#so if raven IS given a second chance it will have to be because she asks for it

[bestworstcase]

Okay so, one thing I will say about the possibility of Summer willingly working for Salem: I hope they don't just do it to make Raven look like a better mother than she actually is.

I have long been of the opinion that Yang disowning Raven and cutting her out of her life entirely will be CRITICAL to her developing into a healthy adult. Ever since we learned about Raven, her arc has been building up to the realization and acceptance of the fact that Summer Rose was her real mother all along, and that she shouldn't waste her life chasing the toxic relationship Raven offered.

Point is, if Summer has thrown her lot in with Salem, it needs to have been out of love for her daughters, an impulsive and foolish decision made to keep her babies safe.

The best part of the juxtaposition of Summer and Raven is how it turns the age-old "wicked stepmother" trope on its head by having the stepmother be loving and kind while the biological mother is cold and heartless.

(That, and Raven's arc concluding with her realizing that she can't use her Semblance anymore because she burned all her bridges and nobody wants her in their lives anymore, and being forced to live with that knowledge, would be the perfect comeuppance for how willing she's been to sacrifice all her loved ones, up to and including her own daughter, just to save herself. Especially if she's given multiple chances to redeem herself and screws up every chance until everyone's just too sick of her nonsense to give her a twenty-third chance she doesn't deserve.)

hm

so

as far as yang’s relationship to raven goes, i don’t get the impression that rwby as a narrative has any interest in resuscitating raven’s motherhood—i mean, she flat out admits that she wasn’t kind to yang when they met and later whispers “i’m sorry” right before taking off again, lmfao. but equally i’m not sure i would agree that complete estrangement is really the healthiest goal for yang; it’s a pendulum swing to the opposite side of the spectrum from where she started and i think restricts her ability to meaningfully process the complicated feelings she has about her mother. there is a very wide band of grey area between emotional dependency on a bad or absent parent and full no-contact estrangement and—speaking here from the perspective of being inside that middle zone—i think partial estrangement is usually the better option, except when the parent is actively and viciously abusive to the point that no form of contact is safe.

with a parent like raven—who is absent and unreliable, not abusive—there can a lot of emotional value in just accepting the relationship as a distant one with minimal contact. and with yang being someone whose biggest emotional problem is bottling up things that hurt her, i think full estrangement stands to harm more than it helps because it puts a solid barrier in front of her feelings toward her mother. even if in practice she never sees raven, leaving herself the option to do so will make it easier to air those feelings out.

i also do not think that anything raven has done demands narrative retribution versus the compassionate framing given to, say, cinder fall or salem; she’s a bandit who abandoned her kid and her cause because ozpin molded her into his spy while she was a teenager or in her early twenties and then she couldn’t cope with the horrors she discovered or the personal threats salem is implied to have made to her. as reasons for being a deadbeat mom go that is a… fairly understandable one, and i do not think there is anything uniquely or egregiously more awful about walking out on your family than other kinds of wrongdoing—and certainly in terms of material harm it isn’t even close to the worse thing raven “some people?? pillage defenseless villages and leave the survivors to the grimm?? to cope??” branwen has ever done in her life.

anyway to the actual point:

summer rose working for salem stands to be compelling in a lot of ways, but the one that appeals most to me is a scenario where she didn’t choose it for her daughters. what have we been told about summer? she was the best of the best. the living ideal of what a huntress should be and an amazing mom—and then she took off without telling anybody where she was going to confront salem by herself, which, reading between the lines? summer rose got put on a pedestal and subjected to such intense pressure that she burned out and attempted suicide by pointless heroic sacrifice—either because she actively wanted to die or because she believed she had a responsibility to throw her life away for the cause.

and then salem offered her a way out.

now—from salem’s insistence that ruby be kept alive, and from her reaction to yang identifying herself as summer’s other daughter—i think it’s fairly clear that, whatever the exact circumstances are, there IS a standing agreement that salem will avoid harming them to the extent possible. but my personal hope is that the decision to join salem was one summer made for herself, to save herself from being the Sacrificial Hero, because she could not live like that any longer. this would be congruent with rwby’s thematic stance on heroic selflessness and self-sacrifice as a corruptive force and introduce layers of emotional messiness that appeal to me, in that summer can love her daughters with everything she has and yet leave them behind because she herself has been driven to an emotional brink where if she doesn’t escape by joining salem she is going to get herself killed on purpose, and the betrayal experienced by her now grown-up children when they learn this is mediated by their own experience of the same pressures that pushed her to that point (and presumably by the revelation of salem’s actual plan being less “nihilistically torch the world” and more “lure the gods back to defeat them once and for all so that this can finally end”).

