#clark: i have eight whole siblings now!

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 131

Okay, so first of all Dan would like to say it’s not his fault. Ellie was the one to bring some unknown object into the speeder and Jazz was the one driving. Or had Sam been driving- didn’t matter! It wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t the one shooting at them, he wasn’t the one to break whatever, he was not the one to open a stupid portal, and so it wasn’t his fault! 

So why is he now like, five years old, and why is the speeder crashed in some sort of corn field. Why is everyone- except for Jazz whose now like six- also like three at most?! And- oh fuck the door just opened and… okay that’s a kid. Like, nine at most. 

A kid and an adult, who he hadn’t noticed at first so again, it’s not his fault if he hissed at them and tried to hide his not-siblings behind him. It’s also not fair they’re apparently stuck to ghost speak for who knows how long, but at least they can understand the people. 

“Martha, get some blankets, it’s happened again!” 

[charcoalgrayswriting]

I have had a horrible HP OC idea :DD

So the premise is a 6th year Ravenclaw, Elizabeth Clarke, student who's father, Dorian Clarke, works for MI6. It is the beginning of Harry Potters 4th year.

Now stay with me here because; Dorian works for MI6 he already knows about magic, because the Muggle/Magical government sometimes have to work together.

This is technically multifandom but you don't have to know anything about anything other than harry potter

Under the cut is a lot of info I have literally been thinking about this for 6 months. I have issues ;.;

So I headcannon that around the world, lots of other places are much more lax with the statute of secrecy. So when Dorian went and fought in Vietnam he was very violently introduced to magic, on his side and on the side of the Viet Cong.

So when his daughter is born and has magic, he goes to one of his magical coworkers and asks for advice. This coworker just so happens to be Kingsley Shackbolt. So he learns a whole lot about the magical world and gets an insight into magical politics. He also enlists Kingsley to help her with her magic and anything else Eliza may need.

When she was born, her mum, Marie, died in childbirth. This meant Dorian had to take a step back from the field and care for her. But when she is five, he meets her ma'.

Her ma, Nora, is a strong independent Irishwoman who was stuck in an abusive relationship with an armsdealer. In exchange for his death, she informed on him to the government, and that is where Nora and Dorian meet. He was her government contact. When her husband died, and she got a new identity, they kept in contact and fell in love.

She took to Elizabeth like she was her own daughter. The pair married when Elizabeth was eight, two years later. They had twins who are Elizabeth's half siblings, Sloane and William. They were born a year after the marriage when Elizabeth was nine.

During this time, Dorian has become renowned throughout the magical and muggle espionage worlds for his work.

Some of Elizabeths honorary multifandom family include; Alastor Moody (Grandpa Ally), Kingsley Shackbolt (Uncle King), Amelia Bones (Auntie Amy), Henrietta Lange (Granny Hetty), Napoleon Solo (Uncle Leon), Illiya Kuryakin (Uncle Iliusha), Gabby Teller (Auntie Gabby), Harry Hart (Uncle Gal), Hamish Mycroft (Uncle Merlin), James Bond (Uncle Spy), Russell Adler (Uncle Russ), Helen Park (Aunt Helen)

Now onto the actual plot :DD

It starts in book 4 at the quidditch game. I would like it to be from Harry's perspective when he makes it to the top booth and sees the British Minister chatting with the Bulgarian Minister. So she comes into the booth wearing a Princess Diana esque outfit and the Bulgarian Minister is so happy to see her and starts chatting to her in Bulgarian.

Harry can't tell what she's saying but it's clear from her tone of voice she is making fun of the British Minister. No one picks up on this but him. She then introduces herself, and when Malfoy Sr. asks how she knows the Bulgarian Minister she tells him that it's classified lol. The Bulgarian Minister looses his shit with laughter.

(can you tell i dont remember these mens names lol)

Then the games begin and go how they went in cannon. At the end, the Bulgarian Minister convinces Elizabeth to come with him and meet the Bulgarian team.

Then when the Death Eaters attack and everyone runs into the forest they see her, perched in one of the trees with a HK33 assault rifle aimed at the Death Eaters. She is ready to obliterate them if they get too close.

Since she is still a minor, she is not yet allowed to use magic, so she has to make do with one of the guns her father/family taught her to shoot.

When the Death Eaters vanish and the Ministry Officials get there, she is still holding her gun. This is when the POV switches to her and her thought process is something along the lines of her hoping they don't ask to look into her bag so she doesn't have to show them the small arsenal her family gave her.

(Guns in her arsenal 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7)

She defends the trio and tells the ministry to talk to her lawyer, and tells them to fuck off. Then she goes home and promptly tells her father everything. Mysteriously, she is not contacted by the ministry again.

When she goes back to Hogwarts, she already knows about the TriWizzard Tournament. So she isn't shocked. Since her birthday was September 29, 1978 she could put her name in, but she is uninterested.

So when her name is called as the Hogwarts official champion, she is understandably pissed off. Still she goes back with the other champions, and decides to wait for the officials before reaming them out. When Harry Potter comes back and says he is a champion though, she really looses her shit.

Not at him though, at the adults. She starts raging and cursing and demanding to see the rule book. When she does confirm both her and Harry have to compete, she demands to keep a copy of the rule book. She promises Harry all the help she can give him, which prompts the other champions to do the same.

When she gets back to Ravenclaw tower, she stands on a table in the center of the room and makes an announcement. She tells her housemates that she is outsourcing the work of this tournament.

There will be a prize for anyone who can tell her, with proof, who put her name in the goblet, and who can tell her what the challenge is, and the best way to beat the challenge. She may not want this, but she will make the organizers regret not taking her out.

Flitwick gives her a look and she adds that if their schoolwork slips between now and them giving her the advice they would not be getting the prize. Then she goes to bed.

For the next few weeks she is getting intel about the first task, and filters the important bits to Harry and Harmione.

She also takes this time to snag Moody's flask. She's been around him since she was 6, she knew how he acts. And he never drinks around children. So she steals the flask and asks Snape to test it. When he does he finds out it is Polyjuice Potion.

Instantly she goes to the fire and calles Auntie Amy, who assembles some Aurors to go to Hogwarts. Elizabeth leads them to 'Moody's' classroom and they restrain him and find out who he is. After some (lightish) interrogation, BC Jr. gives up the location of Moody. Once he does, she gets him out.

Moody is proud of her, telling her, "I knew you would figure it out." before passing out. He is sent to St. Mungo's for treatment. Because he wasn't held long, he was able to come back and teach within the week.

It is classified, and no one knows about the switch. They just think that Moody got nicer and stopped drinking.

When Rita tries her BS she tells the cockroach "No comment, and if you put anything else in that paper about me I will sue you until you can't even get a job in Knockturn." and Harry follows suit because he knows a good idea when he sees one.

Eliza makes some pointed comments about "A grown woman wanting to go into a broom closet with a little boy isn't a good look now, is it?" and Rita completely backs off.

So on the day of the trial, she is prepared. When Harry draws the hardest dragon, she forces him to switch with her because he is a literal child. Then she goes out there and gets the egg.

When she gets back to the common room she outsources the second trial again with a similar speech.

When she completes the second task, she is furious because they took her muggle ma from her. She nearly kills Dumbledore for allowing this. Thankfully, her ma talks her down, and states that they can just sue instead when this was all over.

Everyone sweatdrops like they're in an anime.

When she learns she has to dance at the ball she is annoyed. When Harry says he has no one to go with, she offers to go with him as friends. They agree and have a good time.

When she finally gets to the maze, she is armed to the teeth. She summons her extendable bag from her dad, who is in the audience. It is filled with enough ammunitions to supply a small army. Once she slaughters her way to the cup, Harry makes it at the same time.

They both agree to grab it, and get transported to the graveyard. Voldemort orders her dead, but when the Killing Curse is shot at her, it only knocks her back. Her fathers old identity disks stopped it. She lays there stunned, waiting for the perfect moment to get up and kill the bastard, take Harry, and run.

Unfortunatly, Moldymort manages to finish the ritual before she gets up. Then he summons the Death Eaters, and she really has to pretend to be dead. Him and Harry duel, and while everyone is distracted, she slowly inches her way towards the Cup.

When she is in position, she lays down covering fire with one of her guns, hitting Death Eaters, and getting Voldemort in the heart. As the Death Eaters return fire and Harry runs towards her, she watches Voldemort stand back up, unhindered by her bullet. The same can not be said for the other Death Eaters who she has shot.

They grab the Cup and are whisked back to the Tournament. She still has her gun out, and doesn't let anyone approach until her dad comes and talks her down. When she tells him about Voldy, he gets quiet and murderous, before turning to Moody, who turns to Dumbledore.

Eliza, her family, and Harry, as well as Snape are ushered into Dumbledores office. When they demand to know why Voldy didn't die, Dumbles talks them in circles. When Eliza gets sick of it and starts shouting, he tells the truth about Horcruxes. Everyone is pissed.

Eliza then tells Harry that he would be staying with her and her family over the break, and he readily accepts. Dumbledore questions Harry's safety, but then Dorian lays out the nonmagical defenses he has set up at their mansion, and Moody chimes in with the magical defenses he set up. Safe to say, the questions about safety are unwarranted after their brief explanation.

Then she goes through the rest of the year like normal, never finding out who put her name in the Goblet of Fire. When she gets off the train, she and Harry walk to her family. There they are greeted with hugs.

Bonuses:

On easter break she goes home and we get to see her interact with her terrifying uncles/aunts/grandparents. Even better if Harry/Ron/Harmione join in and are slightly horrified by how dangerous these people are lol

Eliza and her non-mgaical family play capture the flag but they use real tactics and gear with their paint guns. No magic and it kinda terrifies the magical people.

Napoleon has a bank vault in Gringotts for all his stolen things

Napoleon, Illiya, Hetty, and Harry (Hart) helped her pick out her Yule gown. Her parents are there of course, but they don't have the same passion for fashion that these spies have. They mostly sit there and give confused but supportive thumbs ups.

Merlin and Bond keep giving her new tech to try out at school to see how it interacts with magic.

Gabby and Sloane work on cars together.

Hetty, Nora, Helen, Gabby, and Amelia form a terrifying relationship that scares all men. Eliza and Sloane don't get what's so terrifying about them, and are slowly being indoctrinated by the scary women.

When the DA is made, Eliza finds them in the bar and scolds them for shitty spycraft, before pointing out the man listening in on them. She quickly moves them elsewhere, and becomes one of its core teachers. She teaches weapons, self defense, and espionage.

When they go and storm the Ministry Eliza kills Bellatrix before she can hurt Sirius because she used one of her guns.

When she met the Order of the Phoenix she was completely unimpressed with how they were running things, and taught them how to run a better resistance group. When they tried to shit on her for this, she tells them that her dad literally did this for a living for many years and she knows what she's talking about. She is also unimpressed that they only have one spy.

Eliza in her 7th year steals blood quills and sends them to her parents as proof of the abuse. It is halfway through the year when this happens. She got a detention for snoging George Weasley. Then she does international interviews about how the British Ministry is allowing this to happen, and circumventing Dumbledore. Umbridge is quickly fired. A revolving door of Aurors start teaching DADA.

Eliza roundhose kicks someone in the head and then John Cena elbow drops onto them in her second year because they called her a mudblood. She gets lots of detention but that was the last time anyone tried that, so she saw it as a win. So did her family. After all, in Hetty's wise words to her afterwards, "You can't negotiate with fascist bigots, dear. Better to just kill them instead."

She prefers riding horses to riding brooms (riding a thestral was the highlight of her year) and her ma owns a farm where they ride together because they are the only ones who really enjoy it. (The others will join if Nora asks, but only then).

She is Flitwick's favorite student. He tried to convince her to become a Prefect but she just laughed and told him she would switch schools if he tried to do that to her. (She was not joking and he knew it).

Maybe, her mum was not who she seemed to be, and knew more about magic than she let on...

Anyway I'm all done for now and congrats if you read through all'at

Will probably add to this if I have anymore ideas

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Eyes and Ears

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: An AU where Barbara finds Jason instead of Bruce.

It's March and Jason's fifteen in this chapter.

Chapters: 28/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon, Jim Gordon, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s)

Relationship(s): Jason Todd/Original Character(s), Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Older SIbling Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd-centric, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Jason Todd is NOT Robin, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Has a Crush, Adopted Siblings

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Tacos With Lois

On the last day of their trip, Jason and Reese went to the Daily Planet and sat out front eating their lunch. A woman came out of the building and looked around and down at the boys eating on the ground. "Do you kids wanna make twenty bucks each?" she asked. Jason looked up, and his jaw dropped.

"Y—you're Lois—."

"I sure am. Can you two make a lunch run to the Taco Whiz? I wrote everything down, and here's the cash," Lois interrupted. Jason nodded, still in shock. She gave them the cash, and they ran across the street and stood in line.

"That was Lois Lane," Reese whispered.

"Not to be weird—." They both spoke in unison and laughed.

"What were you gonna say?" Jason asked.

"I was gonna say she's just as pretty in person," Reese rubbed the back of his neck, "What were you gonna say?"

"The same exact thing," Jason laughed. Reese smiled and kissed him on the cheek. Jason smiled, and they ordered the food to go and sat down. Jason's phone rang, and he didn't recognize the number, so he let it go to voicemail.

Reese looked at the number. "What city is that?" Reese asked.

"Um... I don't know... I think San Francisco," Jason replied, "They'll leave a message if it's an emergency." A man called their order number, and they ran back across the street and into the Daily Planet.

They looked around, and when they heard Lois's voice, they went straight to her desk. She paid them, and they stood at her desk in complete silence. "You boys can sit if you want something. I'm almost done," she replied without looking up as she typed with one hand and reached in the doggie bag with the other. "Help yourselves, by the way. I know I sort of interrupted your lunch."

"We were done," Jason whispered.

"And um—. We know you're busy, but we were sort of hoping that we could get a picture with you," Reese added.

"After you're done, of course," Jason clarified. Lois smiled at them.

"What are your names?" Lois asked as she bit into her taco and stopped for long enough to shake their hands as they introduced themselves. "Skipping school today or—?"

"Oh no, we're on spring break," Jason replied.

"Oh, okay. Good. Don't skip school," Lois pointed at both of them half-serious, and she went back to eating and typing. A man came over and asked if he was disturbing Lois before turning to the boys. "Have a seat."

"Clark Kent, nice to meet you," he introduced himself as he shook their hands. Jason stared at Clark for a moment as he tried to remember where he'd seen him. Clark shifted uncomfortably.

"I remember you now. I've read some of your articles," Jason complimented him. Clark smiled and relaxed his shoulders. "It's almost like you know Superman personally."

"Oh no, not really. Lois knows him pretty well, though," Clark replied. Jason and Reese looked at her.

"He's even better than what you imagined," Lois replied before taking a pause.

"Gotham?" she asked as she pointed to both of them.

"Mhm, we go to the academy," Reese replied, "We've been trying to hang around this part of the city to see Superman our whole spring break." Jason nudged him.

Lois finished typing and offered Clark a taco. Clark took one. "I'm sure there's still time to see him," Clark reassured. Jason's phone rang again, and he apologized before noticing that it was the same San Francisco number. He put his phone on vibrate.

"How old are you two kids?" Lois asked.

"We're fifteen," Jason replied.

"Curfew?" Lois asked.

"Oh, not until dinnertime. My dad's on business here for the week, so we're all just tagging along," Reese answered. Lois nodded, covering her mouth as she finished eating the last of her food, and she wiped her hands with a napkin.

"M'kay. Mind if the four of us take the picture outside?" Lois asked.

They both nodded and followed Lois out front. Lois grabbed someone on their way into the Daily Planet and asked if they could take the picture. They snapped pictures, and just before they took the final photo of the boys with Clark and Lois, Reese leaned over and kissed Jason. Jason's eyes widened, and he stood on his tiptoes to meet Reese halfway. Clark and Lois chuckled out of surprise.

Jason pulled away, and his face heated up. "Wait, was that your first kiss?" Lois asked as she gestured to the both of them, and Jason couldn't manage to find words to speak. Reese smiled and nodded.

"Yeah," Reese whispered. Jason grabbed Reese's hand and gave it a squeeze. Lois brushed Clark's knuckle with her pinky.

"Jason!" a voice yelled from far off.

"Dick?" Jason and Clark asked in unison. Jason looked up at Clark. "Reese, hold on. I gotta go talk to my sister's friend." He ran over to meet Dick, and Dick held up his phone.

"Your phone? Do you answer it?" Dick asked angrily.

"You were that weird San Francisco number?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, and I need you to come with me. Jim's gonna call your friend's dad and explain everything," Dick replied as he took Jason by his wrist. Jason stood in place.

"Hold on. You see that boy over there? That's my boyfriend, and I can't just ditch him—." Dick sighed and sent a text message. Jason raised a brow as Clark looked down at his phone and nodded.

"Clark'll make sure he gets back to the hotel, but we gotta go. I told your dad I'd come and get you as soon as possible," Dick replied.

Jason followed him to a parking garage. Just as he turned, he felt a sharp pain in the side of his neck. The last thing he remembered was the sound of Dick's voice.

