#this damn thing will be 40k by the time it's done

[solar-wing]

⚣ One Kent Was Enough 👦🏻

⚣👦🏻 A/N → You spoiled little brats got a damn near 40k word fic out of me! No complaints, EVER again. Also, if anyone remembers, I posted about doing something like this before when I got inspired by this post from @cipheress-to-k-pop. Hope you enjoy and thank you for your patience and support! WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence | Canon Divergence | Domestic Fluff | Angst & Fluff | Minor Conner/M'Gann mentions | Slight Enemies To Lovers trope | Implied Mpreg |

⚣👦🏻 Summary → Conner and Y/N had a very tense relationship; tense meaning there was rarely a moment the two could be in the same room without arguing. Their friends didn't see a future where they would ever be close, let alone cordial. But, a timely visit from some special individuals could end up changing things for the better? Or worse, depending on the perspective. Could the world actually be ending?

⚣👦🏻 Words → 39.4K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 👦🏻

In the dimly lit garage hangar of Mount Justice, Batman, and Red Tornado stood solemnly by the ramp, awaiting the return of their young proteges from a mission that was purportedly successful, though marred by "minor complications," as Aqualad had cryptically reported. The exact nature of these complications remained unclear until the bio-ship's hatch door swung open, releasing a cacophony of shouts and arguments into the cool air of the hangar.

The first to disembark were Y/N and Conner, their heated argument escalating with each step they took from the ship. Their faces, illuminated by the harsh overhead lights, were twisted in frustration and anger—emotions that had clearly brewed long before the bio-ship touched down.

"You always undermine me, every single mission!" Y/N's voice echoed off the metal walls, his anger palpable. "With your encyclopedic brain, how can you not grasp the simple phrase 'I don’t need help'? Is English somehow the exception in your multilingual repertoire? Shall I translate it into Spanish? Russian? Swahili perhaps?"

Conner responded with equal venom, his voice low and menacing. "If you weren’t such a constant liability, maybe I wouldn’t need to intervene. And a 'thank you' might be nice, considering this is the fourth time this month I’ve had to bail you out."

As they continued their verbal duel, Batman and Red Tornado exchanged a glance, their expressions a mix of resignation and concern. The other team members exited the ship, their faces tense and weary, evidently disturbed by the ongoing conflict between their comrades.

"Report," Batman interjected, his voice cutting through the bickering with authoritative clarity.

"We neutralized Bane’s operation and apprehended him," Aqualad reported, maintaining a composed demeanor despite the slight twitch of irritation in his brow. "The mission was successful."

"Yeah, barely," Wally added, arms crossed, his tone dry. "He almost got away, thanks to Yin and Yang over there."

Aqualad shot Wally a sharp look, signaling him to tread carefully, but the damage was done. Batman’s gaze hardened, his attention now fully on the quarreling pair behind him.

"And what do you do besides scream like a monkey and throw tantrums?" Y/N shot back at Conner, his voice rising with each word. "If it weren’t for your so-called Kryptonian powers, you’d be less useful than my dog in a fight!"

"Don't compare me to a monkey," Conner growled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "And last time I checked, these 'weak' Kryptonian powers kept your behind safe more than once. Like that time you hid behind me when those League of Shadow goons cornered you?" Conner retorted, his fists clenched at his sides, the veins in his arms bulging with restrained fury.

"You baffling monkey head, I was casting a spell, not hiding!" Y/N snapped, his aura crackling with magical energy, a clear sign of his escalating temper.

"A spell to boost your courage, perhaps? And stop calling me names," Conner growled, stepping closer until they were nose to nose.

"What are you going to do? Thrown another tantrum if I hurt your wee little pride?" Y/N taunted, floating a few inches off the ground to meet Conner’s height, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Enough!" Batman’s command reverberated through the hangar, silencing everyone. He swiftly positioned himself between Y/N and Conner, his presence alone demanding peace. Aqualad and Kid Flash pulled Conner back while Zatanna and Robin gently guided Y/N to the ground, their actions preventative.

"This is the third time your arguments have nearly jeopardized a mission," Batman stated coldly. "Resolve this conflict, or you’re both sidelined until you can act like professionals."

With a final, piercing glance at the two, Batman turned and strode towards the mission control room, Red Tornado following in his silent, measured steps. The rest of the team dispersed quickly, their looks of sympathy and frustration cast toward Y/N and Conner as they left.

Fuming, Y/N rounded on Conner. "This is all your fault!"

"How is this my fault? You’re the one who can't keep his mouth shut," Conner shouted back.

"You're the one who can't take a hint and leave me alone," Y/N countered, his aura flaring.

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a pain in the ass, I wouldn't have to intervene," Conner said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, is that what you call it? Intervening? Because I'd call it something you tried to describe me as earlier with your self-projecting ass. And if you don't learn how to stay out of my way, I'll show you just how much of a pain I can be," Y/N threatened, his eyes glowing with unspent magic.

"Is that a threat?" Conner asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Oh, please, I wouldn't waste a threat on you. Your primate brain might not be able to understand it. But, it's definitely a promise," Y/N replied, his voice equally low as he turned away, his footsteps echoing in the empty hangar.

"Whatever," Conner muttered, turning and stalking off in the opposite direction.

As Y/N headed towards the showers, his mutterings continued, a stream of insults and grievances pouring out, unheard by all but Conner, who paused to listen with a heavy sigh before shaking his head and walking away.

The tension between Y/N and Conner had been growing for months, and their teammates were becoming increasingly concerned. The two had never seen eye to eye, but their animosity had recently reached new levels and now the rest of the team was beginning to suffer from it as well.

A couple of hours later, Zatanna and Y/N were deep in their studies in one of the library rooms at the base, surrounded by ancient texts and spellbooks. Y/N was particularly agitated, aggressively flipping through pages and muttering curses under his breath about Conner. This was typical following their arguments; Conner would withdraw and brood, while Y/N became irritable and quick to anger.

Their dynamic puzzled their friends and mentors. Despite claiming indifference toward each other, Y/N and Conner managed to elicit intense reactions from one another, more so than anyone else on the team. Initially, Y/N had been keen to form a bond with Conner, driven by an attraction he barely acknowledged. However, Conner’s apparent disinterest only fueled a series of confrontations, worsening their interactions over time.

As Y/N's frustration grew, Zatanna decided a break was needed. “Hey, I’m going to grab a snack. You want anything?” she asked, hoping to ease the tension.

“Conner’s head on a stake would be nice. If not, then apple juice, please,” Y/N half-joked, half-serious, not looking up from his spellbook.

Zatanna rolled her eyes at his melodramatic response and headed toward the lounge, where the mood was lighter. M’Gann was baking cookies, filling the room with a warm, inviting aroma. Dick and Wally were engaged in a video game, with Artemis spectating, while Kaldur was absorbed in a book.

Upon noticing Zatanna, M’Gann offered a spoonful of cookie dough. “Hey Zatanna, want to try my new recipe? I’m hoping it’ll cheer Conner up.”

“Sure, who would ever say no to free cookie dough?” Zatanna smiled, taking the spoon.

Artemis, overhearing the conversation, commented wryly, “M’Gann, you’re too good for him. I’d only bring back lawsuits for my exes.”

“We’re not exes!” M’Gann protested, a blush coloring her cheeks.

“So, you guys are still together?” Artemis raised an eyebrow, her tone teasing.

“No! Well—technically yes, but it’s complicated. We haven’t talked about it, but we haven’t broken up either. It’s just... things are different now. I’m not sure what we are. I mean, we’re not dating, but we’re not not dating. Does that make sense?"

"Not really, but whatever makes you happy," Artemis shrugged.

Zatanna offered her a sympathetic hand while washing the spoon in the sink. “Just give him some time. Where is Conner, anyway?”

“Either in the garage hangar or the training room, letting off some steam after his fight with Y/N,” Dick answered, his attention briefly diverted from the game.

M’Gann’s expression soured at the mention of Y/N, prompting Zatanna to add, “That’s why I’m out here. Needed a break from all the mumbled threats and angry huffs.”

“What were they arguing about this time?” Artemis inquired, genuinely curious.

“Who knows? Those two bicker so much, I doubt even they remember what starts it half the time,” Wally chimed in, his fingers busily working the game controller.

“But seriously, is it just me or is the tension between Y/N and Superboy getting worse?” Wally interjected, pausing the game.

“It’s not just you,” Dick replied, setting his controller aside. “They’ve been at each other’s throats lately.”

Wouldn't it be funny if everyone were currently thinking of a memory where Y/N was literally at Conner's throat, trying to choke him out? Not that that actually happened or anything.

...

Okay, it definitely did, but Batman definitely did not have to get Zatanna and Zatara to magically restrain Y/N from trying to suffocate the half-Kryptonian with his powers.

...

Okay, he definitely did.

“I thought they were past this,” Zatanna sighed. “I mean, it’s been a year since their first big fight, and things seemed to have calmed down. But now, it’s like they’re back to square one.”

“I just want to know why Conner always seems to pick fights with Y/N for no apparent reason,” Artemis pondered aloud.

Zatanna noticed M’Gann mixing her cookie dough with more force than necessary and decided to distance herself from the counter, eyeing the bits of dough that were escaping out of the bowl.

“True, but Y/N can be just as provocative. He gives as good as he gets, which only escalates their conflicts,” Kaldur observed, not looking up from his book.

“It’s like a vicious cycle with them. Last week, Y/N cast a spell on Conner during an argument at school just to shut him up—literally removed his ability to speak temporarily,” Zatanna recounted, shaking her head.

“Yikes,” Wally winced.

“Yeah. Thankfully, no one was around to see it or the damage caused to the hallway in the aftermath. They should feel lucky I was there to clean up their mess,” Zatanna frowned, recalling the incident.

“Why are they so hostile towards each other? They’re supposed to be teammates, not enemies,” Dick wondered.

“Maybe they’re secretly into each other and are too stubborn to admit it,” Wally joked, earning a pillow thrown at his head by Artemis.

“Wally, that’s not funny,” M’Gann chided, her expression darkening.

“Sorry, sorry. I was just kidding,” Wally apologized, raising his hands in surrender.

“Why hasn’t Batman done anything about their constant fighting? Surely, he’s noticed how disruptive it is,” Artemis asked, her tone exasperated.

“He has, and he’s given them multiple warnings, but they haven’t listened,” Kaldur responded.

“Well, hopefully, they’ll sort out their issues eventually. For the sake of the team, and their own sanity,” Dick sighed.

“Yeah, those two getting along? Might as well be a sign of the apocalypse,” Wally joked.

No sooner had he spoken than the room was suddenly engulfed in a brilliant, searing light that pulsed like a living thing. It expanded rapidly, washing over everything in sight with an overwhelming glow, casting sharp shadows and making it impossible to see more than a few inches ahead. Zatanna stumbled backward, instinctively reaching out for the edge of the counter, her knuckles whitening as she gripped it tightly while M'Gann covered her face with her arm and did her best to hold onto the counter.

It was an intense magical energy that felt thick, almost tangible, vibrating in the air as it intensified. Zatanna could feel it coursing through her, every hair on her body standing on end as the power surged from the epicenter while the others struggled to remain upright.

The force of the magic tugged at everyone, like an invisible hand trying to pull them closer to the blinding core of the disturbance. Papers flew off the table, books flipped open and fluttered their pages wildly, and the very air felt charged with potential—like the moment before a storm unleashes its fury. M’Gann’s telekinesis instinctively flared, her eyes glowing as she erected a weak barrier to keep the scattered kitchenware from hitting anyone. Dick dropped his controller and braced against the couch, feeling the gust of wind push against his frame, while Wally, ever the speedster, darted to the side and ducked behind Artemis, trying to shield her with his body.

“What the heck is that?!” Dick yelled out, though his voice was drowned out by the roaring sound that accompanied the light.

“I have no idea, but I’m not sticking around to find out,” Wally shouted back, grabbing Artemis and speeding her around to behind the counter where M'Gann was.

Zatanna, eyes squinting through the blinding light, reached out with her magic, trying to push against the force, but even her well-honed abilities struggled to contain it. It felt wild and potent—untamed, but also somehow new and pure, like a water source that never experienced the effects of pollution. “What is this?” she muttered through gritted teeth, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of sound and energy.

“Everyone, get down!” Kaldur ordered, shielding his eyes.

As the light grew in intensity, it became almost painful to bear. Everyone was holding on to something—whether a counter, a chair, or each other—bracing themselves against the sheer force of the phenomenon. It was as if the very fabric of reality was being stretched thin, ready to snap at any second. And then, just as quickly as it had started, the light dimmed, the energy receding, leaving the room eerily quiet. The gusts of wind ceased, and the magic that had filled the space dissipated into the air, leaving only the scattered remnants of their surroundings in disarray. Everyone stood frozen in place, breathless, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

The team slowly emerged from their various hiding spots, still shaken by the unexpected display of magic. Dick was the first to stand, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to clear the spots from his vision. “Can someone explain why we just got hit by a magical freight train?” he groaned, squinting at the mess left in the room.

“Is everyone okay?” Kaldur asked, breaking the silence.

“I think so,” M’Gann replied, her voice shaky.

“What the hell was that?!” Artemis demanded, her heart racing.

Meanwhile, Zatanna stood frozen, her gaze fixed on something no one else seemed to notice. In the midst of the scattered books and overturned chairs, three new figures now stood in the room, looking completely out of place and, oddly enough, not at all concerned by the chaos around them.

“Uh, guys…?” Zatanna started, trying to catch someone’s attention.

Kaldur frowned, inspecting the room as though he could assess what had just happened with logic alone. “That was magic. Though, I've never felt anything like it. That energy felt…different. More raw than what we’re used to,” he noted, his brows furrowed. “It wasn’t one of Zatanna’s spells, was it?”

“No, it definitely wasn’t me,” Zatanna responded absentmindedly, her eyes still trained on the three figures. “But seriously, guys…”

M’Gann, still rattled, glanced around the room at the damage. “Do you think it was a new villain attack? It didn’t feel like a typical threat, but—”

“I don't think it was an attack,” Kaldur interjected, his eyes narrowing as he tried to piece it all together. “At least, not in the conventional sense. The magic was too unfocused.”

“But, how could someone attack us here? It seems unlikely any villain would consider attacking here, knowing we know that they know about the Cave,” M'Gann added, clumsily repeating Wally's words from their first week in the Cave.

“No, but it isn’t the first time we were attacked here,” Artemis reminded her.

“Guys!” Zatanna said again, this time louder, but still no one paid attention.

Dick continued to rub his temples, his patience wearing thin. “Whatever it was, we need to figure it out fast. We can’t just wait for Batman to—”

“GUYS!” Zatanna practically shouted now, waving her hands wildly in the air.

“What?!” Wally finally turned, looking exasperated.

Zatanna pointed dramatically toward the three new presences in the room, who were standing in varying degrees of awkwardness and curiosity. One of them was casually flipping through a spellbook that had landed on the floor, seemingly unbothered by the team’s presence.

“Uh, guys… You see three random kids in the corner too, right?” Wally asked, bewildered.

Artemis, peering towards the corner, responded dryly, “Of course, genius. Why else would we all be looking that way?”

The one with the spellbook, seemingly the oldest, stood confidently in the center, observing with an amused smile as Wally and Artemis bickered. The second boy, positioned slightly behind, crossed his arms and frowned—a familiar gesture that sparked a sense of déjà vu among the onlookers. The youngest clung to the eldest’s hand, peering from behind with wide, apprehensive eyes at the array of new faces, a strong resemblance to someone they all knew catching Zatanna's attention.

“Uh...when did they get here?” Dick asked, blinking rapidly.

The one holding the spellbook glanced at the Boy Wonder, his bright, yet calculating smile like he knew you and everything about you with just one look. “Oh, we’ve been here for a while. Hope we didn’t interrupt anything.”

The rest of the team’s jaws dropped simultaneously.

Before anyone could react to the newcomers, the sound of loud, heavy footsteps reverberated through the space, and Conner barreled into the room. His usual brooding expression was replaced by a combination of panic and anger, his hands clenched into fists. "What the heck is going on in here?!" he demanded, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of danger.

As the Kryptonian burst into the room, the youngest boy's face lit up with recognition. “DADA!” he exclaimed, releasing the eldest's hand and sprinting towards Conner with surprising speed.

Conner, caught off guard, froze, his eyes widening as the child collided with his legs and wrapped his arms around him.

"Dada, dada, dada!" the little boy repeated, his voice muffled against the older man's leg.

"What the...?" Conner mumbled, his brain struggling to process the situation.

"Um, Conner, care to explain?" Dick asked, his confusion evident.

"Explain what?" Conner shot back, his eyes darting between the team and the child clinging to him.

The team's faces registered a mix of shock and slight amusement as Superboy, taken aback, tried to gently remove the enthusiastic toddler clinging to his leg. The boy's laughter filled the room as he attempted to shake him off—unsuccessfully.

“I wouldn’t do that,” the eldest boy advised calmly. “That’s his favorite thing to do when you get home from work. The harder you try and shake him off, the longer he’s going to hold on.”

Conner stopped moving, and the child’s grip loosened slightly but remained firm. Frustrated yet curious, Conner looked around at the bewildered faces of his teammates. “Whose kid even is this?” he asked.

"Yours, apparently," Wally snickered.

"Not funny, Wally. Now, whose is it really?" Conner replied, his tone laced with irritation.

“Um... dude, judging from that kid’s reaction and the fact they seem to know you more than anyone, I’m gonna make an educated guess and say he’s yours too,” Dick replied, his voice filled with astonishment.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Conner snapped, his frustration growing.

"Language," the eldest boy warned, his eyes narrowing.

"Sorry," Conner grumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly, feeling scolded in a way only someone else ever made him feel. Who the hell were these kids?

Conner’s confusion deepened as he looked down at the smiling boy and then at the other children. Upon closer observation, their similar features became slowly unmistakable now, making it increasingly difficult to deny the reality: he was indeed their father.

Where was Maury when you needed him?

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Conner groaned as the boy began climbing him like a playground.

“Welp, might as well continue down this crazy train since we're at full speed. So if we've summarized that these three random kids that just appeared out of nowhere are our resident Kryptonian's offspring, then who's their mom?” Wally asked, his gaze sweeping toward the female members of the team.

Zatanna raised an eyebrow menacingly, challenging him to continue, while Dick glared disapprovingly at the implication. Artemis watched the exchange with an amused yet intrigued expression.

M’Gann stood up abruptly, her voice ringing with a mixture of excitement and certainty, “Hello, Megan! If they're Superboy’s kids, there’s only one logical explanation.”

“They’re all clones made in a lab too?” Wally suggested, which earned him a round of exasperated looks.

“No, Wally. I was going to say that if they’re Conner’s kids, then I must be their mom!” M’Gann exclaimed, flying over to the three boys. Conner, looking increasingly overwhelmed, watched silently as she approached the children with open arms.

“Hi, little guys. It’s so nice to meet you. I’m M’Gann, or Megan here on Earth, but you can call me Mom. What are your names?” she asked with a warm smile.

The boys exchanged looks, seeming to communicate silently before the eldest responded cautiously, “Uhm, hi. Don’t know how to say this without sounding mean, but—uhm...”

“You’re not our mom,” the boy behind him said bluntly.

Everyone cringed slightly as that statement hit M’Gann like a physical blow, her face a mixture of confusion and hurt. But before she could gather her thoughts to respond, the room’s attention was diverted by more footsteps, these lighter but just as quick.

“What in the world is going on out here? Do you wombats not understand I’m trying to meditate? And where is my apple juice?!” Y/N’s voice, gruff with irritation, cut through the tension.

The youngest boy, still clinging to Conner, pointed excitedly at Y/N. “Papa!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the suddenly silent room.

“Does anyone want to explain why this random child currently playing monkey bars on Conner just pointed at me and called me Papa?” Y/N asked, his surprise evident as he stared at the child reaching out to him.

The team exchanged stunned looks, each as speechless as the next while M’Gann displayed a blend of horror and anger, Conner’s embarrassment and irritation at the "monkey bars" comment clear.

The heavy silence was finally broken by Wally’s incredulous remark, “Oh my god, the world is gonna end.”

Everyone gathered in the living room, with Conner and Y/N positioned centrally, while their three unexpected young guests sat casually on the couch.

“Okay, let me go over this one more time, just to make sure I’m not missing anything,” Y/N began, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he eyed the two oldest children exchanging knowing looks before turning his attention back to the group. “You three are from the future and used a magic spell that you're claiming I taught you to come back in time because you wanted to meet your parents?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what we’re claiming,” the oldest affirmed.

“And you’re also saying that me and Conner are those parents?” Y/N gestured between himself and the Kryptonian, who was observing the children with a mixture of skepticism and intrigue.

“Yep,” the boy replied confidently.

“LIAR!” Y/N’s voice boomed suddenly, pointing an accusatory finger at the child. The sudden outburst caused a stir among his teammates.

“Y/N!”

“Dude!”

“What is wrong with you?”

The children merely covered the youngest brother’s ears, though the little one giggled, oblivious to the chaos. Even Conner shot Y/N a disapproving look, though that wasn’t unusual.

“What? He claims I taught him that spell—something I would never irresponsibly share with a child, especially one that could cause all of this! Plus, that spell isn’t even in my book,” Y/N defended himself, his exasperation causing sighs and head-shaking among the team.

“Really?! That’s the part you find hard to believe?” Wally interjected incredulously.

“What? You don’t think they’re from the future?” Y/N retorted.

“Uhm, how about the fact they’re claiming to be your kids?!” Dick countered, his disbelief evident.

“Oh, right. Yeah, that’s not hard to believe at all,” Y/N responded dryly, drawing stunned looks from everyone, particularly Conner and M’Gann.

“This must be some sort of test by Batman, trying to teach me and Conner a lesson. Seriously, me and him? Together? Don’t insult me,” Y/N scoffed, dismissing the idea as utterly preposterous.

Conner’s expression shifted from confusion to anger, a storm brewing behind his eyes. He wasn’t the only one offended by the remark.

“Hey! You shouldn’t talk about Dad like that!” the middle child yelled at Y/N, mirroring Conner’s growing irritation.

“And what are you going to do about it, little boy?” Y/N taunted, only to yelp in pain as a blast of heat vision singed his thigh. “Ow! Did this little gremlin just fry me with heat vision? How does he even have heat vision when you don’t?!”

The room fell into shocked silence as the oldest child stood, calmly walking over to Y/N and healing the burn with a wave of his hand, leaving no trace of the injury. His powers were undeniable, as was the ever-clear fact that these kids were exactly who they claimed to be.

“Dude, Dad told you not to use your heat vision on people,” the eldest scolded his younger brother.

“Yeah, well, Papa warned you about snooping through his spellbook, and look where we are now!” the middle child shot back, waving his arms animatedly at the chaotic situation around them.

“AH-HA! Told you!” Y/N exclaimed triumphantly, though most of the team just rolled their eyes at his stubbornness.

“Dude, you’re focusing on the wrong thing. One kid just blasted you with heat vision, and the other healed you with magic that looks a lot like yours,” one of the others pointed out.

“I know, but I proved my point, and that’s what matters,” Y/N replied, his tone a mix of vindication and annoyance.

“As you should,” the oldest child agreed, earning a wary glance from Y/N.

“Okay, how about we start this whole thing over,” Zatanna suggested, cutting through the tension. With a flick of her wrist, she conjured extra seats for Y/N and Conner to sit across from their children. “Let’s try introductions first, and then sort the rest out.”

As everyone repositioned themselves, the youngest child sprang from the couch and darted back to Conner, once again climbing him like a jungle gym.

“Not this again,” Conner groaned, clearly exasperated.

“Told you, it’s his favorite thing. He loves when you come home from work or pick him up from daycare. He also loves tickle fights,” the oldest explained, pointing to Y/N as the little one began poking playfully at Y/N’s side.

“Tickle, tickle…” the young boy giggled, his tiny fingers eliciting the faintest smile from Y/N, despite himself.

Zatanna and Artemis both cooed at the adorable sight, and even the rest of the team seemed to soften at the moment. M’Gann, however, couldn’t hide her discomfort. Abruptly, she left the room, her departure noted by all but especially by those who understood the depth of her feelings.

“So, about those introductions again?” Y/N said, redirecting attention back to the children, who were now all grinning at the prospect of formally meeting their parents.

Conner Kent Junior, or 'CJ' for short, was the oldest of the three future children. Before he was born, his father had embraced the tradition of naming children after oneself, opting for 'Junior' rather than 'The Second.' Surprisingly, Y/N—usually stubborn six days a week and double on Sundays—had agreed to this tradition. Present-day Y/N found it hard to believe he’d relent on anything, especially to Conner. The idea that they were a couple in any reality was hard enough to swallow, let alone the fact that he would so easily give in to Conner’s whims.

Yet, here was CJ—living proof of their future union. The boy was a spitting image of Conner: the same eyes, the same jawline, and the same stoic demeanor in displeasing situations, so much so that one might mistake him for a clone. However, certain subtle traits also revealed the undeniable truth that Y/N was his other biological parent, such as the shared hair texture and, of course, the child’s inherited magical abilities.

But beyond CJ’s physical resemblance to Conner, his personality was a carbon copy of Y/N’s. His attitude, his way of speaking, and even his mannerisms echoed his magical parent so closely that it was both amusing and slightly disconcerting. Apparently, in the future, Y/N had become a powerful wizard—capable of rivaling entities and deities—which CJ mentioned with a hint of pride that threatened to inflate Y/N’s ego even more than usual.

CJ’s adeptness at magic was remarkable, something that nearly rivaled his father’s power. Zatanna had felt the raw and potent magic when they first arrived, and CJ explained that his abilities were tied to ancient magic Y/N had encountered in the past—or was it the future? It was confusing, but either way, it was clear this magic was the reason CJ and his siblings even existed in the first place. The revelation left both of his parents intrigued—and for Y/N, particularly, nervous.

CJ and his brothers had used his magical skills to travel back in time, doubting the stories they’d been told about their parents' rocky relationship. According to their Aunt Zatanna, their parents had not always been the most harmonious duo, and the kids wanted to see it for themselves. Zatanna had told them tales of Y/N taking away Conner's voice in the middle of an argument or using magic to strangle him (briefly) after Conner made a snarky comment about his weight.

"Isn't it ironic that Dad's the one with the temper, but Papa's the one prone to murderous behavior? It's always the quiet ones," CJ had mused with a smirk. "But we wanted to see it for ourselves. You wrote the spell that got us here, but you wouldn’t teach it to me until I was older, or unless it was absolutely necessary."

"Well, that explains why I don’t have a spell like that in my book. But you’re admitting that I didn’t teach you the spell and you went behind my back?" Y/N raised a brow.

"No, I’m not admitting anything. I’m just saying that you didn’t teach me the spell, but you did write it," CJ replied casually.

"That’s not the point, and you know it," Y/N huffed, crossing his arms.

"I’m not saying anything without my lawyer," CJ shot back, barely hiding a smirk.

The quick wit and smart attitude were unmistakably Y/N’s influence. Despite CJ’s striking resemblance to Conner, his magical aptitude and sarcasm were all Y/N—he was clearly his father's son.

Colin, the middle child, was the wild card of the bunch. While CJ bore Conner’s serious demeanor, Colin had inherited Y/N’s mischievous streak and free-spirited nature. He had his father’s hair and eye color, but he possessed all of Conner's powers and temperament. He could also perfectly replicate his father's neutral, glaring expression—his signature stoic face.

The earlier heat blast Colin had unleashed during their arrival was a clear testament to the volatile mix of his genetic heritage. Colin’s abilities, however, had raised a lot of questions, especially since he seemed to have powers that Conner didn’t. Before CJ could elaborate further on Colin’s abilities, Zatanna had quickly stepped in, cautioning them against discussing too much about the future. Revealing too much could damage the timeline—and Y/N certainly didn’t need any more ego boosts.

Colin had also made his feelings about M’Gann very clear when he spoke of a mysterious "green lady" trying to separate his parents, a sentiment that left everyone silently grateful that M’Gann had left the room.

The youngest sibling, Camden Kent, was a perfect blend of his parents. His dark hair and eyes were from Conner, while his skin tone clearly came from Y/N. Though Camden didn’t display any powers yet, his cheerful personality and playful nature brightened any room he was in.

Though there was an undeniable charm to the whole situation, it didn’t make it any less complicated. Y/N had been right about one thing—the spell the kids had used wasn’t supposed to be in their hands. Colin had graciously snitched on his older brother, explaining how CJ had managed to get his hands on the spell by sneaking into Y/N's study while he and Conner were distracted.

"It was all CJ! Papa was making dinner and yelling at Dad about being overprotective, and something about not wanting a repeat of the Phantom Zone thing. CJ snuck into the study, took the spell page, and we used it in his room. I think they heard us, though, 'cause before we zapped out, I heard them rushing upstairs," Colin had said smugly.

Y/N had chuckled, "Me mad at Conner for getting in my way and trying to play hero? Sounds about right."

Conner’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides as Y/N’s words hit a nerve. The jab about playing hero had always been a sore spot, and hearing it now—especially in front of their potential future children—only made the sting sharper.

"Are you serious right now?" Conner growled, his blue eyes narrowing as the tension in the room escalated.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "What? Did I lie?"

"You always do this," Conner bit out, stepping closer. "Acting like you’re above needing help. I was trying to keep you safe—"

"Safe from what? Myself?" Y/N scoffed, crossing his arms. "I can handle things without you jumping in and messing everything up. If you’d stop being such a—"

"Hey!" Zatanna’s voice sliced through the rising tension. "Reirrab." With a wave of her hands, a glowing barrier appeared between them. "Can we not start another fight in front of the kids? I know this is overwhelming, but we need calm heads here."

Conner glared at Y/N but stepped back. Y/N, though clearly annoyed, shifted his stance and rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," Y/N muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Before Conner could respond, a sharp hiss from the couch interrupted them. "You didn’t have to rat me out, you little brat," CJ growled at Colin, who grinned smugly.

"You’re the one who got caught, not me," Colin taunted, sticking out his tongue.

CJ opened his mouth to argue, but a sharp look from Y/N silenced him. "Enough," Y/N said firmly, making both kids sink into their seats.

The room, now charged with tension from the glowering parents and their children was silent. That is until  Wally decided to speak up.

"Man, it’s like watching a mini version of you two go at it," he snickered, glancing at the kids. "Like father, like son—times two."

Dick raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Yeah, except I always thought Conner would be the one laying down the law. Not Y/N."

Wally laughed. "Right? Seeing Y/N as the bad cop—"

"Are you kidding?" Artemis cut in, crossing her arms. "Y/N’s always been a strict little stick-in-the-mud. I’m not surprised."

Y/N, who had been pinching the bridge of his nose, finally looked up. "Excuse me, I have always been the responsible one. Conner’s the one who probably thinks letting kids jump off roofs builds character."

Conner scowled. "I don’t see why not. They need to know how to fall."

"Typical," Y/N shot back, grinning sarcastically. "And you wonder why I don’t leave you alone with the kids."

"He's right," CJ chimed in.

"Yeah, Papa never lets you watch us alone for more than an hour after that one mission," Colin added matter-of-factly.

"See! And they said I didn’t know how to make smart decisions," Y/N replied dryly.

Conner sighed in frustration. "I can’t believe this. You’re blaming me for something that hasn’t even happened yet."

"Well, maybe if you weren’t so reckless, I wouldn’t have to worry," Y/N snapped.

"Reckless?" Conner scoffed, his voice rising. "You’re the one always running off and putting yourself in danger!"

Before the bickering could reignite, Zatanna cleared her throat. "Look, we’re not here to debate your future parenting dynamics. We need to figure out how to get these kids back to their timeline."

CJ, who had been fuming after Colin’s betrayal, hesitated. "Uh, about that…"

Y/N narrowed his eyes. "What now?"

The oldest child shifted nervously. "There’s kind of a problem with that."

Wally grinned. "What? You didn’t plan for the return trip?"

CJ flushed. "No, we did! But…"

"But what?" Conner asked, his patience wearing thin.

Colin piped up, "CJ lost the spell page."

All eyes snapped to CJ, who raised his hands defensively. "I didn’t lose it! I just… may not have held onto it tightly enough."

Y/N groaned, rubbing his temples. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

"Yep, definitely your kid," Dick commented with a chuckle.

Zatanna’s lips twitched. "Let me guess, you didn’t memorize the spell before casting it?"

CJ shifted uncomfortably. "We didn’t think we’d need it right away. I was focused on making sure it worked, not the clean-up."

"You didn’t think that maybe—just maybe—you’d need a way to get back?" Y/N asked, his exasperation evident.

"I was going to figure that part out later!" CJ snapped, sounding just as defensive as Y/N usually did when backed into a corner.

Conner crossed his arms. "This sounds familiar."

Y/N shot him a withering look. "Not helping."

Artemis laughed. "So what’s the plan now? We can’t keep these mini-you’s hanging around."

Zatanna nodded. "I can try to reverse the spell, but it’ll take time. I’ll need to gather some materials and maybe consult our spellbook. If future Y/N made it, it shouldn’t be too difficult."

"Hey!" Y/N protested, his ego bruised.

"She’s right," CJ admitted, earning a glare from Y/N.

"So we’re stuck with them," Y/N sighed.

"Hey, we’re right here!" Colin interjected indignantly, crossing his arms. "And it’s not our fault! CJ’s the one who messed it up!"

"Quit throwing me under the bus you ill-brained bug," CJ hissed, his narrowed eyes practically throwing daggers at his younger brother. "Don't call me names! And you did lose it," Colin shot back, his tone equally venomous.

