#good mom lillian

[joellesolo]

I am fucking STRESSED.

It's hard being a chronically ill mom. It's hard during the 'normal times' to keep up with everything.

I've lost five pounds in the last two weeks puking my guts up because of the amount of pain I've been in.

But tomorrow? Tomorrow we leave for Anaheim. We're going to fucking DISNEYLAND. And that should be so fucking exhilarating, I should be so fucking EXCITED, but instead I'm just stressed out because I'm so worried I'll just be a strain on my family and won't be able to keep up and I'll just bring everyone down with my pain and fatigue.

First world problems, right? We've been planning this for over a year. I thought I'd be 'better' by now. Like, yes I know I'd be sickish, but, I thought the humira would have kicked in and I wouldn't be as sick as I am.

Fuck. I just wanted to have fun. I wanted to make this as special and magical as possible for the girls and now I'm worried that all they'll remember is how different their mommy is from normal mommies, and all that dumb shit, and I just want to cry.

Please send me good vibes if you've got them.

[nin-jay-go]

Hey I saw your tag about Harumi and just wanted to check that you're making sure to research albinism properly!

I'm not accusing you of anything, I haven't read anything else about Harumi from you, but a lot of people treat albinism as "oh, they're just, like, really, really pale" when that's not it at all! The lack of melanin has a lot of serious side-effects on a person with albinism's health — particularly sensitivity to sunlight and impaired vision — as well as multiple causes for albinism that affect people differently! And I would hate to see someone unknowingly perpetuate stereotypes if I can help it.

Anyway, if you ever have trouble with what/how to write for her, I'd recommend @cripplecharacters and @blindbeta as starting resources. I hope you have a swell time, and good luck in your writing endeavors! 👋

oh, yes, i do actually know about that! one of my first ever ocs has albinism, and i did a lot of research when developing her :0 (and i used to have classes with a person with albinism, but i don't want to pull the "i knew a [x] person in school" card about it)

ty very much for the concern anon!! as well as the resources; they're great for anyone else who wants to write characters like this, as well as help flesh out and cut away negative biases

[bird-likes-to-fandom]

You know, as annoying as Mom Friend' Constance HCs sound, we could very well be living in the worse timeline where the fandom hates her because she 'has a good life but still complains about it'

oh, god. you have a point there

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Good mom Lillian AU where she supports supergirl because she supports her daughter first and foremost. Lex who?

Happy Mother’s Day!

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU Pt 11

As soon as Alex and her family are safely in a car on the way to a hotel, Kara and Lena board Lena's jet back to the states. During the flight, Lena curls in on herself, picking nervously at her cuticles with a worried, guilty expression.

"Hey," Kara says, pulling Lena's gaze towards her. Her features remain heavy. "I'm not mad."

At that, Lena's face softens, but only enough to grimace with a soft huff. "You're not the one I'm worried about."

Kara must look confused, because Lena soon continues.

"As a rule, my mother knows who I spend my time with, and when." The guilt returns. "Except for you."

"So she didn't know I was in Capri with you..."

Lena confirms it with a shake of her head. "Nor why I went back to National City."

Well... this wouldn't be easy then. Dealing with a rabid press is one thing-- being at odds with one of the key players in keeping her family safe is another.

"I'm sorry," Lena murmurs. "I just... wanted to keep you mine. Just for a little while."

Kara shoots her a look. "I'm still not mad."

"You can be. If you want."

"I don't." She moves seats, switching to the bench Lena's on. She makes no attempt to still Lena's nervous picking, but simply spreads her legs enough for the outsides of their thighs to touch. Kara intends the physical contact to serve as reassurance, but she doesn't know if it works.

"I'm a big girl, Lena. I know I can back out whenever I want to. But I don't. Not yet."

A little bit of warmth cuts through Lena's anxious fog. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Kara's heart beats a little faster, when a small smile answers her. Impulsively, she leans over to kiss Lena's cheek. She feels... giddy? Far more exhilirated she has any right to feel at her age. "Bring it."

----

Lillian Luthor is a slender, austere woman. Kara clocks her the moment the plane lands on the tarmac, tall and styled in her designer clothes and looks that only money and astronomically good genes could provide.

Only Kara witnesses the short beat Lena takes before stepping out of the plane, bracing herself for whatever follows. Kara keeps pace with her once they descend the ladder in single file. She may not be driving this bus, but she is no shrinking flower. In this, she is Lena's equal.

Not that the look Lillian gives her would have anyone believe.

"In the car," the woman orders. "Now."

Lena obeys without a word. Kara is a little slower to fall in line, but ultimately follows Lena's lead. Lillian climbs in behind them, leaving Jess and a woman Kara doesn't recognize to scramble on board last.

"The family is checked into the Lariat. So far no indication that they've been identified, but its still early."

"What about Kara?"

"What about you??" Lillian demands, tone scathing in its heat. "What were you thinking?"

Kara sees Lena wilt, and anger bubbles up in her throat. "Don't talk to her like that--"

"You have zero business here," Lillian fires back with steel in her voice.

"Mom!" Lena exclaims in Kara's defense. "It's not that big a deal--"

Ice blue eyes turn on Lena, freezing her to the spot. "It's a big enough deal that you saw fit to sneak behind my back, with a woman twice your age no less--"

"Mom!"

"Timeline, now."

Lena's shoulders sag, but says nothing. Looking to divert some of Lillian's ire, Kara moves to speak up. "We--"

"She already knows," Lena rolls her eyes.

"I do," her mother confirms. "But I'll hear it from you nonetheless."

Lena huffs. "Night two of the National City stop. Her niece left her phone backstage, and we exhanged numbers."

"Then?"

"Texting."

The exhange sounds like a repeat of one they've had many times before. Neither Jess nor the other woman-- who Kara assumes is Lillian's own assistant-- look at all nervous at the rapidfire crossing of words.

"Texting?" Lillian demands. "Or sexting?"

Kara bristles. "I don't see how that's any of your--"

"*Texting*, Mom, god!" Lena seethes. Her cheeks are bright red, from anger or embarassment or both. "Will you just--"

"Just *what* Lena?"

Lillian's voice is so sharp Kara can see the moment it cuts Lena down. Her jaw tightens, and when Kara sublty shifts to take her hand, Lena shifts away.

Satisfied that her daughter is suitably in line, Lillian turns to her assistant. "Mercy, have PR prepare a statement. The photos were misconstrued, they simply capture a couple of friends taking in the sights."

"Mom, no," Lena croaks. "I don't want-- who cares if people know that I'm gay--?"

