#i struggled with youngest me I considered just doing another uniform but i wanted to like

[im-traumatised]

This probably doesn't mean much to anyone but me. But I've been dabbling in drawing vent art lately, and after a drew a picture of really young me talking to now me. It made me think about how I've changed through the years just visually. So yeah idk, here's 'me as a brief timeline.'

[misstressshelby]

The Good The Bad and Everything In-between

Summary: Living with two Shebly men has its ups and downs. A second part of my Lost Boy writing. (I suck at summaries)

Warnings: Language

Word Count:1,856

Paring: Tommy/Reader (Reader is GN but there is a slight refecne to pregnancy)

(A/N: I just want to say thank you for 50 notes on Lost Boy! I didn’t think anyone would he interested in a little headcanon I created. I guess we can all agree Finn deserved better. )

You longed for Arrow House even as it’s large gates came into view. Tommy planned to go eighty percent legitimate by the end of next year so that meant playing nice with the tofts. Spending all afternoon with the wives of Tommy’s business associates had drained you. You couldn’t remember if the pit in your stomach or the thumping in your head started before or after lunch.

All you knew was as soon as you entered the house you instantly felt better. Mary was waiting for you as usual. You had lived in Arrow House for a year now but still weren’t used to having maids around.

“Good afternoon Mrs.Shelby. How was your lunch?” Mary smiled as soon you walked in.

“Long Mary, very long.” You gave a tight smile back. Offering a ‘Thank You” as she took your coat.

Before you could ask her where the rest of your family was, Finn walked out of the living room. He was still wearing his school uniform he claimed to hate because it made him look like a “posh twat”. His tutor Mr.Chapman followed behind him shuffling papers into a briefcase.

“Hello, Finn, how's tutoring going?’ You asked.

‘Yeah, it’s alright.’ The redhead grunted back before moving to go outside.

“Are you finished with your homework?” You questioned already suspecting the answer.

“Nah I got a couple more pages but I wanna go to the stables. I’ll only be an hour I swear it.” Finn gave you the pleading look he’d mastered.

After considering it for a moment you nodded,” An hour Finn. Then you finish up your homework before dinner.”

The boy gave you half a hug on his way out. He had to lean down to capture you in his arms. He was only fifteen but he was already taller than you and your husband though Tom would never admit it.

Watching Finn run out the door you turned your attention to the tutor. The man was standing in the hallway fiddling with his bag uneasily.

“How is he doing Mr.Chapman?'' You finally addressed him.

“Well he’s doing alright I suppose.” He continued seeing your questioning stare. “He’s still struggling with a few concepts but he’s quick to figure things out.”

“Yeah, that’s the Shelby in ‘im” You chuckle to yourself. “Do we owe you for the week?

Shaking his head Mr.Chapman told you “No.No. Mr.Shelby already took care of it.’

Adjusting his satchel he quickly left out the same door as Finn. He never stayed long after their sessions.

Not giving it much thought, you headed straight to your husband’s office. He was already gone when you woke this morning and as silly as it was you missed him. After knocking against the door you pull it open before Tommy’s muffled “come in” could even start.

“Hello, Tommy, how ‘is your day going?” You greet him while making the short walk to his desk.

He looked up from his papers with a cigarette hanging off his lips to give a short “Busy.”, before writing again.

You didn’t let this deter you as you sat on the edge of his desk that wasn’t covered in files. Taking the cigarette from his lips you kissed him as if you had been deprived of him for months.

“The tutor just left. He said Finn is making good progress.” You informed him.

He watched as you took a drag off his cigarette with a glint in his eyes. Knowing you wouldn’t leave until he gave you the attention you demanded he leaned back in his chair.

“How was lunch with Minnie and Ida then?” He asked.

‘It was like every other boring lunch, we sat around and ate tiny food while they complained about the other wives. I've invited Minnie and Richard to dinner next Wednesday.”, You could feel your headache return as you told him.

Tommy gave you a curious look waiting for you to take another drag.

‘She was telling me Richard is looking into investing in the car business while it’s on the rise and all. So I figured we’d have them for dinner and if business happens to be brought up you two can talk about it.” You explain.

“So happens to be brought up?” Tommy teased.

“Yes, it usually happens at these things.” You tell him with a slight smile.

“Now you finish up whatever you’re doing. Dinner will be ready at seven.” You command slipping off the desk while putting the cigarette out in the ashtray.

Your husband let out a loud sigh which was never a good sign.

“Love, I have a lot of work to do ton-’ He started.

“Yes, and you can finish it when you come back from dinner.” You cut him off.

This was the ever-going battle in your home making Tommy stop working and take care of himself. But you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without a fight.

You lean over the side of the desk pulling him lightly by his silk tie into another kiss.

“Thomas Shelby, I will drag you out of this office. Don’t you think for a second I won’t.” You threaten him with a grin.

” Wouldn’t dream of it Mrs.Shelby.”, He smirked back.

At seven on the dot, you all sat down for dinner together as a family.

Finn talked for most of the dinner about school and his favorite football club going to the championship.

You mused about your plans for Minnie’s dinner Wednesday.

Tommy spent most of dinner listening, offering nods or the occasional “yeah”.

Once he and Finn started talking about a horse he wanted to buy for the races he didn’t stop. Long forgotten was the pile of contracts in his office.

For the first time since you woke this morning you were content. The moments you spent with your little family were the ones you cherished the most.

~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of a door slamming startled you awake. While the two voices yelling kept you from falling back to sleep. Before you could wonder what the fuss was about, an acidic taste overtook your mouth. You barely made it to the toilet, your knees hitting the hard floor as the bile rose. By the time you had emptied your stomach laying on the bathroom floor the screaming had stopped.

You couldn’t think about anything over the pounding in your head made worse from the buzzing of the lights. Making your way downstairs you noticed everything irritated you.

The fact that you tripped over Thomas’s shoes you had told him to put away last night. The coldness of the house even though there was a fireplace in almost every room. Even the way Mary greeted you with “Good Morning Mrs.Shelby.” seemed to drip with condescension.

As you reached the dining room you had a feeling the day was going to drag on forever.

Finn was glaring at his eggs while pushing them around his plate. Beside him, Tommy hid behind a newspaper with only a line of smoke to be seen.

The room was tense and you knew neither of the men would say anything first. Stubbornness also ran in the Shelbys.

“Do either of you want to tell what the fuck all the commotion this morning was about?” You snapped sitting in front of your own breakfast.

Finn gave you a glare before starting in,” Yeah Tommy won’t let me go to a football match with me friends. It’s fooking bullshit!”

In return, Tommy put down the paper with a sigh,” You’re not going to Manchester. I’m not discussing this again Finn.”

Both of them looked at you as if you had a say in the matter.

“If Thomas says no the answer is no Finn.” You settled.

“This is complete bollocks. You took me away from me friends in Birmingham and now I’m not allowed to have any friends here either?” Finn screamed standing up from the table.

“We never said you couldn’t have friends Finn. It’s just not the right time to go to Manc-” You tried to calm him down.

“ You’re not me fucking mother you can’t tell me what to do!” He slammed his chair against the table.

“You will not fooking talk too ��er like that! This is me fooking house and what I say fooking goes.” Tommy said in a cold voice.

The table shook as he slammed his palm down on it, breaking his calm facade.

With that Finn stomped up to his room and Tommy to his office both slamming the door when they arrived.

Waking from a nap you had hoped would help with the sickness you felt you heard silence. You laid in bed for a bit longer feeling tears build up in your eyes. Instead of wallowing, you decided to make peace. You chose to try talking to the youngest first making your way to his room. You knocked on the door.

After waiting to hear a reply or shuffle come from the room you knocked again.

“Fuck off.,” Finn answered.

Ignoring him you opened the door anyway to find him lying on his bed still dressed from this morning. He simply turned away from you to face the wall instead.

You sat on the edge of the bed before trying to talk.

“Finn I know you don’t understand this but Tommy is just trying to keep you safe.” You started.

Finn scoffed and moved closer to the wall.

“I know you don’t know this because you’ve been so busy with school, but we’ve had some trouble in Manchester. There’s a gang up there the Scuttlers, who've been trying to move on us. We can’t protect you there Finn. That’s all it is.” Moving closer you put a hand on his shoulder.

``We're happy you’ve made friends at school really. It’s just one match yeah? You can hang out with them another time.” You tried reasoning.

“Yeah.” He grunted, not moving from his spot.

You decided you would take it before going to deal with the other man child.

You found Tommy sitting in his office chair finishing a drink before pouring another.

“ Who does he think he ‘is eh? Talking to me like that in me own fucking house. I should go up there and-’ Tommy began rambling pointing towards the door you just walked through.

“Tom, it's fine. I talked to him and explained everything. Just give ‘im a week and he’ll forget all about it.”You sat in the chair opposite of him.

Once you said that he seemed to relax a little bit.

“I’m still talking to ‘im later. He will not disrespect me or you like that again.” He told you.

To that, you chuckled, “ He’s a teenage boy Thomas he’s gonna argue. But I agree you should talk to him after you’ve both calmed down.”

Tommy nodded and took another swing of his whiskey. He walked over to where you sat leaning against the desk. To your surprise, he smiled.

“You’d make a good mum you know?” He leaned down to stroke your cheek.

“Yeah about that.” You let out.

[alltooreid]

Invisible String

Although Spencer Reid and the Reader don’t find themselves in a romance with each other until well into their adulthood, their relationship has been decades in the making. Almost as if something as been pulling them together all these years. 

A/N: sorry for such a long wait but i’ve been struggling a lot mentally as of late. i hope you guys enjoy this one shot!! As always requests are open and heavily encouraged!! And of course this is inspired by the taylor swift song of the same name :)) Also keep in mind although the following scenes are heavily inspired by some scenes in Criminal Minds, elements of them have been slightly altered to fit in Y/N as a character.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Type: a cute strangers to lovers fluff fic!

Word Count: 3.9K

Content Warnings: typical criminal minds case discussion, mentions of child trafficking when discussing this case, but no real detail. slight spoilers for season eight (beginning maeve stuff) and tiny spoilers for season fifteen (briefly mentions max but nothing really important to the plot at all)

“Time, curious time Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs Were there clues I didn't see?”

You had met Spencer Reid 3 times before you had really met him.  

It was almost silly to think about it now. Now that you and Spencer have been dating for 3 years, it was strange to believe there were so many chances for you two to meet years earlier.

When you were sixteen years old, you got your first part time job. You worked at a self-serve frozen yogurt shop called Iced Dreams. You hated it so much. Your manager was a total creep, your older coworkers were rude and condescending to you, since you were one of the youngest people working there, but most of all you hated the uniforms.

Consisting of a very stupid looking hat, bright pink with randomly embrodiered teal patterns, an outdated bright teal shirt, it had been given to you from a dirty bin in the back, and judging by the sewn in shoulder pads, it had to be at least a couple decades old.

So one day, you didn’t wear the hat.

It wasn’t entirely purposeful. You couldn’t find it, you searched your room, you searched your car, so eventually you had to leave without it to prevent being late. Still, as you clocked it and passed the box of extras in the office something made you decide to leave it alone.

You were about 8 minutes into your shift when your manager approached you. “Y/N? Where’s your hat sweetheart?” You hated this man so much. You had gone to your parents time and time again, recounting his creepy behavior towards you and the other teenage girls who you worked with, but they refused to let you quit.

When you had started working there, he used to enforce this ridiculous rule that all the female workers had to wear skirts as part of their uniform, but you had gathered all the sixteen and seventeen year olds who worked there and all threatened to quit if he didn’t change the policy. So you were no stranger to breaking and defying the rules.  

“Yeah I couldn’t find it, sorry.” you shrugged.

He chuckled and reached his hat out to touch your face. You jerked back, you almost wanted to refuse to wear one of the stupid extra hats just so that you could get fired.

“Well, Y/N its policy sweetie. No matter how special you are to me you still need to wear the hat. There’s extras in the office.”

“No way I’m wearing one of those. I bet they have like lice or something.”

He pursed his lips and sighed “Well I suppose that beautiful hair is just too pretty to wear a used hat huh. . . What do you suggest? If you’re working you have to wear it.”

You laughed, “Well you could let me go home.”

He paused, “Why don’t you go sit in the office, I’ll come talk to you in a minute.”

So you did, for about 10 minutes you sat in the office, surrounded by frozen yogurt flavor marking posters and boxes of old uniforms, and each passing minute you feared for the worst. Maybe you were actually getting fired? You really didn’t want to go that far, because, as much as you hated it, you really needed this job.

When your manager finally came to talk to you he held a small salted caramel frozen yogurt, your personal favorite flavor, and a twenty dollar bill. He handed them both to you.

“You seem so stressed Y/N, why don’t you take the day and go get lunch. My treat,” he said, smiling that weird twisted smile that always made your full body shiver.

However you were broke as hell, and no teenager in their right mind would ever pass up free food, so you took it, grabbed your keys and started to leave

Yet as soon as you walked out the back door you dropped your frozen yogurt, cup fully upside down, onto the pavement. You cursed, you hadn’t even taken a bite of it yet, and it looked like he had put coconut flakes on it, and you loved coconut. Still, you had your twenty bucks, and that was a pretty sweet pay out considering you were only clocked in for about 20 minutes.

So you got Chinese food, and spent what was supposed to be your shift in the shopping mall across town, completely and blissfully unaware of the fact the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI was dragging your manager away in handcuffs.

➽───────────────❥

Young Spencer Reid had only joined the FBI about a month ago. Despite being a genius, and providing crucial information to the solving of cases, he was aware of the most obvious. He was only twenty two years old, and he was scrawny as hell.

He felt this intense need to prove himself, especially to make Gideon proud.

So when they got a case about a the kidnapping and sex trafficking of teenage girls, he saw it as something he could really involve himself in. Based on the profile, it wasn’t going to be a large, strong, confident unsub who Morgan needed to tackle. This man would be ugly sure, but he would be a manipulative mastermind. Reid could work with that, he could prove himself.

He surprised everyone with his sheer work ethic and determination to find this man, and through consistently revising and delivering the profile soon enough they got a hit. A young woman in her early twenties called the tipline and reported her own manager. Insisting he fit the profile perfectly, and described how strangely he treated the minors who worked there, and how he almost exclusively hired young girls, treated them great and then switched as soon as they became legal.

So Garcia did her magically digging, and soon enough the FBI was tearing up a frozen yogurt shop, looking for any evidence of pedophilia. Garcia was even brought along, as she was pivotal to discovering any secret files in his computer.

At first, all they could find were strange compilation videos and under employees skirts. Spencer, and the rest of the team, were struggling to connect how he could get so many videos from an angle like this without anyone noticing or reporting him, until Gideon uncovered an old dusty pair of shoes, in which the right one held a small camera at the toe.

Although this was absolutely disgusting, it wasn’t enough to prove he was running the ring or kidnapping the girls, so Garcia kept digging. Meanwhile, Spencer tried to make himself useful by checking out the back of the store.

That’s where he found your clock-out receipt.

“Hey guys, we might want to take a look at this,” he shouted out.

Morgan grabbed the paper from his hand, “Ok, I don’t get it kid, it’s trash.”

Spencer pointed to the details on the slip, “Yeah but it says here she clocked out 18 minutes ago after only working for 23 minutes and 46 seconds. If this guy is our unsub, this girl could be in a lot of trouble.”

“Maybe she’s still here, has anyone checked out the parking lot yet?”

Spencer shook his head, and followed Morgan out the back door. There they discovered some almost completely melted salted caramel frozen yogurt.

Morgan bent down to investigate, “Yeah, we gotta get this to the lab, but I can tell you right now that there’s clearly more than just coconut topping this yogurt. It also means we have another victim.”

Spencer crouched down as well, “Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean kid? We’re missing a teenage girl and we’ve already found illegal evidence on this guy's computer. She’s in trouble.”

“Well judging the shape and inscription of these pills it appears to be some pretty strong rohypnol, almost certainly prescription grade. And ingesting it like this means she probably would have begun to feel its effects fairly early, I would predict 15 minutes. She clocked out 18 minutes ago, so even if she left exactly at that time she would have certainly crashed her car on the way home. The nearest residence is 8 minutes away from here, we’re in a complete shopping district. There’s only two cars out here and neither have a passed out driver, so I would bet she didn’t eat any of it. Also, the only spoon out here is still wrapped in plastic, “ Spencer analyzed.

Morgan sighed, “Well what do we even do then?”

Before Spencer could answer Hotch opened the back door. “We got him.”

Spencer turned to Morgan, “I’m sure her phone number is somewhere inside, I say we call her and make sure she’s ok. She probably doesn’t even know this is happening right now.”

So he did find your phone number, and although he initially pushed the phone to Morgan, he just chuckled and pushed it back.

“No way pretty boy. You’re the know-it-all with all that profiling out there, you can call her,” and before he could protest Morgan left, so Spencer was left to call you.

And strangely, for it being the first time he would ever interact with the love of his life, he thought nothing of it.

And that was the first time you had met Spencer Reid.

➽───────────────❥

The second time was years and years later, when you were waitressing night shifts to make extra money. You had never forgotten meeting Spencer Reid the first time, but this was the first time you would ever see his face.

You were slightly concerned when you got a call from a man, whose name you had now long forgotten, claiming he worked for the FBI. Although you weren’t incredibly surprised to hear your manager committed such heinous crimes against children, you were taken aback by how close you had come to becoming one of his victims.

But that was 9 years ago. In your college days it became a fun story you told at frat parties, but you were 25 now. Sometimes you would think about the incident when you couldn’t sleep, and if you were feeling feisty you would use it as an icebreaker or a “two truths, one lie” statement, but otherwise you didn’t really think about it.

You had plenty of other things to worry about, in fact, that’s exactly why you worked so much. It was so much easier to forget when you were constantly preoccupied with complaining customers and terribly awkward blind dates.

You had just sat this man, incredibly handsome, however it was clear he was on some kind of date. His reservation was for two, and he spent way too much time adjusting his clothes and table setting for him to not be trying to impress someone special. He also brought a gift, which judging by the packaging and shape, seemed to be some kind of wrapped book.

Even though he was 15 minutes early for his own reservation, he still looked really nervous, almost like he already believed she might not show up. You couldn’t help yourself, you had to go talk to him.

“Anyone ever tell you you should model?” you started with.

He looked up “Excuse me?”

“Sorry for being so bold, you just look so familiar,” he weirdly sounded very familiar as well, but you didn’t tell him that. “Are you sure you haven’t modeled? You have excellent bone structure. I bet you could.”

He laughed to himself, “yeah I’m sure.”

“Well your date is very lucky either way. I wish I had a boyfriend as handsome as you. Actually I wish I had a boyfriend period, but that’s a whole other story.”

He chuckled, and although you knew in your heart that you shouldn’t be flirting with him considering he was 15 minutes away from being actively on a date talking to him made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. “What happened with your boyfriend? Do I even dare ask?”

“Well I kind of always knew he wasn’t super interested in me, but I really liked him, so I did my best to ignore his wandering eyes,” you sighed. “That didn’t stop him from leaving me for his coworker though.”

“That’s terrible.”

You smirked, “That’s not even the worst part, he broke up with me over a 27 second phone call. He didn’t even let me respond, he just kind of hung up.”

“I’m sorry, no one deserves that. Especially not you. I’ve only been talking to you for a couple minutes and I can tell that.”

“Oh really? What makes you so sure?”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.”

You smiled, “Well I should probably stop flirting with you now, considering your date hasn’t even started yet. And don’t worry, she’ll show, you’re so handsome she’d be stupid not to.”

He looked confused. “You were flirting with me?”

You laughed, “I thought you were good at reading people?”

He smiled back at you, and it made your heart soar, this silly, pure goofy smile that made you want to replace his date and have dinner with him right then and there.

You walked back to your hostess stand. A couple minutes later you noticed the handsome stranger on the phone. You thought nothing of it until later when a woman came in, clearly nervous, holding a gift bag.

“Can you give this to Spencer Reid for me please?” You recognized the name, the man you were just speaking with had filed his reservation under it.

“Um, yeah sure, aren’t you going to go in? He’s at that table over the-” but before you could finish your sentence the woman was gone. Your heart sank, poor Spencer, how could someone drop their date off a gift but stand them up anyway? That’s just cold.

When you get up to bring the gift to him, he’s already heading out of the restaurant himself.

“Sir? Spencer? Dr. Reid?” he turned his head. “A lady came in and dropped this off for you.”

His face dropped, it almost looked like he was about to cry. “Thank you,” he said as he looked up at you before leaving.

He ran out the door, both gifts in hand and whipped his head around a few times before sighing and speeding off in one direction. Even before you learned what happened after that and leading up to it, you felt terrible for the handsome stranger.

How could you not for someone so clearly distressed? Someone so clearly in love?

➽───────────────❥

7 years and a divorce later you were spending your Saturday in a park, strangely contemplating love itself. Although you barely remember that night all those years ago when you spoke to Spencer, he did. Vividly. In fact, on this Saturday you both were in a public park, contemplating your many failed attempts at true love.

It was your first wedding anniversary without your husband. Although you had only been married for two years, you still were having a hard time navigating life without him. 

You started to wonder if you would ever find the true love you had been wishing for since your youth. Was 32 too late? Had you lived out all of your opportunities?

When you were little your mother had told you that all soulmates were attached at the left ring fingers, by small, incredibly thin strands of gold string, invisible to the naked eye. She insisted that these strings were constantly trying to pull you and your soulmate together, and that when life was ready for you two to meet, you would. 

Until then, you would have small, mindless interactions. Things you wouldn’t think about, maybe even things that weren’t interactions at all. You would get the same commercial jingle stuck in your head. You would both get an intense craving for the same food. You’d have the same dream. 

As a kid you were obsessed with this idea, you thought it was so romantic, and you fully believed everything your mom told you about it. You always asked her for more stories, and at bedtime you refused to sleep unless she would tell you more.

But now you were sure soulmates, true love even, didn’t exist. The invisible pretty gold strings your mother weaved fantastic stories with were completely fabricated. If they weren’t, you would have seen the clues by now.

Right?

➽───────────────❥

Spencer Reid was given an assignment from his therapist. He had to spend his Saturday off trying to interact with a stranger. Making friends with someone other than his colleagues may seem like a simple task for some, but it was something the young genius had almost no experience with.

He understood that it was probably for the best. He wasn’t exactly great with relationships of any kind, but especially not romantic ones. It didn’t take a genius to know that a couple of flirtations, a dead girlfriend he had only seen once, and a long time unrequited (or at least he thought unrequited) infatuation with his best friend and godsons’ mother was not a very great track record.

He, just like you, was also beginning to believe that he was hopeless when it came to love. That 38 was too old, that his time to meet someone and have the children he dreamed of had long passed.

But right as he was about to call JJ, to see if she would invite him in on the case Garcia had started to work on, he saw you.

Unlike you, he remembered your face and your interaction vividly. That almost date with Maeve was one of the biggest defining moments of his life, and what are the chances that the waitress from that very night was now less than 30 feet away from him, reading under the green leaves of a tree.

