#i hope she inherited her mother's incredible green eyes

[amber-tortoiseshell]

New Galadriel video from today 😊

[hisui-dreamer]

never too late

Characters: Jade, Kalim, Idia, Malleus

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread

Word count: 4.1k+

Notes: same as the last two, all the name ideas are in japanese. if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese

also wow classical music makes me so inspired i wrote so much

Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 4✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Miharu (翠晴) with 翠 meaning "green, emerald, jade" and 晴 meaning "clear, fine, serene"

your daughter has straight teal hair and slightly angular eyes that are a complete replica of her father's

the name you chose for her has a strong connection to jade, also representing the peacefulness you found in Jade's presence

she's a quiet child who always has this calm smile on her face

she's loves being independent and hates asking other people for help

there are some times when you have to hold her and tell her "hey, you can rely more on your mother you know?"

she doesn't look like she wants physical affection, but when she's accomplished something, you'll notice her staring at you in anticipation

when you reach your hand over to pat her head for a job well done, she smiles so contentedly and just melts at your affection

loves playing around with plants and fungi, and thankfully she's quite good at managing them, so sometimes you can save money on groceries

loves swimming in the ocean, but much prefers clinging onto you in the water

will turn to her eel form if in bodies of water for too long, so you're careful about what times or places have fewer people

incredibly intelligent and good at quick thinking, always curious to learn more about fungi, magic, etc.

seemingly calm when you told her about her intelligent and sly father, but soon after learning about him, she'll ask questions about him a lot and start practising magic more

and when she finally accomplishes teleporting you two to him, you're in a pantry that smells of fresh tea leaves, and he's looking as elegant and charming as ever as he pours water into the teapot, his hair is sleeked back and the grace exudes just puts you in a trance

Jade's eyes widen as he beheld a sight that only seemed possible in his wildest dreams. There, standing before him, was the person he had loved so deeply and had thought lost forever.

"My love... is it really you?" Jade whispers, his voice quivering with a mix of disbelief and hope. His heart thuds in his chest, the sound reverberating through his entire being.

Tears glisten in the corners of his eyes as he closes the distance between you, his steps quickening with a sense of urgency. He envelops you in a tight embrace, his arms holding you firmly, afraid you might disappear once more. "Oh my pearl, how I longed to turn back time and not have let you go, to have kept you here with me," he whispers hoarsely, his voice trembling with a mixture of joy and sadness.

Jade is showing more emotion than you've ever seen and you're both crying and holding each other tightly

eventually, floyd barges in to tell Jade azul's complaint about how long he's taken to make the long-forgotten tea

when floyd sees you, he immediately tries to come over and squeeze you

but Jade is having his moment so he lifts you and keeps you away from floyd's grasp

pouting, instead floyd diverts his attention to Miharu, who's just curiously staring at him

eventually eventually azul shows up to see why everyone has disappeared and he's incredibly surprised to see you two

he complains that Jade will be busy for a while then, but you can see his eyes are teary and there's a soft smile on his face

for quite some time, Jade is incredibly alert when it comes to you, always paying attention to your needs, your feelings, and if you get up in the middle of the night for a bathroom break, he wakes up with you and waits outside the door until he can hold you again, and then he'll carry you back to bed

he didn't realise how important you had meant to him until you were gone, how lost and empty he felt, so best beware, he's never letting you go again

oh he's so cute with Miharu!!! building terrariums together and comparing notes and cooking mushroom meals together

father-daughter swimming sessions!!! sometimes floyd and azul join

definitely pranks azul as a trio, but azul can't get mad at her hahaha

you can tell Miharu is so enthusiastic about spending time with uncle floyd

Jade cries crocodile tears that his dearest daughter prefers his brother over him

and Miharu just tells him "well you belong to mommy, so i'll have uncle floyd"

the twin eels can't say they're unhappy with that arrangement, now can they

and don't forget mama and papa leech! they love spoiling Miharu with trinkets and treasures they find!

Jade's smiling genuinely more than ever, and you can't believe how lucky you are to have both him and Miharu in your arms

You direct your eyes towards Miharu, and his gaze follows yours, a tender smile tugging at the corners of Jade's lips. "And this... is she our child?" he asked, his voice filled with awe. He crouched down, his hands gently cupping her face, his fingertips tracing the familiar features.

"I'm so sorry," Jade confessed, his voice filled with raw emotion. "I've been such a terrible father, I've missed out on so much of your life,"

Miharu's hand instinctively rises to meet his, her small palm finding solace against his cheek. A gentle reassurance emanates from her touch, and her voice, soft yet resolute, pierces through his self-doubt. "It's okay, daddy," she murmurs. "It's not your fault.

Without hesitation, he pulls her into a warm and encompassing embrace, enfolding her in his arms as if shielding her from the world. "Oh, my darling, you are such an angel," Jade whispers against her ear.

Hidaka (陽夏) with 陽 meaning "sun, sunlight, positive" and 夏 meaning "summer"

your son has spiky white hair, glowing tan skin, and ruby-like eyes that often sparkle with joy

you named your son after his father's sunny disposition, and the warmth in scarabia that you look back on fondly in your memories with him

hoo boy you got yourself a piece of bouncing sunshine

he's so bright and happy and warm and there's always a wide smile on his face that makes anyone who sees it feel re-energised

will often do things on impulse out of pure curiosity, but if you tell him off he's immediately apologising and hoping you're not mad at him

snuggles so much!! the first thing he does when he sees you is run up and jump into your arms

he's always willing to share what he has with others, and is friendly with everyone

though he has a big appetite, he's not picky about food and will happily eat anything you give him

he's not the smartest and is rather oblivious much like his father, but he makes up for it with how passionate and motivated he can be

but when he's determined, he can be surprisingly smart

when he heard about the kind and brave man his father was, he was visibly shaking in excitement, firing question after question

and before long, his determination to reunite his family brought the two of you into a dim room lit by a single nightside lantern

Kalim sat at the bed clutching a turban you had gifted him, his face has matured and lost most of its baby fat

Kalim's lips are parted, his breath catching in his throat as he sits there, rooted to the spot. "This... this can't be real," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper, as he takes a tentative step forward, his heart pounding loudly.

His feet move as if guided by unseen forces. His eyes fixate on your face, searching for any sign that this is not a figment of his imagination. A fragile smile begins to form on his lips, the corners of his mouth quivering with a mix of disbelief and joy.

His steps quicken, echoing through the room, each one carrying him closer to the person he thought he had lost forever. And then, in a burst of exhilaration, he is by your side, his arms encircling you with a strength born from the depths of his soul.

"It's you," Kalim gasps, his voice filled with raw emotion. His grip tightens, his embrace both gentle and fervent as he twirls you around in the air, a whirlwind of emotions propelling him forward. Laughter escapes his lips, an expression of pure elation and gratitude. "Thank the heavens you're back! I never thought I'd see you again!"

oh he's crying waterfalls nonstop, you and Hidaka try to comfort him and wipe his tears but he only cries harder at your touch

at this point, jamil bursts into the room,

alert and thoroughly confused why Kalim is crying in the middle of the night

though when he sees you, his expression visibly softens and after asking a few questions to confirm your identity, he genuinely welcomes you back

his reaction to Hidaka is "oh no another one" but with the way he lifts him into the air and the teasing smile on his face you can tell he's not completely serious

after graduation, Kalim worked hard to inherit the Asim family business and has grown to become a successful businessman who cares for his workers and people

jamil willingly offers to take over Kalim's role for a while so that he can spend time catching up with you two, and it's clear from their exchange their relationship has improved a lot

Kalim, despite having seemingly matured, clings onto you like a child and you feel things haven't changed much at all

as the heir, he has been pressured to get married, but it didn't feel right for him when he still longed for you

so he's incredibly glad you can now permanently be the person who stays by his side, showing his affection by showering you with gifts and snuggling with you any chance he gets

he's great with Hidaka too! they're both super energetic and curious though, so occasionally jamil or you have to step in and be the reasonable person

so many impromptu trips on the magic carpet with the three of you just exploring places and going wherever you want!

he's also very very cautious about your security, all of a sudden he has a wife and a healthy heir, so undoubtedly there are some eyes turned to you

but Kalim has grown stronger and wiser to be able to protect what he cherishes, so he's not letting any harm come your way

Kalim gently pulls back, his eyes flickering between you and the little boy who bore an undeniable resemblance to him. "You've brought us such an incredible gift," he whispers, his voice tinged with awe. "A child, our child. I can't believe it..." His voice trails off, trailing into a breathless hush as he tries to comprehend everything.

Bending down gracefully, Kalim positions himself at eye level with Hidaka. "Hello there, little one," he murmurs, his words floating on a cloud of softness. "I'm Kalim, your...dad." The weight of the word lingers on his tongue.

Hidaka's face lights up like a radiant sun, a beacon of pure joy. Without hesitation, he lunges forward, embracing Kalim in a tight hug. Laughter bubbles up from within him, filling the air with a melodic symphony. "My daddy!" he exclaims, his voice a chorus of excitement. "I've always wanted to meet you!"

Kalim's tears fall freely once again as he wraps his arms around Hidaka, holding him close.

Honoka (火華) with 火 meaning "fire" and 華 meaning "flower, splendour, brilliance"

your daughter had bright yellow eyes that seemed to shine in the dark, and seemingly normal curly blue hair, until it would act in a similar way to Idia's hair when she became emotional

you named your daughter after her father's fiery hair, his inner brilliance and potential, and of course, the idea of a flower blooming in the underworld (Persephone vibes hehe)

she's the child who's quiet and introverted on the outside, but has so much to say when she's alone with you

most of the time she's generally soft-spoken, mumbling and acting shy with strangers

but oh wait? there's a pop-up arcade of her favourite show??? gremlin child activated

ridiculously good at games, even if she just learnt the rules, it's very like she'll end up being the winner

you used to spend a lot of time styling her hair, but there were too many instances where soon after finishing styling, her emotions became too unstable and her hair turned into flames

still braidable, just not explainable to strangers

she's kinda like a cat in the sense that she'll act like she doesn't care or not want your touch, but when you pat her head or brush her hair, she just sits still and beams at your affection

definitely clings onto you when there are too many strangers and she's scared

ridiculously smart and good at math and technology, and she had no issues learning magical theory from you

when you told her about the brilliant but shy man her father was, she was dying to meet him when he sounded so similar to her

and after running some tests and calculations, she connected her magic to Idia and the next moment you know, you were in the Styx science lab, with Idia, his hair tied up, his eyebags worse than ever, standing right in front of you

Idia's heart skips a beat as he catches sight of your figure emerging from the radiant light, a surreal moment that defies all expectations. "OMG, it actually worked..." he exclaims, dropping his tablet to the floor, forgotten in his rush towards you.

With each stride, the weight of years apart seems to evaporate, replaced by a resplendent glimmer of hope that grows brighter with every passing moment. His palms grow clammy, but undeterred, he continues his determined approach, craving the warmth of your presence.

He finds himself standing in front of you, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The room seems to shrink, narrowing down to just the three of them, the air heavy with anticipation.

Idia's voice quivers, his words delicate as they tremble in the air, like a fragile melody woven with threads of longing and regret. "I...I can't believe it's really you. I've missed you so damn much." His voice cracks with emotion, his vulnerability laid bare as he reached out to hold you.

Idia's crying and Ortho's right next time him congratulating his success, though there's a loving and emotional tone to his robotic voice

he's holding you so tightly and crying and he just melts into your arms and warmth

soon after graduation, Idia began working more and more at styx to inherit the family business

but a side project of his for the longest time was opening a portal where you could go back and forth between two worlds

and miraculously, his system connected with Honoka's magic and you were back!

idia's incredibly nervous and surprised he has a daughter, and he has a mild panic attack before he's a bit more calmed down with your and Ortho's help

but once things have settled down a bit, you'll start living comfortably with your family in styx

though idia may be busy at times, he always has ortho with you or some cameras near you so you won't suddenly disappear on him

you're basically irreversibly a part of the shroud family now, and in his mind, you really didn't get to choose

his anxiety about you leaving keeps him up at night, but when he wakes up from nightmares and you're the first thing he sees, he slowly calms down and curls his body into you to feel more of your warmth

gaming sessions with Honoka!! he introduces all sorts of his favourite games to her, though you make sure they're not too violent and inappropriate knowing him, and they bond over playing and introducing games to each other

family game nights with you four playing basically Mario party or co-op games!!

and though Idia's still working on breaking the family curse, even more motivated now because he doesn't want it affecting Honoka, he's so grateful fate has finally given him this happiness, to be able to live together as a family with his most cherished people

Trembling with a mix of excitement and trepidation, Idia knelt down to meet Honoka at eye level, his voice filled with a gentle warmth. "Hey there, kiddo. It's... it's really nice to finally meet you." His words carried a hint of awe, as if he couldn't quite believe that this precious little being was a part of him.

Honoka's eyes sparkled with a mixture of curiosity and recognition, her small hand reaching out to touch his hair. She uttered her first words, a tender melody that danced in the air. "You have the same hair as me... Daddy?" she asked curiously.

Tears welled up in Idia's eyes as he comprehended her words, a tender smile graced his lips. His voice choked with love and gratitude. "Yeah kid, I'm your daddy." He pulls her into a hug, "Let's play lots of games together, yeah?"

Keitarou (蛍太郎) with 火 meaning "firefly" and 華 meaning "eldest son"

your son has black hair that fades at the tips to a blue reminiscent of the sky right before sunrise, and shimmering emerald eyes with a reptile-like slit in them

you named your son after the night you first met his father who manifested as fireflies, and a reference to the nickname you chose to call him

your son is very polite to strangers, but he struggles with getting along with his peers

he'd love to make friends, but his aura comes off as overwhelming to other people, so unfortunately he does feel a bit lonely

but he loves it when he's at home with you, when you shower all of your affection onto him and he feels so loved and cherished

he loves his mama so much he always wants to help you with chores and whatnot, but unfortunately he can be rather clumsy and oblivious which leads to more problems being made

but in those situations, you always show him the correct way of doing things, while also reassuring him it's okay he made mistakes, what's important is learning from them

super clingy and cuddly! sometimes he becomes territorial and his dragon tail appears and curls itself around your limbs

you have masterfully disguised his budding horns by wrapping his hair around them, explaining to others than he liked this Halloween costume so much he wanted it done everyday

being half fae, he's incredibly talented at magic and it really does come as second nature to him

when you told him about his charming yet fearsome father, he was really curious about this figure, but also a part of him wondered why his wonderful mama would choose someone like him?

well, mama seems to miss him a lot, and Keitarou loves nothing more than seeing you happy, and all of a sudden, you're standing in the throne room or the dark gothic castle, and right across the room was the King of Briar Valley, his expression stone cold and cautious until he met you eyes

Silver and Sebek, positioned in a defensive stance, braced themselves for whatever entity would emerge from the swirling portal. As the portal dissipated, revealing the figure within, Malleus gasped, his breath catching in his throat. A surge of emotions overwhelmed him, an electric current coursing through his veins.

His steps quickened, propelled by an overwhelming desire to bridge the chasm of time and distance that had separated you for far too long. The distance between you closed swiftly, his graceful stride carrying him closer to the embodiment of his deepest longing. The words that slipped from his lips were laden with a tenderness and longing that only you could evoke.

"My dearest Child of Man, is it truly you?" Malleus murmured, his voice a fragile whisper, as if afraid to shatter the fragile reality that had materialized before him. His outstretched hands trembled, yearning to cradle you once more, to feel the warmth of your presence.

A mixture of awe and reverence coated his words as he continued, his voice barely audible but drenched in profound emotion. "You came back. It's been so long, far too long..." His voice trailed off, swallowed by the weight of the years that had separated you.

he's so shaken the rain has cleared up to bring about a beautiful rainbow that hovered over the castle

silver and sebek go to get lilia, and it's a heartfelt family reunion

they've all seen how Malleus has returned back to his hollow shell of existence after you left, and they're so glad his eyes are glimmering with emotions once again

though some are more direct about it, and others felt the need to rant about how cruel it was to leave them (we love you sebek)

though he's been urged by his advisors to quickly marry and start producing an heir, he's adamantly refused because he firmly believed nobody would ever make him feel the same way you did

there are some advisors who are secretly unhappy with the fact that the queen is human and the new heir is half-human, but nobody would dare say a word when they see the Malleus Draconia act like an oversized puppy dog with his head in your lap

plus, Keitarou magical prowess and intelligence easily put them in their place

Malleus, with your return, has grown more openly dramatic and affectionate

for example, if you mention you like a certain flower, the next day the entire garden is replanted to that exact flower

do calm him down a bit so he won't be too extra with his love language

Keitarou and Malleus sort of have this rivalry between the two of them to get the most of your affections

but they do eventually reach a truce when they both agree you're the most important thing in the world

but you know, general lighthearted sabotage on both ends, Keitarou wants to sleep with his mama, so papa can sleep alone yeah?

no it ends up with the entire family sleeping together and you're sandwiched in the middle

well, at least it's a happy family of two possessive dragons and possibly a baby princess coming on the way?

Keitarou hid behind your legs, his small frame peeking out to catch glimpses of the man standing before you.

"Hm? Is he... our child?" His voice carried a soft tremor, as if he dared not let himself believe in the possibility. But your nod, filled with affirmation and a love that transcended time, set loose a cascade of emotions within him. A serene smile graced his features, radiating warmth and a profound sense of peace.

Malleus turned towards Keitarou, his eyes tender and gentle, a wellspring of paternal affection flowing freely. "Hello, young one," he began, his words carrying a weight of significance that only a father's voice could hold. "I am your father, and it is a pleasure to meet you."

Keitarou's wide eyes glistened with a mix of wonder and cautious hope as he listened to Malleus's gentle words. "Hello," he murmured, his voice filled with a blend of innocence and an innate longing for connection. "I... I'm Keitarou," he continued, his voice wavering slightly but growing stronger with each syllable. "It's... it's nice to meet you, Father."

Malleus's smile widened, mirroring the joy and relief that flooded his own heart. With open arms, he enveloped Keitarou in a warm embrace.

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Part 1✧Part 2✧Part 4✧Masterlist

[xyeh2o]

(Pyrrhia) - Prologue: Odd One Out - Page 2 (redraw & rewrite)

Page 2

           I hope she's in the mood.. Cacti hesitated, wondering if calling on Nebula would be a mistake. She didn’t want to regret disturbing the queen, especially on her first day as the SandWing advisor. She heard Nebula’s eggs were trembling, yet it seemed strange that the queen wasn’t present. What mother, especially one who had maintained peace between seven tribes, wouldn’t attend her own daughter's hatching? The thought nagged at Cacti. It was unlike Nebula.

           I don’t understand why no one’s called her. It’s her dragonet's hatching. Cacti thought, twisting her neck and glancing at the dragons behind her. Her obsidian eyes stared at the gathering of dragons, a frown deepening on her face. There were many here, yet none had bothered to reach out to the Hybrid queen. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement under her absence, but Nebula’s absence was too glaring to ignore.

           Deciding to see the eggs herself, Cacti moved closer to the center. Coincidentally, they were being wheeled out of the vault in front of her as she arrived. SkyWings flanked the wooden wagon, carefully guiding it forward. The wagon itself was plated with gold, intricate designs covering its surface, It looked like it was worth more than Cacti's family home. These dragonets were clearly special, being the next in line to preserve peace across Pyrrhia. The importance of their roles wasn’t lost on her.

           There are five of them?! So many baby dragons! Cacti's eyes widened as she counted the eggs nestled in the wagon. Each egg had a different appearance, which seemed incredible for a single mother to lay. The first was icy and deep starry blue, the second a muddy, sandy color. The third had a reddish-green hue, the fourth a pearly blue gradient. The last egg, however, was so strangely colored that Cacti couldn’t guess its tribe. Though all the eggs were female, five heirs still felt like far too many.

           That could cause problems, she murmured, her snout wrinkled a little.

           Only one of them can become queen, but there are five. The idea of a potential succession war made her uneasy. It seemed unlikely, given that there hadn’t been one since the SandWing succession war almost one hundred years ago. Still, the possibility lingered. Cacti imagined Nebula choosing the most competent dragonet to inherit the throne, but even that decision carried its own risks.

           As a SandWing advisor, Cacti knew she would play a crucial role in guiding these dragonets, almost like a nanny. Not only would she advise Nebula, but she would also have to help shape the future queen. Choosing which of them to mentor would be up to her future self, assuming she didn’t get fired. Then, an unsettling thought crossed her mind.

           What happened to the previous SandWing advisor? The question hung in the air, sending a chill down her spine. She forced a smile, brushing the thought aside.

           Maybe they just got fired. she muttered, trying to reassure herself as she turned her attention back to the eggs.

[freckleslikestars]

as you are, as you were

@imasquint made this post. I wrote something for the first time in...months

Post-series Halloween discussion of vampires and a 25 year old argument

1504 words, read here on AO3

She’s tearing around the house, cape flying out behind her, and it’s clear she’s had far too much candy already, but Scully can only hope that it’ll wear her little body out and she’ll sleep through the night for once. Of course, it’s an unrealistic hope - the kid inherited her father’s distaste for sleep, and she’s all but given up on expecting early nights and lay-ins. Fake fangs sink into her wrist and she looks down with the intent to scold, only to soften at the mischievous hazel eyes gazing up at her. ‘No biting, kiddo.’

‘But I’m a vampire!’ She lisps, and, honestly, what hope is there for the world with the amount of cuteness before her going into it. Maybe she’s getting soft in her old age, but Scully’s convinced that her daughter could take over the whole world with just a sly smile and a flash of innocent eyes. 

‘Yes, you are, darling,’ she lifts her onto her hip, ‘but vampires don’t bite their mommies.’

‘Actually, Renesmee did,’ Jackson points out, ruffling his sister’s hair as he passes, chucking her a chocolate kiss as he takes one for himself from the bowl.

And of course that’s when Mulder has to stick his head around the corner, ‘firstly, Renesmee was only half vampire. And secondly, more importantly, she was fictional. Twilight vampires don’t count.’ 

