#But any splinter works best in missions when they are reserved for those which are big deals

[bluewithpurplepolkadots]

”Why does Master Splinter barely ever seem to leave the lair in missions to help the turtles in the 2012 series? He’s an adult!”

Because it’s a kids show so the primary solver of the problems involved is obviously going to be the kids. Having an adult swoop in and solve everything/baby sit all the time would probably be kind of boring for the intended audience. Boring for everyone actually. Next question.

[buck-buck-boose]

I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Language, mild descriptions of injuries

Word Count: 2.3k

Author's Note: My apologies, writer's block got the best of me.

Chapter Twenty-Two: The European Theater

June 11, 1943

Lottie’s heart was restless and mournful once more, with every beat she couldn’t help but notice the splinters and cracks that had webbed their way across its surface. Without her two best friends, she could never be completely whole. She put on a strong, clinical face, of course, but there were countless times that her emotional turmoil seemed as real as any wound she’d become accustomed to treating. Months had passed since Dr. Erskine’s assassination. It had been months since she’d been relieved of her duties on Project Rebirth. Months since she’d been torn away from Steve. One year, five months, and twenty-nine days since she’d stood on a train platform, watching as Bucky faded from view.

It had been a rather grim day when she’d received orders that she would be shipped out to London with the SSR. The morning after Dr. Erskine’s tragic death, she and her peers had been summoned to take blood samples from Steve; they were under the impression that it was for continued research purposes. The five of them had been exhausted, nearly asleep on their feet from staying awake all night. They’d tried to sleep at first, but all attempts were abandoned when all they could see was the lifeless body of their mentor every time they shut their eyes. They had held a silent vigil, nestled in their own beds with wide eyes, waiting anxiously for daybreak.

Once their duties had been completed, they followed Steve into the dimly lit central command room of the SSR. The room had been buzzing with energy, with agents milling about and Howard Stark in the midst of it all, tinkering away at some machine. Lottie had looked to Agent Carter, expecting new orders regarding blood sample analysis and re-developing the serum by studying Steve’s cellular structure; Colonel Phillips came along to crush her hopes of continued research.

“As of this morning, the SSR has been re-tasked,” Colonel Phillips began, his gaze firm on the nurses, “The president has ordered us to eliminate Hydra on the front lines. Project Rebirth had been officially shut down, and as employees of the Strategic Scientific Reserve, you ladies will be flying out on a new assignment with us.”

Nancy was the first to protest, “But sir, you said you wanted an army of Super Soldiers—”

Colonel Phillips held up a hand to silence her, “Ms. Powell, we are in the thick of a war, we don’t have the time or the money to redevelop a serum. You are all under contract with the SSR; these are your orders. We’re flying to London tonight.”

All that the nurses could do was look from each other to Agent Carter, who graced them with a small, sad smile. She’d just received the orders as well; it must have been somewhat of a surprise for her.

“What about Steve? He’ll be joining us, right?” Colonel Phillips stiffened slightly at her familiarity with the Super Soldier, most SSR agents accepted their strong bond, but Colonel Phillips never wavered in his beliefs regarding the relationships between soldiers and their nurses.

“Given that Rogers is our only Super Soldier, he is an extremely valuable asset, not one to be thrown willy-nilly into a war. He’ll be staying stateside while we handle the dirty work overseas. Senator Brandt has offered Rogers a promotion, which he's already accepted.”

Frustration bubbled in Lottie’s chest, “So we spent over a year slaving away in that lab and creating the perfect serum for your Super Soldier just for you to toss our hard work aside? He is perfectly capable of being on the front lines!”

The thought of Steve being sent into the belly of the beast that was Hydra had almost made Lottie sick, but the thought of her hard work going to waste agitated her to no end. Going to war was quite literally what he'd been made for, this was the goal from the get-go.

“Ms. Green, we know perfectly well what Rogers is capable of. He has exactly what it takes to carry out his mission here in the states flawlessly.” He dismissed them without waiting for a response, reminding them to “Be ready for takeoff at twenty-one hundred hours.”

The rest of that day had been a flurry of hurried goodbyes and the packing up of what little belongings they’d brought with them. Letting go of Steve was nearly impossible. They bade each other farewell on the runway, the airplane stood in front of them in all of its aluminum glory, moonbeams bouncing off of its surface.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this to you all over again.” Lottie’s gaze was sorrowful, focused on her sturdy black shoes. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye; his eyes always bore through her with an intensity she couldn’t handle at the moment.

“Hey, at least I’ll actually know where you’re going this time,” Steve half-joked. He nudged her foot with his own to draw her attention upward. His face had grown serious, “While you’re over there, make sure you keep an eye out for Bucky, alright? I haven’t gotten any word on where he is, but he’s with the hundred and seventh.”

Lottie knit her brows together and memorized the number. One hundred and seventh. One hundred and seventh. She would have to fight tooth and nail, climb every mountain and ford every stream, just to find James Buchanan Barnes once more.

But at the moment, she had to fight tooth and nail to get this Italian to sit still so she could properly disinfect and stitch his shrapnel-inflicted wound.

Shortly after their arrival in London, the SSR had shipped out to a base in Tunisia from which they could aid in Allied campaigns along the southern coast of Italy; there were plans to capture Sicily, but first, the Allied powers needed to station themselves on surrounding islands. So, they found themselves on the minuscule island of Pantelleria.

Unfortunately, the surrender of the island to the Allied powers was only achieved through 19 days of aerial bombardment. Lottie, her peers, and a small band of fresh-faced nurses had been left to deal with the casualties.

The mousy-haired nurse stood before a bedridden, red-faced man, whose plump fingers were wrapped around his thigh in an attempt to compress his wound. Lottie was armed with her newly acquired Italian-to-English dictionary, penicillin, bandages, and all that was needed to stitch up his wounds. She flipped through the pages of the dictionary; her mouth set in a firm line.

“Bisogno,” she began, gesturing to his freely flowing wound, “Pulire e cucire. Io aiuto.”

Half a dozen other nurses had attempted the same thing, all had offered to treat him, but the man had treated them all with the same oafish aggression that he was showing her.

“A fanabla! Non ho bisogno del tuo aiuto.” He used his free hand to wave her off, spittle spewing from his lips due to his intensely glottal speech. The movement of his deep brown eyes, how they flickered to and fro, indicated his increasing agitation in such a high-stress environment. Lottie genuinely understood his hesitation to accept her help; he and his kinfolk had just spent the past nineteen days trying to survive a deluge of attacks from the Allied forces. Why should he accept help from the very people who nearly destroyed their island?

Lottie gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on her dictionary, “Prego, signore!” For once, she wished that Nancy would show up out of the blue to push her aside and take matters into her own hands, but there were far too many injuries for multiple nurses to work on the same patient at once.

“Lasciami in pace, cretina!” He growled, flinging his free hand out to knock her tray of supplies aside. Lottie stabilized the tray on his bedside table before any supplies could become contaminated, no way in hell was she going to spend another fifteen minutes re-sterilizing those damn syringes.

She’d about had it with the man. If she transferred him to another nurse, the SSR would surely doubt her abilities as a well-established nurse. Lottie would surely deal with more aggressive soldiers on the front lines. Forgoing any sort of decorum or professionalism, she pinned his free wrist down to the cot with her right hand, “Io aiuto. O tu morire.” The foreign words were awkward on her tongue and she didn’t sound nearly as assertive as she’d wished, but the Italian man finally gave in, grumbling what was probably an assortment of curses at her.

Lottie made quick work of removing the shrapnel that had embedded itself into the man’s skin in muscle. It was relatively easy, as she’d had enough practice that morning, dealing with what felt like dozens of injuries just like his. When the island had finally been surrendered, a bevy of nurses and medics had been flown in, Lottie and her peers included.

The Cadet Nurse Corps’ newly initiated training programs had been quite beneficial for such circumstances, but with such accelerate courses of study, many of the nurses were inexperienced and uncertain in their abilities. Thus, most of the morning was spent overseeing the work of the newer nurses; the advice was administered when needed and tasks were delegated to the older nurses when stitches were too tight and fingers too shaky.

The Italian man’s wound was just one of many, at this point. The only remarkable aspect of the interaction was his temperament. Sure, many other islanders had expressed distrust and dismay with the Allied forces, but they had at least been more eager to be treated for their injuries.

“Fatto presto, signore,” she murmured as she began the careful work of stitching his lacerations shut. Her Italian was dreadful, comprised entirely of juvenile phrases and briefly memorized words that could just barely communicate her intentions to her patients. She knew that she probably looked to be a bumbling idiot in their perspectives.

By the time she was finished, nearly every inch of her skin was damp with sweat— although the medic tent provided shade from the sun, its heat, combined with the body heat of so many civilians seemed to suffocate her. The air was thick, her curls clung to the nape of her neck, and her once crisp white dress had become damp and splotched with various hues of orange and blood, remnants of blood and dust.

