#i want to cry. i want to hug her. i want gideon back for her

[lilyliveredlittlerichboy]

1 - Nine months before

Oh we are back to second person narration <3 my beloved.

Harrow throwing up from lifting a sword.... oh honey. oh honey. where's Gideon when we need her??

... Oh Harrow. Oh my darling girl. Away from all the comforts of home, with only strangers to surround you, saddled with a new, unknown duty, not even managing to lift a sword. A sword which hates you, hates you more than even Gideon used to hate you.

Oh, Harrow.

I so deeply want to give her a hug right now.

With only your old hallucination for comfort... grief weighing you down so much, you barely know if you're alive or dead -

Of course no one else is allowed to touch your sword.

Oh, Harrow.

2

You said, with difficulty: “What is happening to me?” “You��ve had a shock,” said the Emperor, which was not an answer, actually. “Does this happen to all new Lyctors?” “Some of them,” he said vaguely, which did not fill you with relief.

It's grief, Harrow. Grief for your only friend and constant companion, one whose company you never were without. Sudden, drastic change. Losing all that is familiar to you.

Oh, Harrow.

I enjoy the thanergy/thalergy (they're different?!) empathy from Harrow. Feeling seven hundred other bodies must be so intense for her, though - she wasn't ever in the company of more than, a few dozen at most, at the Ninth and at the First.

No wonder she can't feel her own feelings and sensations. Oh, Harrow.

The writing does so well to convey the acheing disparity between the shiny, polished spaceship and Harrow's numbness, inability to adjust. It makes my soul scream.

“Oh my God,” you said, forgetting that the deity in question was right there. “The ancient dead. You’ve committed resurrection.” He said, “No. I haven’t truly resurrected anyone in ten thousand years.

So you can?????? SO YOU CAN?????? It's a - a crime, a taboo perhaps, but he is GOD, so who cares????

Bring Gideon back this instant, motherfucker.

(And they're all necromancers anyway, so truly - who cares? I guess the intricacies of necromancy still escape me. But also. I want Gideon back so bad. For Harrow. Let my girl have SOME relief!!!!)

You took the chilly metal stairs two at a time, feeling your heart ram against serous pericardium,

Anyway, people who DON'T happen to have a degree in human anatomy, I want to hear from you. Were you googling things constantly while reading? Were you just accepting that these were some kind of Body Words and trying to guess from context what was meant? I want to know.

Oh, I see now. Thanergy is dead-energy, Thalergy is life-energy. That makes a lot of sense, somehow.

(WAIT. Harrow can sense BACTERIA????? How loud is her world, at the best and quietest of times?????)

... the plain grey-sheeted hexagons intended for the Sixth, though there were pitiable scraps and remains in one: leavings only, much less than a corpse. Something flickered in your nervous system that was a bit like an emotion, but it struggled and died, much to your relief.

Oh Harrow. PLEASE allow yourself to feel things.

“You could resurrect them,” you said, without bothering to filter much between thought and speech. “You alone are capable of it. But you won’t. Why?” “For the same reason that I haven’t for ten thousand years,” he said. “For the same reason that I cannot come back to the Nine Houses. The cost is too great.���

...

An Emperor-God with MORALS? Could it be?

Sounds fake. I reserve my judgement.

[ambitiouspotions]

ABOVE | FRED WEASLEY | ONESHOT

summary - fred weasley watches over you after his death

word count — 1.5k

warnings — an angsty mess

author’s note — i wrote this when i ate a gummy don’t judge me

fred gideon weasley’s out-of-body experience began after an unusual conversation in purgatory. he begged the spectral desk clerk to send him back to earth to see you. though the desk clerk was unable to reverse his untimely death, they allowed him to roam the earth unnoticed. he was a teacher. he stared as his entire ginger-headed family gathered around him in the great hall to mourn him. they all put their head against his chest and took turns crying. all within a matter of minutes they would go from crying to screaming, but when you saw him, it hurt.

he had promised that he would be okay, but now even his spirit had a guilty conscience. he could still remember the last kiss you shared before you were split apart in the battle. now he was watching you mourn, disbelief riddling your face.

fred tried to compensate you for the exasperated scream you let out the moment you saw him lying lifeless on the table. he wrapped you in a tight hug, but you didn’t react by falling into his arms like you normally did. you went through his chest and landed on the soulless body on the table. maybe that was the reason you cried - because you didn’t feel his soul present in his body. he stayed sitting with you until they were forced to move his body so his family could have a proper burial.

the days leading up to the funeral he was distant. just outside of his old apartment, watching into the window as you fixated on the street lamps on diagon alley. though he was there when his body was laid in the grave on a rainy day. your tears were easily concealed because the rain kept hitting your face. he tried to wipe your tears with his thumbs, but they kept falling. he watched you hold his mother, who was falling apart, as they lowered his mortal body into the open earth.

his life should’ve been celebrated with a fireworks display and an annoying marching band that blocked the streets for hours, but instead, he was watching black-robed wizards and witches shed more tears and agony now that he was truly gone. he didn't have the funeral he would've wanted because he expected to live forever. he had the armor of innocence and youth on his side, but his confidence soared too high. death stopped for no one, even for those who caused endless smiles and fits of laughter.

the day you went back to his apartment he came inside. george was not doing well. you weren’t crying anymore, but your face had enough pain contouring your normal features. well, you weren’t crying in front of anyone else. the moment you closed the door to his bedroom you collapsed into his unmade bed. you tried to take in his scent, but it wasn’t close enough to the real experience of being bundled into his chest for comfort. you were begging to hear “get on your side,” but it never came. you wanted him to complain one more time about hogging the quilt, but the room was silent aside from your sniffling.

fred tried to comfort you, but it went unnoticed. he was rubbing your back and running his fingers through your hair. he wanted you to know he was okay, but you didn’t feel him. he watched you cry for hours until you were finally asleep. the worst part of this purgatory was not being able to comfort you when you needed it most. he wanted to watch you grow past his death, but that was not going to happen in a few days. he knew he would have to stomach the pain and grief he was causing you and continue to watch over you.

a month later, you sat on the sofa at the burrow, remembering the summers you spent with him. the day molly found you laid across each other, sunburnt to hell, after spending hours at the lake and ignoring her cry for you both to wear sun cream. the time you sat with him, trying to act inconspicuous after you had spent the entire night roaming the fields with him for a romantic time that wouldn’t be interrupted.

you spent hours looking through molly’s photo albums for a sense of peace, but it only made your mind pained again. fred’s eyes kept returning to the photo of him dancing with you at bill and fleur’s wedding. the quick motion of the photo showed how happy he was in the moment. it was something so miniscule, but so satisfying. he could feel love radiation from the picture even though he was not on the same plane of existence any longer. your head was hidden in his shoulder as you saw the photographer coming. he could still hear his laugh as he tried to spin you to look at the camera. your face was so flushed, and your hands were gripping his suit tightly to stay close.

the christmas holidays still went on without him, but molly’s normal knitted gift was left upon his gravestone. he didn’t want you to spend christmas at his grave, but you did. you talked out loud for ages. you popped a tube of confetti as you announced your new job. he was hoping you’d continue to move on. it started with less crying, and then applying yourself more. you just needed a win. you deserved a new job, a new start.

he still lay with you every night. he couldn’t bear to let you sleep alone because he knew that was when your mind wandered the most. he saw you downing various supplements to get a deeper sleep, but he still saw you wake with a racing heart and panic because you had to relive your worst nightmare; seeing his dead body again.

as time passed you would randomly stop in the hallway and look straight at him. at times he thought you could see him, but he knew it wasn’t the case when you wouldn’t rush to him. you would swallow and take a deep breath to contain yourself. he didn’t know what weird sensation came over you, but he hoped that whenever it happened it was making it easier for you.

the days seemed to fade together as fred watched you, but that was because you had the same routine. you had the same routine so your mind wouldn’t wander away. you had to keep your composure at work and when you visited his family.

he was happy for you the day you agreed to get dinner with your coworkers. you diverted from your schedule to spend time with someone other than a weasley. he enjoyed seeing you dressed up for the high-end restaurant. he enjoyed seeing you give a genuine smile, one where your cheeks reddened and your eyes slightly squinted.

you were doing so much better. you weren’t so hard on yourself. you appreciated the little things. you petted the stray cat on the street that always seemed to get under your feet when you were in a hurry. until the anniversary of fred’s death.

you visited his grave very early in the morning so you wouldn’t be disturbed by anyone else and were sadly mistaken in thinking that things had gotten any better. you cursed your life and wished fred was in your place because he was so much stronger. he put a hand on your shoulder as your hands rested flat on the ground in the center of his burial plot. your hands dug into the earth that was below your fingertips, not caring that the dirt was lining the innards of your fingernails. you just wanted him back.

he saw you go backward and forwards. grief, guilt, anger, to nothing at all. dear merlin. nothing was the worst to witness because even with the anger he could see the scared person you were hiding under your skin. nothing was dull and lifeless. his spirit had more life than your version of nothing. he would sit with you, begging you to get up, but you never did. you never got up until you were ready.

on the days you finally pulled yourself together he would celebrate. his smile never fades on those days. he was with you every step.

“that’s my girl.” he’d say as you exited the apartment. you couldn’t hear him, but it made him feel better when he said it.

he didn’t follow you forever, only on those days that seemed to drag, and the restless nights. he knew you would eventually wake one morning and not think of him immediately. he waited for that day, longing for the moment he could trust that you were going to be okay on your own. though all along you were doing it alone. it was years before fred only admired you from above. though the solace of knowing he could return to your side if you needed him was comforting.

eventually the need to return to your side faded because you moved forward. someone else was by your side, and the moment you missed fred your new suitor was next to you at his gravestone. you didn’t need a paranormal hand to rub your back anymore. you didn’t need a ghostly body to lay with at night, and fred could see it. you may not always be okay, but you were okay enough not to need his spirit any longer.