‘How come? What makes one vampire design more valid than another?’

‘They’re glittery , Jackson.’

‘And? Maybe, Stephanie Meyer was actually being incredibly clever and you’re just prejudiced.’

Scully frowns, ‘isn’t she pro-life and mormon? Either way, please don’t get your father upset about vampires again.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ they cry out in harmony, flinging hands into the air. 

‘I do not get upset about vampires.’ Scully raises an eyebrow at him, and he holds up a defensive hand, ‘I’m merely passionate.’ He’s outdone himself with the family’s costumes this year, a clan of vampires in thrifted old suits and deep red gowns, black capes with red lace stitched around the collar. It surprised Scully when he suggested the first year that he wanted to try and make a Halloween costume for the baby, surprised her even more when he taught himself to sew with YouTube videos and presented her with a tiny astronaut costume. And each year since he’s improved, making whatever the kid asks for. ‘You’re not dressed.’

‘It’s a dress and a cape, Mulder, it’s not going to take me five minutes. Besides, we’ve still got an hour before the party, and the more you get her excited, the more riled up she’s gonna be in the car.’

‘She’s fine, aren’t you, Beanieboo,’ he kisses her forehead before she squirms out of her mother’s arms, dropping to the floor and going back to running circles around the living room. ‘There’s green contacts on the counter in the bathroom. Jackson, there’s some for you, too, if you want.’

He looks up at his parents sceptically, ‘you know, I don’t think green eyes are part of the lore.’

‘Vampires have green eyes, Jackson. I know: I’ve seen them.’

Scully sighs, shakes her head, ‘vampires can have whatever colour eyes you want them to, because they’re not real.’

Mulder groans and drops his head back, yelling out to the ceiling, ‘how are you still denying it after all these years? We met them. You had a thing for one.’

‘Sheriff Hartwell was not a vampire. And, more importantly, I didn’t have a thing for him.’

‘Oh, my god. Then how do you explain what happened?’ it’s like nothing’s changed. They’re married and they live in a little house with a meadow and two kids, it’s twenty five years later, but they’re still having the same old argument, and he for one wouldn’t change a thing.

She looks at him, disbelieving, ‘we were drugged, Mulder. Chloral hydrate. I even have the lab reports to prove it.’

‘Doesn’t explain how Ronnie Strickland survived a stake to the heart.’

‘As I stated in my report at the time, we can fairly confidently hypothesise that you missed his heart.’

‘Oh, we can “fairly confidently hypothesise,” can we? You declared him dead.’ 

‘Yes, and for that, I am gravely sorry. As I did back then, I theorise that he went into shock, his heart stopped for a moment whilst I was checking for his pulse, and then, perhaps, his heart…restarted again.’

‘Spontaneously?’

‘Potentially…’

‘Oh, and nobody noticed? Not the paramedics, not the mortuary staff?’

‘He was in a coma. His life signs were so low they didn’t register, but he was still ticking over, in the background.’

Mulder scoffs, shakes his head, ‘and you think that’s likely?’

‘Well, stranger things have happened.’

‘I mean, it does seem pretty implausible,’ Jackson comments from his perch on the back of the sofa. He’s grabbed a bag of popcorn from the kitchen and is feeding it to his sister as they watch the debate.

The glare Jackson gets from his mother is like nothing he’s seen before, ‘oh, so you’re more willing to believe in vampires?’

He shrugs, ‘I exist.’

‘You’re a miracle, that’s different.’

‘Now, how come miracles exist, but vampires don’t?’ Mulder asks, stealing a handful of popcorn.

‘Miracles are an act of God.’

Jackson shakes his head, ‘nun-uh, can’t use God as a get out of jail free card; it’s too Descartesian.’

‘“Too Descartesian”? How is it “too Descartesian” ?’

Mulder gives her a shit-eating grin and high-fives his son, ‘Descartes had a habit of using God to get out of sticky fallacies. Ergo , it’s too Descartesian.’

‘So, by your logic, if I can’t use God to justify unexplained happenings, you can’t use vampires?’

‘Nope. I have rational reason to believe the population of Chainey, Texas were, in fact, vampires.’

‘What rational reason could you possibly have?’

‘Fang marks.’

‘Ronnie was wearing fake fangs, Mulder. Less convincing ones, might I add, than you’ve made for all of us.’

‘Okay. Just the fact that there were bite marks, that it was very clear they were drinking people's blood.’

‘ Simulated bite marks. Besides, cannibalism doesn’t necessitate vampirism.’

At this point, the five-year-old asks a whispered ‘what’s cabinateism?’ To her brother, and he grins, gnashes his teeth as he tickles her, and hisses, ‘it means eating people, like I’m gonna do to you when I’ve fattened you up nicely with all this candy.’ She squeals and runs away, peels of laughter following her around the living room as he lopes off to chase her, and the vampire debate halts for a moment for both parents to watch, a mix of amusement and concern playing across each of their faces. 

‘Do you think she’s too young to hear all this?’

‘Mm. Probably. Do you think it’s why she doesn’t sleep?’

‘Mm. Probably not. She doesn’t have nightmares.’

‘She’s fine, right?’

‘She’s laughing.’

‘Yeah, she’s fine,’ he pulls his wife in for a kiss, grins when she pulls back.

‘The population of the town of Dudley, Arkansas, were eating people, and they weren’t vampires.’

‘No, but they did have extended lifespans. It’s an interesting possibility to consider, though; the idea that cannibalism and vampirism could be linked. I mean, Barbara Beaumont looked like she was in her early thirties when she was eighty.’

‘She was a mentally ill woman who was heading a cult.’

‘Okay. What about Countess Báthory? She bathed in the virginal blood of young girls to keep her young.’

‘Mulder, firstly, no, she didn’t. There’s no mention in the historical texts of bathing in young girls blood until many years after her death. Secondly, whilst, yes, she probably did torture and murder some girls, the voracity with which she reportedly did so has probably been greatly overstated. And, thirdly, she was fifty when she was arrested, and wealthy. Any reports of her remaining youthful probably had to do with the fact that she wasn’t living in poverty, and most of the witnesses were. What are you looking at?’

He’s grinning at her, boyish and charming still to this day, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to you than I am right now.’

‘Oh yeah?’ she quirks an eyebrow, gives a sly smirk. There’s a crimson gown hanging up in their wardrobe that he’s been talking about for months. She’s going to powder her face and curl her hair and wear red lace panties underneath. She’s going to put in the fangs he’s made for her, and ignore how itchy the coloured contacts are, and spend the whole night encouraging her kid to hurtle around the Halloween party at full speed so that when they come home, she sleeps, and they have a guaranteed four hours in which they can lock the bedroom door. ‘So what you’re saying is, I really don’t need to go and put on my costume?’ His face falls, and her grin widens as she pats him on the chest, ‘don’t worry, I’m heading up now. Hey, why don’t you tell the kids about the Flukeman whilst you wait?’ 

tagging @today-in-fic

[relicsongmel]

Alright I figured since I ramble about them so much it's time I made a post talking all about my two darling girls!!! As some of you already know, these are my two (pseudo) self-insert characters; their primary canon is based around the events of Pokemon Black and White and their sequels.

images made using Picrew and Love Nikki (with the latter having the closest I could get to their canon outfits)

Sylvia Goldwood

Gender: female (she/her)

Orientation: pan(demi)romantic demisexual

Birthday: March 10th

Height: 5'8

Hair color: light blonde

Eye color: aqua

Color scheme: light blues, whites, and silvers/grays with occasional darker blues, yellows, greens, and purples

Ethnicity: Unovan (Martha her mother is from Icirrus City, Roger her father is from Driftveil City)

Interests: music (singing, piano, flute, composition), theater, gardening/botany, baking, poetry, dancing, swimming, boating, foreign languages

Fashion is romantic and feminine with frequent floral elements

Born in Nuvema Town and lived her whole life there

Her father was a musician and aspiring composer who died a little over a year after she was born. Her mother is a florist

Inherited Roger's love of music despite never knowing him. Dedicates herself wholly to the musical arts and shows an exceptional level of skill for her age, but develops burnout as a result of her perfectionist nature and harsh self-criticism born from the pressure she felt to succeed. Leaves on a Pokemon journey for a change of pace and to search for the mythical Pokemon Meloetta in hopes of rekindling her inspiration.

Personality: ambiverted, imaginative, deceptively slow to trust, selfless to a fault

Notable Pokemon: Samurott, Cinccino, shiny Gardevoir

Denise Hitoki

Gender: female (she/her)

Orientation: biromantic demisexual

Birthday: September 10th

Height: 5'4

Hair color: blonde

Eye color: dark gray

Color scheme: greens, browns, and other neutral tones with occasional blues and yellows

Ethnicity: half Unovan, half Johtonian (Jennifer her mother is from Icirrus City, Ryuji her father is from Goldenrod City)

Interests: reading, video games/anime, drawing, writing, playing guitar/songwriting, tree climbing, mythology, history

Fashion is minimalist and practical, avoiding unnecessary flourishes

Born in Ecruteak City and lived there with both parents; moved to Aspertia City with her mother at about 13 years old

Both parents are top-class Pokemon breeders who spent their teens and early twenties competing in competitions worldwide; after their marriage her mother starts a business selling various Pokemon care products. Her father assists her but tends to work from home so he can focus on taking care of Denise

Her parents' marriage grows unstable and her father abandons the family when Denise is 10. She and her mother have wildly different responses to this, which becomes a source of conflict as Dena becomes frustrated with her mother's state of denial and Jen is incredibly ill-equipped to deal with her daughter's grief on top of her own while now facing the challenges of being a single mother. Denise has a long depressive period before she leaves on a Pokemon journey to escape her home life and possibly find her father.

Personality: introverted, blunt, logical, fiercely loyal to her loved ones

Notable Pokemon: Ninetales, Glaceon, Zoroark

Other facts about the girls:

Martha and Jen are sisters, making Sylvia and Denise cousins. They are two years apart in age (with Sylvia as the older of the two) and each leaves on her respective journey at 18 years old.

Sylvia started as a Bleach OC and used to be named Lilybell, while Denise was created for an unfinished lineup of characters representing musical keys (she was D minor, hence her name). Both are drastically different characters now than how I envisioned them at the time of their conception.

Sylvia's tag [#little songbird] is a nickname Roger used for her when he was still alive.

Denise's tag [#forest for the tree] is in reference to her last name, which means "solitary tree." It symbolizes her tendency to isolate herself due to recurring abandonment issues as a result of her father's disappearance, even though trees usually thrive in community by nourishing each other through interconnected root systems. However, after letting go of her fears and allowing others into her life (finding her "forest" so to speak), she becomes a source of shelter, strength, and comfort for those around her.

Sylvia can be shortened to Syl and Denise to Dena (pronounced "DEE-nuh"); they have a few other nicknames but those are the most common ones.

The descriptions in this post pertain to the main timeline; that is, Sylvia and Denise's adventures across Unova and a few other regions they travel to with the background details exactly as described above. Several other AUs exist, most notably two PLA AUs (one for each of them), Denise's Paldea AU in which she and her mother move there instead of Unova, and a few different Sylvia AUs in which her confrontation with Team Plasma plays out slightly differently. In addition to these, I occasionally put my girls in the universes of other franchises (Bleach, Stardew Valley and Ace Attorney to name a few), but many details there are far less consistent considering the characters weren't created with those universes in mind. As such I generally don't like to discuss them as much, but they are very fun nonetheless and often help me recontextualize how I view their canon storyline.

And that's the overview! Thank you to anyone who's read this far—my lovely ladies mean the absolute world to me and I hope you found their backgrounds interesting <3

[dcvilgrams]

All the hearts arranged in rainbow order. And SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES on behalf of The Smiling God

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits?

his creativity, his organizational skills, & his dedication to his family

💔 BROKEN HEART — what are three of your oc's negative traits?

his anxiety/self-doubt, his tendency to jump to often irrational and self-deprecating conclusions, & his dependency on others

💘 HEART WITH ARROW — what and/or who do(es) your oc consider the most important to them?

the thing he considers most important is his family. he worked incredibly hard, suffered so much, & literally even died to keep them and have them stay in his life. nothing is more important to him

🧡 ORANGE HEART — does your oc tend to prioritize family or friends?

to Xhura they are very borderline one and the same, but nothing comes above his family. now his family is self-made and not really comprised of blood-relatives (in the strictest sense) as much as it is comprised of people he is close to, but the circles of 'friends' & 'family' have a very large overlap for him

💛 YELLOW HEART — how many languages does your oc speak? what language(s) are they learning, if any?

as a human, or as I will consider 'actively,' two: english and japanese

but as a demon & especially being tied to Barbatos he obviously knows many more should he need them; which I will call 'passively:' so many

💚 GREEN HEART — does your oc prefer being inside or outside?

it kind of depends on the day & on his mood, but Xhura isn't exactly an outdoors-y kind of guy so more often than not inside

💙 BLUE HEART — does your oc have any cool/special powers and/or abilities? how are they with magic, if it exists in their world?

well, he does have a set of primary & secondary wings as well as a tail; inherited from his transformation into a demon following his permanent stay in the Devildom

he's not the most naturally adept at spells—not like Satan for example—but he does have an affinity for passive magic where his connection with Barbatos is concerned. most of his spellcasting doesn't involve incantations when it isn't very specific magic

💜 PURPLE HEART — what is your oc's ancestry/genetic background?

his lineage on his mother's side can be traced all the way back to Lilith and her human children, while his lineage on his father's side can been traced back to a japanese woman named Ryoko; who the Demon King—Diavolo's father—took as his bride

🖤 BLACK HEART — has your oc killed or seriously wounded anyone before? have they broken someone's heart and/or broken someone's trust?

Xhura did kill a man by the name of Josiah Clarke; a sorcerer who led a twisted and misguided cult of angel-worshippers under the guise of 'Michael,' & who kidnapped Ayla (@houselamentation's mc & Lilith's doppelganger) in the hopes of turning Ayla into Lilith through perverse magic

dude had to die. I think that much is obvious

as for breaking someone's trust... well it could be argued that he broke Ayla's trust when he was the one who suggested to Diavolo that she be temporarily barred from the Devildom following the incident involving her developing magic & the Ring of Light...

but that's more a matter of opinion. he thought he was doing what was best for Ayla in the hopes that she would get help

🤍 WHITE HEART — what are three of your oc's neutral/questionable traits?

everything must be color-coded, his eye color changes based on the situation & his mood & who he is with, & he unknowingly named his zombie iguana plushie Spooge & refuses to rename it even though he now knows what the word means

😊 SMILING FACE WITH SMILING EYES — what are your oc's career/general life desires? what do they want to get the most out of life?

Xhura never really had any life goals once he was forced to move away from japan & his dream of attending university there & becoming a historian was taken from him

now, though, he's fully embracing a future working towards becoming a royal historian for the Devildom, taking great care in his duties as a Lord of Hell, & wants to help realize Diavolo's dream of peace

details about ocs! | my ask

[silenzahra]

My first Super Mario fankid: Violet "Violetta" Fiorella 💜✨

Surprise! 😄

(I know I'm VERY late jumping on the trend of Super Mario fankids, but I'm afraid I'm a very slow writer, and also, I've been incredibly busy lately, but hey, better late than never I guess!)

Even before I lost my old blog, I came up with the idea of my very first Super Mario fankid, and since Luaisy are my favorite couple, of course they had to be the parents! 💚🧡

Since I can't draw, I've used a couple of picrews to create my girl, both as a little child and as a teen, and you'll see that I actually really liked the second picrew as I just couldn't stop creating more and more outfits for her 🤭 (There are actually a couple that I haven't included but I'm always happy to show them if you're interested because she looks so CUTE).

I've been working on this little girl for a couple of months now and I couldn't wait any longer to introduce her to you all at last! Besides, today is the perfect day because it's her birthday, so I hope you're ready to meet Luigi and Daisy's first daughter! 😄💜 (in my lore of course!)

Special thanks to my beloved big sister @vulpixfairy1985 for helping me out regarding some of the nicknames for my beloved Violet! I owe you big one 🫂💖

@bberetd @megamagimugi @peaches2217 @oh-my-gosh-its-j0sh @pepperycar

@kelbreyworshipper @keakruiser @dragon-fly34 I thought perhaps you'd be interested in meeting this little girl 😊 Also, @itsavee4117, you might find a little surprise regarding this post 🤭💖

You'll also find hints to two of my stories, Green, Orange and a bit of Purple and Biggest fear, as well as my own headcanon posts: Mario and Luigi Musicians, Luigi the Bookworm and Luigi serenades Daisy. Also, here are the picrews I used: this one and this one.

Without further ado, let's-a go! ✨

✨💜 Violet "Violetta" Fiorella 💜✨

Violet: age 5 - age 13

Violet Fiorella is Luigi and Daisy's first daughter. She was born at dawn on the first day of autumn, being a late baby, as she was expected five days earlier. She inherits Daisy's facial shape and Luigi's slim, lanky body. Her mouth and nose are like her mother’s, while her eyes and hair, she got them from her father. Her skin is tanned like Daisy's, and her cheeks, rounded like her uncle's, are dotted with freckles.

Her name was chosen not only because of the flower, but also because it alluded to her mom's favorite color, purple. Her dad wanted to add a middle name reminiscent of flowers, but in Italian, his native language, so that his daughter’s European roots would be important in her life from the very beginning.

Early years

Almost from the moment she was born, Violet proved to be a very sweet and giggly child. She’s always smiling and showering everyone with hugs, and as soon as she learns to give kisses, it becomes her favorite way to interact with others. Her father holds her in his arms? Kiss on the cheek. Her mother tucks her in to sleep? Kiss on the forehead when Daisy leans into her. Aunt Peach and Uncle Mario bring her a new toy to add to her collection? She hugs and kisses them as she laughs nonstop, and of course, they melt.

Violet is brave, daring and very curious. She wants to explore the world on her own, no matter how dangerous it can be or how small she still is. Everything catches her attention. Her dad's mustache, which she starts to pull almost every day as soon as she learns to grab things. Her mom's freckles, which she traces so enthusiastically that more than once she’s been about to stick her tiny finger in Daisy's eye. Uncle Mario's hat, which she doesn't hesitate to steal from him every time she’s with him, which gets a few laughs out of Mario, especially when he sees how big the garment is for his niece. Aunt Peach's brooch, so bright and shiny that she can't help but try to take it off. Always so practical, Peach finds the perfect solution: she gives Violet a small pendant with the same type of jewel embedded in it, so that aunt and niece match.

Because of the adventurous spirit that runs through her veins, Violet is not afraid of anything. From the instant she starts crawling, she starts wandering around her home on her own, taking advantage of the slightest occasion when her parents look away from her, even if it's only for a mere second. This makes Luigi and Daisy twice as vigilant, especially when she starts to walk. They’re forced to take certain measures to make their house completely safe for their intrepid little daughter, such as covering all the sockets or putting fences in the most unexpected places.

Violet learns at a very early age that, when she wakes up, it’s better not to cry, but to climb the bars of her crib, so that she can escape to explore on her own without her parents' supervision. Luigi and Daisy, exhausted after watching over her safety and dealing with her inexhaustible energy during the day, receive no warning that their daughter has woken up and thus they must be alert again. Also, because their little girl is so active, Luigi and Daisy often fall fast asleep after putting her to bed and sleep very soundly, so Violet knows that every morning, she has precious time before either parent wakes up and the fun is over.

Fortunately, from the first time this happens, Polterpup is quick to come to the aid of his new little friend. As soon as he notices that Violet has climbed out of her crib, he rushes to her side. Luigi and Daisy usually leave their bedroom door open so that Polterpup can comfortably get in and out during the night instead of walking through the walls, which is why Violet has no trouble reaching the stairs. Polterpup barks at her, worried that she might hurt herself, but since the toddler won’t stop exploring, the dog lunges forward just as she jumps up and the girl falls onto his back with a loud laugh that turns into a squeal of excitement.

Which, at last, causes her parents to wake up, and as they rush out of their room, they find Violet riding on Polterpup and laughing happily while the puppy, barking enthusiastically, carries her back and forth through the house as if they were in the middle of a race. It is here that Luigi and Daisy realize that they must do something if they want to prevent their daughter from getting hurt and their poor ghost dog from having to babysit her.

While Daisy was pregnant, Luigi acquired the habit of reading for some minutes every night before bedtime, not only to her as it’s become their custom since they started dating, but also to their baby. He has vivid memories of his mama reading to him and Mario when they were little, and he wants to keep this beautiful tradition. He used to stand cross-legged next to Daisy, holding a book in his hand while stroking her belly with the other, and Daisy used to fall asleep to the soft cooing of his voice. After Violet was born, Luigi continues to do this, this time carrying his little girl in one arm while Daisy, after breastfeeding her, rests at his side. Both mother and daughter fall peacefully asleep listening to Luigi, giving him a few minutes to enjoy the warm presence of his two flowers without interruption.

Because of this, as she grows older, Violet proves unable to rest without her dad's goodnight story, which fills him with pride and joy. As soon as she learns to grasp things, like a good curious child, Violet begins to take her father's books away from him to glance through them and examine them herself, observing them as closely as if they held all the secrets of the universe. Luigi has to hold back tears of emotion when he realizes that his beloved little daughter will be a bookworm like him.

In Luigi and Daisy's home, music is never absent. It was key during their courtship and continued to be so after they got married, and of course also when they welcomed their first daughter. In fact, soon after returning home from giving birth, Daisy gets into the habit of taking her baby in her arms and gently rocking while sweetly singing and cuddling her, and Violet giggles with delight. Luigi often joins them, sometimes even grabbing his ukulele to improvise some tunes, as he used to do for Daisy.

This way, Violet begins to adore music and dance from a very young age and falls completely in love with her dad's instruments when he uses them for her for the first time, especially his guitar. She grows up surrounded by notes, chords and dances, and learns to keep time almost at the same time as she learns to clap her hands. Music and dance are in her blood, and her parents couldn't be prouder.

