#young justice took over my life a year or two back and it never let go

[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?

[disillusioneddanny]

It’s me, hi I’m the problem is me (dead tired)

The world was ending.

That was the thing Tim had come to accept. Somehow, all of the big bads had made friends and decided to work together to take over the universe and split it amongst themselves. Darkseid, Trigun, Barbatos, they had all gotten together to conquer the universe. Raven was completely drained, The supers three were in the infirmary, and the Lanterns Corp were barely holding them back, losing every second. Hell, even the Justice League Dark were down for the count.

“What are we doing to do?” Nightwing murmured, watching as the Lanterns slowly lost momentum.

“I-I don’t know,” Bruce whispered. Tim’s adoptive father had ripped of his cowl, his hair stood mussed from continuously running his fingers through his hair in stress. Batman, Wonder Woman, and Aquaman stood over all of the contingencies Bruce had ever collected on the three big bads.

Robin stared at the screen that showed the devastation, a frown prominent on his face. “So this is it? We just give up?”

“No,” Red Hood said walking into the room with Arsenal and Starfire in tow. Behind the three stood a young man. He had Lazarus green eyes, snow white hair, slightly blue skin, and pointed ears. His body adorned in black armor, a blue crown floated above his head and a large cape hung from his body with galaxies swirling around. He looked to be Tim’s age, maybe just a little older than him, somewhere between his and Jason’s age.

“Who’s this?”

The being stepped forward, jewelry that hung from his ears tinkled slightly when he did and jeez, he was beautiful.

“My name is Phantom,” the being said with a serene smile. He was otherworldly, unlike anything Tim had ever seen in his life. “I am High King of the Infinite Realms. Jason asked me to come and assist with an issue you are dealing with,” he said, his eyes flicked to the large monitor curiously, tilting his head to the side, the silver that hng from his ears clangled once more. “Ah, those three, how fun.”

“How do you uh, how do you know Jason?” Tim asked, stepping towards the king.

At this, Phantom had an amused smile on his face as he looked back at Jason. “You never told them?”

Jason let out a groan of annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did. “When I died, Phantom found me in the ghost zone, I never actually moved one when I died. For those six months I just hung out in the ghost zone and became friends with Phantom. Before I came back, he declared me as one of his Fright Knights. And last years he ran into me during one of my missions and brought back my memories from when I died and fixed the pit rage.”

Phantom nodded, a wide grin on his face. “Jason made a lousy ghost. Now, how about I go fix this issue for you all real quick?” He said before he disappeared. Tim went to ask Jason about Phantom only for his father to beat him to the punch.

“Is this why we haven’t been able to get in contact with you?” Bruce asked, furrowing his brow. Jason shrugged.

“Couldn’t find the sword he left me that lets me summon him. Turns out I left it on Kori’s ship so she had to travel to come get me. From there it took a bit for me to remember how to summon him, I’ve never actually done it before so it took a few tries to get it right. And of course Phantom thought it was a social call and he loves to talk so it took a little bit to explain. And on top of that, time works different in the Realms. And Klarion was there so it just took a little longet than I wanted it to but he’s here and he’ll take care of the issue super quick.”

“Klarion?”

“Yeah he’s dating Phantom’s clone, he hates their relationship like a lot but it’s like two little chaos gremlins,” Jason said with a chuckle.

“How old is Phantom?” Tim blurted out.

Jason gave the nineteen year old a confused look but chuckled nonetheless. “He’s twenty.”

“Twenty and he is already a king?” Aquaman said, looking more and more interested in Phantom.

“Been king since he was fourteen,” Jason said, sucking at his teeth before he looked at the monitor and started snickering. Tim followed his gaze and smiled when he saw Phantom grow a third arm and grabbed all three beings by their ears, shrinking them down to his size before he dragged them away from the Lanterns before they disappeared.

Soon after the four reappeared in front of Bruce, Diana and Arthur who all looked on curiously.

“Kneel,” Phantom ordered. The three beings fell harshly to their knees. “I am beyond disappointed in the three of you. Are your realms not enough? What makes you think that you have the right to take over dimensions that do not belong to you?”

“But-” Trigon started.

“No buts from you, Trigon. The only reason you’re even still the ruler of your world is because none of your children want the position,” Phantom said. “Due to your crimes against this realm I hearby sentence you all to a millenia in the Fright Zone. Jason,” he instructed.

Jason grinned and pulled his sword from its sheath and stepped forward. With a quick swipe, all three disappeared from view.

Phantom stepped towards the three heroes and dipped his head in a polite bow. “They should not cause anymore issues. I apologize that I could not get here sooner. While I may be ll power, I am not all seeing and Kronos does not always deem it fit to tell me when my underlings are causing issues,” he said with a polite smile. “Does anyone have any paper or something to write on?”

“I uh, I have a tablet, I can just pull up something,” Tim stammered, stepping forward. Phantom smiled in thanks, taking the tablet from Tim. He drew out a complicated sigil and set it on the large table.

“This is my official line. Next time you are in a situation such as this, please do not hesitate to summon me,” he said before he looked at Tim and looked him up and down, a single fang peeked from under his lip. “As for you, Handsome, feel free to get my personal sigil from your brother and call me anytime.”

Before Tim could say another word, the High King disappeared and Tim immediately turned towards his brother with wide eyes. “ Jason ,” he hissed.

“He’s my fucking friend! I don’t want you dating him,” Jason shouted, running out of the room with Tim following close behind.

[gatorbites-imagines]

um could I request Conner Kent with a male reader who is just like him. Reader is a clone of another hero made by Cadmus, but the reader is a year or two older. When Conner and their first meet is during his initial escape and him coming apart from the team, and them bonding over them being clones. What would their relationship be like.

Conner Kent x Plastic Man Clone Male Reader

Headcanons

Reader is a clone of Plastic Man, cuz I love him.

Heyo my Hatchlings, how has everyone been doing? I finally finished up my assignment and I’m finally back. Did you guys miss me?

As a clone of Plastic Man, you put a good amount of people on edge when you appeared. Seeing as Plastic Man is very much immortal and unbeatable in the long game, they feared if you were good or evil, as there wouldn’t really be any way to defeat you if you turned out to be bad.

Luckily for them, you turned out to be as good of a guy as a clone of Plastic Man could be. You weren’t completely black and white, and sure you stole sometimes, and had a habit out of causing problems for corrupt people in power, but who were they to blame you.

You lived with Patrick Obrian, since he’s the closest thing you have to a family, and he never even had the thought of rejecting you because of your clone status. If anybody knows what its like to be judged and struggling to exist, its him.

Patrick plays an active supportive role in your life, and he teaches you how to use your powers. You end up being very skilled at the shapeshifting part of your shared powers. Sure, you still stretched, grew or shrank in size, anything Plastic Man could do, but you enjoyed shapeshifting the most. You even got a hang on switching colors, something Patrick struggled with.

When Young Justice was cooked up, you were one of the first they placed on the team. Mainly because of how powerful you were, and since part of them wanted to keep an eye on you, just in case.

You never took anything too seriously, it just came with the territory of being a clone of Plastic Man. Live life and all that. You did get into some arguments with different members of the team when it comes to morals, but that’s to be expected of a team.

When the team finds and rescues Conner, you immediately feel a level of kinship with him. Your clone status isn’t known outside of the league, so the knowledge Conner was born with doesn’t let him know you are a clone too.

As everyone tries to figure out what to do with Conner, you just settle down beside him, your stretched limbs dragging closer to you until they’re the normal length, where you offer him a snack or something to drink.

“Youd think they’d be better at dealing with clones, huh?” you joke, chewing on your own snack as he just looks at you, still confused and on edge about everything.

At his questioning glance, you lift your goggles and wink at him, pointing a thumb at yourself as you almost proudly declare yourself a clone of the best member of the justice league, if you were to be asked anyways.

As the league tries to figure it all out, you sit with Conner and just talk his ear off, never letting him wallow to far and making it harder for him to overhear the negative things said about him. Only Patrick knew, but the League fearing that you’d turn evil still weighed on you, and you didn’t want Conner to deal with the same thing.

Its only after you’ve made him smile and laugh that you accept that you’ve done your duty. When its time to leave you give him a way to contact you, and give him another cheesy wink before pulling your goggles back on, telling him that you clones should stick together.

Over time you become one of the people Conner is closest too, especially when he isn’t as welcomes by the people around him as he had hoped. This angers you and by extension Patrick, but your father figure just rolls his eyes and says he isn’t surprised.

In the beginning Conner spends a lot of time with you and Patrick, but mainly you, since you are closer in age. To be someone to look up too, you even stop with your petty crime for a while, just so your bad reputation won’t rub off on Conner.

Seeing him mingle better with the team, you take a happy step back and let him build the relationships he craves. Because of your different opinions and looser morals, you never became much more than acquaintances with the team, but seeing your fellow clone happy is enough for you.

But even as Conner gets closer to the team, he still holds onto you, since you were the first person to show him casual kindness without any suspicion or wanting something in return. You also have a lot more life skill than he does, so going to you for advice is normal for him.

When the time comes, you were most likely the one to leave the young justice team first out of everyone. You just don’t fit into their dynamic, and you run best on your own or with your father figure. Its hard to be an immortal who would never get to experience true normal life on a team of people who could.

You don’t leave the league, but you become more of a contractor, someone they call in when they need the help. You keep beating up bad guys, but you also fall back on the familiar feeling of crime. You only steal from those that deserve it though, and use your shapeshifting to easily get away with it.

It becomes a bit of a running gag, as the league always sends the young justice team after you since you aren’t an actual lethal threat. It kinda becomes training for them, and since Meghan can’t ever find you through mind powers, they have to work hard to find you.

When Conner leaves the team you to go out for drinks. Who cares about your ages. Seeing your father figure, you could be thousands of years old and never age physically, so it didn’t matter to you.

If your relationship was romantic, this would most likely be where it developed further, since Conner would be less tied to the team, and he could spend more time with you.

If your relationship isn’t romantic, it would still develop from here, just become more brotherly. You always joke you’re the batman to his superman, always shapeshifting into batman when you do, much to Conners fake annoyance.

Honestly even if it became romantic, youd still transform into batman and make kissy faces at him, since superbat is probably a running gag in the league.

You guys go on dates, even if its platonic, just to spend time together, maybe travel the world a bit, or even travel space, since you could easily survive away from earth. Theres probably also some very deep conversations about existence and your worth, since being a clone and always being treated like one weigh heavy on anyone.

When it truly hits Conner how much you struggle with your own role as a clone, he’s a bit surprised. Hed never imagined you were just completely fine, but you had always seemed to let the comments and suspicion roll off your back.

All in all, you two have each other’s back, always. The bond you have is deep in the way only two people created the same place for the same purpose can have. So, no matter if its romantic or platonic, you two become a familiar sight on and off the battlefield.

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Muse

music major!bang chan x art major!reader

Trigger warnings: none

Content warnings: your teeth might fall out over how sweet it is??? that's literally it. it's all fluff lmao

Summary: after what you believe is a chance meeting, chan becomes your muse.

Word count: 3237

Author's note: omg hiiiii babes it's been a minuteeee. this is kinda short but it was the first thing i wrote after finally working through some stuff. shoutout to @hopelessromantic5933 for requesting this, sorry for making you wait almost two years 🥲 anyways, i hope you all enjoy it! don't forget to check out my other work ❤ and don't hesitate to send in asks! also redoing my tag list so comment or dm to be added! much loveeeeee

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

content after the cut

You let out a soft sigh as you grabbed your bag and stood from your desk. You were contemplating changing your major as you made your way out of the classroom, digging through your bag to find your phone. You loved learning new concepts and trying new things but the technique you were learning this week was one you’d never appreciated. You didn’t hate it per se, but you definitely avoided that style. It just didn’t speak to you.

You finally found your phone and began scrolling through your notifications as you made your way towards your favorite food truck. You made a confused face when you saw an Instagram notification from right after your class started. You clicked on it and were greeted with a page full of photos that screamed music major. “Who the fuck is this?” You didn’t bother to go through his pictures, choosing instead to scan his bio for any indication that you knew him. All you came up with was that you attended the same university and shared some mutual friends. He was cute from what you could see so you shrugged and approved the follow request, pocketing your phone as you reached your destination.

You placed your order and stepped to the side, turning to survey the quad. It was a beautiful day and everyone seemed to be taking advantage of it. Maybe inspiration would strike if you sat and people-watched for a bit.

You heard your name a few minutes later and gave a polite smile as you took your food, then scurried off towards your favorite tree. Campus staff had placed a massive wooden lawn chair and some fairy lights under that tree and it always felt so cozy. Plus, you had the best vantage point from there. You could almost see the entire quad from that one spot and you often found yourself sketching study groups there. Today would be slightly different since you were trying something new, but you found a sense of comfort as you settled into the chair and happily munched on your lunch.

As soon as you’d finished eating, you grabbed your sketch pad and pencil and allowed your gaze to sweep across the open field. It was teeming with life so all you had to do was choose someone and start sketching. You shook your head and chose a stationary subject first, needing to build up the courage to locate someone you’d consider asking to model for you.

Your eyes settled on a petite young woman who was seated a few yards away, sipping on coffee with her nose in a book. She almost seemed out of place here given how regal she appeared. Her posture was perfect, shoulders squared and back straight, and her hair fell over her shoulders in romantic waves. She was a picturesque beauty.

You began drawing, allowing your pencil to glide along the paper and create a version of the woman that you felt did her justice. It was far from perfect but you were certain no artist could truly capture her beauty so you gave yourself some grace. You were adding more detail when she began to pack up her things. You let out a soft sigh, knowing you’d likely never see the goddess again and this was as far as you’d get with this sketch. You flipped the page and decided to take a different approach as you spotted two men throwing a frisbee. Both were attractive, though one had a more athletic build.

You focused on the athletic one and took mental notes on the way his body moved as you began to draw him. First, you sketched out the general shape of his body as he twisted in preparation to throw the disk, then you began to add more details. You focused on the way his clothing fell and the way the midday sunlight bounced off his caramel brown hair, getting a strange sense of familiarity as you scrawled notes in the margins on the colors you’d incorporate when you got the chance.

You watched him closely as you tried to find another position to sketch him in, perking up instantly when you caught him with his arm outstretched, the frisbee leaving his hand. He was smiling brightly, displaying the most adorable dimples, and your heart sped up for a moment. You quickly began to sketch, memorizing as much detail as possible before he moved too much.

You gulped but drew even more frantically when he lifted his shirt to wipe the beads of sweat rolling down his face, revealing a six pack and prominent v-line. His proportions were perfect and if you weren’t so flustered by how attractive he was, you’d ask him to model for you. He was exactly what you needed for this project.

That strange familiarity came creeping back in as you drew but it was only when you made brief eye contact that you recognized him. He was the owner of the mystery account who’d requested to follow you less than an hour ago. You frantically looked away and continued drawing, praying he wouldn’t have anything to say when he undoubtedly recognized you from your photos.

You thought you were in the clear when he didn’t approach you after about five minutes but just when the thought crossed your mind, your luck ran out and the frisbee came flying at your head. You ducked your head quickly and listened as the disk crashed into the tree behind you.

“Felix, your arm fuckin’ sucks, bro!” Your breath caught in your throat when your unwitting model’s Australian accent reached your ears as he jogged towards you.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Called the man who’d lobbed the plastic at your head - Felix, as you’d gleaned from hearing the athletic man mocking him. He looked panicked, hands covering his mouth as he watched from where he was frozen in place. He was just as pretty and you certainly wouldn’t mind him modeling for you sometime. He had a wholesome, warm appearance.

“Sorry about him, he’s usually not such a klutz.” Your mystery man flashed a smile as he rounded your chair, taking a glance at your work as he reached down behind you.

“Ah- no, it’s not a problem. I wasn’t paying much attention.” You offered up a shy smile before looking back down to your paper. You didn’t notice him studying your pad as he retrieved the disk so you were startled when he attempted conversation as he righted himself.

“You sure about that?” He chuckled softly as he leaned over your shoulder to get a closer look and you froze. “Looks like you were paying plenty of attention.” He teased as he studied your art. Who was he and why was he so comfortable? Your heart was thumping and you wanted to vanish. “You an art major?” He asked as he stood straight once more and came around the chair to properly look at you. He was still closer to you than a stranger should be but at least you could breathe again.

Your cheeks were flaming red at being caught and you simply nodded as you began to gather your things in a rush. “I am. Sorry, this is probably really weird for you. I should-”

“What? No! This is really flattering. I don’t know a whole lot about art but you did an amazing job. Can I take a look at some of your other stuff sometime?” You froze once more but his blinding smile won against your nerves and you found yourself nodding. “Great! Can I get your number to get in touch? Or is Instagram better?”

“Ah, so you recognized me…” You let out a single huff of air that somewhat resembled a laugh as you closed your book.

“Of course I did. It’s not often I come across such a beautiful woman.” His dimples appeared once more as your cheeks went pink and your jaw dropped slightly, a smile slowly taking over your face. “Here.” He handed you his phone and you took it slowly, trying to collect yourself and remember how to use your thumbs to type your number out. When you passed it back, his fingers ghosted over yours and you retreated quickly as his smile faded into something far more flirtatious. “Thanks, I’ll text you. I’m Chan, by the way.”

“Y/n…” You murmured, enraptured by the man before you. You were dumbfounded at the way he spoke so comfortably and seemed to take an interest in you. This man was Adonis and was looking at you with an unbelievable level of interest.

“Pleased to meet you, y/n.” He began to back away as he pocketed his phone, his carefully crafted confident facade beginning to crumble, revealing a giddy young man who was thrilled to have gotten a girl’s number so easily. “I’ll let you get back to it. But do try and get my left side. That’s my good side.” He winked and you involuntarily rolled your eyes as a smile finally appeared on your lips as he made his way back to his friend with a triumphant grin.

————————————————

Your phone buzzed just after 6pm that night and you froze at the unfamiliar number.

Hi pretty 👋🏻 it’s Chan. How are you?

You quickly saved his number before responding.

hiii i’m good how are you

Much better now that I’m talking to you 😉

You were at a loss for words but he quickly sent another message.

I’d be even better if I could take you to get coffee in the near future. Are you free next weekend? Say Saturday at 11am?

You felt a jolt of anxiety shock your body but shook it off. You’d never grow as a person if you continued to shrink away from people who wanted to get to know you. Plus, he was cute. Which is why we’re anxious, dumbass. This isn’t about human connection, this is about a beautiful man flirting with you. You shook your head and typed out a response.

i think i can manage that 😆

Perfect! I’m thrilled to see you and your amazing work. 😌

————————————————

The coffee date had gone smoothly, with Chan gushing about your work and lighting up like a neon sign when you asked him to model for you. He’d been so flattered and excited that you’d asked and had immediately set up a time for you to draw him. After you’d gotten home, you texted him with more details, including where to meet and what he should wear.

Now, he was standing in your living room and you were circling him with one arm crossed over your middle while you drummed your fingers of the opposite hand against your chin. He was fighting the urge to shift around under your scrutiny and let out a tiny sigh of relief when you stopped in front of him with a smile. “I think I have an idea.”

“Have your way with me.” He grinned, ears going red when you stared at him somewhat surprised by his words. “Uh- I just- h-how do you want me to pose? That’s what I meant…” 

You laughed at his flush and shook your head. “Don’t make it weird.” You warned playfully as you pushed him towards your bedroom. You had a daybed with warm-toned sheets and pillows and knew instantly that it was the perfect backdrop. “Come on, I know what I’m gonna do with you.” He seemed to grow more flustered as he processed where you were guiding him and you almost laughed again.

Over the last few weeks, you’d grown quite comfortable with him but he seemed a little less outspoken. He was still very flirtatious but in a more genuine, careful way. He didn’t come on as strong as he did at first. While getting to know each other, you’d come to realize he was a kind man with a lot of love to give the world and a strong sense of self, not just your typical college kid. Most of your late night conversations were deep, thought-provoking, emotional discussions about life where you could see his soul was just as beautiful as his exterior. So while he certainly had his moments of being just some guy, he saved his perverted humor for his friends and kept most things with you pretty PG and entirely sincere.

When you reached your room, you nudged him towards the bed and turned to set up your easel. “Take off your shirt and socks and get on the bed.” He hesitated at first and was on the verge of sputtering some shy response when you turned back with your bottom lip poking out. “Oh come onnnn.” You whined cutely, further exaggerating your pout. “It’s for class.” Your pout was quickly replaced with a little grin as you grabbed your canvas and placed it on the easel. “Plus, it’s not like I haven’t already seen your body before.”

“Right.” He cleared his throat and began to unbutton his shirt. You watched him in your peripheral vision as you continued to set everything up and had an idea.

“Actually, hold on.” You stopped him as he began to slide the linen off his muscular shoulders and he slowly put it back in place. “Just leave it open like that, that’s perfect.” You smiled as your vision fully came to you. “Socks off and get in the middle of the bed.”

He followed your instructions while watching you scurry off to your en suite bathroom to fill a cup with water. When you returned, he was sitting almost awkwardly in the center of your bed and you chuckled softly. You approached him wordlessly and knelt beside him to arrange your pillows so they were nestled in the right corner. You gestured for him to recline and stood back once he was slumped. He wasn’t lying down, he was simply sprawled across your mattress at an angle.

“Okay, bring your right knee up and sort of prop on your left elbow.” You watched as he complied and scrutinized his positioning for a moment before crawling back onto the bed. “I’m gonna make some adjustments.”

You noticed his flush creeping down his neck as you adjusted his open shirt how you wanted it to lay. “Put your hand like this.” You instructed as you demonstrated how you wanted his hand to rest across his bare torso and he complied. “And relax your left leg a bit. I want you to almost lay like Adam in Creation of Adam.”

“I think I get where you’re going with this.” He nodded, a tiny grin settling on his lips. You lifted a brow as you waited for his guess and instantly rolled your eyes when he spoke again. “You’re trying to tell me I’m a classic beauty.”

“Yes, but no.” You laughed softly as you shook your head. “Look over there.” You pointed to where you’d be sitting and made some final adjustments to his shirt as he followed your instructions. You noticed him forcing his breathing to remain steady and his flush reaching his chest as your fingers accidentally brushed against the waistband of his cream colored linen pants.

You didn’t allow yourself to worry over how you’d just touched him or to get flustered at the effect your proximity was having on him and pushed ahead, reaching to fix his hair. You adjusted a single curl and brushed a few strands away from his eyes before your gazes met and you lost the battle to remain calm. Your cheeks went a soft pink as he smiled up at you. “Hi.”