He wasn’t going to say anything, until he saw the book you were reading.

The Narrative of John Smith.

It must have been a sign, for what he wasn’t exactly sure yet, but it just had to mean something. The universe had to be reaching out to him, he had experienced crazier things.

And just as he was about to walk over to you, to close the gap between the gold strings tied around your ring fingers, a child interrupted his train of thought.

“That’s a strange haircut.”

➽───────────────❥

Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid were finally reuniting after many years. They barely got to see each other these days, but even though he was teaching and working at the BAU, Spencer still was willing to clear his schedule to second Derek suggested they meet up.

Morgan was excited as well, both to see his friend and to hopefully help him get a date. Sure, he had liked what he had heard about Max, but he wasn’t exactly surprised it had only lasted a couple months between her and Spencer. They just seemed too different.

Plus, now he got the chance to play wingman again, and he was ecstatic about that. Spencer not so much.

“I don’t know Morgan, it’s only been a couple months since we broke up. Wouldn’t it be too early to start talking to other people?”

“Pretty boy, you and I both know that the rate in which you’ve had relationships is not even close to the average. You need to balance that out somehow.”

Spencer sighed, he knew Derek was right, but he still felt strange.

“Morgan, have you ever heard of the red string of fate?”

“No, but I’m sure I’m about to hear all about it.”

“It’s an East Asian philosophy, based on the discovery that the ulnar artery connects the heart with the pinky finger, actually that’s where the belief in pinky promises come from. The reason it’s integrated in so many different cultures is that-”

“Kid, you’re losing me here,” Morgan interrupted. “Finish your thing about the string.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. It’s the idea that human relations are predestined by a red string that the gods tie to the pinky fingers of those who find each other in life. Legend has it that the two people connected by this thread will have an important story, regardless of the time, place or circumstances. The red string might get tangled, contracted or stretched, as surely often happens, but it can never break. Essentially, the idea is that although we might not realize it, our lives move in a pre-ordained direction, guided by invisible strings that are woven into the fabric of the Universe itself. And all the while, the red thread connecting us to our distant soulmates is getting shorter.”

“Well it’s an interesting theory kid, but it’s a lot to think about. I mean, we’re in a bar, let loose a little bit. Not every interaction has to be about getting closer to your soulmate. And sure, maybe you’ll meet them one day, maybe even soon. But you’re here now, and just because your one true love may not be, doesn’t mean it’s not worth it to be here.”

Spencer sighed, “You’re right. I don’t even know if I believe in that anyway, maybe I’m just looking for something to explain this all.

Derek patted his friend on the shoulder, “okay pretty ricky, this is how it’s about to go down. I’m going to buy you two drinks. You’re going to take both of them, and go find someone, anyone here to go talk to.”

“Ok, I think I can do that. Who?”

Derek looked around, trying to find who he believed would be the best match for his friend. “How about her?” he asked, pointing at you.

Spencer couldn’t believe it when he looked. There you were, the girl, the one he had met three times before, even if he could only remember two. The woman he knew was some sort of universe sent sign that Saturday he saw you underneath the greenery. The girl he was so close to talking to before he was interrupted by Max’s nephew. The woman who (and he obviously did not know this at the time) he would marry 3 years later. The one who would carefully knit the baby blankets for all of their friends and exes. The one who he would adopt 3 children with. The woman who, he was now sure, was at the other end of his invisible string. The girl he needed to talk to right now.

“Is it just me,” Morgan said, “Or does she look kind of familiar?”

“Yes,” Spencer responded, “yes she does.” He got up quickly and started making strides towards you.

“Wait!” Morgan called, “You forgot your drinks!”

“I don’t need them!” he shouted back. When he sat down next to you, you smiled. It made his heart soar, you had this silly, pure goofy smile that made him want to ask you out right then and there.

Instead he settled on the only conversation starter he could think of.

“Have you ever heard of the invisible string story?”

And you couldn’t help but laugh.

“A string that pulled me Out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons One single thread of gold tied me to you”

- Thank you for reading! Please reblog and let me know what you think :))

[flowersandskeletons526]

“The Harshest Future We Could Have Imagined” - Lumity Future AU Fanfic Part 1

This is set about five years in the future after “Agony of a Witch.” Luz returned home through a broken portal and couldn’t return, but in four years, without the portal being fixed, Amity and the others had to focus on their lives in the present, including the rebellion they started. Now, what will happen when Luz returns to the war-torn world she used to love?

(Link to Ao3 --- https://archiveofourown.org/works/28305051/chapters/69356406)

----

“You really have to go?”

“I do.”

Luz squeezed Amity’s hands, standing before the portal with her backpack and her cloak. Amity kept her eyes down. She struggled to fight back tears, clutching Luz’s hands like a lifeline. They knew this was going to happen. Both had dreaded it all summer, ever since Luz revealed her exact situation to her friends. Willow and Gus already composed themselves - well, Gus was attempting to - and Eda and King were trying and failing not to cry downstairs. Lilith was somewhere rolling her eyes and hiding her emotions. The twins waited outside to bring Amity home once all their goodbyes were said.

Amity glanced at the fractured portal. After finding that Emperor Belos had managed to put it back together, yet another espionage mission was mounted to steal it back. Now, Luz could get back, but she only had this one chance. It killed Luz, having to leave but knowing he was still in power. Especially with Eda and Lilith rendered magicless after the failed petrification… nothing was certain now. Nothing but the fact that Luz had to leave.

Reading Amity’s mind, Luz touched her cheek and turned her head away from the portal. “Amity, I’m going to come back,” she said. “I promise I will.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. I know that I will, though. I got here before, right? I can do it again.”

“When the portal worked. What if we can’t put it back together? What if there’s no way to fix it, w-what if Belos gets it again, what if-”

“Hey, don’t think about that.” Luz pulled her in, wrapping her arms tight around her. Amity buried her face against the crook of Luz’s neck. “I’ll be back. Don’t worry, okay? You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” She pulled back and pressed their foreheads together. “Don’t go soft on me just yet, Blight.”

Amity giggled through her tears. “In your dreams.”

“Look after this place for me, okay?”

“I will.”

She cupped the witch’s cheek. “And Ami?”

Amity blushed at the nickname. “Y-Yeah?”

“Don’t forget me.”

“Never.”

Luz planted a quick kiss on Amity’s cheek and pulled her into a tight hug. Amity held onto her hand as long as she could as she turned to the portal. Hiding her tears, Luz waved and flashed one last bright smile over her shoulder. She disappeared through the wall of light.

The shaking portal collapsed into a pile of smoldering pieces. Amity collapsed in a heap of silenced sobs.

****

Amity took a deep breath as she approached the Owl House. Hooty, distracted by a bug, perked up when he spotted her.

“Hoot! Hi, angry green haired friend! What’s that? Cupcakes? I looooove cupcakes! Hoot!”

Amity bared her fangs. “Don’t touch me, bird tube!”

“Alright! Hoot!”

“Sorry. Here, that one’s for you.” Amity tossed the treat in the air and cringed when Hooty swallowed it whole. “Can I come in?”

“Sure, you can! Wait, was the cupcake a bribe?”

“It’s a peace offering.”

“Okay!”

The door swung open. Eda and Lilith sat at the kitchen table, chatting idly, while King slept curled into a ball on the couch. They paused and looked up when she took a step inside. She swallowed her fear and waved.

“Hi, Eda. Ms. Clawthorne.” The latter greeting was delivered with just a twinge of venom. After hearing about how Eda was captured, about what happened to Luz, Amity still harbored a touch of resentment, even if everyone else seemed to have forgiven it. “Is it alright if I come in?”

“Sure, kid,” Eda said. Any hatred towards the Blights as a whole had been forgiven in Amity’s case. Amity attributed that to Eda’s constant subtle teasing about how she acted around Luz. Although now it just sounded like pity in her voice.

Amity stood beside Eda and set a pack of apple blood boxes on the table next to her.

Eda frowned. “How did you get your hands on this?”

“Emira.”

“She’s one of the twins I almost died with, right? The smart one?”

“Yes.”

“Ah. Well, thanks, kid.”

“You’re welcome. Luz mentioned it.”

Eda nodded and turned aside. Amity swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped over to the couch, kneeling beside King. She gently shook him until he woke with a quiet, “Weh?”

“Hi, King.”

The little demon scowled. “Hello, offering killer.”

“About that.” Amity set the cupcake on the couch in front of him. “I’m sorry.”

He sat up, inspecting the offering. “What’s wrong with it?”

“What? Nothing. It’s to make up for your cupcake I squished. I’m sorry.”

King tilted his head. He looked between Amity and the cupcake for a minute before pulling the sweet closer to him. “Offering accepted. I retract any curses I laid on you.”

“I, uh, thank you?”

“You’re welcome.”

Eda beckoned to Amity as she stood. “C’mere, kid. Come sit. Now, not that I’m complaining, but I have to ask. What’s up with all this.”

Amity took the offered seat and bowed her head. “Luz. She… she wanted me to stick around. She told me to before she left, so I figured it would be good to at least try to make up for what I’ve done. You are her family, after all.”

Eda sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Right. That’s right. Well, look, you don’t have anything to make up for anymore. You and the other two troublemakers are always welcome here. I know Luz will want to see you all when she gets back.”

“Do you think she will come back?”

“Of course. I mean hey, it’s already been what, a month? And we’ve already got all the books possible on fixing the old thing.”

“Four weeks, two days, and five hours,” Lilith interrupted. Amity and Eda stared at her. She cleared her throat. “I’ve been keeping track.”

Eda smirked and squeezed her sister’s hand. She turned back to Amity, reaching out to touch her shoulder. Amity flinched beneath the gentle pat. Eda paused, just long enough for Amity to relax, and tried again. This time, Amity just sighed as Eda rubbed her back.

“She’ll come back. It’s Luz, after all. Knowing that kid, she’s already got a new portal halfway finished in the human world.”

“You really think so?”

“Absolutely.”

****

“Absolutely not!”

“But Mom, I-”

“Amity, that is enough!” Odalia Blight slammed her hands down on her desk, looming over her youngest daughter standing across from her. “You are forbidden from returning to that den of criminal activity ever again. Do you understand me? If I ever hear about you so much as heading in that direction again, you will be sorry. Titan, I should have known this would happen after that fiasco at the petrification. That Clawthorne woman never should have been in the Emperor’s coven to begin with, considering her criminal sister.”

“Eda isn’t a criminal! Okay, well, technically, but not for any good reasons! And Lilith isn’t bad either, not anymore. She’s better than she was when you approved of her!”

Odalia scoffed. “Please. I know what is best for you, young lady, and I have made my decision. You are not to return to that place ever again or associate with anyone connected to it, including that half witch and the reporter’s runt.”

“But Luz-”

“Oh, the human! That’s where this began! I should have put a stop to this behavior as soon as Boscha’s parents told me you were hanging around her. This is what is best for you.”

“No it’s not!” Amity hollered. Odalia froze at the outburst. “Luz is my best friend and I’m not going to let you talk about her like she’s nothing! Not her, not Willow, and not Gus! They are better than anyone you ever picked for me and care about me more than you ever did.”

“You will do what I say! I am your mother!”

“I want what is best for you!” Odalia protested.

“You want a perfect daughter as head of the Emperor’s coven,” Amity retorted. “I’m not abandoning them like I already abandoned Willow. And I’m not abandoning the Owl House, either. You can’t make me.”

“I don’t care!”

Amity regretted the words the moment they left her tongue.

Odalia froze. Her face went deadly cold, eyes like ice as she leveled a vicious glare at her daughter. Amity shrunk.

“You don’t care that I’m your mother?”

“I-I… I didn’t mean…”

“Hmph. Fine. Then our name shouldn’t matter to you. If you are going to keep associating with the Clawthornes, you can take their name instead. Anything but Blight.”

“What?”

“Get out of this house, Amity.”

“Mom!”

“Get. Out.”

Amity took a step back. Tears burned her eyes. She clenched her fists and scowled.

“Fine.”

She spun on her heel and marched out. Flying to her room, she slammed the door behind her and grabbed a bag. She shoved a few regular outfits inside, along with her books, her school uniform, and her box of keepsakes with her Grom tiara in it. She shouldered the pack and bolted out of the house.

The twins intercepted her before she reached the door. Their ever present smiles disappeared when they saw her face, streaked with tears.

“Mittens, what’s wrong?” Emira asked.

“Ask Mom.” Amity shoved past them.

“Wha- Amity, wait, where are you going?”

“The Owl House!”

The massive doors of Blight Manor slammed shut behind her.

Casting a light spell, she ran through the Isles all the way to the Owl House. She never stopped or looked back, even as hot tears poured down her cheeks. When she reached her destination, Hooty let her in without so much as a hoot.

Eda gave her just a passing glance as first when she marched in, then whipped her head around when Amity’s appearance registered. Amity stood in the doorway, shaking and panting, clutching her pack to her chest. She scrubbed at her face and scrambled to regain some of her composure.

“Eda, Lilith, I, um… C-Can I…?”

“Kid, what happened?” Eda asked.

Amity shook her head. “My mom kicked me out. She told me I had to stop coming here and said I had to do what she said because she’s my mother and I told her I didn’t care so she kicked me out. I just… Can I stay here? Please? I-I don’t have anywhere else to go right now.”

“Of course. Come on, you’ll stay in Luz’s old room. Lilith, help me get her set up.”

That night, Amity cried herself to sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor, clutching her pillow and cursing all the years she spent in that controlling hell already.

The next day, the twins came by with the rest of her belongings, most of them dirty and broken.

“She threw them out the window?” she asked when they told her what happened.

“Well, she had the servants do it for the most part, but yes,” Edric replied. “Look, Amity, if you just apologize-”

“No,” Amity snapped. “I’m not apologizing to her. I’m staying here.”

Emira put a hand on her twin’s shoulder. “Ed, drop it. Look, Mittens, we’re here if you need us, okay? We’ll see you at school.”

The two hugged their baby sister and waved to Eda and Lilith sitting in the living room. Amity watched them disappear down the trail before shutting the door silently. She leaned her head against the wood for a quick moment before straightening.

“You okay, kid?” Eda asked.

“I’m fine.”

The next morning, Amity approached Lilith with a pair of clippers in hand. “Lilith?”

“Yes, Amity?”

“You do your own hair, right?”

“I dye it on occasion, when the orange roots start to become noticeable.”

“Will you help me cut my hair, please?”

“Of course.” Lilith closed her book and stood. “How did you want to cut it?”

“Cut off all the green dye.”

“Are you sure? That would make your hair quite short.”

“I’m sure. I just want it gone. I’m not going to let anyone force me to dye my hair again.”

Lilith frowned. “Your mother-”

“Please help me cut it.”

“Alright. Come here.”

****

“Okay, these are the outposts we know of so far.”

Gus spread a map over a rickety table. Orbs of light hovered in the tunnel above them, illuminating the little meeting place dug beneath Hexside. Willow and Amity knelt on either side of him and watched as he gestured to little markers on the creased parchment. Emira stood behind Gus, watching over his shoulder with Viney and the rest of the detention kids.

“Belos has squads of guards here, here, and here, and then multiple roving patrols through the marketplace and around Hexside. As long as we stay in the tunnels for meetings, we should be fine.”

Amity idly ran her hand over the short sides of her undercut, with the long part on top pulled into her normal short ponytail. With Lilith’s help over two years ago, she cut out all the green dye and never touched it with a drop of pigment afterwards.

After the meeting, the group said their goodbyes and took off down different tunnels of Gus’s making. Willow and Emira hung around with Amity as she extinguished the light orbs.

“Has Eda made any progress on the portal?” Willow asked after a moment of silence.

Amity sighed. “No. Nothing. We haven’t even gotten a flicker from it. I…” She shook her head and extinguished another light, trying not to think about the missing human. “I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

“How long has it been?”

“Too long.”

Willow nodded and touched Amity’s hand. “They’ll find a way to fix it.”

“I hope.”

Willow took off, leaving Amity alone with her sister. Emira leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. Amity stopped and turned to her sister.

“Have you heard anything from Edric?” the elder asked.

“Nothing. Has he been talking to you?”

“Not a word. He hasn’t told Mother and Father, I know that, but he stopped talking to me as soon as he learned about this. He doesn’t even play pranks with me anymore.”

Amity scoffed. “He’s trying to become their favorite child.”

“I think he is, at this point.”

“Right.” She held a light orb between her hands. “I heard they made Dad the leader of the emperor’s coven.”

“They did. It’s no wonder Edric is trying to get in so badly. I still can’t believe he’s doing all this.”

“Me neither. Look, I have to get back to the Owl House and keep helping Eda with the portal.”

Emira bowed her head with a tight lipped grimace, watching Amity with pity in her eyes. “Mittens, do you really think you’re going to get her back?”

“I know I will!” Amity snapped, but the anger faded quickly. “She promised she would come back.”

“Not all promises can be kept.”

“I know that, but we’re going to find a way. We have to.”

“Okay.” Emira hugged her sister and kissed the top of her head, still so much taller than her even after the years that had passed. “You’ll figure this out, Mittens. They can fix it.”

Amity just nodded and hugged her sister tighter.

****

Edric stood on the edge of a crumbling roof. Fires raged around him in the burning marketplace, littered with the bodies of fallen Emperor’s coven soldiers and wounded rebellion fighters fleeing the scene. His white cloak was stained red, and his sharp beaked mask hung around his neck. He leaned heavily on his staff.

In the street below, Amity wielded her own staff with its snarling tiger palisman. She growled at her brother while her friends fell into line behind her. Emira stood at her side, watching Edric not with anger, but heartbreak in her eyes.

“Ed, please!” she called. “This isn’t you!”

“Enough, Emira!” he roared. “I’m done being the stupid twin. Now it’s time for me to do what you and Amity failed to. I’m going to lead the Emperor’s coven after Dad and my career is going to start with ending your stupid rebellion!”

“You know Belos is wrong!” Amity protested. “This isn’t going to end how you want, Edric. Please just come with us.”

“Never!”

Amity shook the tears from her eyes and cast a spell circle. “Fine.”

A pink flame lit in her hand. Emira grabbed her arm.

“Mittens, no!”

“If he’s not going to join us, he’s against us! Belos is going to fall, Edric. Belos, the coven system, all of it. Including you.”

“Grow up, Amity. It’s time all three of us started acting like Blights. If you two won’t, I will.” Edric lifted his head. “Soldiers, retreat!”

Amity watched her brother flee with the rest of the soldiers. She gripped her staff and turned to Willow and Gus and the others standing behind her. “Everyone out of here!” she ordered. “Before they send reinforcements back. At least we know our enemy now.”

“Our brother,” Emira said quietly.

“Our enemy,” Amity repeated. “Willow, Gus, let’s go.”

The pair followed Amity back to the Owl House. They walked in silence, all three contemplating the day’s battle and the new development. There were suspicions of Edric’s involvement, but they hadn’t known the extent. And the fact that he was leading a command…

Amity, although hiding it beneath her rage, wanted to weep and curse at the sky. Her own brother! After all those years of him and Emira goofing off, never conforming to their parents’ expectation, leaving all the vicariously realized dreams to fall upon Amity, she never could have imagined him becoming so fed up with Emira’s jesting that he would turn his back on the both of them. She cursed under her breath thinking about it and forced the thoughts from her head. She couldn’t afford getting stuck in her thoughts now. She had the rebellion to think about, the rebellion that Willow founded and the two of them now led together. The rebellion, keeping the Owl House hidden, fixing the portal…

Titan, she couldn’t even afford to think about the portal anymore. Four years passed without anything working, and then the rebellion started with Willow’s attempted assassination of Belos a year ago.

Amity glanced at Willow beside her. A long scar wrapped around her eye from her forehead down to her jaw. She cut her hair short and wild to display it with pride. They all bore scars now, but Willow’s scarred face had become a symbol of the rebellion with her wanted poster plastered all over the Isles. Amity, although a leader herself, didn’t envy the responsibility Willow gained. Her speech all those years ago is what sowed the seeds, after all.

Hooty greeted them when they returned and flung the door open. Amity sighed and rubbed her eyes as they stepped inside, keeping her head down. She hadn’t noticed Willow and Gus stopping in their tracks by the door.

“Eda, Lilith, we found the new commander Belos has,” she said.

“Amity,” Eda said, rising from her seat. “Look up.”

She did.

Standing across from her was a tall girl with rich dark skin and fluffy brown hair pushed out of her face. Wide, fiery brown eyes locked with her golden stare. She was taller now, finally overtaking Amity, and her weak nerd arms had developed built and defined muscles. Her gently rounded ears were pierced with multiple golden rings. Despite everything, her bright smile was still the same, and it still sent Amity’s heart racing.

Amity sucked in a sharp breath.

“Luz?”

The girl grinned.

“Hey, Amity.”

[sarah-writes-marvel]

Without A Scratch: Avengers x gn!Reader

S.S.: Hello, heres another fic. I know Im very inconsistent with writing but Im working on it! Thanks to everyone who likes my posts I really appreciate it!! Hope you like this one!

Warnings: Car crash!!, police officers, medical staff, panic attacks... idk what else, let me know if I missed something!

Word Count: 1,834

* I know it says Avengers x Reader, but it only features Tony, Nat and Bucky.... :)

** Mx: gender neutral for Mrs., Miss, or Mr. jsut an fyi for anybody who doesnt know! 

MASTERLIST

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

There was a distant ringing in my ears. The sound of honking horns and brakes screeching to a stop and sirens seemed muffled. The sun seemed brighter than it had been. My body was buzzing with adrenaline and the feeling in my fingers was gone.There was debris amongst the road, pedestrians standing along the road or with one foot out of their car looking over their opened doors.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” a grey-haired woman stopped my wandering, her hands placed on my shoulders. Others stood next to her, barely within my vision through my helmet.

“I think so.” I mumbled, turning around to the wreck that I had just barely escaped with my life. My motorcycle laid in pieces off to the side of the intersection. The car that had run through the red light was wrecked, the front slightly crumpled from impact.

Police cars surround the area, immediately blocking off the road and encouraging pedestrians and drivers to detour. Emergency medical staff jumped from the ambulances, two coming towards where I stood with the older woman, and two to the man who looked unconscious in the front seat.

“Mx, my name is Alex Khan and this is my partner Trey Alpin. Do you know your name?” His voice was urgent and demanding, but not aggressive.

“My name is Y/f/n Y/l/n.” My voice wavered and shock began to overwhelm my senses. My hands grasped at my helmet, struggling to pull it off.

“Hold on, let me help you. We don't want to add insult to injury.” his partner insisted his hands hooking under my helmet and carefully pulling it off of my head. 

“Alright Ms. Moon. Can you walk?” and despite it sounding like the dumbest question considering I was standing right in front of them, my knees gave out before giving them an answer. “We’ve got you.”