[lexa-griffins]

Can you break my heart and make me cry today? I wanna know about the major angst involving Bedwarmer Clarke and Lexa's baby from the poll we did

😈😈😈😈 there are two plot points of angst.

One of them, I won't say much - i will say there were two babies, and now there's only one. They didn't know there were two babies.

For the second point:

They are pretty far off in the pregnancy by now. Lexa has been trying to take it easy but she's still heda and she also has a small toddler to take care of so she does move a whole lot and assists with training and refuses to slow down to much even if Clarke thinks she should.

She's adamant that despite everything she is not at risk during the pregnancy, the midwives have told her she is healthy and should be perfectly fine to go about her business - as so many women do on the ground. Clarke wants to disagree, but the medical training she got on the ark barely touched pregnancy and childbirth and sometimes she really wished her mom was alive to go and ask her for advice but without her all she has is her medical instinct and a sense of doom.

That night, Lexa wakes up like usual, the baby making her go to the bathroom is by now a fairly normal occurrence at eight months. She waddled her way to the bathroom, trying to be quiet with Madi asleep with them in the bed. She's half asleep, not paying much attention to anything until she sees it. Blood, in her underwear.

No. No no no. Not now. Not this time. Not again, please no.

She wakes up Clarke to tell. Lexa feels horribly calm too. Perhaps she already knew it was going to happen, had accepted it long before it happened. When Clarke wakes up at first, she assumes Lexa is in labor but Lexa tells her no, she's spotting and they need to go to the midwife.

Madi half wakes up in the commotion of them asking a guard to watch her, and Lexa only starts to choke up when the little girl calls her over and kisses her tummy because she "wants to say bye bye to her baby sibling". She says it all the time when Lexa leaves in the morning, she doesn't mean anything by it but it feels far too real this time.

When the midwife tells them she cannot be sure and that they will have to wait to see how it progresses, Clarke feels the urge to kick the old woman. What the fuck does she mean they have to way and see?! Thats their baby! If she was in the ark, if if Clarke had managed to help, if her people hadnt been so fucking stupid maybe theyd have their technology and theyd be able to know if the baby inside Lexa is still alive or not, they could just remove the baby instead of waiting to see if her wife will have to give birth to... she cant even think about that.

They go back to the room. Clarke cannot stop pacing as if trting to remember anything that could help them right now. Lexa seems to barely be aware of anything around her, staring ahead, hands in her stomach hoping to feel a movement, a hiccup, something. But the baby is awfully quiet and still, Lexa can barely remember if she felt them move at all through the day and shevstarts to question if there is something she could have done today, yesterday, at all to save their baby. Maybe she could have done everything different. Or maybe she could have done nothing at all because this baby was just a wild fantasy that was never to be.

Madi is asleep next to them. So sweet and small. She's been so excited for a sibling, she already adores Lexa so much and had been so affectionate towards Lexa's bump over the past 3 months (yes, only three. Lexas eight months pregnant, that is not a typo 👀). It breaks Lexa's heart even more, having to explain to her where the baby has gone.

At some point, they fall asleep. Neither have cried yet because despite all of their sureness in the end of this dream, neither dare to acknowledge it might be over.

Lexa wakes up with a pain on her side. She groans at it. She does not want to wake, she does not want to face the day knowing she might be less whole by the end of it.

The pain again. She swats at whatever is making it but catches nothing.

And again.

"Nomon."

"Madi baby shh"

"Nomon."

"Hmm"

"Nomon, baby want you to wake up."

"Not yet Madi."

"Baby kicking nomon. Up! Befast!"

[zosonils-art]

yo new mega man oc just dropped!! drum is a wily equivalent to roll the same way bass is a wily equivalent to rock. a handful of friends helped me think up a BUNCH of lore for her over the course of only about a day and i'm rotating her in my brain so hard at the moment i'll put it under a cut for convenience's sake but if you're interested here's a whole lotta stuff about her :O

in case the name pun wasn't immediately clear they're 'drum and bass' the same way their equivalents are 'rock and roll' lmao. since bass' name was changed from forte in localisation, i'd name her piano in a theoretical japanese dub [for those unaware, piano and forte are the musical terms for quiet and loud respectively]

her job is basically to keep things organised over at wily castle number whatever, whether that's by doing housework or evading wily's taxes for him or telling the latest eight robot masters her dad brought home what to do. like how bass' role as a combat robot leads him to being a hyper-aggressive, short-tempered blood knight, drum's role as an organisation bot makes her a bossy and overbearing control freak

despite their similarities, and as opposed to their lightbot counterparts' sweet and healthy sibling relationship, drum and bass fucking HATE each other with the kind of passion only siblings can. they're always butting heads over trivial things like who should do the dishes or whose turn it is on the xbox or who treble loves more [it's drum because she feeds him scraps from cooking when bass' back is turned lmao]. the only people they hate more than each other are their dad and mega man. the whole wily family dynamic is supposed to be something of a sad mirror image of the light family, where instead of the siblings being best friends and having a loving, supportive dad who'll always be proud of them it's a more pessimistic situation where the siblings are at each other's throats over everything except their mutual hatred of their even meaner father figure

i promise there's more to her than just parallels to other characters lmao but as opposed to her dad's bitterness towards light driving every war crime he commits or her brother's unhealthy obsession with being better than rock, drum very quickly came to the conclusion that she is and always will be inherently better than a lowly servant robot like roll and unlike SOME PEOPLE IN THIS FUCKING FAMILY she doesn't need to commit acts of heinous unprovoked violence left and right to prove it to herself. if anything she's insulted at being compared to roll and gets angrily defensive when the comparison is made

HOWEVER. the lads and i decided that perhaps drum and roll could end up being friends somehow - not sure how that'd come about aside from 'one time roll said 'why are you such a bitch' to drum's face and drum was so impressed at the sheer audacity that she legitimately started to respect roll' but it'd be so cute if they had a big/little sister dynamic..... one day drum realises that despite her best efforts she's developed genuine affection towards the less shooty of light's brats and she's like fuck. okay. how did i get here. eventually she begrudgingly accepts that she and the kid are ride or die now and decides to make the most of it by teaching roll swear words

while drum isn't supposed to fight, she's equipped with a standard arm buster, and her own treble adaptor in case she desperately needs some extra firepower. she heavily relies on fighting smarter rather than harder, but she probably wouldn't be able to hold out for long against a stronger opponent like mega man, even with the boost from treble

due to them both having the adaptor, drum and bass can fuse together with treble [but not on their own]. in theory the combined trio would be a hell of a force to be reckoned with, but in practice since drum and bass hate each other so much they can barely hold themselves together for long enough to spit out a bullet hell pattern before their nonstop bickering either renders treble-boosted d&b immobile from their own infighting like the archie comics doc robot or causes them to fall apart completely because one of them wants to yell at the other more efficiently. if something does drive them to put aside their differences for a fight, though, watch out

drum has the same voice as malfina the demon witch [wife of clark from connecticut]

she would unironically use 'dweeb' as an insult. in general i think drum talks like the mean emo older sibling in a narm-riddled coming of age movie from the mid-2000s

she's lead guitarist in an edgy teenage garage band with mix and level, a friend's extremely cool and awesome ocs. sometimes she also does vocals, other times she brings her little sister the blonder of the light lab brats along and gives her the honour of scream-singing the lyrics to [BAND NAME TBD]'s latest hit, Shut Up Dad

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

For the Flame Always So Loved the Stars - fic

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Tim Drake, Conner Kent, Kara Kent, Clark Kent, Lois Lane Pairing: jondami Summary: Nothing stays the same forever. But fairytales always end the same way. A/N: This is just a whole fucking lot of self-indulgent garbage. Takes place over 5 years, Damian is 18-23, and Jon is 15-20. The last section is just their superhero way of saying ‘I love you and always will.’ but like. Subtly. I wrote this for myself, but I’m pleased with how it came out, so I hope you like it too. Sorry not sorry for literally the first line of this fic haha. The legend was googled so I took the most similar parts in all the wikis I read. I ignored the part where they all said ‘their story always ends in tragedy and betrayal’ but I’m going for happy endings dammit.

~~

Dick Grayson died when Damian was eighteen.

He wasn’t there. No one from the family was. It was a simple carjacking gone wrong. A single bullet, straight to the chest, from a scared kid who thought completing the initiation to the local gang was his only option to survive in this life.

It was almost funny. A single bullet. No poison, no torture. No evil mastermind, or world-ending apocalypse. No battles against armies, or lives and loves at stake. Not anything they dealt with daily.

Just an old car with a purse left on the passenger seat that someone saw. Just a weak spot in aged armour that was going to be replaced in the next year or so.

Just a single bullet.

Damian doesn’t remember much from after he was told, after he came home from class and found his siblings and Stephanie waiting for him in the parlor. He remembered knowing it must have been bad; Tim’s face was blotchy, his eyes red-rimmed and he wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Stephanie was the one who told him. Cassandra held his hand. But that was about it. That was all his mind supplied.

That, and the fact that his first thought after being told was: ‘But that’s not fair.’

Not fair because Dick was the best of them, in every way. Because he was funny, smart, kind, and every single thing a hero should be. A good person.

Not fair because Damian only got eight years with him, his closest confidante, one of his only friends. Because Damian decided at age ten that a world without Dick Grayson was not one he wanted to live in, and yet here he was, in the worst reality he could think of.

He doesn’t remember much from after he was told. He remembers Stephanie saying: “Dick died, Damian.” He remembers thinking: ‘But that’s not fair.’

Then...he remembers a pain in his knees. Remembers blinking and finding himself staring at the floor, which was much closer than it should have been. He remembers his sister kneeling in front of him, allowing him to press his  forehead into her shoulder. Remembers Jason next to him, rubbing his back, asking if they should get him water, or take him upstairs.

He remembers hearing Tim sob, and that might be the most memorable thing of the moment, because his body registered that that’s what he wanted to do too, he wanted to cry.

But he couldn’t, because you don’t cry over things that weren’t real. And that’s obviously why he collapsed, why he couldn’t form words to come out of his mouth, why his mind was refusing to remember this moment.

Because it wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

~~

Jon was antsy. Nervous.

Alfred had called days ago to inform him and his parents what had happened. And Jon had already been halfway out the door when the butler interjected to request that none of them visit, not right now. The Waynes and their closest companions were grieving, and needed to be alone.

And he hated that – he hated being away from Damian on a good day, but now, when Damian was going to need him? It was pure agony.

So two weeks later, when Clark gave him the okay, he took off to Gotham faster than he ever had before, and bypassed every bit of security measures that Bruce asked him to complete upon arriving.

He found Damian in the cemetery, and he had a feeling it was a place Damian didn’t often leave anymore.

Jon said nothing as he approached. Just plopped next to Damian and silently wrapped his arms around the other’s neck. Damian didn’t say anything either, but he leaned gratefully into the embrace, reaching up to cling to Jon’s forearm.

“I’m so sorry.” Jon whispered, leaning back. He didn’t leave Damian’s personal space, though. Kept their shoulders touching, knees keeping each other warm. “I…I don’t know what else to say. To think.”

“Me neither.” Damian murmured. His voice sounded dry, and Jon wondered when he last drank anything, or ate. “But…I’m glad you’re here.”

Jon let himself smile a little bit, and reached out to hold Damian’s hand. Damian didn’t refute the gesture, and even squeezed Jon’s fingers between his. “I wish I’d had been allowed to come sooner.”

Damian shrugged. “It was better you didn’t see any of us as we…were.”

“Were, huh?” Jon asked dubiously. He glanced forward towards Dick’s grave. Flowers and statues covered it as a makeshift memorial, and the flowers were starting to wilt. “…How are you doing with all this?”

Damian absently shook his head. “I don’t…I don’t know.”

Jon waited, sensing there was more. Had a feeling that in their grief-induced isolation, not many feelings were shared amongst the Wayne family. That they probably all suffered in silence, despite being together.

“I…I didn’t get enough time with him.” Damian continued, just like Jon knew he would. Because Damian didn’t trust easily, but when he did, he trusted you with everything. And Jon knew he was one of the few Damian trusted. Maybe the only one, now. “Eight years. That’s it.”

He squeezed Jon’s hand again.

“If I’d had known that’s all we would have gotten, I…I wouldn’t have wasted it. There was so much I wanted to do with him. Learn from him.” Damian sniffed, and Jon looked up at his eyes. But he didn’t see a hint of tears. In fact, he saw nothing. Damian’s eyes were empty. “But now I’ll never get the chance. I’ll never get to ask how he escaped Father and Gotham. How he survived on his own, and found himself, or how can I do that too. How I can leave Robin, and start over somewhere else like he did. How he rebuilt his life, how he became and remained kind. Did he think it was possible I can remain kind too? Did he…did he believe in me? Or what about how…”

Damian trailed off, and Jon was almost glad he did. Because in his ramblings, Jon heard something, and he wasn’t so sure Damian meant to let it slip.

“You want to leave Robin?” Jon asked softly. Damian’s mouth clamped shut. “Since when?”

Damian stared at the stone in front of him for a moment, before sighing and looking at the ground.

“A few months.” Damian admitted. “I…just don’t fit in it anymore, I don’t think. Or it doesn’t fit me. And I can’t stay in Batman’s shadow forever, no matter who is wearing the mantle. Besides, Grayson left it when he was around my age. As did Drake, even if it wasn’t by his choice. I might as well follow the tradition as well.”

“…Does your dad know?”

“…No. No one does.” Damian frowned. “I was going to speak with Grayson about it next time I saw him, but now…now you’re the only one who knows by default, I suppose.”

“Well, thanks for telling me.” Jon smiled. He waited a moment, then looked up at the sky. “So…what do you want to do after you leave Robin? Find a new name? Quit and go on the straight and narrow?”

“I don’t know. That’s…what I was going to speak to Grayson about.” Damian admitted softly. “I want to still help, of course. But…is behind a mask the best way? Is Gotham where I’m best utilized?” He sighed, and curled his knees to his chest. Though he never let go of Jon’s hand. “But now…now I am even more confused.”

“Why?”

“Because Batman needs a Robin, and I can’t leave my father now, Jon.” Damian almost snapped, like it was obvious. “He’s grieving, and he’s lost. He shouldn’t be alone. He shouldn’t be left alone.”

“Absolutely not. I agree.” Jon nodded. “But…it can’t all fall on you, D. Just like it can’t fall on Alfred or Tim. He has his family, no matter where in the world they – you – are, and he has his friends. He has my dad, and Diana.”

“This is different. This is the loss of Richard. And not even Superman can heal that wound.” Damian shook his head. “Not to mention…if I left now, would my father see it as a betrayal? Abandonment? Would the family?”

“They wouldn’t. They couldn’t.” Jon argued. “You’re growing up, and they all know how it is. You can’t be stuck as the Boy Wonder forever, that’s not fair to you. Does the timing kind of suck? Maybe. But also…maybe this is the best time.” He hesitated, but squeezed Damian’s hand and said his thoughts anyway. “Maybe this is exactly what Dick would want you to do. Spread your wings and fly, so to speak.”

Damian stared at the ground. “…I don’t know what I’m going to do without him, Jon. I truly don’t. What if, without his guidance, I’m tempted by my mother again, and actually consider any offer she makes? What if I stray, and Batman cuts me loose, like I was burden in the first place? What if-”

“Hey, hey – stop. Don’t talk like that.” Jon shook their clasped hands. “None of that is going to happen, okay? Despite the fact that it won’t ever happen at all in the first place, I won’t let it. I promise. Alright?”

Damian didn’t look at him. But after a moment, he let himself tilt to the side, and lean his head on Jon’s shoulder.

“…Thanks for being here, Kent.” Damian whispered. “It means a lot.”

Jon let go of Damian’s hand, only to wrap his arm around his shoulders instead. He looked at the tombstone at their feet, sent a silent prayer up to Dick himself. “Don’t even mention it, D.”

~~

A few months later, Robin had all but disappeared off the streets. It prompted news articles and primetime specials. Conspiracy theory websites and Twitter hashtags.

Jon liked to print them out and bring them to Damian every time he visited.

He was still in Gotham, and even still going out on patrol with Batman and the rest. But now his uniform was all black, and he stayed in the background as much as he could. This new shadow of Batman’s was never mentioned in the papers, never caught in a photo. A ghost, almost.

That wasn’t Damian’s new moniker, though. He still hadn’t chosen one.

“Not even a general idea?” Jon asked one day, as he and Conner visited. Tim had taken the newly printed article and was reading it over with an amused smirk, Conner cackling behind him. “Or like, a motif?”

“Not a priority.” Damian had shrugged. “Maybe I’ll never pick one.”

“Now you’re just being stubborn.” Jon pouted. “…How’s Bruce doing?”

Damian shrugged again. “Same as always. Attempts to lock himself in the cave, or in his office with work from Wayne Enterprises. I drag him out of the house at least every other day.”

Jon pursed his lips.

“But he’s been smiling lately. Like real smiles. So, it’s a start.” Damian promised. He knew Jon didn’t like this, Damian caring for Bruce. Because he knew that same care was not being reciprocated in the way it should.

