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acid-ixx · 11 months ago

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How do think readers relationship with each of the batfam would be had they not been neglected?

what if...? ft. domestic headcanons w/ your family

series masterlist &. request masterlist — long post ahead !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 6400+ words, no beta i'm genuinely insane. help i literally thought abt this yesterday !! i may or may not post a drabble about this one specific dream the reader had about where they had a normal relationship with the batfam but at the same time i want to implement it in the next chapter instead so have food for thoughts instead! slight spoilers below. also please do comment and reblog if u like this ! ^^ supporting my writing just makes me further motivated to write even more !

if you were never neglected by your own family, then i could say that the process of them turning yandere would be a tad bit better or worse. i'm saying, because of your past and because of an incident during your elementary years (that could've been avoided if your family actually never ignored you; so let's assume that that incident actually never happened but it opened a gateway for an even more protective family) the batfam could easily be either a dream or nightmare.

let's say it was bruce and dick who had picked you up from the police station. the moment he sees his own firstborn child, all his thoughts would circulate from just how broken and hopeless you absolutely looked, how the injuries litter throughout your entire body, the way your empty eyes stare at anything.

the child, his child, looked exactly like him all those years ago. he knows just how painful it is to bare losing all your loved ones.

he wouldn't hesitate to approach your form, immediately picking you up and letting your head lean on his shoulders as dick follows in tow, cooing about his significantly younger sibling.

that would be the first time dick would call you his baby bird, with the way you'd stare at him with mixed emotions in your eyes.

if him and dick were to hear about what happened to you inside your old apartment from the police (drugged and abused by the same men who took your mother away from you), then be guaranteed that batman and nightwing would be more brutal during their patrol afterwards (dick would even take more weeks off from bludhaven just to care for his younger sibling), even going as far as formulating a plan for your captors, having oracle stalk each and every person involved in your life.

if anyone thinks the vigilante would abide by his no-kill rule then they're wrong, because he'd turn a blind eye for once if dick were to brutally stab someone at any moment. why? because batman will not settle until his own child's attackers are thrown into putrid prison cells with no guarantee that they'll see the light of the day. the criminals should be grateful that red hood isn't even in the picture yet.

your father would be more perceptive of your emotions if he had never neglected you. he will always be the one giving you rides, he'll shield you away from the mass media trying to take photographs of you— and you're getting carried throughout the manor if your little body were to even express fatigue.

bruce wayne wouldn't admit it, but he absolutely cherishes you and your youth. he had adopted dick and grayson when they were above the age of ten, when they were already growing some sort of consciousness about the world they live in. but you? you're so small and you have so much to learn, your innocence is something bruce would protect. you'll be absolutely coddled by your father, your grandfather figure, alfred, and your oldest brother, dick. even future members of the family knows just how important you are maintaining their sanity.

that means you have the manor in the palm of your hands. you had a nightmare tonight? don't worry, your dad would always be one step ahead of you and would immediately be in your room. hell, if you were comfortable enough, you'd be sleeping in the same bedroom as your dad for the first few years you'll live inside the manor. he'll read you bedtime stories if you want and even have alfred prepare you warm milk or chocolate before you go to sleep. his entire schedule would also be centered around you, making sure that he would always arrive on time from business meetings to have dinner with you, and coming home early from patrols. if he leaves the manor before you're set off to sleep, then he'll be giving you a good night's kiss whilst alfred would be the one substituting for your nightly bedtime stories.

you may call him overbearing once you start to notice the signs the more you grow older, but your father will always track your sleep schedule - he even makes you wear a watch that records your heart rate - from the moment you drift into dreamland to the times you get nightmares— he makes sure the food you eat before dinner is light, booking appointments with nutritionists to make sure you're healthy. he even does specialized training with you, for self defence and to also maintain a healthy lifestyle.

and dick grayson? his visits to gotham would be more frequent. even if his relationship with bruce is strained, he'll always be in the manor faster than you could say 'i miss you' to your older brother on the phone. he loves coddling his baby bird, especially since you were adopted right after jason's death; dick doesn't want a repeat of the past, always making sure you get proper cuddles and affirmations.

spending time with dick means you get all the power to draw on his arms or face or make arts and crafts with him. he enjoys it when his baby bird is at their comfiest state so even if you were seated on the floor, there would always be cozy blankets that count as your chairs and snacks right beside you. you could ask him to get something for you and he's right at it.

he would be the older brother who normalizes physical affection in the household. dick would constantly kiss your cheeks, your foreheads, and any injuries you would obtain (a habit that even bruce adopted once your dad realized how it's an effective way to soften your cries and ease your heart). he's not afraid of picking you up even! always tossing you to the air under alfred or bruce's supervision whenever you feel down. dick would always hold your hand, too, as an assurance that your beloved older brother is always there for you.

you'd probably ignore all the red flags he carries around because of how early he shows off his signs of obsessiveness. so don't question it if him and bruce wouldn't allow you to go to sleepovers with your other friends or if sometimes, just sometimes dick feels the need to just have you in his arms for hours without end after particularly brutal patrols. you're the only person holding him up and if he doesn't breath in that reminder then he might just lose himself.

your brother would literally prioritize you over anything else. he can and will pick you up from school, he makes sure nobody in your class is there to bully you, he'll spoil you with sweet treats whenever bruce is too busy with business meetings. he wants to be seen as your favorite ever since he's discovered himself to be your idol, so he'll always show off his acrobatic skills for your eyes only.

whenever dick would say "i love you!" it always translates to, "if you want me to, then i will give you the world." which means he'll drop anything he's doing right now the moment you invite him over to design your diaries or sketchbooks.

your talents very early on would be heavily acknowledged by your family. that means any single drawing or craft you'd do, whether poorly done or not, would be stored in very protective places or shows off in every crevice of the manor. any father's day gift from you would be framed in bruce's personal office, a personal reminder to him that you are the light at the end of the brooding tunnel he puts himself in. so even if he can't always be there for you, he will always have you in his mind and in his heart.

your existence in the manor would prove to be a healthier way for bruce to cope, for him to get his mind off of the loss of his second child. whenever he looks at you, he'll always be filled with a determination to protect gotham from any further danger, to save the city - if not himself, then for your sake, for his baby to feel safe whenever they would walk on the streets, for his baby to feel protected whenever you two would eat in fancy restaurants or go shopping for your diary's supplies.

criminals would immediately get the message that messing with you means getting on the bad side of both batman and nightwing. you may be the child of bruce wayne, (name) wayne, but if they even think of kidnapping you for ransom then they should pray; pray because if batman's baby even gets a single nick, a single droplet of blood on their body then they're gone. there's no such thing as holding back if it comes to you.

now, your older sister figure, barbara gordon, despite her constantly being busy because of her role as the oracle, would find ways to at least entertain you whenever you would visit her in the batcave. if you feel like your father's overprotective nature and your older brother's coddling is too much, then she will be offer you solace by her side. she may not always be physically there but you two are as close as you are to the other members of your family because you're a creative one. it's not often barbara gets to spend time with someone like you who enjoys having her as a muse for your art pieces. she allows you to also style her hair, and if you like to design clothing, then she'd be your model for as much as you want.

barbara is also your go-to for when dick and bruce are both unavailable. she lets you watch her hack through multiple security systems, explaining concepts that you don't understand. and, because she's the most emotionally stable out of all of them, you'd prefer gossiping to her about your school's drama compared to dick, as she actually gives you helpful advice!

well, little do you know that she had already hacked your school's camera footage and wired multiple recorders on your bag but you don't have to know that! after all, barbara wants to keep the only sane person in the household safe and happy. she's not openly obsessive towards you, but whatever secrets you have that don't compromise your safety are secrets she promises she will bring to the grave. that means if you ever have a crush on a someone then she will hide it from the others.

... that is until you actually end up trying to get into a relationship too early for even her eyes then she won't hesitate sending out the signals to bruce and the others. she can't afford exposing her younger sibling to heartbreaks and emotional attachment towards strangers! so do forgive her if there are times where you feel like there's someone constantly watching your back, because she is that someone; with all the intentions in the world that you wouldn't have to go through what she did with the joker or any other villains who could whisk you away from their arms.

it's obvious that, of course the oracle will use all the power in her hands to guarantee all eyes are on you, so that there would never be an opening for any danger towards you. even if you do know that she's the one in-control of the strings, there's not much you could do but accept it.

then there's tim drake. your brother who had stalked batman and nightwing just to prove a point. his parents are alive and he's fine being on his own, but fuck it if he prefers being in the wayne manor! once you're introduced to tim, he's immediately researching about the first biological child of bruce wayne. and thank god bruce requires the two of you to become familiar with each other because you're just so interesting to him, you and your curious eyes, your small habits— the way you shift in your position as your father's hands are clasped on your shoulder protectively.

tim can already feel himself blast off in excitement just solving the mysteries about you! yet he doesn't know it in himself that the longer you spend time with him, the more the urge to just stitch himself into your very life grows stronger.

if you were never neglected by your own family then you would instead be analyzed constantly. tim is just another set of eyes constantly watching you, but unlike the others, he picks off every single detail about you to a T.

you, your interests, your hobbies, your favorites, your friends, you name it; he will have an entire collection of case files on everything, picking apart your very mind to the seams. it's like he's eating up the information about you, spending sleepless nights researching about a movie you two would watch soon, because the look of amazement in your eyes feeds the growing love he has for his sibling.

at first he'd never understand why bruce and dick seems so smitten towards you other than the case regarding your mother. but he slowly starts to understand why— because just like him, you're perceptive of his well-being. if dick isn't around then you're always the one hanging around his room, visiting him with snacks in your arms or an invitation to watch a cartoon show.

he likes doing your assignments for you, especially your projects even if he neglects his own duties for his own school. and despite how emotionally constipated or unaware he seems, he's obsessed with your personal life. that means you don't even have to rant to him about school drama or your friends or crush because he can and will know it. what he doesn't like, though, is when your attention is towards anything but him. he may not be the most physically comfortable to cuddle but he will offer you his jackets which he would end up not washing right after you use them, instead he wears them, feeling closer to you than ever.

it even lulls him to sleep for the times you're unable to sleep over at his room.

tim may not know how to comfort you like dick whenever you wake up from nightmares but he does know ways to avoid them; he knows a lot of strategic methods to get you drowsy after a moment's panic.

bonus points if you cuddle him afterwards! he loves the warmth that you emanate, loves it when your body leans against him and makes him feel so important. tim loves it when you snuggle him unknowingly, tightening your already bruising grip on him, he loves reciprocating it too, feeling a special bond with his sibling that not even his parents could offer.

though he doesn't openly tell you that he loves you, he does so in his own ways! you don't want to see an entire photography room dedicated to his younger sibling— most pictures contributed by tim. you don't want to see the terabytes of files that are all about you and your interests, millions of video imagery of just you sketching or writing diary entries, sometimes eating or rambling senselessly. you don't know it but tim loves playing the videos of you in the background, especially the ones where you're humming a tune or singing a lullaby; those are his favorites.

it's not his fault that you're just so interesting to him, that your presence is so comforting, that you're the only person closest to him that has the ability to make him melt into you, unknowingly succumbing to your spoiled wishes.

jason todd comes into the picture later, and he is a very enraged man. he's mad at his replacement, at bruce, at you, at the entire universe.

at first he just doesn't understand anything. he doesn't understand why bruce finds it so easy to not only replace his status as robin but to also bring in another child, who's valued and loved more despite not taking the mantle of robin. he's mad at just how quick he was replaced, how it seems like bruce never avenged him, and yet if he threatens your safety then the old man suddenly turns violent towards him?!

jason wouldn't bring you into the fray, because you're unaware of the entire situation, but fuck, he doesn't understand why you are just so cherished when he'd watch the news and sees your picture plastered all over the reporters' walls, talking about the child who bruce never allowed to separate from his side. they talk about how you're the sheltered one, the hearthrob of all media with just how clingy the billionaire is towards his supposed younger sibling.

he's not jealous, he gets why bruce is protective and smothers himself all over you; but he hates feeling replaced, feeling discarded and forgotten by the very man who'll avenge your death if that ever happened.

hence why he has to see it for himself, has to see you for himself. it's a coincidence, a miracle actually that he just seems to easily find you by the kitchen of the manor— a manor whose aura is now different from last time, it seems like it now reeks of life, of personality. clearly you were the main cause of all of this.

you could simply be reading a book and sipping your nightly tea, but jason would soon realize just how... vulnerable you are at the moment. you find him hiding in the shadows and all you offer is a wide stare with no sense of self defense whatsoever. it's the same vulnerability that he sees off the cruelest streets of gotham. you're exactly like the innocent kids who get brutally murdered without justice, just like the children who have never once gained penance for the torture they had to experience just living off of personality.

jason isn't a dumbass, living near the crime alley means hearing the gossips of every citizen. your name, or preferably your last name is famed even in the underground. your mother is infamous for catching the attention of most crime lords by running off with their cash, successful staying hidden to care for her child, just right until she met her untimely demise. you lost her early just like how he lost his mother early as she had fallen victim to drug overdose.

he'll discover why gotham's vigilante seems to be so protective over you. the way you carry yourself, the warmth you give off as you offer him your leftover dinner despite not

you told him that your dad taught you to never talk to strangers— but clearly he's not because "how else would you be able to trespass the millions of security alarms in the manor? you must've lived here before." you'll state as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, sipping your drink before you offer him a seat next to yours, unafraid of the dangers that lie ahead of you—

"you must've really been pampered by the old man, huh?" is all his reply, the voice changer of his makes him sound naturally intimidating, like he's ready to attack but no, that's not his intentions with you. he'll take a seat beside you, try to make out what book you're reading and that's when he knows that you truly have no idea that it's your dead brother who's talking to you. you have no idea of his resurrection whatsoever as you start to mumble off about the novel— he finds it quite amusing that, finally, he's not the only guy who enjoys literature in the family, even going as far as to recommend his own fair share of favorite novels to you.

once he leaves out of the window after a seemingly long session of talking, definitely aware that yes, bruce does have a microchip inserted under your skin, and the watch you're wearing has a voice recorder that sends recordings straight to the batcave's system; jason takes note to visit you more often, finding the normalcy you offer very welcoming.

he likes it, likes your mellow behavior. he'll even admit that you're the only proof that bruce can, in fact, raise a child right, even if that means tracking their entire life. but that's the old man's love language, and jason knows it in himself that he's already planning for a way to take you to ride his motorcycle at night without bruce's knowledge; just so his angel knows the feeling of gotham's breeze flowing through their hair since bruce seems to love dictating your every move.

once he does form a solid plan to take you away, even just temporarily, you don't have to worry about the criminals who litter the streets because jason made sure that nobody's gonna mess with him and his angel's bonding time together.

the youngest, damian wayne, and the second biological child of bruce is a special case. his upbringing as an assassin makes him susceptible to his fits of tantrums. the first time he steps foot into the manor is the same time he will threaten anyone around him; and that includes you, the bastard child. quite frankly, your first greeting with him would be the same as the one in the original storyline, you'll greet him with a tray of sweets in your hand and a small smile and he'll reply with a sword on your neck. but the difference would be the undeniable fact that dick and bruce immediately stopped him from even nicking your delicate skin.

dick's swearing was shut down by alfred's scolding and you, again! pulling on your oldest brother's sleeve with an assurance that you're okay.

that's the very first time he sees his father truly reprimand him with nothing but rage in his eyes. despite damian's annoying antics towards his father the entire day, it seems like you were the snapping point.

his father, bruce wayne, made it very clear that he can mess with anyone and everyone in the family but you. that you have nothing to

his only reply would be a sneer as he demands they take him to his room immediately, unable to shut you down when you offer to help bring his luggage despite bruce's firm unwillingness and dick's hesitant request that his baby bird should instead spend time in his room instead.

but it was always your word above everybody else's and damian hates that, hates that everyone just seems to succumb to your request as long as it doesn't compromise your safety. the bitterness that keeps resurfacing in his heart whenever he sees you wearing tim or dick's jacket, or if he caught sight of bruce giving you affection was a feeling he tried to convince himself wasn't jealousy.

not jealousy towards you, no, but towards them. your behavior towards him was nothing but kind, a kindness that was taught to him as weakness. he thinks you're weak and undeserving of being spoiled and yet he hates it whenever he sees his blood sibling (whom he called a bastard child so many times) become too close with anyone but him.

he hates it, he hates you and his conflicting feelings. he hates it when he pushes you away, hates it when he sees you pout after another failed attempt at trying to have your youngest sibling talk to you.