I turned to the older woman who still stood there with her hand covering her mouth and tears welling in her eyes. “Thank you.”  she replied with a simple nod and a reassuring smile before the two paramedics helped me to the back of one of the ambulances at the scene.

“Is the driver alright?” I asked after they sat me on the end of the truck, a shock blanket wrapped around my shoulders.

“Lets focus on you first then we’ll get an update on him for you.” Alex smiled. 

Trey stood to the next to him jotting down notes, before setting it to the side as Alex moved to the other ambulance.

“Stare at my finger for me.” he said, holding his index finger in front of my face before shining a light into my eyes, checking for the pupil's reaction. “Good, no concussion.” He said with a reassuring smile.

He wrote it down amongst the other notes on the clipboard before turning back. “Do you mind taking off your gear so I can check for breaks or sprains?” I nodded quietly, shrugging off the shock blanket and tugging at the zipper of the leather jacket covering my top.

“Also do you have someone that you can call?” He asked, filling the silence as I winced pulling my arms from the sleeves.

“I do but my phone was in my bike’s hideaway compartment. So I highly doubt it's functional anymore.” I said, giving a small smile.

“No worries, you can borrow a phone from any of us after I check you over for injuries.”

 His hands were cold compared to my burning skin as he ran them down my arms, moving my wrists careful of the road rash across my knuckles that wore through my gloves. “Does that hurt?” I shook my head no as he repeated the same motions on my other arm receiving the same response.

His hands moved to the back of my neck squeezing along the sides of my spine, eliciting a slight wince from me. “Did that hurt?”

“Just a little.” 

“Sorry” he pressed his lips together and his eyebrows furrowed. He stepped to the side continuing down my back with one hand without any other trouble. “Just some slight whiplash, nothing major, just be cautious with activities.”

He moved back in front of me, his hands settling on my highest rib, slowly trailing down my sides before I grimaced at the gentle touch he was using. “Sorry” he muttered before continuing.

“So that might be a break or just a crack but you'll have to take a ride with us to get that x-rayed.”

“Uhm, can I actually make my call while you continue to check me over?” I asked quietly, my mind still a little muddled with the fact that I was sitting in the back of an ambulance with a fractured rib being my worst injury.

“Of course.” He pulled his phone from his uniform pocket, unlocking the screen and opening the keypad. “Here you go. I'm just going to run over your legs and then wrap your hands.” I only nod in confirmation as I begin typing in the number.

After a few rings, the line clicked. “Tony Stark who is this and why are you calling me?”

“Tony…” My voice cracked trying to hold back the tears that had begun to form in my eyes.

“Y/n/n? What happened? Friday get a read on the call.” he called to the A.I. frantically.

“I got into a wreck.” I said my voice wavering as tears threatened to spill over “Im at 42nd and 11th.”

“On it.” And with that the call ended, and the panic set in.

“Thanks. Can I get oxygen or something? I- I cant breath.” I say handing Trey his phone back, my hands shaking and my breathing become erratic.

“Yea, of course one second.” He agreed hopping into the truck grabbing a tank and mask, setting up and bringing it back to me. I held the mask over my nose doing my best to take calming breaths as he brought the blanket back over my shoulders.

Commotion amongst the street caused me to open my eyes back up to see Tony in his Ironman suit landing next to the street blocked signs. A black lamborghini pulled up behind him, Bucky and Nat stepping out. It was amusing to watch the police hold their hands out, trying to block the trio from entering into the restricted area, but with a flip of a badge from Nat and a scolding from Tony, they stepped aside. 

The trio took a minute analyzing the damage, noting the obliterated bike that belonged to their second youngest Avenger. The plastic and metal spread across the street casting shadows from the flashing red and blue lights. The car that was stopped in the middle of the intersection with the hood crumpled. 

“Oh my god, Y/n/n.” Nat was the first to wrap me carefully into a hug. “Are you ok? What happened?” Bucky and Tony stood behind her both with rage in their eyes.

“Some guy ran a red light. I’m ok.” I said casting my gaze to the other ambulance where it seemed that the driver was still unresponsive.

“The only points of concern are thier minor whiplash, the road burns and fractured ribs 5-7 on the left side. I suggest getting an xray to make sure they are only fractures and nothing more and a CT scan for any other internal injuries that I can't diagnose here. I would offer a ride to the hospital but I realize that you will have better medical technology at the Avengers Tower.” Trey listed, smiling at the three Avengers standing there.

“Thank you very much for taking care of her. Apply at Stark Industries, I’ll find a place for you on the medical staff.” Tony smiled.

“Let's get you home.” Bucky spoke quietly, and I agreed adamantly.

“They’ll have to report to one of the police officers before leaving the scene.” Trey reminded us as I grabbed my jacket and helmet.

“Thank you.” Nat said, helping me from my spot. “Can you walk?” I nodded. Setting down the oxygen and dropping the blanket from my shoulders. I gripped onto her hand and pushed against the ambulance bed with the other to get onto my feet.

I took a minute to find my balance, hanging onto Nat for support. Her arm was wrapped around my waist as she helped me walk over to one of the police officers.

“Are you the motorbike rider?”

“Yes sir.” I replied, releasing my grip on Nat, noting that Bucky and Stark were standing closely behind on guard.

“I just have some routine questions for you quickly.” I nodded my head and he began asking the questions.

After the officer finished his follow up he thanked me before Nat began to pull me away from the scene.

“Wait. I asked about the driver of the car. I haven't heard anything.” I stopped turning around to see paramedics surrounding the bed of the other ambulance.

“Honey, don't worry about him. Come on let's get you home.” Nat insisted. I pulled away from her grip stumbling slightly.

“Just because he ran a red light and hit me doesn't make him any less important. I just want to check to make sure he’ll recover.” I argued before making my way over to the commotion.

The paramedics and a few police officers were congregated near the end of the ambulance as I approached. I could hear the orders for medical equipment being called out as I grew closer.

“Excuse me.” I tapped on someone's shoulder. 

“Y/n? Why are you still here?” Trey asked once he had turned to see me.

“I asked earlier about the driver. Will he make a recovery?” I asked peaking over his shoulder to watch paramedics lifting the stretcher into the back.

“He’ll make a full recovery. He'll be spending a few years in prison for this though. If you're worried about insurance coverage dont worry. Officers will get that sorted when he's responsive.” Trey explained.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I just wanted to make sure he’ll make a recovery. Thank you.” I smiled before turning back to the three Avengers waiting at the police barricade.

“Ready to go?” Bucky asked as I joined them. I simply nodded my head as Nat wrapped her arm around me again leading me to the car.

“Let’s go get you healed up. I heard Cho is working on something with broken bones. Maybe you can be a guinea pig!” Tony exclaimed with a smile.

“As intriguing as that sounds I doubt that I’m stable enough to endure whatever it may be.” I replied as I settled into the front seat of the car.

“Fair enough.” Tony smiled. “Im proud of you ya know. For that little thing you just did. For understanding that his life is still important.”

“I learned from the best.” I looked at the three of them, each having a proud smile across their face.

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

S.S: Hope you all liked it!! Again dont be afraid to request. I also realize that alot of my fics seem to have a little (or lot) of angst. Ill try and make some more fluffy fics soon! Thanks for reading!

[muddyhippy]

A Tangled Problem 

Adorable artwork by the ever-lovely @smolghostings

Updated on AO3 here

Lily padded into the common room still quite sleepy but with a single goal in mind. She’d got up out of Jonny’s bunk whilst he was still fast asleep, carefully extracting herself from his cuddling arm determined to get washed, dressed and make a nice breakfast for everyone.

 She’d had another bad nightmare and Jonny had stayed up late with her telling stories and singing. He made her feel safe and cared for enough that the nightmares stopped being horrible and scary in her head for the rest of the night so she wanted to let him sleep and make a tasty breakfast. Her plan was going quite well when she washed and dressed but was too excited and distracted by recipe ideas when tackling her locks and then quickly got stuck, literally, when it came to brush her hair.

 Lily’s hair was a thick mass of candyfloss-soft silvery tangles at the best of times but last night’s upset had obviously made it ten times worse.

 Her brush got stuck and no matter what she did it wouldn’t come free.

 It hurt when she tugged and pulled and struggled. Enough to make tears prick her eyes.

 So she headed to find the one person who’d be probably best to help.

Without ceremony she headed directly to the person she wanted who was sat on the sofa where they usually were this time of a morning, making use of the quiet, completely absorbed in their music to the point they didn’t notice her approach until she climbed into their lap.

 Tim physically startled to suddenly have a lapful of Lily appear between his chest and his guitar and stare intensely at him.

 “Um hello Sweetness?” he began, thoroughly on the back foot.

 “Tim! Help!” She pleaded by way of greeting, tears already spiking.  

 He tensed, fully poised to unquestioningly murder the shit out of whatever that had prompted this response.

 She pointed.

 Tim’s eyes alighted on her very tangled-in-hair brush caught up in her tresses. His eyes ran a quick diagnostic that helpfully returned the report ‘Ouch’.

 “Oh.” He considered why she was showing him this and came up with nothing, “Um why—?”

 “Because Jonny’s asleep,” She explained simply, “and you’ve got the prettiest hair, you tangle it all up in your goggles but it always ends up nice and untangled again so you’ve got to be good at hair-brushing.”

 That, that was an impressive leap of logic he had to give her that.

 “But Raphaella…?” He began weakly.

 “She has really pretty hair too and it’s even longer than yours but it’s never tangled! Yours does so you’ve got more practice at fixing it. Please?” She sniffed, “I’ve tried and tried and it only hurts more.”

 Tim took pity on her, that snarl up did look painful and it was obvious everything she’d tried had made it worse.

 Plus, she was doing the look that Jonny warned him about, the whole ‘her-eyes-take-up-half-her-face-look’ that made his insides get twisty and him want to fix whatever the matter was every time she pulled it.

 He suddenly understood why Jonny was willing to do as much stuff as he did. Lily was bloody hard to say no to when she looked like a particularly sad octokitten.

 “Um, alright then.” He carefully put down his guitar to give the small, miserable child his full attention.

 It really was a disaster. Tim considered his approach whilst ignoring the growing warmth in his chest at the idea that the little girl who’d joined them not that long ago apparently trusted him enough to ask for help with something personal that had left her vulnerable. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Probably Bertie. Best not think about that then.

 “Okay Sweetness, can you turn around for me so I can get to the brush please?”

 She sniffed again, “Okay, thank you Tim,” she pressed a heartfelt kiss to his bearded cheek before turning around obviously utterly convinced that he’d got this and she trusted him implicitly that he’d make this better.

 Fuck, he hated Jonny for not being awake.

 Tim, not for the first time since Lily joined them, regretted being an only child with absolutely no sibling experience to deal with situations like this.

 Ah fuck it, he’d do his best.

 Using his enhanced vision, the patience he used when cleaning and repairing his weapons and the comb he kept in his coat pocket but would never admit to, he very carefully, painstakingly, detangled her hair.

 After half an hour he managed to free the brush from her head then proceeded to comb all her locks clear so she would be tangle free for the next five minutes at least. Maybe he’d have to ask Ashes to show Lily how to plait properly since he’d seen Ashes wear some excellent styles over the years and their hair length was closer to Lily’s than Raph’s was.

 He’d never bothered to learn, he liked having long hair, it was something that was his own rebellion after strictness at school and whilst he was completing his mechanical engineering apprenticeship. It was easy to tuck it up under a cap after all.

 He’d tried not to show how heartbroken he’d been when he’d been conscripted and shorn short again. Bertie had known of course and told him he was still just as handsome. During the time in the tunnels his hair had grown out again since no one was really paying attention to uniform rules in the depths of the war.

 He’d kept it long ever since. He wasn’t sure if it was out of defiance or as tribute to Bertie who’d never been able to keep his fingers out of it when they were alone together.

 Tim mentally shook himself, now was definitely not the time to start down that track. That route led to months locked in the armoury, building non-stop. Or murdering Jonny repeatedly for being a dick (or just being present). Neither of which were viable responses right now.

 “Right then, I think we’re done, turn around for me Lily.”

 The little girl shuffled around on his lap to face him, she shook her head slightly, smile immediately blossoming across her face. “It feels so nice! Thank you!”

 Little arms engulfed him in a grateful hug, enveloping him like the octokitten she masqueraded as half the time.

 The master-at-arms was unspeakably relieved he’d not fucked this up, “You’re very welcome Sweetness, now, let’s show you how to brush your hair without it getting all tangled up. Sound good?”

 “Yes please! Jonny helps me a lot but he doesn’t know as many tricks.”

 “Jonny doesn’t have as much patience, he’s had longer hair a few times but mostly because he couldn’t be bothered to cut it.”

 “Did he have hair as long as yours?”

 “No. Just to his shoulders.”

 “Oh.” She considered, “Mine’s already nearly that long.”

 “I had noticed.” He couldn’t help grinning, as she tried assess the length of her hair first by tipping her head forwards to see, realising that wasn’t working then using her hand to feel the end of her lengths whilst trying to look out of the corner of her eyes. Her little tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth in solidarity and concentration.

 “I want to grow mine more.”

 “Oh yes?”

 “Yes! So I can be as pretty as Raphaella and you!”

 Tim felt both the blush and lump rise.

 “That’s, that’s kind of you to say Sweetness, but you’re lovely just as you are. You don’t have to look like anyone else to be better in some way.”

 Lily paused and thought about it.

 “Well, I won’t be exactly like you and Raphaella,” she conceded, “my hair’s a different colour.”

 He couldn’t argue with the statement, she was a lot lighter than even Raphaella, “That’s very true.”

 “But I still want it long. I think it’ll be even nicer long.”

 Tim couldn’t help but smiling at that very familiar conviction, “Then I best show you how to look after it then shouldn’t I?”

 Lily beamed, lighting up the way she did whenever any of them took time to show her something. It was why they all, without exception, took time to demonstrate things to her. They might be immoral, immortal space pirates but none of them were above wanting to feel like a hero for teaching a kid to tie her shoe laces, flip pancakes or make belt holes. “Yes please!”

 Which is why Brian walked in twenty minutes later looking for his fellow chef to find Lily and Tim in the middle of a hair brushing lesson, The child sat on the master-at-arms lap facing him, little tongue was back poking out in concentration, a long hank of Tim’s glossy tresses held reverentially in Lily’s tiny hand, her other carefully brushing it through as Tim talked her through the method of working in stages, his hands guiding hers, starting at the bottom and slowly working up to the roots.

 Brian cleared his throat

 Mechanised eyes zeroed in on the pilot, “This isn’t what it looks like—” Began Tim, colour rising dramatically in his face.  

 Brian raised an eyebrow.

 “Tim’s teaching me to brush hair properly so my brush doesn’t get all tangled up in my hair again because that hurts!”

 Tim sighed, utterly defeated.

 “You know,” commented Brian, attempting to sound innocuous, “that looks exactly like what’s happening.”

 Lily looked puzzled, “That’s because it is.”

 “Quite right too,” Agreed the pilot, “looks like you’re doing a good job.” Brian took closer notice of their youngest crewmember, her usually wild mass of waves looked decidedly neat with that glossy sheen that only came with extensive grooming. “Did Tim do yours earlier?”

 “Yes! He’s really good! I got my brush stuck in my hair and he got it out and brushed it really nicely! I asked him because he has really pretty hair and is good at getting tangles out of it after he wears his goggles. He’s really gentle and clever at it!”

 Brian was amused to watch battle of emotions war over Tim’s face pride, pleasure, embarrassment and fury all crossed his face, clearly annoyed that this moment of softness with Lily was being witnessed.

 Brian found he didn’t care all that much for Tim’s comfort, this was more important. Tim and Lily were bonding over something other than guns, completely unprompted. This was good progress. The fact that Tim was obviously trusted enough by Lily for her to ask his help and that he’d clearly given it freely said a lot about how comfortable they were becoming together which wasn’t bad for barely three weeks on board for Lily. Then again, last week her nightmare-stricken visit to Tim’s room that night she couldn’t find Jonny had probably cemented him as a ‘safe’ adult she could go to when the first mate wasn’t available.

 Brian hoped the rest of them would become as easy to approach eventually.

 It was nice to be reminded that deep under everything, he and his crew, at a push, could remember how to be kind.

 “Right well, I’ll leave you to finish. Would you like me to start breakfast Lily?”

 The child paused, looking conflicted.

 “I am more than happy to.” Brian clarified.

 Relief flooded her little face, “Oh um, yes please.”

 “Did you have a plan?”

 “Scrambled eggs and bacon and pancakes.” She recited her intended feast immediately. Jonny liked pancakes, said his mummy made them for him sometimes when she had the time and they were still his favourite if he had to choose.

 Bacon had been a completely new food for Lily, but she loved how the saltiness of the slices complimented the sweetness of the pancakes, she wanted to learn how to make the syrup Ashes liked to go with it too. Eggs were very special because they were a treat on her ship, they had a few sealed cartons that they opened for very special events. On Aurora she could have eggs for every meal if she wanted AND they were fresh! In shells!

 Brian had explained gently that eggs were more of a breakfast food and it was better to have them in one meal a day rather than more because she might get bored of them. (Also he was worried how much more omelette/poached eggs/boiled eggs/scrambled eggs/frittata/fried egg combinations the crew could endure with a smile and he really didn’t want to put off their newest member from the job she liked. Thankfully Lily took instruction and hints with equal grace).

 “Sounds good to me!” Approved Tim, feeling that she shouldn’t feel all that bad about not cooking one meal.

 Brian smile widened, pleased she was deciding to spend more time with Tim, “Me too, right then, I’ll get started, you can join me when you and Tim are done. See you later.” He left the scene as the two continued their lesson.

 “Right then, reckon you can do the rest before Brian finishes?”

 “Yeah!”

 Tim arrived to breakfast on the table, Lily holding his hand, the two looking decidedly neater than normal.

 As the others began to gently tease and pass the pancakes Brian looked over the group, his family, and couldn’t help but smile.

[stareyedmoonchild]

@dawnwave16​ hope you don’t mind, but I had to modify the dialogue a bit to fit the scenario. I hope you enjoy it.

Marinette knew things would end like this. Don’t ask her how she knew, because she wouldn’t be able to give a good enough answer other than, “It’s Gotham,” but here she was, running from the psychotic killer clown inside an abandoned warehouse.

Pause! You must be wondering what lead up to this. Well, allow me to indulge your curiosity.

It all began when Marinette’s parents where requested to cater at the New Year Charity Gala hosted by Bruce Wayne himself. Apparently he wanted the best, and from what he could gather it was them. He even offered to pay for the airfare and suite that they would be staying at for two weeks, their own kitchen too. With all this being offered, who were they to say no? Besides, it’s Bruce fucking Wayne. You must be out of your mind to say no to a man with that influence, well, unless you're Tony Stark. Now that man has denied almost every invite from Mr. Wayne, mainly because he would try to out shine Bruce with his own gala, but that’s besides the point.

Anyways, the point is they said yes, which lead them to them flying out to Gotham. 

“Now Marinette, while we are here try not to bring too much unwanted attention to yourself. This is the world’s most dangerous city, and we don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Her mother said, with a stern voice.

“That being said we came up with a list of Rules,” her father said, as he sat straighter in his seat looking her dead in the eye. 

“Do not talk to strangers,” Her mother began.

“Do not stay out past sunset,” her father followed. 

“Most of all if something doesn't feel right, you immediately head head back to the hotel.” 

“Try to avoid any and all confrontations”

By the time the plane landed, Marinette had more than a hundred rules to follow, and the worst thing was that she wouldn't even remember half of them.

"Maman, Papa, please, I'll be fine. Besides, how bad could the city be? It should be nothing compared to the akumas we face on a daily basis," Marinette reassured, but for some reason, she felt as if something was going to happen. Something that would go horribly wrong, and if she wasn't careful, it would be her life on the line.

If only she listened to that feeling.

Over the course of their stay, she was very diligent when it came to helping with the baking and decorating of various desserts. Her parents feeling as she deserved a break from the kitchen, told her to go outside and enjoy the city. Before she could argue, they were already pushing her out of the kitchen and out the door, saying, "be back by sunset."

With that, Marinette found her herself in the streets of Gotham. 

It was okay, she didn’t really stray too far from the building where her parents are working, and just sat outside at few tables that coffee shops set up, and drew.  However, that didn’t mean she didn’t notice the few looks and mutterings of passerby. 

“Excuse me.”

Turning her head to look behind her, she saw a boy about her age. He had this somewhat rich kid vibe, mainly because of the uniform he was wearing.

“Can I help you,” she asked, with near perfect English. 

‘Thank you for those lessons Adrien,’ she thought.

“I was wondering, could I take a picture with you,” seeing the her unsure look, he continued saying, “I know that it’s a weird question, but I feel like your going to be someone pretty soon, and I would like to one of the few who gets to say I met you before the fame. Hope that’s cool with you.”

“uh, okay,” Marinette said, still a bit unsure.

“Sweet,” He said excitedly.

He was quick about it. Wrapping a friendly arm around her shoulders, with a big grin on his face, as Marinette posed with a timid smile and peace sign. Soon enough there was a quick flash and the picture was done.

“Thanks,” he said, as he ran.

Marinette just stared at his vanishing form, and just shrugged it off. 

‘That was weird. Must be an American thing,’ she thought, going back to her drawing. If only she knew that the picture would be posted later that night, with the caption, “Possible new Wayne?” If only she knew that it would blow up. If only she knew that villains like to keep up with almost all topics about the Wayne family.

It was only on the fourth day of their stay, and Marinette wanted to get some fabrics for her families outfits for the Gala. when permission was granted she went to the nearest fabric shop, only to lose track of time. 

She’s so grounded after this. 

She turned into an alley, that Google said was a short cut. Holding the fabrics closer to her person, she began to feel as if something was following her. Something that had malicious intentions, and if she wasn’t careful, her life could very well be over. 

Marinette began to walk faster, and faster until eventually she found herself running. She didn’t even notice that she dropped her fabrics. Her heart was pounding in her ears, but when she heard it, the being that was her predator, the laugh that she only heard from countless videos from people who had close encounters with this person, it only got louder and faster. Her blood becoming ice in her veins, and by now she was running on pure adrenaline. If the sound on the video sent shivers down her spine, it was nothing compared to the real thing. 

That’s what lead her to where she is now, taking shelter in an abandoned warehouse, running from a killer clown. Fun.

‘Think brain, think,” she thought, looking round for a good place to hide so she could come up with a plan.

Her attention caught a corner were a good amount of boxes could, if arranged properly, hide her from plain sight. She got to work immediately, and by luck found a crowbar that she could use if he did by chance found her. 

Crouching within her box barricade, she slowed her breathing and gripped the crowbar so tight that her hands became white as snow. She was determined to survive this. 

Marinette listened to his footsteps, as he opened the closet on the other side of the room, and as he began to knock things over and rummage the room.

“”Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said slowly, followed by a crazed laugh.

“I just want to make you laugh.”