insofar as there is a comparison to draw between raven’s abandonment and summer’s it’s one that removes summer from her supermom pedestal and renders her in a more flawed—and thus more human—light. not the good mom who died and the bad mom who left but two mothers who chose to leave their children for similar reasons and will likely differ in how they handle the inevitable reunion. (if “red like roses pt ii” is anything to judge by, summer is desperate to give her daughters the kind of explanation and closure yang wanted and didn’t get from raven, and has little if any desire to make excuses. that’s where the true difference lies.)

and i think rwby is doing something more interesting here than simply flipping the wicked stepmother trope upside-down. why is the stepmother wicked? why is the mother good? how do cultural narratives about motherhood create these categories? summer rose is the good stepmother, but she is also the absent mother; she left ruby around the same age that raven left yang, but yang’s memories of summer as her own mother and the presumption of summer’s death give ruby a fundamentally different experience of not having a mother. and likewise a significant amount of yang’s abandonment trauma has less to do with raven than it does her father’s secrecy and refusal to talk to her about it, which allowed the pain and confusion to fester. it’s all wrapped up in the storytelling themes and the reality is that mothers are just people who cannot be neatly reduced to fit inside fairytale archetypes.

[theostrophywife]

azúcar.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader.

song inspiration: baby by madison beer.

author's note: benjamin being active on tiktok is dangerous for my health. i actually feel like i'm about to crawl on the ceiling from how badly i want this man. literally tweaking. anyways, enjoy 😊

There were a lot of quidditch related superstitions you were willing to put up with. 

Wearing the same socks during every match. Kissing your boyfriend good luck before every game. Even the rowdy common room parties that you and Mattheo often snuck out of to have a celebration of your own was a tradition you welcomed with open arms. 

But this was not one of them. 

“It’s absolutely absurd,” Pansy huffed, her sleek black hair grazing her chin as she tucked her legs underneath her on the velvet couch. “Blaise has lost his mind.” 

“Sounds like you’re the one losing it, Pans.” 

Pansy rolled her eyes. “You would too if your boyfriend suddenly announced a sex ban as part of some weird quidditch superstition.” 

Since the start of the season, the quidditch team had taken a few hits. Usually, the boys dominated the other houses, but they barely won against Hufflepuff and came to a draw against Ravenclaw during the last game. Ending in a tie was apparently the last straw because the day after the match, Blaise told Pansy that the team had taken a pact of celibacy. 

For some deranged reason, the boys believed that abstaining from sex for a week would help them secure a win for the rematch on Friday. For the next five days, they intended to sleep, breathe, and eat quidditch. Apparently, your feminine wiles would have to be set aside for the meantime. As if sex were the problem and not their constant drinking and partying, which probably contributed to their lack of focus as a whole. Not that the boys would listen to common sense at this point. 

You scoffed. “Please, Mattheo wouldn’t last a day without sex let alone a whole week.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Pansy said rather bitterly, picking at the cushion in her lap. “The lot of them are taking this entirely too seriously. Blaise won’t even allow himself to be in a room alone with me.”

”Well, Zabini has a surprising amount of self-control. Mattheo, on the other hand, is perpetually horny. There’s no way that he agreed to such a ridiculous pact.”

“Lucky you,” your best friend said with a long suffering sigh.

You nudged her knee with your foot and smiled mischievously. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m more than willing to help. Blaise may be disciplined, but he’s also just a man. What do you say we pop into the village? I think I saw a lace emerald lingerie set that had your name all over it.”

Pansy perked up at that. “I knew I came to the right person.”

Your best friend smiled as you hooked your arm through her elbow. “Of course you did. Now come on, let’s bring Zabini to his knees.” 

Sprawled out on Mattheo’s bed, you flicked through the pages of your novel and waited for your boyfriend to return from practice. The trip to Hogsmeade had been a complete success. Just as you suspected, the little set you glimpsed through the lingerie store window looked absolutely stunning on Pansy. Blaise didn’t stand a chance. 