“How long are you going to stay?” Jon asked, as he did every visit. “In Gotham, I mean.”

“I don’t know. Also not a priority.” Damian sighed. “I’m needed here, both in uniform and at home. When I feel I’m not necessarily needed, then I’ll start considering my options elsewhere.”

~~

Something felt different when Jon was nineteen.

Clark and Conner found him sitting in the kitchen, staring fiercely into a soda can when they arrived home one afternoon.

“Hey, champ.” Clark hummed, leaning down to kiss Jon’s temple.

“Hey, Dad. Hey Kon” Jon sighed. “How was Gotham?”

“Gloomy, like always.” Conner chuckled, plopping down across from him. “Damian said hello, by the way.”

Jon felt himself blush a little bit. And he shouldn’t have, he’s known Damian forever. But lately, it felt like the two of them were growing closer, in a way he never expected when they were just teenagers trying to live up to their fathers’ legacies.

In a way that included flirting, holding hands in a park, in front of paparazzi. A way that included what may have been a date, since it ended in a quick, barely there kiss.

“He said he was going to give an answer to a question he knows you’d ask.” Clark continued, drawing Jon out of his reverie. “No, he has not decided on a new codename yet.”

Jon groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “He knows this isn’t like a blood contract or something, right? It doesn’t have to be permanent! It’s not that big of a choice!”

Clark held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger, son.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Jon sighed. He sat back up and watched his father grab a glass and start to fill it in the sink. “Speaking of codenames and all that…”

Clark tilted his head as Conner sat up.

“I don’t…when do you think…” Jon huffed. “Conner, when did you realize you didn’t want to…be called Superboy anymore?”

Conner pursed his lips, looked at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Guess I never really thought about it. Just…stopped using it. And eventually everyone else did too.”

“I don’t think I knew that.” Clark mumbled sheepishly. “What do you go by now, may I ask?”

“Nothing, really. And not like Damian where I’m still deciding something. But just…Kon, usually. Different enough from Conner, honestly.” Conner grinned. “A lot of people also seem to think it’s Con – as in Pros and Cons? Works real well for the taunting wordplay and all that too.”

Clark snorted. “I’m sure your friends love the puns.”

“Bart does. Cassie, depends on the day. Tim is like a disappointed dad all the time anyway, so he doesn’t count.” Conner waved off. He returned his attention to Jon, whose attention seemed to be drifting off again. “Why do you ask, squirt?”

Jon frowned at the name, and that was new. Normally he didn’t mind the random nicknames his older brother gave him. “Because…I don’t…I don’t know. I don’t think…I want to be called Superboy anymore.”

Clark joined them at the table, sitting down carefully. “Why not?”

“Because, I’m not a boy anymore. I’m a teenager. I mean, I’m…I’m practically an adult!” Jon sounded exasperated already, like he’d had this conversation a million times. “It’s…it’s demeaning, and childish, and…and…”

He trailed off into a huff, slumping in his chair.

“I don’t even know if I want to keep the Super part, honestly.” Jon glanced at Clark. “Sorry, Dad.”

Clark shook his head, raising his hand. “None taken, Jonno.”

“Especially since I don’t feel all that super most of the time anyway.” He sighed.

“…If you want out of the life, Jon, I wouldn’t blame you.” Clark offered. “I’d love it, honestly. It’d just mean you’d be safer.”

“No, no. I want to be a hero. I want to help. I just.” Jon leaned back forward, hiding his face in his hands. “This is stupid. I feel stupid.”

Conner smiled and leaned forward, slapping his hand on Jon’s shoulder. “Not stupid. Pretty sure every hero has gone through it at least once in their tenure. Even Batman.”

“And he settled on Bat. Man.” Clark winked. “So obviously not all names are winners.”

Jon looked over to Clark. “…You’re not disappointed?”

“That you want a new codename? Not at all.” Clark grinned. “My only request is…don’t take over four years to decide something like Damian is.”

Jon smiled. “I’ll try.”

~~

“Maybe I’ll just go by Krypto.” Jon lamented from the bed. “He’s a dog, so I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“If you started going by Krypto.” Damian countered from the bathroom doorway. “I’m disowning you as my friend.”

Jon rolled to his side, deeper into the blankets. “What about as your potential bedmate?”

Damian’s face twisted, even as he came forward. “Christ, Jon. We haven’t even done anything, how do you still make that sound so dirty?”

“Because I know what annoys you. And if you’d just let me say boyfriend-”

“Which we are not officially.” Damian countered. “…Yet.”

“-Then I wouldn’t have to say things like bedmate, or friend with benefits.”

“We haven’t done anything, there is no benefit for either of us at this point.” Damian reiterated, even as Jon tugged at his arm when he got close enough. Damian sat on the edge of the bed, and almost smiled when Jon shimmied over to place his head in his lap. “Though I am finding your company less beneficial by the minute…”

Jon cackled, even as he felt Damian’s fingers twist into his hair. “Hey, if nothing else, I’m a good cuddle buddy, right?”

“My cat is better.” Damian shrugged. “Probably.”

“I’ll take the probably as a win.” Jon grinned. “…But hey, think about it this way.”

“Hm?”

“Even if I went by something dumb like Krypto, at least I picked a new codename.”

Damian frowned, and pulled his hand back. “For as charming as your parents are, neither of them taught you how to flirt properly, did they?”

Jon immediately pulled his arms out of the blanket, latching on to Damian’s waist. “You hate when I sidetrack a conversation. I was getting back on point.”

“…Fair.” Damian sighed. “I’ll allow it.”

“…Are you any closer to picking anything?” Jon asked. “According to Barry, you’re throwing off everyone’s betting pools.”

“I...have an idea.” Damian murmured, keeping his gaze away from Jon’s. “But I still need to think of a backup.”

“What? Why?” Jon asked.

“…Personal reasons.” Damian murmured. “And I don’t wish to get my hopes up.”

Jon watched him silently.

“But we aren’t talking about me.” Damian countered. “Have you thought of any other suggestions for yourself?”

“I don’t know. Something related to my dad, like Krypton? Or even like your dad – he named himself after what he was scared of, right? Or weakness. So, Kryptonite.” Jon listed. “Or maybe I should just be lazy and follow everyone else’s lead. Starman, or Sunguy or something stupid like that.”

“Hm. Well. Those are certainly…options.” Damian tilted his head apologetically. “I’d offer assistance, but…well…”

Jon laughed.

“Be my distraction instead, how about that?” Jon suggested instead. Without warning, he used his momentum to throw Damian back onto the bed, cocoon him in the blankets as he loomed overhead. “Because there’s totally a lot of other things I’d like to be doing than thinking of new codenames.”

Damian smiled as Jon leaned in for a kiss.

~~

He didn’t know how Damian had lasted four years without a name. It’d only been a few months for himself, a few months of not using any name, and he felt like he was going crazy.

He also felt like he was a total letdown.

He was a Kent, for crying out loud. Son of Superman and one of the world’s greatest journalists. And here, he couldn’t choose a name, couldn’t pick a damn word.

Not to mention, it was detrimental in the field. When he didn’t notice an enemy coming behind him, or someone needed his help – he had no name to be called. And they couldn’t just shout Jon.

How did Damian make it look so easy? Because Damian and his family were freaks. They all moved too in-sync, too well trained. They were like animals themselves – they didn’t need to speak, movement was like instinct. Communication could be silent, because all of them were always three steps ahead of each other.

He let out a guttural groan as he entered the apartment, slammed the door behind him a little too hard. Heard the squeak of the chair in his mother’s office as she stood to greet him.

“Hi honey.” She called, walking into the room. She took in the annoyance on his face and gave him a sympathetic, knowing grin. “It’s not the end of the world, Jon. Names aren’t that big of a deal. So long as you’re helping, who cares what your name is?”

“I know, I know.” Jon mumbled, kicking off his shoes. “I’m just frustrated. It shouldn’t be this hard! Why doesn’t anything feel right?”

“Because it’s not.” Lois shrugged simply, leading the way into the kitchen. She motioned for Jon to sit, and got out a mug for him. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. It might take a while, but – when you know, you know.”

Jon groaned again. “Mom, I love you – but that was literally no help whatsoever.”

“Sometimes, the truth isn’t helpful.” She laughed, pouring him a glass of ice tea. She set it in front of him, and kissed his head. “But if you’re really struggling with this…talk to your father. He’s helped a young hero or two discover a new path before. You’re no different just because you’re his son.” She paused. “In fact, I’m a little surprised Damian hadn’t told you.”

“Told me what?” Jon stomach nearly dropped. “Dad finally helped him decide on a name too?!”

“Of course not. Damian is as stubborn and tight-lipped as his own idiot of a father.” Lois rolled her eyes, but it was fond. “No, his brother – Dick.”

Jon blinked.

“Nightwing was a Kryptonian name. From the Kryptonian legend of Nightwing and Flamebird.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Even if you don’t want you father’s help on a name, ask him about the story. It’s very good.”

~~

Tim found Damian in the cave alone, and his gut immediately told him that something was off. Not wrong, but…not necessarily good.

“Hey.” He offered. “What’s up?”

Damian didn’t move from the computer chair. He looked too much like Bruce in that moment – slouched, hands steepled in front of his face, looking too thoughtful for someone so young.

“I’d like to talk to you.” Damian returned, just as vaguely.

“I’m all ears.”

Damian hesitated a moment. Dragged it to two. Tim was about to speak, to push the conversation along, when Damian sighed. “I…we didn’t do it right last time. And I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. Not here. Not with you.”

“…Damian?” Tim asked, moving towards him. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No, no. I just.” He sighed. “I wanted to ask your…opinion.”

“On?”

“I think I’ve chosen a new moniker to go by.” Damian murmured. “But I want to make sure I had permission first.”

“Permission?” Tim repeated, bewildered. “I mean…as long it’s not like Red Robin or Red Hood or something, I think you can go by whatever you wa-”

“Nightwing.”

Damian’s voice was so quiet when he said it, Tim almost thought he’d misheard, or that maybe Damian didn’t actually speak at all. That it was maybe a breeze, or a ghost.

But when Damian said nothing else, eyes still not on him, Tim realized he said exactly as he’d heard. “…Really?”

Damian nodded, but seemed to swallow a lump in his throat.

“I mean, those are quite some shoes to fill, especially after all these years, but…” Then Tim paused, replayed what Damian already said. “…Wait, why would you need my permission to use Dick’s old name?”

Damian still didn’t look at him. “Because last time I changed names, I took yours.” He frowned. “I stole yours.”

Tim shrugged. “It was over a decade ago. I know you and I have held a lot of grudges in our lives, but trust me. I’m over that one.”

“And I know Todd would never want Nightwing.” Damian continued as if Tim never spoke. “But…you were next in line. You loved Grayson like I did.” Finally, he looked up, eyes boring into Tim’s. “And you’d deserve it.”

Tim stepped back like someone had punched him in the chest. “Damian…”

“You do, and you know it.” Damian continued. “You’ve fought tooth and nail for respect in this family, for every title you’ve ever carried. You fought for your independence, and have thrived as Red Robin. In a way, you are everything Nightwing embodies, and you deserve the title most.” Damian’s gaze dropped once more. “And I don’t want to take that opportunity from you. Not like I’ve taken everything else from you too.”

Tim just stared.

“He would have chosen you himself. I know it. If he were…” Damian trailed off. Seemed to have to take a moment to compose himself. “…If he were still here.”

Tim lowered his own eyes at the thought. It’d been five years since their beloved older brother died. Despite what the world tried to say, time didn’t heal all wounds, and the loss of Dick Grayson was a wound that seemed almost infected now, especially for Damian.

The world was less without him. Less bright, less kind, less happy – less everything.

Just…less.

After a moment Tim smiled. Picked his head up and moved forward so he could crouch next to the chair, leaning his arms on it. Despite being twenty-three years old, Damian turned his head away so he didn’t have to look at Tim, just like a child.

“I don’t want Nightwing.” Tim said honestly. “I’m happy with where I am and what I’m doing. But I appreciate you asking. I’m…honored, in fact.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. I guess.” Damian mumbled.

“But I have to say I disagree with you.” Tim leaned his chin on his arms. “Dick wouldn’t have picked me to succeed him. He wouldn’t have picked anyone. But he would have been so proud to see you take it on after him.”

Damian closed his eyes, sucked his lips between his teeth.

“Because, for once, I’ll toot my own horn a little bit. I won’t disagree with you on this one. Maybe I do deserve the Nightwing name.” Tim admitted. “But I’m not the only one.”

Damian didn’t answer, but shook his head.

“You do too, Damian.” Tim reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. “You’ve overcome so much. You’ve done so much. And Dick was proud of you for it until the day he died. I know he was.”

Damian opened his eyes and looked at Tim. The tears immediately fell down his cheeks.

“And he’d be honored, knowing you wanted to follow in his footsteps, and carry on his legacy, for a second time.” Tim chuckled. “Especially after your first words to us when you were a kid was how badly you wanted to be Batman.”

“One day I still will be.” Damian blubbered with a laugh. Tim laughed too.

“I know.” He hummed warmly. “But that was all a long, surprisingly emotionally-charged way to say: while it’s not mine to give, yes you have my permission to become Nightwing.”

Even as his tears continued to fall, Damian stared at Tim for a few more seconds, before leaning forward and, once again to Tim’s surprise, enveloped his older brother in a hug.

“Thank you, Drake.” He whispered. Tim just let his smile widen as he held Damian just as tightly back. “Thank you so much.”

~~

“Tim told me Damian finally picked a new name.” Conner said one morning, as the two of them sat on a rooftop overlooking Metropolis. “…He also mentioned you two might be dating?”

Jon’s eyes widened slightly as he tried to keep his heart rate in check. Damian had told Tim?

“He hasn’t told me about choosing a name.” Jon said instead. “When did this supposedly happen?”

“The other day. Maybe he hasn’t made it official yet.” Conner shrugged. Then he grinned. “Though you’d think he’d tell his boyfriend about it anyway.”

Jon frowned. “We’re not dating.” A hesitation. “Officially.”

“Ooooh.” Conner mocked, scooting closer. “Tell me everything.”

Jon rolled his eyes, but laughed as he pushed Conner’s shoulder. “First off, not your business. And second, there’s nothing to tell? We hang out. We hold hands. We…do things.”

Conner wiggled his eyebrows.

“Stop.” Jon chuckled. “I just…like being with him. Being close to him makes me feel happy. Safe. All that cliché stuff.”

“Has he reciprocated?” Jon nodded. “Then why not official?”

“His choice. I think he feels like he’d be judged for having actual emotions or something.” Jon shrugged. “I also think he feels like he’s…not good enough? Or a bad person, or something, and is hoping I might find someone else before we’re legit.”

“Ouch.”

“It sucks, but…I get it.” Jon sighed. “And he just…has stuff going on. Mentally, I think.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we started flirting a little bit right before Dick died. So our whole relationship so far, romantically, he’s trying to deal with the loss, with the vacuum that loss created in his family, and growing in his role as a hero.” Jon listed. “He’s stuck in his own head so much that honestly I’m just happy when I can get him to smile some days.”

“That’s sweet.” Conner grinned. “And proof you’re head over heels.”

“I mean…did I ever deny that?” Jon grinned back, but it was sad. Conner’s own smile fell slightly.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Jon exhaled a bitter laugh. “That obvious?”

“Does he know?”

“I think so?” Jon thought out loud. “And I think that’s why he thinks himself such a terrible person.”

“Because he doesn’t love you back?”

“No, no. I think he absolutely does.” Jon said confidently. “It’s just like I said – he thinks himself as a bad person, and that I deserve better.”

“That’s…” Conner pursed his lips. “…quite the conundrum.”

“Yeah.” Jon smiled wistfully. “But anyway, the name. Did Tim say what name he chose?”

“Nope.” Conner kicked his feet against the building. “Tim said it was incredibly personal, and he wasn’t the one to share it.”

“Interesting.” Jon muttered. “Wonder what it could be?”

~~

He was twenty, very much an adult, but oh boy, did he feel like a rebellious teenager right now.

After all, how else were you supposed to feel when you and your not-quite-boyfriend were lying almost naked, cuddled up in your parents’ bed?

Somewhere in his mind he was panicking. If – when – they found out, he was doomed. He’d never live it down.

(But at the same time, it was also totally not his fault. Their apartment was closer to downtown than his was, and the room he still had here only had a single bed. There was no way they’d fit. And since his father was in space and his mother in the Philippines, the bed would have just gone to waste being empty, so…)

Though, simultaneously, any fear of repercussions was drowned out by the utter bliss he felt at being cocooned in Damian’s arms, and using his collarbone as a pillow while they watched the nightly news.

Under his ear, he felt Damian’s heartbeat slowing, a clear sign he was falling asleep. So it was the perfect time to ask:

“I hear you picked a new codename.”

Damian stirred a little and hummed, “Yeah.”

“What name did you pick, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Damian hesitated a moment, then whispered, “Promise you won’t laugh.”

“Never.”