"You are not gay!"

Lena flinches, features blanching as though Lillian had landed a physical blow. Only then does Lillian seem to realize that she's talking to an actual person. Her tone doesn't soften, exactly, but it doesn't sharpen any further.

"Your *brand* isn't," she amends, likely the closest thing to thing to an apology Lena would get.

"I thought Lena is the brand," Kara interjects.

Lillian's frigid gaze snaps to her. "She is."

"Her fans are more open-minded than you think--"

"Her fans don't buy tickets," Lillian informs her coolly. "Their parents do. And *they* are far less forgiving."

Kara looks towards Lena, who meets her gaze with a helpless one of her own. It's not untrue-- Esme hadn't bought her tickets, after all.

"Then what do we do?" Kara allows finally.

"Cut ties. Immediately." Lillian looks down her nose at Kara, her regard as condescending as though she were speaking to a teenager, not a women merely ten years her junior.

"No."

To Kara's surprise, Lena's response is faster than her own, and carries only the barest of trembles.

"Don't be foolish..."

"I'm not--"

"Do you love her?"

Lena freezes. Her gaze flicks to Kara. "It's only been a few weeks..."

"Precisely. Cut ties now, before--"

"But I want to," Lena finishes. This time, her gaze lingers on Kara's, a small smile warming her eyes. "I want to love her."

Lillian scoffs low in her throat. "You're too old to be play the love sick teenager. Or have you forgotten what happened last time?"

Kara watches Lena hold her mother's gaze, something heavy passing between them, inscrutable to anyone else. But Lena holds her ground, and surprisingly, Lillian is the one to back down.

"Then what would you suggest?"

"Like you said-- we give them something else to talk about." Lena swallows, but forges ahead. "I have some new material, I can perform it live in Paris."

Lillian purses her lips, but doesn't smack down the idea. She considers it, her gaze calculating. "And you two?"

"We do what we want," Lena delivers firmly. "No statement, no confirmation or denial. Let people see interpret it however they want. However they need."

Kara thinks of the young fans, isolated in their orientations or identities, seeing themselves reflected in their favorite artist. The gift that would be, the vote of confidence needed to dream of a future where what Lena and Kara share might be theirs.

Lillian shoots Kara a hard glare. "And you? It's your family in the crossfire if this idea goes to shit."

"Then it goes to shit, and we deal with it."

It might be selfish of her, but in all of their conversations, neither Alex or Kelly have suggested backing off. They spoke only of adapting, of overcoming, and Kara knows she has their unspoken support. And even now, being talked down to and chided, she feels happier sitting next to Lena in this moment than she has in years.

Lillian barely contains her snort of derision.

"Very well," she concedes, with a sharp note of criticism. Then she turns from them entirely to speak with Mercy in low tones.

Kara takes advantage of the moment to lean closer to Lena, murmuring in her ear.

"I want to go to Paris with you."

Lena blinks at her. "You don't have to--"

"Would you feel better if I were there?" Kara asks bluntly. Lena deflates a little, but this time in relief rather than shame.

"Yeah."

"Then let me come." Kara gives Lena's hand a squeeze, and is rewarded with a tired smile. "You're not alone in this."

"Okay," Lena says, her smile deepening into a challenge. "Let's bring it."

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱? 𝔑𝔬, 𝔒𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: When Mike calls you for help with Abby, a simple favor turns into a tense confrontation with his aunt, who questions your place in their lives. As she tries to drive a wedge between you and Mike with her hostile remarks, you stand up for the family you're building together, proving your unwavering support. Mike, overwhelmed by your loyalty, pulls you into a moment of intense passion.

Content Warning: This story contains themes of judgment and skepticism along with instances of homophobia, manipulation, and verbal abuse. (Nothing too serious or explicit though). Reader discretion is advised.

Tags: Part 3 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Reader being called “good boy”. Blowjob (reader receiving). Riding. If you have an idea for a part 4, please let me know <3. I love spending time in reading others opinions

Words count: 4500

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Part 1 - Part 2 -Part 4-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8- Part 9-Part 10-Part 11

The afternoon stretched lazily before you, the sunlight filtering through your dorm room window as you packed away your books. There were no more classes to attend, and for once, a rare moment of calm settled over you. Just as you were about to take a break, your phone buzzed insistently on the table. You glanced at the screen.

Mike's name flashing.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you answered.

"Hey," Mike greeted, though his voice carried the unmistakable edge of stress. "Sorry to bother you, but I really need a favor." There was a pause, and you could almost picture him on the other end, running a hand through his hair, his posture tense as he spoke. "I need someone to pick up Abby and take her to her friend's house. She's got that sleepover she's been excited about. I'd go myself, but I'm buried in stuff for the custody battle, and I can't get away."

You could hear the strain in his voice, the tightness that spoke of too many worries stacked on top of each other. It was the same tone he often used when he felt overwhelmed but didn't want to show it. Without missing a beat, you nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "Of course, Mike. I'm on it," you assured him, your voice firm and certain.

"Thanks," he said, his voice softening for a moment, and you could hear the genuine relief in that single word. "You're a lifesaver."

When you arrived at the place, the air was filled with the usual cacophony of children's laughter and the chatter of parents. The building was bright, colorful murals on the walls depicting cartoon animals and cheerful scenes of nature. As you pushed open the doors and walked in, you felt a shift in the atmosphere.

Heads turned, and a sudden hush seemed to fall over the room. The mothers gathered near the entrance exchanged glances, their conversations tapering off as their eyes followed you with a mix of curiosity and quiet judgment.

You could almost feel their gaze assessing every detail: the way your clothes hung on you, the youth in your face that contrasted sharply with the tired lines etched into theirs.

You squared your shoulders, doing your best to ignore the prickle of their stares. Dr. Lillian stood by the door, clipboard in hand.

When her gaze landed on you, her brows knit together slightly, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Can I help you?" Dr. Lillian asked, her tone professional but with a hint of wariness that suggested she was already trying to place who you were. You offered her a small, polite smile, your hands tucked nervously into your jacket’s pockets.

"I'm here to pick up Abby," you explained, feeling the eyes of the other moms still on you, like they were collectively holding their breath. "I'm, uh, Mike's boyfriend."

For a moment, Dr. Lillian said nothing, her eyes narrowing just a fraction as she studied you. It was as if she was weighing your words, trying to reconcile them with whatever expectations she might have had.

The silence stretched, every second feeling heavier than the last.

You could feel the judgment radiating from the gathered mothers, a silent chorus of disapproval that buzzed like static at the back of your mind.