"Enough," Y/N said, eyes hard. "No fighting."

Conner, meanwhile, looked at Camden, still hanging off his arm. The situation was far from what he’d imagined for his future. A family? Kids? He had never pictured it. And Y/N… he never thought they’d become something together. Yet, here they were.

"I'll start working on the reversal spell. In the meantime, we'll have to find a place for the kids to stay," Zatanna continued, ignoring the wounded expression on Y/N's face.

"They’ll stay with us," Conner stated, his tone firm.

Y/N’s brow shot up. "Excuse me? Us?"

"Yes, us. Did I stutter?"

CJ and Colin exchanged quick glances before Colin smirked, nudging his older brother. "Did Dad just use one of Papa's lines against him?" he whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. CJ grinned, nodding. "Yeah, and somehow he's still breathing. Must be a miracle."

The room erupted into soft laughter, with even Wally doubling over in amusement. Artemis gave Conner a playful nudge, her grin wide. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Kent."

Conner and Y/N stood there, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. Conner clenched his jaw while Y/N crossed his arms, a faint blush creeping up his neck.

"Okay," Kaldur intervened, saving them from further embarrassment. "We need to focus on getting them home. Zatanna, you and Y/N can both do research together. CJ can help since he's the one who used it so he may remember some things from it."

Zatanna smiled faintly. "Sounds good. I’m gonna look into a few other things first, though. In the meantime, you might want to prepare yourself for a lot of questions, especially from Batman."

Conner groaned, clearly dreading the inevitable debrief. "Great."

"I have nothing to answer for," Y/N retorted. "I didn’t bring a bunch of kids from the future into the past."

"Maybe not, but you made them," Conner shot back.

"Oh, please. Like you didn’t have a hand in that."

"More than a hand," Artemis snickered.

CJ narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean by that?"

The entire room, as if rehearsed, answered in unison, "Nothing."

Y/N and Conner had no choice but to let the kids bunk in their rooms until they could figure out how to replicate the spell and send them back to the future. The children, after all, had vehemently refused to sleep in the lounge. CJ had opted to stay with Y/N, while Colin chose Conner's room. Camden, at first, didn’t show a preference, but eventually made his decision clear by reaching for Conner. Despite wanting to wipe the smug grin off Y/N’s face, Conner gave in without much protest.

However, Y/N found no peace, especially with CJ bombarding him with questions about their relationship:

"Have you and Dad gone on a first date yet?"

"No."

"Have you guys kissed yet?"

"No—I... That’s a grown folks' question."

"So, when do you think you'll go on a first date?"

"Do you have an off button?"

"Do I look like a toy from Target to you?"

"Damn, you really are my son."

"Bad word."

"Sorry."

"Why do you guys sleep in separate rooms? You have your own room together back home."

"Uh... what did I say about grown folks' questions?!"

The questions seemed endless. Despite Y/N growing increasingly tired, he found himself surprisingly unbothered. Normally, anything that disturbed his rest would drive him mad, but for some reason, he found it hard to get annoyed by CJ’s relentless curiosity. Perhaps he understood. If Y/N were in the kid’s shoes, he’d probably be asking a million questions too.

"Hey, Papa?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Does it ever end?

"Sure, kiddo," Y/N sighed, staring up at the rocky ceiling of his bedroom.

"What's the deal with you and Dad?"

Y/N froze, his eyes fixated on the ceiling as CJ’s innocent question hung in the air. He shouldn’t have been surprised, especially considering how sharp the kid was. This conversation was bound to happen at some point—though he would’ve preferred it to be later. He didn’t even know the answer himself.

What was the deal between him and Conner? That was the real question. The relationship was complicated, to say the least, and it was certainly not something Y/N was eager to explain to his future son. A nervous chuckle escaped his lips as he shifted on the bed, trying to buy himself some time. “That’s a... big question, kiddo.”

CJ, lying on his side, propped his head up on his hand, eyes wide with curiosity. “Yeah, but you guys love each other, right?”

Y/N gulped. Of course, the kid would jump straight to the heart of the matter. How was he supposed to answer that without messing up CJ’s perception of the future—or worse, letting his complicated feelings for Conner bubble to the surface in front of a child? He didn’t want to lie, but the truth... well, the truth was messy. And kids didn’t handle messy well.

“Well...” Y/N began, stalling as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Love is... complicated.”

CJ’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean by complicated?”

Y/N winced. Damn, these kids ask too many questions. He shifted again, trying to figure out how to tiptoe through this conversation. “I mean, sometimes people have... feelings for each other, but they don’t always know how to deal with them right away. Like, your dad and I... we argue a lot because we’re still figuring things out.”

CJ tilted his head, clearly not convinced. “But Auntie Z said you guys argue a lot in the future too. She said you love each other, but you’re both kinda... stubborn.”

Y/N pinched the bridge of his nose. Zatanna, I’m going to kill you. He sighed deeply, turning his head to look at CJ. “Yeah, that sounds about right. We’re both pretty stubborn. And when two people are like that, it takes them longer to... you know, get on the same page.”

CJ’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “So you do love each other!”

Y/N’s stomach flipped. He wanted to deny it, to downplay everything. But looking at CJ’s expectant face, he realized he couldn’t outright lie. He’d never been great at lying anyway. “It’s... complicated, like I said.”

CJ groaned, clearly frustrated with that answer. “You keep saying ‘complicated,’ but what does that even mean? Do you want to be with Dad?”

Y/N tensed, his heart racing. Okay, this is too much. “Uh... I think we should save this conversation for when you’re a little older, kid. Like, maybe a lot older. Or, you know, when you’re back in your timeline and it’s Future Me’s problem.”

CJ gave him an unimpressed look. “That’s a cop-out answer.”

Y/N snorted despite himself. “I... Who taught you that?”

“You did.”

“Of course I did,” Y/N muttered, shaking his head.

CJ wasn’t letting this go, and Y/N knew it. Y/N sighed, glancing back up at the ceiling, emotions stirring up that he wasn’t prepared to deal with. It wasn’t just complicated—it was a mess, a tangled web of miscommunication, stubbornness, and unspoken feelings that spanned the years since he joined the Team. He thought back to when he first arrived, how Dr. Fate had sensed the raw potential in him and demanded that he go under the Justice League's protection. Y/N didn’t have much of a choice back then, and neither did the Team when they were told he’d be joining.

At first, it wasn’t so bad. Y/N got along with everyone easily, even found a mentor in Zatanna and Zatara who was still being used as a host by Dr. Fate which is how he found him in the first place.

 But Conner? Conner was different. It was as though the Kryptonian had built a wall the size of Metropolis between them, remaining cold and indifferent despite Y/N’s attempts to connect. Y/N hadn’t expected to become best friends overnight, but the sheer lack of acknowledgment hurt more than he let on. He remembered how Conner would barely look in his direction, like Y/N didn’t exist, even though he treated everyone else like family.

It was confusing, especially when Y/N noticed how Conner always positioned himself near him during missions—ready to intervene but never willing to share a word afterward. That subtle protectiveness should’ve been reassuring, but it drove Y/N mad. If Conner didn’t care, why hover around him like some kind of silent guardian?

After months of trying, Y/N finally gave up. He mirrored the cold treatment, stopped reaching out, and focused on the rest of the team. But then, something shifted. The moment Y/N stopped trying, Conner started. The once silent indifference turned into sharp comments and antagonistic behavior. It was like Conner needed to get a rise out of him, and no one could push Conner’s buttons the way Y/N could.

Pretty soon, they were constantly at each other's throats (sometimes literally), bickering over the smallest things. Everyone else just rolled their eyes and let them sort it out, but the tension between them was palpable.

Looking back now, Y/N wondered if something had always been simmering beneath the surface, something neither of them knew how to admit. Maybe Conner’s way of dealing with whatever feelings he had was to push Y/N away, to lash out. Y/N wasn’t sure what scared him more—the idea that Conner never cared or the possibility that he cared too much and didn’t know how to handle it.

And now, faced with a future version of himself that had apparently figured it out, Y/N was stuck in a mess of emotions that defined their present. The thought made his chest tighten, and he shook his head, trying to push it aside. He wasn’t ready to untangle all of that just yet, especially not with CJ watching him, waiting for answers.

He glanced over at the kid, still staring at him with a mix of confusion and determination.

“Look, CJ, it’s... complicated,” Y/N repeated, knowing it was a weak excuse. “Your dad and I have a lot of history, and a lot of that is... well, not great. It’s a work in progress.”

The room fell silent for a moment, and Y/N hoped the interrogation was over. He closed his eyes, trying to relax, but CJ’s voice cut through the peace again.

“So... if you’re not together yet, does that mean I could mess it up by being here?” CJ’s voice was quieter this time, tinged with genuine concern.

Y/N’s heart sank. He hadn’t expected that. “Hey, no, no—nothing like that,” he said quickly, turning to face CJ. “You being here isn’t going to mess anything up. Don’t ever think that.”

CJ’s big eyes looked up at him, full of uncertainty. “But what if Colin, Camden, and I being here changes things? What if you and Dad aren’t meant to be together because of us? I don’t want to mess up your future.”

Y/N felt a pang in his chest. He could see how much CJ cared, how much this meant to him. The kid didn’t want to lose the family he had, and Y/N couldn’t blame him. Hell, Y/N didn’t know what the future held between him and Conner, but seeing CJ so worried made him realize just how important that future was—to these kids, at least.

He placed a hand on CJ’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile. “CJ, listen. No matter what happens, you three aren’t going to change what’s meant to be, okay? Whether your dad and I figure things out now or later, that’s up to us. But you don’t need to worry about it.”

CJ’s expression softened slightly, but he still seemed unsure. “You promise?”

Y/N hesitated for a second, then nodded. “I promise.”

CJ studied his father for a long moment, then let out a sigh of relief and flopped back onto the bed. “Okay, if you say so.”

Y/N smirked, feeling like he’d defused the situation—until CJ spoke again.

“But seriously, you guys need to hurry up and kiss. You’re taking forever.”

Y/N groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god, please stop.”

CJ giggled, clearly pleased with himself. “Well, it’s true. You’re way more lovey-dovey in the future. Like, gross sometimes.”

Y/N pulled his hands away from his face, narrowing his eyes at the boy. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

CJ shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face.

Y/N rolled his eyes, turning back to the ceiling. He tried not to think about the fact that his future self was apparently a lot more affectionate with Conner, or the fact that CJ was clearly comfortable with it.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across his cheeks. This was going to be a long night.

Just as the eleven-year-old finally appeared to be settling down, a knock at Y/N’s door pierced the growing calm. He couldn’t mask the annoyance in his grunt as he called out for whoever was there to enter.

The door opened to reveal Conner, struggling to soothe a fussy Camden, with Colin in tow. Both Kryptonians looked exhausted, their matching bed-heads and disgruntled grimaces completing the picture.

Y/N was caught off guard by the endearing yet disheveled sight of them—Conner in his casual home attire, with Colin standing by his side like a shadow, and Camden, a perfect blend of Y/N’s and Conner’s features, in his arms. The scene felt surprisingly right.

“He won’t stop crying and fussing,” Conner explained, his voice tinged with fatigue. “I’ve tried everything. I think he wants to sleep with you.”

Taking Camden into his arms, Y/N immediately felt the toddler relax. “What’s up, buddy? Is your Daddy keeping you up with all his grumbling?”

“I didn’t do anything! He was fine half an hour ago, then he woke up crying. When I tried to calm him down, he just got fussier and started calling for his 'Papa’ over and over.”

CJ, from his spot on the bed, chimed in, “He probably had a nightmare. It’s hard for him to go back to sleep afterward.”

“And how do we get him back to sleep?” Conner asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

“He usually sleeps in bed with you,” CJ answered.

“He was already doing that, and it didn’t help,” Conner replied, clearly exhausted.

“With both of you,” CJ clarified.

Y/N and Conner exchanged stunned looks, the suggestion hanging awkwardly in the air. “Uh, are you sure there’s no other way to calm him down?” Y/N asked, his voice laced with hesitation as he and Conner avoided each other’s gaze.

“Nope. So, scoot over and make some room,” Colin said, settling the matter with a tone that brokered no argument. With a reluctant shuffle, Y/N and CJ made room on the bed, both Y/N and Conner still clearly uncomfortable with the closeness but willing to do what was needed for the youngest Kent.

As they settled into an awkward silence, Camden, now nestled between them, began to quiet down, his sniffles subsiding as he felt the reassuring presence of both his parents. The soft glow of the nightlight spell Y/N conjured cast gentle shadows across the room, softening the edges of the tense atmosphere.

“Well, ain’t this cozy,” Y/N quipped, trying to cut through the awkwardness with a bit of humor. Conner just grunted in response, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, clearly wrestling with the intimacy of the situation.

CJ and Colin, seated toward the middle of the bed between their parents’ legs, watched the scene with knowing looks. “You guys are really weird about this,” CJ commented, shaking his head. “You do this all the time back home.”

Conner sighed, his gruff tone betraying his discomfort. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly 'back home,’ kid.”

CJ shrugged, then finally settled down, his eyes growing heavier as the night’s events took their toll. Conner, still visibly uncomfortable, shifted slightly, turning on his side to face away from Y/N, while Y/N remained on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The room fell into a profound silence, the only sounds being the gentle breathing of the boys as they finally succumbed to sleep.

In the dim light, Y/N and Conner lay awake, each lost in their own thoughts. The physical closeness, necessitated by Camden’s need for comfort, forced them into a proximity neither had anticipated—at least not under these circumstances. As the minutes dragged into hours, neither spoke. The air between them was thick with confusion, unresolved tension, and an undeniable sense of familial bond that neither could quite embrace nor deny.

Y/N’s mind raced with a mix of future possibilities and present discomforts. He turned his head slightly, glancing at Conner’s back and noting the tension in his shoulders. The fact that they could be a family—a real family, with laughs, fights, bedtime stories, and morning cuddles—felt absurd. Yet, somehow, it also felt right, in a way that scared him.

It was a future that felt like a dream, one so vivid during sleep but absurdly distant upon waking.

Conner, for his part, was equally conflicted. The physical presence of Y/N so close yet so far in spirit was jarring. He was used to tackling problems head-on, not lying silently next to them. The warmth from Y/N’s body, the sound of his breathing, and the soft rustle of sheets each time he moved—all served as acute reminders of what could be—a future intertwined with Y/N, a man he had known as a teammate but never as something more.

As Camden shifted in his sleep, mumbling softly and curling closer to Y/N, Conner let out a soft sigh. This was what family felt like—messy, uncomfortable, yet filled with unexpected moments of tenderness.

Fate was a cruel thing to dangle something so perfect right next to him, knowing that once this night was over, it would be back to reality.

The night stretched on, and though sleep tugged at their eyelids, both Y/N and Conner resisted, each caught in their own whirlwind of thoughts. They remained awake, guardians of the quiet peace that had settled over their children, protectors of a future still unwritten.

Finally, as the first hints of dawn crept through the curtains, signaling a new day, Y/N and Conner allowed themselves a moment of rest. Their eyes closed, not out of comfort with each other, but from sheer exhaustion. The sun would rise on two men still unsure of their path forward, but for now, they were bound by a shared responsibility and an unspoken commitment to the well-being of the children who had started the process of slowly bringing them together.

The next morning, Y/N and Conner were greeted by three simultaneous realizations. The first was the peculiar sensation of being surrounded on all sides—Y/N found CJ and Camden clinging to him like koalas, while Conner awoke to the unpleasant surprise of a foot in his face and a toe nearly up his nose, courtesy of Colin.

The second realization came when they noticed how close they had ended up to each other during the night, their bodies naturally gravitating together as if seeking warmth in the pile of kids nestled between them. It was a proximity neither had planned for, yet somehow, in the night’s deep silence, it didn’t feel… wrong.

Didn’t stop them from trying to scoot away from each other, though.

The third and most jarring realization came when the sound of cooing and giggling shattered the morning calm. Y/N blinked his eyes open, adjusting to the bright lights, only to see Zatanna, Artemis, Dick, and Wally gathered at the doorway, barely containing their laughter, smartphones in hand.

“What the—” Y/N started, his voice groggy and laced with confusion.

“Morning, sunshine!” Dick greeted with a smirk, snapping pictures as quickly as possible. “Don’t you all look nice and cozy?”

“It’s not every day we see such a picturesque family moment,” Zatanna added, her tone dripping with mock sweetness.

Conner, fully awake now, grimaced as he gently removed Colin’s foot from his face. “Can you guys not?” he muttered, trying to salvage some dignity.

Y/N, who, like many others, was not a fan of being photographed first thing in the morning, shot a glare at the group. “You all better consider yourselves lucky I’m still half-asleep. Otherwise, you’d all be something I could swat at right about now.”

Artemis, unfazed, grinned. She knew Y/N wouldn’t hurt a fly (unless it was an actual fly), especially not his friends.

Dick, on the other hand, was not so confident and took a cautious step back, just in case.

Wally, always the instigator, couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease one of his closest friends. He leaned against the doorframe, a mischievous grin on his face. “So, how was your night, lovebirds? Get up to anything interesting?”

Colin rubbed his eyes groggily, blinking up at Wally from his spot on the bed. “What do you mean by ‘interesting’?” he asked, his voice innocent but filled with curiosity.

Without missing a beat, everyone—Y/N, Conner, Dick, Artemis, Zatanna, and Wally—responded in unison, “Nothing.”

Colin blinked again, clearly not satisfied but too sleepy to push further. He shrugged it off, snuggling back into the blankets.

“Anyway,” Dick started, his tone slightly more serious, “Batman’s here. He’s waiting for you and your ‘guests’ in the mission room.”

Y/N groaned, the dread immediately washing over him. “Oh, come on. This early?”

“Batman doesn’t sleep, Y/N,” Zatanna quipped, smirking as she crossed her arms.

The kids, on the other hand, perked up at the mention of Batman. CJ’s eyes lit up with excitement, and he nearly launched himself out of bed. “Uncle Bruce is here?!” he exclaimed, practically bouncing in place. “We get to meet him in his prime!”

Colin’s face mirrored his brother’s excitement. “Yeah! We’ve never seen Uncle Bruce younger than when he was old and retired!”

Y/N winced, rubbing his temples. “Great. Because that’s exactly what I needed today. Batman in his prime.” He glanced at Conner, who was already starting to untangle himself from the bed and the web of blankets.

Conner met his gaze, both of them instantly realizing the same thing: one of them was going to have to explain this entire situation to the Batman. Neither looked eager to volunteer.

Y/N groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, uh... you're explaining this to Batman, right? Cool, great!” he said, trying to shift the burden onto Conner.

Conner shot him a sidelong glance as he finally freed himself from Colin’s grasp. “Why should I explain it? You’re the one who created the damn spell. This is on you.”

"Ah, future me did that. Present me, on the other hand, has done no such thing. So, therefore, this falls on you. See, math," Y/N said with his usual sarcastic tone. “And I didn’t bring three kids from the future back here. That’s not on me!”

“Oh, but I’m not their only father, am I?” Conner shot back, keeping his voice as low as possible but still sharp.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, so when it’s convenient for you to use the father title, now you want to use it? Yesterday you were acting like it was some cosmic mistake!”

As the bickering continued, Wally leaned over to Artemis and muttered with a grin, "Man, they’re already nailing the divorced parents thing. Ten out of ten performance."

Artemis smirked, not missing a beat. “Yeah, all that’s missing is the custody battle.”

“I didn’t say—” Conner started, but CJ, who had been watching the whole exchange, interrupted with an amused but exasperated tone.

“You know, if you guys are trying to keep quiet, you’re not doing a very good job,” he pointed out, his voice deadpan as he hopped off the bed.

Both men stopped mid-bicker, realizing the volume of their conversation had escalated. They shared a brief, awkward silence before Y/N sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Right. Sorry, CJ.”

“Are we going or what?” Colin asked, looking ready to sprint toward the mission room, his excitement bubbling over.

Conner grumbled under his breath as he pulled his shirt on, shooting Y/N another look. “I’m still not explaining it.”

Y/N threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine! I’ll explain it to Batman. But if he glares a hole through my head, I’m holding you responsible.”

“Deal,” Conner muttered as he turned to usher the kids toward the door.

Wally, who had been watching the entire exchange with great amusement, shook his head. “You guys are so much fun in the mornings. Really sets the tone for the day.”

Y/N shot him a half-hearted glare. “Wally, if you don’t stop talking, I will personally turn you into a decorative garden gnome.”

Wally just grinned wider, following the group as they headed out. "Try me, magic boy."

As they all made their way down the hall, CJ and Colin buzzed with excitement at the prospect of meeting the Dark Knight in his prime, while Y/N mentally prepared himself for what was sure to be a long conversation with Batman.

When they arrived at the mission room, Batman stood with his arms crossed, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Superman and Dr. Fate flanked him, both with differing reactions already written across their faces. Superman wore a look of quiet curiosity, while Dr. Fate’s imposing helmet tilted slightly, as if analyzing every moment with critical intensity.

Y/N barely had time to feel the weight of their combined presence before a chorus of "Uncle Bruce!" filled the room, followed by the stampede of three excited children. CJ, Colin, and Camden rushed past Y/N and Conner, crashing into Batman with a level of enthusiasm normally reserved for holidays.

Batman barely moved, standing firm as three small bodies collided with him. His expression never wavered from his usual deadpan. He looked down at the kids clinging to his legs and tugging at his cape like it was any other Tuesday.

"Hello, boys," he greeted, his voice even, betraying no emotion.

"Uncle Bruce, you're so young!" CJ exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Yeah, you're not old and retired yet," Colin chimed in, his tone equally awestruck.

Camden, meanwhile, had attached himself to Batman's leg, refusing to let go. "Bat Bat," the toddler babbled, his voice muffled against the fabric of the suit as he began his usual routine of climbing up the grown man who, once again, was not fazed by the action.

A chorus of "Awws" echoed from behind Y/N, as Artemis and Zatanna both cooed at the sight of the two-year-old climbing all over Batman like a jungle gym. Meanwhile, Conner stood there, his arms crossed tightly as he watched his youngest son cling to the Dark Knight, not feeling a slight ounce of jealousy at the sight. Not one bit...

Y/N exchanged a glance with Conner, both of them unsure how to proceed. Batman’s piercing gaze and silent command made it clear someone needed to start explaining. But the Dark Knight simply looked back at the three of them, his expression unreadable, as if a trio of future children showing up out of nowhere was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Uncle Bruce! Can we see the Batcave later?" Colin asked, practically vibrating with excitement.

Batman merely raised an eyebrow under his cowl. “We’ll see.”

Y/N’s nervousness spiked. The fact that Batman was completely unfazed made him even more anxious. The Dark Knight was known for his cold efficiency and intimidating nature, but this calm acceptance of three kids who claimed to be the future children of his two protégés felt... ominous.

Superman, on the other hand, chuckled warmly as the boys shifted their attention to him.

“Uncle Clark!” Colin shouted, springing off the ground into the air toward the Man of Steel with just as much enthusiasm. “You still look the same, but somehow still young. That's so cool!"

Y/N, Conner, and pretty much everyone else in the room (except for Batman) stared in utter shock, watching the eight-year-old hover in the air next to Superman, who also looked a bit surprised.

"Is he—" Wally started, his eyes wide.

"Flying?" Artemis finished, her mouth hanging open.

"You can fly," Conner stated, his voice a mix of astonishment and confusion.

"Well, duh," Colin said, rolling his eyes. "Dad and Uncle Clark showed me how. Uncle Clark, look at this trick I learned," he added with an excited grin.

Before anyone could react, Colin rocketed upward, performing a flawless loop in the air, zipping in a spiral before descending slowly to hover near Superman. His face radiated pride, clearly relishing the opportunity to show off his flying skills. Superman watched him, still a bit stunned, but with a warm, amused smile on his face.

"Ta-da!" Colin shouted, floating back down beside him, his excitement undiminished. He began circling around Superman. "Do you not age because you're Kryptonian? Wow, I can't wait to be strong and ancient to!"

Superman chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Colin's hair. "I'll take that as a compliment," he said, his voice light but tinged with curiosity. "So, this is what the future looks like for you guys, huh?"

Colin grinned, nodding enthusiastically. "Yep! And you’re still the strongest! I can't wait to show you some more tricks."

As Colin continued to hover, defying gravity with ease, Conner stood frozen. He hadn’t moved, his gaze locked on his son as he watched him hover so effortlessly. A strange tightness formed in his chest, bittersweet and unspoken. Colin could fly. Not with the assistance of a shield like him, but on his own. Part of Conner felt immense pride, but another part couldn’t help but feel that uncomfortable tightness deepen—a sense of longing for something he couldn’t quite articulate.

"He can fly," Conner muttered, catching the attention of CJ, who was watching his brother show off with an annoyed expression that softened when he saw his dad's reaction.

"Yeah, we found out just after Colin turned about five. That was a fun day for you two, especially since you had to chase him around the house for hours. He thought it was hilarious, but you and Papa weren’t too happy," CJ explained, his voice softer than usual.

Conner, still a bit stunned, nodded slowly. "That sounds... fun," he said, his tone lacking enthusiasm.

CJ looked like he wanted to say more, but his Aunt Zatanna's warning and the thoughts from his conversation last night with his Papa loomed over him. Instead, he decided to change the subject.

"So, um, yeah, that's Colin—middle kid," he said, turning back to his uncles, hoping to shift the conversation.

"What about you?" Superman asked, turning his attention to CJ.

"I'm Conner Kent Junior, or CJ for short. I'm the oldest and the leader of our team," CJ replied, puffing his chest out a bit.

Everyone chuckled softly, except for Batman, though, for the smallest sliver of a moment, the corner of his lip upturned into a tiny smirk.

"And that's Camden, the youngest," CJ continued, gesturing to the toddler who was now perched on Batman's shoulder, playing with the pointed ears of his mask.

"Bat Bat," Camden repeated, his adorable smile plastered all over his face.

"Yes, I am," Batman said, his voice as flat as ever, but his expression softened just a little.

Y/N turned, catching Conner’s gaze, which remained fixed on Colin, who was still hovering effortlessly in the air. The look on Conner’s face—bittersweet and filled with a mix of pride and something else Y/N couldn’t quite place—tugged at him. It wasn’t often Conner wore his heart on his sleeve, but in this moment, the unspoken emotion in his eyes was impossible to miss.

Y/N found himself feeling something unexpected—a sudden, quiet protectiveness. It wasn’t just about Colin flying, but the realization that Conner was watching a part of his son that he could never truly share. There was no jealousy or bitterness in Y/N's own heart, only a desire to make sure Conner knew that he wasn’t alone in this, that Y/N understood.

He cleared his throat softly, stepping closer to Colin, who was still circling around Superman in excited loops. “Alright, Colin, time to come down.”

Colin, his face flushed with excitement, ignored him at first. “But Papa, I haven’t shown Uncle Clark the trick where I—”

“I said down, Colin,” Y/N interrupted, his voice taking on a particular tone. A tone he probably inherited from his own parent—the one that could stop him in his tracks as a kid, and evidently, one that worked on Colin too.

Colin froze mid-loop, his defiant expression faltering for a moment as he hovered a few feet above the ground. “But—”

“Now,” Y/N added, his voice firm yet still gentle, his gaze unwavering.

With a dramatic sigh that only an eight-year-old could muster, Colin slowly descended to the ground, landing lightly on his feet. “Fine, fine,” he muttered, crossing his arms and scowling slightly. “I was just having fun…”

Y/N smiled softly, crouching down so he was eye-level with his son. “You can show Uncle Clark more later, okay? Right now, we need to focus.”

Colin huffed but nodded, the defiance in his eyes giving way to a grudging understanding. He glanced up at Superman, who gave him an encouraging nod, and then back at his dad, the scowl easing from his face.

“Good,” Y/N said, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Thanks, kiddo.”

As Colin sulked back to his brothers, Y/N straightened, his gaze shifting back to Conner, who had been watching the exchange silently. There was a flicker of something in Conner’s eyes—surprise, maybe? Or perhaps a quiet gratitude that Y/N had stepped in, that he understood without needing Conner to say anything.

For a moment, Y/N hesitated, feeling the weight of the unspoken between them. It was strange, this sudden need to make sure Conner was okay. Usually, they were too busy pushing each other's buttons, too wrapped up in their own frustrations. But now, seeing the vulnerability in Conner’s expression, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the tug of something... different.

“You good?” Y/N asked quietly, his voice low so the kids wouldn’t hear.

Conner blinked, as if caught off guard by the question. His eyes flicked from Y/N to Colin, then back again. “Yeah,” he said after a moment, though his voice was softer than usual, almost contemplative. “I’m fine.”

Y/N gave him a small, almost imperceptible nod. He didn’t press further, didn’t want to push. Instead, he let the silence between them linger, a silence that felt strangely comfortable for once, even with all the chaos surrounding them.

For a split second, the air between them felt... less heavy. Less filled with the usual tension. There was no sarcastic retort, no biting comment. Just... an understanding.

But before either of them could dwell on the moment, CJ, ever the instigator, piped up with his usual boundless energy. “So, can we see the Batcave now?”

Batman’s stern voice cut through the room, as calm and composed as ever. “Later.”

CJ’s shoulders slumped dramatically. “Ugh, fine...”

After introductions were made, in true Batman fashion, he had DNA tests administered to confirm what Y/N, Conner, and all their friends already knew.

"The results are conclusive," Batman announced, his voice as stoic as ever. "Superboy and Y/N are both the paternal fathers to these children."

"Well, duh," Colin replied, rolling his eyes. "We told you that. But, what does paternal mean?"

"It means they're both our dads, dummy. And there's no need to be rude, Colin," CJ admonished, his tone exasperated. "It's not like we're lying."

"Stop calling me names! You're not the boss of me," Colin shot back, his cheeks flushing with anger.

"Actually, I am. I'm the oldest, so I'm the leader," CJ countered, his voice rising.

"No, you're not," Colin argued, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes, I am," CJ insisted, his temper flaring.

"No, you're not," Colin repeated, his voice growing louder.

"Yes, I am!" CJ yelled, his voice matching his brother's volume.

"Boys," Y/N warned, his voice firm.

"Sorry, Papa," CJ and Colin replied, their voices instantly contrite.

"I can't believe this is my life," Y/N groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"It's not so bad," Conner offered, his tone surprisingly gentle. "At least they're not fighting anymore."

Y/N let out a long, dramatic sigh, rubbing his face. “Fifteen hours ago, my life was normal. Now I have three kids from the future, and one of them’s trying to order around his brothers like he’s Batman.”

Superman chuckled warmly, offering Y/N a smile that somehow practically radiated paternal understanding. “It’s just the beginning, Y/N. You’ll get used to it. Eventually.”

"You got a kid I don't know about, Clarkie?" Y/N responded with a raised brow.

Superman returned his own raised brow at the nickname. "Clarkie?"

CJ turned his head toward the two men. "He calls you that all the time. Though, you seem a lot more surprised and annoyed about it now than you do in the future."

Y/N groaned while Clark chuckled at the kid's sharp observation.

"If this is what my mother meant by my kid being the karma to me for what I was to her, I want a do-over."

"Too late for that," Conner remarked, his lips quirking into a small, amused smile.

"Would you hush?" Y/N grumbled, shooting him a half-hearted glare.

“Well, I can't wait to see how we survive this,” Wally chimed in, shooting a look at CJ and Colin. “I mean, you’ve got two kids who are basically replicas of their parents, with an equal level of emotional control. One's trying to play leader, and the other... well, let’s just say I’m seeing Conner 2.0 with a side of ‘no chill.’”

Conner shot Wally a flat look but remained silent, his arms crossed as he watched Camden poke and prod at Batman’s suit. The toddler was giggling uncontrollably, practically hanging off Bruce’s arm, tugging at his cape like it was a new toy. Meanwhile, Batman stood perfectly still, as if he didn’t even notice. His expression remained unreadable, but there was something—just a hint—that suggested he wasn’t exactly unhappy with the tiny human attached to him.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Y/N muttered, glancing at Bruce’s unflinching demeanor. “A kid hanging off Batman, and he’s... not scowling. And here I am, trying to make sense of how this is somehow my life now or going to be my life in the future.”

Zatanna stifled a laugh, leaning against the wall. “It’s ironic, isn’t it? One day you’re acting like the kid, and the next you’re trying to manage three kids.”

“I don’t know whether to laugh or cry,” Y/N responded, glancing down at CJ, who was still trying his best to act like the "responsible" one, even if Colin was clearly not having it.

Artemis smirked. “Maybe both. We could use the entertainment.”

Y/N groaned. “I’m not here to entertain, Artemis.”

“You’re doing a great job of it, though,” she shot back with a grin.

Just as Y/N was about to respond, the door slid open, and M’Gann entered the room, holding a tray of snacks. Her presence caused an immediate shift in the room’s atmosphere. She smiled, but it was tight, strained even, her eyes flicking toward Y/N and the kids with clear unease. “I, uh, brought these for the kids,” she said, her voice polite but distant.

CJ, who was always quick to pick up on tension, noticed M’Gann’s discomfort and shot a wary glance at his brother. Colin, oblivious as ever, simply perked up at the sight of snacks. “Snacks! Finally!” he shouted, taking a step toward M’Gann’s tray, only to be yanked back by CJ’s firm grip.

Colin pouted but didn’t argue, instead crossing his arms and muttering, “I hate it when he acts like he’s the boss.”