and as the days or even weeks pass by, with all your effort to try to bond with him, with the days where he can feel dick's energy drain because you insisted on spending time with damian instead of dick again, with tim's intolerable treatment towards the him because you chose to bother damian instead of that loser— are the days he feels himself actually becoming closer to you because he relishes in your insufferable behavior towards them, because you just seem so sweet to him.

damian feels that it's right that you make him the exception.

so it's inevitable that damian will eventually discover both your talents towards art and the love for nature. it's a mistake, really, when one day as he stalks through the hallways he'd find you in your own atelier, painting a portrait of a robin with a color scheme that matches his vigilante suit. the beams of sunlight seems to hit you just right because you looked so at peace with your surroundings, humming a tune, unaware of your youngest brother who has found himself at your most natural state.

he'll budge in without moment's hesitation afterwards, steering clear behind you as he analyzes your art. it would only be after a few minutes would he announce his presence in the room, expecting you to scream at him to buzz off but all you did was jump in your seat, looking back to eye the intruder only to find out it was damian all along, offering him a smile and a seat beside you.

after he does so, you'll both end up spending the entire day bombarding each other with art tips and animal facts. he'll give you comments about the bird's proportions and you give him guidelines on how to properly mix your colors without it looking muddled. it's like you two are meant to be siblings because damian swears he ended up clinging to your side after your painting session, refusing to even seat beside anyone during dinner time if it isn't you because he's not done rambling about the rainbow eucalyptus you had told him you'd seen in a nature documentary once— so it's rightfully his place to be beside you and not drake's or grayson's or even his father.

eventually you two would be as close as peas in a pod because you're seemingly the only one who knows how to calm him down, the only one with the right to raise your voice at him and to ask him of favors because you're his blood sibling. and because you both share the same blood, that means you both should share clothes that complement each other, share snacks and treats, share matching bracelets and necklaces and any jewelry, you're the only one allowed to hang around his room and him in yours.

the others find it annoying that you let him be, but what choice do they have? unless they would like to hear an earful from damian then they should stay silent because you both aren't done painting each other's nails yet!

stephanie brown is shortly introduced to you after her incessant insistence on meeting you right after stepping foot into the manor. she knows of your internet fame for being the beloved bruce wayne's 'favorite' child and she's not afraid to admit that you are indeed adorable in person! unlike your first meeting with damian, steph would immediately coddle you at first glance, insisting you call her by 'steph' and that

due to the short period of time as her robin and her being constantly reprimanded for her antics, you'd take it in yourself to become closer with her, and she accepts your offer without any complaints. she's also one of your muses for your art and it's a good thing she has a sense of style unlike your brothers who are either too flashy (you had to stifle a laughter looking at the discowing costume) or too dull. damian's fashion sense is good but he's often out during the time period you spend with steph, and even if she often doesn't stay still, you at least hsve someone to talk your ears off whilst you try to sketch the poses she chose.

her obsession towards you stems from your willingness to "match her freak" or whatever internet lingo she finds that day, but she's a fun company to be around! she's always there for you when you need to rant about anything regarding your feelings, especially since you're at the age where you're a teenager and your emotions towards your family would be all over the place and she'd relate the most towards that.

so other than barbara, you'll find yourself speaking up about any concerns you have to steph, and she turns your 'favoritism' towards her her entire personality.

but if you think of even spilling your secrets about a highschool crush to steph or news that someone had asked you out for prom them then spoiler alert! don't. like her mentor, steph will drop signs and clues and your brothers would promptly deal with that. awe, don't worry about feeling alone though or if you weren't permitted to go to your highschool prom because steph and babs will be the ones to convince bruce to throw you your own very elegant gala where you would dance with only your siblings!

see, isn't she so strategic that way? psht, you don't need a boy or a girl acting as your temporary reprieve when your entire family is there for you! steph is here for you and you did technically promise to go out with her today to go shopping so...

it's not that she isn't on your side, no! but you're very much the entire family's baby and she doesn't want you losing your attention on her, definitely not! her goofy personality towards you really does cover her intense urge to be by your side really well. unlike damian, it's not obvious that she's trying so hard to monopolize your time for herself but you're just so fun to be around and she's at her best behavior when it comes to you.

so what's wrong if she ditches her other friends to bond with her beloved sibling? it's not like they'd understand what it's like having someone who actually looks at her for her rather than just the surface level.

don't question why most of the gifts she had given you (which ranges from attires like jackets and shles, to matching bracelets, even little fidget toys) all don a shade of purple and blue! and don't also question why her gallery is filled with cute selfies of you and why your phone's lock screen wallpaper is now suddenly matching with hers.

after all, steph likes making it known that you are her favorite!

cassandra cain, when she first saw you, is, of course, silent. but she makes her presence known quickly after she has enough proof that you've no fight in your body. she may not be the most expressive in words but she is through actions.

you were actually the one who had first approached her after bruce initially introduced you two to each other, offering her a handshake and a greeting in sign language. albeit it being crusty, and her insisting that it's alright if you do the talking, it seems like you were more than willing to learn sign language just for the sake of your new sister and she likes it.

she really, really likes it, appreciates how there were no signs of malice in your movements and just how comfortable you seemed with someone who could potentially end your life with just a snap of her fingers. and yet you treat her like she's not a weapon of murder but rather another sibling who is welcomed into your own world.

you ask her if she wants to hang out with you and steph in your own personal sleepover inside your room and she accepts it because of just how comforting your presence is. it's been so long since she had last felt like she was treated as a human and you were proof that she's glad she never took the path to human carnage like her father intended her to because then she wouldn't meet someone who would soon be so precious to her.

cass may not talk a lot but she is a listener.

a listener to both your words and your body language. it's quicker for her to notice if you ever needed a hug or a catalyst for comfort. she knows your boundaries and when you need space the most. she knows it when you want to open up to her about how stuffy the manor is beginning to feel, how it feels as if they're becoming more sensitive about your social life, how you wish your friends aren't distancing themselves from you because of how intimidating your family is.

and you can say all that to her because cass, alongside duke and sometimes steph, would be the only ones keeping your deepest darkest desires to their grave. although she may not understand your reasonings on why you even felt like your family is coddling you too much (because they're not! they love you very much and she does too) in the first place, she's always the one offering you to hold her hands whenever you're going through a momentary panic attack or a shoulder to lean on whenever dick would scold you for something impulsive you've done.

unlike your neglected counterpart, cass would always be by your shadows, watching every one of your moves and to abide by bruce's order to make sure you wouldn't escape, shall you ever feel rebellious during your teenage years. you may be older than her but she's stronger than you, more experienced and can even combat your dad if she wants to.

yet she always seems to let her guard down when it comes to you because you just seem to have that alluring effect on everybody. can't you understand just how important you are to everybody? you're the most important to her, you're one of the first few people who had treated her like a human so she swears on her life to protect you from harm's way like you did her whenever she's often in a pit of despair.

cass isn't the most expressive, so she makes up for it by instead leaving signs that she really cares for you, or sometimes hiding little trinkets for you to find in your room. it's like her very own message that translates 'cass was here'.

whenever you sit beside her at the dinner table, she always slips in extra food by your plate without you looking or sometimes even filling your glass bottles with extra juice and you'll never know why until you realize that it's her way of telling you to eat more. sometimes, your clothes would go missing until you see your sisters wearing your own collection of jackets and hoodies then swapping them in your drawers for their own— you'd realize that cass got that idea from steph and you can't get mad at her or anybody else as it soon becomes tradition that you'll have an entire closet dedicating to the missing clothes you have that your siblings have replaced to their own attire.

cass really does love you and although she can't always say it out loud, you'll always have a constant reminder instead. as long as you're safe and sound then you don't have to witness the darker sides of her that she hides from you.

then finally, duke thomas. he may have been introduced to you the latest but you could say in terms of every trait, he'd be the brother you'd like to keep close for every situation. your first meeting with him is quite frankly the most normal one of them all, introducing yourself to duke through dinner. although he may be temporarily under bruce's guardianship over anything else, he's incredibly comforting to be around as he's quick to catch on your emotions but unlike the others, he doesn't push you to open up to him, but he won't leave your side at all either.

duke is the only metahuman you're probably allowed to be close with because your dad absolutely refuses you from even trying to talk with the superfamily. and duke heavily prides himself with that information, often secretly showing you his metahuman skills and answering whatever questions you have about them.

like jason, duke wouldn't fully delude himself into thinking you're innocent, that you need to be babied to the point they feel the urge to track even the food you eat— so he's your reliable source for any video games you were forbidden to play or any movies dick would consider too gruesome for you. he's chill, he even sneaks you unhealthy chips once in a while which makes him automatically one of the top in your tier list.

but don't think he's entirely on your side, because whilst duke seems the most normal to you - the only sibling who wouldn't smother you in blankets the moment you accidentally cut yourself with a kitchen knife - he's also batshit crazy for his own sibling and he'll sacrifice a lot for you two. so if you even dare try to suggest an idea that duke knows would risk not only him, but especially you, then that idea automatically is relayed to your dad and you wouldn't really want your father's gentle scolding anymore.

you can try to find a loophole to go out with him though! if you want to eat batburgers outside then you can do so when he's at his patrol, seeing as how he's the only batkid who does daytime patrol and that's way safer than eating at night, no?

so do expect spending more time with him the most outside, other than with dick and damian, but you'll be forced to sit in the sidelines where nobody can lay their hands on you whilst duke would be busy fighting crime and afterwards treating you to ice cream like he didn't just 'accidentally' and brutally body slammed a criminal into the wall for giving you heart eyes.

'most normal member of the family, my ass' would be the first thing that pops into your mind, but hey! at least you didn't have to be always locked up into the stuffy manor, right...?

at least you get to spend time with all of your siblings and a very loving and attentive father..!

little did you know that the only reason they allowed you out is to give you this false sense of independence, slowly but surely planning for the ultimate day where they truly would lock you up away from the world.

but they just can't help it, you know? the media's greedy hands are starting to take more than they could; so many eyes are on you and danger awaits at every corner in gotham— they can't afford having their beloved being pried away from their arms.

so is it truly a blessing or a curse in disguise? you don't know anymore.

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henry7931 · 30 days ago

Text

Don’t F*ck With The Boss

Luca:

Being the boss really has its perks, you know. And now it looks like I’m going to be the boss for a very long time— especially after taking care all of the rats in my circle.

So I guess you’re wonderin’ how a young fella like me is running such a big underground organization. Well… I haven’t always been this young or even looked like this.

Actually a few weeks ago, I was a 58 year old Italian guy. Well respected in my community but some of the guys working for me didn’t like the way I ran things.

So what did those fella do? They ran to the cops and gave them enough to get me arrested.

You know, these guys know a bunch of things but not everything. Especially my secret weapon, Magic.

I know it sounds goofy but I’ve obtained a bunch of ancient magical artifacts. And one of those pieces gives me the power to do a little switcheroo with any one of my choosing.

And when I found out that one of my right hand guys, Jack, was leading my take down for my spot…

Well that’s how I got this sweet new body of mine.

You see Jack has 3 sons and I had my eyes set on his oldest one.

Now, I’m not completely evil here. I know Jack’s son didn’t do anything to cause this.

So I put Jack in my body which is now behind bars. And his son is in a body that I know will satisfy him.

I know this because I talked to Jack’s son and gave him his options. And luckily he selected the right one.

He takes a handsome body around his age that is very wealthy, doesn’t ask any questions…while his dad gets sent to prison in mine.

And it’s funny because I could have taken any body I wanted but really— I just wanted Jack to know that I’m now his possessing his son’s body.

And boyyyy am I loving it!!!

I wake up in the morning feeling amazing! No back pain, no stiffness— well other than my new dick.

And you wanna know what’s crazy? I’m no longer attracted to women. Just men. I guess Jack’s son was gay. And what’s even crazier is that I prefer it.

I recently discovered my new found love for male feet. I like to think I have a very sexy new pair of them.

My new feet are hairy and my toes look perfect. The soles of them are soft to the touch and the smell after a long day really turns me on.

And you know what else turns me on? Having guys worship them.

The rest of those traitors are all facing there punishment. I swapped them into a bunch of twinkish looking guys and they all have certain new jobs now.

For instance, take Julius here— prior to his little stunt, he was 6 foot, 270 pounds of muscle, and could beat up just about anyone. A real Goon.

Now his job is to goon over my perfect feet! And I know he likes it, I watch him sniff and kiss them. And I always notice the tent growing in his pants.

I just know for a guy like that, it has to be humiliating. I set specific rules for him and the others— they serve me, cook for me, clean for me, do my laundry. None of them can’ cum without my permission.

And if one of them steps out of line— I pull out another magical item I have with me. A very special knife that can detach anyone’s body parts without hurting them.

One of them has already tried it with me. Running his mouth… well that one lost his ‘body’ privilege for a couple of weeks.

He should have been smart and kept his mouth shut. Because I’m starting to prefer him this way.

I discovered without his dumb cute head attached his body will do whatever I say. So I’ll bring his body to bed with me at night and have my fun.

And I don’t have to hear anything from it. It’s even a nice cuddle buddy at night.

I guess it really does pay to be the boss and now that I have all of this power, youth, and soon to be wealth. I’m thinking about making this operation bigger.

Potentially swapping all of my team with ‘non suspicious’ good looking guys. If I do that then no one would ever suspect a thing!

Hmmmm… not a terrible idea. I’ll have to think that one over.

In the meantime, I’m going to take this sexy headless body, all of my boys, and have an amazing orgy.

And hell— I might even let all of them cum. But not until I blow my load 😆

#male tf #body swap #male body swap #body theft #male nbm #magic

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ablobwhowrites · 10 days ago

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dragon y/n cookie yap session

I love to imagine that y/n's true form is kinda similar to Longan Dragon Cookie's form. I imagine them to be similar ages because of them being two dragons who have been here before cookies.

Dragon y/n also has a lot of scars and stuff from cookies of the past believing they are a monster and must be killed or others from the battle against the beasts as y/n believes that cookies simply haven't seen as much as they have and never gets as much wisdom of the world because of that. Y/n is very forgiving to cookies even the ones who wounded them but the other dragons see the cookies as simply not deserving of y/n's kindness and longan dragon cookie sees this as weakness the cookies gave to y/n as no dragon should care about the weak and inferior and gets frustrated when y/n tries to argue about the cookies being good and worthy of being in this world.

Y/n doesn't deny that all cookies can never make mistakes yes they have hurt y/n before but they just believe it's just because of fear this happened. Yet something inside of them wishes to believe longan dragon cookie and the rest of the dragons but they never bring themselves to accept it even if they long for their lover who they had to leave because the cookies feared y/n and saw them as a monster who tried to take away a innocent cookie and sometimes they wish they could cut off their wings or just be a regular cookie to go back and see their lover again and have the kids and life they both wanted together but that day many never come.

I like to imagine that before the dark flour war when the four kingdom the ancients ruled were still thriving. I imagine just the civilians there had grew to like y/n as many saw them as a loyal protector and the small cookies though it was so cool to see a real dragon up in person and scholars or any kind of researchers just sketching y/n and asking so many questions about dragons that the ancients step in cause one researcher asked if they could take one of y/n's scales. I do imagine y/n helped the ancients in the dark flour war but was heavily injured after blocking a attack from dark enchantress cookie which left them weak for a long time and had to go into hibernation for a while as many cookies believe the dragon sacrificed their life for the cookies and this reached the dragons and they all believed that the cookies had killed y/n the oldest cookie seconds behind longan dragon cookie. I do imagine somehow the beast hear about this as well but that's for another time.

The ancients visited y/n after they found out that y/n was in a cave in deep hibernation as many cookies heard about this and put gifts and tributes to y/n as they slept as many weren't sure if they'll ever wake up again. (They do but hey they worried the cookies)

I imagine just y/n's cookie form covered in scars in old and new. The new ones are because y/n is sometimes a dumbass and runs into stuff because they are a bit bigger than the average cookie being a dragon older than cookie kind itself so yeah.

Also thought of this

Dragon y/n cookie: "oh Royal Margarine cookie! I heard that you ride dragons!"

Royal Margarine cookie: "oh..um yes I do, is there something wrong? Is that bad or-"

Dragon y/n cookie: "oh not at all, say you can ride me! I would love if you do. Hopefully I'm not to difficult to ride due to well, me being a bit bigger than the average dragon."