They didn't say anything outright, but their whispered comments and sidelong glances spoke volumes: too young, too out of place, too unfamiliar. You could practically hear their thoughts, each one a prick against your skin.

Dr. Lillian's eyes flicked briefly to the cluster of moms, catching the murmurs that rippled through the group, their mouths hidden behind manicured hands as they leaned into one another with expressions of subtle distaste. The woman’s frown deepened, her skepticism clear as day, and you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your heartbeat quickening.

You felt their judgment like a physical weight pressing down on you, your skin prickling under the heat of their stares. It wasn't just that you were younger than Mike, though that certainly added to their curiosity. It was the fact that you were stepping into a role that, in their eyes, you had no business stepping into.

Finally, Dr. Lillian spoke, her voice careful, almost too neutral. "I see," she said, her gaze still locked onto yours. "And Mike couldn't make it today?"

You shook your head, trying to explain. "He's caught up with some important work legal matters. He asked me to come pick her up and take her to her friend's house for a sleepover."

Dr. Lillian regarded you for another long moment, and you could tell she was assessing you, trying to decide if you were trustworthy. But before she could say anything more, a small figure came bounding towards you from the classroom. It was Abby, her face lighting up the second she saw you.

"There he is!" Abby's joyful cry cut through the tension like a knife as she ran up to you, her little arms reaching out for a hug. You crouched down just in time to catch her, scooping her up as she giggled happily.

Her small legs wrapping tightly around your waist. The sheer enthusiasm in her embrace sent a wave of relief washing over you, and you couldn't help but smile at her, ruffling her hair affectionately.

Abby's joy was infectious, her grin wide and unreserved as she tugged on your hand, dragging you over to where her friend was waiting. "This is my friend!" she exclaimed proudly, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she introduced you.

Dr. Lillian's expression softened at the sight, her skepticism melting as she observed Abby's unfiltered happiness. It was hard to argue with that kind of unguarded enthusiasm, and for a moment, she seemed to reconsider whatever reservations she might have had.

Abby was beaming, and the teacher, perhaps sensing the sincerity in her joy, nodded slowly, sending a pointed look at the other mothers whose judgmental whispers were now met with a silent rebuke.

With that single, subtle gesture, Dr. Lillian dismissed the underlying scrutiny from the room, her posture relaxing slightly as she glanced back at you.

"I see," she said, her tone more sweet now, though the hint of caution still lingered. "Well, Abby seems happy to see you." She turned her attention fully to Abby, offering her a warm smile. "You have fun with your friend, okay?"

Abby nodded enthusiastically, still clutching your hand as she looked up at you with the kind of trust that made your heart swell. Dr. Lillian gave you a final, appraising look, but there was something softer in her gaze now, her approval implied in the way she turned back to her duties, no longer questioning your presence.

Once you dropped Abby at the friend's house, you watched them run inside, giggling and shouting excitedly about their plans. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a quiet sense of accomplishment that you'd helped make her day.

With Abby safely at her sleepover, you decided to head over to Mike's place to give him the update in person. You knew how much he worried about her, and you figured he'd want to hear directly from you that everything had gone smoothly. Plus, you hadn't heard back from him since his call, and you couldn't shake the feeling that he might appreciate a little company, especially given how stressful things had been lately.

When you arrived at Mike's house and knocked, you heard his footsteps approaching before the door swung open. He looked a little tired as always, his hair slightly tousled and the faint shadows under his eyes betraying the strain of the day.

But when he saw you, his face lit up with a warm, albeit weary, smile.

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you. A quick, soft peck that still managed to make your heart skip a beat. It was his way of saying thank you, his quiet, unspoken gratitude.

"Thanks for doing that," he said, stepping aside to let you in.

"No problem," you replied, squeezing his hand as you stepped through the doorway. "She's all set at her friend's house. They seemed really excited."

Mike nodded, but as you followed him into the living room, you noticed there, sitting stiffly on the couch, was Mike's aunt.

Her presence was like a cold wind blowing through the room, her posture rigid and her expression already set into a hard, disapproving line. She barely acknowledged your entrance, her eyes narrowing slightly as she glanced from Mike to you and back again.

"Well, isn't this a surprise," she said, her voice sharp and condescending. She had the kind of tone that suggested she was used to getting her way, her words laced with an undercurrent of disdain that immediately put you on guard.

"I was just telling Mike how important it is for Abby to have a stable home environment. And it definitely is not-“ She gestured vaguely in your direction, her lip curling in distaste “-whatever this is."

Mike's jaw tightened, his calm demeanor visibly strained under the weight of his aunt's hostility.

He stepped closer to you, his hand finding yours in a small, defiant show of solidarity. "This is none of your business," Mike said evenly, though there was a bite to his words that suggested he was holding back more than he let on.

"You're here to talk about Abby, not my personal life."

She scoffed, dismissing his words with a wave of her hand. "Your personal life directly affects Abby," she countered, her gaze now fixed firmly on you. "You think it's appropriate for her to be exposed to this? Two men playing house? It's confusing and, frankly, irresponsible. She needs a stable, traditional environment."

You could feel the anger simmering beneath your skin, a hot, bubbling frustration that threatened to spill over.

You knew what she was really after, it wasn't about Abby's well-being, but about money. You'd seen it in the way she maneuvered through every legal loophole, trying to make Mike's life as difficult as possible.

Mike squeezed your hand, a silent plea for patience, but you could see the hurt in his eyes, the way his aunt's words cut deeper than he'd ever admit. She wasn't just attacking you, she was undermining everything Mike had worked so hard for, all the sacrifices he'd made to be there for Abby.

“Now that I think about this little arrangement of yours. It's all so convenient, isn't it?" She paused, letting the weight of her words settle like a noose tightening around your neck. "Mike saw how you looked at him, didn't he? How you were desperate for his attention. And he played you like a fiddle, didn't he? Using that puppy-dog crush of yours to get exactly what he wanted."

She wasn't done. Oh, no, she had more to say, and it was clear she was savoring every moment of it.

"He's using you," she sneered, her voice dripping with icy contempt. "You're nothing more than a convenient babysitter for Abby. Someone to watch her without costing him a dime. And let's not forget the sex. Oh, that's just a nice little perk, isn't it, Mike?”

His arm, which had been resting lightly around your waist, suddenly tightened, pulling you closer as if to shield you from her venomous words.

"That's not true," Mike said, his voice low and trembling with barely controlled anger. His eyes, usually so calm and gentle, were now filled with a fierce protectiveness, his gaze locked onto his aunt with a mixture of disbelief and fury. “I would never— never use him like that.”