Since Violet is named after a flower, Luigi takes her to his garden when she’s only a few months old and begins to show her the plants and flowers and tell her about each one. To no one's surprise, as soon as Violet discovers the beautiful flowers with which she shares a name, she begins to feel a special fondness for them, and as soon as she learns to express herself a little, she asks to always wear something purple in her outfit, preferably with a flower pattern. Luigi teaches her how to braid flower crowns, and him and Violet together, they create a series of different crowns that she then gives to Daisy under Luigi's attentive and moved gaze.

Given that both her father and uncle are of Italian descent, they often speak in their native language to the girl ever since she’s born. Luigi, moreover, often calls her Violetta, the diminutive form of her name in Italian, and she adores it and always showers him with kisses whenever her dad addresses her by that nickname. She also loves that Uncle Mario calls her by her middle name, Fiorella, or that he uses some of the affectionate nicknames he’s given her, such as Fiorellino or Petalo, both words that refer to flowers in Italian. After all, as Mario always tells her, she is his favorite flower of all those that exist in the world.

Daisy, for her part, usually speaks to her little girl in Spanish. Most of the songs she sings to her as a baby while rocking her in her arms are in her native language, many of them written and composed by Luigi, Daisy's favorites. The princess also buys tales in Spanish for her daughter, and joins her husband in reading them to her, with Luigi narrating and Daisy playing the characters, gesturing in an exaggerated manner to make Violet laugh. Besides, Daisy calls her Violeta, the Spanish version of her name, but she does so with a different intonation from Luigi, which makes Violet always able to differentiate the way her name sounds in her parents' respective languages. Daisy often chooses to call her “florecilla” or “mi pequeña flor,” which brings the most radiant smile to the little girl's face, and she doesn’t hesitate to hug her mom and shower her with kisses.

Besides being very active and curious, Violet is also very imaginative. The stories Luigi tells her prompt her to ask him many questions in search of other ways in which this or that story could have ended, and Luigi always encourages her to invent the ending she likes the most. And Violet does: with her eyes sparkling with excitement, she tells him how the evil witch or the ruthless ogre is defeated by a brave warrior in shining armor who defends and protects the princess before anyone can harm her. Many times, she even draws the scenes she invents with her colored pencils. Luigi treasures each of her drawings with all his affection, but Daisy worries that they have almost no room left on the fridge to hang them.

From a very young age, Violet shows a great affinity for sweets that becomes excessive over time. She is often discovered by Daisy or Luigi in the kitchen, climbing on the counter with the help of Polterpup and stealing cookies, and this scene keeps repeating over time even after her parents start to devise new hiding places for the cookie jar. Also, when Luigi and Peach prepare a cake together, they can't leave it unattended for a second, especially if it's chocolate, Violet’s favorite flavor, or else they'll run into the toddler attacking the cake with her tiny fingers and devouring the cake frosting before going for the sponge cake. Just like her mother.

Over the years, her parents try hard to teach her to be patient and wait for the cake or cookies to be served during tea time, and, of course, they set her limits when it comes to sweets. For, on more than one occasion, Violet has been sick to her stomach for having such a sweet tooth and disregarding her parents' advice and warnings.

One thing she’s inherited from Uncle Mario, besides his adventurous spirit, is his stubborn side. Even though Violet is usually a quiet baby, on very rare occasions she throws tantrums that cause her face to turn as red as her uncle's cap and Luigi to seriously fear for the endurance of her lungs. Fortunately, Daisy soon discovers that, as in Mario's case, it is Luigi and Peach who can get little Violet to calm down as quickly as possible.

As she grows up, Violet’s stubbornness continues to show up, although, fortunately, not very often, as the gentleness inherited from her father is stronger.

Family

Luigi and Violet often have fun gardening, singing together around the house and going to the children's section of the library or bookstore. The girl already has her own bookshelf in her room, and Luigi is more than happy to help her expand it so they can read her new addition together. As his daughter slowly grows up, Luigi develops the habit of telling Violet stories at any time beyond bedtime: while feeding her, while dressing her, while bathing her... And Violet is always spellbound listening to him. It is, in fact, thanks to Luigi that Violet develops a love for reading and stories and, indeed, she ends up becoming a bookworm like her father.

Since becoming a father, Luigi has composed numerous songs for his daughter, many of them created half-heartedly with Mario, who also melts with love for his niece. Often, Luigi grabs his guitar and starts singing to Violet, who promptly joins him in clapping her hands and singing the lyrics in unison. This is how many mornings tend to pass in Luigi and Daisy's home, and it isn't long before Violet asks to attend a concert by her dad and uncle. Unfortunately, she’s too young by then (four years old), so she still has to stay at home.

When Violet is one year old, her parents try playing a movie for the first time, and find that the girl seems entertained, but, halfway through the film, Violet suddenly gets up and asks her parents to go out into the garden to run and play a bit. Daisy almost melts when she realizes that her daughter has inherited this from her, as she needs to do exactly the same thing every time she sits down to watch a movie with Luigi. Little Violet's energy is just as inexhaustible as that of her mother.

It's thanks to this that Violet and Daisy start to go out into the garden to run and climb trees together as a way to let out their endless adrenaline. They also have a great time dancing around the house and improvising karaoke sessions that delight Luigi. Daisy encourages her daughter to unleash all her energy and bring out her wild side, no matter what anyone says. Not only does she not scold her for wallowing in the mud after the rain, but she joins her and they end up laughing together in the middle of a mud puddle, with Luigi shaking his head resignedly, but unable to erase the loving smile off his face.

Eventually, moreover, Daisy begins to teach her daughter how to fight, not only as another way to let her adrenaline loose, but also so that she can stand on her own two feet. At the same time, she shows her the different dances typical of the four kingdoms of Sarasaland and encourages her to continue cultivating her mind in the company of her father. Thanks to Daisy, Violet becomes an excellent warrior, as well as an expert in the original dances of the empire over which she will one day rule.

Aunt Peach loves to organize tea parties with her niece, and Violet has a great time playing princesses with her and all her toys. Peach also loves to do her hair and sew her not only clothes, but also stuffed animals, and she often takes her niece shopping. Violet doesn’t have a specific preference for one type of clothing, but likes everything: dresses, skirts, pants, overalls, blouses, shirts... And the same goes for colors, although she has a certain inclination for blue, purple and pastel shades.

So she loves it when Peach surprises her with new dresses or a trendy jeans and blouse outfit, clearly influenced by the culture Mario and Luigi come from. Peach and Daisy often get together for snacks and shopping and take little Violet with her, whether it's to buy her clothes or books, treat her to ice cream or take her to the park to play. And she has a great time going out with her mom and aunt.

Later on, moreover, Peach decides that she should start teaching Violet how to behave in court, because, after all, her niece is the heiress of the Sarasaland empire. Luigi, despite not being an expert in the matter, joins her whenever he can, imitating his friend's gestures to make sure he instills them in his daughter, but Peach is the main one in charge of telling Violet about the best way to run a country and about the importance of diplomacy to establish good relations with other kingdoms.

With Uncle Mario, the girl has even more ways to release all her adrenaline. He always encourages her to play active and fun games that make her run around the house or the garden and laugh out loud, so that when it's time to go to sleep, she usually falls asleep right away, which both Luigi and Daisy appreciate. Mario has a great time playing tag with his niece, playing hide-and-seek, or pretending to be a huge monster that wants to catch her to tickle her. Other times, on the other hand, he happily pretends that she’s a brave and fearless heroine who valiantly faces the monster and takes it down with the same weapon: tickling. Mario himself often sleeps like a baby after spending an afternoon in the company of his niece.

Just as Daisy begins to teach her daughter how to fight, Mario does the same. He teaches her different techniques from Daisy's, so that Violet knows a variety of ways to defend herself if necessary, and he’s also the first one to show her the power-ups. With Luigi's permission, Mario starts with the simplest one: the mushroom, which makes Violet laugh hysterically as she looks much bigger and taller than she is. Later, both brothers show her the Tanooki Leaf, with great enthusiasm from both of them, although Luigi can’t help but feel a bit nervous and even fearful for his daughter’s safety. For the Fire Flower though, they decide to wait until she is older.

Violet loves alone time with each member of her family, especially her father, but she loves it when they all go out together to enjoy a picnic or shopping at the Coconut Mall. This gives her the opportunity to sing and dance with them all, to play her craziest games with Uncle Mario, and to take her favorite plushies for her and Aunt Peach to take care of together.

From a very young age, Violet loves to be dressed like Peach and Daisy, with long and beautiful dresses and wearing on her head her own “little princess” crown, a gift from Aunt Peach for her eighth birthday, when she also gives her this nickname. This is a custom that Violet never loses, as she’s very aware of her role as future heiress of Sarasaland, and wears her dresses and crown with pride, always feeling comfortable in her princess attire.

Even though she has dresses of all colors and for all tastes, her favorites are those in her parents' signature colors, being the ones that remind her of her uncle and aunt the second ones in the list. Of course, Violet loves to give them her own distinct touch with her light blue or lilac stockings, always with floral patterns.

On the other hand, she also loves to wear overalls and pretend to be a great plumber like her dad and uncle, and she continues to wear these garments as she grows up, as she finds them very comfortable and manageable. And both Luigi and Mario are unable to hide their excitement at the sight of their beloved Violet wearing an outfit so similar to their own, even when she’s no longer a child.

Violet loves to combine her parents' colors in her outfit and mix them with the blue of her overalls or the purple and orange of the flower crowns she often wears in her hair and that her mother gladly lends her. Her favorite overalls are dark blue, similar to her father's, although she also has some lilac ones that she adores dearly. She also loves the striped socks that Luigi usually wears, though in Violet's case, she prefers to wear them green, orange or yellow. Sneakers are her favorite footwear, comfortable and perfect for running, dancing or fighting, and she has them in several colors.

Mario and Luigi's family adore little Violet with a passion. Mia and Pio are always over the moon when her parents bring her to Brooklyn, and they often go out together as a family to show her where her dad and uncle grew up. Mia also sews tons of clothes for her granddaughter, often agreeing with Peach to combine their skills and create a lovely outfit for Violet between the two of them. Pio loves to take her out and play with her and is incredibly proud every time he discovers that his granddaughter has inherited some of his traits.

Violet loves devouring the delicious pizzas at Punch-Out Pizzeria and running around Central Park chasing the ducks, especially after hearing the story of the vampire duck that attacked Luigi the first time he and her mom went out together. Also, when Luigi first takes her to his favorite bookstore in Brooklyn, she falls in love with it at first sight.

In the Mushroom Kingdom, as the niece of Princess Peach and her consort husband, Violet is treated with all the comforts and luxuries, as befits a little princess. She’s adored by all the Toads, court, palace guards and ordinary citizens alike, and they keep greeting her and giving her gifts whenever Luigi and Daisy take her for a visit. Mario and Luigi's best friend even proclaimed himself as little princess Violet's new best friend from the day he met her, and she always has lots of fun going on picnics with him or embarking on a new and not at all dangerous adventure together. Like spotting squirrels around Peach's castle or hanging on to the legs of a bramball for at least five seconds without getting a puncture. Besides, Toad tells the best jokes and always knows how to make his little friend laugh.

In Sarasaland, of course, Violet is treated with all the honors that the future empress deserves. King Crisanto is delighted in his role as grandfather, and all of Daisy's other parents also shower her with attention and make sure to remind Daisy of all the fighting techniques she learned with them so that she can pass them on to her daughter when the time comes.

Pre-adolescence

At age thirteen, Violet is a happy child who has a multitude of hobbies and skills and who knows she’s loved and adored in her family. Despite her young age, she’s well aware of her future responsibilities as the ruler of such a large and immense country and has made an effort to learn all about the different cultures native to each kingdom. She’s visited them many times with Daisy and Crisanto, and thanks to Luigi, she’s able to recite the history and customs of each of them without a moment's hesitation. Of course, the values and knowledge that Peach has instilled in her make her a very educated and intelligent little princess.

Violet loves to read. Usually, shortly after returning from school and after spending some time with her parents, she usually locks herself in her room to read and is absorbed by the stories she consumes in exactly the same way as her dad. Even so, the restless and energetic nature she inherited from Daisy requires that, after a couple of hours, she switches from reading to a more lively activity, such as dancing or going out into nature to run with Polterpup and climb trees. Daisy often joins her, and the two feel as connected as they did when Violet was a girl.

Despite this, there are times when their characters clash. Violet is still as sweet as the first day, but when she gets angry she’s more prone to have an argument with her mom, who tends to get angry very easily. That's when Luigi intervenes: alone or with Peach's help, he prepares a delicious cake and leaves it, on purpose, in the middle of the living room, so that both mother and daughter are attracted by such a delicacy and end up attacking it together, with their bare fingers, just like Violet did when she was little. It is during this little moment that they begin to talk and end up making peace, after which Luigi comes out of his hiding place and hugs his beloved flowers tight, satisfied that he achieved his purpose. Fortunately, these discussions don't happen very often, or else not only Violet would get sick, but Daisy as well.

Thanks to Uncle Mario, Violet is quite an expert on all the types of power-ups that exist, and Luigi and Daisy have made sure to extend this knowledge to her as far as Sarasaland is concerned, since, as Mario well made sure to teach her, not all power-ups can be found with the same ease everywhere. Her favorite is, without a doubt, the Tanooki Leaf, as there’s nothing that matches the feeling of flying and freedom that this power-up gives her. However, she also loves how powerful throwing fireballs or ice balls makes her feel and has no qualms about admitting that she loves seeing her dad and uncle transformed into cats. She often giggles hysterically before she starts chasing after them to cuddle with them, something she’s done since she was a little girl.

At last, after much insistence, Violet has obtained parental permission to attend Luigi and Mario's concerts. In the reserved area set aside for their families, Violet stands against the fence, with her arms resting on it, screaming and jumping up and down during the concerts. She considers herself her father and uncle's number one fan, and knows absolutely all their songs by heart, whether they are in English, Spanish or Italian. Violet speaks all three languages fluently and has no preference when it comes to singing or communicating.

Shortly before her twelfth birthday, she began attending royal receptions in the company of her parents. At these times, Luigi encourages her to remember everything that Aunt Peach has taught her, and Violet proves that she’s very good at handling herself in court. Maybe even better than her parents, as she seems to have inherited it naturally from her grandpa In addition, she usually dresses very stylishly, especially thanks to her aunt, who always takes her wishes and opinions into account when it comes to giving her new dresses or sewing them herself. However, as a rule, Violet usually wears leggings under her wide skirts, mostly influenced by her mom, who insists that she should always be prepared for a fight and therefore as comfortable as possible. Peach supports this decision and even starts sewing her own leggings for Violet as well.

Violet is an expert in the specific care that each flower and plant needs to grow. Even though she has many interests, being surrounded by nature is what she’s most passionate about in the world, so she’s decided that while she must become the empress of Sarasaland someday, she wants to have her own corner full of beautiful flowers just for herself. Her grandfather has immediately made sure to set up a beautiful greenhouse on the grounds of Sarasaland Castle and has ordered seeds to be brought in from all over the empire so that his granddaughter will feel right at home every time she comes to visit.

Crisanto never hides how proud he is of his granddaughter and how much he adores her just the way she is. Violet loves spending time with him and listening to him talk about the plants native to the different kingdoms of Sarasaland, and often Luigi and Daisy join them and add a few details. Luigi also brings some seeds from Earth for his daughter, and with Peach's help, they grow them together in the Sarasaland greenhouse.

Mario and Daisy continue to train her daily and give her new challenges and tests, both with and without power-ups, to further reinforce her strength and defense skills. At the same time, Peach and Luigi educate her in manners, culture, history and other important subjects for her education and future.

Thanks to Luigi and Peach, Violet knows how to be the perfect princess.

Thanks to Daisy and Mario, Violet knows how to be the perfect warrior.

EDIT: Adding here the links to the beautiful drawings made by some of my incredibly talented friends!

-@bberetd's sketch of Violet Fiorella (+ Daisy + NES Peach). -@itsavee4117's fanart of Violet, her family and his fankiddos. -@megamagimugi's drawing of Toddler Violet and Polterpup. -@bberetd's idea/headcanon of little Violet. -@smokszyvverstar's fanart of Violet and Luigi. -@bberetd's doodle dump of Violet and her parents. -@dragon-fly34's drawing of Violet and a hint to her OC Laura. -@megamagimugi's comic adaptation of Boma's idea (sketch here). -@megamagimugi's drawing of Fire Violet. -@supergay-64's drawing of little Violet.

Full post here 💜

Thank you all so so much! I'm truly so blessed 💖

[myherowritings]

PART 2. LOVE IS FAKE, MARRY A WEALTHY SUITOR

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.5k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. thank u guys for all the positive feedback on this series so far and i really hope u enjoy this chapter too ! ^-^ xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

It seemed your subtle pleas to the gods to see the mysterious businessman again had been answered, since only the day after Shouto gave you a $100 tip, you saw him at the cafe. 

You looked to the skies with a hint of suspicion. This seemed too easy— You were expecting at least a few weeks of your heart pining as you wondered where-oh-where your dreamy customer could have gone. But instead, after a mere 24 hours later, you saw him enter the store in a pair of pressed trousers and a light blue, button up shirt that was rolled just below his elbows. 

Blinking, you drew your attention away from his exposed forearms. You knew he was attractive from your first encounter, but was he always this hot? 

Sadly, you couldn’t focus too much on that since he had to get behind the line and obstruct himself from your view, and you had to take the order of the next customer. 

“Hi! I can take the next person in line.” You smiled. “Good morning! What can I get started for you today?”

After repeating that five or so more times and starting a few drinks on hot bar, you finally reached Shouto’s place and, thankfully, there didn’t seem to be too many patrons piling behind him. 

“Good morning, Shouto!” you greeted when he stepped forward to the counter. “How are you this morning?”

“Better now that I saw you.” 

Your smile faltered as your cheeks heated up, but you tried to brush it off with a laugh. While Shouto had the definite looks of a so-called businessman playboy, his words held none of the flirtatious intonation as one might expect. In fact, he sounded like he genuinely meant it— Like he was only stating a simple fact and had no reason to be shameful. 

It felt both like an attack on your heart and like a refreshing glass of water at the same time. 

“How about you?” he continued. 

“I could say the same thing,” you said with a chuckle, but you found yourself meaning everything you told him. Though you didn’t expect to see him again at the cafe so soon, you couldn’t deny the instant he walked through the doors, your morning felt just a little bit brighter. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, but this is a pleasant surprise.” 

Shouto had the decency to look a little bashful as he averted his gaze slightly. “Yeah. I…really liked the...cheese danishes.” 

Surprised, a small giggle left your lips. “Don’t tell me you finished all three dozen of them!”

“Well…” He looked even more sheepish. “I didn’t exactly… I guess you could say that.” 

“I’m glad you liked them so much you came back for more,” you teased, looking down at the pastries from the oven you just stocked. “Sadly, our fresh pastry today is a chocolate croissant. I can tell my manager to have cheese danishes made again soon though!”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll try the chocolate croissants today then. Maybe five dozen this time.” 

Five multiplied by twelve… A whole 60 chocolate croissants? Were they all for him? You shrugged, not one to judge. If someone wanted to eat 60 croissants, so be it. Though you did hope he wouldn’t eat it all in one sitting. That might give him a stomachache. 

“Alrighty, five dozen chocolate croissants,” you repeated as you typed it into the register. “And would you like any beverages with that? Another flat white maybe?” 

“Actually, I’ll have a large macchiato with two extra shots of espresso this time.” 

You nodded with a hum. “Long day ahead?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“I hope the coffee and croissants can carry you through, Shouto!” you said, wishing his day would go by smoothly. “Will that be all for you today?”

“Thank you, Y/N. I hope so too. And yes, that’s it.”

“Great. $73.24 is your total then! Will you be paying in card again?” 

He nodded. 

“Go ahead and scan and sign when you’re ready.”

You busied yourself by writing his name and order on a large cup and starting the espresso pulls. Your manager was helping get the pastries and other orders ready this morning, so it was nowhere near as hectic as yesterday. 

“Your order will be to your right. It was nice seeing you again, Shouto.” You smiled, giving him a small wave and already wishing you could hold the line up to talk to him longer. “See you tomorrow morning?” you asked almost hesitantly.

He returned your smile with upturned lips of his own. “Yeah. Tomorrow.” Before he left the counter, he pulled out another $100 bill—did he go to a dry cleaners to have his cash steamed and ironed? It was almost ridiculously crisp—and handed it to you. “A tip to show my appreciation for your service.”

“A-Again?” you stammered, eyes wide. That was $200 in two days from just his tip alone. That was more than you made in two weeks when you worked part-time! “Are you sure?”

Whether he had money to spare or not, this was incredibly generous of him and you would never have expected this amount from anyone. And it wasn’t like Shouto made it a scene for everyone in the shop to look at and gawk; he was subtle yet unashamed. Like he wanted to do it for no other reason than to do it. 

“Of course. You deserve it for your work, Y/N.”

The customer behind him made an impatient noise and you winced. You wanted to be able to thank him more, but all you had time for was a simple, “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

Shouto nodded in response before walking to the other side of the cafe to wait for his order while you managed the other customers in line, a fuzzy but warm feeling lingering in your stomach from your bizarre interaction. Money or not, you enjoyed seeing him in the mornings and were already looking forward to your brief conversations that would take place the next days to come.

He certainly gave you something to look forward to amidst the inconsiderate customers who barely saw you as human every morning. Sometimes, that was all you could ask for. 

When Shouto left the store and the line had died down towards the end of rush hour, your manager approached you with a curious look on her face. 

“That guy named Shouto…?” Miyazaki said. 

You nodded. 

“A friend of yours?”

“You could say that… We just met yesterday’s morning shift,” you said as you finished up the green tea latte for one of the remaining stragglers from the last hour’s boom. “But he’s really friendly I think.”

“You only recently became associated?” she asked, lifting a brow. “It seemed like you two were quite chummy today.” Then, nudged your side. “He was rather attractive don’t you think? And rich-looking.”