He stopped in front of her barricade, and head the shift in fabric. She knew her hiding place would be compromised, so she prepared herself for to attack. Everything became slow motion then. 

Marinette burst out from within, with an upward swing to the clowns face. She didn't even give him time to recover from the first blow, she attacked head on and couldn’t stop herself even after he was down. Her mind was telling her that if she stopped for even a moment, her life would be in his mercy. It wasn’t until she felt strong arms wrap around her from behind, restraining her from attacking, the bloody beaten clown. She struggled within their grasp, ignoring the reassuring words coming from their mouth, before headbutting the the man who held her. 

Turning to face this new character, did she get a good look at what was happening around her. Two men were taking the clowns vitals, making sure he would live, the youngest informing them of police and medic’s arrival, the intimidating one in a black cowl, and the bloody crowbar still in her hands. 

Well, this was not a good picture to paint. Especial when you’re in front of four Gotham heroes. She was going to be in some deep shit when she got home. 

“Damn kid, what’s your head made of? Cement? Consider this the last time I take my helmet off as to not scare anyone further than what they are,” Red Hood asked, as he held his nose to stop the blood flow.

“Dude, you should know to use caution when dealing with someone who fight mode, rather than flight,” Nightwing said, as he and Red Robin let the medics take over.

“Yeah, yeah, but she was suppose to be the damsel in distress, right? You know harmless.”

“She was beating Joker to death with a crowbar,” Robin said.

“Still.”

Clearing her throat, Marinette caught their attention and said, “Hi. I was a damsel, I was in distress, I handled it. Have a good night.”

She threw the crowbar to the side, feeling somewhat badass. However, just before she was about to leave she realized she had no idea how to get back to the hotel.

Turning around sheepishly, she said, “Do any of you by chance know how to get to the hotel that Bruce Wayne owns on fifth street?” 

They all looked at Robin.

“Really?”

There was a moment of silence before, the boy sighed and walked toward her.

“Keep up and follow me.”

She smiled, waving goodbye to the other three heroes as she ran to catch up to the boy dressed in traffic light colors.

Bonus:

“So did you find out who she is,” Bruce asked, as Tim turned to face him.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Damian’s age, French, and has parents,” He responded, stressing the last part.

Bruce merely hummed at that bit of information before taking a sip of his coffee. So what if she had parents? It never stopped him before, just ask Barbara. Marinette will become his daughter one way or another, and when that happens, Tony will have nothing on him.

Tim stared at Bruce, knowing full well what was going through his head. Guess it’s time to warn the others of what is to come.

Send a number!

[bangtan-madi]

546 Days Without You — Eleven: Day 412

Pairing — Seokjin x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Seokjin, older brother!Yoongi, producer/songwriter!MC, military au (ish), idol au (ish)

Genre — fluff, angst

Word Count — 3.1k

Summary — Kim Seokjin is your entire world, and that world falls apart the moment he and your older brother Yoongi are conscripted into the South Korean military.

Part — 11 / 15

Warnings — minor language

Previous — Next

Days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. Time flies by as you travel from Korea to Europe, then to the Americas, then to Australia. In the four months that have passed, the amount of concerts has crossed over two-dozen. You've crossed into at least half as many countries across six continents, and this is only the half-way point.

Shortly after the new year, the group finds itself emptying out of the plane. Having landed in Nagoya minutes before, at an ungodly hour of the morning, you struggle to keep yourself awake. Gravity pulls your body towards the earth. The soft rain falls, creating a lullaby for the weary souls trekking towards the ride to the hotel. You'd like nothing more than to let the ground swallow you whole.

Tour has left most of the members worse for the wear, despite the joy and fulfillment that it brings on an almost daily basis. You considered it a gift from the gods that you had a whole 36 hours before the show. Everyone needed a good shower, a proper meal, and a long night's sleep after leaving Melbourne after the last show. If the next concert was going to be a success, the boys and you needed it desperately.

Along with some cheering up. It isn't lost on you that this is the last show for the next month. After Nagoya, you'll all be heading back to Seoul, where Hoseok and Namjoon will begin final preparations for enlistment. Their date is just under a month away; once mid-February arrives, you'll be saying goodbye to two more members.

It's the thought that's consumed your mind as of late. A lot has happened since Seokjin and Yoongi were conscripted; over a year has passed. Both the time and space have allowed you to reevaluate your stance on conscription.

A soft hand shakes your shoulder, bringing you out of your quasi-dream state and back to the moment. Jimin offers you a hand, assisting you in stepping from the car. The hotel is dimly lit against the Nagoya sky, and the famous castle stands high against the horizon. Any other night you might stay and admire for longer, as this city was one of Seokjin's favorites, but you willfully allow your closest friend to tug you into the building.

As Sejin checks the group in for the next few nights, you throw your arms around Hoseok's neck, mumbling, "Up, up."

The brunet bends down, scooping you up and cradling you against his back. Hands under your thighs, arms around his shoulders, head lulling against the crook of his neck, you welcome his comfort — quite literally with open arms. The youngest member kindly grabs your suitcase.  Breathing deeply, your eyes flutter shut once again.

"Jungkookie's right," you slur on the short elevator ride to the upper floor. "You do smell nice."

Hoseok's laugh reverberates through his body, one of the greatest sounds turned to one of the greatest feelings. It's joy taken physical form.

"You're so cute when you're delirious," he chuckles.

"Don't make me out-rap you next time we perform. I have no problem taking my brother's place in 'UGH.'"

Hoseok slides the key to one of the rooms. "Oooh? Threatening me now, are we?"

Nodding against his shoulder, you tighten your arms when he tries to put you down. "M'comfy."

"[Y/n]-ahhh."

"Fiiine."

You drop your clingy arms from around his neck, and Hoseok settles you onto the queen bed in the center of the room. Jungkook drops off your suitcase, giving a small wave before departing for his suite across the hall.

A sudden vibration originating from your jacket pocket causes you to stir. A soft, quiet chorus from Seokjin's last song plays. Your exhaustion suddenly fading, you tug the phone from your pocket. Your boyfriend's face glows on the screen, giving you the option to accept or decline a face-to-face.

A grin spreads across your face, and you accept without hesitation. The call connects, and suddenly you're able to see him. He's already dressed in uniform, the patches on his collar revealing yet another promotion that happened over the new year. This status gives him even more freedom than before, and he can pretty much call you whenever he wants. Yoongi has reached the same status, although he tends to send you more voice memos than actual calls. Just like the two of you used to do.

Seokjin laughs, eyes crinkling up at the corners, at the sight of you on your side. Cheeks mushed up against the pillow, eyes barely open, curled up into a fetal position, you must be a sight for sore eyes.

"Just landed, I see?"

"Shut up," you murmur.

"You look exhausted, Jagi."

"That's because she is, hyung," Hoseok interrupts from across the room. He's finished dragging his suitcase into the room, then opens the door that leads to the other bedroom in the other suite. "Can't you call some other time? We're about to crash."

You roll your eyes and snicker. "Someone's getting cranky."

"He's right,"

Seokjin chuckles, bringing your attention back to his face.

"I just got up, and I wanted to check in, make sure you got to Nagoya safely. That's all. Don't want to keep you up."

Giving a thumbs-up, you force a smile and pull yourself into a sitting position. "Never better! Slept the whole way. How the hell are you up so early?"

"You know me: I'm always the early bird!"

"Yeah, except the earlier you get up, the more chaotic you are. Remember the punching bag and yoga mat incident?"

"Well—"

"—Or the time you about choked on mangos, after calling yourself elegant?"

"Aish! I get it! At least I don't snore when we stay at any—no, every hotel."

Hoseok returns to the doorway, toothbrush shoved into his mouth and an unamused expression on his face. He gestures with a flourish of his hand. "Wrap it up with loudmouth. I'm dead. We can admire your bickering tomorrow when we're human again."

Giving the older member a nod of assurance, you watch in mild amusement as he leaves for the washroom once again. Turning your eyes back to the phone, you find Seokjin mirroring your playful, mischievous expression.

"We're the worst, aren't we?"

"Oh, definitely."

Seokjin sighs, then straightens his posture.

"Do me a quick favor before I hand up?"

"For you, anything."

"Wooow, cheesy, [Y/n.]"

"Be quiet or I might change my mind!"

"Can you show me the Castle? In the center of Nagoya? I'm sure your hotel can see it. You can see it from anywhere, pretty much."

Your smile softens at his request. Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you step towards the balcony door. Even through the window, Nagoya Castle is stunning. Once the door is opened and you step out into the crisp air, you flip the view around so Seokjin can see what you do. The lights around the castle case brilliant golden light across the white and green structure.

"Wooow,"

he breathes, causing you to smile at the screen.

"That's just like how I remember."

"Wish you were here to see it in person."

"You know I would be if I could."

Flipping the screen around so that he can see you once again, you ask, "When can you use the time off you've built up? I didn't think there was anything you had to wait for after your first year."

"Not on paper there isn't," he nods, running a hand over his shortened black hair. "But you haven't been back in Korea since before then—way before then—and I can't leave the country while on leave, so..."

"You can take a day off without us being there, you know."

Seokjin shakes his head stubbornly.

"Not vacation time. Nope, I'm saving all that for when you come back."

"We'll be back for a few days when Joon and Hobi enlist, their ceremony and such," you mention.

"I know..."

His sentence trails off, awkward and hanging in the air. Your boyfriend's eyes avert yours, and something in his voice cues you to pry further.

Tilting your head slightly, you lean against the railing of the balcony. "Why the hesitation?"

"I'm not hesitating, it's nothing."

You cock an eyebrow and smirk. "You're a liar, Kim Seokjin. Fess up."

His lips pull into a smile, and his eyes flutter shut. Not out of exhaustion, as your own so desperately crave, but out of near-annoyance.

"I was going to surprise you, fool! I was going to take off those days and show up at the dorms without telling you...but I guess you read right through me."

To say your jaw dropped in surprise would be a huge understatement. Eyes gaping and breath caught in your throat, you gawk at your boyfriend as he bursts into laughter.

"Surprised, Jagi?"

"Um...yes! You—wait, how? What?"

"Korean, [Y/n]. You can rap for god's sake."

You shake your stun away, forcing watery eyes to remain held together. "You're serious? I'm really gonna see you in less than a month?"

Seokjin's laughter fades, but his eyes are still sparkling.

"Very serious. I've already gotten the time approved."

Tears prick your eyes, and you lower your head into your sweater sleeve to hide from his gaze. This only amuses Seokjin.

"Getting all soft on me again? Your cool exterior is crumbling."

"I hope you know that this is all your fault, you ass. I never used to be this close to crying all the damn time."

"It's cause you've been without me for so long, isn't it? I'm your cure."

The balcony door slides open, revealing a sleepy, disheveled, and unhappy Hoseok. He doesn't say a word, only glowers at you—whites of his eyes hardly visible as he squints—until you sigh, "Fine, I know, I know. Time's up." After which he nods once and disappears back into the hotel.

"I'll go,"

Seokjin agrees, voice lighter than when he first called.

"Gotta do some work sometime today."

You blow a kiss to the camera, one that he pretends to catch and hold against his chest, over his heart. "Love you, miss you, but you know all that."

"I do,"

he teases.

"Love you, miss you, even more."

The next morning, you're awake after most of the other members. The sound of Hoseok drying his hair brings you out of peaceful slumber, much to your grumpy chagrin.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!" he cheers, already fully awake even before coffee.

You give him the universal sign of love and affection, otherwise known as the bird, and stumble towards the other bathroom. Hoseok giggles at your less-than-pleasant attitude and goes about his business as you struggle to get ready.

After stepping from the hotel room, refreshed and ready for the unplanned day, Jimin appears with a cup of coffee extended towards you. "Fuel for m'lady," he greets.

Grateful for the favor, you give him a swift hug and walk at his side towards the recreational area on your floor. Suited with a pool table, miniature bar, breakfast nook, dining and sitting area, it's a perfect place for the whole group to spread out and hang in the free time. Since the members and staff take up most of the rooms on this floor, you basically have it all to yourselves.

"So, what's the plan for the day?" you announce as you enter.

Taehyung looks up from his platter of local tamagoyaki; beside him, Namjoon continues to read the book in hand. "I don't think we've decided," the former states.

"The show isn't until tomorrow night, so we have time to kill," Jungkook states from the breakfast bar. He's piling every kind of Japanese breakfast cuisine he can find onto his plate. "Sejin says we can kill time here if we want."

"Or we can go out and explore with the managers," Hoseok adds as he enters the room. "I don't know about you, but I'm starting to feel claustrophobic."

"Agreed," you mutter. Taking a long sip from your coffee cup, you walk towards the breakfast bar and snag onigiri. Looking around, you make sure that the members are the only ones present. No managers, no staff, no cameras. "I have an idea."

At your lowered voice, you catch the youngest's attention first. Jimin grins in your direction, and you flash them both a mischievous wink. "Aigoo," Namjoon breathes.

"I think we all need to get out of here, and I don't know about the rest of you, but I kinda wanna explore Nagoya like a local. No security, no managers, no babysitters. Think about it--when's the last time we did that?"

"Went out without Sejin or security, and outside of Korea?" Taehyung asks, and you nod. He takes a moment to contemplate, eyes flitting upwards as he thinks. "Honestly, I can't remember."

Hoseok pipes up. "Since before Wings, probably. We're never really alone anymore."

Sensing trepidation from the members, you hop up onto the back of the sofa, perched with legs crossed. You press the tips of your fingers against the opposite hand's, creating a mirror image of mischief in front of your wicked grin.

"Here's my proposal. I've been to Nagoya a couple of times with Seokjin. It's one of his favorite cities, so I know all the best spots for fun. I also know how to avoid staff for the same reason."

"Yeah, you're an expert," Namjoon scoffs.

You hold up a hand in his direction. "Be quiet, Bonsai Boy. The Queen is speaking."

"She's spent too much time with Jin-hyung," Jungkook murmurs under his breath, and you choose to ignore him for now.

"So...who's going to take a leap of faith and trust me?"

Jimin mirrors your folded-hands, then slowly moves to rub them together with a slightly evil chuckle. "I'm in."

"Of course you are."

Jimin grabs the Taehyung and Jungkook by the arm, dragging them closer to you. "They are, too."

Seeing neither Maknae put up an argument to the contrary, you turn your hooded gaze to the eldest members present. "What say ye, Jung Hoseok and Kim Namjoon?"

Hoseok begins bouncing on his toes, clapping his hands together as he turns towards the leader. His smile is bright and wide, earning a sigh and shake of the head from Namjoon.

He gestures towards you with a defeated smile, dimples showing at the corners of his mouth. "Lead the way, Ms. Queen."

Having the agreement from each member, you clap your hands once and announce, "All right! Everyone go grab what they want for an afternoon and evening out. Make sure to grab a cap or beanie and glasses so we can blend in. I'll text the managers and tell them we're going to be hanging out in my room and that we want some alone time. Done it before, and they've never bothered me so I think it'll work. Meet back here in two minutes."

"How do you expect to get out of the hotel without being seen?" Jungkook inquires as he removes his arm from Jimin's grasp.

You reach up and pat the younger boy on the head. "Don't worry. I'm magic."

As everyone scurries back to their rooms, you text Sejin along the way; you give the listed excuse, and then grab a jacket and shoulder bag. Hoseok tosses you one of his beanies, and you pair it with your sunglasses.

Once reconvened, you nod for the boys to follow you. Pressing a finger to your lips, you tip-toe down the hall. The members follow suit, equally as quiet and sneaky, like a series of ducklings behind the mother goose. Instead of going towards the elevator, you lead them to the opposite end of the hallway. The staircase is unmarked and unguarded, but you've stayed at this hotel before on a previous trip and remembered it from then.

Opening the door, you usher each of the boys inside. "Go to the second floor. There's a fire escape we can take from there that will put us outside the building without having to run into everyone waiting in the lobby or the fans outside."

"You're eerily good at sneaking around," Taehyung repeats the sentiment from earlier, though he's smiling instead of shaking his head.

Your grin widens. "Did I ever tell you that my first date with Seokjin involved us sneaking into a theater to hear the live orchestra perform?"

"That makes a lot of sense," Namjoon chides in his usual passive-aggressive tone.

Once outside the hotel, around the corner from the entrance where most of the fanatic fans and insistent reporters pool together, you turn to the boys with two thumbs-ups. "Free at last! So, where do we wanna go? I know the best miso katsu place you'll ever visit. Or maybe we do something outside...or maybe a bit of both! What are we feeling?"

"We just ate," Jimin states, patting his stomach to show he doesn't have any room for more food at the moment.

Tapping your chin, you think back across all of the times Seokjin had taken you on various tours of Nagoya over the years. It's at least half-a-dozen times at this point, and on those days, you'd had a variety of adventures. Food, art, thrills, history: he'd shown you them all. You've explored the Castle and various other historical shrines and temples, and you've been to just about every food market and restaurant in the Showa-ku and Kita-ku wards. Museums and galleries have been ventured, as have tours of local wildlife and expansive parks. There have been many a shopping excursion, and you're an idiot if you think that Seokjin hadn't taken you to an amusement park or arcade at least a couple times. Holiday festivals, cosplay summits, local music--you've done it all.

But there's one adventure you had two years ago that's stuck in your mind ever since, the one day you both had more fun acting like children than any other date prior. A massive grin spreads across your face, and you grab the two oldest members' hands, dragging them towards the nearest subway station.

"Woah! Where are we going?"

"The Meijo Line!"

Taglist — @joyful-jimin​​​​, @gracehiii​​​, @live-2-fangirl​​​, @rjsmochii​​​​, @btsnatalena​

[guiltysecretpasttime]

Adversity (Chapter 2)

This is a follow-up to the first chapter here. Cross-posted in AO3.

Overview: Lin and Tenzin are both at the height of their respective careers – she with the Metalbending Police and he with the Air Nation. Questions about their future begin to arise and things come to a head when Lin responded to an emergency call. Would her job take them from each other forever? Eventual HEA. Non-canon compliant, AU. (Notes at the end of the post.)

--

Tenzin woke up with a start.

From his vantage on his bed, he could see the soft colors of the sky changing as dawn made itself known.

He swore quietly. He did not mean to fall asleep at the island. If he hurried, he figured he could probably still catch Lin before she left for work.

He tried to sit up; only to be weighed down by a toned arm slumped over him. He rubbed off sleep from his eyes and saw his girlfriend lightly slumbering on his chest. The airbender wondered how did the earthbender end up sleeping in his childhood bedroom at Air Temple Island.

Tenzin recognized that it was not a peaceful sleep, however. There were days that she was tense and there were days that she was relaxed. Today, her unblemished sleeping expression was marred by a small frown.

Tenzin skated his fingers on her forearm. His movements jolted her awake.

“Wha-?”

Without warning, the earthbender shot her arm up - hitting the master airbender on the nose.

"Ow!"

Lin bolted upright. "Tenzin - what- oh!" She turned to her side, seeing her lover of more than a decade clutching his nose and rubbing it. "I am so sorry," Lin reached out to touch his face. "I didn't mean to!"

Certain that there was nothing broken and that there was no blood, Tenzin took Lin's hand and held it to his cheek. Time and time again, he forgot that he should never try to startle this law enforcer in her sleep.

"Ten," The uncharacteristically soft voice of the chief of police whispered. "I'm sorry for missing dinner last night. I'm sorry -I just…" Lin trailed off. "I forgot."

Lin was not one to make excuses.  Tenzin loved that about her - she was authentic and honest to a fault. As he looked at her contrite expression, all his annoyances from the previous night faded.

In the light of dawn and in bed, it did not seem so bad.

“It's fine.” He replied, meaning it the first time in the past twenty-four hours, kissing her forehead softly.

----------

After spending a few more quiet moments in each other’s arms, Lin broke the silence. “Were you going to meditate?”

“No, actually, I uh, I planned to get home before you left for the station.” Tenzin rubbed the back of his neck. Then everything came tumbling out. “Honestly, I was really…” He searched for a word to describe his emotions. Annoyed. “Irritated.” He tested it. “At first, at least. Then worried – you didn't even think to let me know you'd be late.”

She motioned to speak but he continued. “I know. I know you said someone from the station would likely get in touch with me if ever – in the event of -.” He did not want to say “an accident” or “death” out loud, being a tad superstitious that way. “And you're Lin Beifong, Chief of the Republic City Metalbending Police. You’re practically indestructible, I know.” He held her tighter. “But to me, you’re Lin Beifong, the woman I love. Take care of yourself.”

“I shouldn’t have worried you, I should have called earlier.” Lin averted her eyes and burrowed in his embrace. She sensed something else was bothering Tenzin. “How was your day yesterday?” She ventured, peeking at his face from her position.

Tenzin shifted uncomfortably then sighed. “The air acolytes do not take me seriously. They were laughing quietly most of the session. They were never like that when dad conducted the session.” He huffed. “They probably don’t think I’m an airbending master.”

“It's just the first session.” Lin had another guess why they were laughing but did not speak up about it just yet. “I’m sure they weren’t laughing at you.”

“Why of course they were – they’d look at me then laugh amongst themselves.” Tenzin looked distraught.

“I don’t think so…”

Lin has seen how some of the younger Air Acolytes looked at the youngest airbender.

At the age of thirty-one, he did strike an intimidating yet appealing figure. While lean, his muscular limbs (and hidden well-formed abs, Lin thought smugly) belied a strength that he had acquired on his rigorous training sessions. Not to mention the upbringing of Katara and Aang turned him into quite an intelligent gentleman.

And obviously, Lin supposed, the prospect being the wife of the son of the Avatar does not hurt his chances with the ladies much either.

Wife? Not pausing to think about where that thought came from, she sought to assure him. “You’re doing great, I’m sure of that, Tenzin. Don’t worry so much – they, the Air Acolytes adore you.” She patted his cheek.

Tenzin rolled his eyes, his good mood restored. “You don’t have to be so sarcastic about it. It’s too early.”

Lin made a non-committal noise as she pushed to put her feet on the floor beside the bed.

“I just said it’s too early,” Tenzin reached over to stop her from standing up. “You’re getting up? You really enjoy contradicting me, don’t you?”

Lin laughed. “Well, I do – but yes, I need to go. I just wanted to make sure I got to you before we started today.”

“Let’s eat before you go – I’m sure Mother had some leftovers set aside from last night.” Seeing the woman’s unmoved expression, he changed his suggestion. “Or at least let me make you tea?”

“Tea would be fine.” Lin conceded as she went to change her clothes.

Tenzin got to the kitchen quicker as he did not need a change in clothes, having fallen asleep in his robes.

Lin followed soon afterwards, barefoot but in her daily uniform, carrying an overnight bag.

“You’re going straight to the station?” Tenzin got some cups out as the tea continued to steep.

“Yes, it’s going to be a long day.” Lin did not look forward to these meetings and public speaking engagements. There was a reason why she did not choose to be a diplomat or a councilwoman. She was a woman of action, like her mother.

She rummaged through the bag, checking that she had everything in place.