His words were laced with emotion, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. But you could feel the way his hand trembled slightly as it gripped your waist, the way his breath came in short, sharp bursts.

"I genuinely like him," Mike continued, his voice rising slightly, betraying the depth of his frustration. "He's not just some... some tool to be used when it's convenient. He's-" you placed your hand over his, squeezing gently to signal him to stop.

The simple gesture was enough to break through his anger, and he fell silent, his eyes searching yours for guidance. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the need to defend you warring with the exhaustion that had been weighing him down for weeks. You offered him a small, reassuring smile, letting him know that you understood, that you appreciated his defense, but that this wasn't worth losing himself over.

You'd had enough.

"Wow," you began, your voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and cool detachment, "you really went all out with that one, didn't you? I mean, it's almost impressive how far you're willing to stretch the truth just to make yourself feel better."

"You have no idea what's best for Abby, and neither does he!" She jabbed a finger towards Mike, her frustration boiling over. "You're both too young, too reckless, and you're making a mockery of what it means to raise a child!"

You could feel your pulse in your ears, a steady thrum of determination that pushed you to meet her gaze without flinching. "It’s ironic that you call us reckless when you’re the one trying to uproot Abby from a loving home for your own gain. Maybe it’s time to rethink who’s really being irresponsible here." you said firmly, your voice unwavering.

Her nostrils flared, her eyes blazing with anger as she glared at you, but there was no rebuttal. The truth of your words hung in the air and you could see the cracks forming in her façade.

With a final, furious huff, she grabbed her purse from the couch, her movements jerky and furious. "This isn't over” she spat, turning on her heel and marching towards the door. She slammed it shut behind her with enough force to rattle the walls, the impact made the door bounced back, swinging open again as if mocking her attempt to make a dramatic exit.

You rolled your eyes at her reaction, moving your legs to close the door. But before you had time to touch the handle, Mike turned you around and pressed you against the door, his body warm and solid against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts.

The door clicked shut behind you, sealing the two of you in the quiet of the house.

His eyes were open and raw, revealing a depth of emotion that took your breath away. Love, yes, but also a fierce protectiveness, a gratitude so profound it was almost overwhelming.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence heavy with the weight of the confrontation and the rush of adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

Then, without warning, Mike leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours as his eyes fluttered closed. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

You leaned up, closing the gap between you as your lips met his in a kiss.

His hands were gentle, but there was a trembling undercurrent of need in the way they roamed. One slipping into your hair, the other finding its way to your waist, pulling you in, anchoring you to him. Mike's kiss was urgent, driven by a whirlwind of emotions that had been bottled up for far too long.

He needed this.

Needed to let go of the frustration and the anger that had been simmering beneath the surface.

His hands roamed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

You returned his fervor, your hands trailing up his arms, feeling the strength hidden beneath his skin. You moved with him, letting him guide you back through the hallway, your bodies never parting as you made your way toward his bedroom.

Mike's kisses were insistent, almost desperate, his lips never leaving yours for more than a breath. His hands found their way to the hem of your shirt, fingers slipping underneath to feel the warmth of your skin.

He broke the kiss just long enough to meet your eyes, his gaze dark and filled with an intensity that took your breath away. "God, you have no idea how much I needed this," he murmured, his voice low and rough, the words almost a growl as they escaped his throat.

You nodded, your own breath ragged as you pressed another kiss to his lips.

His response was immediate, a fierce pull that had you stumbling back as he pushed forward, never letting the connection break. The back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you fell onto the mattress, Mike quickly following, his body hovering over yours.

He looked at you with a mix of reverence and raw hunger.

Mike's kisses trailed from your lips to your jaw, then down to the sensitive spot just below your ear, where he lingered, his breath hot and unsteady against your skin.

Mike's grip on your hips tightened, his breath hitching as he buried his face against your neck, his lips pressing fervent kisses to your skin.

The idea of you standing strong by his side, protecting what was his-what was yours-had driven him to the edge of control. And now, here in this moment, it was all spilling over.

"All mine. My good boy."

He mouthed along the curve of your neck, his teeth grazing lightly, just enough to make you gasp and arch into him.

He was methodical, almost reverent, as he worshiped every inch of you with his mouth, his hands, his entire being.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access, and he took the invitation eagerly, his kisses growing more urgent and demanding.

"God, you're so good," Mike whispered, his voice breaking with emotion as he held you tighter, his lips finding yours in a bruising kiss that left you both breathless.

His eyes were dark, half-lidded with desire, but there was also something softer, something deeply affectionate that made your chest tighten.

"So good for me. For us." His praise was a gentle hum against your lips.

He smiled.

A small, lopsided grin that was all Mike, the kind that never failed to make your heart flutter.

He kissed you again, deeper this time, a claiming of sorts, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a fervor that left you dizzy. The thought of you, him, and Abby as a family, an unbreakable unit, seemed to feed the fire inside him. It was as if the very notion had unlocked something within him, something primal and possessive, a need to make you his in every sense of the word.

Mike's hands found the hem of your shirt, and with a swift, decisive motion, he stripped you of it, the fabric discarded to the side without a second thought.

The cool air of the room met your exposed skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating off Mike's body as he continued to kiss you, his lips tracing a path of fire down your chest.

Breathing it in, he lets out his tongue to slowly lick the tip of your cock through the fabric, a tingling sensation now courses its way all throughout your body making you a whimpering mess. Biting your lips to suppress the sound, you take your hand to grab a handful of Mike's curly hair.

You feel fingers around the rim of your underwear, as those said fingers pull them. He licks his lips and starts to lick you tip, now without the barrier of a fabric.

You throw your had back, arching your body, pushing your hips close to Mike's face.

Not taking any longer, he submits his mouth to take on your length, reaching up to the back of his throat, this earns him a scream from you, as you whimper more and more with his tongue tracing every vein and ridge.

You didn’t wanted this moment to end too soon.

Your hands instinctively moved to his shoulders, fingers digging into the firm muscles there.

For a brief moment, Mike paused, his lips lingering against your skin, his breath hot and unsteady. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire.

Without words, you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, and guided him gently. You maneuvered him so that his back was now against the wall of the bedroom, your movements deliberate yet unhurried, a quiet assertion of the control you wanted to share.

Mike's eyes widened slightly at the change, the shift in power as you climbed onto his lap.

His hands found their way to your waist, his grip firm. His gaze roamed over you, a mix of pride and awe lighting up his features, his expression softening as he saw the confidence in your movements.