Fumbling with the lid on the beverage, you stifled a surprised cough. Sure, you got along with your boss and thought she was one of the more understanding and kind individuals you have worked under, but gossiping about the looks and potential income of a customer with your 56-year-old manager was not on your bingo sheet as a worker here.

“I…” You called out the order for the latte before turning back to your manager. “He is.”

“Ooh, he’s rich?”

“I meant he’s attractive!” you sputtered, feeling abashed at her blunt words. You thought of the tip he gave you in your pocket and his orders of dozens of pastries. “Rich…maybe so. Not that it matters!” 

Miyazaki tsked. “Of course it matters! Marry rich and your life will be easier. That’s what my mother told me and what her mother told her.” She shook her head. “Should’ve listened.” 

You laughed, feeling only a little awkward. It wasn’t the first time you heard that sentiment from someone older than you. It wasn’t uncommon for family members or even workers you were close to to share that same advice—if you could even call it that.

While you agreed money could make a lot of things easier, marrying someone for wealth didn’t appeal to you. But you recognized that even that may come from a place of privilege to be able to say. 

“He seems like a wealthy suitor for you, yes?”

“Suitor—?” you choked out. “No! I mean— We just met! We don’t know anything about each other really.”

She sighed, “Young people and their obsession with marrying someone they ‘know’ for true love. When do you really know someone anyway?” Waving a hand she changed the topic. “But enough of that. What I wanted to say was next time that man comes in here, we can offer him a complimentary box of a dozen pastries— Since he’s spent so much in so little it feels like the right thing to do.”

“Sure. A complimentary dozen.” Finally. Work. A topic you felt much more comfortable talking about. “That, I can do.” 

“And then maybe offer a hand in marriage while you’re at it.”

“Mrs. Miyazaki!” you gasped, feeling only mildly affronted. 

“I joke.” She ruffled her hair and smoothed down her apron. “I’m going to make more pastries now. Can you hold up the front?” 

“You can count on me.”

“I know I can. Thanks for your hard work!” 

And with that, she headed to the backroom where the kitchen was to leave you alone with your thoughts in a quiet cafe. Rush hour ended so there were only a few customers trickling in, most much kinder and more pleasant to talk to than the bustling businessmen of the earlier shift. 

Throughout your small conversations with the patrons, you found yourself thinking back to two things— One, how interesting traditional values and teachings in collectivist cultures were and questioning where you fell into place with them, and two…wondering about Shouto. 

Tomorrow, he had said before he left. You’d see him again tomorrow. 

Oddly enough, you were looking forward to it more than you’d like to admit. 

— ✩ —

It was the fifth day of the week, the fifth time he had seen you at the cafe, and he was already tempted to see you again. Would it be invasive to get another pastry after work? Would you even be there working at that hour?

Shouto saw you this morning (along with all the other mornings before that) and yet he couldn’t quell the pull he felt towards you with only the short interaction time you had together. But he would take what he could get without being weird. 

He had been told in the past he could be too forward and dysregulate his feelings and scare people off, and that wasn’t something he wanted to risk with you, though he was certainly much better at it now with learning and practice. If he was reading things correctly, you at least seemed to enjoy seeing him during your shift. 

“You got more pastries, sir?” an employee from the medical supplies sector asked him gleefully. “I swear they get better each time!”

Shouto nodded with a smile. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll be sure to relay your compliment.”

With the dozens of pastries he’s been ordering from your cafe (each order seeming to grow every time he visited after realizing just how much his employees enjoyed it), he would place them around the breakrooms and staff kitchens in the establishment. Those areas were always fully stocked with drinks and sandwiches and chocolates in case anyone needed a little boost, but nothing seemed to bring as much comfort as freshly baked pastries did. And a different baked good almost everyday seemed to give people more to get excited about. 

He owed it all to your sales’ pitch and blinding smile that made him want to buy it. And your personality, of course.

His Personal Secretary had started to wonder why she no longer was tasked with his early morning coffee runs, and Shouto had to find a way to answer without saying it was because there was a barista he wanted to keep talking to. 

Not even he was that shameless. 

The first time, his PS had just called in sick and Shouto decided he might as well head to a cafe himself for the first time in a while. He worried he might have been rusty while ordering, but you did such a good job at being welcoming and guiding the transaction that he found himself actually enjoying it. (Enjoying you, maybe. But it was too soon to admit that.) 

And now, after that initial meeting, he decided it was worth half an hour of his day to give his PS some early morning break time and visit the cafe himself. 

It was worth it so much, in fact, that the next morning on a Saturday, despite most of his employees being given the weekend off, he still went to buy some coffee and pastries. 

“Good morning!” an older lady called as he entered the front doors. Shouto had seen her assisting in shifts and baking pastries when you were busy working the cash register. “What can I get started for you today?”

He looked around the store—relatively quiet compared to the rush hour during the weekdays—and to his disappointment, saw no sight of you. 

The current barista laughed, seeming to read his very thoughts. “Looking for someone? Y/N perhaps?”

His gaze shot up, feeling like a kid getting caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to by his guardian. Cautiously, he gave a small nod. 

“‘Fraid they have the weekends off, actually,” the lady—her name tag read Miyazaki—said. “But don’t look so down, they’ll be back on Monday morning to greet you with a smile.”

He nodded again, feeling his face heat up. Was he that transparent or did Miyazaki just know too much? “Thank you, ma’am.”

She chuckled, waving him over. “No need to be so formal. Now, is there anything I can get for you? Or were you just visiting in hopes of asking our dear Y/N out?”

“No— I…” Shouto felt himself averting his gaze. “I’ll order something.”

At his apparent discomfort, her mischievous gaze softened. “Of course, hon. Sorry for teasing too much. I was just excited seeing how adorable you and Y/N were.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, that’s not my business. Anyway. What can I get started for you?”

He asked for a macchiato and a couple dozen of today’s pastries, paid, and tipped. (Though, it was initially met with a blatant rejection. He didn’t take it too hard; he knew some older members of society thought of tips as insulting and he’d never force anyone to take a tip if it made them feel bad. But after offering again, she thankfully accepted it.)

When he left the cafe, although the exchange was pleasant enough, Shouto still found himself disappointed he wasn’t able to see you. 

At least he had something to look forward to next Monday morning, though part of him wished the day would somehow come sooner. 

a/n: hope u enjoyed miyazaki’s words of wisdom u.u FHKDF i’m totally kidding, but if ur asian like me then u kNOW what convos like that are like omg ,, just had my mom and two grandmas tell me that recently :’/ kskskfd but anyway i hope u enjoyed this chapter and liked seeing a glimpse of shouto’s thoughts ;3 tysm for reading!

what to expect in the next part:

more shouto and y/n :>

maybe some ~flirting~ pfft idk idk u.u

some minor...misunderstandings 

“hello, zuko here” vibes

[ellitx]

And now to interrupt the brain rots for a random wholesome hc/scenario from me for once haha

One day I really want to draw papa!Xiao with his little baby on his back ;v; though he's incredibly reluctant to be around his own child due to his fears over his karma affecting the baby, one day his s/o falls ill with a bad cold and she doesn't want to be around the baby in case they get sick as well, so she asks if Xiao can look after them which he hesitantly agrees...secretly he was hoping he could ask Verr to babysit but unfortunately she wasn't there and was out on errands and he doesn't know or trust anyone else so...Xiao is stuck with the baby. Now, It's not he disliked being a father or the baby for he loved his child very much, but his anxieties over his parenting abilities and his karma often got in the way, and he was kinda low-key intimidated by his own kid xD

But anyways before I get off topic, I can see him recieving a baby sling/carrier from one of the residents when they notice him awkwardly holding them xD and since it's kind of chilly out the baby is dressed in many layers of clothes and a blanket topped with a fuzzy cap on their head. They end up looking a lil caterpillar ;v; and they babble and coo at their surroundings, loving the scenery from high up at the Inn.

I like the idea of Xiao wanting to show the baby the scenes around the place he calls home, (also because he has no idea what else to do??? How do you take care of a baby??? Playing? What's that???) and at one point during the walk Xiao feels wiggling coming from behind him and he notices the baby trying to touch a crystal fly that drifted by them, a toothless grin on their chubby face as they try to reach out for it with their little arm, and Xiao feels his heart warming at the sight, and catches one for them.

- teyvat-wanderer

Soft papa xiao 🥺🥺

Also!! What if madame ping happens to visit them in wangshu inn and gives their child a gift? Maybe a handmade garments for them or accessories or another baby carrier for xiao to bring lmaooo

Now what xiao didnt expect to see was zhongli. Xiao immediately bowed down before him and zhongli really has to tell xiao he doesnt need to be so formal around him.

“Ah, my apologies. It seems like I forgot to bring my gifts for you and your child. But I did happen to bring this book with me. Childe said these are good stories to tell to these young ones.”

Xiao is frantically telling to him that it’s fine and he’s already grateful for his blessings to his wife and child.

The baby on his back happens to see grandpa Zhongli and they stretched out their short arms towards him, cooing and babbling.

“Oh? Eager for a story are we?” The man chuckled and looked at the yaksha for a permission if he can carry the child. Xiao nodded his head and carefully and gently he does hold them between his hands and pass them to his master.

“A-ga...” The little one mumbled, clutching on Zhongli’s shirt to touch the book he was holding. The green-haired male turned his head when he heard a soft laughter beside him.

“My, your child seems to be an energetic one. A trait they inherited from their mother, hm?” Madame Ping commented as she took a seat on a nearby chair.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” she rumbled to her clothes and took out a familiar teapot.

“That’s...”

“You guessed it. I’ve made another Serenitea Pot specially made for your family.” Another peal of laughter slipped from her lips.

“You can’t let your child wander around in the wilderness if there’s monsters around, no? No worries, it’s already been furnished— in and out.”

Xiao feels bad to receive so many gifts from these adepti and yet he can’t bring himself to deny them.

“Th-thank you...” he awkwardly muttered under his breath as he bowed at her in gratitude. He felt the tips of his ears warming up and he peered from the corner of his eyes to see his baby slamming the book with their small hands whilst Zhongli softly reads a line from it with his usual calm and gentle voice.

[thehyugagenius]

Hikaru and Koaru Hyuuga

After speaking with @kunoichiblossoms we came upon the realization that it was possible that Neji might father a set of twins. Below is a little ficlette showcasing a set of NejiSaku born twins. I hope you enjoy.

"That blow to your leg split your femur. Running is going to be impossible, Sensei." Hikaru said to Konohamaru, the Byakugan allowing her to peer through her Sensei's flesh to the bones, organs, blood vessels, everything. The woman was a beauty, even at sixteen. Her long pink hair strikingly different on the Hyuuga's head, but she held quite a lot of her mother's beauty along with her father's grace. The small diamond on her forehead a testament to her heritage, the massive chakra and extreme control that she'd inherited from her mother AND her father. She's finished her seal just earlier this year, much to the frustration of her twin sister Koaru. Always a step ahead.  "You have to get out of here, Hikaru. It's too dangerous for you to stay." The stark whites of the Hyuuga girl looked up to his face, then back down to her Sensei's leg. "I will protect you with my life, Sensei. You know I will not leave, so please do not ask again. Your orders will be ignored as well, as they violate my mandate. If I can help, I must. Now, bite." She held up a strap of leather from her side, forcing it to the man's mouth. Confused, Konohamaru opened his mouth and bit down on the leather. Hikaru was swift, her balance incredibly despite their spot on the uneven tree limb some ten or more meters off of the ground. Her left hand braced the inside of the leg while her right hand pushed a harsh palm heel strike to the outside of his thigh, causing the bone to snap back in to place. Her hand signs were rapid and immaculate, both hands reaching to wrap her fingers around the wound and envelop the whole leg in a soft green glow.  Hikaru gasped as her senses ticked, the presence of an enemy, coming from the south, and fast. Beelined on their position. "Boruto and Mitsuki will be here soon. I may have to defend our position until they arrive." Spoken hushed, still concentrating on  healing the split in the bone as efficiently as she could. The clock was ticking, their enemy approaching fast. Hikaru's eyes shot up and her head jerked in the direction their enemy was coming from, the dark clad ninja leaking with metal claws reached in her direction. She'd have to be fast, but she could take a single step and perform the rotation right before his claw could reach her. She went to make the maneuver...  "THAT'S MY SISTER!" The shout split the peace in the forest as a blur of a young woman intercepted the  Ninja mid leap. Her right hand cocked back swung forward in an absolute haymaker, an immense amount of Chakra focused there in that arm, through her muscles and bones, producing absolutely monstrous strength just like her mother. The excess in her arm exploded outward through the Tensei at the end of her fist, producing an effect very akin to her father's Mountain Cracker Jutsu. The Shinobi hadn't the time to dodge, the blow connecting with his cheek and sending him absolutely rocketing off, slamming through and shattering one of the nearby trees. Koaru was far more tomboyish in style, sporting a short cut to her bright pink hair, and the bright green eyes of her mother. Wrapped in a red vest with a white under shirt, that left her midriff open to the air, and a pair of compression shorts that left maneuvering with her Taijutsu a breeze, Koaru was a striking sight. Most striking, though, were the fingerless gloves she wore, a built in set of knuckle reading "Heal" across her right knuckles, and "Hurt" on the left. Her eyes seemed to shift, a white spot appearing in the middle of her pupil then growing outward to consume her entire eye as she activated her own Byakugan, and began to bounce from one foot to the left, her hands raised  in fighting position. Strong Style was strong with this one. "C'MON! Don't keep a girl waiting!" The enemy was closing in, though their allies weren't far behind. Lee-Sensei would mop up what she didn’t get to.

[threadofdestiny]

Magnolia (Bakugou x f!reader)

Feudal Japan AU

Shogun!Bakugou x Midoriya’s sister!reader

Summery: Her mother, lady Midoriya Inko, had once told her that the gods had predestined a path for every single person. All she had to do was follow the path and trust that it would lead her to happiness. But how could (Y/N) find happiness in a political formed marriage with her brother’s rival, a man known for being brutal and cold hearted?

Warnings: sexual content in later chapters / period-typical-sexism / strong language / violence / Drama / Angst / Fluff / Slow Burn/ political marriage / Reader is Izuku's sister / period-typical-discriptions like vague mentions of longer hair to form typical hairstyles or specific wardrobe / Bakugou is not good at feelings / Bakugou is a mean, explosive boi / third-person perspektive

Wattpad

AO3

If someone wants to be tagged, just let me know ;)

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

The life of a lady

No matter what culture you were born into, the structures of the society of the noble born, were always one and the same in their most fundamental form. A life as a noble was blessed with wealth and influence, but intrigues and scandals enjoyed dominance over those who had enough money and power to be part of the emperor's curt.

Only the most important people were powerful enough to receive the honor to get a tailored role in such a glorious play, while the rest served only as cheap, unappreciated extras. However, it did not matter at all whether the nobility was absorbed in their role's descriptions or if they would have preferred to step off that pretential stage. Every single one of them was obliged to play their part. If they did not, they had to expect that it would not only be their own end, but often for their entire family and subordinates as well. In that case, all that could save them was the favor of the crown itself, which usually was as fickle and impressionable as the rough sea.

In a world like this, you didn't decide for yourself who you were...

No, not really...

It was the tongues of the others that had the power to deform the image of your identity. They decided who you were and what was best for you. They defined what was right and what was wrong and were able to destroy you at the slightest misstep. So, bearing a title was a privilege and a burden all at once.

As a noble it was not only important who you were and how well you fulfilled your own part in society, no, it was important who you knew and what contacts you had cultivated. Your connections were what made you powerful. So it was common that unions were closed around various families to secure better conditions for their offspring's or to form better alliances to gain power over the emperor's curt. In a society like this, everyone looked for their own benefits. Compassion was a rare treasure, which could only be found in the fewest individuals. Sons were raised to rule, while daughters were only used as bargaining chips. They must humbly serve their families by marrying powerful men, to obtain alliances. They had to bind themselves to those who were raised to rule over them, without ever getting a chance to decide for themselves.

So... how can anyone romanticize such a morbid spectacle? Why are there such big differences between the rights of various people? Why are the deeds of the powerful always glossed over, while the weaker were oppressed?

Noble warriors, who fought for glory and honor...

Fine diplomats, whose silver tongues could melt every single heart...

Mighty kings, who hold their hand protectively over their people...

Well-guarded ladies, whose beauty and elegance could made a whole hall shine...

Weren't these colorful descriptions only empty paraphrases, in order to be able to hide the cruel faces of reality?

But...

Who told of the blood of the innocent that dripped from the warrior's blade?

Who mentioned the lies the diplomat had spun to achieve his goals?

Who wrote about the wars the king instigated to expand his empire?

Who acknowledged that a lady's supposed beauty and family status was the only means to even have the prospect of a rosy future? And even this was not an indicator that her destiny would not be her downfall, because the rules were set by those who wielded the power and if she was unlucky, they were the ones who took advantage of it without thinking of her well-being.

Yes, even the carefully planned and detailed balls and parties, looked at first glance like dreamlike picture perfect background's. They blinded onlookers to what was behind the scenes, but those who lived in this world for long enough, knew that even these were literally only bloody battlefields disguised in beautiful shining robes. It's was a spectacle full of lies.

True love?

A spark of equality?

Boundless trust?

What most rare wonders they were in her hypocritical society and yet (Y/N), young and unreserved, hoped to find them in spite of everything. What a blessed life she had led until now. She was lucky to be born into a wonderful family. Despite her status, its members were warm-hearted and free-spirited. But she knew that this was not the norm and was wise enough not to take her privileges for granted.

With a wildly beating heart, she stood next to her mother and waited for her call to finally be presented before the Emperor and his guests as a marriageable debutante. Normally, the Empress would review the new young ladies year after year, but she had passed away in her own childbed some time ago, and so the Emperor, bless his suprisingly kind soul, took over this task, with a nostalgic smile on his fragile face.

In the midst of the whole crowd of young ladies and their mothers, (Y/N) stood and called herself to patience while she tried to fade out her competition as best she could. Some of her fellow competitors she knew personally, but only a few she had a closer, more sympathetic relationship with. Somewhere at the other end of the waiting area she had spotted Miss Uraraka with her mother. But unfortunately they had only been able to give each other a fleeting smile before she was already called. Ochako was one of her few childhood friends, but she too was unfortunately on the hunt for a good match and was now in some ways as much her competitor as all the rest of the unmarried girls. So all (Y/N) could do was to hope that this season wouldn't drive a wedge between them and at least one of them would get hitched safely.

However, no matter how much she would like to think about her friendships at this moment, the young girl had to use what little time she had left to mentally prepare herself for her own appearance. Breathing deeply through her chest, the budding debutante stretched her back while pulling her shoulders taut. The stiff, floral-embroidered obi was cinched very tightly around her waist, making breathing a little more difficult, but not as impossible as it seemed with some of the other ladies. Testing, (Y/N) tried to put on a charming smile as she interlaced her fingers in front of her body in a demure pose before turning her frame with trembling lips to her mother, who was already looking at her with affection. "I hope I can bring honor to our family today!" the young girl spoke softly as she gazed hopefully into the green eyes of her counterpart. Lady Midoriya regarded her daughter with a moved expression, raising her well-groomed hands to fix the blooming magnolia blossoms she had personally placed in the elaborate hairstyle that morning for one last time. Satisfied with her work, she let her fingers glide gently down over (Y/N)'s ears, only to finally cup the young girl's cheeks in a delicate manner. "You already do, my child! And I know you will continue to do so!" the older lady replied confidently, while placing her slightly wrinkled, yet still delicate fingers under (Y/N)'s chin to lift it decisively. "You are beautiful, intelligent and kind-hearted! You have inherited your father's strong will! He would be as proud as I am to see you like this. Just like your brother, you put all your passion into your tasks and diligently learn what is expected of you. You, my child, will be able to go your way and overcome any stumbling block. I am incredibly sure of that!" Lady Midoriya added emotionaly before she cleared her throat softly, hoping to catch herself again. Tears glistened in her eyes like raindrops on an evergreen branch. The words of her mother gave (Y/N) the necessary strength to suppress the slight trembling of her lips. Slowly but surely, the nervous lump that had spread in her throat dissolved and disappeared along with her fear.

Yes, her mother was right! (Y/N) had inherited the will of her father and had prepared herself in the best possible way for exactly this moment. She would face the emperor fearlessly and make her family proud. On this day and on each still coming!

"Lady Midoriya. It is now your and your daughter's turn!" the stiff voice of the herald's assistant rang out, snapping them out of their brief emotional moment. Nodding, (Y/N)'s mother started to move and placed herself with perfectly executed etiquette in front of the closed red and golden double doors that would lead them into the throne room. The remaining debutantes and their mothers, who were waiting for their momentto come, gave them appraising looks, but (Y/N) tried to ignore them as much as possible. Each of them knew how privileged the youngest Midoriya was, her own brother being one of the three former students of the current emperor. But she would shine today because of her own abilities. Today she would not stand in the shadow of her talented, kind-hearted brother. Taking a deep breath, the young girl followed her mother and positioned herself half a step in front of her while she waited with galloping heartbeat for the herald's introduction.

This was it...

This was the moment on which everything depended. All eyes would be on her to determine her own worth. As soon as those doors opened, she would take the first step to be able to grab a good match for herself. It would be one of the most important steps that would determine the rest of her life and she could not help but dare once again to let hope for a good future arise in her. Conscious of her duty, (Y/N) lowered herself onto the pillow and took in a bowing posture. With her head bowed and fingertips touching, which hovered in a rehearsed posture stretched out in front of her just a few millimeters above the ground, she took one last look at her beloved mother. Making the final decision to take Lady Midoriya as her role model, (Y/N) set herself for the very last time the goal not only to achieve an excellent match and honor for her family, but also to fight for the oh-so-rare love that only a few were truly allowed to experience. Even if her future could not be determined by herself, she did not want to leave her entire destiny solely in the hands of the gods, for only those who proved virtuous and courageous would be truly heard by those same deity's. She had prayed and pleaded that she would be able to feel for her future groom as her mother once did for her beloved husband, but to achieve this she would have to fight in her own way.