[kairos-polaris]

a small study on how John could have asked Kiriona to be his cavalier

it's also on ao3

---

He brings it up casually, on one of the many occasions he invited you to have tea with him (he said it’s important to spend time with your children, that he is making up for the years he didn’t know about you). John Gaius says: "What do you think about being my cav? Wouldn't it be neat for you, my kid, my heir, to be my sword?" He looks at you and smiles at you kindly, the way you always imagined your mother smiling at you as you told her all about your life on the Ninth.

It is a sudden and unexpected question that makes you want to make stupid jokes. "One flesh, one end," your foolish mouth wants to say but you choke down on the words. You think about her and the time you swore yourself to her. You think of giving her your flesh, your end and your life. So, there is no need to mention the oath God wouldn’t care for anyway, not like you have anything else to give. Everything you have is owed to him anyway.

To be his cavalier, huh. You try not to think of his previous cav, no, you remind yourself, his current one. If he is offering he must not want her anymore, right?

Your dad takes your silence as a refusal so he smiles in that awkward manner unbefitting for God, his now familiar attempts in pretending he is just a guy. He takes your hand and squeezes it gently. He says: "Of course I understand if you would rather not. I know how much Harrow means to you and how devoted you are to her. I do not mean to try to take her place in your heart."

Except he is, you think absently, God wants you to turn to him and to love him the most because he is a selfish man who has lost everyone who has ever loved him (his own fault, really an incessant voice buzzes in your head). What does he even know about the depth of your devotion to her?

Take her place.

God, your Resurrector, turned your body into a perfect construct, the final expression of the art of the Nine Houses; you are dead and you don't need to breathe nor can you cry. And the sole mention of her is enough to cause you to choke and your eyes to burn with tears they cannot shed.

"No! I would like that," you say and try to smile but the muscles in your face refuse to obey you. Your body is a construct that does not belong to you. "It would be neat," you reassure him and yourself, "to be your sword. An honour."

Your dad beams at you and holds his arms open. He is giving you a choice, he thinks, whether to accept his touch or not. But there is only one option for you. He will accept your rejection yet the sadness on his face will cause an all-devouring pit to open in your chest, a desperate need to apologise and take back your words. A need to please, to be good to your father, your God. And to avoid that feeling you are willing to accept his touch, to endure it, and to choke on the revulsion (he is your father and you love him as you know how to but he caused her pain and that you can't forgive. He was the one to say forgiveness does not exist, so maybe you can love and hate him all the same.)

And so you hug him (more like collapse into his arms and let him hold you for as long as he pleases; a pliant doll with limbs to arrange and position to his liking). It gets easier to bear with time. It's not like you don't want to be touched or hate being hugged. No, you hunger for it, crave it like a starved man craves food, dream of it like a man in a desert dreams of water. You want to be touched, even by Ianthe. It's just that there is a voice in your head that is more Gideon Nav, an indentured serf of the Ninth, than Kiriona Gaia, Her Divine Highness, the first of the Tower Princes. And that voice reminds you over and over of that night and all his lies revealed. You get better at silencing it the more time you spend with your God, your Resurrector, your father. You get better at fitting yourself into his arms. You wrap your hands around him tightly and rest your head on his shoulder.

"I would love to be your cavalier, if you'll have me," you repeat it just to hear yourself say it. You don't have to look to know he is smiling and a part of you, a treacherous, childish part of you, is happy he is pleased.

"It would be my honour," he says softly, casually and all you can do is lean into him further. "I love you," he says and all you can do is wish you could cry.

Later, he pulls away and tells you of what you will have to accomplish to become his cavalier. Open the Tomb, awaken Her and kill Her. “With your blood, you will succeed. You and only you can do it,” he says, his hand still on yours.

“You won’t be God if She dies,” you blurt out without thinking and cringe at yourself. He just laughs softly.

“I have been God for over a myriad, I am ready to become a man once again. And I don’t mind becoming mortal for you. Not God, just your father,” John says. “And your necromancer, but that’s not as important,” he adds a second later.

You feel dizzy and lightheaded. This is what you want, isn’t it? To be accepted by your father? To be chosen by someone, anyone? Your father is offering all of that and all you have to do is kill Her. Not like you haven’t thought of it already. He says, you can do it and you must believe him.

“I thought you loved her,” your foolish mouth says anyway and God sighs before you can take back your words.

“I loved her once, my Annabel Lee, but you are my daughter,” he says as if it explains anything. As if it means anything. “It is time for me to step down from the divinity she gave me and only you can make it happen. Make it quick, but kill her.”

He gently cradles your face and smiles at you. “I love you, Kiriona,” he says and, in his infinite patience, does not begrudge you when you don’t say it back.

[berrymoos]

🥭 ⏜ more regressor elle greenaway hcs!

➥ first batch here !! ⼃ tagging for team as family / team as caregivers , drunken regression [implied] , && padded agere

... if i had a nickel for every time i wrote something for elle instead of doing an essay due in 24 hours, i'd have 2 nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice, right? /ref. ; she's on the mind like crazy i am so ellebrained it's not even funny anymore. not a single day goes by where i don't think abt her she's just. AUGHHAHDJSHDJSH I'M CWAZY BOUT HER !!!!

🥭 ⼃ sudden touches r a big big no-no !! doesn't matter if it's a tap to the shoulder or a surprise hug from behind, they're an unpleasant reminder of the fisher king & a surefire way to send her into fight or flight mode. tickle fights are the biggest no-no (and unfortunately derek has learned this the hard way). even then, she goes through these "phases" in which she either wants nothing more than to cuddle or she's completely & utterly touch-adverse. the team checks in on her status by tapping her hand : pleasant reaction, touch is okay, unpleasant reaction, touch is not okay

🥭 ⼃ lots of tantrums because she has a terrible habit of keeping her emotions under wraps when she's big ; baby ellie doesn't have the strength for it, so it all boils over at the simplest of things, much to her dismay. she'll lash out over spilled apple juice or over a lost crayon, all because she didn't decompress after a rough week at work. her tantrums are destructive, like a hurricane tearing through anything in its path : hitting when she feels cornered, screaming, eventually retreating like a frightened animal. in times like these, gideon & jj are best at settling her

🥭 ⼃ her disdain for the phone increases tenfold when she's little ; she'll put it on silent, hide it under her pillow, & completely forget about it unless she absolutely needs it (ex, spence is shopping & she wants a snack). if one goes off around her she will whine & pout & huff until it's dealt with. much prefers hands-on activities like doodling & playing outside—if screen time is something she falls into, it'll be whatever is on tv. she always flocks back to old shows of her childhood, but occasionally she'll branch out to newer things if the synopsis is interesting enough.

🥭 ⼃ she'd rather die than admit anything relating to her headspace while big—literally includes trivial stuff like the kind of snacks she eats or movies she's seen. vague answers like “i don't know, i watch whatever's on” n “food is food, man, i'm not picky” . the team has to do full-on case studies when she's little just to find out anything (　-̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥᷄◞ω◟-̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥᷅ )

🥭 ⼃ spencer's ramblings continue to be music to her ears ; she takes in everything he says with the biggest brown eyes in existence, blinking at him eagerly as he chatters on and on about the history of ... well, who really knows! she certainly doesn't, but it doesn't matter to her in the slightest. the only way to get her down for a nap is if spencer is talking to her—get him to read a book & she'll be out before he gets through the first page.

🥭 ⼃ code white is the team's code for "elle is regressed on the field & we need to get her out of here." it's a conflicting situation for her ; she appreciates how they're not judging an involuntary reaction, appreciates how they care enough to take action, but she wishes they didn't have to. it's bad enough the fisher king lingers in her mind, but now she has to deal with her brain getting mushy & weird as a result at work? kick her while she's down, why don't you (-、-)

🥭 ⼃ definitely regressed in the hotel room with spencer. she isn't sure if it was reliving the memory as she confides in spencer, the alcohol lowering her walls, or both, but it doesn't take too much poking & prodding for her to collapse into his arms, sniffling, crying over any and everything under the sun. she's not much of a crier—spencer knows—but it's very hard to get her to stop once the tears begin. in the very least, elle didn't fall asleep alone that night

🥭 ⼃ during the four months of recovery leave, elle's nightmares struck with a vengeance. of course, she's had them before—when her dad first died & after cases that really struck a nerve within her—but it's the first time she's ever gotten so close to death. yes, she's been shot at ; yes, she's been hurt on the job ; but never has she been violated in such a manner in the comfort of her own home. never has she been in a hospital bed, fighting for her life while their unsub is still roaming free. many nights, she awoke screaming, crying uncontrollably in the darkness of her own room, huddled in bed, unable to move because the shadows are too big and too scary and she's only little and– uh-oh. a humiliating puddle soaking into her bedsheets. the idea of ... protection is one she absolutely despised at first, but she realized washing bedsheets most of every night isn't very efficient. she only wears them at night ; humiliation keeps her from going any farther

🥭 ⼃ ... when she's too little to truly recognize or deeply comprehend much of anything, the padding is more of an embrace rather than a chain

🥭 ⼃ she literally does not allow anybody to change her, either. as much as she loves spencer, jj, gideon, derek ... it's too intimate for her. it crosses boundaries she can't bend or twist for anybody else. she'd rather struggle with the straps all by herself, frustrated tears pricking her eyes, than have somebody see her at her most vulnerable

🥭 ⼃ big hoodies to conceal the padding !! elle has tons of hoodies of her own, but she likes stealing borrowing derek's cus they're suuuper–duper big & suuuuper–duper comfy !!

