#Like one who's awkward around children holding a toddler far away from them.

[hyaciiintho]

*hands Sherlock a pokemon to be his fren*

"What is this animal--?" Needless to say... he's BEWILDERED.

[gaycrouton]

34

She was older than her big sister.

1.8k | angst | season five | ao3 | i promise i’m going to finish my wips, this has just been in my drafts for half a year | happy 59th b-day dana katherine

When the Scully children were very little and their dad was trying his hardest to climb the ladder at work, their family often had to scrape by on next-to-nothing to survive. Military benefits could only go so far, so Maggie Scully had to get creative to make things work. One of her favorite examples of this that she would tell years later, was the Christmas they couldn't afford to get Melissa the auburn-haired Chatty Cathy doll she'd asked Santa for, but a few months later, Maggie gave her a red-headed baby sister instead.

According to the stories their extended family always re-told during the holidays, Melissa liked to act as if Dana was her baby instead of Maggie's. Anytime Dana cried or needed to be fed, Melissa would rush over and try to help. As a toddler, she couldn't do much, but Melissa would see to it that her sister was taken care of.

Dana didn't remember this time in her life, but she saw the photo albums that had page upon page of her as an infant attached to Melissa's side. Her favorite was one of Missy pushing her around in the very same stroller she'd been in only two years prior, peeking her face around the bassinet to check on the infant with a gummy smile.

One of Dana's earliest memories involved the waxy smell of cheap lipstick and the sensation of Melissa tugging an eyeshadow applicator across her eyelids. She remembered how the cool porcelain of the sink felt against the bottoms of her feet and the sound of Melissa mumbling her way through the lyrics of American Pie. She could never remember what she looked like after the makeover— she could only recall the expression of pride on Melissa's face in the reflection of the mirror.

Melissa was the model of everything Scully wanted to be; the promise of what the future had to offer represented through her older sister. Everything Missy did, Dana wanted to replicate. While Melissa was outgoing and funny, Dana felt shy and awkward, her sister's effortlessly charismatic, carefree nature always managed to leave Dana in awe.

For years when she was still very young, whenever Missy was gone and Dana was left alone in their shared room, she had a routine. She'd carefully go over to the door and lock it, something her mother never wanted them to do, before going into the closet and pulling out Melissa's First Communion outfit. The dress sagged limply on her body and she had to hold the ends to keep them from dragging, but in those moments, Dana felt powerful. She felt like Melissa. With as much grace as a child could muster, she'd strut along the floor, trying to walk in the imaginary path her sister had laid before her. All the while, leaving little trails in the carpet from where she struggled to find her footing in her sister's pretty white shoes that were a few sizes too big.

When Melissa became a teen, Dana's rapt admiration for her turned from a compliment to a nuisance. Her desire to imitate the sister she adored now resulted in taunts of "copy cat, copy cat, copy cat!" She remembered vividly crying into her mother's arms because Missy didn't want Dana to hang around her and her friends. Barbies were swapped for Teen Beat, childhood innocence morphed into teen angst, and suddenly Melissa was kissing the boys she'd spent years beating up. After a while, Dana began playing with Charlie until it was his turn to wonder why his sister didn't want to play anymore.

While Missy rebelled against authority in her teen years, Dana rebelled against anything Missy did. When Melissa pushed her away, she fell outside the confines of her sister's shadow for the first time and was blinded by the possibilities of who she could be, and suddenly, she desired to be everything Melissa wasn't. She never talked back to her parents or teachers, she excelled in school and extracurriculars, and she tried her very best to be what she thought was expected of her.

But despite their differing approaches to the world, they were fundamentally similar. Their shared DNA made them opposite sides of the same coin, and even if she didn't always take her advice, Dana always knew she could turn to her sister when she needed her. When she drunkenly admitted that during winter break from her first semester of medical school, Melissa anointed herself with the position of being Dana's 'Guardian Angel.'

Although she rolled her eyes at the time, Scully sometimes felt it was true. Missy was the one who gave her advice on how she could break up with Daniel, she was the one who helped her tell her parents she was pursuing a career with the FBI, and Dana could feel her pulling her back to life after her abduction.

It seemed like it was always that way. She'd ask Melissa for life advice when trying to make a decision whereas Melissa sought Dana's opinion on something that she'd already done. Melissa spent all her time nurturing things to life: her plants, relationships, the kids she tended to over the years — it seemed everything she came in contact with bloomed because of her. Dana dissected the dead. She examined the past to better understand the present. Predicting the future wasn't her strong suit, and she'd never understand how Missy and Mom seemed to have this uncanny ability to sense things that were going to happen.

Melissa called it intuition, her mom called it 'motherly instinct', but Scully only had her gut to rely on. Melissa said it was her own fault for being skeptical, and that she 'wasn't listening to the signs'. Dana tried, she really did, but it was hard for her. It felt like no matter how much she wished to have their instinct, the pathologist in her needed to see things play out before making a conclusion.

She really wished she would have known Melissa's 33rd birthday would be her last.

"Do you know how great of a number thirty-three is, Dana?" she'd asked around a mouthful of chocolate ice cream they'd gotten from the corner store.

"No, but I have a feeling you're about to tell me," Dana deadpanned.

"You're correct," she teased. "Thirty-three is considered a master number. It's connected to the energies of compassion, blessings, divine inspiration, honesty, discipline, bravery and courage. Thirty-three is associated with the knowledge that 'all things are possible'. It also is a number of guidance, an angel number with high frequencies."

"Oh wow," Scully replied noncommittally, focusing on scraping the last bits of her Ben and Jerry's from the carton.

"According to Al-Ghazali the dwellers of Heaven will exist eternally in a state of being age 33," Melissa stated.

"It's also how old Jesus was when he died on the cross," Dana offered, taking a sip of wine.

"That makes sense. In numerology, 33 is all about new beginnings and divine intervention," Melissa explained, getting enthusiastic like Mulder did when he worked himself up.

"How many new beginnings will this make for you now?" Dana teased. "Seven? Not counting your excursion down the Pacific Coast?"

"On my resume, I refer to those as opportunities to expand my horizons and broaden my skillsets," Melissa countered, failing to hide her smile.

"Well then," Dana chuckled, grabbing her wine glass to salute her sister. "To new beginnings."

A few weeks later, Melissa was murdered in cold blood.

For once, she walked a path destined for Dana, and it killed her.

When Dana turned 33, she was prepared to follow her sister again, one last time. After being diagnosed with terminal cancer just a few weeks prior, she couldn't help but imagine what her tombstone would look like next to Melissa's, what someone would think when they did the math on the birth and death dates.

Copy cat, copy cat, copy cat.

Her mother said she couldn't handle purchasing headstones for both of her daughters in such a short timeframe, so Scully organized a lot of the details. "Loving sister and daughter" felt too simple, but when she picked up the phone to get Melissa's opinion…

Dana liked it better when her Guardian Angel could speak.

Sometimes Mulder said things that made her think of Melissa. He wasn't necessarily into the new age stuff she was, but even so, he occasionally gave her deja vu.

"Thirty-four is a great number, ya know?' he told her one day, unprompted. No keychain this year, but the thirty-four Snoballs sitting on their desk were still very thoughtful.

"Really?" she replied, picking up a set of the pink coconut balls and working the plastic wrap covering them.

"It's said 34 symbolizes new journeys and new, unexplored paths," he replied.

Flashes of her early birthday 'journey' to Maine came to her and she had to resist the urge to cringe. "Is this your way of telling me you have a case?" she asked before taking a bite of her Snoball.

"After last year, I figure you deserve to enjoy a birthday sans-governmental conspiracy," Mulder teased. Then, sombering in a way she wasn't used to, he said, "Besides, I'm… I'm really glad you made it to see 34, Scully."

Seeing as 33 was plagued with cancer scares, she knew exactly what he meant. "Me too."

It wasn't until later that night that she realized Melissa was still 33.

She was now older than her big sister. Every year from here on out, while she gained another candle on her birthday cake, Melissa would remain eternally 33.

After so many years of hearing the details of Melissa's exploits, she felt like she'd come to the end of Melissa's guidebook. The blueprint had run off the page and she wasn't done yet.

When Melissa gave her rides to school, she'd always given tips and tricks about how to drive, so that by the time Dana was behind a wheel, everyone called her a natural. The night after her 21st birthday, she didn't have a hangover like the rest of her friends did, because Melissa had given her advice on how to prevent it. Melissa was uninhibited in her exploration of the world, and equally as generous with sharing what she thought. Now Dana could only repay her by sharing stories about things Melissa would never experience to a slab of granite.

Melissa never knew the horrific way a mother's loss can sound like suffocation. How impossible it was to get that sound out of your head.

Melissa never knew how hard it was to write a eulogy for a sibling, or how hard it was to resist copying her one last time by climbing down the hole with her.

Melissa never knew what it was like to be 34.

[astheroid]

S/O is hit with an age-reversing quirk with Deku, Bakugou, and Todoroki

Word count: 1,178

⚠️ mentions of vomit/throwing up

Deku-

You had gone missing after *another* villain attack at UA

Everyone went out looking for you, only to find a baby with your clothes on it.

They brought baby you back to campus to get re-aged in private, but your boyfriend was panicking and soon caught wind of the returning search party.

“Oh my gosh, who’s baby is that?”

“...it’s Y/N, dude.”

*cue Izuku passing out*

He didn’t actually pass out, but he came pretty damn close to it.

After calming down a bit, he immediately started researching things about this unusual quirk (while also playing with you).

He learned the hard way that babies are very hard to take care of

He was frantically looking through every book in the library with you in his arms when you suddenly grabbed hold of his hair and yanked.

“Ow! Please don’t do that.”

You, in true gremlin fashion, pull more of his hair.

Even though his scalp hurt, his arms were sore, and he had drool on his shoulder, he didn’t trust anyone else with you

So you stayed in his arms, murmuring lightly as he pulled book after book out of the library shelves.

Eventually, he found what he was looking for and celebrated, swinging you around in the air.

Baby brain: swing=happy :D

(You threw up on him)

Still, he ran to the teachers with his solution and puke covering the front of his shirt, you clinging to him the entire way.

Once you were back to normal, he told you all about what baby you had done. Burying your head in your arms out of embarrassment, you made him promise not to tell anyone else.

Bakugou-

When you hadn’t showed up for school in the morning, he became worried and decided to skip class for an at-home visit

He was absolutely not expecting you to be waddling around your house as a toddler.

Even though he absolutely hates kids, he couldn’t just leave you there

So he begrudgingly called the hospital to fix you while holding you as far away from him as possible.

Good news: the hospital did have a cure to age-reversal (it seemed to happen quite often…). Bad news: the cure was waiting for it to wear off.

He was not happy about this

You were running all over the place, biting things and making messes

For the most part, he just kind of let you do your thing (such a responsible parent, I know).

That changed when you decided to use his arm as a chew toy

“WHAT THE FUCK. LET GO OF ME YOU DUMB BASTARD BABY!”

He shook you off, yelling obscenities and glaring at you.

You, being a child with no emotional control, started crying

It all went downhill from there.

He was extremely scared that he had hurt you, so he tried his hardest to comfort you

(he patted you on the head and distracted you with hand sparks)

Surprisingly, this worked. Despite never being good with kids, his hands were popular in the entertainment department.

He smiled softly as you stared at his sparking palms. “Do you like my quirk? Yeah, I bet you do.”

It was an rarely sweet moment

After that ordeal, you fell asleep and he stayed right by your side until you woke up.

While sleeping, the effects of the de-aging quirk wore off and you were fine again.

Trust me when I say he was extremely glad to have you back, even though he refused to show it.

“You normal now? Good, you were so annoying as a kid. I wanted to blast your stupid baby face off.”

Very sweet, Katsuki.

After you were well enough to speak, he made you explain what happened.

Turns out you had been hit by a fleeing villain during a freak hit-and-run

Your toddler self had managed to stumble 1/3 of a mile back home, where he found you

After hearing your story, he rolled his eyes and scoffed, scolding you for being such a dumbass.

Todoroki-

Hoo boy. He’s definitely one of the worst with kids.

It’s not like he doesn’t try, but… children hate him, and he has no clue how to communicate with them

Thus landing him in an awkward situation when he was tasked with dealing with you, as a part of his hero training.

You had volunteered as a test subject of sorts, allowing the UA staff to age you down (with the help of a citizen with a de-aging quirk) so they could quiz the heroes-in-training on their kiddie protecting knowledge without the risk of harming actual children.

You, now seven years old, were going to be your boyfriend’s biggest challenge.

The situation was simple enough: you were “stuck” under a collapsed building, and he had to rescue and console you.

Climbing swiftly through the wreckage, Todoroki followed the sound of your cries until he found you.

Your leg was trapped under a large piece of debris, which he removed with a burst of ice.

He grabbed you and held you close to his chest, attempting to soothe your hiccups and frantic whimpers (7-year-old you is an incredibly good actor-)

After he had calmed you down a bit, he crouched down to inspect your wound

That’s when you smacked him.

“Don touch me!”

“I need to. You’re hurt.”

“Nuh-uh, I don’t want you to touch me.”

“Why not?”

“You’re gross :( I don’t let gross boys touch me.”

(The other students of 1-A, watching this unfold through security cameras, were cackling)

“...I’m not gross.”

“Prove it.” You crossed your arms, limping a bit as you kept up your injured facade

Todoroki let a shard of ice bloom in his hands and watched as your eyes lit up.

He allowed you to hold the little blob, effectively distracting you from the bandages he wrapped around your leg

When he was done patching you up, he grabbed you and carried you off (ignoring your cries of how mean he was for tricking you)

He brought you to the endpoint of the trial and set you down, clearing his exam.

Kid you was still incredibly angry at him, but you were pulled away to be re-aged before you could let him know just how much he pissed you off

“6/10, bonus points for quick thinking and distraction. Minus points for them calling you gross.” -Aizawa

After you had been re-aged, you were still a bit peeved (your memories were blurry, but you could remember being mad).

As you explained your predicament to your boyfriend, he ran his hand through his sweaty hair and smiled.

“I’d much rather deal with regular you being angry. You were a nightmare as a child.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Shoto? Are you saying I was a bad kid?”

“Uh. No? Maybe? I mean, in that situation, yes.”

You flicked him on the forehead. “I think I was a very polite child, thank you very much.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

[bbangsoonie]

teach me about love

member: kevin genre: fluff (preschool teacher!kevin au) word count: 2,120 synopsis: when your brother asks you to pick up your nieces from school, you find a teacher that you find to be cuter than the toddlers there.

a/n: happy birthday to our moonlight boy, kevin 🌙

You didn’t really like kids. They were adorable, of course, but they were snotty walking embodiments of germs and you had no idea how to entertain them. They were absolutely precious when sleeping but their tantrums terrified you.

Whenever they came up to you with those bright expectant eyes, you didn’t know what to do except pet their head. Everyone around you would scold you saying that they were children, not dogs. But in your defense, they didn’t seem to mind.

To be honest, you preferred dogs over kids. They were cute all the time.

Nonetheless, you still adored your nieces. The older one, Ahyoung, reminded you of your own past self. She was shy and reserved but sought out love and attention. She constantly needed assurance to fight early signs of anxiety. The younger one, Soyoung, was the complete opposite; she was loud and outgoing. She easily made friends with everyone and adjusted well to new environments.

So when your brother asked you for a last minute favor, you were more than happy to pick them up at their preschool. Unfortunately, however, you were terrible with directions and ended up 20 minutes late.

Apologizing profusely to the staff and teachers, you made your way throughout the building to find their classroom. That was another struggle of its own.

“Auntie Y/n!” you heard two familiar voices screech. You laughed as they ran up to you and hugged your legs.

“Sorry I’m late girls,” you pouted as you squished their cheeks.

“It’s okay, Auntie! Teacher Kevin was playing house with us,” Ahyoung beamed.

“Teacher Kevin was our dog!” Soyoung giggled.

You looked up to see a male teacher sheepishly escape from the tiny playhouse. You held back a laugh, pitying him for what the girls put him through.

“I’m sorry about that,” you chuckled.

“No worries,” he smiled. “It’s my job and I love kids. I had fun playing with them too.”

“I’m Y/n,” you introduced as you held out a hand. “I’m Ahyoung and Soyoung’s aunt. I came to pick them up since my brother got caught up in a work emergency.”

“It’s nice to meet you. My name is Kevin,” he said as he shook your hand. You knew it was unprofessional to think this but he was cute. Like, really cute.

Trying to leave before your smiling cheeks could reveal your thoughts, you quickly collected the girls’ bags and helped them put their jackets on. You bid their cute teacher goodbye and happily suggested an aunt-niece ice cream date. They cheered at the idea of sweets and raced to your car.

The next week, your brother asked if you could pick the girls up from school again. Apparently they had been bugging him to have their favorite aunt come every day.

You weren’t sure if it was his flattery or if it was their sneaky plan for ice cream but you didn’t mind. As a freelancer, you had a flexible schedule. You were glad to spend time with your nieces and catch another glimpse of their teacher.

This time, you made sure to leave your house early. You ended up arriving before dismissal and watched as the kids ran around in the playground. Something about seeing Kevin’s eyes sparkle in front of them made you soft. He seemed so genuinely happy and looked at each student with honey dripping from his eyes.

Soyoung squealed as she chased after a boy who tapped her free in a game of freeze tag. She was a little confused about the rules but the effort was there.

While still keeping an eye on the children, Kevin approached you and asked if you wanted a juice box. You kindly declined, thanking him for the offer.

“You’re really good with the little ones,” you complimented.

“Ah, no, they’re the ones who are good with me,” he shyly shook his head. “I’m thankful that they see me as a fun and respectable teacher.”

“I find young kids to be difficult,” you confessed. “I don’t know how to match their level.”

“I get you. It’s definitely not easy to figure out what they want and try to communicate with them with their still-developing language skills. I’m still not great at it. I just try to improve a little more every day,” he said humbly.

He was a lot better than you who was quick to give up and run away. His words made you reflect and feel slightly guilty.

The bell chimed, making the students rush to line up in front of the door. Kevin left your side to gather everyone together and take them back inside to gather their belongings.

By now, a handful of parents had arrived and were waiting for their children. One by one, the students walked out with their matching yellow chick backpacks, excitedly running up to their guardian.

Your nieces greeted you in that high pitched shriek you loved, body slamming into your open arms. With them in your embrace, you gave them a tight squeeze before getting up and holding their hands to take them to the car.

“Wait!” you heard Kevin call out. Turning around, you were surprised to see him running towards you. When he caught up to you, he held out a book. Taking it, you read the title.

“The Body Language of Toddlers”

“I thought you might find this book useful,” his hands fumbled awkwardly, not knowing where to go. His gesture brought you a warm feeling.

“Thank you, Kevin. I’ll be sure to give it a read,” you smiled.

“Ooooh,” Ahyoung wiggled her eyebrows, making both you and Kevin blush. You ruffled her hair and ushered her towards your vehicle.

Picking the girls up from school became a biweekly thing for you. Every Monday and Friday, you would arrive ten minutes early to chat with Kevin as he told you funny stories that happened throughout the day. And when you worked with a bunch of preschoolers, there were a lot of those types of stories.

You listened as he went on about how a little boy woke up from a nap thinking he had an argument with his friend because of a nightmare he had. Kevin had to convince him that it was all a dream and that his friend did not actually steal his gummy worms and lie about it.

The way he spoke about his students was endearing. He made them sound like lovely angels even when they were cranky and misbehaving.

“We’re looking for chaperones for the upcoming field trip if you’re interested,” he cautiously brought up. “We only had a few parents sign up so we’d really appreciate any extra helping hands.”

Panicking, you stuttered about how you didn’t have the confidence to keep rowdy kids in check at a public space. He assured you that your only responsibility would be to make sure no one ran off and to accompany kids to the bathroom if they had to separate from the group.

He was a smooth talker. He somehow persuaded you into agreeing and you couldn’t believe you left the school that day after signing the form.

“Auntie, do you like Teacher Kevin?” Ahyoung asked you in the car ride back home.

“Sure, Teacher Kevin is nice,” you hummed.

“No, she means do you like like him?” Soyoung pressed.

You feigned innocence and pretended not to understand what they were talking about. They grilled you about how often you talked with him and even pointed out that he didn’t talk to other parents like that. They sure were smart-witted for their age.

On the day of the field trip, you spent a long time deciding on what to wear. You had no idea how casual you were supposed to dress as a chaperone.

You ended up choosing a simple outfit and rushed out the door to avoid being late. You had to say you were excited. It had been ages since you last visited an aquarium. And maybe the extra butterflies in your stomach were because of a certain someone you were looking forward to seeing.

Meeting Kevin outside of the school felt different. He stood out in the crowd of tiny humans. Even more so once you entered the place and you noticed that most of the visitors were families, students, or couples.

You softly smiled as you watched the kids fawn over colorful fish and gawk at sharks. It felt like you were returning to your own childhood innocence. You followed Ahyoung, who was pulling at your sleeve, to the jellyfish section where she asked you to take a picture of her with the transparent creature.

The photos came out so incredibly that you had to immediately send them to your brother. He texted back almost instantly and you scoffed when you read his message.

“Heck yeah I made that. Those are my genes right there.”

Rolling your eyes, the corners of your lips twitched up as you put the device away. You guided Ahyoung back to the rest of the group and ran into Kevin who was coming back from the bathroom with another student.

“How are you enjoying the trip so far?” he asked.

“It’s nice. Honestly not as chaotic as I thought it’d be,” you admitted.

“Oh don’t jinx it. Lunch time will be hectic,” he warned.

He was right. Between picky kids and the kimbap packed by their parents, the unwanted vegetables were flown around the picnic table. You barely managed to avoid the carrot that was flung in your direction. Unluckily, you were unable to dodge the spinach that was now tangled in your hair.

Kevin laughed as he tried to help you take it out, cracking a joke about it looking like seaweed and you looking like a mermaid dragged out of the ocean.

“He means you’re pretty, Auntie!!” Soyoung eagerly translated on his behalf. “Mermaids are super super pretty. Like Ariel, the princess!”

This raised a teasing crowd of “ooh”s from the group of preschoolers.

“Teacher Kevin and Auntie Y/n sitting in a tree,” a boy began chanting, “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

His friend made a face and screamed “ew,” making him laugh uncontrollably. Meanwhile, Kevin was trying his best to cover his burning ears. He pulled the beanie over his ears, not wanting to expose his embarrassment.

“My daddy said no boy is good enough for Auntie but I’ll tell him nice things about you, Teacher Kevin. Just specially for you,” Ahyoung proudly announced.

Awkwardly coughing, you stuffed her cheeks with another roll of kimbap. Her muffled cries of resistance were appeased with a juice box shoved into her mouth. The sweet drink diverted her attention away from you and back to her lunch.

You two were now officially shipped by all of Kevin’s students. Even the other teachers giggled as they passed by you.

By the end of the field trip, you were one of the last ones to leave. After all the other students and teachers departed from the aquarium, Kevin escorted you to the car with a sleeping Ahyoung in his arms and a sleeping Soyoung in yours.

You both carefully placed them in their car seats and closed the door after buckling their seat belts. Now that you were alone with him, you didn’t know what to say. Despite the silence, it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable.

“So have you warmed up to the idea of kids yet?” he finally asked after clearing his throat.

“The book you gave me definitely taught me a lot of things,” you nodded. “Now I’m not completely terrified of them. And seeing you handle kids comforts me.”

“Really? How so?”

“I don’t know. It’s just�� you so effortlessly take care of them and I can see how much you cherish each and every one of your students. I envy that.”

“Trust me, it’s not as easy as you think it is,” he chuckled.

Silence fell between you again but you simply enjoyed his presence. You turned your head to see him already staring at you. With your eyes, you wordlessly asked if there was something he wanted to say.

“So uh tomorrow’s Saturday,” he suddenly mentioned. He was fiddling with a loose thread on his sweater and hesitated to speak up again.

“Do you have any plans for the weekend?” he blurted. You couldn’t stop the smile that crept up on your face.

“Nope.”

“Would you like to um grab dinner with me tomorrow then?”

He anxiously held his breath as he waited for your response. Biting his lips, he wondered if he had ruined things by going too fast.

“Sure. How’s 6?” you finally answered.

“6 is great. 6 is lovely. Wonderful. Perfect,” he replied with a huge grin.

a/n: calling all kevin enthusiasts aka @reverienostalgia

i also may or may not have kinda wrote my little cousins into this fic.. 👉🏻👈🏻

[strawberrylemonz]

Masked Crowns

Part 16

Part 17 [CURRENT]

Part 18

@petrichormeraki @applepie1000 @artistconk @ivorylin @sydneys-sketches @snapdragonfirefly @bargledblocks

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

“Theo, stop moving around! Clem, stop fucking around and quite biting my ankle! Hey, don’t use that tone with me, young lad- Clementine!”

Fundy appeared half dead as he laid on the couch, exhausted. He watched as both Theo and Clementine hounded Tommy, who was just trying to make adjustments to their formal wear. Groaning as he hoisted himself into a sitting position, Fundy rubbed his eyes as he addressed his uncle.

“Give it up, Tommy, they aren’t gonna sit still. Wilbur gave them candy this morning.”

“I know, Fundy. Jesus, what the fuck was Wil thinking?!”