"Your Majesty, honored guests, we now present Miss Midoriya (Y/N), younger sister of the head of the family and distinguished samurai of Shizuoka Province, Lord Midoriya Izuku, one of the three former disciples of the Symbol of Peace. His Imperial Highness, Toshinori-sama. The young lady is accompanied by her mother, Lady Midoriya Inko," the clear voice of the herald echoed through the hall, while the richly decorated double doors were pushed open as if in slow motion. As she had been taught, the introduced debutante slowly counted to three before elegantly rising from her bowing position, only to just as slowly lift her eyelids to cast an innocent glance around the hall. In a culture like hers, aesthetics and elegance were invaluable. They were taught to one from childhood. Like a graceful mask, she wore the delicate, demure garb of etiquette expected of a young girl of her station.

'Do not speak unless you are addressed personally.'

'It is better to be seen than heard.'

'A young girl's weapon is not her voice, but her manners and countenance.'

'Be a work of art that all the world wants to admire.'

Even though (Y/N) wanted to be independent in her deepest heart. Even if she would have loved to use her own voice not only to be seen but also to be heard, she knew that for that she needed a man who was kind enough to give her that very chance. Her gently, encouraging brother would not always be her guardian. In a society like hers, a woman alone was worth nothing. Her status was measured by that of her husband and only that man would be able to shape her further life. He alone would have the right to decide whether to lock her in a golden cage and let her wither away or to give her the wings she would need to continue to develop freely. So she had no choice but to be exactly what was expected of her if she wanted to attract as much attention as possible. The family name she carried could not be her only trump card. She had to portray the perfect, well-mannered bride. A girl that was worth fighting over. Beautiful and quiet. Attentive and discreet. Talented and elegant. For this reason, she had poured her heart and soul and perfectionism into this very charlatanry. She wanted freedom! She wanted to be able to hope! Hope that the seed her family had planted in her would be able to blossom! Hope to be able to attract the attention of a man who would be her blessing and not her downfall.

Without losing her balance, the young girl stood up, while with purposeful flowing gestures, she placed her hands hovering over each other under her chest. When at last the seat cushion was discreetly moved aside, the debutante stepped into the packed hall with shining, soft eyes, closely followed by her venerable mother. A slight implied smile, meant to exude modesty and delicacy, played around her lips as she resisted the need to look around the room.

Look at me. I am everything you have ever dreamed of.

Her gaze rested on the hem of the emperor's multi-layered robe without once losing her focus as she strode past his wealthy guests, who were spread out on either side of the hall and focused their full attention on (Y/N). The young girl knew that somewhere in that crowd was her big brother, Midoriya Izuku, watching her intently just like all the others. By the gods, she hoped that he felt pure pride for his sister, just like their mother. He was probably even more nervous than she was at that moment. Perhaps he was even quietly whispering push prayers into his non-existent beard to give his sister all the blessings in the world. No matter. This thought alone warmed the debutante's heart as she took one step after another toward the emperor until she finally came to a stop in front of him. Without lifting her eyes, (Y/N) curtsied as deeply as her legs would allow and then waited with bated breath for the crown's reaction.

Silence reigned in the hall, so pervasive that one could have heard a pin drop on the floor. Like a mantra, the words, Look at me, I bring honor to my family, echoed in the mind of the youngest Midoriya. The sudden clap of the emperor, which echoed through the room like lashes of a whip, almost made (Y/N) wince, but she had managed to pull herself together. Calmly, the young girl waited while she made sure to take deep breaths through her chest so as not to fall prey to dizziness. Out of the corner of her eye, she could observe the emperor nodding warmly in the direction of his guests. "As one would expect, my student's little sister is shining brightly!", Toshinori's voice loudly and warmly pierced the silence of the room.

"This my honored guests, I call a truly sparkling diamond."

[ev-pierce-writes]

The Heir

The Heir Chapter 1

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8.3K

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, masturbation

Notes: I recognize this isn't actually what season 3 will be like but I just need season 3 to come and its not coming fast enough so I'm taking it into my own hands to write whatever I want. I just want the little green alien baby and his space cowboy dad to have a cute reunion is that too much to ask? Self-insert, with reader as "you" but I avoid Y/N stuff. Narrator's perspective refers to Mando as Djarin, Din's perspective is written as Din. Some back and forth with that. I took some liberty with the characterization as well. The rest is my own!

---

The throne room was silent save for your voice echoing from the high ceiling.

"Tell Mon Tarrow that his trade agreement still stands, as long as he keeps up his end of the bargain," you said to the hologram flickering before you. "We get our shipments, he gets his. That is all."

With a swipe of your hand, the hologram disappeared and you leaned back into your seat. This job was difficult, organizing and controlling the most heavily trafficked trade routes in the galaxy. It was not one you had chosen for yourself. But for generations, your family had been in control of the planet Nhora and its lunar outpost, maintaining its status as a neutral party throughout several civil wars, uprisings, revolutions, and revolts. You had inherited that neutrality. Despite attempts from both the Republic and the Empire, your rule had withstood their attacks, keeping peace with your people and ensuring the wealth of successful trade routes.

Turning to your advisor at your elbow, you began to discuss the redistribution of the year's crops when the large doors across the hall opened. It was uncommon for someone to interrupt your daily briefings, though not disallowed. You had an open-door policy when it came to your people; anything that needed your attention should be brought directly to you. It fostered communication and understanding. But the individual who interrupted you was not one of your subjects and was, to put it simply, completely unexpected.

Your advisor immediately silenced, as dumbstruck as you, and the only sounds came from the creature huffing and puffing his way toward you, mumbling some garbled non-language.

Creature was the best way to put it. He was small and green and wore a sack for clothes. Though you couldn't see his legs, they must have been tiny, for he wobbled very slowly towards you. And his ears, good grief those ears, were so large his head teetered back and forth as he walked. The throne room was already large, but it was made even larger by the tiny figure before you, a child, you realized, as he stumbled closer. You eyed the child suspiciously before giving your advisor a look that said, who is this? She only shrugged.

Perhaps this was one of Skywalker's new playthings, you thought. That strange Jedi was always passing through with some oddity or another to trade for supplies. He knew what you liked, gems and stones from other lands, flowers with unique scents, fabrics spun from the thread of ice spiders (very dangerous to come by). In exchange, he had free access to your palace as he pleased before heading off again to who knows where. But this was new. Skywalker never brought you living things that moved of their own accord.

You stood, gathering the long skirts of your robe and stepping off the dais upon which your throne sat. You weren't particularly fond of children, but the sudden appearance of one purposefully crossing the long marble hall and heading straight for you was intriguing. You met the child halfway, stooping over to get a closer look at him, and noticed a fine layer of hair on his wrinkled head.

As you bent over, the child looked up at you and cooed, a little smile on his face. He was admittedly a bit cute, though incredibly ugly.

"Hello, little thing," you said, addressing the child directly. "Who are you?"

He didn't answer, of course, just gurgled strangely. A tiny three-fingered hand reached toward you as if asking to be picked up. You ignored him and stood up straight instead, turning to a guard and sending him out to look for the enigmatic Jedi who was sure to be close behind.

Apparently, the child didn't like being ignored. You felt a sudden tugging at your collar as if someone had taken hold of your necklace and was trying to yank it from your neck. Looking down, you could see the child was still at your feet, hand in the air, but now his eyes were half-closed. You realized with a mix of horror and curiosity that the little one was pulling at your necklace, though not with his fingers but rather with his mind. Perhaps you could have tried to stop him, withheld the piece of jewelry from him, but you were too dumbfounded to try. Why he wanted the chain around your neck you were unsure, but the child would have it one way or another.

The necklace broke with a snap and flew toward him, which he caught in one green paw. The astonishment hung in the room; most had never seen the force in action like this. But you knew.

The force was with this one. Now, you were certain he had to be with the Jedi.

"Luke Skywalker," you said with accusation in your voice as he finally entered the throne room, following behind your guard. "I am not taking care of this child for you if that's what you're expecting. And I want my necklace back."

Skywalker smiled as he entered and kneeled to address you. It wasn't necessary to bow before you, but the Jedi had always been a bit of a stickler for tradition. You took it as a sign of friendship.

"Don't worry Your Majesty, Grogu and I will be on our way shortly. He just needs a... special diet that I cannot provide for him."

"Grogu?" The little child looked up at you when you said his name. His mouth was wrapped around the metal ball that had hung from your neck moments before. It had been a gift from your mother, a symbol of the planet you ruled over, to be passed on if you had a child of your own. Now it was covered in baby slobber. And yet, your heart softened at the sight of the green child. Relenting to his pleading eyes, you reached down and picked Grogu up, holding him at arm's length as he played with the metal ball.

"Where did you find him?" you asked Skywalker as you led him from the throne room toward the banquet hall, your advisor trailing behind you, just as curious about the creature as you.

"I did not find him," Skywalker replied. "A Mandalorian did."

A Mandalorian? Your heart rate picked up, curiosity piqued at the thought. You had only heard stories about their kind since their fall from the Council of Neutral Systems. And of course what your grandmother had told you of them. They were a conflicted group but you knew one thing for sure, they were not friends of the Jedi.

"I presume you are to train him now."

"To the best of my ability. He is the same species as my master, surprisingly strong despite his size."

In the banquet hall, you sent for a meal, setting Grogu down on the table and sitting before him. He was fascinating, despite his babyish mannerisms and the ball covered in his spit. But what you really wanted to know more about was this Mandalorian. The rumors had not escaped you, spreading swiftly through the trade routes, reports of the Darksaber's resurfacing, of those who tried to claim it. The planet Mandalore itself was relatively uninhabited, having been ravaged by years of war and conflict. Your trade routes were one of the only ones that extended that far to the outer rim as most didn't find it worth the trouble.

But if the Darksaber was truly back, and someone had claimed it, the Mand'alor may make a recovery. That could mean many things for your people, possibly a surge in trade or a new rival that was willing and able to fight for space. Mandalorians were known to be the greatest killers in the galaxy, after all. But you were getting ahead of yourself.

"The one who found Grogu, are they the one who claimed the saber?"

Concern flickered across Skywalker's face. "Yes, I believe his name is Din Djarin."

The baby's ears perked up at the name, glancing back and forth between the two of you. His giant eyes blinked slowly as he eyed your face.

"Is the Mandolorian worthy?" You were of course talking about the inheritance of the Mand'alor throne.

"He delivered the child. And refused the saber, at first. There is hope for those who are given the chance of ultimate power and deny it."

Refused it? So ruling a creed and a planet had not been his choice. Much like you. Perhaps there was a chance for the Mand'alor after all. You watched as Skywalker traded your necklace for an entire laas fish, which Grogu swallowed whole, fins and all. It was a disturbing sight.

---

Din Djarin could be a man of stealth when necessary. After saying goodbye to his son, he had accepted a ride through hyperspace from Boba Fett and Fennec Shand. But they had only been willing to go so far as Wobani, and he would have to make his way alone.

Though Bo-Katan had let Din leave with the Darksaber in tow, he could tell it had been with reluctance, and Din was sure this wasn't the last he'd see of her. Cara Dune had offered to follow him, but Din declined. This was a trip he had to make on his own.

Wobani was not the most welcoming of planets. The abandoned labor camps that had once been full during the reign of the Empire stood crumbling to dust. Some people had taken root here, making do with what was available.

But this was not where he needed to be. Din needed to keep moving, keep his eyes on the future, keep his mind off of the sad look on the little one's face as he'd been whisked away by a Jedi. Din felt empty without Grogu on his hip, hidden in his satchel or tucked away in his crib. Sure, Din missed having his ship, but he missed the child so much more.

The metal ball at his belt weighed heavy. He should have let him keep it.

But there was no turning back now. Din would allow himself one night of rest before moving on. There were no boarding houses on Wobani, though he'd asked around. And it wasn't like anyone wanted to house a Mandalorian. So Din settled for an empty, abandoned building, one that likely had held prisoners at one time or another. Now, there was nothing but a dirt floor and a wall to lean against. But it was better than nothing.

As the sun set, Din shut his eyes, ready for the next day to begin.

He was awoken not by the sun, but a grunting noise to his left. Din opened his eyes and adjusted his helmet to night vision, locating a massive heat signature through his visor. A large animal, crawling on all fours, appeared across the room. It hadn't yet noticed Din, more preoccupied with sniffing the ground with a large, whiskered nose. But even from this vantage point, Din could tell the creature had many giant sharp teeth, perfect for tearing at his flesh.

Maybe if he stayed absolutely still... Nope. That large nose turned in his direction and had him spotted in an instant. The options lay before him, run or fight, and neither seemed good. Shooting a blaster in this confined space was almost guaranteed to cause a ricochet and at the moment, the beast was blocking the exit.

But not the only exit. The beast began to approach, its long slithering tail making disgusting sounds as it dragged across the floor, sinewy muscles rippling beneath hairless skin. It moved slowly, but that didn't mean much. It probably thought it had found its next meal, a man in a suit of beskar. Din stood slowly, trying not to urge the beast to move any faster.

Last night, when choosing a spot to sleep, Din had noticed the small window above him. When you were constantly on the hunt or being hunted, having multiple escape routes was a necessity. And the window had seemed like a good enough option. Now Din hoped his judgment had been right. The beast was getting closer, giving him only moments to make a decision.

To reach the window, Din would have to turn his back on the beast, which he didn't particularly want to do. He would need a distraction.

The beast paused in its approach and then lunged, as Din aimed his vambrace, spraying it with fire. It reeled back, howling in pain, and he knew that was his chance. He jumped, fingers catching on the ledge and hauling himself through the narrow space. Din barely fit, especially with all his bulking armor and the few possessions he managed to carry. The beast he'd left behind was enraged, clawing angrily at the walls and snapping at his heels.

At last, he was able to swing himself from the window to the roof of the building, finding refuge up high. He laid back with exhaustion, listening to the sounds of the beast as it finally gave up on its query and left. Din wanted nothing more than to sleep, to forget the pain in his heart and calm his rapid breathing. Not much scared the serious Mandalorian, and despite the danger he had just narrowly escaped, his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Above him, the stars shone dimly through the dusty clouds of Wobani's atmosphere. Somewhere out there was the kid. Din hoped he was happy.

---

Luke Skywalker and the child did not stay long. You were surprised to find that you actually missed the little bugger as you watched them fly away, a large supply of laas fish in tow. Though you were sure you'd see them again; Grogu's appetite was insatiable.

But there were more pressing matters at hand. If the Mand'alor were to resurface and become strong again, you had to be prepared. You wanted to have the upper hand and hoped that the trade relations that were already established with the desolate Mandalore planet would help in gaining their trust.

Though your advisors had recommended you give up on the planet, even demanded it, you had been unwilling to do so. The few who did live there desperately needed Nhora's help and supplies. They had little to offer in return and tended to be more of a burden than an equal partner, but it felt wrong to abandon that outpost. Now you were glad that you'd stuck to your convictions.

It was time to call a meeting of council members. Little was left of the Council of Neutral Systems since the fall of the Empire, but those who remained were essential to the maintenance of free trade. And if the Mand'lor were to return, the council needed to be prepared.

"We don't even know if this Mandalorian wants his planet back," General Tarrow was saying, his hologram flickering slightly across the table from you.

"It's better to be prepared," your advisor, Zena, replied. "Her Majesty has maintained trade relations with the planet despite their small numbers. We can use this to our advantage and get ahead of any potential military action they are willing to take."

"The fact that they could take military action is exactly why we shouldn't pursue relations with the Mand'alor," Tarrow countered.

Zena sighed, exasperated by the back and forth conversation that had been going on for the last twenty minutes. You could tell she was getting frustrated. "They deserve our respect, don't they? Innocent before proven guilty?"

"They've already proven themselves guilty, or didn't you study Nhora's history?"

The General made a good point, but it was always better to approach with peace than antagonism, you had learned. "I have reason to believe the one who claimed the Darksaber is of a different disposition, worthy, even," you said in Zena's defense.

"From who?" asked another council member.

"Luke Skywalker."

"The Jedi? I don't trust him."

"Well I do," you said, putting your foot down. "There's not much to be done at this time anyway. The reports are only rumors, after all. But we need to be open and prepared for the Mand'alor to return."

The meeting adjourned. Though no conclusions had been reached, you felt a shift coming.

---

When Din awoke next, it was the sun was up. He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep again. Move. That was all there was to do.

Scrambling down from the roof that had become his bed, Din headed back toward the port he had come in from, hoping to find someone stupid enough who would accept a ridiculously small amount of credits in exchange for passage to the nearby planet Mandalore. He knew the task was impossible before he even asked the first merchant he found.

Time to change tactics.

Across the shipyard was a small transport ship. Din watched from behind some crates as a couple of droids loaded and unloaded cargo. It appeared the ship was manned entirely by droids and was getting ready to take off again soon. It would be a risk, boarding the ship and hijacking it. But smaller craft like this tended not to be very equipped for battle, and Din hoped he could use that to his advantage.

Keeping low to the ground, Din moved swiftly toward the transporter, staying out of sight of the droids. He hid next to the loading ramp, quickly climbing inside as it began to rise, signaling its imminent departure.

The cargo hold was tiny. The hulking Mandalorian couldn't stand up straight without hitting his head on the ceiling. Tight spaces didn't bother him, but he hoped that the rest of the transporter wasn't this small. Otherwise, this was going to be a long trip.

With the hum of the thrusters, the transporter lifted into the air, leaving the airspace of Wobani's shipyard. Din would wait until just before the ship entered hyperdrive to make his move.

The angle of ascent leveled and the flight smoothed, indicating they had made it out of the atmosphere and were heading swiftly toward their destination. The door leading to the cockpit from the cargo hold was thankfully not locked. With a shove, Din had the door open and the first droid in a headlock before it knew what was happening. One blaster shot to the central processing unit and the droid dropped, though not before making enough noise to signal to its copilot of Din's intrusion. And of course, it had a blaster.

The shot rang out, ricocheting around the tiny space, pinging off the walls and Din's beskar armor. Silently he thanked his laser-proofness, even as the shot knocked him off his feet and hurled him against the door of the cargo hold. His head slammed into the metal wall, blurring his vision. He would definitely have a headache after that one.

Stupid droids.

With a groan, Din heaved himself to his feet. Realizing that a blaster wasn't going to work, the droid stood, preparing itself for hand-to-hand combat. If Din hadn't been fighting for his life he may have found the situation funny, fighting in such cramped quarters. But the clouds hadn't quite cleared from his head and he barely noticed the tell-tale sign of the droid winding up for a punch. The droid swung out and struck Din squarely in the temple, sending reverbs through the beskar.

Dank farrik. This was ridiculous. He needed to focus, not be so distracted, but by what exactly? Din steadied himself and aimed his vambrace, blasting the droid with a shot that vaporized its CPU instantly.

Silence.

Shoving the now unmoving droids as best he could into the cargo hold, Din took control of the ship, rerouting the navigation system. Punching in the coordinates of the planet Mandalore, he shifted quickly into hyperdrive. The trip would take less than a day. But it was several hours of peace and for that Din was thankful, even if it meant no distractions from the big brown eyes that blinked at him every time he closed his own. They were so sad and--

Stop. Sleep. Move on. But they called out, even in his dreams.

Mandalore was even more deserted than Wobani. As the transporter eased out of hyperdrive, Din spotted several round constructions, which turned out to be domes as he got closer. Where was he going to land? There didn't appear to be a shipyard or trading post to accept incoming starships. No one connected to the commlink, requesting his flight information.

The planet was silent and gray.

Of course, it couldn't be that easy. As he prepared for descent, the rear detectors picked up on an approaching x-wing. Damn. Apparently taking out a pair of drones and hijacking their ship wasn't a free pass. Someone wanted their cargo back. And this ship was not equipped for that fight.

All Din could do was dodge as the x-wing rained fire. So much for a smooth landing. With a lurch, the left thruster was rendered useless and the transporter began to fall, rather than sail, toward the gray planet. Hopefully, Din could guide the transporter into a graceful crash and not kill himself on the way down. Seemingly recognizing that the ship was a lost cause and on its way to a crash landing, the x-wing swooped away, at least giving Din one less thing to worry about.

The ship lurched through the atmosphere, speeding too fast toward the ground and threatening to burn up as it went. The temperature inside the cockpit began to rise and Din felt lightheaded, likely due to the sudden force of gravity. He jerked up on the joystick, praying for a miracle.

With a defining blast, the transporter made contact with the ground. Din managed to remain conscious as the ship hit the sand, but only long enough to bring it to a slamming and skidding stop. And then everything went black.

It was hot. Too hot. And his mouth was impossibly dry. Din was barely aware of a pair of arms hooked under his armpits, dragging him away from the wreckage of the transporter, saving his life.

---

A year passed. Grogu and Skywalker visited again several times, though shorter than before. Little changed in the child's size, but he was stronger than before. You didn't even wait for him to steal your necklace, just handed him the small metal ball like a pushover as Skywalker restocked his ship.

And though you asked, pushed even, for details on the Mandalorian, Skywalker had little to say. The warrior seemed to have disappeared into hyperspace.

This lack of news was the exact reason why you were so shocked to find, not many days later, a suit of beskar armor standing in your throne room.

Zena had been explaining the benefits and disadvantages of increasing farming output as you walked to the throne room, but the pair of you stopped short at the door. A tall, gleaming figure stood in the hall, looking out a window, seemingly unaware of your presence. At the sight of him, the guards who had been flanking you drew their weapons, training their blasters to his back and stepping in front of you. It took you a moment to recognize the distinct shape of the helmet and the signet on his shoulder plate but this was unmistakably a Mandalorian, the Mandalorian, who had unwittingly laid claim to the Mand'alor throne. You held up your hand, willing your guards to stand down and let you pass.

"I'll admit, I am surprised to be in your presence, Mandalorian," you said. "Though not surprised that you made it in unseen. You'll have to teach me that one."

