and his husband have received.”

“A shame that.  The sport needs to do more to support their LGBTQ+ players.”

“Agreed.  But despite all that, Winchester says he’s proud to lead the way for others to come out in his wake.  Plus, his husband is here to watch his first game of the season, so that must make up for it somewhat.”

“He’s probably not happy to see Novak in Angel colors, though!”

“The rivalry lives on!”

“Who wants to bet that it’ll be a tense atmosphere in the Novak-Winchester home tonight?”

Cas is solemn as he greets Dean at the door of their home, but Dean scowls at him anyway.  “Don’t think I didn’t see you cheering when they scored.”

Cas looks a little abashed.  “They’re my friends, Dean.”

“I’m your husband.”

Cas hides his smile in Dean’s neck.  “And I love you.”  He wraps his arms around Dean so he can’t wriggle away.  “But I also love my team.  My fans would have rioted if I’d shown up in your jersey.”

Dean doesn’t bother arguing.  He played for the full 90, and the emotional toll of the loss is just now sinking in.  “I’m ready to go to bed,” he says, his voice raw.

“Alright,” Cas says, kissing Dean on the cheek.  “I’ll be there soon.”

Dean is half asleep when Cas walks in wearing Dean’s jersey and a pair of sweatpants - then Dean’s suddenly wide-awake and half-hard.

Cas gets under the covers and leans over Dean, smelling like shampoo and toothpaste.  “Good night,” he says cheerfully.

Dean stares at his husband, marveling at the audacity.  Finally, he says, “You’re such a jackass,” but diminishes the effect by pulling Cas in roughly by the front of the shirt and kissing him, much to Cas’s delight.

_____________ tag list:

@super-powerful-queen-slayyna @lifeisingrey @fangirlingtodeath513 @levicastho @dontlosethemoon @dmsilvisart @hello-vague-stuff @bold-sartorial-statement @snarkysnartes @massivefaceperson @dontlosethemoon @livebloggingmydescentintomadness @yourspecialeyes @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover​ @profoundnet

(if you’ve asked me to put you on the tag list and i haven’t I’M SO SORRY i was bombarded with a bunch of notifs and may have missed it… send me an ask - replies sometimes get buried esp if you don’t reply on the original post - and i’ll update the list!)

[2manyfandoms2count]

#MarichatMay Day 25+26

In which Marinette and Chat Noir adopt some kittens, and Marinette realises Chat is a lot more like a cat than she realised (also a prequel for the next prompt). Hope you enjoy!

@marichatmay

---

Day 25: Blep + Day 26: Toe Beans

Marinette was feeling morose. She couldn’t quite say why, but something told her the last akumatisation had something to do with it. She had no memory of it, apart from another Ladybug coming in, erasing what she’d been writing on her gift for Adrien and the next thing she knew she was standing on the steps of the Trocadéro, empty-handed and an awfully bad feeling in her gut. She had put on a brave face, tried to pretend everything was alright, but there was a constant nagging, at the back of her head, accompagnied with flashes of bright white and icy blue, which distracted her a lot.

Chat and Adrien both noticed her change of mood in their interactions with her. Her classmate had thought, at first, that the characteristic slower pace of the ending school year could explain her lack of focus. But the lighthearted, funny, sunny girl he was used to hanging out with as Chat had also disappeared. She was almost apathetic at Home, her latest projects half-abandoned in various places in her room, but there was a restlessness, an anxious edge to her as well, that was seemingly soothed by Chat’s presence. He noticed that lying next to her, she would fall asleep easily, despite her comments on her current insomnia.

Marinette wanted to talk to Chat about how she was feeling. She really did. He was the only person who could probably understand. If she had been affected by previous events, surely he must have been too? She had tried to broach the subject with him, but she didn’t know how to go through with the conversation without saying something she shouldn’t. The fact she struggled with expressing her feelings didn’t worry Chat as much as the panic in her eyes when she talked about them did. He couldn’t think of a way to help her in the long run. He thought being there for her, while giving her emotional space, to let her process her feelings was probably the best he could do. He’d be damned if he’d leave her alone with her thoughts, and if he wouldn’t help her get a break from them sometimes, though.

Hence the kittens in Marinette’s room. Three babies Adrien hadn’t been able to resist as he walked by a pet store in the school vicinity. He’d immediately thought about Marinette as he saw them, how sure he was they would make her feel better. He’d found an alley to transform as he walked out and had gone straight to her place, mindful of the beings in the box he was carrying. He’d barely been able to contain his excitement as she let him in, her curiosity piqued by the container he was holding.

“Purr-incess, you’re going to love this!” He had opened the lid very slowly, as if performing a magic trick. She had gasped at the site of the baby cats, one of which was asleep.

“Chat they’re so cute!!” She squealed as she delicately picked one of the awake cats, an orange tabby cat, which meowed gently at her touch. 

Chat mirrored her, cradling his own grey kitten and scratching its belly. “I meow, right?” He grinned as he felt the baby’s tiny claws on his glove.

“They’re so tiny! Look at the little toe beans!” She cooed in response to the meowing. 

“Hey, how come you never compliment my toe beans?” Chat asked, slightly offended. 

“You have toe beans?” His goal to distract her and amuse her was going very well, he noted.

“Purr-haps you should check for yourself.” Chat carefully set down the kitten he’d been holding out of the way before rolling onto his back and lifting his legs up so Marinette could see his feet. 

“Oh my goodness, you actually do!” She gently placed the tabby in the box, and focused on the bright green squishy pads on her partner’s soles, an almost awe-struck expression on her face. She reached out to touch them.

“Whoa, there, Purr-incess, what do you think you’re doing?” Chat recoiled at her approaching hands.

“I want to touch them!” Her pout turned into an devilish grin as she slowly crawled closer to him. “Kitty, don’t tell me you’re... ticklish?”

“Me? Meow way!” He scoffed, although instinctively inching backwards as Marinette approached.

“Why don’t you stay still for a moment then, so I can test that theory?” 

She got close enough to graze his foot, triggering a kicking instinct in him that she barely dodged, her usual escape reflexes impeded by the fact she was laughing.

The cristalline sound Chat hadn’t heard in a while filled the room, Marinette rolling on the ground, clutching her stomach as she gave in to the merriment. It felt so good to laugh. She couldn’t remember the last time she had. Chat wiggled on the floor in delight, feeling satisfied. This was all his doing. What a great friend he was. He blepped unconsciously, closing his eyes as he basked in her laugh. It faltered a little as the girl tried to catch her breath, but the combined sight of Chat and the blepping kitten next to him sent her in another fit of giggles, complete with tears streaming down her face.

“Chat... I’d never noticed... how much... of a cat... you are!” She managed to fit between intakes of breath, fishing for her phone to take a picture.

Chat cocked an eyebrow as he opened an eye. “Being a cat is literally the job description, Purr-incess.”

Marinette managed to control her laughter enough to resume a normal conversation, although her shoulders still shook occasionally. “I know, but it just hit me! I knew about the purring, but you blep, too!!” She all but shoved the picture she’d taken in his face, her laughter erupting again. Adrien would have to move over. That photo was making it on her wall, next to her bed so she could wake up to it every morning.

“Maybe one day I’ll let you see my reaction to cucumbers.” He winked, turning to the kitten at his side which had started meowing.

“No wayyyyy.” She grinned.

Noise emerging from the box caught her attention. The third kitten was now awake, its green eyes contrasting with the black of its fur. 

“Look, this one looks just like you!” She gasped as she lifted it out of the box. She stroked it lightly. The cat purred under her fingers, and attempted to lick them. “Aren’t you the cutest little kitty?” She cooed as she played with it, dodging its claws.

Chat felt a pang of jealousy, which he knew was completely uncalled for. How could he be jealous of a cat. He smiled at the sight of happy Marinette. He’d really missed her. He hoped she would get better soon. 

“Do you want to keep it?” He blurted. He knew a pet could not replace a therapist, or someone to talk to in general, but it could be some well-needed emotional support.

“Really? Could I?” She looked up, and there was such joy in her eyes he wouldn’t have been able to refuse her even if he’d wanted to.

“Of course! If your parents are okay with it, of course, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble...” He thought of his own situation. He probably would get into trouble himself if his father found out he was harbouring two cats behind his back. Then again, he had managed to hide Plagg, and he was high maintenance. He was actually surprised no one in his household questioned the amount of expensive cheese he insisted on keeping in his room. His room was probably big enough to hide animals as well, but purr-haps leaving one here would be safer.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine with it, Papa’s been talking about getting a cat for a while. He says it’s to prevent mice from invading the bakery, but I think secretly he’s just soft for them.” She said in a hushed tone. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy here, Kitten Noir.” She added for the cat, lifting it up to eye level.

“Kitten Noir? Fur real?” Chat asked, his heart fluttering in his chest. She was naming the cat after him.

“It’s very fitting, don’t you think?” She shone a bright smile his way. “He can be our baby.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it. 

Chat’s heart rate was off the charts at the sign of affection and the insinuation that they could be parents together. Holy Camembert, how much he would like that. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand, gathering his remaining kittens in an attempt to conceal his fiery cheeks.

“Well then, I guess I’ll have to come around more often to make sure he gets a paw-per upbringing. I don’t trust you to teach him puns.” Chat said, straightening up and trying to act casual.

“I would really like that, Kitty.” Marinette said softly, almost shyly, as she got up as well. 

They walked up to her balcony. Chat didn’t particularly want to go, but the orange sky told him he should be on his way. Time sure does fly when you’re having fun, he thought, calculating that they must have spent at least a couple of hours playing around. Marinette tugged at his free arm before he left.

“Thank you, Kitty. For everything.” She stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek. Chat refrained himself from bringing his fingers to the spot.

“Anytime, Purr-incess.” He smiled, a warm feeling spreading inside of him. “You can always count on me, Mrs. Noir.”

She smiled fondly at him and waved as he leapt off the roof. She clung to the inner fuzziness Chat jokingly calling her his wife had created. She didn’t know how long it would last, but she enjoyed feeling herself again. She skipped back down to her room, humming. She picked up Kitten Noir and stroked him absentmindedly, waiting to hear her parents to go downstairs. One thought filled her head as she waited. She couldn’t wait to see her Chaton again.

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Limerence [M] ︳29

Pairing: Zuko x OC

AU: Adult-Verse

Genre: Romance, mainly fluff with smut, and if you squint hard enough - you’ll find some angst.

Rating: SFW

Words: 7300+

Notes: A huge thank you for all of the support and love I have gotten! It’s heartwarming, and I do appreciate it. Don’t be shy to leave a comment, like, or reblog; and we’ll meet again next week :)

Masterlist ︳ 28 2/2  ︳ 30 [M]

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

Limerence: (English/n.) the state of being infatuated with another person. The moment their eyes locked they knew - the flames within him twisted while the water within her turned. It was a connection, a connection that would lead to love, adventure, and drama.

Toska

(Russian/n.) A dull, aching of the soul; tremendous spiritual anguish.

 ~ Ying Yue Jiang ~

             It took all the willpower in the world to not throw the damn ice spear at Zuko’s head and aim at Azula’s hand instead. I swore under my breath, hearing her shriek of agony - I missed.

             The spear cut through the air, lodging itself into the burnt ground in front of her. The sharp piece of ice grazed her hand, halting her movement and the sparks of lightning that were emerging from her fingertips. I let out a sigh of relief; Sokka says I’m the one who needs to be babysat.

            Azula gripped her hand to her chest, scarlet running down her wrist, contrasting against her porcelain skin. She’s going to have a nice scar from that - I was sure of it.

            With a snap of my wrist, I rose my hand, letting the water that I gathered pool up my arm, forming another spear. I was already mentally preparing for Azula to revolt. She didn’t exactly seem like the forgiving type. My eyes narrowed, analyzing her posture, but Sokka’s voice cut the tension in my muscles.

            “Princess!”

            Sokka and Aang gazed up at me with looks that cried relief, Sokka cheering far too loudly for a man who just cheated death. But despite their sincere smiles and exuberance, my eyes lined up with Zuko’s. A mixture of appreciation and panic seeping into those soul retching orbs.

            The pink lips that I grew to love parted as he did a double-take – and as much as I wanted to strangle that man, I let out a breath of relief. He’s okay; he’s safe. That means I get the honour of kicking his ass when we get home. Oh the anger that ran through my blood at the moment, I pitied Azula, since she was going to get the brunt of it.

            “Just the person I was waiting for.” Azula hissed, raising her injured hand mockingly. I gave her a cunning smile, tilting my head to the side as I observed the wound. Her fingers took most of the damage, cutting the skin and a bit of frostbite emerging.

            “Some aim you got there.” Azula complimented, although there wasn’t a hint of sincerity in her statement.

            “Hmm, not good enough. I was aiming for your wrist.” I responded, earning a sadist grin from Azula.

            “You’re not as weak as I thought you were Imperial Consort Ying Yue. You’re a feisty one, isn’t she Zuzu?” she purred, licking her lips while with playful eyes.

            Seeing her with Zuko, I could see the resemblance.

            Besides the obvious; they had this confident presence to them.

            It was overwhelming being in a room alone with Zuko, let alone the new addition of Azula. They gave off this aurora of power and royalty. Even the way she stood; it reminded me of Zuko to a tee. Eyes were scanning, seeking, preparing for anything. It was like they never rested, always on their toes, and that was what made them as notorious as they were.

            Expect, one of them is celebrated for the good they achieved, while the other chose the latter.

            “Leave her alone, Azula.” Zuko scowled, stepping forward. I could tell from the way his shoulders squared, cracking his fingers with narrowed eyes, Zuko was starting to get aggravated. Aang stepped forward, hand resting on his shoulder, preventing him from moving forward, “Zuko – somethings not right-”

            Zuko looked over his shoulder, nodding at Aang’s statement.

            Aang was right; it was…odd.

            Why would Azula attack Sokka and Aang by herself? She’s outnumbered, and she should’ve known that we would’ve noticed, gone to help. Azula rolled her eyes towards Aang, but Aang brushed off the gesture without a second thought.

            My eyes studied Aang, and I frowned.

            He looked beat, deep under circles and skin pale. It was as if he hadn’t slept for days, and at that moment, I gazed over at Sokka. He also looked fatigued, almost fragile. They really did travel here non-stop, not resting once. They can’t fight like that; they’re exhausted-

            “Zuko; we need to get Aang and Sokka out of here.” I blurted, putting aside my distaste for Zuko at the moment. He twisted on his heel, turning to face me. But before he could mutter a word, Azula cut him off, eyes focused on me. “Not so fast. You think you can come here, injury me, and walk off?” She snarled.

            Azula lifted her uninjured hand, letting her fingertips rest upon her battered fingers. “Next time, Ying Yue, make sure you hit your target. Then I wouldn’t’ve been able to do this.”

            She isn’t. There’s no way she would-

            Azula’s fingertips ghosted over the long gashes that decorated her hand, her fingers glowing over the wounds. I winced, the smell of burning flesh fluttering into the air. She was cauterizing her wounds, stopping the bleeding. But what impressed me the most was that Azula didn’t bat an eyelash at the pain.

            Her skin darkened, browning and hardening, and I couldn’t help but think back to Zuko. Remembering the scars that ran along his arms, torso, and legs, they were raised as well. I knew the injuries were old battle wounds, but it didn’t occur to me once that it was because he cauterized them during battle. A quick fix to a bad injury, a bandage until you can get the proper medical attention.

            Sokka’s face scrunched up at Azula, stepping back into the tree line that was a mere footstep away. That’s right, why was Sokka running that way anywho? And where are the guards that Zuko had with him? As sneaky as Sokka tried, Azula spotted him shuffling away. Her legs bent, ready to chase, but I moved faster.

            My hand gripped the spear tightly, swinging my body forward with as much force I could muster. The spear glided out of my hand at a sharp angle, flying through the sky effortlessly. “DOWN,” I cried, and Zuko and Aang crouched in the nick of time.

            The ice flew over their heads, skimming their hair and landing right in front of Azula’s feet. Dirt shot upwards, piercing the ground and halting her movements.

            “Thanks, Princess, I promise I’ll give you a giant hug and cookies~!” Sokka shouted, and I scoffed. Even in battle, Sokka is still Sokka.