*dragon y/n thinking they just offered a fun ride in the skies with a new friend they made*

*Royal Margarine cookie thinking that's he rizzed up a hot ass dragon cookie*

Also y/n still has their heart out for their cookie lover. Hoping they find them again (they never will)

(Anyways that's it's for my yap session. If you guys like it please don't be shy and request any ideas for stories or y/n's you have! But for now please stay safe and drink water!)

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blood-smiles · 13 days ago

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hi smiles.. Care to elaborate on Alejandro? Like, remember that post where you gave a bunch of info on Yuuto? Like.. In that fashion?

IT WOULD BE MY PLEASURE 😈

YANDERE! LAWYER (ALEJANDRO) HCS AND INFO UNDER CUT!

🍷 His first design was very heavily inspired by Scaramouche from genshin impact and Saya

but I eventually changed it to resemble Gakupo or a male version of Yuri.

🍷 I listened to a lot of Gakupo Kamui and Lady Gaga (wink wink) songs while designing him so the influence is actually pretty strong!

🍷Bernadette by IAMX. I just.. Love it for Alejandro

🍷 Alejandro is about 6’1 ft or 185 cm, standing pretty much taller than me at least.

🍷He was my first official OC, or yandere for that fact. I don’t remember much about him but his personality hasn’t changed as much.

🍷Now to get into the nitty gritty bits about him.. He is the first born child in a family of 2 (including him).

🍷He has a little sister named Salomé, and he loves her very much and would probably turn the world to ashes if something happened to her. He was basically both her father and mother since childhood (Him still being a child too).

🍷 Throughout his whole childhood he was the caretaker of his little sister, this started when he was around nine years old. He cooked, cleaned and sometimes even helped sort out financial matters as they grew up. He did all in his power to protect his sister from having to do all that he did.

🍷 As the oldest sibling, he was meant to be the heir to the Ortega inheritance and law firm. In Spain, the business is like HUGE. High prestige lawyers and all, although there have been allegations of them fabricating evidence although no one can prove it! ^^

🍷 His mother and father were far too in love with each other to look after their children properly, meaning that Alejandro and his sibling were on nanny rotation for most of their life.

🍷Alejandro was put under major pressure and stress as a child, expected to have the best grades, best appearance and best behavior. His only two choices to be in life was to be a lawyer or a failure. All while taking care of another child.

🍷 He has bad attachment issues, like separation anxiety to the max.

🍷 This will sound majorly fucked up but his parents are related family, distant. But they are blood relatives, making Salomé and Alejandro children of inbreeding.

🍷 He was born in Spain, making his first language spanish, English coming up second runner, he knows just a little bit of German. Sometimes his accent slips on some words but it’s like barely noticeable when he speaks.

🍷 His voice sounds like Dr. Venemous but like slightly deeper. The things I would do for Alejandro bro.

🍷 He wears a red silk bow in his hair! His little sister once gifted him it when she was little, saying that it was the same color of his eyes and since then he hasn’t not had it on one day in his life.

🍷 This mf always smells good, like smells expensive and like mouth watering at the same dam time.

🍷 His parents would definitely LOATHE you. You know damn well they do not want you anywhere near Alejandro.

🍷 Ume was a childhood acquaintance of his, and his parents decided that she was a good match for him from a creepily young age.

🍷 Ume died, fell off from a railing in Alejandro’s manor. It was ruled as an ‘accidental’ death.

🍷 He is SO damn clingy. Like might as well be bleach stuck in your clothes because he is NOT going away. He’s not a jealous girlfriend type of envy but more like a Doberman pinscher sitting between his owner’s legs while frothing at the mouth.

🍷 Maybe had one piercing when he was in a rebellious phase, i would say it’s something hidden like a bellybutton or something under his clothes, is probably closed up now.

🍷Comb his hair!! He loves it when you play with his hair and treat him like your doll, it’s very amusing to him :)

🍷 Hands are very nice looking, the veins are like greenish and prominent, his joints are like slightly blushed and if you look closely enough you can find beauty marks.

🍷 He would be an AMAZING model, has long legs and a good height, face card NEVER declines. Like would be modeling for Gentle Monster and st Laurent.

🍷 emotional type of drunk, like I am not jesting when I say that he will start BAWLING if you gently kiss his cheek while dragging him home. Remembers EVERYTHING from his drunk haze.

🍷 If he was a fruit he would be a cherry!

🍷 As a mythical creature he would be either a Vampire or some kind of mermaid.

🍷 As a Pokémon trainer he would definitely have more sophisticated/fancy looking Pokémon, I’m talking about dark, flying types (especially Houndoom, Talonflame, garchomp)

🍷 He goes bananas when you are sick, it’s just the most petrifying thing that can happen to you in his eyes. He is very serious about your health and if he sees a single sign that you are feeling sickly he is rushing you to a doctors office.

🍷will kiss and cuddle you even if you have something contagious, bro does NOT care if he catches pneumonia, it’s worth it if he gets to touch your skin.

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cancel-me-daddy · 1 month ago

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The older sibling trope is shitty and lazy, and there is no excuse for it to be this prevalent in 2025, point blank period.

(SPOILERS AHEAD for One Piece. Don't read unless you're fully caught up or don't mind. One of them is a thing that hasn't happened yet, at least not where I'm at, it's just really obvious that it will. Also spoilers for OG Fullmetal Alchemist maybe.)

This has been coming for some time, it was really just a matter of when the next time this stereotype shows up and ruins/turns me off from something before I put up this rant.

The Elbaph arc of One Piece has just become my least favorite arc in the series, and has ruined Shanks for me.

As if it wasn't bad enough how obvious it is that Loki is gonna turn out to be the good guy (writing this on May 5th 2025, I am on chapter 1140. Loki being the youngest gave it away.) and it's gonna be like Bruno from Encanto or something, but now Shanks has an evil older twin out of nowhere and this cool character is ruined.

Constantly making the older sibling in media evil and making the younger sibling the underdog/odd one out is such a dull overdone trope.

I have had a huge problem with it for years because it completely alienates me and invalidates me and the fact that I'm the only one who even notices or cares about this just adds to it. Like, I am actually mad when I see this.

In media, the older sibling can either be evil or a prissy overachiever who follows the rules (or both) and that is it. This is not fair and when it's the only thing you're shown throughout art and media it has an effect on real life.

And yeah, there are definitely more important/pressing issues than this but I can still be mad about this while also caring about more important stuff.

This is very personal to me because growing up, I was a complete inverse of this stereotype. I am the oldest of my siblings, and when we were kids I was the one getting mistreated. I was an undiagnosed neurodivergent child and grew up with a neurotypical and perfect younger sister.

My issues with this trope falls on deaf ears CONSTANTLY and I'm sick of it so l'm sorry but I have to bring up old family stuff. We’re good now and as long as that’s over I have nothing against them. But okay; I'm the oldest. I'M the one who was bullied. I'M the one who was "weird." I was the black sheep. I'M the one who did poorly in school. I'M the one who got the "why can't you be more like your sister?" talk. IT IS NOT FAIR.

It's like writers don't think older siblings are going to be watching or reading anything. We were all kids at one point. We were the same age our younger siblings are now and it's not okay to teach us that we're some horrible monster or a lame NPC for being conceived first.

Of course there are going to be situations where this stereotype really does happen. People exist. There are mean older sisters and brothers. But the fact that I can conjure up this giant ass list (80 examples as now) while I can count the number of good older sibling characters on one hand is fucking appalling. At this point they are really just demonizing older siblings and ass kissing younger siblings because we fetishize the shit out of youth.

Movies and books are supposed to be my escape from real life. It's really harmful that even my escapes tell me l'm not valid and there's no room for me in stories because I'm supposed to be the big bad evil one or the "obey your parents" prissy wet blanket while the younger sibling is always the good, rebellious cool one.

And I get why; younger = less life experience = underdog = root for the underdog. That mixed in with everyone’s subconscious younger = better. I know the reason but like?? It’s not a good reason? It should be defied and challenged once in a while.

This trope is lazy. Like flat out. There are better ways to write an underdog than this. We all know deep down that younger means better. It doesn't work.

Being younger means you have less experience so of course an older sibling will be better than you at some stuff. It doesn't make for a good "oooo poor lil underdog" story. Imagine being the oldest AND having your younger siblings be better than you at everything and finding success faster than you. It would get the underdog message across even moreso, and that would be a way worse position to be in. Almost no piece of media has ever explored this.

Also if an older sibling is jealous of a younger sibling, they must be wicked and cruel. But if a younger sibling is jealous of an older sibling, we're supposed to feel sorry for them.

I have actually refused to watch shows or movies because of this. It makes me genuinely mad. Especially when I’m so far along in a series or if I have a strong love for a franchise just for it to pull this.

And it wouldn’t be making me this mad if people at least knew it as a trope. Like if it became as much of a thing as the middle child being invisible and people just recognized it as a trope it wouldn't piss me off this much. If it became an eye roll ‘oop here we go again’ that the audience groans about it wouldn't have driven me to this.

But the fact that I have EIGHTY AND COUNTING examples so clearly authors are doing it with intent and are consciously aware and it still falls on deaf ears where everyone I mention it to is all ‘huh what are you talking about?’ or change the subject or try their absolute hardest NOT to understand is what makes me want to scream. Like, FUCKING 80+!!! There has got to be some real intent behind this and when I call it out no one understands or wants to.

Fiction does have an impact on reality. Constantly putting firtborns under this light affects the way firsborns are treated in real life.

Their struggles aren't taken as seriously, people are quick to side with the younger sibling when there is conflict no matter what, and they'll be considered a failure or a loser if they can't live up to the 'perfection responsible leader' role they never signed up for.

Of all the media I've consumed, I could only find 5 positive examples of good older sibling characters that defy the stereotype in some way (13 if I'm being extremely generous)

To have just 5 - 13 well written good older siblings and over 80 bad ones, that's not okay.

If everything in my life was exactly the same but I was the youngest instead, if I was still the lonely fuckup black sheep who was bullied but I was younger, I would have been able to feel heard and have dozens of characters to relate to. But instead I'm isolated and invalidated even more and can neither have the cake or eat it.

No one ever talks about this, and when I try to everyone will cover their ears and change the subject or misunderstand it.

I’m probably going to blaze this because I will be heard. This current One Piece arc has deeply upset me and I already dedicated so much time and money to the series. Even if I have to keep shouting and posting about this over and over, I will be heard.

I will delete comments that trivialize, invalidate, miss the point, say something like “technically (insert character) isn’t evil,” or otherwise miss the forest for the trees. I will be heard no matter how many times it takes.

EDIT: Tumblr seems to be deleting all the rude comments before I can get to them or read the whole thing, but I caught two comments (rudely) telling me I should have tagged for spoilers.

I would never intentionally try to spoil people, but you are on the internet and this is such a small part of the story, a single panel that tells us the obligatory evil older twin is here. And the other thing I said was a prediction. A really obvious prediction that I know is going to happen but it still hasn’t happened yet? (At least not where I’m at)

One of them also said that because they’re the youngest and was abused, that this trope is good and accurate. And then invalidated my own trauma and experiences, gaslit me that the trope isn’t happening (so the trope is good AND it’s not real) and attempted a smear campaign on me.

I match energies on here. Give me respect and I will give you respect. I am under no obligation to be life’s bottom bitch all the time. This essay subject is THE most triggering and touchy personal thing of mine and I will not be discredited here. You attack me on this subject and I will slap the same right back in your face.

Anyone who was actually concerned about the spoiler could have messaged me with, “Hello, I noticed you blazed a One Piece spoiler about one of the characters and it is potentially going to reach a lot of fans that haven’t read this far yet. Could you cover up the spoiler and tag it as such?” And I would have said “Omg, I wasn’t even thinking about that. Yes, I will put a spoiler warning in. Thank you for telling me.”

That being said, if anyone genuinely has an issue with the top panel being shown and isn’t a dick, let me know and I can figure something out in a way that still gets the point across.

Tumblr seems to be deleting all my replies to people so I’m gonna address comments on here (the ones that Tumblr is showing)

@ the Edward Elric comment: Yes I love Ed so much, he is one of my favorite fictional characters if not my favorite. I only count Brotherhood Ed though, because in the original anime they shoehorn in a secret third older brother to Ed and Al who is evil.

@ Lin from Korra wasn’t the parent’s favorite: No, but she was the hardass ‘follow the rules’ one who tried to follow Toph’s footsteps, while Suyin got to be the rebel going against the grain. It doesn't mean Lin is a bad character, she just meets some of the annoying stereotypes. You can like any of these characters. I even like some of the characters on this list too, but I'm still gonna call it out.

@ not the sofia the first mention: …kay. There’s also one from the Kung Fu Panda TV series on Nickelodeon. This new Shanks/Shamrock brother dynamic is so old and it has on par writing with the Kung Fu Panda TV show.

@ blazing this post is some real older sibling behavior: If you actually read the whole thing and said this, I am jealous of your lack of empathy. I think I would be happier if I was more like you.

@ what about all these good older siblings in One Piece: Ace and Sabo are good but still have some issues. You also have to understand like, Luffy’s not an actual fascist nazi foiled up against poor Ace. I love Ace, but their dynamic is not exactly reverse to Shanks and Shamrock. Nojiko wasn't bad list worthy but she did still have some 'good girl' vibes and she hated Nami when it was frustratingly obvious she wasn't working for Arlong because she wanted to. And she's still the NPC status quo and main character role always goes to the younger one. This isn’t really a problem, like Nojiko’s fine and there’s nothing wrong with having characters like her, but I would say she’s not really a good subversion either. And for Katakuri I'm really talking about oldest, not second oldest or middle. And I only count same-sex/same-gender siblings. That's why I didn't have Zuko as a hard <3 example and have him under more of an honorable mention because he's just such a perfect subversion otherwise. If we're going by boy and girl siblings then there's plenty of good older ones and plenty more bad ones I could have used. Hancock is pretty good.

@ why do you think Tina is a bad one: I know a lot of people do like her, and I knew someone would question her on here. I put her in because I feel like they let the younger sister be the “cool” kind of weird and gave Tina the unflattering kind of weird. But I get that a lot of people actually like her. I might remove her.

For some of the rude comments that got deleted before I could read, I might blaze this again out of spite

EDIT 2:

Blazing again. Good job. You are proving my point that it's not always this way in real life. A good person wouldn't invalidate someone's trauma and make them feel like their experiences didn't matter.

Younger siblings absolutely do get mistreated by older siblings and it's BS that they have to go through that. But you're the delusional one if you think it can never be the other way around.

A normal good person could have just gone, "I am the youngest and I did get bullied by an older sibling, but I can empathize with this. I didn't realize this was such a huge trope, and I'm thankful I can feel heard but I'm sorry it's not like that for everyone. My experiences are valid and so are yours."

It's also just ageist?? You literally can't control when you were born? What happened to Franky's "EXISTING IS NOT A CRIME" speech.

For a pirate show about love and friendship and empathy, it has some of the nastiest unkind people as fans.

#siblings #family drama #one piece #shamrock figarland #stereotypes #gaming #anime #anime problems #bad writing #fiction

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sugarushwriting · 9 months ago

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ot7 vampire enhypen and their human blood bank (you) part two

ni-ki went rogue (yikes)

sfw with some innuendos (the nsfw is coming i promise)

not proof read

reblog, like, and let me know your thoughts! please don’t repost or translate.

kinda like a filler part (?) but still interesting and the next few parts get more interesting (?) please trust me and bare with me!

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

jay had picked you up and brought you straight to the house (actually mansion) the boys lived in. it was in a historic part of downtown, which happened to be no more than a 30 minute walk (5-7 minute drive) to main campus.

historic brick home, built in the 1800s and renovated to fit modern style but also kept the original charm and character. you loved the bookshelves and home library the house had. jay made sure to let you know you were welcome over whenever and that would be your safe space. when you were in the library, none of the boys would bother you. even if they had to feed, they would use the blood bags before bothering you.

5 bedrooms, 5 bathrooms, and a finished basement for entertainment. the newbies all share a bedroom. apparently jay was currently searching for a bigger house.

entering the house, sunoo and jungwon were waiting for you and jay to arrive back.

“where’s ni-ki?” you asked barely above a whisper.

“he’s downstairs with sunghoon and jake.” jay answered.

“and heeseung?”

“went to check on the girl in the hospital.”

you let out a big sigh of distress. you hope she was okay, you really did. but would she remember what happened? would she tell the cops on ni-ki and jeopardize the boys secret?