The former nurses of Project Rebirth remained close, even after the termination of their research, they were often found huddled in one corner of the nurse’s tent, playing cards and smoking, or whispering gossip of their next assignment.

“How long do you think they’re gonna keep us here?” Mary glanced over the edge of her letter, looking to Gladys expectantly. Gladys was always in the know with these sorts of things, keeping quiet and listening in around the higher-ranking officers.

Gladys hummed in thought, rolling an unlit cigarette between her fingers, “From what I’ve heard, we might be heading toward mainland Italy soon. But I’m not sure.”

Lottie frowned, “But what about Operation Husky? I mean, we just bombed this damn place for a good base to capture Sicily.”

“Well, I’ve heard there’s a Hydra base on the mainland. These girls might stay behind for Operation Husky, but we’re better prepared for whatever Hydra has in store for us.”

Betty groaned, “I don’t care where they send us, so long as the soldiers aren’t great louts like these guys.” Lottie had to agree, the soldiers stationed with them in Tunisia and on Pantelleria had been rather uncouth. They drank far too heavily most nights, which typically resulted in uncomfortable interactions between the men and the nurses.

A voice piped up from the other end of the nurse’s tent, a girl of only around 19— her name might have been Nelly —smiled at them brightly over a newspaper, “Well wherever you go, I hope you get to see a USO show because I’d give anything to see Captain America!”

“Sorry, who?” The name was somewhat familiar to Lottie, but she and the other women had never shown particular interest in the USO. All that she knew was that their shows usually had chorus girls all dressed in short skirts and red lipstick, just what a soldier needed to see after what seemed like an eternity in hell.

Nelly ambled over and tossed her newspaper onto Betty’s bed, which the women usually crowded around. None of the women spoke as they took in the headline: “The Star-Spangled Man’s European Tour.”

“What the hell?” Betty broke the silence and held the newspaper up to the light, squinting at its front page. The mouths of the other four nurses were agape, they were at a loss for words as they processed the fact that the culmination of their hard work was being brandished as some sort of cheery mascot for the war effort.

Lottie felt a righteous anger building within her. It was one thing to separate her from one of her best friends for the sake of pursuing separate missions, but this? This was a joke. Laughable, really. She could only think of the late nights, the early mornings, every moment of their time at Camp Lehigh had been dedicated to perfecting the Super Soldier serum. Now that they had their Super Soldier, they decided to waste his talent and their hard work. It was a slap in the face, a punch to the gut. Lottie could only hope that Steve would be reassigned after his European tour; he was destined to be more than just a show pony, she was sure of it.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Pandora Hearts Reverse Big Bang! My partner Hadrian drew an adorable piece of the three of them sleeping together and I wanted to write a fluffy AU for that (look, I really need a world where Lacie and Oswald live).

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At twenty, Gilbert Nightray was used to plans going awry. It was par the course when it came to the mischievous Oz Vessalius. Despite being childhood friends for over 15 years, the only thing Gil could predict about Oz was that his suggestions never went as expected. Toss in the ever-hungry Alice, and well, there really was no point in planning, just preparing. Luckily, that was something Gil was good at. Every time they went off on an adventure, he packed a bag full of first aid kits, healing potions, and enough supplies to last a week.

 However, even he couldn’t have predicted the situation they were in. As they raced through the forest, Gil glanced over his shoulder to confirm that yes, a giant elephant-sized boar was chasing them. He pressed a hand against his hat to keep it from flying off.

 “Why are we running?” Oz asked breathlessly, just barely managing to keep apace. His physical strength wasn’t great on his best days, and after he’d been cursed…well, what little muscle he’d gained in the past ten years was gone.

 “Why do you think?” Gil snapped, his trench coat flapping behind him as he leapt over an overgrown root. Behind him the boar angrily snapped his head at an offending tree, skewering it with his horns. Wood splintered from the onslaught and Gil paled—that could have easily been them. That could still be them.

“We could just fight it!” Oz argued, his green eyes glowing slightly as he started to summon his magic.

 “Your magic isn’t what it used to be,” Gil argued, resisting the urge to tuck him under his arm like a ball and just sprint out. He probably could. Oz was ten now, not twenty, and as tiny as he was, he’d be easy to carry.

 “I want to eat him,” Alice announced, her eyes taking on a more rabbit-like appearance.  

 “Aren’t rabbits supposed to be herbivores?” Gil immediately whacked the back of her head. Maybe he should just tuck both of them under his arm—two ten-year-olds couldn’t be that heavy, right? “We’re only barely ahead of that thing because the forest’s slowing it down.”

 “But he could be tasty,” Alice protested, glancing over her shoulder. She licked her lips in anticipation.

 “Why is it always food for you?” Gil grumbled. Honestly, Alice’s first approach to everything was bite first, ask questions later.

 “Because meat is king,” she declared triumphantly. Why was that her answer to everything? Her physical strength was far greater than Oz’s, no matter what age. Gil wished it wasn’t; he’d rather hear her wheeze and pant than be forced to listen to whatever stupid inane thought crossed her mind.

 “And you’re too weak too fight,” Gil pointed out, feeling a headache forming. He had medicine for that. “You guys are younger, you can’t act like you normally do! You,” he turned to Oz, “Don’t have the magical reserves. And you,” he directed his glare at Alice, “Can’t fight like you used to.”

 Alice’s cheeks puffed, the sign of an impending sulk and Gil’s headache worsened. Oz frowned. “We could still fight it.”

 “Didn’t you promise Oscar you’d stay out of trouble?” Gil pleaded, ducking an overly tall branch. While the boar was slower, he hadn’t stopped. Every step caused a tremor and it was a miracle none of them had fallen over yet.

 “But—” Oz whined.

 “And Lacie—” Gil cut himself off immediately; it was always a mistake to bring up Alice’s mother. She was even wilder than her daughter. A better tack was her overprotective uncle. “Oswald? Did you agree to be careful for him?”

 “Booo,” Alice pouted as she hopped over a stone. “I can fight.”

 The earth shook behind them. Gil barked, “Not against that!”

 And then, before they could protest, he grabbed their hands. If he had to drag them to safety, he would.

 -x-

 “I think we’re getting close,” Alice muttered, sniffing the air as she lifted a branch with a hand. While she hadn’t fully transformed into her rabbit form, her red eyes and long, claw-like fingers gave her an inhuman look.

 Gil could never get used to her partial transformations. Full transformations were fine, he could handle giant, bow-tied rabbits and short, ill-tempered women. Actually, considering how much Alice ate, it was amazing that she’d never grown taller, that even at twenty she couldn’t reach higher than his chest. Pulling his gun out of its holster, he asked, “Are you sure?”

 “What do you mean, am I sure?” Irate, she glared at him. It was more annoying than intimidating. “My nose is better than yours.”

 “Only if you’re actually using it properly and not smelling meat like last time,” he whispered back, trying to keep his voice down. “You’re a rabbit, how does that work?”

 Alice snorted. “Meat is king.”

 Gil stared at her. She’d said that with utter confidence, as though those three words explained everything. In fact, she’d been so matter-of-factly about it that for a minute, he’d doubted himself. That maybe he was the one ignorant to the ways of the world.

 On his right, Oz snickered as he drew his sword. The metal looked dull in the dim light. “She got you there.”

 That was enough to snap him out of it. “That doesn’t explain anything!”

 “It explains everything,” she retorted, hands on her hips, her quarry all but forgotten. “What more do you need?”

 Gil knew he ought to be the bigger person. They had a guild mission, after all, and that came before any petty differences between them. If Alice wanted to act like a child, like she often did, he shouldn’t stoop to her level. No, he should finish securing the pixie they’d been hunting for days, saving a village from its mischief, ensuring that his standing in the ranks didn’t—

 “If your head wasn’t made of seaweed, you’d understand,” she added with a presumptuous sniff.

 Gil forced his lips into a tight smile, resisting the urge to react. There’s no point in arguing with her, he reminded himself. Be the adult.

 “Where is the pixie?” he asked through gritted teeth. The sooner they finished with this, the sooner they’d go back.

 “Over there,” Oz replied, whistling softly as he peeked through the brush. “I think he’s asleep.”

 “That’s good.” Gil brightened at this one speck of good news. “Is there anyone—”

 Before he looked, before he even finished his sentence, Oz pointed at the pixie. “Alice, go!”

 Without hesitation, Alice ran forward, transforming into a giant rabbit as she did. There was a large scythe in her hands now, pulled out from whatever pocket dimension she’d left it in. “Just stay there and watch,” she ordered before disappearing into the foliage.

 Gil’s jaw dropped. “Oz!”

 “Come on, Gil!” Oz grabbed his hand, smiling innocently. Almost all of their misadventures had started with that smile.  “We can’t let her have all the fun!”

 “Why do you always do this?” Gil hissed, not sure how he’d force them to understand this one, common sense idea. “We should have to plan first!”

