#like that's a whole police officer doing that to civilians

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC x DP fic idea: Love Among Fans

Damian Wayne would be the first to admit he had difficulty connecting to others his age. The only thing he knew well was the unforgiving bloodlust of battle and while that helped him fight as Robin it didn't mean it made a well liked Robin.

Civilians flinched away from him, and Police officers stood weary around him. He cares not for the crooks' opinion of him, but he knew it is low.

Worse, other teenage heroes didn't like him around. The Teen Titans had rejected his membership after the three months trial run. Young Justice made excuses after the first two. Even the Outlaws said he was too much to be around, and Todd ran that one.

Of course, his brothers did their best to let him down gently but they could not force the rest of their teams to accept him.

That's why Jon meant so much to him. His best friend had been displeased initially with Damian's behavior, but he had been willing to still get to know him.

Jon had the patience of a Saint. He discovered what worked for Damian and how to help him breach the gaps between them. Damian knew little of what he had missed as a kid, but Jon never made him feel less for it. He carefully explained, opening his world to wondrous new things and Damian tried them all because Jon asked him to.

There was very little he wouldn't do for Jon.

"Have you ever read fanfiction?'" Jon asked one afternoon in the Kryptonian's room.

"No." He grunts, knowing the other wouldn't take offense to the short reply.

Jon smiles, pushing the tablet he had been scrolling on. "You should! This is my current favorite. It's about the show Space Ninjas, you like."

Damian appreciated the show's art and animation, so he took the tablet and clicked on the first chapter. Jon pulled out his phone, and got comfortable on his bed as Damian read.

And read and read and read.

Three days later, he lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, unsure how to deal with real life until the author posted another chapter. He been texting Jon about the story and hosting over amazing character interpretation, theories on what the upcoming twist would be and just about how amazing this piece of art is.

Jon sent back multiple reaction gifs and links to the author's blog, where fans had posted art of the fic. Damian scrolled through them, amazed by how well every piece was, and his eyes caught the drawing Tabet Drake given him a year ago that he had ignored for his paints.

After a moment of thinking, he picked it up, hooked up his computer, and tried to draw the one scene that made the whole fic his newest obsession.

It took three days before he was satisfied with the results. He showed Jon who gushed over it for hours. He convinced him to open a blog to post it and when Damian couldn't bring himself to, Jon tagged the writer in it.

The writer sent him a heartfelt message equally moved by his drawings as Damian was by his writing.

It was the start of his second friendship.

Over time Damian drew more and more. His fanart blog grew in followers as his skills sharpened with practice. He made more pieces of other fanfiction he read, but he always fell back to making unique fan art for GlaxeyAstronaut.

He and GlaxeyAstronaut chatted for years. He didn't know his real name- he could find it easily enough with the Batcomputer but felt it would ruin things if he did- but he knew about him. His online friend was the same age as, Damian, who identified as male, had an older sister and two scientist parents, lived Minnesota and dreamed of being a astronaut.

Damian likewise told him things about himself, mindful never of revealing anything that could pinpoint him a Wayne. And that's how their relationship was for two years.

The writer and his artist.

At one point, Jon had pointed out that Damian messaged GlaxeyAstronaut daily and talked about him just as much. He pointed out how Damian's heart beat raised whenever he saw that silly icon on his notification. He pointed out how flustered he became when he read GlaxeyAstronaut's messages.

But Damian ignored him beacuse surely he was only excited to have two whole friends now.

When they turned fourteen, things changed. GlaxeyAstronaut stopped replying to his message for a week, nearly causing Damian to go find him as Robin until his friend returned to the chat room with a short "I had an accident in my parent's lab. Electric accident. It was bad. It is bad. I may not be able to get on here as much"

His friend became somewhat distant after that, replying three or four days after. Damian figured it was because he was recovering from his accident. Still he tried to be there for him and one day, almost a year after GlaxeyAstronaut's accident he received the message.

"I can't be an Astronaut. My heart will always be too slow to apply"

Damian stared at the words feeling ice cold. Being an Astronaut had always been his friend's dream since he was five, and he could point at the glowing dots to his parents on a camping trip. The fact a medical condition acquired from a lab accident ruined it just left Damain feeling cheated.

He had no idea what GlaxeyAstronaut must feel but he guess far worst.

He had sent a message asking GlaxeyAstronaut if he wanted to call him and talk about it without much thought . They had never done a voice call before, never wanting to breach that uncharted area of online and real life friendship.

But GlaxeyAstronaut agreed, and hesitantly, Damian sent him a link to a chat room with a call option.

The call connected, and the two spoke about the writer's condition how the electricity had run amok in his body, slowing his heart and killing him for a few seconds until his friends were able to bring him back using CPR.

When that became too heavy, they switched to their favorite shows, then brainstormed ideas for collaboration and everything else under the sun.

Damian felt like no time had passed when Father came to warn him to get ready to head out soon, and GlaxeyAstronaut told him he should get started on his homework anyway.

"My name is Danny, by the way," the voice from his speaker said softly. "You don't have to tell me your name. I just....thank you for listening. My best friends and sister hear me but they don't listen to what I saw about.....the accident. It means a lot to me."

"You are most welcome" He pauses for a few seconds before he tacks on "My name is Damian. It is a honor to meet you Danny"

He heard the other boy laugh before the call disconnected any Damian was left staring at his ceiling like he did three years ago.

Back then, Damian's life had changed upon discovering fanfiction and fandoms. Today his life changed upon the startling discovery that Jon had been trying to tell him since he was twelve.

He had a crush on Danny.

How would ge deal with this?

[sitkainsnow]

Desperately need a fic from a police officer’s pov and they watch SuperBat interactions bc like all the cops either hate or love Bats, but are still kinda terrified of him, but ofc Supes is all sunshine and smiles and “He’s my best friend y’all!” And they KNOW bats probably totally has kryptonite and an attitude worse than the devil.

So they end up in a situation where they’re working together and Batman in taking with the police and Superman’s standing behind him waving and smiling at everyone while Batman is giving single-word or just huffs for answers. And then Superman freezes and cocks his head and to everyone’s surprise grabs Batman by the shoulder and whispers something in his ear and then what’s more surprising is Batman doesn’t even mind as he wraps his own arm around Supes and then they’re gone in a blur of blue and Black. All the cops are just left standing there like 🧍‍♂️shocked bc Bats didn’t mind Supes touching him.

Or another instance where it’s after this big battle in Gotham and it’s with whatever villain but Superman is there too and the villain had kryptonite. Anyways so after the battle Bats is talking to the police and handing over the villain and Superman comes over after talking to the civilians, picks Bats up by the scruff mid sentence politely nods to the officers he was talking too, and moves him a couple feet away and just starts yelling at Bats abt how stupid it is for him to run around jumping in the way of heavy blows EVEN if they have kryptonite and Bats just scoffs and turns his head away and all the police on the area watch as Superman and Batman argue about how stupid it is to risk your life to save the other (they both did it) completely oblivious to their audience and the police whose POV it’s in just thinks “god they sound like a married couple. Wouldn’t it be crazy if the two of the worlds greatest hero’s were actually a couple lmao. But that’s crazy they’re just really good friends”

Gordon watched all this trying not to blow his fuse bc yes, Batman does need to be yelled at, and yes, he does need to prioritize his safety more, but NO, you don’t need to be having your lovers quarrel in front of the whole damn GCPD.

Or in another instance Batman racks up a bunch of charges on him for whatever reason and the GCPD by luck manages to arrest him and so here comes Superman trying to bail his partner(in more ways than one) out of prison and the police are like “we’re really sorry Mr. Superman sir but we can’t legally do that” and Supes goes “what the hell did he even do” and so the officer goes “Property Damage, unlawful violence, arson, punched a cop in the face and broke his nose, caught carrying weed which is illegal in the state of New Jersey, multiple -and I mean multiple- unpaid speeding tickets. Oh, and the DMV wanted us to talk to him about his unregistered Batmobile and Batbike.”and Supes is about to cry as he quietly asks “Okay, so how much is bail” And the officer looks away and mumbled “sixteen grand” and Supes gasps and cries out “I don’t get paid enough for sixteen grand!!”

However thirty minutes later Supes is back at the GCPD station shakily counting out bills bc he can’t use a check or card (obvi) sweating heavily and looking extremely pained. The cops don’t even ask where he got all those bills so quickly and just watch him and another 30minutes later Bats is out and Supes is shaking him by his shoulder shouting “so who’s gonna lag me back!! Who’s gonna reimburse me for for 16k?? Whose gonna apologize for the heart palpitations you gave me?? Whose gonna apologize for all the gray hairs this is going to give me?? You’re giving me gray hairs all the time B!! I can’t do this!!” And Batman just sighs and pats Superman on the back as they walk out of the station and Superman is mumbling about bank credit and loans and how bad he looks with wrinkle lines and gray hair sounding like he’s about to cry.

Meanwhile the police try not to loose their minds throughout this whole interaction and Gordon’s just staring at the door blankly smoking a cigar and the police whose POV it’s in looks at the cigar a little bit closer and goes “That smells like weed” and Gordon looks at her and just says “I feel for Superman a bit more than I want to”

[sp0-t]

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋

PoliceForce!141 x VictimsPartner!Reader

warnings - murder(er), descriptions of a crime scene, blood, not really gore, loss of a loved one.

summary - the investigation of an arising serial killer has every civilian on their toes, however it has a whole police precinct in even more of an erratic frenzy. The police force assigned to the job get the call that yet another body has been found, most likely another victim of the recent killer. The body count is high, but the tensions are even higher…

💿 (a/n) - it’s finally here!! Long awaited first post of this most likely very long ongoing series. The reader doesn’t really come out in this part but bear with me they will be out in the next! I hope you will stick around for future parts and other works in general. If you’re new to my page or this story in general, Hi! Welcome! If you’ve been following along with my updates and my page, thank you for sticking around! And I look forward to seeing you! Most importantly I hope you all enjoy and stick around some more!

prologue/ ➤ part one / part ???

2… 3… 5… 8…? How many would you leave this time, you didn’t know. You were on 10 now, how many did it take till you got bored of this one too? This one wasn’t as fun, this one didn’t put up a fight, this one took all the fun out of it. It was too easy honestly, it made you bored, easily. You stopped yourself at 23, sighing as you stood up.

You walked over to the trash can lazily taking off your gloves, making sure to engulf the knife in both gloves before begrudgingly tossing it into the tiny metal tin trash can. The metal bang rang through the small office space as you walked to the door. You pull out a cloth from your pocket before turning the doorknob and heading out the door.

“What was his name again?”

The sound of stretching as he pulls the blue latex gloves over his hands quickly dissipates while approaching the house's front door.

“Darren Boyle, he’s some rich big-time director of a construction company.”

“…Is there a reason you’re telling me this man’s finances?”

“Yeah, actually…”

The EMT halts her walking and hands the report to him

“Nothing was taken from the home, no money, no belongings, nothing.”

He takes the report and looks it over.

“Yet he still has 23 knife wounds all over his body”

The walk to the office space was short and brief, with multiple people at the crime scene, and multiple things happening all at once. The flash of the camera, the sound of plastic evidence bags, and the smell… that smell, that concoction of iron and decay that permanently scars the nose with its presence alone.

The rest of the force was already present at the scene littered around, each doing different tasks.

Officer Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, is probably the smartest in the entire county. From someone who started as a mere medical student, that ended up not being able to bear the weight of being the cause of a lost human life, went to become someone who brought “life” and justice to the lost and their families. He is the forensics specialist of the team, offering his smarts and intuition to the force. Gaz can pronounce the cause of death by a simple examination of the body, as well as match DNA evidence to a perpetrator, blood, fingerprints, spit, etc.

Officer Johnny “Soap” McTavish, investigator as well as one of the best interrogators, right behind Officer Riley. Soap used to be a big-time private investigator sometimes, often, closing cases faster than the police department itself. This eventually led to the police department trying to recruit, and find, Soap to their forces for his high investigator talent, which landed him with the force, after a very eventful high-speed chase…

Officer Simon “Ghost” Riley, aka. death reincarnated. Was discovered from his time as a mercenary, and would finish any job no matter the morals or ethics involved. The blood from his past haunted him, when he retired from his brutal position, he discovered his now-current sheriff. Who heard his story and convinced Ghost to come out of his early retirement and become a detective. Ghost took this offensively at first, seeing the offered position as some type of “downgrade”. He ended up convinced into the position and is now one of the most well-known detectives in the nation.

That leaves the sheriff…

“Sheriff Price. It’s been a while, although I’d prefer if we didn’t have to meet under these circumstances.”