Y/N couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the exchange. “You’re not helping, CJ,” he muttered under his breath before his attention shifted back to M’Gann, who stood awkwardly near the doorway, the boys clearly unsure how to approach her.

Wally, noticing the tension, tried to lighten the mood. “So, Camden looks pretty comfortable over there,” he quipped, gesturing toward the tiny toddler still clinging to Batman’s shoulder. “Who knew Bruce would be such a hit with kids?”

Camden giggled, poking Bruce in the cheek. “Bat Bat!”

Batman didn’t move, though Y/N could have sworn he saw the tiniest twitch of his lips. He wasn’t exactly scowling—and in Batman terms, that was practically a smile.

“I’ll be damned,” Y/N muttered. “Yeah, I’m definitely living in some weird alternate universe.”

M’Gann, however, remained tense, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. The kids seemed to pick up on her discomfort, and though Colin’s attention was still focused on the snacks, CJ’s eyes flicked nervously between her and Y/N. There was an awkward silence, the unspoken tension between M’Gann and the family hanging in the air.

Just as Y/N considered trying to say something, the atmosphere shifted dramatically, an intense, almost suffocating pressure filling the room.

"Ahem."

The weight of the room shifted, all eyes turning to Dr. Fate, his presence more imposing than ever with the golden cape draped over him, the helmet of Nabu gleaming ominously in the dim lighting. Giovanni Zatara's mortal voice was completely gone, replaced by the booming, ethereal tone of the Lord of Order. His deep voice reverberated off the walls, demanding attention.

"This situation is not to be taken lightly," Dr. Fate intoned, his words hanging heavy in the air. "The arrival of these children from a future timeline—brought here through magic—has the potential to disrupt the balance of time and space. The consequences of their presence could ripple through the past, present, and future, with devastating results."

The lighthearted energy in the room immediately deflated, the playful mood dashed away by Fate’s dire warning. Even Camden, perched on Batman’s shoulder, seemed to sense the seriousness of the moment, his babbling quieting as he curiously played with the pointed ears of Batman's cowl.

Superman’s easygoing smile faltered, his expression shifting into one of concern. “How bad are we talking?” he asked, his voice lower and more cautious now.

Fate’s helmet tilted ever so slightly, the glowing eyes narrowing. “Temporal magic is not only complex but perilous. The smallest disruption can lead to unforeseen consequences. The longer these children remain in the past, the more likely the timeline will fracture. Their very presence risks creating divergences—events that may never occur, or worse, events that should not happen but will.”

His gaze shifted to CJ, the weight of his words intensifying. “But of greater concern is the fact that a child of his age was able to perform such a powerful spell with no guidance or oversight from his father.” The glowing eyes behind the helm seemed to bore into Y/N, though the judgment lay with CJ. “No matter who taught him, such magic should not be wielded by one so young. It requires control, experience, and most importantly, restraint—qualities that take years, if not decades, to master. And yet, he succeeded in casting it.”

Y/N swallowed hard, his attention snapping to his son, who shifted nervously under Fate’s scrutiny. The weight of the implications settled over the room like a heavy fog. CJ, barely eleven, had performed a spell far beyond what should be possible for someone his age.

Fate’s voice remained steady, but there was a dark edge to it. “That a child of his age can even wield such power in casting a spell of that magnitude without proper teaching or supervision is concerning in itself. Magic of this level, cast without the necessary experience, is not only dangerous but reckless. The consequences of a misstep—of even the slightest deviation in its execution—could have been catastrophic.”

CJ bit his lip, his earlier enthusiasm fading under the weight of Fate’s words. He looked down, guilt flickering in his eyes, as Y/N’s stomach twisted with both concern and the unspoken pressure of responsibility.

Superman and Batman exchanged glances, the levity of the moment completely gone. Batman’s expression had hardened, though the toddler still clung to his shoulder, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“I didn’t mean to—” CJ began, his voice small, but Fate held up a hand, silencing him.

“Intent matters little when tampering with forces that defy time and space,” Fate continued, his voice resonating like an ancient echo. “The fact that you were able to do so speaks to an alarming raw power within you. A power that, without proper control, poses a threat to not only yourself but everyone around you.”

Y/N inhaled deeply, his heart heavy as he took in the full weight of what Fate was saying. His son—his eleven-year-old son—had tapped into something dangerous. And though Y/N had always known CJ had potential, this was... beyond anything he could have anticipated.

Fate’s eyes glowed even brighter, his voice growing more severe. “Raw power without discipline is more dangerous than any external threat. It is chaotic, unpredictable. You acted without full comprehension of the consequences, and that is not just reckless—it is irresponsible. Your abilities, if left unchecked, could tear the fabric of time itself.”

CJ’s shoulders hunched, his earlier confidence slipping away entirely. His eyes darted toward Y/N, then to the ground, his hands trembling slightly as he wrung them together. The weight of Fate’s words was pressing down on him, hard and unrelenting. He hadn’t meant to cause any harm, hadn’t realized just how dangerous his actions could be. The gravity of the situation—of potentially damaging the timeline and putting everyone he cared about at risk—was sinking in, fast.

Fate, however, didn’t let up. His voice echoed like thunder in the stillness of the room. “You are a child. A child with access to power that can upend entire realities. Do you understand the responsibility that comes with such abilities? You cast a spell beyond your understanding—beyond what should even be possible for someone your age—and in doing so, you’ve placed the timeline, and everyone within it, in jeopardy.”

Tears welled up in CJ’s eyes, his face crumpling as he tried to hold back the flood of emotions now overwhelming him. “I-I didn’t mean to... I just wanted to see you all... I just wanted to—” His voice broke, a sob escaping before he could stop it. He wiped at his eyes, trying to stay composed, but the guilt and fear were written all over his face.

Y/N’s heart clenched at the sight. Just the night before, he’d seen how worried CJ had been about messing things up, about somehow ruining the future for him and Conner. And now, Fate’s harsh words were doing exactly that—filling the kid with an unbearable sense of guilt. Y/N could feel it rising in him—an anger that came from a place deeper than usual, that soft protectiveness from before now something fierce he couldn’t ignore.

“That’s enough,” Y/N said, his voice sharper than anyone had heard it all day. He stepped forward, grabbing CJ and pulling the boy against him who immediately wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his side, desperately trying to hide his tears. “He’s just a kid, Fate. You’ve made your point.”

Colin made his way over to his brother to comfort him, a red hue in his irises as he looked ready to blow a hole through that helmet with his pointed glare at the sorcerer, matching the glowering expression on his father’s face as the Kryptonian also took his place beside the wizard and their two kids.

Fate’s glowing eyes bore down on Y/N, his voice unwavering. “A child or not, the consequences remain. The danger—”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed, his entire body tense as he held CJ protectively against him. His tone, usually layered with sarcasm or lightheartedness even in stressful moments, was now razor-sharp, the edge of it cutting through the air. It was the kind of tone that made everyone freeze, even Batman, who stood stoic but noticeably more alert, his eyes flicking to Y/N as if assessing an emerging threat.

“A child or not?” Y/N echoed, his voice dropping into something deadly quiet. “He’s a kid. And you think berating him, making him feel like he's already damned the timeline to hell is helping? He’s eleven years old, Fate. Eleven. You might not care about that, but I do. And I’ll tell you this right now: you will not make him feel like a walking disaster just because he made a mistake.”

Fate, despite his unearthly power and presence, seemed to register the shift in the atmosphere. He held his ground but didn't move forward, the glowing eyes behind the helm unreadable. “I speak only of the risks—”

“And I heard you,” Y/N interrupted, his voice still steady but with a bite that could cut through steel. “We all heard you. Loud and clear. But let me make one thing perfectly clear to you: if anyone thinks for a second that they can make my son feel like he’s some kind of ticking time bomb, they’ll have to go through me first. I don’t care if you’re wearing the Helm of Nabu, a cape, or a bat on your chest—no one, and I mean no one, gets to treat him like that.”

There was a heavy pause, the weight of Y/N’s words hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. Even Batman, who rarely showed hesitation or uncertainty, shifted slightly, his eyes flicking toward Superman as if silently communicating to be ready, just in case. Superman’s usually easygoing expression had hardened, though he was watching Y/N with a level of caution he typically reserved for far more volatile situations.

And Conner? His presence was something else entirely. If Y/N’s sharp, cutting words hadn’t been enough to put everyone on edge, Conner’s silent but simmering anger was enough to make the entire room feel ten degrees colder. His voice, when it came, was low—dangerously controlled. “You heard him,” he said, his hand resting protectively on the eleven-year-old’s shoulder. “He made a mistake, but he’s not going to stand here and be chewed out for something he didn’t fully understand. He’s our kid, Fate. Not one of your hosts that has to sit there and listen to you lecture them down.”

CJ looked up, eyes wide and brimming with tears, first at his dad and then at his papa. The anger in Conner’s voice wasn’t something he heard often—not directed like this. It was a quiet kind of anger, a controlled force that was all the more intense for how subdued it was. And that made CJ feel something else entirely: relief. Despite their obvious tense relationship in this timeline, his parents were standing up for him together, even in the face of someone as powerful as Fate.

Some things don't change even with time.

CJ sniffled quietly, his face still pressed into Y/N’s side, but it was clear the boy was taking comfort in the way both his parents stood there, a bit younger than he was used to, but still firm and unyielding. He knew the kind of power Dr. Fate held, knew that his presence alone could silence rooms, but right now, it was Y/N and Conner who were commanding the space.

Zatanna, Wally, Dick, Kaldur, and Artemis stood together, watching with bated breath as the tension in the room thickened. They had all felt a deep, instinctive protectiveness over these three since getting to know them—like an extension of their own makeshift family. But seeing Y/N and Conner, two of their closest friends, united in defense of their children? That was something else entirely. The raw intensity radiating from both men was a force of its own, sharper and more intimidating than any argument they’d ever had with each other. It was like watching two titans—formidable on their own—become unstoppable when their fury was aimed at a common enemy.

Even M’Gann, who had kept her distance from Y/N and the boys, couldn’t tear her eyes away. She crossed her arms, tension still visible in her posture, but the air crackled with something unspoken. Despite her unease, she couldn’t ignore the power shift happening right in front of them. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for what would happen next.

Fate’s eyes glowed brighter, but there was a brief hesitation now, as if weighing the situation. Beneath the room's tension, he could feel it—a subtle but undeniable pulse of magic rising in Y/N, simmering just beneath the surface, like a storm waiting to break. The potential that had long been sensed in him, untapped yet dangerous, now crackled in the air around him. The last thing Fate wanted was to turn someone as powerful as Y/N—given how potent his son’s magic already was—into an adversary or even a rival.

“You misunderstand—”

“No,” Y/N cut in again, sharper this time, his hand tightening around CJ’s shoulder protectively. “You misunderstand. I won’t let you stand there and intimidate my kid, make him feel like he’s already done irreversible damage just because he wanted to see his family. I get it—you’re worried about the timeline. Guess what? So are we. But if you try to guilt him, shame him, or talk to him like a liability again, I promise I will show you just how reckless I can be with my magic.”

It was the threat in Y/N’s voice—delivered in a tone that wasn’t raised, wasn’t shouted, but was filled with so much venom—that made everyone pause. Even Batman, who rarely reacted to emotional outbursts, visibly tensed. Y/N’s presence right now wasn’t just a protective father; it was something else, something primal. A warning.

Fate, still unmoving, regarded Y/N for a long moment, the glowing eyes behind the helm unreadable. Finally, the Lord of Order spoke, though his voice had lost some of its earlier authority, now more measured. “The consequences remain, but I will refrain from further...discussion. For now.”

“You’ll refrain permanently,” Y/N shot back, the edge still there. “I’m not asking.”

Conner’s eyes flicked between Fate and Y/N, his expression still cold but tempered by a quiet pride in the way Y/N had stepped up. He hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected Y/N to go full protective mode in a way that was somehow scarier than his own outbursts. But damn, was it effective.

After another long, tense silence, Fate finally stepped back, his glowing eyes dimming slightly as if in reluctant acceptance. “Very well. But understand this: time cannot be ignored. The longer they remain, the more unstable the timeline becomes.”

“Yeah, we get it,” Conner replied, his voice low but steely. “We’ll fix it. But don’t think for a second that we won’t protect them every step of the way.”

Fate’s gaze lingered on them for a moment longer before he turned away, his cape billowing as he floated back slightly, allowing the tension in the room to ease, if only by a fraction. Batman, still standing with Camden on his shoulder, exchanged a glance with Superman, made a motion for them to intervene now.

Superman cleared his throat softly, stepping forward with a more diplomatic tone. “Alright, let’s all take a breath. We’ve got a situation to handle, and we’re all on the same side here.”

Y/N didn’t respond, his eyes still locked on Fate for another moment before he finally exhaled, the tension in his posture easing as he turned his attention back to CJ, his voice softening instantly as he murmured to his son. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

CJ sniffled again, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, still clinging tightly to Y/N’s side. “I-I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” Y/N whispered, pulling him close. “I know you didn’t.”

Conner knelt down beside CJ, his large hand gently resting on the boy’s back. “You’re not in trouble,” he reassured him quietly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

CJ nodded, still visibly upset but calming under the combined presence of his parents.

And as the room began to shift back to a more measured tone, Y/N exchanged a glance with Conner, a silent understanding passing between them. For all their bickering and back-and-forths, they were united in this.

For now, at least, the storm had passed. But the underlying tension remained, and everyone in the room knew one thing for certain: you can poke at Y/N and Conner, but their kids? That was a line you should never cross.

After their little confrontation with Fate, and managing to calm CJ down enough, Y/N and Zatanna along with the eleven-year-old wizard headed off to their study to start doing research on the spell future Y/N created so they could send the kids back home. CJ was more than happy to be getting quality time with his magical father and aunt, completely forgetting his dour mood from before.

The rest of the group split off to the their own quests and whatnots while Batman and Fate stayed behind in the mission room to discuss a bit more. Meanwhile, Conner along with Colin and a giggly Camden who was now hanging off a Superman's shoulder, playing with his cape made their way to the lounge area so the kids could have some breakfast.

As they stepped into the living area, the atmosphere shifted slightly. It was still tense, but there was a quiet comfort that came with being away from the others, especially with the kids now more focused on food than the overwhelming situation they were all thrown into. Colin, his hair tousled and his eyes full of curiosity, plopped himself down at the dining table and immediately began stuffing his face with the nearest food he could find, which happened to be a stack of waffles. Camden, ever the cheerful toddler, giggled uncontrollably as he played with Superman’s cape, his tiny hands tugging at it like it was his new favorite toy.

Conner, however, was lost in his own thoughts. He leaned against the counter, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as he watched the kids. Colin’s carefree attitude was a stark contrast to the weight on his own shoulders, and he couldn't help but feel conflicted. It was strange—looking at these kids who were supposed to be his, knowing they came from a future that felt so far removed from his current reality.

Clark, noticing the heavy silence, walked over to the counter where Conner stood. His cape fluttered slightly as Camden continued to swing from it, but the Man of Steel didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he offered Conner a small, knowing smile.

“You seem quieter than usual,” Clark observed, his tone gentle but probing. “What’s on your mind?”

Conner let out a deep sigh, his gaze shifting to Camden, who was still laughing at Superman’s cape antics. “This whole thing... It’s just a lot to take in. I mean, I’ve barely figured out my own life, and now I’ve got three kids from the future showing up, acting like we’re some happy family.”

Clark nodded, his expression understanding. “It’s overwhelming, I’m sure. But they seem to know you—both of you—pretty well. You and Y/N. There’s... a lot of history there, and not just the tension we’ve all seen. There’s more to it, isn’t there?”

Conner stiffened slightly at the mention of Y/N. He wasn’t ready to dive into that just yet, but Clark’s gentle prodding was hard to ignore.

“Yeah,” Conner muttered, his voice tight. “History.”

Clark’s brow furrowed. “You want to talk about it?”

Conner hesitated, his arms uncrossing as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t the type to talk about his feelings, not even with Clark, but something about the situation—the kids, the unexpected future they were facing—made it harder to stay silent.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Conner admitted quietly, his eyes drifting to Camden, who had now taken a seat next to Colin and was trying (unsuccessfully) to eat a waffle without dropping syrup all over himself. “I mean... I had things figured out. M’Gann and I... We were good. Comfortable.”

Clark nodded slowly, letting him speak at his own pace.

“And then Y/N showed up,” Conner continued, his voice almost a whisper now. “Out of nowhere. And everything changed. I didn’t... I didn’t expect to feel anything for him. I thought I had my life planned out, you know? M’Gann and I... we were supposed to be the future. But then he came along and it was just...”

Clark’s gaze softened as he watched Conner wrestle with his thoughts. “Sudden?”

Conner nodded. “Yeah. And confusing. I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t even want to handle it.”

Clark remained quiet for a moment, letting the silence between them settle before he spoke again. “I know what it’s like to have everything you think you know shaken up. Feelings can be... complicated. And sudden, like you said. But that doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

Clark remained quiet for a moment, letting the silence between them settle before he spoke again. “I know what it’s like to have everything you think you know shaken up. Feelings can be... complicated. And sudden, like you said. But that doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

He paused, his gaze softening. "You know, when you first came into our lives, it was a shock—especially for me. No one expected it, the way you were discovered, and suddenly becoming a part of my life that I didn't know how to accept. And because of that, I wasn’t... exactly welcoming, was I?" Clark’s voice grew quieter, the regret in his tone unmistakable. "I didn’t handle it well at all. I remember Batman trying to have this talk with me about how I needed to be there for you, cause the transition you were going through was tough, but I didn't want to listen. It made me uncomfortable—angry even—and I let that get in the way of treating you the way you deserved."

Clark’s voice faltered slightly, the weight of those memories heavy. "I distanced myself. I barely talked to you, and when I did, it was cold, indifferent. And I know that hurt you. I can see now how much of a toll that took on you." He looked Conner in the eye, the sincerity in his expression clear.

Conner shifted uncomfortably at the memory, the wound of Clark’s initial indifference still raw even after all these years. His fists clenched slightly as Clark continued.

"And because of that," Clark added gently, "I pushed you away. I made you feel like you weren’t wanted, like you didn’t belong. That’s on me and I was wrong to do that. Now, this whole interesting scenario and being a witness to some of you and Y/N's expressive disagreements, I'm wondering if, in a way, you were doing the same thing to Y/N that I did to you." His tone wasn’t accusatory, but the weight of his words hung between them. "You and I... we’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we? What I’m saying is, sometimes the most unexpected blessings come from the most unexpected places."

Conner’s jaw tightened, his gaze shifting to the table where Colin was still busy devouring his waffles. The kid looked so carefree, so unaffected by the tension in the air.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” Conner admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Being a dad... being with Y/N... It’s all too much.”

As if sensing the weight of the conversation, Colin paused mid-bite and glanced up at his dad and uncle.

Colin smiled, his eyes bright. "Dad, can I have some apple juice?"

Conner blinked, the question catching him off guard. "Uh, yeah. Sure." He turned, grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it with the apple juice from the fridge. He handed it to Colin, who took it eagerly.

"Thank you!" Colin chirped, taking a sip.

Conner watched Colin, his eyes narrowing as the boy eagerly drank his juice, his messy dark hair falling into his eyes. The kid was a near replica of Y/N—sharp features, the same mischievous grin, and that glint of playful defiance. But even with all of Y/N’s traits so clearly stamped on his face, Conner could see bits of himself too. In the way Colin held himself, a certain stubbornness, and the unmistakable spark of defiance in his eyes that promised trouble wherever he turned. The thought made him both proud, and a little nervous. It was like looking into a mirror, one that reflected not just his own past but Y/N's influence as well, creating something that was uniquely theirs.

As Conner’s thoughts swirled, Camden toddled over, his tiny feet padding against the floor as he made his way to his father. Without warning, Camden jumped up, grabbing onto Conner's arm with a delighted giggle. Conner caught him easily, his big hand wrapping protectively around his youngest son as Camden snuggled against him, giggling softly. The warmth of the moment momentarily pulled Conner out of his anxious thoughts, grounding him in the simplicity of Camden’s affection. Less than 24 hours and the move was almost instinctive—the way he cradled Camden close, his strong arms wrapping around the small boy like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Clark, standing nearby, observed the scene with a faint smile. The ease with which Conner held Camden, the tenderness in his normally stoic expression—it was a side of him Clark rarely saw. It was a glimpse of something deeper, something real and undeniable. "Well, I wouldn't use the word ready, seeing as you're still young and have a lot to learn, from this point of view, you seem just fine to me," Clark commented softly, his voice filled with pride and reassurance. Conner looked over at his mentor, the weight of his worries momentarily lifting as he realized, despite everything, this—being a father—might not be as overwhelming as it seemed.

Clark’s smile softened, and he straightened himself out from his crouched position over the counter, “No one’s ever ready. But that doesn’t mean you’re not capable of handling it. You’ve always been stronger than you think, Conner. And look at them—” He gestured to Colin and Camden, who were now both completely focused on the plate of food in front of them. “You’ve done something right if these two turned out this way.”

Colin, oblivious to the compliment, wiped syrup from his chin and glanced up again. “Dad, you think too much,” he said plainly, as if stating an obvious fact.

Conner blinked in surprise, and Clark let out a soft laugh. “Out of the mouths of babes.”

Colin, sensing he was being teased, shot a quick glare at his uncle before turning back to his plate. “Papa says the same thing. You’re always thinking and not saying how you feel. Maybe you should try that. Just... you know, say what you’re thinking.”

Conner stared at his son for a moment, the kid’s words sinking in. It wasn’t just a child’s naive observation—it was Y/N’s influence. Y/N had always been the one to push him, to force him to face things he didn’t want to. And now, even through their future children, that push was still there, urging him to stop hiding and start feeling.

“I’ll think about it,” Conner finally said, his voice softer now, more thoughtful.

Colin nodded as if that was enough, shoving another bite of waffle into his mouth.

Clark stood up, giving Conner a knowing look. “That’s all anyone can ask for.”

Conner didn’t reply, but the weight in his chest felt a little lighter. For the first time since the kids had arrived, he didn’t feel completely overwhelmed. It wasn’t easy—nothing ever was when it came to his feelings, especially when Y/N was involved—but maybe, just maybe, he could figure it out.

The kids kept eating, and for the first time that morning, the tension in the air seemed to ease. There were still questions left unanswered, still emotions to sort through, but for now, Conner let himself breathe. Clark’s words, and Colin’s surprisingly wise insight, lingered with him.

Maybe he had been thinking too much. Maybe it was time to start doing.

Conner stood outside the study Zatanna and Y/N used to study and practice their magic, his hand hovering over the knob. He stood frozen just in front of the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob as he listened to the low murmur of voices from inside. His pulse quickened as he took a deep breath, steeling himself. He knew he couldn't avoid Y/N forever, but the thought of facing him, of confronting the mess of emotions swirling in his chest, was almost too much.

It had been a few hours since his conversation with Superman and the advice from his middle son, and already it felt like his courage was slipping away, drowning under the weight of old insults, arguments, and uncertainty. The thought of facing Y/N, of peeling back the layers of resentment they had built up over time, felt like an insurmountable task.

He'd already been by 15 minutes earlier, coming to grab CJ so the kid could also eat before heading back to help his Papa and Aunt with the spell to return them to their original timeline. But something about seeing Y/N, the look he'd been giving him since this morning, made Conner hesitate in returning to the room to talk to him. There was an intensity in Y/N's gaze that rattled him—like the magic user could see right through him, past the facade of indifference, straight into the mess of emotions swirling beneath the surface. It wasn’t a glare, not exactly, but something sharper, more discerning. And it unnerved Conner in a way he wasn't used to.

Anger, frustration—those were familiar. He could work with those. They fueled him, gave him something to push against. But this? This nervous, anxious feeling? That was foreign territory. Normally, when he got anxious, he'd channel it into anger—yelling, snapping, getting into yet another argument with Y/N. But here, standing outside the door, knowing what he needed to do and how he should approach it... it made his stomach churn. Because as much as he hated to admit it, every time he reacted in anger, he realized it only proved Y/N right. And the last thing he wanted to do now was give the smart-ass a reason to smugly say "I told you so" over and over until who knows what end.

He may be irrational at times, but he wasn't dumb. And his pride could only take so much.

No, Conner needed to do this right. But how was he supposed to do that when it felt like his nerves were crawling under his skin, making it impossible to think straight?

He exhaled slowly, trying to steady his nerves. Just as his hand tightened around the knob, ready to push the door open, his superhearing picked that moment to tune in on the conversation happening inside.

"Conner? Attractive?" Y/N’s voice cut through the muffled conversation, a sarcastic edge to his tone. "Yeah, I thought so. Once. You know, back before he treated me like I wasn’t worth his time. I don't understand how this seems funny to only me. How people can just… change their tune overnight. One day, I was just a nobody on the team to him, then when I start treating him the same way, suddenly, it's like I'm the only one on the team—but for all the wrong reasons."

Conner’s heart skipped a beat, his grip tightening on the knob, but he didn’t turn it. Instead, he leaned closer, his superhearing focusing in on the conversation and the harsh but strained sound of Y/N's words.

"Y/N..." Zatanna’s voice came through softly, as if she was trying to comfort him.

"No, seriously," Y/N continued, a bitter laugh escaping him. "You can't not admit how funny and ironic this whole situation is. Me and Conner, together? The universe could not come up with a more hilarious joke."

Conner froze at Y/N's words, his stomach knotting as he strained to hear more. His pulse quickened, the sarcastic bite in Y/N’s tone cutting deeper than he expected. That bitterness, though, the strain in it—that was what really threw him off. It wasn’t just sarcasm for sarcasm’s sake. It was the sound of someone who’d been hurt and was still trying to laugh it off, even when the pain was clearly bleeding through the cracks.

Inside, Zatanna’s voice came through, softer now but insistent, a mix of empathy and reason. “Y/N, come on. You’re not being fair to him—or to yourself. I know Conner wasn’t exactly Mr. Warmth when you first joined, but you gave it right back to him. And you have to admit, a lot of the time, you weren’t just defending yourself.”

Y/N snorted, and Conner could almost see the exasperation on his face. “Oh, really? What would you call it then, Z? I was supposed to just sit back and take it? Let him look through me like I didn’t exist? And then when I finally matched his indifference, suddenly, I'm the bad guy?” His voice grew more animated, like the floodgates of resentment had been opened. “I didn’t ask for any of this! I didn’t ask to feel anything for him. Hell, the attraction I had? I thought it was done the second he made it clear I didn’t matter. But then... now? When I’ve finally learned to put a wall up, he wants to start giving me these long and sad looks like I'm supposed to feel sympathy for him. Zatanna, we'd literally just got sidelined by Bats not even a few hours earlier because me and him could not stop fighting on the mission. Don't think I didn't see all of your tired and annoyed looks while me and him kept screaming at each other."

Conner’s stomach twisted painfully, a knot of guilt and frustration coiling tighter with every word. He wasn't even in the room and he could feel the weight of Y/N’s resentment settling on his chest, like Y/N was saying all of this directly to him, staring him straight in his blue eyes. It felt heavy and suffocating.

Hearing Y/N talk about his walls, about the way he felt forced to build them up—it stung in a way the Kryptonian wasn’t prepared for. He had always thought their arguments, their constant bickering, were just a reflection of their differences, not realizing how deeply he had hurt Y/N in the process.

Of course, this was the moment when he was reminded of Superman's words from before about how he’d treated him in the beginning when Dick, Wally, and Kal broke him out of Cadmus. It just made the sting feel worse, considering Conner knew exactly how Y/N was feeling because his mentor had once made him feel the exact same way, even if their circumstances were a bit different.

And now, to hear that Y/N had once felt something for him—attraction even—only to have it turn into this bitter, sarcastic shield... It made Conner feel like he had been blind to it all, and now he was paying for it, unable to untangle the mess he’d helped create.

Zatanna sighed. “I’m not saying he didn’t screw up, Y/N. We both know Conner can be... complicated, especially with his emotions. But you’re not being honest with yourself either.” Her tone was gentle but firm. “You built that wall out of your own fear too. You’re as stubborn as he is. He pushed you away, and you pushed back just as hard.”

Y/N groaned, clearly growing frustrated with the direction of the conversation. “Look, Z, I’m not saying I’m perfect, alright? But do you blame me? Every time I tried to be decent, I got shut down. Every time I tried to be patient, I got a door slammed in my face. And now—now we’re supposed to pretend like none of that happened? Like the past just doesn’t exist because we’ve got some kids from a future I can’t even picture?” His voice wavered for a moment, a crack in his bravado. “You, him, and everyone else must have a lot of faith in me if you think I want to sign myself up for something like that just because three little boys popped in from the future to tell us our fortunes! And you know what? You really shouldn't, because I don’t want to live in a world where I have to constantly wonder in the back of my mind if I’m worth someone’s time or if they’re suddenly going to change their tune at the drop of a dime because of this, that, and whatever the hell the third might be! I’m not going to live like that. And if that means walking away from all this, then so be it. The kids will get over it. Shoot, they won't even be here to see it!”

Conner’s hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, his knuckles going white as Y/N’s words echoed in his ears. The frustration bubbled up inside him, twisting and coiling into something darker, something harder to control. Y/N’s dismissal of the kids—their kids, his sons—like they were some temporary nuisance, some fleeting inconvenience that would disappear once this whole mess was over, set Conner's blood boiling. He could feel the anger rising in his chest, threatening to burst out in a way that had always felt second nature to him, the way it always had when he and Y/N fought.

But this? This wasn’t just about him anymore. It wasn’t just another fight between him and Y/N where they could trade barbs and insults like it was some kind of sparring match. No. Now it felt personal in a way that cut deeper than all their previous arguments combined. Y/N wasn’t just throwing him under the bus with his biting words and sarcastic remarks—he was dismissing the future that their kids came from, the life that, according to CJ, Colin, and Camden, they were supposed to build together. Y/N wasn’t just rejecting him. He was rejecting all of it—the family, the possibility, the kids—and that hurt worse than anything Conner had ever felt before.

He couldn’t tell if the anger in his chest was fueled more by his own pain or by the thought of the kids overhearing something like this. What would Colin think if he knew Y/N felt this way? The kid who loved his parents more than anyone. Or Camden? Did Y/N consider for one second how CJ would feel, knowing that boy practically looks up to and tries to follow every step his Papa takes? This would absolutely destroy all three of them, especially the oldest one. The thought of Y/N throwing them aside like a passing inconvenience tore at him, and Conner had to fight every instinct and nerve in his body telling him to march into that room and turn the whole conversation into an all-out brawl.

Inside, Zatanna’s voice softened, but there was a slight edge to it now, the first sign of her patience wearing thin. "Y/N... that's not fair to the kids and you know it. You already told me how CJ talked to you last night and how terrified he is of him and his brothers interfering. You know this will only break him. He, Colin, and Camden practically worship the ground you and Conner walk on. They didn’t ask for this any more than you did. And you’re right, you didn’t sign up for this, but you can’t just treat them like they're some temporary burden. They're your family too, no matter how far in the future it may be. You see how CJ looks up to you, how protective Colin already is of not just his brothers but his parents as well. A trait I'm sure he more than gets from his father. They’re real, Y/N, and they’re here. You can't just wish them away because you're scared of what this means for you and Conner."

There was a beat of silence, and Conner could almost imagine Y/N gritting his teeth, wrestling with the emotions he so desperately tried to hide behind sarcasm and bravado.

"Yeah, well, I didn’t ask to have my life turned upside down, Zatanna," Y/N shot back, his voice cracking just enough to betray the vulnerability underneath. "I didn’t ask for kids to show up and tell me I’m supposed to end up with someone who can’t stand me half the time! I didn’t ask to be put in a position where the second I feel like I can breathe, I’m right back at square one wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do now."

Conner felt like he was suffocating, standing there just outside the door, torn between barging in and finally letting all the anger and hurt pour out or walking away before he said or did something that couldn’t be taken back. His heart hammered in his chest, the fury building alongside the urge to just smash something, anything, to release the pressure that was pushing down on him. But he couldn’t. Not like this.

Zatanna sighed heavily, the sound filled with both exasperation and empathy. "I get it, Y/N. I do. This situation isn’t fair to you. It’s a lot. And I don’t envy the position you’re in. But pushing Conner and the kids away isn’t the answer. You’re scared, and I get that too, but don’t let fear make decisions for you. You care about them—I know you do, even if you won’t admit it. And maybe—just maybe—you need to stop fighting against this so hard and try to see it from Conner’s side. You might find that you’re not as alone in this as you think."

Y/N let out a bitter chuckle. "Alone? You think I’m not alone? Have you seen how we’ve been? Every time I try to meet him halfway, I get shut down. Every single time. I’m done fighting for something that’s never going to work. He’s made that clear. Hell, if it weren’t for the kids being here, I wouldn’t even be considering any of this! Tell me, Z, in what world do you see me and Conner—two people who are always at each other's throats—sharing a bed for absolutely no reason at all. I'm surprised nothing in my room was broken or destroyed by the time the sun came up."

Conner’s jaw tightened. So that’s it, huh? The only reason Y/N was even still in this mess was because of the kids. That was the line. That was the breaking point. He could feel the heat rising in his chest, the frustration turning to anger, sharp and hot. His vision blurred at the edges as he fought the overwhelming urge to kick the door down, to confront Y/N and make him understand how wrong he was.

But what would that solve? Another fight? Another shouting match that would just end with more resentment and more unresolved tension between them? He couldn’t do that again. Not now. Not after hearing everything Y/N had just said.

But walking away wasn’t an option either.