A slow, wicked smile curled his lips as he teased, "So, my sweet, good boy wants to be in control, huh?" The words were a low, husky murmur, a taunt laced with a deep seated affection that made your heart stutter.

Despite the blush that crept up your neck, fueled by the raw intensity of his gaze, you held his eyes and, with a shy but determined voice, you whispered, "I want to...I want to ride you, Mike. I want to make you feel good."

The admission hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, and you watched as his expression softened, the smirk giving way to something deeper, something that made your heart swell with love. "You already do, baby," he murmured, his hands sliding to your hips, guiding you. "But if that's what you want..."

He trailed off, giving you the power to take the lead. The sensation of his strong hands on your hips was intoxicating, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to tether you to reality, even as the rest of the world seemed to blur and fade away.

One by one, you undid them, each click of the fabric parting adding to the electric tension between you. Mike's breath hitched slightly, his eyes fluttering shut as he let himself sink into the sensation, the gentle tug of your hands, the soft brush of your fingertips against his skin.

His hands gently rested on your soft, supple ass.

He circled the hole gently before pressing his finger inside up to the second knuckle, leaning down to kiss you firmly. “Tell me if it’s too much.” He said calmly.

“No, don’t do it” you told him, head turning as the finger went in deeper.

Leaning down closer Mike kissed you softly, distracting you with that before adding in another finger. “I got you. Just hold onto me.”

Working the two fingers in deeper Mike watched for any reaction, kissing your lips over and over when you squeezed his shoulders.

Suddenly you let out a strangled cry of pleasure, hips bucking upward to press the two fingers in deeper. That was the spot you wanted. He massaged that little area over and over, biting little marks along your shoulders and upper chest.

After the third finger you were begging for more, digging your nails into Mike shoulders and moaning against his lips.

With trembling hands, you reached down, feeling the heat of his arousal through the fabric that still separated you. The anticipation was a slow burn, an exquisite torture as you took your time, savoring the way his breath hitched, the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

And then, with deliberate slowness, you freed him, your hands sure and steady as you positioned yourself over him.

His gaze never left yours, the connection between you unbreakable as you slowly sank down onto him, the feeling so overwhelming that it stole the breath from your lungs. The sensation of him filling you, stretching you, was almost too much, a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, but you craved it, needed it.

A low groan rumbled from deep within his chest as he watched you, his eyes dark with desire, his hands gripping your hips with a possessiveness that made your heart race. "God, you feel so good," he whispered, his voice strained, as though he was holding on to his control by the thinnest of threads.

You began to move, slowly at first, finding a rhythm that had both of you gasping, the friction between your bodies igniting a fire that consumed you both.

Mike's hands roamed your body, caressing, gripping, guiding you as you moved together, the sounds of your pleasure mingling with the soft creak of the bed and the muffled rustle of sheets.

He couldn't keep his eyes off you, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your body moved above his, and it was clear that he was completely lost in you.

His control slipped as the pleasure built between you, his thrusts meeting yours with a rising urgency, and you could feel the tension in his body coiling tighter and tighter, ready to snap.

The realization that you were doing this to him, that you had the power to bring him to the brink, fueled your own arousal, driving you to move faster, harder.

His thrusts and your bounces becomes sloppier and sloppier, your body fidgeting, twitching, shaking all around, especially around your bottom area. Another set of moans, whimpers and grunts escapes both of your lips, no sign of stopping whatsoever from the immense pleasure you two are receiving from each other.

You place both of your hands in his chest, positioning yourself better to let his cock fuck you harder and vigorously.

When Mike's release finally hit, it was with a guttural cry of your name, his head tipping back against the wall as his body shuddered beneath you. The intensity of his climax triggered your own, and you collapsed against him, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you and and fluids fill your body, some of it dripping out of you.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your bodies still locked together, hearts pounding in sync as you came down from the high. Mike's hands, which had been gripping you so tightly, softened their hold, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"You”, he whispered, his voice rough and breathless, "you're everything I've ever needed” he murmured, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

You grinned, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. "You'd probably have to find another boyfriend to fight off your evil relatives."

Mike let out a mock groan, rolling his eyes playfully. "Please, don't even joke about that. You're one of a kind. And besides, I'm not sure I could handle someone else. They might not be as good at shutting her up."

You both shared a laugh at that, the sound echoing through the quiet room, lightening the atmosphere. It felt good to laugh, to share this moment of joy and levity after everything you had both been through.

Note: If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[ghostbsuter]

Can be read as a continuation of this

.・゜-: ✧ :-

It's been a few weeks, really, since the day he met his biological father.

The oversized hoodie drowned him, a perfect haven while he waits near the entrance to arkham asylum.

The whole week rushed by after the event. His mom, wonderful, black belt, kickass mom had fretted over him the whole time, messaging his therapist not long after and getting an appointment.

His dad had been clingy, giving him bear hugs left and right, it felt nice. Jazz hadn't let him out of her sight for one moment, always searching, always studying.

Man, he loved his family.

"Are you going to visit him?" The gruff voice of Batman asks, and danny shrieks, jumping away as he looks at the vigilante with wide eyes.

"Oh Ancients—! Don't scare me like that!" Danny scolds, hand over his chest and breathing hard.

He can feel the amusement wafting off of Batman. Or something.

Huffing, the child leans against the brickstone pillar holding the gate again.

"No," he ends up answering. "I'm not here to visit... him."

Batman listens quietly, simply standing next to him. He doesn't pressure nor demand anything. If danny thinks more of it, he might get a headache.

"My sister is an intern in Arkham, we're gonna have dinner with Harley and Ivy today." A shrug, and the wind lovingly pushes him.

"Good." The man states, he hesitates a moment before he stretches his arm out towards danny, opening his hand and showcasing the items.

First is a lollipop, famous for being handed over to children after being saved by the bat himself. Second is a pin, in the shape of Batman's signature bat, it had a red button on the other side however.

"It's an emergency alert, in case anything like this happens again." Is quickly explained and Danny takes them, if not a bit tense.

He is unused to the trust the man shows him despite how short their time was spent together. Danny wonders if the bat already snooped around.

"Thanks—"

"Danny!"

His head snaps to the gate opening, brightening up as Jazz runs through and hugs him.

"Jazz!" He eagerly hugs back, thank looks up at her.

"You gotta meet Bat—" He trails off when they turn to the empty spot next to the pair, wind rustling leaves just as he finished. "man..."

Damn batman.

Danny huffs and tugs at Jazz's jacket. "Nevermind then, c'mon let's get a nice present before we visit harley."