“…Nightwing.” Damian answered sheepishly. Quietly, like he wasn’t allowed to say it. “I…decided to carry on Grayson’s legacy.”

Jon turned and looked up at him. Without thinking he cupped Damian’s cheek in his hand. “Oh, Damian, that’s wonderful.” Damian kept his gaze over Jon’s shoulder, face heating up in an embarrassed flush. “He’d love it, he’d be so happy.” He stroked his thumb across Damian’s skin. “I’m so proud of you.”

Damian snorted. “Nothing to be proud of. It took me five years to pick a name someone had already used.”

“For good reason.” Jon countered. “And an homage to a great man.”

Damian allowed himself to look at Jon now. He stared at him for a moment, taking in his face, then carefully took hold of Jon’s wrist, and leaned in for a kiss, which Jon ate up greedily.

After a moment, they separated, and Jon twisted back to stare at the TV, Damian’s arms still tight around him.

“…What about you?” Damian asked softly. “Any ideas?”

“I don’t know. Superdude is sounding better and better every day.” Jon said dryly. “But I guess I haven’t really been thinking about it either. Been focused on some other more important things lately.”

“Oh? Like what? School?”

Jon grinned, kept his eyes on the weather report now lighting up the room.

“You.”

Damian didn’t answer, but Jon felt him gently kiss his temple, and lean their heads together.

~~

“Mom said I should ask my dad.” Jon hummed as he paid for their coffee. “But we haven’t seen each other in a while, and you know more about Krypton and all that stuff than he does, you know?”

“Sure.” Kara smiled, taking her cup from his hand. “But that still doesn’t explain why you’re so interested in some old Kryptonian legend?”

“Just curiosity, mostly.” Jon shrugged. “Dad helped Dick Grayson become Nightwing back in the day, and now that Damian is taking the title on, I figured I should learn a little bit about it myself.”

“To support your future husband?” Kara smirked.

“Stop.” Jon groaned. “I should have never told Conner the truth.”

“I’m just glad to know you’re happy.” Kara squeezed his hand as they walked outside. “And also that I now have a viable reason to beat Damian up.”

“And that reason would be?”

“For the honor of my littlest cousin.” She winked. Jon found himself laughing. “Thanks for walking me back to the office, by the way. I’m sorry we couldn’t have lunch today.”

“I totally understand. I have to get back to campus for class soon anyway.” Jon waved off. “Rain check for a movie night, though?”

“Absolutely. Go buy a lot of tissues, wine and chocolate, because I am in the mood for some tearjerkers.” Kara demanded. “And…Damian is more than welcome to join us, if he’d like.”

“He’d never.” Jon promised as they jogged across a crosswalk. “But he’ll appreciate the invite.”

“Are you just saying that, or would he really?”

“Honestly, he really would.” Jon swore. “He’s trying not to take little things like that for granted anymore. Not since…well. You know.”

Kara frowned. “…I miss him too.”

“Everyone does.” Jon murmured as they stopped outside a building. Some people waved to Kara as they exited and jumped into a taxi nearby. “He was the best of all of us.”

“Give Damian my regards, and a hug for me. Tell him I’m sorry about Dick, if you think it’s appropriate.” Kara murmured as she turned to her purse, and began digging in it. After a moment, she held out a book. It looked old, and pages were misshaped, almost like they’d been gnawed on, or burned. “First, last and only edition.”

Jon took the tome, marveling at the etched green cover, and symbols seemingly floating around the image. But then he frowned. “Kara.” He sighed. “You know my Kryptonian isn’t that good.”

“Well then this will be a great tool to learn.” She smiled, squeezing his bicep. Someone suddenly called Kara from the door. She smiled and waved back before glancing to Jon. “Gotta go, kiddo. It was great seeing you! Tell your pops hi for me!”

She turned, and began to jog away, when Jon called after her. “Kara, wait!”

She did, glancing over her shoulder.

“Give me a quick summary?” He tried with a lopsided grin. “You know, to keep me interested?”

Kara twisted her lips in thought, then smiled. “Nightwing and Flamebird always find each other in the end.”

She took a sip of her coffee and disappeared into her office.

~~

By two o’clock in the morning that very night, Jon sat at the desk in his apartment, tears pouring down his face.

The legend was magical, breathtaking, awe-inspiring…but heartbreaking. The most heartbreaking thing he’d ever read.

But it also made him realize exactly what he needed to do. Exactly what his future was.

Exactly who his future was.

Without thinking, he wiped the tears from his eyes, and laughed as he stood, turning towards his window.

It would be a quick flight to Gotham, and surely Alfred was still awake at this hour.

~~

Damian stood on the top of Wayne Tower, staring at the city below him. The city he’d come to think of as home. The city that was…his.

He felt weird without the cape, without the hood. Was still getting used to the tight, plain bodysuit. The lighter armour. The dip of red across his chest.

He could take Grayson’s name, but he could never take his colors. That blue was too pure. Damian refused to taint it.

He inhaled and held his breath, then exhaled slowly. It was his first night in his new gear – would the villains know who he was? Would they mock him? Could he live up to his brother’s standards? Would he honor his memory?

“Damn.” He heard off to his side. “You look good.”

Damian glanced over, and found himself at a loss for words. The other man was in a similarly simple bodysuit, though instead of black, it was a deep blue. Opposite of the downward red arrow on Damian’s chest, the bright, near-blinding golden arrow on the other pointed upwards, almost looking like a phoenix rising from the ashes.

Damian stared for a moment, taking it in, before meeting Jon’s eyes. “This is new.”

“You like?” Jon asked, practically shy. “Alfred helped me make it.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.” Jon stepped forwards. His boots, which matched the shimmering yellow on his chest, seemed to flicker as he walked, like fire. “I mean, he helped make yours, and it’s only natural our designs match a little bit.”

“Why would they need to match?” Damian asked. Then he squinted. “Jonathan Kent, have you chosen a new moniker?”

“I did indeed.” Jon grinned. “Surely Dick told you how he got his name.”

“He did.”

“Did he tell you the story behind it?”

“He did not. But I’ve heard of it.” Damian found his voice going quieter, his throat drying up. “Your father told me, I believe.”

“Mhm.” Jon reached out, gently taking Damian’s hand in his, raising it between them. “And do you remember how it goes?”

Damian blinked, then smiled. “Refresh my memory.”

“Nightwing can’t exist without Flamebird.” Jon smirked. He pressed his lips to Damian’s knuckles. “And no matter the universe, no matter the situation, they always find each other in the end.”

“…Well, Flamebird.” Damian whispered softly. “I’m glad you found me.”

“I’m glad you found me too.” Jon stood back up. “Ready for our first official patrol in the new digs? Say goodbye to Robin and Superboy forever?”

“Do you want to call it our first official patrol?” Damian let his grin widen. “Or perhaps our first official date?”

Jon gaped at him, eyes wide and hopeful. “For real?”

“For real.” Damian promised. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting-”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Jon surged forward, wrapping him in his arms and lifting him off the tower’s ledge as he smashed their mouths together. Damian let his surprise linger for only a second, before grabbing both sides of Jon’s head and returning the gesture.

The moment felt like it lasted both an eternity and no longer than a blink. When they parted, they were both out of breath, and trembling from the emotional adrenaline.

“Flamebird.” Damian breathed as Jon lowered him, his hands still on Jon’s face. “I think I like it.”

“Good. Because I didn’t have any backups.” Jon chuckled.

“It suits you, I think.” Damian smiled.

“Nightwing suits you just as well.” Jon countered. “…Dick would be so proud.”

Damian just lowered his gaze, but allowed himself to keep smiling.

“…Well.” Damian exhaled, looking out into the city. “Shall we?”

Jon bowed, holding his arm out. “After you, ‘Wing.”

Damian laughed and turned, stepping off the building and allowing himself to freefall. “Follow me, ‘Bird.”

Jon smiled, and jumped right after him.

[myfriendthedictionary]

“Sharing is caring, now give me the hoodie!” + your favorite WATT relationship (romantic, platonic, familial) ?

“sharing is caring” - watt, annlark (plus annleigh & farrah sibling moments) - 820 words

“Sharing is caring! Now, give me the hoodie!”

The shriek from the second room on the right could be heard from practically everywhere in the O’Daniel residence. Both Mr. and Mrs. O’Daniel, who were well accustomed to the... antics... of their children at this point, chose wisely to ignore it.

Clark, hanging up his scarf by the front door, had to stifle a chuckle. He made his way easily into the family room where his girlfriend’s parents greeted him with bright smiles and waves. “I take it that Annleigh’s not quite ready for the movie, then?” The blond joked.

Mr. O’Daniel smiled warmly at Clark. “They’ve been at this for hours. Apparently, no one in this whole house has a darned outfit!” He rolled his eyes at his wife affectionately.

There was almost always some sort of noise in this household. It wasn’t as if it had that many members (although, at this point, Clark practically counted as a bonus son). It was more than each individual was known for having to be the loudest person in the room at any given time. Still, that was what was best about family, right? The loudness of it all. Family made you feel exhilarated and exasperated in a way no one else really could, but they always made you better for it.

“THOU SHALL NOT STEAL, FARRAH!! COMMANDMENT NUMBER EIGHT!”

Well, maybe not always.

The sound of running footsteps from upstairs drew the attention of the boy waiting in the living room. “Uh... maybe I should—“

“Oh yeah?! Where was that commandment when you took my gel pens last week, huh?” Farrah’s voice was more aggressive teasing than anything else, as if she was half amused by the fact this annoyed Annleigh. Honestly, Clark wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

In the living room, the girl’s father and stepmother continued to be very interested in their newspapers. Clark shifted his weight back and forth, wondering if he should risk going up there. On one hand, he was usually a lot better at calming down Farrah than her stepsister was. On the other, he might have a repeat of the Hairbrush Incident, and the poor boy wasn’t exactly ready fit that sort of experience.

As loud as Farrah could be, Annleigh could always be louder. “I borrowed your gel pens, and you said I could!!! Now, give my sweatshirt BACK—“

Alright, it was time to take action. “Wish me luck!” Clark waved jovially to his girlfriend’s parents, was given a mock salute in response, and then made his way up the stairs. The O’Daniels had a large, spiral staircase in the front hallway, so the noise from upstairs only grew with each passing step. There was now banging on a door, meaning that Farrah had apparently locked her sister out of her room, presumably with the treasured hoodie inside.

“Come on, give it back!! Clark’s gonna be here soon, and I need it to go!” Annleigh’s voice was more of a whine than a shout this time.

“Oh nooooo...!” Her sister teased, through the door. Clark again had to stifle his laughter. Farrah got under his girlfriend’s skin sometimes, but she was generally fairly well-intentioned. He had enough younger siblings to know that they only picked fights when they wanted attention. “Yeah, ‘cause you might freeze to death at the fucking Cinemark! What a crisis!” The younger girl’s eye roll was practically visible, despite the wooden door between her and the hallway.

“Come on, Farrah—“ Annleigh was jiggling her sister’s door handle as Clark entered the hall, so intently that it took her a moment to realize. “Clark...!” Her face morphed into a smile when she noticed him, something that still (even after all these year) made his heart flutter. “I’m sorry, someone’s being difficult. I’m almost ready to go, though.”

The noise of what sounded like Farrah sticking her tongue out came through the door.

Clark chuckled, slipping his hand into Annleigh’s. “It seems like she’s pretty set on keeping that jacket, my love... maybe we should try to get it back after the movie?”

It seemed reasonable enough to him, at least. Besides, it would win him points with Farrah. Clark didn’t think the girl hated him as much as she claimed, but that didn’t stop him from attempting to win good boyfriend points with her. As much as she would adamantly deny it, the younger girl could be protective over Annleigh. Clark didn’t ever want to do anything that would make anyone in the O’Daniel family think he wouldn’t protect her.

His girlfriend set her mouth in a pout. “What about if I get cold, though?” She huffed, but (thankfully) turned away from the door.

“Then,” Clark smiled and squeezed her hand, before shrugging off his own coat. With a practiced gesture, he swept it gracefully around his girlfriend’s shoulders. “I guess you’ll have to settle for mine!”

[101flavoursofweird]

Secret injuries would be interesting for some good Flora angst

((Thank you for the suggestion and I’m sorry this is late! I already used the ‘Secret Injuries’ prompt for Rook and Bishop whump... so I decided to add this to my new series about Flora— Put Yourself Back In The Narrative. It still contains Flora whump and angst... Flora secretly misses the professor and Luke, but Kat helps her realise that she’s not alone in that regard! This also contains some criticism of Layton’s decisions during the Relics investigation from Flora’s perspective. I hope that’s ok! 

Spoilers for the anime and most of the series below! It starts with Flora writing a couple of letters...))

- 

Em,

It's a relief to hear that the agency aren't involved... I still can't believe the professor never mentioned them! After everything you and Uncle have told me, I hope we never cross paths with those vultures. Don't worry— I memorised Grosky's phone number and I made sure Fen and Kitty did too.

Though, at the same time, it's disappointing that we've you've exhausted another lead. 

Where will you be investigating next? Is there anyone else who might hold a grudge against the professor? All of the people I can think of are in prison... well, except for one, but he wrote to me insisting he isn't the perpetrator. I'd be more inclined to believe him if he spoke to me in person!

Maybe you could come home and help us track him down? Kitty said she misses her favourite aunt!

And we could make up some better codenames while you're here.

You stay safe too!

Flora

-

To Our Wise Guardian,

Thank you for searching for our reclusive father and looking after our restless uncle.

I trust Miss Altava with my life. If she believes the agency aren’t to blame, then I believe her. I don't care what she did in the past anymore then I care about Uncle's past. She wants to find the professor just as much as he does.

Please remind Uncle of that, and don't let him burn down any trees. Climate change is a real thing.

If you aren't having any joy with the Azran sites, maybe you should take a break. (It sounds like Uncle needs it!) There’s a park just across the road from us where you could land the Bos airship.

Fen would love to talk to Uncle about this device he's been working on. And Kitty has been begging for some new books...

Until next time,

The Layton Clan

-

Dear Brenda & Clark,

We're doing alright here, though we'd be lost without Rosa!

Alfendi has been given some extra time to complete his end-of-year project. At Kat's last parents’ evening, her teachers said she can be quiet in class but other than that, they're pleased with her progress. 

Yes, Grandma Lucille is home now— we went to visit her and Grandpa Roland the other day. I just received Kuri is still with her family in Japan.

I feel awful for Marina's family... Please tell them that they're welcome here in England as well. I'm sure that wherever they are, Luke will protect Marina with his life.

...Arianna mentioned Tony's wedding. We'll all have to go dress shopping together. Kat's already decided she wants a yellow dress. (You might have some competition, Brenda!) Can Clark help Al choose a suit? He's a nightmare to shop for!

We can't wait to see you both. If you need help with the move, just give us a call.

Love,  

Flora, Al & Kat xoxo

-

Dear Arianna,

Don't worry about the late reply! You should see my desk— there are SO many letters I haven't even opened yet! I wish I really wish Luke was here. He’s so much more organised than I am...

I miss him too—

-

The ink was smudged from Flora’s tears. She tried to hide it by scribbling out the last line, but there was no saving the letter now. Sniffing, she crumpled the paper into a tight ball and threw it at her bedroom wall. She didn’t bother aiming for the overflowing plastic bin.

What a waste. If Alfendi or Kat had done that, she would have tutted at them. They couldn’t afford to be wasteful, even with the emergency savings their father had left them… 

Flora squeezed her black fountain pen (a twenty-first birthday gift from the professor), wishing she could snap it in half. 

He had planned for this. He knew he’d be gone for so long and there was a chance he would never return.

Flora hadn’t come to say goodbye to he and Luke the day they set off, but Rosa had. 

“What’s the point in searching for the girl’s father, after all these years? Why take the risk? Don’t you love Kat, Professor!?”

Yes, of course he did, but he wanted to solve the mystery behind her family. Solving a puzzle about a bunch of rocks was more important than raising his daughter, apparently. He had adopted Kat and now he was leaving her behind. 

Flora huffed out a tearful laugh. She, more than anyone, should have seen it coming. But she had believed (assumed) it would be different with Kat. 

The professor had taken Kat in when she was a tiny baby. A baby couldn’t be left home alone or sent to school. Parenting was a full-time job (as Flora was well aware these days). 

Luke had laughed when the professor first announced that he would be Kat’s father. 

Everyone, Flora included, had expected the majority of responsibility would fall on Rosa. Or, in Rosa’s absence, another eager friend or family member. (Grandma and Grandpa Layton, Uncle Desmond, the Monte d’Or gang…) The babysitting offers came flooding in much faster than when Alfendi was little. A newborn baby was far more appealing than a grief-stricken child.  

Flora would have helped look after her siblings even more, had she not been so busy preparing for university. 

But, in the professor’s defence, he had refused to take on any new cases and he had reduced his work hours. When he couldn’t escape his office at Gressenheller, he would bring Kat with him.

He had chosen the name ‘Katrielle’. It was an unusual name, but it went well with ‘Alfendi’. 