            I stepped over the edge, falling onto the chard ground before sprinting to where Zuko and Aang were stooped in surprise. “Were you trying to kill us?” Aang huffed, although he still wore a silly smile. I shot him a coy grin, shrugging my shoulders, “I wasn’t trying to hit you, although I can’t say the same about Zuko...”

            “Oh, come on- you can’t seriously be mad-”

            “We can talk about it when we get home.” I snapped.

            Zuko frowned, straightening his back as he stalked his way towards me, “I did what I had to do.” He spoke, the tone he used far too stern for my liking.

            “Oh, did you, Fire Lord Zuko? Lying to me, leaving me behind?” I snuffled, challenging that authoritative tone of his. Zuko sucked in a breath, trying not to lose his shit at the moment. “Cut me some damn slack Yue!” Zuko shouted, and I puffed, “Cut you some slack? I swear Zuko you-”

            In a flash, Aang ran in front of us.

            He spun his wooden staff between his hands effortlessly; knees bent as blue flames dispersed around us. Sweat beaded down his forehead, looking over his shoulder with a frown, “I’m sorry for interrupting your lover’s quarrel, but a little help would be much appreciated.” Aang huffed, Azula not letting up her assault.

            “Take care of Aang; I got this.” I blurted, sprinting forward. Zuko lunged to grasp my arm, his fingertips brushing my skin as I ran, “Babe, no! Your bending-”

            “I don’t need my bending for this-” I hissed, and slid underneath Aang’s staff.

            The dirt and ash from the ground rubbed against my legs, while the heat from Azula’s flames had my skin heating up. In a flash, I found myself underneath her outstretched arms, watching the way her muscles tensed with power.

            Azula looked taken aback, realizing that I was a few inches away from her. I shot her a cheeky grin before lunging upwards, thrusting my knee into her gut. Her infamous blue flames halted, stumbling backwards, gasping for air. She held her stomach in pain, shooting daggers at me, “You really think you can win without bending?”

            “At this rate – yes.” Her eyes widen at the insult as I dove once again. I punched without much effort, letting her arms rise to block the attack, and with a twist of my body, swung my leg high.

            My foot kicked the side of her head, Azula faltering at the impact.

            “You’re a Firebender prodigy – there’s no denying that, but nobody’s perfect.” I huffed, straightening out my arms in front of me. Everyone had a weakness; while I may be superior in combat, my healing skills were utter trash. It would only make sense that Azula’s combat skills weren’t as sharp as her Firebending – and I plan on exploiting that factor.

            Azula wiped the blood that trickled down her forehead with the back of her hand; lips pressed thin. “You’re wrong,” She hissed under her breath before advancing, “I’m perfect.”

            She moved gracefully, light on her feet, almost like air itself.

            Her arm sprang frontward, and with a swift lean, I effortlessly dodged the burst of flames that fluttered from her fingers. There was something fascinating in the way she fought; a sharp contrast to Zuko.

            While Zuko was undeniable smooth, powerful and strategic; Azula was beyond your average acrobatic. Her flexibility gave her an edge, continually shifting her weight between punches. I twisted my torso back, letting a flicker of fire soar past me before running forward. And it was watching Azula move, dancing side to side that I started to notice – she’s getting tired.

            While her technique was without fault, fast to attack and shooting spontaneous bursts of flames, it cost in stamina. Her constant need to release small eruptions while moving on her toes had her chest rising and falling quicker than I had expected. Her sharp ponytail began loosening while we twirled, her tough demeanour wavering.

            I winced slightly under my breath, pins and needles starting to tingle up my limbs. Between this morning training with Zuko, passing out, and now this – I was pushing my body, and I was starting to feel the effects. While my old self would’ve been breezing away, I was tired. I wasn’t used to this anymore, and as she nailed another kick on my thigh, I frowned. The bruises I was going to get after this, just my luck.

            My positioning switched, no longer being on the offensive side, playing safe and letting her tire herself out. And she didn’t let that change go unnoticed, smirking as her attacks suddenly got stronger.

            “I’ll give you credit Ying Yue, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not fond of you – I think my dear brother can do much better. Don’t you think Zuzu?” I jumped as she swung her leg, nearly burning my feet. And it was while I was jumping my gaze wavered, looking back at Zuko and Aang.

            Aang was sitting down on the ground, Zuko in front of him, shirtless. My eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what in the world was happening, but it didn’t take long. Zuko was crouched over Aang; his shirt ripped into shreds as he wrapped it tightly over Aang’s forearms. Aang burnt himself trying to block Azula’s flames earlier; I didn’t notice-

            “Focus on me, darling, or else I’ll go against the plan and kill you now.”

            Against plan? Azula pushed forward, my feet stumbling at the sudden movement. So entranced with making sure Aang and Zuko were alright I lost focus, and Azula wasn’t going to let that opportunity go to waste.

            My feet tangled themselves, gasping as I found myself wobbling side to side. Azula’s arms raised high into the air with a bounce, blue flames swirling as she came crashing down, and without thinking twice, I bent.

            The ice from the spears dissipated, water hurdling towards me, and right before Azula could land her flames; a shield of ice formed. The sheer force of her flames pounding above me had me dropping down on one knee. And as Azula watched with a look of disbelief, her flames evaporating into a mist, I pounced.

            My arms outstretched, water flinging forward and Azula mimicked my movements. Flickers of fire started to emerge from her hands, and in a risky move, I rushed to her – head-on. Azula’s brows furrowed together watching how I foolishly ran to her, and with an unanticipated twist, I let my fingers wrap around her wrists.

            Her skin was hot to touch, sweltering as I kept my grip firm. I bit my lip in discomfort, and with a squeeze, water rushed down my arms and encased our hands together. The flickers of fire that were starting to build in her grasp vanished and the burning sensation from touching her skin eased.

            Azula snarled under her breath, trying desperately to tug her arms out of the encasement, but I held my grip, the water preventing much movement on her end. And as I prepared to attack once again, black spots flooded my vision.

            My nails dug into her skin without much care, as the ground underneath me started spinning, a wave of nausea overcoming me. I puffed in pain as I forced myself to keep the water that tied us together stable. I can’t do this much longer-

            With a large intake of air, I kicked forward, letting the water tumble to the ground as she flew backwards. Her shoulders were slumped over as she fought to gain her balance after being shoved; while I struggled to stand. I could hear her fast breathing in the distance, but I rapidly lost focus. I feel so sick-

            My eyes shut closed as my hands cupped my head in pain. Gosh, it feels like Toph is hurling rocks at my head, cold chills running up my back. My knees buckled, and I groaned. Not now, not now-

            “I got you, babe.”

            A pair of arms wrapped around my body, hands falling over my own. The cold chills that ran down my spine disappeared, as he pressed me against his chest.

            “Zuko~.” I gasped, struggling to even out my breathing, wheezing. His fingers intertwined with mine, squeezing me against him.

            “Just breathe, follow my lead.” Zuko cooed into my ear, and I felt his chest rising and falling from behind me. My fingers cuddled his, trying to match his pace. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale-

            “That’s it, babe, slow and steady,” Zuko whispered.

            My body stopped trembling, hearing his soothing coos of encouragement. The ground finally felt steady, no longer moving and the wave of nausea easing off. Our breathing was in sync, sighing in relief as the throbbing in my head stopped - relief.

            My eyes fluttered open, gaining footing and no longer letting Zuko hold me for dear life. Azula stood in front of us, catching her breath as she scrutinized the way Zuko embraced me from behind.

            “Thank you.” I hummed, letting my body lax for a split moment. “Hate me as much as you want; I’ll still love you,” Zuko muttered under his breath, and I smiled softly. Gosh - I don’t hate you, you hard-headed dimwit, I’m just mad-

             “Good; so when I kill her, it’ll leave an ever-lasting impression.” Azula sneered towards us. In a flash, our bodies tensed, Zuko pushing me behind him in one fluid movement. But before she could utter another word, she was abruptly cut off.

            “How the legendary Fire Nation Princess has fallen. You call yourself a prodigy, yet she managed to tire you with only half her strength. Pathetic.” A voice taunted from behind her.

            The voice echoed in the barren space where we stood, a voice that was oddly familiar to my ears. It was deep, rough, almost strained as each word the man spoke felt heavy. Why do I recognize that voice?

            Azula stiffened in her spot, face red with infuriation as she twisted on her heel. “What are you doing here?” she snarled to someone behind her, hands balled into fists. Her composure, it was flattering entirely.

            “Doing your job; since you’re clearly incompetent of such a task.” The man snapped back.

            Who is this person? Why do I know that voice-

            I slipped past Zuko, running off to the side to sneak a peek around Azula – curiosity getting the better of me. Zuko swore under his breath, ready to pull me back as my arm slithered through his grip. “Yue, your damn curiosity is going to get us killed!” Zuko protested, but his voice trailed off as he saw the evident look of shock on my face.

            A towering man stood along the tree line, his figure looming over us and casting a monstrous shadow. It was as if nature itself could feel the menacing presence of his; the area around us vacant of all sound; no birds chirping or bushes rustling in the wind.

            And just like the first time we met, I gasped, awe-struck by those piercing blue eyes; void of all life. It can’t be- it can’t be him. As if the strange man could feel my gaze falling over him, his head tilted to the side, shooting me a spiteful grin, “Here to give back my handkerchief, little girl?”

            “Why?” I gasped, stepping forward, shaking my head in disbelief.

            Seeing him in the daylight, strolling headfirst as he cracked his fingers, one by one, made the hairs on my arms stand. He couldn’t be the same man from the beach; he couldn’t. The man on the beach was sweet; he comforted me.

            “I told you. One Day. That’s it.” He spoke, voice smooth as if he was trying to ease my nerves. As if the words he said justified everything that was happening. It was his birthday that day, that’s why he said he was good — that sick bastard.

            My hands dropped to my side, rage pumping. I trusted him; I let him in; he took advantage of me. “So you’re the one who planned this?” I cried. He almost hurt all those children, Kiyi; I’m going to kill him-

            “Yue stop!” Zuko shouted, grabbing my arms tightly, pressing my body against his.

            The man grinned chillingly towards Zuko, those thin lips of his pulling back. “Still with that boyfriend of yours, little girl?” With each word he stepped closer, brushing past Azula without a care in the world.

            “Who are you?” I yelled back, Zuko struggling to keep me still.

            My limbs thrashed under his unwavering grip, swearing under his breath at my unrelenting movement. Azula watched in astonishment at the conversation that transpired between us, an amused smile on her face, “You don’t know?”

            “I’ll give you a hint; rumours say he’s a Bloodbender, doesn't need a full moon. Aren’t you curious to know if that’s true?” Azula purred, and I felt my stomach in my throat. Zuko’s fingers dug into my skin; his breathing paused as he pressed his lips against my ear, “Run.”

            Zuko wasn’t pleading or asking – it was an order.

            I could hear the fear in his voice.

            The conversation between Zuko and the Earth King, the rebels, all led by one man; this is Yakone. The ruthless man who killed hundreds upon hundreds, the man who nobody could seem to capture, let alone see in person and live to speak of it.

            I could hear Aang stumbling his way to us, wincing at the pain in his arms. “Everyone leave, I’m going into the Avatar state-”

            “No Aang, you’re exhausted, you’ll hurt yourself.” I panicked, he’s going to push himself to the limit, but the look on Aang’s face was different from that friendly expression I adore. His face was stern, and despite the burns that lay on his forearms, he stood with Zuko.

            The grip on my arms loosened, Zuko pushing me behind him, eyes begging for me to run. But my feet stayed glued to the ground, trembling at the realization of the situation.

            Yakone chuckled as he watched the panic look Zuko and Aang wore, an expression I never thought I would see paint their faces. “What’s wrong? It’s only rumoured.” Yakone teased with a final step.

            His soulless blue eyes stared past Aang and Zuko, lining up with mine.

            I could feel my heart stop - as if time stood still. Yakone bore a sinister grin on his face before whispering, each word directed to me, and me alone.

            “I’m going to kill them the same way I killed Kayto.”

            His hands moved in front of his chest vertically, his stubby fingers beginning to curve. Every joint in his digits began twisting and contorting, movements that I was all too familiar with - Bloodbending.

            I squeezed my way past Zuko and Aang, their cries falling upon deaf ears.

            My hands swept the ground, drawing whatever moisture I could that was around us.

            The ground crumbled underneath our feet, untouched foliage began to rot, and the air was heavy to breathe.

            Black spots flooded my vision, body feeling numb as I bent with all my power -  body screaming for me to stop, but I pushed. I could die here, right now, but not them. I rose my hands upwards with fists, the water that began to pool around us, shooting in the air into frozen pillars.

            The ice began to frost, a wall of ice linking pillar to pillar. Yakone’s eyes widen at my movement and the speed at which the walls started to enclose around us. His fingers stopped curving, dropping to his sides as he watched the last window of opportunity freezing before him.

            Darkness fell over us in seconds, the walls of ice looming above, only sparse flickers of sunlight penetrating the thick walls.

            I dry heaved, coldness consuming my body. “Y-you can’t bloodbend if you can’t see your target.” I panted, face flushed as my arms fell to my sides. Yakone rose a brow, viewing our new surroundings with a touch of amusement in his eyes. “So you trapped yourself with me, in here? Foolish.”

            “I had no other option.” I blurted, frowning as I struggled to keep my balance. My legs quivered underneath me, body battling to keep me up and Yakone noticed. He scoffed under his breath, shaking his head at my crumbling composure, “Look at you, an utter wreck. Dying from the inside out.”

            “What do you want from me?” I gasped, eyes fluttering open and close. The last bit of energy I had was long gone, a cold chill starting to run its course. Azula was happy to see me, so that means that I somehow played a part in this messy plan of theirs; but how. My arms dropped to my side in exhaustion, taking deep breaths as I fought to think.

            “You can fix yourself. A flick of your wrist and the pain can go away…” Yakone spoke, his voice bouncing off the walls, buzzing in my ears. I grimaced, trying to ground my feet, toes pressing themselves against the sole of my damn house slippers.

            But it was pointless.

            My feet stumbled, knees bucking underneath me, before giving out completely. I shut my eyes firmly, ready to fall face-first into the dirt before a pair of hands gripped my arms.

            His palms were rough against my skin, grunting as he held me. And when I opened my eyes, surprised to have been caught mid-fall, I was greeted with a pair of striking blue eyes.

            Mom.

            They look just like moms.

            Her eyes were magical, glowing like crystal.

            Memories of her holding me in her arms before I fell asleep came rushing to my mind because it was always the last thing I saw before falling asleep at night. Her soft eyes, looking down at me, hands brushing the hair away from my face.

            Those blue eyes-

            “Who are you really?” I huffed, my hands falling over Yakone’s forearms. He didn’t shake off my grasp as I thought he would’ve done. Instead, his grip tightened, lowering me to the ground, until I was on my knees.

            His lips were pressed tight the entire time, not sparing me a single glance. And once I was firmly planted on the ground, his grip on my arms loosen, but he stayed crouched.

            A half-ass laugh escaped him, shaking his head before he finally grumbled under his breath, “I always hated that damn crane story.”

            “What crane story?”

            “You know which one; Lord of Cranes.”

            My hands dropped from his forearm, staring at Yakone with a blank expression. I didn’t even realize my eyes were watering until he spoke, brushing a single tear with his thumb, “Sorry, little girl. You took my only handkerchief.” 

 ~ Fire Lord Zuko ~

            Solid ice.

            It’s wasn’t some thin layer, easily broken with the push of a finger. It was well-made, sturdy enough to be the fucking foundation of a bloody house.

            My palms pressed against the block, the coldness causing my skin to tingle, trying desperately to see or hear something, anything at this fucking point. The frost prevented much light from seeping through, and I swore under my breath. I can’t see a damn thing.

            “The fuck was she thinking!” I shouted, punching the harden water out of frustration. My head hit the ice in defeat; shoulders slumped as no amount of heat seemed to work. My eyes shut, trying to push the worst-case scenarios out of mind.

            All I wanted to know was that she’s okay.

            I need her to be safe; in my fucking arms, with that innocent smile on her face, giggling at some silly joke. Yue always thought she was the needy one, but she was wrong, so fucking wrong. She didn’t know how I always thought of her, that I used every damn excuse in the book to hold her, touch her, to be in the same damn room as her.