Simply bringing her up seems to have Jazz excited. "I still can't believe we're having dinner with THE Dr. Harleen Quinzel!!!"

"And her wife."

"aND THE Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley!!!"

Her enthusiasm is rubbing off on him, he grins, hooking up his arm around hers, and they're skipping towards town, laughing like maniacs.

[spacebubblehomebase]

Hello! So I have a question about your HHstargazer au. Was Charlie upset when Lillian and Lucious divorce, and is she still upset?

Have a wonderful day!!

When it comes to Charlie's reaction to the divorce, you know how she is. She's more likely to be affected by the feelings of the people around her rather than just concentrating on her own worries. Her mom had long been growing distant from them, so she was hardly surprised. Lilian looked rather assured of her choices and Charlie could adjust. It was just nice to see her mom look freed. Like she could start anew and be excited for it. But her father... Her poor father- Lucius -took it hard. She's always been closer to her upbeat dad than Lilian. But there was a period of time after everything was finalized that her dad just... shut off. From everyone and as close as they were before that, this hurt Charlie more than anything. More than the divorce even! She basically had to grow up relying on herself for 4 years. Without the power and influence her canon self had. (Which surprisingly made her less naive than canon Charlie. Experiencing all of humanity as a human herself without being sheltered and without bias. Both the good and the bad laid unfiltered before her.) Charline's dad was physically there, but he was barely holding on enough to be called emotionally or mentally present in her life. It was an awkward period for them and Charlie was only beginning to develop herself then too. She was basically the Octavia to Lucius' Stolas. Her temperment easily affected by mood swings and hormones like most teenagers. A sensitive, broody, and confused mess, both Magnes were. It was only when the father and daughter duo broke down their walls and reaffirmed how much they needed and missed each other that everything started changing again, but for the better. It was also at this time that they would later hire a most eccentric host into their home who calls himself Alastor. Hope this helps ya! ^v^

-Bubbly💙

[twifairy]

Giant spoilers for TGAA 2 but I gave the main cast's dead moms names, faces, and Court Record profiles. And I wrote up some details on my headcanons and sprite edit process.

All ages listed are my headcanons for how old they were when they died (which like. Yikes.)

These are all edited from existing sprites/official artwork with veeeery minimal actual hand drawing in case anybody thinks I suddenly got really good at imitating Nuri's style lmao.

Sumire Asogi (34)

Same age as Genshin, who also does not have a canon age for whatever reason. I assume he's the same age as Yujin, Jigoku, and Klint though, making him 33 when he dies. Kazuma's mother canonically dies a year after. This also makes Kazuma's parents both concerningly 19 when he was born??? I don't think the devs thought too hard about that at the time but I'm choosing to included in my hcs lmao

"Sumire" is a joke name. Sumire means violet and there are FOUR whole Sherlock Holmes characters named Violet, which is probably the most common female name in the books. As a nice coincidence, violets represent honesty in hanakotoba, tying into the truth theme

Sumire actually has no Kazuma in her face! She's a Courtney Sithe recolor with Kazuma's bangs. I did stare at Kazuma's prosecutor portrait to try and nudge their eyes to be more similar though

Ayame Mikotoba (25)

She's 1-2 years younger than Yujin

Obviously this is just Susato squished around lol. If I were to do it again I'd alter her hairline, I think Susato got that from Yujin

My main aim was to make her look like Susato's tearful smile sprite. Any time I see that sprite I think "this is what her mother must've looked like."

Lillian van Zieks (30)

She's 3 years younger than Klint

LADY BASKERVILLE MY BELOVED. Her married name ofc. I think I pulled "Lillian" from "Lilith" because.... vibes I guess. I also hc Klint calling her Lily so she also gets to have a flower name, and so Iris' father shares her nickname habit.

Lily's eyes are hazel because iirc, the Baskervilles in the book all/mostly have hazel eyes and Iris has her father's eyes.

This was the hardest one to make despite the canon image of her. Her base was Tusspells, herself, and obviously, Iris.

Also here's each woman with her husband and child for the sake of comparison:

[lonelydiary]

16.Karma

When she was 4, Lena Luthor didn't think about karma. She just wanted her mom back. She also wanted Miss Pizzly back, which the mean lady so rudely took away from her.

When she was 12, Lena didn't think about karma either. She thought about how actually scary is to go to the completely new place, the boarding school how Lillian has informed her. She also thought about how completely alone she is.

When she was 19, Lena didn't think about karma yet. She has thought about her new friends, she has thought about her new relationship with the completely amazing possibilities and for the first time in her life with Luthors - she felt hope.

That all has changed, when she was 23. When Lex has gone completely nuts in his revenge for Superman and actually killed people without any sort of remorse- that's when Lena first thought of karma. She was afraid, that the sins of her family will haunt her for the rest of her life.

When she was 24, her personal sunlight has entered her life. She was enchanted by the golden locks, sea blue eyes and the heart of gold. She wasn't afraid of the sins of her family anymore.

When she was 28, the fate with a cruel clarity had shown her, that nothing will last. And maybe, just maybe she doesn't deserve good things. Karma is real, it seems.

"Love, where are you? We are waiting for you to watch Moana, right Lori?" her wife asked their baby.

"Moom, c'mon, it's starting!"

Yes, sometimes karma is real, but it brings the most amazing things your way.

[veeluvss]

Can you write something about JJ catching her kid like high school age snooping through her work files.

Hi ! thank you or your request, it's a little short but here you are!

Snooping

JJ sighed and shut the front door with her foot before plopping the pile of files in her hand on the ottoman by the door. She was exhausted. The team had had two back-to-back cases flying from one distinction to the next so JJ hadn’t slept in 72 hours. She felt like the world could swallow her up. Her bones hurt, she felt her tired blood pumping around her knackered body and all she needed was her bed. Being 3 am, it was acceptable. She slid up the stairs, almost crawling as her body was too tired to hold her up and into bed, fully dressed. 

Around 5 am, she woke up in a sleepy slate and chucked her clothes off as they were irritating. She discarded them on the floor before passing out asleep again beside her husband.

Will woke up at 8 am ready to go to work, at 3 and 5 he heard his wife shuffling around and knew she needed more rest so knew it was up to him to sort out the kids alone. JJ needed the rest. It was an easy wake-up, with one kid in high school and the other in junior high, they could pretty much fend for themselves. 

“Come on kids, we’re going to be late,” Will said to his son and daughter as he stood by the door. He noticed the pile of files by the door and sighed. He knew JJ hated bringing her work home so it must have been particularly bad cases or they were super busy at the BAU. 