“Hi.” You whispered back, smiling back at him and allowing your fingertips to trail down the side of his face. Seeing him this close made you even more certain of your decision to cast him as your model. His skin was flawless and his bone structure was heavenly. He truly was a god among men. And his lips…

“You’re staring.” He whispered, his smile slipping away as he noticed the way your eyes locked on his full lips.

“I’m not…” You refuted his claim but still couldn’t look away.

“You are.” His face grew redder and you thought he might kiss you but he didn’t dare move after you’d finally gotten him perfectly positioned. It was almost maddening.

“I’m not.” You finally looked towards his eyes and found him staring at your lips as well. “You are.”

“Can’t help it. You have pretty lips.” He slowly met your gaze and something in you snapped. You’d been wanting him to kiss you for a couple weeks and he hadn’t so you took matters into your own hands.

When your lips met his, he hesitated. Not because he wasn’t interested, but because he was surprised that you’d initiated it. You’d given him the impression that you wanted him to take the lead and he wanted to be careful with you so he hadn’t dared to do more than hold your hand. But now your lips were on his and he was in the clouds.

He slowly brought his hand up to cup your face without disturbing the careful placement of his shirt and allowed his lips to move against yours. Your heart was racing at how slow and sweet the moment was. It felt like the stars had aligned and you found yourself smiling against his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for a little while now.” You whispered and began to pull back.

“Me too. I’ve been trying to take it slow with you though. Didn’t wanna move too fast and risk scaring you off.” He explained quietly, not really letting you move as his hand slipped to the back of your neck. “So come back here, we’ve got a couple weeks of lost time to make up for.” He teased as he chased your lips.

“You did the exact opposite. You were driving me mad wondering what exactly was happening between us.” You laughed softly before allowing him to kiss you again. His lips felt perfect against yours and you knew instantly that you’d quickly become addicted.

It couldn’t have been more than three minutes of sharing chaste kisses but it felt much longer and you frowned a bit when you finally came up for air. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to get to work now or you’ll be stuck waiting here until late into the night.”

“I could wait an eternity for you, babe.” He winked before immediately cringing. You couldn’t help but laugh loudly at the face he pulled and he took a moment to admire your joyful expression before shaking his head. “That was so cheesy, I’m sorry.” He chuckled and settled back into his previous position. “Work your magic.”

“For the record,” you started as you stood and studied him once more. “I love little pet names like that.” You hummed, making your way to your canvas. “So I’d really like it if you continued to use them.”

“Of course, baby girl. But don’t be surprised if I rarely use your real name then.” He grinned and relaxed his hand, allowing his fingers to splay out against his stomach.

“I’ll hold you to that. Now give me an emotionally tortured smolder.” You smiled to yourself at his soft laugh and began to sketch out the god of a man lounging on your bed.

[supercriminalbean]

Family Pride.

Jennifer Jareau X Transgender!Reader

Jennifer Jareau X child!Reader!

A/N: Hi. So I wrote this to fix my own heart a few weeks back and finally just finished editing it. I personally really like this one, not just because it fixed my issues for a little bit. My writing skills still need work but I really like this storyline. I don’t think there is enough fics out there with Will in them, so I hope I did this justice 😊 To anyone who is going through a hard time coming out to their family or their family is non supportive or worse than please know you are loved! There are people out there who will support you, it may take awhile to find them sometimes but they are there. And if not I am, even if I don’t know you, please know I will always be in your corner. Love you all, please look after yourself and if you need to never be afraid to reach out to the support system in place around you or the healthlines in your country, please. Love y’alls.

Summary: Transgender Reader (FTM) coming out to their parents JJ and Will.

Warnings: Fluff, some Angst, Homophobia, transphobia, swearing, crying, anxiety, self harm briefly mentioned (just scratching) If I have missed anything let me know, thank you. 

Words: 4.5k

Your Mum was meant to be home an hour ago, you had already gotten the boys ready for bed. Now your two little brothers are laying on the couch together, watching ‘Finding Nemo’.  The only movie that both the boys could agree on tonight. While those two are happily watching the movie, you clean up the dishes from the dinner.

Cleaning up the house so your Mum doesn’t have to deal with it when she gets home from work. Knowing she's had such a long week. Will had helped clean the kitchen before dinner, before he had to head off for the night shift. So there wasn’t too much for you to do, you’re thankful for that.  Once the kitchen is clean once more, you join your brothers in the living room for the movie. Laying on your beanbag in the corner, being able to play on your phone while you can still keep an eye on the boys and the movie. Sighing softly as you look down at your Mum's latest text. She had let you know that she was running late and had asked you to put the boys to bed and that she will be home before you guys wake up in the morning. 

~~~

It wasn’t unusual for you to look after your brothers on nights like this. But it doesn't mean that it doesn’t sucked sometimes. Your parents run a busy life and sometimes you don’t always have time to speed time with them. Being 17 you hold a lot of responsibility not just at home but at school as well. You're in your last year of high school and school isn't exactly your thing, so having to decide what to do for university is difficult. Especially when you're surrounded by intelligent and successful people, giving yourself high expectations. 

~~~

Your brothers are a lot younger than you, Henry is now 9 years old while Micheal is turning 4 in a couple weeks. You were 7 years old when your Mum introduced you to Will. They had been dating for almost a year when she had finally introduced him to you. Your father has never been in the picture, he took off after finding out your Mum was pregnant. But your Mum has always been strong, and she knew she could raise you alone if she had to. She was 21 when she gave birth to you and never has had any regrets being a young single mother, raising you all alone. She still got into the FBI and the team soon became your family. On some days she had to bring you to the office and on those days, the team was over the moon to get to know JJ and you better. 

~~~

When Will entered your life, you were worried at first. Not used to having someone step in as a father figure. But you never had to be, he never rushed into that position. He never acted like a father, he allowed you to take your time warming up to him. Never forced you to call him dad, never made you feel like he was trying to steal your Mum from you. When your Mum became pregnant with Henry, you grew quiet from them for a little bit. Your Mum tried to get you to know that this was a good thing, but it never sunk in. Not until Will talked to you, told you that no matter what happened that he would never leave you or your sibling. That he would stick around and that he would love you, even if things went south with your Mum. It was the first heart to heart you had with him. He held you as your little kid heart cried, telling him you were scared he would leave. He never did and you now know, he never will, no matter how bad a situation get. 

~~~

You remember how nervous you were when you told your parents that you’re pansexual and that you wanted them to meet your girlfriend. You had sat them both on the couch while the boys were upstairs having a nap. Your leg couldn't stop bouncing, which has always been your biggest sign of anxiousness. Your Mum had placed a hand on your leg and told you that it was okay no matter what you had to tell them. Will just smile softly at you and take your hand.

“Darling, what's going on, in that mind of yours?” That soft loving smile of his, made you break open and tell them. You knew deep down that they would be okay with it, but you were still a little nervous. You didn’t want them to disown you, like some of your friends have gone through.

Turns out you had nothing to worry about, they accepted you with open arms and told you they were so proud of you for coming out. Will told you that he will still be threatening anyone you bring home that no one is allowed to hurt his sweet child. You and your Mum laughed at him, knowing he of course, would do that. They met your girlfriend that night and welcomed her with open arms.

~~~

Now here you are, not even three years later. Waiting for your Mum to get back so you can come out once more. You know your parents would never judge you for your sexuality, but being transgender. That's where you don’t know where Will stands on that issue. You don’t want to disappoint them, they already have two sons, do they really want another one? Your Mum has alway said how much she loved having an older daughter, having at least one girl out of the boys. Why would your parents want a family fill of boys, would it be too much. You were so nervous that they would be so disappointed in you. It's not like you can help who you are, you have known for a while who you truly are. You have only come out to a small handful of your friends. Even then, not all of them accepted you. Your girlfriend broke up with you. Calling you a freak and all sorts of names and refusing to ever speak to you again, after that day. Your best friend of 7 years, said they would support you then avoid you from that day onwards. But your other two friends who you hadn’t know for that long said fuck em, and they were your support system. They respect and support every decision you ever make. They are real friends, it doesn't matter how much time you have known each other for. 

~~~

Once the movie is ending, Micheal has already fallen asleep on the couch while Henry is half asleep, struggling to stay awake. Smiling softly as you get up, picking Micheal up gently. Carrying him to his bedroom, placing him in his bed, being careful not to wake him. You're happy the boys had listened to you earlier and had gotten ready for bed before the movie had started. Making sure that his teddy is beside him, for him to grab during the night. You smile softly, leaving your brother to get his rest. Walking back down to get your other brother to his bed. Luckily you don’t have to carry this one as you see him sitting up on the couch rubbing his eyes sleepy. 

“Hey kiddo, come on let's get you to bed” Smiling softly at your little brother. Who groans softly as he gets up grabbing his blanket as he walks over to you.

“Where's Mummy?” He mumbles tiredly. Leaning into you as you lead him to his bedroom.

“She's stuck at work buddy, but she will be back before we wake up” Smiling sadly as you help him into bed. Turning on his little rocket ship nightlight, that he just can not sleep without.

“M’kay, goodnight sis, I love you” Henry whispers as he closes his eyes. Cuddling into his blanket as he falls asleep.

“I love you to Bro” Kissing his forehead softly as you walk out. A gross feeling filling your stomach being the reaction of the word sis. 

~~~

You go back and lay on the couch, sighing tiredly as you pick up the tv remote. Putting netflix on, flicking through to find a movie to watch. Settling on a horror movie for the night, one of your favourites. Playing on your phone as you let the movie become background noise, turning it down so it doesn’t wake your brothers. Sending your Mum a quick text.

Hey Mum, both the boys are asleep and your dinners in the fridge if you are hungry when you get home. Love you xx

It takes a few minutes but she does text back, rather quickly for how busy you imagine she is.

Thank you Angel, tonight is slowing down so I should be home in a couple hours. Don’t stay up to late tonight my sweet girl Love you xx

Smiling softly knowing that if the night is slowly down that means she won’t be in any danger tonight. Making your heart slow down knowing she is safe for now. Your eyes can’t help but focus on the word girl. The taunt, the sick feeling in your gut. The fear and knowledge that maybe that's all you will ever be. No stop thinking that, you tell yourself. That is not true, you will never think that about others so that's not true about yourself. Taking a deep breath as you repeat these words. You know it's okay to be transgender, that it's okay to be anything. To be a part of the LGBTQIA Plus community but sometimes, negative thoughts can still invade you. 

~~~

You have decided that you are going to stay awake tonight, stay up until your mum finally gets home. A couple hours isn't much, you can enjoy your favourite horror movie in the meantime. Grabbing your blanket that's on the edge of the couch as you place your phone down. Relaxing into the couch as you do your best to distract your brain from coming out. Slowly you start to fall asleep as the movie starts to end, feeling exhausted from the week. 

~~~

You slowly wake up hearing the front door close, hearing someone walking in quietly. Making their way into the living room where you are. You sleepily pull yourself up into a sitting position, your eyes blinking a lot trying to get used to the light in the room. The light coming from the windows, the sun starting to come up for the start of the day.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing up?’ Your Mum asks softly, from behind you. Coming to move over to you.

“Was waiting for you” Mumbling out sleepy, smiling softly at her.

“Oh I'm sorry, I got stuck at work my love” She sighs sadly, looking at you guilty. She knows you like to know that she's safe at night time, that you like to have some Mother and daughter time. 

“It's okay, how was work?” You smile tiredly at her, yawning softly.

“It was alright we got the unsub so now I have the weekend off to spend it with my babies” She smiles lovingly at you. “So why don’t you go to bed and get a couple more hours of sleep and then later on we can have some time together okay” JJ smiles at you holding out a hand for you.

“I uh” Gulping as you glance at her hand, you stayed up so you would have time alone to talk. You know it's now or never. “I wanted to talk to you about something” Your words come out quietly, weakly.

JJ eyebrows narrow at your body langues, the anxiety is written across your body making her frown.

“What is sweet girl, you can tell me anything” JJ sits beside you, worrying as she watches you. Your leg is bouncing with nerves, taking a deep breath as you feel your heartbeat starting to speed up, glancing quickly at your Mum. The worry evident on her face, her hand is quick to capture yours as it starts to scratch at your arm, one of your really bad habits you do. 

“Babygirl, come on, I'm right here, whatever it is, it will be okay” 

~~~

“Please don’t call me that” Your voice is shaking when you finally find your voice again. Trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself. That confuses JJ, you have always been her babygirl why of, all of a sudden do you not like this. JJ squeezes your hand softly, nodding.

“Okay I’m sorry, I won’t call you that again I know some people don’t like being referred to as a baby, sweetheart but—”

“It's not the baby part” You interrupted her. Taking another deep breath staring at the floor, trying to ground yourself. “It's the girl bit, it's..” Looking up at her, feeling vulnerable and scared. “Mum I’m not a girl, I’m transgender” Gulping thickly as you stare into her eyes, your heart pounding against your chest, feeling like it's about to explode at any second. JJ stays quiet for a few seconds, processing what she has just heard. Before she smiles widely with relief, gripping your hand tightly.

“Oh thank god, I thought you were going to tell me something bad or that you were pregnant or something, which is completely fine if you were I would support you if you were but thank god, your not because there is enough kids under this house right now” JJ words tumble out of her mouth quickly, smiling happily with relief. Her reaction makes your eyes widen in confusement, you were expecting a different reaction than that.

~~~

“W wait what?” Is all you get out. Staring at her in surprise, while your leg stops bouncing as your heart beat slows down to a normalish speed. Your Mum just smiles lovingly at you.

“I'm sorry, that wasn’t the best reaction huh” JJ laughs softly. Wrapping her arm around your shoulder pulling you into her, sensing you needed a hug. Knowing physical touch can help ground you when your anxiety is high. You lean your head into her shoulder, nodding.

“I..yeah not exactly.. But you're okay with it, right?”  Whispering quietly, still feeling on edge. 

“Of course I am sweetheart” JJ smiles, then it slowly drops. “Wait, is it okay if I call you that, and also what are your pronouns?”

“I'm okay with you calling me sweetheart, but only you” Smiling softly. Joy fills your heart as your Mum accepts you, snuggling closer into her for comfort which she happily accepts. “I would prefer more masculine or even gender neutral terms, and my pronouns are He/they” Smiling softly as you let the words float out of you easily. 

“Okay and would you prefer I refer to you as my child or son” JJ runs her hand through your hair. Smiling gently, enjoying the way you crawl up in her arms, knowing you feel safe that way.

“I'm okay with either one” 

“Okay and did you want to change your name, I know some trans people feel more comfortable doing so” JJ whisper softly. Feeling you relax and become more sleepy in her arms.

“I want to and I have a list of some ideas but I’m unsure of what to pick” You admit sleepy, closing your eyes. Allowing the exhaustion due to the anxiety you had early, take over your body. 

“Well if you like I’m happy to help you decide because I do not want you stuck with such a  basic name” JJ jokes softly. Kissing your head softly knowing you're close to drifting off to sleep.

“I would like yours and Dad help to decide. I still need to tell him, later today” Your shoulder tenses up a little. Your eyes open a little looking up at your Mum meeting her eyes, nervous again.

~~~

“I.. Is Will going to be okay with this?” Your voice shrinks again, looking afraid. Scared to push him away.

“Honey, Will loves you and he is going to accept you for who you are okay, he won’t have a problem with it” JJ reassures you gently, rubbing your shoulders softly. 

“Okay.. I was just so nervous that you guys…” You let your voice trail off, glancing down not wanting to finish that thought.

“That we what, love?” Your Mum ask worriedly, that she may have made you think that at anypoint that they wouldn’t accept you for anything.

“I.. I was worried you guys wouldn’t want me because I was a boy… that you guys thought you already had enough sons” You admit your fear, gulping as you glance up at your Mum. Watching as her face falls, the pain in her eyes. 

“Oh my love, that is never true okay” She softly moves your hair out of your face, cupping your face gently as your eyes fill with tears. 

“I I know but.. But my brain kept telling me different things. It's hard to not believe it sometimes Mum I’m sorry” You let a soft cry, a couple tears slide down.

“Oh honey.. No, don't apologise, it's okay, we can all get stuck inside our own minds some days but we just can’t allow it to consume us, okay my love?” JJ speaks softly. Her voice is full of care and love.

“I know.. I won’t let it” You smile weakly at her, relaxing back into her. 

“Good, and about you thinking that I wouldn’t want you, because you're a boy” She can't help but scoff a little. “I do not care what form you come in, I will always love you, because you are you and you are my little child, nothing that you identify with, will change your personality and that's the most important thing ever, am I clear” She speaks firmly, her hand moves off your chin coming to rest in your lap.

“Yes Mum, I understand” Smiling lightly nodding, your heart warming up as her words set in. “I love you so much Mum”

“I love you too, my child” She kisses your forehead softly. Wrapping both her arms around you, holding you closely. 

~~~

You two lay there in each other arms for a few minutes, giving you time to calm down and some overdue mother and child time. You're not sure how long you two are laying there for, but soon the front door opens, indicating that Will is now home. You go to sit up a little, your heart starts racing, getting nervous again. You don’t get to move far because your Mum's grip around you tightens, pulling you closer into her. Will walks in, placing his bags down on the table quietly, doing his best to not wake the house, believing everyone is asleep. That is before he walks into the living room and goes to walk past the couch, not noticing his two people laying there. 

“Well good morning handsome” JJ speaks softly, breaking the silence. Making Will jump backwards gasping loudly.

“Holy jesus, Jennifer!” Will yelps turning around to look at the couch. Where you and JJ are laughing silently, doing your best to not wake up the boys. 

“That is not funny, you two” He laughs softly as he walks over. Coming to sit opposite you two, sitting down on the coffee table lightly. 

“Oh no it was hilarious, I mean you should have seen your face dad” Laughing quietly as you look up at him. 

“Alright alright it's too early for you to be teasing me” Will laughs shaking his head. “What are you both doing awake, you should still be in bed, and you should be in bed asleep after staying at work so late” Will looks at you both pointedly.

“Oh we were just talking” JJ smiles, slowly pulling herself away from you, placing one final kiss on your forehead before she gets up. Standing up to give her husband a hug and a quick peek on the lips. 

“Ew gross, it's too early for that” You groan as you watch them, which makes them both laugh softly. 

~~~

“Okay, I am going to go make breakfast because the boys will be up soon, in the meantime you two, talk” JJ smiles softly, giving you a soft encouraging look before she walks out quickly. Will looks at JJ as she walks out then at you confused.

“Talk? Is something wrong?” Will ask concerned and confused as you refuse to meet his eyes.

“Maybe, I mean no but possibly but I just.. I guess it just depends” Gulping thickly as you feel your arms start to shake again. 

“Hey, whatever it is, I'm right here, I'm never going to leave, remember?” Will smiles softly. Trying to remind you of the convince you two had many years ago, where he promised you he would never leave you. 

“I know” Smiling weakly, feeling your mouth tremble a little, still unable to meet his eyes, staring at the floor. Soon you feel the couch beside you dip, his hand coming to rest on your knee. 

“Darling, talk to me?” Will takes a deep breath before he continues. “Look, if your pregnant, we can deal with that as a family” 

You finally look up at him, meeting his concern looks. Knowing his heart is in the right palace but you can’t help but laugh at him.

“Dad, I’m not pregnant” Laughing weakly as you calm down. Smiling as you start to relax, knowing that it's finally time.

“O oh” He laughs, the worry falling off his face. “That is good, because as much as we would support you, I am over hearing babies cry” 

“So am I” Nodding in agreement.

~~~

“Okay then darling, so what is it?” Will watches you, cornered again.

“I.. Dad Im transgender” Gulping thickly as you look at him. Your heart is pounding, fearing for a bad reaction. You should have known better though, because instead, you got the biggest smile from him instead.

“That's great darling, thank you for telling me” He smiles proudly, as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. You happily lean into him, feeling at ease at his touch.

“You're okay with it?” Asking quietly, just to reassure yourself, feeling loved with his response.

“Of course I am, you're still my kid no matter what” He chuckles softly, kissing your head. “So what are your pronouns and is there anything I should know? I'm not great at knowing all of these things but I will do my best but you will need to help me darling” He smiles happily at you as he speaks, enjoying the way you relax in his arms. Feeling comfortable enough to tell him about this important part of you. 

“That's alright I can help you the best I can” Humming softly, as you glance at the kitchen hearing your Mum making some noise. “Also my pronouns are He/They and I would prefer more masculine or even gender neutral terms, but I'm okay with you referring to me as darling, but only you though. I also want to be referred to as, your son or child is okay as well” Speaking with confidence, grinning happily as you finally get to say it out loud in the presence of your parents. 

“That is great, I might slip up a few times just correct me” Will smiles at you, his heart throbbing as he watches you proudly. 

~~~

“I also want to change my name but I was um, hoping to get you and Mum's opinions on it as well” You look up, as you hear your Mum walk in. 

“Well Darling, I think we can help you out with that”

“That we can, do you want to do it?” JJ smiles as she walks over to you two. 

“Please that would be great, hang on I have them written down somewhere” Grinning happily as you get up, running off to your room, returning quickly holding a piece of paper that's half crumpled up. The list of names on it isnt to long, and  few of the ones you love the most are highlighted. You settle back on the couch, in between your parents, who were talking under their breath so you wouldn’t notice. 

“Okay so this is my list what do you think” Grinning excitedly at them as you hold out the list.

“I think you need to learn how to keep things tidy, so they don’t get crumpled,” JJ shakes her head as she looks through the list.

“Yeah yeah Mum I know” Rolling your eyes as you watch your parents look through the list.

“Okay that one is my favourite” Will smiles pointing at the one scribbled on the side, that is highlighted.

“Hey that was my pick” JJ grumbles annoyedly, making you both laugh.

“That is also my absolute favourite one too” Grinning happily. 

“So that settles it then” Will nudges you lightly.

~~~

“It does indeed, my name is now, (Y/n) Roslyn Jareau LaMontagne” Smiling as you glance up at Will, who has the biggest grin on his face. 

“You want my last name as well?” 

“Well I mean you are my dad so it makes sense, plus my brothers have your name so why can’t I?” Shrugging your shoulder as you glance up at your Mum. “That's okay, right?” 

“Of course it is sweetheart, my sons all got to have the same last name” Her smile grows bigger, when she catches her husband's eyes, which now have tears in them. The last time she saw him like this it was just after the first time you called him dad. JJ’s surprised he didn’t burst into tears in that moment, or even in this moment either. She leans over to squeeze his hand softly.

“We can do that later this month, go to the court to get your name changed and everything, we can make a day of it” JJ smiles, pulling you closer into her. 

~~~

“I would like that” You yawn softly, the exhausted finally catching up to you. 

“Okay I think you need to go to bed after breakfast okay, then later this afternoon we can go shopping if you like, get you some new clothes and anything else you might need?” JJ offers, slowly getting up holding her hand out for you which you happily take.