“Look at the bright side, you were able to quickly make adjustments to the bot-boys.”

“Only because Grumbot and Jrumbot are saints. I swear, Grian is a better father than I am at times. Don’t fucking tell him I said that- Clementine! What the fuck?!”

Both Fundy and Tommy looked down to the two children, who both appeared to be offended. Clementine huffed as she stomped her kicking foot on the ground, her arms crossed as she glared at her father. Theo did his best to match his cousin’s level of intimidating energy, giving an annoyed looks at his father and great uncle.

“No!”

“No what?”

“Noooo!”

“Ender- Clem, I can’t understand what's wrong when you throw fits, okay? Take a deep breath, collect yourself, then tell me what’s wrong.”

“Hnnnn”

Tommy frowned as he stared at the younger girl, who seemed to grow more irritated by the second. He knew her, though, could read her body language perfectly. She wasn’t angry or irritated, she was hurt and upset. Kneeling down, he held his hands out to his daughter, who glared at them in fury. After realizing her father’s hands weren’t going to combust, she sighed as she placed her tiny hands in Tommy’s bigger ones. Slumping her shoulders in defeat, she frowned down at her feet. Giving a frown of his own, Tommy lowered his head to try and make eye contact with Clementine, to no avail.

“Hey, look at me. Please?”

He watched with slight appeasement as she tilted her head up, her eyes slowly meeting Tommy’s. He gave her a hesitant smile, gently rubbing her tiny hands in a comforting manner as he did so.

“What’s wrong, little moth?”

Clementine didn’t talk much, opting to use her growls and grunts to communicate. This, however, wasn’t a situation where that form of communication would help things run smoothly. Moving her eyes from her dad’s face down to their joined hands, she frowned as her bottom lip began to quiver.

“I’m bad.”

“...What?”

“No good. Bad. Not nice. Not calm.”

As he stared at the sad expression resting on the girl’s face, Tommy suddenly felt small once again. He felt the same way he did when his father complained about him, not realizing his youngest was listening. He remembered the self doubt he felt and the hurt in his chest when his dad would compare him to his older brothers. It had fucking hurt when he was a kid, and it still did. And now? Now he was doing the same to his daughter. He was the fucking worst.

“No-Clementine, that isn’t true. Fuck, I- That’s not what I- Listen-”

Tommy sat down completely as he leaned forward, peering into the sad eyes of his daughter. Fuck, who knew being a parent would hurt his heart so fucking much? He was in his fucking feels at the moment, and it was all because of the toddler that stood before him. He was so scared of hurting her, of giving her reasons to despise and disown him as her father. He had to fix this, he needed to.

“The day I found you, I felt a piece of me return. It’s okay that you’re not like your cousins. You know what? I’m glad you’re not like them. You’re you, and you are being the best you there is. You’re not bad, Clementine, you’re fucking lovely. Don’t ever doubt yourself, okay? You’re a fucking badass, a brilliant one, too. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to compare you to your cousins.”

The small smile that graced Clementine’s lips was enough to fill Tommy with relief. Pulling her into a hug, he smiled as he felt her cling onto his shirt for comfort. Looking to the side, he hummed as he motioned for his great nephew to join in on the hug. Theo, who was quietly watching it all, happily ran into the hug, pulling his father along with him. So much had happened in such little time that Tommy forgot that kids were easily overwhelmed. From discovering new family, the park’s opening, house renovations, and then personal schedules, it was too much for the two to handle. They got along and enjoyed their cousins, but Tommy and Fundy had forgotten that they needed more than just that. They needed reassurance that they were enough.

“Now, can you two please let Tommy make final adjustments to your outfits? We have a ball to attend to, after all.”

--------

Attending the ball was truly a blast from the past. Tommy snickered as Kristin gushed about the matching outfits her grandbabies and youngest son were wearing, alongside with her own. Most of the members from the Dream SMP just gawked in silence as Lani, who was matching with both Drista and Tubbo, twirled and bragged about how wonderful of a designer and tailor Tommy was.

“Tommy made those?”

“Yup! He sure did!”

“But they’re so...elegant.”

“Oi! Fuck you!”

Laughter erupted from the group as the music played in the background. As the group conversed among one another, pairs began to break off to dance.

“Pa!”

Tommy peered down at Clementine, who held her hands up expectedly. Letting out a laugh, he scooped her up into his arms, smiling as she giggled with every bounce her father caused with his laughter. She smiled brightly at him as he fixed the tiara on her head. She laid her head on his shoulder as he swayed along to the music, both content. After a moment, Tommy felt his daughter’s head lift from his shoulder.

“Cousins.”

He turned to follow her line of sight to see Theo, Grumbot and Jrumbot all waving at him, their suits and hair fixed appropriately for the occasion. Returning the wave, he smiled at his daughter, setting her down with a nod.

“Yeah, you four go dance and have fun. Be careful.”

He couldn’t help but smile as her curls bounced as she squealed in excitement. Giving Tommy a hug, she quickly grabbed a hold of her cousins and rushed to the dance floor, smiling as her cousins argued as to which pair should dance with who. As he watched his only child scurry away with her cousins, he couldn’t help but sigh. The feeling of a hand on his forearm caught his attention. Turning to the side, he saw Tubbo smile at him, Lani and Drista right behind him.

“C’mon, let’s go dance.”

----------

Tommy and Lani were doing their best to not disrupt their dancing with silent wheezes of laughter, they really were. It’s not their fault, everyone was making it so hard for them!

“It’s like he’s dancing with Mount Everest!”

“Holy shit, this is hilarious.”

The pair watched in amusement as Tubbo bossed an awkward, but happy, Ranboo around the dance floor. The height difference in itself was enough to make the sight laughable.

“Tommy, over there.”

Following Lani’s line of sight, Tommy damn near belted out laughter as a grumpy Drista was stuck paired with one of the park’s guests, who would not shut up about her relation to Dream.

“Poor girl, losing her sanity.”

“She’s about to break, it’s fucking hilarious. Should have given her a fork.”

“We’re here to dance, Tommy, not commit a felony.”

“Rich coming from a girl with multiple knife pockets installed into her dress.”

“You installed them!”

“You commissioned them!”

The two began to bicker like the besties they were as their friends and family danced around them. Phil and Kristin danced and twirled as they shared whispers to each other, their smiles brighter than ever. Wilbur and Techno were awkwardly dancing with one another, their empty insults to one another growing louder the longer the brothers were with each other. Grian was teaching Grumbot the proper way to waltz, Bad and Skeppy goofingly twirling around them. Clementine and Jrumbot happily danced off beat, no one even daring to teach them the proper moves. Quackity, Karl and Sapnap laughed as they spun around together, the three pulling George in from the sidelines. Just as Tommy was about to make a comment, a sharp elbow jabbed his side.

“Ow! Lani, what the fuc-”

“Shh! Look!”

“What are you-”

“Just look, it’s important!”

And important it was. There, standing at the food tables, was Fundy. He wasn’t alone, though, not at all. There, making the hybrid blush and stutter, stood a guy. Lani and Tommy exchanged knowingly looks, before dashing over to the nearest hiding spot.

“Move over!”

“No, you!”

“Shh, listen!”

----------

“Go away.”

Theo frowned as the words left his mouth. He crossed his arms as he glared up at the emotionless mask before him, the face behind it hidden well. That didn’t stop Theo from being able to read body language, and the vibes he was getting weren’t necessarily hostile, but they weren’t welcoming as well.

“I just wanted to get a good look at you, to know you. Makes sense, doesn’t it? You are my son after all.”

The word sounded so wrong coming out of the unseen mouth. Son. As far as Theo was concerned, Dream was no father to him. His only dad was Fundy, and Fundy was all he needed for a parent.

“Your crown looks very nice, did you design it yourself? And I like your suit. I noticed that it matches Fundy’s perfectly. In fact, both of your crowns match perfectly with one another.”

Theo wasn’t planning on responding to any of the comments, not that he’d have to try. Dream just didn’t seem to catch the child’s drift, continuing to talk despite the boy not responding. 

“You have my hair color, it looks good on you. You’re obviously a shapeshift, like Fundy. Have you tried shifting to your more humanoid form? Oh, your eyes. You have-”

“My eyes.”

He may have been young, but Theo wasn’t daft. He knew that Dream (he would not call him father) was the reason for him having to live in the burrows up until then. He didn’t know what all Dream did, but he knew that it was enough to make his papa and uncle Tommy hurt very badly. He wasn’t going to let Dream see him with his guard down, not around him. He just stood and glared at the older man, who seemed to not have taken a hint to the child’s body language. Theo just confidently stood his ground as he watched Dream kneel before him, reaching over to gently pat his head, not seeming to care about pushing the crown around. Theo was quick to catch his crown, which fell off his head the moment Dream pushed it off. Much to Theo’s relief, the unwelcomed form of affection didn’t last long.

“Ow!”

“Dickhead! Dickhead!”

Dream pulled his arm back as Theo hid a laugh behind his hand. Standing in confidence was Clementine, who had just bitten Dream’s hand. She just growled and hissed at Dream, taking a protective stance in front of Theo as Grumbot and Jrumbot stood by his side, ready to defend their cousin. Dream just rubbed his hand, before pointing at the emerald jewel dangling from the girl’s necklace.

“I only know one person with an emerald cut exactly like that. You must be Tommy’s brat. What did he name ya again? Clementine? Figured. I guess it’s true after all, trouble attracts trouble. Don’t tell me that you’re just as problematic as your dad-”

“Shut up!”

Theo huffed as he yelled at Dream, who wasn’t expecting such an outburst from the quiet child. Grumbot narrowed his eyes as the man, pulling Theo behind him as he did so. Jrumbot, on the other hand, just mocked the masked warrior.

“-meanie mask man!”

“Fine! We’ll talk once you’ve all calmed down. I’ll see you around, Theo.”

Dream let out an annoyed huff as he walked off, giving a half-wave to Theo. Once he was completely out of sight, Theo was mobbed by his concerned cousins, who were quick to assess him. Clementine began to sniff for any off scents while Jrumbot clung onto his arm, whines escaping his artificial mouth as his older brother inspected Theo. Whilst checking for any possible injuries, Grumbot began to question the younger boy.

“Were you hurt?”

“No.”

“Did he threaten you?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Well, is he as big of a jerk as Uncle Tommy said he was?”

Theo blinked a few times before laughing, causing the worried faces of his cousins to morph into confusion. After a moment, an amused look graced Grumbot’s features. Clementine and Jrumbot only continued to watch in confusion. Finally calming down, Theo responded with a nod.

“Yeah, he is. He tried acting like he was my dad.”

“We should tell your dad.”

“Are you kidding me?! He’s talking to a potential dad! Let’s just go bother Uncle Tommy.”

“No! Spy. Uncle Grian!”

“I’m sure dad won’t mind us bothering him. Let’s get going.”

Making sure they all had their belongings, the four children scurried off towards Grian. As they happily spoke with the father of the bot boys, Theo felt a chill down his spine. Turning around to peer behind him, he noticed a familiar white mask. If he clung onto his uncle a bit tighter than usual, Grian didn’t mention.

:)

[amintyworld]

Wilbur's Crows - A Dream SMP Drabble

A/N: Have a little fluff for the soul, featuring Phil's Chat! - Minty

TW: Crying? (Lmk if I need to tag anything else!)

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

Sunrise bled through the white curtains, slowly melting away the peaceful starry night into a new day. Creatures stirred out of their slumber, and monsters retreating back to the darkness from whence they came, a few slowly turning to ash and bust. The smell of burning flesh ran potent through the forest, a smell that meant safety to those living within, a smell they were more than used to, blind to. The ground began to warm under the sun's gaze, the cool breeze of night turning to warmth. A warm hug mother nature gave to her children, easing them away from dreamland.

Beside a window, a crib rocked slightly back and forth as a breeze blew through the room. A messy brown-haired tyke held a teddy bear protectively to his chest, sleeping soundly. The light growing brighter behind his eyes, he shifted uncomfortably. Finding no relief, a noise of annoyance rose from his throat as he buried his face into the stuffed animal.

Swiftly, hearing the distress, a few black crows landed on the windowsill overlooking the three-year-old. Some brandished shiny necklaces they wore as a badge of honor. Some were simply bare. A crow to the left of the other two put down a shiny glimmering rock from its beak down by its feet, putting the gift aside for now. Looking to the side, the left crow could see the one on the far right putting down a large chunk of a diamond before the one in the middle met its gaze. Together, all three stared down at the toddler in concern for a moment as the small human squirmed, his chest heaving in breath like he was about to cry.

The two crows looked to the right one with the badge, wondering what they should do. The right one hopped over toward the headboard of the crib, taking in the child. Then, they let out a loud call. "Caw!" The loud noises made the small human's eyes snap open to see a black crow staring down at him, cawing. "Caw! Caw!"

The other two chimed in occasionally, adding to the caw-rus. That was, until the toddler in both annoyance and a little fear clutched his teddy closer and began to cry. The two on the windowsill looked at each other in panic - something was wrong with the small human, it was crying! - and began to caw louder to draw the attention of their owner.

As the door creaked open, all crows silenced, watching their owner as he entered. Watching for any sign of what he wanted them to do. The blonde locks fell a little past his shoulders, with kind blue eyes. He approached the child, reaching his hand down and gently brushing any hair out of his son's face. "Shh, it's okay mate, everything's okay..." When the child's eyes met his father's he silenced, simply looking up at him. Phil smiled as he moved to pick him up, holding the toddler against his hip. Wilbur's grip failed on the teddy during the transition, dropping on the ground as the left-sided crow flew down to try and grab it, flapping its wings wildly to get the surprisingly heavy stuffed animal in the air. Phil let out a warm chuckle as he kneeled down to take it, the crow backing off. After the small child got settled in his arms, he raised a finger to his lips and kissed it, pressing it to his son's nose as he giggled. "There's the Wilbur I know." Phil cooed.

Turning toward the window, his crows looked on silently, wanting to help but unsure as of how. "He's okay, Chat. Wilbur's okay." The caws returned in relief at the statement, breaking the somewhat silence. The crow with the necklace flew over toward Wilbur, trying to land on Phil's shoulder before the tyke waved his arms in protest and annoyance.

"Caw!"

"Caw!" Wilbur mimicked. "Caw!"

Phil chuckled at his son's outburst, trying his best to sound stern. "Now Wil, we don't wanna try to hurt Chat, do we?"

As Wilbur turned to face his father as he talked, the crow in question changed course, landing on top of Wilbur's head with a "caw". Phil tried to hold back his laughter at it all as the door creaked once more, someone else entering the room. Their voice was warm like Phil's but soft, comforting. "So I'm guessing Wilbur's okay?"

"Yeah, just a little grumpy this morning," Phil answered.

"Mumza!" A crow chanted.

She walked further into the room, behind her husband, giving him a small peck on the cheek. "Hm, I wonder where he gets it from..." She teased. Phil turned to face his wife with a smirk, leaning over to give her a proper kiss on the lips. As Wilbur moved closer, he could see a silver glint around her neck.

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

"Uhm, Wilbur..." Ranboo began as he looked up from the crafting table and out the window of their van. "Wilbur they're here again."

Wilbur sighed from his spot on the hammock, arm over his eyes. "You've gotta be joking. I told him to stop sending them!"

"Honestly? I don't think he has any control over them, they just kinda... do what they want." Ranboo shrugged.

Grumbling, frustrated, Wilbur marched out of the door of his burger van and toward the thousands of black crows lining the trees of the surrounding forest. A few brandishing those unmistakable necklaces, he knew exactly whose crows these were. He told Phil multiple times he was fine. He told Phil multiple times he didn't need a babysitter and that he wanted to change. Phil told him multiple times that he trusted him.

Ha, 'Trusted him'. He was sending in his fucking bird surveillance!

If scaring them didn't work, talking to them didn't work...

He pulled out a water bucket from his inventory, the murder of crows staring down at him as he stared up at them. "This is your final fucking warning, go away!"

Spinning he launched the water into the air as it came splashing down on top of the tree. Caws rang out amongst the forest as a few gave up and flew away, but the rest simply flapped their wings and flew a little higher, soaking wet... and mad.

"Oh Shit."

Wilbur's eyes widened as a murder of crows flew toward him as full speed, knocking him over onto the grass. Their talons caught on his skin and clothes, scratching and leaving him sore. Blinded by a sea of feathers and black, Wilbur struggled to his feet, coughing out a few feathers that landed in his mouth before finally getting his bearings, the murder traveling to settling on top of the van. After shaking himself free of feathers, guilt weighed on his heart - they were only following their owner, after all.

"Look, I'm sorry Chat. I... I didn't mean to hurt you, I... uhm..." Wilbur sighed. "I just don't like being watched, okay?" As Wilbur turned to leave, he heard the fluttering of wings and saw the crows surround his feet, one perched on his head and one on each shoulder. He mustered a bit of an awkward smile - it was strange that he was literally talking to birds. His father's birds, but still. "Thanks, Chat."

Walking off deeper into the forest, Wilbur could hear the flapping of wings behind him, and found himself smiling. Maybe it had some weird psychological effect from trying to run them off his property for almost a week straight... but his father's crows were growing on him.

They settled wherever he went as he worked collecting wood and finding some cows to bring back, the flapping always a telltale sign. One always liked settling on top of his head, and after a few hours, Wilbur allowed it. Chat was a silent presence, but not an unwelcome one to Wilbur, who didn't have many friends besides Ranboo to hang around.

As the day came to a close, he walked back toward the van. "I'm guessing I'll see you all tomorrow, then?" He got a few caws in response as the murder took off into the sky and over the horizon, back towards his father's home in the artic. One crow remained - the one perched in his brown curls. "Go on then, you'll see me tomorrow after all." Wilbur gestured toward the others. "And please learn to listen to Phil, okay? You guys could've gotten yourselves lost trying to find me."

The crow landed on Wilbur's outstretched arm, and for the first time, Wilbur could see the crow had something in its beak. A grand silver necklace with a black stone pendant, that shimmer silver in the sunset's glow. Wilbur's eyes narrowed, scanning it. "Is... Is this...?" He looked up toward the crow, who let out a caw and flew away.

Wilbur ran his finger over the pendant that he'd never seen before, and yet he felt like he'd known it his whole life.

Mom.

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

General Writing Tagging List (Let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!):

@bones-sprouts

@foolishcaptains

@benzel

[cablesscutie]

Inspired by @hayleynfoster’s comic and some hilarious headcannons about the littlest steambaby with Hayley and @favlie​

Read it on AO3

1.

The day Avatar Aang comes to meet his second niece, Fire Lord Zuko refuses to let his youngest child out of sight.  Katara rolls her eyes, and reminds her husband that neither of their children had ended up psychologically disturbed because of their flights.  “Not,” she adds, pointing at Aang, “that I am allowing a repeat, but I think just holding her while firmly on the ground will be fine.”

“Mmmm,” Zuko hesitates, curling Kallik closer to his chest.  Her big eyes blink up at the adults guileless from her blanket.  “No.”

“You let Azula hold her!” Aang argues.

“She doesn’t do anything with the babies!” Zuko shoots back.  It’s not strictly true, he knows, but his sister’s ritual with newborns is unsettling in a much different way.  She simply stares deep into each child’s eyes upon being handed them, until some kind of understanding passes between her and the baby.  Results have varied, but the most important part is that there was no threat to life and limb.  

Katara’s raised eyebrow says that she also doesn’t believe Zuko’s words, but she doesn’t say anything.  They are, after all, a united front - to the children, to politicians, to their friends.  In the privacy of their chambers, however, he knows he will be hearing about this.

2.

Katara and Zuko take the kids to spend Kallik’s first birthday at the South Pole.  It’s a tradition they’ve observed with all three, and Zuko always looks forward to going to visit her family.  The house is loud and chaotic, full to bursting with people, the exact opposite of his own lonely childhood.  There is no posturing, and everyone loves and squabbles openly.  On this particular visit, they have overlapped with Aang’s stay with Sokka and Suki, so Gran-Gran’s house is in even more of an uproar than usual by the time Zuko and Katara arrive.

Kya immediately dashes off to coo over her little cousins as they toddle around behind Pakku, pretending to be otter penguins.  Satoshi runs to the kitchen to be showered in kisses and cookies from Gran-Gran.  Hakoda finds them barely out of their parkas and already thoroughly abandoned.

“I could’ve sworn you had at least one other child,” he tells Katara, scratching his head as he pretends to search for his missing grandchildren.  She laughs and hugs her father tight.  Neither of them let go for long moments, and Zuko’s throat feels tight when he notices his father-in-law’s misty eyes.  He looks down at Kallik, thinks of his other two children, and wonders for the thousandth time how Hakoda could ever forgive him for keeping Katara so far away.  It’s why he hands his daughter over easily when her grandfather waggles his fingers expectantly and says, “Alright, give her here.”

Hakoda settles Kallik on his hip with practiced ease, and pulls Zuko into a brief hug with his free arm.  “Good to see you, son.”  

Zuko clears his throat.  “You too,” he says, and Katara laughs softly at his awkward shuffling, amused by how he doesn’t know what to do with his hands without a baby in his arms.  She answers his question by lacing their fingers together as she leads him deeper into the house to find her brother and their friends seated around the hearth fire watching the kids run around.

Hugs are exchanged all around, and Zuko settles into their familiar company.  Hakoda joins them after taking Kallik to say hello to Gran-Gran and Pakku, and bounces the baby on his knee to make her laugh.  Aang makes silly faces at her that have her letting out piercing giggles and reaching out to try and grab at the wooden beads of his necklace.

“Well clearly she’s bored of me,” Hakoda says, making to hand her off to her uncle.  “Here you go -”  Zuko leans over and intercepts.

“Oh no.  No baby catapult,” he says, shaking his head.

Aang gives him a pout to rival Momo.  “Come on, we’re indoors!”  Katara clears her throat, and when Zuko glances over, her eyes are narrowed at him.  With a sigh, he holds Kallik out to Aang.

“Fine.  But I’m watching you.”

3.

Extended family vacations to Ember Island always sound like a good idea to Katara.  At first.  When her husband is burnt out and aching, and the kids are climbing the walls, and she just wants to lie in the sun with a book, it seems like the cure for everything.

And then they arrive.  Somehow, much like she forgets the excruciating pain of childbirth, she never recalls the onslaught of chaos and catastrophe that comes every vacation.  Like the time Sokka got stung by a jelly-ray.  Or the time Suki and Zuko got in a fight about disciplining each other’s kids.  Or the time every single one of the kids managed to get sunburnt and couldn’t sleep.  Every year, it’s always something, and somehow, it usually ends up being at least partially her problem to solve.

This year, though, is somehow turning out alright.  They reach day three without major incident, and almost entirely without tears - a near miracle for a vacation involving five children under the age of ten.

“I’m almost done with my first book already,” she tells Zuko as they rock slowly in a hammock on the deck, whispering in hopes of keeping any listening spirits from knowing that she’s gotten her hopes up.

“Good, you deserve the break,” Zuko says.  He looks on the verge of sleep despite the fact that the sun is still climbing in the sky.  The dark circles beneath his eyes are already faded almost to nothing.  She sighs happily and grabs her book, but before she can actually crack it open, she hears Toph cackling and her Mom Senses light up.  Zuko calls after her in surprise as she leaves the hammock swaying wildly behind her, but she doesn’t look back on her way to the beach.  

When she arrives, it is just in time to see Toph pick up Kallik, a wicked smile on her face.  Sokka and Suki’s twins are further down the beach standing beside Aang, both of them jumping up and down with excitement, waiting for something.

“Go long, Twinkle Toes!”  Katara’s eyes go wide, and faster than should be possible, she reaches them, yanking Kallik out of Toph’s hands.  “Hey!”

“Absolutely not!”  Katara says, scowling.

“I was gonna catch her!”  Aang shouts.  Katara shakes her head.

“This is not happening.  No way.”  Then, silently lamenting the loss of quiet time with her husband, Katara looks at the twins and asks, “Who wants to go get some ice cream?

4.

At Zuko’s request, his birthday is not a big deal with his family.  It’s a combination of the fact that the entire Fire Nation loses its mind about the day anyway, so he is all but forced to spend a day attending a festival in his honor, and the fact that he is used to his birthday being a marker of all the disappointments he has been in the past year.  It is a long-standing compromise with his wife that she is allowed to throw him a small, family-only party, to be kept within the bounds of the garden.  He enjoys the excuse to get everyone together without a barrage of meetings involved, and the rest of their family is so boisterous in comparison to him, he can almost forget that the day has anything to do with him at all.

For his thirtieth birthday, he makes the further concession of allowing Uncle to set up his new phonograph so there could be dancing.  Zuko is manning the crank, watching Katara and Kya swing each other around while Aang sits next to him, flipping through the records looking for the right song.

“Do you have a request too?” Zuko hears him ask, and turns to see Kallik has toddled away from Uncle Iroh and approached the Avatar.  She puts her hands on his knees and starts bouncing, flashing him a smile that shows all of her new teeth.  “You want upsies?” Aang coos, and reaches to scoop her up by the armpits.  Zuko clears his throat loudly, shooting Aang his best murder eyes, and the Avatar shrinks back into the collar of his robes a little.  “What about dance party?”  He lets Kallik grab onto his fingers and starts hopping around with her to the beat, hunched over and both of them giggling.

5.