🥭 ⼃ on that note, she kinda hates pants while tiny ?? she'd much rather go without them because it's a lot more freeing in her mind, which is why she loves big, baggy hoodies, shirts, & things of similar likeness

🥭 ⼃ penny & morgan spoil her rotten, but penny is the worse of the two. while derek will indulge her desires from time to time, penelope is physically unable to say no to such a cutiepie like elle no matter how many times derek has taught her how to stand her ground !! elle will run to her if she gets in trouble by hotch or if derek is being silly with her ; she knows penny is gonna stick up for her no matter what !!

🥭 ⼃ petunia (her stuffed lamb) & mr brownie (jj's stuffed teddy bear) are confirmed best friends. they attend every single sleepover elle & jj have, every single playdate known to man ... inseparable bestie 4eva !! (until petunia has to get washed cus elle played too rough in the mud n got her all dirty ... but that's another issue for another day!)

🥭 ⼃ very blunt no matter the headspace. she will tell it like it is, well–meaning or not. it often gets her a mildly chastising glance from hotch, but many more giggles from the rest of her friends. (“tha’s mean, ellie!” jj will whisper, nudging her side. “’m not lyin’ ; he’s a big dummy!” elle will huff back, unbothered as she continues to play with her toys.)

[azsazz]

Strips and Sutures

Daddy!Cassian x Reader

Summary: Cassian helps stitch up his daughters doll.

Warnings: None, fluff!

Word Count: 1,208

_________________________________________

“Daddy! Daddy!” The screams for him are ones he hopes he never has to familiarize himself with. Choked cries for help through shaky breaths on lungs too little to sound so loud.

Cassian’s heart screeches to a halt in his chest. His fingers clench around the utensils he’s using to swipe jam onto a slice of bread for his daughter’s lunch. The blunt butterknife isn’t his first choice of a weapon but he could make it work, has made less work. He knows there’s no intruder in his home, you had taken Gideon and Castor to school today and were running some errands in town, leaving Cassian and your youngest daughter, Sif, to some time alone.

The metal clangs loudly against the countertop as he darts from his station, the snack splattering on the stone with a squelch by the time he’s through the doorway, on his way to find his daughter. He can hear her little feet pattering his way and he slows his pace so he doesn’t go barreling into her.

He’d only left her alone for hardly a minute, how could something have gone so wrong already?

“Sif?” He calls out, halting with warrior-like quickness as his daughter rounds the corner, stumbling right into his legs. She buries her face into his shin, wrapping her arms around his calf with surprising strength for a four-year-old.

She has fat tears rolling down her ruddy cheeks and it takes some effort to pluck her from his pants to cradle her in his arms, the doll she’s clasping to sweeping up with her. A quick scan proves nothing wrong; no cuts or bruises to be seen, and Cassian brushes away her unruly hair sticking to her cheeks.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you hurt?” He asks because he doesn’t know what else to do. She’s full on sobbing now, hugging the doll tightly to her chest like a lifeline. The sight makes his heart ache, he’ll do anything to see her happy.

He’s a split second away from calling out to Rhys or alerting you through the bond because of the absolute pain rushing through his veins. Cassian’s become accustomed to the accidents and cries of his children, but it never gets easier.

“No,” Sif sniffles, blinking the tears from her big, beautiful hazel eyes. She holds up her doll but it’s much too close to his face to be able to see what she’s pointing out. “But Ms. Genavieve is!”

Cassian leans away, uncrossing his eyes to see the slight tear in the little doll, right where her arm and body meet. He lets loose a breath, shoulders melting in relief because Sif is perfectly in one piece, even if her toy isn’t.

“My poor baby,” Cassian coos, brushing her hot cheeks, wet with tears, once more. He rocks her against his chest, soothing the upset babe in his arms, pressing kisses to her forehead. “Daddy can fix her, don’t you worry.”

Tears line her eyes as she looks from the doll to him, and Cassian wants to cry at the way her little lip juts out in a pout, wobbling as she questions him. “You can?”

“Of course, pretty girl,” he soothes, “Let’s find mommy’s sewing kit and then I’ll finish your lunch. You can eat while I sew up Ms. Genavieve.”

“Okay,” she nods, fingering the threads hanging loose from her doll.

Cassian carries her throughout the house, beelining for the closet he knows you keep all of the miscellaneous supplies within the home. Sewing kit, medical box, art supplies, and games line the shelves, overwhelming in itself. 

He lets loose a sigh, beginning his search.

“Come on mommy, come on mommy,” he mutters, scanning the shelves, shoving things out of the way. “Where is it? Ah-ha!”

Sif giggles at his excitement, pulling the kit from the shelf. Cassian kicks the door shut, cringing when he hears something clatter to the ground on the other side.

He’ll blame it on Gideon when he gets home.

They make their way back to the kitchen where Cassian sets Sif in her seat, pulling it up to the counter. He rounds the counter, grimacing at the half of the sandwich that landed face down on the counter. Sif giggles, still holding her doll tightly to her chest as Cassian shrugs, folding the bread in half and stuffing it in his mouth as he reaches for a fresh slice for his daughter.

“Can’t let that go to waste now, right Siffy?” he mumbles through the mouthful.

She wrinkles her nose in response, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, daddy.”

Yep. Definitely her mother’s daughter.

He makes quick work of making her sandwich, humming and making silly faces to keep her happy while he does so. Sliding the plate across the counter to her makes Sif giggle and his heart soar. He fills a cup with milk for her to sip on and clears his station before setting it all up for Ms. Genavieve’s procedure.

Cassian matches the strand to the color of the fabric, and threads the needle and sets the doll before him, all of the supplies he needs are ready by the kit should he need them.

He takes a deep breath, glancing up to his daughter who has her sandwich occupying both hands, a tiny bite taken from the middle of it. Sif chews while she watches intensely, waiting for him to make his first move and it makes him more nervous than it should. He doesn’t want to disappoint his little girl.

Cassian stares at the tear. It’s not big by any means, and Mother be damned if he’s going to wait for you to get home or ask one of the wraiths to help him. He’s sewed up injuries plenty of times, when he’d been on missions or in wars and needed to quickly close a wound so he wouldn’t bleed out before getting to a healer. He’d even patched up Az once, back when they were teens and the shadowsinger was much too nervous to go to the medical tent because of the pretty girl that he couldn’t seem to stay away from. 

The shadowsinger wouldn’t let him near with a needle since. 

“Right,” he mutters, lowering the needle, “Nice and easy now.”

The first stitch is the worst, but Sif doesn’t make any noises to tell him he’s doing it wrong so he keeps going, keeping focused on the task at hand. He makes the suture as straight as possible, taking his time to align them perfectly, not skipping over any areas and pulling the thread tight before tying it off with perfection. 

“Well, little Miss Sif, I think Ms. Genavieve is very happy to once again have her arm at full capacity,” Cassian boasts, holding up her doll like a trophy. Sif cheers from her seat, making grabby hands for the toy and he hands it over before realizing with a start that she’s probably a mess from her lunch.

Indeed, she smiles, hugging the doll tightly to her chest and rubbing her jam-smeared face against the cloth toy. He cringes, sighing as he packs away the sewing kit.

“I suppose we should get Ms. Genavieve in the bath now, right, Siffy?”

[spencer-todd]

Keeping up with the Waynes, Christmas special, part 2

(Resolution to the slight angst last part, happy ending!)

(Christmas morning, Wayne Manor)

Damian: NO!

Tim: YES!

Damian: CLEARLY, IT SAYS "DAMIAN" ON THE TAG!

Tim: CLEARLY, IT SAYS "DRAKE"!

Alfred, taking the present: Clearly, young sirs, it says "Duke". I believe master Dick is to blame for this atrocious handwriting.

Dick: Hey! My handwriting isn't that bad!

Steph: Except that it is, and nobody knows whose gift is who's because of it.

Dick: Et tu?

Steph: Something in that sentence was wrong.

Cass, walking over to Bruce: Dad. Gift.

Bruce, taking the present: Aww, Cassie.

*Bruce opens it to find a handmade navy blue scarf with his initials sewn into the corner*

Bruce, tearing up: Did you make this for me?

Cass: *nods*

Bruce: *hugs her while crying*

*Crash*

Bruce: Dick! Be nice to Jason!

Dick: NOOOO! You can't make me!

Bruce: Alfred can.

Dick, sitting down: Touché.

Jason: It's his fault. Milk chocolate is not better than dark chocolate. It's not a hill you need to die on.

Dick: How terribly dull for you to live your life without any hills to die on.

Jason: I have plenty of hills I'd die on.

Dick, raising his voice and standing on a couch arm like a stereotypical orator: You! on your vast, flat, barren plains of compromise, acceptance, and accommodation-

Jason: WHO'S COMPROMISING??!!

Dick, even louder: BARREN PLAINS! BARREN, WHILE I REIGN SUPREME OVER THE LUSH, ROLLING HIGHLANDS OF INCREDIBLE OPINIONS I HAVE ELECTED TO STAKE MY ENTIRE IDENTITY ON!

Jason: *Starts running at Dick*

Dick, quickly, as Jason tackles him off the couch: THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH ALL THE FUCKS I GIVE ON SELECT TOPICS!

*More Crashes*

Bruce: Ok, let's continue with the presents!

Damian, unwrapping a present from Selina: A bell?

Selina: Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.

Damian: Oh, I am aware. I've created a robot that rings 40 bells 80 times per hour.

Duke: Oh, no.

Damian: I've been running it nonstop for three years.

Bruce: Tired Dad Sigh (TM)

Damian: Soon, all of the angels will have wings.

Tim: Oh, god.

Damian: Heaven's hierarchy is in shambles.

Duke: No

Damian: The chorus weeps

Bruce: Please stop.

Damian: God knows I'm coming for his throne.

Me: OK! That's enough. August! You haven't opened anything.

August: Oh, sorry! I was reading this news article.

Bruce, hopeful that one of his children is normal: Oh? What is it?