 He followed anyways—he’d never been able to say no to Oz, and he doubted he’d ever will. They were almost the same height, with Oz slightly shorter despite all of the milk he drank. There was something comforting about the back of his head, of that golden hair, and maybe it was that for all of the trouble they’d gotten into over the years, they’d always ended up fine at the end of it. Oz was strangely reliable.

 “It’s just a pixie,” Oz scoffed, trotting quickly after Alice. “She’s going to catch it before we get there.”

 In hindsight, those were famous last words. As soon as they made it past a particularly thick tree, pushing through the branches to reach a small clearing, they found Alice in the center. She slammed down her scythe at a pixie that was almost half her size. The creature had iridescent wings that fluttered quickly as he dodged her attack.

 “That’s a big pixie,” Oz muttered. He held his sword loosely. “I don’t think the cage we got is big enough for him.”

 “Me neither…” Gil frowned, pulling out his gun and several enchanted bullets. “Maybe we can knock him out.”

 Alice struck again, her scythe almost cleaving the creature in two. Which would have solved the transportation issue but luckily the pixie parried her attack. It almost knocked her off balance and she flipped backwards to stabilize herself. Legs tense, she prepared to strike again when the pixie shot her with a green bolt of magic.

 Smoke filled the air and Gil’s eyes widened as she disappeared. “Alice!”

 “Alice!” Oz yelled as he charged through the smoke to get to her.

 “I’m fine.” Alice coughed, still hidden by the smoke.

 The pixie cackled and Gil cocked his gun, looking for their enemy. It was time they took this battle seriously. Trees lined their small clearing, leaving many places to hide if the pixie headed for the shadows. Craning his head left and right, he couldn’t find their target.

 The smoke drifted past him slowly, dissipating as the gentle wind blew, and Gil glanced at where he’d last seen Alice. As the air cleared, he couldn’t find a big, stocky humanoid rabbit.

 Instead, he saw a small, child-sized rabbit. While it was dressed in Alice’s clothes, they were far too big for the rabbit, and they hung off it loosely.

 Oz stood in front of the rabbit, his lips parted in surprise. “Alice?”

 The rabbit’s ears twitched, and she looked up at him. “Why are you so big?”

 “Did he shrink you?” Gil asked, wishing he had his brother’s skills in magic identification.

 “Shrink?” Alice stood stock still, looking from Oz to Gil to the trees. If she didn’t have black fur, he was certain she’d be pale as a ghost. She tried to pick up her now too-heavy scythe, the handle oversized in her hands, before dropping it in horror. “WHAT HAPPENED?”

 “Oh wow!” Oz crouched in front of her, recovering from his shock entirely. Reaching forward, he rubbed her ears. “You’re so cute now!”

 “I’m not cute, I’m terrifying,” Alice retorted, growling slightly. She didn’t pull away from his touch though and Gil stored that info away to taunt her with later.

 “Of course you are,” Oz cooed.

 From the corner of his eyes, Gil saw something move. He spun on his heel, gun raised, finger on the trigger. There was the pixie, hovering in the air, another green bolt in his fingers.

 “Watch out!” Gil shouted, already squeezing the trigger.

 BANG! A bullet pierced through the air. As it reached the pixie, it transformed into a net, entangling the prankster.

 Jerking back in surprise, the pixie released its bolt. The green energy arced through the air before hitting Oz square in the back. Another burst of smoke filled the area.

 “Oz!” Gil shouted, racing forward to knock out the pixie before he could do anymore damage.

 “Wow, that tickled,” Oz replied, coughing slightly. After a moment, he swore. “Shit.”

 Oz rarely swore openly, and Gil swallowed as he turned to where his best friend stood. The air had cleared now, leaving behind a blonde child. His cloak hung loosely on his frame, almost slipping off his shoulders. His sword, now too heavy for him, fell out of his hands with a clatter.

 “You’re a kid,” Gil stated, realization dawning.

 Alice transformed back into her human form, confirming his fears: she looked like a kid too. With a smug smirk, she wrapped an arm around Oz, ignoring how her clothes almost fell off her. “Ha, who’s the cute one now?”

 -x-

 Gil groaned as he leaned against the hard wall of the crevice they were hiding in. No matter how many times he thought about how they ended up in this situation, it felt ridiculous.

 “I think we’re safe now,” Oz whispered, poking his head out of their hole. Gil almost jerked him in reflexively. In the bright afternoon light, Oz was hard to miss.

 “I can’t smell him anymore,” Alice muttered, sulking as she crouched in the back of the small cave. With a stick, she drew pictures of pork chops and ham on the dirt ground.

 “Good.” Gil sighed, relaxing against the wall. He wanted nothing more than a hot bath but settled for sitting on the ground. These days, he felt more babysitter than adventurer. His nerves couldn’t take much more of this. “Next time I say run, run.”

 Oz pouted. “I still think we could have taken it,” he muttered.

 Gil gave him a tired look. “Oz.”

 “But that’s not why we’re here,” Oz admitted, which was as close to an apology as he’d get. Crouching in front of Gil, he reached up to ruffle his hair. “Good job!”

 “I’m not the stupid rabbit,” Gil muttered, looking away. Yet he didn’t pull away and maybe that was something he and Alice had in common.

 Unfortunately.

 Oz chuckled, letting go and stepping back. “Alright, let’s finish our mission! I want to be tall again! I want to bully Gil properly again!”

 “Don’t bully me,” Gil grumbled half-heartedly, trying not to smile.

 “I want meat!” Alice chimed in. Gil wasn’t sure if she hadn’t followed the conversation or if she just didn’t care about it.

 Oz looked at him expectedly and Gil sighed. Standing up now, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I want to stop worrying about you two.”

 “Oh, Gil.” Oz chuckled, though he looked touched. Standing up, he beamed at him, no malice in his voice. “You’ll always worry about us.”

 The truth in his words cut deep and Gil flushed. Coughing into his hand, he looked away. “I want to worry about you less.”

 Oz bumped into him lightly and nodded. “Alright, then we just have to find those berries, right?”

 “Yeah, Break said you just had to eat them and you should turn back to normal…” Gil trailed off. As reliable as his mentor was, he was also the kind of liar who’d take advantage of the situation to play a prank or run an experiment. There was a reason he and Oz got along; they were far too alike and Gil wished he could have stopped them from meeting. “It’ll work, right?”

 Alice growled at Break’s name and looked around quickly. Suspiciously, she lifted a rock, squinting at the dirt beneath it. “He’s not here?”

 “Of course not, or we’d have just fought that boar,” Gil scoffed, rolling his eyes. This whole mission would have gone better if they’d just brought one other person. How he ever let Oz talk him into coming here without backup, Gil couldn’t explain.

 “Nothing to it then.” Oz stretched his arms above his head, looking oddly refreshed. “We’ll just have to get those berries. They’re at the top of the mountain, right?”

 As usual, Alice thought with her stomach. “I hope they’re yummy.”

 “Maybe we should take a couple extra with us,” Oz suggested, rubbing his chin. He scowled. “I can’t believe the pixie couldn’t just turn us back.”

 Gil slouched over slightly. “I should have caught him sooner.”

 “And I probably should have listened to you earlier.” Oz reached up to pat him on the back. “Still, it’s kinda fun pretending to be my own love-child.”

 That was the first Gil heard about it. Aghast, he stared down at his friend. “Your what?”

 “Sec-ret love child,” Oz repeated slowly. Chuckling, he walked over to Alice and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “By the way, I told all the maids that she’s yours.”

 “Mine?” Gil screeched, forgetting all about the boar, the berries, or even the need to hide. He almost fell backwards and leaned against the wall for support.

 Alice grabbed Oz’s collar. “I’m what?”

 “The maids think it’s cute?” Oz weakly warbled, realizing a little too late that maybe he shouldn’t have admitted this in a cave in the middle of nowhere.

 They should start making their way up the mountain. They should be quiet. They should conserve their strength.

 Gil stepped out of the cave for a breath of fresh air, ignoring the ruckus behind him. Oz could wait a few minutes before getting saved.

 -x-

 Hilariously, by the time they reached top of the mountain, Oz’s worst injuries were still from the cave. The rest of the trip had been as eventful as their first few minutes in the forest—as weak as Oz and Alice were now, their only options were to run and hide from monsters.

 Unfortunately, on this mountain this meant a lot of running and hiding. Gil’s arms were sore from dragging Alice away; she honestly thought she could take on every beast they met and Gil didn’t have nearly enough healing magic to prove her wrong.

 As they reached a plateau on the top, a large field filled with wildflowers, Gil was too exhausted to do anything more than just collapse. He stared up at the night sky, surprised. The afternoon felt like it had only been minutes ago, and yet there the stars were, twinkling above. “Is this it?”