“Oh Uncle Aaaaang!” Kya sings, striding out into the garden where Appa has just landed. She has Kallik on her hip, and Satoshi follows along at her heels, excited to see Appa and Momo again.  His pockets are already full of lychee nuts for his fuzzy friends.

“Hey guys!” Uncle Aang calls, his gangly arms waving excitedly.  “Are you the welcoming committee now?”  He lands in front of them on a gentle breeze, setting down his bag and grinning broadly.

“Mom and Dad are in a meeting,” Kya informs him.  “But somebody wanted to go for a little flight.”  She hitches the toddler higher and winks conspiratorially.  “If you catch my drift.”  Uncle Aang’s eyes go wide, and he looks between the kids with unease.  Satoshi feels terror grip his throat.  He knew his big sister was crazy, but would she really…?

“Oh I dunno, your Dad was pretty...adamant...that you all are grounded until further notice.”  Satoshi lets out a sigh of relief.

“Dad’s in a meeting,” Kya reiterates, as though being in a meeting involves entering another dimension.  She should know better, her brother thinks to himself.  Mom and Dad always find out when they’re up to no good, and as the sibling who’s usually leading the charge into trouble, Kya should definitely have that figured out by now.  Uncle Aang should absolutely know that by now, but with horor, Satoshi realizes that the Avatar is looking a little bit convinced.  “And we’re not gonna tell on you,” she wheedles.  Speak for yourself, Satoshi thinks, glancing around to see if there are any guards within earshot if he calls for their parents.  Sadly, it seems nobody has realized that the Avatar requires careful supervision.

“Well…” Uncle Aang considers, then comes to his decision, smiling once again.  “Alright, I guess one can’t hurt.  Who’s going?”  

Kya moves to offer Kallik to him, her tiny hands reaching out and making grabby motions.  Satoshi’s world goes into slow-motion.  There’s a roaring in his ears, and as if from outside his body, he hears his own voice say,

“I am.”  Kya and Uncle Aang blink at him, stunned.  Their uncle is the first to recover, and asks,

“Are you sure, kiddo?  I mean, you weren’t the biggest fan when you were a baby…”

“I want to try again,” he makes himself say, despite his sweating palms.  Uncle Aang grins and ruffles his hair.

“That’s the spirit!  You get that from your dad.” 

As his uncle’s hands grab him under the armpits, Satoshi hears Kya mutter, “It’s the self-sacrificing idiot gene,” and then he is gone.  As he soars through the air, he wonders if maybe his body hasn’t even left the ground yet.  He can’t feel anything.  Maybe he just died of panic and this is just his soul taking off for the spirit world.

Then he reaches the height of his arc and starts plummeting back to Earth, and the sensation of all his internal organs rattling around asserts the fact that he is very much still alive and experiencing this.  He closes his eyes before he gets anywhere close to the ground, so it comes as a surprise when he comes to a sudden stop, cradled briefly by robes smelling of hay and bison fur, before being deposited back on his feet.

“How’s the weather up there?” Uncle Aang asks him, patting him on the back.  Satoshi doesn’t know what the weather was like.  He doesn’t know anything except that solid ground beneath his feet may have replaced his mother’s hugs as his favorite feeling in the world.  He meets Kya’s eyes, and sees from her horrified expression that he must look like as much of a husk of a child as he feels.

A quiet, affectless “Thank you,” is all that he can manage to say, and then he is wandering back into the palace, where he shoves his head into the nearest antique vase and screams.

+1

“Psst.”  A small sound behind him has Aang on alert.  The Fire Nation Royal Palace hasn’t been a place of danger for years now, but with Toph and Sokka around, the probability of sneak attacks has risen a hundred fold.  He doesn’t see anything though, and goes to turn back around, only to be caught by a surprisingly firm grip on his cape.  About two feet below where he’d expected to find his assailant, Aang comes face to face with his youngest niece, Kallik.  Her expression is the same determined furrow of the brow that Katara and Zuko have shared for so long it is impossible to tell which parent bestowed the trait on her.  It has the eerie effect of summoning the terrifying force that is their combined will.  Aang already knows that whatever she wants from him, he’s going to cave, and it will probably get him in trouble.  “I hear you’re in the business of yeeting kids.  I want in.”

Aang sighs.  Zuko has been trying to prevent this day since the moment Aang met Kallik, and Kallik has been trying to evade her father’s overprotective tendencies since the moment of her existence.  It is a battle Katara has elected not to fight, likely remembering her own impossible stubbornness and the futility of trying to stand against it.  So it is with all of that knowledge that he says, “Okay.”

“Flameo!” Kallik cheers, punching at the air.

“Well ‘flameo’ was actually more of a greeting -”

“Let’s save the fun facts.  I wanna fly.”  With a creeping sense of dread, Aang follows the child pulling him along by the cape until they reach a courtyard.  Kallik turns to face him, plants her feet, and rubs her palms together.  “Alright,” she says, spreading her arms wide.  “I’m ready.”

“Here we go...I guess,” Aang says, glancing over his shoulder as he reaches out to scoop her up by the armpits.  The coast is clear, so he swings her around in circles a couple of times to get ready.  As his niece starts to giggle, the garden blurs, and wind ruffles his robes, Aang feels the giddy anticipation of liftoff.

He hoists Kallik, up, up, up.

And then her momentum carries her out of his hands, and the wind that has built up around them propels her even higher.  Her already small body shrinks until she looks more like the shadow of a bird in the night sky, clearing the palace roofs.  A happy shriek pierces the air.  Aang smiles, feeling her wonder as if it is his own.  This is always the best part of someone’s first flight - witnessing them discover the wind anew - and while taking Air Acolytes to glide at the Northern Air Temple is fun, nothing compares to sharing this part of his culture with his nieces and nephews.

Kallik tumbles back into his arms, eyes wide with wonder, ecstatic grin plastered across her face.  “Again!” she cries, the moment breath rushes back to her.  

Aang laughs and holds her on his hip.  As he always does, he asks, “How’s the weather up there?”

“The moon is huge!  And I could see the whole city!  And the ocean!”  Kallik’s pudgy hands move in broad, sweeping gestures so similar to her mother’s bending as she speaks.  He still remembers Katara’s delighted gasp the first time she flew, Toph’s bruising grip, Zuko’s shocked laugh.  This moment, too, will be another piece of the Air Nomad legacy living on.

As Aang tosses Kallik yet again, Katara finds Zuko leaning against a pillar at the edge of the courtyard, watching.  She approaches her husband, curious to find that he isn’t having a coronary at the sight of their daughter in freefall, and takes hold of his arm.

“You gonna yell at him?” she asks, feigning nonchalance.  He doesn’t look away from them, but he is smiling, serene.

“Eh, she seems fine.”

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 14

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter:  14

Chapter Summary:  Settling into family life.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: It’s so much tooth rotting fluff. Like... I went overboard with the fluff, I couldn’t help myself.

{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11} {Chapter 12} {Chapter 13}

"Briar." Henry whispered, popping his head into the room where the little girl was playing.

"What?"

"Mama's resting up for tonight, how about you and me go check out that park down the street?" Henry suggested, hushing the girl when she squealed excitedly. Overall, finding a place to move in together hadn't been too much of an effort. Henry found Faye wasn't too picky when it came to homes. She had been impressed by every one they had seen. They had decided on one that was on a nice quiet street, not too far from town, had a big fenced in yard for Kal, enough rooms for everyone plus a park just down the street. Briar had been begging Faye to take her since they had moved in last week, but they found it hard to find time for an adventure while also trying to settle in.

If Henry had to venture a guess, he'd say they were about 3/4 of the way there. The kitchen and the bedrooms had been sorted. Henry's office/gaming room was still mostly in boxes, as well as most of the living room furniture. So far, the only thing not boxed in the living room was the couch, which Faye was currently passed out on. They had intended to unpack more, but Henry could tell she wasn't feeling right. Faye told him it was just a headache, but Henry insisted she lay down anyway.

Now was their chance to sneak out and procrastinate on actually working on the house. Henry made sure her jacket was zipped up and her hat was secure before taking her little mitten clad hand in his, leading the giddy girl down the street to the park. Her eyes lit up when she saw all the different things to play with, from slides to swings to monkey bars, all just waiting for her to climb all over them. Her hand was free from Henry's the second her little sneakered feet touched the grass, darting off to go and play on as many different things as she could.

Henry followed after the little girl, lifting her into the toddler swing at her request and setting her in motion, unable to keep the smile from his face at her elated giggles. He had intended to keep her low, not wanting to scare the little girl, but was soon reminded of her love of baby adrenaline when she started demanding to go higher and higher. He finally reached the point where she was swinging near his face, squealing in laughter the entire time, her little mitten clad hands holding the chains as her feet kicked gleefully.

"Catch, catch!" Briar laughed, twisting around to plant a kiss to Henry's jaw when he caught the seat. "Again!"

Henry was more than happy to comply, releasing the seat and letting her swing again, stepping back and giving another small push. He had half a mind to record her time on the swings; this was the type of moment that the best memories are made of. She was so happy, soaring through the air without a care in the world. He hadn't known her for very long, but he already could tell she was growing up more. She was turning into her own little person, with her own thoughts and ideas. So stubborn, unafraid to take risks and she had him wrapped around her little finger. Just like her mother. He somehow felt bad for missing out on the first years of her life, even though he didn't know her then. She deserved to have a father figure to spoil her. She needed someone in her life to show her how a woman should be treated so she wouldn't settle with someone that wasn't right for her.

How her own father could want nothing to do with her was baffling to him. She was the sweetest little girl. She would constantly pop out of nowhere to squeeze his leg in a hug and scurry off again. Every time he picked her up, she would kiss his cheek and throw her little arms around his neck. She cuddled close for bedtime stories, always reacting like it was the first time whenever he would read one to her. How anyone could decide not to be a part of her life was beyond him, but at the same time he was glad. If her biological father hadn't been a complete douchebag, he wouldn't be where he was now, living with the woman he had fallen with so hard, so fast. He wouldn't have a house to fill with their own memories together. He wouldn't have someone special with him at the premiere tonight. He wouldn't have taken the little girl with him on a sneaky adventure to the park while the woman he loved was napping on the couch. He wouldn't have his own little family so for that, he was grateful.

"Down!" Briar decided when she swung back to him, her eyes locking on the slides and large play structure not too far away. Of course, she would want to climb on something while she was there. Henry stopped the swing's motion and unfastened the little girl, her feet barely touching the ground before she was sprinting off again toward the slides.

Henry chuckled to himself at the little girl's excitement, sitting down on a nearby bench to keep watch as she played. She was a little ball of energy, climbing the ladder to the slide and going down head first, giggling the entire time. She zipped across the play yard, climbing the large structure in the middle and going down the curly slide on one side. Henry settled back into his seat as he observed, silently patting himself on the back. She would be too worn out to throw up a fuss for the babysitter when they had to leave later. He just hoped Faye was feeling better by then. He would hate to drag her out for something this important when she felt unwell.

Her stunning dress had been delivered just two days ago, her face lighting up when she caught her first glimpse of it. Henry knew she would look beautiful in it. He also had the feeling she would look even better when he took it off later that evening. The couple had wasted no time in christening every surface they possibly could. Their bed, the bedroom wall, the shower, the vanity, the couch, the kitchen counter, the table. Everywhere they could possibly get to and not wake the baby was fair game.

Between moving, and the premiere, he also had his mother's birthday coming up. That was something he needed to remember to tell Faye about. It had somehow slipped his mind with everything else going on. He had told his mother they would all try to make it out to see her for her birthday, but he had somehow forgotten to bring it up to Faye. Hopefully she didn't have anything else planned. His mother was really looking forward to meeting her.

Henry slowly scanned around the play area of the park, taking note of everyone else around. It quickly became apparent that all the other adults were women. Most of which were currently staring at him, quite possibly recognizing who he was. He really should have worn a hat to hide behind. Would that look weirder though? A random guy sitting on a park bench, hiding his face behind a hat, watching children play? Why weren't there more fathers out with their children? Sure, his own father worked a lot when he was growing up, but he always had weekends off, and he made sure to make time for his family on those days. This was a Saturday afternoon, shouldn't there be at least one or two other men around? His overthinking was making him more and more uncomfortable the longer he dwelled on it.

"PAPA!" Henry jumped up without thinking, his current train of thought instantly cut off at the child's scream. His eyes locked on her in a second and he dashed across the playground in four quick strides to kneel down next to the little girl on the ground who was holding her knee and crying. He was suddenly grateful no other men were around. It would have been really awkward for him to go running up to someone else's kid like that.

"Hey, hey, it's ok." Henry soothed, picking her up and letting her cry into his neck. "What happened, princess?"

"I... I fell do-down." Briar sobbed, clinging to him as he rubbed her back.

"It's ok. You're ok." Henry assured, deciding then was the best time to take their leave as many sets of motherly eyes had already locked on him, now hyper aware of his presence. This seemed to be quickly going from a fun bonding experience to Henry being turned into eye candy as he tried to soothe a crying child.

Briar had calmed down considerably by the time he had gotten them home, though he decided to continue carrying her anyway. If he had to guess, she wasn't exactly in the mood for walking. He tried to be quiet when he came back inside, hoping not to wake Faye and alert her to their sneaky adventure; it didn't matter how quiet his entrance was however, as Faye was already waiting by the door when he came in.

"Is she ok?" Faye asked softly, looking at the girl still clinging to him as though her life depended on it.

"I fell down." Briar sniffed, slowly reaching to her mother for more coddling.

"I bet that was scary." Faye soothed, taking the child in her arms and kissing her head softly. "Did you fall off of something at the playground or did you just trip?"

"Just trip." Briar mumbled, cuddling close to her mother.

"How did you know where we went?" Henry asked suspiciously, raising a brow as he began taking his coat off.

"Oh please, it's not rocket science. She's been begging to go since we moved here, you'll do anything she asks and the playground is in the direction I saw you two coming from. Busted, mister." Faye explained as she helped the little girl out of her coat and mittens.

"It wasn't sweeties before dinner this time." Henry defended himself, stealing a kiss as he reached beside her to hang up his coat, taking Briar's and hanging it up as well.

"You should have woken me up, I would have loved to have gone too." Faye pouted, slowly letting the squirming child down.

"You weren't feeling well, and tonight is an important night." Henry reasoned, resting his hands on her hips and pulling her closer.

"So you really want the babysitter coming here with everything still in boxes?"

"If I hurry, I can probably make the living room look livable. At least mount the TV or something. Possibly just set the iPad up on the coffee table and pretend that's what we use as a TV."

"Yes, because I'm sure they will believe that a giant geek ass dork nerd like you would have such a tiiiiiny little screen to watch his nerd shows on."

"Well I did find myself a small woman. Maybe I just really like little things." Henry teased, kissing the top of her head.

"Who do you think you're calling small?"

"You." Henry shrugged, kissing the top of her head again.

"I will have you know, I am not small. Everything else is just big."

"That's what you always tell me that every time we - ouch!" Henry chuckled, rubbing his ribs where Faye had poked him.

"That did not hurt."

"Well it didn't feel nice either!"

"We need to get the living room unpacked, come on." Faye insisted, quickly poking his ribs again and dashing off to the living room, Briar poking Henry's hip and racing off after her mother.

"Woman! You are teaching the baby bad habits!" Henry chastised, pursuing after both of them.

"I am doing no such thing! She needs to learn your weaknesses." Faye taunted, keeping the couch between her and her boyfriend.

"I already do whatever she asks, why does she need a weakness?" Henry laughed, slowly circling around one side, both girls skittering around to the other.

"One day you may say no." Faye shrugged, squealing when Henry reached over the back of the couch, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him.

"Now why would I ever say no to either of my girls?" Henry asked, cupping her jaw and kissing her softly.

"There might be an occasion." Faye reasoned, bumping her forehead against his, her other hand sneaking up to tickle his ribs again.

"Would you stop?" Henry grumbled, dragging her over the back of the couch and wrapping his arms around her tightly.

"I will never stop."

"Papa, no!" Briar gasped, running around to the back of the couch and grabbing her mother's hand. "Mama, come on!" She urged, trying to pull her free.

"Oh what, now you're on her side? I thought you were on team me!" Henry gasped, letting Faye be pulled from his arms.

"Gonna get you!" Briar giggled, attempting to tickle at his leg.

"Ok, now this is not fair!" Henry grouched, letting Faye go to snatch Briar up instead. "Two on one, really?"

"Papa, down!" Briar squealed, wiggling when he started to tickle her sides.

"Down? Now why would I put you down?" Henry laughed, jumping and barely suppressing a swear when Faye snatched his ribs again.

"Briar, I'll make you a deal. I'll let you go if you help me get Mama." Henry stage whispered to the child, setting her down and chasing after her mother when she darted off down the hall.

"Mama!" Briar cheered, chasing after the two, Kal now following the rest of the family to the kitchen.

"I know what you're planning, and it's not a good idea." Faye warned, slowly backing up to the counter.

"Oh, and why is that?" Henry asked, pressing up close to her, pinning her between his body and the counter.

"I'll tell on you."

"And who are you gonna tell? Briar? She's on my side now, remember?"

"Uhh... how about your mother? Would she side with me?"

"Oh!" Henry lit up, his mind jumping to another subject while he still had her trapped by his body. "That reminds me. My mum's birthday is next week, she's wanting us to come."

"That's a bit of a distance, isn't it? You have to factor in a toddler sized bladder into all travel plans now, my love."

"That is true. We also have to worry about Briar having to stop for restroom breaks."

"Oh, Mr. Somebody over here thinks he has jokes." Faye scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"We can fly there, it won't be as bad." Henry reasoned, kissing the top of her head. "She's really wanting to meet you two."

"Wait, she knows about us?"

"Faye, do you really think my mother wouldn't know about the woman I've been dating for the last ten months? We've moved in together, I think the people close to us are starting to suspect something."

"But I mean... does she know about us?" Faye asked, her eyes flicking down to the little girl trying to climb Henry's leg.

"She's excited to have another little girl to spoil. For some reason, us Cavill's just don't have very many girls."

"And she's ok with that?" Faye asked, fiddling with the hem of her shirt nervously.

"Why wouldn't she be?"

"I don't know. It's... a lot. It was a lot having you step in and step up like you did. It just doesn't seem like something a mother would want for her baby boy."

"I'm in my thirties." Henry snorted.

"Yes. You are over six feet tall, over two hundred pounds and over thirty years old. You are also her little baby boy."

"Briar, am I a baby?" Henry asked, reaching down to scoop her up.

"No, you Papa Bear!" Briar giggled, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"And there's also that. Since when does she call you Papa?"

"She just yelled it a the park." Henry shrugged. "Is it something we need to discuss?"

"Well I mean... if the shoe fits." Faye mumbled. "I just don't want her to freak you out."

"I've been acting the part for a while now, if it bothered me, I would have said something. We're a family now, Faye. You're stuck with me."

"Oh am I?"

"Yes you are. If you leave, I'm going with you. Right Kal?" Henry asked, looking down at the canine, his tail swooshing across the floor in excitement at being included in whatever was going on.

"So now I have three children to worry about?" Faye groaned, her head falling back in mock annoyance.

"It would seem that way, yes. One is very easy to care for, however. He can let himself outside and his food is on an automatic timer."

"I don't know if you mean you, or Kal."

"Alright, two of us then."

"Enough with the distractions now, Mister Sir. We have more work to do around here." Faye reminded, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and taking Briar from his arms.

"So, I'm going to unpack the living room and you two are...?" Henry fished, reluctantly releasing Faye from her prison.

"I'm gonna help Briar get her room the way she likes it."

"Her room was the first thing we did." Henry pointed out suspiciously, his eyes narrowing as Faye skittered around him. "Oh no, you get back here, Woman!" He called, taking off after them again, mother and daughter both laughing as Faye hurried to Briar's room. He caught up with the two of them just as Faye was setting her daughter down, quickly snatching his girlfriend up and playfully biting at her neck. "You are not getting away that easy!"

"It was worth a shot." Faye sighed, letting him drag her back to the living room where he promptly sat on the couch, settling her in his lap and resting his head on her shoulder. "This doesn't seem like unpacking." She teased, resting her head against his.

"Of course it is. We are visualizing how we want it to look." Henry chuckled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "What are you thinking?"

"Hmm... TV over the fireplace?"

"A solid choice."

"Coffee table in front of the couch. Side table over there. Briar's little table and chair over there. Probably put Kal's bed next to it."

"He'll lay next to her whether we put the bed there or not." Henry pointed out.

"True. How good are you at putting together IKEA furniture?"

"It is definitely going to be a job for another day." Henry decided, eying the few new pieces they had gotten for the larger living room.

"The toys should probably be near Briar's table so she's not tracking them everywhere. Kal's toy basket can go by his bed. We'll find a place for the pictures once we have the big stuff figured out."

"Sounds perfect." Henry agreed, holding her a little tighter when she tried to stand up. "Just a few more minutes of visualization."

"If you keep putting it off, it'll never get done."

"I'm not putting it off. I'm prioritizing physical contact with my lady right now."

"You just don't want to mount the TV."

"It's a pain in the ass to mount that thing." Henry groaned, looking at the still heavily wrapped TV leaned against the wall.

"It's your TV."

"And I did the sensible thing and paid extra for someone else to fight with it the second time I moved."

"We should have done that with all the furniture."

"Feels less personal, though."

"That's true. Now come on, big guy. We've got stuff to move around." Faye sighed, sliding from his lap and offering her hand to him to help him off the couch, not that he needed it. She would take any excuse she could to touch him, however.

The pair got to work, Henry doing the literal heavy lifting despite Faye's protest that she could move things on her own. They managed to get the furniture - minus the TV - in place; Briar occasionally popping in with a new snack every time, offering each a bite before scampering off again. Faye was putting Briar's toys in her toy chest while Henry went through the boxes, looking for any others containing toys.

"Oh, I found the bath toys!" Henry announced, holding the box up proudly.

"Oh, great. Briar's going to be thrilled when she takes her next bath." Faye sighed in relief. To say the little girl had been less than thrilled to have a plain no-toys-or-bubbles bath was an understatement. As it turns out, no more tears shampoo does not apply when the cause of the tears is from lack of toys.

Henry was putting the toys in the cabinet, down low where Briar would be able to choose what she wanted for herself, when he first saw it. It was a blue and white box with one particular word that grabbed his attention without even trying.

"Faye?" He called, his heart in his throat as he picked up the box, raising a brow at her when she appeared in the doorway, unable to force himself to form words.

"I haven't taken it yet." Faye admitted, seeming to shrink in front of his eyes, the words on the box staring accusingly at her.

Tesco Health Pregnancy Tests

Taglist: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay

[terrm9]

The Ray Women

Ethan and Chiara visit her family in San Francisco for the first time.

Set in the renovations period between Book 2 and Book 3.

This is the fourth part of the mini series The Couple & the Others. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 can be found here.

Words count: 4 200

Author’s note: The final part is here! I do not think I have much to say, other than THANK YOU to Ruby @starrystarrytrouble​ for this beautiful moodboard and for reading the last part back then!

Warnings: mention of death (it’s Chiara’s background, there is no way I could have avoided that), other than that fluff

Ethan let out a long exhale as soon as they stepped out of the airport hall and he felt the first rays of San Francisco sun on his skin.

There were several reasons why he never considered to leave Boston and its reasonable climate was most definitely big part of those reasons. Boston was... normal. Bearable. San Francisco was hot and the wind was barely there and the sun was too bright and-

He turned his head to look at Chiara and decided to snap his mouth shut before he could mutter something about the hell being colder.

Chiara, with the wide smile on her face and eyes closed, the whole face turned up to absorb as many of those annoying rays as possible, looked exactly as she should at the moment. Like she was finally home.

It was no secret that Chiara loved warm weather and complained about the one in Boston for the good part of the year („How does your ass not freeze in this damn city?“) and until this moment, Ethan didn’t really think about it. But now, the situation was reversed and only now he realized that he would most likely never agree to live in San Francisco, because he wouldn’t bear the heat.

And Chiara was undoubtedly dedicated to stay with him in Boston, even though she could hardly bear the cold.

„Why are you staring at me?“ she opened her eyes suddenly and tilted her head slightly to get a better look at Ethan.

Deciding not to get into discussion about weather and how it spoke volumes about the difference between them – especially not now, when Diana was about to come to pick them up any minute – Ethan answered with a statement that was not at all untrue.

„Because you are beautiful.“

Chiara let out an amused laugh at that and squeezed the hand she was holding, but it didn’t escape Ethan’s notice that her cheeks flushed and not from the shining sun.

The moment of silence and unspoken confessions between them was quickly interrupted by a delighted shriek coming from behind them and arms – bare arms that didn’t look bare because of the tattoo sleeves decorating them, Ethan noticed - wrapped around Chiara’s shoulders just a moment after.

„Alicia!“ Chiara screamed when she turned around and hugged her sister tightly, the moment lasting long enough for Ethan to absorb the only Ray he hasn’t yet had a chance to meet.

Chiara talked about her younger sister a lot ever since they agreed to visit San Francisco – or rather, she warned him about Alicia.