“How are you getting back to Republic City?” He poured her a cup tea. “I don’t suppose the ferries are operating now.” He leaned back, tugging at his beard while watching her sip her tea. “Or late last night either. How did you get to Air Temple Island anyway?”

She gave him a crooked smile. “I phoned in a favor.”

“What – how – how?” Tenzin stammered, staring at her. “This isn’t illegal, is it?”

“Of course not, it’s me you’re talking to.” Lin scoffed, finishing her drink. “I once helped a dockmaster catch a couple of smugglers in a case I worked on as a detective a few years ago.” She pulled her metal boots from the doorway. “He said I could borrow a boat or a ship anytime I’ll need it.”

“Good morning, children.” Katara entered the room quietly. Only Katara could get away calling the Gaang’s offspring as children, even if most of them are past their thirties.

“Hello, mother.” Tenzin poured her a cup of tea too.

“Lin,” Katara greeted the woman in the Republic City police uniform. “You’re here.”

Lin leaned over to give her adoptive aunt a hug. “Yes, but I’ll need to head on now.” She saw Katara gesture towards the dining table, indicating breakfast.  “Thanks, Aunt, but I’ll need to prep for today.”

The waterbender gave a light laugh seeing Lin make a face, recalling that Toph did not like those kinds of meetings as well. “Well, all right. We’ll see you later?”

Lin gave a non-committal sound as she got up to leave.

“Good luck, sweetie.”

Tenzin moved to give her a quick kiss before she hurried off, the ground reaching to meet her as she bent her way to the docks where her borrowed boat waited.

----------

Tenzin waited inconspicuously at the City Hall lobby. Well, at least as inconspicuous as an airbending master (one of two in the entire world) could be. He fidgeted from the stone bench he was sitting on. He figured he better wait until the council meeting was over. He wanted to take Lin out for an early lunch. If the meeting was good, they can celebrate. If it was particularly challenging (or infuriating, Lin might say), he can help her let off some steam.

He was lost in this reverie when the doors flung open.

There was a lot of commotion as the press started taking photos. Security was able to halt any further movement of the press into the council hall.

The Chief of Police rapidly exited the room, looking ahead and exiting the building; her three metalbenders struggled to catch up. The press followed, her stoic expression not discouraging them from plying her with questions.  

It all happened so fast that Tenzin did not even get to call out to get her attention.

His father and uncle came out of the hall soon afterwards, albeit in a slower pace.

“Son!” Aang noticed him looking at the entryway of city hall. “You’ve come to join us?”

“Uh – Lin – I,” Tenzin’s eyes darted from where Lin just passed to his father, standing in askance at him.

“Let’s go, Tenten.” Sokka slapped his back, never mind that the airbender was a couple of inches taller. “If we’re lucky, we’ll find a good spot.”

“Good spot?”

“Yes, we preferred not to go the VIP route. Lin would have hated that.” Aang started to walk out of city hall, pleasantly surprised that all attention went with the young Beifong woman than the avatar.

“Well, she would have given it to us still if we asked for it.” Sokka considered, holding up his hand, trying to look against the sunlight as though searching for someone.

“Always hated attention,” The airbender stood patiently, waiting. “Very un-Beifong of her, I should think.”

“Who is very un-Beifong?” A voice rang from behind them, coming from one of the pillars.

“Toph!” Sokka rushed to give her a hug, which the blind earthbender deflected with a punch to his forearm.

“Hey, Snoozles.” She stepped aside as the Water Tribe chief greeted his wife who had picked her up from the pier. “Thanks for sending these two old ladies to fetch me – no need to do so though.” Toph Beifong sniggered, as she felt Katara and Suki roll their eyes as the Beifong heiress was only a few years younger than them.

“Good to see you, Sifu.” Aang tilted his head in acknowledgment to his earthbending teacher, who positioned her foot subtly then smiled somewhat sadly in return.

Tenzin tensed as he felt the milky green eyes turn to him. “Chief Beifong –.”

“That’s Toph Beifong to you, Junior,” Toph snarked, but accepted his bow. “I don’t see Lin around, you know.”

“Hi Sweetie,” Katara gave Aang quick kiss on the cheek. “Tenzin, there you are. I was looking for you earlier.”

Tenzin was bewildered at the gathering of their family at the steps of Republic City Hall. “Why are you all here?”

Toph slapped Tenzin upside the head. “I know I’m not the perfect goody-goody mother like your mother here. But don’t you think I’d at least try to be there for my child?”

The younger airbender still looked in confused as the group paired off and proceeded to what Tenzin saw as the direction of the police department.

Tenzin and Toph soon outstripped Suki, Sokka, Katara and Aang as Sokka got sidetracked by a street food vendor.

“It’s more difficult for her, you know.” Toph spoke, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

“I’m sorry?”

“Lin is in a more difficult situation now than I was in the police force.”

The tattooed airbender threw his girlfriend’s mother a glance. “Well, I understand there is a difference being the current chief versus being the actual founder of the entire force…” He trailed off.

“That’s not all of it,” Toph leveled the pavement in ahead of them, removing the uneven placement of bricks which were a result of shoddy workmanship. “I know she truly climbed up the ranks on her own. She deserves this position based on her own merit.” She felt Tenzin nod beside her. “It was different when I first resigned – she was a just a detective then. Captain Lee became my successor; he stayed there for seven years or so. I remained as consultant to the force during that same period. And, you know how Lin was mentored as his eventual successor.”

Tenzin was not sure where this discussion was going. He also was not sure why they were all trudging towards the police headquarters.

“Lin is truly on her own now.” Toph paused as they neared their destination. “I wouldn’t be around – I haven’t been around for some time now. It’s all up to her now to keep everyone in line and help make Republic City safer.”

Having reached the Republic City Police headquarters, Tenzin saw that an assembly was about to begin. The press was already positioned at the forecourt and a crowd of citizens have likewise gathered. The police force was also stationed in the area, with the Republic City Police and the Metalbending Police sectioned separately.

He squinted and easily found the Chief of Police at the head of the stairs, beside a podium which was set up for the occasion. She seemed to be barking out instructions to her subordinates.

Tenzin was surprised to notice that while there were other women police in the force, there were none in the elite Metalbending division. No one, at least, except for their leader.    

“But you’re a girl too.” Tenzin blurted out without thinking.

Toph raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “Why, thank you for noticing. I figured you must have realized that at some point, given that I gave birth to two kids.” She slapped her foot down, sensing the perimeter to see if there are possible threats to the gathering in front of the police department.

“I mean, you and Lin,” Tenzin turned red, stammering. His brother would laugh at him if he were there. Despite being an eloquent speaker, Tenzin easily gets flustered among family and friends. “Lin is a woman too.”

Satisfied with her perimeter check, Toph turned to the airhead beside her. “I’m sure you’d know that pretty well, eh?” She gave a laugh, enjoying the racing heartrate and heat of embarrassment radiating from the man. “I’m also sure you’ve done due to diligence to confirm that she’s a woman?” She took pity at him. “Well, yes, there would probably be similar experiences between my daughter and myself, but she’s her own person. While she would need reminding sometimes, this is very apparent to the police force.” She flicked a hand to indicate the group of uniformed officers. “It’s challenging enough to get into the academy and get a good position in the force. Just think of all the male egos thinking she got a free ride not knowing she probably had to deal with worse as she was raised by me?”

“It would be hard to make sure they get in line,” Tenzin started to understand.

“Yes,” Toph nodded in appreciation. “Mind you, all the old ones – no problem with that. They all trained with me and Lin. They’ve been around longer.” She shook her head in emphasis. “No, I’m not worried about old-timers – they respect her.”

“The rest are probably terrified of Lin,” Tenzin ventured, recalling work stories about the newer officers that Lin shared as they ate dinner at home.

“Don’t be simplistic – I never felt any of the officers look at me the way they do at Lin.” Lin’s mother responded irritably, not being able to get through the man and so deciding to be as blunt as possible now. “They’re all too terrified of me for them to make a move on her. Times change, junior, and I’m no longer around Republic City as much. The mere threat of my presence used to be enough to deter them, but now,” Toph’s tone hardened, facing the general direction of the police force. “Not even her distant manner and aloof comportment can dampen her appeal.” At the airbender’s sharp intake of breath, Toph knew he finally understood what she was telling him. “I’m not threatening you – far from it. I don’t think Lin would do anything about it if she knew; she’s too attached to you for some reason.” Toph rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I just thought you should know - keep you on your toes, remind you to appreciate my girl. Otherwise, you might have never known; I think you’re a dense airhead like your father.”  Just behind them, she could vaguely hear Suki wheedling some jerky from Sokka to subtly remind him of his healer’s recommendation to lay off salty food. “Or your mother for that matter.” Bending a brick in Sokka’s path so he tripped, tossing the paper bag of jerky in the air. “Definitely from your mother’s side.” The blind woman grinned, opening her palm to catch the paper bag as it fell.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

As his uncle struggled to take the bag from the master metalbender, who cackled as she started to eat the jerky, Tenzin could only watch Lin Beifong from afar, processing all that her mother imparted with him.

The current Chief of Police stood tall and poised amidst the frequent flashing of cameras, consulting a folder on the podium. She was getting ready to begin.

Lin was taller than the average woman from any of the Four Nations. Growing up, she did not feel comfortable about it. Already a bit more athletic than the average Republic City lady in the finishing school that the Beifongs went to, Lin felt her height was an impediment. Tenzin had always appreciated Lin’s height; he used to say that it was the perfect height for him to give her a hug. However, it certainly did not help that Bumi would occasionally tease her that she was possibly taller by a head compared to more than half the men in his regiment. That was until she learned to metalbend and once zipped open his fly while he was chatting up a group of women during one of their parents’ parties. Tenzin smirked in the recollection of Bumi apologizing to the women and to pleading with Toph not to arrest him for indecent exposure.

Watching the woman now, any insecurity seems to have been tamped out as Lin welcomed everyone confidently. Tenzin let her voice wash over him as she gave an introduction and an update regarding the earlier council meeting.

He did not see any reason to doubt the warning the former Chief of Police shared. Scanning over the crowd, he saw everyone listening attentively to her measured statements. He wondered how many of these people (and her people) were harboring romantic (or even less than wholesome and unsavory, he thought darkly) intentions towards his girlfriend.

His girlfriend. It clicked in his mind.

“But I’m her boyfriend. I’m an airbending master.” Tenzin whispered furiously at the oldest Beifong woman. “Shouldn’t I be enough of a deterrent to whatever they might be thinking of doing?”

The blind metalbender let out a snort. “You – not saying this to offend you, junior – are a pacifist. And these,” She nodded towards the sea of metal before them. “Are kick-ass metalbenders off to defend the entire United Republic in any way they can. Do you think they’ll be impressed just because you’re the only Airbender of your generation?” She crossed her arms. “Didn’t think so. Wait a minute – junior, do you even know what we’re doing here?”

“What? Of course, I do.” Tenzin aimed for a blank expression and a steady heartbeat, seeing that Toph had angled herself to face him. He barely caught the tail-end of Lin’s introduction speech.

“And so that is the overview of the achievements of the Republic City Police during the first ninety days of my official term as Chief of Police.” Lin’s voice echoed in the forecourt. “We will now proceed with the details regarding each of these items and how they relate towards the City Council’s performance pillars.”

Tenzin’s eyes widened. He had been too preoccupied with his own concerns that he had failed to check-in on Lin. Today was a milestone day in Lin Beifong’s career as the Chief of the Metalbending and Republic City Police department.

“You forgot – didn’t you?”

The airbender felt the ground gave way below him and then suddenly rise up to launch him to the sky.

“You, airhead! You’re more clueless than Twinkletoes!”

He was vaguely aware of his father trying to calm down Toph and hundreds of people turned to see what the commotion was about. But first, he needed to land.

Using his airbending, Tenzin descended beside the column of earth that Toph had seen fit to eject him from.

He raised a hand and gave a small smile at Lin’s stunned face as she was forced to pause her speech due to the disturbance. The tightening of her lips did not bode too well for him at this point.

Toph stopped arguing with Aang long enough to realize that the forecourt was silent except for them. “What?” She sensed her daughter’s mortification from yards away. “Proud of you, Chief!” She made a fist bump. No one moved a muscle as Lin waved one hand to the side and crossed her other arm to her chest. “Well, fine, let me drag myself and Master Tenzin here to the precinct for disorderly conduct or something.” She bent the ground to attach to Tenzin’s legs and literally dragged him sputtering in indignation, to the side entrance. “Carry on, carry on. See you later!”

Bumi sniggered from beside his mother. “Who would’ve thought it would be Mr Well-Behaved who would be called for a time out today?” He quickly put on his innocent face when Katara glared at him.

Aang smiled brightly at everyone else looking at their corner, waving them to turn their attention to the podium and for Lin to proceed with her speech.

Lin was right: it was going to be a long day and it was not noon yet.

----------

Notes: Thanks lone reader :) Let me know what you think!

 ==

Other chapters here:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

[carmenxjulia]

You Never Did Get My Name Ch9

Title: You Never Did Get My Name, Chapter 9

Description: The morning goes more and more awry.

[Read on AO3]

The light creak of hinges followed by the clicking of a closing door roused Carmen from her sleep. She slowly opened her eyes, expecting to see Julia's form next to her own, but the spot on the bed she had occupied the night before was empty.

Instantly she was awake, throwing back the covers. The next second, she had bolted out of the bedroom into the hallway, heart pounding as she prepared to pursue an adversary. Her mind was going a mile a minute, but the most prevalent thought was V.I.L.E. got her. They had been able to find and track Chase Devineaux; no doubt they traced his connection to Julia Argent as well. Or perhaps Carmen herself had been too bold in making an appearance at her abode. V.I.L.E. could have spies anywhere, and she realized too late just how careless she'd been in coming here, even in plainclothes.

She rounded the corner, expecting the apartment to be empty, and came almost face to face with Julia as she was turning away from locking the front door. Almost, because there was still space between them; unfortunately, it was not enough for Carmen to stop in time. She tripped over herself in an effort to slow her momentum, her palms slamming into the door on either side of Julia's head, which prevented her from crashing full-force into the other woman.

Julia yelped, flinching as she braced for impact, clutching the bag in her arms. She certainly had not been expecting her guest to come barreling towards her as soon as she entered her home. Several moments of tense silence passed before she dared open her eyes.

The red-head stared at her, breathing slightly labored, arms stinging from the impact. Adrenaline coursed through the scarlet outlaw, as she struggled to process the fact that Julia was here, and safe, and not in the clutches of V.I.L.E. Every action, every plan her mind had thought up in the span of a few seconds, crumbled away as reality set in.

"Good morning?" Julia ventured.

Carmen shook her head, feeling like she was coming out of a daze. She pushed off from the door, stepping back and momentarily stumbling over her own feet. She cleared her throat, "Good morning," tangling her hands together behind her back as she rocked on her heels.

"Did you have another nightmare?"

"No I- I'm just glad you're safe."

"Okay," Julia gave her one last concerned glance before making her way into the kitchen. She set down the bundle in her arms, before addressing Carmen again. "There are towels in the hall closet if you need, and you can feel to use anything in the bathroom to freshen up. I'm going to get started on breakfast."

Carmen turned on her heels without a word, grateful for a reason to excuse herself from this awkward situation. She'd only taken a step when Julia's voice caused her to pause.

"Oh, and-" she held out something long and plastic looking, which Carmen took with hardly a thought, quickly discovering that it was a packaged toothbrush, "-since I was out I thought you might need this."

Carmen smiled, mumbling a "thank you", before scampering off to get ready.

It dawned her, once a towel had been acquired and she'd stepped into the shower, that Julia had been thinking of her while she was out. A toothbrush was such a small gesture, hardly worth dwelling on, and yet, Carmen found herself doing exactly that.

The significance of gifts was usually lost on Carmen. She understood, to some extent, others want for material items or objects of affection. The only thing she'd ever really owned, besides some dresses as a child and her uniform when she was older, was her set of matryoshka dolls. Even then, she'd left them behind when she'd fled the isle, so her attachment to them was debatable. At the end of the day, presents weren't really her thing - giving or receiving.

But a basic necessity wasn't a present, per se. Not in the typical sense, anyway. It wasn't exactly unique or overly personal. Today wasn't any kind of special holiday that would involve the giving of gifts. On the other hand, did the fact that it was unexpected designate it as such? She couldn't be sure. Did it really matter?

Any time she needed something, Player was there to assist. Helping her find a place to call "home" while she settled into life in the real world outside of V.I.L.E.. Bridging the communication gap between herself and Ivy and Zack. Providing her with necessary clothing, tools, identification, and other basic essentials. She'd relied on him, from the moment she left V.I.L.E. Isle, even until today.

His persistent worrying was comforting, in its own way. It was nice to have someone looking out for her, here on the outside. Someone to talk to when she was lonely. He'd known her before she'd met the twins, and before all of this Julia business.

Julia…

She briefly reflected on the night before, but what was really on her mind was how her host had somehow managed to slip away this morning. She was normally overly alert, prone to startling awake at the slightest noise outside her room. And yet, lying in Julia's bed, she slept more soundly than she ever thought was possible, for her. She'd felt safe and calm, here in the heart of Poitiers, wrapped in the agent's arms. So relaxed and cozy that not even Julia's subtle movements as she left the bed could wake her. How surprising, she mused, pushing the curious event out of her mind for now.

Clean, dry, and with hair and teeth brushed, Carmen reached for her earpiece. It was about time she checked in with her youngest comrade.

"How's it going, Player?"

"Well, well. It's about time, Red."

"Good morning to you too."

"I suppose 3am counts as morning even if I haven't gone to bed yet."

"Your sleep habits still haven't changed, I see."

"Haven't had a consistent sleep schedule since I met you, Red. Gotta keep up with all those foreign timezones."

"As if it was any better before you met me, White Hat," Carmen chuckled.

"So, how was your evening? Anything interesting happen?" he quipped.

"Nothing of note. We had dinner and then talked for awhile after."

"And?"

"And nothing Player."

"Nothing except being in her house all night."

"It's an apartment."

"Ah, so it is true. You know Red, just because your communicator is off doesn't mean I don't have a bead on your location at all times."

Carmen knew that. She'd always known it. It might have slipped her mind in the midst of everything, but it wasn't like him being constantly aware of her local was anything knew. And Player was absolutely right; constantly having a feed of her every movement helped ensure her safety. Still, it wasn't something she'd considered when she'd thought about making a friend outside of "work" or having actual personal time. But in this case, it didn't really matter.

"It's not like that," she wasn't even exactly sure what Player was implying, but, whatever it was wasn't the reality. She was telling the truth about "nothing of note" having happened.

"Whatever you say, Red. Don't get into this too deep. You're really flirting with the enemy here."

"Player," she hissed. "We did not- we are not- It was just dinner!"

"So where are you now?"

Carmen stared at herself in the mirror, her silence speaking volumes. So they'd had dinner, so what? So she'd slept over, so what? So Julia was a part of A.C.M.E. and technically her adversary, so what? None of it mattered, in the long run. After today, they'd probably go their separate ways. Maybe never speak again. Her stoic expression faltered. They had just begun to get to know each other and their budding relationship was already about to be over. The past couple of weeks, Carmen had been ignoring that reality, but now, it was too close not to face.

"In her bathroom," she gathered herself, "Getting ready to have breakfast."

"After having a sleepover."

"Okay, there is nothing going on between us!"

"Does she know that?"

Silence, again. Because that was a factor Carmen hadn't considered. She'd been so absorbed in her feelings about the entire thing that she hadn't stopped to think about what Julia might be thinking. Where Julia thought this was heading. Carmen knew where they stood. She knew where they had to stand, and continue standing. Due to their opposing professions, there was a clear line of familiarity that they could not cross. At least, Carmen hoped Julia was cognizant of that as well.

But was this invitation to dinner, this staying over and breakfast and everything, all some kind of "move?" Actions Julia had initiated that indicated her desire for something beyond friendship? Suddenly, Carmen found herself doubting their silent understanding of just how far into intimacy this relationship could tread.

"She cooked," was all Carmen could come up with to keep Player from waiting any longer.

He whistled. "Sounds a little romantic."

"Come on, Player. You know I don't have time for that sort of thing. We're just friends." At least, she hoped that's all they were.

"So you don't want me to tell Zack and Ivy about your date?"

"Best to keep this low key for now," she decided not to correct the word he'd used to describe her and Julia's meeting.

"Sure thing, Carmen. But if this becomes a regular occurrence, you'll have to tell them eventually."

"Don't worry. It won't be," she felt something clench in her stomach at the assurance, but fought it back. It wouldn't be. It couldn't be. "I've got to go."

"Keep me posted, Red. I still worry about you."

"I know, Player. Thanks."

Support this and other stories! https://ko-fi.com/pizzahorse

[gladdygirl18]

Remember When We Were Little...

Based off the game {Shall We Date? Wizardess Heart+}

Summary: It's a day off at the academy and the Goldstein Brothers were reminiscing about all the fun times they had together when the were kids. Let's just say this conversation led to many good laughs.

Word Count: 1993

Elias, Klaus, and Alfonse. The three sons of the famous House of Goldstein. Brothers by blood. Elias and Alfonse are Day Class Prefects at the academy whereas Klaus is a Ministry employee. On occasions, Klaus will pop up to visit the academy out of his own free will or for business. Either way, for Elias and Alfonse, it is always a treat to see him. Klaus and Alfonse have a history together and didn’t get along all that well. After recent events, the two of them, mainly Klaus, learned to tolerate one another.

It was a day off at the academy and Klaus was visiting the academy out of his own free will. Going to the Prefect’s office, he saw his younger and older brother relaxing on the sofa and chair.

“Klaus? I didn’t know you were coming.” Elias said.

“That’s Klaus for you. Always full of surprises.” Alfonse said with a kind smile.

Klaus rolled his eyes and sat down in the chair parallel to Elias. The three of them sat in silence, enjoying each other’s company. The other Prefects, mainly Zeus, were enjoying themselves at the Night Cafe, so it was really quiet in the office. The brothers sat silence for what felt like an hour. Soon, Alfonse’s voice shattered the silence.

“Klaus, remember when we were little, we use to get into so much mischief.” Alfonse said.

“How can I forget? You were always the one who got us into trouble, and I had to get us out of it.” Klaus said.

“Really? I can’t imagine Alfonse getting you into trouble. Sigurd and Albert, yes, but never Alfonse.” Elias said, sitting up.

Klaus let of a scoff and leaned in on his legs.

“You have no idea. Once, he tried to swap one of Father’s inventions for one of his trick ones.” Klaus said.

“And I would’ve gotten away with it if you hadn’t stopped me.” Alfonse said.

Elias smiled and let a giggle escape his lips.

“It’s not funny. You know how Father gets when he’s mad.” Klaus said.

“I know. I’m laughing because I wish I could’ve seen Father’s face if the swap prank did happen.” Elias said.

Klaus placed a hand on his temple and breathed out.