August: "Spiders blamed after broken siren played creepy nursery rhymes randomly at night to UK townsfolk."

*Bruce visibly loses all hope*

Steph: Could any word in that headline get any more terrifying?

Me: Probably. Multi-legged horror hamsters, anyone?

Damian: *raises hand*

Bruce: *Lowers it*

*All the gifts were opened, food had eaten, and Christmas movies put on the TV as the family gathers to watch in the living room. Jason notices Spencer's absence and goes to their bedroom, finding her sitting on the floor. He closes the door and leans on the frame*

Spencer, facing the fireplace: Jay, I- we need to talk.

Jason: I figured. You never leave Christmas movie night.

Spencer: Two months ago, I was on a mission in Rome. While on that mission, I was stabbed, as you know, and I was severely injured.

Jason: I remember.

Spencer: What I haven't told you is that I found out later that I was pregnant. The wound cost me the baby and any chance of having more. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before. I just didn't know how.

*Jason walks over to Spencer, and sits down behind her, pulling her into his arms in a back hug.*

Spencer, sighing: How long have you known?

Jason: Gideon sent me the file last night.

Spencer: You must be furious.

Jason: No. I understand. I do wish you had told me before, but I understand why you didn't.

Spencer, scoffing quietly: You do?

Jason, pulling her closer: You were scared. You knew that it would hurt, and you didn't want to imagine what might happen. You knew you could trust me, but could you trust me? Would I be comforting or would I lash out in anger and drive a wedge between us? You told yourself "That's silly! Of course he won't be angry at me!" But, what if I was? Would you be ok? Would we be ok? Emotions are so hard. Why can't everything just go back to normal?

Spencer: Every single one of those thoughts have been on replay in my head for the past two months nonstop, in that exact order.

Jason: I know. But you don't need to be scared. It hurts, but it's going to be ok. You can trust me with your whole life and all of your secrets. I promise you I will never lash out at you. I will always be here to comfort you. I'm not angry at you. You're going to be ok. We're going to be ok. Emotions are hard, but you're stronger than the hardships you face. It's ok if nothing is normal. I'm here for you. I love you.

Spencer: I love you, too. *kisses Jason* I think we'll make it in time for the second movie.

Jason: Wonderful plan, love.

(@august0bone)

[lkfarrout]

What Happened Last Summer (18+) Chapter 9

Pretty proud of this one, idk

Start at Chapter 1 here and read Chapter 10 next

“Well Stan, I’ll admit I was wrong. This old tent should fit us all comfortably.” Ford and the kids took a few steps back to admire their work. 

Stan glanced up to see the newly erected canvas structure, and the sun getting low in the sky behind it. “Told ya so,” he said, before returning to the pile of wood and kindling in front of him. Kathy added the last camping chair to the circle around it.

“Grunkle Stan, is it almost time?” Mabel was practically bouncing up and down.

“Just one more thing.” Stan headed for the trunk of the car and grabbed two items. “Dip, you wanna do the honors?” He held one of them out to Dipper - a propane torch with a long neck, the one Soos often used to burn weeds outside the shack.

“No fair! I want to help!” Mabel complained. In response, Stan gave her the other item, a bottle of lighter fluid. “Cool!” She poured it onto the wood with a grin.

Dipper took the torch excitedly and approached the fire pit. “Stand back!” With a soft woosh, the flames ascended into the pink sky. Kathy was surprised at how much Stan and Ford trusted these children with such tools, but they did seem resourceful for thirteen-year-olds. 

“Sit down everyone,” Stan patted the canvas chair next to him, “Kathy, we have a story to tell you.”

Mabel dragged a duffel bag across the ground until it sat between her and Dipper’s chairs. Once unzipped, it revealed several books, some sock puppets, and strangely enough, a grappling hook. Expecting a cute story from Mabel’s imagination, Kathy smiled in anticipation and looked at Stan. His expression was gravely serious.

Dipper stood and took a deep breath, holding a thick stack of index cards. “Kathy, this is the story of what happened last summer. It’s a story about all of us, but mostly about Grunkle Stan - the man that saved the entire world.” He paused and looked at Kathy, waiting for her reaction.

Kathy laughed, “Is this a true story?” She looked around, expecting anything other than the solemn faces that peered back. 

Stan grabbed her hand and squeezed it, “I swear on my life, sweetheart.”

Ford cleared his throat, “Kathy, do you believe in the supernatural?”

She nodded hesitantly, and looked back to Dipper.

“See when we first came to Gravity Falls, it was just Grunkle Stan - we didn’t even know Great Uncle Ford existed…” The story continued and the sky became darker. Dipper did most of the talking, with several pauses for visual demonstrations from Mabel and occasional clarifications and flashback sequences from Stan and Ford. A few times the fire had to be rekindled, and blankets and snacks fetched from the tent. It seemed that everyone learned something new that night…

… “Ya filled my house with clones, kid? Some observant grunkle I am.” 

… “So Grunkle Stan, you did have money to get a hotel when Gideon took the shack, you just had to find an excuse to send us home so you could sneak back to the portal? I knew it!”

… “Wait, Dipper, you were cognizant while Bill was in your body? I always seemed to black out and forget what happened. Incredible.”

By the time midnight rolled around, Kathy had been handed several journals and had learned more about Stan’s life than she had after over a dozen dates with him. 

“Need a break, sweety?”

“No Stan, it’s okay. What happened, were you able to secure the rift?”

Mabel chimed in, “Not exactly…”

The hours continued to creep by, and as the sun rose over the campsite, the fire was still burning, and Kathy’s eyes were filled with tears. It seemed that everyone else was crying, too. The final speech was given by Stanford, who, through crooked glasses and a choked up voice, thanked his brother once again for everything and recounted a few highlights from their sailing adventures. He pulled Stanley into a hug, along with the kids. After a moment, Ford dismissed the exhausted Dipper and Mabel to the tent, and approached Kathy. “I know you have questions, but we can deal with that later. You two should take a walk.” And he headed for the tent himself. 

Kathy and Stan found themselves in the car. Neither of them were too sure what to say. She placed a hand on his cheek and his hand followed to rest over hers. 

“Stanley, you’re shaking.”

“I’m just tired, doll.” He let his face relax into her touch. “You alright, after all that?”

“It was a lot to take in, but I’m so glad you told me. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.” She gently kissed him on the forehead and he gave a weak smile in response. She asked, “Could I see it?”

“See what?”

“The burn.”

“Oh,” Stan started working on the buttons of his shirt, “yeah, of course.” She helped him pull one arm out and get it around his back in the tight quarters of the car. Next came the white undershirt, which he pulled off as he turned to face the driver’s side window so she could see his back.

She gently traced the bluish-purple patterns of scar tissue with her fingertips. “Does it hurt?”

“Nah, not for a long time. First few weeks hurt like hell, though.”

“I bet.” 

Stan chuckled, “It gets to itchin’ pretty bad sometimes.”

“Yeah? I can help with that.”

Stan let out a soft groan as Kathy started to scratch his back. His torso relaxed and he let the side of his head rest against the seat of the car. He lifted his head again a few minutes later when she yawned.

“C’mon, we’re both tired.” Stan pulled his undershirt back on. “Let’s go to the tent.”

[diabeticasshat]

SCOTT PILGRIM WRITING AU RAMBLE BECAUSE I DONT HAVE ART READY TO UPLOAD YET ( ARCHIVES MIGHT BE! )

✦ㅤ

Gideon sipped a cup of ice tea, it was a party he was invited to but has no idea who invited him. “ You’re not from around here, your eyes have seen things. '' An albino woman passed him by, her fingertips entrailed onto Gideon’s chin which made Gideon shiver to the core. He held to his cup uncomfortably, but he already felt attached to this woman, who is she? Had she met him before, his thoughts were overwhelming his brain.

It wasn’t long before he snapped out of it as Ramona tugged his arm and made him sit close to the floor, as if he was being tugged like a chain close to his neck. Maybe this is what he needed, his thoughts clouded his brain again.

Weeks passes by, Gideon starts to feel infuriated in the relationship as Ramona settles on her plans while not prioritizing him in the slightest. She would call him in the slightest of chores and sometimes would hug him in his sleep, but even that was so dreadful, he was like a plant that needed water but even that wasn’t a main necessity.

He started to cry which made Ramona coo at him for once, he was like a child that needed nurturing and his childhood best friend was slashing his face. “ What’s the matter? I had to stop writing record labels. “ Gideon limped himself to the floor, looking at Ramona with tethered eyes. The public couldn’t give him thousands of stares, but lay down embarrassment as his glasses fogged thinking of a chance to scream, to scream her name even beg for it.

All he let out was a downward look before Ramona up tightly used her hand and raised Gideon’s chin, “ Time is passing, by the time you’re done I’ve already finished 50 shades of gray, you need to stand up. “ A crowd started to blabber about what he was doing was straight up shameful which pulled Ramona to grab Gideon and they both rushfully ran towards the stairs and up to the corridor up the building.

“ You know, you could’ve spoked about it to me right? You have a mouth, use it. “

“ You don’t understand!- “

“ I DON’T? You don't understand how much I spend so much time getting into record labels just to give you what you want! “

“ I suggest behaving, and drink the pain away! Maybe then I could give you a treat. “

Gideon’s eyes went numb, as if someone was stopping him from speaking. He muttered a weak “ Yes Ramona, I’ll take your advice. “ Walked downstairs again as if he imprisoned himself, he was like a vessel and Ramona was the symbiote, it was a toxicity he couldn’t even escape from.

✦ㅤ

Ramona goes on a rampage while Gideon holds a bottle of whisky, in his point blank he shouted back, like a dog unfamiliarized with the world around him. They both shouted until their voice ran out, to the point Gideon was almost sober.