 “I hope so.” A worn Oz lay down on the long grasses next to him, sounding as ragged as Gil felt. For all of his adventuring, his stamina had always been terrible. “We just need to find the berries now, right?”

 “And then make it back down.” Gil covered his eyes with the back of his hand and took a deep breath. A sickly-sweet scent filled his lungs and he coughed. “That’s strong.”

 “It’s disgusting.” Next to him, Oz wrinkled his nose. Despite his affection for sweets, he didn’t like the cloying scent either. “What are these flowers?”

 “Not sure.” Gil looked to his right, at the flower brushing his cheek. It had a dark lilac colour, barely visible in the moonlight. Neon blue spots dotted the petals, giving the plant an eerie look. Something about it tickled his memory as he slowly sat up. “Where have I seen that before?”

 “A book?” Oz guessed flippantly. Lifting his head, he scanned their surroundings. “Where’s Alice?”

 “Hmm?” Still focused on the flower, he glanced around haphazardly. The field was penned with trees, though they were so far out he couldn’t make out their individual shapes. “Maybe in the forest? Or by the bushes?”

 “Alice?” Oz called out, scrambling to his feet despite his aching limbs. There wasn’t a response, just the wind through the trees, and he yelled again, “ALICE!”

 This time, a small voice called out. Gil couldn’t make out the words. To their left, a small figure dashed toward them, growing bigger until he could make out Alice’s bright grin. “Oz!”

 “There you are!” Oz relaxed. Clasping his hands behind him, he acted as though he hadn’t been worried seconds ago. “Where’d you go?”

 “To the berries of course.” Alice snorted, holding out her right hand to reveal a small pile of the very berries they were looking for. “Unlike you lazy bones, I can get the job done.”

 For once, Gil was too tired to argue. He merely plucked on, inspecting it. It was a bright yellow, like the sun, and the leaves had an oval-like shape outlined with prickly points. All in all, it looked just like the ones Break had shown him before. Begrudgingly, he praised her. “Good job.”

 Alice lit up. “It was a good job, right?”

 She beamed happily at him before leaning forward expectantly. Gil sighed and reached out, patting her head. “That’s what I said.”

 She bounced on her feet before she stood up straight once more. “Now we can get big again!”

 Oz gingerly took one berry from her hand, eyeing it thoughtfully. “These are the right ones, right?”

 “Gil just said they were,” Alice pouted, her cheeks puffing up like a chipmunk.

 “If I die, I’m haunting you,” Oz muttered before swallowing the berry. He scowled. “That’s even sweeter.”

 “It’s like honey,” Alice added, utterly enamoured. She ate another one before Gil could stop her.

 “Hey, wait!” Gil snatched the rest of the berries out of her hand. A few were crushed between his fingers, their delicious juices dripping down his fingers. His raised his hand out of her reach. “You don’t know what eating more could do to you.”

 “But it tastes so good,” Alice grumbled, jumping up to grab the sweet treat. When it was obvious that she couldn’t reach, she stomped on his foot.

 “Ouch!” Gil glared at her, stepping back. “You stupid rabbit—”

 “Seaweed head—” Alice growled back.

 “Nothing’s happening,” Oz interrupted smoothly, frowning. He looked at his hands. “I’m not getting taller.” He paused. “Or older.”

 “Why in that order—” Gil shook his head, focusing on the actual issue. He glanced at Alice, who still couldn’t reach his chest, let alone his shoulders. “Alice isn’t either.”

 “That’s strange…” Oz sat down once more, plucking a flower and twirling it between his fingers. “Maybe it takes time?”

 “Or maybe you have to sleep…” Gil trailed off, realization dawning. Crouching, he inspected the flowers once more before covering his mouth. “Cover your mouths!”

 It was too late. He heard a soft thud, followed by another, and he found both Alice and Oz passed out. His own vision was going dark and he silently swore before collapsing as well.

 -x-

 “They’re so cute,” Lacie cooed, tucking a lock behind her ear as she stared down at her daughter and her friends. The trio were curled up together, instinctively seeking each other even when unconscious. “I need a picture.”

 “Lacie,” Oswald murmured, giving her a baleful look as he crouched next to Alice. They were breathing at least. “We need to take them back.”

 “Do we?” Lacie sighed, pouting slightly as she knelt next to Oz. Her puffy dress spread around her like a mushroom. She gently pushed his hair out of his face. “They look so peaceful.”

 Break poked Gil’s cheeks, chuckling. It was obvious they were master and apprentice; their uniforms were far too similar to claim otherwise. “They do. We should draw on their faces.”

 That stopped Oswald and he looked at Break, his expression blank. “What?”

 “It’ll be fun!” Break chuckled, glancing at the field around them. In the day, the flowers were closed, the air crisp and clean. “It’ll be a punishment for not bringing us with them. And for entering this field at night. They should have known better.”

 “Yep.” Lacie nodded sagely, already pulling out a marker from her purse. “These flowers’ scents are like a sleeping spell. They should have remembered.”

 “None of them paid attention to my lessons.” Break raised a sleeve and wiped an imaginary tear.

 “Or my training.” Lacie hunched forward, sighing sadly.

 Already hoisting Alice in his arms, Oswald looked back and forth between the pair. They both looked at him with watery eyes and he flinched.  “I guess…”

 And just like that, they both grinned, pulling out markers from who-knows-where. “Great!” Lacie chirped, drawing a spiral on Oz’s cheek.

 “He’ll never forget,” Break chimed in, giving Gilbert glasses and a mustache.

 Oswald held Alice tighter. Maybe he should just save her and run.

[fialleril]

Flash Fic: Bart Delivers

@triscribe, here’s the second ficlet in the Flash family shenanigans ‘verse. Technically, this takes place the night before the first fic, Invitations, but it makes better sense if you read that one first. In which Bart has a very exciting two minutes, and assorted speedsters, Bats, and Rogues are varying degrees of annoyed.

Still working from a mainly comics based ‘verse, but I’m using the versions of Trickster and John Stewart (and his terrifying landlady) from JLU, and I’ve borrowed the idea of Captain Cold having a wife from JLU, as well. (Because, come on, there’s too much comedic potential there to pass up.)

Finished this a lot sooner than I expected, because honestly, Bart is really fun and really easy to write. It’s like stream of consciousness writing. Amazing.

As before, check the tags for more notes!

Bart Delivers

There sure were an awful lot of invitations. It took Bart a whole nanosecond to flip through them and read all the names. Why did Wally and Linda want that many people at their wedding, anyway?

He thought about asking Wally exactly that, but only for a fraction of a picosecond. Wally’s answer for why he was getting married in the first place was “it’s more romantic,” so obviously he wasn’t going to give Bart any serious answers.

Anyway, all these invitations obviously weren’t going to do anybody any good just sitting there on the coffee table. Bart didn’t waste much time wondering why Wally hadn’t just delivered them himself. Sometimes he was just lazy like that. Must be a boring old grownup thing.

Linda wasn’t nearly as boring, and she could actually beat him at Mario Kart sometimes. Okay, most of the time. Really Linda was pretty cool, and Bart figured she would have easily delivered the invitations herself, if she had superspeed. But she didn’t.

So, obviously, it was up to him.

It took him almost a whole second to sort the invites by address, but that was only after he’d dashed out of Wally and Linda’s apartment with the whole stash of them, because sometimes Wally got weirdly particular about things, and Bart figured he was on a roll, he had this, he could get them all delivered in five minutes tops, no problem. Probably faster. Definitely faster. And then that would be one less thing for Wally to be worried about, and that would probably make Linda happy, too, and then maybe they’d both agree to play Mario Kart with him tomorrow, but he’d tell Max it was important Flash business or something and then he wouldn’t have to do any of those weird Speed Force meditation things all day and this was gonna be great.

So great.

Okay, okay, right now he needed to focus, obviously. He’d wasted…wow, a whole half a nanosecond already.

Time to get serious, Bart, he thought, setting his jaw in his best Batman impression. Wally always laughed at him and said it wasn’t a very good impression, but what did he know about a proper Batman impression? He was friends with Nightwing, and yeah, Nightwing was super cool, and also Batman’s first protégé, but he was also a huge goofball who smiled all the time, almost as much as Wally himself did, so obviously he wasn’t very good at imitating Batman. So maybe Bart wasn’t that great either. Whatever. He was definitely better at it than Wally. Or Nightwing. So there.

Hey, speaking of Batman…

He’d put the invites addressed to Gotham on the top of the stack, because everybody knew that Batman had a strict “no metas in Gotham” policy, and Bart knew exactly what that meant.

It meant he was gonna have to be extra super fast and extra super stealthy, and he probably couldn’t afford any snack breaks.

Which sucked, because Linda had gone to Gotham for some report a couple weeks ago and she’d told him all about this pizza place she went to there that would let you combine absolutely any ingredients you wanted and they even had frog legs. Which sounded a little weird, to be honest, but obviously that just meant he would have to try it. For science! Except he couldn’t because it was in Gotham and Batman had that silly rule about metas.