“Laswell, always good to see a familiar face. Although I'd have to agree, these circumstances aren't exactly.. ideal.”

“A killer in your part of the city. A serial.. killer.”

She says the last part while narrowing her eyes behind her shoulder at the now dead body

“So”

She says with her head still facing the body

“Whats your plan.”

It wasn’t a question.. it was a demand

She turns her head, her frustrated look now landing on the sheriff.

“To catch this prick.”

They both made heavy eye contact with each other. Trying to square up the other with their looks alone, the tension rising. that is until they are interrupted

“Sheriff! You have to see this.”

A shout from Gaz, across the home office. Price’s attention immediately being stripped away from Laswell and reattaching to his officer

Gaz stands from his crouched position near the victim’s desk, the Sheriff joining his side to glance at what he had found. In Gaz’s hands was a piece of paper, one that had been splattered in blood, It wasn’t just paper, it was a note.

… a note for the Sheriff

written by: @sp0-t ©️

[suzukiblu]

what do you have for Clark kent?

Clark is the last son of Krypton.

Clark is the last of Krypton.

At least, that's what he thought thirty seconds ago.

"Uh," the kid standing in the middle of the broken-up Metropolis street in front of him says awkwardly, a gloved hand half-covering the bright and bold and undeniable emblem on his chest. There's a lot of surrounding property damage, a lot of staring civilians hovering on the sidewalk, and some very upset police officers cuffing up some very unconscious metahuman gang members. Clark can't even begin to bring himself to care about any of it. "Hey . . . ?"

"Hello," Diana says, raising a curious eyebrow at both the kid and the ridiculous mess that's somehow been made of the street. From the look of it maybe one of those gang members had some kind of tectonic-based abilities or something similar, but Clark continues not to care. "It seems we've encountered an admirer of yours, Kal."

"You're wearing that crest without permission," Bruce says flatly, looking less amused than Clark has seen him since the last time someone died on the League's watch.

Clark, meanwhile, can't say anything at all.

"Hey, Superman gave me permission, okay?!" the kid protests, bristling defensively. Clutching the emblem . . . protectively. Like he's afraid to have it taken away. "Just not, uh . . . this one."

"This one." Bruce frowns. The kid flattens his hand against his chest and just . . . shrugs, looking away. Clark can't look away from him at all. He looks like . . . he looks . . .

"Yeah," the kid says, gesturing a little directionlessly with his free hand. "I'm kinda not, like . . . local? There was like this whole thing, like with Hypertime and–it's complicated, okay? Just, like, it's an alternate reality issue. I'm sort of, uh . . . lost. Or–stranded, more like. I guess more like . . . stranded."

The kid swallows. Drops his hand away from the emblem and folds his arms over it instead.

Keeps standing there, looking like . . .

"Are you, now," Bruce says neutrally, and he's definitely going somewhere with that, but–

"You're Kryptonian," Clark blurts, because he can't hold the words back a moment longer. Diana and Bruce both go very still beside him. The kid just looks surprised.

"Uh, not really?" he says. "I mean, okay, sort of. I'm a binary clone of . . . you know, like a hybrid? Um, they based me off, well . . . our Superman. And then, like, stitched me up with human DNA to hold me together 'cuz the Kryptonian genome is a freaking nightmare and they couldn't really figure it out all that well, so otherwise I would've degraded and–uh. Sorry."

Clark feels something he doesn't think he's ever felt in his life, looking at this kid. Feels like he's been dragging himself through the uncanny valley and finally seen the other side of the thing; like he's finally crossed through the fog and darkness and come out into the clear light of day and seen what people are actually supposed to look like. Everything about him is just . . . right. The pitch of his voice, the slope of his shoulders, the way the sunlight reflects off his skin, the pattern of spokes in his irises, the color of his eyes, the weight of him in the world . . .

Clark wants to snatch this kid up and wrap him in his cape and never let anything else touch him. Never let him be hurt or upset or–or alone. Never. Not for anything.

He feels the way he's heard people describe feeling when they first met . . . when they first . . .

He feels the way he's heard people describe feeling when they first met their child. A sense of awe and wonder and . . . and . . .

He feels like he felt the first time he left the atmosphere and saw all of Earth all at once. Everything on it, everyone on it. The whole thing all together, all the same. Perfect.

Complete.

He's never loved anything this immediately, Clark realizes distantly. Not even that first full glimpse of Earth.

He can't imagine how he ever, ever could have.

"What's your name?" he asks, unable to shake the intensity of emotion held painfully tight in his chest. Not even wanting to shake it.

The kid looks–worried, almost. Puts his hands behind his back. Clark can see the full image of the El crest emblazoned in pride of place across his chest for the first time, and it makes him feel weak.

"Superboy," the kid says. "Um . . . Kon-El."

Clark's heart could burst, hearing that.

Or break.

"Kon-El," he echoes, forcing himself not to step in closer; not to crowd the kid. "I had a . . . on Krypton, before it was destroyed, there was . . ."

"A cousin. From the, uh, second house of El," the kid–Kon-El–agrees, shifting just barely anxiously. "My Superman said I . . . reminded him of him, like from what he saw in the recordings and all? So, uh . . ."

"I named you after him?" Clark asks wonderingly. He would've given the kid a human name over a Kryptonian one, himself, but then again, a public street in an alternate dimension isn't really the place for him to be introducing himself as "Jon Kent" or anything similar. Kon nods stiffly, drawing himself up a bit.

"Yeah," he says. "He said, uh–um. He said Kon-El was strong-willed. And . . . uh . . ."

He trails off, looking nervous, and then visibly steels himself and looks defensive again instead.

"He said I was family," he says, squaring his shoulders and lifting his jaw, like he's actually expecting someone to argue with him or something. "So he gave me that name."

Clark doesn't know who the hell made this kid so much as hesitate over saying that to any version of him that isn't an active supervillain, but he thinks he'd like to throw them into the Phantom Zone for a century or two. Just . . . that's all.

Or maybe three.

[chiefdirector]

Care for her | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

No. 14: field medicine

As a police officer you always have to stay vigilant. Danger could come from anywhere at anytime, and when you’re putting your life on the line in a daily basis, it becomes a good habit to a) make it home in the first place and b) make it home relatively uninhured.

The LAPD offered training on how to ward off potential attackers, especially those with knives and other sharp, stab-able objects. They also trained their officers in what to do in the event that they were stabbed. This did not provide any comfort to Detective (Y/N) (L/N).

Tim, the LAPD’s poster boy for model cop, already knew what to do. He barked commands at anyone who could listen and (Y/N) was sure he demanded something of her too but she couldn’t hear him. Just looking down at the blood pooling through her shirt from her side made her ears ring at a deafening level.

She had always been good with blood and injuries but when it was on herself she shut down, and Tim knew this. He gentle shook her shoulders, bringing her attention to him. She still couldn’t hear him, but she followed his lead as he guided her to the ground to lean against a wall.

For a fleeting moment she though that she may die. It would be a pitiful end to a life barely lived. Of course it would be her luck to die in a liquor store full of drunks and lowlifes. But as she watched Tim continue to bark commands at any civilian nearby to get what she could only assume was a first aid kit and an ambulance called.

He quickly grabbed a bottle of generic vodka before settling in by her side again. He held it out to her. “One swig then you’re done.”

She hesitated as she took the bottle. However she knocked it bag quickly, wincing as the taste settled in. She shoved the bottle back into Tim’s hand to let him disinfect her very bloody stab wound.

“This is gonna hurt.” He didn’t allow her time to respond before he moved her shirt out of the way and generously poured it over the wound, ensuring no part was left uncoated.

Tim tried to avoid her wince of pain. Their relationship was strictly professional; it was in theory anyway. If anyone asked Tim he would say that they were dedicated but they were a detective so they couldn’t be that great. But he would want to answer about how kind and compassionate they were. He would want to talk about how their sense of humours align or how they’re always in sync, like two halves of a whole.

But he had a relationship with someone on the force before. What happened with Isabelle broke his heart, and Tim knew that he couldn’t put himself in that position again. So he would resign himself to tending to her wounds and caring for her whenever he can.

Masterlist | Whumptober Masterlist

@ailesswhumptober

[newobsessionweekly]

Diamonds and dreams

Tim Bradford x Buckley!reader

Crossover The Rookie x 911

Fandoms: The Rookie, 911

Summary: Tim teams up with your brother, Buck, to plan the proposal. You get hurt in the process, unintentionally, but it's for a good cause.

A/N: Another crossover, and I don't think I'll stop here. I love so much both Tim and Buck. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and I'm open for requests! I'm sorry if I made some mistakes while writing, english is not my first language, but I'm trying to improve. Thank you so much for your support so far. Take care of yourselves, bubs! I appreciate everything single one of you! Lots of love! ❤️

Warnings: Swearing ? Maybe. Bunch of fluff and banter anyways. Not proofread yet

Fluff | A bit of angst

Requested: No

Words: 4.9k

Requests are open for Tim and Buck.

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

For the past three years, your life took unexpected twists, one after one. You didn't know back then how impactful a police officer doing his job would be to your life. You never expected to fall for the all-so-serious officer, whose indignation spoke volumes in the presence of firefighters.

Tim had only one opinion about the other branch of first responders — reckless, not so sharp, and definitely idiots, but they mean well. That was before meeting you.

After a massive earthquake hit LA, the chaos that followed can't be described. People running around looking for the close ones, screaming, and a lot of pain. LAPD was sent on the streets to maintain order while LAFD rushed to rescue everyone in need. They were hand in hand and, for the first time in his life, Tim was following the orders of a firefighter— you.

He complained at first, but when he understood you were more than a reckless woman, he obeyed. Back then, Tim saw in you a seriousness that made him eat his words. The way you pushed yourself aside for the safety of the civilians, the way you disobeyed the book in a risky situation, questioning everything you knew for the people. You allowed him to help, and he was there by your side the whole time, mesmerised by the way you gave everything you had, pushed away any fear and doubts and crawled into wrecked precincts to save every single one of them.

There was a huge difference between the two branches of first responders. LAPD was trained to save the law, maintain order, protect the vulnerable and punish the guilty, while LAFD was trained to protect and save regarding the guilty and they've seen unimaginable things, making them aware the life is short and you need to cherish it every second.

And when you showed him that ugly side of your job, Tim never saw you the same again. Drawn by your determination and dedication to save every soul and by your love and beauty you carried around, he fell for you, hard.

But he never accepted the real dangers of your job. Actually, he never accepted that your dedication was so profound, that you'd give your life to save another without second thoughts. He couldn't bare the thought of losing you some day due to your 'dedication'.

You’re both standing in the middle of the living room, the air thick with tension that’s been building for weeks. Tonight’s argument was inevitable, ignited by the underlying fear and frustration that’s been simmering beneath the surface.

Tim’s heart pounds in his chest as he looks at you, his concern turning into frustration. He knows that firefighting is dangerous, but seeing you take unnecessary risks feels like a constant weight on his shoulders.

“Damn it, Y/N!” he exclaims, his voice loud and filled with anger. “You can’t keep ignoring orders and putting yourself in danger! You’re a firefighter, not a one-woman hero team!”

You clench your fists, feeling defensive, his words sounding like an accusation. “I know what I’m doing, Tim. Sometimes you have to take risks to save lives.”

“Fire isn’t something predictable,” Tim interjects, his voice firm. “When you're dealing with an armed suspect, you can see the next move in his eyes. But with fire? It's nothing like that and, when it happens, it's probably too late."

His words cut deep, and tears fill your eyes as you try to make him understand. You feel misunderstood, judged, and it hurts.

“Predictable or not, I trust my instincts,” you shoot back, your voice shaking. “Sometimes you have to go with your gut, Tim, not just follow orders blindly.”

"But at what cost?” Tim retorts, his face flushed with frustration. “How many times do we have to argue about this before you realize that you’re not invincible?”

Your eyes fill with tears, the weight of his words hitting you hard. “I’m not saying I’m invincible,” you reply, tears streaming down your face. “I just believe in doing whatever it takes to save lives, even if it means bending the rules sometimes.”

“Bending the rules?” Tim’s voice cracks, hurt evident in his expression. “Y/N, this isn’t a game. Lives are at stake, including yours!”

You’re openly crying now, the tears blurring your vision as you try to make him understand. “I need you to trust me, Tim. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“I need to be able to trust that you’ll come home safely,” Tim says, his voice softer now, filled with genuine concern. “I can’t keep worrying every time you’re on shift, wondering if you’re going to make it home in one piece.”

"But this is who I am, Tim. I can’t change that.”