The man, Din Djarin you remembered his name to be, turned to face you, his helmet disguising whatever thoughts may have been written on his face. Of course, Din had known you were there, knew when you would arrive, knew exactly how many blasters were trained on him. But when he turned, the serious, threatening woman he expected to find was not there.

When Din had landed on Mandalore, it had been only your ships that he'd seen come and go. There was no official port or trading post, the locals explained, but Nhora's supplies came anyway, finding a way in the inhospitable desert environment that the remaining Mandalorians called home.

Reports of Nhora were mixed. Some were grateful for its help. Other's looked upon it with disdain, taking any acceptance of assistance as a sign of weakness. And rumors about the Nhora queen varied widely. Some claimed she didn't exist, was only a fabricated figurehead to maintain peace. Others described her as fierce and domineering, ruling with an iron fist and cultivating the illusion of order through force.

At first glance, Din knew you were none of these things. You were regal, of course, very obviously the one in charge. But your stance was warm and inviting, the soft features of your face drawn up into a smile. If anything, you felt more like an equal, rather than a royal who demanded authoritative respect. It was difficult for Din to smile, especially since the loss of everything he'd called family. But your smile was contagious. If not for his helmet, Din might have given his whole intimidating facade away. He was drawn to you, to your lack of fear, but he wouldn't let it show.

Djarin, though beneath the helmet he smiled against his will, appeared as the complete opposite to you. His demeanor was quiet and daunting, but he stood stiffly before you, as if unsure how you would receive him. He didn't bow or kneel or even address you by your title. And yet, though he could probably kill you and all the guards that surrounded you in the time it took to say his name, you felt no concern in his presence.

The memory of your grandmother's stories lurched into the forefront of your brain, dashing warriors, powerful and dangerous, yet righteous and honorable at heart. It made your heart beat faster. He made your heart beat faster.

"I heard you were looking for me," was all he said, modulated voice surprisingly calm despite the rush of emotions that flooded him. A man of few words, he got straight to the point. But inside he was wondering why you eyed him like that, with curiosity and diffidence, not afraid of him at all.

You nodded silently and took your place on your throne, unsure of what you would say next. How that news had reached him escaped you, as you hadn't been actively searching him out. Yes, you'd been wondering what had happened to him, what he planned to do. But you hadn't expected to meet him, not so soon. "Din Djarin, rightful heir to the Mand'alor throne. I wasn't anticipating this meeting for quite some time."

Though you couldn't see his eyes, the Mandalorian seemed to squint at you suspiciously through his visor. The sound of his name rolled easily from your tongue as if practiced over and over. "How do you know my name?"

"I know of the child you rescued. The one with the force." The Mandolorian took a step forward as if wanting to hear more. You leaned your elbow on the arm of your throne, one finger twisting nervously at the scarf of your headdress, anticipating his response.

"You've seen him?"

"Yes, a few times now. Skywalker prefers Nhora for restocking supplies. And Grogu is particularly fond of stealing things with his mind and swallowing his meals whole." The comment was meant to be a joke. Djarin did not laugh. He was watching your delicate fingers instead. "He is strong. Capable. A Jedi in the making. And you seem very attached. If I didn't know better I would think you were here for news of the little one."

"I didn't come searching for Grogu."

"I know. The Mandolorian don't simply come when called. They come when they need something. I heard what you did to Moff Gideon. How you refused the saber. I would be very surprised if there weren't some dangerous people after you right now."

Din sighed, knowing you had deciphered his intent without needing it explained to you. You were kind, but you were also sharp and perceptive, not wanting to waste time with small talk. Din liked that.

"I've seen your ships land on Mandalore. Nhora is the only one who still trades with the people there. I figured--" You realized he was asking for help but didn't know how to. Zena shot you a knowing look, recognizing that you had been right when you'd called that council meeting over a year ago. "I figured you could be an ally."

An ally. Perfect. This was exactly what you predicted. You wanted to rub your success in those snobby Neutral System faces, but you held your composure. This was your chance to make a connection, establish a rapport that would benefit you both, and protect your planet at the same time. If he needed an ally, you would offer it.

"Tell me what you need."

Djarin stood momentarily in silence, contemplating the consequences of what he was about to ask for. Was it this easy? Were you this willing to help every poor soul that came along? "I need-- I need a ship. And supplies."

"That's it?" It was suspiciously little if you had any inkling of the position Djarin was in. If he had seemingly disappeared for the past year, what struggles had he endured to make it here, to your planet?

"That's all I can afford. I don't have many credits left."

You laughed. You couldn't help it. "Credits? That's what you're worried about? I don't want your credits, Djarin."

Didn't want your credits? No one of sound mind gave anything away for free. You may have been generous, but there was no way you were that stupid. There had to be something else, he knew. "What's the catch?"

"The catch is that you rebuild a creed that was once my people's allies. And you defend us, the way you used to, from the inevitable. The Empire is still out there. It's naive to think they won't set their sights on us. But you-- you can stop them. So tell me what you need, everything you need, and I will help you. Do we have a deal?"

Zena, who had remained silent during the interaction, now leaned down and spoke into your ear. "Are you sure this is smart, Your Majesty? If the Council hears of your actions, they may not be very pleased."

"Zena, the Council has no control over what I do with my personal resources. So, deal or no deal?"

Djarin stepped forward, approaching you where you sat on your throne. Though you were seated above him, Djarin was tall enough to still stand at your eye level. He reached out a gloved hand, asking for yours to shake, you thought. His beskar glittered in the setting sun filtering in through the windows and sent you spiraling into thoughts of what he looked like beneath it all. But instead of shaking your hand, he simply held it and sunk on one knee before you, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles and bowing his head. Had Djarin not been wearing a helmet, you were sure he would have kissed them. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he said softly.

The act was ridiculous. Din knew that. You knew that. But it made your heart flutter even more than before.

"Oh for Maker's sake, this is absurd. Stand up, Djarin," you said, suddenly embarrassed, though you had to admit the sight of a Mandalorian kneeling before you would have made your ancestor's faint on the spot. "Let's find you a ship."

---

You weren't exactly sure what Djarin's rule about his helmet was. Would he take it off? Leave it on? But he needed to eat, so you led him to a private room for dinner, in case that's what he wanted. It would be naive to admit you didn't like the thought of being alone with him. You wanted to know how true your grandmother's stories were.

"I hope it's enough," you said, gesturing at the spread of food before him. "Please let me know if you need anything."

Djarin stood silently for a moment before sitting down heavily into his chair. He seemed exhausted, and though you couldn't tell with all that armor, it wouldn't have surprised you if he was injured somewhere under there.

"Thank you. Your kindness is much appreciated."

"It is per our custom. I'll leave you to eat." You turned to go and leave him in peace, but he stopped you with a gloved hand on your wrist. Though a layer of leather separated your skin from his, Djarin's grip sent a jolt up your arm.

"Why are you being so kind?" It was a genuine question, one you didn't know how to respond to. Tell him the truth? Make something up? But the man before you seemed so earnest that it appeared best to be honest. So you sat, directly across from him, and began your story.

"My grandmother was a fair and just queen," you began, folding your hands in your lap. "Sometimes to a fault. She ruled on her convictions and morals, not tradition or law. In those days, the Mand'alor still controlled much of the outer rim and fought endlessly with the Jedi. Nhora remained neutral, accepting any and all who needed assistance, regardless of creed. A young Jedi took refuge on Nhora, and according to custom, was given full protection. This was something my grandmother believed to her core. Something we still practice today."

"So you're nice because your grandma said you should be?" It wasn't meant as a jab, but suspicion laced Djarin's voice.

You sighed and continued the story. "The young Jedi did not arrive alone. He was followed by a Mandalorian, out for vengeance and retribution. He stormed the palace, the first time in history that our defenses were breached. Fortunately, the Jedi was able to aid our guards in the Mandalorian's detainment. But not before my grandmother fell deeply and madly in love with him."

"In love? With a Mandalorian?" It was hard to tell through the modulation of his voice, but Djarin sounded shocked and more than a little suspicious.

"Perhaps it was all the beskar," you said, trying to make another joke. Djarin still did not laugh though he cracked an invisible smile beneath his helmet. "But yes. Of course, it's only a story, but my grandfather was of Mand'alor, so there must be some truth in it."

"You are a descendant?"

You nodded. You'd never met your grandfather, as fathers didn't matter much to the matriarchal line of rule, but now, here you were, sitting before another Mandalorian, and the cycle continued.

What Djarin did next gave you a shock for the second time that day. With a click and then the hiss of hydraulics, he lifted his helmet from his shoulders, placed it on the table, and began to eat. You barely reined in the expression on your face, narrowly avoiding blanching at the revelation of his face.

Suddenly, it didn't seem so strange that your grandmother had fallen instantly head over heels for your grandfather after all, considering the man you found beneath the helmet.

The Mandalorian that sat before you didn't have the mean, hardened look you expected. His expression was soft, lips smooth and slightly downturned into a natural frown beneath the curve of a prominent nose. He hardly seemed to notice your stares as he dug into his food, his dark eyes staying fixed on his plate.

Djarin's dark hair was tousled and in disarray, likely from being plastered under a helmet for so long. He had a disheveled beard, graying in some places, that made you realize he had probably been traveling for some time without a true place to stay or a real bed to sleep in. It was only then that you noticed the cut on his lip, the gash across his cheek, and the bruise under his eye. What had happened to him? What had he endured to reach Nhora?

Din still wasn't sure what was considered an appropriate or inappropriate time to remove his helmet. But he reasoned that if you were a descendant of Mand'alor, then this was appropriate. And despite his better judgment, he trusted you. Your story had made him think that perhaps your coyness earlier was not a result of his sudden appearance but a mutual attraction the pair of you shared. You were a complete stranger, a queen even, and yet he felt he had known you all along, as if gravity had pulled him toward you. You radiated warmth and acceptance, something he rarely received as a Mandalorian.

Din pretended not to notice your stare, but then you stood abruptly, and he looked up.

"Most people don't recognize me when I take off this whole thing," you said, gesturing to the clothes you wore. Din could tell you were trying to make a comparison to his helmet, all a disguise to maintain a physical and emotional distance from those around you.

You began to pull off your robes, layer after layer of the royal get up you disliked more than you let on. You unwound the intricate scarf from your hair, aware that Djarin was watching the whole time as your hair fell unbound around your shoulders.

It was all ceremonial, he knew, but Din had noticed when he first met you that you didn't seem particularly comfortable in your position. Now you stood in your loose underclothes, arms and shoulders bare, headdress and scarves discarded on the floor, and you relaxed. Your efforts were a mirror to his, showing your vulnerability and gaining his trust. And you did look different, not quite unrecognizable but somehow even smaller and less imposing than before.

You suddenly felt nervous beneath Djarin's gaze and felt it best to keep your hands busy.

Turning toward a cabinet on the wall, you began rummaging through it, looking for the antiseptic. You could feel Djarin's eyes now trained on your back, watching your every move. "I don't have any bacta spray in here, but we should at least clean up that cut."

You pulled your chair closer to his. The proximity was delicious.

"This may sting a bit," you said as you applied a swab to the gash in his cheek, fingers holding his face in place. Din didn't pull away but he did hiss lightly. Your body was so close to his own he could smell the scent of you, light and flowery like your planet.

"So, what else does the Mandalorian need from me?" you asked, trying to distract him from the pain.

Din grunted, though not in discomfort but to regain his focus. "The people-- I'm not sure what they need. I'm a warrior, not a ruler. I didn't ask for this. Mandalore is essentially deserted, those who remain have nothing and I don't know where to begin. The creed is fractured, scattered throughout the galaxy. I don't even think most of them want to be found. Especially not by me."

You placed a gentle hand on his chin to tilt his head closer to yours, giving you access to the cut on this lip. Thin lines creased Djarin's eyes and forehead, marring his golden skin with worry and tension. His eyebrows knitted in constant concern. You wanted to smooth that look from his face but it was more than you thought he'd allow. Instead, you focused on his mouth, not that that helped your erratic pulse and quickening breath either.

The tenderness of the act caught Din off guard. A royal, stooping to his level, rolling up her sleeves to do the dirty work, was surprising. He got the impression that you were a reluctant ruler, though he couldn't tell why. Nhora was obviously a prosperous planet, covered in glittering cities and sprawling trade ports. What he'd seen of the people they seemed happy and healthy. How could you be so successful and yet so averse to the job you performed so well?

"You're a good man, Djarin. I understand your reluctance. I was not meant to be queen either. I didn't want to be queen, and yet the responsibility was thrust upon me. But you are a good father as well, and I've known the best fathers to make the best leaders."

"I'm not a father. Not anymore." The words were spoken with a deep sadness.

"I think the Child would beg to differ. He lights up like a glow frog when he hears your name."

"A glow frog?"

"Native to Nhora. The resemblance is uncanny."

Din chuckled at the image, knowing the kid could probably just swallow one whole. "Has he grown?"

"Perhaps a little, though it's hard to tell." You finished your first aid and leaned away. Djarin's questions made apparent his love for and connection to Grogu. How he'd managed to let him go in the first place was beyond you. You didn't have children and weren't sure if you ever would, yet their bond was enviable. "Somehow I don't think it's a coincidence that we crossed paths, Djarin. You and I and the kid."

Din wasn't sure what that meant. He didn't particularly believe in destiny, nor did he know how to respond, so he turned back to his food. Decades beneath the helmet had given him the luxury of hidden expressions and wordlessness. He didn't know how to act without its protection.

But something else was also forcing his speechlessness. Though your touch had left his skin, the ghost of your fingers remained, leaving him in silence. He was ashamed something so simple could affect him so intensely, and yet he was melting like ice beneath a warm sun.

And while you continued to speak of Grogu, of his obsession with metal balls and being held in the crook of your arm, Din's thoughts swirled not around the child but the soft touch of your fingers on his face. He realized had never been touched like that before, not that gently. And your hands were so smooth, unmarred and flawless from never having worked manual labor or been in a fight. They twisted in your lap, unable to stop moving despite the idle chatter you had fallen into.

You weren't sure why you couldn't stop moving. Was it Djarin's stare, the way he appeared to be listening to you intently though he never responded, or his large presence that filled the room, or just the excitement of meeting the man you had been thinking about for the better part of a year? You realized that you were rambling, filling the silence with your words, your hands wringing in your lap.

All of a sudden, a big hand reached out and covered yours. You silenced instantly. "You're going to twist your fingers off if you keep that up, Your Majesty."

A thrill jolted through your body. Most people addressed you by your title, out of respect. But the way it came from his mouth, in that lilting baritone, sent the world spinning.

"I should leave you, let you sleep," you said finally, needing to get away before your voice betrayed your heart's emotions. "I know you've had a long day. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need."

Maker, how you hoped he would stay. But Din Djarin would be gone in the morning.

---

The starship you had provided was more than Din could have asked for, large enough to accommodate his size and cargo, small and swift enough to fly fast and steady in whatever direction he required. Inside, his blaster, spear, and a new rifle found their place on the wall. Climbing into the cockpit, Din surveyed the array of buttons and flashing lights.

To the right, the joystick gleamed in the dim light of the shipyard hanger. It was topped with a square knob. A memory floated through Din's mind, the tiny claws of a green hand reaching out to grasp at the knob, the big ears and wide eyes and--

Pulling the metal ball from his pocket, Din unscrewed the square knob and tossed it aside. Miraculously the Razor Crest's hardware fixtures must have been similar enough to this ship's, and the metal ball screwed perfectly into place. He grasped it gently once more, before flicking a few switches and starting up the engine.

Keep moving. Always keep moving.

---

Djarin's touch lingered on your hands even as you fell asleep. You dreamed of him, of his face, tired but handsome, aged by worry and life, yet kind and full of that honor your grandmother claimed every Mandalorian of worth contained.

You dreamed that he stayed, protecting you and your people, the way your grandfather should have done. Perhaps your mother and sister would still be here if he had.

Those nightmares woke you, sweating and sitting straight up in bed in the near darkness. Soft light from Nhora's triplet moons glimmered through the window, bathing your room in a soft glow, easing the pain in your heart, and returning you to the present. You flopped back in bed, rolling onto your stomach to try to get comfortable.

"That kriffing Mandalorian," you sighed into the pillow. He occupied your thoughts as you drifted in and out of sleep, his eyes on yours, the softness of his face under your fingers, the way he'd let you take care of him, his hand steadying yours and bringing you back into your body. It tied a knot in your stomach and you cursed your grandmother for having given you such high expectations of the man. Yet they were expectations met.

And what if he stayed? Would you fall for him? Were you destined to do so, intertwined by some family history that fated you and him together? He must have felt the gravity too, the gravity that pulled you together and bound your lives.

You hadn't seen him without his beskar armor on, but you could only imagine what he might look like underneath it all, shoulders broad, skin smooth, back muscular and strong. Was he taught and wound, always ready for a fight, or soft and supple?

You'd been with men before. Plenty of them, in fact. They tended to fall at your feet, begging for the queen's attention and a chance to sleep in her bed. Nhoran queens never married, simply chose a man to be the one to continue on the line of queens that came before and the line that would come after. But none struck your fancy, none forced their way into your thoughts, none caused you to touch yourself with need when you were without their presence.

None like Djarin. It was a relief to orgasm beneath your hands, his face floating behind your eyelids. You came as the triplet moons set and the sun rose, as somewhere in the distance Djarin's ship was taking off, rumbling powerfully beneath his strong hands. The relief it brought you gave you several more hours of sleep, the best sleep of the past year.

You hadn't realized how starved you were for the Mandalorian until he was in your grasp.

---

The dense quiet of hyperspace allowed for sleep. Or too much thinking.

In this case, Din was doing the overthinking. In the holomessage he'd left you he'd tried to explain where he was going, what he was doing, that he'd be back. He didn't need to justify his actions to you. You'd given him permission to go about his business as he pleased, that you'd always be there for help if he needed it. But he felt he owed you some explanation.

There was so much to do, to plan, to look ahead to. And yet Din's thoughts surrounded only you and what he'd just left behind. Less than a day on Nhora and the planet called out to him, begging for his return. Or perhaps it was just you.

Din closed his eyes, willing sleep to find him, but only visions of you drifted through the darkness, your bare arms, your soft fingers, your face close to his, your scent. It was intoxicating. If he tried hard enough, he might be able to pick up that smell even now, lingering in the ship.

When he'd reached out to touch your hands, it had taken all his willpower to leave them there and not drag his fingers up your arm. It wasn't right, this sudden desire to touch you all over. You were just being kind. It was silly to think any further into it. And yet, the knot in his stomach and tightness in his pants said otherwise.

Din's eyes flew open, trying to rid you from his thoughts. Think about anything else, Maker be damned, anything but wanting to hold you, kiss you, drink in that scent forever and ever.

With a frustrated grunt, he stood and moved to the fresher, splashing cold water onto his face to relieve the tension in his chest. It didn't work.

"I don't even know your name," Din groaned into the silence of the ship, hands balled into fists and rubbing his eyes. It was useless. There was only one thing to do. With fumbling fingers, he undid his belt, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his pants. What would you think if you knew he was touching himself like this? But that only turned him on more, urging him forward to grasp his length with a rough hand. It only took a few pumps to finish, the fingers of his other hand gripping the edge of the sink as he grunted into the echoing silence of the fresher, amplifying the needy sounds.

He'd never let a woman drive him crazy. And yet you were going to do just that, already lightyears away.

*Read Next Part*

[corinnesamuels]

Guarding the Gates, Chapter 3: No More Questions, Please.

 . . . the Ministry of Magic requests that anyone with information on the whereabouts of any of the aforementioned witches and wizards listed as missing contacts the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at their earliest convenience, as their families would like to see them home. Up next: The Ministry of Magic reports the recent hurricanes reported in the West Country are the work of giants in league with You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters—

“Merlin and fucking Morgana.” Lily curses, running a hand over her face roughly in frustration. The mental notes she had been taking were beginning to look like a NEWT-level essay, but she still hadn’t gotten word that it was time to start working. She watched the skies each morning for owls and even checked the muggle post. Dumbledore had always been peculiar, and if she didn’t know better, she might have thought he’d forgotten. 

“I would advise you to rest up, Lily.” He had said in their last meeting. “Once we begin in earnest, breaks may be few and far between.

Lily sighs and lets her attention drift back to the wireless. They had shifted from missing persons and calamities to the upcoming Celestina Warbeck concert. It was almost odd to catch the juxtaposition, but people do need joy in times like these. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Lily looks up to see a barn owl tapping at her window. She opens the window and offers up pieces of bacon to the owl, which hoots happily as it sticks out a leg. Lily unties it and begins to do a quick scan, but the first line lets her know that it wasn’t from Dumbledore.

  I’m back, bitches!

  Lily laughs out loud, recognizing the telltale greeting style of one Dorcas Meadowes. Lily guesses that Dorcas just sent the same letter to her, Marlene, and Mary to save time. Dorcas talked a bit about her time with family over in the States.

  Disco is dying, sadly, but there’s this new upbeat thing happening that I expect to really take off. They’re calling it ���rap.” Race relations are still shit, but there’s a little progress, at least. I was hoping I’d be able to at least say the same about pureblood mania in England by the time I got back, but by the looks of things, the opposite has happened.

  “You’re right about that.” Lily says to herself dejectedly. At the end of Dorcas’ letter, she recommends they get together soon, and Lily couldn’t agree more. She writes a quick note saying that she can’t wait to catch up and offers up her flat as the gathering place. Lily taps the letter with her wand three times to duplicate it and sends the letters back off with Dorcas’ owl. As it flies away, she thinks of how excited she is to see them, but how difficult it might be for Mary. Lily hopes that gathering in a private place will help make Mary comfortable enough to join them but understands if it doesn’t. Mary had been more timid than the other girls in their year, and a timid muggle born was unfortunately too easy of a target for the Death-Eaters-in-Training over in Slytherin House. Since they’d finished school, Mary had taken a job in muggle London. Not sure that she wanted to risk being the focus of more attacks, she limited her interactions with the wizarding world as much as possible. 