Zatanna’s voice softened again, but there was a weariness in it now. "Y/N, I get it. You're angry, you're hurt. But saying things like that—about the kids, about their future—it’s not fair to them or to yourself. You’re scared of getting hurt again, but pushing everyone away isn’t going to protect you. It’s just going to make things worse."

Y/N didn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, there was nothing but silence on the other side of the door. Conner’s heart pounded in his ears, the conflicting emotions swirling inside him like a storm. Part of him wanted to scream, to let Y/N know exactly how wrong he was. But another part of him—the part that had heard the hurt in Y/N’s voice, the vulnerability behind the sarcasm—wanted to do something else entirely. Something that scared him just as much.

Before Conner could make a decision, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. He turned just in time to see Wally, Dick, and Artemis heading toward him. Wally raised an eyebrow, his eyes darting between Conner and the closed door. "Uh... everything okay, man?"

Conner stiffened, his fists still clenched. "I... it’s fine."

Dick frowned, clearly unconvinced. "We need you in the mission room. Batman just got a hit on something. It’s big."

Artemis glanced toward the study door, her sharp eyes catching the tension in Conner’s stance. She gave him a knowing look before she stepped forward. "I’ll go get Y/N and Zatanna."

Conner wanted to protest, wanted to stop her, but he couldn’t find the words. Before he knew it, Artemis had already knocked and entered the room, leaving him standing there with his heart still racing and his mind still tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.

A moment later, Y/N emerged, his eyes immediately finding Conner's like a magnet. There was a flash of something in his expression, but it was gone before Conner could even begin to decipher it. Y/N brushed past him without a word, his shoulders tense and his jaw set.

Conner watched him go, the anger and frustration still simmering beneath the surface. And as they turned to leave for the mission room, the Kryptonian couldn’t help but glance toward Y/N in front of him, his retreating back a stark reminder of the distance between them. His anger hadn’t faded—it still simmered just beneath the surface—but there was something else now too. Something he couldn’t quite name. Something that made it impossible to walk away, no matter how much he wanted to.

And that scared him more than anything.

Batman’s gaze remained locked on the multiple video feeds displayed across the console, his usual stoic expression growing more grim by the second. "Late yesterday, our computers picked up on a surge of interesting reports," he began. "People reporting their cars stolen or missing, wild animal sightings, and sudden changes in temperature. At first, we thought they were isolated and random events. But we kept an eye on them just in case it turned out to be more."

Kaldur, ever the attentive listener, leaned in slightly. "They turned out to be more?"

"Much more," Batman responded, his fingers swiftly typing across the console to pull up a series of chaotic images and videos from Boston. The entire team turned to face the screens as footage of cars, objects, and even large pieces of buildings being torn apart and flung into the air played on the screen. More clips followed—animals that clearly weren’t native to the area running rampant through the streets, attacking anything in sight. The streets themselves seemed warped, as parks and intersections were transformed into different ecosystems—a tundra, a jungle, and even a volcanic landscape, each more out of place than the last.

"A small number of the Justice League was deployed early this morning to respond to these incidents," Batman continued, pulling up a map showing the spread of the chaos. "But the situation has only escalated. The environments are not only unstable, they’re... evolving. What started as small, localized disruptions has grown into widespread chaos. And they’re intensifying by the hour."

Artemis crossed her arms, her brow furrowed. "How bad are we talking?"

"Bad," Batman said, turning to face the team fully. "I believe the warning we received from Doctor Fate had more merit to it than we hoped." The mention of Fate caused a ripple of tension through the room. "He believes we’re dealing with an ancient magical anomaly, something that hasn't been seen in centuries, and that these chaotic events are due to the arrival of our... special guests." His eyes flicked briefly toward CJ, Colin, and Camden.

The kids stiffened at the mention, exchanging glances.

"Wait... you’re saying this is because of us?" Colin asked, his tone tinged with both confusion and worry.

Batman’s response was direct. "Yes. The random reports and strange events started just last night. We weren't aware at the time, but the beginning of these events coincides with the time you three arrived." His voice didn’t carry accusation, just facts. But the weight of his words hung heavily in the air.

CJ’s expression remained strangely neutral, though Y/N noticed something in his son’s eyes—something like understanding, but not the kind of fear or confusion he would expect. Y/N’s gaze lingered on CJ for a moment, but he didn’t say anything.

"So, what do we do?" Conner asked, his expression hardening.

Y/N's eyes flicked to Conner, catching the hard edge in his voice, the tension unmistakable. It wasn’t just the situation weighing on him; there was something deeper, something personal brewing beneath the surface. And Y/N wasn’t the only one who noticed. Colin's gaze dropped, his usual mischievous energy dulled as the weight of responsibility settled on his young shoulders. CJ, however, remained quiet, still unreadable, though Y/N could feel the tension radiating from him like a coiled spring.

Batman didn’t miss the shift either. His voice remained calm, but there was an urgency to it now. "We need to stabilize the situation in Boston before it spreads. Many members of the Justice League haven’t reported back, and their silence is concerning. The biggest problem, though, isn't just the animals or the environmental disruptions." He pressed a button on the console, and the screen shifted to show a massive tear in the sky over Boston. A swirling, violent rift of dark energy hovered ominously above the city, crackling with magic. "A magical rift has opened, centered over Boston. That rift is the source of the anomalies."

The team stared at the image, eyes wide. The rift pulsed with a dark energy that made the hair on the back of Y/N’s neck stand on end just by looking at it.

"The entire Justice League was sent out to respond," Batman explained, "but we haven’t heard back from them for some time. There’s been radio silence from their end for the last thirty minutes."

"That’s not good," Dick muttered under his breath.

"No, it isn’t," Batman agreed. "I'm sending you all there immediately to investigate and intervene. But..." He turned his gaze to Y/N. "Zatanna will stay behind to continue working on the spell with CJ’s assistance. I believe sending them back home to their timeline may be the only way to stop these anomalies for good."

CJ’s expression remained passive, though Y/N noticed the way Colin stiffened at the mention of going home, his eyes wide and filled with guilt.

"We don’t want to mess things up," Colin whispered, his voice tight.

Y/N placed a hand on Colin’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, this isn’t your fault, Colt. We’re gonna fix this."

Colin’s worried expression softened as a small smile crept across his face, and next to him, CJ’s lips curled into a matching grin. They exchanged a quick look before turning back to their father, the tension from a moment ago fading slightly. Y/N caught the change in their demeanor, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"What are you two smiling about?" he asked, his voice gentle but curious. Colin glanced at CJ before looking up at Y/N. "You called me 'Colt,'" he said, his grin widening. "That’s the nickname we came up with in the future. You always call me that." CJ nodded in agreement, his own smile reflecting the same fondness.

Y/N blinked at the revelation, a strange warmth spreading through his chest at the thought that, in some future timeline, he and Colin had this kind of bond. It felt oddly natural, like he was slipping into a role he hadn’t quite realized he was ready for. Colin and CJ were still smiling, their expressions lighter, and for a brief moment, Y/N let himself feel the weight of their affection. It was... nice, for a brief moment.

He opened his mouth to say something—maybe a teasing remark about how he should’ve guessed the kids would come up with such a cool nickname—but the seriousness of the situation quickly pulled him back. They were still in the midst of chaos, after all. His gaze shifted to the rest of the team, and that familiar, nervous tension returned to his gut.

Before Y/N could say anything further, Batman's voice sliced through the air, firm and commanding. "Alright, we can’t waste any more time," he said, cutting off any brewing conversations or potential arguments. "You'll be split into two teams based on your abilities. Here’s how this will work."

The room fell silent, everyone turning their attention to him. "Aqualad," Batman continued, locking his eyes on the Atlantean, "you’ll lead the first team to handle ground operations along with Superboy, Kid Flash, and Artemis. Your focus is handling the anomalies, managing the chaos, and protecting civilians. Also, locate any League members and assist them as needed. Keep them safe and minimize further damage. Use whatever resources you need."

The room remained tense as Batman continued, his gaze shifting toward Y/N. "Y/N, you’ll lead the second team with Robin and Miss Martian. Your task is to deal with the rift directly. It’s magical in nature, and based on what we know, you’re the only one with the necessary skills to close it. Miss Martian will assist with psychic communication, and Robin will handle any technical or tactical complications."

Y/N nodded, his expression serious. "Got it."

Before Y/N or anyone else could move, Conner’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and unyielding. "No way. Y/N, you’re staying here with the kids."

Y/N blinked, standing up from where he knelt beside Colin, his brows knitting together. "Excuse me?"

Conner crossed his arms, his expression firm and unwavering. "You’re not going to Boston. You’re staying here."

Around them, the tension in the room skyrocketed. Zatanna and Artemis exchanged uneasy glances, while Wally shifted on his feet, clearly bracing himself. Everyone knew what was coming; the team instinctively prepared for another explosive clash.

Y/N narrowed his eyes, frustration building in his chest. "And why exactly would I stay behind when I’m one of the only people here who understands how to deal with magical threats?"

"Because I’m not letting you get caught in the middle of this while our kids are here!" Conner snapped, his voice rising.

Y/N’s jaw clenched. "I’m not some helpless bystander, Conner. I can handle myself, and right now, the rift is the priority."

"The kids are the priority!" Conner shot back, his eyes blazing. "I’m not letting you go out there and risk your life when our sons are—"

"Enough." Batman’s voice cut through the argument like a knife, sharp and commanding. He stepped between the two of them, his gaze stern. "Y/N is the only one who might be able to close the rift. His magic is directly tied to the arrival of CJ, Colin, and Camden. If the rift was caused by their presence here, then Y/N’s magic may be the only thing capable of closing it."

Conner glared at Batman, his fists clenched tight enough that his knuckles turned white. "Then I'm going with him."

Batman didn't flinch. His tone was calm but firm, the kind of authority that couldn’t be ignored. "No, you're not. You're needed on the ground, dealing with the environmental and animal threats. This is a magical anomaly, and the team needs someone with the expertise to handle that. That's Y/N."

"I'm not letting him go alone," Conner growled, taking a step forward as if challenging the decision.

Batman’s eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a dangerously low register. "You're not the one who makes that decision, Conner. And Y/N won’t be alone. Robin and Miss Martian will be with him, along with any League members still on the scene. They'll ensure he has the support he needs."

Before Conner could respond, CJ stepped forward, tugging at his dad's arm. "Dad, it’s okay," he said, his voice steady in a way that was unnerving for a kid his age. "Papa's strong. He'll be fine. He’s got this." CJ’s quiet confidence washed over Conner like a calming wave, his blue eyes—so much like Conner’s own—looking up at him with unwavering trust.

Y/N noticed the subtle exchange, his gaze lingering on CJ. Something in the boy’s demeanor, that calm assurance, struck Y/N once again. But he held back from saying anything, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand. Conner, for his part, let out a deep breath, his posture softening slightly, though the tension in his shoulders remained.

Before anyone could take a step forward, a small voice broke through the tense silence. "Papa... Daddy..." Camden’s soft, trembling voice wavered as he looked between Y/N and Conner, his tiny hands clutching the hem of his father’s shirt. His wide eyes brimmed with tears, lip quivering as the realization settled in—both his parents were leaving. "No go," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. "Stay wif me. No go."

Y/N immediately knelt down beside his youngest, his heart twisting at the sight of Camden’s tears. He reached out, gently cupping the little boy's cheek. "Hey, hey, it’s okay, Cam. Papa’s not going anywhere forever. We’re just going to fix the big problem, and then we’ll come right back. Okay?"

But Camden wasn’t having it. His small hands reached out, grabbing onto Y/N’s shirt as if to anchor him in place. "Noooo, Papa! No go! Stay wif Cam!" The words came out in hiccuping sobs, and before Y/N could even respond, Conner had already knelt down beside them.

"It’s okay, bud," Conner murmured, his voice softer than anyone had heard it in a while. He gently lifted Camden into his arms, holding him close against his chest. "We’ll both be back before you know it. Aunt Zatanna’s gonna take care of you while we’re gone, alright? You’ll be safe."

Camden buried his face in Conner’s neck, his tiny body shaking with sobs. "Nooo... wanna stay wif Daddy... Papa..." His babbles were barely coherent now, muffled by Conner’s shirt as his small fists clung to him.

Y/N’s chest tightened at the sight of Camden’s tears, the sound of his son’s soft sobs tugging at his heart in a way nothing else could. But he forced a reassuring smile, placing a hand on Camden’s back. "We’ll be back really soon, okay, Camden? Aunt Z can show you some new magic tricks while we’re gone. How does that sound?"

Zatanna stepped forward, her expression soft and understanding. She held out her arms toward Camden, her tone gentle as she addressed him. "Hey there, big guy. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a bit? We’ll have fun, I promise."

After a few more moments of coaxing from both his parents, Camden finally loosened his grip, his tear-streaked face still buried against Conner's shoulder. Slowly, hesitantly, Conner passed him over to Zatanna, though the little boy still whimpered softly as she took him into her arms. "You’ll be okay, Cam," Conner whispered, brushing a hand through Camden’s dark hair before stepping back.

Y/N couldn’t help but watch the way Conner handled Camden, the tenderness in his touch, the quiet murmurs of reassurance, so different from the fire and stubbornness that had flared just moments ago. It was strange—how easily Conner shifted from the abrasive, hot-headed fighter to the soft-spoken, caring father. And despite all the chaos, despite the argument they’d nearly launched into, Y/N felt a tug of something deep in his chest. Fatherhood, it seemed, suited Conner more than Y/N would have expected. The Kryptonian’s natural protectiveness extended beyond just brute force; it was in the way he held Camden close, the way he whispered calm reassurances, like every word was meant to soothe the little boy’s fears. For a moment, Y/N almost forgot about the mission ahead.

He shook the thought away as Zatanna cradled Camden in her arms, the young boy finally quieting down, his hiccups slowing as Zatanna whispered softly to him. "I’ll keep an eye on them," she said to Y/N and Conner, her voice steady. "They’ll be safe here. Focus on what you need to do."

Y/N nodded, giving her a grateful look. "Thanks, Z." He turned to CJ and Colin, offering them a reassuring smile. "You two behave, alright? Help Aunt Z as much as you can."

CJ gave a small nod, his usual calm demeanor still present, though Y/N noticed the subtle determination in his expression. Colin, on the other hand, tried to put on a brave face, but Y/N could see the worry flickering in his eyes. "We’ll be okay," Colin said, though his voice wavered slightly. "Just... come back quick, okay?"

"Promise," Y/N replied softly, ruffling Colin’s hair before stepping back. He exchanged a final glance with Conner, their earlier tension still simmering beneath the surface, but now there was something unspoken between them—an understanding, however fragile, that they would both fight for their kids, for each other, even if they didn’t always agree.

Batman’s voice broke the moment, pulling them back to the task at hand. "Time to move. We’ve already lost too much time."

With a final look at his family, Y/N squared his shoulders and turned toward the zeta tube, the familiar swirl of light surrounding him as he prepared to confront the chaos in Boston.

The mission was a disaster before it even started.

The moment they arrived on the scene, it was like stepping into a nightmare—or worse, a magical hurricane on steroids. Boston wasn’t just in chaos; it was in pieces. Buildings hovered mid-air, entire streets warped into bizarre, shifting landscapes, and what looked like glowing neon vines were spreading across the city like it had been chosen as the set for an apocalyptic rave.

The team didn’t even have time to blink before they were hit with a wave of magical energy, the force of it sending shivers down their spines. Y/N, standing at the forefront, felt the familiar buzz of magic, but this was different. Wild. Unhinged. It was like a thousand magical threads all pulling in different directions, completely untethered. He could sense the power surging through the air, crackling with energy that had no business being there.

“What the hell is this?” Kid Flash muttered, staring at a car that was literally floating by like a balloon.

"Language," Robin chimed in, though he was just as unnerved.

Kid Flash shot Robin an unimpressed look. “Really? Now you’re pulling that?”

Robin gave a sheepish shrug, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, force of habit. The kids, you know?"

Conner scanned the area, his jaw clenched. "This isn't just magic. It’s chaos."

Y/N grimaced, eyes narrowing. "It’s more than that. The magic from the rift is spiraling out of control and destabilizing everything. Warping reality all around us.”

"Three kids caused all of this?" Artemis asked, incredulous.

"Well, technically, they haven't been born yet," Kid Flash pointed out. "So, yep, sounds about right."

As they moved deeper into the city, it became clear that nothing was untouched by the rift. People ran through the streets, some of them glowing as if they'd been hit with magical radiation, others transforming into strange, otherworldly creatures. One moment, a guy sprinted past them, looking normal enough—until he sprouted wings and took off into the sky like it was a completely rational thing to do on a Tuesday morning.

“Is that dude... part bird now?” Kid Flash asked, not even bothering to mask the disbelief in his voice.

Y/N watched with a mix of panic and fascination. “Yeah, it looks like it. That’s the kind of magical chaos we’re dealing with. Try to keep up.”

The air crackled again, and with each step closer to the rift, the environment shifted more dramatically. It wasn’t just the people being affected—entire blocks were freezing over in seconds, only to melt and turn into jungles or deserts moments later. One building seemed to be trapped in time, flickering between its current state and what looked like a medieval fortress.

It was like reality itself had been thrown into a blender, and someone had hit the highest speed setting.

Aqualad’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and focused. “We need to split up now! Artemis, Kid Flash, Superboy—fan out. We need to get people to safety and keep a lookout for any members of the Justice League. Y/N, Robin, Miss Martian—head for the rift. We’ll cover your flank.”

Superboy hesitated, his gaze lingering on Y/N as he nodded. There was something in Conner’s eyes—concern, frustration, maybe both—but Y/N couldn’t focus on that right now. He had his task, and the last thing he needed was to get distracted by Conner’s protective streak. Conner opened his mouth, like he was about to say something, but Y/N gave him a quick, determined nod before heading off toward the rift with Robin and Miss Martian in tow.

The team split off, each group moving with purpose through the chaotic cityscape. Superboy’s fists clenched as he watched Y/N disappear into the swirling madness ahead. "Be careful," he muttered under his breath, though Y/N was already too far to hear it.

As Aqualad led the others into the thick of the chaos, they dodged bursts of energy and tried to maintain a safe path for the civilians. Kid Flash darted from person to person, grabbing anyone who looked even remotely human and speeding them to the nearest shelter that wasn’t floating or shifting between realities. “Dude, this is like a magical acid trip gone wrong,” he muttered, dodging a glowing tree root that suddenly shot out from the ground.

“Stay focused, Kid,” Aqualad called over his shoulder. “We need to find the rest of the Justice League.”

Artemis fired a volley of arrows, knocking aside a swarm of neon-colored birds that were swooping down toward the civilians. As she reloaded, she glanced over at Superboy, who was busy punching a giant, glowing slug-like creature into the pavement. She watched as he ripped a car door off with far more force than necessary, letting the terrified people inside scramble out. "Hey, Supey, you doing okay?"

Superboy grunted, his fists clenching as the creature writhed beneath him. "Fine."

But he wasn't fine. Not even close. Every punch he threw was fueled by more than just the chaos around them. It was the gnawing worry at the back of his mind—twisting tighter with each passing second. The rift, the magic, Y/N out there somewhere—too close to the danger, too exposed. And then there was the conversation he'd overheard earlier, still simmering beneath the surface like a hot ember he couldn’t put out. Every word Y/N had said, the sarcasm and bitterness, how he had basically dismissed everything that had happened like it was nothing, felt like salt in an open wound.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was about to happen, and the thought of being away from Y/N while he faced that rift felt like trying to fight with one arm tied behind his back. Worse, part of him was still angry—angry at Y/N for throwing up those walls, for acting like none of it mattered. But what made it worse was that Conner couldn’t tell if he was more furious at Y/N or at himself for not realizing how deep those scars ran.

His anger and worry mixed into a volatile blend, and every punch, every kick was a release he desperately needed. But none of it made him feel better.

"You sure?" Artemis pressed, her tone cautious as she loosed another arrow. "Because you seem a little tense."

"I'm fine," Superboy repeated, though his jaw tightened with each word, his voice a little more clipped than before. He slammed the slug creature into the ground again, more aggressively than necessary, trying to focus on the task at hand. But no matter how hard he hit, it didn’t stop the weight pressing on his chest—the same weight that had settled in the moment Y/N disappeared into the chaos.

Conner just wanted to get this over with, to punch his way through every problem and make sure Y/N was okay. But magic wasn’t something he could punch. And that made him feel powerless. Useless.

"Uh-huh." Artemis wasn’t convinced, but she knew better than to push him when he was like this. She pulled back another arrow, this time aiming for a cluster of glowing tentacles slithering toward a nearby building. But she could see the tension in Conner’s stance—the way his fists stayed clenched even when there was nothing left to hit. He wasn’t fine. He was worried.

Meanwhile, Y/N’s team moved swiftly, the eerie glow of the rift growing stronger with every step. The air was thick with magic, the kind that sent chills up Y/N’s spine. He could feel it as they got closer—something ancient, powerful, and very, very angry. The energy was wild, and the closer they got, the more erratic it became. Sparks of light crackled in the air, and the ground beneath them shifted as if reality itself was struggling to hold together.

“We’re close,” Robin said, his eyes scanning the distorted environment with a mixture of curiosity and unease. “But, is it just me, or does something feel really off? It feels like…”

“Like we’re being watched,” Miss Martian finished, her voice steady but tense. She hovered a little higher, her green skin glowing faintly as she reached out with her mind, trying to get a sense of what was ahead. But she quickly pulled back. “There’s something... someone near the rift. I can’t tell who, but their presence is overwhelming.”

Y/N's heart raced as the sensation grew stronger. He felt the energy around him tightening, like a binding rope or python trying to squeeze him. “Whoever—or whatever—it is, they’re using the magical energy from the rift to fuel themselves. We need to be ready for anything.”

He could feel his own magic stirring, a rush of energy he didn't recognize but still somehow felt humming through his veins. It was a strange sensation, like a muscle flexing, preparing for a fight. His fingers tingled, and the air around him seemed to shimmer, almost imperceptibly.

"I can feel it," Y/N murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "The energy. It's... it's like nothing I've ever felt before."

Robin frowned, his eyes darting around the area. "That's not good, is it?"

"Nope, probably not," Y/N answered.

The closer they got to the rift, the more oppressive the energy became, like walking through thick, suffocating fog. The sky above them was torn open, swirling with dark, crackling energy, but it wasn’t just the rift that was the problem anymore. The presence Miss Martian had sensed—it was stronger now, looming over them like a shadow just out of reach.

As they approached the clearing near the rift, the ground shifted again, this time pulling away as if something massive was displacing the air itself. The sky above them darkened, the swirling mass of the rift glowing with an intense, unnatural light. And that’s when they saw him.

Y/N’s breath hitched as a figure began to emerge from the rift, hovering above the ground. At first, it was just an outline, a silhouette against the chaotic sky, but as the glow of the rift illuminated it, their worst fears were realized. Cloaked in dark, swirling magic, Superman floated in the air, his eyes glowing an unnatural, eerie green.

Something was wrong—terribly wrong. His normally calm and composed face was twisted in a snarl, his eyes glowing with that eerie, unnatural glow. Tendrils of dark energy spiraled around him, almost like chains, binding him to the rift.

Y/N’s breath hitched. “Oh no...”

Superman’s gaze locked onto them, but it wasn’t the familiar gaze of the Man of Steel. It was something else—something darker. And then, as if pulled by some unseen force, Superman’s attention shifted directly to Y/N.

Without warning, he shot toward them like a bullet, fists clenched, eyes blazing with magical energy. Y/N barely had time to react, throwing up a protective shield just as Superman’s fist collided with it, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. The force of the impact knocked Y/N back, his shield flickering as he struggled to hold it in place.

“Uh, guys. I think something's wrong with Superman,” Robin yelled, eyes wide with shock.

"Oh really, you think so?" Y/N shouted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I couldn't tell!"

Miss Martian, her eyes glowing white, tried to reach out to Superman, hoping to break through the haze of magic. But, the moment she touched his mind, she recoiled, her expression pained. "It's like his mind is screaming. I can't get through."

Y/N gritted his teeth, his hands shaking as he held up the shield.

“Y/N, can you—?”

“Working on it!” Y/N grunted, his magic straining against the overwhelming power of Superman’s attack. He could feel the dark energy coiling around Superman, like some kind of dark spirit or entity was latched onto him, controlling him. And worse—it looked like it was focused solely on the young magic user.

The rift above them pulsed violently, feeding the entity’s strength as it drove Superman forward again, his fists glowing with that same dark energy. Y/N braced himself, sweat trickling down his forehead as he prepared for another onslaught.

But, before Superman could strike, a blur of black and red shot past, tackling him mid-air with an angry shout.

Superboy.

The half-Kryptonian slammed into Superman, the force of his impact sending both Kryptonians crashing into a nearby building. The structure shook, but thankfully it held. Superman barely seemed fazed, his glowing eyes snapping toward Superboy as he regained his balance mid-air. The tendrils of dark energy flickered around him like an agitated beast, coiling tighter as if preparing for another assault.

Superboy landed in front of Y/N, fists clenched, his breathing heavy. His jaw tightened, his gaze locked on Superman, who was hovering ominously above them. "Stay behind me."

He didn’t even flinch as Superman’s eyes narrowed, a fresh wave of dark energy coiling around him. But Y/N was already bristling, his frustration bubbling over. “Are you insane?!” Y/N snapped, scrambling back to his feet, his eyes flashing with anger. “Do you know what you just did?”

Superboy didn’t tear his gaze away from Superman, his muscles coiled like springs ready to launch again. “Yeah, I saved your behind.”

“No, you didn’t!” Y/N’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp with anger and panic. “You’re supposed to be with Aqualad, helping the others! Not throwing yourself into a fight you cannot win. Superman’s juiced up with magic, Conner—he’s stronger than ever. You’ll get yourself killed!”

Superboy’s eyes flared, his own frustration boiling over. “And what, I’m supposed to just stand by and let you handle this alone? I’m not leaving you out here to face him by yourself!”

“I’m the one who can actually deal with this!” Y/N snapped, his fists clenched in frustration. “You’re only making it harder! I swear, you pull this stunt every time.”

“What, care about you?” Superboy shot back, his voice strained with a mix of anger and desperation.

“No, you put yourself in danger because you think you have to protect me,” Y/N hissed, his eyes flashing with fury. “Like I can’t handle it.”

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so reckless and actually stayed at the Cave like I told you, we wouldn’t even be in this mess!” Superboy countered, his jaw tightening as his temper flared.

“Who do you think you are?” Y/N scoffed, his frustration peaking. “And I’m not the one who just launched myself at a possessed Superman. You do realize that’s the textbook definition of reckless, right?”

Superboy’s growl deepened, his fists clenched so tight they trembled. He stepped closer to Y/N, frustration etched in every line of his face.

“If you two lovebirds are done, we’ve got bigger problems,” Robin cut in sharply, his voice tinged with urgency.

Y/N and Superboy froze mid-argument, their eyes snapping up toward Robin. Whatever anger had bubbled between them fizzled away as they realized what he was pointing to.

Superman hovered menacingly above them, his eyes glowing an even more vivid, unnatural green. Tendrils of dark energy coiled around his body like a living shadow, pulsing with an eerie power. His once-familiar face was a mask of pure malice, the heroic expression they knew replaced with something far more dangerous—predatory. His gaze locked onto them with a chilling intensity, his posture tense, ready to strike.

“Focus, guys,” Miss Martian urged, her voice tight as she floated beside them. “He’s about to attack.”

Superboy’s jaw tightened, and Y/N’s heart raced. Whatever had taken hold of Superman wasn’t letting go, and it had them squarely in its sights.

Back at the Cave, the quiet hum of the lights overhead was the only sound filling the air as Zatanna sat with CJ and Colin, keeping a watchful eye on the youngest Kent. Camden was currently asleep on one of the couches in her and Y/N’s study, wrapped in a blanket. It had taken some time to calm him down, especially since he had gotten more antsy after not being able to see Conner and Y/N before they left, but CJ had been a big help.

Speaking of CJ, Zatanna, ever perceptive, had noticed the strange and quiet behavior from the oldest Kent, something that Y/N had picked up on as well before they left for Boston. Y/N had even reached out through their magical connection, asking her to check on CJ and make sure everything was okay. There was something about the way he acted—like he knew something the rest of them didn’t.

“CJ, is there something on your mind?” Zatanna’s voice was soft, coaxing without pressuring.

CJ, sitting beside her, barely glanced up from his phone, his expression guarded and unreadable. “What do you mean?”

Zatanna offered him a kind smile. “You’ve been pretty quiet since the others left. Is everything alright?”

He hesitated, a flicker of conflict crossing his face before he sighed softly. “I’m fine. Just... worried about Dad and Papa.”

Zatanna watched CJ closely, noting the way his eyes flickered with something she couldn’t quite place—hesitation, maybe. There was something more behind the boy’s silence than just the usual concern for his parents.

"Your fathers are strong, you know that, right?" Zatanna offered with a warm smile, hoping to ease whatever tension was weighing him down. "Whatever they're facing, they’ve got each other and the team to back them up."

CJ nodded, but it was clear her words weren’t doing much to lift the cloud hanging over him. His fingers drummed lightly against his phone, his eyes distant. "I know they’re strong. I'm not really worried about that," he muttered.

Zatanna leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowed. "Then what are you worried about, CJ?" Her tone softened further, sensing there was something deeper at play. "You’re holding something back, I can tell. If you’re worried about more than just the fight, you can talk to me. I’ll keep it between us."

CJ glanced at Colin, who had been quietly sitting cross-legged on the floor. The younger boy looked equally conflicted, like he knew exactly what CJ was thinking but wasn’t sure how to express it. After what felt like forever, CJ sighed, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not the fight. Not really."

Zatanna waited patiently, giving him the space to continue.

"It’s just... the green lady," CJ said, his tone carrying more weight than she expected. "I don’t trust her. Neither of us do."

"The green lady?" Zatanna’s confusion was brief before realization dawned. "You mean M’Gann?"

Zatanna’s mind raced as she connected the dots. She had noticed it too—the way the boys interacted so easily with most of the team. They had a natural rhythm and rapport with nearly everyone, treating them like family. To them, everyone was either an Aunt or Uncle. They were always joking with Dick and Wally, learning fighting moves from Kaldur, and laughing at Artemis’ stories. Even their comfort around Superman and, surprisingly, Batman had caught Zatanna's attention. They had slipped into these relationships as if it was second nature.

But with M’Gann, it had been different. The boys were distant, almost cold, and while M’Gann wasn’t unfriendly, she too seemed hesitant. Zatanna had chalked it up to natural awkwardness, considering their sudden appearance, but now, hearing CJ refer to her as "the green lady" in such a cold tone, it was clear something deeper was going on.

"I’ve noticed you two keep your distance from her," Zatanna said carefully, studying both CJ and Colin’s faces. "And... she tries to get close, but there’s always some wall. Do you mind telling me why?"

CJ glanced at Colin again, and this time, it was Colin who spoke, his voice soft but steady. "She’s... different where we’re from. Really different."

Zatanna raised an eyebrow slightly. "Different how?"

CJ shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze dropping to his hands. "She... doesn’t like us much. Not really. She doesn’t like the idea of Dad and Papa together, and she’s—" He hesitated, clearly trying to find the right words without revealing too much.

"She tries to keep them apart," Colin finished quietly, his eyes trained on the floor. "She says things, does things... to make them fight sometimes. We’ve seen it."

Zatanna frowned, her heart aching at the weight these boys were carrying. She leaned in a little closer, her voice gentle but firm. "That sounds... complicated. But remember, this is a different timeline. People here aren’t the same as the ones you know. You’ve seen that, right?"

Colin nodded, but his eyes remained downcast. "We don’t mean to be mean, but she’s very different from the one we know with our parents. We’ve tried to find ways to tell Dad and Papa... but we don’t know how. Every time we try, something stops us. It feels like something is stopping us from interfering, and I don’t know how to make them see what we see." His voice cracked slightly, and he glanced at CJ for support.

CJ picked up where his brother left off, his voice steady but filled with frustration. "The M’Gann from our timeline, she’s... worse. She always tries to come between our parents, always messing things up for them. Sometimes she makes them fight each other. We’ve seen her do it so many times, and it always makes Papa and Dad upset. Sometimes at each other."

Zatanna’s eyes widened slightly, the pieces falling into place. "So, that’s why you two act so strange around her. You’ve been calling her 'the green lady' because you don’t trust her."

CJ nodded again, his expression darkening. "Every time I look at her, I see everything she did to hurt them in our time. And now, with us here, it feels like we’ve managed to do the one thing she’s been trying to do for as long as I can remember—keep them apart. What if we really messed things up? What if Papa never forgives Dad for everything that happened? I see how Dad looks at Papa, but... it doesn’t feel like Papa feels the same way. Especially when Dad’s around. It scares me. Like we’ve made things worse, just by being here."

Zatanna sighed softly, her heart aching for the boys. She could see how much they were carrying—fear, guilt, and the heavy burden of a future they weren’t supposed to interfere with. She knew they were holding back more than they were saying, but she also knew the dangers of knowing too much about the future. They were in a precarious spot, balancing on the edge of what they could share and what had to be kept hidden.

“CJ, Colin," she began gently, leaning forward to meet their eyes, "you’re not responsible for your parents’ lives. It’s easy to think that because you’ve seen so much, but love is complicated. There’s a lot of history between your Papa and Dad—some of which you haven’t seen yet, and some you might never need to see. What matters now is that they’re both strong, and they’re both fighting for what’s right. You being here... I don’t think you’ve ruined anything. If anything, I think you've actually opened their eyes.”