“ You only cared about me when it comes to MONEY! “

“ SO WHAT! MONEY GIVES HAPPINESS! “

“ Well, it is certainly ruining US both! “

“ I try to talk to you, you’re always toying around my shoulder and telling me ‘ We’re gonna be famous worldwide ‘, and only for you to perpetuate me to being a bassist and that’s all you want from me! ”

“ You’re of great importance, my dear, you have seen far lan- “

“ YOU’RE NOT MY DAD! “

Ramona obviously backed down from this, it’s like her eyes drooped as if she had one. She was a living beetle, as if she actually bitten him enough to the point his blisters were pointing out, making him act out.

“ Not all of us HAVE good dads, Ramona. ”

“ Some of us have abusive ones, and some of us are even lucky we get out ALIVE. “

“ If you bite my hand again, I’m gonna kick you in the shins. “

“ Look, Gideon, I didn’t know you felt like that- “

“ Well, be more wary of what other people feel next time. “

Gideon left with a sigh, and also left a note for Ramona to read. It was covered with the words ‘ RAMONA ‘, she squinted at the sight of it. She didn’t feel a twinge of regret but her curiosity peaked. Her dull eyes looked while noticing there was a stain of blood hit the note he wrote, finally, worry sparked inside of her, was he doing self harm in their relationship?

Their relationship is indeed self harm in itself, Gideon couldn't coo himself to feel better. He felt like he was trapped inside of his bubble. As if he cant photosynthesize if he’s around. She was a venus flytrap to him.

[ilovelosersandshortmen]

Could you imagine if Toads S/O left for the X-Men like Lance did for that one episode? Maybe the Reader was just so sick of that run down house and they wanted some peace of mind away from the other members of the Brotherhood.

The Brotherhood of Mutants finding out their S/O is switching to the X-Men

Honestly, the Reader is so real for this. As much as I absolutely love Todd, I would not be able to live with a bunch of teenage boys 😭 And thank you for the request! I'm honestly having so much fun writing these. Anyways, I'll do it for all of the members of the brotherhood because I want to get better at writing them!

FRED (Blob):

(He's such a sweetie he deserves more attention)

• Actually heartbroken.

• He looks up at you with those sad puppy dog eyes.

• Blames himself for driving you away, just like he did with Jean. It's not his fault he's touch deprived and clingy!

• Tries to play it off, even if everyone can see him crying.

• Psh. Who cares? Not me. I don't care at all. Go where ever you want Ó⁠╭⁠╮⁠Ò

• Constantly makes you food without realizing that you're not there. Has been caught multiple times crying into sandwiches.

• (I can't handle all of this angst, I'm writing a happy ending where you come back I'm sorry)

• Literally jumps with joy like a happy puppy when he sees you again. Lots of bone crushing hugs and the like.

WANDA (Scarlet Witch):

• She really doesn't care. She totally gets it, she doesn't want to live with them either. So you two just stay in touch, even if you're not part of the brotherhood anymore.

• The other members get mad at her for "fraternizing with the enemy" but she couldn't care less.

• She does what she wants, who cares what anyone else thinks?

• Still, she does smile a bit more when you're back because she likes having you close.

LANCE (Avalanche) :

• Likes to pretend that he doesn't care, but he cuddles with a pillow at night and pretends it's you.

• Yes, there are many pictures taken of this that are saved for black mail. (thanks to Todd)

• Has to keep up a "cool guy" image, but he will not leave your side at school. To make up for lost time, you know?

• Always has his arms around your shoulders. He just gets more clingy when you're not around.

• When you come back, he sleeps more soundly. He just feels better when he knows you're safe.

• (And when he knows you're not around Scott)

• (No, he's not jealous, shut up.)

PIETRO (Quicksilver):

• Always sending you little gifts at the mansion, throwing rocks at your windows and ding dong ditching you.

• Out of love, of course.

• And to annoy all of the other X-Men.

• Super quick kisses in the morning before school, he leaves before anyone else even knows he's there.

• Honestly, he has a lot of fun with this. He likes the sneaking around and having a reason to mess with the X-Men.

TODD (Toad):

• I already mentioned something like this briefly before, so I won't go into much detail.

• But when you move into the mansion, so does he. There's no stopping him. He's in your bed before you are.

• Eats all of the food in the mansion like he's Gideon Graves.

• Yeah, he just can't handle being away from you every night.

• He excuses it by saying that his mutation makes him more cold, so you actually have to cuddle with him or he'll die.

• (Not true.)

• The X-Men try to be civil with him, but he's such a smug little shit that he's constantly getting on their nerves.

TABITHA (Boom Boom):

• (Is she considered part of the Brotherhood? Idc I'm adding her)

• As a former member of the X-Men, she does understand what you're going through.

• Doesn't mean she'll stop teasing you about it.

• Also doesn't mean that she won't sneak you out after curfew. (In Lances car, ofc)

• She just wants to make sure you don't become too much off a goody-two-shoes.

Again, as always, I hope this was up to your standards! Thank you for the request, have a wonderful day!

[anotherbluesunday]

✨Intertidal Update: Chapter 24 (Connie)✨

“I was scared!”

"Of what?! Of me?!" I wanted to cry. Screamed at her instead but all I wanted was to cry like some snotty nosed brat in their mum's bed. "I loved you! I gave up my world for you! You wanted me at home, so I was at home. You wanted me to give up big wave, so I took up teachin' at the shop instead. You told me to jump and I asked if it'd be into yer arms and each and every time I let you take a piece of me away because I fuckin' adored you Connie. You were scared for a moment while I've been scared for years! Do you have any idea how terrifying it was tryin' to move on from ya'?"

"We were children Benji."

"I was twenty-five and you were twenty-seven. That's hardly a child."

"But we were. We weren't ready. We may have wanted it in that moment but it would have self-destructed years down the line because we had no clue of what we were gettin' into."

I was stunned. Gobsmacked left with a voiceless bowled over smile as I scoffed out a laugh.

"I was ready. You may not 'ave been but I was."

Quivering with face flushed, my crossness broke like the sun coming through storm clouds as I was reminded again for the second time that this wasn't how I wanted it to end. We deserved better than this. Closing the gap between us that felt more like an ocean of time I traversed to reach her, I hugged Connie. Grumbled at her to stop being a brat when she tried fighting the way she always did when she was upset and in sore need of comforting but was too damn proud to say it.

Suspended in time just as I was when I read her text when she left me, I took in a deep breath. Let it settle in my lungs before I exhaled it right back out--long, cool, and calm.

"I'm not sayin' this to hurt ya'," I spoke at last when we had come down enough that the tension had nearly left us. "An' I want the best for you. Genuinely, I do Candy. But you don't love me."

.

.

.

[purplebass]

hi! what do you think the tid dads are like in vibes terms, like girl or boy dads?

Ignoring canon and the kids they have

Hi anon :)

I think the ones who give me girl dad vibes are Will, Jem and Henry. They would totally braid their daughter's hair (and be good at it even their wives would be shocked).

Will would dress up with her and play princesses but they would also be adventurous because he would also want his daughter to be free to do whatever she wants, even the activities that weren't considered fit for a girl at the time.

Jem would be more laid back and he would pretend to sip invisible tea from tiny teacups and he would be the best at dressing his daughter.

Henry would be patient with his daughter and read to her while his wife isn't home.

Gideon and Gabriel would be boy dads. They would teach them to be kind and would also tell them they are there to listen if they need a hug. That it's okay to cry if they need to, and it's okay if they aren't the best at archery or at throwing knifes.

[inardescere]

Rafayel sees the red creeping up on his ears and chuckles, a hand over his lips to muffle it to no avail. His eyes crinkle as he laughs, but immediately as their eyes meet, he's silent and waiting. Because Caleb was leaning closer, eyes on him, the world around them was a second thought when he got lost in his eyes. His partner. "A spoiled wife?" He raises a brow incredulously, a spark of his dramatics showing from behind the calmer face he had on before, pouting his lips at the accusation. "I'm not a wife." Rafayel closes his eyes briefly when he pecks the corner of his lips, the pout not erased from his mouth when he doesn't get what he wants. He is called husband, a mermaid prince, such fairytale nicknames. He is a far cry from a prince, grander than a king, but he likes that he gives him such silly little names in jest. Husband... oh, if only. "I thought I was a siren?" The Lemurian with many names smiles, teasing, and cups his cheek in return. "I will accept being spoiled as long as you let me spoil you in return. Although it's only natural that I depend on you," his voice lilts, that almost nonchalant yet seductive tone he uses when trying to get what he wants, ignoring completely Caleb's attempts to fluster him. "-when you care for me so well."

With the dip of his voice, he leans in and pulls his face down, kissing him sweetly on his lips.

The captain should not have left him wanting.

Ahem. Cough cough.

Thick lashes flutter as he opens his eyes, pulling away and putting some distance between him and his lover when the insistent clearing of his throat insists. Rafayel gives Gideon a glance, then lets Caleb take his hand and lead him in, no shame in his blood as his lips pull on a pleased smile, following them in with light steps. So they were just friends. The room which he's brought into is a bit damp, dim, as the only light source was the window where one could see dust flying in white particles as the sunlight shines in, boxes stacked above each other with scrawls of this continent's language. Some of the words looked familiar, and after looking about, he finally saw a few that had Caleb's name on them, able to recognize it from looking it up a while back. When Gideon brings down a box and holds the contents out for Rafayel, he accepts it and tilts his head towards Caleb in question, then at his friend. There is a look that is shared between them, but he decides to duck his head down to look through the pressed fabric lying neatly in his hands, the intricate embroidery a work of art in its own right. Even without pulling them apart, he could see there were multiple pieces to the clothes, a top and bottom, a corset, a few fluttering pieces, the box heavy in his hands with decorative embellishments.