„She is wild.“

„Should that surprise me?“ Ethan didn’t even bother to look up from his medical journal. „She is your sister.“

„Oh no, you don’t get it. She is really wild. Alicia is the copy of my mother, the exact younger version of her. And she is... she is out of this world. The laws of nature do not apply to her. She is loud and gestures too much and speaks her mind too freely and she doesn’t walk, she bounces and she... she is wild, Ethan.“

And it went like this for weeks. Even the flight from Boston was filled with Chiara’s occasional „please do not be surprised“ and „it is who she is, it is nothing personal“.

Ethan met Diana once before, although the circumstances were so tense they both tried to forget it. Chiara was fighting for her life and the whole hospital was fighting to find a cure in time – and Diana flew to Boston, her voice shaking and eyes wide and she pleaded, begged Ethan to save her daughter because she wouldn’t survive losing another child.

Neither of them wanted the first meeting to be that way, but life had its own way in creating surprises and so Ethan knew that Chiara inherited her mother’s hair but not her eyes‘ color, he knew what her voice sounded like and that she loved her children more than life.

All that Diana remembered about Ethan from those three days she spent in Boston back in November was that his voice was soothing and calm while his eyes were terrified and just as pleading as her words and that he managed to save her little girl.

Chiara didn’t lie when she said that Alicia was a copy of Diana – her hair, just as Chiara’s – were the color of a summer sky seven minutes before the sun set completely, but unlike her mother’s or sister’s, hers were not falling on her shoulders in soft waves. Her hair were much longer, falling almost to her waist in dozens of dreadlocks. Several piercings on her face – her lower lip, her eyebrow and her nose – attracted attention and Ethan had to fight his sudden urge to ask her if the upper part of her body is hot and her feet are cold when he noticed her outfit, made of a tank top and high-waisted shorts combined with black leather boots.

She is barely 20, he kept telling himself, an obvious explanation of the difference in their points of view. And she is wild, as Chiara reminded him so many times.

„So you must be the famous Dr. Ramsey, huh?“ Alicia turned to Ethan so fast he almost didn’t manage to look away from her. „Nice to finally meet you... in person.“

She winked at Chiara at that, earning herself an annoyed glare from Chiara, something Ethan wasn’t used to seeing often.

„Ethan is just fine,“ Ethan nodded, shaking Alicia’s hand – as impossible as it felt, even smaller than Chiara’s. „It is very nice to meet you too, Alicia.“

Alicia didn’t even try to be subtle as she took Ethan in and he tried his best to hold her gaze, to not give her any reason to doubt him as the right person for Chiara.

Finally, Alicia sighed dramatically, the sound that startled Ethan visibly, as he had not a single clue of what that sigh was supposed to mean – did he disappoint her already?

„Mom was supposed to pick you up but she had some work to finish in the atelier, so she sent me.“

She turned on her heel at that and without sparing as much as another glance, led the couple to her car.

And saying that Ethan was nervous would be an enormous understatement.

*** *** ***

Whether Alicia set up some kind of test on Ethan and he passed or she was just trying to make him feel uncomfortable – knowing rather well that nobody else would – and it stopped being fun, Ethan didn’t know. He knew, however, that there was no trace of tension or hostility in Alicia’s behavior from the moment they stepped into the house.

By the time Diana came home and joined them, Ethan has seen the whole spectrum of Chiara’s annoyed glares, along with her embarassing teen-years photos and love letters she wrote to Milo Ventimiglia when she was eleven, believing that he would read them one day.

„She‘s always had a thing for older men,“ Alicia winked at Ethan at some point and part of him wanted to feel embarassed, but it took one look into Chiara’s diary filled with Keanu + Chiara or Chiara Reeves notes and yes, Alicia was right.

Chiara has always had a thing for older men. (And he should be glad.)

Sitting in a cosy living room, Ethan didn’t feel uncomfortable, not in the slightest. He felt welcomed and overly happy that he finally had something to tease Chiara with in return.

The room was bright and filled with so many photos, Ethan felt like in an art gallery for a moment. There were pictures on the ledge of a fireplace, on the walls and on every shelf. Pictures of babies and toddlers and kids, all with the same red hair and wide smiles; wedding pictures of Chiara’s parents; pictures of a man Ethan never got to know but recognized in an instant, the greenness in his eyes so well imprinted to Ethan’s mind, as Dorian’s oldest daughter was the only child to inherit the colour.

Pictures of a happy family, of a family Ethan so long wished to have and that was took away from him at the age of eleven. With an ache squeezing his heart, he realized that Alicia was barely thirteen when the happiness of their family was taken away from her. Just a child, just as he was all those years ago.

„Dorian would love to talk to you, if he was here,“ Diana smiled at Ethan, breaking his thoughts.

„He would?“

„I am sure,“ she nodded, the smile not – never – leaving her face. „He always missed a rational brain in this house – I am an artist with my body and my soul, my head always somewhere far away, ignoring the basic laws of this world. He would be so delighted to talk about science and medicine with you and I am sure by the end of your stay, he would just nod and nod and say „A good man, this one“, without even trying to give you the typical talk about his precious daughter deserving only the best,“ she laughed at that and Ethan tried to laugh too, but the lump in his throat made the task impossibly hard.

It has been seven years in which the Ray women had to learn to live their lives without Dorian and Liam, but the way they talked about them today, with so much love and gratitude, it made Ethan feel as if they never truly left the house.

„Yes, and I would just ask him something like Dad, aren’t you gonna fight for me?, and he would just laugh and tell me that he didn’t buy Dr. Ramsey’s book all those years ago just to scare him off now,“ Chiara chuckled.

After exchanging some more stories of Chiara’s childhood, Diana decided to start cooking a dinner and just as she was leaving the room, she said: „You kids stay here and catch up some more,“ which was an innocent statement, truly, but it left Ethan feeling rather awkward – was he supposed to leave with her or did she count him as a kid too? Considering the fact that his age was closer to Diana’s than Alicia’s, he could hardly be sure about anything.

In the end, he stayed with the sisters that seemed like they were not physically capable of not talking, the only moment of silence falling over the room when Alicia left to make them all a coffee.

But it didn’t last long and for a moment Ethan wondered if Chiara has talked that much naturally and only learned to control herself around him.

Was he changing her personality?

„I met Marc the other day,“ Alicia spoke again while handing Chiara her coffee, her tone light.

Ethan felt his jaw tense at the mention of Chiara’s ex boyfriend name and despite himself, he held his breath while waiting to see Chiara’s reaction.

„You did?“ Chiara asked with her eyebrow raised, sipping the hot beverage slowly. „How is he?“

„Handsome as always,“ Alicia smirked, sighing dramatically again. At this point, it didn’t even startle Ethan anymore. „He still looks like Harry Styles with those long hair.“

Ethan has never heard the name Harry Styles before but seeing Chiara’s amused grin and the way she just playfully bumped Alicia’s shoulder with hers – and that was the only reaction she gave away at Alicia’s description of her handsome ex – Ethan slowly, subtly took his phone out of his pocket and seeing that the Ray sisters paid him no attention, he decided to do his research on who the famous Marc resembled.

Harry Styles was... young. And rather good looking. With the dark hair and bright eyes, it would be easy to say that Chiara had a type (if Marc really look like that), but that was not enough to calm down that weirdly uncomfortable feeling that tried to raise up his throat.

Marc was as old as Chiara and it was no secret that even all those years after the break-up, the two were rather friendly. And he looked like this Harry Styles guy.

As much as Ethan hated to admit it, there was a name for that feeling, the name known to him but no, he was not-

He shouldn’t feel jealous of Chiara’s ex.

But Marc was young and handsome and did Chiara feel the need to talk less around him, less than she wanted? Did Chiara feel that need with Ethan?

This was stupid, Ethan knew. Chiara chose him and that should have been enough.

But Marc probably didn’t hate San Franciso’s weather as much as Ethan did.

Ethan became so lost in his own stupid, not at all rational thoughts, that he didn’t notice how Chiara left the room to help Diana in the kitchen. He only noticed Alicia’s intense gaze on him, amused smirk on her lips and maybe there was a trait that both Ray sisters carried proudly, maybe Alicia’s ability to observe was just as great as Chiara’s and maybe – probably – she knew exactly what was on Ethan’s mind at that moment.

*** *** ***

„So what do you say?“ Chiara couldn’t help but ask the moment she closed the door.

It was not that she wanted her mother to tease or test Ethan, but was her family really giving up on her so easily? Were they all just ready to give Ethan their blessings and wishes of luck with Chiara, without as much as making sure his intentions are pure?

It was not fair towards him, she knew. Alan has been nothing but kind and exceptionally nice to her, always. And Bryce did make Ethan sweat at the stupid brunch all those weeks ago.

Still, she just wanted to see him flush and stutter. Just once. Just for fun.

"He is as handsome as the pictures you have been sending," Diana grinned at her oldest child over her shoulder. "Maybe even more in person."

"You know that is not what I am asking," Chiara whispered, not wanting Ethan to hear the conversation. It was not that she didn't agree with her mother, but anyone could appraise Ethan's good looks. And Diana was not anyone - her opinion mattered to Chiara more than she'd like to admit.

"I know Ethan is a great man for you, darling. He makes you smile so much I can see these little wrinkles around your eyes," Diana gestured at the corner of Chiara's right eye, too close for Chiara's liking considering she was holding a knife in her hand. "For so long I have only seen dark circles around them. Anyone who can make you this happy is more than welcome in our family."

Chiara exhaled softly and watched her mom cut the vegetables, mulling over her next words in her head.

Before she could decide on what to say next, however, Diana smirked and spoke again.

"Not that I was worried. I spoke to Bryce few weeks ago. About you and Ethan. And he made it clear that your relationship is one he approves of."

„You did what?“

It shouldn’t surprise her, she knew. Bryce and Diana called each other so often at this point, Chiara was pretty sure Bryce asked Diana for an advice before his own date last time he went on one.

„Yes, he called me after that lunch you all have had back in December? Or was it January? I am not sure, but it was the first time Ethan joined you and your friends.“

That damn brunch.

„He called you to let you know that he roasted Ethan already and so that you do not need to do that?“ Chiara chuckled, putting her question as a joke.

„Exactly!“ Diana exclaimed happily and unlike her child, she was not joking.

„And you just... believe him?“

Diana shrugged, turning to Chiara wholly now, her smile only partly amused. Mostly soft and affectionate.

„You know I love Bryce as my own kid. I know you love him as your own brother. Has Bryce ever hurt you?“

Chiara shook her head without any hestitation because no, no matter how many people did hurt her – Ethan included – Bryce never did. Never.

„He wants you to be happy and he would never let you date anyone who wouldn’t make you so. And I wouldn’t either. Ethan makes you happier than I have ever seen you, Chiara, and that is all a mother needs. For her children to be happy.“

Not needing to hear more, Chiara wrapped Diana in a tight hug, tears threatening to fall from her eyes.

„And he looks damn good, too,“ Diana whispered into her hair before any of them could start to cry.

*** *** ***

Ethan was standing at the desk in Chiara’s old room, smiling softly at yet another photo of a wide-eyed, smiling redhead child with a hefty book in her hand. The plan for the second day of their visit was to see all of Chiara’s favorite spots in the city.

„Uhm, Ethan?“ Chiara’s voice resounded from behind his back and it was the unfamiliar hitch in it that made Ethan turn around rapidly to face her.

„Yes?“

„I... this is stupid probably and I will totally get it when you won’t want to go but, uh,“ she took a deep breath, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides, tension around her almost visible.

„There is one place I want to go to before we start the day and it would mean so much to me if you wanted to go with me but it is probably very morbid from me to want you to go and-„ the words left her mouth at such crazy pace they almost sounded like one very long word instead.

And suddenly, it became very clear what she was trying to say, even though she didn’t know how to go on.

With two steps Ethan closed the gap between them and gently put her hair behind her ear.

„Let’s go,“ was all he whispered before taking her hand and letting Chiara lead their way.

 Chiara asked Ethan to give her a few minutes of solitude with her dad and brother and left him to stand under the huge oak tree while she sat down slowly, gently in front of the grave she used to visit every day.

For a long moment, she didn’t even know what to say, how to start. If at all.

She just kept staring at her crossed legs, letting the tears to fall freely.

How could it be that she had the privilege to have eyes to stare with and legs to stare at, while the mere privilege to be alive was taken away from them?, she wondered.

„Hi dad, Liam,“ she spoke at last, her voice just above a whisper.

Ethan didn't want to eavesdrop. It was not polite, not appropriate, it was invading Chiara's privacy.

It was also impossible not to do.

The place was small and quiet and the three he was standing under was too close to the place Chiara was sitting at and what was he supposed to do, sing? Whistle?

That would hardly be any more appropriate.

And so he heard everything Chiara said and he was sure he was not meant to hear any of that.

„Ethan is here with me,“ he heard her say. „I wanted you to finally meet him. I know the last time I was here, I was not overly happy about him, but he got back from the jungle and he is forgiven. So could you forget how I called him an utter asshole and just... be nice?“

Ethan’s whole body tensed and a regret washed over him like an icy shower. He couldn’t be anything but ashamed by the fact that Chiara already shared him at this place and that she probably hated him at the time.

„You would love him, dad. He is so smart, like, genius smart. As smart as you were. And he respects me more than anyone has ever respected me before. You always said that if the man does not respect my career, he does not deserve me, dad and if that is true, then nobody deserves me as much as Ethan.“

He heard her chuckle and there was a long moment of silence before she spoke again and with some kind of internal terror Ethan realized that he didn’t even try to stop hearing what she was saying anymore.

„And I am sure you would like him too, Liam. He is a great target of jokes and teasing.“

Another silence.

And then Chiara said something Ethan so desperately wished he hadn’t heard, something that made him hate himself for listening and even more for what he heard and he just wanted to run away, far away and hate himself in hiding.

„You know... I cannot say this to him, because he is not very keen on this kind of things and I don’t want to scare him but guys, I love him so much.“

*** *** ***

Chiara didn’t know how many times she thanked Ethan that he visited the cemetery with her, but she was sure it was not enough to express how grateful she was.

The least she could do was to make sure that their next stop would be her absolutely most favourite coffee shop in San Francisco and Ethan would get his morning coffee just the way he liked it.

Something was off, however. Ethan was extremely quiet the whole time and even though she was used to his moods at this point, it surprised her here, today. It was kind of their vacation, their free time, something they both so desperately craved.  

Chiara could see that he was lost in his thoughts, brows furrowed and his gaze pointed somewhere behind the window. And doubts started overtaking her, because of course it was too much to take him to meet her dead father and brother. It would be too much for everyone.

Before she could decide on how to apologize for dragging him there, Ethan beat her to it and spoke first, although his gaze was still pointed elsewhere.

“I must apologize.”

Only then he turned to her and her confused raised eyebrow was the push he needed to finish the thought.

“For-“ he stopped, biting his cheek, mulling over his next words and by the expression on his face, even those he speaks next are not the ones he wished to find. “For making you feel like you cannot express yourself when you are with me.”

“Oh?” Chiara shook her head slightly, her confusion growing even bigger at the odd statement.

Ethan exhaled, suddenly aware of the place being rather empty. There were no groups of teenagers, no kids, nobody that would muffle his words and his wild heartbeat.

“I overheard some of the things you said to your dad back then,” he admitted slowly, softly, quietly and he was not proud of himself for not even trying to not to overhear it.

The confusion in Chiara’s eyes was quickly replaced by comprehension and just after that, panic.

“Oh,” this time, the sigh that left her was full of understanding.

It all clicked now. It all made sense and Chiara so desperately wished it didn’t, because she loves him and he heard and now he is scared.

She tried to come up with a response that would make everything make sense, her head starting to hurt from the pressure she put on her brain to just come up with something, damnit.

Chiara opened her mouth several times without any sound leaving it and she was internally panicking and Ethan was not even looking at her.

 Until suddenly he was.

“I love you too,” he blurted out, the words a little bit slurred.

The third “oh” that left Chiara’s was so soft, had there been the teenagers or the kids, Ethan would have missed it. But he didn’t.. He heard it and it took all of the air of his lungs away, because it was almost nothing, mere two letters and yet they carried such meaning it made his throat tighten.

“You do?” she whispered at last.

“Yes, I do.”

“And it doesn’t scare you?”

“God,” Ethan laughed, pulling her closer to him and putting a long, lingering kiss on her forehead. “It scares me more than anything has ever scared me before.”

Chiara laughed softly, her warm breath tickling Ethan’s neck and she pulled away just enough to tilt her head and look at him and in her eyes, those emerald greens, so warm, so soft, so beautiful, Ethan saw more than Chiara could say at the moment, in those depths he saw that this woman, his Chiara, his light, loved him more than anyone has ever loved him before and it warmed his chest in a way he didn’t recognize and it was that moment when he knew.

There was one thing that scared him more than love. Than being loved and loving Chiara.

Losing Chiara.

And he knew it then, he knew he would fight his fears of that unknown warm feeling every day, every second of those days until it didn’t scare him anymore, because losing Chiara was not an option. Not anymore, not ever.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Harringrove April Day 16- Nostalgia

On just about every flat surface in their mansion, Steve’s mother had put out some fancy Tiffany light fixture.

Steve’s room was the only place in the whole house he got to have any day in the interior design, and his lamp, well it didn’t quite have a stained glass shade, or ornate detailing to fancy up the mansion, his happens to be an old nursery lamp from when he was six and still had a themed bedroom.

At the peak of his too cool for school teenager bullshit, he’d attempted to throw it out, sent it away to the curb with a bag of stuffed animals he claimed he didn’t need anymore, but the very same night he started having nightmares again, so he scrambled to get it back before the raccoons found it first.

That dusty old lamp had saved him from countless nights spent awake and terrified, and he wasn’t one to say he was ashamed of that.

Except, now Billy Hargrove, the pinnacle of badass, is in his room, and there it is, still plugged in on the nightstand.

Of all things too, it couldn’t have just been a generic race car lamp or something he could play off as not really being for kids, it had to be stupid Bambi.

There’s a story behind it, that when he was a toddler, his first venture out of Indiana was to go see his gramma over in Maryland, and, after one look at his big brown eyes and his fluffy brown hair, she immediately nicknamed him Bambi.

After that the name just sort of stuck with him, his parents using it when they wanted on his good side, to make up for forgetting his birthday, or as an apology for leaving him alone so long the babysitter left, so of course his mom thought it would be adorable if his bedroom was themed around it.

Somewhere in a dusty corner of the attic, he still had the curtains and the quilt and the wall hangings, and under his bed was a pillow embroidered with his name and a picture of the clumsy cartoon deer made by his gramma. And of course, there was the brightly shining lamp.

He would never admit that he kept them there for when he was at his most frightened, clutching the pillow to his chest during a nightmare, or wrapping the soft material of the tiny old quilt around his shoulders when he felt an imaginary pair of eyes watching him.

Because Steve had seen some shit, he felt that after witnessing a ten-foot tall faceless monster come through the ceiling and try to kill him, and having a herd of baby versions of that same monster charge at him with nothing but a baseball bat to protect himself and a group of defenseless children, he had earned the right to use a damn nursery lamp in his bedroom.

But, that ass-backwards swell of pride at still using his childhood comfort items at 19 years old is definitely crushed by the fact that, after being in his room for a grand total of five minutes, that’s immediately what Billy drifts to.

A drunken apology at a New Year’s party might have made up for the concussion and proved he was probably not going to beat his face in again, but it didn’t change the fact that he was in Steve’s bedroom with the edge of the printed lampshade pinched between his fingers, and a contemplative look on his face.

It was a little while after their truce was reached, that Billy just started showing up at the Harringtons’ door unannounced. Sometimes it was to borrow Steve’s first aid kit. Sometimes he’d steal some of his weed. Once he’d come over just to watch something on Steve’s TV. Whatever his reason, Steve had let him in every time.

In this particular instance, it had been Steve who had called Billy, because he had a math project and an essay due first thing tomorrow morning, and Nancy was too busy to help him.

At first he’d considered just not getting the work done, but he decided Billy would do. He was smart enough that the co-ed teacher in the math class they shared had begged him to switch to the advanced classes, so Steve figured his help wouldn’t be so bad.

But his desk where all of his school stuff is is upstairs in his bedroom, where he’s left out the dumb baby lamp, and of course that would be exactly what Billy goes straight for. Steve feels himself start to panic a little, unsure if he could trust Billy’s reaction, and convincing himself that Billy might beat his ass for being a fragile little fairy or something.

It never comes, Billy just sits down all casual on the bed next to Steve, pulling one of his legs up so he could cross it over his knee, and nods over at the lamp again. “Wish I still had something from when I was little.”

The weight of the entire universe is lifted from Steve’s chest, knowing that Billy isn’t going to tear his head off. He lets out a sharp breath he didn’t know he was holding in. “Yeah?”

Billy nods and looks down, fidgeting with the pendant he always wore around his neck. “My dad threw everything out. All I have is one little picture of my mom.”

Steve knew he lived with his step-mom, but had never even thought about what happened to Billy’s real mother. He realizes the pendant was probably a locket, the very one that holds the aforementioned picture, and asks “Can I see it?”

It looks like Billy has to think about it, as he keeps twisting the locket between his fingers, before he nods and opens it. Steve leans towards him, putting his hand up under it and holding it in his palm, straining to see the tiny, aged picture.

Even though he’s never seen this woman, it makes Steve incredibly sad, seeing her little face all worn out in that locket around her son's neck. He wonders if she was dead, or if maybe she’d lost custody for some reason, or if maybe she had just left, but whatever happened, when his eyes flicker back up to Billy’s face, the tears shining in his eyes and the way he avoids his gaze, he knows better than to ask.

Steve lets the locket fall and watches Billy snap it shut quickly, and he realizes he has no idea what the right thing to say is.

What he wants to say is that he’s sorry, for him losing his mother and having nothing but one yellowed and tear stained picture to remember her by, but that seems too much like prying, somehow not really appropriate.

Instead, he remembers what Billy said about his dad throwing his stuff out and says, “Your dad must be a real asshole, huh?”

Billy scoffs and blinks away the last of the tears in his eyes. “You’ve got no idea, Harrington.” There’s a long awkward pause, until Billy asks, “You know how I’m always coming over here with like, all kinds of shit wrong with me?”

Steve thinks he knows where this was going. “Sure.”

Chewing on the corner of his nail, Billy takes a moment to get his thoughts together, his eyes flitting nervously across the room, focusing on pretty much anything but Steve, mostly the picture frame behind him. “I lied. It’s not, like, fights or whatever I say. At least not with other kids.”

Steve himself was no stranger to conversations like these, he himself had to confess something of a similar calibre to Nancy, when they were still dating, because his father had come home from a business trip pissed off about something, and slapped him across the face just a little too hard. The sturdy silver ring that he wore on his middle finger had split the skin on Steve’s cheek, and he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse to cover his tracks.

Admitting to it out loud was one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, so he decides he won’t make Billy say it. Maybe they weren’t on the best of terms, only here to do homework or whatever, but if he was going to open up about this, he definitely wasn’t going to make him experience that same humiliation he had.

“Is it your dad? That does that to you?” Nancy hadn’t been kind enough to spare him, forcing him to tell her once that the scar he so proudly sported wasn’t actually from a fist fight with Tommy like he said, and he wouldn’t do the same to Billy.

In lieu of a response though, Billy sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his hands starting to shake ever so subtly, and Steve knows he’s got to keep pressing. “Do you need help? I can call the chief-“

“No.” Billy shakes his head and makes eye contact with Steve for the first time since he started talking. “Cops only make it worse.”

Steve could understand that, had tried once when he was about eight or so, with the assistance of one of the housekeepers, to call the police when his father twisted his arm so far behind his back his shoulder popped out of place, but they wouldn’t dare arrest a public figure like his father, especially not for a little corporal punishment. The first thing they’d asked was what Steve had done wrong, not why his father had felt it fitting to beat on his eight year old for a tiny mistake. He never asked for help again.

“Well is there anything I can do?” Despite their differences and the fact that he only called him here to cheat on his homework, he truly did want to help Billy. Something about repeatedly surviving horrific monster attacks made him a lot more protective of those around him, and now that they were over their dumb pissing contest, Billy was included in that too.

“Think you’ve done enough letting me into your mansion, unless that’s not good enough for your hero complex.” It was a pathetic jab, there was no bite behind his broken tone, and Steve would almost rather have him at his worst than see him so vulnerable and sad.

Steve tries to reason with him softly, “You know it’s not like that, Billy.”

“Do I?” Walls had been put up as Billy made his last ditch efforts to protect himself from being weak in front of Steve. “Cause where I’m sitting, it seems like you get off on charity cases like mine. You tryin to swoop in and save me, King Steve? Feed your ego so you can feel like the savior you were always meant to be?”

He was baiting him, trying to pick a fight so he’d push him away, Steve had seen it all before in himself and wouldn’t fall for it. “Listen. I just want to help you.”

Everything about Billy suddenly seemed to make a whole lot more sense. That whole part animal, tough guy thing was just an act, and Steve knew because he had done essentially the same thing.

Before Nancy Wheeler had taught him to be better, he and Billy really weren’t so different. He’d let high school bullshit bother him, beat up the nerds and fucked all the cheerleaders and mocked anyone lower than him on the social ladder like he was supposed to, but it always made him feel off.

In the end, it had been so easy to get him to the other side, to show him what to do instead, he supposed all he needed was a little push to help him actualize what he already believed.

And then it hits him, in that moment, that this was Billy’s push in the right direction. That he was Billy’s Nancy.