            “Aang, can you bring this down?” I blew, turning on my heel to face him. But to my amazement, Aang was already in position. His burnt staff tied to his back, arms outstretched as he nodded, “Stand back, Yue’s ice is no joke.”

            Tell me about it.

            I shuffled backwards, getting out of the way before an agonizingly infuriating voice stopped us. Azula’s voice was like nails dragging on a chalkboard, a disturbing sound that I could go through the rest of my life never hearing again.

            “That’s my cue to go.”

            Azula’s hands combed through her lengthy hair, fixing her ponytail and brushing back all of the loose strands. She stood poised - as if she wasn’t getting her ass handed to her moments ago by Yue. That smug attitude of hers, if only-

            “What do we do Zuko,” Aang whispered, eyeing Azula and the wall of ice. The decision was easy, “Let her go; we need to get Yue out of there, now.”

            Azula rolled her eyes, hands falling onto her hips as she glanced to her side, where Yakone and Yue were. “Don’t worry; he won’t hurt her.”

            “And what makes you think that?” Aang responded, neither one of us trusting a word she said.

            A coy smile flashed, her pearly whites showing, before turning on her heel. “As I said before; the mother’s side is far more interesting.” She hummed, before disappearing into the trees, all traces of her gone.

            Aang stood there, baffled, confusion written on his face as he glanced towards me, “What in the world is she talking about…”

            “Ignore her; she’s crazy.” I muttered, and Aang nodded, “Agreed.”

            Aang dug his feet into the ground, shifting his attention to the real issue at hand. He let his hands sway side to side, and in one go; everything came crashing down.

            The sound of ice cracking and falling against the ground resonated through the forest, water spraying everywhere as I covered my face with my arm, “Holy- Aang, what the hell was that!”

            “I-I don’t know, that wasn’t me!”

            Wasn’t him?

            The air around us was illuminating as water floated in the air, reflecting the sun’s light. And if it had happened any other time, I would’ve admired the sight. “Do you see her?” Aang huffed, frantically searching the area where the encasement stood.

            “No, where could she-”

            My heart stopped.

            Yue sat on her legs; head hung low as her body shook, Yakone nowhere in sight.

            I could tell every breath she took was a struggle, her hands weakly dangling by her sides, hair covering her face. “Yue!” I shouted - sprinting. Please be okay; please be okay, please-

            Her head lifted slightly, eyes heavy as she shot me that soft smile of hers. “Zuko?” She whined, and in an instant I clutched her.

            My arms wrapped around her, drawing her into my chest as she trembled. She was shaking like a leaf as Aang watched over us worried, “Hey, babe, it’s okay- it’s okay. Don’t worry; I got you-” I hummed, a hand rubbing her back while the other tangled itself with her hair.

            “H-he knew the story.”

            “What story?”

            Yue’s head pulled back, her bottom lip trembling as her eyes brimmed with tears. “T-the story my parents used to tell me. The cranes, t-the reason I got the tattoo.” She blurted before stuffing her face once again into my chest. I cooed into her ear, trying to calm her, but my stomach was in knots. Yakone knew the story. How did he know the story?

            ‘The mother's side is always interesting.’

            ‘She’s a Bloodbender, ZuZu.’

            “Is everyone alright!?”

            Yue’s head popped out of my chest, eyes widening as she followed the voice, “Sokka!” She gasped cheerfully, a smile emerging as Sokka jogged towards us. My shoulders relaxed, seeing her smile so radiantly; she really is okay.

            “Holy, it seems like you guys had your hands full. What happened?” Sokka spoke, his eyes scanning our surroundings with an open mouth. And he had every right, the space where we sat screamed death. Not a single living thing remaining. The grass was burnt, trees around us rotten and mud started to settle from the melting ice.

            “Everything happened. Where were you?” Aang answered, flinching as he fixed the makeshift bandages on his arms.

            “Zuko was right all along, the moment I reached your soldiers, we bumped into a bunch of rogues. They were going to ambush; we managed to stop them and took most of them out.” Sokka spoke. I studied him, a few cuts and bruises along his arms, his clothing a bit tattered.

            “Princess, you saved my ass; twice.” Sokka beamed, crouching down to her level. She saved everyone’s ass today. Yue smiled, letting her head rest on my chest.

             “Where are my cookies?” she sulked, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at her response. My lips brushed her head, appreciating being this close to her. Safe.

            “Yeah, about that-” Sokka spoke, scratching his head with that cheeky smile of his. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to get up.”

            “Let me lift you; start walking home,” I whispered in her ear, my hands shifting her weight, and sliding effortlessly under legs. I can’t believe Yue was wearing house slippers this whole time. She’s nuts.

            “Do you have some whisky at this vacation house? After what just happened here, I need a drink.” Sokka groaned, rolling his shoulders back as I stood with Yue in my arms.

            Yue nodded in agreeance, letting her arms wrap around my neck. “We got bourbon or rye, take your pick,” I answered.

            “I’ll have both.”

            “Same here,” I muttered. A cold drink and a hot bath was exactly what I needed at the moment.

            “Save one for me too.”

            Everyone stopped moving, turning around to face Aang. Did he just-

            “Since when do you drink?” Yue blurted, unable to contain her outburst. But in all honesty, we were all flabbergasted.

            Aang shrugged his shoulders, walking ahead of us before waving away our disbelief, “Ever since that happened.”

            Sokka and I looked at each, before nodding in unison, “Fair enough.”

              The empty glass fell on the countertop, sighing a breath of relief as I downed the whisky. I knew whisky was meant to be drunken slowly, but I didn’t have the patience.

            “Holy shit. If I had known dating Zuko came with all these perks, I would’ve hopped on that way sooner.” Sokka blurted, looking around the place like a kid in a candy shop. I rolled my eyes at his expression, while Yue giggled on the couch. Aang already off to his guest bedroom, taking a hot bath.

            “Who would’ve known my competition would be Sokka.” Yue laughed, smiling childishly at Sokka’s remarks.

            I pinched my nose, “Second drink of whisky, here I come.” I grumbled, pouring the dark liquid to the brim and chugging.

            “Oh come on, it would be an honour to date me. You know we make a great couple.” Sokka insisted, wrapping his arm around me, and shooting me a wide smile. “Third drink of whisky, coming right up,” I announced, lifting the bottle towards them, and pouring into my empty glass.

            Sokka pulled away, acting as if I had hurt his ego with my remarks, hands over his chest. “You say that now, but we all know who the real power couple is, even if you deny it, Zuko.”

            While the temptation to slap Sokka across the head was overwhelming, seeing Yue laughing hysterically on the couch, happiness in her eyes made me hold back. It’s been a while since she smiled like that, letting go, not giving in to the troubles that were waiting for us. And if Sokka teasing me, like the joker he was, made her happy, even for a moment, I could suck it up.

            She took a short sip of her drink, before light patters caught our attention, “Enjoy your bath, Aang?” Yue hummed, brushing her hair behind her ears.

            Aang nodded, wearing some clothes that I lend him for the night. He looked fresh, an extra bounce in his step. It’s amazing how a hot bath can change a person. His hands fell over his stomach, nodding towards Yue before shuffling towards the kitchen area.

            “Exactly what I needed. I’m going to make myself a snack; anyone wants something?” Aang asked. The instant those words flew out of Aang’s mouth, Yue started shuffling herself off the couch, “Let me Aang, I can cook something up-”

            “Get your ass back on the couch.” I huffed, pointing at her and the couch in a flash. Yue pouted, and it took all the willpower in me to ignore it. She was too cute for her own good, and she wasn’t afraid to take advantage of that skill. “B-but-”

            “No buts.” I sternly spoke, eyeing her prudently. Aang rubbed the back of his head, laughing at the way Yue sulked. “Can you make me something? I’m going to take a bath, where’s my room, by the way?” Sokka asked, yawning and scratching his tired eyes.

            “I can show you-”

            “I swear I’ll tie you to the damn bed if you try to move again. Rest.” I growled as Yue made a dash to show Sokka his room. She was already standing up, legs getting ready to move until my voice made her stop in her tracks.

            “So, Zuko's into that type of stuff…good to know,” Sokka muttered under his breath.

            “Fourth drink it is!” I shouted, taking a swing straight from the bottle at this point. Sokka snickered, slapping my back before walking down the hallway, “Don’t worry, I’ll find it myself. I’ll look for an empty bedroom with a bed and bath.”

            Yue stood still, biting her lip as her fingers twirled around each other, itching to say something. “What is it, love?” I hummed, stepping forward to where she stood. Her eyes shifted downwards, as I stepped closer, before muttering, “I’m still angry, but I’m too tired to fight. So I decided that I’ll drown you tomorrow.”

            My hand fell over her head, laughing under my breath as Yue glared at me, trying her hardest to keep a straight face. “Tonight, let’s rest. You can yell at me all you want tomorrow, I promise.”

            Yue nodded, before slipping from my touch, and towards our bedroom, “I’ll get our bath and clothes ready.”

            “Our?” I inquired, a playful smile on my face as her face reddened.

            I’ll never get over the way she nibbles on her lip, battling her eyelashes as she turned on her heel, “Oh shut up, and hurry up before I change my mind.” She grumbled, before sneaking into our bedroom.

            My hands ran along my face and hair, letting out an exhausted sigh. What a fucking day-

            “You know, I thought she was going to kill you out there,” Aang muttered. I turned around, watching Aang make simple sandwiches for us to munch. “Yeah, I feared for my life too.”

            Aang snickered, shaking his head as he placed the sandwiches on a plate. “You messed up that bad, huh…”

            “I’m a man of politics, not relationships.”

            Aang stuffed a sandwich in his mouth, “And that, Fire Lord Zuko, I agree with entirely.”

            “How're your burns?” I muttered, and Aang pulled up his sleeves. His skin was clear, completely healed, not a single trace that his skin was ever burnt. “You healed it?” I asked, and Aang nodded. “Katara taught me some basic healing skills, comes in handy when she isn’t around and thankfully, it wasn’t that bad.”

            I nodded at his words, remembering the way Yue had healed my scar.

            It wasn’t a one-time thing.

            Almost every morning, before anything, Yue would ease the discomfort in my face. The creams and medicine didn’t come close to the amount of relief she gave me. My skin didn’t feel like leather, pulled tight around my face, and my vision on my eye got better.

            Thinking about the way her fingers grazed my skin, had me thinking once again, a question that I wanted to ask Yue days ago, but I chickened out and asked her about Mai. “Has Yue ever healed you before?” I blurted.

            Aang’s movements stopped, moving the sandwich away from his mouth and swallowing slowly, “Y-yeah. Maybe once or twice. She doesn’t like healing, and we always had Katara…”

             I nodded, walking towards Aang deliberately, studying the way Aang stir in his spot. “How did it feel when she healed you?”

            “Katara or Yue?”

            “Yue.”

            “Uhh, like how it always does, I guess,” Aang mumbled, swallowing hard. My eyes narrowed at his response, leaning on the kitchen counter. “Why are you asking Zuko…?” Aang whispered, his hands gripping the counter - fingertips digging into the marble.

            Because whenever Yue healed me, it felt different.

            Whenever Katara healed, it almost felt superficial. My muscles would ease; a soothing sensation. Recovering from the outside and working its way in.

            But with Yue, it felt deeper.

            The way her fingers glided against my scar, it felt like she was healing from the inside out. Controlling and re-directing the very way my body functioned. It almost felt like I gave up all control of my body, and while I trusted Yue with my life, it was a sensation I never felt before, or experienced, with Katara.

            Aang stared at me with his lips pressed tight, his eyes never wavering from mine. “You know why Aang, it’s different from the way Katara heals-”

            “Zuko, don’t.” Aang huffed. His hands gripping my shoulders abruptly, catching me off guard. “Let it be.”

            “What are you hiding Aang?”

            His Adam’s apple bobbed, brows pinching together as he spoke, “Yue loves you, and she would give up her life for you any day, and you know that.”

            I huffed under my breath, teeth grinding as I stared at Aang.

            I knew Aang was right, but that didn’t change the fact that he was hiding something from me. Something about Yue – something she was obviously keeping away from me. “Does Sokka know, Katara, Toph or Suki?”

            Aang’s eyes slowly closed, shaking his head before tightening his grip on my shoulders, “She trusted me, and I don’t plan on breaking that. But if you so dare try to accuse Yue of anything, I swear Zuko,” Aang started, his voice rising.

            “if you really love her, you’ll accept every part of her. The good and bad, just like how she loves you.”

            “You know I care about her Aang-”

            “Stop wasting your time here then, trying to get information from me, and spend time with her. She needs you, and you’re here accusing her of spirits knows what.”

            Aang released his hold and stepped back. “I’ve never met someone as sensitive, loving, or empathic as Yue, despite everything she’s gone through. And if you think for a moment she could hurt someone-”

            “I love her Aang, and I fell in love with her because of that. But if she’s hiding something, something that may put her in danger, I want to know so that I can protect her.”

            “Zuko…” Aang muttered under his breath, “She’ll tell you when she’s ready, but for now, trust her.”

            A clicking sound caught our attention, a door opening and causing Aang’s and I focus to shift. Yue leaned against the doorframe, her silky robe hugging her body as she smiled brilliantly, “Come on, Zuko, the bath is all set. I need that magical touch of yours to warm up the water.”

            Aang nudged me, staring intently with an unwavering gaze, “Coming, love.” I hummed with a smile, walking towards her, and letting her arms drape around my waist.

            I melted.

            My hand brushed her silky strands behind her ears, a pink blush tainting her stunning features, giggling softly under my touches.

            I was hopelessly in love.

            No matter how hard I tried to reason, think logically – it was like something in my mind switches when I was around her.

            I pulled Yue close, letting my lips brush against her forehead and closing my eyes. I felt safe with her. And if giving her time to open up, allowing myself to trust her with all my heart is what I needed to do - I’d do it.

            I’d do it all. 

Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.

Disclaimer: I do not own any Avatar characters portrayed in this story besides Ying Yue Jiang, Lia, Kima, and any future creations.

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[cami-chats]

My Blood Red Heart

Written for @marvelpolyshipbingo​

Rating: Teen

Warnings/Triggers: Winter Soldier/Red Room mentions

Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Bucky recognizes his forgotten soulmate while in the middle of a fight. Natasha saves him, they save the day, and Tony invites them back to the Tower. Falling for her was easy, so why not fall for him too? 

Square Filled: B2-Murder Strut

Read on AO3 or below 

The Soldier watched her run away, but there was no satisfaction in it, not when she was severely outgunned and still had the time to toss that fucking smirk over her shoulder as she went. She was the bigger threat. The target had gone down. He'd get back up, the Soldier knew that, but she could actually stop them if she wanted. She'd tricked him, and the only thing that had saved him was luck. She'd hit the glasses instead of an inch higher; that wasn't because of anything he'd done. 

His eyes followed her. She was taking a fairly straight path which would've been a mistake if she wasn't so obviously trying to prevent civilian casualties. "I have her," he said. If they went after her, they wouldn't even make it a full minute. "Find him." He vaulted over the concrete wall and landed on top of a car with a crash that made his legs ache for a moment. 

She ducked between two cars before he could raise his gun, and there were more cars on the other side of an overturned bus-- a miniature maze where the prize was pulling the trigger first. He strode to the other side of the road with sure steps, then slowed, glancing back and forth and listening for the smallest sound. She was too good to have loud steps, but he should be able to- he came to a stop. She was talking quietly, but it was enough. Calling for reinforcements wouldn't be enough to save her, but it could save the two men she'd been in the car with if the team accompanying him felt particularly useless today. 

He reached to his back with his left hand, fingers catching on a small bomb. He lowered himself and rolled it towards her, then straightened and raised his gun again; there was no way the bomb alone would kill her as she'd see it and dodge, but that would leave him with an opportunity. There was something familiar about her, more familiar than that shield the target had used on the bridge. His handler would mention it during the debrief, most likely, so he didn't need to think about it. The explosive went off and he tightened the gun to his shoulder, only to be thrown off balance when something hit the side of him and knocked the gun out of his hands. 