When the man leaves, Rafayel leans back against him even before his arms are fully around him, this closeness starting to become second nature. "They're beautiful. Are you sure I should wear it? They're special, aren't they?" He questions, holding the clothes in his arms gently, eyes glancing down at the gold that he traces with a finger. Listening, he hums gently in reply to tell him he's there, tilting his head so he can share his warmth with him as he talks of his past. It was the first time he mentioned there was someone else, but he could understand why. A little girl, and to lose someone that meant so much to them both... He wonders if spending time together after her passing had been painful at times, always guilty about the life they couldn't save. I'm glad you're alive, he thinks. A deep ache permeates his body, eyes downcast as he reaches down to hold the hand on his waist, turning his head till his cheek pressed against his chest, the clothes hugged close to his own. You are my freedom. The Lemurian looks up, their eyes meeting as his glisten with incomprehensible emotion. As if pulled by an invisible force, Rafayel turns around to face him, cupping his cheek now and the clothes held between them, pulling him down to press their foreheads together, a touch of comfort amongst everything.

"And you are mine."

Rafayel peers up through his lashes, thumb caressing his cheek. "I know it seems like I'm the one bringing you back. But the truth is, you gave me the strength to brave the surface again." His gaze drops, a shuddering breath leaving his parted lips as he closes his eyes, their touching foreheads warm. "I... care deeply for my people. Lemuria is my home. But it was sometimes suffocating." When he was given a role too big for a child to handle, when he grew up and his mistake nearly cost the livelihood of everyone he was sworn to protect, and even now... "I felt trapped within those walls. They were a protection I needed as a child to keep me alive, but they are also a cage that tries to keep me from seeing beyond the small world that is under the depths. I've always found ways to escape, but after the last time..." He wasn't scared of humans themselves, but he was afraid that even the surface world would find a way to trap him. "Thank you." The hand on Caleb's face touched him gently, an added need for intimacy and touch to comfort them both, eyes gentle and lulling him with security. "I know you like to joke about the doctor, but let's go visit him soon. Let's meet him, and you can tell him you've found someone who will make you the happiest person in the world. Because I will do my very best to make sure of it."

A small smile is on his lips after a moment of silence, the hand cupping his face now pushing his hair behind his ear, pulling his attention back to him. "These are important clothes." No teasing, only sincerity from the depths of his heart is left when he asks. "Will you help me put them on?"

gideon nods his head slightly, opening the door to the building and stepping aside to hold it open. "is it a long way from—" he mutters, leaning casually against the doorframe as he waits for them to follow, but his words catch in his throat when he notices the lemurian tugging caleb back by the hand. he doesn't say a word, sharp eyes catching the motion, the gentle kiss and caleb's ears turning red by the tips for a fragment of seconds.

indeed caleb feels the blush creeping out on his ears as soon as rafayel kisses his cheek, however, his smirks deepens as he leans in. "yes. my partner." his voice is warm and teasing, meeting rafayel's eyes and forgetting about his surroundings, which means, forgetting gideon is literally waiting for them. tilting his head as if in thought, his grin turns more mischievous. "or should i have said... spoiled wife? you have definitely got the poise for it, don't you?" his hand brushes rafayel's briefly before stealing a daring peck on the corner of his lips. he seems completely absorbed in the moment, the rest of the world melting away as his gaze lingers on rafayel. "husband also has a nicer ring to it. oh! maybe my mermaid prince?" caleb muses softly, clearly wanting to mess with him to see if he could get him to blush even more. meanwhile, gideon is still in the doorway, watching the scene unfold. his expression incredibly flat as his arm begins to ache from holding the door open.

it's the first time gideon has seen caleb like this. he knew caleb was a shameless playful person, but this time seems a bit different, completely unaware of his surroundings. gideon shifts his weight, his patience wearing thin as he clears his throat loudly, but that seems to fail to break their little bubble, so he coughs again. his deadpan expression accentuated by a raised brow as his gaze flicks between the two with a dry sort of incredulity. "don't mind me. i'm just the guy holding the door. take your time." he sounds kind, though it's the kind of sarcasm he has picked up from caleb as a result of spending so much time with him. and well, it works as it's enough to burst their love bubble as caleb glances over his shoulder at his direction.

"sorry, gideon." his tone is anything but apologetic, the sly grin returning to his lips. "it's just that you've holding that door so well, i'm almost tempted to make you do it longer." straightening up, he reaches for rafayel's hand, lacing their fingers again and steps towards the door, clearly unbothered by gideon's masked exasperation. with a wink to rafayel and a playful smile, caleb chuckles under his breath, finally stepping through the doorway and getting inside the inn, leaving gideon to shake his head in disbelief. they go upstairs and stop in front of a door at the end of the hall. gideon's hand resting on the doorknob before pushing it open. the room is a bit dim, the air heavy with the scen of forgotten memories and cardboard, piles of packed boxes stacked neatly against the walls, all labeled in gideon's handwriting such as 'canned food', 'old gear', 'misc'. there's a certain heaviness to the atmosphere, a reminder of the life that was abruptly put on hold yet gideon leaves a sight of relief upon having the idiot in front of him. caleb remains on the doorframe with rafayel, staring at gideon as he scans the room before landing on three of the boxes labeled as 'caleb's clothes'. the boxes also have a different label each: casual wear, sleeveless shirts and corsets, and captain uniforms as caleb used to call them. gideon turns to rafayel, looking at him from head to toes before turning around and pulling the one that says 'captain outfits' down from the shelf. "this is probably the fanciest set of clothes caleb owes. always refused to wear it, always babbling about them being reserved only for important events, memorable moments." gideon says, handing the clothes to rafayel. "it will suit you." caleb looks at the outfit, a smile curling on his lips as he notices those were the ones he wore in special occasions, meaning they were reserved for very specific situations. he doesn't add anything, but gives gideon a glance of gratitude for not needing words to read the room.

gideon understands that rafayel is special to him.

"i'll be waiting for you two in the tavern. downstairs, to the left. caleb knows where is it." and without adding further, gideon exits the room and closes the door behind them, giving them privacy for a moment.

as caleb hears the door closing, he approaches rafayel slowly. "those are my favorite." he says softly, approaching rafayel as his arms find comfort in his waist, hugging him from behind. "when that woman adopted me, there was another child. we grew up together, along with the healer i told you about. the three of us escaped together, leaving everything behind and starting a new life. this was a gift from them when i was named captain. years passed and zayne noticed her health was deteriorating, something to do with her heart he said, and the reason he became a healer in the first place. she passed away very young, sadly and the both of us decided to not address it ever again. then, the healer left my crew, so these clothes became even more special to me. i stopped using them often, only for important moments because it was the token of my freedom." he pauses, holding rafayel tightly as he kisses softly behind his ear. "now i want you to have them, because you are my freedom."

[bensonsbobblehead]

Mistakes— Spencer Reid x Mom!reader

Summary: Spencer choosing to leave you when you were pregnant

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Mom!reader

Category: Angst & Fluff

Content Warnings: Pregnancy and abandonment

Word count: 1.9k

[masterlist]

Spencer is the love of your life, you both had a deep connection among no other. He had known you inside and out. Spencer was your everything and you were his. You were both in school in Vegas and both had fell in love fairly quickly. Moving in together and you were the best versions of each other.

“Hey baby, I’m home!” Spencer shouted as he walked into the apartment. You were in the bathroom face drenched with tears. You were pregnant, and according to the ultrasound very pregnant. With you both in school and Spencer getting a job you could raise a child, you thought. You also knew he was waiting to hear back from the FBI.

Spencer talked about being a dad in the future all the time. It made you happy knowing you were the one he wanted to raise his children.

You quickly wiped your face and stuffed the test and ultrasound back into your bag. You opened the door to see a very smiley Spencer “I have great news, I got into the BAU!” he said excitedly “Well I more so had an interesting conversation with a man named Jason Gideon but still.” He ran to you hugging you. Your mind was completely scrambled.

“Oh my gosh, babe that’s so great! I’m so happy for you!” You said with a smile. You were genuinely happy for him. You knew where the FBI headquarters were, meaning you would have a transfer. You didn’t mind though if it meant starting a family with Spencer.

“Are you okay though? It looks like you’ve been crying” Spencer said with concern in his eyes.

“Spencer…I’m .. im pregnant.” You said in a whisper with a slight grin, and the blood drained from Spencer’s face.

“What? How?” He said in a blank tone. “I’m pregnant Spencer, one month exactly and you know how” rolling your eyes, He stared off, you were so nervous. It was silent for a few minutes before you spoke up.

“Spence say something.” You begged he turned towards you. “I’m sorry but .. I can’t have this baby with you, I just got into my dream job Y/N.” He said grabbing his keys and heading for the door.

You stood there completely in shock. You never thought he would react this way. You were willing to move with him. This was everything you wanted and he doesn’t want it. You started to quickly pack everything you could all the things that were important. You didn’t want to ruin his life and he made his choice.

Once you had a few bags packed you drove to a cousins house, somewhere Spencer couldn’t find you. Spencer broke your heart but you wanted this baby. You didn’t need him at all, you had your cousin. He didn’t deserve you and or your child.

He chose the job over your child. Spencer had been anything but a coward but he proved you wrong.

Spencer came home heartbroken and in tears. Noticing all your things were gone he couldn’t hold it together. All your books, the mug he gave you for your first anniversary, everything was gone. He blamed himself for you leaving.

He was ready to have the baby, he wanted to do everything with you. The job didn’t matter, he always wanted a family especially with you. He called you and your best friend and couldn’t get a hold of you. Spencer knew he fucked up big time.

Months later you were giving birth to your baby girl, Beatrix Marie. She was so healthy, she looked like a perfect mix of you and Spencer. You hated him even more now that she was here. Her perfect nose and eyes that are bound to be huge like Spencer’s. You can’t believe he didn’t want her, to raise her, and love her but he made his choice.