“I don’t expect you to tell me everything and I’m not doing this for me, just,” It became extremely important to him to not set Billy off, to say just the right thing to keep him on the right track. “my door is always open, Billy.”

At first, it seemed to have worked, Billy sat staring at the floor, his lip quivering as he mulled over Steve’s words, but, when he stood abruptly and snatched his leather jacket from where it was draped over the back of Steve’s desk chair, Steve knows he messed up.

“Where are you going?” He stands up fast enough to give himself a head rush while Billy shrugs his jacket back on and yanks the door open.

“Need a smoke.” That’s all he gets before the door slammed in his face, and he hears Billy's heavy boots stomping down the stairs and the sound of him slamming his front door.

He waits with bated breath and tears pricking the corners of his eyes for the sound of Billy’s car starting and tearing out of his driveway, but it never comes.

Still, he feels immensely guilty and selfish and stupid as all hell for not just biting his tongue. He should’ve just fought back, argued with him like was expecting him to instead of trying to be comforting like he was his fucking therapist or something.

Because this was Billy fucking Hargrove, stereotypical meat head bully. Why he even felt the need to help him, other than their similar upbringings and coping mechanisms, or the fact that Billy had obviously been reaching out, hoping for someone to care, was beyond him. Or maybe it really wasn’t, he knew exactly why, he just felt weak and stupid for trying, and especially so for failing.

Apparently he’d been so caught up in his little pity party that he missed the sound of the door opening back up, and didn’t notice Billy had come back until his bedroom door was open.

Steve was so relieved that Billy came back, that he hadn’t pushed him too far or fucked everything up, even if he reeked of too strong cigarettes, and growled at him when he came in, “Don’t we got fucking work to do, Harrington?”

They don’t end up finishing the essay. Steve was hopeless with numbers, and they were too busy goofing off, so the math project didn't get done very quickly. It was okay though, Billy wasn’t much help at all when it came to English anyways.

Steve walks him outside when he has to go, beating a curfew of midnight. He stops on the porch, immediately crossing his arms against the frigid cold of the night air. Billy stops too at his car, his fingers through the handle, and turns around, calling across the yard. “Hey Harrington?”

He hardly waits for Steve’s response, a quick “Yeah?” to tell him, “Thank you.”

There isn’t time for Steve to respond before Billy’s yanking open the door of his Camaro and backing out of the driveway, but he knows he’d still made astronomical progress tonight.

It makes him feel incredibly dumb, laying in his bed that night, illuminated by the warm light of that very same Bambi lamp and trying to put his thoughts of Billy to rest like he was some cheesy teenage girl, but he’s just happy to have found a friend, to have made a difference in somebody’s life, and he knows that on the other side of town, laying in own bed with his locket left open on the pillow beside him, Billy feels the same way.

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

After Each Midnight Begins A New Day

Extra #10b (chapter 3 of extra #10)

[Masterpost] [AO3]

Wei Ying and Lan Zhan have both officially arrived in their childhoods after their time travel array, now they finally get to see each other again <3

--

To the untrained eye, Lan Zhan knows he looks as stoic as ever. There’s nothing at all in his face or his utterly correct posture to reveal that he feels ready to fly apart from the rush of adrenaline coursing through him and the painful knife’s edge of uncertainty that leaves his fists shaking where they’re curled into his sleeves. He has no idea if he’s going to get what he wants or not and that’s a strange combination of exhilarating and frustrating.

There is, thankfully, enough to focus on besides his own roiling emotions to make them somewhat easier to ignore, at least for the moment. It’s Madam Lan’s first attempts at venturing out into the Sect for business that includes other Sects, and he is acutely aware of this. Her re-entrance into the Lan Sect has gone disastrously so far even after making her case to the elders that she has served her penance and provided two heirs for the Sect. But neither she nor Lan Zhan are discouraged. After all - few people understand the unbending rigidity of the current generation of the Gusu Lan better than the man who had been whipped nearly to death by the elders for the sake of ‘righteousness’ and the woman who had once died in captivity enforced by many of those same elders - and for painfully similar reasons.

True acceptance within the Sect is going to be a long time coming, but Lan Zhan is patient and utterly determined down to his bones to see it through. There are few things he can’t accomplish when both of these traits are put to use.

“Zhan-er,” Madam Lan says softly at his side now and he looks up to meet her eyes, full of warmth and fondness that still melts his heart, as he’s sure will be the case for the rest of his life. “Don’t be nervous. He’ll come.” If Lan Zhan were the blushing type, he might have at that. Living with his mother over the last year or so - ostensibly to be raised by her while in actuality to hide the truth of his condition and make plans to improve the future - has been better than he could have ever imagined. It has also, however, resulted in another person (besides Wei Ying) who’s actually perfectly capable of reading him in ways that make him feel unexpectedly exposed, and while of course he trusts his mother to be kind and understanding in her knowing of him, it’s still a strange feeling. He’s getting used to it though - he’s overjoyed to have the chance to get used to it.

He nods once and reaches up to take her hand as movement down the path from the gate becomes visible.

“Lan-furen.”

Lan Qiren’s voice is cold behind them and Lan Zhan doesn’t even bother turning to look at him. He only has eyes for the Jiang delegation making their way up the stairs, his eyes straining to find a hint of the only person from Yunmeng he cares about seeing. Lan Qiren’s surprisingly petty disapproval of Madam Lan is a familiar irritation by now, one not nearly as deserving of his attention as the possibility of being reunited with his husband.

“Grandmaster,” Madam Lan replies, utterly serene as if she can’t even hear the edge of anger in Lan Qiren’s tone. “You didn’t bring Huan-er with you.”

“He has lessons. It is not appropriate to bring young children to formal greetings.”

“Oh dear,” she replies so dryly Lan Zhan very nearly finds the will to look away from the Jiang Sect still making their way up the stairs to look at her and share in the joke instead. Almost. “I was under the impression that Zhan-er’s manners are so lovely already, he should get a chance to practice with others outside of the Sect. He’s been working so hard, it only seemed fair.”

If Lan Qiren has a reply to that, propriety demands he keep it to himself as the Jiang Sect representatives have finally drawn near enough to make casual conversation too difficult to keep private.

Lan Zhan does not crane his neck nor does he start trying to push his way through the gathered cultivators, but to be entirely honest that has more to do with his mother’s hand still wrapped around his than any thoughts of exhibiting proper behavior. For a handful of anxious moments he can’t help but take note of the fact that Jiang Fengmian is, oddly, not at the front of the delegation. The reason becomes clear when the cultivators part to reveal their Sect Leader trying and just barely succeeding to contain a wriggling toddler with as much dignity as one can muster when wrestling with – and losing against - an extremely determined child.

His heart feels ready to leap out of his chest and straight into his husband’s tiny hands, currently curled into fists in the front of Jiang Fengmian’s robes as he pulls and tugs at them, crying something about not wanting to be apart from him. He desperately hopes that it’s for show. If he has somehow lost his husband through this experiment of theirs of course he will love this Wei Ying as desperately as he ever has, but he won’t be able to keep himself from mourning for the version of him that he lost. Again.

“A-Ying, you have to let go,” Jiang Fengmian is pleading quietly as everyone goes still and the silence that descends quickly turns awkward for everyone who is not Jiang Fengmian and Wei Ying. Or Lan Zhan, for that matter - he couldn’t care less if they all just stare at each other in silence for the entire afternoon, though it would make for a remarkably unproductive first day of a discussion conference. That is, thankfully, not his responsibility anymore.

“Oh dear,” Madam Lan tuts again, but this time it’s much softer than just moments ago. “Jiang-zongzhu,” she calls and offers a salute, though she doesn’t release Lan Zhan’s hand to do it so it ends up a bit lopsided. “Might myself and my son be of some assistance?”

“Your -“ Jiang Fengmian’s puzzled look only grows as he glances down at him, no doubt wondering just who he and Madam Lan are and why they’re at the gates along with Lan Qiren to escort them beyond the wards. “Oh. Thank you. Perhaps. A-Ying?”

Lan Zhan watches with his hands clenched once again into tight fists and his knees tensed as if to run as Wei Ying lifts his head reluctantly from Jiang Fengmian’s shoulder to look down at him, his cheeks wet with tears and his eyes red-rimmed.

“Uncle Jiang,” he whines, sounding like he’s on the verge of beginning to cry again, but Jiang Fengmian can clearly see that as well and he hurries to try to soothe him.

“It won’t be for long, A-Ying, and you can have a new friend, just like A-Cheng and A-Li. Alright?”

Wei Ying sniffles and scrubs his face on his sleeve before he peeks tentatively down at Lan Zhan again standing there practically vibrating with the desire to drag Wei Ying into a hug and never let go. His mother’s hand around his is a gentle restraint but after a moment she lets go and puts a hand on his back as if to ‘coax’ him forward, though naturally he needs no convincing. Lan Zhan steps forward and he only manages to maintain a measured pace by force of habit, and because his knees are shaking so much he’s afraid he would trip if he were to move any faster.

When he reaches the pair he looks up and, after a moment, he holds a hand up as well as he searches desperately for a sign that Wei Ying is just putting on an act for the sake of their ruse. If he is, Lan Zhan can find no fault in it and an interesting mix of dread and deep-rooted affection tangle messily together in his chest. He can do some things alone to fix what went wrong the first time, but he’s afraid that what only he can accomplish won’t be enough to give Wei Ying - and everyone else - the gentler, more carefree life they had intended.

Wei Ying scrubs at his face again and hides in Jiang Fengmian’s shoulder for a moment before he starts wriggling again, this time with the clear intention of clambering down out of his arms. Lan Zhan lets his hand drop again and takes a step back to give Jiang Fengmian room to set Wei Ying down and he somehow looks even smaller like this, standing there hunched inwards and scrubbing at his face even as he reaches out to take Lan Zhan’s hand in his and hold it in a death grip.

Whatever the rest of the adults say over their heads is lost on Lan Zhan as he patiently guides Wei Ying to Madam Lan’s side, his heart hammering in his ears loudly enough to drown everything else out. Whether this boy is ‘his’ Wei Ying or not is utterly irrelevant in this moment. Wei Ying is Wei Ying, and Lan Zhan is utterly devoted to him in any circumstances, in any life they may find themselves in. And right here, right now, he has the chance to love him wholeheartedly from the start, and so he will.

“Let’s go home,” Madam Lan ushers gently, herding the two of them in front of her with careful hands on their backs. They leave the cultivators behind quickly as they take the path that branches off to circle around the main areas of Cloud Recesses and head directly for the residences.

They’re walking along a relatively secluded part of the path and Wei Ying’s sniffles have slowed when Lan Zhan glances at Wei Ying in concern as his hand somehow tightens in his grip even further. All the breath is punched right out of his lungs when he spots that achingly familiar mischievous smirk on Wei Ying’s lips and then, as if that wasn’t enough evidence, Wei Ying winks.

“Wei Ying!” Lan Zhan hisses and the three of them stop dead in their tracks, Wei Ying’s eyes going wide as he darts a wary glance towards Madam Lan still behind them.

“Lan Zhan?”

“Oh wonderful,” Madam Lan says, her smile so wide it warms her voice as well as her features. “That was quite a show, Wei Wuxian, I would expect nothing less after what Zhan-er has told me.”

“...What!?”

“Wei Ying.” Wei Ying’s eyes are still wide and beginning to look a little panicked as he turns his gaze sharply on Lan Zhan again. Lan Zhan glances around to make sure they’re otherwise alone before he steps forward to wrap his arms tightly around Wei Ying’s waist.

And just like that he’s got a Wei Ying-shaped burr clinging to him with every trembling limb, which Lan Zhan is certainly more than okay with.

“Mother knows,” he says as succinctly as he can. “It is alright, Wei Ying.”

“O-oh, okay,” he wavers. Lan Zhan holds him tighter and lets the rabbiting of Wei Ying’s heart calm his own.

“Missed Wei Ying,” he says quietly into Wei Ying’s shoulder and his husband laughs wetly.

Madam Lan delicately clears her throat and cautions, “I don’t want to break this up but we are still on the path, Zhan-er.”

“It’s okay Lan-furen,” Wei Ying is quick to reassure. Lan Zhan releases him with enormous reluctance when he tries to pull away enough to at least put his feet back on the ground. “I’m sorry, I just -“

“You do not need to apologize.” Lan Zhan has the absolute privilege of watching Wei Ying - so small, so cute - blink owlishly up at Madam Lan as he reacts to her affectionate soothing. She takes advantage of his stunned silence to continue. “You two have done the impossible, and I imagine it was as difficult for you to be apart from Zhan-er as it has been for him. There is nothing at all for you to apologize for.”

Lan Zhan is alarmed but not exactly surprised to see Wei Ying’s wide eyes go shiny with unshed tears as he looks up at Madam Lan, his chin wobbling dangerously. Lan Zhan is, after all, well aware both of how deeply Wei Ying’s emotions run under his cheerful veneer as well as how difficult it is to keep such strong feelings in check in these young bodies not yet equipped for it.

“I know that you are technically a grown man and you are capable of a great many things I can’t really imagine, but may I carry you back to the Jingshi?” Madam Lan says next when it’s clear that Wei Ying isn’t going to be able to reply. In the fraction of a second it takes Lan Zhan to blink Wei Ying practically flings himself across the space between them and Madam Lan hurries to scoop him up and put him on her hip, where he immediately burrows into her shoulder like he had been doing with Jiang Fengmian.

Lan Zhan settles in at her side as they begin walking again, one hand stretched up to curl around Wei Ying’s ankle as a silent reassurance for both of them that they’re together again, that this time fate has, against all odds, been merciful.

----

If his companions were anyone else, Wei Ying would have never allowed himself to break down like this. But it’s Lan Zhan, and actually he’s pretty sure that even were Madam Lan not his mother-in-law, even had he not gotten some sort of understanding of her from the few soft recollections he had managed to coax out of Lan Zhan over the years, he still might have been this helpless in the face of the soul-deep kindness she wears openly like an extra layer of robes, warm in the chill of Cloud Recesses.

His relationship with Madam Yu is infinitely better than what it had been in his first childhood, but considering what that had been, that isn’t exactly a glowing endorsement. She doesn’t hate him at least. She is polite to him on occasions that are about half as frequent as her few gentle moments with her own children, but her corrections to his behavior and theirs are always similar. So far she also seems to be uninterested in comparing him to Jiang Cheng, which is truly all he could have thought to ask for, and he’s infinitely grateful for these changes.

But this strange sort of tentative truce with Madam Yu can’t hold the flicker of a candle to the understanding and kindness Madam Lan has already extended to him - he thinks it’s only natural that he would gravitate towards such a presence, even were he not related to her by marriage. For as much as Lan Zhan so clearly loved (and loves) her, his halting moments of extolling her virtues had not prepared Wei Ying for the truth of her. And, much the same as a year ago when he had first allowed Madam Yu to pick him up and hold him - he is still very small, though certainly not as tired as he had been then, and it feels just as wonderful now as it had then to be picked up and held by a mother-figure. No one will ever be able to replace Cangse Sanren and he will long for his mother for the rest of eternity, but he can soothe some of the ache like this.

They reach the Jingshi and Wei Ying doesn’t protest as he’s set down on his feet again, mostly because it leaves him free to turn his full attention to Lan Zhan, standing there in his little robes and his ribbon, appropriately sized for a toddler. He feels giddiness slip in where he had been feeling raw in response to Madam Lan’s kindness and he allows it to take over, to stretch his lips into an impish grin as he darts forward to smash Lan Zhan’s face between his hands.

“Lan Zhan!!” he can’t help but shout, an almost manic joy curling through his chest. He wants to hug Lan Zhan, he wants to run circles around him, he wants to squish his cheeks and gobble him up like a steamed bun. Lan Zhan accepts the full force of his unfettered excitement with his usual fond exasperation, standing still to let Wei Ying walk circles around him to poke him and pinch him and exclaim, “Lan Zhan you’re so cute!! Look at your little hands! And your cheeks!! You’re so small!”

That earns him Lan Zhan’s version of an eye-roll, which means Lan Zhan squints at him with his eyes that are still slightly too big for his tiny features, overwhelming and arrestingly adorable even as he narrows them and says, “Wei Ying is smaller.”

“Aiyah, I know isn’t it ridiculous? At least we already know we’re both going to grow up to be nice and tall. Oh! Lan Zhan!! Let me check your core. Do you feel okay? Any side effects from the array? Did it hurt? Were you scared? Has it been hard to get used to being so tiny? Does anybody suspect anything?”

Lan Zhan doesn’t even bother to try to answer Wei Ying’s rapid-fire questions, he just lifts his hands to pull his sleeve out of the way of his wrist so Wei Ying can press his fingertips to his pulse. The overwhelming strength of his core nearly knocks Wei Ying flat on his ass - not only has he maintained his previous level of cultivation, he’s somehow significantly stronger, and Wei Ying laughs aloud to feel the thundering pulse of it echoing along his own meridians before he withdraws his hand again.

“Lan Zhan you show-off,” he teases as he cackles. “You’ll be an immortal by 15 at this rate!”

“Not by 15,” Lan Zhan sniffs with a bit of disdain, but Wei Ying of course notices that he doesn’t deny that he will at some point stop needing to measure his age as he will simply…continue existing.

“We’ll see - do you do anything at all but meditate?? It feels like you’ve added years to it already.”

“Meditation is an acceptable activity when the Sect expects me to be taking my lessons from Mother.”

“Oooo so smart, Lan Zhan, I should have come up with a way to get out of mine. They’re so boring but I get to take them with A-Cheng so it’s okay.”

Lan Zhan, seemingly reassured that Wei Ying is done poking and prodding at him, chooses that moment to step forward and fold him into another hug and Wei Ying instantly melts into it with a sigh, his arms tight around Lan Zhan’s waist.

“I missed you so much, Lan Zhan,” he whispers softly, such a far cry from his happy yelling of a few moments ago. “I hate being apart.”

“Mn. We will not be so again.”

It’s pretty enough to hear but Wei Ying knows that they’ll have to part again eventually - when this discussion conference is over, for instance, and he’ll be expected to return to Yunmeng with Uncle Jiang. He doesn’t see a need to spoil their reunion with such technicalities, though. Instead he just tucks himself into Lan Zhan and lets himself be held for so long they only pull apart when his stomach growls.

“You need to eat,” Lan Zhan says instantly and Wei Ying laughs, a happy giggle as Lan Zhan pulls him by the hand over to a table and sits him down, a very determined look on his serious little face. And Wei Ying knowsthat they’re adults, they’re grown, they’re fathers - but Lan Zhan is so adorable like this! He can’t resist reaching out to pinch his cheek like he used to do to A-Yuan, which Lan Zhan thankfully allows with very minimal glaring.

“Oh dear,” Madam Lan suddenly laughs and Wei Ying jerks his hand back as he remembers they have an audience, and that said audience is his mother-in-law. “Zhan-er, I didn’t know anyone was allowed to pinch your cheeks. May I?”

“No need,” he harrumphs and retreats, cheeks and ears bright red, and Wei Ying laughs until he falls over onto his back, too relieved and happy to be back with his husband in their home to think about containing himself.

“Lan-furen -” he begins once he has finally composed himself a little, but she immediately waves him off.

“There’s no need for that here. From what I hear you’ve been family for quite some time, and this is just as much your home as it is mine. I believe such official titles are unnecessary here.”

Wei Ying blinks at that, unsure of what exactly he’s supposed to say to that. Thankfully Lan Zhan chooses that moment to return to the table with congee (Lan food, Wei Ying thinks with a mental sigh).

“You are my husband,” Lan Zhan begins with the smallest hint of a smile twitching in his cheeks as he says it. “She is your mother-in-law. Her name is..” Lan Zhan trails off rather uncharacteristically and Wei Ying instantly widens his eyes, eyebrows ticking up with open concern as he makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat. “Her name is Wen Yun. You should call her Yun-gu.”

Wen.

WEN?!

“Wen Yun?!” he yelps once his higher brain functions have marginally returned. “Wen?” he asks again, turning his shocked stare on Madam Lan, who looks as serene as she had before this earth-shattering revelation.

“Zhan-er has told me I have you to thank for providing protection for some members of my family,” she says softly and Wei Ying is unsurprised to find that he’s choking on tears again – he cries a lot these days both for show and simply because it’s difficult not to when his emotions run so high. “Your kindness and your sense of justice will not be forgotten, though I sincerely hope they will not be needed again for this purpose.”

And just like that Wei Ying is sobbing. With the Jiangs and now Lan Zhan returned to him, it seems it’s finally time for him to have the space to grieve for the Wens all over again. He’s done it before, of course - too many times to count. But it hits him anew that this time he hopefully won’t need to, he can save them too this time like he couldn’t before, and his mind suddenly floods with memories he’s been fighting hard for years to keep at bay for his own sanity’s sake.

Wen Qing brushing her slender fingers over the ropes and talismans holding her brother in one piece while Wei Ying had called for his wandering soul over and over. Wen Ning and his gentle face splattered in mud and gore in stark flashes of lighting, his lifeless visage suspended in glistening drops of rain each time the sky lit up. A-Yuan clinging to his legs too many times to count, calling him ‘Xian-gege’ and holding his little arms up to be held. Uncle Four and his wine and his hands so accustomed to farming after a lifetime of coaxing a living from the earth. Granny Wen’s gentle fussing over any- and everyone, her kindness and love for the broken remains of their family. The small cluster of aunties mending everybody’s rough, workworn clothes the best they could with needles he had carved for them out of bones he found while cleansing the planting fields.

“Shh Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan murmurs softly in his ear and Wei Ying becomes aware that he’s not alone, his husband’s tiny arms are wrapped around him and his forehead pressed to his temple. “They are alive, it’s alright. You will see them all again.”

It takes a while longer for the worst of his surge of grief to work its way through him but he manages it eventually. It helps that Lan Zhan – who by now knows well the shape of his grief - refuses to let go of him the entire time, his arms tight around him to hold all the broken pieces of him together until he can do it for himself again. Madam Lan for her part, simply watches and waits with the sort of calm patience Wei Ying has only ever seen in Lan Zhan and Lan Xichen. At least now he knows precisely where it came from.

“I’m s-”

“Do not apologize to me - I can see it in your eyes, ” she says when he can finally muster up the strength to speak. He snaps his mouth shut with a little click and leans heavily into Lan Zhan’s chest, suddenly tired. He has to say, that’s his least favorite part about being a kid again so far - he’s full of energy, full of energy, full of energy, and then all the sudden he crashes with almost no warning. His stomach is still growling though and so he frees one arm to reach out and dutifully start eating the congee Lan Zhan had brought him, his other hand curled tightly into Lan Zhan’s sleeve to keep him right there while he eats.

“We have to save them,” he says quietly when he’s about halfway through his little meal. “I don’t care what it takes. I failed them once, I can’t again.”

“We will,” Lan Zhan soothes. “We will make it so they do not need saving at all, they will flourish.”

Wei Ying finds that he really has nothing to say to that so he simply nods and snuggles closer to Lan Zhan as he finishes eating. He can’t keep himself from yawning widely almost as soon as the last spoonful is gone and Lan Zhan, being Lan Zhan, immediately bullies him up and over towards his bed despite Wei Ying’s laughing protests. In hardly any time at all he finds himself wrapped up in a little blanket burrito too tightly to move.

“Hey,” he protests weakly, already well aware that when Lan Zhan is in a mood like this there’s no swaying him.

“Rest,” he says in a tone that brooks absolutely no argument.

“You can’t really expect me to be able to sleep when I finally found you again,” Wei Ying retorts, though his argument would probably be more impressive were he not blinking long and slow and fighting not to yawn again. Thankfully Lan Zhan just blinks at him for a long moment before he clambers up to join him, laying down on his side facing him to press their foreheads together, the metal cloud in the center of his ribbon warm with his body heat.

“Rest,” he says again, his voice gentle and sweet. Wei Ying can’t help but smile at that, Lan Zhan’s cute little child’s voice, and he loses the fight against his eyelids (and the adrenaline crash) as Lan Zhan reaches up to stroke his hair back from his temple.

He’s not quite sure how long he sleeps for, but when something disturbs his rest it’s still light outside at least, and Lan Zhan is still laying with him with his eyes shut, though whether it’s in sleep or in deep meditation is impossible to tell.

“The boys are sleeping,” Madam Lan says softly. “A-Ying was tired when he calmed down and Zhan-er needed a nap as well, come back for him later.”

“Lan-furen I apologize for the intrusion,” a low voice replies and Wei Ying wakes up a little further as he recognizes it as Jiang Fengmian. “A-Ying has been very afraid of being apart from me since he learned of the discussion conference, I only want to make sure that he’s doing alright.”

“Zhan-er helped distract him from his distress,” Madam Lan replies smoothly and Wei Ying has to duck his head to hide his face in the blankets so he can giggle too quietly for anyone but Lan Zhan to possibly hear. “They’re quite taken with each other, thank you for bringing him with you. I understand that it is not typically done.”

“Thank you for offering to take him for the day. I didn’t think that word had reached ahead that we would have A-Ying with us, it was a…last-minute decision.”