He didn't have the chance to get his feet under him before he heard the quick whir of a garrote wire, and he shoved his hand up near his neck. It just barely caught the wire in time, grinding against the metal of his hand, and as he tried to find his center again, the familiarity struck him again, more distinct than before. He stumbled backward and she hit a car with a grunt, but her grip didn't loosen. For a moment he tried to get the wire completely away, but the angle was bad and she had too much leverage where she was hanging off his shoulders. With his free hand, he reached up and gripped with the intent of throwing her over his shoulder. He started to, and then he froze, memories hitting him straight in the stomach like a brick. 

She fell barely a foot away from his aborted move. 

"Natasha," he gasped, and she stopped, half a second from throwing something at him. His eyes were wide, and he didn't know- what the hell was going on? He stumbled back half a step, bumping into the car again, and this time he didn't move. 

She got to her feet, still holding that small disc in her hands. Her expression was hopeful but her body language was wary, angled so that she could throw it at him and make a run for it if she needed. Smart, but she'd always been smart. "Yasha," she returned evenly. 

"What the hell is going on?" he asked, and he didn't even care how desperate it came out. 

She glanced over his shoulder nervously, then back at him. "Not now, we need to leave." 

He didn't know how to think about where he was or how he'd gotten to this specific point in time, but he could get them out. Leaving was easy. They started to run, moving together like no time had passed since they'd been on the same side. No words were necessary; when Natasha moved one way, he knew it meant they were about to take a hard left, and they moved in tandem. The deafening sound of a mini gun spitting bullets started, but it wasn't at them. She glanced towards the noise, slowly an almost unnoticeable amount. 

He grabbed her arm and made her keep pace, gruffly saying, "They'll be fine." The target was up, and without him the others didn't stand a chance. If they took too long, there would be news sites coming to film, and they wouldn't be able to kill him; they would definitely take too long, the idiots. 

They made it far enough away, he took off the mask, and she lifted a hoodie for him. In DC, there wasn't really such a thing as 'out of the way'. Where there wasn't video surveillance, there were guards, and most of the time there were both. So when they stopped to try and formulate a plan, it wasn't because they were completely hidden, it was because they were as out of the way as they could be. There weren't any safe houses that would actually be safe. Fury was dead-- god, Bucky had killed him, he hadn't thought about it at the time, but that had been the last major defense against Hydra and he'd shot that chance without a though-- Hill was in the wind likely dead, and Rogers and Wilson were the ones in need of rescue. 

Natasha let out a frustrated breath. "We need backup." But there wasn't any. 

"What about Stark?" 

Natasha looked at him sharply. "We aren't dragging him into this mess." 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, staring at her flatly. "Right. Hydra taking over won't effect him at all." He knew it had been a damn long time since he'd known her, but since when did she care about people this way? Stark could more than take care of himself-- the multiple failed assassination attempts by Hydra were proof enough about that-- and if he could take care of himself, there was no reason for her to be worried. No reason that Bucky could think of right now, at least. 

"We aren't in New York." 

"He has a flying suit," Bucky said drily. 

"We have no way of contacting him," she tried. 

Bucky held up a phone he'd swiped from someone's bag-- they'd survive, they had another one for some reason. Hoodie pockets were great. He also had a couple snacks in there, but they were for after Natasha made the phone call that would save their asses. He cared about whatever was holding her back, but not more than he cared about their lives. 

With a regretful sigh, she snatched the phone from his hand and dialed, the number clearly memorized to perfection even though she couldn't have had much cause to use it. 

It was several, long rings before Tony answered, a confused, "Hello?" 

"It's Natasha." There was a shy, hesitant quality to her voice, and Bucky wondered when he'd stop being surprised by things now that he was... himself again. 

A pause, then, in a tone too casual to be genuine, Tony said, "You know, there was some footage of that epic battle you just got into. I know some drivers can be dumb, but I think you took it a little too hard this time. You gotta learn to take deep breaths and let it go. Maybe we should pencil you in for some meditation time with Bruce. So Steve and that other guy-- you know, the handsome one in the green shirt, he looks kinda familiar, maybe he should drop by when all is said and done-- got taken in by some people in SHIELD uniforms, and you vanished. I'd be offended you didn't call me in to join the party, but I'm guessing that's what this is. Unless you wanted to RSVP for the New Years party. Six months early is a bit much, but you spy types are always on top of things." 

Natasha smiled, but her tone was clear of it when she responded. "Not sure about New Years yet, but we could use some support down here." 

"Already in the suit. Where are you?" 

"What, you can't trace the call?" 

"Not while I'm tracking the transport that has Stevie-boy in it. Am I grabbing him or you first?" 

"Him. Yasha and I can survive a little longer without you." 

"Who the hell is Yasha?" 

Natasha's eyes flickered to Bucky. "Long story." 

"Okay," Tony said, drawing out the second syllable to show how much he didn't like that brushoff. "This number good to reach you at?" 

"We'll hold on to it until we hear from you." Normally she would ditch it right away, but there was no point when they had no other way to contact him. 

"I'd tell you when to expect a call except I'm breaking my own safety protocols right now, so maybe I'll die in a fiery twist of metal like my nanny always predicted. Stay safe," he said, then hung up. 

"You're close," Bucky noted. 

"Not really," she said, but she had to know that he could tell when she was lying. It was probably a soulmate thing that he always knew when she was telling the truth and when she wasn’t, because she'd always been able to fool handlers. 

Bucky didn't say anything to that, just pulled a cap from his hoodie pocket and offered it to her. 

She put it on and looped her hair through the hole in the back. "I did a profile on him right after Iron Man. We talk, but he doesn't trust me." 

"Anyone other than me trust you?" he asked, arm around her shoulders as they started walking again. 

"A few people." The one that recruited her to SHIELD. Fury, before he had died, maybe Hill as well. Steve might. He'd seen something about the Avengers before, but they seemed more like individuals with a common goal than a team. The fact that Natasha hadn't automatically called them was proof enough that they weren't a team. 

*

By the time the dust settled, it was obvious that Hydra had counted on Iron Man being out of the way. Bucky could recall some of Hydra talking about the Mandarin and the aftermath keeping Stark busy, but he didn't think that was important to share. Iron Man was there, a hell of a lot more firepower and brainpower than they'd planned for. Fury was alive and Hill was with him, which explained where they'd been at the start of this mess. Well, Fury was barely alive. He'd kind of been shot to hell, and Bucky made eye contact with him exactly once to make sure he wasn't taking it personally. Maybe Fury trusted Natasha, but Bucky was part of the much larger group of 'everyone else' aka 'people he didn't trust'. 

It was ridiculously impressive how much everyone trusted Natasha actually. She might think she was untrustworthy, but everyone in the room believed in her. Proof? They'd all given Bucky suspicious looks and Stark had outright asked why they were trusting the guy that had been attacking them a couple hours ago, and all Natasha had to say was, "He's on our side," to shut them up. 

"Anyone need a place to stay?" Tony asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, "Of course you do. You-" he pointed at Fury and Hill "-lost your fancy carriers and compromised your entire organization. And you three-" Steve, Natasha, and Sam, but not Bucky since he'd basically been a Hydra attack dog "-lost your homes when they fucked up. C'mon, the tower's great. Pepper won't even be able to get mad at me for inviting all of you back." 

"Why would Pepper be mad at you?" Steve asked. 

"She doesn't like half of you. Natasha's her buddy, but she doesn't know Sam or Bucky. You SHIELD higher ups though, you're on thin ice. Something about paperwork and an inefficient organization, I don't really know." 

As they'd been doing all day, they just listened to Tony and followed after him. It was easy to do that when Tony was constantly proving to make the right decisions. Besides, who else were they going to listen to? Fury? He was the only other one with ideas, but right now he was bedridden, so his usual intimidation tactics didn't work. Plus he had a hell of a lot of work to do to rebuild SHIELD, and none of them needed to be there for that. 

Tony decided that instead of flying out to the Tower and grabbing the quinjet to get all of them, they were just going to drive. Bucky wasn't allowed, Sam refused, and Steve was banned from ever driving when Tony was around. Natasha could have, but Tony offered then went off to find a rental. Which meant that none of them got to complain when he showed up in a minivan with a gleeful smile. Of course, that did mean that no one sat in the front seat next to him since Sam and Steve had paired off and Natasha wasn't letting Bucky out of arm's reach. 

"This is fun," Tony said. "It's like I'm the mom-friend of the group. Wait until Rhodey hears about this, he'll mock you all silly, normally I'm the one that has to deal with that. And since none of you are in the passenger seat and get to complain, you have to deal with my music." He turned on something with lots of drums and screeching guitars, but after the first song he switched it to only be sounding in the front. 

The rest of them were silent for most of the drive. Steve was trying to process the fact that Bucky was alive but was nothing like how he'd used to be. They wouldn't be able to talk about it with everyone here, and that was if they talked about it at all. Bucky was closed off, silent and brooding. Natasha had mentioned the phrase 'tall dark and handsome' before, and he was pretty sure that was the category Bucky fell into now, as opposed to well groomed and a gentleman like he'd been before. 

Sam... well Bucky didn't know Sam all that well, but he was probably thinking about how weird it was that one day he'd been having breakfast and the next he was in a minivan with half the Avengers plus a newly retired Hydra assassin. That had to mess with anyone. As for Bucky and Natasha, well, they were used to not talking. 

"Sorry I ripped the steering wheel out," Bucky said to Sam. 

Sam grunted. He probably wanted an apology for trying to kill him, but Bucky would spend the rest of his life saying that to people if he started now so he didn't care very much. 

"He's grumpy because he hasn't had something to eat all day," Natasha said. 

"That sounds like an excuse to go to McDonald's," Tony called from the front, opting to yell over the music rather than turn it down. But he did turn it down when he got to the drive thru window because he was a nice guy. And because he was an even nicer guy, he got burgers for everyone, not just himself and Sam. But he was the only one that got a milkshake. Not that Bucky or Natasha minded, but he hadn't even offered. It was the principle of the matter. 

"Do they know about you?" Bucky asked her in a low tone. Steve, with his enhanced hearing, would've been able to make out the words if he spoke Russian. 

"No." 

"You going to tell them?" 

"It hasn't come up." 

Bucky snorted. Just because no one had directly asked her if she was enhanced didn't mean the topic hadn't come up. She was on a team with other enhanced people, they had definitely talked about it before. 

*

Natasha wrote down a quick summary instead of a full report. "SHIELD has bigger problems than the specifics of how they fell," was her excuse, and Bucky couldn't agree more. Steve, on the other hand, wrote down every little detail. He didn't send it anywhere, so it was likely a way for him to work through what had happened. Not that Bucky was around by the time he finished. Tony went to the kitchen then his workshop, and Sam stuck close to Steve's side. Whether that was because he was nervous or some other-- maybe soulmate related-- reason, he wasn't sure. 

Natasha either had a regular room she crashed in, or she just knew which rooms were available for use, because she dragged Bucky off to one of them without checking with Stark. She locked the door as soon as they were both inside, then pointed at a door off to the side. "If you want to get cleaned up." 

Bucky didn't, really. He didn't want to do much of anything because that meant dealing with everything he couldn't remember and what he'd missed. But he'd always been able to listen to her, and right now was no exception. He walked towards the bathroom and started stripping off his tac vest. All the knives and guns lined up on a side table by the bed-- less than he should've had, he was running low after the fight-- before he went all the way into the bathroom. 

Memories were like sand-- you thought it was all gone until you shifted and found some more. It wasn't much, just the feeling whenever he untied his boots and pulled off his pants; it had been a while since he'd been able to do this in private. After the Red Room, he'd been kept on a damn short leash. Hydra didn't know what to do with him after that. Going on ice had hurt and made it worse for their long term plans for him. Wiping him hurt, but it did help them out temporarily. He'd been a weapon. Not an assassin, not the Fist of Hydra like Pierce had taken to calling him. A weapon, meticulously cleaned and maintained. Slight chinks were overlooked because he had still been the best weapon they had, even dealing with the issues that consistently and continuously cropped up. 

The shoes had blood and dirt, and everything had been drenched in water at one point. Air drying was bullshit and made him feel crusty. He didn't really know how good laundry machines were, but the black of his pants covered any bloodstains that were there so it might not matter in the end. 

He stepped in the tub and turned on the water. Did he know how to work it? No, but it's not like hot water from a shower faucet could burn him. When the water first came on, it was freezing, but it turned warm quickly. Perks of using a rich fella's shower. He saw Natasha come in, and she closed the bathroom door. Her clothes really were ruined. She hadn't had her suit, so she was in the same clothes that she'd had on the interstate. Civilian clothes couldn't take a pounding for shit. The mud probably wouldn't come out, and the blood definitely wouldn't; as she undressed, she tossed the clothes directly into the trashcan. 

There was dirt crusted into her hair. She probably wasn't happy about that, said it reminded her of wading through a sewer-- Bucky never had asked why she knew how that felt when she'd been in the Red Room since she was eight. She joined him in the shower, sliding the distorted glass door across so they were closed off. She leaned her forehead against his back, neither of them moving. 

"Do we have any clothes?" 

"There are extras in the closet." 

She hadn't checked since they entered, so she must have known that from past experience. Bucky sighed, grabbing the soap and rubbing it quickly across his chest and under his arms. It smelled pretty and floral, and it felt far too expensive. In the past fifty years, he'd had the type of soap that his healing factor had to work on. Effective in cleaning, but it stung like hell. 

Natasha helpfully moved her head from where she'd been leaning against him, but otherwise she did nothing, enjoying the steam and the company. 

A minute later, Bucky tried to move out of the way for her, but she stopped him with a hand on his waist and a raised eyebrow. "You're not getting out with your hair like that." 

Like what? His hair was fine. 

Natasha rolled her eyes like she'd been able to hear that and grabbed a blue bottle from the shelf. She squirted some of the shampoo-- also floral, dear lord, Bucky was going to smell like a fucking bouquet when he got out-- into her hand and started lathering it into Bucky's hair. He closed his eyes, ostensibly to make sure none of it got in, and leaned into her hands. She spent more time massaging his scalp than was strictly necessary, but he wasn't going to complain and she wasn't going to mention it either. 

"Rinse," she said, so Bucky tilted his head back and started to work on getting all the suds out. 

And after that, it was only fair to do her hair for her too. They stayed in there for a long time, but the water didn't turn cold-- perks of staying with someone rich. It was a good thing that they had nowhere to go, because now he didn't have to ask Natasha if they could stay; they had to. 

Bucky dried off then collapsed on the bed without bothering to look for those clothes Natasha had mentioned. Chances were they wouldn't fit anyways. Natasha got under the covers next to him. Then she sighed. "I left the light on." 

Bucky got up before she could do more than start to move, and he turned the light off before going back to bed. The mattress was like a goddamn marshmallow, the sheets a higher thread count than anything he'd touched before, and the blanket was already warming him up. It would be wonderful if it wasn't so different that it threw him off kilter. He didn't bother staying there for long before he got down and laid on the floor. 

"Mm Yasha, what're you doing?" 

"Sleeping," he grumbled. 

She pushed herself up and scooted more towards his side of the bed, peering over the side at him. Enhanced eyesight was a perk of the serums they'd both been given. She couldn't make out his expression or exactly where his nose was, but she could see him. He was on his side, looking just as at ease as he'd ever been. Natasha liked the fluffy bed. What she would like even more, was to be next to Yasha while she slept; she always slept better when she wasn't by herself. So even though she'd been looking forward to an overly comfortable bed after months on SHIELD standard bedding, she got to her feet, pulling the blanket with her. 

Bucky lifted his head when he saw her moving, and he snorted when she laid down next to him. She was even nice enough to share the blanket with him. She wrapped an arm around his waist after she got all her hair out of the way. "Get some sleep." 

*

Tony felt like pounding his head against the wall. So he did. He was an absolute, complete, total idiot for falling in love with Natasha. The only interest she'd ever shown in him was when she'd been undercover, and she hadn't trusted him for the longest time after that. He tried so hard to let her know that she could ask him for anything, and he didn't even care that it came off as desperate because he was and she certainly knew that. 

The long lost Bucky Barnes and assassin for Hydra was her boyfriend. That was not as big a surprise as the guy being alive in the first place, and he cared more about the first part than the second because he'd already known that he didn't stand a chance with her. 