As a matter of fact, you’d given the two of them privacy tonight. They were due for a study session at your shared dorm tonight, but you quietly slipped out in the midst of their heated argument about the Goblin Rebellion and happily skipped off to your boyfriend’s room. 

Given the late hour, Mattheo was due back any second now. As if summoning him from your thoughts alone, your boyfriend sauntered into the room, looking sweaty and sexy from running though drills all afternoon. Mattheo grinned the second he spotted you on his bed. 

“Hi, princesa,” he greeted, his voice low and husky. 

”Hi, Matty.” You propped yourself up on your elbows and smiled. “How was practice?” 

“Absolutely fucking brutal,” Mattheo grunted as he pulled off his shoes. “Theo clobbered the fuck out of me, but I suppose it’s better him than the Ravenclaws. Mark my words, we’re going to beat those twats come Friday.” 

“I don’t doubt it, babe.” You pushed off the mattress and scooted closer to him. 

Mattheo licked his lips as you neared, breath hitching as you brushed his damp curls off of his forehead. You smirked and leaned in for a kiss. At the last second, Mattheo turned sharply, causing the kiss to land on his cheek instead of his lips. 

“I’m all sweaty,” he explained. You quirked a brow. Sweat, dirt, and grime had never stopped the two of you before, but you brushed it off. He was probably just wound up about winning. Mattheo smiled apologetically and kissed your temple. “Let me shower first and then we can cuddle, okay?’ 

You made the mistake of looking into those big, brown eyes. Damn him and his chocolate eyed gaze. The twat knew it was your weakness. 

“Fine,” you said as you crawled underneath the covers. “But hurry up, I’m getting tired.” 

Ten minutes later, you were fully engrossed in your book again. Just as it reached a particularly steamy scene, the door swung open, revealing a half-naked Mattheo. The white towel wrapped precariously around his trim waist gave you a perfect view of his toned chest and ripped abs, beads of water clinging onto his glistening skin like rain drops. You bit your lip as he tugged on a clean pair of boxers over his legs, cocking your head to appreciate the curve of his arse before he slipped into his sweatpants. 

Unaware of your ogling, Mattheo climbed into bed and wrapped his arms around you. “What are you reading, mi amor?” 

“Nothing that can’t wait,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss your boyfriend.

This time, Mattheo gladly accepted the kiss. His lips slanted over yours, sighing softly as you melted into him. Your kisses were soft and sweet, punctuated by cute little pecks that had your boyfriend smiling against your mouth. You took the opportunity to slide your tongue against his, making Mattheo groan as his fingers slipped through your hair. 

“Damn, mami. You missed me that much?” 

You rolled your eyes at his cocky smirk while you climbed into his lap and straddled him. Mattheo gripped your hips, moaning as your lips latched onto his neck. His pretty brown eyes rolled back as you left a trail of kisses along the column of his throat. You raked your nails along his chest, dragging red lines down to his abs, and tracing his happy trail as he captured your lips once more. Mattheo let out a choked groan as you tugged at his waistband. To your surprise, he grabbed your wrist and blinked up at you. 

“Y/N…” Mattheo said breathlessly. “Maybe we should…maybe we should go to sleep.” His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he tried and failed to swallow his own words. 

You raised a brow and settled over his lap, squirming against his hard length as Mattheo bit his lip. “You want to go to sleep? Right now? While I’m on top of you and willing to do whatever you want?” 

Your boyfriend looked pained. Conflict was evident on his face. Without a word, Mattheo nodded. 

“Oh my god,” you blurted in disbelief. “You agreed to that stupid sex ban, didn’t you?”

Mattheo groaned. “Only for a week, love. We really need to win this match.” 

You scoffed. This was absolutely ridiculous. “I know you, Mattheo. You aren’t going to last a week.” 

“Hey! Have a little faith in me.” 

Rolling off of him, you crossed your arms against your chest. “First of all, you didn’t even ask me if I’d be okay with it.” 

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. With a shit-eating grin, Mattheo cocked his head at you. “It sounds to me like you’re the one who can’t last a week, princesa.” 

“Please,” you said with an eye roll. “I have my book boyfriends to keep me company. I can channel all my sexual energy into reading smut. You, on the other hand? You can’t even make it through class without dragging me into a broom closet.” 