You would think eight-year-old Alfendi would be jealous of all the attention his new sister was receiving. It was quite the opposite. By spending more time with Kat, the professor spent more time with Alfendi; trips to the park, the library, the museum… 

Flora would join them whenever she got the chance. Kat was the glue that brought them all together. 

The professor had ‘officially’ adopted Katrielle Layton when she turned three. It seemed he had given up on finding her biological father…

And then Luke (Darn him!) had to stick his nose back in to the Relic Stones business. 

He had married Marina in secret just so they could move to England without the professor’s knowledge. Consequently, Flora had been kept in the dark too.

That hurt. After all these years, Luke still didn’t trust her. 

She could have assisted him with the investigation. She wouldn’t have told the professor… 

Luke had shut her out, along with Marina. (Poor Marina…)

Thankfully, Marina had sought out the professor as soon as Luke went missing. 

The idiot had gotten himself caught by Don Paolo. (Yes, a similar fate had befallen Flora once… when she was fifteen. Luke was twenty-five, trained in karate and he should have known better!)     

After Luke’s rescue, he was dragged back to the Layton household for a family reunion. Flora had given Luke an earful— “YOU DIDN’T INVITE US TO YOUR WEDDING AND THEN YOU ABANDONED YOUR NEW WIFE?!!”—before she hugged him. She had thought that would be the end of the whole Relics fiasco. 

She’d thought wrong.  

The professor had gotten involved after that. Family outings were pushed aside in favour of the Relics Stones. 

At Alfendi’s eighteenth birthday meal, the professor and Luke were trading research notes under the table. 

Flora found a house with her girlfriend, Kuri. The professor never once visited them, despite Flora’s many invitations. 

The day Luke left for his journey with the professor, Marina had called Flora, crying because she and Luke had fallen out. Flora had gone to comfort her. (That was the last time Flora had any contact with Marina.)

Flora didn’t blame Luke as much as the professor. Luke was a young man fresh out of university— reckless, full of heart and loyal to a fault. He had watched Kat’s birth mother die and now he wanted to scour the world for answers. But, as Arianna had said, the world was so vast… 

When Kat was born, Luke had been a student— too young to look after a baby by himself. So, the professor had accepted the role of being Kat’s parent. 

The professor couldn’t just adopt a child (three children) and run off ten years later. 

Kat wasn’t a puzzle that needed to be solved. She was a little girl.

A girl who never stopped eating sweets, but enjoyed going to the dentist if they would give her a sticker.  

A girl who still hoped Santa and the Easter Bunny were real, even if the Tooth Fairy was fiction. 

A girl who practiced her dad’s ‘detective’ poses in the mirror. 

A girl who didn’t like tea, but still insisted on drinking it.

A girl who could hold a heated debate with her older brother (eight years her senior).   

A girl whose family couldn’t afford a dog, so she stopped to pet every stray she met on the street. 

A girl who thought people would only befriend her because of her last name. A girl who feared those friends would leave her when they learned of her father’s absence. 

A girl who dreamed about her dad every night and woke up in tears.

A girl who was always trying to make her big sister smile…

“Hey, Floor…?” Kat knocked on Flora’s bedroom door, but she didn’t wait for Flora to answer. She burst in to see Flora wiping her eyes. Kat wondered, “What’s for dinner?” 

“I, erm… I thought we could have lamb stew,” Flora suggested, standing up from her desk chair. 

“Lamb stew? That’s Uncle Luke’s favourite!”

It was actually roast lamb… Flora could feel her eyes burning again. She turned away from Kat and tidied her desk. “I’ll be down in a minute,” she said distractedly. 

“I can help you clean up!” 

“Don’t worry, Kat—“

“Have you been writing more letters…?”

Flora glanced at Kat. Kat was picking up the ball of paper that had missed the bin— Arianna’s letter. Flora gasped, “Don’t...!”  

Kat, ever curious, smoothed out the letter and read it to herself. She frowned when she reached the end. 

Flora sighed. “No one was meant to read that…”

Kat carefully placed the letter on Flora’s desk. “I miss him,” Kat mumbled. “And Dad…” 

“I know…” Flora touched Kat’s head. “I do, too.” Her words were mainly intended to reassure Kat, but Flora meant it.

She missed them— both of them— so much. No matter how much they had pushed her away, she missed them and she wanted them back. 

“That’s okay,” Kat whispered, reaching up to grab Flora’s hand. She tugged Flora out of her bedroom and downstairs to where Alfendi was impatiently setting the table for dinner.  

Later, Flora would rewrite her letter to Arianna, signing off with: 

 …I miss him too. It’s okay if you ever want talk about it. I’ll be here. 

Sincerely, 

Flora 

[ftauriellas]

            chicago’s  very  own  auriella  yates  has  been  spotted  on  madison  avenue  driving  a  porsche  718  spyder  ,  welcome  !  your  resemblance  to  jasmine  tookes  is  unreal  .  according  to  tmz  ,  you  just  had  your  twenty - fifth  birthday  bash  .  your  chance  of  surviving  new  york  is  uncertain  because  you’re  guileful  ,  but  being  unadulterated  might  help  you  .  i  think  being  a  virgo  explains  that  .  three  things  that  would  paint  a  better  picture  of  you  would  be  the  lingering  scent  of  her  perfume  on  crisp  white  sheets  ,  the  soft  touch  of  short  satin  dresses  against  her  thighs  ,  and  the  soft  glistening  of  diamonds  during  golden  hour  .

            hi  again  ,  kitty  gorls  !  it’s  jin  showing  up  on  your  dash  for  the  last  time  with  my  sweet  peach  miss  auriella  yates  .  she’s  a  rendition  of  a  hailey  b  .  chara�� that  i  have  ,  so  she’s  quite  the  mess  ,  but  as  lovable  as  ever  !  as  you’ve  probably  figured  ,  i  didn’t  have  much  muse  for  guiliana  anymore  so  i  decided  it  was  best  to  let  her  go  and  bring  someone  else  (  also  ,  i’m  really  sorry  about  not  fulfilling  that  starter  call  .  please  don’t  hate  me  🥺  )  .  my  muse  is  soaring  for  auriella  so  be  prepared  for  me  to  slide  into  your  dm’s  for  plotting  up  a  storm  !  that  being  said  ,  here’s  another  long  one  !

basic  information  .

FULL  NAME  :  auriella  kaia  yates  .

NICKNAME(S)  :  auri  ,  mostly  .

BIRTHDATE  +  AGE  :  september  9th  ,  1997  +  22  .

ZODIAC  :  virgo  .

HOMETOWN  :  chicago  ,  il  .

GENDER  :  cis  female  .

NATIONALITY  :  american  .

ETHNICITY  :  african  american  ,  brazilian  ,  west  indian  , barbadian  ,  and  european  .

HEIGHT  :  5′5″  .

LABEL(S)  :  the  harlequin  ,  the  trust  fund  baby  ,  the  vainglorious  ,  the  coquette  ,  and  the  sovereign  .

ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION  :  biromantic  .

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION  :  bisexual  .

LANGUAGE(S)  SPOKEN  :  english  and  learned  basic  french  in  high  school  .

OCCUPATION  :  socialite  ,  makeup  artist  ,  and  businesswoman  .

POSITIVES  :  impulsive  ,  alluring  ,  unadulterated  ,  facetious  ,  and  melodious  .

NEGATIVES  :  complaintive  ,  acquisitive  ,  guileful  ,  starry - eyed  ,  and  bellicose  .

biography  .

            auriella  yates  is  the  sixth  child  of  eight  ,  born  to  simone  and  joshua  yates  in  the  windy  city  of  chicago  ,  illinois  .  she  has  three  older  brothers  (  chance  ,  charles  ,  and  clark  )  ,  two  older  sisters  (  adriana  and  amelia  )  ,  and  a  younger  brother  and  sister  (  calvin  and  aurora  )  .  patrick  and  simone  for  some  reason  found  joy  in  naming  their  sons  with  c  names  and  their  daughters  with  a  names  ,  but  it  works  for  them  nonetheless  .  the  family  could  afford  such  a  grandiose  lifestyle  in  chicago  thanks  to  simone’s  lifestyle  and  wellness  brand  called  honey  &  lemon  (  goop  ,  who  ?  )  that  has  since  expanded  from  a  newsletter  to e - commerce  ,  pop - up  shops  ,  a  magazine  ,  and  a  podcast  .  patrick  ,  on  the  other  hands  ,  is  a  famous  vegetarian  chef  that  has  launched  three  cookbooks  while  also  having  his  own  cooking  series  on  the  food  network  along  with  a  cookware  partnership  at  target  .  together  ,  they  own  a  vegetarian  restaurant  in  downtown  chicago  called  lemongrass  .

            growing  up  ,  since  auriella  had  so  many  siblings  ,  she  never  had  an  uneventful  day  .  their  parents  strongly  believed  in  their  children  playing  outside  instead  of  being  stuck  in  front  of  the  television  all  day  ,  so  they  often  took  advantage  of  their  large  backyard  when  they  lived  in  the  suburbs  of  chicago  .  they  were  the  parents  who  let  their  rowdy  bunch  ruin  their  perfect  grass  because  they  wanted  to  play  in  the  mud  .  their  parents  may  have  afforded  them  luxuries  that  others  didn’t  have  and  while  their  parents  had  been  busy  people  ,  patrick  and  simone  refused  for  their  children  to  be  raised  by  nannies  .  they  were  heavily  involved  with  everything  that  their  children  did  ,  ranging  from  their  pre - school  graduations  to  their  high  school  proms  .

            auriella  had  always  been  a  rather  outgoing  girl  throughout  high  school  ,  and  she  knew  she  was  cute  so  she  started  an  instagram  page  when  she  was  about  thirteen  or  so  .  originally  ,  her  pictures  were  just  cringey  dirty  mirror  pics  and  photos  with  her  friends  ,  but  as  she  explored  the  app  more  and  more  ,  she  discovered  makeup  and  her  love  for  it  !  so  ,  despite  the  terrible  youtube - tutorial  makeup  that  she  tried  to  recreate  ,  auriella  never  gave  up  on  her  ability  to  do  better  .  as  she  moved  through  high  school  ,  her  makeup  skills  got  better  and  better  ,  so  once  she  graduated  ,  auriella  knew  what  she  wanted  to  do  in  life  !

            she  went  on  to  attend  make  up  first  in  chicago  ,  and  obtained  certificates  in  basic  makeup  i  +  ii  ,  media  makeup  ,  and  media: runway  ,  editorial  ,  and  fashion  .  once  she  was  finished  with  her  schooling  ,  auriella  went  on  to  grow  her  brand  and  get  her  name  out  there  .  she  used  instagram  a  majority  of  the  time  ,  and  thanks  to  that  and  word  of  mouth  ,  she  grew  a  significant  following  and  went  on  to  have  a  few  celebrities  under  her  belt  .  thanks  to  the  help  of  her  parents  ,  auriella  decided  that  she  wanted  to  get  into  the  makeup  business  entirely  ,  and  decided  to  stick  her  foot  into  makeup  production  .

            the  brand  originally  only  focused  on  her  favorite  thing  :  eyeshadow  palettes  !  the  palettes  were  originally  rather  small  ,  consisting  of  four  to  six  colors  as  they  perfected  the  formula  .  she  eventually  began  to  receive  rave  reviews  and  decided  that  it  was  time  to  expand  into  everything  else  :  mascaras  ,  lip  products  ,  foundations  ,  blushes  ,  highlighters  and  everything  else  under  the  sun  .  from  there  ,  kaia  beauty  is  now  being  sold  in  sephora  ,  ulta  ,  and  on  kaiabeauty.com  !  she  had  the  second  largest  foundation  drop  (  following  fenty  beauty  because  we  stan  miss  rihanna  in  this  house  )  .  

            that  being  said  ,  running  her  own  business  is  one  that  auriella  is  still  getting  used  to  despite  it  being  two  years  since  the  launch  .  she’s  thankful  for  the  expansion  of  her  brand  and  she’s  still  working  out  of  her  townhouse  because  she  hasn’t  found  the  perfect  space  for  a  headquarters  just  yet  !  it’s  one  of  her  biggest  dreams  at  the  moment  and  she  wants  to  expand  kaia  beauty  into  skincare  but  the  end  of  the  year  .  

personality  .

the  label  she  mostly  identifies  with  would  definitely  be  the  harlequin  .  she  can  be  really  loud  and  playful  at  times  ,  and  she  can  easily  get  called  out  for  not  taking  things  seriously  .  

at  the  same  time  ,  though  ,  she  can  be  pretty  sexual  in  her  speech  .  she  has  no  problem  with  people  looking  at  her  differently  for  doing  so  .  she  really  lets  a  lot  of  things  roll  off  of  her  shoulders  ,  but  she’d  be  a liar  if  she  said  that  some  things  didn’t  get  to  her  .

auriella  can  be  really  full  of  herself  and  simple  compliments  can  typically  leads  to  her  going  on  and  on  about  herself  ,  so  please  feel  free  to  shut  her  up  at  any  given  time  !  much  like  anyone  her  age  ,  she  can  be  found  prowling  around  on  instagram  or  twitter  and  can  never  go  shopping  without  taking  at  least  three  to  seven  mirror  selfies  .

headcanons  .

she  lives  in  a  beautiful  townhouse  on  west  fourth  street   and  she’s  really  proud  to  say  it  because  she  bought  it  with  her  own  money  !  she  likes  to  be  different  so  she  really  hates  range  rovers  and  instead  drives  an  audi  q5  !  sounds  kinda  dumb  since  she  lives  in  nyc  ,  but  she  likes  it  because  it  gives  her  freedom  to  go  where  she  wants  when  she  wants  to  .

she  never  leaves  the  house  without  a  purse  and  never  without  a  pair  of  earrings  on  (  she  thinks  she’s  ugly  without  them  ) .  she’s  obsessed  with  all  things  cartier  and  she  loves  to  accessorize  ,  but  not  to  much  .  she  keeps  scrunchies  in  her  purse  at  all  times  ,  so  if  you  need  one  just  ask  !

when  it  comes  to  her  style  ,  i  draw  a  lot  of  inspiration  from  instagram  if  i’m  being  honest  .  she  wears  a  lot  of  denim  shorts  ,  oversized  tees  ,  cropped  sweaters  ,  bodysuits  ,  chunky  sneakers  ...  honestly  ,  the  whole  nine  yards  .  for  some  examples  click  x  ,  x  ,  x  ,  x  ,  x  ,  and  x  .

she’s  been  vegetarian  since  she  was  a  kid  because  that’s  all  her  dad  ever  cooked  !  sometimes  the  scent  of  meat  makes  her  sick  and  sometimes  she  fakes  it  so  people  will  leave  her  alone  .  she’s  definitely  the  one  who  shows  up  to  the  function  with  her  fake  burgers  ,  but  you  know  she  has  a  bottle  of  vodka  along  with  it  .

finds  joy  in  doing  the  little  things  ?  she’s  not  the  greatest  at  art  but  really  enjoys  buying  a  canvas  and  trying  her  best  to  recreate  or  create  something  !  probably  gets  a  lot  of  art  ideas  from  tik  tok  (  those  kids  are  seriously  talented  )  and  really  likes  to  do  her  makeup  even  when  she  has  no  place  to  go  .  she  loves  laying  on  her  couch  and  doing  nothing  (  and  sometimes  she  might  be  kinda  naked  when  she  does  it  )  .

secret  .

okay  so  ,  auriella’s  secret  is  that  an  ‘  anonymous  ’  source  leaked  her  nudes  to  the  press  ,  but  her  parents  paid  off  publications  from  releasing  them  .  that  was  mostly  done  because  she  was  about  17 / 18  in  those  pictures  but  of  course  they’re  not  age  on  them  so  there’s  that  !  the  source  of  course  wasn’t  that  anonymous  and  it  turned  out  to  be  an  ex  (  which  is  really  gross  so  this  won’t  be  a  wanted  connection  )  ,  but  she’s  not  ashamed  of  them  by  any  means  !