No matter how much you disliked Spencer Bea was every part of him. She was a curious baby and had such a goofy smile like him. Years later Bea was still such a sweetheart and it broke her heart when you moved her across the country.

“Mommy, why do we have to go to Virginia?” Bea said after as you both were watching Doctor Who, which was her favorite show even for a 6 year old.

You had to move to Virginia to finish school and your residency. The pay was decent so you worked at the bookstore which Bea loved. She would also get to see the Smithsonian which she ended up loving. The move was great, life was great, and Bea was amazing.

On her 7th birthday she asked to of course go to the Smithsonian Zoo and to her favorite book store to see her favorite Liberian. Bea was so smart, you didn’t want her to move up in school just yet, she enjoyed the grade she was in for right now. Spencer always lingered in the back of your head. You never knew if you were making the right decisions without him.

The Smithsonian was great, Bea squealed looking at the different animals. She had a love for books, sugar, and animals of course. The bookstore was your next stop, you didn’t even call to see if Ms. Willis, the old Liberian women that would read and watch Bea when you first got to Virginia was in today.

Bea ran off as soon as you hit the door. “Bea no running honey, and stop laughing so loud.” You said in a loud whisper. “Sorry mommy.” She giggled as she ran off. “Hey, Ty is Ms.Willis here? Bea wants her to read to her for her birthday.” Ty was the cashier and a sweetheart who would babysit Bea sometimes when you worked late.

“Yeah she’s in the back I’ll go get her!” Ty said walking to the back. You went to the section you knew Bea would be in. You faintly heard her laughing and smiled. That’s when you heard a man’s voice and your smile dropped. Thinking the worse you walked quickly to the voice and there he was.

Spencer Reid, with his legs folded reading to his daughter, your daughter. “Hey Bea, go up front with Ty and I’ll be right there.” You said looking at Bea and Spencer noticing how she looks more like him then ever before. “Butt mommy, he was just reading Charlotte’s Web from memory.” Bea whined, “Beatrix. Now” she quickly stood and walked off “Bye spencer” she said in a defeated tone.

“Bye Beatrix.” He smiled faintly, you knew how much this was hurting him. “Hey Y/N” he stood and was now standing in front of you. He was tall, he had a tab of weight on him but you liked it, with his perfect hair identical to Beatrixs.

“Hi Spencer. Don’t come anywhere near her again“ he cut you off “I’m so sorry I didn’t know what I was thinking. It was the biggest mistake of my life.… I’m sorry.” He said as you seen his eyes began to water.

“Spencer you downright told me you didn’t want her and now?” you had no words, you never thought you would see him again. You knew it was a possibility but you haven’t thought about it in so long.

“Beatrix Marie Reid, happy birthday to my favorite 7 year old!” Ms. Willis said loudly with a ballon and a book Bea been asking for. The look on Spencer’s face when he heard her full name. You still named her after him even after what he did.

“It’s her birthday today, Spencer I’m mad at you, I love you and you left me, you left us” You said quietly looking at him with tears forming in your eyes. Spencer wanted to be in Beas life, to read with her and take her to ice cream. He wanted you most of all, he was still madly in love with you.

“I’ll give you time to process but here’s my number and address so we can .. talk.” You passed him the note. You didn’t know why you gave it to him. Beatrix was a smart girl so she had questions about her dad.

“Why does Mariah have a dad but I don’t?” Bea asked while you both were eating breakfast. “You do have a dad baby .. you just don’t know him.” You wanted to be honest and open with Bea.

“Did he not want me?” She asked looking down with her hair falling in Her face. Spencer didn’t want Bea you knew that, you just hated seeing her like this.

“How about I’ll tell you the whole story when you’re a little older.” Pushing her brown curl behind her ear. She pushed her glasses off the bridge of her nose “I love you mommy.”

——-

Beatrix had an amazing birthday she enjoyed it so much. It was always time for her last birthday request which was any horror movie of her choosing. To no surprise she chose The nightmare before Christmas her absolute favorite movie.

Bea had just showered and but on her pjs waiting on the couch for the popcorn. As your putting the popcorn in the bowl the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Bea hopped up fast knowing she wasn’t allowed to open the door. Making an exception this time cause her best friend was supposed to be coming over also.

She swung it open with you behind her quickly, “Spencer! How do you know where we live? Do you think you can read to me? After the movie please.” Bea rambled so fast you could barley understand.

“Of course only if it’s okay with your mom.” He smiled at her, even missing 7 years of her life he still looked at her with a love you never seen. “I’ll think about it B, go watch the movie.” Kissing her head and handing her the popcorn.

You and Spencer walked to the kitchen watching Bea from the island. The love was still there between you and Spencer.

“I won’t keep her away from you. She deserves to know you but you have to tell her why you left.” You said looking him dead in his eye.

“Okay. Let me explain to you wh—“ you interrupted “Spencer this is about you and Bea not you and me. You explain to her why you left. Now come on her favorite movie is on.” You said walking towards Bea as Spencer trailed behind.

They both talked through the entire movie. Bea asking every question and Spencer there with an answer. Bea laughed and laughed so much with him. 45 minutes later Beatrix was sleep. You quietly picked her up to walk her to her room with Spencer trailing behind.

You laid her down and tucked her in giving her one kiss on the forehead. Spencer watched the entire thing in awe of how amazing you were with her. He always knew you’d be the perfect mother.

As you walked out and turned out the light Bea whispered “Can spencer still read to me mommy?” In her sleepy voice. “Maybe next time B, Goodnight” you said walking out with Spencer in front of you.

Once you were in the living room the room fell silent. You both pick up the tv room and headed to the kitchen. “I want Beatrix to have the most normal upbringing I can give her.” You started catching his attention, “if you tell her there’s no backing down. You will not come in her life and leave her.” You said in a stern tone.

“I will never leave her or you again.” Spencer said knowing he meant it, he was ready for everything fatherhood had to offer.

[radiant-reid]

hi cate! could you do a blurb about reader telling spencer that she wants to get out of the box because of the trauma she experienced during her time working there? (they’ve been dating for years)

You're sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen island with your phone in your hand while Spencer makes coffee and all you want to do is cry. It's an overwhelming urge that you're barely managing to keep down.

Spencer, of course, notices how quiet you're being, not already speculating on the case or asking him for facts about child kidnapping cases. "Are you okay?" He asks gently, sliding your coffee cup in front of you.

That's all it takes. All he has to do is ask if you're okay and you're in tears. He walks around to hug you when he sees them slip down your cheeks, not concerned about your mascara staining his shirt as he holds you against your chest.

"Hey, hey, hey." He coos, a little alarmed but trying to be comforting. "What's wrong?" He tries again when you pull back, cupping your cheeks to wipe away some of your tears.

"I'm just exhausted, Spence." You sob, continuing to explain. "We get the texts, and I just feel dread. Not about how bad it is but because I know I'll feel emotionally drained for at least a few days afterward."

He's felt that way before. He remembers what it was like to ignore a phone call from Emily in New Orleans because of the gut punch that came with the call. He can tell you've been feeling this way for a while, and he can't imagine the panic not going away.

"I'm sorry I didn't notice." He apologizes.

"You didn't have to." You assure him. "I feel stupid for it because you've been at the BAU for, like, 10 years, and you're fine. Hotch has been there for longer, and Rossi's been there basically his whole life. You've all been in far worse situations than I've been."

Spencer shakes his head, gently disagreeing. "Darling, you can only feel the way you feel. It affects us all differently, and it doesn't make you weak or less than us to feel that way."

"Really?" You ask. "You're not mad that I...want to leave?" It's the first time you've said it out loud, and it doesn't feel upsetting like you thought it would.

It just fills you with relief.

Even the thought of being able to get a phone call and not feel nauseous reassures you it's the right decision.

"Not at all." He says. "I wasn't mad at Elle or Blake or even Gideon eventually. All I want is for you to be happy. If that's at the BAU or not, it doesn't matter.

"They might be upset, though." You express another concern you've been having with him.

Spencer shakes his head again. "They love you too, and you'll always be in their lives." You look skeptical, so he continues. "I promise, Y/n. I'll call Hotch and tell him we're sick."

"No." You shake your head, reaching for your phone. "No, please. There's a little girl missing and we need to go."

He looks at you like he's assessing whether or not you're going to be able to work this case, but you've released enough pressure just telling him how you feel to not need to stay home.

"Okay." He agrees. "But after we can talk this all out, and make a plan with some dates."

There aren't enough words that sum up how much you appreciate his caring but systematic nature, so you end up only saying three. "I love you."

[softness-and-shattering]

How does the earth itself have sex? I feel like Alecto has to be a switch vers with every kink except for redheads, apparently.

Nona thinks flowers are sexy, Nav is first flower of the 9th house because its a drill shaft on pluto

Or she's ace because what does a planet mate with, another planet? By collision? So...impact play?

If Harrow isnt sex repulsed, she has to be into sensory play, especially limiting sensory input. Unless its just taste and texture she struggles with; Nona struggles with texture but unclear if thats attached to ones soul or body or mind or the rest of the happy meal.

Maybe Harrow is a power bottom? She would definitely do anything Alecto directed her to but I dont know if she'd be horny about it, I think she'd be pretty overwhelmed. But then I come back to Nona-Alecto who I think would be happy with anything and just want Harrow to have a good time. But I think Harrow is too repressed to be able to ask.

See I can see Harrow using the skeletons and such to top Gideon or being submissive to her. Harrianthe could go either way, maybe both, if Harrow trusts Ianthe enough. But Alecto?

I have mused and I have come to the conclusion: I have zero fucking idea. Theres not that much to go on. I think Harrow would cry if she allowed herself to tolerate a proper hug.

So like. If Alecto were dtf, who do you figure would top? Like would Harrow service top worship at her alter, or would Harrow be her own offering, you know?