“You are so much like Alfonse...” Klaus sighed.

Elias shrugged with a smile.

“What’d you expect? I’m your brother, after all.” Elias said.

Alfonse sat in silence for a while before a mischievous smile spread across his face.

“That reminds me... Klaus, do remember when Elias was about seven, we used a special trick to make him smile even though he was already smiling?” Alfonse asked.

Elias’s eyes widened and Klaus’s grin grew into a sly smile.

“As a matter of fact, I do. Why bring it up all of a sudden?” Klaus asked.

“No reason. I guess you can say I miss my little brother’s laugh.” Alfonse said, eyeing Elias.

Elias stared at his brothers with fear clear as crystal in his eyes. Alfonse quickly muttered a spell to make the room soundproof.

“So do I.” Klaus said.

A surprised and scared smile spread across the young Goldstein’s face.

“What has gotten into you two?” Elias asked as his two older brothers inched closer.

“Whatever do you mean, Elias? We’re just having fun. Aren’t you?” Klaus asked.

Never in a million years would Elias ever hear his stoic and strict brother say he was having fun. And he knew his brother better than anyone. If Klaus were feeling something, he would rarely show it or admit to it. This was a new one on him. Alfonse was no exception. He’s always in a good mood and shows it. He’s rarely ever seen sulking or moping.

“Come on guys, you don’t have to do this.” Elias said.

“This is long overdue, Elias. Of course, we have to do this.” Alfonse said.

Elias took a gamble and made a break for the door. Now, Elias is a smart young man. He’s a Prefect for crying out loud. But thinking he could outrun Klaus was on him. Klaus easily caught him before he could even reach the door. Klaus couldn’t help but smile at Elias’s struggling. It would take a miracle for Elias to escape Klaus’s strong and firm grip.

“Let go off me!” Elias cried.

“Yell all you want, Elias. With the soundproof spell up, no one will be coming to your rescue.” Alfonse said as he locked the office’s door.

Klaus placed his brother in his lap and forced his arms into a position where he couldn’t move them.

“Come on, let’s be reasonable here.” Elias said as Alfonse inched closer, still struggling in Klaus’s hold.

“We are. We get to tickle you senseless and you get to laugh. A win-win for the three of us.” Alfonse said.

Just hearing the dreaded T word made Elias cringe. When Alfonse’s fingers collided with Elias’s sides, pure, childish laughter spilled from the young Prefect’s mouth. Elias’s eyes were squeezed shut but his mouth was gaped open with melodic laughter coming out.

“Honestly, Elias, I thought you’d outgrow this by now.” Klaus said, pretending to sound disappointed.

“Shuhuhuhuhuhuhut up!” Elias laughed.

“Being rude, are we?” Alfonse asked, digging his fingers harder into Elias’s sides.

Elias threw his head back against Klaus’s shoulder and let out a new stream of laughter.

“Stohohohohohohohohop! Plehehehehehehease!” Elias cried, his voice full of desperation.

Elias has always been extremely ticklish. Just a simple poke in his ribs and he’s cracking up. His brothers always exploited his little “weakness” whenever he was sad, getting ahead of himself, or just to see him laugh. When Elias was young, he always wanted to get revenge on his brothers for torturing him, especially Klaus. Klaus is a ruthless and merciless tickler. Alfonse is the same, except for the merciless part. He never tries it because he knew the tables would have been turned on him in a split second.

“Klaus, you have access to our brother’s weak spot, you know.” Alfonse said.

“Thanks for reminding me. It almost slipped my mind.” Klaus whispered into Elias’s ear.

Elias scrunched his neck when he felt his brother’s breath brush against his neck and ears. Elias literally screamed with laughter when he felt Klaus scratch his fingers in his exposed armpits.

“KLAHAHAHAHAHAHAUS! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” Elias said as he thrashed in his brother’s grip.

“Sorry little brother. No can do.” Klaus said casually.

Alfonse chuckled and started raking his fingers up and down the youngest Goldstein’s ribcage.

“NOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHA! NOT BOTH AT THE SAME TIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIME!” Elias cried.

Klaus and Alfonse couldn’t help but laugh along with their brother. To any other person, the scene would look almost unnatural and somewhat uncomfortable, but to the Goldstein Brothers, this was normal. Alfonse’s hands soon found their way under Elias’s uniform and tickled the bare skin underneath. Elias’s laughter became more hysterical and his thrashing became more frantic.

“I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMOHOHOHOHOHOHORE! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” Elias begged.

The two older Goldsteins nodded to each other and removed their hands from the poor boy’s body. Klaus released Elias and placed a comforting hand on his back while Elias took in air for his lungs.

“Are you okay?” Alfonse asked, crouching in front of his brother.

“Yeah... I’m good...” Elias panted.

Alfonse smiled and sat down next to his younger brothers. The three of them sat in peaceful silence, still wearing bright smiles on their face. Elias soon looked at Klaus who had his head leaned back against the sofa; his eyes shut. Letting a smile form, he turned to Alfonse who had the same smile. They were thinking the exact same thing.

“Hey Klaus. Can I ask you something?” Elias asked.

“What?” Klaus asked.

“Are you ticklish?”

Klaus’s eyes snapped open. The question caught him off guard. Klaus then put on his mature face and shook his head.

“No, I’m not.” Klaus said casually after a while.

“Then why did you hesitate?” Alfonse inquired.

“I didn’t.” Klaus said.

Alfonse and Elias nodded to one another with similar smiles. After a split second, the two of them pounced on their brother. Klaus pursed his lips together to keep himself from laughing. Klaus was equally ticklish to Elias, but not as bad. When it was just him and Alfonse, Alfonse tickled him all the time. It was a weakness he would always exploit.

“Come on, Klaus. We know you can’t hold out for long.” Alfonse said.

What the older Goldstein said appeared sound. Giggles slipping through every now and them, not to mention the wide grin on the normally stoic brother’s face. When Elias reached his lower back, Klaus’s resistance was history.

“Stohohohohohohop! Elias stohohohohohohop!” Klaus laughed.

“Wow. The Klaus Goldstein, The Emperor of Gedonelune Royal Magic Academy, a Ministry of Wizardry employee, is ticklish.” Elias commented.

Klaus tried to glare at his younger sibling, but his laughter made it difficult.

“Hey Alfonse. Does Klaus have a weak spot?” Elias asked.

“Nohohoho I dohohohohohohon’t!” Klaus cried.

Alfonse rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“Yes, he does. He has two, as a matter of fact.” Alfonse said.

Proving his point, Alfonse kneaded Klaus’s thigh and massaged his hipbone. Klaus bucked at least a foot in the air before his laughter became louder and more hysterical.

“ALFOHOHOHOHOHOHOHONSE STAHAHAHAHAHAP!” Klaus cried.

Elias laughed at his older brother’s state, never seeing him like this since, well, ever. Elias joined in by massaging his thumbs in Klaus’s hip, making said man produce more hysterical laughter.

“Consider this as revenge for all the years you tortured me when I was younger.” Elias said.

Klaus couldn’t even form a word; he was laughing so much.

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Klaus laughed.

Elias enjoyed tickling Klaus to shreds but decided it was Alfonse’s turn. Removing his hands off Klaus, he pounced on Alfonse and started kneading his sides. Alfonse let out a giggly gasp before producing them.

“Elias! Yohohohohohou’re supposed to behehehehe on my teheheheheheheam!” Alfonse said.

“Sorry, but I need revenge on you as well for all those years you tickled me half to death.” Elias said.

After catching his breath, Klaus joined his younger brother in tickling their older brother.

“Klahahahahahaus! Not you tohohohohohhohohoo!” Alfonse whined.

“I’m with Elias. I need some revenge for all the times you exploited my weakness,” Klaus said.

“Sohohohohohoho yohohohohohou admit youhohohohou have a weheheheheheaknehehehehehess!”

“What was that?”

Klaus then dug his fingers into his brother’s stomach, making Alfonse’s giggles turn into laughs.

“NOHOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE! NOHOHOHOHO!” Alfonse cried, his laughter reaching a new volume and octave.

Klaus and Elias laughed at their older brother’s state. Alfonse was in between Elias and Klaus when it comes to being ticklish. He was worse than Klaus but not as bad as Elias. Elias was by far the most ticklish out of the three of them. Must be because he was the youngest brother. Eyeing Klaus, Elias attacked his brother’s hips, making him let out a stream of deep laughter.

“ELIAS DOHOHOHOHOHOHON’T!” Klaus cried.

“This is exactly what you deserve.” Elias said.

Elias soon started producing laughter of his own when Alfonse started attacking his ribs.

“NOHOHOHOHO! THAHAHAHAHAHAHAT’S NOT FAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAIR!” Elias said.

“Yes, it is.” Alfonse said, catching his breath.

His break was short lived when Klaus started tickling his sides, another weak spot of his.

“KLAUS STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!” Alfonse pleaded.

The three of them went back and forth with one another. Their childish laughter bounced off the soundproof walls. After what felt like hours, the three of them sat in silence once more. The only thing that could be heard was heavy breathing and slight giggling.

“Well, at least we can say this day off wasn’t a total waste.” Elias said.

“You can say that again.” Klaus said.

“I agree.” Alfonse said.

Elias smiled and wrapped his arms around his older brothers.

“Love you guys...” Elias said.

The two older Goldsteins smiled and hugged their little brother back. The three of them soon fell asleep in each other’s arms, still wearing gentle smiles.

Hope you enjoyed! Stay Safe, Stay Blessed!

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Snipets of a Red Ranger and Blue Ranger- Klance Week Day 4

I’m a simple girl, I see ‘Rangers’ I think Power Rangers and I am not sorry. And yes, it’s Samurai Rangers, I liked the season, sue me. @klanceweek​ Rangers, Cow, Lawless

Lance was restringing his bow, trying to tighten it without it snapping, which it had already done twice. Usually he wasn’t so distracted but he had a good excuse. What else was he supposed to do when he found out one of the biggest secrets the Red Samurais were hiding?

There was no easy was to explain his unique family line other than that they were the longest line of Power Rangers that existed. The appearance of some other Rangers, who hoped from the future to the past, had unintentionally unleashed another dimension filled with monsters known as Galra. Their world, the Netherworld, sat on the bank of the Sanzu River, water capable of destroying everything. A lord and his band of samurai went against these creatures and through their perseverance and using written talismans, they accessed the Morphing Grid, giving them the look and protection of the Ranger uniform and turning the talismans to Symbol Power. When the era of samurai ended, the lord made the samurai his retainers. And so, as time passed, the children would take their families place when it came time, defending their home. When the Red Ranger had first discovered a symbol to seal the Galra away, he was able to do so, allowing the group to split up and live not fighting for their lives.

They all eventually led back together back when his dad was his age. The seal had been cast again at the cost of the Red Ranger’s life, but it wasn’t strong enough. It became the next generations’ job to end this 19-generation long war. Lance didn’t think he’d be the one to be doing it. His main focus was to become one of the first biracial members of the Japanese Olympic archery team. He was close to, until every one of his siblings decided what they wanted mattered more and dumped the youngest with the responsibilities. His father tried to force him by stating that the Dragon Origami would only listen to Lance, but he that was a lie. Everyone else got off but because he was the last one, he had to obey orders. He put up a good fight, staying away from his family and proving himself to be Olympic material. But the seal officially broke the day of his biggest competition and even when he ignored the summons arrow, Lance was kidnapped by the Kuroko, the shadows who served the samurai families, and thrown into a car. He might not have wanted to be there, but he wasn’t an asshole who would walk away when people needed help. He did make his position very clear, his father had to get one of his siblings to take his place because he wouldn’t stay.

Once everyone heard his whole story, they were mostly understanding, including their leader Keith. Hearing him promise to talk to his dad almost seemed too good to be true but he’d heard him calling his dad. Then it made sense when Allura told him the big secret.

Keith, wasn’t born into the Red Ranger line, because the pervious Red and Pink ranger did the biggest no-no. they had a kid together. to make sure there was always a Ranger from each family line, they were instructed to not fall in love with one of their teammates. Keith was actually the kid of a Kuroko that somehow had caused the Lion Origami to react to him. Allura was technically the Red Ranger who could cast the Sealing Symbol. Her weekend shopping trips, were actually trips to a secret temple where ancestors of the same people who helped their lord discover the Sealing Symbol would teach it to her until it was perfect.

Keith was willing to help him, because technically he wasn’t supposed to be doing this either. He was just a stand in until the time was right. Lance still didn’t know what to do with this information. He was glad they trusted him with it, but it was only cause they all thought he’d be leaving.

“Lance?” Keith called from the other side of the door as he knocked. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Keith came in, closing the door behind him. He dropped down on Lance’s bed, looking at the mess of the low table that was covered in archery care stuff. “Guess I know why you disappeared after we got back from the baseball game.”

“It was a little league game and baseball makes no sense.” Lance threw out, feeling tense. He knew why Keith was here.

“So, Allura told me she talked to you when you guys were keeping an eye on the kid’s house.”

“Yeah, talked.”

Keith always looked so self-assured and confident, that to see him so unsure and nervous was weird.

“I hope your not upset that I’m doing this for Allura. My father was killed during a Galra attack and he was getting civilians out of harms way. Allura’s dad took me in, even when everyone said I wasn’t worth it. They kept pushing him to marry someone so he’d have a kid to carry on the Red line, but even knowing that it would be Allura, he still treated me like I was his kid. So, I don’t mind being a stand in for her. If it mostly keeps her safe, then I’ll do it.”

Lance let out a huff. “Wish my siblings cared that much. You’d give up everything to help her but everyone expects me to drop everything to make them happy. I won’t say anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I know. I get why you want to leave, but the Blue line is usually the second in command and in my opinion, someone who’d still help even when he wants a way out is a pretty worthy.”

Lance was honoured. How was he supposed to still act like a spoiled child when someone who didn’t even have to led a team and take the most hits did?

“Thanks for the compliment but,” he said instead, plucking at the string on his bow, “the Olympics are waiting for me.”

“Fair enough. And thank you for keeping this secret. We’ll tell them eventually.”

“They’ll understand.” Lance reassured. He was sure they would. It would be the 4 of them against everything. He just wished he’d be there to help if it went badly.

                                                    __________

Getting mind controlled was not fun. Just that morning things were going great. He and Keith had a sparing match and he was so close to actually beating Keith and Keith told him his dad would finally come to the Samurai House and talk. Then that annoying big talking mind controlling Galra made a mess of everything. All it took was a hit and he became a mindless drone who turned his sword against his friends. He was lucky Keith was able to snap him out of it with that burst of Symbol Power but his dad thought it was a glaring sign that he needed to stay with the team. So, he might have been thinking of maybe staying but he wanted it to be his choice, not forced by his dad. And now his head hurt more.

“Lance?”

“Come in.” he called, keeping his arm over his eyes.

He heard Keith turn the light off before he felt him tap at his arm to move it. He let out a grateful groan when he felt an ice pack drop on his face.

“I’m sorry things didn’t go well with your dad.” Keith said, the bed dipping as he sat down.

“You know, I’ve actually considered staying.” Keith stilled but stayed silent, letting Lance continue. “My whole life I’ve always been the scapegoat or had things taken just to satisfy the older ones. Much as I want to, I can’t be too mad at Marco and Veronica, they had good reasons. Everyone else, not so much. I just want one major decision in my life to be made by me.”

That sat in silence as Lance calmed down and hoped his head would stop hurting before Keith asked something.

“If you do decide to stay, would you consider being my second in command?”

Lance laid there, trying to decided if Keith was serious just from his voice alone. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s fine. Do you want me to go?”

And leave him stewing in thoughts he didn’t want to hear? Not a chance.

“Tell me about your dad.” It was the first thing that came to mind and for a moment he was gonna take it back when Keith started talking.

“He was probably one of the only Kuroko who couldn’t cook.”

                                                   ___________

In a turn of events, Lance knocked on Keith’s door. The fight against the half Galra Lotor was finally over and they were getting closer to defeating them. They’d see how much farther they could go once Shiro was able to unlock the Black Box, but for now, while Keith recovered, they could breath.

“Come in.” Lance opened the door, his eyes drawn to Keith’s exposed back as he struggled to pull his shirt off. It was getting harder and harder to not get a crush on Keith. He had to keep reminding himself that it was what got Allura’s parents into trouble in the first place. He was starting to see why they had the problem in the first place. How was he supposed to stop how he felt?

“Need help?” Lance offered.

“Sure, second-in-command.”

At dinner, he announced he’d stay with the team and publicly accepted Keith’s offer.

He was able to get Keith’s shirt off without aggravating his wounded arm too much. The view of his chest was distracting.

“I’m glad you decided to stay.” Keith said, pulling his eyes up. “It would have been hard to form the same bond with one of your siblings.”

“Yeah. I’m glad I did too. Finally feels like I can make my own decisions and not get looked down at.”

“You? Never?”

God, it was the compliments, it had to be. How else would he feel like a shy person when around Keith at times? They stood there, staring at each other when Lance couldn’t take it anymore. He kissed Keith. Keith didn’t push him away, if anything, he tried to pull him closer as he kissed back. Lance was careful as he rested his hands on Keith’s neck, not wanting to pull away when he did.

“We shouldn’t.”

“We really shouldn’t.” Keith said, using a finger to pull Lance back in and kiss him again.

This was so against the rules. Then…why did it feel so right?

                                               _______________

Lance was getting ready for bed when a quite knock came to his door. Keith slipped in when Lance opened the door. The hallway was already dark and Lance would bet that Coran would be by any minute to come check on them.

“Hi.” Keith said.

“Hey.”

The air was slightly tense. It wasn’t because of all those secret kisses and hard to keep promises about waiting until the war was over. It was what happened on that island. A small island an hour’s boat ride away that had cut off contact with the outside world because a Galra had burned a fear making talisman. The new addition to Zarkon’s crew, Sendak, had invited a Galra who believed in the blaster as opposed to the sword. It was like watching the era of samurai die, but thankfully Bandor, the same kid who led them to discover the hidden Bull Origami, had created a blaster to use with their swords. At the sight of Lotor still alive and standing had pushed Keith into overdrive. The fight had been bad and Keith got hurt. Words that Lotor said about Keith being just like him had gotten to him. Lance considered them lucky he was able to find them after Keith took off. Things were tense when the whole fight was over and they hadn’t talk anything out.

“Here.” Keith handed him a bag from LOFT. In it, was a lightweight scarf. Similar to the one Lance gave Keith as a makeshift sling and that he dropped when he went after Lotor. “I know it’s not the same colour but…”

It was red, close to the red Keith’s favourite jacket was. It was a claim and an apology.

“I shouldn’t have run off and I should have listened to you. You were right, I’m not like him, but the thing is…he’s kinda right.”

“What do you mean? Keith you can’t actually think that you care more about fighting than anything else.”

“It’s not that.” Keith started to look how he did when he first came to talk to Lance about the big secret involving him and Allura. “It’s more than just how we see fighting. It’s…down to our biology. He might have given his soul to become who he is, but…I was born like that.”

“What are you saying?”

“Lance…I’m half Galra. That’s why I kept taking Lotor’s words to heart. I didn’t want to be like him, lusting for battle.”

Half Galra? Like Lotor?

“But Coran said the House is warded against Galra. How are you not hurting right now?”

“It’s for full blooded Galra. That’s another reason most of the people who were here during your dad’s time didn’t like me. My dad was ‘spellbound’ by a female Galra. Somehow, they had be and she gave me to my dad to keep me safe.” He put spellbound in air quotes. “My dad wasn’t spellbound. My mom didn’t follow under Zarkon’s control and was actively looking for a way to be human. I don’t know what happened to her, just that I wanted to be the same kind Galra she had to be for my dad to fall in love with her. But Lotor’s words-”

“were wrong.” He should so be paying attention to what Keith said. He was half Galra, like Lotor, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. The guy in front of him was Keith, his leader and the guy he liked. He fought like hell for his team and he deserved nothing less than his support. “The only thing you share in common with that guy is being half Galra. But you’re living proof that you don’t live in obsession.”

“Well, I do have one obsession.”

Lance looked confused when he realised what Keith was talking about and went red. “Oh, you mean me. Well, can’t blame your good taste. Just know that Lotor is wrong about you. When you tell the others, they’ll see that.”

Keith gave Lance a thankful smile before leaning up to kiss him.

“I thought we said no more until after the war?” Lance said, though he just wanted to pull Keith back for more.

“How am I supposed to wait when I have the best thing here? It’s starting to become hard to not kiss you all the time.”

“Good, I’m not the only one.” Lance said, capturing Keith’s lips again.

After the war, after he told his secrets, whatever. Lance knew what his next big life decision was. To stand next to Keith for as long as he could.

[el-gilliath]

First Time Ever I Saw Your Face (aka The first meeting of Cowboy and Alex Manes, reporter.)

As always this is dedicated to @lsobelevans, because this series is her fault and also because she never tells me to shut up when I keep sending her tidbits of it ❤️

Alex isn’t typically a stupid man. He stays away from danger, tries to stay away from his father when he’s drunk, and doesn’t immerse himself in the business of others unless he’s asked to. Which is why he has no idea why he’s hiding behind a corner, spying on someone trying to rob a bank. Succeeding in robbing a bank, really, considering they seem to be getting a load of cash.

The police isn’t even here yet, but he is, having walked by on his way home from work and though he knows he should call the cops... Something is telling him to wait. He doesn’t know what, but there’s a feeling he can’t shake. Maybe he doesn’t want to, either.

He knows why, a minute later, when the city’s newest vigilante shows up; The Cowboy. Stupid name. Not so stupid outfit.

He’s obviously a Super, with the way his hands move and things move along with it. The guns rip out of the perpetrator’s hands, the grin on The Cowboy’s face enough to make the blood rise in Alex. He’s stupidly hot, too hot even with the mask and the cowboy hat that doesn’t show much of his face. Just the grin is visible, that horribly attractive grin.

Alex might be the son of Jesse Manes, Chief officer of the NYPD, and should be above vigilante’s according to his father. But somehow, he doubts he’ll be able to keep away from The Cowboy. Something about him is just too fascinating.

It might be the curls, just barely visible under the edges of the cowboy hat, it might also be said grin. It might also be the way his eyes shine in pride when he successfully disarms the robbers, the way his arms hold them steady as he wraps ropes around them to secure them.

It might be the way Cowboy turns to him and winks as he leaps away when the sirens come closer and closer.

It’s the first time Alex had seen him up close, but he doubts it will be the last.

And he’s not wrong, a week later Cowboy shows up at another robbery where Alex is at. But this time he’s actually in the bank. Thankfully no one has identified him as the son of Jesse Manes yet, though one of the robbers keep stealing glances at him with a furrowed brow. If he actually knows who Alex is and he tells the rest of them, things might become dicey.

“Hey! I know who you are!”

Shit.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“The fuck are you on about, dude?” One of the robbers asks the guy currently pointing at Alex. The pointers face turns gleeful.