[plethoraofocs]

so the origins of my first star trek ocs

so, i watched aos first. and i loved it because it was my introduction to star trek and the characters and i recently realised it’s v problematic and stuff so i watched tos. and this is a super long and needlessly complex explanation of how my first three star trek ocs (dottie, clarke, and taylor) came to be! more on them as individuals to come :) (i did give the broad strokes of their backstories in here so it’s a long post. i’ll put the basic parts in bold so you can skip the boring bits that i just rambled in

my first character, i made for the aos timeline, but shifted her over to the tos timeline without much hassle. 

her name is dorothy (dottie) jane negga, and she was born on the lunar colony to her human parents, as their third child born on the moon (one brother, one sister). they moved back to earth (specifically the greek countryside, which i need to do more research on, sorry) where they started an olive farm (neither of her parents come from greece nor do they have a background in farming, but her oldest brother took a horticultural course on the colony so he gets it up off the ground). she has a supportive and wholesome background (which was difficult for me to write because there was so much opportunity to give her a Tragic Backstory but i need to stop doing that so much lmao), two younger siblings (another sister, and a non-binary sibling). of the five siblings, she is the only child who didn’t want to work full-time on the farm, and the family helped put her through starfleet academy, where she took the command route with various piloting qualifications before being assigned to the enterprise as ‘ensign dorothy negga’ due to her exceptional academic success as well as her fantastic interpersonal skills. 

next up was my second star trek oc, someone i had a vague impression of while watching aos but fleshed out and named while watching tos. her name is s’on ahkhu clarke (i don’t know how vulcan names work i’m so sorry), and she is half-vulcan, half-romulan. in my tos timeline, her father (a weaver of cloth on vulcan) was tricked into thinking her mother (a notorious romulan captain attempting to infiltrate the vulcan high council) was an ambitious young vulcan with no social standing trying to work her way up. he fell in love, she went with it. they had a child together, her mother using it to further secure herself in vulcan society, but she was found out shortly afterwards and escaped back to romulus. clarke’s father raised her alone until she was eight years old, when her mother began correspondence with the vulcan high council over custody of the child. eventually, her father was forced to let her travel to romulan space every other year for a year to stay with her mother. her mother was, by then, captain of a mixed-species, all female, space equivalent of a pirate ship. while she found the practices of stealing, torturing, and murdering not only illogical, but deplorable, her mother told her that if she did not assist in running the ship, she would not permit her to return to vulcan. eventually, she joined starfleet academy during one of her years where she was supposedly ‘on vulcan’, and she managed to partially cut ties with her parents. she was just shy of being legally an adult on vulcan when she arrived at the academy, and was put in accommodation with the equally young cadet dorothy negga. the two became oddly co-dependant despite their wildly different personalities, and their symbiotic study relationship assisted them both in getting grades good enough to be assigned to the enterprise upon their graduation. clarke is a redshirt, but is exceptionally skilled with various types of defensive and offensive attacks from her time spent with her mother, so don’t worry, she’s safe. also : no-one is sure whether or not they were doing the do on the regular in the academy or not, and they won’t comment on the discourse.    

last, and definitely not least (lowkey my favourite of the og 3) we have taylor jones. taylor is... pretty weird, im not gonna lie. so i came up with her in pretty much the same way as i did clarke, a vague idea during aos that solidified during tos, she just took longer to nail down. the enterprise is in full swing by the time she gets introduced during a typical ‘away mission gone wrong’ type situation. she’s quite animal-like, she can’t speak, she’s afraid of everyone (except clarke and spock because telepathy and shit), she is telepathic and empathetic, but doesn’t seem to understand language. she’s in bad nick, and she’s the only survivor of a life-support systems failure of a starfleet-scientist-gone-off-the-rails’s illegal experimentation subterranean lab on a class-m planet. turns out he’d been deliberately inter-breeding species (humans, vulcans, orions, romulans, betazoids, ect) in order to create species perfectly designed to suit various jobs he needed doing to sustain himself on the planet. taylor was designed as basically a poorly treated PA, engineered for and trained to anticipate and fulfil his needs through a combination of telepathy, empathy, and a scarily fast learning and adaptation ability. with the help of clarke, they manage to get her aboard the ship and into medbay, where she (for some reason) practically imprints on dr.mccoy. dr.mccoy nurses her back to health (she won’t let any of the other medical staff near her) and begins to teach her how to communicate verbally, while clarke refuses to leave her side as she takes her time to teach taylor how to control her telepathy and how to refine telepathic communications. when they found her, she didn’t have a name, so they assigned her the name ‘taylor jones’. as well as this, leonard and clarke have to try and untrain her from her need to assist everyone on every little thing. she went missing for the first week she wasn’t locked in medbay as she raced around the ship frantically trying to meet everyone’s smallest whims, only being recovered when kirk was feeling mildly thirsty and she showed up on the bridge with a glass and a pitcher full of water (she got the hang of replicators and other technologies pretty fast, it was what she was genetically predisposed to do, after all). she proves to be quite useful on away missions, as she develops an interest in science (much to mccoy’s disgust, he’d enjoyed teaching her about anatomy and first aid, and is loathe to share her with spock), and kirk appoints her to the role of ‘acting ensign’.    

now this is where my inexcusable surplus of star trek ocs kicks in.

i realised that it’d be pretty dope to make my own starship crew, like, a whole ass crew. but i dont know enough about star trek too avoid continuity errors and shit. so i decided to start my own star trek “series” set approximately fifty years after whatever star trek series is the furthest in the future (so, like, picard, right? idk the timelines im a Bad Fan). the basics for these three are the same, except they start out on another enterprise namesake (enterprise-j) as the flagship of starfleet, where the senior officers (i’ve yet to flesh them out fully) are NOT (obviously) the og bridge crew. eventually, taylor decides to travel to earth to get her qualifications from the academy while the other two girls finish out their ‘explore strange new worlds, to seek out new life and new civilisations’ mission. taylor graduates the academy just as that mission ends, and is assigned to a research vessel that will be doing more in-depth research on planets/phenomena encountered by the enterprise-j as ensign jones, under captain dorothy (she insists on being called dottie) negga. clarke gets the position of cheif of security. there are many more charcters on board this ship. i still have more i need to make because i want to make an oc for as many of the people needed onboard as possible. 

[backdeck-potato-novelist]

I Get the Feeling that I’m Right Where I Belong

Chapter 5

AO3

Beginning, Previous, Next

There were exactly three good things Damian could identify about his father sending him  to Paris for a month.

First, he would be away from his brothers and sisters for a month. He loved all of them (and would never tell any of them), but he was also very relieved to be somewhere else for a bit. Tim and Cass where the only other ones who still lived at home with him, but everyone else was always coming by the manor at the most random hours. Some time away would do him well.

Second, he would be out of school for a month. He may only be eighteen and still in high school, but his training with the League of Assassins had put him years ahead when he was younger, and he had continued many of the mental exercises his mother had taught him to remain ahead.

Third, and by far the most important, was that he would get to see his angel Marinette in person for a whole month. They hadn’t been able to see each other much over winter break because of her family vacation, so he was planning on making up for it with as much time as possible now.

As he found out less than half a minute after processing his father’s declaration, the first two points were moot.

“The official story is that Tim is going to Paris for Wayne Enterprise’s business, and you are going along as a young adult excited to get a chance to see the world. I am attempting to coordinate with the local authorities for you to enter public school for the duration of your stay, but if that falls through, I will be expecting you to keep up with your Gotham Academy studies.” Bruce Wayne paced back and forth in front of his youngest son.

Damian sighed, leaning back into the couch. “And the actual reason?” At least he would get to see Marinette. Given that she could also make her way across the city in two minutes flat, he’d make the time no matter the mission.

“League business. The word on akumas got out, and quite a few people want to go rushing in.” Damian winced. Having some of the most emotionally repressed and powerful beings on Earth go sprinting headlong into a warzone overrun by a terrorist who weaponizes anger, rage, and guilt would go very badly. That was why, when Ladybug and Chat Noir had first accidentally attacked Robin two years ago, and upon realizing their mistake, had explained the situation to him, Batman and Wonder Woman had agreed to tell as few people as possible. Superman had been brought into the loop quickly, and Martian Manhunter figured it out almost immediately after. Red Robin discovered what was going on during one of his routine system upgrades in the Watchtower where he may or may not have been looking through some locked files and may or may not have immediately told all of his brothers and sisters. Dick told Kori, Diana told Hippolyta who probably told the rest of the Amazons, and Clark told Lois, who then told Jon, but as far as Batman could tell, no one else had told anyone. The more people who knew, the more likely someone with innate superpowers would go and get a rage-powered evil upgrade. It was better to keep it quiet, ish.

“Who spilled?”

“We’re not sure. It’s likely someone accidentally stumbled upon the reconnaissance notes, but there’s a chance someone pulled a Tim, and it’s also possible someone found out entirely outside of the League. Family or friends, maybe. Either way, people want us to go in.”

“So Tim and I are a cover.” It was definitely a statement, not a question. Bruce nodded anyway.

“Diana and I already prepared notes for you to “bring back,”” Bruce air-quoted. “You can add to them as you see fit, but it’s preferable that you don’t delete anything.”

Damian thought for a moment. It would, by any measure, be relatively easy to do pretend recon for a month. And he could find a way to work with his girlfriend and her team to make it seem even more realistic, as he actually rather enjoyed spending time with them. Making time for his angel just got quite a bit easier. “These notes, they don’t mention anything about Marinette, yes?”

“Nothing about Marinette.” Damian released the breath he had been unknowingly holding in. Bruce sat down on the couch next to him and patted his shoulder. “Nothing about any of their identities. For all intents and purposes, no one knows who these mysterious Parisian heroes are. They’re a separate superhero organization that the Justice League has to jurisdiction over, technically speaking.”

“Good. They’re just a couple of random no-name superheroes across an ocean,” Damian said, and then he snorted. “Although, I’m pretty sure if it came down to it, Team Miraculous could probably take the League in a fight. They have significantly more gods on their side.”

“Maybe. In either case, we are avoiding mentioning the Kwamis, if possible.”

“Right. Fewer details, less reason to panic.” Bruce nodded and sat down on the couch next to his son, and the two settled into a comfortable silence. In the eight years Damian had lived with his father, he had fit in with the hectic day to day life very well. He could keep up with his siblings easily, but with his father, he preferred the quiet calm.

After a minute or so, he broke the silence. “So, when do we leave?”

“Tonight. You fly out in five hours,” Bruce said. Damian glanced at his father. This was on very short notice. While Gotham definitely perceived Batman as being rather impulsive, both sides of Bruce Wayne much preferred to take things slow. Plans were planned, steps were enacted one by one in controlled situations, because the Bat always has control of the situation, and the results were carefully calculated and reliably accurate. Sending a recon mission, even a fake one, on such short notice for such a long term problem, was out of character. Unless he wanted Damian and Tim out of the house. But this was definitely more than that.

“That’s not much time, Father,” Damian replied. “This may be a, well, a fake mission, but that’s very short notice.” Bruce winced, and Damian knew he had struck the right chord. “Unless, of course, this has been in the works for some time now.”

“It has,” Bruce nodded sheepishly. “I’ve been planning on sending you and Tim for a week. Clark, Diana, and I have been negotiating, per say, with the rest of the League on how we will be going about this. Trust and morale are not doing so well right now.” He paused, but didn’t look at Damian. “I didn’t want to tell you until I had all the details.”

“Then I should get packing.” Damian stood up to make his way up to his room. “I won’t let you down, Father.” As he got to the door of the parlor, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to his father.

“Thank you, Damian,” Bruce said. “Thank you.” Damian nodded, and left the room. 

Bruce released a sigh. Tim probably wouldn’t take the sudden scheduling so well.

[etatmagique]

❝ screw that book, it was written by men. [...] we’re rewriting it. ❞

( jessica alba, cis woman, she/her ) · you know, the gossip in new york city is insidious and gossip about a pureblood like geneviève “gen” ramos-tremblay seems to constantly be afloat. what i know for a fact, though, is that they’re a thirty-eight year oldjournalist who graduated as a thunderbird from ilvermorny. apparently that inclines them to be a bit inquisitive and generous when she rolls out of bed in the morning. as a member of the resistance (inner circle), i feel bad that they’ve resorted to taking up the moniker mariposa. ( always doing the best for your kids, not only by helping them directly, but also by making the world a better place for them; always being the best listener in the room, and letting people talk rather than constantly asking questions; constantly trying to keep plants alive and yet never succeeding, no matter how much you appreciate them and try your best to take good care of them; keeping your wedding dress in a box at the back of your closet and looking at it every few months to remember one of the best days of your life & trying to keep up with all the current trends as you don’t believe that just because something was good in the past makes it better than what’s happening now / sam )

— ♡ CHARACTER PARALLELS ( MOST LIKE ) :: Helen Parr ( The Incredibles ) + Padme Amidala ( Star Wars ) + Martha Jones ( Doctor Who ) + Eragon ( The Inheritance Cycle ) + Princess Peach ( Super Mario Bros ) + Pepper Potts ( Marvel ) + Clarke Griffin ( The 100 ) + Matilda Wormwood ( Matilda ) + Nancy Wheeler ( Stranger Things ) + Belle ( Beauty and the Beast ) !!

— ♡ CHARACTER PARALLELS ( LEAST LIKE ) :: Nick Miller ( New Girl ) - Homer Simpson ( The Simpsons ) - Harley Quinn ( DC Comics ) - Gollum ( The Lord of the Rings ) - Tarzan ( Tarzan ) - Dwight Schrute ( The Office ) - Gina Linetti ( Brooklyn Nine-Nine ) - Sadness ( Inside Out ) - Patrick Star ( SpongeBob SquarePants ) - The Master ( Doctor Who )

TRIGGER WARNINGS THAT CAN BE FOUND BELOW THE CUT: None I can think of.

STATS PAGE + CONNECTIONS + PINTEREST BOARD

i’m too lazy to do a tldr at the end rn so if you want one, just ask me when we’re plotting and i’ll do one for you on the spot !

backstory.

Geneviève was born in Montréal, and has been trilingual (Spanish, French & English) ever since she was ten years old. English was the last of the three languages she learned, not having ever spoken it at home, but it was very important to her parents for her to be fluent in all three languages.

Her parents were artists. Her mother was a prolific French-Canadian author, and her father was a Mexican-American drummer in a wizarding band that had formed in Montréal. They always encouraged creative expression in their children, yet never pressured them to perform in a certain way or at a certain level. They just believed that creativity was one of the best ways to learn to interact with the world.

Geneviève is the oldest of three siblings, but her parents never made her feel like she was “responsible” for her younger siblings. Her mother was also the oldest of her siblings, and had grown up with a lot of pressure on her shoulders because of that, and Geneviève’s parents didn’t want to make her go through that, too. (Her siblings might be wanted connections; I’m not sure yet).

Always a curious child, Geneviève was constantly asking questions growing up. She wanted to understand not only the world, but the people around her. She talked a lot, yes, yet she also listened deeply when others spoke. Not when she was super little, of course, but as soon as her parents realized that she was very inquisitive, they started teaching her the way to listen well to the answers she got.

After Ilvermorny, she traveled around the world for two and a half years, wanting to learn about different cultures and make her own experiences. She dreamt of becoming a journalist, and she thought it would be a good way to expose herself to learning. Plus, she got a deal with a small magazine that paid a bit of her expenses in exchange for articles, and though she now realizes they kind of took advantage of her, she doesn’t regret the experience.

After coming back, she started doing freelance journalism, and did so for a little while. It wasn’t until the age of thirty-one that she settled down at one newspaper, The New York Ghost, preferring the way they ran their business.

Her wife proposed to her when she was twenty-three years old, a year and a half after the two got together. It was kind of funny, really, because Gen had bought an engagement ring for her girlfriend already and was also thinking of proposing. A year later, they got married, and are still together to this day. 

Her wife will be a wanted connection, but basically, she comes from money and inherited a Manhattan penthouse from one of her richer uncles when he died, where she now lives with Gen and their three kids. She also has a high-paying job, which explains why the two can afford to remain in such an expensive place.

They adopted their first kid when Gen was twenty-eight years old, and have adopted two more kids since. Their two oldest are currently studying at Ilvermorny, whilst their youngest lives with them all year long at the moment.

present day.

Gen and her wife adore their kids, and would do absolutely anything for them. The five of them are a very close-knit family, and Gen’s main reason for being so involved in the resistance, along with just wanting to do what she knows is right, is that she wants to make the world a better place for them.

Gen’s a giving person who tends to put others first, and though she’s learned how to prioritize herself with time, she still cares a lot about others, and shows kindness to all. Except for those who don’t deserve it, aka the kind of people who started this whole mess.

She’s maybe not the most skilled fighter, but she knows a good amount of defensive magic. Her strength, though, is definitely recruitment, and getting people together to discuss things. She’s also a pretty good diplomat during meetings of the Resistance, and loves getting as involved as can be.

personality.

Gen’s very inquisitive, not just on the job, but in general. She loves learning about others, and listening to what they have to say. She needs to understand things, and not just accept them as they are without an explanation. 

Quite stubborn, if she sets her mind to something, good luck changing it. She’s strong-minded, and will always stand up, not only for herself, but also for what is right.

She’s also very loving, and affectionate. Her affection is reserved to those close to her, though, but she’s still very kind to others. She won’t hesitate to call you out on your bullshit, though. She’ll just do it in a way that she hopes won’t hurt you. Unless, of course, you’re a dick.