[bagsybaggins]

What I think the Legacy group would see in the mirror of Erised

These are just my opinions/headcanon on what the characters would see if they stumbled upon the mirror, and how they would react to what they see. Including my OCs, Atropos and Gideon Caelum.

Sebastian (found before his quest):

When he finds the mirror, he's not drawn to it at first. But when he sees his reflection changing, he stops to investigate. He sees himself standing beside his sister, and his jaw begins to drop when he sees Anne, happy and healthy. Laughing with her arm strewn over his shoulder, a broad smile on her face. A newspaper in his mirrored self's hands, the daily profit headline reading, "Ranrok and his loyalists brought to justice!" He feels the need to tell Ominis what he found, but he stays in place, glued to his spot as he stares at the glass. A relieved grin on his face.

Sebastian (found after his quest):

Finding the mirror, he would be curious but would freeze in his place at the mirror's reflection. His eyes wide as he sees himself hugging Anne, and his Uncle standing behind him with a hand on his shoulder. Anne pulled back and Sebastian felt a lump in his throat as his altered self turned to hug his uncle, who returned the hug and said some words that failed to escape the mirror. The heavy feeling settled in his chest, hardening in his heart as he tore his eyes from the reflection. But when he sees a shift in the corner of his eyes, they return to the mirror. His breath gets lodged in his throat as he sees himself kneeling down, ring in hand, and Atropos nodding her head rapidly with tears coating her eyes. He turns around when his mirrored self picks her up and spins around with her holding his cheeks, the ring gleaming. His heart ached as he walked out of the room, the guilt and regret almost too heavy for him to bare, but he would carry it.

Ominis:

Now, naturally, he wouldn't see anything. However, if he could with his wand or sense something, this is what I believe he would see.

With his wand being held tightly in his right hand, he stood in front of the mirror, confused as to why it was the only thing in the barren room besides cobwebs and dust. And then, the slight shift in the air, his senses heightened as he pointed his wand at the mirror. A small thack was heard as his wand made contact with the glass. Ominis gasped as his wand translated what was happening, brows furrowing as he tried to interpret it all.

His aunt, Noctua was behind him, her hand on his shoulder. And behind them were his parents, and his siblings. All of them stood proudly, not a hint of disappointment in their eyes. The familiar sense of dark magic that lingered around them was gone, completely vacant. He knew it couldn't be real, or a vision of the future. His older sister, Bealora, had passed away during his third year and died of dragon pox. And his Aunt died in Hogwarts, trying to access the Scriptorium. But, he couldn't deny the longing that clings to his heart, wanting the mirror's image to be true. A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips as he senses his aunt smiling down at him.

A little time to linger wouldn't hurt.

Anne:

Pre-cursed Anne would've seen her parents, standing with her and Sebastian. Post-cursed Anne however would see something else, especially if it's after Sebastian's questline.

It takes a lot of energy for her to go anywhere, the bouts of pain coming and going in uncertain intervals. And when she found the strange mirror sitting alone in an abandoned room, she was curious. And when she gazed into the mirror, she felt a sharp pain in her heart at the sight of her Uncle Solomon standing beside her and Sebastian. He had his usual grim smile in place, something she had grown to miss about him. And Sebastian. The sight of him made her want to cry in anger and sorrow. She almost missed her reflection, how she stood tall with her cheeks round with a smile, instead of hunched with cheeks hallowed and a frown on her lips.

A future that was impossible to ever achieve, because of the damage that Sebastian had caused. Anne turned around as the tears began to cloud her vision. She couldn't bare to look at the reflection's lies anymore.

Poppy:

I love Poppy, to be honest, and wish we had more to her quest

Poppy would be immediately intrigued by the lonesome mirror and would be awestruck at the reflection shifting. She'd see an older version of herself, surrounded by magical creatures. But the longer she stared, she began to recognize some similarities between the creatures, realizing that they were from the poacher camps where she grew up. But she had freed them, them and more. Her eyes widened as she watched her parents approach her, their poacher masks are gone and smiles were on their faces as they gently pet Highwing. She smiled at the sight of her Gran, holding a baby Snidget beside Atropos who was hugging Poppy.

Her heart felt lighter when she left the room, setting out to find Atropos.

Natsai:

If it was before her questline, she would see that Harlow would be put to justice for what he had done. But after the quest, is a different story, kinda.

Finding the mirror she would be confused, but also intrigued like Poppy was. But when she saw her father, she would feel the air escaping her lungs. She would tear up at the sight of his smile as he looked down at her, hugging her reflection and placing a kiss on her head, as he use to do. A wide smile and a slight laugh would escape her as tears slipped down her cheeks, watching as he changed into his animagus form, which was too large for the mirror to capture more than just his front legs. She had missed the way they had gone our riding together. She had missed him.

But the sorrow of missing him no longer brought pain as it had done before. Now, it was just the sorrow that he would not be able to see her grow up, that he wouldn't be with them.

Garreth:

Seeing Garreth exploding the potion in potions class just reminded me of Fred and George. I can see where they got their creativity from.

For Garreth, finding the mirror was completely by accident. He had nearly ran into it after taking a wrong turn in the large castle, and stumbled into an unfamiliar room. It was obvious that the mirror was different, having it standing alone in an empty room. So, naturally, he looked into it.

The first thing he noticed, wasn't his dashing good looks, but rather the potion he was holding. The label or what it contained was too difficult for him to read, but he could clearly read the label above it. His name is placed as the creator of this potion. Behind him were shelves filled with bottles of his potion, along with a few other potions that he didn't recognize. His older self was smirking, and the familiar flashes of a camera made him realize that he was getting his picture taken, for the daily profit no doubt. He grinned as he stared up at the mirror, pleased with what he was seeing.

He couldn't wait to make that future become a reality.

Leander:

To be honest, I'm not a fan of him. Not to mention that we get very little from his character. But I figured it's fair to include him for the only fact that he's a relative of Molly.

Leander finding the mirror, he would probably see himself holding a trophy which would be labeled 'Greatest Duelest of the Ages'. He would stare wide-eyed, a swell of confidence building in his chest. He would grin as he sees Sebastian in the distance behind him, a look of despair on his face.

He would also fail to read the mirrors' engraving.

Everett:

Not going to lie, I completely see why a few have him set to have feelings for Imelda. And I support it.

Everett would, like Garreth, simply stumble upon the mirror. Although, he was probably trying to find a place to hide his broom or some extra belongings that he didn't want anyone snooping in.

His first thought was about how dusty the mirror was. Not his best moment, but not his worst. Then when he looked passed the dust, he would feel his cheeks warm. His reflection was older, by a few year max. His hair was shorter, clean cut around the sides, and a little overgrown on top, but he looked rather charming if he did say so himself. The next thing he would notice is the quidditch robes he adorned, and then he noticed his cheek being kissed. His face went from pink to red, and he felt his heart skipping beats which should be concerning, however, he couldn't bring himself to care.

His elder self had his arm wrapped around Imelda's waist, and her lips on his cheek. He had to show her this, or else she wouldn't believe it.

Imelda:

Imelda isn't my favorite Slytherin, but she's a good flyer. I'll give her that.

Imelda finding the mirror would have to be because someone showed her, finding her outside the quidditch pitch is practically impossible. I can see Everett wanting to show her, and he would babble about what he had seen, but not explicitly giving out all the details.

When she looked in the mirror, she felt pride as she sees herself wearing a Holyhead Harpies uniform. Standing proud in front of the press that was taking pictures of her, she held her head high. However as Everett asks her if she sees it, that's when she noticed the inscription. And she feels her heart fall a little as she realizes that it doesn't show the future. And so does Everett's face when she tells him.

Amit:

Amit only wanted to meet a goblin and study the stars, he didn't ask for a fight. My favorite Ravenclaw, besides Luna Lovegood.

Amit finding the mirror, he would be curious but cautious, you never know if it would turn you to stone.

He would see himself holding his book, finally published and completed. He would be shocked at how tall his reflection was but also flattered. He could tell that his hard work would pay off in the end, and by the length of the book, his memoir was a rather interesting read and filled with all the adventures and knowledge that he had discovered and collected.

Atropos:

Ah, my Hufflepuff mc-oc, the magnet of trouble.

Hufflepuffs are particularly good finders. (If you get this, I love you.)

So she would just find it by pure coincidence. And as she looks into the mirror, her heart stutters.

She would see Professor Fig and her Grandad, looking at her with proud looks easily readable on their faces. Her eyes would water as their hands rest on her shoulders before they fade and become replaced by her parents. Her father's blue eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her, his black hair brushed neatly to the side as it was in his wedding photo. And her mother's grey eyes were soft along with her smile as she pulled her reflection into a hug, her curly blonde hair bouncing into her reflection's face.

Atropos inhaled sharply as she could see Fig and her Grandad appearing behind them, wide smiles on their faces as they are joined by her Uncle and Aunt, Charlie and Teresa.

Her eyes would drift to the engraving, and the first tear would fall as she realizes what the mirror was showing her. But she didn't hate it. She just wished it was true.

Gideon:

Ah, my Ravenclaw oc, you're a wizard, and you can cast lumos to not be in the dark anymore.

Gideon found the mirror because Atropos had mentioned it, and he got curious.

He knew what Atropos had seen, and wanted to see what he would see. See if his desires were similar to hers.

They weren't.

His eyes widen as he sees himself in an auror uniform, dark blue with silver trimming. He hadn't actually given much thought to being an Auror, but seeing himself in the uniform felt natural. But his cheeks warmed as he sees himself raising a brow at the appearance of Poppy, who was holding a Niffiler in her arms, and a slim ring in between her thumb and index finger. His mouth slacked open as the reflection looked down at his left hand before shaking his head and taking the ring from her, sliding it onto his ring finger. His jaw snapped shut as she shook her head and kissed his cheek and walked out of view, taking the niffler with her.

Gideon didn't tell Atropos what he had seen.