Faster than you thought possible, Mattheo flipped you onto your back and pinned you to the mattress. A cocky smirk curved against his lips as he trailed them down your neck. “Oh?” he hummed, kissing the sweet spot just below your ear, his hand gripping the inside of your thigh, making you press your legs together to suppress the need. The bloody bastard. “But can your book boyfriends touch you like I can?” 

Channeling every ounce of self-control within you, a calm and unbothered expression clicked into place like a mask. You tugged at his curls, forcing him away from your neck. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about me, Matty. I’ll be just fine.” Mattheo released a choked groan when you palmed the front of his boxers. He twitched at your touch, his cock painfully hard. “Looks like you’re not doing too hot, though. Let me know if you need help. You know I’d be more than happy to give you relief, baby.” 

Mattheo cursed under his breath as his own plan backfired on him. Blood rushed down to his cock as you squeezed gently, making him harder and hornier than ever. You chuckled darkly as he grinded against your hand. With one last squeeze, you kissed his cheek and peeled yourself away from his bed. 

“You know where to find me, papi.”

He watched in disbelief as you gathered your things, cute little ass swaying farther and farther away from him as you hauled your bag over your shoulder. “You’re seriously leaving?” 

You smirked and waved at your boyfriend as you pulled the door open. “I have a hot date with my romance novel. Good luck with your pact, babe. You’ll need it.” 

Merlin, Mattheo was going out of his fucking mind. 

For Salazar’s sake, he was starting to get the shakes and it had only been two days since he last had sex. Granted, it felt like an eternity since you were more than determined to get your boyfriend to break. Could lack of sex actually drive a person to the brink of insanity? Mattheo was pretty convinced that the answer was yes as he gaped at the lacy red bra peeking out under your white blouse. 

Had your clothes shrunk in the wash? Mattheo could’ve sworn that your shirt hadn’t been that tight before. You were nearly bursting out of it and the view of your tits pressed together as you leaned across the table to steal a blueberry off of his plate made his mouth water and his dick hard. 

“Stay strong, Riddle,” Theo whispered beside him. “We’ve got this.” 

Never in his life had he wanted to throttle Theo more. The only thing Mattheo had at the moment was a painful fucking boner. Three more days. That’s all he had to endure before they called off this stupid sex pact. 

He could make it. Couldn’t he?

As he looked up at you sucking on a strawberry, Mattheo’s confident wavered. You were truly testing what very little self control that he possessed. You were right when you said that your boyfriend couldn’t last a single class without dragging you into an empty broom closet. You were just so pretty and sexy and hot and that was when you weren’t trying. 

Now that you were determined to tease the fuck out of him, Mattheo didn’t stand a chance. 

All day, you focused on making his life an absolute living hell. Perching on his lap, fixing his tie, smiling prettily while you brushed his curls back and left glossy kiss prints all over his cheeks. His hands were in permanent fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm so deeply that he wouldn’t be surprised to find himself bleeding. This was torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. 

The final straw came when the two of you were studying in the library later that night. Bouncing his leg, Mattheo forced himself to pay attention to the Ancient Runes textbook in front of him instead of ogling you from across the table. It wasn’t working though. Every few minutes, he caught himself glancing up at you. Your lips, your eyes, your hair. There was nothing sexual about you taking notes yet he was so turned on that he felt dizzy. 

Mattheo lowered his head, trying to keep cool. When he looked back up, you were no longer in your seat. Instead, you were reaching for a book on the shelves behind you. Whatever you were looking for was on the lowest shelves, so you bent down to retrieve it. When you did, your skirt rode up, revealing that you weren’t wearing any underwear. Mattheo hissed, scrambling to pull your skirt down. 

”What in Salazar’s name are you doing, Y/N?” Your boyfriend gripped your elbow, anger and frustration radiating off of him in waves. 

You blinked up at him, putting on an innocent smile. “Oh!” you exclaimed, placing a hand on Mattheo’s chest. “Did I forget to wear underwear? Silly me.” 

Your boyfriend groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something under his breath repeatedly. Breathing exercises. You bit back a smirk. 

On his third count to ten, Mattheo finally opened his eyes. Without a word, he gathered your belongings and hauled you out of the library. He didn’t speak until the two of you were back in the dungeons. 

“I’m going to study in my room,” Mattheo declared as he handed you your book bag. “You’ll study in yours.” 

You grinned. “Oh, Matty. We both know the only thing you’ll be studying is your cock in your hand.” Mattheo tensed as you traced a finger down his jawline. “What a shame. I’d be more than willing to put an end to your misery if you just admit that the pact is stupid.” 