[xiucas]

                                       “媽咪, 我哋要去哪裡?”                                   mama, where are we going?

a - “i’m american, actually.”

it’s quite often that people mistake joshua for being foreign by good ol’ fashion assumptions of race. while he was originally born in hong kong, joshua was adopted by an american family when he was four years old. 

b - brave

while he would never consider himself to be as such, joshua is the first person to jump in defense of those he cares for. and on top of that, he goes into haunted buildings for a hobby/living so he isn’t exactly easy to spook.

c - “our last name is clark.”

he was adopted at four years old, raised within a large family of other adopted siblings. it was strange, having to learn a new language and take on a whole new life. and that new life began with a new name. huang li jie became joshua clark.

d - dishi

dishi, a beloved stuffed rabbit he brought to boston with him after the adoption was finalized. it is the only keepsake he possesses that was given to him by this birth mother. it has been repaired so often, joshua has lost count how many times his mom stitched him back together. now that he’s on his own, the young man has taken up the repairs on his own. he plans to die with that rabbit by his side.

e - eight

it was around eight years old that the nightmares finally started to fade, a relief to his family as it had been difficult to endear. years of this tiny soul crawling into beds that he could find, seeking comfort from whomever would give it to him. perhaps not every night, but consistent. the wet streets disappeared, the incoherent rabble of cantonese shouting ebbed away. and the tears evaporated upon a face he had begun to forget.

f - “you are my best friend.”

he had always felt on the outs growing up, always being the weird kid that talked too much and made people question if he was normal or not. it took him ages, but in school he found someone to trust, someone who didn’t treat him like a freak. elliot kelly was there for him through his awkward stages up through his present as he embarks on adulthood with a college degree under his belt and a dream of youtube stardom. if there is one person on earth that he would call his most trusted and best friend, it’s him.

g. “ghosts, man! ghosts!”

it had started as a joke, a passing conversation of what it would be like to have it. and then it became a reality when joshua came home one day with a new expensive camera and a passion to take a chance. who cares if it didn’t pan out, it would be fun just to mess around with the idea and maybe have a good time doing it. besides i mean, ghosts, man! ghosts!

h - “hauntings aren’t always about apparitions and cold spots. sometimes it’s just a feeling.”

during his internship at a tech company, the channel began to pick up traction and with the addition of their mutual friend, percy, they had a full-fledge channel. subscribers were pouring in and suddenly they were making money off of their channel and not just messing around with a camera. soon, people were inviting them to their alleged haunted buildings, and suddenly it wasn’t a hobby anymore. he abandoned his internship to put his focus purely in the channel. and they’ve recently hit their first million subscribers.

i - “i love you.”

romance was fleeting, something that joshua had never put too much effort into. especially considering he never thought he was particularly interesting. attractive, sure, but that was only skin deep. martha parker was the first girl that joshua ever said i love you to. and while it may not have lasted, it never faded but simply evolved into an unbreakable bond. sometimes your first love is meant for more than just a memory.

j - “i actually like jogging.”

by the time high schoo hit, joshua had grown into himself somewhat and the overwhelming awkwardness gave way to a more charming awkward. however, instead of throwing himself into multiple relationships in his teenage years, he spent most of it in the gym with his peers working out. he enjoys fitness and is more often in motion than not. he is the type to suggest going on a hike before going to the movies.

k - kin

family? friends? his entire family is based on you make your family; it isn’t always blood. and it’s with this example that joshua has lived his entire life as making his own family. his friendships are an extension of that body, of that ever evolving nervous system. it is why he only keeps positive influences in his life.

l - last minute snack run

there is no shortage of junk in the kelly/clark household. so much so in fact that he will drop everything if he has a craving something unhealthy for him. he may be a fitness nerd, but you better believe he needs his cheetos or else there will be hell to pay.

m - maya

a twitch goddess, a crush, a friendship. this girl is someone that joshua would likely drop everything for if she ever asked it of him. he may not know it yet but she has ‘love of my life’ radiating off her in waves, in the way she smiles and the way she moves. he may be a fool, but he is determined to not screw it up. maya is a once in a lifetime type of person. even an idiot can see that. 

n - “you’re damn right i’m into that nerd shit!”

growing up joshua often struggled to bond with his peers as he tended to not enjoy the same things as the other kids his age. up until middle school, joshua tended to avoid sports (until he realized he was good at them), and often preferred the company of books and film. that extended to comic books as well, and sometimes got mocked for it while growing up. and even now, as he would consider himself confident in who he is, he will be the first to defend this so called ‘nerd shit’.

o - “ooooooooooh!”

it’s not to say that he’s an idiot, but he can sometimes come off like one because he struggles to pay attention to things. especially on the first time around. often, you might have to repeat yourself before he truly comprehends what you said. he’ll get there, give him a minute.

p - “which parents do you want me to talk about cuz--it’s not that easy.”

joshua is adopted, a member of the extensive clark clan. while he appreciates his family more than he can say; he had a very stable childhood. however, his biological family is something that has been a bit of a mystery for him. his memories are hazy if not filled with faceless people speaking in unintelligible mumbles. he was too young to remember. but joshua is tenacious, and he isn’t willing to let it fade with time.

q - “oh do you remember this quote from--”

this kid is constantly quoting things from books, tv shows, and movies. in fact, it could be argued that the majority of his personality was formed from the media. odds are, he is the one in the group who is snapping his fingers and flailing quite ostentatiously trying to remember the quote from something he watched the other day that is relevant to the conversation. or so he thinks.

r - reason to smile

his happy place is the editing room, listening to music while they attempt to get the best content out of their footage as possible. this is usually all three of them collaborating together so everyone has equal say in what they put out there for everyone to watch. they are a team, and it’s one of the best things in the world for joshua to be a part of it. it’s his favorite thing in the entire world.

s - shelter

never one to waste free time, with what little he has joshua gives it to the local no-kill animal shelter where he spents a few hours a week taking care of the animals and helping them get adopted to good homes. he often begs his roommate if he can bring animals home often met with a negative response. even so, he is the one who is out in the yard playing with the dogs to make sure they get socialized.

t - trust

he may come off fun-loving and without a care in the world, but trust is something that isn’t easily won with him considering his circumstances. if you cross him or someone who he cares for deeply, it is likely you will never possess his earnest trust. it’s just the luck of the draw.

u - "what are you doing with my underwear?”

please, if you think this kid is basic, you haven’t been paying attention to him at all. he may have basics in his drawers, but this kid is the type to go into a store and see spongebob boxer briefs and immediately buy them because its god damn spongebob, guys! he is whimsical with his clothes most of the time, so his underwear can’t be boring either.

v - “we’re on vacay!”

joshua is planning a trip to hong kong to take over the holidays as he continues on his journey to find his birth mother. he’s unaware of the journey is going to take him right to his backyard, but for the time being, he is enjoying the planning portion of the trip. after all, he is learning about where he came from and also going away on location. what could go wrong...

w - “you are the fuckin’ worst!”

he is no saint, and he has his fair share of bad habits. like leaving his dirty clothes all over the place, leaving wet towels on the bathroom floor, and leaving empty energy drink cans all over the place. he is a god damn mess and i feel terrible for people who have to live with him. sorry, elliot.

x - “i still think xena is hot!”

strong women are kind of a thing for joshua, as he has a tendency to crave structure, a thing he has been severely lacking since moving out on his own. women who know what they want and aren’t afraid to admit it are his kink. if you boss him around he will listen like the dutiful young man he is.

y - “youtube is paying us, bro!”

it seems new subscribers come in waves as each day passes and because of this, joshua is spending a lot of his time collaborating with other content providers, local historians, and anyone who will listen to him ramble in order to provide the best content to their audience. he is hardworking to the end, especially considering they are making that youtube cash!

z - “zombies terrify the shit out of me, please don’t--”

that’s it. zombies freak him out. please don’t dress up as one and spook him, he will literally squeal like a girl and throw something at your face. proceed with caution.

! - “oh shit!”

nothing elaborate to put here, the boy just has a terrible mouth and tends to curse more often than not. someone get soap for this child’s mouth, it’s dirty.

, - “listen,”

he often has to explain how much of a trash can he is. trust me, he is well aware of his own shortcomings. 

? - “huh?”

sorry, you are going to have to repeat yourself a lot, but that’s okay, because you never know if he’s playing a prank on you or if he genuinely wasn’t paying attention. can he be trusted? that’s a fair question.

: - “you ARE the father 2: electric boogaloo”

joshua will be meeting his birth father, a rather cataclysmic ending to his birth mother journey that will require a lot of explanations, shouting matches, and trying to come to terms with the fact that sometimes, young people just make mistakes and there is no real rhyme or reason as to why anything happens. parents are people too, kids. don’t forget that.

[chasholidays]

Excited you're doing this again! I'd like to request Monty/Miller, board game night was supposed to be fun how did it end up like this

Raven is the first one to notice the problem with game night, but it really should have been Monty, because as soon as she lays it out, it’s both obvious and terrifying.

“Sure, you’re chill,” is how she explains it, “but one chill person can’t actually turn the entire tide of an evening.”

“I’m not the only chill person. We don’t have to calm everyone down, just–Clarke,” he says.

Raven snorts. “You wish it was just Clarke. But you’ve got Clarke and Bellamy, so, like, no matter how cool anyone else is, they’re going to fight to the death because they don’t know how to just make out.”

There is no counterargument to this; it is undeniable. “Yeah, so they can just play their own game.”

“You’ve also got Octavia, she’s competitive. And me.”

“You?”

“Sorry, I’m definitely competitive. I want to kick everyone’s ass. Jasper’s a bad loser, Miller’s a wild card, so that just leaves you and Lincoln to be normal humans who aren’t assholes. And that’s not enough to tip the scales.”

“Okay, but this isn’t my first rodeo,” says Monty. “I know how this works.”

“Uh huh.”

“Co-op games,” he says. “Collaboration. Stuff where we’re working together. Which is–”

“So naive,” says Raven. “So optimistic. You think we can’t fight over a cooperative game? We still have to agree on things. We can barely decide on where to order takeout. Cooperative games might be worse than competitive ones.”

It’s a valid point that Monty would prefer not to think about, but game night is in three hours and he needs a plan. “Fuck.”

“Nothing is safe,” Raven says. “There is no good-case scenario here. You’re on damage control. If there are survivors, you win, but I’m not optimistic.”

“And you’re not going to help.”

She pats his shoulder. “Game night is every person for themselves, Monty.”

“Thanks. Helpful. It’s going to be fine,” he adds, because he’s pretty sure that’s a thing. Saying things and hoping that will make them true. “We’ll have fun.”

“Uh huh. Sure we will.”

*

Monty had exactly one goal with game night: more time with Miller. Not that he doesn’t see Miller roughly twice a month, which is about as much as he sees anyone he doesn’t live or work with. But he doesn’t have a crush on any of his other friends, so he doesn’t consider it a problem. Monty doesn’t tend to need a lot of company; between Jasper and Raven as roommates, he’s mostly set for day-to-day interactions. But he would like a significant other, and he’d like it to be Miller. And without any other ideas to see more of him (aside from something truly drastic, like asking him on a date), he decided to have a board game night, and somehow everyone agreed, and now, he assumes, they are all going to die.

Maybe he shouldn’t date. Maybe he wasn’t made for that. This is a sign.

But it’s too late to change things now, so the only way forward is through. The best he can hope for is a game that does not result in bloodshed.

Me: Raven has pointed out there’s a 95% chance everyone is going to die at game night

Miller: She’s good at math, I’d trust herWho’s coming again?

Me: You, me, Raven, Jasper, Lincoln, Bellamy, Octavia, ClarkeI’m most worried about Bellamy and Clarke but Octavia is a wild card and Raven says she’s competitive tooSo likeWe need a non-fatal game

Miller: Can we just lock Bellamy and Clarke in a closet?Either they kill each other or hook up and either way the rest of us are safe

Me: I figured that would be a last resort

Miller: Well, it’s your funeralOkaySo, it’s eight people?

Me: Yeah

Miller: OkayWhat are you doing?

Me: Right now?

Miller: YeahStrategizing would be easier in person, if I can just come over

Me: OhSureIt’s as clean as it’s going to getCome by whenever

Miller: CoolOmw

*

Miller doesn’t even bother with greetings, just opens with, “So, I think we need two pods.”

“Two pods?” Monty echoes, feeling lost. Miller is shedding his coat and hat and he’s wearing a tight t-shirt and is in Monty’s apartment, which is a lot to deal with. It’s going to take him a minute to catch up.

“Yeah. Two games, four players each. I think we can’t have Bellamy and Clarke playing together. It’s not safe.”

“That’s probably true.”

“Bellamy and Octavia is risky too. Sibling rivalry. So that means Clarke and O in one pod and Bellamy and Raven in the other.”

“That checks out, yeah. You’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Dude, I’ve played board games with Bellamy and Octavia before. I know how this works.”

“Is it as bad as I think it is?”

“They regress like twenty years, yeah.”

“Okay, so—that’s a good start. Lincoln should be in Octavia’s pod, he’s good with her, and then—“

If he wants to be with Miller, Jasper would have to be their fourth, but he doesn’t really have any reason to suggest it. Everyone thinks of him and Jasper as a matched pair; it would be natural to put them together.

But Miller says, “I should go with Bellamy, I’m good with him too. So that leaves you and Jasper.”

“I’ll go with you guys, Clarke and Octavia sounds like a lot. Jasper can deal with that.”

Miller smirks. “Yeah, that sounds right. Okay, cool, that’s done.”

“Yeah, you came a long way for a pretty short conversation.”

“Not that long. And I figured I could hang out. You have any cool two-player games?”

“I can think of something. And we need to figure out what we’re playing tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we can keep busy,” says Miller, and Monty knows it’s not supposed to sound like a come on, so he doesn’t take it as one.

“Definitely,” he says instead. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

*

The plan does work, for the first round of games. Monty, Miller, Raven, and Octavia have a perfectly civil game of Tokaido, and the other table seems to do fine with Above and Below, and then Clarke says, “So, round two?” and Monty looks at Miller with some mild terror.

“Yeah!” says Octavia. “I want to play that witch game.”

“I love the witch game!” says Jasper, and Raven agrees, and suddenly the four of them are on one side with Broom Service and Monty is left with Miller, Bellamy, and Clarke.

Well, the other table might survive this, anyway. They might not all die.

“So, what are we playing?” asks Bellamy.

This is where Monty has some chance to get the whole thing back on track. He can pick a game that won’t involve much opportunity for Bellamy and Clarke to be in direct competition, one where they can’t fuck with each other. Something–

“This one looks cute,” says Clarke, and Monty winces.

“That one’s–”

“That looks fun,” Bellamy adds.

And it is. Underlings of Underwing is a fun, cute game that Clarke will probably enjoy. It has color theory and dragons and Monty really likes it.

It’s just that there’s all this resource management, and Bellamy and Clarke are going to be able to screw each other over, and they probably will, and while that seems to be foreplay for them, it’s incredibly stressful for everyone else who’s going to be interacting with them.

But Miller says, “Sure, I’m in,” which means Monty has no one on his side, and also that if he doesn’t play, he won’t have any reason to interact with Miller, so apparently this is how it’s going to be.

And it’s honestly not as bad as he thought it would be. Which, admittedly, says more about the power of his own imagination than anything, but still. He’s taking any victories he can get at this point. Bellamy and Clarke have developed an incoherent rivalry before the first turn is over, both more focused on attempting to screw the other one over than they are on actually winning, which is both a curse and a blessing.

Really, the biggest problem there is that Monty thinks he might win, and he’s not sure if they’ll let him live through the victory. He would be much happier coming in last.

As it turns out, though, Bellamy and Clarke have fun threatening to murder each other, and as soon as that game is over, they want to play another, and Monty thinks it might actually be okay, until Octavia literally flips the board on Broom Service.

“This is bullshit!”

Monty and Miller exchange a look, and Miller raises one shoulder, like he’s amazed they got this far.

“Don’t be a sore loser, O!” calls Bellamy, and she calls back, “Don’t be a fucking dickface, Bell!”

“Who needs another drink?” Monty asks, and every hand in the room, Blakes aside, goes up.

He nods. “Cool. That’s what I thought.”

*

“That was actually really fun,” is Miller’s final assessment.

“I think Lincoln has a black eye,” says Raven.

“He’s fine,” says Jasper. “That went really well!”

Miller looks dubious. “I said it was fun, not that it went well. Big difference.”

“Miller’s into trainwrecks,” says Raven.

“Who isn’t?”

Monty’s mostly excited that Miller hasn’t left yet. He had a stressful, bizarre, vaguely traumatizing evening, but now that it’s over and no one actually died, he can look at it with the benefit of hindsight and admit that while it wasn’t as good as he hoped it would be when he first imagined the night, he doesn’t think Lincoln actually got a black eye, and they didn’t play Monopoly, so no relationships were actually ruined forever, and everyone had some amount of fun.

And, again, Miller is still around. That’s the best part of the night.

Raven knows it too, because she yanks Jasper’s arm. “Come on, I want to show you this new video game.”

“You do?” asks Jasper, and then he catches on. “Oh, yeah, you do! What a great idea. Please show me all your video games.”

Monty rubs his face, but Miller just smiles. “Sounds like a good game.”

“Yeah, we got so many details about it.” It’s not hard to smile back, though. “Thanks for all your help. I think we got through that with as little bloodshed as was possible, with this group.”

“No problem.” He clears his throat. “Honestly, it was fun. I’ve been looking for an excuse to hang out with you.”

“Really? Because you don’t need one. Like, we could just hang out. But,” he adds, “in the interest of full disclosure, I did set up game night just so I’d have an excuse to hang out with you.”

“There have got to be safer ways for us to spend time together.”

Monty swallows hard. “Like a date, maybe?”

“A date sounds a lot easier, yeah,” says Miller, and leans in for a kiss.