Thankfully, everyone had come back to the Tower with him, so he didn't have to do anything pesky like stalk them to ask what he wanted to know. He was going to make breakfast as a peace offering (and also bring Barnes clothes because he definitely did not have a bag with him, and no way in hell was he going to be able to fit in what Nat had). 

The only problem with this plan was that it was nighttime. Tony sighed and headed to the workshop. "J, set an alarm for six thirty tomorrow morning, I need to remember to order breakfast." 

"Of course, sir." 

"Thanks buddy." Tony walked through the doors, and DUM-E activated from his charging station, wheeling out with a questioning beep. "Don't worry, kiddo, daddy's going to get some work done. Back to sleep with you." 

DUM-E, of course, didn't listen, and instead went to finish arranging the spare parts Tony had around for the cars. Since he wasn't going to be in the way doing that, Tony let him have his fun and opened up a few internet windows. Time to get to work on that mess Hydra had made. 

The time flew by when JARVIS gave him the set alarm, and even though Tony wasn't anywhere near done, he figured a break to recharge couldn't hurt, especially when the dealings with humans were more time sensitive. 

*

They woke up when someone knocked on the door. Natasha groaned, then yelled, "What!" in the direction of the door. 

"It's Tony! I was hoping for a little breakfast, maybe some juice, maybe the explanation about how you know Cap's old buddy!" A pause. "Or how he's alive, that would be good too!" 

Natasha groaned, then yelled back, "We'll meet you in the kitchen!" She planted her face against Bucky's chest for a moment, then pushed herself up. "Do you have answers for him?" 

"You know as much as I do," Bucky mumbled, rubbing at his face. 

"Great," she said, stretching. There were clothes around here somewhere, she just needed to find them and hope they were big enough for Bucky to fit into. If not, well, he'd dealt with far worse than walking around in tight pants. As it turned out, there were only clothes fit to Natasha's size, and he wouldn't be able to squeeze into any of that. "I'll go ask Steve for some extras," she said, opening the door, only to pause. Right outside was a stack of jeans and a t-shirt. "Nevermind." She picked them up and turned back around, kicking the door shut. She tossed them at Bucky and he caught them, then slid them on. 

"I don't really remember Steve," he said, zipping up the pants. "I don't remember what I was doing on the bridge." 

"What do you remember?" 

"The Red Room. Some of our missions afterwards. I... remember they-" he stopped. They'd found out about him and Natasha, and they'd sent him away because both of them were too valuable-- too well trained-- to kill. After that, just shadows of what he'd done. It was like trying to remember the details of a book he'd read years ago. He remembered a chair with jolts of electricity, he remembered the new order of Hydra and how they'd tried to convince him he was one of them, and he remembered ice. Flashes that didn't make sense. He didn't really remember Steve. More like a memory of a story he'd heard once. That wasn't what Steve would want to hear, he knew that much. "I don't remember anything important," he ended up saying. 

She looked at him for a minute; she knew he was holding something back, but she didn't press him about it. And that, right there, was why they got along so well. He didn't want to talk about it, and she knew that if she waited long enough, he'd bring it up again. Not that he wanted to admit that he'd bring it up again, but, well, they both knew better. "We might as well go to breakfast before Tony thinks we abandoned him." She opened the door and Bucky followed her automatically. 

Tony was munching on toast when they came in, and he pushed the massive jug of orange juice towards them. "I always thought one vintage super soldier was enough for a group, but I guess I'll have to reconsider." 

Bucky shrugged as he picked up the jug. Natasha put a glass between him and the orange juice, so he redirected and poured some in the glass. "Hydra experiments," he said nonchalantly. He drained the glass, then refilled it. "Fucks with your mind sometimes." And that's all he was going to say about it. 

Tony must have picked that up, because he accepted it. "Yeah, fuck Hydra, I think that's something we can all agree on. Not that I really care," he lied, "but how do you and Natasha know each other? She never worked for Hydra." 

"A lot of organizations help Hydra without working for them," Natasha said, and that was all she planned on saying too. 

"Do all spies have trouble answering questions like normal people, or is it just the two of you?" 

"When was the last time Clint answered a question straight that wasn't about food?" Nat countered. 

"You've got a point, but it doesn't match my annoyance with you so I'm going to pretend it's not true." 

Bucky snorted. No one bothered to tell him the really good things. Natasha was here, and obviously that was nice, but couldn't she have mentioned that Tony was funny? He'd kinda thought coming here would only lead to avoiding Steve, not actually enjoying anything else. 

Tony had ordered in, so he uncovered one of the breakfast platters and took a little for himself, then pushed the rest towards Nat. Then he opened a completely full one for Bucky. He haphazardly tossed forks into the containers, but it didn't look like he'd be surprised if they shoved their faces straight in. Whatever, he was starting with bacon anyways, he didn't need a fork for that. 

"Steve's not an easy person to keep out," Tony continued between new bites and half chewed food. "You don't have to talk to him today, and not about anything important, but when he starts cracking heads in, mine will be the first to go. You may not care about that, but I don't have a healing factor so I'd like to avoid all this possible damage." 

"He wouldn't hurt you," Natasha said, rolling her eyes. 

"That's what you think; he likes you." 

"He likes you too." 

"Not as much. I think it's the hair, he prefers long and luxurious over well sculpted beards. I think it's a bullshit forties thing." 

"It's not," Bucky said. He didn't have any evidence for that, but he was pretty sure Steve had been unable to grow a beard for a while. After the serum that was probably fixed, but he wasn't over it. Or at least, that was his leading theory. Personally, Bucky had always liked a little facial hair. 

"Oh yeah? You like the beard?" Tony asked with a wink. 

"What's not to like?" he responded, and maybe it was a little too easy for him to say that. Natasha was too good to stare at him straight out for it, but he could tell that it perked her interest. 

*

"You like him," she said as soon as they were alone, back in the relative privacy of their room.

"You love him." 

They stared at each other. 

"I have a crush," he said softly. "He's handsome and doesn't look at me like he expects something." 

More silence. This should be the part where she admitted why she loved him. Bucky had never been the jealous sort, if only because that wasn't the sort of relationship they'd had. It had been intense and all consuming, but when she was working missions there wasn't room for that shit. 

"I don't care." It doesn't matter if she loved someone other than him, they were still together. Another bedmate, another partner... they still had each other at the end of the day, and that was the only part he cared about. "You love him," he said again, more gentle than before. Gentle was never something he'd been good at, but it felt like what the situation needed so he tried. 

Natasha swallowed. "Love is for children." And she'd never thought she had enough innocence to make it work. She didn't seem to realize that there was more to it than that. Oh when dealing with other people, she knew, but when it came to herself, it's like she forgot all the facts, all the statistics, all the reasons people behaved the way they did-- why she behaved the way she did. He understood it all too well, but that didn't mean he knew how to help. 

"Is that what we had?" he mused. "Love?" Like jealousy, they hadn't worked in terms of 'love', but that was a different time for them. Already, he was settling into old patterns. He didn't quite remember why or what those patterns were, but he could feel himself sinking into them. 

"Had?" 

Bucky shrugged. "Have. You can't tell me you know what we're doing." 

"We're... existing." 

"Then why would I have a problem with you 'existing' with Tony too?" 

"You're not jealous," she snorted. 

That didn't even require a response; of course he wasn't. "That's my point." 

She looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head. 

He didn't bring it up again. Not later that night, not the next day, not the next week, and not at any point in the next month when they stayed at the Tower without really meaning to. It's just that leaving would mean having to figure out what-- if anything-- they wanted to do other than clean up after Shield. Staying meant Natasha could go about her life almost as if nothing had changed, and Bucky was able to catch up with Steve and work out the stupid amount of energy he had; staying on ice and being half starved meant he was never restless, but Tony kept insisting that he eat until he was full and this was the result-- fuck Tony. 

So when Bucky finally got an official answer from Natasha, it was over a month after he asked. Bucky was sharpening knives in the living room, all of them spread out on the carpet next to him on the ground. She sat on the couch behind him and said, "You're right." 

Of course, he had no fucking idea what that meant, because they hadn't been talking about anything this could apply to today. "About?" 

"Tony." 

Unfortunately, that didn't clear it up for him. He said a lot about Tony, and he already knew he was right about all of it. 

They sat in silence for a minute before she elaborated. "How I feel about him." 

"Yeah." A month wasn't that long for an admission. Tony might disagree if they ever got around to telling him, but he was what, forty? Natasha was twice that, and Bucky was maybe older, depending on how you calculated it. 

"You like him too." 

"Course I do, I already told you that." 

"You said it was a crush," she said, and the implication hung heavy in the air. It had only been a crush when he said it, because he was Tony fucking Stark, and he was Iron Man, and he was gorgeous, and he'd seen shit but still grinned every day like it didn't matter. Tony made everything easy but let you pretend it wasn't, and Bucky fell for him in the same way. Cause honestly, who the hell saw the Winter Soldier and decided they could force him to go to a carnival just to hold all the prizes they won? Tony, that's fucking who. Not that Bucky had gone alone, he'd dragged Natasha along, ostensibly so he wasn't suffering by himself but she'd definitely known better and Tony probably had too. 

The slight tightness in his chest was completely irrational; Natasha already knew what it had become, and she was just as okay with it as Bucky was with her own feelings. It was a conditioned response to admitting anything he cared about though, so he swallowed past it and said, "Was." 

"Are we telling him?" 

The knife made a clear sound against the stone as he slid it along the edge. "Why bother?" 

"He... might be interested." 

Bucky hummed noncommittally. It's not that he thought she was wrong, but he didn't think it would go anywhere good. Tony was... different. He wasn't like them. He was a hero, they were ex-Soviet assassins that did good things mostly by accident-- well, he did, Natasha actually tried. And if he was interested and they did end up with it going towards a future together, Tony was still going to end up dead long before both of them. That wasn't something he wanted to get caught up in. It just... wouldn't be worth it. Tony was worth a whole goddamn lot, but Bucky didn't want to invite that kinda heartbreak. 

Sometimes it felt like Natasha could read his mind, because she leaned forward, hair swishing against his ear and pressing a soft kiss to his temple. "You-" another kiss, this time to his cheek "-are so-" a kiss to his jaw "-stupid." 

"Thanks?" 

"If you don't have a good reason, we're telling him." 

"And if I say it makes me uncomfortable?" 

She kissed his cheek again before leaning back to her former position. "I would say you're lying and that means I don't have to listen to you. So don't try that." 

"Could I say anything to stop this?" 

Natasha curled a hand up his next to tangle her fingers in his hair. She scratched lightly at his scalp, and he stopped trying to sharpen his knives to enjoy it. "I'm not trying to force you into this. But I thought it was something we both wanted. I've seen the way you look at him, and there's no reason he wouldn't fit between us." 

"Don't say it like that or he'll think you mean sex." 

"Is that a yes?" 

"You know it is." 

Natasha hummed. "I suppose we'll have to plan how to ask him." 

He picked his hands back up and went back to work. "You're overthinking it. We ask him to dinner as a date, and that's our answer." 

*

"Tony, would you like to go to Geraldi's tonight?" Natasha asked. Tony was hunched over the shop's table working, Bucky was working on one of his cars, and Natasha was stacking the items in the fridge until Bucky wanted help. 

"Sure." 

"As a date?" 

Tony's head popped up, frowning. He looked at her, then Bucky, then back to her. "Uh. Did I miss something?" 

"Not as far as I know," Bucky said from where he was putting a muffler together. 

"Okay," Tony said slowly. 

"Great! We'll leave here at seven." 

Tony opened his mouth to say that that's not what he'd meant, but he closed it a moment later, frowning. "Seven, got it." He'd figure out what was going on later. For now, he was going to finish what he was doing. As for later, he was going to enjoy dinner when it happened because he fucking loved Geraldi's, and he wasn't going to let the impossibility of it being a date ruin the food. 

Bucky said something, but it was in Russian, and all Tony knew in Russian was 'more vodka' and 'take me home'; it hadn't really been a problem until now. "That wasn't very clear." 

"It was clear enough." 

Bucky snorted, and Tony looked over in worry. "Not you, doll. Tricking him into saying yes does not count." 

Natasha scowled at him. "I'll make it clear over dinner." 

"I thought we didn't want him to misunderstand. He'll think that's sex." 

Her scowl deepened. 

"Is something wrong?" Tony asked, concerned. 

"No," they said together. 

That did not make him feel better. He sighed and went back to what he was doing. It wasn't exactly soothing, but it was something to do other than worrying about whatever the hell they were talking about. 

*

Tony drifted off to sleep, and Natasha looked over to see Bucky glaring at her. 

"What?" she hissed. 

"You said he wouldn't misunderstand," Bucky accused. Quietly, of course, because he didn't want to wake Tony up. 

"And he didn't!" 

"You're not supposed to have sex on the first date, even I know that." 

"Don't be so judgmental, lots of people do that. And we've known him for a while, so it's hardly a first meeting. We went on a date and then we came home and had sex, that's a perfectly reasonable first date when we've been friends for so long!" 

Bucky's glare deepened. "Wait and see, tomorrow he'll wake up and try to sneak off." 

"No he won't." 

"He will. He thinks it was a one night affair, you don't stick around after those." 

"We're in his bed!" 

"And that won't stop him!" 

They stopped having a whispered argument over his body as they switched to just glaring at each other over his body. If he woke up right now, he would get quite the view. 

"Go to sleep, Yasha." 

"We fucked this up," Bucky grumbled. 

"If he tries to leave, lay on top of him." 

"What? Why can't you do it?" 

"You way a hundred pounds more. Don't be a baby," she said, then laid down so Bucky couldn't argue with her further. 

"Hmph." He laid down, curling into Tony's warmth. It was easier to do with Natasha since she knew he wanted that and could accommodate it, but after curving in as much as he could without achieving his goal, he hoped Tony wouldn't mind if Bucky rearranged him a little. Pick up an arm, slide under it, wiggle a leg between his, and Bucky finally felt situated enough to relax. 

*

Unsurprisingly, he was right, and he gave a pointed look to Natasha-- that she rolled her eyes at-- before dragging Tony back down onto the bed. "Where ya goin'," he mumbled. 

"Uh," Tony blanked at first, clearly not having expected to be caught, "the 'shop? I've got a couple projects I need to work on-" 

"Liar," Natasha muttered. Her voice was low, but still loud enough that Tony could definitely hear. "You were running away for no reason." 

"Oh there's a reason, and I think it's pretty obvious what that is. So if you'll just," Tony trailed off, trying unsuccessfully to dislodge Bucky's arm around his waist. 

"As the one that got us into this mess Natasha, you have t' fix it." Plus he was tired and words were hard to form. He could totally kill someone right now, but have a heart to heart? That was beyond what he could do this close to waking up. 

"If 'fix it' is code for kill me, you really really don't Natasha. We're friends, aren't we? You wouldn't kill one of your friends." Tony's voice was half joking half panicked. 

"What the idiot means is that last night was a date. As a precursor to other dates until you're comfortable with letting us call you our partner." 

Tony blinked. "What." 

"Like dating one person, only instead of one person, there's two of us." 

Bucky snorted. "Eloquent." 

"If you're not going to do better, shut it." 

"Three person relationship instead of two?" he offered, then yawned. 

"This isn't a joke, right?" Tony asked. "Cause if it is, it's mean and you should confess right now before I get it into my head that this is actually happening." 

"It's happenin' now will you go back to sleep?" Bucky grumbled. He only wanted one more hour, that wasn't so much to ask in his opinion. 

"What Bucky means is that no, it's not a joke. It's a serious offer, and you can think about it for as long as you want. If that includes some time alone right now, you can take it. If not, then pull the covers back up because it's getting cold." 

Tony did nothing for a long moment, then pulled the blanket up. "You are two very confusing people." Another pause. "I feel like I'm going to regret this, but not as much as you fuckers will." 

Natasha smothered her laugh, then spread her hand over Tony's chest. "Noted." 

"You can't make me regret anything more than I already do," Bucky claimed, yawning again. 

"I was making a joke, and you just break my heart," Tony said. 

"I'll try not to." 