For Salazar’s fucking sake. Mattheo was so close to calling this whole thing off. He wanted you. Screaming underneath him. Crying from pleasure. Moaning his name. But he couldn’t. He had to stay strong. 

Mattheo sighed and kissed your temple. “Good night, mi amor. I love you. Even though you’re determined to drive me fucking mental.” 

You smiled before pulling him in by his tie. Mattheo groaned as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, barely giving him a taste of what he wanted. “Love you too, Matty. Sleep tight. I hope you dream of me tonight.” 

With that, he watched you saunter off in the direction of your dorm, skipping through the common room without a care in the world. Mattheo stared up at the ceiling and counted to ten again. 

Friday could not come any fucking faster. 

You had to admit that you were impressed. Your boyfriend had miraculously survived an entire week without sex. 

Despite your best efforts to thwart the stupid pact, Mattheo stayed true to his word. A pretty impressive feat given the fact that you’d practically thrown everything you had into seducing him. Sitting on his lap, licking your lips while he talked, kissing that sweet spot below his jaw, wearing your clothes shorter and tighter than ever, and even sleeping in his favorite silk red set, which you knew was particularly hard for him if the erection pressed against your back all night was any indication. 

Still, Mattheo withstood all of your attempts. 

You would’ve been upset had it not been for the fact that Mattheo looked absolutely pained by the whole ordeal. This entire week, his fists were permanently clenched at his side, his jaw locking and unlocking with every suggestive comment you threw his way, his eyes flickering over your body, groaning in frustration as he tortured himself by looking at what he couldn’t have. 

It was amusing to watch your boyfriend twitch at your every move. As you predicted, you fared better than Mattheo had. After all, you had a wild imagination and a collection of toys to hold you over. That wasn’t to say that you weren’t needy and aching for him, but you had ways of coping. 

“I’m so fucking glad it’s Friday,” Pansy grumbled beside you as she took a swig from her flask. 

After the whole bring Zabini to his knees plan failed, she’d been crankier than ever. Neither one of you expected either of your boyfriends to even make it this far without caving at least once. 

“Me too, babe. As much as I’m rooting for our boys, I can’t wait for this bloody game to be over. Win or lose, I know the sex is going to be insane.” 

Your best friend smirked as she handed you the firewhisky. “I’ll cheers to that, babe.” 

Surprisingly, the tension and frustration helped the boys play better than ever. They were ruthless on the field. Theo and Enzo were vicious as they defended the goalposts, giving way for Blaise and Mattheo to chase after the opposing beaters, nearly taking some poor bloke’s head off with a bludger. You almost felt bad for the Ravenclaws. 

When Draco caught the snitch, you cheered loudly. You and Pansy screamed until your throat felt raw and hoarse by the time the game was officially called. The two of you swayed as you descended from the stands, slightly inebriated from your generous swigs, but you didn’t mind. The liquor kept you warm and served as preparation for a night of drinking and debauchery for the common room party. 

Blaise wasn’t at all surprised that you and Pansy pregamed. In fact, he took the flask and downed the rest before tugging his girlfriend towards the castle. 

“Have fun, you crazy kids!”

Zabini chuckled. “Oh, we will. By the way, your boyfriend’s waiting for you in the locker room.” 

With a conspiratorial wink, Blaise wished you good luck as Pansy grinned from ear to ear. You chuckled before making your way over to the locker room. The doors opened, revealing a very smug looking Theo. With a frown, you swatted the back of his head. 

“Ow!” The brunette exclaimed, rubbing his newly acquired injury. “What was that for?” 

“For encouraging my boyfriend to agree to this stupid sex ban.” You crossed your arms and glared at your friend. “I know it was your idea, Theodore.” 

“Hey! We won the game, didn’t we? So obviously, my idea was brilliant.” 

“It was just dumb luck,” you replied with a scoff. “Honestly, I didn’t think you guys would take it so seriously. Especially you. You’re even worse than Mattheo. Celibacy for a week must’ve been hell, huh?” 

Theo shifted his weight, looking abashed. You narrowed your eyes at him as you read the guilt in his body language. “You little weasel! You caved, didn’t you?” 

“There was this really hot Ravenclaw…” 

“With the opposing team, too? You’re shameless, Nott.” 