Before they could respond, the air in the room shifted—a crackle of magic filling the atmosphere, a familiar, tingling sensation that made Zatanna straighten immediately.

The atmosphere grew thick with energy, and a bright light bloomed in the corner of the room, just like when the boys first arrived—though this time, it was focused in one spot, far more controlled than the chaotic arrival from before. Zatanna’s senses heightened immediately as she recognized the magical aura, though there was something different about it. It was familiar, but stronger, more commanding, like CJ’s presence magnified, though this one carried with it a weight of experience.

As the light dimmed, Zatanna turned around, her eyes widening at the sight of two figures standing in the room—one taller, broader in the shoulders, still wearing a shirt that looked a size too small, while the other carried the same mischievous glint she knew all too well, tempered now by time and wisdom. Her breath caught in her throat as CJ and Colin’s faces lit up with pure joy.

“Zatanna, are you telling my kids stories again?” His voice was unmistakable, carrying that signature teasing, sarcastic tone.

"You are such a freaking idiot."

The words came out in stuttered breaths, each one sharp and ragged as Y/N lay pinned beneath the weight of Conner. His chest heaved with exhaustion, every breath a reminder of the strain his magic had taken on him during the battle. Conner didn’t move, his broad form pressing down heavily against Y/N, arms still wrapped protectively around his middle as though the fight wasn’t over yet. His grip was firm, almost too tight, as if letting go would mean surrendering Y/N to the chaos that had just unfolded.

They were both breathing hard, lungs burning as they tried to recover. The wreckage of the building around them was a brutal reminder of what they had just been through. The entity that had possessed Superman had been relentless, breaking free from the rift, driven by an insatiable hunger for power—magic, specifically. It had been searching for the source, seeking something ancient, something it believed would restore it to full strength. It had sensed CJ’s magic first, the magic that had torn the rift open. But when it found Y/N’s magical presence, something familiar, it zeroed in on him with a terrifying, singular focus.

Y/N could still hear the chilling words the entity had spoken through Superman’s lips, his voice distorted and twisted with malevolence:

"Ah, now it makes sense..." The entity’s voice slithered out of Superman’s mouth, twisted and unnatural, sending a shiver down Y/N’s spine. "The power I felt... that magic I sensed, so potent, so ancient... it called to me, even from within my prison. A power like that could only belong to someone with blood like yours." The entity's voice dropped, dripping with venomous amusement, each word laced with a cruel edge. "Yours is different from what I felt before... refined, controlled. But the first pulse I sensed was raw, untamed—much like you once were. A child, then. A child with blood like yours."

Superman’s—no, the entity’s—eyes gleamed, glowing with an eerie green light, filled with a malice that made Y/N’s stomach churn. "Your child, I assume. Familiar, yes... a direct descendant. How fitting." The thing let out a low, sinister chuckle that felt like nails on glass. "I will enjoy watching your line fall. I’ve waited so long... and today, both you and your whelp will suffer for what was taken from me. What your bloodline stole so long ago will finally be mine again."

The words hung in the air like a curse, dark and twisted, and Y/N felt his heart lurch in his chest. His hands shook, both with fear, but also a surge of protectiveness so strong it nearly overwhelmed him. He’d known CJ and Colin for less than 24 hours, but the very idea of anything harming them lit a fire inside him that burned brighter than any magic he’d ever wielded.

His jaw clenched, his breath quickening as he stared down this ancient evil wearing Superman’s face. The entity’s words echoed in his mind, its chilling threat against CJ ringing louder than the chaos of the battle around him. His magic flared to life, sparking at his fingertips. Not his kids. Not today.

Y/N wasn’t ready to be a parent—hell, he wasn’t sure he ever would be—but that didn’t matter right now. This thing, this twisted, malevolent force had come here looking to destroy his child. And no matter how outmatched he was, no matter how much stronger this entity might be, Y/N wasn’t going to let that happen. He’d take on anything—demons, gods, even Superman himself—if it meant protecting CJ.

"You’re not touching him," Y/N growled, his voice low and dangerous. Magic surged around him, crackling like wildfire. "I don’t care what you think you’re owed. You’re not getting past me."

Even as the odds stacked against him, Y/N felt something unshakable in his core. A new kind of strength, one that didn’t come from spells or incantations. It came from the protectiveness he felt for his son—the child who had come from some future he barely understood but who he was already willing to lay everything on the line for.

The entity grinned, the malice in its expression deepening. "Brave words for a dead man. You will watch your child fall before I take you next."

Y/N didn’t respond, his entire focus shifting to the battle ahead. His fear was there, gnawing at him, but so was something more powerful. For CJ, Colin, and Camden—for his sons—Y/N would fight until his last breath.

The battle had been nothing short of a nightmare, each moment a desperate attempt to stop the possessed Superman while keeping the team safe. Y/N had thrown every ounce of magic he had into protecting them—shields, energy blasts, containment spells—but none of it had been enough. The entity had twisted Superman’s powers, amplifying them with its own dark energy. Magic that would have at least slowed Superman down had no effect. And if they hadn’t been able to handle Superman without magic, how could they hope to stop him with it?

Still, it hadn’t stopped Conner. He fought like a man possessed himself, throwing everything he had between Y/N and the corrupted Kryptonian. Blow after blow, Conner absorbed the hits, bloodied but undeterred, keeping Superman distracted just long enough for Y/N to work out a plan. The rest of the team, alongside a few Justice League members Aqualad and the others had managed to find, had joined the fray. They'd been overpowered early on, knocked out when the entity first took control. The dark magic amplifying Superman’s abilities had caught them completely off guard.

But he never wavered.

Y/N quickly realized that fighting head-on would be a losing game. The entity's power, amplified by Superman’s, was far too overwhelming. But the rift—the thing that had brought it here in the first place—was still open, pulsating with chaotic energy, tearing the fabric of reality apart. That was when Y/N knew what had to be done. If he could close the rift, the entity would lose its anchor to this dimension. And with any luck, that would drive it out of Superman’s body.

It was a gamble, and a long shot at best.

Throwing himself into the task, Y/N channeled every ounce of magic he had left, weaving a spell to close the rift. The entity sensed it almost immediately. It directed Superman’s relentless attacks toward Y/N, trying to stop him. But Conner—bruised, battered, yet still standing—fought tooth and nail to keep Superman at bay, taking hit after punishing hit to buy Y/N just enough time.

Y/N could still feel the power surging through him, every part of his body alight with the energy required to seal the tear in reality. But it drained him. The spell needed everything he had, and in those final moments, just as he forced the rift to close with a deafening crack, he felt his consciousness slipping away. The world blurred, the sounds of battle fading as he fell from the sky, too exhausted to keep himself afloat.

That was when Conner leaped. He caught Y/N mid-air, his powerful arms wrapping around him as they fell into the wreckage of the collapsing building below, shielding him from the worst of the impact.

The rift sealed, and with it, the entity’s hold on Superman shattered. It was pulled back into the prison from which it had escaped, leaving Superman himself unconscious but finally free from its control.

And now, here they were—lying in the rubble, both too exhausted to move, trying to catch their breath. Y/N groaned again, the full weight of Conner pressing down on him, his body too heavy and too warm against Y/N’s aching frame.

"You do realize you're crushing me, right?" Y/N rasped out, each word strained and breathless, still pinned under Conner’s weight. His chest was heaving, trying to catch up with the breath that had been knocked out of him. Conner, on the other hand, didn’t budge. His arms remained locked around Y/N, his breath still hot against Y/N’s neck, and while the battle was over, it felt like the two of them were still fighting... something.

"Don't care," Conner murmured, his voice rough and strained. "You're not going anywhere."

Y/N groaned, the exhaustion creeping into his bones, mixing with the heat of Conner’s body pressing against him. "Dude, in case you didn't notice, the fight's over and you're kind of heavy. Please, get off me," he managed to huff between labored breaths.

Conner made no move to shift. "You’re fine," he said, though the protective edge in his voice didn’t waver. His arms still refused to let go, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of Y/N slipping away, even for a second.

"Seriously, man, I’m suffocating here." Y/N squirmed a little, not so much because he couldn’t breathe, but because the warmth and proximity were... uncomfortable. Not physically, but in a way he didn’t want to think too hard about. "Get off already."

"No." Conner’s voice was unyielding, a stubborn refusal that sent an involuntary shiver down Y/N’s spine.

"Are you serious right now?" Y/N craned his neck to glance at him. "This is ridiculous."

"I’m serious," Conner replied, his voice low. "I’m not moving until I’m sure you’re okay."

Y/N narrowed his eyes, irritation flaring up despite the exhaustion. "I’m fine. I’m alive, aren’t I? Now get off me before I hex you into next week."

Conner snorted softly, but his grip still didn’t loosen. "Like I’d let you."

Y/N bristled at the arrogance in his tone, trying to ignore the fact that his heart was hammering a little too fast. "What’s your deal, huh? Why are you always trying to play hero?"

"I’m not—" Conner’s voice was rough, and he shifted just enough to catch Y/N’s eyes. "I’m not trying to be a hero. I’m just trying to keep you safe."

Y/N’s temper flared at that. He shoved at Conner’s chest, trying to push him off, but of course, it was like shoving a brick wall. "I don’t need you to keep me safe, Conner. I’m not some fragile little flower. I’ve been dealing with stuff like this long before you ever decided to—"

"That’s not fair," Conner cut him off, his voice hardening. "You’re the one who’s always putting yourself in danger. What am I supposed to do, just sit around and wait for you to get hurt?"

"I can take care of myself," Y/N snapped, eyes flashing. "I don’t need you or anyone else to protect me. I’m not a damsel in distress."

"That’s not what I’m saying—"

"Then what are you saying?" Y/N challenged, his voice rising.

Conner’s jaw clenched, his breath coming in heavy, frustrated bursts. His eyes locked with Y/N’s, something dark and stormy flickering in their depths, and for a split second, it looked like he was about to argue back—like they were going to keep bickering until one of them snapped.

But then something shifted in Conner’s gaze, something that made Y/N’s breath catch in his throat.

Before Y/N could get another word in, Conner’s hand shot up, his fingers gripping Y/N’s jaw with firm but careful pressure. He tilted Y/N’s face up, his grip unyielding, and Y/N’s heart raced, heat flaring in his chest as he realized what was about to happen.

"Conner, I swear—"

The rest of Y/N’s protest died in his throat as Conner’s lips crashed down onto his, cutting off any words that might have followed. The kiss was sudden, fierce, filled with a rawness that felt like all the frustration and tension that had been building between them was finally boiling over. Conner’s mouth moved against Y/N’s with a desperation that sent a jolt of fire through him, the heat between them blazing in an instant.

Y/N’s first instinct was to shove him away—to push back against the overwhelming intensity of it all—but his body betrayed him. His hands, which had been pushing against Conner’s chest moments ago, faltered, fingers curling against the fabric of Conner’s shirt as he fought between wanting to resist and wanting to melt into the kiss.

Conner’s other hand slid down, wrapping around Y/N’s waist, pulling him even closer—if that was even possible—until there was no space between them. Y/N felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of Conner’s body and the sheer force of the kiss, and yet... he didn’t hate it. In fact, the heat of it, the possessiveness, the way Conner’s lips moved against his like he couldn’t bear to let go—it was enough to make Y/N’s mind spin.

His breath hitched, a small sound of protest caught somewhere in the back of his throat, but it was swallowed by the heat of Conner’s mouth. Y/N’s heart pounded so loudly in his ears that it drowned out everything else—the rubble, the aftermath, the fact that they had almost died. None of it mattered. Not in this moment. Not with Conner’s lips moving so fiercely against his, like kissing Y/N was the only thing tethering him to the ground.

Y/N should have been angry. He should have shoved Conner away, demanded an explanation, demanded they talk it out like they always did. But as Conner’s fingers tightened their grip on his jaw, forcing Y/N’s lips to part just slightly, and as his tongue brushed against his bottom lip with an insistent hunger, Y/N’s thoughts scattered.

Every nerve in Y/N’s body was alight, buzzing with the sensation of Conner’s touch. He felt like he was being burned alive from the inside out, his skin tingling, his heart racing so fast he thought it might explode. He wanted to scream, wanted to shout at Conner for being such an idiot—for making everything so complicated—but at the same time, he wanted to drown in the heat of the kiss, in the way Conner’s hands felt like they were made to hold him.

The push and pull inside Y/N warred with itself, but the kiss—it was relentless, pulling him under, making his mind go blank. It was overwhelming, suffocating, but in the best possible way. Every time he tried to pull back, Conner’s hand would tighten just a bit, his lips pressing harder, like he wasn’t ready to let Y/N go.

And maybe Y/N wasn’t ready to let go, either.

When they finally pulled apart, gasping for air, Y/N’s head was spinning, his lips tingling from the bruising intensity of the kiss. Conner’s forehead pressed against his, their breaths mingling in the small space between them, both of them panting like they had just been through another fight.

"That’s what I’m saying," Conner murmured, his voice rough, his breath hot against Y/N’s lips.

Y/N blinked, his mind still trying to catch up to what had just happened. His heart hammered against his ribcage, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he stared up at Conner, wide-eyed and completely disoriented. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but the words got stuck in his throat.

All he could do was stare at Conner, his thoughts a chaotic mess of confusion, anger, and something else—something warm and dangerous, something he didn’t want to admit he felt. His lips still tingled from the kiss, his skin still burning from where Conner’s hands had touched him, and Y/N had no idea what to say.

"I couldn’t just... stand by," Conner said, his voice a rough whisper, his forehead still pressed against Y/N’s. "I couldn’t lose you."

Y/N swallowed hard, his pulse racing as he stared into Conner’s eyes, the weight of everything between them pressing down like a storm about to break.

"You can be so damn reckless," Conner continued, his voice low and strained. "I can't stand it."

Conner’s chest heaved with every breath, his forehead still pressed against Y/N’s. His heart was pounding, louder than the chaos around them, louder than his own thoughts. There was so much he wanted to say, and for once in his life, Conner Kent wasn’t sure where to start. His hands, still gripping Y/N’s waist and jaw, felt like they were the only things tethering him to reality.

"You can be so damn reckless," Conner finally muttered, his voice low and strained. "I can’t stand it."

Y/N was about to snap back—about to say something sharp or sarcastic, probably both in response—but Conner wasn’t done.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" Conner’s voice cracked, a rare vulnerability leaking into his tone. His fingers tightened their grip on Y/N’s waist, his breath shallow as he tried to piece his thoughts together. "From the moment you joined the team, I couldn’t figure it out. I couldn’t understand why I was so... drawn to you. It scared me and I just tried to avoid and ignore it and you. But then when you started avoiding me, ignoring me... and I didn’t know how to deal with."

Y/N’s lips parted to respond, but Conner shook his head, not letting him interrupt. "It irritated the hell out of me. Every time we argued, every time you shut me out, it just made me... angrier. But not in the way I was used to. I wasn’t just mad—I was hurt. And I didn’t know how to handle it, so I lashed out. And then I’d regret it. Every damn time."

Conner’s voice softened, his forehead pressing even more firmly against Y/N’s. "You always pushed back, fought me at every turn, and instead of backing off, I wanted to fight harder. Because... I hated how much I cared. It didn’t make sense to me, not at first. I didn’t want to care."

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, his pulse quickening as Conner’s words sank in. But still, he remained silent, letting Conner get it all out.

"And then these past 24 hours... I don't know, Y/N." Conner’s voice cracked again, this time from the sheer weight of everything. "Since CJ, Colin, and Camden showed up... I didn't know what to make of that and I just tried to ignore my thoughts and feelings harder. Seeing them, knowing what could be... it scared me. But it also made me realize how much I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you. I don’t care about the past or the arguments or the crap we’ve been through. All I care about is the fact that... I can’t imagine my life without you in it."

Y/N’s breath hitched at those words, and Conner’s gaze softened, his thumb gently brushing against Y/N’s jaw. "I know I hurt you. I know I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to deal with it—hell, I still don’t, but I can’t keep pretending like you don’t mean more to me than just... a teammate or a friend. I tried to ignore it for so long, but now, after everything, I can’t."

The tension in the air shifted, the weight of Conner’s words pressing down between them. Y/N’s chest felt tight, his mind spinning as Conner continued, his voice softer now.

"At some point, it started to feel like you didn't—like you don’t want me around, and it ate away at me. I get it, because I’ve been there too. But every argument, every stupid fight we had... it wasn’t because I hated you, Y/N. It was because I was terrified of how much I... cared."

Conner’s forehead finally lifted from Y/N’s, and their eyes met, the intensity between them crackling like static. "I’m sorry for all of it—for making things harder on you. But I need you to know... I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore."

Y/N’s heart was hammering in his chest, his head spinning from everything Conner had just laid out in front of him. He wanted to say something—anything—but for once, Y/N was at a loss for words. He stared up at the Kryptonian, wide-eyed and dazed, trying to make sense of the flood of emotions coursing through him.

But he wasn’t done yet.

"You’re important to me," Conner whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "More than I’ve ever let on. More than I’ve ever let myself admit. And if you need space, if you need time, I’ll give you that. But I can’t pretend anymore, Y/N. I can’t act like I don’t want you in my life. Because I do. I always have."

Y/N swallowed hard, his pulse still racing as Conner’s words finally sank in. Everything—the tension, the arguments, the hurt—it all clicked into place. This wasn’t just some pent-up frustration or tension from the battles they’d faced. This was something deeper. Something neither of them had fully understood until now.

Conner’s hands tightened their grip on Y/N’s waist, his thumb brushing softly against his jawline. "You’re not alone in this," he said quietly. "I’ve felt everything you’ve felt. I just didn’t know how to say it. Until now."

Y/N’s heart was pounding so loudly he was sure Conner could hear it. The rawness of Conner’s confession, the vulnerability in his voice... it was overwhelming, but also something Y/N hadn’t realized he needed to hear. Now, at least, he couldn't use the excuse that he didn't understand Conner anymore.

He'd probably still use it though if it helped him win an argument but that's just a toxic habit that will have to be unpacked later at some point.

Y/N blinked up at Conner, his heart still thundering in his chest, his mind racing to catch up with the sheer weight of everything Conner had just laid on the table. He wasn’t used to this—being the one someone poured their heart out to. And hearing all of it, laid bare like that, especially from someone as guarded as Conner, it was... overwhelming. Too much, almost.

And as much as Y/N wanted to take a moment, to gather his thoughts and sort through what he was feeling, the weight of the situation was all too literal.

"Wow," Y/N finally managed, his voice breathless, though not just from the emotional onslaught. "That was... deep. Really deep. And you know, I’d appreciate it more if I wasn’t currently suffocating under the weight of your muscled chest."

Conner blinked, surprise flickering in his eyes as he processed Y/N’s words. The tension broke for just a second, the tiniest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh, right." He shifted, his body easing off Y/N’s a little, though he still didn’t let go entirely. His arms remained locked around Y/N’s waist, as if he wasn’t ready to fully separate just yet.

Y/N groaned as the pressure eased, the slight relief allowing him to take a proper breath. "Thanks. You’re built like a tank, you know that?"

Conner’s smile was small, but there was a warmth in it that made Y/N’s chest tighten. "I’ve heard that before."

Y/N felt the corner of his own lips twitch, the sarcastic comment easing some of the tension between them, but only for a moment. He glanced away, his gaze flickering to the wreckage around them, trying to find something—anything—to focus on other than the sheer vulnerability hanging in the air between them.

But Conner was relentless. His grip on Y/N’s waist tightened ever so slightly, pulling Y/N’s attention back to him, grounding him in the moment. "Y/N..." Conner’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. "I’m serious. I meant what I said."

Y/N swallowed hard, his chest tightening again as he forced himself to meet Conner’s gaze. "I know," he said, the words coming out quieter than he intended. "I... I get it. And... I hear you. It’s just..." He trailed off, his mind scrambling for something to say that didn’t feel too raw, too exposed. Vulnerability wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

He let out a shaky breath, trying to force some humor into his voice, though it didn’t come out as smoothly as he hoped. "Look, I’m not exactly great with... feelings, okay? You know that. You’ve seen that. And honestly, this whole thing is... a lot. It’s a lot to take in."

Conner didn’t say anything, just watched him with those intense blue eyes that made Y/N feel like he was being seen in a way he wasn’t used to.

Y/N’s fingers fidgeted slightly against Conner’s shirt, his mind still racing as he tried to find a way to explain how he felt without completely losing his nerve. "I’m not saying I don’t feel the same way," he continued, his voice softer now, more serious. "I’m just... I don’t know, Conner. I don’t know how to deal with this. With us. I didn’t exactly expect to have you drop... all of that on me right after we nearly died, you know?"

Conner’s lips quirked into a small, almost sheepish smile. "Timing’s never been my strong suit."

"Yeah, no kidding." Y/N let out a breathy chuckle, but it was laced with something deeper—an edge of vulnerability that he couldn’t quite mask with his usual sarcasm.

The smile faded from Conner’s face, replaced by that same look of quiet intensity, and Y/N felt his stomach flip. "You don’t have to have it all figured out," Conner said softly, his voice steady. "I don’t, either. But... I just needed you to know. I couldn’t keep pretending like I didn’t... care."

Y/N’s throat tightened again, and he struggled to find the right words. "You’ve... definitely made that clear," he muttered, his voice catching just slightly. His heart was pounding again, that uncomfortable mix of emotions—fear, warmth, something close to hope—tugging at him.

There was a long, heavy pause between them, the weight of everything unsaid hanging in the air. Y/N’s hands, still resting against Conner’s chest, flexed slightly, feeling the steady thrum of the Kryptonian’s heartbeat under his palm. It was steady. Strong. A quiet reminder of the man who had just thrown himself straight into danger, quite recklessly if it may be noted, just to keep Y/N safe.

"I’m scared," Y/N admitted before he could stop himself, his voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t easy to say, but it was the truth. And if Conner could lay everything bare like that, then maybe Y/N owed him the same. "I’m scared of... this. Of what this is and means. Scared that at some point, you'll change your mind and go back to ignoring me and pretending like I don't exist. I'm scared of getting hurt, but, I also am really scared of... losing you as well. Don't let that go to your already ginormous head."

"I’m scared," Y/N admitted before he could stop himself, his voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t easy to say, but it was the truth. And if Conner could lay everything bare like that, then maybe Y/N owed him the same. "I’m scared of... this. Of what it means. Scared that at some point, you’ll change your mind, go back to ignoring me, and pretend I don’t exist. I’m scared of getting hurt. But..." He hesitated, his voice faltering for a moment. "I’m also really scared of losing you. And don’t let that go to your already ginormous head."

Conner’s grip tightened around him, his eyes softening with an understanding that made Y/N’s heart stutter in his chest. He leaned in, their foreheads brushing lightly as Conner spoke, his voice low and rough, thick with emotion. "You’re not gonna lose me. Not ever." The conviction in his words made Y/N’s chest tighten even more.

"I’m scared too," Conner continued, his voice gentler now, like a confession he hadn’t meant to voice aloud. "But we can figure this out. Together. We don’t have to rush into anything. Just... give me a chance. Please."

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat, his throat tight as his fingers curled into the fabric of Conner’s shirt, gripping just a little harder. Whatever was happening between them, it wasn’t simple—far from it. But hearing Conner lay it all out there, hearing him say the things Y/N hadn’t even realized he needed to hear... it made the fear a little less overwhelming.

For a long moment, Y/N didn’t respond. He just stared at Conner, the weight of everything settling in his chest, heavy but somehow comforting. "Alright," Y/N finally whispered, the tension in his voice easing, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "But seriously, don’t let that big head of yours get any bigger."

Conner chuckled softly, the sound sending a warmth through Y/N that he wasn’t quite ready to deal with. But for now, it was enough.

As the group stepped through the Zeta tube, the familiar whirring and beeping of the system was the only sound filling the otherwise tense silence. The battle had left everyone exhausted, and the weight of what they’d just faced hung heavily over the team. Wally, always one to lighten the mood, was the first to speak up.

“Okay, but can we just take a moment to appreciate how insane it was to see Y/N go full-on wizard against Superman?” Wally said, his eyes wide with lingering awe. “Like, I knew magic was cool, but that was next-level.”

Kaldur nodded, though his expression remained serious. “It was a battle none of us could have prepared for. The entity’s power... it amplified Superman in ways we couldn’t have predicted.”

“Yeah, but Y/N went all Gandalf on him,” Wally continued, gesturing wildly. “I thought he was going to pull out a staff and scream ‘You shall not pass!’ any second.”

Conner, walking silently behind the group, shot Wally a sidelong glance. “It wasn’t funny, Wally. That thing nearly killed him.”

Wally raised his hands defensively. “I know, I know! I’m just saying, it was impressive. You have to admit it.”

“Yeah,” Artemis chimed in, her voice quieter but no less impressed. “He held his own. I don’t think any of us expected him to hold off a superpowered Superman for that long.”

Before anyone could respond, the Zeta tube beeped again, signaling their arrival back at the Cave. As they stepped forward, though, what they saw waiting for them froze everyone in their tracks.

Standing there casually next to the console as if this was completely normal were two very familiar figures—familiar, yet slightly more older, their features more mature, their presence commanding. The older versions of Y/N and Conner were standing side by side, along with CJ, Colin, Camden (perched on his dad's shoulders of course), Zatanna, and Batman, all waiting for them with expressions ranging from amused to unreadable.

The team stood frozen, eyes wide as they took in the sight of their future counterparts. Wally’s mouth dropped open, and his head darted between the two older men and their younger selves. His brain scrambled to process what he was seeing, but Future Y/N’s casual greeting broke the silence.

"Hi, kids, welcome back. Did you have fun?" Future Y/N asked, a smirk playing on his lips, as if this whole situation was perfectly normal.

Wally blinked, raising a hand and pointing between the two Conners and Y/Ns. "Uh... you all see the duplicate Y/N and Conners too, right?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and disbelief.Artemis rolled her eyes, though she was just as stunned as the rest. "Yes, Wally, we all see them. They're not clones."

Wally, ever the wise-cracker, couldn’t help himself. "Well, technically, Conner still is," he quipped, flashing a grin. Both Conners, in perfect sync, rolled their eyes at the comment, their shared exasperation almost comical. Before Wally could revel in his joke, Artemis delivered a swift smack to the back of his head.

"Ow!" Wally yelped, rubbing the spot. "What? It was accurate!"

Future Y/N chuckled at the playful banter, casually crossing his arms over his chest. "Ah, some things never change," he remarked, his tone light and teasing. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he turned his gaze to his past self, a smirk tugging at his lips. "So... how was that first kiss, huh?"

Present Y/N froze, his face instantly flushing a deep red as he stammered, completely caught off guard. "W-Wait, what—who said anything about a kiss?!" His voice cracked slightly, and he cast a panicked glance at Conner, who wasn’t faring much better. Conner’s cheeks were quickly turning a shade of pink that rivaled Y/N’s, his eyes darting anywhere but at the group, avoiding everyone's curious stares.

The room fell into a stunned silence as the rest of the team blinked in disbelief, their gazes bouncing between the two. Artemis raised an eyebrow, Kaldur seemed momentarily at a loss for words, and even Batman shifted ever so slightly, though his expression remained as stoic as ever.

CJ and Colin, on the other hand, exchanged grins—CJ’s particularly smug, mirroring the exact cheeky smirk their father wore. The boys’ amusement was palpable, clearly enjoying the show unfolding before them. Little cheeky bastards indeed.

This story concludes on Archive of Our Own.

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[cuubism]

🖋️ !!!!!

next part of the slow burn--

Dream held his gaze for a long moment, then he said, finally, with a sigh, “They did. They did… hurt me.” There was little victory in hearing him say it, except that, in claiming it, perhaps Dream might be able to allow himself what he was already experiencing. Maybe eventually move through it. “Makes me damn angry, by the way,” Hob added, and Dream’s lips turned up in a smile. “I admit that I find pleasure in your anger,” he said. “And in your passion, and the way you see me.” Then, echoing his own prior words, “Were I but a simple dream, I would live as your vision of me. I think perhaps it is kinder.” Hob was pretty certain it was kinder. Still, he didn’t want the version of Dream his own mind could conjure up. He wanted this Dream, in all his complexity, even hurt, even so consumed by what he was that he could hardly grasp onto who he was. He cupped Dream’s cheek in his palm, stroked his thumb over the corner of his mouth, and Dream’s eyes fell shut, pleased by the touch.

[magistralucis]

Reading Severed again. I am noticing, more strongly this time around, just how thanatically obsessed Obyron is as a character - for him, death defines everything, not just the question of what to do about Zahndrekh. His lychguard phalanx, his insistence in referring to humans (e.g. the Callidus assassin) as 'mortal', citing his own tomb size to describe his status. For someone obliged to not-die for as long as possible, Obyron is rather particular in that he seems to view death as a welcome enemy, a salvation which hurts then stops hurting. He's always ready to embrace it, and he's really sad about it, and neither sentiment stops the other. The best gift he has to offer to his lychguard friend (Neb) is to let him die by his side. At the garden, when he saw Zahndrekh slipping, the first thing he actually did wasn't running off in denial - but to claim a memento, slipping right into the ritual of post-mortem remembrance, before he even knew if he'd need it. Bits of his living self forgotten in the void. Always ready to die or let die. Whether Obyron was always like this, or if this was a long-term worldview change caused by Zahndrekh's degradation is debatable, but I wouldn't be surprised if this man was straight-up born grieving

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics where Louis is a villain of some sort as requested in an ask I can no longer find oof Hope you see this rec whoever asked for it! If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis/Harry -

💀 Wanted Most by BornOnABeach

(E, 156k, thief Louis) Louis Tomlinson is a thief, and a damn good one at that. Most have heard of him. Most don't understand him. And Harry Styles is the FBI agent who can never seem to catch him.

💀 Cover Me with Jewels by ShatteredGlassHouse / @larryislove

(E, 55k, thief Louis) the one where Louis is a jewel thief and dating Harry Styles, the heir to a designer jewellery business empire, but Louis worries Harry will discover him, so he disappears for five years. 

💀 Tied Down by HamPalpert

(E, 48k, drug dealer Louis) The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson. 

💀 I'll Throw Away My Faith (Just To Keep You Safe) by @theboyfriendstagram

(E, 42k, assassin Louis) AU. Harry Styles is an MI6 agent on a mission to find out who’s planning on killing the Prime Minister. Louis Tomlinson is a wanted professional assassin, hired by the MI6 to kill whoever wants to kill the Prime Minister.

💀 Please, Deceive Me by Larringiscaring

(E, 42k, thief Louis) Louis robs casino's with his ex-boyfriend, and Harry trusts a criminal a little more than he should

💀 no pressure, no diamonds by @karamelised

(E, 42k, thief Louis) Louis is a thief, Harry a grifter. They are thrown together for a huge diamond heist in Paris, where their past soon catches up to them.

💀 Buried Like Treasure by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 40k, thief Louis) Semi-retired thief Louis Tomlinson has been pulled in for one last job: steal a painting from an uninhabited mansion. Neither one of them expects a natural disaster.

💀 The Risen (series) by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 28k, cult au) In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.

💀 For You, I Will (I Don't Believe in Magic, but) by theweightofmywords / @lil0

(E, 17k, criminal Louis) Louis leads two lives, when all he wants is a simple one with Harry.

💀 focal point by rainbowsandgucci

(M, 8k, thief Louis) By the time you read this, I’ll be gone, so don’t bother looking. Last night was lovely, Harry, I’m sure you agree. Sorry to run, but that’s just how life works sometimes, I’m sure you understand. Don’t forget about me. xx P.S. Thanks for the money

💀 Daisy by Jennifer_Kaid / @poetsreprieve

(E, 3k, mob au) An assassin who lurks in shadows, who kills with a detachment towards his victims, their death always displayed artfully for anyone who stumbles upon the corpse once his work is done.

💀 Stealing My Trust by Phillipa19

(E, 3k, organized crime) Harry hates the danger Louis' 'job' puts him in, but no one ever said being in love with a criminal would be easy.

💀 we're swimming with the sharks until we drown by velvetnoodle

(T, 3k, thief Louis) There’s only one thing that makes Harry’s job on the casino floor bearable, and that’s a chance to grab the attention of the mysterious man who frequents the establishment often.

💀 How to Catch a Christmas Tree by Anonymous

(E, 2k, omegaverse) It's two days until Christmas and Harry needs a Christmas tree.

💀 Marionette by Anonymous

(E, 2k, witch Louis) Harry is a vampire on the hunt. He doesn’t know that he’s not the top of the food chain.

💀 The shape I've made you into by flamboyo / @riverswater

(M, 1k, established relationship) "Sometimes, I wish you'd hit me."

💀 Twenty-Eight by @beardyboyzx

(M, 1k, spy au) Agent Harry Styles has finally caught his nemesis, but there's a knot in the plot he's not ready to detangle.

- Rare Pairs -

💀 To Catch a Thief by StormDancer

(E, 49k, Zayn/Louis) There are some rules even thieves have trouble breaking. Marriage vows, for instance.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

What is this?

Past =-= Next

Author's note: Next part of Catuis's story in Husbandry. Thanks to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric and Ash'val.

Summary: Catius is sent on errands and spots a Dangerous Person.

Warnings: let me know if I need to add anything.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Catius was humming to himself, it had been a few months since they'd found Jophiel and had taken him to the Imperial Fist and Salamander Base to get properly patched up. Of course, convincing a skittish, panicky, wounded, and paranoid Jophiel to go to a base filled with Elder Cousins that are First Born that he doesn't know was not easy, also being stalked by a Night Lord had been… not fun.