Lily doesn’t judge Mary or blame her. But Lily didn’t have anything tethering her to the muggle world anymore. Petunia wanted nothing to do with her. Her parents and the rest of their family were all gone. And when she thinks of her life ten and twenty years from now, it’s always filled with the same wonder she felt when she first discovered the expansiveness and sheer possibility of magic. She thinks of children from non-magical families that need a safe space to learn and grow. She thinks of how the magic running through her veins is as much a part of her as the eyes she inherited from her father or the hair she inherited from her mother. And if that meant fighting for a place here, for herself and for others, then so be it.

The next day a letter comes from Marlene saying she had a few days off from St. Mungo’s and would be in attendance. Among other things.

  I’ll bring takeaway too. I don’t have faith that Lily’s cooking has gotten any better in the last four years.

  “Tramp.” Lily mutters.

A letter never comes from Mary to let them know if she would attend or not, but she was the first one to stumble out of Lily’s fireplace a few days later.

“I made a last-second decision because I’ve missed you terribly.” Mary says nervously. She tucks a blonde lock of hair behind her ear and looks at the floor before looking up at Lily. “I brought the good stuff, too.” She says, gesturing to a box containing several rather large bottles of mead sitting on her hip. 

Lily, who had been searching for a record to put on the player when Mary stumbled in, scrambles to her feet to take the box from Mary. She places it on the ground and immediately envelops Mary in the kind of embrace that makes it difficult to breathe. Mary quickly returns it, holding on to Lily for dear life. Lily feels her shoulders quake slightly and knows that Mary’s eyes are becoming as damp as her own. Yes, Lily had missed her friend dearly. She’d missed all of them. But knowing that Mary fought through her demons to see her? Lily isn’t taking that for granted.

“I’ve missed you.” She says when they take a step back. Lily uses her thumbs to wipe tears from Mary’s face before using the back of her hand to handle her own. 

“I’ve missed you more.” Mary says through a watery laugh that Lily returns. 

“Now this ‘good stuff’ you say you brought,” Lily says once they’ve gotten themselves composed again. She reaches into the box and pulls out one of the bottles. “Rosemerta’s Oak-Matured Mead, eh? Mary, you spoil us!”

“Yes, well. I wanted it to feel like we were sneaking it into Gryffindor Tower again.” Mary smiles. 

“James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were terrible influences on us.” Says Lily with a smile at the memories of her sneaking through Hogwarts tunnels with James to get  supplies  from The Three Broomsticks for various occasions. “Why didn’t we start hanging out with them sooner?”

“Because you said James was a git.”

“Well, in my defense, he was at the time.”

Lily and Mary look at each other and break into laughter as Lily’s fireplace turns green again. Dorcas and Marlene step out in quick succession and begin screaming and scooping Lily and Mary into a loud, weepy group hug. 

“Oh my God, Mary!”

“You came! I’m so happy to see you!”

“Lily, you’re really back for good?”

Once they settled and begun wiping away tears, Lily summons four glasses and plates. “Mary splurged on us birds and got us the good stuff.

“Is that so? Do I need to put out?” Dorcas asks. “Because if this stuff is as good as I remember when we were sneaking it into the tower, then I might not mind too much.” She says happily as she helps herself to the mead. 

“Not necessary, Dorcas, thank you, though.” Mary laughs before looking around at the girls anxiously. “My boyfriend might not like that.”

“Well, you kept that quiet!” Lily says.

“I’ve only been here a few minutes!” Mary replies. “He’s actually the one that got the mead. I . . . I’m still not quite comfortable in public wizarding spaces. It feels too exposed. Especially with things getting worse. But Reg knows I’ve missed you guys and told me that he’d do whatever he could to help me feel comfortable enough to come.”

Marlene, who had been laying out the food she’d brought, looks up and places a hand to her heart. “Mary, that’s beautiful.” She gushes.

“Right. Tell me, Mare,” Dorcas says, scooting closer to Mary and bumping her shoulder lightly. “does he have any brothers?”

They all laugh, and Mary shakes her head. “No, Reg only has sisters.”

“Better luck next time, I guess.” Dorcas sighs.

“Well, I’m flexible, so let me know if any are single.” Marlene wiggles her eyebrows, and they all laugh again.

“Reg . . . this wouldn’t happen to be Reginald Cattermole, would it?” Lily asks as she swirls her mead around in her glass.

“That’s the one.” Mary has a soft smile and a dreamy look in her eyes. “He’s been so good to me. Incredibly patient and kind.” She looks down at her feet, a smile still resting across her face. “He encourages me not to give up on the wizarding world and goes above and beyond to make me feel safe. I couldn’t dream of a better situation.”

Lily’s heart feels lighter than it has in months as she listens to Mary explain how she and Reginald had randomly run into each other on one of Mary’s rare wizarding excursions. It’s beautiful to know that people are still finding and experiencing love, even when it seems like the world is burning. She wishes that she felt like this was feasible for her. 

Honestly, had she not been distracted, she might have seen what was coming next.

“So, Lily.” Marlene begins with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “You and Potter finally making the beast with two backs, or are you still both pretending that you don’t want to?”

“Marlene.” Mary scolds as Dorcas laughs.

“I was wondering who was going to ask.” Dorcas grins, leaning in closer to get the details. Lily rolls her eyes.

“James and I are, again, just friends.” Says Lily as she throws a few chips at Marlene. “And besides, he has a girlfriend.”

“Ah.” The other three girls say in unison before dissolving into giggles. Lily is frustrated to find that she can’t prevent herself from joining them.

“Why don’t I have better friends?”

Dorcas gestures around the room. “Because we’re the best there is, love.”

“Ta.” Marlene says, raising a glass in salute before taking a large swallow and pouring herself another. 

“Now look, on a serious note. We don’t have to do this.” Dorcas says more kindly. “But Lily, why on earth didn’t you two get together in the first place? We all thought it was just a matter of time. The boys too.”

Marlene and Mary’s eyes wander from Dorcas to Lily, waiting to see what kind of answer they’ll get. Whether it’s because Lily is happy to see them, dying to talk to someone, or pleasantly tipsy, she doesn’t know, but she surprises herself and decides to tell them the truth.

Read the rest at ao3

[desperationandgin]

Strawberry Wine - The Final Chapter

Also Read on: AO3

Summary: The end ❤️

A/N: When I started this story, I really didn't think it would take this long to finish! At one point, I posted that it would likely stay an unfinished story forever. But inspiration came in the form of a gifted mood board and playlist, and here we are, at a conclusion. I'm so grateful for everyone who was still interested and came back to read through the end, and I'm so happy that first-time readers have enjoyed it as well!

Thank you to every single person who let me throw the google doc for these chapters at them. To Kris, Danielle, Saba, Beth, Erin, Julia, and Katie - you pushed me in incredible ways and I'm very lucky to have you all. And last but certainly not least, a major shout out of thanks and appreciation to Susan for taking the time to make the playlist that inspired the end of Strawberry Wine. One random gesture meant so much to me that it made me write. I'll always remember that.

Chapter 16: Green on the Vine (Epilogue)

I stood on the front steps of our home, taking in the rolling hills on the horizon beyond the farm. Closing my eyes, I breathed in the sweet smell of fresh-cut hay, relieved to know that Lallybroch’s most recent harvest was finished, making the air feel light and carefree. Around me were the noises of family, children shrieking and laughing. I smiled as I heard a loud giggle of surprise and knew that Jamie had swept up one of them, carrying them like a sack of potatoes.

“Gran!”

I looked up, shielding my eyes from the setting sun as our fourteen-year-old granddaughter made her way up the drive, pushing her bicycle.

“What are you doing here before your parents?” I asked, pleased to see her and reaching out for an embrace once she was close enough. She was taller than her mother, but my dark curls had passed on brilliantly.

“I wanted to talk to you and Grandda. Is he busy?”

I shook my head, looking curiously down at a large manila envelope she held in her hands.

“Never too busy for you,��� I promised, leading her inside and calling for Jamie. “Your younger cousins are keeping him entertained.”

When the three of us were settled in the living room, I watched Mandy, realizing she had, unfortunately, also inherited my glass face.

“Is everything alright?” I prodded gently, feeling Jamie tense beside me at the prospect of something being wrong.

“Everything’s fine,” she promised quickly, then hesitated as her hands moved to open the envelope. “Only, I’m doing a project for school. About World War Two.”

Without thinking much of it, my fingers found Jamie’s, holding onto him. It was a lifetime ago, it seemed, those years that we’d gone to war and been separated. As Mandy pulled the contents of her envelope out, I saw my own slanted penmanship and froze, realizing what she held in her hands before she had the chance to explain.

“Mama and I had to prove that these belonged to our family. They’re letters, Gran. The ones ye wrote to Grandda during the war. I wanted to surprise ye wi’ them.” She passed them over and I reached out, holding the weight of our family’s past in my hands and swallowing heavily. For a few seconds, I could say nothing, remembering how desperate my words had become in some of my correspondence.

“I haven’t read any of them,” Mandy promised. “I wasn’t sure how to give them to ye.”

“Darling, you have no idea what a gift this is,” I promised her sincerely, though my voice shook, handing the stack to Jamie so that I could stand and wrap our granddaughter in a hug.

It wasn’t as firm as it once might have been, but I squeezed for all I was worth, pressing a kiss to her temple.

After I released her, she turned to Jamie and bent down to kiss his cheek before disappearing to find her older cousins. Soon, everyone would arrive for Sunday supper, but for now, it was just Jamie and I in the room, the bundle of letters in his lap.

“Ye wrote so many times,” he said quietly, and I pushed a strand of faded copper hair behind his ear.

“I’d wager you wrote just as much. And if my letters were still out there…”

“Aye,” he murmured. “Mine could be, as well. Somewhere.”

It didn’t matter anymore, I thought. We’d shared more between us in half a century than we could have ever fit into letters.

I tugged one of the envelopes free, running my fingers over faded and smeared ink.

“Will ye read it to me?”

“Jamie,” I began, looking at him. “Are you sure?”

He reached for me, and as I curled against his side, I felt him nod and kiss the top of my head. “Aye. I’m sure, Sassenach.”

I pulled out the letter and unfolded it carefully, almost able to hear the sound of practice shots being fired as I wrote it decades ago; the smell of unwashed men and the vibration of military vehicles came back to mind easily. Wetting my lips, I began to read, surprised by how steady my voice was.

“Dearest Jamie,

I’m trying not to panic. I’m trying to calm my own fears by hearing you attempt to soothe me.

‘’Tis war, Sassenach,” you would say if you could. “And letters aren’t exactly a priority.” I know. I know that you’re fighting, that they could send you somewhere with no notice and no way to tell me. But I still can’t help dreading each month that passes without hearing from you. It’s been three now, and I thought perhaps, if you’re too exhausted to write, I could give you something to look forward to instead. When you receive this, if you receive it, you will know I still cherish and want the life we promised one another.

I’ve thought about the number of children you’d like, and four is a good, even number, don’t you think? There’s no telling on gender, but the first boy and our first girl should be named after your father and my mother respectively. Your father will be so proud, toting around his namesake. I hope that my mother would be proud; I think she would. After that, I wouldn’t mind having a wee Jamie. Perhaps even an Elizabeth.

We’ll see.

Today, I met a Scot who was raised in Aberdeen. He sounded so much like you that I wanted to close my eyes and pretend it was. That wouldn’t have been good for the infection in his arm I was attempting to take care of. I wanted it to be you so badly, Jamie.

Where are you?

If I don’t hear anything from you, then I’m going to write to Lallybroch. I don’t want to, I didn’t want to worry your father or Jenny unnecessarily, but if something’s happened to-”

I paused in my reading, the train of thought scribbled through. It was only then that I realized Elizabeth was in the room, her older sister beside her, and their younger brother was cradling our newest grandchild in the doorway.

“Keep going, mama,” Julia encouraged, smiling softly when I looked up at her.

“Aye, Sassenach,” Jamie murmured beside me, squeezing my free hand.

I had no idea how the letter would end, but continued, keeping hold of Jamie while the paper shook slightly as I read once more.

“When the war is over, we’ll pick up our pieces and begin again, Jamie. Wherever we happen to be, whatever we’ve seen and done, we’ll still have our adventures, our life. Think of the days you’ll come home only to find me waiting for you, a child in my arms, and later, children running to greet you. Our home will be warm and filled with a life the war couldn’t take from us. It’s trying, I know it is, but I refuse to give up on what we planned. What we’ve dreamed of together. When this letter reaches you, whether you write back or not, know that you promised me, James Fraser.

Don’t let this be the one you break.

I love you. I will always love you.”

I finished quietly, folding the letter back into the envelope and remembering how desperate I’d been for anything, any scrap of news, any information on where he might have been.

“You did it, Mam. You and da.”

I turned to look at Brian, giving our son a watery, wobbly smile.

“Listen, Sassenach,” Jamie urged, pulling me close so that I could rest my head on his shoulder. As his fingers moved through the silver of my curls, I closed my eyes and did as he asked. There was the quiet fussing of Brian’s daughter, Clara, and the quiet but thumping bass of one of Julia’s children listening to music too loudly a room over. Each one of our hopes and dreams stood under this roof, and I smiled as I let it bring me peace.

I knew for certain, even after all of the pain, death, and heartbreak we’d endured...in the end, the war had taken nothing from us.

It had only made us stronger.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

The Neighbors Son

You meet your new neighbors son.

Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, Mature-ish, angst

A/n: so this is the start of my Clark Kent Imagine series that will sort of run alongside my Bruce Wayne ones, I re-wrote this about eight times so hope you like the final result as for the health insurance I'm British so have no idea how it works I just went along the lines of how car insurance works here.

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @thatgirly81​

The Neighbors Son

Martha chuckled as you sat at her kitchen table grumbling over the papers in front of you.

"You do you lot have to do things so weird?! What the hell is this shit ?And what the fuck does that word even mean. Its not a word that's the fucking alphabet in the wrong order! THEY MADE UP NEW WORDS Martha can you take me out back and shoot me please? At this point I think that's my only option" You grunted resting your head on the table. Martha sighed rolling her eyes at your dramatic display you felt her slip the paper from underneath your head.

"Just whats gotten you so work up now girl..... Health insurance? Well its about damn time! You've been here four months .....I can see why this can seem difficult." She scanned the documents and slapped the side of your head making you sit up.

"Come on up, right this one is the best value but doesn't cover dental or opticians, so you have to pay for them, but it covers illness and emergancey care, if you choose the next one up you’ll get that and it also covers for maternity care." She pointed out the different options, you knew that you’d been lucky in England to have the nhs but until now you didn't know just how lucky.

"Can I upgrade? Like at a later date if I wanna have a one?" The older woman scanned the documents.

"Yes but you wont be able to claim anything for prenatal or maternity for at least six months after adding it to the policy." You nodded you didn't really see yourself accidentally falling pregnant for that you'd need to have sex and you've been on a dry spell since being here. You nodded taking the paper from her."So I will just do that then"  you said wanting it over and done with she sighed at you crossing her arms giving you 'the look' that every woman got when she became a mother."How many have you looked at?" You shrunk under her stern gaze and rubbed the back of your neck nervously.

"Errr so far? In total? One" she sighed shaking her head at you, before pouring you both another coffee setting it in front of you,she hadn't realized how lonley she had been once the farm house across the field had been empty not until you had moved in, all the way from England you had bought the house with your inheritance selling most of the fields to others in the area just keeping a small two acres around the house for yourself. She had met you the day you moved in coming over to introduce herself see if you needed help, you both instantly hit it off and it wasn't long before she was looking out for you. It was hard for you to adjust to life here, loosing your dad was bad but she then found out that your mother had caused major problems practically chasing you out of the country, the woman had been unhappy with the will and wanted her 'half' tho it wasn't millions it was enough for you to live comfortably in the end you'd had to move as she kept coming around to the house causing problems and harassing you for money, you'd had to get away far away so settled in Kansas. It was different but a welcome change, slower and laid back sure sometimes you missed not being in the Hustle and bustle but you had everything you need, a comfy house ,decent car and an income from your books, you was an author writing adult books, tales of gorgeous cowboys, dominant business men and mafia king pin's all falling in love with the women of their dreams with erotic twists and scenes that would make a porn star blush. Martha had been a huge help since you got here ,she had taken you under her wing watching over you and you'd become fast friends, always finding yourselves at each others houses helping each other out. You groaned as she shook her head at you knowing the look. There was a lecture coming.

"That’s just silly, you should look around compare prices and policies, it could save you a lot of money in the long run, especially you i mean your a trouble magnet how you haven't already ended up in ER I don't know?" You smiled sweetly at her

"Because a have a kind and loving neighbor to patch me up" you said casting a look to the scar on your arm where she had sewed you up after a nasty fall on some farming equipment in the barn. She huffed at you rolling her eyes kids. And you was a kid only twenty seven years old younger then her Clark, sometimes she asked you why you don't go into town and meet some people your age you'd always cringe and shiver saying that they were to immature or just banged on about marriage and kids, which neither interested you in the slightest you were quite happy with things the way they were. Martha looked up as the dog perked up outside whining and yipping happily before she heard him

"Ma? You here?" She smiled as he entered the house wrapping her up in his arms she hugged him back.

"Clark? What are you doing here?"  She pulled back a little seeing him upset she cupped his face.

"Oh god whats wrong? Is everything okay? Whats happened?"

"Its Lois...we had an argument I had to leave her Ma, its over she couldn't see past the super-" Martha quickly shushed him as You stood awkwardly thinking it better to leave not wanting to intrude. The man snapped his head in your direction releasing his mum and you were floored he was stunning, sure she had showed you photos of her son but they didn't do any justice. Tall broad and strong his biceps were fucking huge his chest tapered into a perfect v, dark hair hanging in messy curls atop his head some falling forward just skimming his eyes that were a glistening bright blue you felt your pussy clench violently. Fuck. You was so lost that you failed to notice him staring right back at you it was Martha clearing her throat that snapped you both out of what ever trance you'd both been put you under.

"Cheers for the coffee but I should get back and leave two to catch up, anyway this next chapter isn't gonna write itself..... at this point I don't think I’m gonna write it either." You said with a chuckle Martha turned to you putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh no you don't, your going park you butt right there and stay here to search other quotes" you gaped at her looking to her son he held up his hands staying out of it.

"Don't you go looking to him,he wont help you" you huffed crossing your arms

"Did you just give me homework? It sounds like you gave me home work." She nodded

"Damn right, health insurance is a big deal and you don't just pick the first one that pop's up on the internet" you pouted at her trying to change her mind she just stared you down tilting her head then you threw your hands up.

"Oh for fuck sake, fine I will look Jesus Christ" she nodded smiling not missing the way you and Clark was stealing glances at one another, well you stole glances Clark was out right staring. She slapped him upside the head.

"Don’t be rude son introduce yourself" he stuttered shyly flushing at being scolded before holding out a hand towards you quickly.

"Er Clark Kent nice to meet you Mrs?" You took his hand not surprised by how warm it was I mean this guy was hot, it only made sense right?.

"Miss Y/n Y/L/N but just call me Y/n everyone does....apart from your mum she calls me 'a pain in the ass'" he chuckled

"Then we already have something in common" you laughed as Martha motioned for you both to sit at the table smiling knowingly, she saw how Clark couldn't look away how the sorrow in his eyes disappeared as he looked at you. Clark couldn't tear his eyes away from you he gulped eyes raking over your form his mouth gone dry speechless. Wow. You was very attractive like you walked out of one of his fantasies, a tiny homely looking girl light tan with deep chocolate wavy hair in a short bob twisted in a half up do, tiny bun in the back with a few loose strands framing your small face that had a dusting of freckles from being out in the sun, tho he guessed that some were more permanent as they didn'tstop on your face trailing down into you blouse, his breathing hitched as his eyes couldn't help peeking seeing the tops of you breasts spilling over the cups of your bra as you slouched over the table barely resting your elbow on it due to how small you was. His cock twitched you were very tiny the top of your head didn't even reach the top of his chest, he estimated you to be around four foot nine maybe four foot ten he grunted a little, he did have a thing for smaller women, he loved that he towered over average sized women but you were like his dream girl,fuck if he didn't want to fold you in half and fuck you senseless. His pants tightened at the thought, he bet you'd struggle to take him but given the chance he would find a way to impale you forcing your little body to take every punishing inch he grunted a quietly his stomach clenching. He quickly pulled his eyes away before either you would notice trying to calm his slightly ragged breaths this wasn't like him at all, he had been raised a gentleman but sitting here he felt anything but. Drawing his eyes up to yours. Incredible, he got many compliments for his eye but yours were something else, one a light brown honey colour the other was the brightest green he had ever seen, like someone had captured an emerald with in it, he swallowed dryly again becoming hot under the collar twitching in his pants as he continued to assess you. He wasn't sure what you was doing in his Mothers house but he had no complaints whatsoever.

"S-so Y/n your not from around here." his voice cracked a little as he spoke you shook your head at him a little uncomfortable as Martha pottered about the kitchen busying herself with making a fresh pot of coffee, you moved to help her but she just shook her head at you.

"No I moved here four months ago from England, your mum has been helping me get settled, America is a lot weirder than I had initially thought" you giggled a little nervously crossing your legs trying to fight off the building tension between your thighs, it wasn't every day you sat across for a delicious looking male, already picturing him as the main character in your next book with the amount of fantasies you were sure to come you'd probably have enough material for a whole series. He grit his teeth a little as his cock jumped at the melodious sound of your voice and thick southern British accent, he wouldn't admit but your voice had now become his favorite sound of all, imagining just how high he could get it if you ever gave him a chance.

"Wow that’s pretty far, and you chose Smallville why not one of the big cities?" He asked as Martha walked across the kitchen washing up some dishes in the sink, you frowned she never did that when you was here, she was up to something.