Tim’s thoughts swirl with a mix of love, fear, and frustration as he watches you, torn between wanting to protect you and knowing he can’t control your choices. “I need some time to think,” he finally says, his voice filled with resignation.

Without another word, you grab your bag and head for the door, leaving Tim standing alone in the living room, his face a mask of regret and worry. As you make your way to Lucy’s apartment, the weight of the argument pressing down on you, you can’t shake the feeling that something has changed between you and Tim, something that might be impossible to repair.

You stand before Lucy’s door, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks streaked with tears. With a shaky breath, you knock softly as your heart is pounding in your chest. The door swings open to reveal Lucy’s shocked face, her eyes widening at your disheveled appearance.

“Y/N? What the hell happened?” Lucy’s voice is filled with concern as she wraps you in a comforting embrace, feeling the tension in your body.

Tamara rushes in, eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay?”

As Lucy's comforting embrace envelops you, a mixture of relief and despair washes over you. You lean into her warmth, grateful for the solace she provides amidst the chaos of your emotions. Tamara's worried expression only adds to the weight of the situation, highlighting the gravity of the rift between you and Tim.

"I’m so sorry,” you stammer, tears threatening anew. “I didn’t know where else to go. I can't go to Buck like this and –"”

Lucy steps back, creating space for you to enter, "You're always welcome here, Y/N. You know that."

Lucy leads you to the couch and wraps her arm around your shoulders as you found a small measure of comfort in her presence. The unspoken understanding between you eases some of the ache in your heart, reminding you that you're not alone in this struggle.

Tamara places a comforting hand on your knee, her eyes filled with empathy as Lucy spoke, “Come on, tell us what happened."

You take a shaky breath, trying to steady your voice as you recount the intense argument with Tim. “We had a fight, a really bad one. He said he needed some time to think.”

Your love for Tim is boundless, a deep-rooted connection that fills your heart with warmth and joy. Every moment spent with him is a treasure, each shared smile and whispered promise a testament to the depth of your affection. And being so far from him, it was a nightmare. Leaving so abruptly, both of your anger and frustration bottled inside, this tore you apart.

Tamara’s eyes narrow, her tone incredulous. “Tim said that? What could possibly have happened?”

“He thinks I’m reckless, that I put myself and my team in danger,” you explain, the sting of his words still fresh in your mind.

The pain of your fight weighs heavily on your soul, a sharp ache that refuses to fade. His words cut deep, leaving you reeling with a sense of loss and betrayal. The thought of losing him, of facing a future without his love, is almost unbearable.

Lucy shakes her head, her eyes filled with empathy. “Tim’s always been by-the-book. He values rules and order. But being a firefighter isn’t always black and white.”

You nod, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “Exactly. But he just won't listen.”

Lucy sighs, her eyes softening with understanding. “Tim loves you. He’s just scared. Scared of losing you.” She can see the pain in your eyes, the uncertainty about the future of your relationship.

“I know,” you sniffle, trying to hold back the tears. “But it’s not just about him being scared. It’s about understanding who I am and what I do.”

Tamara nods, her expression thoughtful. “Sometimes love isn’t enough, Y/N. Sometimes two people can love each other deeply but still be incompatible in some ways.”

“I don’t want to lose him,” you say, feeling the weight of her words. “But I also don’t want to lose myself.” You grapple with the conflicting emotions, torn between love and self-respect.

Lucy chuckles softly, trying to lighten the mood. She stands up, heading to the kitchen to prepare some tea. “You won't lose him. He’s stubborn as hell, but he loves you. You know that."

Tamara smirks, leaning back on the couch. “Well, men are from Mars, right? We’ll never fully understand them.”

Lucy laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender. “True that. But hey, if anyone can knock some sense into Tim, it’s you, Y/N.”

Tamara smirks, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she leans back on the couch. “You know, Y/N, I like you more and more. Just so you know, everything you’ve said tonight will be used against Tim tomorrow.” She winks playfully, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Lucy’s going to make his shift a living hell.”

Lucy chuckles, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Oh, you bet I will. He won’t know what hit him.” She laughs, the tension in the room further dissipating with their playful banter.

You can’t help but laugh along with them, grateful for the light-hearted moment amidst the emotional chaos. “Just promise me you’ll go easy on him. He’s still my guy, after all.”

Yet, even in the midst of your despair, your love for him remains steadfast. It is a beacon of hope in the darkness, a guiding light that keeps you tethered to him, even when the distance between you feels insurmountable.

Tamara raises an eyebrow, her grin widening. “No promises,” Lucy says with a playful shrug.

You shake your head, chuckling at their antics. “Alright, alright. Just remember, I’ll have to deal with him after you two are done.”

After a moment of silence, Tamara's face brightens, an idea forming. “You know what we need? A girls’ night. We could all use a little distraction, right?”

Lucy grins, nodding in agreement. “Absolutely. Some wine, some movies, and some girl talk. It’s just what the doctor ordered.”

You smile weakly, grateful for their support. “That sounds nice.”

Meanwhile, across town, Tim and Buck find themselves in the comfort of Tim's living room. With beers in hand and the soft glow of the TV providing background noise, both men seem to have left the weight of the day behind them, engrossed in their own world of laughter and banter.

But Tim's thoughts are consumed by the image of you, tears staining your cheeks as you walked out the door. Each memory of your tearful departure cuts him deeply, a sharp pang of guilt and sorrow gnawing at his heart.

Buck takes a swig of his beer, glancing over at him with a curious expression. “So, how did the fight go?”

Tim sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I think I overstepped a little. She was crying and she left. It broke me to see her like that and let her go."

Seeing you hurt because of him breaks him in ways he never imagined. He would give anything to erase the hurt he's caused, to mend the fractures in your relationship. But he knows that sometimes love requires sacrifice, even if it means bearing the weight of your pain.

Buck nods understandingly, setting his beer down on the coffee table. "It's all part of the plan, Tim. We knew it would be tough, but it's for the best." He tries to reassure Tim, understanding the struggle his friend is going through.

Tim looks at Buck, gratitude in his eyes. "I know, I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing her hurt and knowing I'm the cause of it, even if it's for a good reason."

Buck places a comforting hand on Tim's shoulder. "At least this will buy us some time. Where's she now?"

Tim smiles slightly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "At Lucy's. She texted me when Y/N got there. She'll be crashing on Lucy's couch."

Buck chuckles, picking up his beer again. "Good, at least she's safe. Lucy will take care of her. She always does."

Tim nods, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, Lucy's been great. I'm glad she's there for Y/N."

The two men sit in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of their secret plan hanging in the air between them. It's a plan born out of love and a desire to create the perfect proposal for you, but it comes with its own set of challenges and emotions.

Buck's voice is filled with excitement. "You know, once all of this is over, and you've proposed, it's going to be amazing. Y/N is going to be over the moon."

Tim smiles, the vision of his future with you filling his mind. "I know, Buck. I can't wait to make her my wife."

Amidst the pain, there's a profound love that anchors him, a love so deep it eclipses the darkness of your current strife. You're more than just his partner; you're his rock, his solace, his reason for waking up each day with a smile. Your laughter brightens his darkest moments, your touch soothes his weary soul, and your presence fills his life with a sense of purpose and joy he never thought possible.

The two men raise their beers in a toast, their smiles reflecting the hope and love that fills their hearts.

Tim glances over at Lucy, his voice filled with concern. "How's Y/N holding up? I haven't heard from her since that night."

He can't shake the self-loathing that grips him, the regret for letting things escalate to this point.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "A bit pissed at you, but she's safe."

"I hate myself for that. I really don't like this whole...situation. Especially letting her go and forcing her to sleep on your couch."

He never wanted to hurt you, never intended for things to unravel like this. And the idea of you sleeping on Lucy's couch, away from him, fills him with a sense of emptiness he can't bear.

She chuckles softly, her tone teasing. "You could've called, you know. Women like that kind of thing."

Tim lets out a sigh, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I figured as much. I just thought... well, some space might be good."

Lucy's teasing only adds to his discomfort, her playful jabs hitting a little too close to home. He knows he should have done a lot of things, but fear and uncertainty held him back, clouding his judgment with doubt.

Lucy raises an eyebrow, “Space, huh? Sounds like a classic Bradford move. But you might want to pick up the phone. Y/N deserves to know you’re not pushing her away.”

Tim chuckles, shaking his head. "Trust me, I plan to. I just needed some time to... you know, plan everything out, to get it right."

Lucy grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "But you better make this worth it, you hear me?" She nudges him playfully. "And soon. She might love you and might be willing to wait for you, but don't test her patience."

Tim smiles, gratitude evident in his gaze. "I will, Lucy. And thanks, for everything."

Lucy waves him off with a chuckle. "Don't mention it. Just remember to thank me after she says yes." She winks at him, her smile warm and supportive.

You've been camping on the girls' couch for the past three days. It wasn't all that bad; some time off work was just what you needed, and your fight with Tim allowed you to sort through some old stuff.

When you were about to drift off to sleep again, Lucy burst into the living room. "Alright, couch potato, time to get up!”

You groaned, pulling a pillow over your face. “Five more minutes, Lucy.”

With a chuckle, Lucy yanked the pillow away and extended her hand. “Come on, Y/N. It’s time to get some fresh air. You can’t stay on my couch forever.”

Reluctantly, you accepted Lucy’s help to sit up. “What happened to ‘you’re always welcome here’? My free stay at Hotel Lucy is over?”

Lucy laughed. “Exactly. It’s check-out time, Missy.”

You smirked, slipping on your sneakers. "Well, send the bill to Bradford; he's the only one at fault for this."

With her keys in hand, Lucy grinned. “How about a ride along? A little patrol action might be good for you.”

Raising an eyebrow teasingly, you countered, “Trying to get rid of me, Lucy?”

She chuckled. “Just trying to help you get some fresh air. And maybe a little distraction.”

As you reluctantly rose from the comfort of Lucy's couch, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of hurt, confusion, and a desperate longing to mend things with Tim. But amidst the chaos, there was a glimmer of hope – hope that today could mark the beginning of reconciliation, of healing the wounds that had torn you apart.

“Alright, alright. But only because I’m craving some fresh, questionable coffee from the station.”

“Deal. But you’re buying the donuts!” Lucy teased.

“Deal. But only if they have sprinkles.”

Suddenly, Lucy stopped and appraised you, shaking her head. “Oh no, no. You can’t possibly leave the house like that. Off to the shower with you, you’re starting to smell like my couch.”

Stepping into the shower, the warm water washing away the remnants of doubt and insecurity as you made a silent vow to yourself. Today would be the beginning of a new chapter for you both, a chance to rebuild what had been broken and to forge a stronger, more resilient bond.

You returned to find some of your clothes laid out on the couch, courtesy of Lucy and Tamara. Raising an eyebrow, you turned to Lucy. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit extra?”

It wasn't exactly what you'd wear for patrolling, but considering Tim probably handed them to Lucy, you couldn't really complain.

Just then, Tamara emerged from her bedroom with a smirk. “You should be thankful I didn’t pick the outfit.”

You chuckled, wondering why she wasn’t at school. “Fair enough. Shouldn’t you be at school by now?”

Tamara waved it off, pulling out her makeup kit. “I’ll miss the first period to do your makeup. You owe me.”

Sighing, you looked between Lucy and Tamara. “Come on, girls. It’s just a day of patrolling. Nothing special.”

Lucy shook her head, her eyes serious. “No, hun. Today you’ll be right next to Tim. Breathing in his neck. You need to show him what he’s missing.”

The engine's soft hum reverberates through the car as Tim navigates the streets, the tension inside as thick as the fog rolling in from the bay. Lucy rides shotgun, her mischievous glances back at you adding to the palpable unease. Seated in the back, you stare out the window, attempting to distract yourself with the passing scenery, anything to escape the suffocating silence.

Lucy's voice cuts through the tension like a knife, her cheeriness a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere. "Hey, Bradford," she chirps. "How about we make a quick stop for some coffee and donuts? My treat."

Tim's eyes flicker to the rearview mirror, briefly meeting yours before he nods. "Sure, sounds good."

Pulling into a local coffee shop's parking lot, Lucy practically leaps out of the car, leaving you and Tim alone for a fleeting moment.

"You could've called," you murmur softly, finally breaking the suffocating silence. "Three days, Tim."

Tim's grip tightens on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I know, Y/N. I'm sorry. It's... it's complicated."

Before you can delve deeper, Lucy returns with a tray laden with coffee and a box of donuts. She hands you a cup before settling into her seat, her eyes glinting with an inscrutable knowingness.