“Please don’t tell the guys.” He looked genuinely contrite as he pleaded with his eyes. “They’ll murder me if they knew that I couldn’t even stick to my own pact.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, but you owe me big time.” 

Theo smiled before leaning over to kiss your cheek. “You’re the best. I’d say see you at the party, but with how tense and insane your boyfriend has been, I probably won’t see you two for the next few days.” 

“I wonder who’s fault that is.” 

“The pact was my idea. Teasing him was yours. Honestly, he almost stabbed a fork through my hand because you bent over in front of him.” He smirked as he held the door open. “You’ve got that man on a tight leash.” 

You fought a smile. “Leave before I get the urge to hit you again.” Theo nodded, making his way out. “Oh, and congratulations on the win.” 

After a cheeky wink, Theo was gone. Leaving you to find your boyfriend on your own. When you rounded the corner, you could hear the sound of water running echoing off the tiled walls. You ventured farther in the stalls and found Mattheo standing underneath the scalding hot shower, tipping his head back against the spray. With a smile, you leaned against the wall and admired your boyfriend. Merlin, he really was beautiful. 

Mattheo was a sight to behold; biceps flexing, abs taut, and back muscles tense as he washed away the sweat and grime. Your gaze trailed down to his trim waist, licking your lips as your eyes snagged on his backside. The longing sigh you released gave you away. 

Water glistened on his skin as Mattheo looked over his shoulder, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed you. Your boyfriend didn’t bother covering himself as he sauntered over to you. His chocolate brown eyes roamed over your body, smiling softly when he saw that you were wearing one of his jerseys. Mattheo traced over his surname embroidered right above your heart. 

“The Riddle name looks good on you, mi amor,” he whispered huskily, backing you against the tile. “I can’t wait to make it official one day.” 

You hummed while you tangled a wet curl between your fingers. “Oh? That won’t be happening any time soon, Matty.” Mattheo frowned as you caressed his cheek. “Not with the way you’ve neglected me this week.” 

“Don’t be like that. You know it was hell for me, princesa.” 

“I know,” you said with a grin. “I’m just teasing you. In reality, I’m kind of impressed. You didn’t cave once even when I threw everything I had at you. You were so good, baby. You crushed those Ravenclaws too.” Mattheo groaned as you kissed his jaw, nipping at his sweet spot. “Maybe the pact wasn’t so stupid after all.” 

Your boyfriend groaned as he gripped your hips and pinned you against the wall. “Oh, I won’t be doing that shit again.” Mattheo rested his hand on the base of your throat, eyes black and filled with lust as he squeezed. “It was torture not to touch you.” 

When you spoke, your voice sounded husky and seductive thanks to his possessive hold. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed perfectly in control. So much so that maybe we should extend it another week. Abstinence really helps clear the mind, doesn’t it, baby?” 

Mattheo chuckled darkly. He knew you were baiting him. You weren’t used to not getting what you wanted in your relationship. Your boyfriend was well aware that he spoiled you rotten. You were going to make him work for it tonight, but he didn’t mind. In fact, the idea thrilled him. He wouldn’t have been dating you if he wasn’t up to the challenge. 

Without warning, Mattheo tugged you into the shower, making you squeal as the water soaked your clothes. He wasted no time before crashing his lips onto yours, claiming you in a starved and possessive way that had you gasping for breath. Your boyfriend was frantic as he hoisted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Mattheo sucked harshly at your flesh, his dark chuckle a seductive caress against your skin. You groaned as he grinded his cock against your clothed pussy, which was already throbbing and aching for him. “Brace yourself, sweetheart. We have a whole week to make up for and we’re not leaving here until you’re properly punished for teasing me like the little brat that you are.” 

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “Do your worst, baby.” 

“You’ll regret that, mami.” 

With a wicked grin, Mattheo slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. He hissed when he felt how soaked you were, practically dripping down his fingers as he eased one into your pussy. You bit down on your lip as the delicious pressure awakened a familiar heat in your core. 

“Not so brave now, are you?” Your boyfriend taunted as he slowly fingered you. After going without, you were embarrassed to find that a simple touch was enough to set your teeth on edge. “This is payback, baby. Wearing those tiny little shirts with your lace bra peeking out. Bending over in front of me knowing that you had no panties on. Grinding on my lap and making me so fucking hard that I almost sprained my wrist wanking off in the restroom like a madman.” 