“Can I get a haircut too?” Smiling, feeling hopeful. 

“Sure can” Will smile, leading you guys to the kitchen, only for you three to be intrepid by two little boys running in.

“Mummy!” Micheal yells happily running over to her jumping into her arms, Henry goes straight to Will for his morning hug. Making you laugh as you move the waffles your Mum made over to the table for everyone to enjoy. 

~~~

[n1ightw1ng]

“do any of the clothes you’re wearing belong to you?!” // if you’re wanting prompts i would love to see this with jaytimsteph? or timstephcass 💖

hey hey 😘 here's some fluffy timstephcass for ya ❤️

For the life of him, he could not find his favorite hoodie. Tim had searched every drawer, closet, nook and cranny in three safe houses–the Nest included–and the damn thing was nowhere to be found. He'd had it for years; he had picked it up at a music festival he'd visited with the rest of Young Justice (before a villain crashed it). It was two sizes too big at the time, so it still fit, and the GOO FIGHTERS graphic had cracked and faded.

But it was gone. And Tim was this close to a meltdown only his comfort hoodie could cure.

It wasn’t that he never let anyone borrow his clothes. He didn’t like to, but when all kinds of kid vigilantes were in and out of your room and sometimes covered in various fluids (human or alien), they borrowed your clothes. Kon had worn it before he died, and then Tim had worn it, unwashed, for long after it stopped smelling like his cologne and simply stunk. That was a while ago, though. Things were better now. And he liked his showers frequent and his laundry crisp.

Before he'd passed out after last night's patrol, Steph invited him to a late brunch at the local Gotham chain diner Grindstone’s. The Hill location was fairly close to the apartment she shared with Cass, enough so that the rotating cast of teenage servers knew all of their names. Tim was a less frequent visitor, strict as his diet was, but he suspected the staff gossiped about the guy with two girlfriends, or the girlfriends who sometimes brought their boyfriend, or whatever. It was also possible that they simply knew who Tim Drake was.

When he reached the diner, the girls were already there. They dragged him into their side of the booth and smoothed the paper place mats all together. Someone had procured a box of crayons and the beginnings of a very purple and yellow doodle of both Batgirls covered half the local ads. Steph squeezed him under her arm in a headlock because he wasn't going to order fries to share (and Grindstone's had the best cornmeal-coated fries in town), and he found himself face-to-face with the very familiar fabric of Cass's sweatshirt.

How had he missed it?

“That's mine,” he choked out, launching at her across Steph's lap the moment he was out of the headlock. “Where did you get that?!”

Cass blinked at him, a smug little twist to her lips. “You left it.”

No, he distinctly remembered folding it and placing it in his Favored Location in his closet beneath the theater–Oh. Oh, no. He'd worn it to movie night two weeks ago. And then the three of them had gotten a little…distracted, and he'd gone home the next morning in something else. Steph's oversized denim trucker jacket, with the huge pockets, he thought. He'd forgotten all about the hoodie.

“I need it back,” he sniffed. Steph elbowed him in the side. Their server was balancing five plates in her arms and didn't look prepared to handle whatever they were doing. Once he sat up, she spread out their dishes as best she could with the three of them on the same side of the table. Steph had gotten chocolate chip pancakes, Cass had ordered a cheesy omelet and a plate of corned beef hash, and Tim had gotten his favorites: strawberry-stuffed French toast and the fries he'd been threatened bodily harm over. Shortly after, she returned with a strawberry shake (Steph), an iced hot chocolate with whipped cream and shaved chocolate (Cass), and a frothy cappuccino with pistachio syrup (him). “I've been looking for that for days,” he said, because he wasn't going to let it go.

“Shut up and eat your berries,” Steph said, and cuffed his ear. She scooped some whipped cream off of Cass's drink. Cass simply took a bite of her omelet.

He leaned into Steph, giving Cass his best puppy eyes over her shoulder. “You don't understand,” he whined, “I need it for my health.”

“Bathroom,” Cass said, still with that twinkle in her eye, as she forced them to file out of the booth. When she stood, he noticed the odd fit of her jeans: they were narrowest at the top and too wide for her hips. They were shaped like Stephanie.

He pointed incredulously. “Do any of the clothes you're wearing belong to you?!”

Cass looked over her shoulder and smirked. “Underwear.” That shut him up. He flopped back in the booth to pick at his food. Steph relayed an engrossing story about her feral poetry professor, and then abruptly stopped. She tapped his shoulder frantically.

“Tim. Ohmigod.”

In front of their table, Cass was standing with the hoodie looped over one arm, but that wasn't the interesting part. She was wearing…well, underwear, he supposed, if one was the conservative sort. It was one of those bodysuits Steph had DM'd him, but he could never parse out if it was a hint for the next gift-giving occasion or if she just wanted to show him hot women in goth lingerie. The bodysuit itself was mostly translucent black, with twisting snakes slithering around the waist and breasts. Cass's stomach was almost bare under the fabric, but an ornate diamond shape clung above her belly button. She was wearing pasties. Tim could feel something very embarrassing happening to him under the table.

“Oh my God, you sexy creature!” Steph squealed. She very openly felt up Cass's waist and twirled around her to appreciate a 360 of the bodysuit (or, Tim thought painfully, what parts of it were visible above her jeans). “Tim! Say something!”

His throat felt dry. This was his punishment from God for asking Cass to take off a hoodie he could mostly live without. “I'm dying,” he said, “you're killing me. You're too beautiful.” It was very possible he would die in this diner crushed between Cass's femme fatale bodice and Steph's ample chest. There were certainly worse ways to go.

Nevertheless, as soon as he had his hoodie back, he threw it over his head and melted into the thick fabric. This time it was scented with Cass and the shampoo she shared with Steph.

Oh. Oh, this brunch was going to be torture.

[sequinsmile-x]

The Way Home - Chapter 20

A fresh start. That’s what she needed. Not the turn of a page, or a new chapter, but a brand new book.

She left everything behind, and just hoped that she had better things ahead.

A Hotchniss College AU

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: This chapter contains brief references to miscarriage

Full list of warnings and previous chapters can be found on the Series Master List

-x-

I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you to everyone who has read, interacted and enjoyed this fic. It’s been so much fun to write, but I’m never quite sure how an AU will land, so thank you, THANK YOU, for all your love and support for this version of them. 

A special thanks to @ssa-sparks, @hancydrewfan, and @prentissinred who have all let me just talk at them about this fic for MONTHS. You are all just the best and I couldn’t do it without you. 

And also thank you to @cloudlessly-light for helping me figure out what to do with Emily’s career in this!

I hope you all enjoy this last chapter! <3

(Sorry if tumblr is being weird on desktop with the formatting- it's fine on mobile <3)

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Summer 2006 - Arlington, VA 

Emily groans as she lifts a box onto the kitchen table, smiling at the photo on top. It was from her and Aaron’s first holiday season as a couple. The photo was taken Christmas Eve, the day they’d had Jack, the little boy squished between them and his smile wide. 

“Emily, I can’t find my tie.” 

She shakes her head. He certainly wasn’t little anymore. 

“It’s down here sweetie,” she replies, shouting up the stairs, “Where you left it last night.”

She hears the familiar footfall of her step-son as he runs down the stairs. She can’t help but smile when he comes into view, his nerves evident in the way he held himself, his shoulders tense. He smiles sheepishly at her as he grabs the tie off of the back of one of the chairs at the kitchen counter. 

“Thanks, Emily,” he says, looking at the box she has in front of her and noticing it’s full of his things, “Keen to get rid of me?” 

She narrows her eyes at him, her glare only making his smile wider. “Of course not,” she says, “But moving sucks and you have two houses with your stuff in, moving to college is hard enough as it is so I thought I’d get a head start.” 

“You’re very good at packing,” Jack comments as he roots through the box, “I forgot I’d need some of this.” 

She hums as she smiles at him, “Moving as much as I did when I was a kid has its benefits.”

He chuckles, and looks around the kitchen, “Where’s Dad?” 

“He had to go into the office, he’s just finished that big case so had some files to submit, but he’ll be back soon I promise. He wouldn’t miss today for the world.” She assures him, squeezing his arm. 

It was strange sometimes, to think that the little boy she met had grown into this young man next to her. He was taller than her now, the same height as his father. He towered over Haley, something that he took great joy in reminding her of frequently. 

“I’m glad he won,” Jack says, opening the fridge door, always on the hunt for food, “Because it was on TV it would have been embarrassing if he hadn’t.” 

Emily laughs at the typical teenage reaction, “And, you know, a serial killer has been sent to prison for the rest of his life.” 

Jack shrugs his shoulders, “That too.” 

After Emily graduated from college her and Aaron, alongside Haley and Jack, moved to DC, a return home for all of them that suited them well. 

Over the years, Aaron worked his way up to state prosecutor, a job that kept him busy but that he enjoyed. A goal he had set himself during the trial against Ian for his attempt on Emily’s life, wanting to help people the way that prosecutor had helped Emily. Finally getting her justice after she’d been so let down by the system previously. 

It was a big part of her decision to be in the system herself. Social work had never been something she would have considered before everything with Ian, but it was the only thing that felt right afterwards. Her natural empathy and her talent for picking up languages made her a popular choice, and she now worked for the state, creating and maintaining policies that would have protected her when she was younger. 

Their friends often joked that they were a power couple, and that no criminal in the DC area had a chance with them around. 

The sound of a door opening cuts off any further conversation, the thundering of tiny feet on the upstairs landing and then the stairs themselves making both Emily and Jack smile. 

“Here comes trouble,” Emily comments, winking at the teenager before turning to look at her daughter as she runs at her at full speed, catching the four-year-old and lifting her onto her hip before she could crash into her legs, “Morning Ellie.” 

“G’Morning Mama.” 

Eleanor Grace Hotchner was, according to Aaron, 100% Emily. He often joked that he wondered if he’d been involved in the process at all, or if Emily had somehow cloned herself. Their little girl her double in just about every way. 

“You sleep ok?” Emily asks, pressing a series of kisses to the little girl's cheek, laughing as Eleanor leans away from her slightly, a smile on her face as she nods. 

“Jack’s big day!” 

Emily looks over at Jack, who was halfway through eating a handful of dry cereal he’d clearly found in the pantry. 

“Yes sweetie, it’s Jack’s graduation today,” she says, kissing her daughter on her head before she passes her over to Jack, her eyebrow raised as she takes the cereal box from him, “Why don’t you two go sit down and watch TV, and I’ll get your dad to make us all breakfast when he gets here.” 

Jack holds Eleanor close, their bond something that had been instantaneous since he first held her, despite their 14-year age gap. He bounces her on his hip, making her laugh as he leaves the kitchen. 

“Come on Elly Elephant,” he says, making her giggle, “Let's go watch some cartoons.” 

Emily shakes her head as she watches her children go, sighing as she once again laments how quickly the years had gone by.

___

“Em, we have five minutes and then we have to go.” 

Emily rolls her eyes at her husband’s insistent tone, opening the door to their ensuite to find him standing just on the other side, his hands on his hips. She walks out to the bedroom to join him, finishing clipping on the earring she had been adjusting. 

“Honey, we’re fine. The school is 10 minutes away at most. The ceremony doesn’t start for another hour,” she turns so her back is facing him, and he wordlessly zips up her dress for her, his fingers sliding up her spine in a way she knew was unnecessary. She turns to look at him, smiling as she loops her arms around his neck, “We definitely don’t have time for that though.” 

Aaron smiles at her as he pulls her closer, his hands on her lower back. He leans down and kisses her, his lips gentle against hers. 

“Later?” He asks, and her smile widens before she leans in to kiss him again.

“Later,” she confirms, pulling back to look at him, her fingers idly playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as she cups his cheek with her other hand. “You ok?”

Aaron sighs, his lips in a tight smile as he nods. He wraps his hand around her wrist, his thumb rubbing at the thin scar she had there, a reminder of the surgery she’d had to fix it, of the metal that laid just beneath the surface. She often wondered if the way it would ache in the cold was a phantom memory, her brain remembering how it felt when he’d slammed it into the wall, his hand tight around her throat.

Sometimes she still woke up and could feel that too. Only brought back to the present by her husband, the way he would invade all of her senses. Make her forget that she’d ever been touched by someone else. 

She had a lot of scars from that time, the one on her wrist just happened to be the only visible one. 

“Yeah, I am. I just can’t believe he’s graduating high school,” he replies. It was strange to think that Jack was now only a couple of years younger than he and Haley had been when they had him. The years had passed by faster than he’d anticipated, and sometimes he missed the days when Jack was young and hung on his every word. “It feels like only yesterday he wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend.” 

Emily laughs, “I know honey,” she replies, her fingers trailing through his hair, “But Harvard isn’t that far away, and you know he’ll come back as often as he can,” she smirks at him, “He’ll miss Haley’s cooking too much.” 

He chuckles, “Speaking of which, don’t think I didn’t notice one of her lasagnes in the fridge.” 

“She offered,” she shrugs, “You know she can’t say no to Ellie.” 

Haley was without a doubt one of Eleanor’s favourite people, a connection that hadn’t surprised any of them. She was a fixture in their lives, and only lived a couple of streets away. After she’d saved Emily’s life, purely by being in the right place at the right time, they’d become friends, and she’d even come to their wedding.

It was odd, sometimes, for Aaron to remember that Haley was once someone he thought he would spend his life with. Even stranger again to think that, in some way, he had, just not as his partner as he would have once thought. 

“At least Ellie will still be here for a long time,” Aaron grumbles, the mere thought of his little girl being old enough to graduate high school when she was only just about to start kindergarten in the fall enough to make him frown, “And any others we might have.” 

Emily’s smile falters slightly, a common reaction when he brought up the prospect of other children. Eleanor hadn’t been their first pregnancy or even their second. The two losses they’d gone through before still made her sad when she thought about them, pre-emptive grief at the thought of going through it again enough to make her wonder if she even wanted to try. Until she had Eleanor she was convinced what had happened in Rome had caused long-term damage, and had cried herself to sleep in Aaron’s arms more than once. Begging for forgiveness he would not give her because she had nothing to be sorry for.

She loved Eleanor with every part of her, but pregnancy had been rough on Emily. Her sickness, which could only be remedied by some specific chewing gum that Haley had recommended, mixed with her constant anxiety that something would go wrong had meant it wasn’t enjoyable at all. 

She wanted another child and had dreams of a little boy that was the perfect mix of her and Aaron, but the fear choked her and made her freeze every time he mentioned it. 

“Aaron-”

He leans forward and kisses her cheek, his hold on her briefly tightening, “I know love,” he says, kissing her again, “At your pace, ok?” 

She nods against him, pulling back and offering him a shaky smile, “We should get going.” 

Aaron smiles at her and links his hand through hers, leading her out of their room and down the stairs. As they approach the living room, they hear the tv is on, the news clearly on the screen. 

“George Foyet was charged with 12 counts of murder, but state prosecutor Aaron Hotchner claims he may have killed up to 36-”

“Jack,” Aaron says, catching his son’s attention from his cell phone and tilting his head towards Eleanor who was playing with her toy dinosaurs, “Please turn that off.” 

Jack looks between his little sister and the tv, cursing under his breath as he grabs for the remote and turns it off. “Sorry, Dad.” 

“It’s ok,” Aaron says, checking his watch, “We really should get going.” 

Emily detaches herself from her husband and walks over to Eleanor, “Come on sweet girl,” she says, smiling at her, “Let's go.” 

Eleanor stands up, one of her dinosaurs still in one hand, and grabs her mother’s hand with the other. 

“Aunt Haley’s there?” She asks, her excitement clear. 

“Yes baby,” Aaron replies, opening the front door, sharing a smile with his wife, “Aunt Haley is there.” 

“Then let’s go!” Eleanor demands, pulling Emily towards the front door. 

Emily laughs, gladly following her daughter, “You heard the girl,” she looks at Jack, sees the nerves on his face that she had seen the first thing that morning again, and she reaches for his hand too, linked in between them both, “Come on sweetie, the sooner we go, the sooner we’ll be home.” 

It was a mantra she’d shared with him since he was small and she first found her footing in his life. It was something she’d said to him to get him through dentist appointments, or visits to the doctor. His first day at his new school when they moved to DC. Their home, and the one he had at Haley’s, his safe space. 

“Yeah,” Jack smiles, squeezing his stepmother’s hand, turning and smiling at his father as he places a hand on his shoulder, “We’ll be home soon.” 

___

Red Onion State Prison, VA

He was counting down the days, every day of his sentence seemingly longer than the last. It had been almost 13 years and he still had 7 left until he would even be considered for parole. 

Each day, he hated her a little more. He could feel it consume him, overtake the place he once felt love for his son who now called another man daddy, his conviction of attempted murder enough to make Chloe take him from him entirely. 

There’s rapping on the cell bars, and he looks up, smirking at the guard he hated almost as much as he hated her. 

“Doyle,” the guard sneers, stepping aside so a man in an orange jumpsuit can step into the cell, meet your new cellmate.” He steps back, pulling the bars back across and smiling at them from the other side. “Get to know each other, you’ll both be here a while.” 

Ian watches as he walks away before looking back at his new cellmate. The man was tall, skinny and had shaved his head, and he wonders what on earth this man could have done to end up in a high security prison, looking on the surface of it incapable of a crime that would have landed him here. 

Then his eyes meet his, and he sees it, the same fury he feels, anger that nowhere to go, and he smiles. 

“Doyle, is it?” The man says, offering him his hand. 

“Ian Doyle,” he replies, shaking his hand. “And you?” 

The man smiles, clearly amused by the fact he didn’t know his name. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Ian. I’m George Foyet.” 

-x-

The Way Home’s sequel, Home, is coming soon in January 2023

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[dragonmasterhiccup]

Both he and Fizban nodded intently as they listened to him talk. Gruemar then smiled. "Sounds like a very interesting dragon it's a wonder you ever ran into one and escaped to tell the tale. A testament to your knowledge and skill, young master."

He then nodded in response to his question. "Silver dragons, you say? Sure, I don't mind speaking about them. Let's see. At first glance, a silver dragon appears very similar to a white dragon. Their wings, however, are more curved than a white's silver dragons also have two talons on their wings rather than the single talon of most dragons. Silver dragons also have a beautiful frill that begins at the top of their head and flows all the way down their neck and body to the tip of their tail. The frill is silver towards the body, fading to a purple hue at the edge. They also have two long, smooth silver horns with black tips, pointing up and back from the head. They also have a pronounced sharp frill under their chin, which has the rough appearance of a goatee. They also smelled like rain."

Gruemar then yawned for a moment before he continued. "They are very intelligent, more so than most humans, are extremely powerful, breathtakingly beautiful, and have lifespans that can reach up to 4,200 years. Unlike us gold and bronze dragons, silver dragons do not usually go out of their way to bring justice to the world. Instead, they tend to waited for others to ask them for help; They will however attempt to right an injustice if they see one, but they have no inclination to intentionally seek evil out and destroy it. Silver dragons are normally more interested in protecting any humans or elves that came into its care. One unusual trait they tend to have is the love of human dining; moreover, they would use their ability to take alternate forms to take part in large feasts."

Gruemar gave a short chuckle thinking about it. "While I have met my fair share of silver dragons, I've never stopped to think about how silly they are enjoying such things. Let's see what else is there." He continued on with a smile on his face. "Silver dragons are known for enjoying the company of humans and elves so much that they often will take the form of a human or elf and live among them for the majority of their life. However, it should be noted that silvers, like most dragons, believed themselves the most superior creatures in the world. However, apart from the ability to fly, which they enjoyed greatly, they tended to prefer the physical forms of humanoids for their everyday life. When it comes to living with other races, silver dragons would grow attached to them and maintain a long-term relationship. As they died, the silver dragon, grieved by the loss, would normally continue to associate with their descendants, remaining a friend through many generations. If the dragon felt they could trust these non-dragons enough, it might even decide to reveal its true self."

"Let's see what's next. Oh yes, the breath weapon. I am sure you wish to know each dragons individual breath weapon. You see, like most metallic dragons, silvers do not enjoy combat and are rather averse to killing. If forced to fight, however, they are as deadly as any other dragon. Silver dragons have two separate breath weapons. The first being a cone of freezing cold, similar to that of a white dragon. The second was a cone of paralyzing gas."

He then paused for a moment as he began to stretch his wings lightly, flapping them as he continued speaking. " Most silver dragons grouped together in "clans," they were mostly a loose organization of dragons who chose to live together as a family. Clans took communal responsibility for protecting and raising their wyrmlings. A senior member of the clan might act as a leader, but no true leader normally exists as silver dragons do not feel the need for a strict social structure since they are normally content to live as honestly as possible."

His jaw dropped. "Over four thousand years?? And another shape changer...I can't believe it...Well, I can, because you're telling it to me, but...it's just hard to wrap my head around..."

He stepped forward, putting away his notebook. "You have told me so much tonight, and I am grateful, but...and please, don't misunderstand, but you look like you could use some rest. I have some stories and dragon knowledge you might enjoy as well."

"One of the most unique dragons I've come across is the Flightmare. They eat glowing algae, which in turn causes them to glow bright blue. They have a toxic mist that they spray, which paralyzes their victims in fear, and they have acid blasts as well. Two breath weapons, like yourself."

"There's also the Armorwing. They meld metal to their torso, because they don't have any scales there to protect themselves. Now, their breath weapon is what they use to fuse this metal together. It can also temporarily damage the eyesight of their enemies as well."

A story...he did have many to choose from. He decided on telling of when he and Toothless learned to fly using the new tail fin he had made. He was quite animated in his telling, using large arm gestures, and Toothless even chimed in here and there. Though Hiccup could only guess what Toothless what saying from his expression and movement, he knew Gruemar understood it fully. "...and so, that's how I was able to help Toothless take to the sky once more."

[annisshifting]

Introduction of my Magic Misfits DR

This is my main DR, and the DR that I— attempt, because I haven't gone for any significant amount of time —shift to the most.

It's gone through a lot of changes as time passes, and as it comes to my four year anniversary of finding out about shifting and starting this journey, that has lead me down this path that hasn't involved a lot of shifting to this point surprisingly. I wanted to finally share this DR and express some gratitude to it.

Things I've added to this DR:

I wanted to explain this before we get into the about of this DR. As I said, I've fiddled with this DR for a while and I want to explain this DR in a way that isn't confusing.

I've added another books magic system.

No, not Harry Potter, frankly the Harry Potter magic system makes my head hurt and I don't really like it.

It's the Revenge of Magic (by James Riley) magic system. It's described in the books like learning a new language, and well yes some people it comes naturally too, anyone could technically learn it.

So...

About this DR:

To properly explain this DR we need to go back, back a long time; to a time of verbal history and folklore. In the early ages of history magic was often exploited or prosecuted. This caused many with access to magic to hide it, fearing the consequences of using magic publicly.

You may wonder how that effects this tale, but I assure you this is important.

Centuries pass, and a young magicians club is practicing in the basement of a resort one of members lives at. Their practicing for a talent show when the building catches on fire. This causes the magicians club to split in two; the Emerald Butterflies and the Scarlet Ring.

For this post, we are focusing on the Scarlet Ring. They became wildly successful in their chosen fields of stage performance and for a while the Scarlet Ring was happy to put their pasts behind them...

Except one.

Kilroy had been whispering of a plan of revenge for many years, but none of the other members took it seriously because they believed Kilroy would never risk the life he had built over some fantasy of getting even with the people he deemed responsible for the fire.

Then, Kilroy kidnapped one of the other members infant daughters and all hell broke loose.

Since there wasn't enough evidence to prove Kilroy was the one who stole the child the Scarlet Ring did the closest thing to justice they could; they stripped Kilroy of everything, his fame, his riches, everything that wasn't nailed down and banished him.

It was a nasty ordeal, with cursing and screaming.

Life marches on though, despite the awful events that take place in life times. The Scarlet Ring continued and grew around the grief that was the loss of one of their children, and continued forward no matter how dark some of those days got.

Then... they caught wind that Kilroy was making moves in their old home town. Putting his revenge plot into motion, and... it was going to end in a murder.

The Scarlet Ring wasn't going to let this plan succeed. At least not without a fight.

About Me:

In this DR my name is Wish. I'm the child of one of the three leaders of the Scarlet Ring, Kincaid. My chosen stage arts are acrobatics and evocation.

I'm a teenager with the only difference in my DR appearance compared to my CR appearance is that my hair is naturally black so I don't have to dye it.

I get dragged to this whole Emerald Butterfly vs. Kilroy vs. Scarlet Ring debacle when my best friend (kinda my only friend) finds out her father was going to steal this huge diamond and things snowball from there.

Summary/TL;DR:

Thanks, Uncle Sly (/sarcastic)

[violet-knox]

young severus with a male gryffindor reader? or just a male reader in general

Leap of Faith

Pairing: Male!Reader x Young!Severus

Summary: After finally finding the courage you lacked all these years as a Gryffindor, you finally found enough of it to ask out your one and only crush, excited and nervous to go on your first date.

Warnings: Mention of child neglect, abuse and lack of self worth, but it's mostly fluff

Word Count: 3524

A/N: So first things first. I'm SO SORRY to the anon who requested this. I don't even know how long it's been, I hope you're still around to read it because I by no means did not plan for it to take this long. Life got away from me, I stopped writing for a while and then had a lot to catch up on (still trying to catch up on).

On another note...

I understand the need to ask for physical specifics for the reader when it comes to under represented Snape x reader fics, and while I have no issue with this, I would really prefer if some sort of plot was also indicated. It just makes it easier for me to come up with a storyline when I have more than just a physical description of the reader since that isn’t something I usually concentrate on with the exception of smut. 

It was a bit difficult for me to figure out what I wanted to write for this request since my first instinct is to keep away from specifying the gender of the reader and while I do try to keep the reader gender neutral even if the request specified the reader as female, I just didn’t feel like that was an appropriate thing to do for this one for two different reasons: first, if I kept the reader gender neutral, that sort of defeats the purpose of the request since I’d be left with just “Gryffindor reader” (which I’ve done before) and second, Snape x male readers are scarce and this was a good opportunity for me to expand from my comfort writing bubble and contribute to a less targeted demographic. 

I wouldn’t call myself a natural writer, it isn’t something I’ve ever been comfortable with and it took a lot to get to the point where I am now so this was definitely a challenge since I’d gotten so comfortable in the bubble of reusing the same few very similar characters (usually only varying in Hogwarts house placement) to put in place of the reader while I wrote (this is just part of my writing process as I can’t really write imagining a ball of nothing in place of the reader while I write). I hope I did justice to the request despite my non-existent experience writing for male readers and I’m happy I got the opportunity to push myself.

You could still remember it, that first time you met him on the train before you’d even arrived at Hogwarts. He’d stormed out of his compartment and bumped straight into you, a boy who’d just found out a few weeks ago that he was a Wizard. You were a nobody, a shadow to him. You would never even dream of someone like him, someone who grew up knowing all about the Wizarding World to know your name. You’d always wondered what caused him to run out of that compartment so fast, though over the years, overhearing James and Sirius talking and laughing in the boy’s dorm about ‘that slimy git’ who wouldn’t leave Lily alone, you could only guess that they’d begun their abuse that same day, seeing them smirking and laughing when you passed the compartment window.

Every year you’d go back to the Muggle world, hiding who you truly were in fear of expulsion only to return to a school to hide yet another part of who you were. Gryffindors were supposed to be brave, yet you were far from it. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone the truth, let alone the one person in the entire castle you’d grown to care for. Your heart broke every time you heard whispers of Severus pining over Lily and over the years, you’d convinced yourself that you wouldn’t have to reveal yourself because the one person you cared for couldn’t care for you back. But oh how badly you wanted to. It wasn’t until you spoke with Lily that you realized he cared for her because she was the first and only person who treated him like a human being that deserved to live. She was the first person to show him a glimpse of friendship while everyone else around him treated him like he was worthless.

It wasn’t fair to him. It wasn’t fair that you were the only one who could see the beauty and grace in his loyalty, his passion and admiration for greatness. It took everything you had not to shout at the world for mistreating him, defending him against the universe that seemed determined to test him time and time again. But you couldn’t. What would people think? You were barely friends with him. In fact, you didn’t even know he remembered you until he called your name, asking if you had a spare quill you could lend him in class a few months ago. All these years later, after pining over him, watching him from a far, fantasizing about your name escaping his lips, he’d remembered your first run in, the first conversation you’d ever had with someone at Hogwarts. After that day, you thought of nothing but all the missed opportunities you’d had to speak with him, get to know him and it was at that moment that you decided you’d stayed in the shadows enough. You had to take action, else you would have spent the rest of your life wondering what if.

The blood rushed through your veins as your heart worked overtime to keep from exploding when you first approached him. After all the anticipation and fantasizing these last five years, your first real conversation wasn’t as bad as you imagined. He was reserved of course, defensive as always, but open to your words. He listened and spoke with you as an equal, recognizing the fact that you were nothing like the Gryffindors that harassed him, that you were very much still that kind boy that spoke with him that first day on the Hogwarts Express, salvaging his first experience in the Wizarding World. These last few months were the best months of your life. You spent every second of everyday thinking about Severus, looking forward to seeing him whenever you could, finding a sense of relief when you finally took that extra step and asked him out.

You were so scared. Rejection was a natural thing of course, everyone experiences it, but that wasn’t your fear. You risked asking him out because you weren’t sure he’d be interested in boys and if he wasn’t, you worried what little progress you’d made with yourself would crumble into a million pieces. Would he laugh at you? Would he run away in disgust? Tell the whole school your secret? But he didn’t do any of that. He actually accepted like it was the most natural and logical question you could have asked. He acted as if you’d asked him if he’d finished his Potion’s homework, like it was the most obvious question in the world and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

Your smile didn’t fade until the next day, your mind wandering in class to what your first date might be like. Would he be as nervous as you? Would you talk as if it was just another day? Would you share your first kiss at the end? You didn’t know what to expect, but you finally felt ready and that was enough for you. You woke up an hour early to get dressed. You went through every single item you had in your trunk, tossing it upside down until you finally felt comfortable enough to leave the dorm for breakfast. It had snowed the night before, the entire castle grounds covered in a pure white, the sun shining behind a few clouds, shimmering against the white flakes. Hogwarts had never looked so magical though you wondered if your imagination and excitement exaggerated the scenery.

“(Y/N).” You heard him call for you and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest, your smile returning as you turned around to see him approaching you. His hair looked much softer than usual, sleek and shiny. The expression he wore had you wondering if his initial acceptance of this date was all a mirage. His eyes were sharp, his jaw tense. He was trying very hard not to look nervous.

“Severus,” you nearly choked on his name, as if you weren’t worthy enough to speak it. “So, you want to tell me where we’re going?”

“Not just yet,” he said, looking back at you with that half smile he rarely ever showed and a devious twinkle in his eye. You couldn’t recall the last time you ever saw him wearing a full God honest smile. First year perhaps? He always looked like the world had wronged him, like he wasn’t allowed the happiness everyone craved. Maybe one day you’d see him give you a proper smile, that would be the day you knew you’d done right by him.

“I seem to recall that I was the one that asked you out,” you replied, picking up your pace to catch up to him. He was always so calculated, a bit opposite to your own persona. But perhaps that was a good thing. He could balance out your spontaneous nature and add a bit of mystery to your life. You couldn’t lie though, a part of you worried he kept the location of your date a secret to trick you into some horrible trap. Would the entire school be waiting for you, laughing at you? Or would he try and harm you in some way as revenge for asking him out?

“Yes, but it’s your own fault for not preparing a location, or a date for that matter which gives me all the right to withhold our destination from you.” Typical of a Gryffindor to act before thinking. But he couldn’t blame you for the courageous act you took. In truth, he’d been hoping you felt towards him as he did you. But you were a Gryffindor, you slept in the same dorm as Potter, ate at the same table, he could never bring himself to ask of your interest in him because he knew rejection would lead to much more than a broken heart. He would be humiliated beyond belief, driven to an unbearable life.

Lily was the only other person that knew his secret. She was his best friend, until Potter entered her life and did everything in his power to make her hate him all because of one conversation on the train to Hogwarts. Potter was the living example of what ignorance brought, and he could never tell anyone about his affection towards a boy like you because of that. He could only be grateful that you’d approached him, thankful that you showed truth in your eyes when you had no plans beyond asking him out. Even if it was a trick, even if you’d planned something with Potter, he had control, he chose when to meet, where to meet, where you’d go.

“We’re not going into the Forbidden Forest, are we?” You began to worry as you saw Severus leading you towards the forest. You were all for exploration and adventures, but students weren’t allowed in there and for good reason.

“I thought Gryffindor’s were supposed to be brave,” Severus teased with a smug smirk. He’d always wanted to explore the forest, knowing full well what sort of creatures awaited him in there, but such a place was not appropriate for a first date. Perhaps on your fifth date, he’d propose the idea. Fifth date. He spoke to himself as if the future was set in stone, like that one question you’d asked him had cemented your relationship, a binding honest agreement that couldn’t be broken.

“Severus, you know we aren’t allowed to roam around in there,” you almost spoke with a stern voice, but more than anything, you were simply worried and unprepared for such an adventure and in all honesty, you didn’t think you could focus on anything other than this date going well. You would absolutely die if the one boy you’d ever asked out ended up not liking you. What were you to do if this date was a disaster? You could never bring yourself to ask out another boy again, and worst of all, you could never speak to or look at Severus ever again.

“Relax, we’re not entering the forest,” he eased your mind, slowing down a bit to get near you. “There’s a hidden path beside the forest, that’s where we’re going.”

You looked over to where Severus was pointing and smiled in relief. You’d never noticed this trail and as you approached it, you began to wonder if anyone other than Severus had discovered it. It wasn’t something you’d notice if you weren’t specifically looking for it and for a moment, you wondered how Severus found it. You followed behind him on the path, watching him confidently walk through the trail that only fit one, wondering how often he’d walked this path. The trail was so narrow, almost perfectly fitting Severus’ physique as if he was the only person to have ever walked this way before, like it was made for him, or perhaps made by him.

“Not much further,” Severus assured you, feeling anxious to make it to the end of the path, wishing the path was wide enough to accommodate you both side by side, and perhaps, one day, if you continued to date, it would. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d walked through this trail, and the more he did, the more he feared someone else would discover it. He hadn’t told anyone about his discovery since the day Potter chased him off into the Forbidden Forest, the trail he found saving him from a certain doom. Not even Lily knew he’d run off here from time to time.

The path suddenly widened and Severus turned back, waiting for you to catch up. You looked over at the clearing the path had led to, trees surrounding it like a barrier, the grass covered in a thin layer of snow. It was an amazing little area and you couldn’t believe more people didn’t know about this place.

“This way,” Severus continued onwards, walking through some trees, leading to a steep incline. You followed him, wondering what more there was to see. You didn’t have to walk far as Severus stopped, enchantedly staring down a cliff. Joining him, you could see why he was excited to get here. The cliff stared down at Hogwarts, the castle seeming miniscule from this distance. Everything was covered in a light layer of snow and you were in absolute awe at the sight.

“Wow,” you whispered in amazement, trying to take in every inch of the scenery, the feeling of the sun shining down on you, the cold air breezing through your hair. This was definitely first date worthy, a place to remember and enjoy in the future.

“I’m glad you like it,” Severus said, staring at you, relieved everything had been going smoothly so far. This was it, the moment of belief that this was real. Someone had shown actual interest in him and beyond friendship for that matter. It felt surreal, like he wasn’t ready for such a privilege, but he enjoyed the feeling of being wanted very much, a feeling unfamiliar to him.

“It’s amazing! I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”

“No one knows about this place,” Severus spoke softly, his voice shaking as he finally realized what he’d done. The one place in this entire world he felt safe, the one place he felt belonged to him was no longer so. Someone else shared it with him now, someone else had stepped foot where he believed no one else had been. He’d opened up this place, himself to this virtual stranger. But you weren’t a stranger, you were the boy who salvaged his first day at Hogwarts, the boy that secretly stood by him all these years, the boy that now knew more about him than his own best friend.

“Oh?” You raised a brow at him, wondering what was running through his mind, why he seemed so scared all of a sudden.

“I discovered it a few years ago and put a spell on the path to derail anyone else from finding it,” Severus confessed. You could go running to your Head of House, to the Headmaster, or even worse, his Head of House. He would surely be expelled in a moment's notice, something he was sure Potter would love to see. There was still a chance, a chance you might betray him, but his heart told him his mind was wrong. His thoughts were trying to poison the pure and loving connection between you as they usually did and he wouldn’t let them win this time.

“Then why was I able to follow you?” You asked in awe. You always knew Severus was a gifted Wizard, that his skills went beyond what you were taught in class. If anyone was going to grow up to change the world, it would be Severus. But the level of talent that required a spell such as this was beyond the knowledge of even a Seventh year and you could only imagine the sort of amazing things he could accomplish after graduation.

“Because you’re with me,” he said in an obvious sort of way. You smiled at him, your curiosity peaked. Clearly he used this spot for a specific purpose and either this was a special place to him, a place reserved just for him and his thoughts, in which case, it was rather sweet that he brought you here, or...

“Do you bring all your dates here then?”

Severus looked at you a bit stunned, wondering if that was a serious question or not. Did he look like the sort of person that would attract the attention of more than one person? Or did you think of him as some sort of predator?

“I’ve never brought anyone here,” he answered honestly, “and… I’d like for it to remain that way. Please don’t tell anyone I brought you here.”

He pleaded with you with the widest eyes you’d ever seen, eyes that begged you for your compliance and you knew that this truly was a special place for him. You did know what to say, what to think. He trusted you with this? He opened up to you enough to share this secret, this place that clearly meant a lot to him. There really was only one thing you could say: “I won’t”

You smiled at him, taking a step towards him and reaching for his hand. You slid your fingers along his icy palm and intertwined his long thin fingers with yours. Closing your grip, you stared into his eyes, hoping he understood how grateful you were for his trust, his openness and his honesty. Severus squeezed your hand as he looked back at you, his heart beating faster with worry and excitement. Where was this date going to go? He’d only planned for the worst, he’d only planned what to do when this date eventually went sideways, but what was he to do when it was going so well? He couldn’t even begin to comprehend why someone like you would ask him out, how was he to deal with the truth and honesty spilled out in front of him, staring at him with comfort and want. He didn’t understand, he didn’t know why this was happening to him.

“Why-why did you ask me out?” He asked, needing an answer, needing reassurance this wasn’t a trick, that this was real, that you had a real and valid reason for wanting this, for wanting him.

“Honestly Severus, I couldn’t stop thinking about you since the day we first met. I’ve wanted to ask for a while and only managed to find the courage to do so now.” You were taken a bit by surprise at the question, but he wasn’t exactly popular with your peers. He was a loner, the person people whispered about behind his back so you understood his lack of self-worth and hesitation.

“But why me?”

“Because I think you’re brilliant,” you said honestly, deciding honesty was the only way about this. You’d both opened up so much to each other already, a good start to what you hoped would be a long and fruitful relationship and honesty was how you were going to move that relationship forward. You looked at Severus, realizing you had a ways to go before he believed any compliment coming out of your mouth. He stared at you as if you were speaking a different language, as if you didn’t understand the question and had spoken of someone else. “The day we first met, you told me that you’d always looked forward to going to Hogwarts, because you felt that it could provide you with something you’d never had before; a home. A place to be accepted, to be who you were freely without fear of discovery. I understood how you felt, because that’s all I’d ever wanted as well.”

Severus’ eyes narrowed as he began to digest what you just said, trying to sort through every word, every tone in your voice, every facial expression you gave him until he finally understood. “Acceptance?”

You nod your head with a smile, your shoulders dropping in relief. He understood you, he knew what it was like and finally you found someone that could relate to how you felt. You’d never felt so willing to open yourself up to someone before, so trusting and it scared you. But you were ready for this chapter in your life. You were tired of living in your own little bubble, you needed someone to share with, someone that would understand you.

“So, this place is a disappointment to us both then,” Severus stated smugly, looking down at the castle that was supposed to be his salvation. There were times where he was glad he was away from home, glad he could use his magic, but Potter and his friends made sure to remind him that he didn’t belong, that he deserved the abuse he endured all his life.

“I wouldn’t say that.” You brought his gaze back towards you and smiled. “I accept you, Severus.”

And for the first time since you’d met him, you saw a hint of a real smile appear on his face. He looked happy, like those four words were all he’d ever wanted to hear, all he ever needed to finally feel worthy of existing.

“I suppose Hogwarts did give us what we were looking for,” he whispered in absolute bliss. He couldn’t believe how gleeful he felt. His heart fluttering with joy and love, his eyes sparkling, the blood returning to his face, the warmth of your hand giving him life. For the first time ever, he felt happy.

“It certainly did,” you whispered back before leaning in to connect your lips with his. Severus’ lips moved with yours, his hands gripping you tightly as he leaned into your kiss like it was a lifeline. Your hearts beating in unison, the spark between you lighting into a flame larger than the sun as both your futures together began that very moment. One kiss to change the course of a singular person, one kiss to ignite a lasting romance, one kiss to save the world.

[ragingbookdragon]

A Heart That's Been Broken Is A Heart That's Been Loved

Bruce Wayne x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.1K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: I saw a video of a young man at his wedding listening to the heart of his deceased brother still beating in the woman's chest who received it. This idea sprung from it. -Thorne

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

She paced nervously on the front steps of Wayne Manor, heart leaping up and down her throat as she mentally repeated the conversation in her head. The documents in her purse felt like bricks and she hefted the bag higher onto her shoulder, swallowing her anxiety as the lock flicked and the door opened, revealing an older man, probably late fifties early sixties.

Smiling anxiously, she greeted, “Good morning, sir. How are you doing today?”

He returned her smile with a polite one of his own. “I am doing well this morning, thank you. And you?”

“I’ve seen birds more calm than I am,” she laughed, probably a little too hard, and stuck out her hand. “My name is (Y/N) (L/N). I was wondering if I could speak to Mister Wayne? If he’s in?”

The man frowned. “Master Bruce is in the breakfast room with his family at the moment. May I ask your business with him?”

(Y/N) reached into her bag and pulled out the documents, handing them to him. “It involves his mother, Martha Wayne. More importantly the organ transplant she gave some three and a half decades ago.”

He met her gaze and handed the documents back. “Please follow me.”

She nodded and entered the manor, the scent of cinnamon and fresh linen wafting up her nose. Shutting the door behind her, she let the man escort her through the foyer and through the hall into the kitchen where she was met with the sight of Bruce Wayne and all six of his children.

Their forks stopped when the man entered with her and he said, “Master Bruce, this young woman is here to speak with you. Her name is (Y/N) (L/N).”

Bruce wiped his mouth on his napkin and rose to his feet, shaking her hand. “Good morning, Miss (L/N).”

“Oh, please, call me (Y/N),” she smiled.

“(Y/N),” he corrected, matching her expression. “Alfred doesn’t usually let people into the manor, so I’m assuming you’ve something important to speak to me about?”

She nodded, clearing her throat when she felt the weight of the children’s stares. “Um, yes, Mister Wayne.” Reaching back into her purse, she pulled out the documents once more, but held them in her hands. “I don’t know how to say this lightly and I wish I did, but I felt like you should know.”

She handed them over, watching as he took them with a confused look and started reading. “Thirty-six years ago, your mother Martha Wayne donated her organs after she perished.” (Y/N) reached up, unbuttoning the first few buttons of her shirt, a healed scar peaking through the top of her bra. “Thirty-six years ago, I was severely wounded in a home robbery at nine. I received your mother’s heart.”

Bruce’s hands started to shake around the paper, and she murmured, “I’ve spent a long time trying to get the documentation, so I could come here and show you.” (Y/N) stuck her hand into her purse and pulled out a stethoscope. “Would you like to listen?”