As Tim lifts his coffee to his lips, you notice the slight tremble in his hand. "Everything okay, Tim?" Lucy inquires, her innocence a thin veil over her ulterior motives.

Tim clears his throat, averting his gaze. "Yeah, just a bit tired, I guess."

Lucy's smirk is unmistakable as she reaches for a donut. "Well, these should help with that."

Taking a sip of your coffee, you feel its warmth spreading through you, but it does little to dispel the tension in the air. However, there's a shift—a subtle change in the atmosphere. The silence is no longer suffocating; instead, it's pregnant with anticipation, each breath heavy with unspoken words.

Finally, Tim speaks, his voice laced with vulnerability. "Y/N, about the fight... I never meant to hurt you. I just needed some time to sort things out."

You meet his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes tugging at something deep within you. There's a weight to his words, a heaviness that speaks volumes about the distress he's been wrestling with.

As the shop continues its journey, the tension remains, but it's tempered now by a sense of curiosity and cautious hope. Unbeknownst to you, Tim's anxiety isn't solely about your relationship, and Lucy's scheming grin betrays her satisfaction with how her plan is unfolding.

Throughout the day, Tim's behavior had been perplexing, he carefully avoided any calls that hinted at danger. It felt as though he was intentionally shielding you from harm, a protective barrier wrapped around you even as you yearned for the adrenaline rush of the job.

But the tranquility of the day shattered with Nolan's urgent call for backup. The gravity of the situation hit you like a sledgehammer, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins.

“Dispatch, this is Officer Nolan, requesting backup at my location. Officers under fire, need immediate assistance,” Nolan’s voice is clear and urgent.

Without hesitation, Tim accepts the call, urgency in his voice for the first time that day. “Roger that, Nolan. We’re en route.”

Tim accelerates towards the scene, the Griffith Observatory coming into view. The iconic building stands majestically atop the hill, its silhouette against the clear blue sky adding a surreal beauty to the unfolding situation.

As you arrived on the scene, the deafening sound of gunfire filled the air, drowning out any semblance of normalcy. Lucy and Tim sprang into action, their movements swift and purposeful as they navigated the chaos.

"Stay in the car, Y/N!" Tim's command pierced through the chaos, his tone leaving no room for debate.

But as you sat there, the abrupt silence that followed sent a chill down your spine. Lucy's panicked cry for Tim shattered the stillness, sending your heart into overdrive, “Bradford!”

Ignoring Tim's orders, you bolted from the shop, desperation fuelling your every step. The scene before you was a tableau of chaos and confusion, the beauty of the Observatory juxtaposed against the violence that unfolded within its walls.

You searched frantically for any sign of Tim or Lucy, all you found was Tim's abandoned radio, a silent witness to the turmoil that had unfolded.

The setting sun cast long shadows, casting an eerie glow over the scene, a reminder of the fragility of life in the face of danger. And the tension is electric, like the calm before a storm. Tim’s voice crackles through the radio, cutting through the silence.

“Y/N Buckley, can you hear me?"

Tim's heart races with anticipation as he waits for your response. He's nervous, hoping that you'll hear him clearly. He wonders if you'll be able to sense the nerves in his voice, hoping that you'll understand the significance of what he's about to do.

Grinning, you grab the radio. “Loud and clear, Bradford” you replied, your voice steady but your pulse quickening with each passing second.

A pause stretches out, thick with anticipation. “Close your eyes, Buckley. And this time, try not to defy a direct order.”

Rolling your eyes but intrigued, you humor him and shut your eyes, taking a deep breath of the crisp air, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. You focused on the sound of Tim's voice, letting it wash over you like a warm embrace as he began to speak.

"You and I, Y/N, we’re a wild ride,” Tim starts, his voice unexpectedly tender. “Who would’ve thought our journey would lead us here, to this crazy, beautiful moment?”

As Tim's voice crackled through the radio, a surge of nervous energy swept through him. He had rehearsed his words a thousand times in his mind, but now that the moment was upon him, he couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt.

The weight of the ring in his hand served as a reminder of the gravity of the situation, filling him with both excitement and trepidation.

A soft touch grazes your hand, sending a thrill up your spine. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“You challenge me, drive me nuts, and somehow make me a better man,” he continues through the radio, a hint of a smile in his voice. “And damn it, I love you for it.”

You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. As you listen, you feel tears prickling at the corners of your closed eyes. Tim's words resonate with you, stirring something within yourself that you can't quite put into words.

You want to open your eyes, to see the man you love more clearly, but you also want to savor this moment a little while longer.With each word, you feel your heart swell with love for Tim. His vulnerability, his honesty, it all takes your breath away, leaving you utterly captivated.

"Open your eyes, sweetheart," Tim's voice breaks through your reverie, pulling you back to the present moment.

With a flutter of excitement, you obey, slowly parting your eyelids to reveal the sight before you. There is Tim, his eyes filled with love and longing as he slowly kneels down before your eyes, a small velvet box in his hand. The sight of him, vulnerable and trembling, fills you with a sense of awe and gratitude as the setting sun casts a golden halo around him, the cityscape stretching out behind him in a breathtaking panorama.

Tears of joy well in your eyes as you take in the sight of the ring in his hand, your heart overflowing with love for the man who means the world to you.

“Y/N Buckley,” Tim’s voice wavers just a bit, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you are stunned into silence, your mind reeling with the weight of his question. You feel a surge of emotion welling up inside, threatening to spill over at any moment. This is it, the moment you've been dreaming of, the moment you've been waiting for since you laid eyes on Tim, few years back.

Tim chuckles, a nervous but endearing laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

"Yes, Tim. A thousand times, yes!" your voice choked with tears, as your words ring out into the night, a declaration of love and commitment that echoes through the air.

With a trembling hand, Tim slips the ring onto your finger, sealing their promise with a simple yet profound gesture. As your eyes meet once more, you share a moment of perfect understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the love that binds you together.

Without another word, you're in each other's arms, holding onto each other tightly as if trying to make up for all the time you've lost. In that moment, nothing else matters but the overwhelming love you share, a love that has weathered every storm and emerged stronger than ever before.

Tim's lips meet yours in a tender kiss, a sweet yet passionate embrace that speaks volumes more than words ever could. You cling to each other, lost in the intensity of your emotions, your hearts beating as one in the darkness.

As you pull away, breathless and flushed with emotion, you share a smile that lights up the night. In each other's arms, you find solace and strength, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you'll face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart.

Nolan chimes in through the radio, his voice filled with laughter. "Bradford, are we breaking out the champagne or what?"

Tim's smile widens at Nolan's words, and he glances over at you with a playful twinkle in his eye. "Hold off on the champagne, Nolan," he replies, unable to suppress a laugh. "She said yes."

Murmuring softly, Tim leaned in close to your ear. "I guess I didn’t mess this one up, huh?"

You chuckled softly, leaning into his embrace. "Not this time, Bradford."

[raenegade-accio]

Beware the following mindless deranged rambling that randomly hit me at 3am, but I can't be the only one who felt this way when playing for the first time...

Not having Officer Singer conspiring with Rookwood was a big fat missed opportunity

And whether it was intentional or not, it was all perfectly laid out for a plot like this since the start!

From her first theatrically heroic appearance in Hogsmeade:

As a Magical Law Enforcement Officer, I assume Singer is equipped with the basic knowledge of evacuation procedures e.g. steeling all persons away from the ongoing threat and ensuring they exit the area safely.

But what did she do instead?

Luring the massive troll into rampaging further into Hogsmeade, leaving a pair of 15-year-olds completely out in the open, vulnerable to new imminent dangers. And sure enough, as soon as MC and Natty/Sebastian were alone, another troll bursted in, mere seconds after Singer left the scene.

What's not to say she was only there to clear of any potential civilian witnesses, using the first troll to scare them away under the guise of doing her job, while the second troll quickly comes crashing in, with MC being served up in a silver platter.

Later we saw Singer comes running back and is understandably surprised to see MC unscathed. We get this strange piece of dialogue:

She didn't bother assessing, or at least securing the crime scene when it's literally the first step to ensure an initial investigation can later be conducted properly. Instead she does the complete opposite by having someone else to practically wipe it clean of anything worth further investigating; there definitely would’ve been debris or bits of damaged armour with lingering traces of dark magic, now all gone. Then she just vanished, leaving a couple of teenagers alone in an deserted area, again.

Later we meet Rookwood for the first time.

From here we learned that Rookwood watched the whole incident unfold, implying he planned to abduct MC at the first chance he got, one which Officer Singer very conveniently provided. The only thing stopping him was seeing the new kid had absolutely Thanos-ed a troll using an unfamiliar form of magic.

And he wasn't exactly discreet either. Rookwood, an infamous criminal gang leaders was allowed to so nonchalantly wander around Hogsmeade in the broad daylight and it was clear he could to barge into public establishments whenever he wanted while openly threatening a pair of minors. A Dark Wizard who was now actively stalking a literal child got to walk away scot-free. Pretty lenient...

At this point it wouldn't be too outrageous to say Singer is systematically participating in organised wizarding crime. Here's an interesting piece of dialogue from Rookwood:

"Favours." now we have proof that Rookwood somewhat has a little power in the Ministry. There could've been a transactional relationship between Rookwood and Singer too.

British policing wasn't exactly well liked; venal and corrupt as it was, elite officers colluding with criminals weren't new.

Assuming it applied to the Wizarding World too.

At the era HL takes place (the 1800s), bribery and cover-ups were daily occurrences, which could garner favours that often came from the very criminals from whom corrupt officers have collected in exchange for "turning a blind eye".

This one's a bit of a stretch to be honest, but it may have explained how Rookwood evidently was able to be as active as he was for "months." And it certainly would make more sense in how Singer maintained keep her position a lawwoman that's reputable and admired by the locals as long as she did despite her blatant inactions, considering the possibilities he helped pulled some strings.

It'd be too easy to claim Officer Singer was never fired simply by theorising the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were as unfit, unintelligent and incapable as the forces from the Victorian Metropolitan Police.

But it's later found out the locals felt very differently:

People trusted her, relied on her. They felt safe whenever she's near and all have nothing but praises for her.

Imagine the potential - the level of public outrage and betrayal - among the common folk, that the person who was supposed to defend them has been aiding the Ashwinders extorting, threatening and bullying them this whole time, possibly allowing said group access to all the needed private information to terrorise them even further (e.g. their names, private residences, workplaces and occupations, and all that of their loved ones, too)

This can easily be backed up by Natty’s questline: A Basis for Blackmail

We meet a few of the victims - targeted by Theophilus Harlow, another notorious Ashwinder leader and Rookwood’s right hand man - most notably Mr Isko Rabe and his wife.

Harlow knew their names, where Mrs Rabe worked (Gringotts), what she and her husband do for a living (bank security and curse breaker) and where they lived (to plant the threatening note and destroy their garden). Both careers are as high profile as they are dangerous, so it’s not surprising Mrs Rabe was approached about extorting the bank itself. What is disquieting was that their private homes were infiltrated a little too easily, especially concerning her husband is a talented curse-breaker.

Interestingly, Mrs Rabe and officer Singer were likely colleagues (as per the cutscene of the first Hogsmeade troll attack, you can see Mrs Rabe following closely behind Singer). Someone with Singer’s position would have all the necessary connections and know-how to learn all she needs to someone of lower rank, especially when divulging them to a powerful gang leader she may had been conspiring with…

—

I got so excited because I was convinced there would be a twist of some sort, where we may get to pull a Houdini or a Scooby-Doo then unmask Singer as another sleazy dark witch that's been undercover and lying to the locals for years, secretly exploiting with Rookwood and manipulating the same people she's meant to protect.

I was so mentally prepared for the scandal, already so gleefully imagining the reactions of the villagers, the teachers or students from the sheer betrayal after speaking so highly of her and putting so much trust in that woman.

Imagine my disappointment when I find that she really was just hilariously incompetent 😂

Shit, even MC themselves pointed this out ( after local businesses were being extorted and a student was just kidnapped by a group of adults:

I can always incorporate this post in the fic, that'd be fun.