So, overall, game night is a resounding success. 10/10, would recommend.

But maybe not more than once a month. Just to be safe.

[sgtbellamyblake]

not a very good santa claus

Summary: Bellamy deals with the responsibilities of being Santa Claus.

Word Count: 1,655

A/N: Hi again! So I decided to write another Christmas drabble one-shot thingy because I couldn’t get the idea out of my head and the lovely Emily made a really cute moodboard for my other Christmas one-shot and it really inspired me. I’ve had a rough day and these holidays have certainly not been the best for me but writing these little things have really given me something to work on, something to feel productive about… I don’t know maybe this is dumb but it’s been a distraction for sure. I’ve written about the kids once again, really excited to keep writing about them! Already kinda know what they look like and everything… working on the personalities. I love me a good family fic can you tell? Sorry for rambling. Merry Christmas!

[AO3]

For the first time in a while when Bellamy wakes up he feels well rested. There isn’t an annoying alarm clock, no cold little feet pushing against his ribs and when he turns to lay on his back in bed he realizes there’s also no Clarke. The room is bathing in sunlight streaming through the window and when the smell of cinnamon, sugar and vanilla hit him he remembers it’s Christmas Eve.

With each step he takes down the staircase he can hear there’s a lot going on, but then again when isn’t there? He can hear a familiar film playing on their TV, high pitched voices talking over each other and his wife’s trying to create some sort of order and peace amongst the cheerful caos.

He tries to peek into the kitchen quietly to watch them from the outside for a bit longer but two year old Levi shrieks as he sees him. “Dada!” He lifts his arms up, one of them holding a soggy cookie and Bellamy lifts him up from where he sat on the counter. Clarke breaking her ‘no sitting on the counter’ rules on Christmas Eve… as if they haven’t sat on the counter and done worse things before.

He kisses the little boy’s dark curls and leans over to peck Clarke’s lips before she’s turning around to look at the clock on their oven. “Almost eleven in the morning. That’s a record… at least for Bellamy post-kids.” She raises her eyebrows. He used to be a heavy sleeper until he became a dad. Sleeping in on the weekends nowadays meant seven in the morning, eight at most.  

“Merry Christmas Eve, Daddy!” Rory smiles enthusiastically and he kisses hers and Jack’s head. It still astounds him how much she looks like Octavia when she was Rory’s age.

Said little girl and five year old Jack are quick to jump in and try to show him all he’d missed while he was asleep, starting with the mess of green, red and white frosting all over their hands, scattered throughout the counter top and clumsily scribbled over the gingerbread man and tree-shaped cookies.

“They’re for Santa Claus.” Jack says as he licks his fingers. “And we’re watching The Grinch.” He says, pointing his food coloring stained finger at the TV playing in the living room. It’s Bellamy’s favorite Christmas movie.

“And you couldn’t wait for me to watch it?” Bellamy argues playfully and Levi giggles. “You’ve watched it like a million times, Daddy.” Rory tells him and Clarke chuckles.

“Fine, fine. I’ll let it slip this time… but only because it’s Christmas Eve.” He says.

“We’re also tracking Santa.” Rory tells him, dropping her makeshift piping bag and running over to the dinner table where Clarke’s laptop is set up. Jack follows right behind her and Bellamy has to put Levi down so he can toddle behind his siblings. He follows them everywhere now.

Just when Bellamy’s about to wrap his arms around Clarke she trails behind the kids and he’s left on his own.

“Okay, let’s clean our hands before touching the computer.” She grins nervously and hands Rory and Jack baby wipes before leaving Levi with his cookie in hand, otherwise he’ll scream his head off. He isn’t going to touch the computer anyways, or so they hope. Kids and technology these days…

Bellamy’s drinking orange juice straight from the carton when Clarke comes back into the kitchen and catches him red handed.

“Bellamy!” She scolds him and he shoves the orange juice back in the fridge. “Shit, sorry.” He laughs lightly and pins her against the counter before she can say anything else, peppering her neck with kisses as she tried to push him away. “Bell, I love you too but the kids are right there.” She tells him, and he shrugs. “They’re busy following Santa…” He’s quiet for a moment after that, as if trying to figure out how to word the next question. “Why gingerbread cookies, though?” He frowns. He’s not the biggest fan of gingerbread cookies.

“Because they wanted to make those.” Clarke smiles and turns to start putting the cookies on Santa’s designated plate. “This was my last job as Mrs. Claus.” She whispers. “Yours was to wrap the presents and later tonight eat these cookies.” She reminds him and Bellamy freezes in his place. Wrap the presents. Santa has to wrap the presents because Santa doesn’t have elves to wrap them for him. His three little elves believe Santa’s real so they can’t wrap their presents themselves and Mrs. Claus had bought all the presents already. Her job’s done. His isn’t. Santa’s screwed.

Clarke’s wiping the counter and talking to him when he focuses on her again and has to shake his head. “Sorry?”

“The kids are calling you.” She repeats.

“Right,” He nods and walks out of the kitchen to Jack and Rory hovering over the laptop, the Santa Tracker on the screen. He had no idea that was even a thing. “He’s in Australia right now, Daddy.” Rory tells him and Jack speaks up. “But why? It’s not time for bed yet.”

“That’s because depending on where you are in the world the hours of the day change because Earth is turning. Right now our side is facing the sun so it’s daytime for us but Australia’s side is facing the moon so it’s nighttime for them.” Bellamy tries to explain as best as he can to the five year old. At least he’s not in Australia right now. It’s still not even midday… he can manage to find some time to wrap the presents.

____

So he doesn’t manage to find the time to wrap the presents. It’s kind of impossible when he’s got a house full of kids and a wife who thinks he’s already done the only job he had. He couldn’t possibly sneak off, not even for half an hour. Not that half an hour would be enough for all the presents he had to wrap but it was something.

Then they have to get the kids and themselves ready for dinner at Octavia’s and actually go to Octavia’s. The whole time they’re there he can’t stop thinking about the bags full of unwrapped presents hiding in their closet. What if they don’t have enough wrapping paper?! Or tape?! Octavia gets him some tape just in case, and he still hasn’t told Clarke about it because she’ll freak out. He’ll wait until she’s asleep to get to work.

They leave Octavia’s after spending the evening with her, Lincoln and the kids and arrive home with a sleeping toddler and two half asleep kids, who aren’t ready to give into sleep until they change into their Christmas pajamas, track where Santa’s currently at and lay out a glass of milk and cookies for Santa, carrots for the reindeers.

An hour later Clarke and Bellamy are lying in bed and Clarke’s putting up an alarm for one in the morning to put the presents up under the tree. He panics because he’s not sure he’ll be done by then but he prays she falls asleep fast. It doesn’t take her long, never does (mother of three) but she’s a light sleeper. Getting out of bed feels like mission impossible but when he manages to he slips into the closet and gets to work.

He wraps Clarke’s presents first just in case she wakes up and then starts on the kids’. He’s halfway through Levi’s when he hears someone clearing their throat and he feels like a deer in headlights.

“What are you doing, Bellamy?”

Bellamy takes a deep breath and speaks “First of all, it’s Santa Claus and second of all, I can explain.” He raises his arms up in defeat.

“You forgot.” She crosses her arms over her chest and he nods. “You should’ve told me. It was unfair of me to leave them all for you to do.”

“No, I could’ve done it. I just forgot and I didn’t wanna-“

She doesn’t let him finish before she’s leaving him in the closet alone. Yikes, he’s not gonna hear the end of it in the morning. He keeps wrapping in silence and a few minutes later she’s back… with a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand.

They toast to another Christmas together and spend the night wrapping the kids’ presents. ____

“You have to eat at least one and a half so it looks realistic.” Clarke whispers, as she finishes setting up the presents under the tree. She snaps a quick picture of the lit up tree in the dim living room while Bellamy sits in front of the plate of cookies. “You’re Santa Claus and you forgot to wrap the presents so at least do this.”

“I told you it was an accident. And why do I have to eat them? Can’t we just… hide them away and then you can eat them some other time?”

“No, they’ll get gross.”

“They’re already gross.”

“The kids made them with love.” Clare tells him and he stops arguing.

“Just do it! At least one cookie!” She adds in a hushed voice. “And half a carrot.” ____

They’re woken up barely a few hours after they went to bed and had a little too much wine.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Rory shakes his arm and he feels two other little humans crawling over the covers. “Santa came!” The seven year old tells him and even if his eyes are closed he can hear the smile in her voice.

“And he ate our cookies!” Jack cheers and Clarke turns in bed to look at her son. “Santa ate all of the cookies?” She asks groggily and he grinned with a nod. “All of them!”

Clarke raises an eyebrow and shifts to wrap her arm around Bellamy’s back. “Santa ate all of the cookies?” She whispered, kissing his jaw.

“All of them.”

[toast-the-unknowing]

lydia-st-james tagged me in a writing in review meme, which, man. That takes me back. I haven't done one of these in ages.

Main take-aways: 1. 2017 was the year of the long-ass fic titles, apparently. 2. It only took ten freaking years but I can mostly write romance without dying of embarrassment. Mostly. 3. Ten years has not been long enough to teach me how to start something and just finish it already before starting twenty more things. Seriously, there are so many stories that I started this year that I keep thinking ya'll have read already and then I remember that no one has read those because I haven't finished them yet. Oh well. Maybe 2018 will be a year of extraordinary personal growth and self-discipline. Spoiler alert: it won't be.

Anyway. These are the things that I've published so far this year.

Listed in chronological order of publication, with one exception:

new worlds for the weary, new lands for the living Okay, so, I don't know if anyone else thinks of any of their stories this way, but I have a very small handful of fics that are my heartsong fics. I don't think of them as being stories. I think of them as being thousands of words of meta and criticism and gushing and character love and, just, me, pouring my heart out over some aspect of canon that is important to me, and then maybe if I'm lucky, I trick people into reading it and thinking it's a story.

Yeah. This is one of those. I started this story before I had even finished Blue Lily, Lily Blue, which is not a thing I do. I always finish canon (to whatever extent canon exists at the time of my joining fandom) before I start writing. But I wanted so badly to write about Adam and Ronan and how I felt about their relationship that I couldn't wait.

This was something like a five month writing process all told, and I'm really happy with the end result. The moment where Ronan smears ink on Adam's face, in particular, I'm very proud of. I'm proud of that whole fight scene, really, but that moment is such a strong visual, and I'm not generally great at creating those.

don't think about how much it will hurt God, I still hate this title, but I do love this fic. It exists because I had been toying around with a canon-divergent AU that I quickly realized was going to take a shit-ton of work and not actually be that interesting. I ditched the AU, but there was one scene I liked enough that I didn't want to give up on it (Ronan trying to provoke Adam into punching him and then holding his hand while wondering wtf he's doing), and I realized it could pretty easily be made canon-compliant and given the legs to stand on its own.

I briefly considered tagging this as "preslash if you consider fighting and bad decisions to be flirting, which if you ship pynch, you probably do," and then I considered how poorly that would match the tone of this story. I am very happy with the tone of this story. It was hard to write, and I think it's hard to read, and it's a better story for it.

the more we move ahead the more we're stuck in rewind NO ONE ON EARTH READ THIS FIC BUT I DON'T GIVE A SHIT I LOVE IT. There are so many, many, many things in this fic that make me happy: -Clarke being an unholy mashup of my sister and talldecafcappuccino -"You thought that there was an intersection of sentimentality and camp that Miller wouldn't be interested in?" -Just, Murphy. All of Murphy. -The Inseparable, Indestructible Blake Siblings (which is when the Blake siblings are at their best, fuck you, canon) -"Do you ever worry that we're going to turn out to be warped people with unhealthy relationships/Honestly at this point I'm counting on it." -the whole scene where Raven friend-dumps Clarke -Monty taking "gas grass or ass" too seriously -Nate's stupid "you know what they say about those guys with Bigfoot" t-shirt (I would wear that t-shirt)

Like, I know why this story wasn't successful as an item of fan culture. And I acknowledge that there are weaknesses in the writing. But I still fucking love it.

so familiar, like an old bedtime song Ugh, this was called "came in quiet with the rain" right up until the very second I published it and then I changed my mind and I still regret it. Never second gues yourselves, kids. (Either way: "Raising Cain" is a good Adam/Ronan song.) I wrote about half of this on a whim and then shoved it in a corner waiting for inspiration for the longer story that I thought it was meant to be a part of. Then I was sitting around on Adam's birthday/my birthday weekend, a little tipsy in the middle of the day, and I decided, nah, this can be a standalone. I'm not kidding myself that it's great literature but I think it does what it sets out to do well.

The Fake Geek Boy Job This is a rare example, for me, of coming up with a title first and writing the story around it. So that was fun. I was so, so, so happy with the response to this fic. I've written case fic before, but I'm not good at heists, and I was really worried that the way I handle the heavier plot elements here – basically cutting around them and explaining all of the offstage action through snarky banter – was going to feel like cheating. Like, there's probably a version of this story that's 20k words longer and is twice as good, but it would have taken ten times as much work. It seems like people understood the plot as it stands and didn't feel robbed, and it was such a relief to hear that.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name IT IS THE PROUDEST ACCOMPLISHMENT OF MY ENTIRE LIFE that there are only two fanfics on AO3 tagged with the relationship tag "Quark & Jake Sisko" and I wrote both of them. Though I fully admit that "Everybody Comes to Quark's" is the better story of the two. This one feels like the first half is from one story and the second half is from a different story and neither of those two stories is complete, per se. But love a lot of the individual lines, character moments, etc. Also, just, any times spend with my beloved ridiculous giraffe boy Jake is good time.

faith, hope, all that bullshit This is the best thing that I have ever written that is based on a typo. And...I don't really know how to talk about this fic beyond that. It took something like seven months of on-again-off-again work; I am super grateful to Pynch Week for giving me the kick in the pants to finish it. There were so many things that were challenging about this – I hated everything in life the entire time I was writing Matthew. Plus trying to write all the characters as being a little older and more mature and their relationships as having progressed. But it was worth it because there are so many moments in this fic that just are still living in my head, even though I've put the fic down.

I think my favorite scene of all is the Christmas Eve scene, partly because I love Declan and partly because I love the "fucking Cain ruined it for the rest of us" exchange. But from a craft point of view I'm proud of that scene a lot. The first scene is its own contained story with beginning/middle/end; the Christmas Eve scene is what makes the proposal scene the beginning of a longer story, and it happens without the POV character understanding that it's happening. I'm pretty happy with how that all turned out.

People really liked the wedding scene, which is gratifying and totally baffling. That scene was murder to write. I don't even want to plan my own wedding, now I got to make one up for someone else? Of course, I mean. I cheated, because I didn't actually write the reception. Maybe the lesson here is if I don't even want to write a scene then for sure no one would want to read it?

Word on the Street This is another one, like The Fake Geek Boy Job, where I think there's a version of the story that's twice as good and eight times as long and a hundred times more work to write; I'm satisfied with my version. Also, I think the longer version is much more serious, whereas this is a comedy and I am happy with it as a comedy. Adam maybe comes off a little poorly, in the way that comedy characters sometimes come off dickish/rude/sociopathic. But it makes me laugh and honestly if I make myself laugh I'm happy. (That's not to say I'm never going to write the epic tale of how Ronan becomes Greywaren – I know what the first line of it is – but it's a real low priority).

come out of the cupboard, you boys and girls OKAY I WROTE THIS IN LIKE LITERALLY TWO DAYS AND YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND HOW HAPPY THAT MAKES ME. Even just writing something of this length usually takes weeks if not months between when I start it and when I finish it. This was like a dirty little fling, and as someone who never has dirty little flings either in life or in writing, that was a fun change of pace.

The Dragon's Nest Avatar: The Last Airbender is, in my eyes, basically a perfect television show, and it's a lot harder to write fic for something that you think is well-written/complete on its own, because where do you and your fanwriting fit in? As such, this was a challenge, but I'm pretty happy with it. Alchemicink, for whom this was written, mentioned being happy just from seeing the "intergenerational friendship" tag, and I gotta say I was happy just from getting to use that tag. And any day you get to write Toph stomping around yelling at people is a good day.

while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now So credit where credit is due: lydia-st-james gave me the prompts here and put up with my intermittent screeching as I was working on it. It took me a while to get it all done, but I wrote literally 13k words of this in the first four days, which is bonkers; I'm usually much more of a percolator in the early stages of writing. As such a lot of the outlining process is lost to the sands of time. I don't remember making an actual decision to set this in LA; I think my subconscious realized before I did that this was going to be a story about loneliness and depression, and, fairly or unfairly, I associate loneliness and depression with the city of Los Angeles. In any case, it gave me lots of opportunities to throw shade at LA and I'm always down for that, and I've loved hearing people respond to the specificity of the location.

It's funny to me that people are responding to this one so strongly because I don't generally groove on fake dating; I’ve never written it as a trope and I always find it hard to swallow as a reader. I wonder if there's something to be said for writing tropes one is somewhat critical of. Though I don't think, generally, it works out when people write a thing they actively hate. It's a theory I'm tinkering with, anyway.