He nodded, swallowing thickly, not trusting his words to accept for him and she handed it over, watching as he put it in his ears then lifted the chest-piece to the center of her chest; she didn’t dare make a sound as she breathed and his eyes suddenly went wide, filling with tears, then snapped shut and he brought a hand up to his face, covering his eyes.

(Y/N) felt tears of her own grow in her vision and she grasped his shoulders, squeezing them as tightly as she could, whispering, “I know your parents dying was traumatic, but your mother gave me life again. I’m alive because of Martha Wayne.”

“I never thought I’d hear mother’s heartbeat again,” he cried softly and wiped his eyes, though the tears kept coming; he sniffed harshly as he looked at her, a wobbly smile coming over his lips. “Thank you,” he breathed, a choked laugh escaping him, and he couldn’t help but shift the chest-piece, placing his palm right beside it.

She felt her heart rate pick up, thumping strongly against his hand and the two of them smiled at one another, tears running down their cheeks. “Of course,” she replied. “You have every right to hear her heart again.”

Bruce’s jaw clenched slightly as he tried to keep more tears at bay, and he shook his head. “It’s your heart. It’s both your hearts.” His thumb brushed tentatively over the scar. “I never knew mother’s organs had been donated…I’m glad they were. It’s what she would’ve wanted.”

“She and your father saved many lives with their donations,” (Y/N) replied. “I’m sure you could find out who, but I know they were the saviors of many.”

She watched Bruce remove his hand and the stethoscope, pulling out the earpieces; he wrapped it up and handed it back to her, along with the documents and she returned them to her purse, finally wiping her face.

“Thank you for letting me come here, Mister Wayne,” she said. “Thank you for giving me your time.”

He shook his head. “I’m the one who should be thanking you. You’ve given me a great gift.” When she looked at him curiously, he murmured, “My mother lives on. Her heart beats strongly in another woman just as beautiful and wonderful as she was.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks warm and she replied, “I hope I do her justice like you’ve said.” She reached out, intent to shake his hand, but Bruce pulled her into a strong hug; a smile crossed her lips, and she wrapped her arms around his middle, squeezing him tightly, whispering, “If you ever want to listen again. You can find me at Gotham University English Department. You’re welcome anytime.”

Bruce pulled away, hands still on her shoulders. “I might take you up on that offer.”

She smiled, eyes still a bit damp, and glanced at his children, some of whom had shed tears, and some had unshed tears in their eyes; she nodded at them, waving at a particular one. “Good morning, Timothy.”

He weakly waved, cheeks tear-stained. “Morning Professor (L/N).”

Smiling at them, she hugged Bruce once more and turned, heading for the door, though she briefly paused and faced the family once more. “There is no love like that of a mother’s. Whose love is everlasting, even after she has long been reclaimed by the earth. She exists in all she created, in all she touched. We are never without her, for she is ever with us.”

(Y/N) tipped her head, “Have a wonderful day,” and left.

[pinkteapotwriting]

Not so Innocent desires

Wolfstar x fem!reader

Warning : This is so filthy dear lord, explicit sexual content, Sub!fem reader, spanking, oral, innocence kink and I think that’s it

Just good ol fashioned smut

Summary : Turns out you Remus and Sirius want to treat you a certain way, it takes some special kind of convincing from your end though.

Word count : 3164

The lovely @fionanovasleftnut had a wonderful idea that I couldn’t resist writing about. I’m not sure with how this one turned out but I hope I did the idea justice. xXx

---

Being a family friend of the Weasleys had its perks. You always had someone to stick up for you, always had someone who could make you laugh, and you always had a home with them, wherever that may be. You had moved out on your own as soon as you graduated from Hogwarts, but it seemed that wasn’t the way to start your life as a young adult. The wizarding world was at war and Molly Weasley was insistent that one of her adopted daughters should not be defenseless living alone. 

You had tried to reassure her that you would be fine, you even approached your most likely allies.

“Fred, George please tell her I’ll be fine. You understand right?” They only chuckled at your cute pout and brushed your concerns aside.

So no. No one was willing to risk the parting of their lovely Y/N.

You were too kindhearted, too sweet, too pure. A ray of sunshine in these dark times, too precious to leave unprotected. 

You had been so angry at first, but your anger was soon turned into bashfulness as you were met by two very attractive men. Of course you knew Professor Lupin, he was your teacher and even now words from his mouth directed your way made heat rise to your face.

 Then there was Sirius Black. His long black hair framed his face perfectly. His stormy grey eyes made you completely weak at the knees. 

Everything about these two men left you flustered, Remus’s quick wit, Sirius’s hearty laugh, the knowing glances they’d share, Remus’s scars you just wanted to spend hours tracing, and Sirius’s ring clad fingers that tapped impatiently against the table. For being in Azkaban for 12 years his hands sure looked strong and capable. 

It was a blessing and a curse really. You got to admire two very attractive men, yet you couldn’t manage much more than bashful nods at times. That didn’t stop them from approaching you however. They were so kind and welcoming, so much so that you took up Sirius’s offer to stay there rather than at the Weasleys. He knew you valued your alone time and got anxious in large groups so he thought you’d appreciate your own room rather than crowding in with the Weasleys. It was all good and well.

Except for how often you found yourself rubbing your thighs together at night to ease some sort of tension. Nothing could stop the wetness that pooled in your underwear at the memory of Sirius clenching his jaw in anger as Snape talked, or the way Remus calmed him down by rubbing his hand up and down his thigh. So once again that night you found yourself with that familiar ache you just didn’t know how to satisfy on your own. Your fingers just weren’t good enough. You got up in a huff to get some water at an attempt to calm down. You slipped down the hallway silently, but the sound of a low moan coming from Sirius’s room stopped you in your tracks. The door was slightly ajar and although you knew you shouldn’t peek in, the dull throbbing of your clit convinced you to stay. You had to stifle your own moan at the sight in front of you. 

Sirius was sitting on the edge of his four poster king sized bed while Remus was on his knees between his legs jacking him off.

“Fuck Pads, how was it already this hard I’ve hardly touched you.”

“It’s not my fault! Blame Y/N with those stupid lips she bites. And her big doe eyes and and- fuck Moony that feels so good.” 

Remus grinned at the chance to tease Sirius.

“Not as good as Y/N would feel though right? Bet you’d love to have her little hands wrapped around your cock huh. Imagine if you got to stretch out her perfect little pussy. She’s so fucking innocent, so pure”

“I wanna ruin her god she’s pretty, but at the same time she’s so precious I don’t wanna taint her. She deserves something more gentle and sweet.”

“You’re certainly smitten aren’t you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t wanna fuck her to the brink of tears. Have you heard that cute little giggle? Imagine what her whines sound like. I just wanna watch as you wrap your big hands round her thro-”

“S’that what you want? You wanna make innocent little Y/N our cockslut. Wanna make her our needy puppy. Wonder how many times we could make her come with just our fingers.”

“Fuck Remus I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah that’s right love, cum to the picture of fucking her mercilessly, her nails scratching down your back cause you’re fucking her so hard.”

You watched Sirius shudder while Remus’s face lit up in victory. You decided it was best to leave before they were no longer distracted. 

Well, that certainly didn’t make you any less riled up. Looks like they wanted you as much as you wanted them. You knew you’d have to put your shyness aside, but how on earth do you talk to someone about that. Yes, hello I find you two super hot and I’d just love it if you’d degrade me and throw me around thank you so much. Frankly you never knew you wanted that yourself until you heard the words fall from their lips with ease. You put your plan in motion as you traveled back to your room, praying it would work.

---

You were giddy when you woke up, anxious for the day that awaited you. You decided to wear a shirt that Remus had once complimented, suddenly much more aware of how it complimented your chest. You paired it with your shortest skirt and thigh high socks. You turned around and shoulder checked to appreciate yourself, knowing if you bent over too much anyone could see the white lace thong you had underneath.

You knew the order meeting was starting earlier than usual so you pranced down the stairs and were met with a dumbstruck Ron and Ginny.

“Blimey Y/N, who are you trying to shag?” He was instantly met with a slap by Ginny.

“Shut it Ron, don’t talk about Y/N like that you git. You look adorable.” She reassured.

You smiled sweetly at her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks Gin, I’m gonna go get breakfast now.”

You swear you saw Remus and Sirius give a double take when you entered the kitchen. Pleased your plan was going well you continued into the next phase and sat between Fred and George casually as if your heart wasn’t racing a million miles an hour. Any laugh that the twins could pull from your lips were met with a hard stare from Sirius and Remus. Normally Remus could keep a calm disposition but you could notice the look of contempt in his eyes as his hand clenched the edge of the table. 

 You pushed your chair back and made your way to the sink. 

“Here Molly, let me help you clean up.”

“Thank you dear, you can just grab the dishes from the table love.” 

You made your way round the table and once you reached where your two admirers were you squeezed between them and bent over to grab the last plate, feeling your skirt ride up high enough to gain a sharp intake of breath from Sirius. 

“Sorry, it was just easier to get it this way.” 

You smiled to yourself as you helped Molly finish cleaning. Everything cycled out and everyone rearranged where they sat as they tidied up before the meeting began. You were thrilled at the chance to sit between Remus and Sirius now that everyone had moved. You leaned forward so you could rest your chin on your hand as Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke of the newest updates happening within the ministry. Fred and George would sometimes try to throw you off by making funny faces, but they were met by a hard glare by Remus which instantly simmered them down, while Sirius placed his arm around the back of your chair in a possessive manner. Welp, now was as good a time as ever to test the waters. You leaned back into your chair and crossed one leg over the other so your foot would brush against Sirius’s calf. He passed a glance, and you took a deep breath and moved it up and down his leg. You smirked at how you saw his hands clench and that spurred you on to lightly place your hand on Remus’s thigh.

“Y/N love, what are you doing exactly” Remus’s voice was shaky, like he was holding back.

Time to ice the cake.

“Nothing Remmy, I’m just being innocent little Y/N.”

Sirius’s head swerved at that one and you couldn’t help but notice the growing tent in his trousers.

---

It took forever for everyone to leave after the meeting. It took even longer to convince Molly that you were fine to stay here rather than go back to the burrow.

“Alright Y/N if you’re sure, but you know how to reach me if you need anything at all right?”

“Of course Molly.”

If she knew what you wanted these two men to do to you she would be dragging you by the ear out the door. But finally, finally she left.

Leaving you alone with two straight faced men whose expressions were unreadable. Remus was the first to break the silence. 

“Y/N, did you over hear our conversation last night”

You nodded, but Sirius wasn’t having it.

“Nuh uh, you’re gonna answer out loud for us pretty girl. You don’t get to tease us the way you do then act all shy now.”

“Yes, I heard.”

Remus returned to questioning you. “Yeah, and did you like what you heard?”

“I- I did.”

“Didn’t know you were such a naughty girl” Sirius chortled, “wish I would have known sooner.”

“I’m not naughty!”

“Oh yeah what makes you say that?”

“Cause I wanna be your good girl, please make me your good girl.”

Remus was hypnotised by the puppy dog eyes and pouty lips looking up at him.

“Shhh we’ve got you puppy, we just thought you’d want something more gentle.”

“No Remmy, I want you.”

“You can have me darling, let's go upstairs.”

He offered his hand to you and you took it eagerly, and began your journey upstairs, earning a chuckle from Sirius as you snatched his hand too on the way. As soon as you entered they had their hands on you, Sirius had you pressed against Remus as he was kissing your neck. 

“You sure you want this love?”

“Please Siri.”

“Alright pup, safe word is red okay? Any point you feel uncomfortable you tell us and we’ll stop immediately. Can you say it for me?” 

“Red.”

“Good girl,” Remus praised “Here, let's take all this off since it’s not covering much anyway.”

You nodded and lifted your arms for Remus while Sirius got on his knees to take off your skirt. He debated leaving the socks on, but he wanted you to feel every single thing so he took them off. Now last, but certainly not least. 

“As cute as these panties are, they're only in my way, can I take these off precious?”

“M Hmm.”

Remus was quite content to take off your bra and massage your breasts and nibble across your shoulders while Sirius continued his attempts to draw dirty words from your clean mouth.

“Baby, your pussy is so wet right now. Can I touch it, love?”

You spread your legs further for him as an invitation.

“Not here, our precious girl deserves to be comfy on the bed.” 

Remus sat against the headboard and motioned for you to follow suit between his thighs.

You practically skipped there, so excited for what was about to happen. You sat down with a quick plop and wiggled your hips to get more comfy, eyes wide as Sirius crawled up from the end of the bed to push your legs apart and gently trace your inner thighs with his forefinger.

“Tell me pup, have you ever touched yourself?”

You nodded bashfully, which Remus did not enjoy apparently as he lightly slapped your thigh with one hand while the other grabbed hold of your jaw to force your eyes onto Sirius fully.

“What did we say about speaking out loud pup, be a good girl.”

“Sorry Remmy, I got embarrassed, I do touch myself Siri”

Sirius grinned, “What makes you touch yourself sweet girl.”

“You, you and Moony do.” He relished in the whine that escaped your lips as he finally made contact with your aching clit, clearly he liked that answer.

“What do you imagine us doing to you pup.”

You moaned as his pace quickened. “Anything, anything you want.”

That’s when his tongue made contact on your clit instead. You jolted at the sudden change, but Remus was quick to hold you down.

“That feel good, sweetheart? I love Siri’s tongue too.” 

You could only throw your head back and mewl as Sirius’s tongue flicked faster and he added a finger to the mix, completely enthralled with how your entrance clenched around it desperately.

“Pads I think our pretty girl is gonna cum keep going. Has anyone ever made you feel this good puppy? Fred or George couldn’t make you feel like this could they?”

“No- no Remmy.”

“Wait till I get my turn love, go on and cum so I can make my pretty girl feel good too.”

Even Sirius’s tight grip on your thigh couldn’t keep you tethered as you released on his face. Bliss like you had never known overtook and it’s like you were hyper aware of every touch, every breath of theirs that fanned across your body, and every kiss that Remus awarded you with for being your lovely self.

And you couldn’t get enough of it.

Neither could Sirius as he leaned back to take in the view of the masterpiece he created. He loved how you had squirmed under his touch as he continued to thrust his fingers eagerly. 

He was feeling benevolent though and pulled out. Instead he took a firm grasp on your hair and pulled you on your hands and knees so you were eyelevel with his throbbing cock. 

Remus placed a couple of smacks on your ass now that it was exposed for him.

“What do you say to Pads for making you feel so good?”

Sirius wondered if you were aware how cute you looked with your owlish eyes oggling his long member.

“Thank you, Siri.”

“That’s right Puppy, now how about you return the favor.”

You just nodded obediently and stuck out your tongue, which only made Sirius growl even louder as he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat but found yourself gagging at the surprise feeling of Remus’s head rubbing up and down your slick folds.

You arched your back and whimpered around Sirius’s cock and Remus got the message loud and clear. Slowly he inched his way inside groaning when your wet heat enveloped him completely. Once you were used to the feeling you wiggled your hips as a signal so he could move. The slow powerful thrusts of Remus made Sirius thrust through your perfect lips even faster at how the vibrations you emitted felt around his cock. His grip on your hair got even tighter.

“Fuck you feel so good puppy, such a good girl taking such good care of us. I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face, want me to cum all over your face, sweet girl?”

At the sound of your desperate whining he gave your face a few rough pats and yanked your head back. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you stuck your tongue out waiting patiently while he stroked his dick furiously. Finally he released on your face, but before you got the chance to think he was licking it up with wide stripes across your face before moving to kiss Remus. You glanced over your shoulder at the two most beautiful men you’d ever been blessed to see, and moaned as their teeth clashed in a hungry and needy kiss. They stopped in a pant and had their foreheads pressed together, grinning at your demands.

“Moony I think our good little puppy wants more attention.”

“Aw, is that so my needy angel. I can fix that for you.”

Quicker than you could count he had you flipped on your back and started fucking into you ruthlessly. His movements were filled with so much determination that every thrust was pushing you to the end of the bed until your back was hanging off the edge. He grabbed hold of your legs and swung them both over your shoulders so he could reach even newer sensitive spots inside you, completely captivated by how freely your tits bounced in this position.

“Rem- Remus I’m gonna cum.”

“No you’re not, you be our good girl and hold on a little longer.”

“Please I can’t take it.”

“If you wanna cum you beg for it then, since you can’t wait.”

“Please please, let me be your good girl, please let me cum you make me feel so good please.”

“Hear that Pads? Imagine if someone heard pure little Y/N acting as our desperate puppy. Okay darling you go ahead and make a mess on my cock baby.”

A wave of euphoria rushed over you as you hung there and took every slam that came your way. The bliss however quickly became too much as your legs wriggled to find your escape from his strong grasp. He just grunted and let you slide into a heap on the floor. He swept to the side of the bed and around to where you were and hoisted you back on the bed so you were on your stomach and your legs hung off the edge. He pressed his hand to your back to firmly hold you in place.

“Angel you begged for this, now you’re gonna take it, yeah?”

He returned to his prior animalistic pace that summoned tears to roll down your cheeks. 

Sirius started petting your head lovingly “It’s okay love, you’re being such a good girl for Moony and I. You look so gorgeous with those tears all fucked out.”

He continued to comfort you and press kisses to your hairline until finally Remus reached satisfaction with his brutal attack on your tight hole.

“Fuck, Y/N I’m gonna cum”

He pulled out swiftly and his hips found their way to Sirius’s hungry lips. It was such a beautiful sight, but your voice made and audible whine before you could control yourself.

“What’s wrong sweetheart, thought you wanted me to stop.”

“Wanted your cum, wanted you to cum in me Remmy.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to make that happen precious girl.”

---

Hmmm yeah I’m not sure how I feel about this one, but I hope y’all enjoy my lovelies <3

@thotbutpurple @quindolyn @sunny-bunnny

[soulmate-game]

Not related to the other two Bio!mom Harley AUs that I did. Just... similar. I wrote this instead of sleeping, as per the usual.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I need your help.”

No accent, no threats of violence, no beating around the bush (figurative or otherwise). No fighting or unconscious bodies.

Just Harley Quinn with her hair down, no makeup, and completely serious, in the center of the Bat Cave. Even though her usual exaggerated Brooklynn accent (circa 1950s) had become a pretty inseparable part of her personality over the years, every now and then she forcibly stuffed it down and used her mostly unaccented voice. The one reminiscent of days with less colors on her face, a high bun, and a pristine white lab coat.

Every single one of the Bats and Birds present, fresh from an interrupted patrol thanks to her, could count the number of times they had seen Harley like this on one hand. Bruce would have the most recollections, but everyone else would have plenty of fingers left on said hand. So they all knew, especially when Bruce willingly pulled down his cowl so he could look Harley in the eye, that this was the start of something they were not likely to forget. And maybe their chances of survival were slim too.

“Harley,” Bruce’s voice was still gruff, seeing as he was still mostly Batman at the moment, but his eyes were soft. “Maybe you should tell us what you need help with first. And sit down. You look exhausted.”

Sure enough, there were dark circles under Harley’s eyes. She let Bruce-man lead her over to one of their debriefing tables and sit her down. She let out a huge sigh, her fingers tangling in her loose blond locks.

“I have a confession, and it isn’t gonna leave this cave, capiche?” The slight return of her accent relieved a little of the tension, but not much. Taking this as their cue, the rest of the bats spread out into their usual seats at the table. Bruce stayed near Harley, keeping a hand on her shoulder in silent support. Harley didn’t continue talking until he gave her a solemn nod in agreement. She gulped— an action that immediately returned the tension.

“... fifteen years ago, back when I was still with Joker, I disappeared off the Gotham scene for a few months. I’m sure a few of you remember,” she looked up, and a couple of the older vigilantes nodded. Really, Jason has still been Robin back then. But the memory stuck out in his head now that he was thinking about it.

“Yeah, you were breaking away from him a little bit, which was weird at the time,” Red Hood mused aloud, arms crossed. “I think you helped us out a couple times and did some of your first team ups with Ivy before you vanished. Then a few months go by and you were back in action with Joker, so we mostly ignored it as you just being you.”

Harley nodded. “Ah, my Ivy’s a lifesaver, even back then. She helped cover up the timeline by keeping me in action for longer than I should’a been without putting me at too much risk.”

“Timeline…” Red Robin spoke up, eyes huge even behind his mask. “You don’t mean—“

“Harley,” Bruce breathed, having also caught on. “You were pregnant?”

The air went still. Harley sniffed, eyes watering even as she smiled.

“Oh yeah. Shouldn’t have been possible, ya know? Me ‘n Joker being dumped in that damn acid should have made us both more sterile than an operatin’ room. But I knew I couldn’t raise a kid, so after she was born—“

“You kept her?” Damian interrupted, earning a gentle cuff over the head from Dick. Harley just snorted.

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, I thought about abortion. But the baby didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I was still in love with Joker back then so I was ecstatic that I was able to make something new with part ‘a him in it. Still, I knew a baby didn’t deserve to be raised in Gotham. Especially not my baby, not with my enemies and history. Not with who her father was. I knew he’d never want her, never let me keep her. So I spent the last five months of my pregnancy lookin’ around for the best possible family to take her in. And I found them in Paris, France. A sweet couple, both of them bakers. Sabine, she’s both adorably sweet and super kickass. Comes from a Chinese family that is crazy about teachin’ their women martial arts. But nothing shady about it, I triple checked. Just bonding through kicking people in the face. Which is perfect, I wanted my baby to know how to defend herself. I knew she’d need those skills eventually. And Tom, that’s Sabine’s wife, he’s a gentle giant. Same size as Bane, but as harmless as a puppy and makes the best croissants ever. Seriously, the best.”

“Harley,” Bruce gently prodded, but there was a tiny grin on his face. Seeing her behaving so… so normally, so proud and reminiscent, was a rare treat. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of how far the woman had come. How she had freed herself and become a better person, mostly on her own.

“Right, right. The point,” Harley took a breath, rubbing her forehead. “I came clean to Tom and Sabine, but apparently they knew who I was the whole time. They just didn’t care— did I mention they are perfect? Anyway, once I explained everything, they agreed immediately to adopting my baby. They’d been wanting kids, but it would’a been too risky for Sabine’s health. That’s how I found them anyway, they were in the market to adopt. We named her Marinette. She took Tom and Sabine’s last names, hyphenated. We decided Quinn would be her middle name. And after that, I came back to Gotham and told myself that she was in good hands and I needed to forget about her. Cuz I was no good for her. I knew that. I went back to my old tricks. And then…” Harley chuckled, but it was self-depreciating.

“Then a few years passed, and I started breaking away from Joker for real. Then we broke up, I blew up Ace Chemicals while you guys were outta town doing Justice League and Young Justice shit. I started dating Ivy. And—“ she smiled softly at the table, clearly seeing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Then Ivy convinced me to go see her. Visit my baby, see how she’s been. And I did. Marinette was seven years old, but damn it to hell she was gorgeous. And say whatever you want about me and Joker— most of it will even be true— but neither of us are stupid. And she inherited all of our intelligence. All of it. She got my blue eyes. But she got his hair, which meant Sabine teased me relentlessly about ‘are you sure she isn’t that Wayne’s kid?’ And don’t make that face Bruce, you’d be lucky to have a kid half as beautiful as my Mari-pie. No offense, Damian. Anyway. Anyway, this is the important part. Or part of it.