“what—what happened?” you asked looking at all three boys attentively and walked to were jungwon and sunoo sat. both immediately grabbed your hands in their own as jay sat on the coffee table facing you to explain what happened.

jay and sunghoon, the two being the oldest members (in vampire age) had always reiterated to the newbies how feeding on a human for the first time isn’t something to take lightly. it can be deadly for both sides, as well as the newbie losing control due to lust.

there was a curfew for the newbies. be home by 8 pm, if they needed to be out later, sunghoon or jay had to be with them. absolutely off limits was being alone with someone. not just a girl, but a guy too. a newbie will feed on any human with a heartbeat. you did learn though, whichever the newbie is attracted to though, the longing and lust would be stronger.

sunoo had warned ni-ki not to break the rules, but ni-ki insisted he would be okay. he had snuck out around 12 to go meet the girl. sunoo immediately told the olders when he awoke seeing ni-ki’s bunk below his empty around 1:30 am.

jay and sunghoon went out to find ni-ki, and luckily, it didn’t take long as sunoo had ni-ki’s laptop and saw the messages where they were meeting.

the girl had somehow cut her hand earlier that day, and while out with ni-ki her wound reopened. ni-ki smelt the flesh blood. his eyes changed and before the girl could even scream, his teeth had been embedded into her wrist. his other hand had gripped her other wrist so hard, his nails caused a cut, and he fed on that too.

while jay pulled ni-ki off, ni-ki, covered in blood on his face and shirt, smirked and ran off, leaving a trail. jay went after him. sunghoon stayed back to make sure the girl’s memory was erased from the last 30 minutes. he made sure she repeated,

“ni-ki and i said goodbye. he was not the cause of my accident.”

“how—what happened when you caught him? why did sunghoon leave the girl?”

“sunghoon wasnt going to leave her, but he heard someone coming.” jay explained, “i caught ni-ki in no time. although i’m and elder and he’s a newbie that was hyped on his first feed, i am still faster and stronger.”

jay explained how with ni-ki’s behavior right now, an elder needs to be with him at all times, as he wouldn’t be able to manipulate them. ni-ki also doesn’t have the ability to manipulate the one who changed him—hence why jake and sunghoon was with him.

“can i see him?” you asked standing up.

“i don’t think that’s a good idea, love.” jay shook his head but you pouted.

“please jay.” you begged. “i won’t be scared, i promise.”

“it’s not you being scared of him i am worried about. it’s how his behavior will be towards you.”

“what do you mean?” you crossed your arms. it couldn’t be that bad, could it?

“love, he’s very hungry, thirsty, lustful, right now. he’s chained in our basement in a small, hidden room we have for reasons like this. never thought we’d need it. if he smells you, heck he probably smells you now, he will literally not be able to control himself. his mind, emotions, words, all of it.”

“jay—,”

“no, i will not allow you to see him right now. he’s also very angry cause we are denying him of blood, and draining his body of the human thirst.”

your face dropped, “draining?”

“more like, detoxing. he won’t have blood, well, good, fresh blood for a while. the next day or 2, we will be giving him old blood, that doesn’t taste good, but will keep him alive.”

“and that will help him?”

jay nodded, “yes. it could take 12 hours or it could take 12 days.”

“what about school?”

“it’s already been taken care of, okay?” jay tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, then cradled your cheek. “are you hungry?”

you shook your head. “no just tired.” it was still early in the morning from being woke up out of your sleep.

“go lay in my bed. you can sleep in some of my clothes if needed.”

you smiled. “thanks jay.”

as you went up the stairs, jungwon turned to jay with panic in his eyes. “how am i supposed to feed on her now? i don’t want to hurt her, jay.”

“and you won’t because you’ll have me and one of the others with you, okay? we’ll guide you.”

jungwon shook his head with a sniffle, “i don’t want to lose control.”

“jungwon, if i didn’t think you could, i wouldn’t even had mentioned it as a possibility.” jay soothed, “you have the best control as a newbie that i’ve seen and i mean that.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you woke up next to an empty bed around 10 am. you sat up and stretched with a groan, your bones popping.

going to jay’s ensuite, you brushed your hair and teeth, before going downstairs to a quiet home.

you walked around looking for life (haha) but when you found no one, your eyes turned to the door leading to the basement. your heart picked up as your hand reached for the doorknob.

“baby doll, what are you doing?”

you jumped with a squeal hearing sunghoon behind you. he had a smile on his face showing his natural pointy k-9s.

“i, uh, i was looking for someone.” you scratched your head. “i walked around the house and didn’t find anyone.”

“that’s because we’re all still asleep.”

“why aren’t you?”

“i sensed you were up to no good.”

“what about jay? he’s not in bed.”

“he’s with ni-ki.” sunghoon said. “and jay made it very clear you are to not go in the basement, no matter how many times you pout and bat your eyelashes.”

you groaned. “fine.” your stomach grumbled. “can you fix me breakfast?”

“you know i’m not the best cook.”

“you’ve been dead slash alive for how long and you still can’t master it up like a chef like jay?”

“no matter how long we’ve been living, there are just some things you’ll never be good at.” sunghoon laughed and he led you to the kitchen.

“what do you want, baby doll?”

“mhmm, pancakes?”

“that, i can do.”

“can i help?” it was jungwon’s voice who joined you both in the kitchen, with sunoo right behind.

“sure. i thought you two would still be asleep.” sunghoon said, then explained how newbies usually sleep most of the day away for at least the first 6 months as they’re building up their strength.

“too worried about ni-ki.” sunoo sighed and sat at the barstool next to you.

“he’s fine.” heeseung’s voice was next to say as you heard the basement door shut.

you quickly turned around. “you were down there with him and jay?”

heeseung nodded. he kissed the top of your head with a “hi pretty,” greeting.

“how do you define, fine?” you challenged.

“he’s not dead—again.”

you smiled at the joke and nodded. “how long have you and jay been down there?”

“just about 3 hours.” heeseung yawned.

“you must be tired!” you gasped and turned to sunghoon, suddenly feeling guilty of having him make you breakfast.

“it’s no worries, okay? i’ll sleep after breakfast is done.” and sunghoon did just that. after finishing the pancakes to feed the whole house, he went back to to his room to sleep.

heeseung explained to sunoo and jungwon that he would be taking them out today to learn to control their urges while in public.

“where are we going?”

“fighting match.” heeseung smirked.

“so violent!” you screwed your face in disgust.

after those three left, jay was still downstairs with ni-ki, jake was still fast asleep, and sunghoon was asleep in his room.

you took the opportunity to go to the library and find a book to read. eventually you fell asleep on the big couch that was in the library.

ni-ki, it was ni-ki. but why were you in the basement?

“help me.” ni-ki pleaded and you went closer to him. poor boy looked pathetic. he was extremely pale and looked as if he hadn’t eaten in years!

“i need to feed or i’ll die.” he said. your feet moved before your mouth. his eyes changed, and his fangs came out.

“feed on me.” you said.

ni-ki’s smile did not look welcoming. his smile looked creepy. the basement light flickered and the next light, ni-ki was covered in blood staring at you. “don’t mind if i do.”

just as ni-ki went to attack, you awoke startled, you too out of breath to even scream. you were gasping desperately for air, and looked around your surroundings.

you were still in the library. the book fell to the ground. your hand went to your head as you felt a headache forming. “what the fuck was that?” you whispered to yourself.

“you okay?” sunghoon asked from the doorway to the library.

you turned with a startle, but smiled and nodded. “i’m good.”

“are you done reading?”

you nodded and got up from the couch putting the book on the shelf. “you need to feed? it’s been a while.” you asked.

sunghoon nodded, “if you don’t mind doll.”

“i don’t.” you said truthfully. another thing you learned is that the older vampires (jay and sunghoon) can go longer in between feeds, especially since their feeds are more intense.

once you reached the doorway to the library, sunghoon intertwined your hands together and led you to his bedroom.

you got in a spot on his bed lying down. you were still in your (jays) shorts, so sunghoon would have no trouble accessing your right thigh. just like jake, his favorite place to feed was your upper thigh.

in no time, sunghoon had his teeth sunk into you. you let out a quick groan of pain with the initial feeling, but it didn’t last long. as sunghoon fed, your mind with fuzzy, and your head fell back on the bed. you don’t remember sunghoon gripping your other leg to make sure you stayed open for him. you don’t remember him finishing, his face stricken with panic as he noticed you weren’t responding to him.

“baby doll, open.” you faintly heard him say.

“what’s wrong with her?” it was jake’s aussie accent.

“i don’t know.” sunghoon said with genuine concern. the guys always made sure you had enough energy and strength before feeds, and they made sure that you knew that. if you didn’t feel well, you were supposed to tell them.

your mouth was opened by jakes fingers and a thick drink was poured down your throat. it was some kind of protein shake to hopefully get your strength back up.

your breathing resumed to a normal rate. you don’t know how long you were out, but you had the same nightmare about ni-ki.

this time when you startled awoke, sunghoon and jake were there. “baby doll, what happened?”

“nightmare.” you said, but sunghoon and jake demanded you told them about it. and when you did, sunghoon wasn’t happy.

sunghoon stormed off out of his room, down to the basement, ignoring jays confused face as he opened the door to the single blocked off room. ni-ki was there, smirk on his face.

“aw man, you’re not who i wanted to see.” he chuckled.

“leave her alone!” sunghoon yelled.

jay rushed in beside sunghoon. “what happened?”

before either boy could speak, they heard your footsteps coming down the basement steps. your eyes glazed over in almost a trance.

“she wouldn’t stop! i didn’t want to hurt her.” jake voiced with worry from behind you.

both sunghoon and jay turned to ni-ki who still had an all knowing smile on his face. “what?” he clicked his tongue. “looks like she wants me to feed on her.”

“ni-ki.” was all you said. before you could step closer, sunghoon slammed the door back, and jay rushed to your side.

“wake up.” he commanded. you did so. his tone was dark and deep, which was probably his authority as head vampire.

“huh?” you looked around confused. you noticed you were in the basement when you saw the pool table. then you panicked looking at jay. “jay,” you began but jay cut you off.

“no worries love. go upstairs and pack an overnight bag. jake, go get jungwon to meet in the living room with an overnight bag as well.”

you didn’t question or argue and went straight upstairs with jake right behind you.

sunghoon and jay discussed amongst themselves. the detox wasn’t working quick enough. ni-ki smelt you from the moment you walked in that door. with sunghoon feeding on you, it got stronger, your smell.

ni-ki had tried to use mind control to let him feed on you. that’s why you were drained so quickly from sunghoon’s feeding.

“i knew it was a bad idea bringing her here, sunghoon.” jay explained. “i’m taking her and jungwon to a hotel overnight.”

“make sure she eats really well.” sunghoon warned, not wanting earlier events to happen again.

jay and sunghoon have decided, it was time for jungwon to feed.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

#enhypen drabbles #enhypen smut #vampire enhypen #enhypen vampire au #enhypen fanfiction #reader x jay #reader x enhypen #reader x heeseung #reader x jake #reader x sunghoon #reader x jungwon #reader x sunoo #reader x ni-ki

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simpingland · 2 years ago

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The rumors// Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader.

Requ: May I request a piece with Aemond x Blackwood!Reader? Was thinking that the oldest daughter of the Blackwoods gets betrothed to Aemond in order for the Greens to gain their support, Aemond is not ecstatic about it but he finds that lady Blackwood is fascinating person, very intelligent and very much..like him.So of course he slowly falls for her and in spite of her cold/sarcastic demeanour she truly sees Aemond for who he is and falls for him at first glance (but of course he doesn't have to know that:).

Summary: Aemond is forced to marry a woman he was more than happy to ignore. But her sarcasm, brain skills and a knee injury makes him feel a bit too passionate for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your father had quickly changed his colors as soon as the largest dragon in existence landed on the mountain closest to his castle. Of course, Aemond showed no threat; he knew he had to get an army that was willing to defend Aegon, not hate him. So he passively aggressively asked for the army of Lord Samwell Blackwood, who ruled a considerable part of the Riverlands, in exchange for something else. And of course, the lord had you, a daughter of appropriate age, hard to marry and smart enough to know how to grow the Blackwood power at court. So he asked for a marriage. You could see the Prince let out a sigh from your hiding place, but he agreed. It was a conscious decision that you found yourself "indisposed" in the days leading up to your wedding. In these, you spent your time wandering the corridors in the shadows, following the Prince at a distance and meeting the women with reliable sources who told you what Aemond Targaryen was like. Best of all, you knew he knew nothing of you. That was an advantage.

The wedding was rushed, held in your own home, making it clear to the Tullys and Bracken that their support for Aegon was expected. If they did not support your House, you were likely to be the victim of a mysterious death, and the Brackens would be happy with the news, but the Tullys would not. You were dressed in red, the black was entirely removed from your dress, and your jewels and veil silvered. Under the veil you could see him watching you with that blue eye, and when he withdrew it, you could see an indecipherable change in his face. Whether he was happy or not didn't matter to you, because he was surprised, and that was interesting. You exchanged vows, touching his hand for the first time, as cold as you expected, and he could hear your voice. He only looked away when you looked at him, but the rest of the time you were sure he was following you. He kissed your hand courteously at the end of the ceremony.

"Does your wine not please you, my lady?" His voice surprised you, his gaze resting on your glass, still full.

"It pleases me as much as it surely pleases you, my Prince," you replied. He hadn't had a drop either.

"I'm tryingto keep a clear mind."

"Some men drink their fill precisely to clear their heads. Besides, you shouldn't be nervous, I'll tell you which hole is the right one."

The sly grin that appeared on your face made him clench his jaw in frustration. Perhaps, a dragon rider, such a fearful prince, would react with fists and shouts at the taunt. But Aemond decided to pick up his goblet and take a good swallow.

"It's going to be a long night, I'm afraid," he said it as a kind of threat, but to you it sounded as if it was more of a nightmare.

And he stared at his failure to scare you, as you continued to eat with glee.

The bedding was not public thanks to your father, but you did spend the night with Aemond. He was reluctant to undress, so neither did you. He sat in front of the fire in your room while you watched Vhagar from your balcony.

"Are you going to force me to ride on the dragon to King's Landing?" You asked without turning around.

"If you prefer, go on horseback. But by the time you reach the castle I will have marched off to war." He sounded serious.

"It doesn't sound as bad as you think it does."

You heard him rise from the chair, and then you were a little afraid. He walked quickly towards you, placing his face inches from yours, his hands grasping and squeezing your arms.

"Then you will enjoy an extremely lonely time, my dear. No one will know who you are and neither they would want to find out. And if I die in battle, with no heirs, no one will ever care for you. They'll send you back here and you'll become old and a burden. And if we lose the war, there will be no one to protect you." His soft voice spoke calmly despite the venom they gave off.

"I never said I didn't want to ride in Vhagar, my Prince." Your reassurance surprised him, as did your hands resting on his chest gently. "I'd rather ride and stay there with you...I'm sure it's much more fun."

And without further ado, you turned away and set about sleeping, or pretending to. Aemond never got to lie in bed with you. But soon he would, you needed time. The flight to King's Landing was quick, in silence and quite impressive. Clinging more to the chair than to Aemond, you didn't tell him how impressed you were with the sensation. He didn't want to ask you any questions, but looked at you in search for something to make him feel satisfied, but it was hard to impress you. When you landed, he helped you off the beast and you decided not to let go of his hand. And so the Dowager Queen Alicent saw you.

"Did you enjoy your flight?" she asked politely.

"The truth is, yes. Now I understand why children are willing to lose precious things in exchange for flying with them..." they both looked at you quizzically. Of course, the source of the loss of Aemond's eye was just a rumour, a rumour you had heard. You smiled, noting the tension in both of them. "Like little Ronnel Arryn when Visenya asked him to surrender."

Your explanation was enough for Alicent, but Aemond could tell it was a trick answer, that you had someone else in mind. And when you reached your chambers, the one you would share for the rest of your lives, Aemond did not hesitate to corner you against the wall in one of his graceful moves. His hands rested on your cheeks, squeezing hard enough to keep you quiet and your gaze locked with his.

"I don't know what's going through your mind, but I don't like a single tone in your voice." His voice was laden with anger, anger at not knowing. "You think by smiling at the end of every sentence people forget how irritating you are."

"You barely know me..." you tried to say with his fingers so tightly pressed to your face. "But I'm glad to see I was right to bet that I was going to have a good time with you."

"I'm not a buffoon." His face was so close to yours that you had to turn your own away.