[anxiouslyfred]

Uncontrolled Daydream Mode

Summary: We’ve seen what an ideas generating ‘daydream mode’ looks like in Thomas’ videos but this is what happens when he’s actually just daydreaming and everyone in the mindscape is impacted.

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, spiders, brotherly anxceit

When Thomas and Roman give in to daydreams chaos usually ensues for the inhabitants of the mindscape.

With luck, all that would happen would be a few of the shorts characters or Cartoon Therapy characters manifesting and getting in the way for a while. That was a rare occurrence however and Logan could only pray for it as he saw flowers weaving around Roman’s door.

Seeing Patton hovering by the ceiling on doves wings quickly dashed those hopes however. “Pat, are you able to come down from there?” He queried, heading to get some coffee and watching out for Roman

“Not yet. He summoned spiders earlier.” His voice was steady so either the spiders had been vanished or at least scattered out of view a while ago, Logan assumed.

“Is it fright or Roman keeping you up there then?” Logan checked before freezing himself as he rounded the counter.

Virgil was sat cross legged on the floor, looking utterly entranced at several spiders over his arms and shoulders. Logan must have made some noise of concern at recognising a species or two of the spiders as Virgil glanced up. “He can’t summon anything truly harmful, L. Don’t look so worried.”

“Is this something that the daydreams have caused or do you simply have an aptitude towards arachnids?” Logan straightened his tie, taking a step backwards while trying to act like he’d had none of the concerns Virgil suggested.

“Well I do have a few of them in my room. I figure it’s just because they cause Thomas some anxiety that they originally appeared, but now they’re basically pets. If Ro keeps these around, I’ll keep them too.” Virgil muttered, glancing back into the living room. “Looks like he’s coming downstairs again regardless.”

Following Virgil’s gaze, Patton and Logan could see the banister shifting to golden spires with a woven band connecting them. The carpet had already changed to be a red velvet which rippled out to also cover the living room.

When Roman emerged onto the stairs, his outfit was utterly different to his usual one; chain mail armour was covered with a red cotton embroidered with his insignia in gold.

“Ah, Court Adviser Logan, you have arrived.” Roman decreed upon spotting him. “Have you managed to find any information on the beast plaguing the kingdom?”

Logan blinked, making sure to keep the table between them in a futile hope it would prevent the daydream from affecting him. “Can you remind me of what type of creature it is, please Sire?”

“Well, one of the villagers said it had two heads, another insisted on far too many legs, while all of them reported it flying.” Roman mused, his absent expression, ever present for daydreams growing stronger if it could as he focused on the daydreams story.

Alarm however was growing in Logan and Virgil’s expressions as their eyes darted between the spiders, Patton’s wings and each other. Virgil’s final glance at Roman had him slumping a little and gently folding his hands around his neck, trying to disturb his spiders as little as possible.

“Was there any mention of what the heads looked like? It would assist me in locating the mythology it originates from.” Logan tried, hoping they could learn with more evidence who might find themselves with an extra head.

So focused were the trio on Roman that Deceits entrance and frenzied looks around the room went unnoticed as the Prince began to speak. “Well, it had dark eyes on one head, bright yellow-green on the other. The dark eyes were in a serpents head as well, I’ve been told.”

“I’m right here and my eyes are the other way round!” The snapped words made everyone jump and an even more worried gaze from Virgil as they turned to Deceit.

“He wasn’t talking about you. Welcome to daydream central, Deceit.” Virgil snarked back, murmuring to Logan and Patton at their bewildered glances, “We don’t get affected by this when Thomas is denying us or doesn’t know about us.”

As Virgil stood, still moving slowly to keep the spiders calm, Patton backed into the living room, finally landing and Deceit crouched, curling into a corner of the room as though to get away from everyone while staying with them, shrinking into himself. “You really might be best just hiding in your room, Dee. If you think it cause I don’t want you around, would I say that, when it just makes you stick around more? Roman’s influence is weaker in our rooms so it’s less likely to affect you there.”

“I don’t recall you being this upset when Thomas went into daydream mode after you joined us.” Logan observed, recognising that Deceit was beginning to hyperventilate but unsure how to react to the dark side to help.

Virgil however, barely spared him a glance, heading towards Deceit. “You wouldn’t have. I’m good at hiding it, or myself when I want to.”

As he honed his focus in on the Deceitful side, Dee started clutching the right of his neck and the side of his face. “Deceit, I need you to breathe for me, just follow my pattern.” Virgil’s voice was steady as he took the others chin in one hand so their eyes would meet, a spider crawling over it to Deceits left shoulder as he did so.

“My neck! What’s happening to my neck?” Deceit gasped out, clawing at it until Virgil managed to pull both hands away with his free one, though no more of the spiders on him moved more than needed to stay in their spaces.

“Thomas and Roman are daydreaming, which means a lot of strange things are happening here, including transformations. It looks like you’re growing a serpents head. No, keep breathing with me. It will only be temporary. Come, on, breathe in for four counts.” Virgil’s voice remained calm and patient as he talked Deceit through his breathing techniques, confusing Logan and Patton further since they rarely saw this side of Virgil and never in regards to any dark side.

Deceit was gazing at Anxiety like he was his saviour. “But it hurts.” he muttered, like a lost child would.

“Unfortunately I can’t help that. It seems to work based on how liked you are. I’m sorry Dee.” Virgil’s voice quieted to soothing indiscernible whispers after that, only a dark flicker of his eyes to Roman showing the memories and history they usually ignored.

By the time the serpents head had fully formed, Virgil was cradling Deceit in his lap, looking more like a father than Patton ever had, even with the spiders still climbing over the pair of them. Patton and Logan had left them and Roman in the living room, supposedly to make lunch since they all knew the creative side would only acknowledge them if they fit a role in his dream and be hungry when he came out of it.

At the sound of a sword being drawn though, Virgil could only pray they’d intervene and help him. “Villain, you’ve plagued my kingdom for the last time!” Roman declared, weapon pointed directly at Deceit, even as Anxiety moved them to be between them in a crouch, hissing back.

“Don’t talk to be of villainy, Prince, unless you’ve finally routed it from your ranks.” He snarled back, ignoring the hands now clutching the back of his hoodie and heads on his shoulders.

His opposition was unexpected enough to have Roman blinking, torn between carrying the daydream on and coming out of it from confusion. “There’s never been any villainy amongst my knights.” He tried arguing, even as Logan and Patton dashed in, having heard the exchange start.

“Perhaps, my Liege, we might solve what has been plaguing the kingdom by discussing what’s ailing the aggressor instead of fighting it.” Logan suggested, only the title offered to Roman really acknowledging he still saw it as daydream mode. They all knew  the consequences could be dire if Roman came to blows against Virgil while one was daydreaming and the other quite visibly in his original mindset of Anxiety and needed to avoid it.

Roman scoffed again, though his expression was beginning to clear even more. “The fiend should have done that before attacking my people.”

“Perhaps you’ve not given him a chance to do so. You seldom meet with your people, Prince Roman.” Patton tried to soothe, looking torn between offering comfort to the pair he most often thought of as his children and avoiding the creepy crawley death dealers on them.

Them all reasoning against his daydream seemed to be enough to finally end it and Roman’s sword dropping followed his expression clearing to curiously look at how the room and people in it had been changed this time. “Why do you look like you’re protecting Deceit, Virgil?” He asked, frowning at the only thing he couldn’t understand happening from the story he’d lived, while almost everyone else let out relieved sighs.

“Because I don’t plan on letting him go through the same crap I did alone. Any clue on how long the daydreams are going to stick around?” Virgil explained, his tone sharp, though he was taking a few deep breaths, reminding himself that he’s friends with them all now and doesn’t need to be on guard and scary constantly.

“You’re literally being cuddled by someone you normally can’t stand, but my daydreams are what concerns you?” Roman bristled before concentrating again. “Probably an hour or two.”

The mention of how disliked he was had Deceit’s serpent’s head hissing softly before he finally spoke up, “Totally feeling safe around you three. Wouldn’t you prefer your brother to be supported than alone?” 

“We don’t really work family ties here quite like we did in the subconscious, Dee, just Patton trying to be everyone’s Dad.” Virgil murmured, turning enough that he could wrap an arm around Deceit and subtly check his temperature. “There’s not really the need when we’re trying to work together for Thomas’s best interests.”

The light sides were all in various states of confusion and growing understanding of the pair before them. “We used to argue over the most ridiculous things with Shai when we were teenagers.” Patton mused aloud.

“Or just stop talking to each other for no reason sometimes.” Roman added, “You were so hurt and confused a few times that happened.”

“Perhaps I should do some research into negative brotherly or sibling relationships.” Logan pondered, still thoroughly confused by the current change in the usually hostile pair, still latched to each other on the floor.

Virgil just snickered a little at their comments, tightening his arm and wrapping the other around Deceit too. “We class each other as brothers who hate each others views of the world. For now I’m going to get Dee to his heating rock. This daydream has decreased his already lowered ability to regulate body heat.”

Moving both of them must have taken his concentration since spiders scattered as they sunk out. Logan and Roman jumped and started reaching for either weapons or a way to contain them as Patton shot to the ceiling all over again.

“How long did Virgil have these on him?” Roman exclaimed, trying to herd them together, since creatures dying upset Patton nearly as much as spiders do.

“You’d summoned them before I came downstairs so I’m uncertain. Deceit came down about 5 minutes after me, just as we were trying to learn what else might happen.” Logan called, fetching a large bowl from the kitchen as he spoke.

Roman let out a humm as he finally gathered the spiders close together enough for the bowl to be placed over them all. “That was a new way to be brought out of a daydream though; one of you derailing it and the others suggesting different ways the dream could go. It might help if you need to end one in the future.”

[angel-scythe]

Sheet of Ice : Chapter 06

I almost forget but I didn’t !!!

Here is my chapter of HankGav and I hope you’ll like it very much!

Thank you for your support!

As you know, you can smash my door |   °| or just keep reading!

Hank felt weird to be in this room and Connor felt weirder to be in a bed with fresh covers and they were well tucked around him. Cole’s stuff was still there but pushed away to avoid anything to be broken. Sumo was in the entry, waving the tail as he looked toward Connor who felt uneasy.

“What should I do?” the Android asked. He glanced toward the door.

“Just let him do… I guess I bit him a little bit too hard. Since he wanted to act for you and you touched him, he certainly started to see you as his child. Even if he doesn’t like being as such, he’s still what he’s… and he doesn’t have someone to take care. So… congratulations, Connor. You’re our son!”

“But he has you,” Connor said.

“Yes. But I’m his mate, not a baby.”

“I’m not a baby…” he muttered.

“You’re three months old,” he laughed.

Connor looked to the door.

“I’ll be happy to help but… I though he hated me?”

“He’s a bit harsh, it’s right, but he’s not mean. He’s just not like the others…”

“And you like that in him,” Connor smiled a bit.

“Yes. A lot. And when you came in the precinct, he’ll start his heats soon. He hates them and becomes bitter when they’re coming.”

“Okay.” Connor smiled when Gavin came in the room.

“Do you have everything you need?” the man asked. He went toward Cole’s stuff to move it with the greatest care.

“Yes, thanks to let me be there.”

He came near him and sat on the edge of the bed. He passed his hand on his hair.

“You probably don’t sleep so just do what you want to stay busy. Do you need books?” He saw Connor looking something and turned his head. “You want Sumo to come? Normally, he can’t stay in the room.”

“It’s okay. You did a lot for me already. Thank you. I know it’s a special place for you. You both.” He looked toward Hank.

“It is but I don’t want you to stay in the bathroom. It’s not good for you. I’m not sure so much humidity is good for you. I’ll ask Eli’ tomorrow.”

“I’m waterproof, don’t worry.”

“Okay. Have a good night, Connor.”

“Good night, sleep well.” Connor couldn’t help but smile when he got a cute kiss on his cheek.

Hank came near him and caressed softly his head before coming out the room. He let his ex-boyfriend, or boyfriend, closing the room and when he had done it, he took him by the waist, bringing him against his chest, kissing the mark coming a bit ugly because he was quite aggressive with him.

He lifted him but when Gavin passed his legs around his waist, the weight brought him backward. Quickly, the Detective threw his arms to prevent hem to fall, thanks to the wall. He, then, came down.

“Sorry.”

“It’s nothing. I’m not as strong as before.”

Gavin took his hand to bring him toward their room. Hank used to come here often, to take some clothes and to smell the perfume that never left.

“I’m sorry.”

The Detective reached the scar on his neck and Hank took his wrist, keeping his hand on his.

“No. Because Connor called you. It’s your day with Elijah, isn’t it?”

“Beware, you’re acting jealously,” Gavin teased.

Hank brought him toward the bed.

“Just a bit. I don’t want to share you.”

“I know. And, ya know, it’s everyday, now. The show was so popular they cast it every night and Eli’ still love it too much.”

“It still pisses you off?” Hank asked, unfastening his shirt. He sat in the bed and Gavin came near to him.

He took off his shoes and bent to kiss the tattoo on his chest. The man caressed his hair.

“Still is.”

Hank took his face between his hands and looked him right in the eyes.

“Don’t look me, sleep. You need to sleep, I’ll watch you.”

“You need to sleep too. Watch your face.”

“Pretty a mess, right?”

“You’re beautiful. And you need to rest.” Hank laid and opened his arms to him.

“If I say no… You’ll make me?”

“Gavin…” Hank sighed.

The Detective looked him right in the eye and the man forced him to lay against him. But this time, Gavin didn’t fight.

“I won’t apologize.”

“I know.”

“I had to. You’re mine. And I can’t bore the simply idea to someone laying in the bed I laid with you. Laying in the bed I made you mine so many time… the first time.” Hank started to kiss the mark. “If you pretend to be an Alpha, you must know that. The feel of territory. The need to prevent it from anything.”

Gavin pouted, not liking how the man talked to him.

“You let me give Cole’s room to the boy.”

“He’s our son. You bore him and you have the strongest need to take care of what touch our child. If you chose to give something belonging to our child to someone, I yield. That’s how it works.”

“Don’t give me lesson…”

A new kiss went on the mark.

“I…”

“Please,” Gavin cut. “I was well enough phcking humiliated.”

“Don’t feel it that way, please. I love you.”

“And I love you too but it’s phcking humiliatin’.”

“I didn’t mean too, you know it.”

“Yeah… It’s like… You want me back so you want me ready to yield to you. Just a kind obedient dog. I though you loved me because I was different.”

“I’m not different. That’s the problem.”

“You are… Hank, you’re amazing.” Gavin straightened a bit and put a kiss on his cheek. It felt weird because now it was almost shaved, hair having come back during the day. “I’m pretty sure you’re unique. Who will stupidly wait for the return of his lover? You. Nothing forces me to come back… Nothing forced me to choose you over Eli’.”

“You chose me over him?”

Gavin smiled, seeing him so happy for that.

“Yes,” he said against his lips. “Now, sleep. Go in a world where you can kick Eli’s ass without me stopping you,” he teased.

“Okay. But… stay?”

“I’m there.”

“And…”

“Yes?”

“If I go to AA, just to see, you’ll accompany me?”

“Yeah,” Gavin replied. He pressed a kiss against his lips.

“Thank you,” said Hank caressing his back.

He was glad to have him. While three years, his live felt empty, really empty and he didn’t have anything to stay alive except a lack of courage, or too much according to Gavin, and now… maybe he could go on.

He closed eyes and, having the man he loved on him, he hoped to fall asleep.

 November 19th 2038

 As it was seven hour exactly, Connor went out slowly of Cole’s room. He was waiting since a moment and was already dress up. Since he didn’t need to sleep, he just looked for information and observed the area. He didn’t move anything. He didn’t want to. He was too afraid to touch something he couldn’t.

Now, dressed, ready, he passed in the corridor, near Sumo. He then crouched to caress him softly. He put a kind smile on his head.

“Hello, you.”

The St-Bernard woofed happily and waved the tail.

“Connor?”

“Yes?” The Android got up and went to the kitchen where Gavin was cooking.

Soft smell came from there and melted to create a new one. It was almost impossible to know what exactly but that looked good.

“You passed a good night? The bed was good enough? What did you do, if I may ask?” Gavin was stirring the pan.