He was glad that they'd called Elder Apothecary Hura to deal with the fellow Chaos Marine, even though Cedric had to owe Hura a favor for the aid. Hura had called in the favor by requesting Cedric to help him with an incredibly skittish Loyalist Thousand Sons First Born who'd been found in the desert by some of his fellow Chaos Marines and was not… reacting well to being in a Chaos Marine Base.

He'd called Imhoden a 'skittish little cousin'. He knows that Black Templars have a dim view of 'warp witches' but as Cedric was of a gentle temperament and younger, it would help, or so they hoped, calm Imhoden down from his Psyker Paranoia. Cedric has yet to come back from the Chaos Base, but they are in regular contact with him, so he's fine.

And, they do have code words and phrases that they use to ensure that he's still fine, and if he needs back up Catius and the others will go to their brother-cousin's aid, Alliance be damned. For some reason Salamander Captain Ash'val has been keeping a closer eye on him, Claude, Ramiel, and Jophiel since Cedric had 'willingly' gone to help Hura with a particularly tricky patient.

He's finished up the work he's been assigned and heads to who's been assigned to order him about today and reports what he's done and requests another duty task. He's happy to work and is ordered to go and get some supplies from the base line human's town for some items that are easier to buy then to make from scratch themselves.

He nods and is given some local currency and a list and heads to the local town to get the supplies. As well as have a walk about to see who's where in town. There was a rumor that one of the feral war bands of Black Templars was going to be heading into, or would be near the town and they wanted to try and keep an eye on them. Black Templars tended to be rather… temperamental types.

Also, their reactions to a Bond are… not ideal. They are usually not Human Killers. As he's gathering the items he looks to where he spots the feral war band of Black Templars and freezes when he hears a voice that he recognizes. His hearts sinking to his chest as he shuffles to a location that's deeper in the shadows of the building as he mentally swears and carefully peaks around the building.

He feels like a rabbit caught in a trap. Ramiel's told them… some of the things that his so-called Mentor did to him. Has heard the bastard's voice over Vox during some of the rare times that Ramiel was able to try and talk to him, before… before they arrived on Ancient Terra.

Captain Petras is on Ancient Terra- and he's part of one of the less human friendly Black Templar war bands. Oh, this is not good. He's one of the more Infamous Primaris Killers, and he's here. Fuck. Chaplains tended to hold a lot of sway among their battle brothers due to their rank and position within the chapter. Oh, this is not good at all. Suddenly there is a voice in his HUD display and he makes a startled noise.

"-ius, come in Catius," The voice- he recognizes and relaxes a little, it's Captain Ash'val, "Catius sit rep- your vitals are going nuts, what's the situation?"

"Sir," Catius croaks, takes in a breath and then starts again, "One of… of the Primaris Killers is on Ancient Terra."

"…Primaris … what?" Ash'val says.

Catius shivers at the tone of the the Dragon's voice. "What do you mean Primaris Killer? A Chaos or Renegade First Born Astartes?"

"No," Catius says, "He's a Loyalist. Chaos and Renegade Space Marines killing us is understandable, we try to kill them. No- Primaris Killer is a title for Loyalist First Borns who decided that Primaris Marines are abominations to be purged and killed."

There is a silence on the other end of the vox-line and Catius feels like he's said or revealed something that perhaps, Cedric and the other's hadn't told Ash'val or the other First born cousins at the base. Why? He's not sure, but he's got a sinking feeling that he's said something he shouldn't have.

"Catius, get back to base," Ash'val orders, "give me a description and name of this… 'loyalist'."

"… Ramiel didn't tell you? or Cedric?" Catius says, really wishing he could keep his big mouth shut, "This particular Primaris Killer murdered Ramiel. In front of Cedric. And he's a Chaplain."

There is another loud, eternity filled, but actually quite short pause from Ash'val. "He's a what."

Catius winces, there are many reasons why allied Chaplains are… a source of… anxiety for Cedric and Ramiel, and to a lesser extent the rest of them. While Catius had been 'lucky' to not have to deal with many first born before arriving on Ancient Terra, most of the other's had and it hadn't been… the best for them at times.

"My estimated time of arrival is five minutes sir," Catius reports, "I was only able to get half of the requested supplies.

"Someone else will finish getting the supplies, your safety is more important at the moment." Ash'val replies.

Catius blinks and tilts his head, not that Ash'val can see that at the moment, "I don't think he spotted me sir."

"Does he know you are friendly with Ramiel and Cedric?" Ash'val asked pointedly.

"Yes sir." Catius replied.

"And do you want him to know you are here? And possibly them to?" Ash'val asks.

"No Sir!" Catius says with wide horrified eyes, "no!"

[sleepyfan-blog]

Fealty

Author's note: this is the second fic in the Fem!Guillilman in 40k series. Link here for the masterlist.

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts

warnings: unreliable narrator, past manipulation, please ask me to tag something if I missed it/something specific bothers you

Summary: Titus talks to his fellow Deathwatch officers about some odd happenings within Ultramar. He then finds out the source of the strangeness.

“So… Anyone else noticed how all of us of Deathwatch members have been gathered from all corners and hell-holes of the Imperium and brought aboard this ship are all Sons of Guilliman?” Titus called out, his arms folded over his chest as he called out to several other officer-level Astartes in the room. 

“I mean… We sons of Guilliman outnumber everyone else. From last I heard, roughly fifty to sixty percent of all active loyal astartes can trace their geneseed to Guilliman herself.” Andromicus pointed out, a small frown appearing on his face. 

“It’s still strange that every single marine aboard this ship is a Son of Guilliman, though. I was pulled from my kill-team… And from what I’ve been able to get from the others, the only ones who are with any of their kill-team members is if those other Brothers are also sons of Guilliman. Anyone have any ideas or theories as to why?” Pholecin added, a mirroring frown on his own face. “Some of them were pulled from active battlefields, with other marines replacing them on the field. Injury status be damned.”

“I heard a rumor that an invasion fleet managed to pierce deeply into Ultramar’s defenses. Chaos scum and possibly Tyranids at the same time?” Andromicus offered “I’ve even heard a mutter or two that Maccrage itself was under threat directly. Maybe we’re being sent to aid the efforts there?”

Titus shifted uncomfortably at the thought. He was not looking forward to interacting with the Brothers who had cast him aside after the Incident on Graia. He had done what he could to stem the tides of Orcz and Chaos… Even managed to seal the gate, but in so doing, had been suspected of Chaos Taint. Stripped of his honor and exiled to serve the Inquisition. “I heard something about that as well, something similar. But I’m surprised at how intensely the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines has shut down all means of information gathering and travel. Whatever happened, it’s…” He swallowed, keenly aware of the attention on him, not just from Andromicus and Pholecin, but the rest of the Death Watch Officers who were lounging round in this officer’s lounge “It’s no small thing. I have no idea what…” But he could guess.

“... You wanna explain your thought process about that?” Andromicus asked, looking at him more carefully, briefly focusing on the Ultramarine Ultima on his left pauldron. 

There was a brief, profound silence that permeated the room. Titus was pretty sure that no one was breathing, to avoid possibly missing out on his response. “It’s just… There were several sets of protocols put in place, in case certain things happened. Some of these protocols were kept a secret, to be carried out by the officers who knew them, and from the known movements of the Ultramarine fleet - and the fact that all chapters who have the geneseed of Guilliman within them have been recalled to Ultramar - though some like the Nova Marines and the Mortifactors are from quite far flung reaches of the Imperium. Considering how tightly patrolled the borders of Ultramar are, and how little information even the Inquisition has been able to glean - that they’ve told-”

Titus’ eyes widened a little and he abruptly stopped speaking, as he mentally went over all of the protocols that he knew of that were being followed. A soft exhalation of “Oh. I suspect I know what’s happened.” 

There was a very loud, very intense silence before Pholecin broke it “Care to tell the rest of us? Also, how would you know about these secret Ultramarine protocols?”

“I was Second Captain of the Ultramarines, before being taken into the service of the Inquisition.” Titus revealed, shifting uncomfortably. His eyes glanced briefly to one of the security cameras, before covering his mouth, his voice dropping to a low whisper that nonetheless carried “I suspect that something may have happened to the greatest treasure within the Fortress of Hera.”

Every astartes in the room knew exactly what, or more precisely, who he was referring to. The silence that followed his statement was long and grim. More than one Brother bowed his head, murmuring a quiet prayer to Him on Terra.

“Allegedly, the prime conduit of the Omnisiah was visiting Maccrage at the time, with armor specifically crafted for a Particular Individual, with alterations to ensure that… Certain Injuries this person has would be treated and not be so life-threatening, so long as this person stayed within the armor as they healed.” Titus continued, and the mood shifted in the room to slightly more hopeful.

“There… There are rumors that a new Regent may be crowned on Terra, though whether or not that’s true is… Has yet to be seen. I’ve also heard about the Ruler of Ultramar once again taking up the Golden Laurels.” Andromcus murmured, his voice low, but filled with a painful, tentative hope that Titus could not allow to consume his hearts. “If… If this is so, we may all be recalled home to swear fealty to this Ruler.. As. As with the rest of the Sons of Guilliman are being recalled to do the same.”

“Do you have verified information about that? Or is that yet another rumor?” Titus asked, his hearts in his throat at the idea, hiding his hands beneath the table, so that no one would see the way that they were shaking. His only consolation was the drawn but hopeful looks on everyone else’s faces. No matter what the truth was, they at least had some clue as to what may await them when they were brought to Maccrage.

“I… It’s a rumor, but…” Andromicus shrugged a little “Rumors and supposition are all we have to go on at the moment.”

“That’s true enough.” Titus answered with a shrug and a sigh. There was a restless, shivery energy inside of him that he needed to get out, or it would eat him alive “I’m going to go into one of the training rooms. Anyone else up for a spar?”

“I am.” Pholecin answered immediately, standing up “I… I want to spar as well.”

Titus nodded and the Deathwatch marine of Liberator heritage followed after Titus, the two of them silent as they made their way over to one of the open training rooms.

~

Titus could taste the tension within himself and his fellow Astartes as the Inquisitorial ship landed on the far side of the Fortress of Corrections. There were hundreds of Ultramarines in parade-form waiting for them, armed and armored. A large, ornately decorated and bitterly familiar figure standing at their head, with a slightly shorter but no less well-decorated person standing next to him.

The Inquisitors and the crew had been instructed to stay within the ship. If need be, they would be allowed to fly the vessel to one of the large space port towns within Maccrage. Only Marines were to leave the ship at the Fortress of Corrections - and there had been no shortage of grumbling about it from the non-Astartes, though they were careful not to complain on vox to a very stiff and nearly hostile Chapter Master Calgar, if rumors were to be believed. 

And why wouldn’t Calgar be annoyed to have to recall marines that he and other chapter masters had discarded? To have Marines sent away to the Inquisition for their perceived sins and misdeeds. Not enough to be killed or exiled outright to the Eye of Terror, but banished from the Ultramarines, or the other successor chapters that claimed to be of Guilliman’s lineage brought back to the most holy place of Ultramar. 

Ttus was at the front of the two-hundred and sixty-nine Deathwatch marines who were sons of Guilliman. News that he had once been the captain of the second company of Ultramarines had spread quickly, and while he wasn’t the only former Ultramarine within the ranks of the Deathwatch, he had been the most highly ranked before being taken into their service. The other former-officers of the Ultramarines were at the front, followed by rank and file former Ultramarines, followed by officers of successor chapters and their rank and files by order of Founding. 

Titus did not want to be at the very front. To look the bastard Calgar in the eye for the first time in nearly a hundred years. But he could not deny his Brothers’ request, and the Master of Ultramar was an imposing figure, especially for the first time meeting him. As would be the case for every other Deathwatch marine. It was intensified by several times due to the Chief Librarian’s presence at his side (not that Librarian Tigurius was often far from Master Calgar’s side if either could at all help it) and hundreds of Ultramarines there to watch and silently judge them as they walked in perfect formation towards the Chapter Master of the Ultramarines. 

Titus was the one who had to speak (he’d argued that they at least should draw lots and was soundly out-voted, the bastards). He saluted Calgar and Tigurius in the manner of Ultramar, speaking in formal tones “Greetings, Chapter Master Calgar, Lord of Ultramar. I am Captain Titus of Deathwatch. As you have called, all members of Deathwatch who have the geneseed of Guilliman have arrived upon Maccrage, to my knowledge. What duty do you ask of us, lord?”

“It was not I who called you to Ultramar, but a higher authority. Surrender your weapons, each of you, to the nearest Ultrarmarine, and you will meet with this higher authority individually. If you refuse you will be executed on the spot.” Calgar rumbled, staring down at Titus.

… The only person with more authority than Calgar on Maccrage itself was a very small number indeed. This, along with the insidious hope that had bloomed within Titus’ hearts had him immediately handing over his bolter and blades, carefully checking that he had removed all of his weapons - including the emergency knives that he stored in his boots, carefully handing over each weapon to the waiting Ultramarine who had walked up to him. He gestured to the other Deathwatch marines, many of whom were unhappy at the choice before them “As you say, Lord Calgar. That should be the last of my weapons, sir.”

 “... Follow me, then.” Calgar ordered after staring at him for a long moment, his red bionic eye glaring harshly in the morning light. 

“As you command, sir.” TItus answered back, suppressing the bitterness at the sight of the fucker who’d taken his place - the white and red plume on his helmet marking him as a noble of Talassar. Of course he’d been replaced by a noble. There had been so much bitching about the fact that he, of low-born blood, had managed to attain such a prestigious rank in the first place. 

The fact that he’d been shuffled off to the Inquisition at the first major opportunity to do so had been a surprise at the time, but one that Titus should have realized in hindsight was coming. He followed silently after Calgar, able to keep up with the larger Marine, and keeping a respectful three step distance between himself and the other. He could tell that certain parts of the Fortress of Corrections had recently been repaired or rebuilt, though it was unlikely any of the other Deathwatch Astartes would notice, as none of them had spent enough time to know what was a new patch and what had been standing tall for millena. 

They reached an ornate door, where four first company veteran Ultramarines were standing guard in front of. Calgar briefly spoke with the guards before turning to face Titus directly. “You will enter that room alone. If I may offer a bit of advice, it is this; speak with all of the honesty you possess, for the being inside will know if you are attempting deception. I say this not because I think you are dishonest, but as a… Suggestion, based on personal experience.”

With that, two of the Ultramarines opened the doors and Titus stepped inside the room.

~

The first thing he noticed was the scale of the room. It was built large, even by Astartes standards. It had recently been cleaned, as he could smell the faint pall of dust in the air and the sharp scent of cleanser in the air. At the far end of the room stood a large, beautifully charged wooden desk, and sat behind it was an armored figure.

Larger than even Calgar and the other Brothers who wore Terminator plate, sat a figure in the most ornate armor he had ever seen, in Ultramarine colors and heraldry. This person’s helmet had been set down on the desk, and Titus’ eyes caught on the name carved into the other’s right pauldron, the breath catching in his throat.

Guilliman

His knees hit the sturdy stone floor with a brief clang, and TItus respectfully focused his gaze onto the floor near Her desk, unable to bring himself to look upon her visage without being given the privilege directly, his mouth and throat going dry as he registered an immense psychic presence that effortlessly dominated the room. He was no psyker, but his repeated exposure to Chaos and the Immaterium had left him with a slight ability to sense those with psychic potential. 

He did not speak. He barely dared to breathe in her presence, mentally reeling at the fact that his most desperate hope when he’d heard the bits and pieces of what was going on within Ultramar, and the movement of the sons of Guilliman had been since the conclusion of the Ultramar campaign of the Thirteenth Black Crusade were true.

She is alive.

She is awake.

She rules them, once more. 

But what did She want with a disgraced and exiled Astartes like himself? Titus awaited orders, or judgment. Or both. He desperately hoped that she would not find him short of Her standards. 

“Rise, my son. You are Demetrian Titus, yes? Formerly of my second company?” She instructs and asks, her voice clear and heart-stirring.

He immediately obeys her orders, still not daring to look her in the eye “That I am, ma’am.” 

“Did you choose the path of Deathwatch?” She asks.

Titus shakes his head “No ma’am. I was arrested by an Inquisitor at the end of the Graia campaign, after defeating a greater daemon and sealing the breach. I was suspected of Chaos taint. After… After that Inquisitor was arrested and killed for other, unrelated crimes, I and the other Astartes he had in cryo freeze were unthawed and put into the service of the Ordo Xenos. We were told that our chapters considered us dead to them, and did not wish us to return.” That had stung terribly. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d been thought of… Then again, the accusation of Chaos corruption was a devastating blow to anyone’s reputation. Especially an officer’s.

She briefly hummed in response “I see. That is not what your records with the Ultramarines say. They state that you died after heroically sealing the rift on Graia, succumbing to your injuries. I suspect that the Inquisition wanted to keep you and your daemon-slaying skills for themselves, and lied to you, so that you would not try to contact your Brothers.” 

She had no reason to lie to him. This information sent Titus reeling emotionally, though he hoped that none of that played across his face or body. He… Hadn’t been cast away by his Brothers? Part of him wanted to reject that but again… His Primarch had no reason to lie to him about this. “... Oh.”

“Titus… Demetrian. Look at me, please.” Lady Guilliman ordered him, though the order was a gentle one. 

Titus flinched back, having not expected her to use his first name, his eyes snapping up and he briefly looked her directly in her bright blue eyes. Eyes that he’d seen in hundreds of Brothers, before he averted his gaze to one of her shoulders, the enormity of her presence too much for him to handle. “As you command, my Lady.” He murmurs quietly. 

“I am asking if you wish to rejoin the Ultramarines, or if you’d rather stay a member of Deathwatch. You would be a lieutenant, as the position of second Captain has been filled during your presumed death, but you would be able to assume the duties of a lieutenant of the second company, should you wish it.”

Titus had no idea how to react to her incredibly generous offer. He was well aware of the fact that Ultramarines weren’t demoted, just because a superior officer happened to show up after being presumed dead. “I… Do you expect my answer immediately, Lady Primarch?”

The Lady of Ultramar shook her head, a small but gentle smile appearing on her face “If you do not have the answer immediately come to mind, you do have time to consider your options, son.I wanted to give you and the other sons of mine currently in the service to the Inquisition the opportunity to re-join their brothers, and to serve me more directly. If you feel your duties lay with the Deathwatch and the Ordo Xenos, I will respect that decision.”

Son. The word echoed in Titus’ head, to the beating of his hearts. The opportunity to directly serve a Primarch… The last living loyal Primarch stole the breath from his lungs, and made his head swim at the potential prospect. He knew his answer then “I… I would be honored to serve you, in whatever capacity you see fit, my Lady.”

The smile on Her face brightened as she stood up from the chair she’d been sitting in, walking over to where Titus had been kneeling respectfully, offering him a hand. “Your answer gladdens my heart, my son.”

Titus nodded, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with her, as he murmured the Vows of Service and Fealty that he had once sworn to Chapter Master Calgar, upon becoming a fully-fledged Ultramarine, centuries ago, his voice calm and steady as he finished with “-until my final breath, I swear to serve you, Ultramar and the Imperium, my Lady. My Primarch.” Queen Mother. He pressed a penitent kiss to her knuckles, bowing his head forward respectfully.

“Rise, my son. Rise, Demetrian Titus, Lieutenant of the Second Company of my Ultramarines. I will introduce you to your captain tomorrow. For now, take the day to re-acquaint yourself with the Fortress of Hera and move into your quarters here.” She commanded of him.

Titus nodded, wordlessly grateful for her magnanimous gift. “Yes, my lady.” He stood and bowed before leaving, his hearts singing in his chest.

[smittywing]

FicBit: Jason Todd/Tim Drake

Did I almost post "Time Drake"? Yes I did.

I wish I was one of those people who disappears for a week and reappears with a 40k fit, beta'd and finished. But I'm not. So I'm posting it as I get sections done and maybe, someday, it will be a real story.

Jason knew about Tim’s boyfriend nine days and seventeen hours before Tim told him. Not that he gave a fuck about Replacement being queer. Sure, the boyfriend looked like cannon fodder so Jason was going to have to stay sharp when in certain neighborhoods, but he was happy for Tim. 

He was not, as such, happy to be the last person Tim told. And so he might have been a bit of a knob about it. 

“Didn't care when you dated Blondie, don't care about this one,” he said bluntly. “It's not news just cuz it's a guy.”

“Okay, well, fuck you, too,” Tim said, and left. 

It wasn't Jason’s fault Replacement was so damn sensitive. 

~

This thing was, the fact that Tim was dating a guy was *all kinds* of news to Jason's brain. He had been vaguely disinterested in Tim’s love life prior to this, and okay, vaguely disinterested in Tim himself. But now his brain was clocking questions overtime. 

Did Tim and this guy kiss? Make out? Wasn't Tim too bony to make out with? Tim was slighter than even Dick, lithe, but Jason had seen him in shorts and tanks and sometimes shirtless, hell, almost naked. He wasn't *bony* exactly. But he wouldn't be soft.

~

“So you were a shit to Tim,” Dick said.

“What? He went crying to you because I didn't congratulate him on his wokeness?” Jason was actually surprised to hear this. Replacement was usually more inclined to revenge than tattling. Maybe he really was upset. 

“He didn't say anything,” Dick said, restoring Jason’s confidence in Tim’s balls. “But you know what that means.”

Yes. Jason should unplug all his electronics and lie low for a few weeks until Tim’s temper blew over. 

“He put himself out there,” Dick continued. “You could be gracious that he even told you. He really didn't talk to anyone else about it.”

That gave Jason pause. 

“How come no one asks the dead guy who he wants to bang?” he asked, to cover. 

Dick made a face. “If you actually listened to yourself, you would know the answer to that.” 

Jason rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, well, you came back and went right for murder instead of sex,” Dick said after an awkward silence. “Which is fi - no, it's not fine. It wasn’t fine.  It’s not like you’ve been all that upfront about it? Maybe you're ace?”

“Pretty sure that's a no.”

“I’ve never seen you attracted to someone,” Dick countered. 

“Maybe I just have standards,” Jason lied through his teeth. He’d lost his rookie card to Talia, for fuck’s sakes. She was beautiful, sure, but she was goddamn crazy. Also Bruce’s ex. Also Damian’s mother. Also he was going to stop this line of thought right the fuck here. 

[cuddlebugsirius]

Jess’ Top 22 of 2022

I decided to do a fic rec list of my 22 top fics that I read in 2022, from lots of different ships and fandoms. We’re here to celebrate the effort that fellow writers put into creating magic for us all, fanfiction is such a massive part of my life and I think it deserves to have a spotlight shone on it’s greatness. 

[I limited myself to 1 fic/series per author, which was more of a challenge than I thought it would be 😂]

So in no particular order and without further ado...

Bring Him to His Knees - 245k+, Dramione, E Rated

Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting.

Solntse - 60k+, Wolfstar, E Rated

Sirius, a young Russian billionaire hires Remus, who is working part time as a call boy to make ends meet. Things happen, feelings occur.

Did You Miss Me - 640k+, Wolfstar & Jily, E Rated

Though the new boy at Hogwarts University, James Potter, appears to be an adorable himbo with deep pockets, Remus Lupin and his friends instead find a horrifically dark past on Google. Did he really attack that boy and leave him for dead? Why won't he talk about his mysterious childhood best friend, "Pups"? Would it kill him to stop messing with his hair?

At least Remus got his phone back after losing it, but now he can't stop texting the mysterious number of the man who had sent it back. Padfoot is funny and charming, and Remus is NOT going to fall in love with him.

The PB to my J [AKA the one that converted Jess into a Wolfstar writer] - 270k+, Wolfstar, E Rated 

A Modern AU Marauders texting with prose fic set at University.

Mainly Wolfstar - Will they? Won’t they? (They obviously will...) And a little bit of Jily too.

A Second Look - 120k+, Dramione, M Rated

Her best friend's life was a mess and she would have done anything to make things better for him and his sons. So, when she found her former enemy in a similar situation her heart went out to him as well... and the beautiful blond baby in his arms didn't hurt his case. It was certainly enough for her to give him a second look.

oh, I’m gonna let the future in - 40k+, Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Potter, T Rated

Al doesn’t know what he’s doing. Not just with the new apartment, but with his life in general, and it doesn't help that his family quietly looks down on him. It feels as if they’re always waiting for him to do something spectacular, but without actually expecting it of him. They’ve given up on expecting anything of him.

Al only speaks English, and he sings in the shower, badly. He likes tea, and he cleans when he’s stressed. He sees a therapist. He has a total of two friends, and one of them is his cousin. He isn’t smart; he’s simple.

He wishes that could be enough.

Brooklyn Heights Books - 180k+, Stucky, E Rated

A man wearing a light denim jacket over a dark blue shirt came into the shop, a box tucked under his right arm. Despite it being late afternoon, he was wearing sunglasses with bright blue lenses, and his long, dark hair was pulled back in a messy little bun. A few strands had escaped, framing his strong, unshaven jawline. The man looked into the café, smiled widely, and waved in Clint’s direction as he kept walking into the bookstore, and Steve’s mouth went completely dry.

Beautiful, was the only word to describe that smile; straight, white teeth framed by full, lush, red lips, bracketed by laugh lines and an adorable dimple in his right cheek, a charming little chin cleft just visible under the light stubble—Steve was struck literally speechless. And that was before he got a glimpse of the man’s backside. Slim hips and a round, firm-looking ass led to long, lean legs that were encased in snug, dark blue jeans.

“Guh,” Steve said, watching the dark-haired man continue on to the back of the store.

‘tis the damn season - 70k+, Wolfstar, T Rated

“Where are you going?”

Remus turns. Sirius looks delightful; wine-flush and December drizzle painting his pale, pretty face the deepest carmine red. His spindly hands are twiddling at his front, as if he doesn’t know quite what to do with them. He sniffs, and exhales corporeal ice that sends a shiver running down Remus’ spine. He’s not sure if it’s from the cold or the alcohol or… something else.

Clean - 115k+, Dramione, M Rated

Malfoy's handsome face was contoured into a condescending smirk. "No faith in that giant brain of yours, Granger?" She looked up at him defiantly. "Maybe I don't have faith in you!" she said, raising her voice. Malfoy only looked at her. "You'll find I'm very surprising." 

Second Generation - 45k+, Wolfstar, E Rated

Remus Lupin and Sirius Black spent their late teens in a happy haze of sex, troublemaking, and playing in their band, but break up in college. But when their respective children get in trouble together more than 20 years later, Remus and Sirius find themselves at odds with their very different parenting styles and dealing with a spark that was never quite extinguished.

Dreamers - 45k+, Wolfstar, M Rated

In which Sirius did twelve years and meets Remus on a creative writing workshop.

The Searching Ceremonies - 580k+, Sterek, M Rated

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

Quid Pro Quo - 105k+, Darklina, E Rated

The Slow Burn Breeding Kink Political AU

Cannibals - 20k+, Darklina, E Rated

It was very brief, the affair Alina Starkov had with her father.

Or: The Father-Daughter Incest AU

no shelter but mine - 65k+, Darklina, E Rated

“If you’re so worried about your daughter then why are you wasting your time yelling at me instead of caring for her?”

He stills. His fists clench, just once, and she can see the muscles in his jaw working, like it is taking him every ounce of will not to unhinge it, lean across the counter, and rip out her throat with his teeth.

Then he turns, without a word, and storms out the door, the tails of his black coat flying behind him like a cloak. Aleksander is in need of a nanny for his six-month-old daughter. As it so happens, Alina is the only person she likes.

Action - 20k+, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, E Rated

Jaime’s a famous action hero. Brienne is the stunt coordinator on his latest movie. She’s hated him since the moment they met, and the feeling is mutual. But there are ways to work out their aggression.

Lost & Found - 95k+, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, E Rated

When she realizes the husband she knew had departed, and she now had cold & hard mobster in his place, Sansa fakes her death and starts a new life in Wales.

And then Jon finds her.

It gets so hard to breathe (when you’re looking at me) - 57k+, Wolfstar, E Rated

When Sirius turns up at Remus' flat after the events at the Triwizard Tournament, he doesn't expect to find himself sharing a bed with Remus. Or getting so intimately involved in his life. Or to find out that they're mates and Remus wants nothing more than to push him up against the wall and make him forget his own name.

Or to feel so very complete.

But Sirius isn't complaining. Not one bit.

The Player’s Secret - 50k+, Wolfstar, M Rated

“So what’s he like? Full of it? Arrogant?”

“Yes,” he says, because he thinks that is a fair assessment. Sirius Black is full of it. He is arrogant. He’s also entitled and needy and smug. He’s talented, reckless, moody, selfish, childish, charming and sweet, and a million different other things Remus is trying to wrap his head around.

Sirius Black is hard work.

Remus Lupin is a successful documentary filmmaker who is assigned to make a fly-on-the-wall documentary featuring Sirius Black - one of the world's most brilliant footballers - as he competes in the European Championship.

All does not go smoothly.

The Same Way I Like My Coffee - 35k+, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, M Rated

Sansa Stark always liked her coffee hot and sweet. She finally found a guy that makes the sentence "I like my men the same way I like my coffee" real to her.

Jon snow has no right to be that hot.

Or: Sansa opens the coffee shop of her dreams, makes great friends and meets an unbelievably hot Jon Snow.

don’t pout, darling - 70k+, Dramione, E Rated

"when's the last time you let someone take care of you?"

"no one's ever wanted to," her whisper is delicate, sharp like porcelain glass, the edges raw and tender. she is sugar-soft, a little thing tucked into his chest, ears pressed against the heart that beats for her.

"i'll take care of you, i'm always going to take care of you," he cooed. “you're my sweet girl, my baby.”

or: a modern au ddlg fic

when we kiss: mmmm, fire - 39k+, Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, E Rated

Sansa might be seeing someone casually, but thanks to Arya, Robb, and Theon, it’s Jon who’s got the inside track on how to get Sansa to take him seriously.

aka: the one where jon finds out that sansa has a daddy kink, and he uses it to seduce her away from the dating scene and into his arms, heeeey-oh!

[mrs-monaghan]

Was reading this jikook au, and it suddenly got very understandable for me why jk behaved like that with jimin in those early years. The author caught their dynamic so well, even if was a college au.

Jk was totally unprepared for The Park Jimin, didn't know how to react to someone filled with so much love, and being the victim of that amount of love hehe. Boy was probably overwhelmed.

Anyway, here you go if you're a fic reader

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16146362#main

I....... do not read Jikook fanfiction. Idk whether its because they're real people or what? But I don't read like the serious stuff. I only read the twitter crack AUs because they're not to be taken too seriously. Like I have it on good authority this one will make me laugh so I'm reading it tonight. But of course I'll post this for anyone who reads on ao3 to check yours out.

Is it hypocritical of me that I looooove watching them though? For example I've seen everything by this lady. (Warning everything she makes always ends up being Mpreg so maybe stop watching when Jikook get together and are finally happy) I highly recommend her stuff. She comes through with that angst.

I love this one. Have seen it more than once. (Episode 2 is my fav. The angst is sooooo good. The clips chosen for it are perfect 👌🏽 i love it alot)

And this one is a personal favourite. Definitely NOT pG13 👀 but really well done. She always has the right clips for everything

This one also gets quite explic!t when Jikook get together so definitely don't watch on the big screen when kids are home 😂😂

Also love this one

I've seen all their stuff but these 4 are my fav.

Now to some short AUs that I love. First of all, if you're not following Arch on twitter you are missing out!!

This one is my fav 🥵 -- Hindsight.

Damn! 🔥 And then it ends up here

I really shouldn't recommend this one because (we don't talk about Yoonmin) its not a Jikook happy ending. But it hurts so good 😭😭😭 OP somehow managed to find a clip of JK with his voice breaking and my heart clenches every single time 😩😩 No, but really watch this one at your own risk.

I think some of you might enjoy this a bit too much but I quite like it. V's boyfriend cheats on him with his bestfriend and well... poor V 😪

I think its well done. It has 47k views and I believe the 40k are me 🤭🤭

What happens when Jimin gets kidnapped? This one is amazing!! 💚💚💚💚

Eh? This one 👏🏾👏🏾👏🏾

This is just sweet and cute.

I love this one alot 🥰🥰

I don't read but I enjoy my fair share of watching. It's funny because I don't imagine Koreans would enjoy these things since they know what the members are actually saying 😂😂😂 Anyway, whoever chooses to watch these have fun. I'm sure YT will recommend many more once you're done. Enjoy!

[smolsleepyfox]

The brick factory theory of hyperfixations:

I've been thinking a few things over recently and I've realized that working on anything - for me at least - is kinda like a brick factory. There has to be a continuous chain from the supply to the oven because if there are delays, the oven gets cold and it's hard to (re)start.

Examples:

- I have the idea for an artwork. I find a book I like. Unfortunately I don't have time to get to it now. = The fire is on, but there are no workers to put in the bricks. Once the workers are back, the fire has died down.

- I pick up the artwork/book/story when I feel mildly inclined and end up finishing it in one go, sometimes in sessions of 10+ hours = A few days/months/years later the order is rediscovered on a shelf so they make everything in one go. Once the oven is on, it's on, and it's best to get it done.

- I write 40k words within days. I go on a trip, leaving detailed notes to get back to. = The workers are on vacation, and while the oven is prepared, reigniting the fire will be much harder because it's properly cold instead of smoldering.How easy it is to start the oven depends heavily on the weather (mood, circumstances), but generally it's easier once the oven is on.