“She sat there and listened to everything I had to say. Everything. A little seven year old, who could barely understand English at the time, and she listened without interrupting once. She never threw a fit, she wasn’t angry or confused. I told her about the things I’d done in the past— well, G rated versions— and she didn’t care. She called me Momma Harley right away, said she wanted to meet Aunt Ivy sometime soon, and started telling me everything about her that I’d missed. From that day on, she became my sunshine. The light of my life, and I still call her at least once a week every week. When I disappear for a few days out of the city? I’m visiting her—“

“You’re banned from international travel, Harley,” Dick scolded, but he sounded way too amused for it to work. He knew she had her ways, anyway. Nobody could actually stop Harley damn Quinn from doing whatever she wanted.

“—Ugh, she tells me the same thing every time! Disappointed glare and everything. I don’t know how I gave birth to such a goodie goodie, but somehow I did. Not important though! The important thing is, I’m always the first to hear when something new happens in her life. And we had decided that she wouldn’t visit me in Gotham until she was at least eighteen, but apparently she disobeyed me— which I should have expected honestly— and entered you guys’ WE international scholastic competition.”

“Oh no,” Bruce pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The contest winner?” He finally pulled out a chair and sat down. “The winner gets an all-expense paid trip to Gotham for them and their whole class.”

“Exactly!” Harley threw up her hands. “Mari told me last week, and I’ve been trying to talk her out of coming ever since. But she’s inherited both of our stubbornness too, and she isn’t budgin’ a bit. ‘Momma Harley, I wanna see you and Auntie Ivy though!’ And ‘Momma, Gotham’s nothing I can’t handle,’ or my favorite, ‘Maybe you’ll finally get to see me dropkick someone three times my size then, and I’ll prove it.’”

“So that’s what you meant by you need our help,” Tim said as he leaned forward over the table. “Joker just broke out of Arkham yesterday. You want us to protect her.”

“I’d prefer if one of you was with her outside of the mask too, as often as possible,” Harley confirmed. “I can’t stop her from coming here anymore, but I also don’t trust Joker for a second. As soon as he sees her, I’m afraid he’ll make the connection.”

“She looks like him?” Damian asked, scrunching up his nose at the ugly mental image of Joker as a teenage girl. Harley shook her head, solemn.

“She looks like a dark-haired mini-me,” she corrected. “She even keeps her hair in pigtails as her way of showing support for me. And I know Marinette can kick ass, Sabine’s trained her well. But Marinette inherited more than I’d like from me,” Harley ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t notice it until she was thirteen. She got a crush on a classmate, and it was almost like watching videos of me back during the early days of— well, of Harley Quinn. Just without the crime and insanity. She didn’t even realize that she was almost stalking the poor kid until I pointed it out, and luckily I was able to put my doctorate to good use and we nipped that right in the bud ASAP. She never meant it that way, anyway. As soon as I explained things to her, she was horrified and immediately asked me to help her learn how to have a healthy relationship. That was a fun discussion,” Harley grimaced. “But she still gets attached to people really, really easily. Once she grew out of her crush on that boy, she adopted him as her unofficial brother. She already calls Selina “Auntie,” even though I’ve barely mentioned her to Marinette. She gets attached fast, and deeply. And I’m afraid that even after all the warning I’ve done, all the stories I’ve told her—“

“You’re afraid she’ll get attached to Joker just like you did,” Bruce finished for her, closing his eyes. “Because she knows he’s her father.”

“Yes,” Tears were slowly dripping down her face already, her hands curled into fists so tightly that her knuckles were paper white. “You know how he is. If he finds out she’s his biological daughter, he’ll immediately try to take advantage of that. And he’s far too good with his words for people like me and Mari. I’m worried outta my mind. Please. Help keep my baby safe from him.”

“We will,” Jason no longer had his helmet on, or the domino mask that he usually wore underneath it. All of them knew masks were merely formality with Harley nowadays. And he needed to look her directly in the eye so she could see how serious he was. “I can sign up as a bodyguard for the class. It won’t be weird, seeing as they’re tourists and this is Gotham. They also have several rich kids in their group if I remember right.”

Bruce nodded, agreeing with Jason. “That’s a good idea. I can lead the class on their tours of WE personally. That’ll serve the purpose of keeping an eye on her and shutting up the investors that keep begging me to make more public appearances for the sake of the company. Marinette’s name is already released to the news as the winner of the contest, so we can’t keep her out of the spotlight long. Tim, you’ll have to keep an eye on any and all pictures of the class. Try to erase or doctor the images with her in it well enough that connections between her and Harley can’t be easily made. Dick, you and Damian will be in charge of keeping an eye out for any activity from Joker. The slightest hint, and you notify all of us. We’ll decide on a case-by-case basis who is necessary to stick with the class and who goes after the clown.”

“She’s gonna sneak out of her hotel to stay with me and Ivy,” Harley admitted, bringing the (now slightly judgemental) attention back to her. She raised her hands up in surrender. “She didn’t tell me that, and I didn’t approve or suggest it! I just know my baby too well to not realize that that’s her plan. Could ya provide an escort?”

Bruce sighed. “This is gonna be an eventful month.”

[sarasapen]

Among the Blues and Greens

Another installation of the Little One series.

Summary: Meditation often allowed for Jedi to discover and learn about their thoughts and feelings, aiding them in solving their problems. This meditation session unfortunately reveals more than you’d like.

Or the one in which Obi-Wan’s Padawan realises she loves him.

Warnings: Language, meditation, slow dancing, yearning, revelations, forehead kisses, Past Obitine relationship mentions

Word Count: 3k

Star Wars Masterlist

-------

 You were a fraud.

 Whenever you felt particularly emotional, you meditated, as any good Jedi was supposed to do. Before daybreak, the gardens at the Sundari Royal Palace were relatively uninhabited, at least by people. You didn’t mind the plants and animals. Their energies were soothing, incorrupt, they just were. That’s how you find yourself there, for the third day in a row, trying desperately to calm the tempest that’s seen fit to take up permanent residence in your mind.

 Why were you a fraud? A fake? A poser?

 Because here you were, years of training under your belt, pretending to meditate. Fraud.

 It was an old ‘trick’ that young Padawans- very young Padawans, you added- resorted to when they were made to meditate. Sitting there with your eyes closed, trying to keep your breathing even. No actual self-exploration or deep diving into your mind, just putting up a facade that any force insensitive being wouldn’t see through.

 Unfortunately for you, Obi-Wan Kenobi was Force sensitive.

 “You’re pretending,” He muses, lowering himself beside you and crossing his legs, assuming the same position you were in. You keep your eyes closed, forcing your breaths to remain even as if he hadn’t even spoken. He sees right through it, amusement weaving into the deep blues that were his signature.

 Oftentimes you wondered what it was like, to be in the middle of all that was him. Observing one’s signature from the outside was very much different than actually experiencing it. Each individual’s signature was different, and his signature was always so wonderful… You wanted to learn more about it, about him. But you knew you wouldn’t ever dare to be brash enough to even brush your signature against his, let alone delve into him fully.

 His signature morphs, from the vibrant, rich hums to a gentle, soothing wave. He’s meditating.

 You scowl.

 He’s barely been sitting down for a minute, and he’s already accomplished what you’ve been trying to do for the past three days.

 “Focus your thoughts on something,” He suggests quietly, sending out a wash of calm over your prickling irritation. He’s guiding you, as he used to do years ago when you were a young and distractible little thing, and you let him.

 You’d let him do anything.

 You’re swept backwards into the deep abyss that’s your mind, and you fall freely, watching Obi-Wan’s signature withdraw slowly from yours. It’s like watching waves upon the shore, gently sweeping backwards and away, taking with it such tiny, essential parts of you while simultaneously shaping you into a thing to behold. It was always, before anything else, soothing.

 He didn’t like studying others’ energies too closely. It was a common trait amongst blue sabers, whilst reading people's energies were crucial for the Jedi, studying them at great lengths could often prove to be uncomfortable. But yours, he had said. He wouldn’t mind spending days traversing the inside of your mind if you’d let him.

 When you were younger, you’d asked him what your signature looked like to him. He said it was a mass of shades of green that were so beautiful he doubted the mere names of the colours or any other descriptive words would be able to do them any justice.

 Beautiful, was the word he’d always use.

 And he was…gentle, and kind, and smart. You exhale slowly, no longer stiff in your posture. He’s always been so patient with you, even with his occasional sarcastic comment. The perfect Jedi.

 Even as a youngling, you’d hear exaggerated stories from Padawans slightly older than you, or, at least, he insisted they were exaggerated. A few years into your training with him, you began to think that maybe the far-fetched stories weren’t so far-fetched after all.

 You’re so lucky, younglings would say shortly after you had become his Padawan. After all, Master Kenobi’s previous Padawan was the Chosen One. You’d have to be something special to attract his attention.

 And you were lucky. But not for the glory and the awe that sparkled in people’s eyes at the mention of his name. It was for his undivided attention on you, his genuine interest in the things you enjoyed, his efforts to shift your training to aid in what you wanted to specialise in, even if it was wildly different from what he was good at.

 Not that there was much he wasn’t good at.

 You loved the way he carried himself, not with arrogance or pride (both of which you thought would have been deserved), but with a humble sort of almost shyness. You loved that he pushed to do better, to be better, not for himself but for you and Anakin. You loved the way he conducted himself with people, even those considered to be the lowest of the lows, he treated them with so much respect and kindness.

 Perhaps it was just that he was a decent human being, but that didn’t mean you loved him any less.

 You loved the way he’d throw in a sharp remark when facing an adversary, or the way he’d stand tall even in the face of-

 Hold on.

 You loved him.

 You loved him. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

 “What are you thinking about?” Obi-Wan calls from beside you, his voice no louder than a low murmur, and it still makes you flinch. “You’ve grown tense.”

 Play dumb. You could do that. Just… blurt out something random and leave it at that, and then you can-

 “She seems nice.”

 FUCK. Not that fucking dumb oh stars above you were so fucking screwed-

 “She… The Duchess?”

 “Yeah, your Duchess.” Oh kriffing hells, if you could just. stop. talking.

 “Duchess Satine is not my Duchess,” His force signature dips suddenly, as if he’s reeled everything back into himself. It pulls you along with it, and you can no longer pretend that you’re meditating. Not with the way your Master turns to face you, studying your features with a concerned curiosity. You tense up again, keeping your eyes trained on a lone tree, a distance away. There’s a caterpillar crawling on one of the branches, and you focus on that. You can tell that he can tell. He’s always been so good at reading you.

 “You…” He starts, but stops himself, straightening and regarding you once again.

 “Sometimes I find myself having to meditate more than usual. Even up to a few times a day, if I’m…” Obi-Wan’s gaze flickers down from your eyes for just a split second, a movement so quick he doesn’t even realise he’s done it. “Distracted.”

 There’s a stutter in your signature, one you try to hide by slamming up your walls, but the brush of Obi-Wan’s hand against your arm has you faltering. The waves of him approach slowly once again, waiting patiently beside the storm that’s your signature.

 “What’s gotten you so tense?” He probes gently, the weight of his hand against your shoulder mirroring the gentle reassuring taps of his signature against yours.

 “Do you love her?”

 You know what. There’s a ledge. Right there. You could just jump off. If you were dead you wouldn’t be facing this amount of embarrassment.

 “...I used to,” Obi-Wan reveals, and his admission surprises himself more than it does you. Not that he wasn’t aware of what the extent of feelings for Satine used to be, but admitting it, out loud? It was something he had never done before.

 “Used to?”

 “It was a lifetime ago, when I was still a Padawan.”

 It’s strange. Neither of you want to continue talking, to keep delving into dark and murky uncharted territory, between the blurred depths of what’s allowed and what’s forbidden. It scares you. It scares him too. 

 “So… what? You decided to give her up?”

 He should say something about the way of the Jedi, that attachments were forbidden, and that had anyone else known, they would’ve expected him to leave Satine. If it were anyone else asking him this, he would’ve said it, accompanied by a deserved lecture on subtlety and manners.

 But you’re the exception.

 You’d always be his only exception.

 So, instead, Obi-Wan says, “The Duchess, while a remarkable woman, has a very different outlook on life than I do, even back then.”

 There's a stretch of silence that he feels like he needs to fill. “Besides, it gave me the chance to meet people even more remarkable.”

 “Not many people can compare to the Duchess of Mandalore,” You mutter, closing your eyes to block out the sight of him when he gets to his feet.

 “No,” Obi-Wan agrees. “Although the Duchess couldn’t come close to comparing to you.”

 And with that heart-stopping revelation, he leans down and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.

 “Focus,” Obi-Wan whispers in your ear, and then he’s gone.

 Now you really couldn’t concentrate.

——

 “Breathe,” Obi-Wan had instructed you, sitting beside your fidgety body with his own long-since perfected form.

 It was the second week into your Padawan training, and it had taken Obi-Wan twenty three minutes to get you to sit still. Not including the sixteen minutes it took to get you past the normally three minute walk from library to your room, or the seven minutes it took for you to pad over to him and sit beside him. Not for your lack of trying, Obi-Wan mused, watching you fidget once again.

 Your eyes fly open at his words.

 “If I stop breathing during meditation will I die?”

 Yeah, okay, that one was on him. It takes a lot of control for Obi-Wan not to choke on his overwhelming surprise at your words.

 “Meditation can only occur when you stop speaking, little one,” He hints, keeping his posture straight. Thirty two minutes now, he’s been sitting in this position, not meditating, but focused on your wild little signature.

 “Oh, yeah,” You concede, shifting again and screwing your eyes shut.

 Master Kenobi, the whisper-shout in his head very nearly startles him, and Obi-Wan can’t keep pretending his focus is impeccable. He turns to regard you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. If I stop breathing during meditation, will I die?

 Again, to your credit, you weren’t exactly… speaking.

 Perhaps that’s why, with a self-indulgent smile, he sends back a quick no.

 Okay, you accept happily, shifting again in your seat. Your early days were so much like Anakin’s. Both of you, filled with a curiosity and outlook on the world that only children could view, and it baffled him to no end that both of you viewed him in exactly the same way.

 You just accepted everything he said without much thought, readily eager to believe that your Master was always right, because what else could he ever be? It was perhaps that specific period of time during both his Padawans’ training that Obi-Wan was the most stressed. The first few years were the years he felt as though he could disappoint you the most, to fail to protect you and teach you and nurture you.

 He didn’t fail. He didn’t even come close. You’d tell him if you could. Anakin would tell him too. But it just wasn’t a conversation Jedis had.

 And…there.

 You’re not meditating. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to say something, but the words die in his throat when he feels you oh so carefully reach out your signature. He follows along at a distance, careful not to alert you, and he watches as your signature gingerly approaches the plant situated outside your apartment door.

 The plant. You were connecting with the plant.

 You’re calm, he realises. Nearly ridiculously so, if he didn’t know any better he’d think your signature was that of a fully trained knight. The spurts and bursts and branches that were usually your energy flutter gently down, acting obedient and serene.

 It’s… for lack of a better word, beautiful.

 So with your thoughts centered around that little plant outside, all Obi-Wan has to do is give you just a little nudge that blocks out all other distractions for you- maybe it’s cheating, but he wants to see what will happen.

 And then you’re meditating.

——

 “It’s the first time I’ve worn a dress!” Swishing the fabrics of the skirt around you, you’re easily entranced by the movement. It’s a pretty dress, courtesy of the Mandalorian court, floaty and airy with barely there off-the shoulder sleeves. It reveals more of you than Jedi robes would ever, but you’re so enraptured with such innocent curiosity that Obi-Wan doesn’t even try to suppress the affectionate smile he gives you.

 “You look lovely,” He responds honestly, pushing himself off the couch and taking slow steps towards you.

 “I feel like a… like a…” You pause, glancing up from your skirts to fix your eyes on him, mind racing.

 “Like a?” Obi-Wan prompts.

 “Like a cloud!” You settle for, twirling around as if to emphasise your floaty feeling.

 “A cloud?” He confirms, voice laced with amusement. He takes your hand, twirling you around once more through your giggles.

 “Yeah.”

 “Well, you’re the prettiest cloud I’ve ever seen,” Folding his hand over your own, he steps into your space mid-twirl, his other hand coming to press flat against your back. He doesn’t know what propelled him to do this, to press you against him and pull you into little steps around the room. The giggles he gets from you are enough to diminish any second thoughts he gets, so he hums softly, pressing his cheek to the top of your head.

 Your little impromptu dance session is made to end as quickly as it started, a knock on his door reminding the both of you the reason for such fanciful dressing.

 A dinner.

 It was exciting to you, as most off-world mission events were, so different from the usual routine of your life on Coruscant. Your excitement is blindingly obvious, and yet Obi-Wan, who’s long since tired of having to accept invitations lest the Jedi be perceived as discourteous, Obi-Wan says nothing at all. He gives you a warm smile and gestures for you to move towards the door.

 And oh, what a dinner it was. The food was marvelous, the company a little less so, but the moments you’d glance up at your Master to find him already watching you made up for it. If only he weren’t seated so far away… and so close to the Duchess. You don’t turn your head in their direction again.

 Apparently a royal dinner on Mandalore was not just dinner, so after an hour of sitting at a table several seats away from your Master and surrounded by boring politicians, you’re ushered into a ballroom. Several ask for your hand to dance, but you turn them down with a polite smile and even politer excuse. You want to dance, you do. Just… not with them.

 Then you see her.

 She had changed her dress, and she was gorgeous. Elegant and beautiful and carrying herself with such grace even on the dancefloor, she looked every bit the Duchess she was. You sort of hated her.

 “The prettiest, huh?” You mutter bitterly under your breath, taking a moment to try to calm yourself. You take another breath when you turn to face Obi-Wan, expecting his eyes to be on her. Everyone’s eyes were on her.

 He’s looking at you.

 You immediately curse yourself out for the snide comment, hating that you’ve revealed yourself, your insecurities, that he’s going to admonish you for a silly little comment that just slipped out.

 Instead, he holds his hand out towards you, and bends down a little in a bow.

 “If I may have this dance, my dear?” The words come out as a low murmur, and even with the loud applause of everyone around you signalling the end of the Duchess’ dance, you hear him perfectly. Your cheeks are flushed and you’re trying impossibly hard to keep your breathing even as you slide your hand into his, letting him lead you to the middle of the dance floor.

 It’s strange, you think.

 The two of you have been in arguably far closer quarters than you were in now, with a decent amount of space between your bodies, joined only by your hand in his and his other hand on your waist. You’ve trained together, sparred together, been forced into close confines in the middle of missions and on occasion even slept in the same bed together.

 Obi-Wan’s grip on your hand tightens, the tips of his fingers skimming up your back and brushing tantalisingly against the skin that’s uncovered by the dress.

 No, this… this, in front of a whole room of people from all over the galaxy, this was far more intimate than anything ever before. It’s almost as if you’ve been transported back in time just a couple of hours ago, when it was just him and you in the privacy of your quarters.

 “The prettiest,” he confirms, voice low in your ear. Your breath hitches at his statement and all its implications. “It’s not even a competition.”

 Good things, as all things do, must eventually come to an end. Obi-Wan guides a slightly tipsy and very giggly you back towards your room, laughing despite himself when you trip over your own two feet. The last thing he wants after a successful mission is for you to get concussed by falling.

 He bends and effortlessly sweeps you into your arms, letting you swing your legs in the air. It’s not the first time he’s been in this position with you. Perhaps he’s carried you like this a little too often. His thoughts don’t linger on that topic for long.

 You change out of your dress and sit cross-legged in front of him, letting him brush out your hair and pull it back into a braid for you to sleep in, actions so practised that they’re not even spoken about.

 And on the floor of your room, discarded almost carelessly at the end of the bed, lay two weapons beside each other, one green, and one blue.

-----

The next one will be Obi-Wan’s revelation ;)

-----

Obi-Wan taglist:

@allinmymind @ginger-swag-rapunzel @mugoi-usagi @babymango-writes @fluffyhales @whinsical-ash @filthy-thots @altarsw @mando831 @ruleroftides @soft-and-lush @softlikefairydust @bumblegadget @stafskislava @torihester @shedobeclownin @satikryze @buwnni @mando-amando @mrskenobi19 @butch-medusae @fandomtrxshh @a-c-lee @neji85 @reejero @silverpuppi @thereluctantherosrose @shinybananapastanickel @hey-there-angels @grumpymuffinmama @hufflingpuffling-blog1 @kyle9no @qt-ane @arsowon @aesthelliec @lovelyweepingrebel @marvelranger @lovelylostminds 

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

A Failed Betrothal (5)

This is going to be the last part I am going to post in a while. My school is finally starting up again and I am sure to be swamped with homework. Without further ado. Enjoy ❤

[Masterlist]

(Part 1)(Part 4)

-----------

Damian laid in bed, thinking about the recent turn of events. Lady, who told them that they can call her Marinette since they might as well get acquainted while the Waynes were in Paris. She had found out Jason’s identity after a few google searches and by extension, the rest of the Bats while they both were taking a shower. It had taken a few arguments and one sentimonster attack that cut one of the arguments short to trust the Dupain-Chengs with their secret identities. His bride was apparently a superhero too. Has been for a few years. In a different world, he might have actually dated her out of his own free will and fought crime with her together.

Damian shook his head at that thought.

That was the curse talking. Get a hold of yourself, Wayne. Resist. Don’t think about Marinette and her blue eyes.

Back to the akumas, Paris had been under the control of a magical terrorist for years. Lady Noire, formerly known as Ladybug, formed a team to battle against him. He also found out about the Guardian who chose Marinette and someone else, who wasn’t spoken about much except that his name was Chat Noir and she now wields his ring temporarily, to fight against Hawkmoth as partners. The same Guardian that promised her hand-in-marriage in exchange for protection from the League of Assassins. Sabine, the Blue Reaper, had to be restrained from killing the old amnesiatic man by her bear of a husband who was reluctant to do so and also wanted to help her.

Hawkmoth also had a partner who went by the name, Mayura, with a power similar to his and could create sentimonster out of negative emotions. Their top suspect was Gabriel Agreste, with much evidence pointing his way but they had difficulty trying to confirm it and had the time to gather evidence to do it. The local authorities were helpful but getting a search warrant for a famous, rich designer who was a known recluse with circumstantial evidence is not possible.

After informing their father of their kidnapping and the situation in Paris (and racking up the Dupain-Cheng's phone bill), they were told to stay there and help as much as they can. Tim, who was coming to Paris for a vacation (suspicious), got his plans hijacked and was now going to help uncover Hawkmoth’s identity.