“That’s the youngest son of Chief Police Captain Jesse Manes. The reporter, Alex or whatever the fuck his name is.”

Aww hell, they even know he’s a reporter.

“Well, well, well,” the lone female says as she swaggers over to Alex. She’s obviously the boss of them. “What ever should we do with you? Perhaps we should string you up for daddy to find?”

Alex can’t help but snort. “Trust me, he wouldn’t care if you did.”

“Oh? The baby boy of the Manes family, the black sheep that turned reporter instead of cop. Does he hate you that much, Mr. Manes?”

Alex just looks at her. She’s apparently done her research; he doesn’t need to tell her what she seems to already know.

“He might not like you much, Mr. Manes. But he does like his reputation. And his youngest son dying in a bank heist he couldn’t stop?” She laughs. “Oh he will hate that.”

“True,” Alex replies. The game is up so he might as well play along. “But he’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth for anything he perceives as a slight to his reputation.”

“Well then.” She grins widely as she points her gun at him. “I look forward to that.”

In truth, a small part of Alex does too. Even if he won’t be alive to see it.

“God speed,” he tells her and means it. She tilts her head and nods at him in a gesture of gratitude. Alex closes his eyes. Breathes in as he hears the cocking of the gun. Breathes out as she probably squeezes the trigger.

BANG

He’s surprised when he doesn’t feel the pain of a bullet. He’s even more surprised when he opens his eyes and sees a bullet hovering in front of his face.

“Now I don’t know about you, but shooting civilians, especially that one, ain’t exactly smart.”

“Cowboy. Should’ve known you would be here to ruin our fun. Though I am surprised, you’re no fan of Manes yourself,” the woman says, lowering her gun as she turns away from Alex. He really wants to look, but he feels like keeping an eye on the bullet is smarter.

“I’m not. Doesn’t mean shooting his kid is any kind of right.”

“Don’t know what you mean, I like the idea. It has… character.”

The bullet drops to the floor and Alex chances a look at his savior. He has to struggle with himself to just breathe normally. By god Cowboy is hot.

Cowboy glances over at Alex just as Alex is looking at him. Of course their eyes meet. Of course Cowboy winks at him. Of course Alex has to struggle with himself so he won’t die from blushing. And of course Cowboy notices and grins. Alex hates him.

“I see. There’s another reason why you don’t want me to kill Mr. Manes. Interesting.”

Cowboy turns back to her. “What?”

The female smirks at him. “How many bullets do I have to fire before you’re too tired to stop them?”

As she lifts her gun, her crew lifts their machine guns. Alex has a single moment to think ‘Shit’ before they start firing. He watches as the bullets freeze before him. Clip after clip freezing, as the other people in the bank scream in fear.

But every bullet stops.

“Hmm,” the female says as she and her goons stop firing. “You’re better than I thought.”

“Thanks.” Cowboy sounds rough, almost like he’s tired.

“Tired?”

“Don’t you worry about me.” Cowboy smirks. “Oh, and just so you know, the cops are about to bust in.”

“Sure, they are. And how are they getting in here, with the doors all locked down?” She asks. Before her eyes widen and she looks over at the locks on the doors. Which just happen to be open.

“Yeah. Distracting someone while I open the locks telekinetically? Not that hard.”

Seconds later the doors burst open, and a bunch of S.W.A.T swarm into the building just as the robbers guns fly out of their hands. The female yells, an anger filled sound as the Cowboy laughs and hightails it out of there. Police try to stop him, but he’s gone before they can, the robbers safely in custody a minute later. Which is when his father shows up.

“Alex.”

“Dad,” Alex answers to spite him. He hates being called anything but Chief Manes when he’s in uniform. His nostrils flare. It makes Alex feel good, for two seconds until Jesse crouches next to him.

“Why am I not surprised you’re stupid enough to get yourself taken as a hostage, son.” Alex doesn’t say anything, just looks at him defyingly. “You’re a disgrace.”

“Yeah, you’ve said so.”

Jesse snorts. “And flirting with a vigilante. A male on at that. You’re no son of mine.”

Alex hates how much that stings, even now, years after the first time his dad told him that. “Don’t worry, Chief Manes. I didn’t think I was.”

Jesse gets up, shooting him a look of disgust. “Stay here until my men tell you you can go. You’re still a witness.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies. It’s deeply ingrained in him, even now. An order is still an order.

He walks into his apartment about three hours later, limping slightly with his crutch in his hand. All he wants is a few painkillers, some water, and to go to bed. He knows he has to write a story on this tomorrow. Especially when his boss finds out he was at the bank. Arturo Ortecho is a fair boss, but he still wants the news out and the headlines rolling.

“Hey.”

Alex turns around, brandishing his crutch as a weapon. The cowboy is in the kitchen, looking at him. Mask on, hat on. Still looking like a fucking snack. Alex doesn’t have the time for his libido right now.

“What the fuck are you doing in my apartment?”

Cowboy shrugs. “Just wanted to see if you were alright.”

“Well I’m not. You can go now,” he replies. He’s tired, he’s sore, he’s angry at himself for still being disappointed when his dad treats him like shit.

“Look-“

“Don’t.” He takes a deep breath, releases it slowly. “Thank you. For not letting me die.”

“You’re welcome, Alex. It was my genuine pleasure”

“It’s unfair, you know.”

“What is? Cowboy asks with a sly grin. Ugh.

“You know my name; I don’t know yours.”

Cowboy takes a piece of paper out of his pocket. He folds it, and places it on the kitchen island. “My name is Cowboy.”

Alex huffs. “I know, I gave you that name.”

“And I thank you for that, I like it.”

They look at each other. Smiling. Until Cowboy looks away. “I gotta go. But I’m hoping I’ll see you later?”

“You will.” Some part of Alex would love to see all of Cowboy later. By the look on Cowboy’s face, the feeling might be mutual.

“Until then, Reporter Manes.”

“Until then, Cowboy.”

After Cowboy leaves, after Alex has had a shower, after he’s had a stiff drink, he walks over to the kitchen island and unfolds the paper Cowboy left behind.

There’s an M on it.

Alex doesn’t know what that means. But he’s excited to find out.

[thedevillord-writes]

Pandora - Sister

"A sister is both your mirror and your opposite"

-Elizabeth Fishel

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

"Did you see the episode last night?"

"Oh my God, it was amazing!"

"Takao-senpai is so hot when he's wearing that football uniform."

"He's so into you."

Matsuoka Haruko was popular. A high school senior, she spent a lot of her time establishing a position. She made sure to smile and greet everyone she met eyes with. She tried her best to include everyone in class for whatever activity. She would be the first to volunteer whenever someone needed help. Lesson notes, relationship advice, she had it all. Of course, it helped to be pretty and smart.

As student council president, she had always been really hands on, always making sure that events were organised perfectly and to everyone's liking. She listened to suggestions and opinions, and even when she did not agree, she would politely explain her own view and come to a compromise. She was the perfect liaison between students and teachers, always fighting for the best for her peers yet pleasing the faculties at the same time. On top of that, she was the top student in every class but never bragged about her grades. Instead, she would host after school study clubs and help those struggling. Blessed with looks, it was no wonder she became popular in school. Every girl wanted to be her, while every guy wanted to be with her. There was nothing more Haruko could ask for.

Except, there was.

"Oh wow, who is that with Mr. Watanabe? She's beautiful."

Those were words Haruko dreaded her entire life.

She had two sisters, one of whom she went to school with. While the two sisters led very different school lives, they were close. When Haruna started high school, Haruko made sure to tell everyone she knew about her little sister. They would have lunch together, and Haruko would share her experiences regarding which teachers to kiss up and which would let her get away with the occasional late homework. She told her which guys to avoid, though no one dared to bully the student council president's little sister. Haruko was protected from the very beginning.

Her other sister, however, was someone Haruko would preferably not be associated with. They were never close to begin with; they barely talked to each other when they were living under the same roof. Now that they were living apart, it only deteriorated their relationship. Haruko never saw her as a sister, just a selfish person who was willing to abandon her sisters. She lived a glamorous life while Haruko and Haruna lived in their childhood home, a two-room apartment. Everything she wore on her person was branded, while Haruko had to think twice before getting that one dress on the more expensive side.

Matsuoka Haruka was someone she did not want in her life, yet somehow, here she was.

~.~

Sisters were supposed to be close.

They were supposed to sleep in one tiny bed despite having separate rooms. They were supposed to do each other's hair and make-up, and share clothes. They were supposed to stay up late at night with ice cream and popcorn, talking about the crushes they had. But the Matsuoka sisters never did any of those things.

Haruna was ten years younger than Haruka was, they never really had the opportunity to do sisterly things because the eldest was too busy acting as a mother. Still, they had a relationship that would be considered close by most. However, there was always still distance between them, Haruka felt. There were times when she did not understand her younger sister, and times when Haruna would treat her more like a parental figure rather than a sibling.

With Haruko, however, it was a different story. They never got along, even when they were younger. There was a period of time when they lived separately and when Haruko was brought home, she resented both their mother and Haruka. She shut them out, of her room and of her life. When their mother passed, she did not shed a single tear but instead, insisted on living apart from Haruka. Her exact words were 'I cannot stand living with you for another second'. It was the one relationship Haruka desperately wanted to mend yet could not find a way to.

Sitting across from the sisters, even Miss Suzuki could tell the sisters did not get along from the tension alone. Still, she had to do her job and cleared her throat, opening up Haruko's file before looking to Haruka. "It's nice to finally meet you, Miss Matsuoka," Miss Suzuki smiled. "Haruko is an excellent student, as you probably know. She's doing extremely well in every class, and she's the student council president. She is also actively participating in activities. Her application would definitely look good. Students who do so well in school usually get a lot of support from home."

"I don't," Haruko stated. "We don't live together. I don't even know why she's here."

"I work a lot," Haruka explained. "I know I should make time for them but my schedule is crazy. I'll do better from now, I promise."

Haruko rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair and folded her arms, looking away. Those were words she said a lot, 'I'll do better from now'. Those were words their mother used to say all the time. Haruko never believed in them, however. They were always empty words and they would always be empty words. That was not changing because they were coming from Haruka.

"Let's talk about Haruko's choices," Miss Suzuki said, changing the subject as she sensed the tension thickening. "I see here she wrote that she'd like to apply to the law course at Tokyo University and Kyoto University. Normally, we would suggest our student to apply for a back up but with Haruko's grades she'd have no problem getting into either university as long as she does well at the acceptance exam."

"Oh really? That's amazing."

"Don't pretend like you care," Haruko muttered. "Are we done now? Can I go now?"

"Well, if there's no other questions then I sup-" Before her teacher finished, Haruko got up and left. This was her first time being rude to a teacher but she could not help it. Whenever she was around Haruka, this side of her would come out subconsciously.

Giving an apologetic nod to Miss Suzuki, Haruka went after Haruko. Haruna was waiting just outside the classroom and hurried after her two older sisters when they came out. Catching up with Haruko, Haruna linked their arms together and looked back to Haruka with a wink before turning her attention on her other sister. Since she could remember, Haruna had always been caught between her two older sisters. She was always forced to choose a side but she could never, only doing her best to make sure that everyone got along.

"Haruko-nee, aren't you hungry? I'm hungry," Haruna sighed, leaning her head on Haruko's shoulder. "I really want to try the steak at that café near our school. All my friends have been except me! But we can finally go today because Haruka-nee is here! She'll pay and we can have anything and everything we like."

Haruna's intentions were so obvious that even a blind person could see right through her. As much as Haruko hated Haruka, there was no way she could ever say no to her little sister. She knew that whatever happened between her and Haruka had nothing to do with the innocent Haruna and though she was often caught between them, both older sisters tried their best not to involve the youngest in their disagreements.

Begrudgingly, Haruko agreed to having a meal.

The three sisters made their way to the café Haruna wanted to visit and ordered a table full of food. Eager, Haruna started digging into the food while the two older sisters sat opposite each other awkwardly. If she were to be honest, Haruka could not remember the last time she sat down with Haruko and had a proper conversation. Every time they tried to talk, it would always end up in an argument with the younger storming off. Picking up her cup of hot chocolate, Haruka decided to make conversation anyway, despite knowing the outcome.

"So how have you guys been?" Haruka asked.

"Same as always," Haruko replied, not giving her much to go on.

"Any interesting thing going on in school? Crushes?"

"Haruko-nee has a lot of guys after her. Pretty sure the basketball captain asked her out last week."

"Oh really? That brings me back to my school days. I went on a date with the basketball captain too."

"Yeah, and the football captain, the fencing captain, and the archery captain. Aren't you sleeping with your current boss too? We all know you're a slut, no need to advertise to us."

With Haruko's little outburst, the atmosphere was brought back to awkwardness instantly. Their relationship was never good to begin with, but ever since Haruka started working, it worsened. For some reason, Haruko seemed to think that she was using her body to get her jobs and anything else she wanted in life. It was one of many reasons why she refused to associate herself with Haruka, and no matter how she tried to explain Haruko just did not want to listen.

"I heard from your teacher that you're having a festival at the end of the year, are you guys involved in any activities?" Haruka asked, changing the subject.

"Oh yeah! My class was planning on a café, I was thinking maybe I could borrow your old work uniform."

"Absolutely not," Haruko snapped. "You're not wearing that slutty outfit for some festival café. Just because she paraded herself, doesn't mean you have to."

"Stop it!"

Both Haruka and Haruko were stunned.

Haruna never raised her voice. She was always the docile one, the one calming everyone down, but never the one initiating an argument. Even if you tried to, she would never give you much to go on and it was impossible to carry on an argument when she would just look at you with her puppy-like eyes and a little pout. She would cry in uncomfortable situations, perhaps complain here and there, but she would never raise her voice and yell back. This was the first time.

"Stop talking about Haruka-nee like that," Haruna said, already calming down but looked at Haruko with stern eyes. It was a look neither older sisters were used to. "Do you think she wants to work at a maid café when she was just sixteen? She had no choice. Do you think she really wants to be working almost twenty-four-seven now? She had to give up on her own dreams to take care of us. Yeah, she's not around all the time but she's taking great care of us. Everything you want, she'd give you. She'd go to all lengths to get you the moon if you said you wanted it."

"Then get me the moon."

"Shut up! Do you even hear yourself? She's doing her best and you're being ungrateful."

"It's okay, Nana," Haruka said.

"It's not okay!"

"It's okay," Haruka smiled, reassuring her once more. There was not much she could do to change Haruko's opinion on her though she felt comforted knowing that Haruna saw and appreciated all her efforts. "Actually, I have to be somewhere else now so I'll just pay the bill. You guys enjoy." Not wanting to sour the situation further, Haruka picked up her bag and left the café after paying the bill.

It hurt her. It hurt her deeply to know that her sister thought so lowly of her. It hurt to know that Haruko would prefer not seeing her for the rest of her life.

As she was leaving the café, a car parked on the other side of the street caught her attention. It was too fancy a car to belong to residents around the area, and the owner (whom she unfortunately knew) of the car was leaning on the bonnet as if he had been waiting for her. She used to feel irritated and frustrated to see him though for once, she felt relieved to see a familiar face. Spotting her, Yosuke stood up straight and waved though Haruka crossed the street and wrapped her arms around him instead.

Shocked, Yosuke was frozen on the spot.

The first thought that came to mind was the woman hugging him was most definitely not Haruka. She was simply a woman who looked like Haruka. Unfamiliar with the situation, Yosuke found himself petting Haruka on her back though he had no idea what he was comforting her for. Pulling away after half a minute, Haruka looked up to him. "Do you drink?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you drink?" she repeated.

"Um...yeah."

"Good. Drive me to a supermarket."

~.~

Following Haruka around the supermarket, Yosuke was fascinated at every turn. He insisted on pushing the cart, walking behind her and picking up almost everything they came across. He never had much of a chance to experience common life, which was why he felt so attached to Haruka. She was constantly letting him experience new things, like shopping at a supermarket where you got to pick out your own fruits and the next aisle sold electronics. He felt like a child at an amusement park for the first time; every corner sprung something new and interesting at him.

Although she knew exactly what she wanted, out of habit, Haruka walked down every aisle. She did a little grocery shopping first, answering Yosuke's trivial questions at the same time. Why was she hitting the watermelons before choosing one? Why did she sniff the mangoes? Why did she put the fruits in another basket when they had a cart? It was intriguing to see how excited Yosuke was, as if he was a child. At the same time, it highlighted the difference between them.

"Wow, can you not get something better?" Yosuke asked, picking up the bottle of wine Haruka put into the cart and made a face. "I can get you a bottle that's worth like two hundred of this."

"Well guess what? I'm paying, so we're having the wine I want. And I want to drink cheap wine until I fall asleep tonight."

Still making a face, Yosuke put the wine back into the cart and followed Haruka as she turned onto the snack aisle. She picked several bag of crisps, some chocolate, and sweets dumping them all into the cart. Walking in front of the cart, she had her hand on it and pulled Yosuke along as she turned onto the next aisle where she picked two bottles of soft drinks.

With everything she needed, they finally went to pay. Once again, Yosuke could not help but be captivated by the simple conveyor belt that brought their items from one end all the way to the cashier. He even asked if he could bag the items because it seemed like fun.

Once they made it back to Haruka's apartment, she wasted no time in preparing the snacks and making drinks for both of them. Although she did not drink often, there were some things she learnt from the bartender at the hotel though most of her drinking knowledge came from Baba and their spontaneous nights out. She mixed the drinks as Baba had taught her, handing one over to Yosuke before downing hers in one shot.

"You seem to be familiar with drinking."

"I have my fun," Haruka shrugged.

"You want to tell me why we're drinking tonight? You don't really strike me as an alcoholic."

"Don't pretend like you know me, please. I hate when you do that."

Yosuke did not respond, but instead, he watched her mixed another drink for herself while he drank the one he gave her. People watching was always a hobby of his though Yosuke enjoyed one-on-one observations too. Of all his subjects, there was no one more intriguing than Haruka. In a split second, she could go through as many as five different emotions. She always said things she did not mean, though he was particularly fond of reading what was on her mind through her eyes. What was always confusing, however, was how she insisted that he was annoying yet every time he showed up, she would gladly accept his presence around her.

"Have you ever done something for the good of others but end up making things worse?" Haruka asked, already on her fourth drink.

"You've described my entire life," Yosuke chuckled. "Except, I don't do anything for the good of others. I do it for fun, and it always end up making things worse but more fun so it doesn't bother me."

"I'm talking to the wrong person," Haruka sighed, knocking back yet another shot. "I forgot that you're a literal child."

Pouring his second drink, Yosuke was starting to realise that she was not looking for a fun night with drinks. She was right in saying that she was talking to the wrong person. Yosuke was never the one someone would pour their heart out to. Not unless he fed them drinks with the purpose of making them pour their hearts out so he could use it against them some time in the future. What she was looking for right now, however, was a friend to talk to. Someone who understood what she was going through and could somehow make it better. He was definitely not that person.

"I'll tell you something I've never told anyone," Yosuke said.

[violetsmoak]

Appetence [10/?]

AO3 Link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/20251420/chapters/47997634

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: Red Robin is investigating the disappearance of a friend and stumbles into a spot of supernatural trouble. He doesn’t expect to be saved by Jason Todd, miraculously alive five years after his death and now with the inexplicable ability to commune with the dead. Meanwhile, when Jason returned to Gotham he meant to maintain a low profile and not get involved with Bat business. That was before he found out how hot his Replacement is.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: N/A

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Tim swerves into the Cave, skidding into the parking area with a little less finesse than usual. He’s got a shivering Batgirl bracketed between his arms on the bike, not having wanted to risk her falling off the back of it while they drove. He’s got a nasty case of frostbite on his shoulder himself, courtesy of a cold grenade in the wrong place and the wrong time.

He was helping Batgirl and Signal with the clean-up after Freeze’s latest temper tantrum and accidentally triggered the blast. Steph shoved him out of the way, taking the full brunt, and it was only due a quick reaction time and a few well-placed portable heating disks that she hadn’t been flash frozen.

She might not have any major lingering damage—she was well enough to request going to the Cave because of Alfred’s tendency to make homemade soup whenever any of them have a less than stellar encounter with Freeze—but Tim’s anxious to get her warmed up as soon as possible.

Also, he needs to treat his own injury.

“If-f I get a cold I’m k-killing Freeze,” Steph mumbles as Tim helps her off the bike and walks her toward the medical bay. “There’s nothing w-worse than a summer cold.”

“Says the woman who survived being used as a human pincushion.”

“It’s a d-different kind of misery.”

There are several heating blankets already plugged in and ready, and Steph is already peeling herself out of her uniform with shaking hands. Tim does the same, tossing aside tunic and body armor to rummage in a drawer for the special heating plasters; they warm an affected area gradually, making them perfect for frostbite.

“Geez, Tim, you been sk-skipping meals again?” Steph reproaches, frowning at him in his shirtless state. “Seeing a lot more rib than usual.”

“You’d do well to take a page out of his book, Brown,” Damian’s voice snarks from the doorway, loitering in all his scowling twelve-year-old glory. “I’m surprised your suit doesn’t split down the back when you move.”

“Shut up, Damian.”

“No, Tim, I got th-this,” Steph pipes up and then shoots the youngest Robin a steely smile. “I’ve g-got Martha Kent’s email. Wonder what she’ll have to s-s-say when she hears about Dami fat-shaming people.”

“You! You are not in contact with her!”

Damian isn’t exactly prone to flushing considering his complexion, but whenever he gets upset or embarrassed, red creeps across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. That, and the minute raising us his eyebrows suggests he’s more rattled by the threat than he pretends.

“I might be,” Steph allows. “You really wanna t-take that chance?”

Damian scowls at that, fists clenched, and then seems to decide not to risk it. It’s like watching the air be let out of a balloon.

Tim whistles.

“How is it a Kansas housewife has managed something not even two versions of Batman and the League of Assassins could?” he asks, somewhat awed.

“Pie and mom-guilt, I think,” Steph suggests.

“Clearly.”

“Hilarious,” Damian deadpans, facing Tim and doing his best to ignore Steph. “If you’re finished casting aspersions on my upbringing, perhaps you can make yourself useful.”

Tim raises an eyebrow at him.

“Father was distracted tonight,” the kid continues. “He won’t explain and Richard’s not here to do…whatever it is he does that makes him somewhat normal again.”

Tim blinks, having not expected that. “What exactly do you think I can do about that?”

“It’s no secret you and Father are experiencing “issues”,” Damian says and uses honest-to-goodness air quotes. “Perhaps seeing you will irritate him into letting something slip.”

“I highly d-doubt Bruce is that upset that he’ll unclench long enough to tell T-Tim anything,” Steph sniggers.

“Perhaps not, but once Drake strikes out I can ask Father after a requisite amount of time has passed and under less fraught circumstances than directly after a fight. He’ll be more likely to confide in me.”

“Right,” Tim drawls. “Because that has a snowball’s chance in hell of working. Pass. How do you even come up with these ideas, anyway?”