"I know better, my Prince. With that hair and that dragon there is no doubt about it. It must bother you that there are people in the kingdom who don't see Jacaerys and Lucerys for what they really are...mustn't it?"

His hand loosened slightly, and Aemond seemed to calm down. He waited for you to draw another smirk again, watching your lips slowly. But that smile did not come, for you knew you had hit the nail on the head. Your bad luck was that Aemond was almost as smart as you, and only trusted you for those brief seconds. Then he squeezed your face again before releasing it abruptly.

Even though Aemond was constantly wandering, Helaena was the best company. She was the one who explained to you everything that was really going on in that castle, even though it was hard to understand her. Her words were never clear, and she got lost in the middle of conversations. What reassured you most was that Aemond was a tender brother, caring for the children Aegon had neglected from the beginning. And if Aemond was patient with a girl like Helaena, it indicated that there must be something good in the prince everyone feared. Now all that remained was to keep him more than a few minutes at your side.

Then came the opportunity to visit Oldtown, to meet Daeron and make sure that the Hightower would support the Greens and how good that support was. On this dragon ride, you decided to put your hands on his waist, consciously moving them all over his abdomen, trying to unnerve him. And at your attempts, Aemond commanded Vhagar to fly in a brute and exaggerated way. A bad idea, for although she managed to scare you, the dragon was very old and hurt herself, brushing against the mountains as you passed Horn Hill. Had they been higher, you would have been killed, but Aemond controlled the situation before it got worse, and the fall only resulted in a rough landing in the mountains.

"Why did you do that?" you shouted as soon as you saw that Aemond was still alive, a few metres away. He was able to get up and approach you, putting on the patch before you could see him without it. "We could have died!"

"You were the one triying to to piss me off!" You were still lying on the ground, your leg felt sore, and you didn't want to move it.

"Is that why you asked Vhagar to shake himself in the air?" You were indignant, somewhat flattered, but mostly indignant.

"You were trying to distract me!" he justified himself, looking down at you from above.

"You should have told me to stop!"

"And would you have stopped?"

He watched as you fell silent. Obviously you wouldn't have, you would have ended up finding some other way to irritate him. Then Aemond offered you a hand to help you up, and you took it. But a pain in your leg made you grunt and fall back down. It was sharp, but not exaggerated. Aemond bent down to check your wound, and without any embarrassment, lifted your skirt.

"Wow, you can do that and I can't hold on to your chest?" Even in pain, you still laughed at him. And Aemond's gaze commanded you to shut up.

His hands gently touched your knee, and the pain returned. You saw Aemond quickly pull his hands away and cover you again.

"Good thing it's not broken," he said, standing up again.

"What a joy... Now you're just going to leave me lying here?"

With another deep sigh of his own, he lifted you up without difficulty, careful not to move your knee too much. And it took you a while to mount Vhagar again.

This time you would not be behind, but in front of Aemond, both legs to one side, and Aemond's arms as a barrier. He placed your hands firmly on the collar of his coat and your legs wrapped as tightly as possible around his. Your face was basically buried in his neck and his scent clouded any other scent.

"Don't move" he whispered in your ear. And you didn't, also, you didn't wanted to. The rest of the flight was quiet and pleasant, and you could watch Aemond's face as much as you wished to. The arrival in Oldtown was rushed to say the least, Aemond wanted to leave you with the Maesters while he met with the more important lords.

"But I want to be present," you demanded, still in his arms.

"Your leg must be checked," he justified.

"I want to know everything, I refuse to have made this journey to stay locked up in my room.

"You simply can't."

He spoke to you as if you were stupid, but when you grabbed his coat tightly, you surprised him with your change of tone.

"Take me with you right now, Aemond, or I swear you will lose the support of the Rivelands with one word from me."

He could barely attend to the meeting, seeing you sitting with dignity in the chair, attentive to the words of the lords and maesters, and disguising the pain in your leg. He felt rather guilty, for besides, Aemond had gained nothing, for you continued to impress everyone who came across you. You knew by heart all the information you had received, you knew what your father was planning, and what Otto was planning. You looked like the Princess, not Aemond. And when the meeting was over, he saw you stand up with a grimace, and ran to hold you, letting you lean your full weight on him slyly.

"Now you're really going to see a Maester, wife."

"About time, this is all your fault."

He was going to argue, but as he turned he saw that smile again. Something in him melted and he knew he had to surrender to you, for he was losing that futile battle.

In the room, with your knee smeared with a medicated cream and covered with care, Aemond saw you reposition yourself on the bed, now comfortable.

"I didn't know you liked politics," Aemond said, watching you from across the room.

"I don't. But I want to survive."

"You don't trust us to win this war?"

"I trust nothing, ever. You have to be prepared for anything."

"I agree," he moved closer to the bed. He brushed your sore knee gently. "Does that mean you'll never trust me?"

"For starters, you tried to shake me off your dragon."

Aemond's gaze softened, moving his hand away from your knee but sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry. You made me nervous."

"And to continue," you interrupted him, "you won't let me get to know you. And I remind you that you are now my husband."

"I've never met a woman who wants to be so involved with her husband's affairs." He smiled slightly, wryly.

"That's because you don't know many women...as the rumours say."

"The rumours?" you nodded. "Do you listen to the rumours?"

"No, I just listen and wait. You'd be surprised how many times I've seen them confirmed. Just now was one of them."

"You think I haven't been with a lot of women?" Aemond slowly bent down to close the distance, and his breath circled over your face. You had to hide your nervousness, for he didn't seem angry this time.

"You don't like my touch... But I assumed it was because I am little more than a stranger to you. I do not think you a virgin, but I know you have loved few women. If you ever have..." His weight began to fall on top of you, covering you with his body.

"And what else do the rumours say?"

"That your eye is replaced with a diamond. Though I've also heard that it's empty dark, and that's why you cover it."

His lips landed on your neck, where he left you a soft kiss.

"And what do you think I'm wearing?" His voice sounded husky and you felt its vibration.

"I've seen your books, many of history, and many of gemstones, an incredible boring reading... But not to look like a diamond man." You turned your face to him, forcing him to look at you, and saw his blue eye with the pupil dilated, glittering. "It's a stone, but not a diamond."

"And what stone do you think it is, wife?"

"I don't know. I've been thinking more about other things. And I have little interest in what's behind a patch. You covered your eye for a reason and I will respect that."

He seemed surprised, your tone was, for the first time, serious and cutting. And he liked that better than he expected.

"Everything I've heard about you is that you were a hard woman to marry."

"That's because no one delivered what I asked for. I have not been so obedient to my father's orders when offering my hand to a random lord."

"And what is it you ask, my lady?"

"I am no longer a lady."

"True, my princess." He couldn't help but smile when he saw the pride appear on your face.

"What I ask, my prince...is that my marriage will bring change to House Blackwood. It is because of us that The Riverland is so powerful. And the Tullys and Brackens get all the credit. We were kings once. And we can be kings again. Just one dragon can be incredible powerfull."

Aemond stroked your hair, then your lips with his thumb. You let your husband touch you tenderly for the first time. You caressed that face too, and Aemond kissed your fingers.

"I find it hard to believe that my wife seems tailor-made for me," he said at last. "We may die as Princes, but I swear to you our children will be kings."

"But that requires some irritating and distracting...Touches."

"I will have to make the sacrifice then of-" Aemond tried to joke, but you cut him off, kissing him at last on those lips.

They were warmer than you had expected, perhaps, in the comfort of the bed, with the lust stirring and the fantasy of creating a family, Aemond's body had been comforted by the feel of yours so close. And he fell surrendered in your arms, eagerly receiving and sharing that kiss that ended in something much bigger. That day, without rumours, without theories, you got to know Aemond completely, as a prince, as a husband, as a lover, as a man. He was all your, as you were all his, maybe, and just maybe, because he trusted you as much as you trusted him.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon x reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye

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saisuta-art · 1 month ago

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THE SILLIES YAAAAAY!!!!! ヾ（〃＾∇＾）ﾉ♪

I've revisited my take on the Koopalings with revamped designs based on their hooman forms and giving them more love than nintendo ever gave them and I think I've finished setting up my AU and don't need to change anything else :0 so I'll tell you all about it under da cut!!!! ٩(◦`꒳´◦)۶

THE BASICS

In this AU, the Koopalings are Bowser's biological children.

Bowser Jr does not exist in this AU.

The AU takes place after the events of Super Mario Odyssey, meaning the Broodals show up in it too.

They are usually in human forms but I will draw their koopa forms occasionally.

Their personalities are vastly different from canon. I've kept some aspects from their canon personalities, but most of it has been rewritten.

CHARACTER INFORMATION

LARRY

Age: 15 | MBTI: INTP

The youngest of the siblings. He spends most of the time listening to his music and not caring much for what's around him. He usually appears listless and uninterested, however, when it comes to tennis matches, he changes completely. He will do anything to win, even cheat, and he is known to be a HUGE sore loser!

WENDY

Age: 16 | MBTI: ENTJ

The second youngest, born after Roy and Morton. She is a spoiled rotten brat who always gets the most expensive clothes, jewels and make-up that she can find in order to always look elegant. If she doesn't get her way, she will scream until she wins! She is extremely jealous of the princesses from Mushroom Kingdom and will go great lenghts to look better than them. However, she has a secret caring side for her brothers.

ROY

Age: 16 | MBTI: ENTP

The middle one in between Wendy and Morton. Roy's your average cool jock type: always flexing his muscles, training all day and trying to impress cute girls but failing miserably at it. Wendy often takes out her rage on him by yelling at him or attacking him, but deep down he knows she still appreciates him!

MORTON

Age: 16 | MBTI: ESTJ

Born before Roy and Wendy. As the most strict of the Koopalings, he is in charge of making Bowser's minions work 24/7 and reinforcing the rules so that nobody is caught slacking off. He is also known for being a loudmouth as he can spend hours talking even if nobody's listening to him, and he's got the perfect lungs for screaming too. Toads often mock him by comparing him to a brute caveman.

IGGY

Age: 17 | MBTI: ESFP

The third oldest. Being the most hyperactive, extroverted and unpredictable, he is a real wild child! There's never a monotonous time whenever he pops in! However, he also has a demented side and often has psychotic episodes where he'll cause rampages and hurt anyone who gets in his way, so Larry and Lemmy have to restrain him by strapping up his straightjacket.

LEMMY

Age: 17 | MBTI: ISFP

Despite his child-like appearance, he is actually the second oldest of the Koopalings, being born after Ludwig and before Iggy. He is calm and mature as he wants to act his age. He also hates being patronised for his short stature and demands to be taken seriously. But he is still interested in the circus and practices all the time to be the best performer in the world!

LUDWIG

Age: 18 | MBTI: INTJ

The oldest Koopaling and the one who'll inherit the throne after King Bowser. He is intelligent, haughty, cunning and cocky. He is also antisocial, a bit of a misanthrope and he hates meeting other people, so he spends a long time shut in his room, playing the piano and writing music compositions. However, in front of Mario and Luigi, he'll act like the leader of the group, which his siblings despise.

#digital art #digital illustration #fanart #super mario bros #smb #nintendo #nintendo fanart #koopalings #larry koopa #morton koopa jr #wendy o koopa #iggy koopa #roy koopa #lemmy koopa #ludwig von koopa #au #alternate universe

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potatoplace · 2 months ago

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Mother Knows Best

Poly!SJM Week 2025: Day 2 | @polysjmweek

Kallias x Viviane x Reader

Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist | Event Masterlist

Summary: Your High Lord and Lady, your closest friends, have called you in to see them for dinner. You're worried they know of your feelings for them, but it turns out, you have nothing to fear.

Warnings: mild angst but nothing bad

Words: ~2.2k

Author's Note: here's Day 2! A tiiiny bit late but who cares lol. I really liked getting to write this pairing, I'll definitely be doing more of them in the future!! Also if something doesn't make sense, yes it does. Read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🩵🩵🤍🩵🩵

Your knees ached from kneeling on the cold marble for so long, your heart heavy from the prayers you’d been repeating in your head for over an hour.

You blessed me with such friendship, and cursed me with affection.

Please, just let me live without these feelings.

Let me stay with my friends.

Let them love me back.

Over and over, you prayed to the Mother to solve your problem. To keep you from being made to leave your court, to keep you with your oldest friends, the ones you love.

You had grown up in close proximity to both Kallias and Viviane, being an orphaned fae living in the Winter Court’s grand temple, connected to the High Lord’s palace. Your pale blue skin and curved, white horns on your head had made you feel out of place among so many High Fae, but Kal and Viv?

They had befriended you without a thought.

And while Viviane had moved away when you were all in your second century, the three of you had stayed thick as thieves, sneaking away every night before Winter Solstice to Kallias’s cabin, and any other night you could manage. You would stay up all night, catching up on the goings-on in your lives, drinking just enough spiced wine to warm your bodies against the inevitable blizzard raging outside.

Though even without the wine, or the blazing fire in the fireplace, their presence alone would have kept you plenty warm.

Your… Feelings for the pair had arisen on one of those nights, when the three of you had snuggled close under a blanket, Kallias and Viviane on either side of you. The closeness of them, the soft puff of their breath on your neck, the gentle brush of their hands.

Of course, it didn’t help that they were so kind and considerate, always willing to listen to you. And oh, how they brought you so much joy without even trying. Hearing about their day, or even the random, strange thoughts that would pop into their heads never failed to bring a smile to your face, spark the flame of joy within your chest.

And in the last century and a half, those feelings had never faded, only growing stronger with each passing day.

Of course, you had never spoken aloud your attraction, your love for either Kallias or Viviane, utterly afraid of rejection. You saw the way they looked at each other, the pure love in their eyes, even if they were too stubborn to admit it yet. Early on, you suspected that they were mates, with the way they were always on the same wavelength.

Kal had been busy being raised as the High Lord’s heir, most of his days crammed full of meetings and lessons. Viviane had been trained as a courtier, as well as honing her magical abilities with the help of Kallias, their powers so similar. And when Kal had sent her to a large border town, near the Summer Court, she had taken a position of leadership in their armed forces after excelling in physical combat, once given the chance to learn.

You had joined the priesthood early, as soon as you had been allowed by the High Priestess of Winter. She had taken you in at the age of two, the closest you had to a mother. In the four centuries you had been alive, you rose to the top of the ranks, your devotion to the mother and the people of Winter your top priority in every way. Just before the rule of Amarantha, you had earned the title of Head Priestess, just a step below the High Priestess, Jayna.

However… Amarantha had slaughtered most of the priestesses in Winter when your court had rebelled, along with the two dozen younglings who’d had their minds shattered by her daemati. Your near-mother, Jayna, had been among those killed.

In a cruel twist of fate, you had been given her position by Amarantha, her maniacal cackle still ringing in your ears some nights when she had appointed you, laughing about how distraught the Mother would be to see such pitiful scum, a lesser fae, in charge of one of her temples.

But when Kallias had been freed, nearly fifty years later?

He had officially appointed you as High Priestess, a new, more ornate circlet made for you to wear, made to fit easily around your curved horns - a detail that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Before that, though, before he had given you your title, he had rushed to Viviane, confessing his love and asking for her hand in marriage. Not even a day later, you had married them using your title as High Priestess, your heart so, so happy, but so, so broken, three sharp, jagged pieces constantly digging into your chest.

You were so, unbelievably happy that your friends were married, and even happier that they were happily mated, their bond finally having come to life after the wedding night.

You only wished to be a part of it.

Over the past two years you had slowly withdrawn, leaving your friends space to learn their new relationship dynamic without your presence, an unwelcome third wheel.

Not that they’d indicated any discomfort with you being near them, but… You needed to give them space.

To give yourself space.

But earlier today, while you were taking your lunch, a note had arrived, sealed with Viviane’s personal seal.

Asking you to dinner, saying the three of you had something to discuss.

You’d managed to make your way through the rest of the day without giving away how utterly nervous you were feeling, performing blessings on those who came, seeking your help. An hour before you were due to arrive at the High Lord and Lady’s personal quarters, you sought the guidance of the Mother herself.

Well… Begged for guidance, help from the Mother. She had never led you wrong before, though you wish she’d allowed you more power to save those who had been under your care during Amarantha’s rule.

But now?

She was giving you nothing, no hints as to what to do in this situation.

And you were out of time.

With a sigh, you stood from your kneeling position at the altar, lowering your invoking stone back to your chest, resting over silvery blue robes.

You knew the way to their shared rooms so well, you could have walked the path with your eyes shut. But the closer you came to their door, the slower your steps, the more your nerves told you to turn around.