[hijinxinprogress]

I need the jl to discover that Captain Marvel is a menace

Billy gets arrested as Captain Marvel and he’s just a smug menace the whole time despite being on comms with the league “Of course, I understand the seriousness of this situation! I will absolutely comply, I completely understand that you need the code…the code is 1-3-1-2. Also, I want my lawyer 😇” which gets leaked to the press both audio and visual which leads to the jl claiming that CM had been impersonated and their only evidence is the stupid ass grin on his face

The jl was investigating the misuse of a magical artifact and discovered that a group of police officers had joined a cult. Before they had the chance to gather the evidence proving those officers guilty but they’d already sealed away the artifact so Marvel suggested getting himself arrested to incriminate them and he was a little too happy about it

Let’s be honest, Billy only gets caught by the police bc he can commit to a bit and he’s pretending to be an ancient magic immortal so why would he run from a regular civilian human?? But on the inside Billy is dry heaving and sobbing bc he knows that the police could never catch him on his worst day even if he was personally broadcasting his location

Speaking of broadcasting isn’t Billy a fucking radio host?? I know he’s a fucking asshole during commercial breaks “This next commercial reminds me of a recent encounter with officer smith who got lost three blocks from his station” and it cuts to a fucking toilet paper commercial (people swear they heard him mutter ‘bc you’re absolute shit at your job’)

Sometimes people will call in to debate his views on the police and he’ll have a three hour philosophical debate but actual cops will call in to argue with him and Billy’s making your mom jokes and playing air horn noises or 2016 vines like a fucking child 

Billy probably gets caught when he graduates high school bc his yearbook quote is like marvels most well known quote “Captain Marvel coast city precinct, interrogation room 5 (Oct 14 XXXX) 3:37-4:31” billy added too much information and it gets flagged by the watchtowers security system so the jl has a meeting about the breach in security and Marvel’s like ‘yeaaahh, that was me mb’ and batman is making disapproving noises bc ‘this is serious, Marvel! high school graduate, William-’ he can’t finish bc Marvel’s gagging dramatically ‘Billy. It’s Billy ohmygod’

batman, on the verge of a breakdown: who is this kid?? Why does he know the time, date, and location of an undercover league operation??

Marvel, avoiding eye contact with Cyborg who helped picked out his outfit for the yearbook photo currently being projected: ahaha about that…

Cyborg, who distinctly remembers telling Billy not to do anything fucking stupid: 😐

(Vic has framed the picture of the ‘oh shit’ look on Billy’s face when superman lunges across the table damn near in hysterics)

[xan-izme]

Across the Spidervers x Venom!femReader {Bad ending}

(Reader is Māori)

Summary: Reader was one of the Spidey's that helped Miles save his city from disaster. She returns home, a little while later, Gwen comes to recruit Reader. But this don't go very well.

TW: character death, mental health, trust issues, betrayal, cursing, held captive, traps, mentions of killing

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—––—–—–

You were Spider woman. Yes, you knew that. Your uncle knew that and your friends from other dimensions knew that too! Friends who you missed dearly.

The life as Spider-woman would be tiring at times, but the felling of knowing that the city where your family and many other families live are safe; Was something you needed to know an able to sleep.

But you felt so alone. Missing your friends, missing swinging through a city with them and defeat evil. Joking around and the small meal breaks. You haven't been able to connect with others that much after becoming Spider-woman, it seemed like crime happened everywhere every day.

One day, when you were going against another villain, who was actually a very new one to you.

"So uh, what are you supposed to be? --" You swung up in the air, dodging the attack.

"Some, Super . . .goo?" You watched as dark gooey liquid drip off from it's deformed body.

'Ew'

"You . . . die!" The monster shouted. The thing picked up a large bolder from the wrek and threw it twards you.

You shot your webs at the bolder and jumped up, throwing it right back at it.

"That's not a really nice thing to say man." You continue with your witty comments when trying your best to take down the monster. Then suddenly, the thing begins to glitch. This gave you a little heart attack, knowing the feeling all too well.

"I see, you're from another dimension." You mumbled as the monster's glitching was a little long.

Suddenly, the gooey thing shot itself at you. Luckily you got out the way. But the goo stuck onto you, making your foot and hand stick to the ground and wall.

"Mother--nature!" You shout in frustration.

"Spider-Woman!" You hear a familiar voice shout. You quickly turn your head to see your father, captain of the Brooklyn police force. You clear your voice before speaking in a deep voice.

"uh- Stand back! no need for assistance Captain l/n!" You shout back at your dad who had other officers behind him, ready to engage. You used all of your strength to get your foot out of the goo that had harden instantly. After breaking your foot free. You kicked at whatever the gooey monster threw at you.

Suddenly, some portal opened up. Thats when a figure quickly shot out of it. It didn't take you long to realize who it was.

"Gwen!" right when you and Gwen were away from the civilians, you couldn't help your excitement to hug the living hell out of the blond. Gwen laughed.

"It's nice to see you too." Gwen laughed out as she hugged you back. Gwen began to tell you about the Spider Society and how she wanted to recruit you. She told you the higher up wanted to meet with you about a serious situation that was to happen in your universe.

You got concerned for a moment. You cared about your city and everyone in it. So, if your wold is in trouble, then you would of course get involved.

Gwen gave you a day pass bracelet so you wouldn't glitch like crazy. Before entering the portal, you looked back, wondering what your other family members were doing at the moment. Hoping they would be safe.

The Spider society was honestly amazing. You met and had some fun with people who were like you. You felt so happy, smiling non-stop. Gwen laughed as you acted like a child in a candy store.

Then you both stopped big doors. "Miguel said he wanted to meet with you alone. Y-you alright with that?"

You smiled, a little nervous to meet the big boss of this whole thing. But you reassured her and walked in alone. Before the doors closed, your turned around and gave her a thumbs up and said, "Wish me luck."

The doors closed. It was a little dim, but you were able to see good enough. You breathed in and calmed yourself down, pulling your mask down and walking to where you see more light coming from a specific spot in the big room.

"Uh- H-hello? Mr. O'Hara?" You see a man in a dark blue and red suite. The aura around the man made you nervous, his built just added on to your little fears. You cleared your throat and straightened up.

"I'm Y/n L/n. I was told you wanted to see me . . . sir?" Miguel got closer to you with a stoic look on his face.

"We know who you are kid." Miguel spoke. You frown at the word 'we' and search the room and see a woman who was. . . pregnant. You were a little confused, and worried.

"Um. . . don't y'all get like, paternity leave or something?" You pointed out at the woman. Miguel ignored your comment.

"Where's Gwen?" His words sounded like a question, but not at the same time. "She said you wanted to see me alone. Hey, I kind of need to be back soon. No disrespect sir, but I got school and stuff. . . " You cringed at how dumb you sounded.

Miguel and the woman in the room gave each other a look.

Miguel began to explain the problem.

Apparently, ever since your time in earth 1016, your experience there had changed your mindset on a lot of things, including certain things that were a part of your 'canon' as Miguel called it.

"What . . . what's wrong with that?" You were generally confused, what part of your canon did you accidentally prevented.

Lyla then showed multiple canon events, all the same, all that had happened in different universes.

"Every Spidey loses someone, most of them fall in love and most of them lose that lover. For you, your canon involves family members."

"What?"

"Now we don't know which of your family members would die--"

"The hell, if that supposed to make me feel better!?" You were getting upset, rightfully so.

"Look kid, we know this is hard for you to take in." The woman known as Jessica spoke up. ''But you are your own anomaly, the more you stay with your family the way you are doing at the moment, the more damage you'll inflect on your world."

"Wha- . . . You can't just tell me one of my family members are going to die and tell me not to fucking interfere. My mother is pregnant! my siblings are literally toddlers, my dad- he just got his new position as captain." Your mind was going into a panic, you can't lose any of them. Your family was your whole world, you already lost someone you can't afford to lose again. You know deep inside if you lose anyone else, you'll brake.

And there is nothing you are more afraid of then braking.

Miguel sighed. "I'm sorry kid, but let's be honest. If it weren't for Miles Morals, you wouldn.t be in this situation." Miguel spoke as multiple other Spider people surrounded you. You frown and look around to see all of them.

"What . . . what's going on? . . . Where's Gwen!" Suddenly a gadget was tossed to your feet. And before you could react, a forcefield was put up around you.

And that, that is when you freaked out.

"Once this timer goes off, that is when we set you free. Just a few days kiddo."

Your eyes shifted to the timer. 2 days.

You shouted, banged on the forcefield, used as much strength as you could to try and get out.

"LET ME OUT! GWEN! GWEN HELP ME!" You shouted for your friend. You shouted for help. But alas, no aid came to you.

"Please Y/n. The more you struggle the harder it will be for us." You hear someone say, but you ignore and keep slamming your body against the transparent walls.

Then suddenly your Spidey senses tingled. You look around the room, then you noticed a familiar white and black suit. "Gwen! Gwen help me! Please help!"

Gwen walked up to you. She stared you in the eyes, your face expression dropped when you noticed the look of pain in her eyes. Gwen held herself and turned away from you. "Gwen . . .?"

"You did good Gwen." Jessica began to pat Gwen on the back. Your eyes widen in utter disbelief. "Gwen? Gwen!" You began to bang on the forcefield, tears already threatening to fall. Your face was covered by your mask, but everyone can hear your voice cracks.

Betrayal was all you felt as you continued to try and claw out of the forcefield, for a moment you were almost successful. Then Miguel was able to put on hologram like chains to chain you on the ground to prevent you from clawing at the barrier.

The timer went off. You watched the multiple zeros blinking. Your body felt limp, weak as the forcefield and chains disappeared. Miguel had opened a portal. You ignored him and Jessica as you chanted the names of each family member, slowly going through the portal.

The moment you stepped through, it was chaos. Your families' names repeating in your head praying to all the Gods you knew of to please spare your family.

Finally, you found a familiar body, laying limp under some ruble. Swinging down quickly, you used your strength to get the man free.

Taking your mask off, you lifted the upper half of your father's body.

"Papa" You whisper out. Moving away his hair that was in the way of his face. His eyes slowly opened to see you, his beautiful strong daughter.

"Y/n . . . ko Koe." His voice was small, but firm. You smiled through your tears.

"Yes, it's me." Your vision would get blurry here and there, but the tears would immediately fall the moment you blinked.

"You are in trouble. You were late for dinner." Your father reached up to cup your face. Just for him to pinch your cheek. Even when close to death, he still scolds you.

It didn't take long for him to lose consciousness. You cried and held his body close. Rocking back and forth as you prayed and prayed. Begging for any god to help you.

You didn't notice Gwen slowly approaching you. She mends down and watches as you cradled your father's body in your arms. Gwen reached her arm out and held your shoulder.

"We have to go, before the police get here--"

"Tuku- Tukua--"

"We need to go Y/n--"

"Tukua ahau!" You smacked her hand away and stood up. Hot tears running down your face.

"I whakarerea ahau e koe!" You began to shout in your native tongue. Frustrated, hurt, betrayed.

And the feeling of dishonor you had brought onto yourself was the worse feeling overpowering everything else.

"You are no friend of mine.''

Those words shattered Gwen.

"Leave. GO! Never return." Gwen stumbled back as you returned back to your father. Holding him back in your arms, half expecting him to hold you back.

Overtaken by grief and betrayal, you refused to let the Spider society to help with the anomalies, only you deal with them and send them in a portal back to HQ.

You gained a new power, discarding your tittle as 'Spider-woman', and taking on the tittle 'Venom'.

Venom was, well-- Venom was a handful at first. But Venom helped you become stronger. Helped you defend your city and your family.

Your family took a big hit by the loss of your father.

Sighing as you sat down on the clock tower. Looking over the city, wondering how Miles was doing. Hoping the boy didn't get caught up with Gwen and Peter B.

Miles was probably the only one you still saw as a friend.

'Hungry'

You groan "We already ate Venom."

'You call that food? That was nothing but a maar snack. I want something more! something fresh~"

"Okay one, ew. Two, I'm on a diet."

You hear Venom scoffed. 'Your diet is ew' Venom spoke in a mocking tone. Causing you to roll your eyes.

Out of nowhere, a portal opened up. You were fast on your feet. The portal was a little different from the others, making you stay on guard even more. That's when Multiple Spider people came out.

One specifically that came out angered you in multiple ways. You stayed in place, staying silent.

"Y/n! we need your help!" Gwen came running to you. You silenced out her words and focused on the panic and desperation on her face.

You wonder, if you could just reject her, shun her out and watch the look of despair take over her. That sounded very satisfying.

"Please, say something. Anything! I know what I did was unforgivable, but--" You stayed silent as Gwen was practically begging.

You look up to see some old friends, and new people. You stared at Peni for a moment.

You passed Gwen and walked towards the young teen who was in a new model of her robot.

". . .Nice ride."

Peni's eyes widen at the familiar words that brought back a nice memory. Peni chuckled "Thanks. . . nice suit."

The two of you shared a few seconds of silence. Peni jumped out of the robot and hugged you. You were quick to hold her tight.

You're not blind, it's clear all of you have suffered one way or another.