Wei Ying has to hide another giggle as Jiang Fengmian so delicately dances around the truth, which is that the morning of his departure two days prior Wei Ying had clung onto his robes like a burr and wailed and wailed until he and Madam Yu had agreed that his separation anxiety was too strong for him to stay in Lotus Pier while Jiang Fengmian left. It wasn’t entirely a lie, anyway – he still struggled with having any of his family out of his sight for too long. He can’t help but fear that each time will be the last, though he’s getting better with it. He just…hammed it up a bit, just enough to be brought along.

“Oh I didn’t know to expect him,” Madam Lan deflects. “I wanted Zhan-er to practice greeting people he hasn’t met before, we were simply lucky that we were there and that they seem to approve of each other.”

“May I see him?”

“How long does he usually sleep when he naps?”

“A few hours.”

“Ah he should wake soon then. Alright,” Madam Lan allows and Wei Ying closes his eyes again to watch surreptitiously through his lashes as she lets Jiang Fengmian into the Jingshi. It’s…extremely strange to see the man in the space that Wei Ying very much still thinks of as his home despite having lived in Lotus Pier for the last year since the array. Perhaps ‘jarring’ is a better word for this collision of his past and present and…future?

He no longer knows how to think about time. It doesn’t move in an easy, linear fashion for him anymore. His past has become his present and yet he also longs for the things that he and Lan Zhan had left behind when they did this, the things that no longer exist how he knows them. He misses their son and their rabbits and everything that they had been sharing with each other since he woke in Mo Xuanyu’s body. He is a child of Lotus Pier, he runs and laughs and swims and plays with his siblings as any child should. He is the Yiling Laozu, he still remembers the screams of the dead and dying. He has nightmares full of blood and corpses, some of them friends, most of them strangers. He can usually ignore this strange doubling of his life, but here in Cloud Recesses with Jiang Fengmian, the face of Lotus Pier, in the midst of it, it’s…he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Whether it’s because he heard his mother talking, or he’s responding to the sudden tension in Wei Ying’s entire body, or perhaps simply because of lucky timing, Lan Zhan’s eyes flutter open just in time for Wei Ying’s breathing to grow a little too erratic as his heart pounds in his chest.

Lan Zhan nuzzles closer and sneaks a bare ghost of a kiss to his lips, soft as butterfly wings and nothing but sweet, chaste reassurance. As far as Wei Ying is concerned, it shows just as much love and care as every other kiss they’ve shared over the years and it works to remind him that at least he’s not facing this alone. Lan Zhan must be subjected to the same sort of confusion as well, living in their home with his once-long-dead, now-very-alive mother and reconciling the past he remembers with the present they had left behind to become their future once again. Or is it still their future when it won’t happen again?

Wei Ying has spent hours thinking himself in circles worrying over the same questions, his natural inquisitiveness unable to leave the problem alone even though he recognizes that answers to such things are impossible. As far as he’s aware, after all, this has never been done before. He and Lan Zhan only have each other to rely on in this, and while he doesn’t need anybody else it is sometimes disconcerting to realize that for perhaps the first time in either of their lives they are truly alone together against the world.

At least in this one way, he amends, because as Jiang Fengmian approaches the bed and reaches out carefully over Lan Zhan to run a hand through his hair Wei Ying is reminded that though his family will never know or understand what he has faced, they’re still his family. They’re still here. He and Lan Zhan can have their families back at least, even if their loved ones will never know or understand what has happened to them before.

He stirs as if waking and blinks one eye open to squint up at Jiang Fengmian with a little moue, bottom lip sticking out and a frown pinching between his brows.

“A-Ying, it is time to go to our own rooms.”

“No,” he pouts and wriggles one of his arms far enough out of his blanket cocoon to curl his fingers tightly in Lan Zhan’s robes. “Staying with Zhanzhan.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes narrow at him and Wei Ying just barely manages not to crack up at his obvious disapproval of the nickname.

“A-Ying –“

“Zhanzhan is my husband!” he declares and that earns him a wide-eyed glare from Lan Zhan that finally does break his pout into a wide grin. “I want to stay!”

“Oh dear,” Madam Lan tuts from behind her hand and Wei Ying is positivethat it’s to hide a smile. “I did say they were quite taken with each other. Children say such silly things every once in a while, Jiang-zongzhu, I am not offended.”

“A-Ying you are too young to marry. Lan-er-gongzi is not your husband.”

“My husband!” Wei Ying protests and he lets go of Lan Zhan’s robes to instead take his hand, and because Lan Zhan can’t deny him anything he wants he tangles their fingers together, turns onto his back, and sits up and look up at Jiang Fengmian with his solemn little face. Wei Ying watches him blink a few times and then give a decisive nod, slow and ponderous.

“Married to A-Ying.”

It takes everything in his little body not to burst out laughing at the utterly nonplussed look on Jiang Fengmian’s face – in fact he’s trembling with the effort of keeping himself mildly under control, though his grin has certainly crossed over into ‘manic’. He looks at Madam Lan halfway across the room only for her to wink at him and he loses his battle of wills. With all the renewed energy from his nap he manages to squirm out of the blanket Lan Zhan had wrapped him in to throw his arms around his husband and hug him tightly, squishing their cheeks together and looking up at Jiang Fengmian with laughter dancing in his eyes.

“Married to Zhanzhan!”

Jiang Fengmian sighs and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing at his eyes. Wei Ying has absolutely made himself known as a mischievous little sprite of a child over the last year so he’s sure that Jiang Fengmian isn’t surprised, but he’s also quite sure that he’s currently thinking of the propriety and stuffiness of the Lan and wondering just how he’s going to get out of this one. Wei Ying, of course, has no intention of letting this get swept under the rug like a standard childhood affection might.

“Lan-furen,” he begins, sounding pained as he turns around to face her, and Wei Ying takes the opportunity to sneak a quick, silent peck of a kiss to Lan Zhan’s chubby cheek as thanks for humoring him. “I apologize for imposing further but may I leave A-Ying here while I fetch Lan Qiren?”

“May I ask why you would like to involve my brother-in-law?”

“If you are…amenable, it is..not outside of our practices to arrange a betrothal.”

“Really? So young?” she asks and this time she sounds genuinely surprised. Wei Ying is less so as he is, of course, aware of Jiang Yanli’s betrothal to Jin Zixuan since their infancies, but that had been arranged by the close relationship of Yu Ziyuan with her sworn sister, not the choices of the children in question. The idea that a betrothal could be proposed for him and Lan Zhan based first and foremost on their affection for each other isa bit of a surprise, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“If you are opposed of course we need not pursue it, it’s childish fantasy on their part. But I don’t see a reason why we shouldn’t secure a strong allyship between our Sects. If the children are already fond of each other it may one day bloom into a good match.”

Oh Uncle Jiang you have no idea, Wei Ying thinks to himself with poorly-disguised glee.

“Married to Zhanzhan!!” he shouts, practically vibrating with the joy of the idea of being able to make that true literally as soon as physically possible. Of course he knows that that probably means they’ll have to wait until they’re teenagers at least, but that’s worlds better than how long he had made Lan Zhan wait the first time.

“No yelling,” Lan Zhan reminds him softly with a squeeze of his fingers and Wei Ying allows the correction with a nod as he lays his head down on Lan Zhan’s shoulder.

Whether Lan Qiren agrees to a betrothal now or later doesn’t matter. Whether Jiang Fengmian is willing to humor him now with the expectation that he’ll forget about Lan Zhan when they’re no longer in the same place together is irrelevant. What matters is that he has his husband back, and while he knows that he’ll have to leave him behind briefly to return to Lotus Pier, now that he knows they have an ally in Madam Lan he’s sure that he’ll be able to sneak Lan Zhan some letters, and receive some in return. And they’ll grow up together, and they’ll help everyone they can, and Wei Ying is going to get a lifetime to love him with everything he has.

[jaxsteamblog]

Momtara and Dadko

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

Content Warning: Suggestive Content

Zuko, as usual, woke up early in the morning. Katara recalled kissing him before he went on his run, but didn’t properly wake up until a few hours later. Normally, Zuko woke her up when he returned, so Katara was confused when her aide came knocking. 

After getting dressed, Katara walked into the dining room where Sokka, Suki, and the children were firmly entrenched in their breakfast. 

“Where’s Zuko?” She asked.

“He’s not with you?” Sokka asked, glancing up briefly before looking back down to continue feeding Lu Ten small pieces of bacon.

“Clearly.” Katara said dryly, taking her seat.

“Mommy, you are being mean to Uncle Sokka. You should say sorry.” Izumi said. 

“It’s okay.” Sokka said quickly.

“It’s not.” Katara said and sighed. “I have been mean. I’m stressed out and taking it out on you, which isn’t fair. I’m sorry Sokka.”

“I understand Kat. I forgive you.” Sokka replied.

“And I’m sorry Mimi. I shouldn’t have yelled at you yesterday.” Katara said, putting her hand on the top of Izumi’s head.

“I forgive you mommy.” Izumi said primly. “Now Kya.”

“I’m sorry Kya. I shouldn’t have yelled at you either.” Katara said, looking at her niece while stroking Izumi’s hair.

“Thank you Auntie.” Kya murmured, looking down at her plate.

“And Lu Ten!” Izumi chirped.

“What did I do to Lu Ten?” Katara asked, tilting her head down to look at Izumi.

“You left him out.” She stated.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Lu Ten.” Katara said.

Sokka picked up Lu Ten, thrusting the toddler over the table. Katara chuckled as she leaned across the corner to kiss Lu Ten. He, with his hands covered in greasy egg, grabbed onto her face as he kissed her back.

“Ew!” Kya and Izumi shrieked together. 

Katara leaned back, wiping her face off as the others started chattering once again.

“What did I miss?” Zuko asked as he walked in. Katara turned and was surprised to see him still in his running clothes. 

Then Hakoda, Malina, and Bato stepped in after him.

“Lu Ten got mommy messy.” Izumi answered.

“He seems especially skilled at that.” Zuko agreed. He walked to Katara and kissed her cheek.

“Good morning beloved.” He murmured.

“Kisses!” Lu Ten yelled. Zuko smiled and made his way down the table and around, going so far as to kiss Suki and Sokka’s cheeks. As he got to Sokka, he took Lu Ten from his lap and walked back to take his seat next to Katara.

“That’s very cute.” Malina remarked.

“Thank you. It was very weird at first; physical affection wasn’t something I was used to as a kid.” Zuko said, speaking easily enough to keep things from growing awkward.

“I can understand that! South Pole custom seems to be very touchy.” Malina said, playfully nudging Hakoda with her shoulder. 

“The first time I hugged Zuko, he thanked me and then shook my hand.” Sokka said. Bato sputtered out a laugh and Hakoda broke a smile. 

“Was he always like that?” Zuko asked, looking side to side for verification from the other South Pole members.

“As children, they were handled a lot. It’s nearly impossible to get toddlers through the snow when left on their own two feet.” Hakoda said. 

“Katara wore one of those wrap things when the kids were babies. Genius. I think I carried both of them all day sometimes.” Zuko said.

Katara snorted and everyone looked at her.

“One time, Zuko had Lu Ten in a sling during a financial meet and, in his sleep, decided to use his diaper.” She explained.

“Nothing is worse than potty training a child during the dark season in the South Pole when your bathroom is outside.” Hakoda interjected as the others were laughing.

“Paw-Paw, what was mommy like when she was my age?” Izumi asked.

The table quieted and Katara stared at her father.

“Well, I wasn’t around when your mother was five. I was fighting in the Earth Kingdom.” Hakoda said.

“You didn’t see her at all?” Izumi questioned with clear shock.

“Not for many years.” Hakoda said with a shake of his head.

“Sometimes I don’t get to see mommy for a few weeks when I live with daddy in the Fire Nation.” Izumi said softly. “It makes me sad.” 

“I was very sad when I couldn’t see my mom or my dad.” Katara said, putting her arms around Izumi and kissing her hair. 

“When I’m queen, I’m going to live here and I’ll be able to see Izumi every day.” Kya announced.

“What about me and mama?” Sokka asked.

“You can live here too if you want.” She conceded and Sokka scoffed in amusement. 

“Oh, why thank you.” He said and smiled over Kya’s head at Suki.

“I had hoped after the war, I’d be able to live with my entire family in one place.” Hakoda grumbled and Malina patted his hand. 

“Tell me about it.” Katara sighed. 

“Excuse me, your majesty?” A woman called from the doorway. Katara turned and waved the aide in.

“The Matriarch is waiting for you. And we just got confirmation that the ambassador has entered the city.” She said, angling a tablet down so Katara could see the verification. 

“Delightful.” Katara muttered. Then, speaking up, she tried to sound more cheerful. “Time to get dressed!”

More voices than she expected groaned in disappointment. 

The first meeting would be a quick, but formal, welcome. In the throne room, Katara had Hakoda and Dong-Lee take their seats first. Then, holding up the thick fabric of her skirt, she stepped up to the platform where her own carved monstrosity awaited her. Kya knelt on a cushion at her side, still on the platform above Hakoda and Dong-Lee. Politics were in everything.

The Ambassador was escorted in and he bowed in greeting.

“Ambassador Yi, welcome to our little oasis in Republic City.” Katara said.

Yi was a stout man, but younger than she expected. He was middle aged with a receding hairline, yet his face was fairly youthful. From his file, Katara knew he was married with three children, all a few years older than Izumi.

“Thank you, Queen Katara.” He said.

“You are here at the pleasure of Chief Hakoda, leader of the Southern Water Tribes, and Matriarch Dong-Lee of the Swamp Tribe.” Katara went on, gesturing with both hands to the other leaders. 

Yi bowed again.

“Thank you, Chief Hakoda and Matriarch Dong-Lee.” He said.

“And I would like to introduce you to my heir, Princess Kya.” Katara finished.

A third bow and Kya shifted uneasily.

“It is a pleasure to meet the princess.” Yi said.

“I know you have meetings with us separately, but did you have anything you would like to bring before the triumvirate?” Katara questioned.

“No, your majesty.” Yi answered.

“Then I give you your leave. I will see you at our appointed time.” Katara said. She stood and Yi bowed again, keeping his gaze lowered. The others stood and left, exiting behind the platform before Yi made his way back the way he entered. 

Such rituals made Katara feel stiff and irritated; she’d be taking her lunch with the man in a few hours while wearing pants. All of the preceding pageantry struck her as unnecessary. 

“He seems agreeable.” Dong-Lee said.

“Well, be careful, he’s from the Upper Ring. There’s been a lot of chatter about pruning the swamp.” Katara said.

Dong-Lee scoffed. “As if the swamp would let anyone do such a thing.” 

“Are all the meetings going to be like that Auntie?” Kya asked, tugging hard at the neckline of her dress.

“Not all of them, no. But enough of them to make you grumpy.” Katara said and Kya groaned loudly. 

“How does Izumi do it?” Kya whined.

“She’s a lot like her father I suppose. They were born into it.” Katara remarked lightly. Kya groaned again and Katara laughed. 

“I wish Thuy was here.” She muttered.

Katara only nodded.

Ambassador Yi met with Hakoda and Dong-Lee prior to lunch, talking about his goals for his appointment and the technical aspects of the placement. The lunch was far more casual, and Yi brought his family. Dong-Lee was attended by her brother and two children, while Malina came along with Hakoda. The rest of Katara’s royal family bustled in and the large table on the veranda was bursting with activity. 

Yi and his family were patient through the introductions, though Katara promptly forgot the names of everyone with him. Zuko had a better mind for names and she would have to ask him about it later. 

“Ambassador, I’d like to introduce my consort, Fire Lord Zuko.” Katara said, gesturing to Zuko. Yi and his family all gave a hasty Fire Nation salute while Zuko only smiled, holding Lu Ten at his hip. 

“Forgive me,” Yi’s wife said, sounding nervous. “But how should we refer to your Highness?” 

“Zuko is fine.” He replied and the blood drained from her face. 

Katara made a tsk sound and swatted his arm lightly. 

“Titles are very loosely held and wielded around here. We both prefer to be on a first name basis, but since we don’t have a family name, I understand it can be awkward.” She explained.

“I do think consort is rather fun.” Zuko said, smiling at Katara, who glowered back at him. 

“I was told the Earth Empire custom was a bit formal compared to the rest of the world.” Yi admitted.

“It was the same in the Fire Nation until very recently.” Zuko said. 

“I’d like us to be friends.” Katara said. “So I’d love it if you’d use our given names.” 

“That would make it easier to know when I’m in trouble.” Yi joked and Katara laughed. His wife looked mortified. 

Lu Ten started to fuss and Zuko started bouncing him.

“I think it’s nap time.” He said.

“Thank you.” Katara replied, offering her cheek as Zuko leaned in to kiss her. 

“Can we go eat mom?” Yi’s eldest son asked, tugging lightly on his mother’s sleeve.

“Please! This was meant to welcome you after all!” Katara said, shooing them away. Yi’s wife and children walked off, heading over to the serving tables.

“You have a lovely family.” Katara said.

“Thank you. Your’s is charming as well.” Yi said and rubbed his chin. “I hadn’t expected the Fire Lord to be so approachable.” 

“He’s a lot like his uncle.” Katara replied.

“Your son looks just like him.” 

“Oh yes.” Katara said with a laugh. “He’s a Firebender too.”

“But how lucky your daughter is just like you!” Yi said.

“Hmm?” Katara turned and faced Yi more purposefully. 

“I was glad you introduced her first, because my packet was incorrect. I thought her name was Izumi.” He said.

“Izumi is my daughter.” Katara said.

“My apologies. Is that her Fire Nation name?” Yi questioned.

“Yes.” Katara said slowly. “You misunderstand, Kya is my niece.” 

Yi’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“Then Izumi is not the Waterbender?” He asked.

“No, Izumi is a…” Katara frowned. “She’s not a Waterbender. Kya is my brother’s daughter. She recently came into her bending and now she’s my heir.” 

“So Izumi is…” Yi sounded panicked and confused.

“Fire Nation. Completely.” Katara said tersely. “She is her father’s heir.”

“I’m sorry. I am completely embarrassed.” Yi said in a hurry, bowing in apology. 

“I can understand the confusion. The inheritance law changed when I was crowned.” Katara said. 

“Thank you for your understanding, your Majesty.” Yi said.

“Of course. You should join your family, they seem to be waiting for you.” Katara said. Yi bowed again and walked to the table. Katara watched him for a moment before turning back toward the palace.

She saw Izumi’s face peeking from behind a wooden beam that supported the pergola. As their eyes met, Izumi darted back inside the palace. Katara sighed, a weight settling on her shoulders. 

Katara’s meeting with the new ambassador was awkward, but she merely questioned him about his goals. The Earth Empire was still gunning for drilling rights in the arctic, which simply wasn’t going to happen. They also wanted to expand their fishing and research waters, which also wasn’t going to happen. Those two points came up time and again, becoming chronic sores in Katara’s life. In the Poles at least, her people had learned how to live in harmony with the seas. They were also intimately aware of what happened when they tried to tip the balance in their favor. Seas could rise, ice could crack, and hungry things could see better than they in the night. 

After the business was concluded, Katara cancelled the debrief with Hakoda and Dong-Lee, pushing it back a day. 

She needed to talk to Zuko.

In their bedroom, Katara sat on the bed as Zuko undid his dress shirt. He never dressed down around politicians, despite his insistence on the given name thing. 

“Am I ashamed of our children?” Katara blurted as Zuko hung the shirt on the valet rack. He paused, his hands still on the hanger and slowly turned his head around to look at her.

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“Yi thought Kya was our daughter and I couldn’t just come out and correct him. It was so awkward!” Katara said.

“I don’t think that means you’re ashamed of her.” Zuko stated firmly. 

“Izumi heard me and she ran off.” Katara said.

“Did you talk to her?” 

“No.”

“We probably shouldn’t let that marinate.”

Katara groaned and bent over, holding her head in her hands.

“I am the worst parent.” She said.

“I think we can both agree that Ozai was the worst parent.” Zuko retorted.

Katara lifted her head, keeping her fingers splayed over her mouth.

“I’m serious.” She moaned and Zuko raised an eyebrow.

He brought both hands sharply up to his face, framing his scar.

“So am I.” He said. 

“I don’t even consider him a parent.” Katara said, falling backward onto the bed. “He’s a monster.”

“Fair point, yet he still is legally my father.” Zuko said.

“I think biologically too.” Katara added.

“Did you know Toph takes Lin and Suyin to her matches?” Zuko asked.

“What?” Katara asked, shooting her confused look up to the ceiling. 

“Lin caught a tooth before she even lost one of her own. It’s nuts.” Zuko said, sitting on the bed beside her.

“And?”

“And she adopted Jae-hwan, seemingly on a whim. No one knows who fathered Lin or Suyin, but Toph doesn’t care because they’d be Beifongs regardless.”

“I repeat, and?”

“And Toph is an amazing mother. Lots of people give her so much crap for simply being blind and having kids, let alone all this other stuff. None of us are perfect, but we’re doing our best. Our kids are great.” 

“I know that Zuko. But I don’t act like it.” Katara muttered, covering her face with her arms. 

“You’ve been really protective of Izumi about this bending stuff, but have you talked to her about it?” Zuko asked.

“No.” Katara said, her voice muffled. 

“I’m telling you, Izumi and Kya love each other. And Izumi is going to be Fire Lord, so it’s not like she’s getting shoved to the side.” Zuko said.

“So what about Lu Ten?” Katara asked.

“Who knows? The Fire Nation hasn’t had a good run with siblings, but Izumi and Lu Ten seem to be fine.” 

“Has there ever been a woman Fire Lord? Or a non-Bender?” 

“Well. No.” Zuko admitted. “But there’s never been a Prime Minister before either.”

“Obviously I don’t need to protect her, so why am I hiding her?”

“When Kya was born, you were so relieved. I thought it was because you were worried about Suki, but you were so anxious before Sokka texted. Then suddenly everything was easier and Izumi popped out two minutes later. I think Izumi was exactly what you wanted her to be.” Zuko explained.

“What do you mean?” Katara lowered her arms and looked up at him.

“She’s not named Kya, so you didn’t have to go through that. She looks like you when you haven’t been in the sun for awhile, and her hair is just like mine. I remember you talking about how much more manageable her hair was when it started to really grow in.

“And she’s not a Waterbender, so you didn’t have to put her through what you’re going through.” Zuko added softly. 

“But Kya’s going to be fine.” Katara said.

“Kya is going to have to live away from her parents more than you think. Sokka has a job in the Fire Nation now, remember? And Suki is still holding onto the flower shop for him.”

“I.” Katara cut off, not knowing what to say. 

“Sokka’s really anxious about this. He’s terrified of being away from Kya, because he hated being away from your parents.” Zuko said.

Tears welled in Katara’s eyes and she threw her arms over her face again.

“So not only am I a terrible mother, but I’m the worst sister and daughter too!” She wailed. 

“Katara, you know it’s not like that.” Zuko said, rubbing one of her arms.

“I hate that this happened. I hate how everyone makes these stupid choices without me and then I end up doing something terrible!”

“So it’s not your fault?”

“How is this my fault?”

“How is it anyone’s?”

Frustrated, Zuko stood up and walked back to their closet. 

“We talked about kids for years because we knew this was going to be hard. And Sokka and Suki could never have expected that their kid was going to be a Bender. And your dad didn’t go off thinking he’d never see his wife again, or that his children would grow up without him.” He said. 

Katara sat up, glaring at his back as Zuko picked out a new outfit. 

“So it’s me then? I’m the one making everything difficult?” She shot back.

“I didn’t say that.” Zuko replied.

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying this sucks!” Zuko turned around sharply, holding tight onto a t-shirt. “I hate being in Caldera without you for so long. And it’s pure misery when you have the children.”

He yanked on the shirt and rubbed his nose furiously.

“Honestly, sometimes I can’t wait for the children to be grown. Because then I can toss Izumi onto the throne and Kya can move in here and then you and I can finally be together, properly.” He laughed darkly and ran a hand through his hair. “But then I feel terrible because these are my children and I’m already missing out on so much.” 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten married.” Katara muttered.

Zuko advanced on her quickly and grabbed her arms, squeezing her hard enough to scare her.

“Don’t you ever say that.” He said, his voice low. “I would rather have died in the Agni Kai than even think you mean that for a second.” 

“Zuko…” Katara protested and he shook her once, softly but with urgency.

“Tell me to step down. Ask me. Order me and I would crawl from the port to your throne to become your proper consort.” Zuko said. “But don’t you ever think things would be better had I not made you mine.” 

“Stop.” Katara said brusquely, using her forearms to break his hold. Zuko grabbed her wrists, holding them up.

“You gave me your bed, you gave me children. And they are forever a part of me. But you are mine. Just as I am yours.” Zuko kissed her, loosening his grip on her wrists. Katara grabbed his shirt, pulling him onto the bed. 

~

“Do you suppose that was a healthy and loving way to handle our fight?” Katara asked, shaking her hands off in the sink. It was easy enough to heal the minor marks and Zuko examined his chest in the mirror.

“I would definitely say it was loving.” He said and then nodded at his reflection. “But we should probably leave out some details if we bring this up at therapy.” 

“What are you so angry about anyway?” Katara asked.

“I am angry, dear wife, that you are in the throes of your righteous fury while I’m also struggling but I feel like I have to hold everything together.” Zuko said. 

He had an easy way of talking that made Katara relax. Had it been anyone else, she would have launched right into a fight.