Maybe he could kind of sneak his way in? Ooh, if he went with Linda and pretended to be, like, her intern or something and was really, really careful never to use his speed, maybe Batman would never know?

Except it was Batman, and Wally said that it was usually safest to just assume that Batman knew everything.

Maybe…

No. That wasn’t important now! Time to get serious. This was a serious mission. He was a serious superhero. Everything was very serious.

And besides, he’d already wasted another whole picosecond!

With a very serious and very Batman-like scowl, Bart set off for Gotham at top speed.

It was suitably dark and gritty and yeah, okay, there were kind of a lot of gargoyles, but honestly? He wasn’t that impressed. He’d been here a whole second and delivered three invitations already, and he hadn’t seen even one clown-themed criminal, or any murderous plants either. Not even an exploding umbrella!

Huh. Kind of a rip-off. Maybe Batman really was the scariest thing in this town.

*

The proximity alarms screamed a shrill alert. Level 5. That would mean someone was already inside the Batcave.

Alfred, just stepping off the lift with a tea tray, blinked. Bruce didn’t.

Neither of them saw anything.

The alarm abruptly died away. Alfred blinked again, and glanced down at his tray. The plate of freshly baked cookies was empty, but in their place was a slightly wrinkled envelope.

Ah.

“Delivery for you, Master Bruce.”

*

Bart, already on his way out of Bludhaven, licked the last traces of chocolate from his lips. Alfred made the best cookies. Probably that was the real reason Batman didn’t want other supers in Gotham. Bart could respect that. He wouldn’t want to share those cookies, either.

*

Len Snart wasn’t a man who held many things sacred in life. In fact there was pretty much only one thing he did, and that was late night Sunday dinner with the wife. Janice cooked the best chicken-fried steak in the whole Midwest, and it tasted just as good at 2:00 a.m. as it did at 7:00 p.m.

So he wasn’t feeling too inclined to be forgiving when a gust of wind blew through his dining room, tipping over Janice’s third favorite vase and apparently causing half the mashed potatoes to disappear into the bargain.

He stood with a growl and reached for his cold gun, even though the damn speedster was definitely long gone by now. But Janice’s glare had him holstering the weapon almost before it was drawn.

Right. No weapons at the table. He kept forgetting.

“Sit down, Len,” she snapped. “Can’t we just have a nice dinner for once in our lives?”

Len sat, though not without some grumbling. She was blaming him for that? Really? Damn entitled speedsters.

“That’s quite enough of that,” said Janice, dividing the remaining potatoes between them without any apparent annoyance, or at least, none that wasn’t directed at him. “He’s a growing boy. He needs his vegetables.”

Len stared at her. It took him a little longer than he’d have liked to admit, but he eventually realized she must be right. Flash was a pain in his ass for sure, but the man did have some understanding of boundaries. Impulse, though. That kid thought he could go anywhere he damn well pleased.

Seemed he was pretty well right about that, too, which did nothing to improve Len’s mood.

“Anyway, I think we should go,” Janice was saying.

Len glanced up from his steak. “Go?”

“To the wedding,” said Janice, in the tone of someone who possessed a vast reserve of patience which was, nevertheless, nearly exhausted. “Honestly, Len.”

She waved an invitation in his face, and he snatched it from her with a growl.

It was addressed to Len and Janice Snart, which he had to admit was a nice touch – he’d never gotten a formal invitation that wasn’t addressed to “Leonard,” and he hated that.

Of course, the little face with the tongue sticking out drawn next to his name wasn’t so nice, but that was clearly Impulse’s doing.

So Flash was getting married, huh? That could be a rare opportunity. He could –

“It’s very nice of them to invite us,” said Janice. Her tone made it clear that he would certainly find it nice, if he knew what was good for him. “Don’t you think, dear?”

“Very nice,” said Len, dreams of the perfect heist disappearing like a Flash.

*

Max Mercury caught the invite before it had even begun to flutter toward the table. “Bart!” he called in the direction of the red and white blur exiting his kitchen. “Remember we have a run tomorrow!”

“I know,” a laughing voice called back, and then the blur was gone.

*

“Hey Bart!”

“Hi Jesse! Bye Jesse!”

*

There was the slightest hint of vibration in the air, and then the entire complex array of mirrors collapsed. Sam Scudder blinked. He blinked again. He blinked a third time for good measure.

“Damn it, Flash!”

There was no answer except the faint echo of a rather childish laugh – so not Flash, then, but even worse – and then a somewhat battered envelope fluttered to the floor.

*

John Stewart wasn’t home, which made what Bart was about to attempt even more dangerous. Wally had told him about John’s landlady. Bart was pretty sure that Wally exaggerated sometimes just to mess with him, but he wasn’t taking any chances with this one. That broom of hers sounded way worse than anything Batman could throw at him.

So this mission called for stealth and extreme cunning. Maybe even theme music.

Humming Mission Impossible to himself at superspeed (he’d watched the original with Linda, and then made Wally and Linda both sit through all of the sequels and remakes), Bart vibrated through John’s wall.

There was a dull crash and he looked down to find a US Marine Corps poster in a splintered wooden frame on the floor.

“Oops.”

Had to work on that vibrating trick. He was not gonna tell Max about this.

“Who’s there?” a furious voice called down the hall. Nope. Now was not the time to worry about John’s posters.

Bart dropped the invite on top of the downed frame and booked it out of there.

*

Somebody had triggered the pudding canon security system. James could tell, because the level of pudding in the canon was pretty significantly down from full, and he’d just refilled it three hours ago.

He hadn’t seen anybody, though, and there also wasn’t delicious chocolatey goodness all over his walls or even any on the floor. Which meant his visitor was a speedster. They were the only people fast enough to devour his nefarious projectiles before impact. James was a little jealous.

Flasher would have said hi if it was him, though. James was sure of that. Last time the guy dropped by, he even brought a new dartboard!

So it was probably Impulse. James frowned a little to himself. It was too bad the kid hadn’t stuck around, really. He needed someone to test his new meringue-atang on.

He didn’t spot the invitation until he’d already sat on it, and he only found it after that because the whoopee cushion it was resting under was really impressively loud.

James grinned to himself. That Impulse kid had a lot of potential.

*

Wally was still standing there in the living room, in almost exactly the same place Bart had left him two whole minutes ago. Man, sometimes grownups were weird.

“All done!” Bart chirped. “Feel free to leave Impulse Express Deliveries a generous tip if you’re satisfied with our services!”

A loud, resigned sigh escaped Wally, but Bart noticed he was smiling a little, too. “Here’s a tip for you, kid: next time, ask before you take off.”

Bart scoffed. “Yeah, sure, whatever, next time you go and get married I definitely will.” There was a little laugh from Wally at that. He was kind of a huge sap, really, and Bart knew there wasn’t going to be a next time. “Anyway, you should be congratulating me.”

“Yeah?” asked Wally. “And why’s that?”

“Because I totally broke your record!” Bart crowed gleefully. “In and out of Gotham in three seconds flat! And that includes a trip to the Batcave.”

It looked like Wally actually needed a picosecond to process that. Ha! Take that, Mr. Fastest Man Alive!

Then Wally’s smile turned sly. “You got proof of that, kiddo?”

Bart gasped in outrage. “Delivered your invitations, didn’t I?”

“Sure, sure. Got them all done in two minutes, too, which is pretty impressive.” In spite of himself, Bart beamed at this, but it quickly turned to a scowl when Wally snickered and added, “Doesn’t prove you did Gotham in three seconds, though.”

“Oh yeah?” Bart huffed. “Well, you got any proof that you actually raced the Black Flash to the heat death of the universe?”

Wally looked offended. “Yes. I do. Got Linda back, didn’t I?”

“Sure, sure,” Bart mocked. “Doesn’t prove you actually went to the end of the universe, though.”

For a second Wally almost looked mad, then he burst out laughing. “Okay, okay. You beat my record. You want a medal?”

“Nah,” said Bart, feeling rather magnanimous. “I’ll settle for beating your butt at Mario Kart tomorrow. Oh, and you have to tell Max. You have to tell him how bad I smashed your record.”

“Sure, I’ll tell him. Tomorrow. After I pick you up from your training session.”

“Aw, man.”

“Sorry, kid,” said Wally, ruffling his hair faster than Bart could duck out of his reach. He laughed again at Bart’s scowl. “But, hey, I’ll make you a deal. After I tell Max, we can come back here and Linda can beat both of our butts at Mario Kart.”

“I guess,” muttered Bart. “So…you do believe that I did Gotham in three seconds, right?”

He knew he sounded a little more hopeful and a lot more needy than he ever wanted to admit to, so it was actually pretty decent of Wally that he just grinned and said, “Yeah, I believe you,” and left it at that.

“Well, that’s good,” said Bart, reaching into his pocket. “‘cause if you didn’t, there’s no way I’d give you this.”