“Of course you can. I had a good night, I think. I worked on different case, just to do something. Tina’s case will be a success if her plan is followed, if you like to know. And, yes, the bed was good. Thank you again to let me be there.”

“Thanks. It was normal.”

Connor approached and looked the furnaces. On the fire, he saw crumbled eggs with tiny green bit, bacon, sausage and the percolator, just near everything.

“What do you think? Waffle, pancakes, quiche or egg muffin?”

“Pancakes?” the Android said.

Gavin wanted to take the percolator but he has a lot to do. He could melt quickly the ingredients but he must watch everything. And the coffee was almost finish but… something rummaged on his guts and he took care of the pancakes.

“Let me help, Detective Reed.”

“You can call me Gavin, ya know.”

“Okay.” Connor was surprise when he felt a hand on his hair.

Uneasy, not use to that, he took the percolator and poured dark liquid in a mug then added a bit of milk and two sugars. He gave the drink to Gavin whom thank him. The man took a sip and went back to the pancakes.

“You’ll eat all of that?”

“Of course, no. It’s for Hank. He’ll be up soon.”

“But Lieutenant Anderson doesn’t wake up at this time…”

“Well, I’m there so he will.”

“The breakfast looks yummy but quite rich?”

“Well, it’s a bit rich but he likes that and if you let him have something a quite fat, he’ll take vegetable and fruit you gave to him.”

“Oh… I never thought about that… I tried to push him to eat healthy but he didn’t want to. He wanted his cheeseburger everyday…”

“I let him have one per week. Two sometimes.”

“You seem to do great with him.”

Gavin looked a pancake as he started to turn gold.

“Well… It’s my role,” he said.

His tone was quite tense. Connor looked him, worry for him. He hesitated and, then, spread the arms.

“Gavin…”

“Yeah?”

“I…”

The man didn’t have turned toward him and Connor felt weird, awkward.

“Can I have a hug?”

“A hug?” Gavin turned the head toward him and saw the arms opened. He smiled a bit and took him against his chest, caressing his hair with softness.

First, Connor wanted to ask things but then, he decided he won’t. He didn’t want to hurt him. In fact, it was quite fine to receive hug from Gavin. Who could believe that?

“Feeling better?” the man asked with a soft voice.

“Yeah. Really better.”

Connor hesitated because he didn’t want to judge him or put it uneasy. Hurt him? Gavin wasn’t the guy he thought he was. Hank said it was because of the heat but, truly, the Android wasn’t sure. It was obvious, Gavin had a strong will and didn’t like to show any weakness. He seemed to truly want to install space between them. However… he could remember how Gavin acted when he said to him he has been removed from the case and needed to leave. He didn’t look happy and was quite neutral when he finally stayed. He did it for Hank because he didn’t know what to do anyway. Hank needed to be with someone he looked and he didn’t think a lot. Being with Hank seemed to be good.

“So…” Gavin flipped a pancake then caressed softly Connor’s hair. “You want to take care of the breakfast or wake up Hank?”

“At this hour?”

“Yep.”

“I can take care of the meal.”

“Afraid to wake up Hank?” Gavin teased.

“No! But I’ll be glad if you have another tip for me to take care of the Lieutenant. Since… You’ll not come again, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. But I’ll come back again, don’t worry.”

Connor couldn’t help but smile as he reached to take the spatula. Gavin let him take it and moved toward Hank’s room. Even if it was the start of Winter, the man was wearing only his boxer however, he had a long sweatshirt, the same that yesterday, on the back. So, it seemed he was cold after all.

The Android wasn’t really fond in love but as long as Hank and Gavin will end up happy, he will be too. And since he was alone in the kitchen now, he took a tiny piece and bacon, blow on it and called Sumo to give it to him.

Well… maybe it was for a reason if Gavin mistake him for the kid he needed to take care.

[mybullshitsensesaretingling]

Odds Are

Request: Could you do one with Bones x reader where the reader gets hurt in battle and Bones saving her. Just a lot of fluff! Thanks!❤️ @caaptain 

A/N: There’s something about Bones that makes me wanna put him on a shuttle and have something go horribly wrong

“Are you making any progress at all?” Leonard’s irritated voice sounded from behind you.

You dropped your hand to let it hang between your bent knees, closed your eyes, and prayed for patience, before twisting at the waist to look at him with a forced smile. “Len, why don’t you go look for some fire wood. It’ll be getting dark soon.”

“Are you saying that we’ll be spending the night here?”

“I’m not saying it.” You turned back to exposed wiring of the shuttle. “The cracked exoplating and busted life support is saying it.”

You were answered with silence. After a few moments, you assumed he had left and your shoulders relaxed. Dropping your knees to the ground, so you no longer had to squat, you studied the reading on your tricorder. You had been working on patching the shuttle for hours and you weren’t much closer to getting off the ground. The only real thing to change was your mood.

“Is there any hope of fixing it?” So he hadn’t left after all.

“Depends on how much of a hopeful person you are.”

“So that’s a no.”

Getting to your feet, you turned to face him. “Leonard, we were shot out of the sky, lost oxygen, and tumbled into one of the worst crashes I have ever heard of, much less been part of, yet we survived. Whoever shot us is in all likelihood still out there and quite probably looking for us, but we have not run in to further problems yet. Odds are we will continue to make our way through this.”

“How on Earth is that evidence for good odds?” his tone rose. The two of you had been building up to a fight since you hit land and were sure everyone was alive and well.

“If you want to continue to be stubbornly pessimistic, that is your prerogative, but it would be helpful if you did it while looking for firewood.” You looked back to your tricorder.

“If we’re still under attack, it doesn’t seem safe to split up.”

“But it seems safe to keep pestering me,” you grumbled. Raising your eyeline, you saw him look at you from under a quirked brow.

“Sorry, I’m just,” you struggled momentarily to find a viable excuse, “dehydrated.”

“No need to apologize to me about irritability,” Leonard  told you. “I’ll see if I can find some water.”

“Great.” You weren’t sure if you meant to sound sincere or not. “Take him with you,” you added, gesturing at the scientist sitting in the doorway to the shuttle. He had made himself as unnoticeable as possible, trying his best to stay out of the line of fire of both of your tempers.

With a curt nod, Leonard  headed off into the forest, motioning for him to follow. The scientist glanced down at the arm he had in a sling, but inevitably decided it was safer to brave the wild than stay where he could get in your way. Turning back to the shuttle, you went back over your mental list of the damages.

A frustrated yell ripped through you as you threw your tricorder against the broken paneling. It ricocheted off and smacked you hard in the shin, causing you to let out another yell. You held your head in your hand, before moving your fingers up to comb through your hair. You were a pilot, not an engineer. Fixing totaled shuttles was just barely under your job description. You knew basic mechanics at best.

The sound of a twig snapping caught your attention. Your hand dropped and your spine straightened.

“Len?” you called nervously. When there was no reply you stiffed further. “Leonard?”

An unintelligible garble of words reached your ears. Before you had time to react an alien came into the clearing. His words grew harsher, but no more clear. Your eyes drifted down to the phaser he had a firm grip on. You raised your hands in surrender.

“Alright, let’s not do anything either of us would regret,” you said in as calm a voice as you could muster.

Slowly you moved towards the entrance to your ship. Again a long string of harsh language.

“I’m just going to get my universal translator, No need to do anything rash.” You reached for your the device and he fired into your shoulder. “Now see,” you grunted, “this is what I was talking about.”

He moved the phaser though the air, warning you not to move again. At least that what you assumed the action was meant to signify.

“I. Am. Just. Trying. To. Talk. To. You.” You motion out each word to the best of your ability.

When he didn’t show any signs of attacking, you reached for your translator again. He took a few steps forward, looking almost panicked. You sighed and pressed your palm against your shoulder. He began yelling at you once again and you rolled your eyes.

You threw your hand out in front of you. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

Something pressed up against your back. Your mind desperately scrambled to work out what was happening, what you should do. You couldn’t think in full sentences. A voice in the back of your head told you to scream. That’s what people did in these situations, right? They screamed. But you didn’t. You couldn’t seem to get your mouth to follow commands. So you just stared wide-eyed at the alien in front of you. As he took another step closer to you, your body caught up even though your mind hadn’t and acted on its own. You used the hand still held in front of you to take hold of his wrist and twist the barrel of the gun away from you.

The being jerked his arm away from you, sending his elbow into your gut. You winced and released him. As he twisted back to face you, your reached for your own phaser. Your fingers didn’t get the chance to reach your harness. The attacker behind you grabbed your wrist, yanking them back. The butt of his phaser hit you across the face. You stumbled backwards. Your vision blurred for a second and it took you a moment to get your bearings back.

A shout sounded out off in the woods. It was too far away for you to fully make it out, but it was unmistakably human.

Leonard.

The thought that he could be in any kind of danger, launched you into action. You kicked your foot back as hard as you could.  The heel of your boot landed against your attacker’s shin. His grip loosened in shock enough for you to pull a hand forward. You wrapped it around the handle of your phaser, lifted it up, and, with barely enough time to aim, fired. Then you swung around. Before you got a good look at him, his fist made contact with your face. With a grunt, you returned the act, punching out at whatever your fists could reach.

After that it was all a blur. If anyone were to ask you exactly what lead to you laying on the ground between two unconscious members of an unknown species, you would have no answer for them.

You didn’t get a chance to gather yourself before you heard more footsteps. Your heart rate started to pick up again as you got to your feet. Instead of the fear and anger that you were expecting, your body filled with relief, when you saw Star Fleet uniforms not the uniforms of the hostiles.

“Len,” you sighed, limping over to him. “Are you okay? I heard a shout. Oh my god, your face.” You put a hand on his cheek. Your thumb lightly grazed the cut that now lay there.

“Am I okay?” he repeated like it was a ridiculous question. “You look like you’ve been through a blender, and you’re asking if I’m okay.”

“I’m fine,” you tried to smile reassuringly. “I may throw up or pass out and I think I may be dying, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“I’m fine too,” the scientist said walking past you to the shuttle. “In case anyone was wondering.”

You chuckled but it quickly turned into and a wince. Now that your adrenaline rush was fading your were acutely aware of just how beat up you really were and your legs threatened to give way.

“You’re not fine,” Leonard said firmly.

“Yeah, probably not,” you agreed, letting him help you to the seats in the shuttle.

Despite not having been on your feet for all that long, getting off of them was such a relief that you sank into the chair immediately. You shut your eyes, trying to prevent your expression from twisting in pain. You could hear Leonard  walking to the back of the ship. Lifting a hand, you gently pressed your fingertips to the spot where the pain in your head was stemming from.

When they came back bloody, you groaned, “I can’t believe I got pistol whipped. What is this, the Wild West?”

“Do you even know what a pistol is?” Leonard snorted coming back to kneel in front of you.

“Yeah, it’s like a phaser for cowboys,” you guessed, trying to make it sound convincing.

“More or less,” he smiled softly the way he always did when he was worried about you but didn’t want you to know. He cupped the your cheek with hand, using his thumb to wipe away the tears you hadn’t realised had started falling. “I’m going to start on your shoulder.

You made the mistake of looking down at it.

“Oh my god. That’s disgusting,” you gagged.

“It’s not that bad,” he told you. “Just look at me instead of it.”

You were pretty sure he was lying, but you didn’t saying anything, letting him remove the part of your uniform that hindered his work and clean the burn without interruption. It wasn’t until he started loosely wrapping bandages around the area that you spoke up again.

“I can’t feel it. Shouldn’t it hurt?” You asked. “I mean, I was shot. Isn’t that usually a painful experience?”

“Your nerves are probably damaged.” Looking up from his work to see the worry in your eyes, he added, “It’s very common with phaser wounds. You’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Pinky promise?” You held your pinky out and looked at him expectantly.

“Would it make you feel better, if I pretended to be a five year old and shook your pinky?” he asked finishing your dressing.

You nodded enthusiastically, but immediately regretted the action as the pain in your head worsened. Leonard moved his hand from your shoulder and hooked his pinky around yours. His eyes studied your expression and you knew he could tell how miserable you were.

“Now how ‘bout I patch up that pretty face of yours,” he suggested, already reaching for the bandages again.

“No, I like it like this.”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“It makes me look rugged, like a mountain man.” You closed your eyes in an effort to get the room to stop spinning. “Lets everyone know I’m not afraid to kick their asses.”

“Calm down, Kit Carson.” He slowly started cleaning the cut. “This won’t even scar.”

You smiled but didn't open your eyes, hoping it would keep the dizziness at bay. Leonard's hands worked steadily, his warm fingers moving across your temple.

“I’m sorry I couldn't get you to your conference,” you murmured, almost hoping that he wouldn't hear.

“Don't worry. Woulda been boring anyway.”

“Come on, you’ve been grumpy since we landed,” you said. “You wanted to go.”

“I just want to make it clear that what you did was not landing the shuttle, it was crashing it very violently with a lot of cursing.” He smoothed a bandage across the skin above your eyebrow. “And you were just as grumpy as I was.”

“I’m a sympathetic grump. When the people I care about are grumpy, I turn grumpy,” you explained.

“Uh huh,” Leonard hummed. “That’s all I can do ‘til we get back to Enterprise. Try not to move that arm.”

“How’m I supposed to fix the shuttle with one arm?” you asked, opening your eyes.

“I don’t care.”

“What do you mean you don’t care?” you practically shouted.

“What I care about is your safety.” You opened your mouth to argue but he didn’t give you the chance. “We’ll figure it out. I know how to boost the distress signal. I’m sure that scientist knows something about engineering.”

“But I’m the pilot,” you pointed out, knowing it wouldn’t even begin to change his mind. “I got us into this mess; I should get us out.”

“This isn’t your fault.” He caressed your arm soothingly. “Just take it easy. Like you said, odds are we’ll make it through this.”

“I like when you’re positive,” you smiled. “It suits you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Leonard rolled his eyes and kissed your forehead.

[whatsinthecanister-blog]

Predator & Prey (Chapter 2)

(A/N: Been a while since I posted. Here’s chapter 2 of predators and prey. I’m almost done with a festive oneshot between Ela/F!reader. I’ve got others waiting. Apologies for wait.

I listen to Sia’s “Titanium” all the time when writing this story... It’s so perfect.)

It all hit him the moment he was finally left on his own, bruised and aching, in a too-large room. The lighting was enough to give him a headache, but Smoke was too focused on the hole where his heart had been pulsating that morning. It hurt so much, more than any physical wound ever could.

Kapkan was gone, gutted like a beast without being given a chance at life. Never again would he be able to bury his face in the older man’s neck and breath the familiar scent, never sit in the other’s lap to be encircled in that protective embrace he sought out many a dark night. Never hear that deep voice whisper comfortingly in his ear as he tried to come to terms with whatever monstrosity he’d committed in name of his country.

Smoke’s lower lip trembled as he tried to push those thoughts away, Kapkan’s last words to him. Words he’d failed to return.

Putting weight on his left leg had the british man groaning softly, quickly shifting back onto his good leg. He was standing on a very small block of some sort of stone, barely big enough for both his feet to rest upon, while his hands were tied behind his back, chain around his neck to force him onto the tips of his toes. Any relaxation would cause the makeshift noose to tighten, forcing Smoke to remain upright. A difficult task considering he only had one good leg to support his full weight.

A door opening from somewhere behind had the young man attempting to turn to face whoever had entered, his good foot slipping off the block.

The skull-faced man appeared in front of him as he choked, desperately trying to get back onto the block with his bad leg, straining to reach it as those piercing grey eyes observed his panic with amusement. “Get him back up.”

Rough hands grabbed at Smoke, pulling him forwards so he could regain his footing, legs trembling with the exertion as the young man tried to find a way to keep himself on the block without it being so exhausting.

“Difficult, isn’t it?”

Smoke turned his head ever so slightly as the masked terrorist sat in a seat brought over by one of his subordinates, the large man crossing one leg over his knee as he looked his captive up and down with obvious interest.

“Go to.. hell.” Smoke managed to form the words with some sense of confidence, something he was truly proud of. This was nothing. He’d been trained to withstand more than this! This was child’s play and he-

“I’m sorry about your friend.”

The words tore apart any resistance Smoke had been building up in preparation for what was undoubtedly going to be an interrogation, though what they were looking for or wanted, he wasn’t yet aware of.