When the Justice League had reached out a few years ago, they were rebuffed by the Mayor. Nightrunner got into contact with the one of the heroes, Ladybug who asked for a meeting outside of Paris with Wonder Woman and Batman came along, to assess her. They didn’t expect a young girl to be Paris’s heroine.

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

3 years ago…

“Bonjour, Princess Diana of Themyscira, daughter of Hippolayta, it is an honour to meet you. And you too, Batman.” The spotted heroine greeted both of them with Nightrunner besides her. Their meeting point was in the gardens in the Palace of Versailles.

“The pleasure is all mine, Ladybug. But I am confused as to why you have refused the Justice League’s help.” Wonder Woman was worried that the Ladybug Miraculous was active again and for many good reasons.

“I would be glad for some help but Paris is run by an incompetent fool. He wants no one outside of Paris to think that the city is unsafe due to Hawkmoth and keep the tourism numbers high. The other reason is that my Miraculous Cure can restore any physical damages done during a fight and involving you might result in more damages than I could cure. But I also think it would be better if there were less powerful heroes in Paris, akumas amplifies one’s power and I don’t want to fight you after you had a bad day.” Ladybug explained. Nightrunner murmured in agreement.

“Do you know how Hawkmoth operates?” asked Batman. He had read reports of the situation but wondered the true extent of it.

“Have Wonder Woman explained to you about the Miraculous?”

He nodded.

“Hawkmoth has the butterfly miraculous, and it has the power of transmission. In the right hands, they would be used to grant ordinary people powers as the user’s champions. But in the hands of Hawkmoth, he targets people with high negative emotions, a girl after a bad break-up or a student with a failed grade. He grants them powers to use for revenge or some obscure version of justice. In return, he asks for mine and Chat Noir’s miraculous. With our two miraculous, he can make a wish but wishes always come with a price so it is best if we keep it out of his reach.”

“How have you not captured him yet?”

“Hawkmoth is a coward who rarely comes out to face us. I have never met him face-to-face. He uses people to get what he wants. Not very honourable. The Mayor has refused to help my attempts to stop him or prevent more akumas because his bratty daughter isn’t given a Miraculous to be a hero. I don’t have the time or resources because I am still in school and have other obligations outside the suit. I can’t tell my family and ask for help because the Guardian’s ,the one who gave me the Miraculous in the first place, secret identities rule and some magic thing that makes me unable to tell them.”

The adults were all horrified at what the girl was going through.

“We could help in other ways. Not fight the akumas but provide you the resources to track down and capture him. Do you have any training? From the footage we have seen, you know martial arts and how to use some weapons.”

“I was raised in a forgotten temple somewhere in Asia with brutal training everyday before I ran away. I met someone on my way out who took me in and adopted me.” She said it seriously enough that they have no room for doubt.

“Batman, she just said she was adopted. She may have the features but the answer is no.” Wonder Woman said with a knowing look in her eyes.

“I wasn’t thinking about it. She has a duty to Paris right now and I am not going to take away from her life here. I don’t adopt every black-haired and blue-eyed child I see.” Batman denied.

“I am confused.” Ladybug said, tilting her head.

“Batman here has a bad habit of adopting kids with a tragic past, especially kids with black hair and blue eyes.” Nightrunner explained to his fellow Parisian hero.

“Well, Mousier, you will have to fight my parents for custody. While I have training, Chat Noir doesn’t and he hinders the battles with his ‘help’. I would give him some but he sees them as dates even though I have told him it’s not.”

“His incompetence is a liability. Why is he your partner?”

“The Guardian chose him too like he chose me through some stupid trial I somehow passed the requirements for. I am just hoping that there is a really good reason for choosing Chat Noir. I have some questions on how you are-”

“Ladybug, what are you doing?” A sharp voice cut in. An old man who appeared to be dressed as a tortoise landed in front of them.

“Master Fu, this is Princess Diana of Themyscira and the world’s greatest detective, Batman. I am asking for their help in finding Hawkmoth.” Ladybug explained, confused why Master Fu looked upset.

“Ladybug, that was extremely foolish of you. This is a matter of the Order. You shouldn’t have involved other heroes in it. We can resolve this on our own. I apologize on behalf of her for wasting your time.”

“But, Master-” “We will talk about this later, Ladybug. You are young and don’t understand things yet.”

“Guardian, with all due respect, my mother was a Ladybug wielder herself and the Amazons will lend a hand to any miraculous holders in need.”

“It is appreciated but Ladybug, Chat Noir and I can do it on our own. Come along, Ladybug.”

“Let me at least apologize for my mistake, Guardian.”

“Very well. Meet me later.”

“I am sorry but it looks like I have to fight Hawkmoth without your help. That being said please don’t try to look further into Hawkmoth’s identity and leave any notes of your leads in the mouth of the gargoyle on the northside of Notre Dame where I usually rest after I finish patrol. Salut, Princess Diana, Batman, Nightrunner.” She left using her yo-yo to swing away after giving them a wink.

Batman smirked. He had to give it to Ladybug, she was clever and resourceful and Diana was right, he wanted to adopt her.

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

Present time…

(Words in bold are French)

Now that the previous Guardian was out of the picture, the Miraculous team would gladly accept any help they can get.

Damian and Jason had picked up Tim from the airport and they had already set things up in one of the Wayne penthouses in Paris. Less chance of nosy maids than in a hotel.

Bilal had already handed over all the evidence he could find. He was also one of the Miraculous team’s trainers when Sabine couldn’t make it. Jason and Damian were going to help in training and be back-up heroes when needed. (Bilal wore a miraculous once to help out. And that one time was weird enough to last him a lifetime and he was never doing it again.)

Sadly, all the magic users who were allies or part of the JL were busy with other missions or MIA so they couldn’t break Damian’s curse yet. Bruce didn’t see the problem with the curse so unless it causes major problems or someone is free to break it. They couldn’t go back to Gotham until they got the necessary things in order so it looks like they were going to be in Paris for a while.

The next morning, Tim was nowhere to be found. Because they were paranoid Batboys, they tracked his phone to see him at the Dupain-Cheng’s bakery with Marinette and a group of other people, having breakfast.

“There you are, Replacement.” Jason shouted as he entered the bakery, “So, this is where you were? I see you have already figured out who Ladybug is and met her.”

Marinette looked at Damian and Jason, then at Tim and back at them again.

Oh.

Oh.

She face-palmed as she connected the dots and realized what the nagging feeling she had around Tim was about.

“Oh my Kwamis, you are Tim Drake, adopted by Bruce Wayne aka Batman. Jason and Damian are your brothers. And judging by your build, you are Red Robin. I feel so stupid.”

Thankfully, there were no customers around yet to hear some of the world’s most important secrets being out.

“I am- We are not- Bruce isn’t- How?! How the hell did you find out? And you are Ladybug?!” Tim was floundering at Marinette’s words and the caffeine from his first coffee of the day hadn’t kicked in yet. He looked at her friends, who were looking at the Wayne boys with shocked expressions….and looked similar to the rest of the Miraculous Team.

The caffeine finally kicked in.

“Oh my God. I was talking to the entire Miraculous Team and I didn’t know it. That means Chloe Bourgeois is a hero. That bratty blonde I met as a child is a hero.”

“Speak for yourself, Timothy, my childhood friend is a hero too. I can’t believe we are all heroes.” Chloe said in total disbelief.

Introductions and alter egos were exchanged.

Nearly everything went swimmingly if it weren’t for Chloe jokingly elbowed Marinette and said, “You get to date a hero too. No need to worry about flaking out on dates.”

“What do you mean dates? Dupain-Cheng and I aren’t dating.” Damian said, “My mother wanted us to marry each other, not date.”

“Mari, looks like you need some explaining to do.”

Marinette gave the short story on how she met Damian and Jason.

“So you guys are absolutely not dating? Cool. Tim, are you still open to being Mari-bug's fake boyfriend?” Chloe asked. Tim looked at her incredulously.

“You called me all the way here to fake-date your friend. Why? Not that I am complaining about her or anything.” “There is this boy in our class, Adrien Agreste and he has a little obsession with Marinette.” Chloe explained. “Romantic Soulmates.” Nathaniel chimed in, doing air-quotes.

“So I volunteered on your behalf to be my best friend’s long-distance boyfriend in America who has video-call dates with her once a week. You are going to have little romantic dates coincidently where our classmates are going to be, especially Adrien. It might put him off from pursuing Marinette for a while. After you leave, we are just to mention you every now and then to prevent him from getting any ideas.”

Damian felt a hot, burning sensation in his chest and clenched his jaw at the thought of Marin- Dupain-Cheng holding hands, cuddling and doing all those romantic actions with Drake of all people. (No, he wasn’t jealous. Not at all. Don’t be stupid. )

“Tch, Drake is going to be busy trying to find Hawkmoth. He can’t go around Paris, being Dupain-Cheng’s boyfriend. Besides, he can’t be a proper boyfriend even in his most lucid moments. I will be her boyfriend instead.”

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

Tag list: @alysrose-starchild, @buginetye, @lookatthestars1, @blackroserelina, @macncheesemonster, @mochinek0, @myazael, @tonicxworld, @thewitchwhowaited, @t1dwarrior-of-earth, @kissa-chan, @iwantasecretidentity, @theymakeupfairies, @user00000003, @woe-is-me0, @kashlyn, @mochegato,@moonlightstar64 , @greatcatblaze, @moongoddesskiana, @tazanna-blythe. @tonicxworld, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @frieddonutsweets, @local-witch-of-mn, @lady-bee-fechin, @iglowinggemma28, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @k-tea-and-coffee, @jayjayspixiepop, @all-mights-asscheeks, @idk-j-go-with-it , @loysydark, @thenillabean, @lolieg, @zalladane, @silvergold-swirl, @henie04, @blueblossombliss, @khneltea, @mochegato, @itsmeevie01, @roguishredaxion, @alyssadeliv, @steph-hearthlight, @adrestar, @eliza-bich, @abrx2002, @hikari55ttva, @doglover82, @daminette5074

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(PART 6)

[sequinsmile-x]

Tomorrow

They could have had forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough. 

The final story in the Whatever Tomorrow Brings universe.

-x-

I've felt oddly emotional about this all day, all week really. Whatever Tomorrow Brings was the first story of mine that really started to pick up readers, and whilst I will miss this universe - it feels like the right time to say goodbye. I'll still be here, writing about our favourite idiots in love, just not this version of them.

I want to say thank you to all of you! To anyone who reblogged, liked or left kudos on any part of this universe. Thank you to the silent readers, those who come back time and time again. Thank you for loving my original characters so much - Theo, and especially Amelia, became so much more because of how all of you reacted to them.

This version of them, and their family, will always be important to me, and knowing they meant something to you too means more than I can ever say.

So this is it, the end of WTB. I hope you think I've done their story justice, and that when you revisit them in the future you still enjoy their highs and lows with them.

I love you all!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: Major character death, grief, illness

Read over on A03, or below the cut.

June 2037

They hadn’t had enough time.

It’s all she can think as she stands in the home office they once shared, her eyes fixed on Aaron’s desk. 

Vascular Dementia. Two words that permeated everything in their lives for almost three years, a diagnosis that rocked their whole family, and shook them to the very core. 

Emily noticed it first. How her husband seemed to suddenly be more forgetful, easily confused in a way he never had been before. When she looks back on it she realises it had been slowly getting worse for a while, signs she had missed before it became obvious. Memories of what it was like when her mother was sick haunting her. At first, they’d assumed it was the same thing, a cruel twist of fate that took her mother and her husband from her with the same disease. She could still feel the pit in her stomach, heavy and dense, when she remembered the diagnosis, the cause the doctors assumed laid behind it. 

It was George Foyet’s last laugh. His actions still impacting their family decades after he had briefly taken Aaron from them, only to permanently do it now. The injuries he had sustained had slowly put stress on his heart throughout the years, leading to this. 

Aaron had been the one who had to calm her down once they got home from that appointment, initially letting her rant and rave, cursing a man long since dead, until she started to cry. Then he’d hugged her, held her in the embrace that had been her solace for most of her life and comforted her, like he wasn’t the one who hadn’t just been told he was dying. 

“Mom?”

She turns from where she is standing, her chest tight as she turns to face her children, all three of them just inside the door, pulled shut behind them to give them some privacy. It’s why she’d sought solace here, to begin with, strangers in their home setting it up for the wake. It was setting her on edge, her nerves already raw. 

Jack is standing with his hands in his pockets, his lips set in a firm line, a clear attempt to hold his emotions back. It makes him look so much like Aaron that her eyes sting, the seemingly endless tears making their presence known. The sight of him in a black suit sending her right back to the last time he’d buried a parent. He’d been so young then, the life he had known dead and gone with his mother. 

Theo and Amelia are bunched together, the latter with her arms wrapped tightly around her brother’s bicep, holding him close, her head against his shoulder, tears on her face that she doesn’t even try to hide. 

“The cars are here.” Theo says, his voice shaking slightly, attempting to smile at her, “we’re ready to go when you are.” 

Emily nods and throws one look back towards Aaron’s desk, left exactly as it had been when he’d last used it, and she blows out a breath as she turns to her children. 

“Let’s go, best get today over with.” She says as she steps towards them. 

Amelia breaks free from her brothers and closes the gap between her and Emily, hugging her mother as she did when she was a little girl. Seeking her comfort like she was a child, not the grown woman she now was. Emily holds her just as tightly, rubbing her hand up and down her daughter's back as she cries.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she says, encouraging Amelia to walk with her, her arm around her waist, “you know how your dad felt about tardiness.” 

They all chuckle, humourless and sad but it’s something. She guides her daughter towards the front of the house, her sons walking just behind them, and she is grateful Aaron gave her them. The family they worked so hard for. 

They could have had forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough. 

__

April 2035

“You want to do what?” She asks, venom in her voice as she stares at him, her mouth hanging open from where she sits next to him on their couch. He looks so calm it makes her even more irritated, like he hadn’t just dropped life changing news on her. He doesn’t bite, doesn’t react. He’d always been frustratingly patient with her. 

“I want to sign a DNR.” He repeats, placing his hand on her knee and squeezing the joint, his fingers attempting to press comfort into her. “I think it’s the right thing to do.” 

“The right thing to…” she blows out a breath incredulously, and she shakes her head, “how is signing something that means the doctors just let you die the right thing to do?” 

All she can think about is what they were told 6 months ago, his increased risk of heart attacks and stroke. How to look for the signs. She’d barely let him leave her sight, worried she’d come home to find him laying on the ground. Images of what had been key themes in her nightmares over the years, flashes of a blood stain on a floor in their old house, becoming a very real possibility. 

“Em,-”

“No,” she says, cutting him off. She stands up, his hand slipping from her knee, and she starts to pace the floor. 

He stands too, still calm, and It infuriates her. Makes grief settle in her lungs as she becomes hyper-aware that she could lose him at any moment. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, his hands on her shoulders as he stops her, making her look at him, “it’s only going to get worse, the doctor said we should think about it.” He wipes a tear away from her cheek that she doesn’t even realise has fallen. “I need you on board with this.”

She’s heard what he hasn’t said. He legally can’t make this decision for himself anymore. She was his medical proxy, and power of attorney had been handed over after his diagnosis. He’d already got worse, she knew that. Confused and frustrated more than he wasn’t, and she hated that they were using some of his increasingly infrequent lucid days to talk about this. 

“Aaron,” she breathes out, “how am I supposed to sign something that says I don’t want them to resuscitate you if something happens?” She doesn’t try and cover her upset, her tears freely falling, there had never been any point in doing so around him anyway. “How are you so ok with this?” 

He pulls her into a hug, his hand in her hair, holding her almost impossibly close.

“I have no other choice.”

She isn’t sure how long they stand there before she swallows thickly, the words bitter in her mouth.

“Ok, I understand.” She says, and he kisses the top of her head, and squeezes her tightly. “I’m going to miss you when you…so you’d better live for as long as possible,” she’s still crying, her words losing the humorous edge she was going for, she pulls back to look at him and sees tears in his eyes too, “Ok?”

He nods. “Ok,” he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, “I’ll miss you too.” 

The next day he asks her where Haley is, and she has to excuse herself for a moment to pull herself together.

___

September 2008

Emily groans as she wakes up, unaware that she had fallen asleep in the first place. The first thing she is aware of, apart from the fact she’s on the couch, is the ever present nausea that rolled through her entire body. 

She places her hand over her stomach, pressing into the still flat surface. She’d only been released from the hospital the day before, and Aaron and the boys were taking the doctor’s instructions to make sure she rested very seriously. She smiles as she realises someone, Aaron, had laid a blanket over her. She looks down and sees Archie cuddled up in her arms, and it makes her eyes water, forever at the mercy of her hormones, at the thought of Theo placing the orange cat there with her before Aaron ushered him out of the room. 

She sits up slowly, blowing out a breath as she does, a pointless attempt to settle her stomach. She gives herself a moment before she stands, ensuring she has Archie with her, before she makes her way upstairs. 

It was late enough to know everyone else would be up there, and Aaron would have inevitably come to wake her up, to encourage her into their bed, once the boys were asleep. She sneaks into Theo’s room on the way past, smiling as she places Archie in bed with him, kissing her son’s forehead before she slips back out. 

She’s about to check on Jack when she hears him and Aaron in her bedroom, their hushed conversation travelling out through the gap in the door. Her curiosity spurs her on as much as her exhaustion does, and she steps into the room, spotting them in the ensuite. 

“What are you two up to?” She asks, her smile widening as they both turn to look at her, shaving foam on both of their faces, clean skin showing through the patches they had already dragged the razor across. 

“Dad’s teaching me how to shave,” Jack says, a shy smile on his face. 

Emily exchanges a look with her husband and is proud of herself for not smiling. Jack, in no way, had enough facial hair to justify shaving, just the first hint of it on his upper lip, the odd hair on his chin. 

“Well, have fun,” she says, “I’m going to get into bed.” 

“Do you need anything sweetheart?” Aaron asks, already setting the razor in his hand down, ready to do whatever she requested. 

“I’m ok,” she replies before looking back at Jack, “see you in the morning, honey.” 

“Night, Emily.” 

She climbs into bed, pulling the covers tightly around her as she tries to curl into a ball, another attempt to settle the constant twisting in her stomach. She dozes, the quiet sound of Jack and Aaron talking in the bathroom turning into white noise, and she’s unsure how much time has passed when she feels Aaron climb into bed with her, gentle as he pulls her back into him, his palm covering her belly.

“Are you ok?” He asks, kissing the back of her head, his thumb stroking at her belly button. 

“I feel like shit,” she replies honestly, a slight whine to her voice, “but no more than usual.” 

“I can go get one of your pills if you want,” he says, already pulling away, but she stops him, her hand over his on her stomach.

“No, I don’t need it,” she says, turning her head enough just to look at him, her lips pressing into his, “this helps.” 

He looks at her as if he doesn’t believe her, but settles back down behind her anyway, his body moulding into hers, the space they had made for each other years ago. 

“That was sweet,” she says, linking their fingers together on her abdomen, “Jack asking you to teach him how to shave.”

Aaron hums. “He was so shy about it,” he says, smiling into the back of her head, “Did I ever tell you that I taught Sean?” 

She squeezes his hand a little tighter, any mention of his little brother always prone to make him sad, their relationship so fractured she wondered if it would ever be fixed.

“No, you didn’t,” she says, raising their hands to kiss his knuckles, “although, it makes sense, your dad wasn’t around.” She turns, the movement making her stomach roll, so she can face him properly, her forehead against his. “You’re a fantastic father, you know that?”

He smiles at the praise, his dimples on display. “And you’re an excellent mother.” 

She chokes out a laugh, although it sounds close to a sob, her hormones driving her crazy.

“Our kids are so lucky to have us,” she quips, her hand running through his hair. 

“They are,” he replies, pressing his lips to hers, “but you can be the one to have the sex talk with them.” 

She laughs, properly this time, and she nods at him. “Fine, but you have to teach them how to drive.” 

___

June 2037

She’s sitting on the couch, the tv on a mindless channel, when the front door opens, the sound of the key in the lock seemingly echoing throughout the house. 

It’s muscle memory, a pavlovian response to years, decades, of Aaron walking in, his familiar footsteps against the hardwood floor, that has her momentarily forgetting. 

“Mom, it’s just me,” Jack calls through the house, and she berates herself for the stab of disappointment she feels. 

It wasn’t Aaron, it never could be again. 

“I’m in the living room.” She calls back, hopeful that she had kept her voice even. 

She knew her children well enough to know they’d discussed keeping an eye on her. It would have been Amelia’s idea initially, she knew that. Her daughter was still staying with her, sleeping in her childhood bedroom as if she didn’t have an apartment just 30 minutes away with her partner. She wasn’t here right now, and Emily knew it wasn’t coincidence that Jack was here when the house was otherwise empty.

“Is Mills still staying here?” Jack asks as he walks into the room, making a show of looking around for signs of his sister as he sits next to Emily, joining her on the couch.

“Yeah,” Emily replies, smiling, “She went home to get some fresh clothes, make sure Jamie has watered the plants correctly.”

Jack raises his eyebrow, “There’s a wrong way to do that?” 

Emily laughs, the sound foreign to her ears, “Apparently.” 

They fall back into the silence that had fallen over the house in recent weeks, laying over them like a thick blanket. Cloying and suffocating. 

“How are you doing, Mom?” Jack asks, his voice soft, kind. A mixture of the three people who had raised him. 

“I’m ok,” she replies automatically, a tight smile on her face.

Jack sighs. “Mom, you don’t have to do that. Not with me.” 

She frowns, her eyebrows creasing together. “Do what?” 

“Pretend everything is ok,” he says, “We’ve never lied to each other.” 

Suddenly it’s like she’s watching his life play out in front of her. Like he’s every version of himself that she has known all at once. The terrified kid on the brink of losing his mother, the angry teenager once again torn away from the life he knew. The grown man, the father, she had sitting in front of her. 

The years had gone by so quickly. 

“No,” she replies, “We haven’t.” She looks down at her lap and plays with her wedding rings. She has Aaron’s on a chain around her neck now, sitting close to her heart. “I’m just…really fucking angry,” she says, looking back up at her eldest, her eyes welling up as she admits it out loud for the first time, “so angry that he’s gone.”

“I am too,” Jack admits, shaking his head. “It seems so unfair.”

“I hate him for leaving me behind,” she says, her voice shaking, “and I hate that I hate him. Because I’ve loved him for most of my life.” 

Jack hugs her then, closes the small gap between them and puts his arms around her. She returns it gratefully, feeling a sense of relief for getting just a small part of what she was feeling off of her chest. 

“He asked me to look after you, you know,” Jack says as he pulls back, a sad smile on his face. Emily tilts her head at him slightly, her eyebrows creased. 

“He did? When?”

Jack chuckles dryly. “The last time I went to see him and he was lucid,” he shakes his head at the memory, “Sara stepped out with the kids, they were restless, and he said I needed to look after you. That you’d be so busy looking after everyone else you’d forget to do it yourself.” 

She huffs out a laugh and wipes a tear from her cheek. It felt absurd. That he’d been dying, waiting for the end, and he’d been worried about her. 

“That ridiculous man.” She says, another laugh choking on a sob, the sound dying in her throat. “Fuck, I miss him so much already.” 