You set Peni down.

You turned your head to Gwen.

"I have told you to never return." You spoke, your back still faced to the blond. "I know! But Miles-" Gwen was cut off by your hand that rose up to silence her.

"I know of Miles and his situation. But I have my universe to protect. A family I need to keep alive." You walked further away from the group. Venom forming in and taking over at the last word.

"My answer will be the same answer you gave me when I begged you for help."

You will not forgive the ones who hurt you, betray you or your family. Right now, you don't care about anyone else but the ones you have now. You refuse to risk it. Refuse to gamble the lives of your siblings and mother.

And never, will you ever risk your honor, and the honor of your father.

Okay, before ya'll bash me about the Māori part, I know adding on a culture is a little off for many. I just wanted to add on a Māori reader because I don't see many representations of them. So, if any of my Māori readers dislike this, I will gladly change it.

[section-chief-prentiss]

Midnights Chapter 1: Wake

Collection Summary: A collection of one-shots of sleepless nights between you and Emily. 

Chapter Summary: You wake up after a nightmare and Emily comforts you. 

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader 

Word Count: 897

Ao3

“Where is she?” you asked, not even bothering to close the car door behind you as you ran toward Hotch.

Hotch’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “Y/N—”

“She did not go inside without backup,” you said, hoping if you said it forcefully enough that it would be true. “She did not go into a massive warehouse after a known bomber by herself.”

Hotch’s lack of response was all you needed.

“Give me a vest,” you said, holding a hand out.

Behind Hotch, Morgan reached for an FBI vest, but Hotch held a hand up to stop him. 

“I can’t let you do that,” he said.

“Hotch, she’s my partner. What if it was Haley in there?” 

Hotch grimaced. “That would be different; Haley’s a civilian. Emily’s trained, and we sent the bomb squad in behind her.” 

“You can’t expect me to just stand here and do nothing!”

“I won’t risk sending in more agents when it isn’t necessary. She’s looking for the child the unsub kidnapped, not the bomber.”

“We profiled that the unsub would keep the child with him. If the building explodes—” you broke off, unable to finish the thought.

“Y/N, if you can’t compose yourself, I’ll have JJ take you back to the field office. We need to keep level heads in front of the public.”

You glanced behind him at the crowd that was forming behind the police barricade and hated that he was right. Even still, you had to bite down on the retort that was dying to surface, knowing that if you let it, it would be accompanied by several four-letter words that your superior was not likely to appreciate.

“Come here,” JJ said, wrapping an arm around you, and walking you out of earshot of your teammates.

“Why would she do that?” you asked, fighting back tears. “Why would she go in alone?”

JJ’s expression softened. “You know why. She’d never leave a child in danger if she could help it.”

At that moment, you hated your girlfriend’s compassionate heart. 

JJ reached a hand up to her earpiece, listening for something that you couldn’t hear, and smiled. “Emily has the girl. There’s no sign of the unsub, and she’s on her way back out.”

You breathed a heavy sigh of relief. You’d see her soon, and then your heart would be whole again.

You turned toward the building, your eyes jumping between each set of doors, wondering where Emily would emerge from.

It gave you the perfect view as the building went up in flames.

“No!” you screamed, breaking into a run before you could think about it. 

JJ’s arms were around you in an instant, holding you back. Morgan rushed over to assist her as you tried to fight out of their grasp.

“Let me go!” you sobbed. “Let me go! Emily! Emily!”

“Y/N,” another voice whispered. “Y/N, wake up. It’s okay.”

Your eyes flew open, and you pressed a hand against your racing heart. The bedroom around you was dark, but you’d know the soft scent of the woman next to you anywhere. 

“You were having a nightmare,” Emily murmured, stroking your hair. “You were screaming my name.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you were grateful to the darkness for concealing it. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to wake you.”

You rolled on your side to face your girlfriend, who was propped up on an elbow, looking at you with a mix of love and concern. 

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “I get them, too. Do you want to talk about it?”

You nodded, and Emily took your hand. 

“It was last week’s case,” you whispered.

“The bomber?” she asked, and you nodded.

“You didn’t make it out in time. The building went up with you in it.” 

She sucked in breath. “Oh, Y/N. But it didn’t; I’m right here.”

“It could’ve,” you said, gesturing toward a bandage on her arm, concealing a burn that was still healing. 

Emily and the little girl—Clara—made it out of the building, but not for lack of effort. The unsub caught up to them near the exit, and Emily was burned protecting Clara. In the end, they made it out alive, and the unsub was apprehended. 

But you hadn’t been able to shake the fear that had consumed you that day and followed you ever since.

“I’m sorry,” Emily said. “I’m so sorry for scaring you. I wasn’t thinking, and I know now if the roles had been reversed—” she stopped herself. “I wouldn’t be able to bear it, either.”

“Promise me,” you replied. “Promise me that you’ll wait for backup in the future. I know there’s always danger, but the thought of you facing a situation like that alone again paralyzes me.” 

“I promise,” Emily said, squeezing your hand. “And I’ll make it up to you.”

“I know,” you smirked, rolling over to face away from her. Moments later, Emily started rubbing circles on your back, immediately putting you at ease. She always knew the best ways to relax you.

You snuggled deeper under the covers as she continued making circles up and down your back, and you managed to murmur, “I love you,” as you drifted off to sleep.

Just before you did, you felt Emily peck a kiss on the back of your neck and whisper, “I love you, too.” 

Tag List: @yena-reyna, @propertyofemilyprentiss, @chaekhan, @obsessedwjill, @mrs-prentiss, @i-lovefandom Join my tag list!

[fallenwhumpee]

Back

• Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Masterlist •

Warnings: inexplicit injury, strangling, military settings.

Leader pulled their legs up, trying to fit into the narrow gap of the bus seat. They hugged their bag, not really liking the fact that it restricted their movements, but also refusing to keep it out of their range. They just wanted to leave before someone changed their mind and sent them back.

The bus filled slowly as Leader sat still. Their muscles tensed quite a little when someone sat next to them, but they covered it as if they were just fixing their position. They wondered if they could ever get used to civilian life after everything. They sighed and relaxed all their muscles, letting go of the tenderness and hoping that it would help with occasional tremors. 

When the bus's engine shook the whole vehicle, Leader let their head drop to their bag, their worn-down body begging for their mind to shut down. But as always, they were thinking too much, and it was impossible to sleep with strangers around. They simply kept staring around, trying to ease their suspicion.

Within the first hour on the bus, the majority of passengers fell asleep. Leader wished they were among that crowd, but they never got what they wanted. The seat in front of them leaned back not long after, cramping the small space even more. With a silent curse, they stretched their arms at least, beginning to feel sore already.

They thought that things couldn't get any worse. They were wrong.

After six hours of misery, the bus pulled over absurdly. Leader would hit their head if they weren't so squished to their place.

"Routine control, everyone out," an officer barked through the doors. Leader didn't move immediately, waiting until everyone had gone out and made their way to the officer who looked like they were in charge.

Leader took out their military ID, hoping it would get them a softer approach.

"That's not going to clear you," the officer muttered.

"I only wish to be searched in private," Leader replied. They knew their badge would clear them, but they didn't have the energy to do so. "If that's not much trouble, of course. I don't want to scare people because..." Leader opened their bag slightly, revealing the handle of their gun.

The officer eyed Leader warily before nodding. "Follow me," they said, directing Leader to the back of the police car.

Leader followed silently, gripping their bag tighter as they reached for their wallet to prepare their licence along with their badge marking them as a captain, even though the officer didn't spare a glance at it. The cool night air and the distant murmur of other passengers being searched filled the silence between them.

The officer took the paper as if they were ripping it. Leader was getting a bad feeling, but they didn't want to cause trouble. They were too tired for it anyway. With a sigh, they leaned on the car slightly, trying to get the weight off of their right side.

The officer eyed them, scoffing and muttering something about respect under their breath. They inspected the documents closely, his eyes narrowing as he read the details. "You've been discharged recently?"

"Yes," Leader answered, shortly and perhaps unnecessarily cold.

"Annual leave?"

"Medical leave. I shouldn't be on my feet for too long," Leader almost snarled. The officer - probably didn't notice or just ignored - simply pointed the bag. Leader complied, even if it was the last thing they wanted. They simply looked away, realising that they were truly nowhere. Their eyes were yet to adjust to the lights changing, and the flashers weren't helping, but there was nothing around.

Because that person standing in the middle of the road was just their weary mind playing tricks.

They turned back when the figure dissolved into the air.

The officer searched with such passion that Leader suspected that they had a personal vendetta against the military. Finally, the officer dropped their bag on the bonnet. "Everything seems to be in order. Pack your stuff inside the car."

Leader frowned. "Here will suffice. I'm not getting into the car if you're not arresting me."

"Just get in; I don't want to draw a gun against a soldier, and you seem decent enough to avoid trouble."

Why couldn't they have a peaceful day?

Leader sighed. There was no point in resisting. They quickly tucked everything back in their bag and got into the car. "At least tell me where we are going," they muttered, not bothering with the facade any longer. They were just as annoyed as the officer.

"The military base around here was adamant about receiving you."

Perfect, Leader didn't say. "Routine control my ass," they muttered instead, not able to stop it.

"I am not fit for duty," they informed the officer. Leader didn't think they would ever be, but self-pity wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"Not my problem. Tell that to your people."

Leader sighed quietly - again, they were beginning to develop it as a habit now, much to their annoyance - as they settled into the uncomfortable seat of the police car.

The journey to the military base was silent except for the occasional radio chatter from the officer's walkie-talkie. Leader busied themselves with memorising the names and following the sequence, and surprisingly, they found that they enjoyed listening to some cops trying to catch an amateur thief.

When the car stopped, the officer didn't say anything, but the door lock opened. Leader got out quickly and kept their bag in their hand. It was hard to see somewhere so bustling again. They felt like their mind was tugged with needles from every direction. They cursed their senses not for the first time, and watched as the police car left without a warning. 

Leader's shoulders tensed out of their control. They quickly walked to the base, showing their ID to the security. A private escorted them inside, no words exchanged. They were led to an interrogation room, which explained so little but confirmed Leader's worries.

Leader was ushered in without a word. They sat in one of the two chair - to the further one from the door as a sign of trust and acknowledgement of authority - and read the files before them. Their breath caught on their throat when they got to the second, however. 

Medic, missing in action.

The team was disbanded. How could...

They flipped the page. They wished they didn't. 

"I was going to ask you about that."

Leader flinched. "Major," they greeted with a rushed salute.

And nothing after that happened in a blink. Leader saw Major walking over them with a hostile face. They saw the hand rising and the leg swiping their foot. They saw the other hand starting to move to their stomach.

If the attack is coming from a friend, don't resist. 

Just like that. They didn't resist as they were slammed to the floor, their superior on their throat. Leader struggled to breathe as the punch shook their empty stomach, their hands grabbing the hand keeping them down, even though they were not doing anything to stop it.

"Why is your teammate kidnapping your medic?"

What?

"Don't look at me like that. What do you know?"

A punch to their face pulled them from the shock. 

"I don't know," Leader forced out. 

The hand around their throat tightened—

For once, they wanted to give in to the tempting anger. It would be so easy, so easy to crush the arms holding them, but their wishes never ruled over the will.

They were let go. Major offered them a hand, and Leader accepted it without a second thought.

"I didn't realise that their teachings went that deep. You could easily save yourself. I doubt this base can keep you in."

Leader doubted that too, especially when their restraints were getting loose every moment.

"Some things go deeper than simple teachings," Leader answered after realising that they had drifted for a moment. They pulled the chair and sat down, sighing to release some of the built tension.

"They made you from fine stuff. Now, any idea why one of your teammates went rouge and kidnapped the other?"

Leader's hand began to tremble. It was the worst possible time. They hid their hand with the other rather clumsily, drawing attention.

"Why do you run away from the only place that can fix you?"

"If I'm called back only for these questions, I wish to continue my leave," Leader bit back a harsher response. They would never walk back to the place that had broken them in the first place.

"No. Your leave ends before it starts. I want you back on your team— at least what left of it."

[runa-falls]

cat and mouse - 1

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Supervillain(?)!Reader

Warnings: none -- oh you get thrown into a vat of radioactive liquid, but it doesn't hurt too bad.

a/n: when you think of another fic idea in the middle of writing your other WIP :D

Summary: Every time you try to convince people it was an accident, you immediately get ratted out to the Spider. But really, it was! You don't know why you're being hunted, you didn't even do anything wrong. Yet.

w/c: 716

part 2 part 3 part 4

masterlist

----

Here’s a riddle:

“What do you get when you push an unemployed woman into a vat of radioactive liquid?”