That wasn’t a possibility, though. You have to face them, even if it’s for the last time, for them to kick you out of their court.

You took a deep breath when you stood before their door, preparing yourself for whatever may happen once you enter. One knock and the door swung open, your hand still poised to knock again.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Viviane exclaimed, throwing her arms around you and squeezing you tightly, her vanilla and cinnamon scent washing over you as her silver hair bounced over your shoulders. She pulled back to look at you with her sparkling blue eyes before saying, “I feel like it’s been forever! And your hair looks gorgeous, by the way.” Her fingers ran through the ends of your hair, half an inch longer than when she’d last seen you, the natural curls of your azure hair a bit more noticeable.

“Thank you, Viv, and yes… It’s been a bit since we’ve met, just the three of us,” you said as she tugged you inside, closing the door behind you.

Their private dining table, made to seat four, was already set with dinner, steam rising from the roast chicken, and you could spy potatoes, carrots, and onions in the dish surrounding the bird. Kallias was busy pouring the wine, sparkling white, your favorite.

He looked up when you and Viviane approached him, a warm smile crossing his face when he saw you. “Y/N, it’s lovely to see you again dear,” he said before setting the bottle down on the table and approaching you, arms outstretched.

Even with your promise to yourself to give them space, you couldn’t help but melt into his hold, inhaling his refreshing pine and snow scent greedily.

“It’s good to see you too, Kal,” you said with a nervous smile when you pulled away. “The food looks lovely.”

Viviane smiled brightly at you before tugging you to the table, settling you into a chair before taking the one to your right, Kallias sitting to your left. He began carving the roast while Viviane dishes out the roasted vegetables and cut a fresh loaf of bread into thick slices.

Your hands rested uselessly in your lap as you watched them work, twitching every so often when it looks like they need help, but they never truly do.

And by the time the food was plated, your stomach was so twisted in knots all you could do was push food around your plate, occasionally taking a bite when you could manage.

It took maybe ten minutes for one of them to knock you out of your stupor.

“Y/N, is something wrong?” Kallias asked, concerned enough that your eyes snapped from a roast carrot to his ice blue eyes, fear in your heart that you’d been caught.

“Wha- what do you mean is something wrong?” you laughed nervously. “Nothing’s wro-”

“Don’t say that,” Viviane interrupted, a sharp look in her eye. “You’ve been avoiding us for the past year whenever you can, and don’t say you haven’t because you have.” She fixed you with a stare when you opened your mouth to deny the accusation. “And now you’ve barely eaten a thing, and you can’t even look me in the eye,” Viviane noted sadly.

“Don’t try to act like she’s not stating the facts, Y/N,” Kallias said gently, taking one of your hands into his. “We miss you, and we just want to know why. Why you’re pulling away from us.”

With both of them staring at you, their beautiful, concerned eyes watching your every move, you fell apart. You wrenched your hand from Kallias’s grasp to bury your face in both of them, wanting to hide the tears welling in your eyes, even if you knew it was useless in the long run.

You were still here, in their rooms, with few ways to escape the conversation other than fleeing the court entirely. And you weren’t willing to do that, unless you had to.

“Hey,” Viviane said softly, a delicate hand pulling yours away from your face, revealing red eyes with tears pooled in them. One fell down your cheek and Kallias’s thumb brushed it away. “Please, Y/N?”

More tears fell at her plea, and you shook your head. You wouldn’t - couldn’t tell them.

“Will you at least let us tell you the reason we invited you for dinner?” Kallias asked quietly, a hand cupping your cheek gently.

Tell you something? Probably that you’re banished from the court, your mind hissed at you.

But you needed to hear one way or the other.

So you nodded your head.

Viviane took a deep, calming breath before speaking. “I-I wanted to tell you that I love you, Y/N. And I… I’ve loved you for a long time,” she whispered.

Your heart caught in your throat - this couldn’t be real, could it?

Kallias turned your gaze from Viviane to him with a gentle hand on your chin. “I have loved you since we were younglings, Y/N, barely old enough to wander the city without guards accompanying me. I have loved you, and I wish that the mating bond would snap to include you to, I care for you so deeply. And Viv has told me the same, we just…” Kallias sighed.

“We can’t live without you, Y/N. Please, please come back to us,” Viviane pleaded as she held one of your hands tightly in hers.

You could hardly believe what you were hearing - Kallias and Viviane, your friends, your longtime crushes - they had felt the same way about you as you did them for years? A giggle left your lips at the idea, the sheer stupidity of the three of you.

The swish of Viv’s hair told you that she and Kal had made eye contact at the noise, likely exchanging concerned looks.

“Is… Is everything… Okay?” Viv asked shyly.

You giggled again. “Everything is- oh, Mother!” you laughed. “You’re telling me that we could have been happy together all this time?” You looked at the two of them, eyes bright. “Really?”

Viviane grinned at you. “Really,” she breathed.

“When you put it like that, the three of us do seem a bit foolish,” Kal chuckled before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “So? Will you have us?”

You smiled wide as you answered. “Yes!”

Immediately you were pulled from your chair as the two pushed it back, pulling you into their arms. “Oh, thank the Mother,” Kallias sighed.

It was Viviane who kissed you first, her soft, pink lips pressing gently to yours. Kallias’s followed shortly after, pressing more firmly to yours, more sure.

Tears filled your eyes for an entirely different reason.

Perhaps the Mother sent you no sign, no course of action for a reason. To be here.

The Mother knows best, after all.

🩵🩵🤍🩵🩵

General Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @meritxellao @twismare @wrenisrad @icey--stars

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cilleatandserve · 2 days ago

Text

ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛꜱ

Masterlist

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Prostitute(reader)

Warnings: Prostitution from young age, hinted sa, oral f, oral m, slight bruising, anal, yearning

A/N: Not too proud of this one- feels rushed but don’t want to rewrite. Influenced by my own experiences (not romanticized). Sorry for mistakes!!

“Don’t let the lines blur between business and pleasure”

Says your supervisor, her thick New Jersey accent echoing through your head. One rule, drilled into you since day one.

You’d worked in a brothel for what felt like your whole life. Although you preferred the term, independent contractor.

Also forming a deep sisterhood with the young girls you grew up with, being forced into the harsh industry at an inexperienced age. After a while, everything fades into eachother. Every touch, kiss, word. Becomes a repeat of a past encounter.

You were popular amongst the rest. Not the oldest nor youngest, just in between. You presume it for your curves, to which you had a love hate relationship.

Love was a foreign concept. A social construct, really. You'd seen its messy reality first hand from your clients. They get clingy and then dump you. Even in your colleagues, they’d accidentally fall in love with their customer and end up a single mother. Ofcourse you never reciprocated. All times but one.

Your first time. A memorable time that you couldn’t quite remember. Fragments come in dreams, or rather in nightmares. “It’s your turn to l-”

You shoot back awake, someone’s head between your legs. Fuck. Sleeping on the job would ruin your reputation.

“What do you want me to do to you?”

You hear from below. You had seen this type one too many times. Old men with unsatisfied wives trying to please short lived needs.

“Whatever.”

You say resting on your elbows before resting your head. The comfort of the bed a contrast to the discomfort of the fat fingers surrounding your neck.

You weren’t afraid of walking home late. After all you could gain more clients. That was a joke. You enter your personal haven. Although not so personal, you had a roommate. You’re bonded by the trauma of the brothel. Bonds are really all you need to survive in this world.

…

“Y/n. You need to be careful. One day you’re going to visit the wrong man and who’s going to help you?”

I examine the purple bruise on my neck, pressing a wet cloth on it. “I don’t need help. I’ve made it this far through the absence of said.”

…

The brothel was never boring. You listened to the girls' troubles, offering a comforting presence. You braided the hair of the youngest, barely 18, who reminded you so much of yourself. You couldn't help but feel protective, especially when she mentioned her upcoming appointment with your least favorite type of client – gangs.

But she didn’t have the status like you, the option to decline. You listened to her express her distaste, and you couldn't help but step in. "I can pick it up. I'm free Saturday."

…

Was it worth the hugs you got?

You think as you approach the Shelby house. You had four spoken rules: No gangsters, No attached feelings, Saturday’s off, and the ability to stop whenever necessary. Although you rarely stopped, only when the hallucinations are vivid.

…

You were better than average for a whore, he’ll admit that. Explains the price, although you couldn’t be a day over 25. He puts out his cigarette before insisting on opening the door himself to his maids.

…

“Sorry. You’ve been in the business for how long?” He almost coughs on his whiskey.

“A little less than a decade.” You expected a more interesting gang leader. Good God.

“Don’t be scared. I don’t bite.”

Ofcourse his first impression is a scared little girl. How much more small talk is necessary?

“Come here. On your knees.”

You unconsciously get up, kneeling before him. Looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Keep your eyes on me.”

He says as he unzips his pants, letting his cock spring free. Which was bigger than average, just saying.

“Go ahead.”

You stick your tongue out. You had done this a hundred times, yet your hands still got sweaty in your lap. Remembering the limited patience, you wrap your pink lips around his tip. As you begin to move downwards, you feel a thumb at your cheek. The cold pad almost waking you up.

“Take your time.”

You swirl his tip around in your mouth, watching him adjust his hips and rest his head back. You focus on his groans as you hollow your cheeks and move upwards and downwards. His hands tangle in your hair, urging you forward as he struggles to keep himself together.

He pulls you up with a pop and grabs your chin, rough but not enough to hurt. Not long after, he lends a hand to lift you and lead you to the bed. Lifting up your dress, he eyes you up and down. His gaze staying on the bruise on your neck a moment too long. Flipping you over onto your stomach, he allows you to get comfortable as he rips a condom with his teeth

…

Before you know it, he’s plunged into you and as a response you exhale loudly and grip his bed sheets. He didn’t mind this sight. It’s like you were made for him. So tight. Perfect. He lifts you up effortlessly, still inside you as he explores your body, one hand grabbing your round boob. Quiet you were. Trained? Maybe.

…

A shiver crawls down your spine at the feeling of him groaning into your neck, along with the lukewarm splatter of seed on your back.

“I’d be horrible if I let you walk home this dark.”

If you were coherent, you would’ve protested. Too bad.

…

You wake up with an arm heavy on your chest, bare. Stupid. You thought, you had other clients soon. You gently remove the hand and get up, finding your under garments at different points of the room. Soon enough, your ruckus wakes him up.

“I didn’t take you for a snooper.”

“What did ya take me for?” I reply as I slip on the dress

“Will I see you again?”

…

Like you said before, one of your rules was no attached feelings. Another was no gangsters. It seemed you'd broken both. Or, at least, you were on the verge of it.

Your thoughts are blocked out as you hit your climax, your toes curling. Thomas Shelby sits before you, merely using his tongue and fingers to drive you insane.

…

"Cigarette?"

He offered, and you declined. He set the pack down along with a wad of cash, looking up at you expectantly.

You took the money and stuffed it into your pocket, a little unsettled by the question he asked next. It was a question clients rarely asked.

“How many this week?”

“Er. I only have 5 booked.”

“Day off?” He replies almost immediately, filling up two glasses of whiskey

“Saturday.”

“Let me take you out for dinner?”

You hesitate. “Business?”

“Sure.”

….

#thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x reader #cilleatandserve #cillian murphy #fanfiction #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x y/n

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crazylittlejester · 10 months ago

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I love to think that Hylia gives the oldest daughters in her bloodline her powers/blessings, and ONLY her oldest daughter

What I mean by this is: Imagine a queen has two daughters, one a year or two older than the other, and everything starts falling apart but the oldest daughter just DOESN’T have the Hylia given powers and she can’t unlock them no matter how hard she tries. But then the younger daughter tries just for the hell of it because they’re all so desperate, and it WORKS. And everyone is so confused, did Hylia make a mistake?? But then years later down the line the oldest ‘daughter’ comes out as trans and realizes Hylia didn’t give HIM powers because Hylia only gives it to her DAUGHTERS. He and his little sister laugh about it for ages, and he’s not mad at all that he’ll never get to rule the kingdom because he’s a man, he stands by his little sister’s side and defends her with his life (he’s that era’s Link)

On the flip side: Imagine a young Zelda, like nine years old, terrified because she can’t do this, she can’t go up against this great evil, nothing she’s doing is unlocking these powers no matter how hard she tries, and she runs to her older brother for comfort. The castle is attacked and he rushes to protect his little sister just for Hylia’s powers to flare to life and he realizes “Oh- Maybe I don’t just feel like a girl- Maybe I AM one?” and SHE saves Hyrule, and her little sister from the pressure the kingdom had been putting on her to use a power never given to her

and Lullaby/OOT Zelda’s powers only work SOMETIMES because they’re genderfluid and it’s irritating by very validating

Anyways I just think it’d be funny if Hylia was like “I know ur transgender” before they do and takes or gives magic accordingly alskdkdkdl. Hylia supports trans rights

im gonna write a fic about this one day and make my own link and zelda istg

#jes talks #jes rambles #linked universe #linkeduniverse #jes headcanons

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weasleyreidstyles · 1 year ago

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Serendipity; snippets of navigating fifth year with Fred Weasley

series masterlist

based on a request from ages ago. its a little choppy, but bare with me, ive just suffered the worst bout of writer's block ever😓 (i'm actually so sad that i've neglected serendipity so much but im back and i have so many wips to share with you all!!!!)

pairing(s): fred weasley x fem!reader, brief theodore nott x fem!reader (platonic)

Hogwarts doesn't feel the same anymore. The usual air of magic had been snuffed out with each imposing rule that was nailed to the Entrance Hall walls. There is no more laughter in the corridors, no more soft chatter from the figures inside the magical portraits; instead the repetitive notes of Professor Umbridge's sugary sweet tone rattle over deafening speakers.

All boys and girls must remain eight inches apart from eachother.

There will be no house fraternising during meal times.

Talk of any unauthorised groups will be met with adequate punishment.

Curfew must be met by every member of the student body.

That last one still haunts you in your peaceful moments.

It's the reason you sit on one of the uncomfortable plush seats in Professor Umbridge's office, a cursed black quill clenched in your harsh grip as you write out those very words, the familiar cursive of your own handwriting etching painfully into the skin of your non-dominant hand. She was smirking at you under the guise of sipping lengthily from her pink teacup, watching as the tears steadily building in your eyes finally spilled down over your cheeks, which were flushed red from the pain.

How had you found yourself in this predicament exactly?

You were made a prefect at the start of the year, alongside Hermione and Ron, which you'd found out when you got your letter detailing which books you would need for your fifth year. You remember the pride written across your parents' faces and how elated you had been to be given such a prestigious role, one that many Ravenclaw students in your year wanted just as badly as you. It was a revered spot after all. Everyone was elated for you, but none more so than the oldest Weasley twin.

"Are you going to give us unlimited leeway with pranks now that you hold such a position of authority, gorgeous?" Fred's husky voice joked in a whisper as the two of you sat at the dining table during the small party that Molly and your mother had set up in celebration for the three of you.

"Are you asking me to take advantage of my new position, Weasley?" You ask, a small smirk making its way on your face as you fight the blush threatening to paint your cheeks at his sudden closeness.

All summer, he had been flirting with you. At first you put it down to his lack of contact to the outside world and you laughed at his well-timed jokes and played into his flirtations with rebutting jokes of your own.

But then one night, when you flirted back daringly, he kissed you. He actually kissed you. It wasn't your first kiss. No, that went to Harry in a random game of truth or dare back in second year (something you both agreed was wrong on so many levels; it was never discussed by any of you again). But this kiss with Fred felt incredible and it cemented a closer bond with the older twin, whose brilliantly blue eyes sparkled with something more whenever he stared at you after that moment.

He'd rewarded your achievement later that same evening, after the party, behind the closed door of your temporary bedroom, leaving you smiling and giddy for the rest of summer. It's what prompted Ginny and Hermione's loose bet as to how long it would take for the pair of you to get together officially.

Your elation lasted until the very moment you stepped into the Prefects' Carriage and found out who you'd be partnered up with for the year.

Theodore Nott. Notorious for his aloof attitude as well as his surprising intellect that rivalled Hermione's. He was part of Riddle's group, one of the most popular groups in school, possibly trumping even the Golden Trio. But because he was part of Riddle's crew you had learned to hate him just a little – his teasing remarks towards your friends, especially Ron, always sent you into a spiral of brewing animosity.

So when Alicia Spinnet, who had been given the prestigious role of Head Girl, announced that she was pairing you with him, you cast her a look of utter betrayal, which she vehemently ignored.