“I’m sorry I’m not being more supportive.” Katara said and moved behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing her cheek into his shoulder blade. 

“Like I said last night, I do understand that this is difficult for you. But I think you need to have a little faith and try letting go. Not everything has to be a battle that you win or lose.” Zuko held onto her arms and tilted his head back to bump hers. 

“Fine. So, as a wife first, what can I do?” Katara asked.

“Not much. Summer will be in a few weeks and you get to be Fire Lady again. I’ll be able to breathe once you and the children are in Caldera.” Zuko answered.

“Mom time then?” Katara said meekly.

“Mom and dad time. We’re a team.” Zuko replied.

They dressed and went to Izumi’s bedroom. Apparently, she had run there during lunch and refused to come out.

Zuko knocked on the door and called gently. “Mimi?” 

“Come in.” Izumi said, sounding despondent. 

Opening the door, Zuko and Katara hesitated before entering. Izumi was on the floor, moving her dolls around limply.

“Izumi, it is time. For.” Zuko paused with performative austerity. “The feelings wheel.” 

Izumi heaved a long sigh as she got up and shuffled to her small desk. Pulling open the center drawer, she pulled out a laminated piece of paper and went back to her spot on the floor. Zuko and Katara joined her, shutting the door behind them.

“Okay Mimi, you know the drill. How are you feeling?” Zuko asked as he and Katara sat down.

On the paper was a large circle cut into tiered segments. The wider wedges at the center of the circle were labelled with general emotions like “happy” and “scared.” Things got more specific in the thinner wedges radiating outward. 

Izumi pointed with a heavy finger to “sad.”

Zuko worked with Izumi through the process, getting her to be more specific about how she was feeling. Katara stayed quiet, watching her daughter’s face. She was surprised that Izumi identified “guilty” before ending on “ashamed.”

It wasn’t what Katara expected at all.

But she knew exactly how Izumi was feeling.

“Why do you feel ashamed sweetie?” Katara asked.

“Because I’m not Water Tribe.” Izumi said quietly. 

“Why do you think you’re not?” Zuko asked.

“Because mommy always says that I’m only Fire Nation. That I’m your heir and that’s it.” Izumi explained.

“Okay, that’s a valid reason.” Zuko said and Katara sighed.

“I say that because I know you’re part Tribal. I want everyone to know that you deserve to be your father’s heir regardless.” She said.

“Why would being Tribal be bad?” Izumi asked.

“Well…” Katara drifted, sharing a look with Zuko.

“During the war, the Fire Nation and the Water Tribe were enemies.” Zuko said honestly. “And a lot of people in the Fire Nation still feel angry about that.” 

“So they hate me?” Izumi asked, her voice quivering.

“Oh no sweetie! No one hates you!” Katara said in a rush. “It’s just, they may think being from the Water Tribe will make you a bad Fire Lord.” 

“Do you think I’ll be a bad Fire Lord?” Izumi asked Zuko.

“I think you’ll be the first good one.” He said. Izumi crawled onto Zuko, hugging him.

“You’re good, daddy.” She said.

Zuko hugged her back and kissed her hair. “I’m glad you think so, Mimi.” 

“Your father is a great Fire Lord, and you’ll be even better.” Katara added, patting Izumi’s back.

Izumi still clung to Zuko but looked over at Katara.

“So it’s okay that I don’t look like you or Paw-Paw?” She asked.

“Of course sweetie! And not all Water Tribals look like me. Some of them.” Katara stopped and took in a breath. “Some of them look like your Gran-Gran remember?” 

“And it’s okay that I’m not a Waterbender?” Izumi continued.

“Absolutely. Is it okay that Kya is?” Katara asked.

Izumi thought about it seriously for a moment and then nodded.

“Kya is going to rule the tribes and I’m going to be Fire Lord and then we’re going to take over the world.” She said and Katara sputtered.

“What was that?” She asked.

“Well Lu Ten has to have something and there are Waterbenders and Firebenders in the Earth Empire, so Kya and I are going to take it.” Izumi stated.

“You very much are not, young lady.” Zuko said, holding Izumi up to look at her. 

“But daddy, you said I could do anything.” Izumi replied simply. “And grandfather Ozai took over Omashu, my teacher told me so.” 

“Okay, we’re firing your teacher for one thing.” Zuko said and Katara gently pried their daughter from his hold. 

“Izumi, we’ll have to have a chat about why world domination is not a good thing, but do you feel better now?” She asked.

“Yes mommy. Can I have lunch?” Izumi asked. 

“Let’s go see what’s in the kitchen.” Katara stood up and held Izumi’s hand, pausing while Zuko stared off.

“Coming?” She prompted. Zuko shook himself and stood, looking curiously down at Izumi.

“Maybe we should hold off on introducing her to Azula.” He said.

Izumi lifted her head, her hazel eyes shifting in the overhead light. 

“I already know all about her. Auntie Ty Lee told me about her when we were on Avatar Island.” She said and then looked toward the door. Zuko, bewildered, caught Katara’s eye.

Auntie Ty Lee? He mouthed over Izumi’s head. Katara only shrugged.

She had her own family problems to deal with. 

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[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Rainbow

Prompt: have you ever heard the song rainbow by dodie? i just heard it for the first time and i cant think of anything except how much it makes me think of poor bb Merlin. if you're interested could you maybe write a little fic based on it or something? it basically just makes me think about how Merlin would feel the first time Arthur and the knights compliment him on his magic, which is something he's been so conditioned to hate and think is monstrous his whole life (':

Thank you for the prompt, babe!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none!

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2709

Merlin is magic.

The world doesn't like magic.

...does it?

The first time he sees Percival smile at him, he almost drops his bag.

 He’d barged into the armory, rubbed the wrong way from Arthur’s jests that had hit a little too close to home. Sure, in a few hours the prat would act like nothing was wrong or give Merlin some sort of soft look that would be an unspoken apology, but right now, he’s angry.

 Merlin angry is never a good thing, but it’s even less of a good thing when he’s got no one to talk to. His magic tends to…protest. A little. He’s gotten a pretty good handle on it over the years, but he’s not perfect.

 So when he swings open the door and the wooden boards decide now is the time to careen into a rack of swords, he barely glares in their direction before they freeze and sheepishly retreat back to their previous positions. He huffs and sets about getting the gloves mended.

 “Wish you could do that to the others.”

 He doesn’t want to say he jumps, because his feet never actually leave the ground, but…

 Percival isn’t paying attention to him. He just looks at the rack of swords, perfectly pristine, as if nothing ever happened. He turns to Merlin.

 “Can you do that all the time?”

 “Uh—technically, yes?”

 Percival’s face splits into a grin so wide Merlin would be worried if he didn’t know that spark behind Percival’s eyes. He echoes it warily.

 “You’re quite the man,” he says instead, clapping Merlin once on the shoulder as he leaves, “and I am honored to bear witness to it.”

 …see now normally Gwaine’s the one for flowery compliments, so coming from Percival…

 Merlin shakes it off and gets back to work. But if his face is turning up into a smile rather than the glower he’d been wearing, well, that’s just good for his worry lines.

 The first time Elyan claps him on the shoulder and says he should learn a thing or two about magic from him, Merlin stares at him like his eyes have sprouted into stalks.

 “I mean,” Elyan says as he gestures to the part of his side that’s still tingling with Merlin’s magic, “if you can make it so I don’t need stitches ever again, I’d better start paying attention, hmm?”

 Merlin blinks, still wondering whether there’s an infection settling in that would explain why Elyan is complimenting his magic. “…you could always talk to Gaius.”

 Elyan waves his hand. “I’ve gotten the battle healer speech more times than I can count, and I’ve no interest in becoming a court physician.”

 “Then you’re out of options.”

 “If you’re expecting me to believe Gaius doesn’t know anything about healing magic, I’m not going to believe you.”

 “I never said he didn’t.”

 Elyan fixes him with a look. “I could always ask you.”

 “But I learned from Gaius.”

 “Then I’ll talk to Gaius about healing magic.”

 “You shouldn’t,” Merlin blurts, “you shouldn’t talk to Gaius.”

 Elyan tilts his head. “But you just said you learned it from Gaius.”

 “I did, but—“

 “...but?”

 Merlin’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. Elyan just lies there, on the ground, as the others bicker about who’s looting what bandit. Children, honestly.

 But he can’t let them know Gaius is involved. Gaius has tried so hard to absolve himself of magic, to leave it in the past, to—to hide his magic. Told Merlin to hide it too.

 “Merlin?” Is that Elyan? “Merlin? What’s happening?”

 Merlin blinks. “What?”

 “You went away for a moment there.” Elyan frowns. “Are you alright?”

 “Yes! Yes, I’m fine, you’re the one who got shot.”

 He runs a hand over his side. “Doesn’t feel like it anymore, not thanks to you.”

 The knight gets to his feet, adjusting his tunic and armor. He smiles, reaching down to offer Merlin a hand up. Merlin takes it, still dazed.

 “We can speak about this later,” he says, “but I would like to learn from you.”

 “From m-me?”

 “Yes, Merlin, from you.”

 With that, Elyan disappears behind him. A few seconds later, he can hear him shouting with Gwaine. Merlin’s still frozen, looking down at his hands. Are they—huh.

 If he doesn’t bother to hide the golden curl of sparks around his irises the next time, well, it’s just that he wants to be sure Elyan knows exactly what the magic is.

 The first time Lancelot asks him what his favorite spell is, he drags the man into a secluded corner of the palace and hisses at him.

 “What is your problem?”

 “Easy,” Lancelot soothes, holding his hands up and letting Merlin fist his tunic, “I meant no offense.”

 “Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

 “What? Asking you what your favorite sp—“

 “Shut up,” Merlin growls, his hand flattening over Lancelot’s mouth, glancing around frantically, “someone could hear you.”

 A weathered hand covers his and he lets Lancelot guide his hand away, still glowering. The knight just raises his eyebrows.

 “Is it an offense to all the others that you know to pick a favorite?”

 “What? No, that’s not—they don’t care, it’s not like they’re sentient.”

 “Then forgive me—“ and how is Merlin supposed to stay angry when Lancelot smiles like that—“but I do not see the problem.”

 “You can’t just talk about magic like that,” Merlin whispers angrily, “not out in the open.”

 “Merlin, in the time that I’ve known you, you’ve done magic more brazenly than I just spoke of it.”

 “That’s different!”

 “On multiple occasions,” he continues, still smiling, “you’ve done it in front of people that would happily have seen you killed for it.”

 “Hence why I don’t really want it being spoken about!”

 Something seems to flicker across Lancelot’s face and he steps forward, gently taking Merlin by the elbows. “Merlin,” he says softly, “none of those people are here.”

 “You don’t know that.”

 “I do,” the knight corrects softly, that blasted smile still in place, “I do know that because Arthur has rooted them all out. And I’ve helped.”

 “You’ve—“ Merlin blinks in surprise— “you’ve what?”

 “There is no member of court that openly despises magic,” Lancelot insists, “and none that would dare harm a single hair on your head.”

 Merlin’s fear fizzles and spurts in his chest, soothed in part by Lancelot’s grip. He swallows heavily, letting his head drop. It meets Lancelot’s sternum with a gentle thud.

 “Sorry.”

 “Don’t apologize,” Lancelot says immediately, his chest rumbling against Merlin’s forehead, “you’ve done nothing wrong. If anything it is I who must apologize.”

 “No, it’s okay.” Merlin takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

 “So?”

 “So?”

 “What’s your favorite spell?”

 Merlin glances around them. There’s a window overlooking the training field not too far. Tugging Lancelot along by his sleeve, he peers outside. No one.

 “Let’s go.”

 “Oh, we need to be outside?”

 “It’ll be less suspicious.”

 If Lancelot has any issue with it, he keeps it to himself. Instead he just chuckles and lets Merlin pull him outside like an anxious toddler. He lifts a hand to block the sun from his eyes as he watches Merlin wring his hands.

 “You needn’t show me if you don’t want to.”

 “No, no, it’s fine, I just…” he takes a deep breath, “I haven’t cast this in a while.”

 He cups his hands around his mouth and murmurs softly. As he parts them, a swarm of vibrant blue butterflies fills the air around them, fluttering up from the safety of his palms. A soft smile crosses his face as he watches them fly up into the golden sun.

 “Miraculous,” he hears Lancelot murmur distantly, still caught up in the swirl of wings, “truly miraculous.”

 If Merlin lets one of the butterflies linger on Lancelot’s shoulder for a little longer, well, he’s just apologizing for dragging the man into this with him.

 The first time Gwaine calls him beautiful, he laughs.

 To say that Gwaine is a flirt is perhaps the greatest understatement in Camelot other than Kilgarrah isn’t concise.

 Seriously. He doesn’t begrudge the dragon his fun—being locked and chained in a cave under Uther Pendragon is enough to drive anyone insane with boredom—but come on.

 Anyway. Merlin’s turning away from Gwaine, dismissing the man as drunk again, only for there to be a gentle hand on his elbow turning him back.

 “I heard you the first time, Gwaine.”

 “And you laughed like you didn’t believe me.”

 “Because you’re—“

 Merlin’s eyes land on Gwaine’s and he pauses. Gwaine’s eyes are clear. Not dazed or fogged by spirits in the slightest. His mouth isn’t lolling to the side, bared in some audacious smirk, it’s not even smiling.

 Instead, Gwaine looks the most serious Merlin’s ever seen him, bar the time he got stabbed and Gwaine pressed down on his stomach like a man possessed. It makes him want to laugh again, break the tension, get Gwaine back to his normal flirty self. But his laugh comes out choked and awkward and Gwaine still hasn’t blinked.

 “If you’re looking for a warm body,” he tries instead, “try somewhere else.”

 “I’m not, Merlin,” Gwaine says with a seriousness that makes Merlin wobble. “Nor am I joking.”

 “I’m not beautiful, Gwaine.”

 “Why not?” Gwaine looks him up and down. “Because you don’t think you are or because some nitwits told you you’re not?”

 “…both?”

 “You’re wrong,” Gwaine says softly, “you’re both wrong.”

 Merlin just huffs and makes to turn away again. Gwaine stops him, standing slowly.

 “Why don’t you want to hear this?”

 “Because I don’t know what you want, Gwaine. And you should know you don’t have to ply me to get me to give you what you want.”

 “What if I don’t want anything?” Gwaine won’t let go of him. “What are you running from?”

 Merlin sighs. He lets his head hang and sets the jug on the table next to him.

 “I’m not—Gwaine, what…why?”

 “Because no one’s ever told you, Merlin,” the knight says, finally smiling as he runs his thumb along the sleeve of Merlin’s tunic, “and you deserve to hear it.”

 Merlin swallows heavily. “What makes you think I’m beautiful?”

 “Not to sound too brash—“

 “Since when have you cared about sounding brash?”

 He accepts the jibe with a nod, still smiling incredulously. “—but have you ever seen yourself when you do magic?”

 Merlin’s cheeks burn.

 He knows what Gwaine’s talking about. Some young upstart on the training field decided to show off like a pigeon about to be plucked and launched an errant spear in Merlin’s direction. He barely lifted an eyebrow and it dodged to the side as he fixed the squire with a look that said ‘do that again and it’ll be your head.’

 The knights had talked about it for hours.

 “Gwaine, I—“

 “Merlin,” Gwaine says instead, “why do you think your magic isn’t beautiful?”

 Ah.

 Well.

 That’s an interesting question.

 One that Merlin would much rather never answer or hear again, thank you very much.

 Gwaine, unfortunately, is not going to let him get away with that.

 “Merlin,” the knight prods, “Merlin?”

 Merlin’s face twists into an awful grimace. Gwaine doesn’t falter, just waits patiently.

 “Because it’s magic,” Merlin spits eventually, “it’s not supposed to be.”

 “Most things that are beautiful aren’t supposed to be.”

 “But—“

 “And just because they aren’t supposed to be doesn’t mean they are,” he continues gently. “And I don’t like seeing you grimace every time someone mentions it.”

 Merlin blinks. “I what?”

 “You make a face,” Gwaine says, “whenever people mention your magic. Like you wish you could’ve hidden it better.”

 “Because most people want me to use my magic for—“

 He cuts himself off. He shouldn’t have said that. He should not have said that. Gwaine just gives him a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

 “People want my magic,” he says eventually, “not—not—“

 “Not you?”

 Merlin nods miserably.

 “Well,” the knight says quietly, “we do. We want you. Magic and all.”

 Merlin blinks. Why did—?

 Oh. Now Gwaine’s leaving. As the door shuts behind him, Merlin stands completely still, puzzling over the words still ringing in his head.

  Magic and all.

 Merlin is inseparable from his magic. He is magic. Anyone who wants his magic is going to get—

 Oh.

  Oh.

  ‘We want you. Magic and all.’

 Most people who want his magic don’t want the man attached to it. Or rather, they do, because they want the scapegoat of someone to blame when the magic finally pays off. And most people who want Merlin don’t want the magic. Because—because—

 But Gwaine said they do.

 If Merlin stands there for a few more minutes before casting a simple spell in front of a mirror for the first time, well, he just—he just wants to see.

 The first time Leon pulls him into a hug he cries.

 “Come,” the knight murmurs, opening his arms and letting the great red cape spread out behind him, “shed your tears, Merlin, it’s alright.”

 Merlin all but falls into the firm cradle of Leon’s embrace, letting the knight tuck his head into the ginger curls and cup the back of his neck. His breaths are coming in great shuddering gasps and it hurts, it hurts, his veins feel like they’re on fire.

 “Calm yourself, Merlin,” Leon says in a low, even voice, “it’s alright. You’re safe.”

 Merlin’s safe, because Merlin has magic, but Leon isn’t. Leon is just a knight—he’s never been just a knight, but he’s just a knight, and Merlin is fire and chaos and he will hurt him.

 “You won’t,” comes the steady reply when Merlin whimpers that he will, Leon has to run before he destroys him, “you wouldn’t hurt me, Merlin, not ever.”

 But I could, an awful voice whispers in his head, I could tear you apart, bit by bit, without even lifting a finger.

 Something clenches in his gut that sends it roiling. He pitches to the side and dry heaves, horrible bitterness coating the back of his tongue.

 “You’re alright,” Leon murmurs, still rubbing his back in slow, reassuring circles, “it’s alright, Merlin, everything’s alright.”

 “No—no—it’s not—“

 “Hush now, Merlin, don’t try and speak yet, just let this go.”

 The ball of hurt in Merlin’s stomach snaps and unsnaps, coiling and recoiling until he’s dizzy, leaning entirely on Leon. Leon, of course, doesn’t even flinch at having the weight of an entire man on him. Instead, he sweeps Merlin into his arms and carries him a little further, settling him on the ground and wrapping his cape protectively around the two of them.

 “It’s all gone—“ Merlin chokes— “I destroyed it, I destroy everything—“

 “That’s not true, Merlin,” Leon says softly, “you know it isn’t.”

 “I ruin everything!”

 “You don’t,” comes the reassurance, soft, steady, unwavering, “and you know you don’t. Everything is alright, Merlin, no one is hurt, nothing is the matter, just rest.”

 “I’m sorry,” he gasps out, unable to escape the blackness roiling in his chest, “I’m sorry I have magic.”

 Shame blossoms in the wake of his words, the tears following shortly after.

 Leon simply wipes them away with a gentle hand, soothing Merlin’s whispered apologies with every stroke.

 “Never apologize for being who you are, Merlin,” Leon says firmly, holding Merlin’s unflinching gaze, “the world would be all the lesser for it.”

 “P-promise?”

 It’s the plea of a child. A desperate, frightened, lonely child.

 If Merlin refuses to let go of Leon for the next few hours after Leon promises, well, that’s his business, not yours.

 The first time Arthur tells him that he loves him, Merlin smiles as he tells him he loves him back.

[secondgenerationnerd]

New Year’s Eve

Been a minute since we had Superstar and their babies!

———————————————

“Momma?”

Mar’i Kent looks up from her vanity. Smiling at the sight of her children peeking at her through the door, she sets her make up brush down, “You can come in, starlings.”

Peter holds the door open for his sisters, Charlie carrying one year old Laney in. M&M runs right to her mother. Bright green eyes shine as the five year old jumps into Mar’i’s lap.

“Well, hello to you to, Ms. Mary:” Mar’i teases. She kisses her middle daughter’s face, making her giggle, before look at her other kids, “What’s up, Starlings?”

“We had a question, Momma.” Charlie explains, handing Laney to their mother, “About you and Daddy?”

“Okay. What’s your question, cowgirl?”

“Well….Peter and I were trying to figure out why you always go out on New Year’s Eve. You and Daddy said it was an anniversary, but you guys already celebrated your wedding anniversary.”

“So you want to know what anniversary we mean?” Mar’i guesses. The three older children nod. Laney’s far more interested in eating her own feet. Getting up, Mar’i nods at Peter, “Sweet boy, there’s a purple photo album on my desk in me and Daddy’s office. Can you pop down and get it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Peter disappears with a soft pop, reappearing a moment later with the photo album in hand. “This one?”

“That’s it! On the bed, my stars.” Mar’i sets her younger daughters down, giving them a kiss and tickles to hear their laughter. As Charlie and Peter climb onto the bed, Mar’i flips through the book.

X’hal, she forgot how small she’d been at Charlie’s age. Her nightstar uniform seemed more intimidating when she was 11. Of course the others have changed, especially Jon. Finding a good picture, she lays it out for the kids to see, “Do you all know who this is?”

“Dada.” Laney gurgles, reaching for the picture. Mar’i gently stops the toddler from grabbing it.

“That’s right, Laney Loo. That’s Daddy and,” She taps the other person in the picture, “That’s Momma. We were about, x’hal, 11 when this was taken? The team had just formed. But! Daddy and I met a year or so earlier.”

Mar’i flips to another page. This time the pair are older, maybe 13, in two pictures. The first has them caught midkiss. Jon holds her face, her own arms wrapped around his waist. The second must have been taken seconds later. Jon’s arms are still up, though they had stepped back from each other. Between his shock and her frozen laughter, the kids guess it wasn’t planned.

“This was taken on New Year’s Eve right after Daddy and I turned 14. Right at Midnight. Daddy had this weird look on his face all night.” Mar’i makes them laugh as she does the face herself, “So I asked if he was okay. Then, as the clock struck 12, your daddy kissed me for the very first time.”

“Without asking permission?!” Charlie’s scandalized look makes Mar’i laugh.

“Yes, without permission, but don’t worry. He asks now.”

“What if you didn’t wanna kiss him, Momma?” Peter asks.

“I would have pushed him away and said no. But I did want him to kiss me. Or to kiss him more accurately.” Mar’i taps the second photo, “See how shocked Daddy is here? He didn’t think I’d kiss him back. Most people couldn’t believe he kissed me first.”

“Why?”

Mar’i sets the book aside, pulling all four of them closer, “Well, Daddy wasn’t very confident at that age. Kinda hard to explain, but he didn’t think I’d like him back. Even though everyone else knew, especially Uncle Chris and Uncle Kon. But, in a looooooooong answer, New Year’s Eve is the anniversary of when Daddy and I started dating.”

The kids look at the photo album for a few minutes with her. Seeing Momma and Daddy so young makes them wonder what they’ll be like when they’re bigger. Peter looks up at his mother.

“Momma?”

“Yes, sweet boy?”

“Do you ever wish you dated people other than Daddy?”

“Nope.” There’s no hesitation in her answer. “I got very lucky with your daddy. We already knew each other before, so it didn’t feel awkward. We didn’t have to worry about hurting the other with our powers. With your daddy, I didn’t have to hide or make myself smaller.”

Something in their faces makes her pull them closer still, “Starlings, do you know what I love most about Daddy?”

“Cuddles!”

“Kisses.”

“His cooking?”

Mar’i laughs at Charlie’s answer, “I love his zorkaberry tarts, but definitely not what I love most, sweet girl. No, what I love the most about Daddy is how I keep finding new things to love about him.”

“Like what, Momma?” M&M asks.

“Well…I’ve gotten to fall in love with the silly songs he makes for you all. The way his face lights up when he gets home. Saturday morning pancakes and cartoons.” She lists a few other things, heart melting because she can see Jon doing each of them so so clearly.

“I want someone to love me like Daddy loves you.” Charlie sighs happily.

“You’ll find them, baby. No matter who they are, you find your person and love them with all your beautiful heart.” Giving each of her kids a kiss, she claps her hands, “Alrighty. I need to finish getting ready and you all need to change into jammies for Mama Lois and Papa Clark’s house! Go, go, Go!”

****

Later, Mar’i sits in the car with her husband, her hand resting in his. She didn’t say it earlier, though she doubts the kids would understand why, but she loves the easy silence they have together.

“Soooo….you keep finding new things to love about me?”

Shaking her head, she looks at her husband, grinning, “Jonathan Kent, were you eavesdropping?”

“Absolutely. The five most important parts of my heart were together. I had to make sure you were okay.” He doesn’t even try to hide his grin. “But come to find out you keep falling in love with my dorky, clumsy ass.”

“You’d think you’d learn after 15 years, Superbabe,” Mar’i teases, “There’s many things I love about you.”

“Oh? Care to share, Mrs. Kent.”

“Depends, Mr. Kent. When’s our reservation?”

[headcanonsandcupcakes]

hola muh dude: so I hear your a maiko shipper? Possibly? Do you have any random Headcanons for them two?