Apparently, an unemployed enemy of the state. 

You were never the kind of girl who grew up ripping the heads off of your Barbies, or a woman who falls in love with a guy at the insane asylum. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

As soon as your head ducked under the burning liquid, you thought you were dead. So you let go and stopped struggling. But really, is there anyone in history who hasn’t survived being pushed into a vat of something?

For example, there's Electro with the eels, and Sandman with the, uh, sand, so you really shouldn’t have been surprised when you woke up with more energy than you’ve ever felt before, though your back was killing you.

Opening your eyes, you noticed you were splayed over a sidewalk, clothes barely covering you as most of the fabric disintegrated in the power plant. Then you saw fire. Lots of fucking fire.

With a quick turn of your head, your eyes followed the trail of destruction all the way back to the exploded building where the accident happened. And before you knew it, you were in cuffs, being questioned by the police.

It’s easy to break out of jail, especially when you can burn right through the iron bars. And it’s easy to lose the cops too when you can scale buildings.

Despite your increased strength, agility, and sensitized hearing, there are several setbacks to being a random woman full of radioactive energy. Your hair, for one, is completely orange. Who knew radioactive juices acted like cheap boxed bleach?

You constantly have to re-dye it back to your original shade and use tons of hair oil to keep it from frizzing up but it only really lasts for a day or two. Talk about having awkward one-night stands…

Unfortunately, your hair is the most recognizable feature of yours so civilians started to call you “Blaze” like some sort of Fantastic Four character. You hate it. 

You also can’t get a job because you’re the most wanted woman in Nueva York. So you resort to “borrowing” some money from rich people who definitely wouldn’t notice or care. And then you got caught.

“So it’s been you this whole time?” The low voice makes you jump. You weren’t expecting anyone to be home. “So you’re the one stealing hundreds of dollars from innocent civilians?”  The Spider-man slowly walks out from the shadowed corner of the office, making the moment as dramatic as possible. 

You quickly close whoever’s laptop you were trying to get into before holding your hands up in a dumb attempt to act innocent. He looks unimpressed by your ‘sneaky outfit’, eyes pouring over the black turtleneck and faded black jeans. Look, it’s not like you had a closet full of options.

You frown, “They’re hardly innocent.”

“Hm,” He slides the laptop toward himself, opening it up to see how far in you got. You didn’t. You were about to give up and leave before he interrupted you. “How so?”

You scoff without thinking about it, “You think a person can make billions of dollars without taking advantage of people?” Apparently, your words amuse him, and a small smirk quirks on his lips. The light of the computer reflects against his cherry red irises. He’s… pretty.

“All I know,” He shuts the laptop and finally looks up at you, dropping any hint of his previous smile. “Is that you blew up a power plant, escaped prison, and now live off of the money that you’re taking from others.”

“C’mon Spider-Man, it’s only a couple of bucks. I don’t have a job–”

“No kidding.” He shakes his head and takes a second to think about something before offering you a hand over the desk, almost like a peace offering. “Here’s my proposition: you come with me and we can get some dinner before getting you back to where you belong.” You quirk a brow upwards, suspicious of his change in tone. “Come on, it’s late. I’d rather avoid the fighting part.” 

“Back to…where?”

“Prison, honey.” 

That was the start of your cat-and-mouse relationship with the one and only, Spider-Man.

[racefortheironthrone]

What are your thoughts on Police Unions and calls to have them thrown out of the AFL CIO?

The last time that police unions actually acted like unions was the Boston police strike of 1919 (that unfortunately catapulted Cal Coolidge into national political prominence). After that, the basic labor relations between the state and police unions began to change in ways that are not recognizable as standard trade unionism.

The shift really began in the 1930s, when the rise of industrial unionism and attendant strike activity scared the shit out of the employers and their allies in government, because the usual Pinkertons and American Legion thugs were not enough to keep a lid on the situation. Hence the need to keep the police unions on the side of the employers rather than allow any possibility of siding with the strikers - thus you start to see police unions getting easily recognized, wage increases getting thrown around like candy, anything to keep the strikebreakers sweet.

However, it particularly morphed during the Second Great Migration (1940s through 1970), when the sudden emergence or at least rapid expansion of black populations in Northeastern, Midwestern, and Western cities scared the shit out of the municipal establishment in similar, yet distinct ways than the earlier union uprising had. In this period, an informal understanding was reached that the elected officials would block, slow-walk, or otherwise frustrate attempts by activists to impose accountability on police through civilian complaint review boards and other mechanisms, in exchange for police making upholding the racial hierarchy one of their enforcement priorities.

The expansion of grievance and arbitration procedures to include shootings and other acts of police brutality, written reprimands and other punishments from management, civilian complaints of abuse of power, officers' misconduct records and the extent to which they could be made public or even shared with future employers - the whole intricate mechanism by which police union contracts were turned into a bulwark against accountability - was part of this quid-pro-quo alliance between the state and police in the face of the emergent civil rights movement.

That's part of what slightly gives me pause about the left critique of police union contracts, because I think this alliance would have been constructed, maintained, and expanded over the decades whether or not police were unionized. The means would have been different, probably exercised through city charters, local ordinances, judicial precedents (even more so), but the ends would be the same. And if activists actually managed to eliminate a police union contract today, I'm absolutely confident that municipal government would rebuild it the next day, because they're absolutely scared of police slowdowns.

As to chucking them out of the AFL-CIO, it's not a bad thing per se, but I do want people to understand that it would be purely symbolic. The AFL-CIO is a union federation, it doesn't really have much in the way of direct authority over member unions, or exclusive access to resources that outpace what the member unions have. To give a historical example, the AFL-CIO expelled the Teamsters back in the 50s for being mobbed-up and it didn't change the Teamsters one bit - they kept on being mobbed-up until the Teamsters for a Democratic Union challenged the Hoffaites in the 70s and the Justice Department went after them with RICO charges in the 80s.

[lilislegacy]

HEROES OF OLYMPUS FANS

idea: young adult argo II crew being bamfs

i would sell my soul, and my best friend’s soul, and my sister’s soul, for rick to write a book with the argo II crew as young adults and just being absolute icons in a totally experienced way. no more questioning themselves like when they were young. they’re powerful and confident and nothing surprises them. they’re famous in the demigod world. they’re legends. they know what they’re doing. no one fucks with them.

i would have it start out kinda like how TLO began with percy and beckendorf’s mission. it would be like those movies where the main characters are breaking into some facility. only it’s some monster/olympian-enemy using said facility as a secret base for their operations (kinda like the amazons.)

it’s night. they’re all in dark clothes. annabeth and frank planned the whole thing. percy casually causes a massive explosion via a nearby water tank or something, causing a distraction and making everyone in the facility run out to see what’s going on. annabeth has the whole place mentally mapped out, and her and leo disarm every security system measure in like 3 seconds. frank turns into some kind of animal - maybe a monkey - and climbs/hops across the walls and ceilings, destroying the security cameras and sensors. any guards/civilians running past them only see what hazel wants them to see. and every monster who gets in their way is dead within seconds - they should not have messed with these demigods. piper plays on the fear of the guards to easily get information out of them. annabeth gets the objects they need, and then leo lights the entire place on fire. percy and leo can’t be burned, but percy protects the rest of them by triggering every sprinkler they walk under, which then turn off when they walk away. they calmly walk out through the front doors of the building - which is now up in flames - where there are dozens of police officers and firefighters and news channels around. they should be arrested/surrounded, except hazel manipulates the mist to make them all look like police officers and first responders. and frank is now a german shepard, a police dog, to really sell it. anyone who approaches them, piper uses charmspeak to throw them off. and just to be sure the enemy base is destroyed - and now that everyone is out of the building - percy causes a targeted earthquake, making the entire huge facility crumble to the ground.

then they just casually walk into the night, away from the mass chaos that they caused. the base is completely destroyed, but their enemies can’t figure out who did it or how it was done.

little do they know that the ones who did it just walked in and out, in plain sight.

[mamalunawolf]

Soap Mactavish || Never Gone but Lost Forever

TW: violence, language, mature ratings apply, some minor sexual content.

Minors do not read. And do not read if you are sensitive to violence and angst.

It felt like a century had passed since Johnny had died. Everyone grieved differently, Ghost kept on doing his missions. Over and over again. Captain Price, did the same. Missions. Either going to Urzikstan to see Farah. Or going to the states to see Laswell and her wife. Gaz, stayed behind. To keep an eye on you..

You were a different story. You were Soap’s everything. You were the calm in his storm. Soap loved you whole heartedly just like any damned fool. How those late nights were restless between the two of you. The way he would be on his knees like a helpless man towards the immortal. How his lips grazed over your stomach. To taste you like nothing else mattered anymore. How his calloused hands held your hips down just to caress your body. Every curve and contour of your body.

“You alright?” Gaz had spoken, knocking you out of your trance. The laptop had pulled up the old reports when Makarov was still out terrorizing the world. Having Johnny’s name pulled up, his photo on the side of the screen. A neutral expression on that Scottish man’s face. He was definitely the best. Clean sweep was what he was. You were trying to find means. A hope. That his ashes weren’t spread across Scotland Yard for nothing. If they were his ashes.

“Yeah. Fine. Just a little light reading.” You spoke, the exhaustion was there in your tone. And on your face. You closed your laptop and stood from the desk. Spilling the only good glass of wine you had that was on your desk. Thankfully, not a lot had ruined your paperwork. “I might head down to the gun range. Shoot some targets.” You suggested. More to yourself than anything. He could come, only if he wanted to.

“Need company? I think I need to get myself into my sniping practice. Cap’n got onto me for it. Again.” He chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. Only for you to nod and have him follow you out of your office.

—

Shot after shot rang through. Gaz seemed a little terrified that you managed to get each target in the heart or head. You practiced with Johnny too much to count. It was a good shot too. And each one better than the last. The TV behind them was playing. News reports of various things happening around the world.

“This just in! By the harbor was a report of a man taking down civilian casualties. Police have been informed and taking excessive action.” The reporter pans in view. A man in dark plated armor. Green lining into the suit. A black mask, covering over his mouth. The way his eyes stared down the camera before he shot it. Not allowing anyone else to see.

—

“Bravo six. This is Bravo 6-2 and 6-3. Coming in. We see the hostile.” Gaz and you were running. Preparing yourself for an incredible battle between what is right or wrong. Price heard the commotion and made you and Gaz team up and neutralize the target.

“Take the left! I’ll go right!” You had shouted at Gaz. Making sure no other enemy hostile was in the area except for the masked hostile that kept killing those in its wake. You had gotten closer to the hostile. Your gun raised and shooting bullets that did little to no damage. “Don’t move or I will use force!” And the hostile froze in place. Not a single step. Hardly any silence when the piercing screams of death was behind you. “Turn around. Now.” You demanded of him, the tone in your voice gave of some kind of authority.

“I won’t back down. I can’t do tha’ to ye.” He said, the undertone was calm. A little hostile and full of malice. The accent on the other hand was familiar. Scottish. As if you *knew* that voice before. Your eyes narrowed and you took a step forward.

“Soap?” You called out his name. The same lock of hair that trained down his head. His eyes like the oceans that always drew you in like a comfort and beacon of hope. He didn’t seem to know you, though. As his eyes were filled of confusion. The mask he dawned, covered his mouth. The hint of smugness if you could see that smirk on his face. Until Gaz came hurling in, and sent a punch to the face. He didn’t know, not until the mask flew off and johnny’s face appeared.

“Bloody hell.. Soap? Is that you, mate?” Gaz stood there cautiously, and stood in front of you as a protective shield. Johnny scoffed at you both. “Who the fuck is Soap?” He didn’t remember who he was and that painful feeling in your chest grew. He doesn’t remember you. He doesn’t remember the loving moments you shared.

“Johnny..Come on. Please… it’s me.” Your voice choked, you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders fall on you specifically. His eye twitched and he growled in his throat. He lunged forward with a running start and knocked Gaz to the ground. Johnny grabbed you by the throat and slammed you into the wall. “Johnny…please. Stop. This isn’t you.” You choked, your hands wrapped around his wrist and pleaded with him. Begged. His eyes. As if he remembered a little bit of your past together. “Don’t I mean anything to you?” The tears in your eyes pricked and you could hardly see straight.

His grip on you loosened and he stepped back and glared at you. His lips grazed over your ear as he leaned forward. “Everything is temporary, this was merely one of those things.” He moved away and turned his back on you. Grabbing his mask and leaving off the chopper that picked him up. Leaving you with those words echoing in your mind.