“Were you two, I don’t know,” the masked man gave a small shrug of his shoulders, “close?”

Smoke clenched his jaw as he tried to keep out images of Kapkan’s lifeless body amidst his own blood, blood of which still stained the brit’s hands and knees. His fingers flexed ever so slightly at that thought.

“Must’ve been horrible, having to witness his death in such a way.” The chair scooted ever so closer, causing Smoke to have to choke himself in order to meet the other’s gaze, a gaze that wandered way too much. Like a predator that sized up their prey. “I do believe it wasn’t too bad. He’d only have remained conscious for another minute or so. It’s the time before the darkness that is the most unsettling,”

“Don’t talk about him!” Smoke cried, kicking out at the larger man, booted foot connecting hard with something, giving the brit a sense of satisfaction even as he found himself suspended by the chain again, feet scrabbling to find the block again. There was no need. Hands were on him, arms wrapping around his legs to restrain them as well as lift him enough to keep him from losing consciousness due to lack of air.

Struggling as best he could, Smoke glared venomously as his captor stood up, one hand rubbing his chin as he silently sidled closer. “Now that was foolish.”

Smoke cried out as a fist connected with his stomach, knocking the air out of him. With his hands and legs restrained he had no way of effectively retaliating, instead only able to glare as best he could as a gloved hand gripped his chin, forcing him to meet that cold gaze.

“First your fingers go cold. You feel paralyzed, like you’re drowning.” The gray-eyed terrorist whispered as if what he were saying was a secret, “every time you inhale you suck fluids into your lungs. You can’t call for help, can’t move. The panic and fear sets in, but no one can hear you.”

Staring into that cruel gaze, Smoke was fighting so hard to keep from reacting to the other’s words, biting the inside of his lip to hide the trembling, taking a deep breath through his nose to try and prevent the tears from forming. Had Kapkan been frightened while he lay there? Knowing Smoke was nearby but unable to help him? To hold his hand as he passed?

“So you were close.”

It was a statement, not a question, and Smoke just regarded the other in silence, refusing to give a verbal response. Anything he had to say wouldn’t do anything for his situation or Kapkan. Kapkan was gone, and he was in a hostile environment. If he wanted to survive and keep some form of sanity, he had to forget. If – when – there was a rescue, he had to be prepared for it.

Komrades, Kapkan would say.

“No closer than the usual soldiers.” Smoke finally responded, keeping his tone as void of emotion as physically possible.

The grey-eyed male laughed and gave a nod. “We’ll find out, won’t we? But right now we have other matters to discuss.” The larger man turned and gave a nod to someone out of the brit’s line of sight. He needn’t have worried, the makeshift noose looped around his neck loosening as  it was slackened, allowing Smoke’s captors the opportunity to dump him on the ground.

Pain flared through his injured leg as Smoke ground his teeth together, unable to do much else than prop himself up on one elbow.

“Seat him.”

Smoke choked down a groan as rough hands grabbed him under each arm, forcefully pulling him to his feet before pivoting him and forcing him into a chair.

A table was carried over, along with a second chair for the grey-eyed terrorist, Smoke shifting slightly as a large bucket of water was carried over and deposited directly in front of him.

Blue eyes took in the bucket before looking at the men standing on either side, Smoke finally turning his full attention onto his main enemy, the one that seemed to hold the power over what happened to him. “I have nothing you want.”

There was laughter as the big brute of a man seated himself, sitting forwards so he could place his hands on the table before him. “Maybe not when I first set out to cripple your team, but after seeing what your… bombs could do to a man, I must say I’m interested.”

Smoke was tense, glancing at the man to his right out of the corner of his eye. Had his leg been fine, he would’ve attempted to bolt, but as it was he’d have to wait until he’d healed somewhat.

As if he knew what his young captive was thinking, the bigger man laughed. “There’s nowhere to go. Even if you hadn’t been… conveniently injured during the attack, we’d have had to cripple you somehow.” He announced, head tilting ever so slightly. “By the time your leg heals, you’ll be too broken to go anywhere.”

The words were sickening, the meaning barbaric, but Smoke just turned his attention back onto the other, remaining silent.

“Lets be clear. You had the bombs, you armed them, you killed several of my men,” the raspy voice continued, “so you know more about them than anyone else, I’m sure. If not what the contents are, someone who does.”

Smoke straightened ever so slightly, regarding the other in silence.

“Is this how it’s going to be?”

The question went unanswered, the young brit remaining both silent and still, though there was a flicker of trepidation in the clear, blue eyes.

Shrugging, the larger man dipped his head. “Alright.”

Smoke barely had a chance to react when hands were suddenly on the back of his neck and head, forcing it forwards and underwater. Even as he told himself everything was fine, that it was just water, that they didn’t want to kill him, the panic began to set in. The inability to breath was frightening, the burn in his lungs growing rapidly as he began to struggle, trying to get loose even with his hands bound behind his back. Any resistance he gave was laughable at most.

Jerked backwards so he slammed against the back of his chair, Smoke coughed and gagged, sandy bangs sticking to his forehead as he rapidly looked around in desperate panic. The lighting was suddenly too bright, the men guarding him looking bigger than they really were.

“Hey!”

Smoke’s head whipped back towards his tormentor, slightly confused as well as a little fearful now. If he pushed the other far enough, would he be executed? Tortured to death? Either way, he couldn't divulge the secrets he possessed. Specifically when they were about a weapon he'd created. A weapon that could easily be used to harm thousands of innocent people.

"You keep your eyes right here," the older man ordered, making a gesture as if to ensure Smoke fully understood. "Now, what's in the bombs?"

"I told you, I don't-"

Smoke barely had time to take a breath before he was shoulders deep in the water again, struggling a little more insistently than the first time as he attempted to get loose, to get a breath.

Sputtering as he was pulled backwards, Smoke truly just wanted to cry. Kapkan had always said he was too emotional, too invested in things. Maybe his deceased companion was right.

"The US government doesn't consider this torture," the grey eyed man murmured in a taunting voice. "What do you think?"

[aurorlongbottomridingadinosaur]

Graviora Manent / Closed

Part 1 April 4, 1979

Most mornings, his day started out like all the others used to. Willingly shuffling himself out of bed, his palm would rub uneven tracks into blurry eyes as he stumbled his way into the shower. His hair would dry and fall perfectly into place as he read the Daily Prophet over a cherry wood table; the strongest coffee he could handle while still enjoying it would wake him just a little bit more than the scalding water. And in the hours before he headed into work each day, Frank read, and he drank his coffee, and he shuffled his cards, and he watched the sun rise through sheer, pristine white curtains as if he were trying to consume as much of it as he could into his memory, as if it would be the last sunrise he would ever see, though it never stayed with him as easily as his eyes promised it might.

But on one bitterly cold early-April morning, though his palms still rubbed at his eyes as he shuffled out of bed at the normal half past four, the energy it took to keep the routine was, for a lack of a better word, completely gone. The Daily Prophet lay rolled in place on top of a cherry wood table. The dark shadow of two unusual days without shaving itched the skin beneath his jaw, his coffee mug sat empty beside his packaged deck of cards in the kitchen, and as Frank took a seat on a wicker, weathered chair just outside the double doors that led to the high porch of the flat, he wrapped the long, woolen coat tightly around him in protection from the frigid air. More so, from what he knew was ahead of him that day.

It took all the concentration he had to apparate to Calcot, for the morning, void of the beautifully coloured sunrise, couldn’t have been a brighter shade of monotonous grey.

As usual, the house was far too warm for his liking. Always too warm. The sound of his shoes moving swiftly across textured tile was always too high pitched. The grandfather clock that stood towering over the rest of the sparsely decorated foyer ticked all too loudly. The dark shades that Frank had fought to keep open relentlessly through his childhood were closed. He could already smell the coffee brewing, as usual.

As usual, Frank’s father sat in his place at the head of the long cherry table, the Daily Prophet in one hand, his coffee in the other. Quietly, out of habit, and involuntarily, Frank grinned, knowing that on any normal morning he would be sitting at cherry with the Daily Prophet in one hand and his coffee in the other. He had always wanted to be like his father. The only outward difference these days was Frank’s lack of salt and peppered hair, and his lack of the thin reading glasses that adorned the bridge of his Charles Longbottom’s nose.

And as usual, Frank would have given nothing more than to stop into the dining room, plopping himself to his father’s right instead of treading past the room without looking backward like he so wanted to.

__________________________________________________________________

He hadn’t been in their bedroom since he was eleven.

The smell of his mother’s perfume hit his nose more potently than it ever might have had the lights been turned on, and Frank grew more nervous than he already had been. But the steps toward her bed he knew by memory even in the dark, and that, at least, was oddly comforting.

“Mum?” he asked in a whisper, reaching her bedside and shaking her lightly on the shoulder, “Mum.”

“Yes,” she drawled. “What is it, Charles?”

“It’s me.”

Frank counted to three before Augusta’s eyes flew open. “Frank. What are you doing here?” she asked harshly enough to send a sting along Frank’s spine, though he knew she meant to ask what he was doing in her room. “I’m in my nightgown, go and–”

“It’s a nightgown,” Frank interrupted with a sigh, pulling the string of the lamp beside her bed in order to throw the room into dim yellow lighting. He took a seat at the foot of her bed, automatically pulling his legs to his knees and waiting for her to speak just as he had done as a child when he was sick. Augusta was already sitting, eyes open albeit ridden with sleep, hands pressing at disheveled hair.

“Do you have any idea what time it is? What’s wrong?”

“Almost five. I need to talk to you.”

Augusta stared at her son for a moment, and from the apparent look on Frank’s face, a moment was all she needed. That, at least, should have told him something; calmed his nerves enough to stop his fingers from fidgeting with the hem of his trousers. Frank, in all his stubbornness, missed it.

“I’m listening.”

“Why didn’t you owl me?” he blurted without thinking. That wasn’t at all what he came to talk about, but now that he had said it out loud, he couldn’t stop.  “I know you read that newspaper. I know you talked to Dad about it.”

“You didn’t want me to, Frank.”

He had no words. She was absolutely right.

Exactly one week previously, a motion of no confidence was tabled against the muggle Prime Minister’s regime, effectively placing the general election he and Alice had worked so hard to prevent onto the table, and Frank into total and complete chaos. The motion had passed by one vote. The dissolution of parliament was coming whether he liked it or not, along with it six hundred and thirty five seats that could be occupied by anyone: anyone, muggle, Death Eater, and imperiused alike.

He could barely stand his own thoughts on the subject, let alone hers. 

“Are you afraid?”

Yes.

“No, mum, but since when does that stop you from doing something I don’t want you to do?” he asked, voice rising as he caught his bearings.

“Do not get upset with me here. You wanted to speak with me, you’re going to keep yourself calm and speak to me how I deserve to be spoken to.”

Frank sighed and nodded, legs falling to either side of him as his back straightened. Again, he blurted words that shocked him. This wasn’t at all the conversation he meant to have.

“You only care about me because I’ve made the decisions you wanted me to make,” he stated matter-of-factly, realizing immediately how childish he sounded, “you don’t care what’s going on, you care that I’m in the middle of taking care of it.”

“If that is your perception.”

“But you don’t care that I feel that way?”

“You haven’t decided the way I might have on every decision I’ve ever wanted you to make, not by a hair. Don’t be dramatic. I’ll ask you again. Are you afraid?”

“No,” he repeated lightly, head falling toward his hands for only a moment before his fingers met his eyes.

“Then how can you possibly say I wouldn’t care? Of course I would know you weren’t afraid.”

But he was. He was petrified. He was the twenty-three and sitting on his mother’s bed type of petrified.

She should have known.

“You told me what you wanted many years ago,” Augusta carried on without his input, “I did support you in your decision. I encouraged you to pursue your chosen career. I pressed you in school to make sure you would carry it out; do not tell me I have to check on your every move once you have done so.”

That, childishly, stung worse.

“I didn’t need to be pressed,” he practically whined, eyebrows furrowing as his hands left his face to fall to his thighs with a slap.

“I will never sugar coat my thoughts to make you feel better. That is who I am. That doesn’t mean at all that I don’t love you, Charles Frank. That does not mean I don’t respect you. Now, either you can carry this on as you have, again, for years, until--”

“If I’ve carried it on for years--”

“Do not interrupt me. Either you carry this on and you never speak to me again or you start taking a taste of your own medicine and give me the margin to be myself, too. As well, you can stop accusing me of not caring for my own son.”

As quickly as everything else had began and stopped again, his heart ached.

So suddenly, his heart ached for Alice. As much as he wanted his mother to care as she should have far before he turned twenty-three, she didn’t. As much as he wanted her to understand, she wasn’t going to. As much as he wanted her to be in this with him, she wasn’t, and he was doing the very same to Alice. He had pushed her to be what he wanted her to be rather than accepting her for who she was. He wasn’t meeting her in the middle. He wasn’t considering a middle.

Maybe he shouldn’t. But this girl, no matter how much of a whirlwind she was, loved him. He was going to take everything away from her. He appreciated her when she was Auror Trainee Prewett. Girlfriend, mother, wife. Dinner. Tea. Eleven months. This wasn’t what it was supposed to be like.

His head was pounding.

“Am I more like you than I think I am?” Frank asked with grit teeth, hoping it didn’t sound as harsh as he wished he didn’t have to mean it.

“Oh, no, you’re nothing like me,” she said, a small smile painting the corners of her lips as she leaned forward and straightened the collar of Frank’s coat, “But you are, however unintentionally, a very extreme double standard.”

“Alice Prewett wants to marry me,” he blurted again. The five-year-old in him wasn’t ending today. The urge to tell her everything wasn’t ending today. But it wasn’t working, either. 

If Augusta was at all shocked, she didn’t show it.

“Well, that’s nice.”

“That’s nice. What do you mean, that’s nice?”

“Am I to consider this an invitation?”

“I can’t do that.”

“Well, why not?” Augusta sneered, “What a respectable girl; respectable family, yes. You have been seeing her all this time, after all, without bringing her to dinner, without caring that I might be interested in something about your life other than what you want me to be interested in, Frank.”

Frank’s lips fell open, and then his voice fell to a whisper.

“I can’t do that.”

“What a perfectly reasonable decision."

“Stop it!” he finally shouted, moving quickly to hover the bedside instead of standing his ground where he sat. Childish, yes. But when enough was enough, it was enough. “Stop it. You know I can’t do that. You know I can’t-- marry someone who wants-- you know I can’t.”

Frank started pacing. He knew his father would be standing outside of the door by then, and somehow, the thought threatened to drown him.

“It’s not even been a year. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to be my partner, she wasn’t supposed to be a trainee, I’m her mentor, she wants children, she wasn’t supposed to say that, we were supposed to enjoy th-- shit. And I can’t--”

“Of course you can’t,” Augusta shrugged, eyelashes fluttering with extreme rapidity as her hands raised, “I don’t know why you are worried about this when you have so much more to think about.”

Frank paced faster.

“A war in front of you and you worry for your mother’s coddle and a girl you quite apparently don’t care much for.”

“I LOVE HER, I don’t need you, I want you.” Frank spun to face his mother, so shocked by his own words that his throat closed of its own accord. 

Augusta’s hands linked together above the bed sheets.

“This is not the son I raised.”

Frank ignored his throat.

“Why don’t you tell me who that is then, mum, because I don’t know that I know anymore.”

“You do know,” came another voice, a stronger, more solid voice in Frank’s mind, though infinitely more kind. His eyes refused to divert to the door frame where he could feel his father watching him. Frank knew he had come to Augusta rather than Charles because Charles would have talked him into this. He was already well on his way with three words.

“You do know who you are.”

What Frank had left of his fingernails dug into his palms.

“It’s okay,” Charles pressed.

“It isn’t,” Frank answered, irises still locked to his mother’s, though he could see his father’s sigh from the corner. 

Augusta hesitated for a moment, staring at her son with a wide gaze, as if she had never seen him before. Frank felt nothing more than ashamed. Her cocked brow let him know that she was confident in her own last words, and Frank stood frozen in wait, breath held, needing the understanding. In accordance with all odds, Augusta shook her head no, only once. And Frank, though he wasn’t even ten percent sure that he had at all gotten what he came for, swept himself from the room.