Jack nods his head. “Me too.”

___

November 2013

Emily smiles as she hears her husband's footsteps heading towards the kitchen, home late from meetings that she knew he’d rather have skipped. She looks to Amelia, the little girl happily sitting on her mother’s hip, and smiles, bouncing her slightly as Aaron comes into view.

“Look, sweet girl, Daddy’s home!” 

“Daddy!” Amelia squeals, her hands already reaching out for him. He walks over and takes the little girl into his arms, kissing his wife quickly as he does so. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, kissing Emily again.

“Hi,” she smiles at him, “how was work?”

“Long,” he replies, adjusting Amelia so she was comfortable in his embrace, her tiny hands playing with his tie, “I’ve got to tell you something, and you’ve got to promise to stay calm.”

She freezes, her eyes fixed on him as her throat feels tight. “What?”

“I got called by Theo’s school earlier.” 

She frowns, confusion spreading through her veins. She’d seen Aaron since school would have ended, Theo was up in his room reading, acting like it was a normal day. 

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” She asks, her words tripping over each other, fierce protectiveness and worry that only their children could bring out in her rising fast.

“They have some concerns because he hasn’t been eating lunch, and today they saw him giving his lunch money to another kid.” 

She leans against the kitchen counter. “Is this kid bullying him?” 

Pre-emptive anger fills her lungs, ready to go shout at whatever child was involved, and she glares at Aaron when he has the audacity to smile at her for a second, her reaction clearly predictable to him.

“They asked him that and he refused to tell them, they asked if we would speak to him.” 

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He’s been making such good progress, Aaron, I don’t want him to go through this again-”

“Baby,” he says, placing a hand on her waist, “let’s not jump to conclusions, we’ll talk to him after dinner, ok?” 

She nods in response, fighting against every instinct to run up the stairs and ask her son what was going on. 

During dinner, Aaron has to place a hand on her leg, squeezing the muscle tightly as she watches Theo eat. She notices the speed at which he does so, and she chastises herself for not noticing it before. 

Once Amelia is in bed, they call him into the living room, a nervous look on his face as he settles on the couch opposite his parents. 

“Am I in trouble?” He asks, concern painting his features. 

“No, sweetie you’re not in trouble,” Emily says, smiling at him in a way she hoped was reassuring, “we just need to talk to you.” 

“School called me today,” Aaron adds, and Theo’s eyes widen, his nose scrunching up slightly, “they told me what happened with your lunch money.”

“It’s fine,” he says, slightly defensively, “I told them it’s fine.” 

“Theo, we’re just worried that’s all, you should have told us if someone is making you give them your lunch money,” Emily replies, her hands in her lap as she plays with her rings. 

“He’s not making me,” Theo says, sighing after he does, clearly not intending to reveal what he had. 

“Ok,” Aaron says, exchanging a quick look with his wife, “what’s going on then?” 

Theo stares at them for a second, before looking at the floor. “His name is Adam, his mom can’t afford to give him money for lunch, and she works nights so can’t make it for him,” he shrugs, still avoiding eye contact, “so I give him mine every other day.” He flicks his eyes back up to them, before looking back down, “I tried to give it to him every day but he wouldn’t take it.” 

It shocks them into silence for a moment, and Emily looks at her husband before she stands, walking over to her son and crouching in front of him, ignoring the protest in her knees as she does so. She hooks a finger under Theo’s chin and makes him look at her. 

“Theo, that’s incredibly sweet,” she says, making sure her voice doesn’t portray the emotion she’s feeling, “and I’m very proud of you for being so kind, but you have to tell us, or a teacher, if you find something like that out. It’s not up to you to fix that.” 

He looks past her to Aaron, and without turning around she knows her husband has nodded in agreement with what she has said, before Theo looks back at her. 

“Ok.” Theo agrees, nodding. “Can I go play my game now?” 

Emily huffs out a laugh. “Of course.”

Theo stands up and hugs her, running over to do the same with Aaron, before he’s out of the room. Emily stands up straight, groaning as her knees ache. Aaron is next to her before she stands completely, his arms wrapping around her from behind.

“How the hell did we make the world's sweetest kid?” She asks, leaning into her husband as he kisses her temple. She turns in his arms and bands her arms around his back, mentally planning the call she’d make to the school in the morning. 

“I have no idea,” Aaron says against her skin, “we’re sending him to school with double the lunch money tomorrow, right?” 

“Damn straight we are.” 

___

June 2037

Theo calls her before he comes to the house, as conscientious as he had ever been. She hugs him tightly the second he walks in the door, the first joy she had felt in weeks thrumming through her veins.

“Congratulations, honey. I’m so happy for you.” She says as she pulls back, smiling at her son, hers only widening as he smiles back.

“Thanks, Mom. We’re so relieved it’s finally happened.” 

She looks past him onto the porch and sees he’s alone, frowning when she looks back at him. 

“Where are they then?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at him, “I want to hug my son-in-law and my granddaughter.” 

Theo, and his husband Sam, had been fostering a little girl called Florence for years, since she was only a few months old. They’d found out that morning that they were finally getting an adoption hearing, that their daughter would finally be fully and legally theirs. 

“Flo insisted on going to the park,” Theo says as he rolls his eyes at the little girl's behaviour, “I dropped them off on the way here.” 

Emily hums in her throat as she walks towards the kitchen, Theo following suit, “Tell her Nanna remembers everything, and I’ll keep this in mind next time she tries to scam cookies out of me.” 

“You’re a soft touch and you know it,” he says, taking the coffee pot from her hands and proceeding to make it for her, “you’d give any of the kids whatever they asked for.” 

She can’t argue with that, it was something Aaron had said multiple times since Jack’s first child had been born. However protective of their children she had been, it was increased tenfold for their grandchildren. She’s suddenly reminded of something, and she smiles at her son.

“Oh, I was in the attic going through some of your dad’s things, and I found something for you.”

She’s already walking towards the dining room where she’d been keeping some things, the self-imposed job keeping her busy, when she hears Theo call after her.

“Mom,” he sighs, “what have I told you about going up there, we’ll do it for you.”

Emily rolls her eyes at his over-protectiveness, making sure she’s back in the room so he can see, 

“Honey, it’s fine,” she says, her hands behind her back, the item she wanted to give him hidden from view, “you ready?” 

“Ready.” He says, smiling indulgently at her. She raises an eyebrow and he sighs at her, closing his eyes and putting his hands out. 

Emily carefully places the worn stuffed animal in his hands, the orange fur faded through years of love, and age. She knows Theo knows what it is immediately, his smile widening as his eyes open, settling on his oldest friend. He chuckles and holds the toy a little tighter.

“Hi Archie,” he says, shaking his head, “it’s been a while.” 

“He was up there in a box of your old things,” Emily explains, “I thought you could give him to Flo.”

“Thanks, Mom, I love that idea.” He says, briefly looking up at her before he looks back down at the orange cat, “Do you remember when Dad and Jack drove to get him after we left him behind in that god awful apartment?” 

“Yeah,” she replies, the memory of it seizing up her chest, “I do.”

Theo looks up at her, his dark eyes shining. “I wish he was here, that I could tell him about the adoption too.” 

“Oh, honey,” she says, closing the gap between them and putting her hand on his arm, “He loved her so much, she was part of this family the second you brought her here for the first time,” she smiles sadly at him, her throat tight, “another Hotchner girl who had him wrapped around her finger.” 

Theo laughs through his tears and nods, “You’re right.” He clears his throat and tries to smile at her, “Will you come to the hearing? We’d love to have you there.” 

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

___

February 2025

Emily can’t help but wince as she hears the brakes on the car squeal as it pulls into the driveway. 

It was Amelia’s 16th birthday and, as promised, Aaron was taking her on her first driving lesson. He’d taught both of the boys. There had been a few tense moments that had led to crossed words, but overall it had gone smoothly, both Theo and Jack passing the first time. 

She knew that Aaron was worried about teaching Amelia. Their youngest was the one who pushed back the most, the one who attempted to break boundaries. 

Amelia and Aaron had always been close, the blip in their relationship when she didn’t recognise him after they had gone into hiding mostly a distant memory. Things were changing now she was a teenager, the usual distance put between child and parent that always hurt, but she knew this was different for Aaron. It reminded him too much of when their daughter, only a baby at the time, shied away from him and acted as if he was a stranger.

Emily schools her features as the door opens, Amelia bursting in, excitement flowing off of her.

“That was so cool,” she exclaims, slumping down onto the couch next to her mother, “I love driving.” 

Emily laughs at her daughter’s enthusiasm, “You had fun then?”

“Oh, so much fun!” She replies, “I’m going to go FaceTime my friends, what time is dinner?” She asks, already standing up, her phone in her hand.

“We’re meeting your brothers at 7 pm, so we’ll leave here at 6.30.” Emily answers.

“Oh, maybe I could drive to the restaurant?” 

Emily finally looks at her husband and has to stop herself from laughing at the way his eyes widen.

“I think we’ll let your dad drive, honey.”

Amelia is already mostly out of the room, agreeing with just a noise as she disappears. It’s only when her bedroom door upstairs closes that Aaron slips onto the couch next to Emily, his head leaning back. 

“That bad, huh?” She asks, no longer hiding her amusement. 

“You have no idea.” He says, turning his head to look at her. “She knows no fear, and that, apparently, extends to the rules of the road.” 

Emily does laugh at that and she shifts towards him, pressing her lips to his cheek. 

“Poor, baby.” 

He puts his arm around her, pulling her into his side, and she goes willingly, snuggling up into him. 

“I love her so much, sweetheart. I’d go to the end of the earth for her, but I don’t know if I can teach her how to drive.” 

Emily places her hand on his leg and runs her thumb back and forth over the material of his pants. 

“She can’t be that bad.” 

“She asked what the indicator is, 5 minutes before the end of the lesson. We’d been using it for almost an hour.” 

Emily hides her smile in his neck. “We all start somewhere love.” She shifts to kiss his cheek. “Are you sure this isn’t all mostly because your little girl is growing up?” 

He pokes her in her side, tickling at her ribs. “No profiling.” He sighs, turning his head to kiss her temple. “Are you sure you can’t teach her?” 

She pulls away from him, her eyebrow raised. “Oh no,” she says, smiling at him, “we agreed a long time ago, I do the sex talk, and you teach them how to drive.” 

He groans and closes his eyes, his head leaning back against the couch again. 

“Your dad warned me about this years ago,” he says, almost as if he isn’t aware he’s talking, “he told me you were a nightmare to teach.”

“He said what?” 

___

June 2037

Emily closes the door behind her as she gets home from a coffee date with JJ and Penelope. They’d forced her to go, an attempt to get her out of the house that she was strangely grateful for. The last time she’d seen them had been at Aaron’s funeral, and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to speak to them beyond the usual pleasantries, all of her focus on her children and holding herself together. 

“Mom, good timing,” Amelia says, appearing into view, “I was just thinking about dinner.” 

She can’t help but smile as she looks at her daughter. It was strange to think Amelia was now older than she had been when she’d met Aaron, then when she’d married him. She didn’t know how it had happened, how the once little girl was now this woman standing in front of her. Her dark hair piled on top of her head, the nose ring she’d had put in as a teenager, the one Aaron hated at the time, still going strong. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Emily replies, placing her purse down, “how was work?”

“It was good, I met Jamie for lunch.” 

Emily smiles at that, at the flash of something she doesn’t miss across Amelia’s face. She’d been staying here since Aaron was admitted to hospital during the couple of weeks before he died. At first, it was under the pretence that their house was closer to the hospital than her apartment. Then it was so she could help Emily with the funeral. Since then they hadn’t spoken about it. Amelia still here, sleeping in her childhood room, and only popping home to grab some things and briefly see Jamie.

“You don’t have to stay here you know,” Emily says softly, “I’ll be ok.” 

Amelia freezes on the spot, and frowns, an expression that was just so Aaron it makes Emily smile. “Mom,-”

“I appreciate it, Mills,” she says, closing the gap between them so she can reach out and hold her daughter’s hand, squeezing it tightly, “I appreciate it so much, but you can’t just put your life on hold for me.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” She says defensively, her eyebrows creasing even deeper.

“Jamie must miss you,” Emily offers up, smiling tightly, “I remember how quiet it seemed around here when you first moved out.” 

Amelia sighs and squeezes her mother’s hand. “I just don’t want you to be by yourself.” 

Emily smiles at Amelia before hugging her, blowing out a breath as she feels how tightly she holds her back, her fists grabbing at the back of her shirt like she hadn’t in years. 

Amelia had always been the loudest of their children. The most outspoken, the one filled with comebacks and sass, witty in a way Aaron had always claimed aged him. It made it easy to forget that she was also the most emotional of the three of them. Always so in tune with the emotions of those around her that she almost felt what others were feeling. 

“That’s very sweet of you, love,” Emily says, pulling back from Amelia and smiling at her, “but I’ll be ok.” 

Amelia uncurls one of her hands from behind Emily and wipes tears from her cheeks. 

“I remember when I was younger I’d always be so jealous that you all remembered what happened with Foyet and I didn’t.” She admits, her lower lip trembling, “ Like I’d missed out on something huge that bonded you all together. But…I never knew what it was like to live without Dad. And now I do and I hate it.” 

It tips Emily over the edge, her own grief hitting her again at full force at the sight of her daughter falling apart. She hugs her again as tightly as she can, trying to provide the comfort she doesn’t feel herself. She doesn’t know how long they stand there, locked in a tight embrace in the hallway of what used to be a busy home, but they take the time they need. 

“How about,” Emily says, pulling back enough to look at Amelia, gently wiping tears from her face like she hadn’t done since she was little, “we go get enough tacos to last a week, come back here and eat all of them, and fall asleep in front of a movie we’ve seen a thousand times,” she smiles, and Amelia does too, both of them ignoring the shake to them, “and then you can go home tomorrow.” 

Amelia laughs and nods, “That sounds perfect.” Before Emily can pull away, and head towards the door, Amelia hugs her again. “I love you, Mom.” 

“I love you too.”

___

January 1999

They’d talked about it. It was something they’d discussed on and off for years. Vague conversations about kids that started as thinly veiled comments in their early days, to more serious discussions as their relationship progressed. 

They both wanted children, she knew that. Sometimes she’d catch Aaron staring at her as she took her birth control in the morning, something she had consistently taken since she was 15. Despite that, she was still nervous as she waited for him to get home, her old habit of picking at her thumbnails coming back, her leg bouncing up and down. 

She was due a birth control review, the reminder from Joanne’s office on their kitchen counter, and to her, it seemed like the right time, the moment to take the step they had been skirting around for a little while now. She wanted to have a baby with him, to build their family. To be a mother. 

“Are you ok, love?”

She jumps and looks up to find him looking at her, his eyebrow creased in concern. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you were home.” 

“Clearly,” he quips, sitting next to her on the couch. He kisses her, his palm on her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

She forces a smile at him. “What makes you think something is wrong?” 

He tucks some of her hair behind her ear. “Well, you didn’t hear the door open,” he starts, before his hand seeks hers out, bringing it into her eye line, “you’ve torn your cuticles to shreds,” he puts his arm around her and she settles, “and, I’m your husband, I like to think I know you.” 

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Stupid profiling.” Her eyes meet his and he’s looking at her expectantly. She blows out a steady breath. “My birth control review is coming up,” she says, flashing him an unsteady smile, “I got the reminder today. I was thinking…I might not go.” 

She watches as he processes what she has said, realisation hitting him within seconds, his expression barely changing, only noticeable to her.

“Oh.”

“I could,” she says quickly, “get another year's worth, but I just thought-”

“Don’t go.” He says, smiling at her, cutting her off before she could spiral any further. She feels warmth spread throughout her chest, happiness threatening to overwhelm her, her smile wide enough to split her face in two.

“Really?” She asks, her voice quiet, afraid if she was too loud she would break this moment between them.

“Really,” he replies, kissing her fiercely, “let’s try for a baby.” 

She smiles against his lips, kissing him again, shifting so she was sitting on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips. 

“I love you so much,” she says in between kisses, never fully pulling away from him. 

“I love you too,” he replies, pulling her impossibly closer, his hands sneaking under her shirt. 

“Aaron,” she exclaims, laughing as he lifts the material, her shirt coming over her head, “what are you doing?” 

“Making a baby with my wife,” he says as if it was obvious, and she shakes her head at him, undoing his shirt despite her laughter. 

“I took the pill this morning, honey,” she replies, groaning slightly as he pulls her further into his lap, “it’s going to take a little time-”

He cuts her off with his lips on hers, his fingers trailing the lining of her bra, he stamps another kiss to her lips before pulling away. 

“I know,” he says, kissing her again, “but we can have fun practising.” 

She smiles at him, her cheeks aching with it. 

“I can’t argue with that.” 

___

May 2037

He’s sleeping by the time the doctors let her into his room. They’d stabilised him as much as they could without breaking the DNR signed years ago. Sits next to him, her hand over his, and she blows out a breath and tries to calm herself. 

“I was by myself when Mom died.” Emily says to the quietness of the room, the silence threatening to crush her. She threads her fingers through his and pushes hair off of his sleeping face. “You were on your way. I was by myself but I didn’t feel alone. I haven’t felt alone in so long. You’ve always been there,” she wipes a thumb under her eye, the tear she wiped away immediately replaced, “or the kids have. But I feel it now. I feel so alone and you’re still here.” 

“Em?”

She looks at him and sees he’s awake, groggy but awake, and she smiles at him.

“Hi honey, how are you feeling?” 

“Terrible,” he admits, his voice weak, “what happened?” 

“A stroke,” she says, unlinking her hand from his to move some of his hair from his forehead, “A small one, according to the doctor, like that makes it better.” 

He smiles at her, a glint in his eyes that lets her know he’s in there, that she’s talking to her Aaron. A rarity these days, a precious jewel in amongst all of the confusion and fear there usually was. 

“How much did you yell?” He asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Enough.” She replies, smiling at him before they lapse into silence again. 

“This next bit is going to be hard.” He says, linking their fingers together. It was something they had done hundreds, thousands, of times throughout their time together. Something automatic. Something she had often done without thinking. A passing show of affection, a quick way to say ‘I love you’ without words. They’d stopped needing to say it so long ago.

She closes her eyes and tries to memorise it. The feel of his wedding band against her skin. The warmth of his hands. The roughness of the callouses he still had on his thumb, even all these years after he retired, as it rubbed back and forth over her wrist. She tries to remember it all, to make sure it’s seared into her memory. 

She’d forgotten how it felt to hold his hand once before. It wasn’t something she wanted to lose again, not when she was already losing him.

“I know.” She replies, sniffing as she tries to hold back emotion, shaking her head slightly as if she could get rid of it. As if it was rain on a jacket, easily wiped away. “I love you. So much. Mother always said that I love you too much.” She tries to smile but fails, her chin wobbling with the force of her sadness. “This is the first time I think she may have been right.” 

“No, sweetheart. It’s never too much.” He squeezes her hand. “It’s never been too much. I love you, and I don’t regret a single second of all of it.” 

She tries to laugh but it comes out as a sob, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Not even the part where a serial killer forced me and the kids into hiding?”

“Not a second of it.” He repeats, and he smiles at her like he hasn’t in weeks. She sees their life together in it. Everything they’ve survived. All the love they shared. The arguments and the inevitable apologies that followed. The comfort and the tears, the way they had got each other through. Impossibly more in love each day than the last. 

She was going to miss it, miss him. 

“Me neither.” She says, smiling at him despite her tears. “I’d do it all again.” 

They talk until he falls asleep, and she allows herself to act as if this was normal for them. That this wasn’t one good day in amongst so many bad ones. 

She tells herself it isn’t the last good day, that they have more time, until it becomes clear that it was.

___

They are alone when it happens. Just the two of them as his ragged breathing comes to a slow stop, her hand tight around his. She feels selfish for how grateful she is that it happened that way, that she’d been afforded their final moments together. 

A lifetime of love, and happiness. Bitter arguments and tears. Joy and grief and each other. All coming to a quiet end. 

She wouldn’t change a second of it. The pain she feels as her children arrive, the brave face she slides on so easily, was the price she paid for getting to love him for so long. 

___

January 1993 

He was late. 

It was his first day at his new job and everything that could have gone wrong that morning had done so. It felt like everything had been against him since Haley left, like the universe had decided it just wasn’t enough for him to be left by his fiancee just before their wedding. 

Aaron turns down yet another hallway that seems to lead to nowhere and he sighs, wondering vaguely to himself how the hell he was supposed to provide security for the people who lived here if he couldn’t even find his new boss's office. 

“Are you lost?” A voice says from behind him. He turns around and that's when he sees her, looking at him with her eyebrows raised. She was beautiful, almost ethereal, her dark eyes full of mischief. “Do you need help?” 

“I…I need to find Ambassador Prentiss’ office.” He says, cursing himself slightly at the stutter at the start of his sentence. She smiles a little wider, and he wonders if she has this effect on everyone she meets. 

“Oh, that’s easy,” she says, walking over and standing next to him, “I tend to just follow the air of judgement and patronisation on the air,” she winks at him, “it smells oddly like Chanel Number 5.” He opens his mouth, unsure what to say and she laughs at him. “It’s down the corridor and to the left, I’ll walk you there.” 

“Thank you.” He says, unable to stop himself from smiling at her as they walk together. “How long have you worked here?”

He knows it's a stupid question based on her appearance alone, that anyone wearing sweatpants and a tank top likely wasn’t on the clock, but small talk had never been his thing. He’d always left that part up to Haley. 

She laughs at him. “Oh I don’t work here,” she smiles. “I’m Emily, I’m sure you’ll learn all about me soon enough.” They come to a stop outside of an office door and she gestures to it. “Here we are.”

He smiles gratefully at her. “Thank you, Emily.” 

“No problem…” She drifts off, looking at him expectantly. 

“Agent Hotchner.” He offers, a tight smile on his face, the title still strange to him. 

Emily smirks at him. “Your mother called you agent?” She asks, her eyes sparkling and it makes him laugh, something about her leaving him unsettled but wanting more. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Aaron. My name is Aaron.”

“Well, Agent Aaron Hotchner, it’s nice to meet you,” Emily replies, her smile widening. “And if you need anyone to show you around here let me know.” 

She goes to walk off, to return to whatever she had been doing when she had taken pity on him in the hallway, and something in him screams at him to stop her. Inexplicably wanting more time in her presence, to get to know more about her.

“Emily,” he says after her, waiting for her to turn back around, her eyes meeting his again, “I’d like that.” 

“Ok then, see you tomorrow Agent Hotchner.” She smiles at him, bright and beautiful and he can’t help but wonder if everything was about to change for the better. 

“Yeah,” he replies, returning her smile, “see you tomorrow.” 

___

“If tomorrow starts without me, don't think we're far apart, for every time you think of me, please know I'm in your heart.” - David Romano 

-x-

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