“It’s a simple enough ruse, Drake. Jon says it is called “tag-teaming”.”

Again, with the air quotes; clearly Damian’s latest visit to the Kent farm came with another dose of ‘how-to-be-a-real-boy’ lessons.

“And if you think Bruce is gonna fall for that and magically open up about something he doesn’t want to talk about, you haven’t been paying attention the past few years.”

“That’s not what this is,” Steph says, squinting at Damian like she’s trying to read his mind or something. “You’re worried.”

“I am no such thing!”

“You’ve gotta be since you’re asking Tim for a team-up.”

“I am not!”

“Good, because I’m not interested,” Tim says. “Whatever Bruce is brooding about will come out. It always does. Try prying it out of him beforehand and he’ll get cagey and mean about it.”

I know what that feels like, and I wouldn’t even wish it on you, demon-brat.

“Fine, don’t do anything,” Damian growls. “I should have known you would be too pig-headed and cowardly to approach Father while you’re in this pointless...detente.” He turns on his heel. “You’re as useless as I’ve always thought. Good to know it’s been confirmed.”

He stalks away.

Tim sighs and stares at the ceiling. “I guess on a scale of one to stabbed-in-the-chest, that went okay?”

“You two seriously need to deal with your drama,” Steph sighs, shifting beneath her blanket. “And you should go figure out what prompted all that. He really is worried. And hurt, now that you shot him down.”

“His entire existence has been dedicated to shooting me down,” Tim points out. “Literally sometimes.”

“Don’t exaggerate. Not his entire existence.”

“You know what I mean.”

“He’s a kid, Tim. One with a shitty childhood, a massive inferiority complex and who’s about to enter the super-fun world of puberty. And he came to you. Not me, or Dick—”

“Dick’s in New York.”

“Dick’s a phone call away and if Damian really wanted to go get him, he’d have stolen a car and gone to him. But he came to you. Probably because he knows as well as any of us that you’re the most Bruce-like and can talk to Mr. McBroody when he’s at his most pod-person level of weird.”

“Funny, I didn’t hear any of that beyond the constant insults.”

“He’s just jealous.”

“And that gives him a free pass?”

But his question sounds whiny even to him, and he sighs as Steph crosses her arms at him.

“When did you start becoming so wise and all-knowing?” Tim grumbles.

“Search me. I guess I just woke up one day and bam! All the secrets of the universe were just waiting for me to share them with the unwashed masses. Like you. You reek, by the way.”

“Right, because you smell like a rose.”

“Thanks!” Steph chirps unrepentantly.

“I think you are getting a cold,” Tim grumbles and starts out of the med bay. “The snot’s clearly going to your head and cutting off brain flow along with your sense of smell. I should go see if Alfred’s got anything to fix that.”

“Hot chocolate please!” she calls after him. “And don’t skimp on the mini marshmallows!”

“You know the way to the kitchen.”

But he’s already climbing the stairs and heading for the main computer dock. Tim was responsible for a different sector of the city, but it took longer than normal to get the all-clear. Maybe Bruce is distracted—if so, it would have to be something pretty serious.

Maybe Selina’s back in town…

“My god…!” he hears Alfred say as Tim reaches the top of the stone staircase. 

Bruce is seated, Alfred behind him and holding on to the back of the chair so tight the knuckles on his hands have turned white.

“Are you…are you quite sure, Master Bruce?” he asks, the question faint.

“I’m sure,” Bruce replies. “I was sure at the cemetery.” Tim’s ears perk up at that. “And these results…they just confirm it. He’s alive. Somehow…somehow, Jason’s alive.”

Tim freezes in mid-step.

Well…so much for me having to tell them…

He’s relieved.

He thinks.

The situation with Jason has been on his mind the whole week, and he’s never had a harder time keeping a secret than he did trying to stick to his promise to Jason. It’s been a constant struggle between his loyalty to Bruce—remembering how shattered he was in the weeks and months following Jason’s death—and his respect for Jason, a potential ally, friend and maybe one day family.

(He’s been doing his best to shut down the ‘inappropriate childhood crush’ angle during his mental justifications.)

Usually, Tim is good at separating his emotions from making hard decisions, but this time it’s…well. He blames it on still being in a state of shock that Jason is alive and that he has been alive all this time.

And he didn’t come back for some reason, and even now doesn’t want to have anything to do with the Family.

So why come back to Gotham at all, then?

“…looked him in the eyes,” Bruce is saying, in the same tone he uses to profile criminals. That’s troubling. “He’s as determined as ever. I’m not sure if there’s a broader reason for his return—for his…his avoidance. But I have a good idea. It will need confirmation; someone will have to keep an eye on him—”

“Master Bruce,” Alfred interrupts, tone breathless and almost indignant. “This is not some criminal mastermind or domestic terrorist. This is your—”

“I’m aware,” Bruce interrupts. “But there’s too much unaccounted for. He had a lot to say and still didn’t give anything away.” He rubs at his chin in thought. “He knew things, Alfred. Information on events he wasn’t present for—that were not shared in the media.”

Tim goes still, suddenly beset with a sense of foreboding.

“He’s communicating with someone,” Bruce goes on in manic calculation. “Someone knew he was alive. He said…'replacement’.”

Well, frack.

Tim begins to take a step back and nearly knocks into Damian, who’s crept up behind him with his usual maddening silence.

“Watch it, Drake!”

Damian’s voice echoes and Tim winces, head whipping around to glare at the boy.

Double frack.

There are moments—few and far between the actual assassination attempts and sabotage—where Damian displays all the bad timing that only younger siblings seem to possess. This is definitely one of those moments.

When he looks back, Bruce is already on his feet and stalking over, cape whipping behind him and expression like a thundercloud.

Damian, for his part, doesn’t seem to realize what he just did as he watches his father in surprise. This is echoed by Steph, who has followed him over, no longer wrapped in the blanket but wearing one of the generic sweatshirts that they keep stored in the recovery area.

Conveniently, they’re both blocking Tim’s nearest means of escape.

And now Bruce is towering over the three of them, eyes flicking briefly across each face, before zeroing in on Tim, who tenses.

“You,” he determines. “You knew.”

Annoyance pricks at Tim. There are two other people beside him, why does Bruce automatically think it’s him.

“Knew what?” Damian demands.

“Not now, Damian.”

“If Drake has committed some monumental blunder, I should—”

“Oh my god,” Steph gasps, her eyes roving past everyone to stare at the computer screen. The DNA comparison is still bright and clear, and in the background the picture of a young Jason Todd is unmistakable. “Is that…?”

“Jason Todd,” Damian reads stiffly, clearly recognizing the name. He scans the relevant information, including the date of the most recent DNA sample. “Todd is alive?”

“So it would seem,” Alfred confirms faintly.

“You’ve been feeding him information,” Bruce accuses Tim, and it’s almost a hiss. “You’re the replacement he mentioned.”

“Technically he had three,” Tim points out if only to try to stall.

“Aside from the fact you’re the only one here who doesn’t look surprised, he referred to a male.” Something passes over his expression, almost a grimace as if he’d rather not think of something, before he continues. “And if it were Damian, he would have informed me immediately.” He takes a step forward, the stony and emotionless countenance of Batman firmly in place. Tim half expects those thick gauntleted arms to grab him and hoist him in the air like so many an unlucky criminal. “You knew Jason was alive. And you didn’t say anything.”

“No,” Tim says, at last, deciding he might as well own it. “I didn’t.”

“Why?”

The sound is primal and broken, somewhere between a hiss and a growl. Tim is aware of the gazes upon him—Bruce’s anger, Alfred’s hurt, Steph’s confusion and Damian looking torn between satisfaction at Tim’s discomfort and agitation at his father’s obvious agitation.

“There were a few factors,” Tim admits. “First of all—”

“Factors?” Bruce barks. “This isn’t an experiment, Tim! This is my—this is Jason—!”

“And he asked me not to say anything!” Tim shoots back. “I figured after everything he’s been through, the least he deserved is someone listening to him.”

Trapped in an asylum and forgotten about? He deserves more than that…

“You never met him! There’s no way you could have been sure it was him, and even so—”

“I didn’t know him?!” Tim challenges. “There are a couple hundred pictures I took that say different! Or have you forgotten how I even got involved in all this?” He sweeps his hand around the cave. “I saw him enough at events when my parents were alive to recognize him, and even if I hadn’t, how many times did you make me go over his file when I started? Foster care records and psychological profile and autopsy reports! Since you needed me to be extra aware of what could happen to me if I screwed up as a Robin? And you might never talk about him around me, but Dick always did. Alfred too, sometimes.”

“That still doesn’t excuse your lack of discretion! You were foolish to interact with him—to make that decision without consulting with me, not least of all compromising the mission by sharing information that could expose everyone—”

“What exactly would I be compromising?” Tim shoots back. “Anyone who could impersonate Jason that well, who could talk about the things we did would already know where all the skeletons are buried. I doubt there’s much I could say that he didn’t already know, and you…you didn’t see him, okay?”

Tim’s defensiveness falters a little here, remembering how tense Jason had been throughout their whole encounter. He was thrown-off, uncomfortable, angry…and he was also trying his best not to let on how curious he was about how the family was doing.

But Bruce only bristles. “You still should have told me the minute you suspected—”

“Told you what?! ‘Hey, so, guess what, I ran into Jason last night. Yeah, that Jason, your son that got killed by the J—”

The name gets stuck in his throat, like his esophagus is closing, causing a crack he knows no one misses. Bruce winces and Steph’s confusion becomes worried. He needs to take an extra breath before he can force himself to keep talking.

“Killed by an explosion’,” he finishes. “We both know you wouldn’t have believed me if I told you he was alive and in Gotham.”

“No, we don’t.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Bruce. We both know exactly how it would have played out. I’d tell you what happened, you would tell me how impossible it is. You’d say stuff like you’d know if anyone had disturbed his gravesite, or that I’m stressed out or paranoid or under the influence of Ivy or Crane. Or you’d accuse me of making an inappropriate joke, and then we wouldn’t be talking again for a while.”

For a moment, Bruce looks hurt and a little guilty—probably because he knows it’s true.

“You would never lie about something like that,” he says at last. “If you believed Jason had returned, I would have trusted you enough to look into it.”

“And how was I supposed to know that? It’s not like you and I have exactly been all about great communication and understand since Captain Boomerang and Mr. Freeze.”

“I’ve been…giving you time.”

“Funny how giving me time looks a lot like avoiding me.”

“Master Timothy, that is quite enough,” Alfred interrupts at last.

All of his defensiveness toward Bruce vanishes in the guilt he feels for contributing to that look on Alfred’s face.

“I didn’t stay quiet to hurt anyone,” he tries to assure the old man. “And I was going to tell you all. But Jason asked for a week. For breathing room, I guess. I was going to tell you today—yesterday, really, if Freeze hadn’t shown up.”

“So you say,” Damian needles.

Tim ignores him. “I’d say it’s a coincidence that you found out tonight some other way, but considering what Jason’s into these days, maybe not.”

Bruce blinks in realization. “You know he’s a medium.”

“Yes, I know he’s a—wait.” Tim stops abruptly. “He’s what?” He knew Jason was working with the occult, sure, but this? “That part I missed.”

“He sees dead people?” Steph asks. “That kind of medium? Because I loved that show.”

Suddenly the reasons for Jason being sent to Arkham make so much more sense. Waking from his coma and suddenly be surrounded by ghosts? If he spoke to or acknowledged them, no wonder the staff thought he was hearing voices.

“Wait, how did you find out?” Tim asks, frowning. “You were talking about a cemetery before—that’s not exactly your jurisdiction.”

“Gordon put me on a case involving grave desecrations,” Bruce grunts. “That’s where I ran into Jason.”

“Literally or figuratively?”

Bruce is silent.

Tim groans. “Please tell me you didn’t attack him.”

More silence and Tim massages the bridge of his nose tiredly.

As if he wasn’t gun-shy about reconnecting with the Family before, now he’s probably going to leave for another five years…

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Steph says to Damian in a conversational tone.

“In case you’re forgetting, Brown, I’ve been dead and resurrected, so it’s not exactly a novelty.”

“Master Damian,” Alfred reprimands quietly.

No one likes to talk about that year.

“I just meant you’re not great at sharing, and now you’ve got another brother showing up—”

“Tt. We are not brothers. Any relation on paper ceased when he died.”

“Damian.” Bruce’s voice is sharp as a whip, and his eyes flash in warning. “I don’t ever want to hear that again.”

It’s not the most chastising he’s ever been, but Damian’s jaw snaps shut, and he swallows heavily.

Tim shouldn’t be bothered by the interchange, but he’s still hit by a pang of hurt and irritation. A dark, twisting little voice whispers at him, letting a longtime anxiety flicker back to the surface.

Of course, Bruce steps in and calls out Damian’s behavior when it’s Jason. Is it because Jason was his son longer? Or because Bruce chose Jason? Like he chose Dick and Cassandra. He’s even started choosing Duke now.

He never chose Tim. Not really. Tim just showed up and inserted himself into things.

Damian just showed up too, but he’s got that whole blood connection that he’s so proud of. Tim’s not—

Tim is like Steph. An outsider.

Maybe it’s why they connected to well back then—because they were the two that Bruce tried to stop from joining the life. Grudging allies, never quite family.

“I’m going to go,” Tim murmurs, turning and heading for his bike. “Wouldn’t want to get in the middle of a family meeting.”

“Tim—”

“You should probably call Dick,” he goes on. “He should find out about Jason from you this time.”

“Tim, stop—”

“I have therapy in three hours,” Tim cuts him off, “so I need at least some sleep.”

There’s no response then, not that Tim expected anything. His therapy sessions are sacrosanct; even Batman won’t interrupt Tim’s continued attendance. Tim’s always hated that, feeling as if he’s being overprotected, but right now, all he feels is a sense of relief.

To Be Continued 

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A Tangled Problem

So today is my birthday and I am still working on Night Terrors chapter 6 which fighting me rather impressively but I had this little scene pop into my head and demanded to be written. 

Please enjoy this little bit of fluff from the Lily ‘verse! 

Lily padded into the common room still quite sleepy but with a single goal in mind. She’d got up out of Jonny’s bunk whilst he was still fast asleep determined to wash and get dressed and make a nice breakfast for everyone. She’d had another bad nightmare and Jonny had stayed up late with her telling stories and singing. He made her feel safe and cared enough that the nightmares stopped being horrible and scary in her head for the rest of the night so she wanted to let him sleep and make a tasty breakfast. Her plan was going quite well when she washed and dressed but got stuck, literally, when it came to brush her hair.

 Lily’s hair was a thick mass of candyfloss-soft silvery tangles at the best of times but last night’s upset had obviously made it ten times worse.

 Her brush got stuck and no matter what she did it wouldn’t come free.

 It hurt when she tugged and pulled and struggled. Enough to make tears prick her eyes.

 So she headed to find the one person who’d probably be best to help.

Without ceremony she headed directly to the person sat on the sofa completely absorbed in their music to the point they didn’t notice her approach until she climbed into their lap.

 Tim physically startled to suddenly have a lapful of Lily appear between his chest and his guitar and stare intensely at him.

 “Um hello Sweetness?”

 “Tim! Help!” She pleaded.  

 He tensed, fully poised to murder the shit out of whatever that had prompted this response.

 She pointed.

 Tim’s eyes alighted on her very tangled-in-hair brush caught up in her tresses. His eyes ran a quick diagnostic that helpfully returned the report ‘Ouch’.

 “Oh.” He considered why she was showing him this and came up with nothing, “Um why—?”

 “Because Jonny’s asleep,” She explained simply, “and you’ve got the prettiest hair, you tangle it all up in your goggles but it always ends up nice and untangled again so you’ve got to be good at hair-brushing.”

 That, that was an impressive leap of logic he had to give her that.

 “But Raphaella…?” He began weakly

 “She has really pretty hair too and it’s even longer than yours but it’s never tangled! Yours does so you’ve got more practice at fixing it. Please?” She sniffed, “I’ve tried and tried and it only hurts more.”

 Tim took pity on her, that snarl up did look painful and it was obvious everything she’d tried had made it worse.

 Plus, she was doing the look that Jonny warned him about, the whole ‘her-eyes-take-up-half-her-face-look’ that made his insides get twisty and him want to fix whatever the matter was.

 He suddenly understood why Jonny was willing to do as much stuff as he did. Lily was bloody hard to say no to when she looked like a particularly sad octokitten.

 “Um, alright then.” He carefully put down the guitar to give the small sad child his full attention.

 It really was a disaster. Tim considered his approach whilst ignoring the growing warmth in his chest at the idea that the little who’d joined them not that long ago apparently trusted him enough to ask for help with something personal and left her vulnerable. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. Probably Bertie. Best not think about that then.

 “Okay Sweetness, can you turn around for me so I can get to the brush please?”

 “Ok, thank you Tim,” she pressed a heartfelt kiss to his bearded cheek before turning around obviously utterly convinced that he’d got this and she trusted him implicitly that he’d make this better.

 Fuck he hated Jonny for not being awake.

 Tim, not for the first time since Lily joined them, regretted being an only child with absolutely no sibling experience to deal with situations like this.

 Ah fuck it, he’d do his best.

 Using his enhanced vision, the patience he used when cleaning and repairing his weapons and the comb he kept in his coat pocket but would never admit to, he very carefully, painstakingly, detangled her hair.

 After half an hour he managed to free the brush from her head then proceeded to comb all her locks clear so she would be tangle free for the next five minutes at least. Maybe he’d have to ask Ashes to show Lily how to plait properly since he’d seen Ashes wear some excellent styles over the years.

 He’d never bothered to learn, he liked having long hair, it was something that was his own rebellion after school and whilst he was completing his mechanical engineering apprenticeship. It was easy to tuck it up under a cap after all.

 He’d tried not to show how heartbroken he’d been when he’d been constripted and shorn short again. Bertie had known of course and told him he was still just as handsome. During the time in the tunnels his hair had grown out again since no one was really paying attention to uniform rules in the depths of the war.

 He’d kept it long ever since. He wasn’t sure if it was out of defiance or as tribute to Bertie who’d never been able to keep his fingers out of it when they were alone together.

 Tim mentally shook himself, now was definitely not the time to start down that track. That route led to months locks in the armoury building non-stop. Or murdering Jonny repeatedly. Neither of which were viable responses right now.

 “Right then, I think we’re done, turn around for me Lily.”

 The little girl shuffled around on his lap to face him, she shook her head slightly. “It feels so nice! Thank you!”

 Little arms engulfed him in a grateful hug, enveloping him like the octokitten she masqueraded as half the time.

 “You’re very welcome Sweetness, now, let’s show you how to brush your hair without it getting all tangled up. Sound good?”

 “Yes please! Jonny helps me a lot but he doesn’t know as many tricks.”

 “Jonny doesn’t have as much patience, he’s had longer hair a few times but mostly because he couldn’t be bothered to cut it.”

 “Did he have hair as long as yours?”

 “No. Just to his shoulders.”

 “Oh.” She considered, “Mine’s already nearly that long.”

 “I had noticed.” He couldn’t help grinning.

 “I want to grow mine more.”

 “Oh yes?”

 “Yes! So I can be as pretty as Raphaella and you!”

 Tim felt both the blush and lump rise.

 “That’s, that’s kind of you to say Sweetness, but you’re lovely just as you are. You don’t have to look like anyone else to be better in some way.”

 Lily paused and thought about it.

 “Well, I won’t be exactly like you and Raphaella, my hair’s a different colour.”

 He couldn’t argue with the statement, she was a lot lighter than even Raphaella, “That’s very true.”

 “But I still want it long. I think it’ll be even nicer long.”

 Tim couldn’t help but smiling at that very familiar conviction, “Then I best show you how to look after it then shouldn’t I?”

 Lily beamed, lighting up the way she did whenever any of them took time to show her something. It was why they all, without exception, took time to show her things. They might be immoral, immortal space pirates but none of them were above wanting to feel like a hero for teaching a kid to tie her shoe laces, flip pancakes or make belt holes. “Yes please!”

 Which is why Brian walked in twenty minutes later looking for his fellow chef to find Lily and Tim in the middle of a hair brushing lesson, The child sat on the master-at-arms lap facing him, little tongue poking out in concentration, a long hank of Tim’s glossy tresses held reverentially in Lily’s tiny hand, her other carefully brushing it through as Tim talked her through the method of working in stages, his hands guiding hers, starting at the bottom and slowly working up to the roots.

 “This isn’t what it looks like—” Began Tim, colour rising dramatically in his face.  

 Brian raised an eyebrow.

 “Tim’s teaching me to brush hair properly so my brush doesn’t get all tangled up in my hair again because that hurts!”

 Tim sighed.

 “You know,” commented Brian, attempting to sound innocuous, “that looks exactly like what’s happening.”

 Lily looked puzzled, “That’s because it is.”

 “Quite right too,” Agreed the pilot, “looks like you’re doing a good job.” Brian took closer notice of their youngest crewmember, her usually wild mass of waves looked decidedly neat with that glossy sheen that only came with extensive grooming. “Did Tim do yours earlier?”

 “Yes! He’s really good! I got my brush stuck in my hair and he got it out and brushed it really nicely! I asked him because he has really pretty hair and is good at getting tangles out of it after he wears his goggles. He’s really gentle and clever at it!”

 Brian was amused to watch battle of emotions war over Tim’s face pride, pleasure, embarrassment and fury all crossed his face, clearly annoyed that this moment of softness with Lily was being witnessed.

 Brian found he didn’t care all that much for Tim’s comfort, this was more important. They were bonding over something other than guns, completely unprompted. This was good progress. The fact that Tim was obviously trusted enough by Lily for her to ask his help and that he’d clearly given it freely said at lot how comfortable they were becoming together which wasn’t bad for barely three weeks on board for Lily. Then again, last week her nightmare-stricken visit to his room that night she couldn’t find Jonny had probably cemented him as a ‘safe’ adult she could go to when the first mate wasn’t available.

 Brian hoped the rest of them would become as easy to approach eventually.

 It was nice to be reminded that deep under everything, he and his crew, at a push could remember how to be kind.

 “Right well, I’ll leave you to finish. Would you like me to start breakfast Lily?”

 The child paused looking conflicted.

 “I am more than happy to.” Brian clarified.

 “Oh um, yes please.”

 “Did you have a plan?”

 “Scrambled eggs and bacon and pancakes.”

 “Sounds good to me!” Approved Tim, feeling that she shouldn’t feel all that bad about not cooking one meal.

 Brian smile widened, pleased she was deciding to spend more time with Tim, “Me too, right then, I’ll get started, you can join me when you and Tim are done. See you later.” He left the scene as the two continued their lesson.

 “Right then, reckon you can do the rest before Brian finishes?”

 “Yeah!”

 Tim arrived to breakfast on the table, Lily holding his hand, the two looking decidedly neater than normal.

 As the others began to gently tease and pass the pancakes Brian overlooked the group, his family and couldn’t help but beam.