I have some interests that I dabble in less intensely, most neurodivergent people do. That's like having a small home kiln that is just kinda smoldering in the background most of the time, but it's no big deal if it goes out for a bit and tends to reignite spontaneously at some point.

Here's the thing: These are all things I enjoy doing. I like writing and reading and drawing. Of course I can be forced into doing things by circumstance. If there's an order for bricks by the higher-ups (my course has me write an essay), I'll make some damn bricks, but it will be difficult to start the oven unless I find some embers first (previous knowledge, interest, notes), and maybe the oven is just in a bad state rn or the brick-making paste isn't good. Brute-forcing it is possible, but the workers will be stressed and the quality probably not great, and it probably fucks with your line.

The common thread here is that I, as a person, have very little control over the fire. It's fire, you don't control it. I can manage my energy (fuel) and make sure the production line runs smoothly so we don't have too little or too many raw bricks coming, but sometimes there is a freak gust of wind, or the line is shut down because of the holidays, or someone spills a bucket of cleaning water on the oven. And then the fire is out and you stand there with a bunch of wet bricks and think "well shit".

It's down to neurotransmitters, energy levels, and as far as I can tell, the mood of a single crab in the Caribbean. If you fall into the fire, no amount of discipline will stop you from burning.

Okay this metaphor isn't perfect and I've never actually made bricks but you get what I mean.

[stitchyarts]

Stitchy’s 2022 fic round up!

I’ve been having a really tough few months, so I thought it’d be nice to take a look back at my writing this year, and see the good! I did a lot of longer pieces that I’m really proud of. Maybe you missed a few, or maybe you crossed my path in one fandom, but would be interested to see what I was up to in another, too!

The Return- 1990 IT miniseries, Richie/Eddie, 26k. A backbreakingly canon compliant fix it. The Losers have lost their memory of IT and moved on with their lives. Eddie is resurrected, and starting over on his own terms- except for one tiny catch. Bonus Maturin!! 🐢

The No Weddings Vow- 1990 IT miniseries, Richie/Eddie, Richie&Bev, 30k. Essentially a remix of The Wedding Singer. Richie’s FWB Bev is marrying Shitty Reganite Tom, so he enlists Tom’s driver Eddie to help him sabotage the wedding! Bonus Richie Sister and Nieces, and Outrageous Old Lady Neighbor 👵🏼

Message in a Marmalade Jar- OFMD, Stede/Ed, 12k. A straight up post s1 Fix it! Stede chases The Revenge up the coast on a shoestring budget, Ed grieves Stede, and Lucius hopes somebody’s left alive who can read all these damn messages he’s sprinkling behind them. Bonus goats! 🐐

For a Scoundrel is a Wanted Man- OFMD, Stede/Ed, 4k. Just some established relationship lovey dovey smut. Bonus roleplay 🎭

Sincerely, Captain Thomas- OFMD, Stede/Ed, 4k. A post s1 fix it- done as an epistolary! While each is in harbor for repairs, and looking for some self-improvement, Ed and “Captain Thomas” begin exchanging letters. Bonus Mama Teach Feels ❤️

Ship Full of Nobodies- OFMD, Stede/Ed, 9k. A rotating door of POVs, as the crew encounter and are hired by the Caribbean’s Okayest Boss! Bonus Buttons Backstory 🪶

Crossing The Meridian- OFMD, Stede/Ed, 40k. Deaths have been faked, the dust has settled, and now the Revenge is off to start a new career. They just have to cross an entire damn ocean first. At least that gives a skittish Stede plenty of time for to acclimate himself to he and Ed’s physical relationship. Bonus Visting Your Boyfriend’s Hometown 🏚️

The Runaway Star- OFMD, Stede/Ed, 23k. Loosely a Stardust AU! Stede is a star with a literal heart of gold who’s looking for adventure, and Ed’s a worn out pirate who’s only too happy to trade his mantle for it ✨💛✨ Bonus Ed and Mary besties :^)

Alma the Spy- OFMD, Stede/Ed, 26k. An AU where Stede brought the family along pirating! Alma has a blast learning to swashbuckle from THE Blackbeard, who seems to like Father a whole lot more than Mother does. Bonus G rated Fudgeries 👻

That’s a Very Touching Story- OFMD, Stede/Ed, 49k. A divergence from canon, in which Stede is a touch telepath, and Ed has prophetic visions of people’s death. As they’re so deeply attuned, things can’t help but escalate to the most elaborate pirate wedding ever! Bonus silky things for Ed 👘

[vanitaws]

bkdk fic rec list

one shots -> anywhere between 1k and 9k words

hopeless - silverynight - 2k the classic misunderstanding they each like each other but then find out in the end

autumn metamorphosis - s_the_queen - 3.8k bk being a dk simp and being stupidly in love that's all u need to know

a nerd's guide to flirting - saysi writes - 4k bk asks dk for help w/ his crush and dk, not knowing he's the crush, helps bk but is sad about it

nobody expects the baby acquisition - lemonloveheart - 1.4k dk is highkey feral and saves eri like a season too early and now him and bk have to parent her but first aizawa is disturbed in the middle of class

the boy with glitter in his hair - bkdkwritingsdump - 7k (2 chapters) bkdk cinderella au and they immediately fall in love

so kiss me - burritow - 4.6k (4 chapters) text fic where bk keeps typing kiss instead of kill when referring/talking to dk - this leads to some shenanigans

we burn, we glow - s_the_queen - 2.5k soulmate au where when dk's soul mark appears he doesn't think its gonna match bk but little does he know

friends come and go, but fandom is forever - erina - 4.7k todoroki ends up live tweeting bk and dk's shenanigans whilst on a training camp with class 1-a

long-ish -> about 10k to 25k

the kiss - bkdkwritingsdump - 19.2k (12 chapters) deku vs kacchan pt 2 except they kiss at the end and the consequences of that

from i-island with love - neanea321 - 13.3k (10 chapters) q!dk gets trapped on i-island with the lov but manages to finesse his way around, all why bk panics bc how tf is dk gonna protect himself

you dragged me out (of a mile deep hollow) - deadwriter16 - 11k after leaving UA dk is finally back. he gets to spend lots of time with his friends, especially bk, and they finally get to talk

flare guns go off in my head saying not to call you this late - yourenovelidea - 24.5k this one is less bkdk focus but it's still one of my favourites dk loves his friends a lot and he does all he can to show them

if you let my soul out (it will come right back to you) - deadwriter16 - 11.4k again less bkdk focus but i love this fic so much bk cares about his friends and he shows it all the time and sometimes they show him they care as well

17 birthdays and more - purple_anonymous - 12.3k bk plans an entire bday party for dk which dk loves except he takes no credit for it

long -> 25k+

notice me, nerd - useless_donut - 40k (26 chapters) bk is hopelessly in love with dk and shows it in everything he's does, however dk doesn't realise and class 1-a have to watch them while suffering for their obliviousness

mollitudo - anoksun - 66.8k (18 chapters) dk gets kidnapped, and when he is found he is changed forever. before disappearing bk and dk had begun to rebuild their friendship and now bk has to help while dk recovers

great explosion murder god dynamight: a narrative - deadwriter16 - 72k (20 chapters) bk lets himself love and its the best thing he's ever done in his life

are u dating?? - ladyofsnails - 26k (6 chapters) gamer dk lives with his best friend bk who he's lives with, but when bk starts appearing more frequently in his streams dk's viewers have lots of questions like: are they dating?

halfway to the moon (but the sun is so bright) - catsired - 105.6k (29 chapters) middle school bkdk where dk is depressed and bk will notice ... eventually

honeydew (or 5 gentle moments between izuku and katsuki) - elegant_tree - 31.5k (5 chapters) dk doesn't know soft touches so bk fixes that - aka touch starved dk and indulgent bk

also gonna tag my bkdk playlist here as well

[six-of-ravens]

It's that time of year again! Time for my list of potential nano plots that I may or may not choose and might decide against at the last minute, but I like listing anyways.

Option 1: Maud Grey's Halfway Home for Failed Magicians (Rewrite)

Basic plot: A wizard in a fantasy world attempts to create a portal to another world, however he apparently fails and wakes up in a remote, isolated Home where magicians supposedly recover from the damage done by their failed workings. There he realizes he has actually developed a psychic link with a high school student in another world. Meanwhile, all is not well in the Home, and the mysteries keep piling up. Ales and Violet must work together to open a real portal before their mistakes and the mistakes of those who came before catch up with them

Pros: this would be a rewrite of my 2020 nano, so I have somewhat of a plot to work off of. Also have a lot of great worldbuilding ideas for this fantasy world that were not in the original so those will be fun

Cons: I tried rereading my 2020 nano a couple days ago and y'all....it is rough. ROUGH. i tried this stupid 3rd person omnicient point of view that SUCKS, and also gave my teen MC my personal anxiety struggles from when I was 16 and...dropped them a couple thousand words in when I realized that I could not possibly motivate her to do anything in that state. There's a reason I was a basement dwelling weeb teenager. I can fix all that in a rewrite but the cringe is just. lowkey killing me OTL.

Option 2: The One Set in the 50s

Basic plot: a young theoretical physicist and his new wife sign on to work at a privately-funded experimental facility in the middle of nowhere. While he works in the lab, she will be working too--for the entire community is a social experiment of uncertain purpose.

Pros: Brand new! Both in terms of not having been done before as a nano and being a new genre and character archetypes for me. I think this could be very creatively beneficial and fun!

Cons: Since it's new, it'll probably be Difficult to either plot or figure out the characters/setting etc, and I struggle with Difficult writing things nowadays (see: last year's nano that I gave up on like 10k words into).

Option 3: Bright Eyes (Rewrite 1.5)

Basic plot: this was my nano from 2018. A bunch of young adults in a college town in the mountains are blackmailed by the local faeries into solving a bunch of murders. There's monsterfucking. Alien conspiracies. Queer drama. Sheltered, closeted, and isolated teens figuring out adult life. Someone's weird cousin who's just there. You know the guy.

Pros: a rewrite, so easier because again: most of a plot is already formed. Lots of characters and situations I enjoy.

Cons: tried to rewrite this one already (and then somehow lost that draft??), and I suspect it doesn't need a full rewrite so much as a boatload of editing, which doesn't make it great nano material

Option 4: Medieval!AU Fanfic of My Own Damn OCs (copout)

Basic plot: okay so, these characters are all ripped from another story that will Never see the light of day (it's one of those Daydream Tales that simply cannot be written on paper), I just chucked them in a castle to see what would happen. Prince Terrance is arranged to marry the daughter of the most powerful wizard in the kingdom, but when she arrives it becomes clear that the wizard has bigger plans than being a royal-adjacent parent-in-law. Shenanigans ensue.

Pros: this would be just for the lulz without any pressure or expectation that anyone would ever have to see it. could literally sit down every day and smash random words into a doc like this is a medieval soap opera, no pressure.

Cons: once again I worry that I might run out of plot. As with any story with a romance, I think the ~main couple~ would get together pretty fast bc I'm just not interested in writing slow-burn pining and whining (read? yes. write? kill me.) and then....what? 40k more words to fill with wizardly evil plots. Hm.

[ceph-the-ghost-writer]

Writer Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @lividdreamz!

No pressure tag @cljordan-imperium @mercurialsmile @late-to-the-fandom @space-cadead @mjjune @vacantgodling @korblez/@outpost51 @juls-writes @thatndginger and just @ me for anyone who wants to seize an open tag!

Do you write in order?

Mostly, though lately I've gotten into the habit of scribbling down scenes which may (or may not) appear until much later than where I currently am in the plot. Or just snippets formed from a detail a character mentions in passing. I figure why not just release these ideas into the wild instead of letting them flutter around and bang against the inside of my skull for who knows how long? I can always rework them later.

Do you start with something particular?

Usually a scene or situation for a new idea or character. With more established characters, though, I just start putting them in Situations and see what happens, like I'm playing with dolls.

How fully formed does your writing come out the first try?

It's fully formed in the sense that I rarely use placeholders or skip whole scenes (though I should probably start to if I want to be more productive). But it's not really "done" since I still have to assess whether the tone, events, character arcs, etc. match up to whatever idea I was going for. (And if I even still want to go with that idea--which is where the concept of AUs come in handy, saving me from myself.)

How many drafts do you go through?

As many as it takes, friends. It comes down to defining themes/ideas at the core of a story for me, I guess. Once I feel I have a solid foundation with those, I can remodel whatever I built on top as needed and claim the minor imperfections just add character.

Tell me about your process?

I'm an incorrigible pantser, I'm afraid. 😔 But there is some method to be found in the madness. Maybe. Just a little.

So, it goes something like this. I usually start with a scene that pops into my head, either purely imagined or inspired by a prompt/comment. Say, Human is taken captive by handsome yet murderous Vampire, for example. I immediately start asking questions.

What does each want? (Human: to survive; Vampire: that sweet, sweet vein juice)

How did the characters get into this situation? (Human: wrong place, wrong time; Vampire: hungry, has chosen to kill humans)

Okay, what was Human doing at the wrong place, and does that mean Vampire doesn't need to kill humans? (1. He's part of a supernatural research organization, that sounds like it'd be cool, right?; 2. Yes. Maybe Vampire is part of a rival, evil organization?)

Crap, now I have to come up with secret organizations. (The Coven and Unseen Hand are born.)

Why doesn't Vampire just kill Human? It's the smartest thing and he has the upper hand. (Because he thinks Human is amusing/sexy?)

I'm ace. There needs to be a more compelling reason than just sex appeal if I'm going to keep writing this. (Fine, fine. Maybe Vampire senses something's off? Has an attack of conscience?)

Now I have to explore this character's entire backstory and psychological profile, don't I? Damn it! (Cut to 40k+ words later, with plans to explore a magical revolution that takes place on a near-future Earth, spanning multiple books, protagonists, and themes. Ace rights. 🖤🤍💜)

It's way messier and more drawn out than that, but you get the gist. I just start asking questions until I have enough raw material to build a story. Following drafts are to make sure the structure's sound, get rid of loose ends, pretty everything up, etc.

[khoicesbyk]

The Royal Romance.

Love Everlasting.

A/N: I had a different name and plot for this fic over a year ago. But after being in the RP community for more than a year, I've decided to write the current Royal Life of my favorite OTP.

Rated: Mature (at times can and will be Explicit. I'll be sure to change the rating when and if that happens). | Contains sexual content and strong language. (You know? The usual. Y'all should be used to this from me by now 😁) | Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters. | Main Characters: King Marquise Rys (LI) and Queen Shanelle Miller-Rys (MC) | All Characters and names: (except MC and original characters created by me and/or other authors [their characters have been mentioned and/or used in the story with their permission] ) are property of Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 40K words. (may be slightly more or may be slightly less. Look, I stop counting after editing and re-editing and driving myself insane. 🤷🏾‍♀️).

If you’d like to be added to my tag list. Just reblog or dm me and I will gladly add you! 😁😘

This series is rated Mature and/or Explicit. It is NOT reading material that is safe for those under 18. Reader discretion is STRONGLY advised!

Missing a chapter or want to read a chapter again? I got you covered! Click ——> Here!

Tag List: @choicesficwriterscreations @shewillreadyou @txemrn @twinkleallnight @peonierose

This goes without saying but MAJOR SHOUTOUT AND THANK YOU TO @shewillreadyou! I swear! She always helps me untangle the tangled mess that is known as my brain when it comes to writing and story ideas. I love you girl! 😘

Listen this chapter has 8 different ideas and story plots that I had all dumped into one chapter. Hence why it is so damn long. I just kept writing until I knew it was done. This will be a four-part chapter. This is part one.

Chapter 7.) One Last Goodbye. Part 1.

Shanelle was sitting at her desk going over her business model for Rys International with a fine tooth comb, when her phone started to vibrate. When she looked at who was calling her on FaceTime she rolled her eyes. It was her best friend's twin brother Cassian, who just happened to be her childhood ex-boyfriend.

“Hello?” 

“What the hell is wrong with you Shanelle?” he asked. 

“Excuse me?”

“When were you going to tell me Nina was in rehab?!”

Shanelle looked around like she was hearing things. 

“First of all, who the fuck are you talking to like that? Second, I didn't tell you because it wasn't my story to tell.”

“I had a right to know!” he snapped at her. 

“Cass. You got one more time to raise your voice at me before I make you a distant memory.”

Cassian backed down.

“When did this all happen?” he asked. 

“The night she came home,” Shanelle replied.

Cass shook his head. 

“Well, that explains why you walked right past me and didn't say anything that night at the hospital.”

“Your memory must be slipping. Because I stopped talking to you long before she came home. Why the hell would I have talked to you that night?” Shanelle asked. 

“Because I'm her brother Princess,” he replied.

“That's Queen you dick!” she hissed. 

“You should've told me, Shanelle.”

“Okay, I'm gonna say this again. No, I shouldn't have.”

“I'm her brother. I should've been kept in the loop.”

“Exactly. You’re her brother. Not your father. Although you constantly like to act like your dad.”

Shanelle watched him roll his eyes.

“How did she even get to rehab?” he asked.

“Not that I owe you an explanation but, remember when she moved in with me when I worked in D.C. for a few months?” 

“Yeah, what about it?” he asked.

“That was the cover story we came up with to put your parents at ease. The truth is she wasn't staying with me, at least not the whole time. She was an hour away at an inpatient rehab facility in Virginia. And before you go flying off the rails, I called and checked on her every day. And she was allowed to come to my place on weekend passes. I made sure to keep up with the staff treating her. And when she got clean and felt strong enough, she went back to New York, and moved in with Chut and continued at an outpatient rehab facility.” 

“And you didn't think I needed to know any of this?” he asked Shanelle.

“Nope. Not in the least. My priority was her and her well-being not you and your need to know. Besides, the last thing she needed at that time was you and your constant condescendence.” she replied.

“That is not fair and you know it Shanelle.”

“Yeah well, neither is life, Cass. But hey! We all gotta deal with it somehow.” 

“Whatever.”

“Yeah. So are we done here?” she asked. 

“No. I'm not letting you off the hook that easily,” he replied.

Shanelle groaned. 

“Last time I checked, I don't answer to you. Hell, I don't answer anyone for that matter.”

“You could've told my parents. Hell, you could've told Chut or my brother. But you decided to keep your mouth shut. You decided to keep her family in the dark.”

“Yeah, I did. Because I had to, she begged me to keep quiet. It was the only way she would ever agree to go to rehab. So I swore to her that night that I would take it to my grave. Only she and I would know. She needed help, Cass. And I did what I had to do to get her that help. And if it bothers you that I didn't tell you or anyone else, then it's just gonna have to bother you. Because I will never apologize for helping her and not telling you about it.” 

“You have a really misconstrued view of what loyalty means Shanelle.”

“First of all, go fuck yourself. Second, hello pot. My name is kettle. You wouldn't happen to be calling me black, would you?”

“I would've told you if the roles were reversed, Shanelle.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes. 

“A.) you’re lying through your teeth. Which means  B.) you wouldn't have said a damn thing to me.” 

“I'm not lying.”

Shanelle pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I know I've said this to you before Cass, but I'll go ahead and say it again for old time's sake: you are a terrible fucking liar. You have a Tell, you idiot. And it's quite literally the easiest thing in the world to spot.” 

She watched him cut his eyes at her.

“How did you even find this rehab place in Virginia?” he asked.

“The Cordonian Consulate hosted an event for a D.C. charity that provided rehab services to veterans. So I called the director of the charity and he put me in touch with the rehab facility and the rest is ancient history. Or it should be.” she replied.

“So you got her in for free?” he asked.

“Nope. I had to pay for it.”

“How were you able to do that?” he asked.

“I did what I always did. I signed my father’s signature on a check,” she replied.

“You committed check fraud?! What is wrong with you?!” he asked.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Are you complaining? You? Mr. ‘Hey Nelle. Listen um I don't mean to ask this but I'm a little short this month, do you think you can help me out a little bit?’ Are we really having THAT conversation?” 

Cassian kept his mouth shut.

“Oh, well would you look at that? Sweet silence!”

Cass let out a frustrated sigh.

“How much was the check?” he asked. 

Shanelle shrugged.

“$9,800.00 for six months inpatient,” she replied. 

“Does your father know you forged his name on a check that big?” 

“No, he doesn't. At least he doesn't know about it to my knowledge. But my husband knows about it.” 

“Oh so you can tell him but you couldn't tell me?!” he asked.

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“No, I didn't tell him. There was a 7-day hold put on the check because it was way over the international limit of $5,000.00.” she replied.

“Meaning what?” he asked. 

“Meaning that since it was written from my dad’s Cordonian Account, it had to be cleared by The Royal Treasury. And at that time, Marquise was the head of the Treasury so he was the one who had to clear it.” she replied.

Cass scoffed.

“So he busted you?” he asked. 

“Yeah. He figured out that my dad didn't write the check, so he called and asked why I wrote a check that big. All I told him was it was an emergency and that I needed the check cleared immediately. He cleared it and warned me never to write a check that big without telling him first. Otherwise, I would've had to get approval from either his father or my uncle at the time. And he knew that I would rather have a root canal from Edward Scissorhands without any Novocaine than face either one of them.” she replied. 

Cass shook his head.

“You're lucky I don't have my badge anymore.”

“Oh bitch, please! Even if you had that stupid ass badge you still wouldn't have been able to do shit about it.”

“I could've busted you for check fraud Shanelle.”

“First off, you God awful twat, you were a low-level marshal! You couldn't bust anybody. Second, Diplomatic Immunity exists for a reason. Third, even if you were somehow able to bust me for it, you'd then have to turn around and explain every single check that I ever wrote for you, because of course there is a record of each check.”

She watched a muscle in his jaw tick.

“So in conclusion, I'm gonna need you to get off your self-righteous high horse. Because you are no hero. You love to act like one because you have a severely fucked up hero complex that isn't satisfied unless you’re riding in on your white horse to save the day, but you sir are no hero. Far fucking from it.”

“You always did know how to cover your tracks.” he sneered. 

“I know you mean that to be an insult Cass, but I'm choosing to take it as a compliment. Because you’re right, I do know how to cover my tracks. That's why I'm a lot better at playing the game called life than you are.” 

She watched as Cass rolled his eyes.

“Now, are we done?” she asked.

“I should be even more pissed at you than I actually am.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“My dear Cassian. Allow me to say this so that it is crystal clear: I don't give a flying fuck about you being pissed at me. I did what I had to do and I would do it again.”

“That's the problem. But I am thankful that you were there for Nina. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that.”

Shanelle scoffed. 

“Classic Cassian Keane ladies and gentlemen. You are STILL the same pigheaded, impulsive, arrogant idiot that you have always been. You never change.”

Cass shook his head.

“Could be worse. You could've called me a son of a bitch.”

“Nope. Calling you a son of a bitch is an insult to your mother. I'd rather just call you a piece of shit.”

Cass sighed.

“Thank you, Shanelle. I don’t understand why she didn't lean on family. But at least she had you to turn to. And whether you believe me or not, that means a lot to me.”

Shanelle scoffed. 

“You're right. I don't believe you. Not for a second. Because knowing you, you don't mean it. But you’re welcome all the same. She would've done the same thing for me.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Good. Now get ya sorry ass off my phone.” 

“Bye Princess.”

With that Shanelle hung up the phone with a groan, just as her husband walked into her office.

“Uh oh. I know that look on your face. What happened?” he asked her.

“You will not believe who just called me,” she replied.

Marquise started to guess.

“Your father?” 

“Nope.”

“Your cousin?”

“I would never be that lucky.”

“Okay then who called?” he asked.

“Good old Cassian Keane,” she replied.

Marquise rolled his eyes. 

“Why did he call you? Also, why does he still have your number?” he asked.

“A.) It was a FaceTime call. B.) it was about Nina,” she replied.

“What about her? Is she okay?” he asked as he sat on the edge of her desk.

“She's fine. Do you remember the check I wrote from my dad’s account a few years ago for almost $10,000.00?” she asked.

“Yeah. What about it?” He replied.

“I wrote that check so she could get into rehab without anyone knowing.”

Marquise nodded.

“That's what you meant by it was an emergency.”

“Yeah.”

“So how did he find out about it?” he asked.

“Nina’s personal page on Instagram went dark a few days ago. And nobody could find her. So Cass and Lo hopped on a plane to New York and when they got to Nina’s they found Fentanyl in her bathroom.” she replied.

Marquise exhaled slowly.

“Damn.”

“It wasn't hers.”

“Then who's was it?” he asked.

“It was Sam’s.”

Marquise choked on a laugh.

“Wait! Are you telling me that Sam Dalton is using?” he asked.

“No. At least I hope not. It apparently belonged to his dead wife. And he carries it as a reminder to not be neglectful and be present in someone's life.” she replies.

“So, what does any of that have to do with you?” he asked.

“The boys got the girls and me together to talk about it and I let it slip that she had gone to rehab.” she replied with a sigh, “I can't believe I didn't trust her enough to know she would never go back. She probably hates me right now.”

That's when Marquise stood up and then pulled her to her feet and into his arms.

“Stop that. She doesn't hate you.”

“You don't understand, I promised her that no one would ever find out. Not even you. And I panicked and blurted it out to our entire family.”

“My love, that just proves why you’re her best friend. You kept this a secret from even me, your husband, for a reason. Just so you could protect Nina. You shouldn't feel guilty about that.” 

“You sure?” she asked.

“Positive,” he replied before softly kissing her forehead. 

“Then why do I feel so horrible?” she asked.

“Because I know you. I know how your emotions work. You feel like you betrayed her but I promise you that you didn't. She's not gonna love you any less because you told everyone. My love, you helped save her life. She can never hate you for that.” he replied. 

Shanelle smiled softly.

“I don’t know why I'm so in my head about this.”

“Because that idiot called, riled you up, and it upset you that's why. You swore to your best friend who needed help at one of the most difficult times of her life that you wouldn't say anything. And no matter how upset your ex is, even he can't hold that against you.” 

“How much do you wanna bet that he will?” she asked. 

“If he does then I will deal with him,” he replied. 

“Ever the Knight, my King.”

He chuckled low.

“For you? Always my Queen.” 

Just then there was a knock on her office door from an attendant carrying a large box. 

“Pardon me, Your Majesties. But this came for the Queen, and I was instructed by Mrs. Geaneaux to deliver it to you.” the attendant said as he set the box down. 

“Thank you very much,” Shanelle replied with a smile.

“You're very Welcome, my Queen.” the attendant replied before he walked out. 

Marquise looked at the box with an eyebrow raised. 

“Now what could this be?” he asked as he reached for the box.

“Quit being nosy! It's addressed to me. Not you, Your Majesty.” Shanelle replied as she swatted his hand away.

“First of all, ow! That was uncalled for! Secondly, it's in my palace.”

“Our palace sir.” Shanelle corrected him.

Marquise shook his head with a smirk.

“Okay fine. It's our palace. Now, what's in the box?”

“What do you care?” she asked. 

“Call it curiosity killing my cat,” he replied. 

Shanelle rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she read the shipping label on the box.

“Ahh. This must be one of the boxes I had when I moved back to Boston. The shipping label is covering what it says is inside it.”

“What's in it?” he asks.

“Nosy ass!” she replied.

“Very. Now let's open this box.”

Shanelle took a letter opener out of her desk and opened the box. In it were several old photos, old birthday cards, her old diary, her high school yearbooks, and one item she had completely forgotten she had packed. 

“Why do you have a jacket in this box?” Marquise asks as he peered inside.

“It's not mine,” she replied as she glanced at it.

“Okay, then whose jacket is it?” 

“This is Cass’s letter jacket that he got our senior year.” 

“Why do you still have his old letter jacket and why does it smell like mothballs?” he asks. 

“Because he left it at my parent's house and never came to get it before I moved. I must've packed it out of habit.”

Shanelle saw the look on her husband's face and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“You're not jealous are you, Your Majesty?” she asked teasingly.

“Hardly,” he replied. 

“Liar.”

Marquise gave her a side-eye.

“I'm not lying.” 

“Marquise, the same way I know when Cass is lying is the same way I know when you’re lying. You two dumbasses wear your jealousy, annoyance, and anger on your sleeves.”

Marquise had a disgusted look on his face. 

“Did you just compare me to your ex?” he asked. 

Shanelle shrugged with a smirk.

“I can not believe that you just compared me to him.”

“Not my fault you and him are two sides of the same idiot coin.”

“I don't have to stand here and take this slander from you! I'm a King dammit!”

“You forget how easily I can read people. Especially the two of you.”

“You dare insult your King?!” he asked in mocking disgust.

Shanelle winked at her husband.

“Yes, I dare to insult my King,” she replied with a smirk that matched his.

“That's it! I'm leaving! I will not just stand around and be insulted like this!”

Shanelle shook her head with a smile.

“See you later babe.”

“I'll see you later, my love.”

With a quick yet sweet kiss, Marquise was out the door. Leaving Shanelle to reminisce about her past life. Before she had kids, King, and a kingdom to call home.

As a kid growing up in Brooklyn, life was as simple as it gets for Shanelle. Her dad worked at the United Nations as Ambassador of Cordonia and her mother was a 5th-grade teacher at the time. She had her best friends Nina and Chutney. The three amigos. They were always together. Always running every classroom they were in together. Especially her mother’s 5th-grade class. Try as Shantel might, she couldn't separate the girls. 

And then there was Cassian. He was her childhood sweetheart and she was his. They had been together for as long as she had known him and his twin sister. When her grandfather died, Cass was there. When she needed him, he was always there. Whether or not he liked getting bossed around by her was another story. Like the one time, they went to the movies.

“How much farther?” he asked her over his shoulder.

“Just a few more steps. Stop complaining,” she replied.

“My arms are getting tired, Princess.”

“Well, that's what you get for having pseudo-chivalry.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“It means you don't want me to carry anything because according to you, the guy in the relationship never lets the girl in the relationship carry anything, just for you to turn around and constantly complain about having to always carry everything,” she replied

“Okay, if I drop all this stuff because my arms fell off.”

“Cass, if you drop damn near 28 dollars worth of popcorn, candy, chili cheese dogs, drinks, and those nasty ass Coney corn dogs that you love so much, that I paid for, I will kick your ass from here to kingdom come.” 

Cass grumbled under his breath but kept walking down the steps to their seats. 

“Stop and turn to the right,” she said to him.

He stopped and turned to the right. 

“Keep walking…and stop,” she instructed.

He walked 5 steps and then stopped.

“Now you can sit down.”

“Finally,” he said as he sat down slowly.

“Exactly. Now if you'd be so kind as to hand me my food.”

She took her chili cheese dogs, a box of M&M's, her drink, and a small popcorn and sat down. Cass looked over.

“Greedy ass.” 

Shanelle set her drink down.

“You get three loaded corn dogs, two boxes of Peanut M&M's, one box of plain M&M's, a large Coke, and two boxes of Reese's Pieces on top of the large popcorn with extra butter and salt. But I'm the greedy one?” she asked.

“Yes. That’s way too many calories.” He replied.

“Hotshot, you’re literally eating your way to clogged arteries and type 2 diabetes. Also, you forget I have track practice after we leave here. So unlike you, I will burn these calories off.” 

“Still too many calories, Princess.”

Just as Shanelle started to speak up the previews started. 

“Saved by the previews,” Cass said triumphantly.

Shanelle rolled her eyes and went back to eating her food. Only to feel his arm around her shoulders. She laid her head on his shoulder.

“Wanna bite?” she asked him, holding up the chili cheese dog in her hand. 

“Nah. I'm good. Thank you. By the way, what time is your track meet next Saturday?” he replied.

“1:00 PM. But I have to be there at 10:00 AM. Coach Howard’s orders.”

Cass scoffed.

“I still don't like her.”

Shanelle snickered.

“That's only because she said you have chicken legs. And she wasn't wrong.”

“Who's side are you on?” he asked. 

“Mine,” she replied. 

Cass rolled his eyes with a smile.

They were together all through middle and high school. Made plans to be together forever. Even though he had objections to always being bossed around by her. After graduating, each went off to different colleges. It was a long-distance relationship but they vowed to make it work. And it did work until it didn't. 

They went from texting and checking in with each other every day. To once a day, to once a week, to sparingly, to complete radio silence throughout her freshman and sophomore years. And Shanelle couldn't figure out why. No matter how many times she texted or called, he never answered. So she decided to drive to see him at school. She had to know why he wouldn't talk to her. 

After texting his then-classmate Robin, she hopped into her Jeep and drove 5 hours from Boston to Philadelphia to see him. When she pulled into the dorm parking lot, she met Robin outside.

“Hey, babe. Are you sure you’re okay?” Robin asked Shanelle.

“I will be once I talk to him. Have you seen him?” Shanelle replied.

Robin scoffed. 

“Not lately. The knucklehead has been avoiding me.”

Shanelle shook her head. 

“Probably because of me.”

“If that's true, I am gonna beat him within an inch of his life.”

Shanelle scoffed. 

“You get whatever part of him that I don't beat, break, batter, or bruise.” 

Robin nodded.

“He always said that you have a scary right hook.”

“And if he doesn't answer the door, you'll get a front-row seat to what happens.”

They walked into the coed dorm. When they got outside his dorm, Shanelle started to wonder if this was the right thing to do.

“Rob, can I ask you something?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Robin replied.

“Am I tripping? Should I even be here?” she asked.

“No, you’re not tripping and yes you should be here. You have tried to contact him every which way. And he's just been silent. At the very least he could explain why he's been silent. He owes you that.”