The cookie was a little squashed looking, and the chocolate chips were all melty from his speed, but hey, that just made them taste even better, right?

Wally must have agreed, because he lit up like Andy’s Frozen Custard had just announced free all-you-can-eat ice cream for speedsters. “Is that one of Alfred’s cookies?”

“Saved it for you,” said Bart, handing it over and watching it disappear in short order. “Because I’m such a good cousin.”

“You’re the best, Bart,” said Wally, licking chocolate from his fingers.

Bart shrugged modestly. “I know,” he said.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Eyestealer 3 - ao3 link

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama (mostly gen, hints of other relationships later)

Summary: Hashirama really doesn’t approve of the thoughtful way his father looks at his younger brother’s bright red eyes. He’s sure it doesn’t mean anything good for anyone.

He’s right.

A/N: a quick (but sadly short) update for @blackberreh-art, who needs something to read on the flight

——————————————————————————————

The one ability of Tobirama that their father seems to actually respect is the strength of his sensor abilities.

"No Uchiha could have reached that far," Butsuma says begrudgingly when Tobirama reports comings and goings from the edge of his extremely impressive range.

It may be the nicest thing he's ever said to Tobirama, who is all but walking on air for the next week, even if no one who isn’t Hashirama or Kawarama or little Itama would be able to tell. He doubles down on training that ability thereafter, broadening his range even further and increasing his precision to focus on additional details.

He gets very, very good at it, too. Hashirama has found that when Tobirama puts his mind to something, really puts his mind to something, there's very little he can't do.

(This is, sometimes, a problem - Tobirama is extremely creative, smart and unorthodox, but unfortunately he, like their father, is a brilliant tactician. Fantastic for battle, absolutely fantastic; wonderful in the short term and, at least for Tobirama, sometimes in the medium term, but when it comes to thinking long term...ugh.

Seriously, sometimes Hashirama wishes he wasn't born as good a strategist as he is because he's pretty sure he's going to be driven up the wall by the fact that he can so clearly see future consequences that no one else ever seems to think about. At least Tobirama is learning, even if he still hasn't quite figured out that just because you can invent something doesn't always mean you should.)

Still, as much as Tobirama wants to make their father proud, as much as he loves him, he hasn’t lost his reason or his sense of caution. He tells his father anything that might be helpful, practical useful things, but Hashirama is the only one who knows the true extent of his sensing: how sensitive he is to the nuances of others' chakra, how he can all but replicate exact details even from a distance, how much it hurts sometimes -

How he's always sensing, always, whether he's asleep or drained of chakra.

Even though he's grown up well past the usual dangerous age, Tobirama's chakra still has a way of draining far too fast sometimes, no matter how little he's doing. Recently they discovered, through some impromptu games of hide and seek with little Itama, a happy soul, that it helped a little if he kept his eyes closed. Ever since then, Tobirama has spends increasingly more of his time in his private quarters wearing a blindfold, purportedly as a means of further training his situational awareness - not that he needs it, given that he learns to move around fluidly without his sight within the course of a few weeks.

Outside the home, where walking around with a blindfold would be more embarrassing and require more explanation, he takes to adding a happuri to his armor so that he can draw it down over his eyes whenever he has a moment to rest.

Things are going well.

Hashirama starts to feel happy: Tobirama's sensor abilities are a blessing, something he can be cheered for throughout the clan. Finally, he thinks, there was something that Tobirama could do that would bring him only joy.

(He should have known better than to tempt fate.)

It happens in public, at a formal clan dinner with all the elders and their father sitting there, and no one knows that Tobirama's senses are still working but Hashirama.

But because Hashirama is the only one who knows, he's the only one who has even the slightest idea what's happening when Tobirama suddenly drops his bowl, his expression twisting in horror, and throws himself out the window without a word a second later.

"Please excuse us," Hashirama says on his behalf to the outraged elders and their father, then follows him out before they have a chance to respond.

He doesn't know exactly what it was that Tobirama sensed that so overwhelmed him, but that expression means it's nothing good.

There are very few things Tobirama cares about that would make him willing to so breach the rules of etiquette so thoroughly beaten into him -

- and Kawarama is out of the compound on a courier mission.

Hashirama's already resigned by the time they're out in the forest, running faster than thought but still not fast enough, but Tobirama shrieks as though he was the one who was stabbed, his too-powerful senses showing him all the details he would never be able to excise from his too-perfect memory, staggering and beginning to fall even as he reaches the clearing that should have been safety, having exhausted himself in speed and left nothing for fighting.

Hashirama is just moments behind him, though, and he reaches out with the forest to try to strangle his brother's killers.

He gets two of the squad, mangling their bodies beyond recognition without the slightest ounce of pity, leaving them only identifiable as Uchiha by the scraps of fabic that flutter to the ground, but three others manage to evade him, disappearing in a flurry of leaves and shadow.

When he turns back, Tobirama is on his knees, sobbing and tugging futilely at the swords and kunai that pierce Kawarama's body. "I should've been faster," he says, voice broken. "I should have kept better watch - I should have been faster, I could've helped if I'd only been faster - Hashirama, help me! I don’t have the chakra reserves to heal him!"

Hashirama comes to stand by his shoulder. His heart hurts, seeing his brother's body like this, but not the way Tobirama's does. Tobirama was the one who raiased Kawarama, raised Itama, not Hashirama; Hashirama loves them dearly, but they're his brothers - to Tobirama, they might as well be his sons.

(And if some part of Hashirama bitterly remembers that Kawarama is their father's favorite, neither his disobedient eldest nor his despised second, and thinks of how despite Hashirama’s best efforts he had begun to absorb some of Butsuma’s more pernicious beliefs, repeating vile things about Tobirama when the other was absent even though it was Tobirama who loved him more than anything - well. That part of him doesn't need to see the surface.)

So it hurts and he grieves, but he also knows that it’s not as bad a blow as it could have been - not as bad a blow as it is to Tobirama.

"We'll take him back for a burial," Hashirama says, because there's nothing before them but a corpse.

Tobirama moans in despair, horrible grief making his voice grate terribly, like the sound of splintering wood, and then suddenly his hands fly up to his face, his chakra levels suddenly draining at an alarming rate.

"Tobirama!" Hashirama exclaims, moving forward at once. "What - a trap? Tell me what hurts!"

He continued his lessons as a healer long after the medic taught him those few techniques and insisted that Tobirama learn, too, counting on his brother's genius mind to start coming up with new combinations almost at once, which he had. They were both very good at it now.

"My eyes," Tobirama moans. "Something's wrong with my eyes."

Hashirama's scanning frantically, looking for the damage, but nothing's coming up as wrong. As far as Tobirama's body is concerned, it's working as designed.

Except Tobirama's chakra is still draining away like he somehow sprung a leak, which means there must be a wound - a trap - a seal - something - but where could it be? With enough expertise, a trap seal could be drawn on any surface, solid or liquid: on skin, hair, tongue, eyes –

Eyes.

"Hold still," he tells Tobirama, more or less futilely because Tobirama is barely even twitching anymore. "I'm going to pop out your lenses."

He hasn't seen Tobirama without his lenses in years, nothing but the brief glimpses when he helped him in the mornings, but he still remembers what they look like under there - what they should look like, that is.

And the second the lenses are off, there it is, whatever it is that's hurting his brother: the black flecks in Tobirama's eyes have changed, turning instead into a pinwheel made of little black waves.

(It's almost like the Uchiha symbols he's seen scribbled on old scrolls, but that makes sense, doesn't it, that the Uchiha would leave an Uchiha trap on a freshly-killed corpse, meant to catch the unwary.)

"Tobirama, I think I've figured it out where the trap is - Tobirama - no, don't pass out - Tobirama! Stay with me...!"

Hashirama doesn't want to leave Kawarama's body behind, but he would do it in a heartbeat if he thought the medics back home would be of any help. He would throw himself on the nonexistent mercy of the Uchiha themselves if that's what it took to save Tobirama’s life, but he knows that they won’t help either.

It’s up to him.

He sits there all night, between the corpse of one brother and the comatose body of another, ignoring everything he’s ever learned about healing in favor of brute-forcing as much of his chakra into Tobirama as either of them can tolerate and a little beyond, and he thinks he might go a little insane in the process.

(Sometimes Tobirama's eyes look as if they themselves have drained of all color, an almost pale lavender with rippling concentric rings around the pupil, but Hashirama manages to convince himself it's a trick of the light and with an concerted effort it goes back to the more familiar red.)

Morning comes.

Tobirama opens his eyes.

They’ve gone back to the normal red-and-black-flecks, Hashirama is relieved to see, and his chakra appears to have stabilized.

“Anija,” Tobirama croaks, his voice cracking. “Tell me –”

But he falls silent.

Hashirama knows what he wants to ask, knows why Tobirama didn’t ask it, and curses yet again his brother’s memory.