He was gone..

But for how long..?

[skyward-floored]

Febuwhump Collab Day 4 (& 22) — Obedience, “you weren’t meant to be there”

This one I wrote with two prompts in mind, and as I was going along I realized it also fits with the day 17 one as well (hostage situation) so three at once! I feel bad for Time, I’m always giving him a hard time in this au...

Warning for some injuries, some violence, and a gun that gets waved around in a threatening manner

Today’s lovely art

Ao3 link

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Time drove down the street with the windows down in his car, enjoying the cool air that blew inside and ruffled his hair. It was a lovely afternoon, and he was glad to not be wasting it in an office.

Some kind of maintenance for the building he worked in had forced Time out of his office, and with nothing better to do, he’d been allowed to take the rest of the day off. He was looking forward to being home alone with Malon for a bit before his sons returned from school, and was already relishing the quiet they’d get to enjoy.

...Assuming, of course, that there wasn’t anything else that required his attention in the meantime.

Time sighed. Ever since supers had been (somewhat reluctantly) legalized again, it seemed like the crime rate had doubled to try and make up for it. Every other day he was stopping a bank robbery, or mugging, or any number of random misdeeds. He was endlessly relieved they were all no longer classified as illegal, and they’d fought hard for it, but... it was starting to get exhausting.

As if on cue, the music from the radio was cut off, and a news anchor began spouting off a report of an in-progress museum robbery.

Disappointment washed over him, and Time sighed and changed lanes, turning away from home and towards the direction of the museum. Malon would have been listening to the radio as well, and she would know he would go to help.

So much for our quiet afternoon.

Putting aside his disappointment, Time turned up the radio to hear the details better, mentally forming a plan for when he got the Hyrule Museum of History. The robbers had gone to the wing where the gems and older artifacts were housed, and had apparently blockaded themselves inside. He couldn’t believe they were brash enough to attempt a theft in broad daylight, at the largest museum in town at that...

But then again, perhaps they want some publicity, Time thought with a snort. There were always criminals around trying to make themselves out as bigger then they were.

The woman on the radio continued with the details, and Time suddenly jerked his head down to stare at it as she repeated the name of the building.

A robbery at the Hyrule Museum of History.

The same museum where several of his children had a field trip scheduled for today.

Time breathed in sharply and stepped on the gas, navigating towards the museum with an increased urgency. Not all of the grades were scheduled to be there at the same time, but there was at least one group that was supposed to still be at the museum now, and three of his sons had been there today.

No, calm down, he berated himself, getting honked at as he narrowly made it through a light, you know they can all handle a crisis, they’ve proved that. And they might not even be there anymore.

It was completely possible that all of their classes had finished and had already gone back to the school, or that the school groups were on the opposite side of the building from where the robbers were. Or maybe his sons had been evacuated with everyone else and would be waiting outside when Time got there, wanting to help out.

Maybe.

Time reached the museum in record time, though the trip seemed to take forever. He ducked into an alley and changed into his gear at lightning speed, then ran for the building, sirens in his ears.

There was a whole crowd of people outside, confused kids and frightened adults, police and security guards trying to maintain order through the clamor. Time left the police to their business of corralling civilians— though he made sure to scan the crowd for three familiar heads, heart sinking when he didn’t find a single one— and went through a side door, out of way of the crowd.

The officer guarding the inside jumped at the sight of him, but quickly realized who he was, directing him to where the robbers had gone with a relieved look.

“We got a report that there’s some kids missing from a school group, Mr. Deity,” he warned before Time went on his way. “It’s possible they’re in the wing the robbers sealed off, but we haven’t been able to get inside to check yet.“

Time’s stomach clenched, but he nodded, and headed for the section that housed ancient jewelry.

The halls were eerily quiet apart from Time’s rapid bootsteps, normally crowded halls foreboding and empty. He didn’t go to the main doorway of the wing, knowing that’s what the robbers would expect, and also where the police would be focusing their efforts, and instead went for one of the smaller doors.

Sure enough there were no police there, only an entrance blocked off by a huge fallen statue of some kind. Time had no trouble moving it aside enough that he could get through, and began running again, his heart in his throat.

Please, please let them be outside, please—

It was even quieter in this section, and Time didn’t pass a soul as he ran past paintings and bones, ancient armor and swords displayed proudly on the walls. Yet the thieves must have hidden a lookout somewhere, for when Time turned the corner into the room housing the most rare pieces, they were waiting for him.

There were at least six of them visible, wearing dark clothing and masks that covered most of their faces. All were armed with guns, most pointed in Time’s direction, but one was pointing towards the group of kids huddled in the center of the room.

Legend right in the line of fire.

Panic and anger roared to life in Time’s chest, but he shoved them away, forcing himself to remain collected in front of the group of criminals. Showing weakness would do nothing but give them an advantage, and despite the fact that he wanted to do nothing but charge forward and get Legend out of there, he remained where he was.

Legend locked eyes with Time, and the relief in his gaze made Time’s hands threaten to shake.

“Hm, Fierce Deity,” the man pointing the gun at the kids said, levelly meeting his gaze. His mask seemed more sinister than the rest. “The report indicated that you were not the most likely hero to show up here today.”

“Let them go,” Time demanded, the other kids watching him in frightened hope. He recognized them as ones from Legend’s class, thankfully no more of his sons among them. “These kids were just here for a field trip, don’t mix them up in this.”

The man crept closer to Legend. “They will be fine if you allow us to leave with what we came for.”

“They’re just kids,” Time said, voice darkened with anger. The man looked at him in an almost bored way, then back down at Legend. “What is it you even came here to steal?”

��That’s our business,” the leader said with a smile in his voice. “Now drop your weapon, and they will be fine.”

Time breathed out, scanning the room again before returning his gaze to Legend. His son was too far for him to reach before anything happened, the other kids as well, and even if there was a remote chance he could get Legend out of the way, it was unlikely he could protect all of the hostages.

You should have been more stealthy coming in—

“D— Fierce Deity,” Legend said in a soft, urgent voice, and Time looked at his son with increasing desperation. “Don’t listen to him, just get everyone else out of here, I’ll be—”

The gun was pressed to Legend’s head, the click of it being cocked near deafening to Time’s ears.

“Put your weapon down, or he gets a bullet through the head,” the man said softly. One of the other kids whimpered. “Swiftly followed by the rest of them.”

Time looked between the man and Legend, seconds ticking by loudly in his head. It was a nightmare knowing he had the power to stop every thief in the room, but being unable to do a thing. He had to stop them, but he couldn’t do anything, not without risking Legend, or any of the other kids, not unless he—

Legend’s lip trembled, almost imperceptibly, and Time exhaled as he bowed his head.

Then he dropped his weapon.

Legend gave him an agonized look as Time raised his hands in surrender, and though Time couldn’t see the man who was still holding the gun to his head’s face, he was sure he was smirking at them both.

Rage abruptly slammed into Time, more powerful then any of the emotions he’d been dealing with so far, and he gave the robber a look of pure hatred. How dare he mix these kids up in a stupid scheme that was doubtless just to make some money?

No lives were worth a couple of pretty rocks, no matter how rare.

“Get on your knees,” the man demanded next, a hint of glee in his voice, and Time grit his teeth and did as he said.

The other robbers jeered as he kneeled down, and closed their circle around him, one kicking at his legs to make him go down faster. A fist suddenly connected with his face, and Time flinched backwards, laughter ringing in his ears. Another blow hit him on the knee, pain bursting up his leg, and he forced himself not to react.

“You’re not going to fight back?” one of them mocked, making him gasp as he jabbed him in the stomach. “It’d be so easy, just one little punch!”

“Let them go and I’ll give you a fight,” Time growled, but the man with the gun shook his head.

“No, I’m enjoying myself too much. Leaving can wait, the Fierce Deity at our mercy is too good of an opportunity to pass up on,” he chuckled. “Rough him up boys, this could be our break into the big time if word gets out.”

Time barely had time to brace himself before the blows began to rain down, all of the robbers eager to swing a punch or two his way.

Now part of Time’s powers was increased durability, his body able to handle much more strain and abuse than any normal person. But he wasn’t invincible in any sense of the word, and the robbers all had extremely hard boots and gloves, and a few had weapons that slammed into and jabbed at sensitive points all over him.

And he didn’t dare fight back.

By the time they were finished knocking him around, Time had a split lip and bruised ribs, and he wasn’t confident his knee would hold his weight. But despite the pounding in his head and the sharp ache radiating up from his middle, Legend was still unharmed, and so were the other kids.

That was all that mattered.

Time breathed in and met Legend’s eyes for a second, his son’s blue gaze wide and equally angry and fearful as they looked at each other.

“You’ve had your fun,” Time said in a voice more hoarse then before. “Now do what you said, and let them go.”

The leader idly twirled his gun, the barrel no longer pressed to Legend’s head, but still much too close to it. “I don’t think so. I don’t want any funny business from you. They’ll come with us until we’re well on our way, and then they’ll be freed.”

The fire in Time’s stomach roared. “You said you’d let them go if I dropped my weapon.”

“Your own fault for trusting the word of a thief,” the leader shrugged, and Time nearly leapt at him then and there. “We’ll be on our way now. And if you decide to follow us before we’re gone, this little group here might just—”

Someone dropped from the ceiling and landed on top of the man.

He let out a shocked cry as he was thrown to the ground, and Time realized Wild had been the one to drop from above, fully in his costume, and Hyrule and Malon soon dropped down along with him.

Relief swept over Time at the sight of his wife and other two missing sons, both safe and sound. Despite the pain when he moved, he swung out at the nearest robber, who took his punch full on the chin and fell to the ground, immediately unconscious.

A gun went off somewhere, but the familiar sound of the bullet being stopped by Hyrule’s shield rang in Time’s ears. A shriek accompanied it, and Time saw his wife hustling the kids back and away from the fight.

“We got what we came for, let’s go!” the leader of the thieves shouted, having somehow wrestled himself away from Wild, and they all sprinted out into a hallway.

Wild’s face screwed up in anger and he bolted after them, Hyrule following close behind. Malon didn’t immediately follow though, pausing at Time’s side and putting a concerned hand on his face.

“Are you okay?” she breathed worriedly, running her thumb by his split lip. “I heard on the radio, I came as soon as I realized, but I had to find the boys first—”

“You need to get those kids out of here,” Time interrupted softly, clasping her hand for just a moment. Malon scanned over him, then nodded, her eyes worried behind her mask.

“You’re right. We can regroup in a bit,” she murmured, and Time pressed the briefest of kisses to her hand.

Malon quickly stood and went back to the group of kids, giving Legend only a short squeeze on the shoulder since she was in costume and wasn’t supposed to know him. She began ushering them out in a different direction than the bandits had gone, and Time watched them leave, relieved they were all fine.

Stumbling slowly to his feet as they trailed out of the room, Time winced as he put weight on his one leg. He’d certainly had worse, but unless Hyrule was willing to help him along, he’d probably need a doctor. Relaxing afternoon indeed.

Legend suddenly materialized at his side as he managed to stand, his face still pale from what had just happened, eyes wide as they looked him over.

Time didn’t hesitate to bundle him into a tight hug.

His ribs ached with the action but Time didn’t care, and he ignored the way his hand shook as he ran it through Legend’s hair. Legend hugged him back equally tight, and Time rested his head on top of his, relief threatening to send him to the ground again.

“Dad, I’m okay,” Legend said, his voice shaking a little.

“I know. I know you are,” Time breathed. He didn’t let go though, and neither did Legend, and Time ran another hand through his hair, still unable to get the image of Legend with a gun pressed to his temple out of his head.

If even one thing had gone differently...

Time silenced the thought before it could form, and gave Legend a squeeze.

“You shouldn’t have let them do that to you,” Legend said, his voice unusually quiet, and Time sighed, pulling back just a little.

“I couldn’t let them hurt you,” he replied, cupping a gentle hand around Legend’s chin. Legend swallowed and averted his gaze. “And I can handle a few punches. That’s nothing in comparison to what he would have done to you and the others.”

And I would endure it thousands of times if it ensured your safety.

“You still shouldn’t have,” Legend mumbled.

“But I did. And I’m okay,” Time reassured, ignoring every ache that protested the fact. “This wasn’t your fault, Legend.”

Legend only closed his eyes, and Time drew him near again, Legend’s hair brushing his chin.

“I’m okay,” Time reassured again, this time in a whisper. “We’re both okay.”

Legend gripped a little tighter at Time’s suit, Time’s hand running over his hair, and they stood there in silence for what felt like a long time before pulling back, and joining the fight with the others.