You did not speak to Nott for the entire time you were meant to familiarise yourselves with eachother, and he made no effort either; grey eyes misted over as if he wasn't even part of the present conversation altogether. Gods how you despised him.

~∞~

Upon returning to your original compartment, following slowly behind Ron and Hermione, Fred had immediately seen your crestfallen look.

"What's up, gorgeous?" he asked from his seat by the window, ignoring Ron's faux gagging at the nickname. He'd also moved further into the corner to allow you the space to sit down.

You thanked him with a quiet smile before sitting down with a sigh.

"Alicia paired me with Nott for prefect rounds. How unfortunate is that?" You mumble, resting your head dejectedly against his burly shoulder.

"You're joking?!" He says with wide eyes. "What the hell was she thinking?"

"I assume it was because Davies paired Parkinson with your counterpart, so you got paired with Nott as a consequence." Hermione said from the opposite seat. "The Ravenclaws and Slytherins in sixth and seventh year were paired together as well."

Yes that was an overarching trend that had seemed to stick over the years.

"Maybe it won't be too bad." Ginny says and you all turn to her in synchronised disbelief. "What? I've never seen Nott speak. Maybe that'll be a good thing. A mute partner is better than a snarky one."

"Just the thought of being in his presence makes me uncomfortable. Mute or not." You say quietly, so only Fred can hear.

"If he does or says anything to you, let me know yeah?" He replied with equal secrecy and you nod your head imperceptibly in response.

He lets you use his shoulder as a makeshift pillow when you find your eyes closing drowsily, brushing the loose hair that falls into your face and ignoring George's knowing glances.

~∞~

The very first round of Prefect duties was utterly boring and painfully long. You and Nott had patrolled the Astronomy corridor with lacklustre precision, both eager to get away from eachother's presence.

It was like this for a while, a few months to be exact, until you both became accustomed to the silence, to the point where it was actually bareable. No longer were rounds a labourous activity; you and Nott began to partake in small talk, to the most minute extent – in no way did this make you aquainted and in the daylight, you returned to steely looks and barely contained snarls of discontent, which was mirrored by your friends, and his. You barely noticed the extra attention that Voldemort's son seemed to be giving you as your friendship with Theo progressed at a steadily growing pace.

At your budding friendship with the Slytherin Prefect, Fred began showing up at the end of your rounds to whisk you away, never sparing Theo a glance. The two of you would wander the desolate corridors, hands interlocked as you spoke quietly and unhurriedly. You noticed that Fred, always grinning and never unnecessarily angry, would grow agitated in Theo's presence and you never understood why.

Until one night, when Fred was loitering at the end of your last corridor to patrol, Theo had said something that made you burst into pearls of laughter; his face had lit up with a delighted smirk at the sound.

Fred's face was stoic and so unnaturally like his usual cadence that it took you completely by surprise.

"Of course you're waiting here, Weasley." Theo had mumbled, mostly to himself, but Fred had bristled from where he was leaning against the wall.

"You have a problem with that, Nott?" He had snarled and you'd looked at him with widened eyes at the edge in his voice.

Eager to defuse the tension, you took Fred's hand and gave Theo a look that read 'stop being an arsehole', before leading the ginger boy away.

Theo had gone back to his best friend to report that Mattheo's suspicions were indeed correct: you had been learning Legillimancy and had unknowingly spoken to Theo without so much as moving your lips.

And Fred had no idea.

~∞~

This routine continued for you and Fred, leaving you at the butt end of George and Lee's teasing. You came to expect him to be waiting at the end of your rounds, where you would part ways with Theo before spending at least an hour in Fred's presence.

On some occasions when it was far too cold to continue wandering the hallways at night, he would tell you to go straight to the Gryffindor common room, where there would be a fire in the hearth and plenty of blankets to snuggle into.

On such occasions, Theo offered to walk you there, despite him not wanting to be anywhere near the lions' den. It was during these times where your friendship with him became cemented as pure and real. Your friends were surprised when you actively sought eachother out during lessons.

Fred hated your budding friendship, but he said nothing about it; it wasn't his place to undermine your friendships.

But it became hard to hold his tongue when Professor Umbridge unveiled her new Inquisitorial Squad, which Theo and his friends had joined in quick succession.

The Inquisitorial Squad was a massive hindrance for Dumbledore's Army. The lot of you had to be more vigilant with your timings for the meet ups in the Room of Requirement, lest you get caught out by these glorified prefects. The Inquisitorial Squad is how you ended up in her office in the first place.

You had been patrolling with Theo, who was complaining about how frustrating having magicless lessons was becoming in the lead up to ypur OWL exams (you'd felt guilty about the DA not including any Slytherins all year, and this further cemented that feeling), when Adrian Pucey and Professor Umbridge came waltzing around the corner.

"Good evening Master Nott." the Professor says warmly, before her gaze sweeps over to you and her beady eyes catch onto the flashy Prefect badge pinned proudly tp your chest.

"Miss Meadow, why are you out past curfew?" She asks with faux concern, mouth twisting with a sadistic smirk.

"Uh-" You look at Theo, who looks just as startled as you. "We're just about to finish our rounds, Professor."

Umbridge lets out a heinous giggle that grates on your nerve.

"Oh my dear, didn't you see the newest decree?" She asks, her face alight with victory when you shake your head. "I have no need for Prefects anymore. I disproved them as a group."

"Wha- Why?" you ask, disbelief painted across your face. Pucey smirks as he looks from you to Theo.

"The Inquisitorial Squad has overtaken that job, Meadow." He spits your name like its dirt on the bottom of his shoe. You share a look of alarm with Theo.

I knew nothing of this Meadow, I promise you.

He looks sincere and you believe him, word for word.

"This sheer display of disobedience cannot go unpunished." Her harsh giggle is the only sound that fills the corridor.

She hands you a detention on a silver platter and you go into it blind. You didn't know that Harry had been trying to protect you, Ron and Hermione from the same fate as him.

~∞~

She dismissed you with a delighted giggle after an hour of writing the same line over and over again.

Curfew must be met by every member of the student body.

Your hand is throbbing from the pain, but all you feel is numb. You wander the hallways like a ghost, not bothering to pay mind to where you're walking, until you find yourself at the portrait of the Fat Lady leading to the Gryffindor common room.

"Password?!" Elizabeth says impatiently, as if she'd been repeating herself over and over.

"Gillyweed." You mumble and she finally takes in your appearance, completely forgetting to open the portrait hole.

"Oh my dear, are you alright?" She says, voice full of concern, and if she were able to, you're sure she'd reach a hand out and place it delicately onto your shoulder.

"'M fine, Elizabeth. Just need to sit down." You didn't realise how tired you were, but from the slurring of your words and the speed with which the portrait swings open, with no hesitation towards the blue and bronze tie donning your neck, you must be on the verge of collapsing.

Fred sees you first.

"Meadow? What are you doing here, gorgeous?" he asks, voice filled with concern.

"Don't know. But 'M really sleepy." You say and you grip at his arms with barely any strength, which he notes with wide, panicking eyes.

"Shit- okay, come on let's go upstairs."

He guides you slowly towards his dorm, ignoring his brothers and Hermione and Harry's looks of worry. He sees the blood dripping from your hand in the dim light of the room, which prompts him to usher you much faster.

He sits you on the marble of the ensuit bathroom, the cold of the tiles barely registers to you.

He's mumbling a series of healing charms against your hand, jaw clenching when the blood flow slows enough for him to see the culprit of your bloodlust.

"Did she do this to you?" He asks, his voice as low as a growl that has your thigh clenching at the tone.

"Technically," You start with a weak laugh, "I did this to myself. She told me what to write."

"It's not funny, gorgeous." He says with a frown that you manage to wipe away with a peck of your lips.

"It's fine, Freddie."

"No. It's not."

You can practically see the plans forming in his brain and the next day, a series of crazed birds are let loose in the Great Hall, all headed straight for the newly appointed Head Mistress, Fred's smirking face meeting her's with no hesitation.

His hand sports similar wounds to you by the end of the day and you patch him up in the same fashion that he did for you.

~∞~

You don't show up to your scheduled Prefect meetings for the rest of the year, and you avoid Theo in the corridors, much to your friends' delight.

His voice in your mind is the only point of contact that you have with your Italian friend, something you keep hidden from your friends, especially Fred.

You look sad, tesoro. He says from across the Great Hall, days after your first detention with Umbridge. You sit facing the Slytherin table beside Luna Lovegood, who looks between you, Fred and Theo imperceptibly.

I'm not sad. I'm bored.

Yes because I'm sure the Gryffindor table is just a delight to be seated at.

You scoff outwardly at his sarcasm.

"What're you scoffing about, gorgeous?" Fred's voice says from behind you. You sneak a look towards Theo, who seems to have engaged himself in a conversation with Riddle and Berkshire, not showing that he was just immersed in conversation with you mere seconds ago.

"Just thinking about all the ways I want to make Umbridge suffer." You say with an offhanded shrug. Luna giggles into the palm of her hand.

"I have plenty of ideas." He says with a smirk as he drags you from your seat and into the corridors beyond the Great Hall.

Professor Umbridge may have cast a cloud of sorrow over the magic of Hogwarts, but nothing could take away the fun you'd been having in the stolen moments with your best friend's brother.

Not even the fact that he was leaving prematurely. Certainly not after you convince yourself to share your growing feelings for him, to have that snuffed out by his secret declaration.

Your chance with him is taken from you as he and George sail away from Hogwarts with guffawing laughter at the sight of Umbridge's sour face. They're off to live their lifelong dream, taking your dreams with them.

The next time you see Fred is after you watch Sirius' body fall through the veil, mind and body too numb to process any and all of your feelings. You only reach out for Teddy in your mind, a comforting voice of reason for all you'd seen. Even the strangely beautiful sight of the thestrals, that were invisible only hours before, did not phase you.

You fell into Theo's comforting embrace the moment you were able to leave the Hospital Wing, Fred Weasley long forgotten at Ron's bedside.

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @benwadsworthsgf @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18

#serendipity series #fred weasley x reader #theo nott x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley angst #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott x reader

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kastalani123 · 1 year ago

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Hey hey hey, remember how Drew (and Lacy) was mentioned as going to the same school as Sadie in The Serpent's Shadow? So it's like. Implied the two of them are a similar age, especially since they clearly interact plenty, with Sadie knowing her full name and such? I dunno about you, but I never interacted much with kids out of my age range at school, so it's basically implied they're close in age — when Sadie is thirteen (Lacy being said to be a year younger than her).

So, like. What if Drew's. Younger than Piper, actually? By like. A year or so, so she'd be fourteen, rather than the popularly accepted 16/17. I know The Lost Hero tries to say the oldest demigod at the cabin automatically becomes counselor unless challenged by someone who's been on more quests, but Annabeth was counselor at twelve, so I call bullshit and accept the demigod-that's-been-at-camp-the-longest rule as the one automatically takes the role when needed (also, there's nothing saying fourteen wouldn't be the oldest in the cabin post-war, anyways). So Drew could easily not be the oldest in the cabin, and still have to deal with suddenly being head of her family, on top of her older sister being revealed as a traitor, the grief of losing several siblings and friends, and the PTSD that comes with being a soldier.

I just think that'd be very fun for her <3

(And then just. Imagine Piper realizing that maybe she's the oldest, and her younger siblings took part in a war (that was arguably worse than the Giant War Piper was a part of), and maybe that's why Drew's a bit too much of a bitch sometimes, rather than just Girly Girls being automatically evil.)

#pjo #rick riordan #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjoverse #pjo spoilers #drew tanaka #piper mclean #aphrodite cabin #uncle Rick give us better Aphrodite cabin rep challenge: impossible #cabin ten

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sirnotsircos · 5 months ago

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Monroe "Money" De Riva

dunno what is it but the Crow background in Dragon Age: Veilguard has got me obsessed with creating fandom content again so here's a little (too long) backstory for my sweet prince Money and how they meet Viago.

It's worth noting that Money uses They/Them pronouns however only discovered this in their later teens, for the purposes of gender exploration and a reasonable amount of self insert-ness going on here, Money is referred to with the pronouns assigned at birth in this first installment of self indulgent writing.

4.3 K words

Canon typical death and gore

themes of abductuion and trafficking discussed

Crows and Coin

All along the borders of the Tevinter Imperium, the bright dancing lights of the circus filled the dark nights of war time. For years a traveling band of performers moved from city to city, town to town, collecting cheers and coin, bringing smiles and laughter and whisking away worry. During the winters they would lug a big tent around, park near a town for weeks at a time and bid visitors welcome, and during the summer just a stage and clearing would do.

In the front wagons was the coin, the acrobats, the stage manager, in the middle wagons the provisions, the chests of contriband, stowaways, and in the rear the set, and the crew. Money, no older than six when she’d wandered into the tent during the circus’ brief stint in the Free Marshes, was never allowed anywhere near the middle wagons. They were always filled with crates, the extra plain looking ones with long sealed lids and too much hay, then there were the people she couldn’t talk to. Sometimes they were dressed in dark boring outfits that stood out only on account of the fact they were travleing with a circus, and other times they were garish and spoke loud with sing songy accents.

Either way, Money was to stay away.

Baron made sure all the kids’ stayed away in fact. There was “real honest work to be done” and work Money did. When Baron had first found Money she’d had no name and matted eggplant hair that needed shaving, there was a generally irritated grunt that meant her and that’s all she knew. She’d only been named Money after he found she had a pension for finding it and stowing it in her pockets or shoes and anywhere no one could find easily. A joke, Money would later learn to appreciate the morbidity of.

“Gon’ call you Money, you’ll never be without it,” Baron chuckled to himself, “but ye’ got to give me mine back.”

Baron was a big man, his real name wasn’t Baron, no one used their real name in the circus. He was a qunari with a wild mane of white-grey hair and horns he kept cleaved at the root and filed down. He wore hats at all times, the only time Money could remember seeing Baron without one was when it fell off in his sleep, if he slept at all. He had ashen skin but he bathed in red mud and kept covered so that he passed as an unusually large human. He was loud, his laugh louder, and his anger loudest.

It was Baron who’d petitioned for Money to stay, he’d been the keeper of most of the kids who resided with the circus infact. It had also been Baron who started Money on her words and letters, and Kelon, the eldest boy, on her numbers. It was Hymn, the second oldest who taught her to look sweet so she’d get in less trouble and Huin the second youngest who showed Money where Baron kept his best sweets. Although Money’s hands grew calouses in the six years she lived with the circus, she stayed for family and the coin was a happy coincidence.

At twelve Money was broad shouldered and kept her hair shaved to a shadow, it was a habit now and people stared less than the few times she’d let her curls grow out. Baron had always preached that the first rule of working for a circus is that you work for the circus, you are not the circus. Keep it simple. Money had no intention of performing or entertaining, she liked hanging out in the rafters and hauling the sand bags best. And so when she was too lazy to lather and shave her head she rubbed inked mud across her hair and wore hats like Baron. Keep it simple.

The first really cold night of the year, the circus crossed over into Antiva for the first time. Aslo, the ringmaster said it was warmer and he could delay the hassle of the big tent for longer but Money knew it had something to do with their guests. Since they’d joined the caravan at the outskirts of Minrathous they’d been making a pretty direct haul towards Antiva with less stops and shows than were typical for this area. Money knew better than to ask any questions, and in all honesty she wanted to see the Antivan Coast enough that she was glad for the pace with which they were moving.

As soon as they crossed the border Baron grew grim and tense and all together displeased. He led the caravan onto lesser traveled bumpy roads, the kind that made Money’s legs feel like jello when they’d finally stop for a rest. Four days into Antiva, they made camp no more than a kilomete outside of a town, the first place they’d set up a show since arriving in the country. It was warm enough for no tent as Aslo had guaranteed but the show was trimmed down so when it would get to it’s coldest everything would be packed away. This was also the first night their guests left their carriage since joining, they stretched their legs during dinner but kept to themselves.

Kelon said the woman looked like her name was Frivolousia with her long gown and incredibly intricate braids, and the man looked like a Craig with his poor form and rounded shoulders.

“I dont know,” Hymn, with her long golden hair and sprite-like features, stared after Frivolousia and her long red gown, “there’s nothing wrong with dressing for your station.”

“Hm?” Money looked over her shoulder and stared intently, that woman looked like a bloody blotch to her.

“You don’t ever think about wearing gowns like that?’ Hymn asked whistfully.

Money shrugged.