“I’m going to make my own way in, Dad,” Lillian, the oldest daughter said. She stood at the door with an apple in her hand and her backpack on her back. “Why? With who?” Will asked. “With Adam, he’s picking me up in five,” Lillian said, lying through her teeth. In reality, she just wanted a day at home with no bother to catch up on her work but she knew her dad wouldn’t allow it. As long as she pretended she was going in, picked Henry up after school like normal and got home in time, she’d be fine. “Okay, but don’t be late,” Will said and opened the door. “Come on, Henry.” 

Lillian stood alone in the house and sighed. She’d already seen the work files by the door and her curiosity got the better of her. “Alexa, play Chappel Roan,” Lillian said to the robot that occupied her living area and walked to sit by the door. She picked up the top file and gasped. It was a real dead person. She smiled, her interest piqued, and began going through it all. “Alexa, volume ten,” she said after a while, picking up the third file. She ate her apple as she read, completely intrigued with the files and their information. She’d always been fascinated with her mum’s work and desperately wanted to join the FBI also. She had a 4.0 GPA, is valedictorian in all of her classes and had her eyes on Harvard for university. She was only two years away. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” JJ said, scaring Lillian. She jumped back, dropping her apple core and the file in her hand. JJ stopped Alexa and stood staring at her daughter with her arms crossed. “Mom! You‘re home.” “Lillian, I asked you a question,” JJ said. “I’m just-” she couldn’t find the words, she knew what she was doing was wrong. “You know they are confidential files,” JJ said. She walked over and grabbed the file from the floor and put it back in the pile before sighing. “How many have you looked through?” “I don’t know. About five?” “Five? Lillian for goodness sake. Why?” “It’s interesting,” Lillian said, shrugging. “It’s private and confidential, you shouldn’t be looking in them and you know that. Also, why aren’t you at school?” JJ asked, checking the time on her phone. “It’s 11 am.” 

Lillian shrugged again. JJ sighed and rubbed her brow, she was exhausted. The music woke her up. “Look, if you’re going to skive at least do it quietly and leave my files alone,” JJ said. She picked the papers up and carried them to her office. Concerned, Lillian followed. Her mom would never act like that toward skiving unless something was wrong. 

“Mom. Are you okay? I’m sorry for snooping it just looked interesting and I wanted to learn-” “You can learn when you get to the academy, right now, you stay out of my private files. Understood?” she turned to look at her daughter. Lillian sighed and nodded, lowering her head, ashamed. “Get your bag, I’m taking you to school.” “No Mom - I-” “You what?” “I just needed a day away today,” Lillian sighed, her voice going small. “It’s nearly the weekend. You have days away then.” “No, I don’t. I have the paper to work on Saturdays and soccer in the afternoons and then Sundays are full of homework. I just wanted one day to myself, to catch up on things,” Lillian explained and JJ sighed. She knew how busy her daughter's schedule was, and how hard on herself she was. “Are you falling behind? Do you need to drop something?” “No. I just need today,” Lillian said, her tone pleading. “Okay,” JJ said, understanding. “Okay. I’ll call you in sick. For now, keep the noise down, I’m going back to bed.” “Yes Mom, thank you,” Lillian said. JJ nodded and walked over to her daughter then took her into a tight hug. “I love you,” she reminded her daughter. “I love you too, mama.”

[kurithedweeb]

Remembering that time I gave Lillian the Silver Scythe kids and how it made her and Jeffory the Golden Heart foils.

Jeffory is a single dad after his wife died in childbirth with one daughter, Abby. Lillian is a single mom after her lover disappeared in the night with two sons a year apart in age, Adrian and Cassius.

They both love their kids, they'd do anything for them, but in different ways. Jeffory will do whatever's right to set an example for Abby, to show her how to be a good person, which results in his death. Lillian will do whatever she can to make it home, and that means never disobeying so she makes herself into a masterful weapon of magick and manipulation and dons a mask to separate Lillian the Mother from Lillian the Juror, one that she leaves at the door when she gets home. Neither of them ever let their kids see the bad parts of being a member of the Jury.

Jeffory dies trying to do the right thing for Abby, only for Abby to not be able to follow in his footsteps because of his death. Lillian raises her kids by the rule of do what I say not what I do, wanting to avoid them following in her footsteps and dooming themselves to a life like hers, only for them to do exactly that.

Cassius ends up in the Jury, which Abby fights against while still trying to be good like Jeffory. She reminds him of the mother he knew at home, and he reminds her of the kind soul in a wicked situation her father was. And their children go on to repeat this cycle that they've started, their families going from old friends to old enemies as the generations pass and no one can be sure how it started anymore.

No one can tell which has good intentions until eventually, one day way down the line in the MyStreet era, Jeffory and Lillian are reborn and the cycle restarts. Jeffory, golden-hearted as he is, opens his arms to the enemy and Lillian, sensing that there is something in him that something in her understands, accepts. Only for them to realize some fourty years down the line that the cycle will continue despite their and their children's best efforts.

[rowdyluv]

Dear Luke

authors note: if you haven’t yet please read “is your brother Luke?” Parts one & two, before continuing. They are the kick off of the AU.

Summary: Lyla writes Luke a letter about what she wanted for him with Lillian if he were to ever receive the letter she was writing.

Warning: this is an “if you’re reading this” style ‘letter’ to Luke, so it is written as if OC expected to die, discusses/mentions abandoning child, mentions illness, ex urging to move on, i believe that is all. This is also meant to be “scattered brained” as Lyla isn’t supposed to be writing a letter like this after she just had a baby. She’s supposed to be spending time with her little one.

Dear Luke,

If you’re reading this, then my parents have already broken their own hearts and handed her over to you. I made them promise to me that if I passed away they would come find you. Lillian deserves to be with her daddy.

I played a lot of your interviews for her and old videos I had of us, so she knows your voice and face. She shouldn’t be too scared of you when she sees you. I always hung on to hope that you would come back to me. I wanted her to know you for when that time came..

The last thing I ever wanted to do was abandon the most perfect baby girl ever. But sometimes the cards you’re dealt end up having a card where you’re chronically ill with something that eventually gets you. I have faith in you that you’ll take her and give her the life she deserves.

Lillian Wren Hughes is everything we ever talked about for us. She is a funny, happy, giggly, and kind baby. I’m glad you get to experience her firsts. Her first tooth coming in and falling out, her first steps, first word, first heartbreak. I’m happy she has you, but you need to have someone too.

Luke, I know you will struggle with this but, it is okay to go out and date someone. Lillian will need a mother figure, outside of your mom. One thing I want from you other than your care for our baby girl is to find someone someday that might actually treat you well. Not someone who uses you for who you are. You need someone who loves you for you.