He wishes, more than anything, that he could tell him that it had only been a dream.

“Let’s go home,” he says instead. “Get on my back.”

Tobirama’s eyes flicker and change – pinwheels again, and his chakra swells as though he were using some sort of powerful jutsu – but then they return to normal as he forces himself to calm, willpower overcoming his emotions as it has had to do far too many times before.

Looks like whatever the Uchiha did to him, it's not going away anytime soon.

Fine, whatever. It doesn't matter. Hashirama will find a way to make sure Tobirama survives whatever this is - survives and thrives. He will.

He won't let him down again.

“I remember them,” Tobirama says quietly, interrupting Hashirama's thoughts.

“Them?”

“The three you missed. I know what they look like. The next time we go up against the Uchiha, I’ll kill them.”

Hashirama knows Tobirama means it, too; he’s killed before already. If anything, he’s killed more often than Hashirama has, for all that Hashirama’s power is the more deadly – Tobirama knows how much Hashirama hates to strike the finishing blow, so he does it for him when he can, Hashirama finding often enough the shinobi he’s grabbed in the roots of the Mokuton have their throats slit or their lungs filled up with water before he’s forced to crush them.

“Well,” he says, shrugging. “That should make Butsuma happy, at least.”

(It doesn’t save Tobirama from being punished when he gets home, though, and Hashirama’s fists clench so tightly that his palms begin to bleed.)

[lokikingofasgardslover713]

Savage Spite: 1

Masterlist

Ch. 2    Ch.3  

Warnings: None yet, cursing if it counts, Loki being a ass.

A/N: Written in three parts! Ended up longer than I thought! This was a request from @moonfaery. This is the original prompt & I hope I did it justice. Loki really makes a mess & it seems it will take longer for him to right the mistake than originally thought! So enjoy! Reader is a young celestial that is younger than Loki and whose powers have yet to know just how strong she is but the reader is stronger than Loki she just hasn't realized it yet. Morgan Stark is Tony’ daughter, she and the reader were raised together by grandparents.

Words: 3,400

The gentle rustle of a cell phone vibrating had Loki rolling over to realize that Y/N had left the device on the edge of the bed while she got a shower, citing she needed to meet with Morgan, Tony Stark’s daughter about a new design for a suit. It normally didn’t bother him but here lately the goddess had spent more time with the Stark & his brother. Well truth told it was mostly Thor which was beginning to eat at the god of mischief. Looking over to note the message flashed for a second with a few words of a text.

Thor: My sweet dove, I want you to know how much I love you.

It made Loki’s heart drop, never had the younger god thought or never had Y/N his lover, betrothed would betray him like this, not with Thor. Lithe hand reaching for the phone to easily unlock it both knew the codes to the others phone, quickly he opened the message & began to read more.

Scrolling through the thread, noting Y/N’ response in the goddesses distinct slang that was Midgardian, having been raised & adopted by mortals of the realm 36 years ago. She was confessing an unrequited love to Thor followed by addresses to known hotels & the like. Scheduled meetings as well before locking it back as he heard Y/N coming out of the bathroom &t putting it in its spot. Turning to watching the thick framed woman he had fallen for step out & sitting up as she stepped to the night stand to pick up the ring he had just given her not long after Halloween.

“Morning love,” Loki began as if asleep, testing the waters as he reached out to wrap bear arms around cold plump middle to nuzzle at the goddesses soft belly worriedly as the phone vibrated again, the go holding tight as she called it to her hand with blue seidr, free hand combing through messy raven locks as she scanned the messages.

“Morning Loki,” she hummed sleepily herself.

“Who is it,” he asked innocently, curious what her lie would be, wanting to tear into her then & there for betraying his trust, his love a thing he refused to give easily.

“Morgan & your pesky brother,” Y/N admitted locking it back to cram it into her pocket, wrapping cold arms around his bare shoulders & placing a kiss to his head, the god unable to detect the lie.

“I’ll be back by 6. You still wanting to go walk the park,” Y/N ventured, filling tension in the gods shoulders as the phone buzzed but this time it was a call.

“Aren’t you going to answer that,” he spoke into soft tummy filling her chuckle, muttering something about Morgan being impatient.

“So, park at 6? Meet me at the compound & we will take our walk & go get something to eat so I don’t have to cook,” Y/N bribed filling him let out a sigh, lithe body tensing slightly more as she carded through his hair.

“How about a quiet night at home yeah,” Loki countered quickly, “order in?”

“Then meet me at the compound to drive me home, I love it when you chauffeur me, around 5 then,” Y/N bargained as she paused her carding curious to the gods response as tension faded but picked back up.

“Sure love,” he finally lamented as cool nose nuzzled at the young celestials belly.

The phone vibrating with a text once again, surprised Y/N continued to hold to him, puzzling over why he was holding to her so tightly.

“I gotta go baby,” Y/N cooed to the god that continued to hold tight squeezing plump midriff before letting her go, looking over curvaceous body when she stepped back, nothing the ripped skinny jeans & long sleeve shirt to blend in with the weather though she didn’t need it, emerald eyes raking over the boots to realize he was showing just how much he enjoyed the view.

“I’ll take of that tonight,” Y/N smiled as she took a step forward to place a kiss on his lips but stepping back quickly before he could catch her.

“Love you,” she shouted as she hurried out of the house, keys jingling as she grabbed them from the table at the door & hurried out to her Jeep.

It still didn’t sit right, Loki standing to clothe himself with a thought, standing at the door to the house the two shared away from the city to note Y/N was already talking to someone via hands free dawning on the god she had taken up with Thor over the last few months & recalling it was known the older brother was dating Stark’s daughter Morgan, HIS Y/N’ best friend or trying to at least. The idea of Y/N deceiving him sent dull splinters under his skin, making him itch with jealousy as he decided today he would be making an appearance at the compound unannounced.

The god could cloak himself, shadow Y/N, but she would know immediately. The young goddess, a celestial, the daughter of the oldest creature of the universe, born with seidr more powerful than his own, Y/N having barely touched it's potential as well as gave her a cold body temperature perhaps colder than his own. He would have to do it the old way, deciding if it was true he would make sure Morgan knew & make the two pay.

“No Thor look you’re wording it wrong & that last address you gave me, I don’t think it will work,” Y/N began plopping next to the burly god in the common room leaning hard into his scorching side so Sam or the others wouldn’t over hear the surprise they planned for Morgan.

It was brainchild of Thor to take her on a quiet vacation in the Montana wilderness, the daughter of Stark, tech savvy but all too happy to take a quiet vacation to a cabin to get away & especially with Thor the two having dated for a little over two years. The god feeling, he could only trust Y/N with the advice he craved, especially since the two had been raised together when the young Stark’s grandparents adopted Y/N as well as Morgan. The goddess as everyone took to calling her since true parentage was unknown the only one that was willing to help pulling up a cabin she had found.

“I hope Loki doesn’t find your damn lover letters that you want me to go over,” Y/N commented handing the phone over for Thor to look over the cabin.

The god looking at the simple engagement ring Loki had given Y/N, the winding silver band shining as if new though it was centuries old, the goddess refusing to take it off for any mission since his brother had put it on, the emerald the size of a pencil eraser, sparkling as if alive & knowing Loki it probably was.

“I don’t think he would think you would cheat on him or leave him Y/N. This cabin is nice, can you arrange it for me,” Thor asked handing the phone back to watch Y/N clicking to reserve it.

“What name,” she asked the god getting ready to type in the information.

“Oh, Drake,” he smiled at Y/N throwing an arm over the back of the couch to watch her intently swearing she was the little sister he never had, “thank you again.”

“It’s no problem. You manage to find the reservations for the restaurant I sent over? She really likes to eat there,” Y/N began, phone buzzing with a text from Morgan herself asking about dinner reservations for the 4 of them for a small Christmas dinner & Y/N telling her it was a go.

“You owe me by the way. So, lunch,” Y/N smiled at the god that chuckled at the brave warrior that got to her feet waiting on Thor to join her.

“Sure, sister in law,” Thor laughed holding out his arm so he could escort the goddess down to the parking garage, the woman smirking at his use of Midgardian slang.

It wasn’t out of place for Loki to walk the compound looking for Y/N, mostly everyone stayed out of his way or did speak with him, but today he had his mind clouded with thoughts of Y/N, his Y/N speaking with Thor & the text he read. Not to mention having found several other things by looking over her laptop out of paranoia, finding the bank account Stark sat up for Y/N & noted money transfers from Thor the money going to a hotel or rental company.

He had hoped she wasn’t that stupid to leave it all out, well actually not in the open because he never messed with any of her things & gave her privacy, but the text ignited something in the god that made him scowl instantly as he looked up to see Y/N hanging on Thor’s arm laughing at the oaf. Quickly Loki took a quick turn to step down a side corridor to allow them to pass.