Hey my friend!!! I am so sorry I am getting back to you late on this! I had so many thoughts going around my head regarding these two, that I had to take time to write what I really wanted on this :) Yes, I am a Maiko, Zutara, and Jinko shipper :) But Maiko will always be #1! Are you ready for a lengthy headcanon? Warning: It is also a little depressing :(

- The childhood crush between Zuko and Mai wasn’t one-sided. Zuko also took an affection to Mai, however, it wasn’t as intense of a crush like Mai had for Zuko.

- As they got older, the playing field became level. They had their first kiss together and also hung out with each other outside of Azula (although it was limited because she was threatening). Mai was also the reason why Zuko got into knives and swords. He saw her playing with a small one, and decided he wanted to like knives too, because she liked them. Eventually the interest progressed into swords :)

- Zuko was actually going to ask Mai to be his girlfriend the day after the Agni Kai. However, that never happened. 

- Mai attended the Agni Kai to support Zuko, as she knew he could beat the general. Once she saw that it was Ozai that would be dueling Zuko, she realized it was game over for Zuko. Even as the years passed, she never liked to think about that day. 

- Zuko was banished the day after the Agni Kai, and she never got to properly say goodbye. They kept in touch as best as they could via messenger hawk, but Mai noticed that Zuko drastically changed. It hurt her so much to know that he was going to a TON of pain and turmoil, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Being “friends” with Azula didn’t help matters either, as Mai had to hear horrible commentary about Zuko from Azula. It disgusted her that Azula didn’t even care about her own brother.

- Despite everything that was going on with Zuko, Mai was his shining light. Besides searching for the Avatar, Zuko would look forward to her letters, as that was his only happiness. This explains why he couldn’t get close to Song or Jin, and why it seemed like their relationship came out of nowhere, because they were regularly in contact (until Zuko and Iroh went on the run). Zuko felt a sense of loyalty to Mai, and didn’t want to hurt her by dating other girls. 

- Although Mai had a lack of passion for everything else, she was quite passionate in the bedroom. She is the one who was insistent on cheering up Zuko in “Nightmares and Daydreams”, by having sex, which Zuko graciously accepted. That time was not their first time, however, but rather their first time was during their Ember Island vacation (after ruining Chen’s house). To say the least, Zuko is very awkward, and Mai took charge of most of the activities that night (despite it both being their first time).

- Mai and Zuko dated for two years after the war ended, but took a break because Zuko was struggling with Fire Lord duties and felt that he couldn’t be a proper boyfriend to Mai. Mai rebounded fast, and started dating a councilman’s assistant. Zuko was jealous, but knew that he couldn’t give her what she needed and wanted. 

- Mai ended up dating this man for three years, and many of the nobles thought they were going to get engaged. During this time, Zuko didn’t date anyone and still was madly in love with Mai (this didn’t impress his advisors, who were in insistent on setting him up with someone for an heir). Additionally, although Mai was dating this other man, she still kept in touch with Zuko, and would even visit the palace to check up on him. 

- However, a day came where Mai broke up with the other man. She told Zuko it was because she didn’t see a future with him. Nothing happened between Zuko and Mai for 8 months, as they enjoyed just being friends and being in each others’ company. But, that didn’t last too much longer, as Zuko couldn’t stand to let her get away again. So, he asked her if she would like to try again with their relationship, in which Mai responded, “took you long enough, you’re the one that I want in my future.”

- Their second time dating was a huge success. They realized that the time apart, as well as maturing a little bit, really helped solidify their relationship. They still had their fights, sure, but it wasn’t as unstable as it was when they were teenagers. 

- They dated for a year, until Zuko proposed to Mai. He proposed by getting down on one knee, and presented her a knife that he welded himself. This was the first time he ever saw Mai cry, as she exclaimed, “Yes!”

- Their wedding was absolutely beautiful, and they enjoyed a nice honeymoon on a remote island near the Western Air Temple. They enjoyed married life for several years, and cringed at Uncle Iroh and Mai’s mother’s asks about children. Zuko made a decision a long time ago that he NEVER wanted children because of his childhood, and Mai supported his decision.

- When Mai finds out that she’s pregnant, she’s nervous on Zuko’s reaction (at this point, he was willing to give Tom Tom or Kiyki the throne). She hid it for a few weeks, until Zuko asked her why she was getting sick, eating weird things, and being much moodier than usual, that she confessed. His mind went blank for a moment, but tears automatically streamed on his face. He was already in love with their baby, and realized how stupid he looked for not wanting children.

- When he first felt the baby move in Mai’s belly, he started bawling his eyes out. He loved Mai being pregnant, and enjoyed catering to her every need. One of Mai’s favorite things that Zuko did for her when she was pregnant was that he would heat his hands and place them on her lower back. He also gave into every craving she had, including fire flakes with pickles and ice cream (this was a favorite request of hers). He also was a helicopter husband, as he wanted to ensure that her and the baby were always safe.

- When Mai was in labor, he broke the Fire Lord tradition of not being in the room. He wanted to be there for his wife and see the birth of his daughter. When their daughter was born, they gave her the name Izumi, meaning fountain, where it all started. He was afraid to hold Izumi, as he thought that his daughter would be afraid of his face. After some reassurance from Mai, he held her in his arms, where she looked at him with big golden eyes. He thanked Agni for this blissful moment, and the life he had. It was at this moment that he swore to Izumi that he would always love her, and would NEVER hurt her. 

- Zuko and Mai took to parenting rather well. They wanted to both be hands-on parents, and didn’t want nannies or wet nurses involved at all. Even though Mai always showed a blank canvas, Izumi and Zuko were the only ones that could make her smile and cry of happiness.

- A year and a half after Izumi was born, Mai started to get really bad headaches, to the point that she would have to be bedridden for the day when she would get them. Zuko got really worried, and insisted on Katara coming to the palace to see what the problem was, but Mai told him to back off. She was convinced that it was due to lack of sleep or stress. He did eventually write to Katara, much to Mai’s dismay, and Katara said she would come to visit as soon as she was able (she just had Bumi five months prior to Izumi’s birth, but he was a handful).

- One day, when Izumi was two years old, Mai fainted and had a seizure out in the gardens. Izumi was too young to understand what was going on, and cried for 20 mins until one of the guards found them. Zuko was informed of what happened to Mai during a budget meeting, where he left to the infirmary without saying a word.

- The Fire Sages confirmed that Mai had a death in her brain (cancer wasn’t really studied during their time, but essentially Mai had stage 3 brain cancer). Mai only lived for 6 more months after that. Zuko took time off from his Fire Lord duties (Uncle Iroh stepped in) to take care of Mai at her bedside. Aang, Katara, and Bumi moved into the palace full time to take care of Mai as well.

- Every night, once he put Izumi to bed, Zuko would fire bend in a feral manner. He was incredibly angry that life was dealing him this card, and was also very stressed, because of the pain his wife was going through and also trying to stay strong for their daughter (he had surpassed his Book One anger, that’s for sure). Uncle Iroh, Ursa, and Aang were the only ones keeping him from not going on a rampage, although they understood why he was feeling this way.

- During the last three weeks of Mai’s life, the Gaang came in to check on Zuko, as well as help with the care of Izumi. Zuko was distracted because he knew Mai’s time was coming soon, and wanted to be with her for every moment. However, they had a two year old daughter, and that two year old had needs. So, the Gaang stepped in to feed and put Izumi to bed when she couldn’t stand being at her mother’s bedside any longer (she’s a toddler, it happens).

- Katara tried her best to heal Mai, however, she was too far gone. On the last day of her life, she looked up at Zuko and Izumi with glassy eyes and rasped, “I love you”. Mai died a few hours after that. 

- Izumi was too young to understand what had happened to her mother, however, it didn’t make it easier for Zuko to tell his own daughter that her mother, his wife, the light that kept him going during his banishment, the one that always had faith in him, was no longer on this earth. Although he wanted to be sad and completely disengage from the world, he couldn’t because he needed to stay strong for his daughter. 

- However, Zuko was still numb after Mai passed. He didn’t eat or sleep for two weeks, and went through the motions of the day as if he wasn’t in his own body at all. Even with taking care of Izumi, he wasn’t really “there”. Katara took notice of this, and told Zuko that he needed to grieve. So, he grieved the only way he knew how: being incredibly destructive. He burned an entire wing of the palace that was abandoned for decades. He sat in the middle of the flames and cried for many hours. 

- Mai was buried near the fountain where it all started. Mai always said that she loved that fountain, so Zuko made the decision to bury her right there. For many years after her death, Zuko made it a point to visit her grave every day. Even if he was incredibly busy with Fire Lord duties, he would commit to seeing her and talking to her. The silence when he didn’t hear anything back was always so hard to hear. 

- Izumi doesn’t remember her mother at all, however, Zuko will always talk about Mai to ensure that her legacy is prominent. There are many times in Izumi’s life where he wished she was around to see how amazing of a person Izumi had become. Even when it has been 15 years since Mai’s death, Zuko still aches for her. Before he goes to sleep every night, he kisses the painting that they took together when they were teenagers and says, “goodnight my love”.

[lailyn]

The Way We Were

The knock on the door came late evening, so faint and hesitant Loki almost brushed it off as a product of his overactive imagination. On days like this, when the sun was low and the birds had settled to roost, Loki’s melancholy often paid him a visit. Hearing things was not unheard of. 

There was the knock again. It sounded more resolute this time. 

The banging and clanging from the kitchen ceased momentarily and Tony’s head bobbed up from behind the island counter. “Do you mind getting the door, babe? I kinda have my hands full at the moment.”

Loki rolled his eyes. He waved away their daughter’s toys and righted the cushions on the couch before trudging grudgingly to greet whoever was at the door. For some reason, the journey from the living room to the front door felt long and never-ending, his feet heavy and his heart heavier. 

His wards were holding, but he felt far from safe. He held onto the small frame tighter and closer to him. 

“Stephen.” 

“Loki.” 

“I...wasn’t expecting you.” Loki's grip around his daughter tightened. 

"Mama, is he a bad man?" He heard her whisper in his ear, and just like that, the tension drained out of Loki like water.

"No." Loki loosened his grip around her. "No, baby, he's not."

“Stephen, my man! You made it!” Out of nowhere, Tony appeared, and the trance broke instantly; Loki took an abrupt step back as his husband reached over to give their guest a hug. 

“Tony.” Stephen’s smile was warm and genuine, as was the affectionate squeeze he gave Tony’s shoulder. “It’s been a while.”

“Yes, we’ve really moved out of your jurisdiction,” Tony said with a roll of his eyes. “Wellness checks probably aren't warranted as much.”

“Not when you’ve moved upstate, no, not so much,” Stephen said serenely. 

Upon realising that none of them had moved in the last thirty seconds since Loki answered the door, Tony balked, “Are we just going to stand here like a bunch of idiots? Get your ass inside!” 

“Husband,” Loki admonished him, doing his best to cover both their daughter’s ears with one hand.

“Oops.” Tony shooed them all in. He could no more bear the awkwardness than Loki could pretend that they were nothing but old friends. 

He closed the heavy mahogany doors behind them. “I’d offer to take your coat, but…” 

Much to everyone's amusement, the Cloak of Levitation had flown across the threshold to make itself at home, pretending to socialise with the other outer garments on the rack behind the door. 

The toddler in Loki's arms squealed in delight.

Stephen admired the cabin, casting an appreciative eye at the high, lofty ceiling with its great timber beams, and the great roaring fireplace. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

“I didn’t think the neoclassic, minimalist luxe look was going to work but you know our dearest Loki. He always knows what he wants.” The look of pure adoration on Tony's face was something to behold. 

A soft blush coloured Loki’s cheeks, his “Stop it,” half-hearted and weak. 

Stephen's fingers hovered over the lone Japanese ceramic tea bowl on a display table. "Edo period?"

Loki’s eyes were unreadable. "I imagine so."

Stephen would recognise the rough, rustic finish anywhere; the crack that went down all the way from its rim to its bottom was unmistakable. He remembered the hours Loki had spent studying the gold lacquer with which the crack was filled, and he remembered keeping him company. 

"Wabi-sabi." Stephen nodded in approval. "The art of seeking beauty in imperfection."

Loki's stoic face gave an imperceptible spasm.

“Espérance, darling, be a dear and go upstairs for a short nap, okay?” Loki pressed a kiss to the little girl's cheek. "Daddy and I are going to talk to Uncle Stephen for a while. We'll call you once dinner's ready."

"I'll take her," Tony offered. "Why don't you take Stephen outside, babe? I've put out some hors d'oeuvre on the patio."

"She's grown so big." Stephen marvelled at the sight of his friends' eldest daughter as she climbed up the stairs one step at a time, clutching the rail in one hand, her father's hand in the other.

"That's one way of telling time." Loki said coolly. "Watching children grow."

Without another word, Loki turned and led Stephen onto the patio, where several chairs had been laid out on the deck overlooking the picturesque lake below. 

Loki had no sooner sat on the chair that offered the best view of the mountains on the other side of the house than the first hum of a familiar tune began to play from the various speakers hidden in the trees around the property. 

Tony must have tinkered with the controls inside the house, and Loki heaved a sigh, forlorn and pensive. 

He did not blame his husband for the poor choice. It had nothing to do with Barbra Streisand’s metier as a singer, as legendary as it was. 

"I could listen to this song over and over if not for the memories."

Stephen took a seat on the other side of the coffee table. It was a comfortable, yet companionable distance. "It's always been your favourite."

"The song or the film?"

Now that Stephen really thought about it, he had no idea. "You never told me."

Loki allowed himself a wistful smile. "You hated it. The ending."

"I don't understand why they couldn't be together."

"They were too different."

"They were their own person, sure. But they loved each other. They should have been able to make it work."

"Are we still talking about Barbra Streisand and Robert Redford?" Loki eyed the man sitting next to him. "Or are you talking about us?"

Stephen felt like kicking himself. This was not why he came. He was not going to ruin what was left of this fragile friendship lamenting lost loves and what-ifs. He did not have many friends left, in this world or off it. 

"We were too similar," he managed. 

Loki snorted. "Polarity has nothing to do with compatibility. What repels does not always repel. What attracts does not always last."

"That is true," Stephen agreed reluctantly.

"You Midgardians look to the stars for guidance, do you not? The alignment and such, to see if one is right for another?”

“Certain cultures do, yeah.”

“I was not born under these stars, Doctor." Loki raised his head to the heavens. "So your theory is flawed."

Stephen knew better than to challenge an idea when there was no point in winning. He had lost so much already. A wiser man would argue that losing was not the same as sacrificing; if done for the greater good, it was noble and worthwhile and who cared if he was alone? If his bed was cold every night?

As long as Loki was safe, warm and loved, Stephen cared not one damn bit. 

"It's pretty cold tonight, huh. How about a drink?"

Two steaming cups suddenly appeared on the coffee table.

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Pumpkin spice latte? You hate this stuff."

Stephen flashed him a smile, boyish and familiar. He offered no explanation for why it looked so sad. Perhaps he did not realise he was wearing it. "Not anymore."

A sudden splashing sound and a whiff of bourbon had Loki shooting out a hand to cover the rim of his cup before Stephen could offer to do the same to his drink. "I'm alright, thank you."

In his shock, Stephen nearly dropped the bottle with a fumbling gasp, and his host turned to give him a sharp look.

In profile, Loki’s looks had appeared untouched by age. But now, Stephen could see the passage of time in the seaglass eyes, how their piercing brilliance cast a sallow hue over a complexion so pale he could see the veins in Loki’s temples. 

"Does Tony know?"

Loki's forehead furrowed as though the question puzzled him, but it smoothened as he looked down at the hand he did not realise he was holding to his stomach. 

"I was planning to tell him the good news tonight."

Stephen closed his eyes. Finally he knew why he had come, and why he must now leave.

He recapped the bottle of liquor slowly. He banished it to his secret pocket dimension in exchange for another object, one he had coveted for his own but now only knew was only given to him for safekeeping. 

Slowly he stood. As if answering his silent call, the Cloak of Levitation flew through one of the open windows upstairs to settle around his shoulders. 

Loki tore his eyes away. He could not look at Stephen's majestic silhouette for too long.

"Must you leave so soon?" He asked lightly. "You'll break Tony's heart."

The foliage of red and gold here was as beautiful as the one Stephen and Loki once shared a long, long time ago. 

He pressed in Loki's hand a memento of that time, a souvenir from one of the many Shinto shrines Loki had dragged him to up and down the ancient town of Kyoto. 

"Fall has seen its share of broken hearts." 

With the return of the sad smile and a small shrug, Stephen then asked the cruelest yet kindest question of all. "What is one more?"

_____________

Loki watched the last of the autumn leaves fall one by one onto the cold, hard ground. He had never told anyone but his eyesight had become better with age, especially in the dark. Be it his Jotunn blood or his ever-growing proficiency in the practice of magic, he found it both a blessing and a curse.

Winter was coming. 

And something was burning. 

The smoke detector blared but the alarm sounded distant, unimportant. A white noise of modern living. 

There was a time when Loki would have let the world around him burn, just for one moment of peace...until he learned that solace was not a place. Tony taught him that.

The patio door slid open behind him and before his husband could speak,

"Do you need a hand, darling?" Loki said without turning his head.

"I think I burnt the turkey!" Tony said, sounding awfully stressed over an overdone poultry no one was going to eat anyway. "I need some time-turning magic! Stephen, you need to timey-wimey the turkey back to edib - "

He frowned. "Where did Strange go?"

"He had to leave."

"What? Why?"

"He didn't say."

"It's not Thanksgiving without turkey."

"I'm sure we'll manage," Loki said mildly. 

He waved a hand and the smell of smoke disappeared, the smoke detector alarm dwindling into the first chimes of the cicadas' night song.

"Think it was some kind of Sorcerer Supreme business? He left without saying goodbye."

"Must be."

Tony sank slowly into the chair Stephen had so hastily vacated. "Well, I guess protecting our reality comes first.” 

“Yeah,” Loki said softly. “I guess.”

"Are you alright?" Tony asked carefully.

“You didn’t tell me he was coming.”

“I didn’t know he was. He has never RVSP-ed before, no matter how many times we invited him over.”

“Why now? Why this year?”

“Maybe he just misses you.”

“Anthony…”

"How long has it been? Seven, eight years since you last saw each other?"

Loki had meant to leave Tony's rhetorical question unanswered but nostalgia had other ideas. "Ten."

Tony whistled. A decade, huh. "That must be why."

“Tony, don’t.”

“Look, Lokes,” Tony said haltingly as he ran a rakish hand through his hair. "Everybody has a history. You know mine. I'm lucky if I could learn half of yours before I die but what I do know of it, I'm cool with it. You're with me now and that's all that matters."

Loki said nothing.

"Am I wrong?" Tony pleaded when the silence went on for far too long. 

Loki rolled his eyes. "There's a little girl upstairs who has your face and your name, what do you think?"

"Seeing as she is our daughter, she's mine, sure." Tony's eyes were asking a different question altogether, Are you? 

Loki sighed, feeling sick to his stomach. The one sip of the sickly sweet drink he took sat heavy and sour, heralding the onset of nausea that would take hours to calm.

His hand slipped inside his pocket and grasped the palm-sized object, not knowing what to expect - 

The tiniest gust of wind blew against his cheek, and Loki let out a startled cry. He had not felt Stephen's magic in a long, long time.

"Loki?" he heard Tony call out, the abject concern in his husband's voice.

He picked up the pouch that had fallen out of his pocket and fisted it tightly, noticing how his nausea had completely vanished.  

"It's an Omamori charm," he said faintly. "The Japanese would gift these to expectant mothers as a good luck charm for safety in pregnancy and childbirth."

"Why would he - " Tony's eyes bulged as he gaped, "You're pregnant?"

"Yes," Loki said, painfully aware of how feathery and weak his voice sounded.

"And you told him?" Tony asked, his voice rising in pitch. "Before me?"

Loki ignored the jealousy in Tony's voice and the hurt in his husband's eyes. Not only was it unfounded, Loki was barely holding it together himself. 

He shook his head more forcefully than he intended and a few tears landed on the weather-beaten deck, darkening it in places. 

"Stephen just knew." Loki wiped his face surreptitiously. "He knows these things."

"I bet he does," Tony muttered darkly. 

Loki turned to look at his husband furiously. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Baby, I didn't mean it like that." Tony hurriedly tried to gather Loki in his arms but his unyielding husband refused to budge so Tony slid onto the floor and surrendered himself to the mercy of Loki's lap. "I say the stupidest shit sometimes, stuff I don't even mean." 

But Loki was nothing if not persistent. "Then what did you mean?"

Tony was quiet for a time. "Bambi, I'm the coolest guy I know. I look good for my age. Did I tell you my skin age dropped from fifty to thirty after I went on that cleansing diet Bruce recommended on his podcast?"

If Loki waited long enough, Tony almost always got to the point. Eventually. 

"Hey, Fury told me that the last Sorcerer Supreme lived for hundreds of years. How crazy is that?"

“Where are you going with this?”

“Nowhere,” Tony said all too quickly. 

"You are talking to the God of Lies, Tony, or did you forget?" Loki's eyes glinted dangerously. "Try again."

“Someday...one day when I’m no longer around and if you decide that - ” Tony hesitated. His gaze shifted to the floor. “I just want you to know that I’m okay with it. I’m okay with the idea of...you. And him.”

“You would say that to me when I have given up everything to be with you. To take you as my husband." Loki's eyes welled. "To bear our children.”

His breath hitched, his chest felt tight. "After all these years, you still - "

"No, Loki. Please, don't." 

Tony could never stand to see him cry, but Loki could not help the tears streaming down his face of their own volition.

"Please don't cry…" 

Rough, calloused hands pawed at the hollow of his cheeks. 

"I just wish I could make you happy."

But Loki was not having it. "The man can see into the future, Stark. Do you honestly believe he would have let you have me if you couldn't?" 

Tony was stunned into silence.

"What ever gave you the impression that I was not happy with you?" Loki asked bitterly, his entire frame trembling under the weight of anger and some other emotion he dared not name. "You are not some charity case I picked up because you had the shorter life to live."

The silence stretched into long minutes of heartache and morose reflection.

“Are you mad at me?” Tony asked quietly.

"No." Loki shook his head. “I am thankful for you. You gave me a chance. No one else did.”

“Hey, hey. It wasn’t all me. It was mostly you. It was all you.” 

Tony grabbed Loki's hand and pressed an exceptionally fierce kiss on the bone-cold knuckles. “You gave us a chance. I just wanted someone I couldn’t have.”

“Someone you thought you couldn’t have," Loki corrected. 

Tony gazed into the icy depth of Loki's eyes, looking for an affirmation only Loki could give.

“Stephen may have come first but you are not second, Tony." 

Loki touched his fingertips to the sides of his husband's dear, sweet face. "You were never second.”

"I love you, Games."

"And I, you," Loki reassured him, stilling the quiver of Tony's lips with a brush of a thumb. "Even if you don't always believe me."

"I do." In a throwback to his overexcitement on their wedding day, Tony showered Loki's face all over with kisses, each more desperate than the one before. "I do, I do, I do!" 

"I never doubted you, Loki. I was just being an idiot. An insecure, self-centered idiot." Tony reached out a hand to touch Loki's stomach. "Are you okay?" 

"I am more than okay." Loki laced his fingers through Tony's. "Are you?"

"Are you kidding? Do you see this?" Tony gestured at the giant grin he was wearing. It was so huge he felt as if his cheeks would snap. "This is my happy face. I am super happy." Then his face contorted. "When did we -?"

"Make her?" Loki bit down on his lip. "By my calculation, probably last month on our trip to Italy."

Tony's already big eyes widened. Her? He mouthed. 

Loki thought of the pouch charm with its exquisite pink brocade and gold silk lining. 

The Sorcerer Supreme was never wrong.

"Yes, we are having another girl," Loki  said giddily. Tears of happiness did not sting as much so this time he did not bother blinking them away.

Tony's eyes danced. "Can I tweet this yet?"

"No."

"But my followers come up with the most amazing baby names!"

"No!"

Tony pouted. "Fine. But we're giving her an Italian name."

"Tony, we don't really have to name every kid we have after the place where they were conceived, you know."

"Espérance grew into hers," Tony argued. After a few seconds of heavy thinking, "I quite like Isabella."

Loki wrinkled his nose beatifically. "Too common."

"Ludovica? You thought the sculpture was beautiful."

"I am not naming our daughter after a tomb effigy!" Loki said indignantly. "Although I did meet Bernini once. Give him a slab of marble and he could breathe it to life." 

The reminiscent smile on Loki's face took on a life of its own. "You would have liked him. He was quite flashy, like you."

"God you're sexy when you name-drop famous dead people," Tony sighed.

Loki began to laugh; it started off slow, before escalating into a full, heartfelt laughter that had him grabbing Tony's face in both hands. 

Stephen chose to serve the world. Maybe in another life, he would choose Loki. 

But for now, and forever…

There was no other man for him. 

He bent down to kiss Tony on the lips, gently, deeply and fully. 

"Anthony Stark, you have my heart." For Loki too remembered his wedding vows. "Whole, healed and eternal."

And eternal indeed was their love, the former Iron Man and his Ice Prince, and healed were their hearts, conjoined as one, for as long as they both shall live.