"Well Gotham didn't look to promising and I couldn't find anything in metropolis, I didn't have much time to move and when I saw the farm house I thought why not and bought it now I'm just  across the field from your mum. I might get a small place in the city at some point but right now I'm quite happy here"

"You haven't even been to metropolis yet and your already thinking of buying a place there? shouldn't you check it out first? Maybe you could show her around when she does visit Clark? Take her to see the sights she'd like that? Wouldn't you y/n?" Your jaw sort of hung open....was she trying to set you up with her son? You chuckled nervously seeing the smirk on the other woman face.

"Oh Martha he's probably busy-"

"No! No I'm not, I'm not busy at all!.....I-I mean sure I could to show you around." He interrupted you then flushed, Martha shook her head the boy wouldn't know sublty if it bit him on the ass. You blushed sipping more of your coffee.

"Well if your sure... but I need to finish my book I've already postponed the release date once, don't think the publisher will like another one" he smiled as his mother set down a cup and fresh coffee pot he refilled everyone's cups as she took a seat at the head of the table sitting back watching you both fumble around your words blushing and stuttering, there was definitely something going on here and she was a little smug and had a feeling she was going to enjoy this next bit.

"Your a writer? What do you write?" You blushed bright at his question. Oh shit.

"Haha Yeah, well I sort of write books, fiction"

"I don't think I've heard of you tho?" you looked down going beet red your pussy dampening your panties at the idea of him lying back in his bed reading one of your raunchy books.

"I use an alias so I don't get any backlash" he looked a little surprised but it wasn't uncommon even some journalists did this mostly if the do honest reviews of shops and services

"Oh so what type of fiction do you write children's books?" You flushed more at his innocence looking to Martha who was snickering quietly to herself. She was going to be no help here whatsoever.

"No..Not children's books...My stuff is more...Mature" you desperately looked to Martha eyes screaming. Help me!. poor Clark tilted his head a little not understanding why you seemed to be getting so embarrassed

"Oh for teens then?" his mother finally cracked up laughing out right at the face you pulled at him deciding to put an end to to sorry affair, it was painful to watch.

"Oh for god-She writes porn Clark! Erotica, Adult fantasies" Clark spat his coffee not ready for that at all, coughing and spluttering,you got up quickly just dodging the drink sprayed in your direction.

"MARTHA!..Oh shit are you okay big guy?" Patting to poor mans back as Martha sat there sipping her coffee smirking into her cup.

"What? Like I'm wrong? we'd be here all day if I'd let that pan out" You flushed at her words as he finally caught his breath before you sat back down and sunk in your seat mortified she just came out and said it.

"Ah okay then wow I didn't expect that....I mean you look so cute...Not that I don't think you can be sexy and cute cos you are shit I mean er what do I mean?...Its just not what I'd have thought you'd write....But there's nothing wrong with that, I imagine its quite hard NO!no not hard...Not that its easy that's not what I meant just that it would be hard-Difficult! difficult it would be difficult to write." Martha laughed out loud having the time of her life as you both flushed bright red, Clark was trying to talk himself out of his own embarrassment, you on the other hand just Blinked at him as he had a melt down so red he looked like his head was going to pop, finally taking pity on him you interrupted his babbling.

"Its okay...I get what you mean...Sometimes its... Difficult but you just you know keep at it..." Martha smiled oh yes you two definitely liked each other, now if only she could find a way to set you up together. An awkward silence fell over the kitchen as you fiddled with your cup a little and Clark trying to look anywhere but you failing miserably, she decided to have some mercy and change the subject and let you know that he was available all at once.

"So you and Lois are over for good this time?" You leaned back in your seat watching his face drop you couldn't help feel sorry for him.

"Yeah, she just kept pushing, wanting me to be someone I'm not, to play that part all the time I'm sick of it! it started got to the point I no longer had any choice, I'd do what ever for a quiet life even if it made me unhappy" Martha sighed at him she had seen this coming for a long time but had to step back and let him figure it out for himself.

"Clark I'm sorry things didn't work out I really am but she would never be satisfied until everything went her way you knew that"he nodded solemnly sighing you could tell who ever this Lois was had meant the world to him.

"I think I knew deep down she wasn't the one, I just thought if I carried on, if I stuck with it she would see how it was effecting me and change just a little for my sake. Just like I did for her you know?"

"She was never going to son, in her eyes you had become what she wanted so she didn't have to change at all but she forgot the most important thing in a relationship that's its give and take she forgot to be what you needed" Martha held his hand  he sighed looking at her nodding.

"Well this happened just over three weeks ago and she is still carrying on like we are together, like nothings changed! showing up at my apartment when she feels like it and throwing a fit when i don't let her in and is telling everyone I'm her date to this party now I'm stuck, I don't want to go with her but if I go alone then she's going corner me." he sounded exhausted and fed up and slightly bitter towards this woman and with good reason you knew how this type of thing could were on someone, you'd seen it first hand growing up.

"Party? what Party?" he waved his hand at his Mothers question

"A staff party celebrating another award and I don't want to go alone, if I do I know I will end up going back to her I really don't want to. So need to find someone else but there is no one shes still letting everyone think we're together! and none of them want to be on her bad side. I just need a woman to pretend to be my girlfriend for one night"

"Now Clark that's not fair on whoever you take, your a handsome boy and anyone you take might really like you it could crush them if they find out your using them. You can't use one women to prove a point to your ex it isnt right your father and I raised you better then that." You interrupted before she could lay into him anymore.

"I can understand what he is getting at tho, sorry to interrupt and if I'm being out of line tell me, but she sounds like my Mother, relationships are give and take, you can't just take and take and expect your other half to put up with it, Clark if you need someone to go with you to make it clear your finished with her I will go with you, no strings attached or hard feelings but women who think everything should revolve and change around them and their needs really fucks me off!! especially when they pull that shit on a sweet genuine person, in the end these women just destroy the men their with. I don't know you very well but Martha raised you so you can't be that bad and that's enough for me." You hissed some of the words it was like your parents all over again. Your mother was spoilt and selfish always demanding that your father change the way he was for her, you had watched as he had given up everything for her but it was never enough, he had to play a part and it ate away at him for years sending him into a deep depression, yet she never did anything in return or tried to help him. In the end, you at seven years old had found him trying to commit suicide. The thought of you being the one to find his body was what broke the camel's back he threw her out the next day then tried divorcing her but she wouldn't sign the papers so instead they remained separated she had nothing so you was left in your dads care, he was happier then ever but the damage had been done he never found anyone else, she hung around every few months trying to weasel her way back in missing the money more than her family, when she didn't get her way she tried to destroy any happiness he found. Luckily he had sense enough to rewrite his will and piddle away the money in the account he had left to her his final fuck you to her was when the executor of the will read out that you was left with the car, house and just over seven hundred and eighty thousand pounds the housekeeper Susanna was left the holiday home in Devon and forty thousand pounds and your mother well she got twenty nine pound sixty seven pence and was aloud to have the expensive china that the Susanna had been instructed to smash after his passing....Yeah your dad was a bastard but it was funny as fuck. That’s why you had to leave she kept coming to the house harassing you for money. The restraining order hadn't worked so you decided to move you had the means to do it so went for it, she would never find you here and couldn't use the fact shes your mother to find you because you wasn't a minor the cherry on top the account that your dad was leaving for your mother was what he used to pay for your college and university. Martha sighed knowing why you got so wound up and you was right Lois was similar to your mother.

"You'd do that? Really?" You nodded to him smiling

"Absolutely I ain't afraid of no American.... apart from your mum shes scary as fuck, but seriously I can handle anything she tries to throw at me and you can show me around town while your at it, I'm guessing its in metropolis? when is it?" Martha sat back a little stumped turns out she wont have to set you two up after all.

"Err Its this Saturday ,you sure you want to come what about your book?" you waved him off

"Its fine Clark I can bring my laptop and work on it in the hotel" he nodded grinning wide suddenly excited about this next week then faltered.

"Don't bother booking a hotel you can stay with me for the week after all your doing me a huge favor its the least I can do to repay you" he chose to ignore his mothers raised brow. She had a few guesses at exactly how he was planning to pay you back and she doubted it was just going to be bed and breakfast.... probably breakfast in bed if the looks he gave you were anything to go by, not that she minded you would be a better fit for him anyway. Call it mothers intuition but she got the feeling that Clark would be around a little more now that you were just across the field.

"Oh no I couldn't! a hotel would be fine"

"I insist I would love nothing more then to have you to myself for the week" Martha tried to bite back a laugh, she never realized how cheesy her son was trying to flirt, no wonder he didn't have much success but she could see you fall for it hook line and sinker as you flushed squirming in your seat a little, he smirked at you from across the table getting more confident, he liked to think that he had already caught you. Prick he new exactly what he was doing as he leaned back man spreading, making your walls clench.

"You could spend the week ,we can catch a train tomorrow afternoon if you like, be back in time for dinner there's a nice diner near my apartment" you nodded a little suddenly feeling like one of the women in your books flustered heart racing a mile a minute as the man of your dreams offers to take you away from the boring daily routine. The question was were you brave enough to follow through with it, hell you'd moved to the other side of the world on a snap decision, spending a week alone with a drop dead gorgeous man should be a breeze, it didn't take long to decide giving him a shy smile nodding as you had butterflies in your tummy. His face lit up

"Great I will check the train times It's Sunday service but there should still be some in the afternoon"

"Perfect! I should go and pack then I suppose,Martha if I leave a key here could you watch the house for me and feed the fish when I'm gone" she nodded quickly excited but anxious at the same time, hoping that you would hit it off with Clark but at the same time apprehensive about how fast you was going, after all you only just met, but you were both adults and could handle yourselves and she knew you'd be safe with him.

"Oh is it formal or what?"

"Oh yes, its theme is Hollywood glam"

"Oooo I've got the perfect dress, any way I'm off and will see you both tomorrow be back around eleven tomorrow morning?" he stood nodding walking you to the door making you swoon inside as he opened the door above you reminding you just how big he was, a gentle giant.

"I-I'll see you tomorrow then Clark" he leaned down to your ear whispering

"Can't wait, sweet dream's Y/n I know mine will be" you gasped as he pulled away winking chuckling at your hot cheeks, he could have a lot of fun making you blush he decided as you turned quickly scampering down the stairs away from the house towards yours, who's roof you could barely see over the crops from this distance. He stayed there leaning on the door frame arms crossed groaning watching your ass sway as you made your way into the brakes in the crops what the tractors used to get across the field disappearing into the high crops.

"So you like her then?" he jumped back bumping into the door frame making it creak a little at his mothers sudden appearance, she giggled folding the tea towel in her hands.

"Wow you must have taken a shine to her if your so mesmerized by her or more specifically her backside, that I can sneak up on you,I haven't been able to do that since you were a little boy." he chuckled embarrassed that she'd caught him staring

"Not that I think you would but Clark? don't play with her feelings okay? shes a good kid and had it tough over the past few years and she doesn't need a heart break on top of everything else" he snapped his head to his mom.

"Ma you know I wouldn't-" she fixed him with a look

"You just admitted in there that you was going to use some poor girl to make a point to Lois and I'm telling you now if you hurt her I wont be impressed"

"I wouldn't do that to her, I wont hurt her I promise, but I would like to get to know her more...see if we could you know" she smiled softly at him

"I'm just saying your a handsome man and she could fall for you easily, don't use her as a rebound." he sighed she had a point but after seeing you all thoughts of Lois died.

"I like her Ma do you-do you think maybe she could like me to? this time have a relationship with me, get to know Clark Kent before Superman? that Clark could be enough this time?" that made her pause clenching the cloth in her hands twisting it, there was something in the way he said that, so unsure and hopeless she fumed inside his confidence was knocked she felt like she was speaking to the shy beaten down preteen he once was. He truly believed that Clark Kent wasn't good enough anymore and there was only one person to blame for that,it was with those words she realized that Lois had hurt him and hurt him bad, she sighed pulling him down kissing his cheek then cupped his cheeks making him look her in the eye.

"Now you listen to me and you listen well. You are good enough and you are loved, I don't know what Lois has put into your head, and for her safety I don't think I should know, but you forget it right this instant! you hear me?" he nodded a little still unsure as Martha searched his eyes for a little glimmer of confidence but her heart clenched when she couldn't find any, that confidence from earlier must have been false bravado. Lois was lucky she wasn't going to metropolis herself she's probably kill her for hurting her baby, tho she's sure Y/n was going to rip her apart in her stead it was a pity she wouldn't be there to see it.

"I think Y/n is already smitten with you and that you'd be good for one another. I've only known her four months but She doesn't try to be anything she's not, she takes people as she sees them and doesn't have time for all the games other women play its why we get along so well. And as a side note she has never reacted like that to any one else's attempts at flirting trust me there have been quite a few try when we've been out and she shut them down....Quite brutally now that I think of it. But if your serious about her give it your all I don't think you will be disappointed I think you'd be a good match." she wiped under his eye as they welled a little with unshed tears.

"Y-you really think she could like me?" he asked in a small voice.

"There’s no doubt in my mind that she already does, you think she'd agree to spend a week with you if she didn't? Honestly if you both hadn't made plans I was going to play matchmaker myself. Now why don't you go have a cold shower? and I can start on dinner"

"Cold shower?"

"You think I haven't notice your problem?" he flushed laughing wiping at his eyes and pulling his top down a little trying to cover the tent in his pants as she walked back into the house patting his back.

"Oh shit! You think she notice to?!" his mother laughed shrugging

"Who knows I mean she was checking you out to" as she entered the kitchen he stood there dumbfounded

"What Are you sure? I didn't notice"

"You wouldn't your a man, now go have a shower you are not eating at the table like that" he groaned shaking his head closing the front door making his way up the stairs to the bathroom.

[riddlegecko]

Hmm...

I think it would be interesting to flesh out Emma going to visit Jane (and see Tim, maybe for the first time if we’re staying in canon here) and learning that she’s gone. Maybe not terribly fluffy though, but fun dynamics with Tim and it could explain how she ended up staying with Tom and Tim for the borrowers AU?

In terms of fluff, sorry my brain doesn’t like fluff without some tinge of sadness, for HOHF, Emma and Paul fight [villain of your choice] and someone gets hurt and the aftermath of that. Alternatively, I’d love to know if Tim has the Nitro Gene and if so, if he joins his Aunt Emma and Uncle Paul in the field. That could be so cute! (Although, he could also join mission control or maybe make friends with another super if Hannah has powers as well? But that’s not Paulkins...) If you feel like picking up a family fluff piece, which is personally my favorite genre, lol, I’d love to see Paul and Emma as parents and if their child shows their powers early (since it’s not nitro gene specific from Paul, if it can be inherited, of course, and now I’m imaging Jack Jack from the incredible, lol) or for Harriet and Tex to come back and see their baby (oh that would be adorable because grandparent plants and you can imagine how proud they would be of Emma!) or to see how Slacky interacted with the baby. (I’m imagining a how a Golden Retriever interacts with babies now... 😂) Or, if you’d prefer to ignore children all together, Emma going back home and taking Paul to meet Harriet and Tex (meet the parents essentially). Well, I’m not sure if any of those ideas seem interesting, but if not, I hope they’re able to help get some fun ideas flowing. Have a lovely weekend! 😊

Okay, so... A lot of these are stuff that I want to explore in longer stories eventually, both the Borrowers AND the HoHF prompts. But you DID give me an idea for some HoHF family fluff between Emma and Tim!

"Here's that big project I was telling you about!"

Emma had been back in Hatchetfield for what, six, seven months now? And she'd long since made a name for herself as Wild Flower. She was respected, loved even, by the town that had once cast her aside. And what's more, she'd managed to connect with her nephew, who seemed to think she was cool despite her absence for most of his life! If it wasn't for the fact that Tim didn't know she was Wild Flower yet, she would've chalked it up to that.

After all, Tim loved superheroes. Understandable, considering his mother was one of the most revered supers in the country before she died. Being raised by someone like that was bound to give someone a deep respect for the career. And right now, Tim was showing Emma his most recent token of appreciation. A social studies project he'd done for school about superheroes around the world.

It was a large cardboard diagram, with a map of the world taped to it. Coming from a line pointing to each continent (barring Antarctica, because duh), was a photograph of a super that was native to said continent, accompanied by a short paragraph with information about them.

"Wooooow, you really know your supers, bud!" Emma mused as she scanned over the diagram, impressed.

Tim looked up at her with a bashful smile. "Thanks," he said, blushing. "Wanna hear more about each one?"

"Educate me!"

"Okay, so," Tim began excitedly, pointing to the super whose picture corresponded to Australia. A woman with long, blonde hair and a bright blue superhero getup. "That right there is Tidal Crash, she's an Australian super with the power to control water."

"Can she talk to sea creatures?" Emma asked, encouraging her nephew to continue.

"Yeah, telepathically," Tim replied. "She's like the cool version of Aquaman."

Emma snickered at Tim's snark. God, he was such a Perkins. He continued on, pointing to the picture next to Africa. A dark-skinned man with long dreadlocks and an award-winning smile, half his face covered by a deep purple mask.

"That's Radi ya Umeme," Tim continued to explain. "He's from Kenya, and his name is Swahili for 'Lightning Strike'. He can control the weather, but he's really good with lightning, hence the name. He's kinda like Madbolt in a way, only y'know, not evil."

Emma chuckled, remembering her most recent encounter with that old nutjob. Madbolt was a fascinating case, he'd been causing trouble for Hatchetfield since around the time Emma was born. Not even Jane had managed to land him behind bars. Tim continued, his finger landing on the South American picture. A man with dark, curly hair and deep brown eyes, clad in a black leather costume.

"That guy is Espalda con Púas, his name is Spanish for 'Spiked Back'," Tim said, talking as though he was still presenting the project to his teacher and classmates. "He's from Chile, and as his name would imply, he can grow spikes out of his back and sharpen his teeth and nails into fangs and claws!"

Emma nodded, urging him to continue. With an excited smile, Tim moved on to Asia, where a picture of a short-haired woman with a shining mask lay.

"That's Dá Quy, she's from South Vietnam," he continued. "Her name means 'Gemstone', and she can control different ores and minerals and stuff."

Tim moved on to Europe, where a picture of a woman with short brown hair and an elegant, but still practical costume lay.

"That's Lady Nighthawk, she's from England," he explained as Emma continued to listen intently. "She can talk to animals and harness their abilities to fight. She visits Hatchetfield once a year, too!"

"Right! I think I remember your mother telling me about meeting a 'Lady Nighthawk' before!" Emma exclaimed in recollection.

"Yeah, mom worked with a lot of supers," Tim mused fondly before moving on to the final picture, the one corresponding to North America. A grizzled man with long dirty-blonde hair and a decked-out suit. "And finally, there's Eagle Eye! He's an ex-military general who can shapeshift into a bald eagle! And he's got this awesome combat suit that he uses in human form! He's from Washington D.C., but just like Lady Nighthawk, he visits Hatchetfield sometimes!"

Emma smiled at the sight of the super who'd been acting as a mentor to her for the past week. During a rescue mission she'd nearly bungled, Eagle Eye- or John MacNamara as she'd learned his real name was, swooped in to lend a hand. He'd taken a shine to her, and offered to help coach her in the ways of being a superhero. Emma had been learning lots of valuable information off of John. But of course, there was no way Emma could tell Tim about-

"Speaking of, did you hear that he's been working with Wild Flower lately?"

Okay, nevermind! Emma froze, surprised by her nephew's casual mention of her alias. Was this a good time to tell him? Better test the waters to be sure...

"Oh yeah, Wild Flower!" she exclaimed, trying to play it cool. "I've, uh... been hearing lots about her lately!"

"Yeah, it's so weird!" Tim chuckled. "It's like she just came out of nowhere!"

Emma nervously drummed her fingers on the headboard of Tim's bed, where they'd been sitting for the past couple of minutes. Did he mean that in a good way or a bad way?

"She's awesome, though!" Tim continued, an excited sparkle in his eyes. Emma's heart began to race. "Her powers are so cool! I mean, she can summon that big flytrap thing! What was it's name again?"

"Slack-Jaw?" Emma replied, a barely-contained smile on her face.

"Right, Slack-Jaw!" Tim recalled. "And did you see her new costume? The green jacket with the cool logo on it?"

"Mhm!" Emma hummed in response, happily recalling the day she was presented that jacket at Town Hall. The mayor had recognized her feats of heroism, and had the jacket tailor-made for her to replace that ratty old, ill-fitting red leather jacket she'd bought from a Goodwill in a scrambled effort to make a good costume. It still needed some tweaks now, but the new jacket was an excellent start.

"And now that she's getting lessons from Eagle Eye, she's only gonna get better!" Tim gushed. "She's just so- Aunt Emma? What're you smiling so hard for?"

God, Emma couldn't keep this secret any longer. She had to tell him.

"I have a question for you, bud," she began, resisting the urge to just tell him outright. "Did your mom ever say anything about both her and me having the Nitro Gene?"

Tim's eyebrows shot up. "Oh yeah!" he exclaimed. "But she said that you didn't like talking about your powers, so she never told me what they were. I figured you still wouldn't wanna talk about them, so I never asked."

Emma's heart fluttered. What had she done to deserve such a considerate nephew? "You wanna take a guess?"

"O-okay, but why n-" Tim cut himself off, the gears clearly turning in his head. After a few moments, he turned to Emma with a look of awed realization on his face. "W-wait, Aunt Emma... Are you saying that you're...?"

"Wild Flower?" Emma finished, eyeing him cheekily. "You bet!"

A smile slowly blossomed onto Tim's face. "No way!" he exclaimed. "B-but mom always said you didn't wanna be a superhero!"

"Well, people change their minds sometimes!" Emma retorted. "And I decided to finally put my powers to good use once I came back home."

"Wow..." Tim gaped breathlessly.

"But I'm still your Aunt Emma, first and foremost!" Emma quickly clarified. "I'm still the same person, just y'know... with plant powers."

"O-of course!" Tim stammered, his mind looking certifiably blown. His face grew serious. "And don't worry, I won't tell anybody about your secret identity!"

Emma snickered, tousling her nephew's hair. "I appreciate it, bud," she said, pulling him into a hug. "...Want me to introduce you to Slack-Jaw?"

"...Maybe."