How could she do this so openly & he never noticed? A pling from his pocket alerting him to a withdrawal from the account & a deposit as well to a cabin rental in Montana.

That was it, the god lost his reasoning, a quick press of the screen had the deposit & transfer denied as he stalked off down the hall way with one thought in his mind.

“Good evening Morgan,” came a smooth voice as the god of mischief stepped into the tech room of the compound.

“Hey Loki! Where is Y/N? She said you two had plans to go have a day to yourselves,” the dark headed woman began the fire in Loki growing almost out of control, pushing it down, once a well thought out plan turning to one of instant gratification.

“I believe they changed. Have you seen my brother,” Loki began almost cold making the woman look away from the tablet she was working on.

“Umm… he said he had to prepare for a mission. What’s wrong,” Morgan finally picked up on Loki’s attitude, he had to hand it to her, the mortal was very perceptive but wondered how both could be so blind to the fact they were being treated like shit by their betrothed's, knowing Thor had been planning on asking Morgan to marry him.

“I believe we are both being betrayed by those we love as we speak,” Loki spoke hotly stepping forward to take a seat to explain it all.

Thor looked over at Y/N who was furrowing her brow at her phone, witnessing the frustration brewing behind Y/E/C eyes as she looked up at the god & back to the phone.

“What’s wrong,” the god asked as the waitress sat their drinks in front of them.

“The cabin rental was denied because payment was stopped & now it is telling me it went to the next in line. I can’t access my bank account,” Y/N spoke worriedly looking up at Thor who was upset himself.

“Well, we can figure something else out. I’m sure there are others… but why is your account froze,” he questioned, feeling it get cooler in the room, knowing it was Y/N’ frustration manifesting.

“I don’t know, I’ve never had that happen. F.R.I.D.A.Y can tell me, I will send a text to see what she can find,” Y/N commented trying to keep nerves calm, looking at Thor just as his phone buzzed, the god frowning himself to show the goddess it was the jewelry store where they were to go next.

“They said a man came & picked up mother’s ring,” Thor worried as he was growing frustrated himself.

“Loki? He would be the only other right,” Y/N began, the younger god was the only one who knew about the ring being sized, a gold ruby ring belonging to their mother just like the emerald one she wore, both had been in a soft animal skin pouch that Loki had taken & stashed when they had to allow Surtur to destroy Asgard.

“They didn’t say. Why would he…,” Thor began Y/N’ phone buzzing signaling F.R.I.D.A.Y had gotten back to her.

F.R.I.D.A.Y: The bank claims it was frozen by your husband. I removed the hold but if you make a purchase again he has the ability to freeze it once more.

Y/N took a deep breath, what the hell had just gotten into the god?

“Y/N,” Thor asked gently knowing it took a lot to get the goddess upset Y/E/C orbs looking up at him rimmed with tears.

“Can you pay? Um… we need to go. Loki has put a tracker on the account & I ... I can’t ..,” Y/N spoke quietly anger rising in her chest that Loki was all of the sudden showing this side of him, swallowing the lump, preparing to completely lose her composure whole Thor looked her over worriedly as the temperature around them drop more, a blue shimmer to her eyes.

“I’ve got it. Calm down Y/N,” Thor spoke quietly pulling out his wallet to place more than enough cash to pay, getting up to walk out with Y/N, the goddess handing him the keys stating she couldn’t focus enough at the moment.

“He knows correct? I told him that you are helping me with Morgan as did you,” Thor began as they headed back to the compound.

“He does. I swear he does. I made a point to explain what I was doing by helping you surprise Morgan with the ring & ... you honestly think he would believe...,” Y/N’ voice cracked not looking away from the road the god maneuvered the vehicle down, knowing if she looked at him the dam would break because the engagement was ruined due to Loki.

He did, Loki thought the worst & played the nastiest out of the bunch. Morgan was fit to be tied pulling surveillance & the like of the two supposedly cheating when in fact they were planning the perfect time for Thor to ask Morgan to marry him ,unlike Y/N & Loki in the middle of a battlefield. The two-sitting foot into the silent compound making their way to the Avengers floor & into Thor’s room Y/N fuming until the lights clicked on to reveal Loki & Morgan.

“Well nice of you two cheats to join us,” Loki spoke eerily calm watching anger & seidr flash in Y/N eyes.

“Loki... I need a private word with you, this isn’t what you two believe,” Y/N began calmly trying to salvage the situation.

“Oh, I believe it has been kept private long enough pet. Or should I call you dove,” Loki snipped looking at Thor who was losing his own calm.

“Morgan,” Thor began but the woman would have nothing of it shoving past Thor in an attempt to leave the three but Y/N quick to go after Morgan using seidr to hold the door& lock them in.

“LOKI! WORD! NOW,” Y/N snarled blue mist wrapping the god to bring him to her & wrap them in a battle of silence only they could hear.

“I never took you for a whore Y/N,” was the first words to be spat out of Loki’ mouth as he stepped so he towered over her, knowing how much she loathed for anyone to try to dominate her.

“Whore? What the fuck Loki! I was helping Thor to surprise…,” she attempted to finish explaining the engagement, but Loki was in very rare form as he seethed with green seidr.

“Oh, I bet you where! I thought I could trust you,” he snarled, making Y/N try to take a step away but he barred down on the goddess more as if trying to provoke her.

“You can,” the goddess shouted back hatefully the air around them becoming colder.

“No, it’s obvious I can’t the way you fawn over him! I should have known you wouldn’t have stayed satisfied with me for too long,” he growled out at her, his hands reaching out as if to grab her to hold her close but stopping.

“Loki I love...”

“No, you don’t. If you did...,” he spat with venom making Y/N heart drop to her feet, a tear falling from her eye as fury seized her.

“LOKI SHUT UP & LET ME FUCKING EXPLAIN,” Y/N lashed out temper getting to the young goddess for cold blue strings to sow the gods lips closed.

“I was helping Thor surprise Morgan with a trip out to Montana. I was helping him with the arrangements, I volunteered to pay out of our account since it never went noticed how much we spend on certain activities & Thor was writing it off as business thanks to some clever work from F.R.I.D.A.Y! He was planning on taking her to Montana on a quiet getaway to propose instead of on a dank battlefield like you! I told you what I was doing Loki! You told me you trusted me! And you know I share no interest in Thor & would never hurt Morgan because she is like a sister to me! You should have just come to me & asked instead of this,” Y/N spouted, rage finally ebbing to call it back stepping up to Loki with her hand out & his lips free to speak.

“Where is the ring,” the goddess sighed, knowing Thor was going to have to salvage this somehow, the god pulling the box from his pocket to place in Y/N trembling hand as she took it straight to Thor & looked at Morgan.

“We were planning a surprise for you,” the blonde began as he turned with ring in hand, “I wanted to take you to a cabin in Montana & ask you to marry me.”

“Y/N... I’m sorry…,” Morgan began, tears beginning to flow from the young Stark’ chocolate brown eyes, taking a step towards her best fried who waved her off & masked her own tears with seidr.

“It’s OK,” Y/N smiled at the brunet, picking at her own hands, turning the silver band to delicately pull it free to rest in the palm of shaking hand before handing it to Thor.

“Make sure Loki gets that. I don’t want him to be obligated to marry someone that he fills he shouldn’t trust,” Y/N croaked quietly taking strides to step out of the room & down the corridor.

“Y/N,” Loki began starting after her, his brothers heavy hand falling on his shoulder to stop him.

“Give her a few minutes to calm Loki,” Thor warned, Loki taking the ring hatefully out of his brother’s hand to go after the goddess.

“No. I need to speak with her,” the god began rushing after her with Thor on his heels.

Loki didn’t think twice as he ran up behind Y/N grabbing strong biceps to pull her back flush to his front making her body go ridged against him.

“I can fix this love,” he began nuzzling at soft lose locks as he released one arm to place his hand palm up in front of her to present the ring back to her.

“I am your god still Y/N,” Loki murmured into her ear the goddess looking straight ahead, ignoring the asshole behind her.

“Thor,” Y/N began getting the older brothers attention who stepped in her peripheral.

“Do you hear something,” the celestial spoke calmly knowing Loki felt her growing colder.

“It sounds like an asshole trying to apologize for jumping to conclusions,” the blond spoke up smirking at Loki who scowled at him but stayed focused on Y/N.

“Thought so. Morgan OK,” Y/N spoke ignoring the god that was trying to keep his own cool so to say.

“She is waiting to speak with me, but she understands,” Thor reassured the goddess who nodded in understanding.

“Good. Tell her I’m sorry for all the panic. I think I’m going to take the rest of the day off,” she spoke quietly.

Steady hand pushing Loki’ hand out of the way, leaving the two gods in the hall & stepping on the elevator to the parking garage. Yeah she could technically think about being home & would be there in an instant, but she needed time to think. The drive home would do that & give her time to make a decision that was making heart thud & hard to breath.

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