Last thing of this rambled on, no good emotional tear spotted letter, Lillian has a favorite rabbit. If she is inconsolable, sick, or won’t go down for sleep give it to her and hold her head next to your heart. She will calm down and fall asleep in minutes. (Kind of like someone else I know)

Love,

your Ly

[simswoon]

Lilly had a talk with Lenny 💭ˎˊ˗ (definitely not just because Ollie will push legal actions if he doesn't see the kids soon.)

Transcript:

Lillian: “Hey, Lenny-bear? I want to talk to you about something…” Lennon: “About what, Mommy?”

Lillian: "About your dad. You’ve probably noticed we haven’t talked much about him since we left." Lennon: "Yeah... I miss him."

Lillian: "It’s okay to miss him. But there’s something important you need to understand."

Lillian: “Your dad… he made some choices that hurt us. Choices that made it hard for us to stay happy together.” Lennon: “Is that why you were so sad?”

Lillian: “Yes, honey. That’s why it was important for us to leave. Sometimes, being with someone who makes you sad isn’t good.”

Lennon: “Does that mean... he doesn’t love us anymore? because we left?" Lillian: “No, sweetie. Your dad loves you and Hendrix so much. That’s something I know will never change.”

Lillian: “He wants to see you both. But I want to make sure it’s something you want, too." Lennon: “I… think I’d like to see him. Just to know he’s okay.”

Lillian: "Okay, Lenny. And I’ll be there with you every step of the way, alright?” Lennon: “Thanks, Mom.”

[episims]

Alicia "Ugh, finally. That wasn't comedy, it was torture."

Lillian "That cutscene! Pigeons playing baseball?"

Emil "And they were great at fowl balls! Ha! Good stuff."

Talia "Hugo? Don't leave yet. I have something for you."

Hugo "Um... sure."

Lillian "...Aww. Those two are cute."

Emil "I guess. Their sweet glances are giving me a toothache."

Lillian "A bit lovey-dovey, sure."

Emil "But uh, I'm happy for Hugo, really. Though I kinda thought you and Talia had something going on?"

Lillian "Mmm, sort of. It might've been a friend crush, after all."

Lillian "...It's funny. My mom always says it's natural for werewolves to get jealous, but I've never felt it."

Emil "Hey, you're not obligated to be a walking stereotype. Biology really isn't that straightforward, anyway."

Lillian "Maybe! I don't like thinking about that stuff. I can't smell genes."

Emil "Right... can you smell hormones, though? With this many teens-"

Lillian "Oh, you don't want to know!"

Lillian "But now I do feel the urge to run. And growl. Grrrr."

Emil "Heh. Good night, Lils."

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Alternate Series Finale - Protective Lillian AU

When Lex takes Lena, he's quick to lock the anti-magic device around her wrist. Lena immediately feels the effect-- a weight on her chest, her energy sapping away. But she pushes through it, refusing to let her brother see any weakness. Thus contained, he's confident enough to thrust her into the chamber where he's stowed Esme without further restraint.

"Lena!"

Esme flies into Lena's arms the moment she lays eyes on her aunt. Lena bundles her close, carrying her to sit on the bed as Esme sobs. She soothes her, closing her eyes against the drain of the device on her wrist.

"It's okay," she promises. "I won't let anything happen."

In that moment, Esme's relief is so great, and she feels so loved, that the love totem transfers to Lena. Neither of them notice the change, until Lex comes to check on it, and finds the totem is no longer on the back of Esme's neck. He quickly puts the pieces together.

"You will always fall into the light," he echoes, smirking at his sister.

When it comes time to make the trade for the allstone, Lex does bind Lena's hands, lest she try anything foolish. Regardless, Lena still hoists Esme into her arms, whispering for the girl to hold onto her, and not let go.

At the rendezvous point, Lena stands with Lex and Nyxly, watching the rest of the team gather at the far end of the bridge.

"Release them," Kara orders, her voice stern and fierce as Supergirl.

Lex smirks. "You can have the girl," he allows. "As a show of good faith."

He nods at Lena, who regards him for a long moment before deciding that chances were good he'll honor his word. After all, Esme is no longer of any value to him, now that the totem has chosen Lena.

Lena crouches, setting Esme on her feet. "Go on, sweetheart. Your moms will keep you safe."

"What about you?" Esme asks, her chin wobbling.

Lena gives a reassuring smile. "I'll be okay. I promise."

She presses a kiss to Esme's head, before giving her a gentle push towards the center of the bridge where Alex and Kelly wait. Esme walks hesitantly towards them, then sprints the rest of the way until she's swept up in Kelly's arms and shuffled to the back of the group, out of the line of fire.

"Now the allstone."

"Lena first," Kara demands.

"I don't think so." Lex lifts a small remote in his hand, and clicks a button. In an instant, electric fire arcs through Lena's body, making her scream as she falls to her knees. When it passes, Lena is left gasping, and nearly rolling her eyes.

Of course the device on her wrist would serve a dual purpose.

"The allstone," Lex repeats.

"Supergirl, don't--" Lena's plea comes too late.

Kara reluctantly opens her fist, and the moment it comes into view it flies through the air to settle into Nyxly's palm. She and Lex share a mutual grin of triumph. With a twist of Lex's watch, a portal opens behind them.

When Lex hauls Lena back to her feet, Kara cries out. "You have what you want! Let her go!"

"And let you have her?" Lex tsks. "You should know me better than that, Supergirl."

With that, Lex and Nyxly step back through the portal, dragging Lena with them. The last thing Kara sees before the portal winks out is the fear in Lena's eyes.

----

They shove Lena back in the same room as before, but this time, without Esme to put on a brave face for, Lena falls into the bed, exhausted. With her magic dampened, part of her life force is no longer accessible, and she declines quickly.

By the time Lillian comes to speak with her, she finds Lena feverish and pallid, her sallow skin slicked with clammy sweat. Her eyes barely flicker open when Lillian cups her cheek, smoothing the damp hair from her face.

Lillian is livid. She takes Lex to task when he comes in to visit, but he remains unfazed. "You should know better than anyone how dangerous magic can be," he says. "Isn't that why you hid all those talismans around the house?"

"She's your sister," Lillian reminds her son.

He shrugs. "And my murderer, remember."

When he leaves, Lillian remains. Because what Lex doesn't know is that his mother has pilfered Lena's signal watch. Gazing at her daughter for a long moment, she makes her decision.

She activates the signal.