Shanelle closed her eyes and nodded.

“You're right. Thank you. That's why I like you. Well, that and the fact that since I'm not here to get on his ass, someone has to.”

“Thank you. And to think your man was scared for us to meet. And now he hates it that we met.”

Shanelle snickered.

“That's because we became friends and his worst nightmare.”

Just as Shanelle went to knock on the door, it swung open revealing a shocked and shirtless Cassian. 

“What are you doing here Shanelle?” He asks. 

“I came here looking for you. You haven't been answering the phone and apparently, you've been avoiding Robin. What is going on?” she replied.

“You shouldn't be here, Shanelle,” he said to her. 

She turned to Robin. 

“Give us a minute?” she asked.

“Sure. I gotta get ready for my next class anyway.” Robin replied. 

“Okay. I'll text you later.” 

Robin smiled at Shanelle before walking down the hall to her dorm. Shanelle watched her disappear around a corner before turning back to Cass.

“Go home, Princess. Now.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“I can't.”

“The hell you mean you can't?!” she asks him.

“Look, you just gotta go,” he replied.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

“This is not the time for you to be stubborn!”

Shanelle scoffed. 

“Pot meet kettle.”

“Shanelle please, just go. It's over. There's nothing left.”

“Cass, what are you talking about?” she asked.

“Us, Shanelle. There is no more us,” he replied.

“No. You're not serious.”

“Yeah. I'm serious. It's over between us. Go home.”

Shanelle was stunned. 

“What is happening?” she asked.

“I have to do this. I have to let you go. So go. It's over. There is no more us.” he replies.

“Cass, why are you doing this?” she asks.

“I can't tell you,” he replied.

“What the hell do you mean?” she asks.

“I can't tell you and I'm not going to tell you. So go home!” he growled. 

Shanelle took a step back from him. She couldn't believe what was happening. It was over.

“Wow. Okay then. I guess that's it. I got the answer to the question I had.” 

“I'm sorry, Shanelle. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that.”

“No. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that all I wanted was to get some kind of an answer. I'm sorry that the only place I was ever going to get that answer was from you. I'm sorry that I drove 5 fucking hours for those very answers. I'm sorry that I came all the way here with the hope that if I could've just talked to you and gotten to the bottom of the problem then maybe we could've fixed whatever the issue was between us. I'm sorry that I came all the way here for nothing.”

Shanelle closed her eyes to stop the tears from falling.

“Look Princess, I'm sorry.”

“You know. I always knew you were a lot of things, Cass. But never in my life did I think that you, of all the people in this world, would be a coward.”

“That's not fair Shanelle.”

“Oh! So you wanna talk about what's fair and what isn't?! Okay fine. Let's talk about it, shall we? So it's fair for you to break up with me without at least giving me the common courtesy and decency of telling me why, right? But it's not fair for me to call you a coward? Did I get that right?”

Cass just shook his head. 

“Alright then. I guess I got what I came here for and now I can go.” Shanelle said to him with tears in her eyes.

“Shanelle, you can't drive back to Boston like this.”

She scoffed.

“Why the hell do you care, Cass? It's over between us, remember?” she said to him before walking out of the dorm. 

Shanelle got in her Jeep and peeled out of the dorm parking lot without a second glance back. She got to a stoplight before tears blurred her vision and she couldn't see clearly enough to drive. So she pulled over into a grocery store parking lot, killed the engine, and broke down into tears. It was over. And there was no going back. There was no more pleading for answers. The only thing she could do was pick up the pieces of her broken heart, move on, and move forward. 

Two weeks later after her abrupt breakup, Shanelle started taking classes at a local MMA gym. It was a way for her to channel her anger, learn self-defense, and ease her heartbreak. She spent the next two years, which was also the remainder of her college years going to that gym. She would be in the gym 3 times a week. But little did she know, she was being watched. 

Every day she was at the gym, she would notice three guys always watching her. But she put it out of her mind. What she didn’t know was those three random guys were actually guards the Prince had assigned to follow her and keep tabs on her whereabouts. Within a few days, the guards had her routine down to a science. They knew when she was on campus, where she went for coffee and for lunch, how she trained at the gym, and things like that. Whatever the Prince wanted to know about her, his guards found out. 

He had the guards set up a secret feed at the gym through its shoddy security system so he could watch her train in the gym. He was impressed with how good she was. He knew he would one day want to spar with her, so he began to study her fighting style with his lead guard Alex. 

“She's good Marquise,” Alex said to him. 

“Indeed. That's why we're practicing. I want her to be great. Not just good.”

“From what I've noticed, she's become a master at the chokehold and the armbar. Are you sure you'd want to spar with her?” Alex asked. 

“Yes. By practicing I can learn how to counter her.” Marquise replied.

“Won't that just piss her off even more?” Alex asked.

“That's the point, Alex. The angrier she is, the more adrenaline. She's a fighter who's highly competitive and hates to lose. Now shall we get started?” Marquise asks. 

“Sure. Although she and I are in different weight classes.” Alex replied.

“You'll be alright. This isn't the first time that I've tossed your sorry ass around like a rag doll and it won't be the last time that I've tossed your sorry ass around like a rag doll.”

The two smirked at each other before they began to train. Within 3 weeks, Marquise had her fighting style down and knew how to counter every move in her move set. All while she was none the wiser. 

Meanwhile, Shanelle had another problem that had nothing to do with the Prince but everything to do with her best friend Nina, who had been kidnapped by her abusive ex. It had been 3 months since anyone had heard from Nina, but it didn't take long for her family and friends to realize why. Nina’s ex Slater had kidnapped her and had no plans of ever letting her see the light of day until Nina escaped and was able to make it home. 

Shanelle had come home for Memorial Day weekend and was asleep when her phone started going off. It was Chutney.

“Helluh?” Shanelle answered half asleep.

“Wake up Nelle!” Chutney shouted. Causing Shanelle to bolt straight up in bed.

“What the hell Chut?” Shanelle asked, trying to get her bearings before turning on the bedside light in her room. “Why are you calling at…2 in the morning?”

“It's Nina,” Chutney replied. 

Hearing Nina’s name sent a chill down Shanelle’s spine and she began to fear the worst.

“What about her Chut?” Shanelle asked.

“She's alive! I'm with her now.” Chutney replied. 

“What?! What do you mean she's alive?!” Shanelle asked.

“She showed up at the hospital and they called me,” Chutney answered.

“What hospital?” Shanelle asks.

“Mercy Hospital.” 

Shanelle looked at the time on her phone and made a decision.

“Chut I'm on my way. Do NOT let her leave! Do you hear me?!”

“Yes, I hear you. Just hurry.” 

Shanelle threw on some clothes, grabbed her keys, and nearly broke the sound barrier trying to get to the hospital. She had just gotten into the hospital lobby when she saw Chutney. 

“Where is she, Chut?” Shanelle asks.

“Down the hall. ER room 7. I was able to get her to get some sleep.”

Shanelle nodded.

“Go call your uncle. Tell him she's here and that she's alive.”

“Okay.”

Shanelle hugged Chutney who was shaking.

“It's okay babe. She's home. That's all that matters.”

“I know. I just…she's so scared Nelle.”

“I believe it. As I said, go call your uncle. I'm gonna go talk to her.”

Chutney nodded before going to call Nina’s dad. Shanelle walked down the hall as fast as she could until she got to Nina’s room. When she got there, her heart seized. Nina was alive and asleep at the moment. Shanelle was relieved, terrified, and angry. All at the same time. 

“Nina?” Shanelle asked gently, rousing her from her sleep. Nina slowly woke up and looked sleepily at Shanelle.

“Nelle?” she asked.

“I'm here baby. I'm right here.” Shanelle replied while gently squeezing her hand.

Nina bursts into tears before she threw her arms around Shanelle. 

“I am so happy to see you, baby.”

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

Shanelle hugged her tighter.

“Don't you dare apologize. This wasn't your fault. This is that monster’s fault.”

Nina buried her face into Shanelle’s shoulder and cried. 

“I messed up.”

“No one is mad at you Nina. Certainly not me. I just wanted you home and safe.”

Shanelle rocked her best friend as she cried. 

“I trusted him. And he…”

“Shhh! Baby. You don't have to tell me.”

Nina looked at Shanelle before rolling up her sleeve. Revealing needle marks much to Shanelle’s horror.

“Oh my God.”

“The hospital gave me Narcan.”

Shanelle nodded slowly.

“Do you think you can answer a question for me?” she asked Nina.

Nina nodded.

“Are you going through withdrawals?” she asked her.

Rather than answer Nina just clung to Shanelle.

“My God. I'm so sorry.”

“I said no. I tried to stop him. But he forced me. I tried–”

“Shhh! It's okay babe. You do not need to tell me anything more if you're not ready. Okay?”

Nina nodded. 

“But you need help. You need to get into rehab.”

“No. Shanelle no.”

“Listen to me. The Narcan the hospital gave you will only last for so long. I don't want to see you like this.”

“I can't afford rehab, Nelle. I can't.”

“You won't have to. I'll pay for it.”

“What?! No. I won't let you.”

Shanelle smiled at Nina with tears in her eyes.

“Try and stop me. I will do whatever I have to in order to get you the help you need.”

“You would?” Nina asks.

“Absofuckinglutely!” Shanelle replies.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes. Whatever the costs are, I will pay for them. I don’t care.” Shanelle replied. 

“Okay. I'll go. But you can't tell anyone. Please.”

“I swear to you. I won't tell a soul. It'll be our secret.”

Nina nodded tearily.

“Thank you.”

“It's what best friends are for. We stick together through thick and thin. I got your back. You got mine. Remember?”

Nina nodded just as Chutney returned.

“Nina, your parents and your brothers are here.” Chutney said to the girls. 

“And that's my cue,” Shanelle said.

“You're leaving?” Nina asks.

“Yeah. I don't want to be around your brother right now.” Shanelle replied. 

“Okay.”

Shanelle hugged Nina tightly.

“But I promise. I will come to check on you later. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Shanelle stood up and dried her eyes.

“You call me whenever you need me, alright?”

Nina smiled at her. 

“I love you, Princess.”

“I love you too baby. I'll see you soon.”

Shanelle hugged Chutney just as Nina's family showed up. 

“Thank you for calling me,” she whispered to Chutney.

“Of course. We're the three amigos, remember? We always look out for each other.” 

Shanelle walked down the hall walking past Cassian without so much as a second glance. Within a few days, Shanelle had Nina with her in D.C. and they were getting her settled into the rehab facility.

“Now you have my number, right?” Shanelle asked Nina.

“Yes, mom. I have your number.”

Shanelle snickered. 

“If I want to deal with your sarcasm, I'll call your brother.”

The two laughed. 

“I'll call you if I need anything.”

“Okay. I'm an hour away. Well, 30-45 minutes if I don't do the speed limit.”

Nina snorted before shaking her head.

“Get some rest, love.”

“Will do.”

A week after getting Nina settled, Shanelle was sitting on her couch flipping channels, when she got a surprise late-night FaceTime call from the Prince himself. 

“Hello?”

“Well hello, Princess.”

“Good Evening Your Majesty.”

“It's Your Highness, love,” he replied, correcting her. 

“Your Highness, what can I do for you?” she asks.

“I'll get right to it. Have you spoken to your father?” he asked.

“No. Not today anyway. Why?” she replied.

“Well because of a curious thing. Did you know he wrote a check for nearly $10,000.00?” he asks.

“No. I had no clue,” she replied.

“Are you sure, Princess?” he asks.

“Your Highness, why would I know anything about the checks he writes?” she replied.

“Because you see the thing is, he didn't write a check for nearly $10,000.00. And neither did your mother.”

Shanelle went quiet. She was busted. 

“Princess, why are you writing checks in your father's name?” he asks. 

She cursed under her breath.

“I had to. It was an emergency,” she replied. 

“A $10,000.00 emergency?” he asks.

“Yes. How did you figure out he didn't write the check?” she replied.

“I'm glad you asked. It was quite easy actually, had he written it, he would've never gone over the international limit of $5,000.00. It's not his style. Not without alerting the Royal Treasury. But you on the other hand.”

Shanelle groaned.

“Also there's a hold on the check until it gets cleared by the Treasury.”

“What do you mean there's a hold on the check?” she asked.

“Every time a check is written over the allotted amount, a 7-day hold is placed on said check. It's standard procedure,” he replies.

“Would it be too much to ask for you to go ahead and clear the check?” she asked.

“It must be important to you,” he replied.

“It is. I need it cleared immediately. Please.”

The look on his face was unreadable and when he switched his camera off, Shanelle started to panic.

“Done.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, Princess. It's been cleared,” he replies.

She let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Marquise.”

“You're welcome. Now I want you to listen to me and listen closely. Don't you ever write a check for that big of an amount without telling me first.”

“Why? What's the big deal?” she asked.

“The big deal is if I hadn't caught it and cleared the check you wrote in time, bad case it would've had to go to my father or worse case it would've gone to your uncle for clearance,” he replied. 

The thought of having to deal with either one of them made Shanelle shudder.

“Exactly. So next time, if there is one, you are to let me know the minute you write the check. Do you understand?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied quietly.

“Listen, I'm not trying to scare you or reprimand you. I just know that my father and your uncle would've instantly rejected the check.”

Shanelle nodded.

“Again, thank you.”

“Of course. It is a curious thing though. What's so important that you had to write a check that big?” he asks.

“I can't tell you,” she replied.

“Must be serious.”

“The check didn't say?” she asked.

“No. It just shows me the check number, the amount written, and the routing numbers of the Treasury and the bank requesting that the hold be lifted.” 

Shanelle internally sighed in relief.

“In other news, you look beautiful.”

“I look homeless.” 

Marquise groaned. 

“Just take the damn compliment, Princess.”

She broke out in a small smile.

“There's that pretty smile. Much better. That's what I like to see.”

“I've never seen you be all business-like. It's kinda hot.”

“Of course, you like it. You like it when someone else takes control. That way you can be as reckless as you want to be.”

Shanelle tried and failed to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“How was your day?” he asked.

“Long and arduous. How was yours?” she replied.

“Boring. Budgets, Cordonian tax laws and guidelines, and more budgets.” 

“Oh, you poor thing. Are you at your Duchy?” she asked.

“No. I'm in my office at the palace,” he replied.

She grimaced.

“You sound thrilled.”

“Oh yeah. Positively enthralled.”

Shanelle snorted.

“Are you off the clock?” she asked.

“I've been off the clock for three hours now. I just had a few loose ends to tie up,” he replied.

“I didn't mean to keep you up so late.”

He waved her off. 

“You weren't.”

“So you say.”

He smirked at her.

“I'm actually on my way to bed now that business is done. It's a shame you won't be there when I get there.”

Shanelle rolled her eyes.

“Oh my God! You're not even subtle.”

“I don't have the time or luxury to be.”

Shanelle shook her head.

“I know I'm going to regret this but hypothetically speaking, what would you do if I was there?” she asked.

Marquise cocked his head to the side with a smirk.

“Curious are you?” he replies.

“Morbidly.”

Marquise put a finger to his lips with a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Let's see. Well for starters you wouldn't be wearing any clothes.”

“You pig!” she hissed.

“I'll be Wilbur if you be Charlotte.”

“Ugh! You are so fucking irritating.”

The smirk on his face made her thankful she was sitting down.

“Okay fine. So you wouldn't be completely naked. Is that better?” he asked.

“Much. Now continue. Correctly.” she replied.

“To be honest, you'd either already be asleep, laying across the bed flipping channels like you are now, or you'd be out on the balcony with a glass of wine watching the stars.”

“Not bad. And nowhere near as disrespectful as I thought you'd be. Also, I didn't know your room had a balcony.”

“Every room in my wing has a balcony.”

“You have an entire wing?!” she asked.

“Mmmhmm. 12 bedrooms all to myself. At least for now,” he replied.

“And here I am thinking that I'm a spoiled brat.”

“You are a spoiled brat Princess.” he quipped. 

Shanelle shook her head. 

“So let's say I was out on your balcony, what would you be doing?” she asks. 

“Your curiosity must be killing you,” he replied.

“Humor me.”

“Very well. As you may know, I am a servant of the people. But none more than you, my future wife. I would always want you to be comfortable. No matter what. And nothing is more comfortable than a couples’ bubble bath.”

“Oh really?” she asks. 

“Mmmhmm. It would help me forget my day and would give me a reason to put my hands all over you. If you know what I mean.”

Shanelle couldn't help but blush. And he noticed. 

“It's okay to say you like the idea, Princess.”

“Okay fine. So I like the idea. I love bubble baths and as much as I hate to admit it, you are good with your hands.”

“There you go. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?” he asks.

“Get off my phone!” she replied with a smirk.

He smirked.

“Goodnight Shanelle. I'll talk to you soon.”

“Goodnight Marquise.”

When she hung up the phone she couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach. She turned off the TV and went to bed. When her head hit the pillow, she dozed off dreaming she was falling asleep in the Prince’s arms. 

As the months went on, Shanelle watched her best friend flourish and become herself again in rehab then eventually move back home to New York while she stayed in D.C. Shanelle also found herself more and more enamored with the Prince. He would text and call her every day. He would have a dozen roses sent to her office every Friday. He was starting to wear her down. Not that she minded. 

And it showed in one of their nightly FaceTime calls.

“So how did your parents meet?” he asks.

“My mom got a summer internship at the United Nations and would ride the elevator with my dad every day. She worked on the floor below him. And one day he finally mustered up the courage to ask Shantel Fletcher out on a date.” she replies.

“Your father has courage?” he asked.

Shanelle snickered.

“Yes, every here and again he does,” she replies.

“How long did this go on?” he asks.

“Maybe 3 weeks? They would go out for lunch every day until her internship ended and she had to go back to D.C.” she replied.

“And he chased her?” he asks.

“Yup. He transferred his assignment to the Consulate,” she replied.

“Talk about dedication.”

“He was in love. When mom found out she called him and told him to go home but he stayed. And they started dating again and then got married.” 

“He got married and didn't tell his parents?” he asked.

“Yup. They got married at the D.C. magistrate with her parents as witnesses,” she replies.

“When was this?” he asked.

“June 1st, 1986,” she replied. 

“That's a long time to be married to your dad.”

“She loves him. Someone has to.”

“Did you ever meet his parents?” he asks.

“Yes. The first time I ever went to Cordonia was because of them. It's how I was granted my title.” she replies.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yup. I actually met them by accident,” she replies.

“How'd that happen?” he asks.

“My parents had barely been married a year and a half when my mom got pregnant. She was excited while my dad was apprehensive,” she replies.

“Why?” he asked. 

“Because he was sent to America to work for Cordonia, not get married and have a kid,” she replied.

Marquise nodded.

“I met them after the betrothal agreement was signed.”

“How old were you?” he asked.

“I was 10 months old. As I said before, I met them by accident,” she replies.

“How?” he asks.

“My dad had gone to the store for milk and eggs and more baby food. While my mom stayed and worked on her thesis paper,” she replies.

“Where were you?” 

“I was in my room sleeping. It was naptime for me.”

“Where did you all live? Embassy Row?” 

“Nope. We lived here at the apartment where I am now at the Consulate.”

“So what happened?”

“As I said, my dad was gone and it was just me and my mom. It was a pretty typical Saturday. Until there was a knock at the front door. My mom went to open the door and when she did there stood my grandparents.”

“Awkward…” 

“Very. According to my mom, they stared at her and she stared back at them until my grandfather asked her who she was. That's when it clicked that mommy was staring at her in-laws.”

“Yikes!”

“Oh, it gets better. So when my mom realized who they were, she said ‘you must be Damien’s parents’.”

“Wait! She addressed the former Iron King of South Cordonia like a common parent?” Marquise asked with a cackle.

“Yup. And that's when my grandfather said,  ‘young lady my name is King Dominic Miller. And this is my wife Queen Angelique. And we're here to see our son Prince Damien. Thank you’, according to her.”

“Well did she let them in or make them stand there?”

“I'm getting to that! Of course, she let them in. She had to move some of her papers and books out of the way first before they could sit down. And about 10 minutes after my grandparents arrived, my dad showed up carrying grocery bags. Much to his mother’s horror.”

“Oh. My. God!”

“You see, the former King and Queen didn't inform their youngest son they were coming. Based on a suggestion made by their eldest son.”

“Your uncle didn't tell them about you and your mom?” he asks.

“Nope. He thought it best they find out about us on their own,” she replies.

“So he set your father up?” he asked.

“Yup. They wanted to surprise him and boy did he get a surprise. And so did they,” she replies.

“Wow!”

“Just wait. I'm just getting to the good part. When my dad walked in, my mom looked at him and was like ‘when were you gonna tell me your parents were coming?’ to which my poor dumb daddy goes ‘I couldn't tell you because I had no idea they were coming.’”

Marquise cackled. 

“So after my dad set the groceries down, my grandfather asked him who this common woman was, meaning my mom, and why was she there. And just as my mom got ready to respond, guess who woke up from their nap and was very fussy.”

“Uh oh!”

“Yeah. So my mom disappeared into my room and when she reemerged, she had me on her hip. My grandparents were stunned.”

Marquise stared at her.

“That's when my dad took me from my mom and turned to his parents and said ‘Father, mother, this is Shantel. My wife of two years. And this beautiful little girl is Shanelle. Our daughter. Your granddaughter.’ and as I said, his parents were stunned.” 

“You know your grandfather had a reputation for being everything but quiet right?” he asks.

“That's what I've heard about him,” she replied.

“So what else happened?”

“After several minutes of my dad’s parents being in shock, his mother finally spoke up and asked if she could hold me. And he placed me in her arms. Which was a miracle, because when I was a baby, I didn't like being held by anyone except my parents and my grandma Venita. Apparently, my grandmother had this diamond brooch on her jacket lapel that I kept reaching for, and she took it off and gave it to me to hold. And that was the first time I had ever smiled at her.” 

“Wow.”

“Apparently, I looked over at my grandfather and crawled into his lap and was giggling and waving my grandmother's brooch around. And according to my dad, that was the moment I melted my grandfather's heart.”

“Wow!”

Shanelle shrugged.

“I am their oldest grandchild after all. Anyways, after watching me play in my grandfather's arms, my grandmother asked my dad why he didn't tell them about me and my mom sooner.”

“What did he say?” 

“He was honest. He said he just knew that if he showed up with my mom and me, they would reject his new family and disown him. And he couldn't take the risk of losing his family. Besides, he didn't want me to grow up in the palace. He wanted me to have as normal of a life as possible.” 

Marquise nodded.

“So your dad does have a backbone?”

Shanelle snickered.

“I mean it's flimsy but yes, he has one.”

“What did your grandfather say to all that?” he asks.

“He was furious with my dad. According to my mom, he said he still should have been told that he had a granddaughter. And he was hurt and disappointed that my dad would think that they'd disown him. Because at that time, I was the oldest living child in the family, that meant that I would be the new heir to the throne.” 

“You?” he asked.

“Yup. Me. Because you have to remember, Edward was not married and had no children. Which meant that if he died after taking the throne, South Cordonia would be without a Monarch. But because my dad had me…” she trailed off.

Marquise nodded.

“South Cordonia would have their Monarch.”

“Bingo! But that's not why he didn't tell them.”

“Why didn't he say anything?” he asked.

“He was afraid that something called a Coventus Nobilis would be called?”

Marquise whistled low.

“Yikes! No wonder he was afraid.”

“But why? What is a Coventus Nobilis?” she asks.

Marquise sighed.

“It's an old and antiquated law that dates back to when the 7 Great Houses Of Cordonia were the ruling body of all Cordonia,” he replied.

“What does that mean?” 

“A Coventus Nobilis is a vote of no confidence.”

“No confidence in what?”

“If the safety and upbringing of a Royal heir is ever called into question by a Head Of House, a Coventus Nobilis can be convened to address the matter. And a vote of no confidence must be unanimously approved.”

“You're not making any sense.”

“Had a vote of no confidence been reached, your parents would've been stripped of custody of you.”

“WHAT?!”

“As I said, it's an old and antiquated law. It hasn't been called upon since at least the 1600s.”

“Can it be changed?” she asked.

“Nope. All Monarchs are forbidden from ever touching the law. That's what your father was really afraid of. And that's probably why he agreed to the betrothal agreement. It protected you in case your grandfather had the law called upon as King and tried to have you taken away from your parents.” he replied. 

“He wouldn't have done that.”

“Shanelle, your grandfather was notoriously known as the Iron King. I'll let you figure out the rest.”

Shanelle exhaled slowly.

“Well, that explains why my grandfather extended his retirement by at least a year.”

“I remember that. Kinda.”

“Yeah, he extended it so I could have my coronation when I was 18 months old. That was the first time I had ever traveled to Cordonia. And it was on Easter Sunday so I had on my Easter Sunday dress with bows, barrettes, and those white shoes with frilly white socks. And because I was granted a title, my mom was too.”

“I'm sure. Your grandfather had to grant her a title. She was the Mother Of The Heir at the time.”

“But all I cared about that day was eating my first ever sugarcake. It was my grandmother's favorite too. That's why I love it so much. It came from her favorite bakery in Gianko.”

“I know that bakery. They make amazing Paninis.”

“Of course, you know it. You live there.”

Marquise smirked.

“I don’t remember much about it but, one of the last things my grandparents did with me before they died was they commissioned two portraits. An official Royal portrait of me with my parents and a portrait of me with the two of them.”

“Really?” he asks.

“Yup. Daddy is actually in Cordonia now. He always goes back for a month to lay flowers at his parent's graves. That and to bring me back a box of sugarcakes. Anyway, according to my dad, he hasn't seen those portraits in years. He thinks Edward may have gotten rid of them after their parents died.” she replies.

“Nah. He didn't. I can assure you of that.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because it's illegal to do so. Instead, he would've had to turn them over to the Cordonian Hall Of Archives.”

“Oh.”

Marquise noticed she was biting her lower lip.

“Shanelle?” 

She let her bottom lip slip from in between her teeth.

“Huh?”

“You're biting your lip.”

“So?”

Marquise shook his head with a smirk.

“You only do that when you're scared to ask a question.”

She went quiet.

“Is there something that you want?” he asks.

She nodded her head yes.

“What is it, Princess? What do you want?” 

“Will you look in the Archives for the portraits?” she asked.

“I mean of course I can. But why would I do that when it serves me no purpose?” he replies.

“You're gonna make me explain why I want you to look aren't you?” she asked.

“Naturally,” he replies. 

Shanelle whined.

“My dad’s birthday is coming up and I want to be able to give him something special when he comes home. Also, I would love to have something to remember my grandparents by.”

“Very good. So you can be taught, I see.”

“Don't make me regret asking.”

“You won't. I'll put the call in to have them retrieved and sent to you before he leaves here. Shall I have them gift-wrapped as well?”

Shanelle snickered.

“I know you’re being funny but yes, I would like it if you could have them wrapped.”

“Consider it done.”

She smiled before hiding a yawn.

“Sorry about that.”

“Don't be. You should go get some sleep. I'll talk to you soon.”

“Goodnight Your Highness.”

“Goodnight my future wife,” he replied with a smirk.

Shanelle rolled her eyes before ending the call. 

Sure enough, the portraits arrived a few weeks later gift-wrapped and in pristine condition. They arrived two days before she moved back home to New York just in time for her father's birthday. When she moved back in with her parents she had the portraits stored in the attic. 

Being home felt good and weird at the same time. She had her job working for her dad's office at the United Nations. She had her friends who were happy to have her home for more girls' nights and gossip. She even had endless other suitors that were interested in her. Each suitor was wealthy, connected, and powerful. But none of them were as wealthy, connected, or powerful as the Prince. 

Also, most of them were boring, stuck up, narcissistic, stuffy, and stiff. They were perfect for someone that didn't want anything out of life. Not her. She wasn't trying to be some diplomat’s smiling trophy. And at the end of the day, that's what she would be with those other men. So she skipped them and stuck with the one man that wouldn't turn her into the black version of a Stepford Wife. The Prince. 

You have reached the end of part 1! Stay tuned for the next part!

[magnus-sm-writes]

June 10k Update, the Third

Alrighty, alrighty. This is my third 10k Update for June, and likely the last, though I’m really hoping I can pump out some more words to get to 40k just for the hell of it. Right now, I’m sitting pretty at 31,247, so a nice 10k is achievable. So I’ve got my fingers crossed and my hopes managed.

That being said, this time it took a decent ten days to reach this number when it took five days last time, and that’s because I just Wasn’t Feeling It this weekend. I did some pretty important errands (scheduling a testosterone appointment, buying wedding rings, et cetera) that took precedence over writing, and then was a little too tired to want to write when I got home for the day. You know how it is.

I mostly focused on my current WIP (Demon) Hunting for Love. This has included making a playlist, writing a lot, and doing a ton of daydreaming. Daydreaming is one of the activities I do best. This project is very fun to daydream about because it mostly ends up being goofy banter.

A great thing about (Demon) Hunting is that it’s entirely built off the chaotic dynamic between Otto and Quincy, so when I want to be inspired to write, I can just pop on really any sort of podcast or video series where two goofballs joke around. CreepCast, old Buzzfeed Unsolved, UNHhhh—that sort of thing. It works quite well! I always find myself pretty motivated to write with some silly background noise. Combine that with some clips of found footage horror movies (Grave Encounters, V/H/S, As Above So Below), and I’ve got a bonafide way to (hopefully) finish this novel.

This is the furthest I’ve gotten into writing a novel in a long time. With my fantasy works, I tend to skip around because I’m imagining a bunch of different time periods within my characters’ lives. When it comes to most of my rewrites, I’ve often got a sagging middle that I dread fixing. (Demon) Hunting is fun because I’ve got the plot mostly thought out and it’s just… flowing quite nicely from me. I’m a very big fan of that. Carrying through with this momentum is vital to finishing this novel. Because I will finish it, dammit. If not during Pride, then next month. It will be done!

So, content-wise, this is pretty (Demon) Hunting-heavy, just like the last couple of updates have been. I wrote a very small amount for Tsarevna of the Horned Crown. Not much, but enough that it felt somewhat substantial. And an equal amount for a blog post on work-life balance that I am probably not qualified to talk about. Nevertheless, I proceed.

Let’s go!

I’ve reached a part of (Demon) Hunting that I’ve been looking forward to: the getting-together bit. That’s not a spoiler because it’s a romance novel. They’re supposed to get together. How it happens it meant to be the surprise.

Already, I’ve written out three different first kisses, just to figure out when and where the damn thing will happen. Those have now been solidified, I think, so I should be good to go as long as I don’t make any major changes to the location.

I’ve also branched out into writing from Otto’s point of view! Now that Quincy isn’t the only POV, we get to see how Quincy’s “demonic charms” come across to other people. And it’s… not as bad as it could be, honestly. He just comes across as a charming, eccentric weirdo who has a bunch of quirks that Otto really wants to understand better. And along the way of trying to understand those quirks, Otto falls in love with him. Romantic!

It’s so lovely to write about people falling in love. Especially when one of them (Quincy) doesn’t want to be doing that at all. Quincy’s having a moral crisis for one of the first times in his life, and he’s not having a good time with it. It’s one thing to fuck around with a human. He’s a demon; that’s his job. It’s completely another thing to fall in love with said human target. And Quincy is super conflicted about this the whole time it’s happening. He’s a full-on mess for the first time in his life. All because of a human!

This is no way for a son of Satan to be acting. The drama is building each time Quincy visits Hell and has to come up with a new reason as to why he’s suddenly really into doing a long-con against this specific human.

A recipe for disaster if I’ve ever created one.

Since I’ve been focusing on a big climactic moment between Otto and Quincy, I’ll only share a little thing. Spoilers. ;)

They’re in the Hell Hole, for reference. The Hell Hole is a cave in Santa Cruz that is pretty widely regarded as one of the more difficult caves to spelunk. According to this YouTube video, the entrance is about one foot tall and twenty-six inches wide. My mother calls it “Satan’s Mail Slot” and forbade me from ever stepping foot in there. It’s that small of an entrance because, if you can’t fit through there, you sure as hell can’t get through most of the cave. There are a lot of tight squeezes and “birth canals” that make it pretty difficult to wiggle your way through, even as an average-sized person.

(I still really want to despite being forbidden! Or maybe because of it.)

For Otto, though, there is no struggle. He has no capacity for common sense or self-preservation. It’s about the thrill, the challenge, the ability to say he did it. There’s no point in dying without anything to be remembered for. He has to be significant. He wriggles between the cave walls and reminds himself to breathe evenly. This is easier than hunting ghosts. Way easier than hunting demons. There’s honestly very little for him to get freaked out by in here, other than how tight everything is.  Some sort of human survival instinct wriggles with him in the back of his mind. Danger! it shouts, and Otto pays it no mind. Part of him is always afraid, always thinks he’s in danger. He likes the way it feels, the way it makes him feel a little insane. His blood pressure is pretty high. Probably from doing such extreme activities on a regular basis. But so what? He has Quincy. No one can get hurt while Quincy is around.

Otto is just like me. He has no self-preservation instinct, which is one of my worst traits. I really want to learn how to swim so that I can get my diving certification and go cave diving, despite watching lots of videos about the many horrible ways you can die doing that. I’m dying young from either my allergies or my hubris.

So that’s it, for now! Lots going on with the Hell Hole that I really wish I could share, but can’t. The process is going pretty quickly, all things considered. I’m worried I’ll get a little sidetracked by wanting to rewrite Body. Fingers crossed I can finish this before I ADHD all over the place and it joins the unfinished WIP graveyard.