“If you had all the money in the world to buy whatever you wanted, what would you wear,” Hymn posed the question to all of them.

“First Warden Vestiges!” Huin puffed his chest out.

Kelon rolled his eyes, muttering something about clothes being the last on his list of things to buy if he had that kind of money.

Hymn turned to Money expectantly.

“Um-” Money chewed her cheek, “a cape?”

The books Baron would read to her always had people in capes on the front. “What's that fuzzy stuff called again?”

“Velvet?” Kelon raised his brow.

Money shrugged again.

For Money, shrugging either meant yes, no, maybe or sometimes possibly, I dont know. Money didn’t talk much. Luckily for her, the regular crew learned to understand what she meant most of the time.

“Okay so a velvet cape, a blighted tin can,” Hymn pointed to Money and Huin respectively, then to Kelon “and naked?”

Kelon huffed and began to defend himself, Huin spraying a mouthful of potatoes across the table. Hymn was equal parts proud of herself and vexed by the onslaught of starchy spray. It was a night like any other show night, they ate early and all together, the kids got shushed half-heartedly a handful of times despite the rest of the company being equally as raucous.

As night fell and the camp settled Baron took up his normal post of insomniac. He fed the caged animals extra rations he knew Aslo wouldn’t appreciate, checked the wagons, the tent stakes and the horses. All was just as it should be, as it always was. Except for a door, a carriage door. It was a middle carriage. The door hung open, not ten minutes ago when he’d passed it the first time, it was closed. He peered inside from ten feet away, darkness swallowed the interior. The only thing Baron could make out was the distinct gleam of thick liquid running in a thin trail off the step.

Money awoke with a start, the wind rattling the canvas wall of the tent next to her. She was a light sleeper, always had been. Once awake it was nearly impossible for her to fall asleep, especially with Kelon’s snoring. He sounded like a bear, gruff deep gargling snores swelled in his chest with every long breath. Money hugged her blanket close and stepped down into her boots, keeping the laces loose so she could slip them back off once she got to her destination.

There was one place she could always go when she needed to sleep, Baron’s wagon.

It wasn’t until she was nearly halfway to where Baron had parked his wagon that morning that Money felt the heavy silence that lay over the camp. There was no light, no stray lanterns or dimly glowing tents, not even the cats that somehow followed the caravan wherever they went were wandering about. The stillness felt oppressive. Money almost wanted to freeze in place feeling as though the silence was watching her, judging her for moving. The thought of being outside in the open any longer than she had to be overruled that instinct.

She scurried along, staying close to the sides of the tents and wagons. When Money reached Baron’s wagon she found the flap wasn’t tied down and someone had been rummaging around. Baron wasn’t a particularly organized man but he had piles and his piles had a method to them. These piles did not. Money noticed the chest he usually kept as the foundation for his stacks of books was open, the inside cleaned out.

A hand came down right infront of Money’s eyes and clapped down over her mouth, another wrapped around her shoulders tight. She howled. Money didn’t have a flight instinct, she’d never had that luxury before so she never took it now. Her hands were up and clawing in an instant, flesh raked off under her nails.

“Fu- Maker!” was Aslo’s hiss of pain.

In one sweep Aslo spun around, letting go of Money as he went. She sailed through the air for what felt like much farther than the six or so feet she did. She hit the ground hard, grass shredding beneath her as she skidded to a halt. In a second she was scrambling to her feet, Aslo was already launching his foot into her. Aslo was slow and not entirely prepared for most sorts of fights, however he was neary six and a half feet tall and his foot was heavy enough to throw Money back into the ground.

Then came the fire.

The sky was dark and starless, though any other stargazer that night in western Antiva would have had a clear view. Dark smoke had filled the air, billowing off the benches set around the perimeter of the stage. As Aslo’s foot made contact with Money’s chest the flames that had been eating away at the wood of the benches finally hit the black powder barrells used in the show’s pyrotechnics. Flame and combustion filled the air, wood splintered everywhere. Aslo stumbled back and winced away, his long gaunt face darting back and forth between the explosion and Baron’s wagon.

Money wheezed in a breath, the hit left her chest feeling empty and aching. The air was hot now, the cool crisp air of the evening gone with the flames. She pushed herself backward as Aslo looked away and rolled herself under the trailer next to Baron’s wagon. She came out the other side and scrambled to her feet, not wasting a moment’s breath looking backwards, she bolted. She ran away from Aslo, and away from the fire which lead her back towards her tent. As she ran, tent flaps were thrown open, people scrambling out.

Those who’d traveled with the circus for as long as Money remembered scrambled for water buckets with bare feet and sleep quaffed hair. Those who Money didn’t know, the new hired hands from Minrathous carried drawn blades and already laced boots. Baron always had laced boots. Shouting filled the camp, and soon followed the clear ringing of blades on blades. Money’s veins froze in her skin when she realized what she was hearing.

Everything was moving fast, too fast. The flames were roaring now, the sky swirling and everyone who rushed past Money was nothing but shadows.

A great big hand found her shoulder, and at first her breath caught in her chest and her fists balled. She pulled away hard and as she raised her fist she looked up into two familiar glassy grey eyes. Baron.

“Money,” he was panting, thick dark blood covering his front, “what are you doing out here?”

“You’re bleeding-” There was a lot of blood.

“I’m fine, Money you have to get inside-” Baron grunted as Aslo barrelled into him.

Aslo was younger than Baron, but Baron was bigger and a fighter through and through. It wouldn’t have even been a contest if Aslo hadn’t already skewered him through the ribs with a tent stake. Baron roared and swung a big fist in a wide berth, making contact with Aslo’s head. Aslo was nearly thrown to the side, if Baron had been at full strength Money had no doubt Aslo would be out cold.

Money held a shriek down, her throat pulled tight. The blood that had previously painted Baron’s front was now flooding with his own. It was darker and swelling so quickly Money couldn’t imagine it all coming from inside of him. She rushed forward. Her hands, small in comparison to Baron’s hulking frame, pressed down on the wound. Somehow it was to stop the bleeding — or maybe leaving the stake in there already did that — or should she be cleaning it or —-

Baron shoved Money away with his forearm, not hard enough to throw her off her feet but enough to get her out of the way as he rolled to his feet between her and Aslo. Before Aslo could even get to his feet a series of sharp thuds hit him, one in the neck, two in the chest. Three gleaming daggers. Aslo gasped and rattled, then sputtered and fell face first into the grass. Hissing. Choking. Then stillness.

Baron and Money turned in unison, the source of the daggers a young man, no older than his early twenties, in fighting leathers was perched atop a trailer. He was sporting a cloak, heavy and bearing the viasage of feathered wings.

“Crow,” Baron grunted, his chest heaving to take a single full breath. He was rattling.

The young man barely acknowledged them. Instead he turned his back and slid off his perch. He drew three more small throwing daggers and in the flash of an eye launched them towards what Money thought was object darkness. The thuds and groans that echoed after the singing of the blades begged to differ.

“Crow,” Baron called again, this time his voice was commanding, as if he had business that could not be ignored.

The young man turned to face Baron and looked him over thoughtfully, his styled moutache twitching with what Money could only guess was annoyance.

“Please,” Baron huffed, his big hand nudging Money, “there are children here…”

“They are not our marks,” the man said dryly, “they will not be touched.”

“Not good enough!” Baron shouted, a cough ripping through him and sending him onto one knee.

Money turned to him but he kept an arm out and held her at a distance.

“Money go,” he huffed.

‘No!” Money sobbed, hot tears welling in her eyes.

“Not with me, she’s not,” the man Baron called Crow scrunched his nose, “she’s a kid.”

“Exactly,” Baron was more ragged breaths that voice now, blood seeping into the fabric of his trousers.

The man stared at Baron, a strange look that Money didn’t bother to decipher crossed his features. He played at being stoic but he had yet to leave. Baron withdrew his hand from his back waistband. A roll, several layers of thin paper thick, of twine tied documents in his hand. “A contract,” he started, “for her safe delivery from this camp to a city.”

The man’s chin dipped sideways, his brow knit with peaked interest.

“The payment,” Baron thrust the papers forward past Money’s face, “Qunari battle plans, logistics, code phrases- you name it, it’s here.”

The man looked around, a cautious scan before jumping over the trailer and striding towards Money and Baron. He closed the distance quickly, he was agile and nimble and Money barely saw the grass beneath his feet shift. He snatched the papers from Baron’s hand and with a quick glance at the outermost document his eyes lit up. He looked over the roll and surveyed Baron carefully.

“Who were these meant for?” he asked, his eyes intense and probing.

“Highest bidder,” Baron gave a rueful grin, his eyes drooping, “Magisters passed — biases ‘n all that.”

Crow raised a brow and he looked Baron over again, a gloved hand reaching forward almost reluctantly. Money made to intercept what she thought was no doubt a blow, the man was a killer after all. He swatted her hand away like it was nothing and yanked Baron’s knit cap from his head.

“Ah,” Crow blinked, “we Crows are more open to… possibilities.”

He placed the cap on the ground and held out his hand. Baron stared for a moment, Money could tell he was losing lucidity. It took a deep steadying breath and a few good long blinks but Baron mustered the strength and focus to raise his hand, coated in his own blood and clasp it in Crow’s. They shook hands, both Baron and Crow grimaced. The moment they let go, Crow wiped his gloved hand on his leathers and stood, depositing the roll of papers into a pouch at his hip.

“Very well,” Crow nodded, “a Crow always fullfills his contract.”

In one swift movement Money was limp in his arms, braced against his chest and he was off into the dark tree line, a spattering of crows following him into the night.

***

The trees were dense and lucsious for this time of year, the sun barely poking through save in whispers of gold through the shifting leaves. Money felt heavy, like her body was an hourglass and all the sand had flowed to her back pinning her to the ground. This was a level of exhaustion she’d not felt since she was on the streets weighed down by hunger and illness. Only then the emptiness that gnawed at her was hunger, tangible pain born from neglect. This was different, so ravenous and crippling the bruising in her chest merely an inconvenience in comparison. Money had never lost anyone, before Baron and the circus she simply just didn’t have anyone.

She kept her eyes closed, the glowing greens and golds of nature untouched by her own cataclysm, mocking her. She wished she were melting into the plush earth below her, swallowed whole and forgotten.

“You can’t fool me, kid,” Crow’s melodic voice broke her solitude, “I know you’re awake.”

Crow. Rage boiled in Money’s gut, her muscles suddenly alive with vendetta. He’d started this, him and his contracts. Money had never taken to sharing Baron’s rage, she’d always had been hard to stir any great emotion in. The world was cruel whether you screamed about the injustice or not. And yet, she was on her feet, bare against the tangled vines and charging. The thought that Crow was a trained assassin and not so easily sundered as to fall to a child’s fit of grief, hadn’t crossed her mind until she was already sailing downwards. Crow had side stepped her charge with ease and pressed a guiding hand to the back of her neck, steering her left away from a still smouldering fire pit.

Dirt filled her mouth as she grunted on impact. Crow didn’t touch her after that, waiting patiently for her next move. In a series of clumsy movements Money rolled to her feet, dug into the earth and surged forward again. This time as Crow side stepped she reached out and latched onto a knife hoslter strapped to his thigh. She latched on and didn’t let go even when he parried her again, her momentum sending her spinning to the ground. Her weight on his leg was enough to pull him down too, the two kicking up dust and dirt.

He’s down. A small victory considering he was a trained assassin and she was a child.

“Alright, that enou-” Crow began to chastise when Money interrupted him with a solid fist.

She made hard contact with his nose. She’d never punched anyone before. It hurt. Crow’s eyes nearly buldged from his head and he growled in pain. In one smooth movement his arm threaded up between them and came down on the side of Money’s head sending her world into orbit. He planted a foot at her stomach and shoved her away from him.

“Mierda-” Crow huffed, his hand scooping up and amount of blood running down his face even Money was startled by, “-stupid fucking contract-”

He spat a glob of blood a little too close to Money for her liking.

“What is wrong with you?” He grunted rolling to his feet.

“You,” Money growled,the bruising in her chest was starting to feel much less like a mere inconvenience now.

“Why?!”

Money’s voice caught in her throat. Why? He’d technically killed Aslo. Why? Why did Aslo kill Baron in the first place? Why? Baron was the only good thing to happen to her. Why?

Money threw herself onto her side, her eyes blurring with hot tears. She made it to her knees before a deep sob came, the blurred silhouette of Crow swayed awkwardly before her.

“Why-” she breathed shakily, “whe were you there?”

“What?” Crow blinked.

“You ruined everything,” tears rolled down her cheeks, “why?”

“I’m a Crow I dont owe you-”

“WHY?!” She’d wanted to sound stronger, she’d wanted to be demanding like Baron had. Instead she found she was begging.

Crow hesitated, his bloodied hands awkwardly hovering above his hips and pockets. He settled with crossing them, tensing only a little as his blood spoiled his sleeves.

“We had a contract,” he spoke carefully, “the man I killed, he was in the contract.”

Money didn’t know what she was hoping for, what she thought knowing would do for her. She could have guessed that much, it still didn’t answer why.

As if reading her mind Crow sighed.

“What your father gave me-” Crow sounded less sure of himself now, “ in exchange for your life… the Qun reports are a very large bounty, one so large perhaps the Crows would be willing to dismiss a contract to obtain.”

Aslo was trying to save himself.

Blood boiled in Money’s veins. Crow had been the one to kill him and that fact was melting her from the inside out. She felt it consuming her, revenge.

“Don’t do that,” Crow stepped forward and nudged Money’s foot with his own, “he’s dead, he got what he deserved.”

Money was starting to feel exposed with how Crow seemed to be able to read her. She didn’t like being so known. She took a long, deep breath. The air of the forest was cool and smelled sweet. She stared ahead, keeping her eyes still and willing the tears to stop. She didn’t need him, not with her, not in her head, not as a bodyguard.

“Stop that,” Crow cleared his throat, “stop wallowing. That man was a slave trafficker, he smuggled nobels who deserved worse than death to safety all for a little gold. There were a lot more people than just you who deserved a pound of flesh, but they couldn’t. I could. The crows could. You didn’t even have to pay to see him gone.”

“Who was he?” Money looked up at Crow. No one used their real names in the circus.

“Marus Caldori, a slaver and real piece of work,” Crow scowled, the least neutral expression he’d had all day save after Money broke his nose, “he had many enemies throughout the Free Marshes.”

“And they paid you to kill him?” Money ground her teeth together, she imagined the other people who’d wanted him dead.

“They paid for the Crows to kill the Orlesian nobles you had traveling with you,” Crow looked away, “ but his name was mentioned in the contact.”

“Why then —you killed him?” Money frowned.

“I Kirkwall, while we followed their trail north I met he parent’s of a little boy and little girl who were taken in the night, sold into slavery in the Tevinter Imperium by one Mr. Marus Caldori.” Crow uncrossed his arms and looked over the drying blood. “Some contracts are more worth taking than others, but all contracts are necessary.”

Money imagined all the Aslo’s Crow had gotten the chance to kill, all the wrongs he’d gotten to right. Perhaps she was conflating his accomplishments, perhaps she was thinking better of him than he really was.

“Why’d you become a Crow?” Money looked up at him, annoyed now how much taller he was than her.

“W-what?” Crow’s facade faltered for no longer than a breath, “that’s… none of your business.”

“Revenge?” Money pried, Crow knew too much for it not to be, “did you get it?”

Crow was quiet for a moment, his lips pressed together in a firm line.

“Soon,” Crow conceded, “I’m working my way up.”

Money nodded, she thought hard about it, “I could be a crow.”

“You?” Crow laughed, an actual smile on his blood crusted lips, “ A crow?”

“I broke your nose,” Money grumbled.

“I let you,” Crow huffed.

“You didn’t let me!” Money pouted, “I got a good hit in!”

“Sure” Crow rolled his eyes, “and I certainly was not holding back at all against a child.”

“No need to be embarrassed,” Money shrugged, “so, uh, how does it work? Being a crow?”

Crow looked her over as if he was making a final judgment. His arms crossed again and for a moment he looked unsure.

“Well,” he held a hand out to Money who was less than enthused about taking the soiled glove, “for starters what’s your name?”

“Money,” she scrunched her nose as she took his hand.“De Riva,” Crow said in response, “you’re new house name. I’m Viago, your house Grandmaster. Don’t make me regret this… starting with your name, what the fuck is that?”

#dragonage #dragon age veilguard #dragon age rook #rook #rook de riva #antivan crows #viago de riva

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