“I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.” You rasped, groaning as Mattheo picked up the pace. “Not if this is what I get in return. I like when you’re rough, Matty. It makes me wet.” 

Your head lolled back as he added another finger, curving them inside of you and reaching that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. 

“Good,” Mattheo whispered as he nibbled at your earlobe. “Because I’m about to fuck you until you can’t walk.” 

The filthy words sent you over the edge. Mattheo flicked his thumb over your swollen clit and you clenched around his fingers. “I can feel you squeezing me, pretty girl. So fucking greedy, hm?” 

You let out a choked moan. Mattheo grabbed your wrist and slid your hand down his front. “Do you feel that, princesa? I’ve been hard as fuck for you all week. Are you gonna be a good girl and help me out?” 

“Yes,” you breathed out. “Let me take care of you, papi.” 

Mattheo twitched in your hand as you gripped him, tugging as he watched you with lust blown eyes. The intensity of his stare made butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“I thought about this while getting myself off this week. Your hands. Your eyes. Your voice.” 

“I thought about you, too,” you confessed. “But it doesn’t compare to the real thing. God, you’re fucking sexy.” You rubbed your thumb over his tip, rubbing his precum over his head. Mattheo whimpered against your neck. “I missed you whimpering for me.” 

“I don’t whimper,” Mattheo countered. 

You raised a brow and picked up the pace, working him until his eyes rolled back. Despite his denial, Mattheo whimpered even louder this time. 

“You’re playing dirty, baby.” 

“I thought you liked it dirty, Matty.” 

“I do,” he said with a smirk before curving his long fingers inside of you. You shuddered as he hit that sweet spot. “Now come on, pretty girl. Come with me.” 

You nodded, picking up the pace and groaning as Mattheo pulled you in for a sloppy kiss. He licked the roof of your mouth, shuddering as he bucked into your hand. You tugged at him, coaxing him to cum as he panted against your neck. 

“Fuck. Don’t stop, baby. I’m so fucking close.” 

“Me too, Matty,” you whimpered, grinding against his fingers to take more. 

The orgasm crackled over you like a lightning strike, singing your veins with heat as your boyfriend continued to fuck you with his fingers. Mattheo wasn’t satisfied with one orgasm. He coaxed another out of you, laughing as you greedily bucked against his hand, biting into his shoulder while the second wave hit. 

By the time your third orgasm rolled around, you genuinely felt as though you’d left your own body. Mattheo only relented when your eyes rolled back and your legs trembled, cries of his name falling sweetly from your lips. 

“Tú eres dulce como el azúcar.”

You opened your eyes slowly and found Mattheo lapping up your cum, swirling and sucking his fingers clean with a smirk. You’re sweet like sugar. Though the words were seemingly innocent, Mattheo was anything but. Your boyfriend knew exactly how much it turned you on when he spoke Spanish and he was definitely using it to his advantage.

“That was just the appetizer, baby. Got you all warmed up for my cock. Think you can take it, Y/N?” 

“I’ve been waiting all week,” you responded hoarsely. 

“It’s worth the wait,” Mattheo declared cockily as he flipped you over. He stripped you of your clothes, carelessly tossing them behind his shoulder while he positioned your hands on the tiled wall. You groaned as he bent you at an angle, smacking your ass before he lined up behind you. “I promise to fucking ruin you, mi pinche puta.” 

Anticipation coiled in your stomach as Mattheo sank in slowly. Both of you groaned as he slid all the way in, twitching as he stuffed you full. It was familiar yet new at the same time. It had always been a tight fit, but given your involuntary break, you could feel yourself struggling to adjust to his size once again. 

Mattheo gripped your hips, leaving bruises in his wake as he slid all the way out. You whined at the loss, but it wasn’t long before he thrusted all the way back in, knocking the air out of your lungs as he set a punishing pace. You braced yourself against the tile as he spread your legs further apart, allowing him to hit an even deeper angle. 

“Oh fuck, how do you always feel so good?” Mattheo grunted as his hips snapped against your ass, brutally burying himself inside of your pussy over and over again. “You were made for me, princesa. We’re perfect together.”

”Matty, baby, please…”

You keened as Mattheo tugged you by the hair, kissing you sloppily as he continued to ruin you. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples as he squeezed your flesh between his rough, calloused hands. Mattheo kneaded your breasts and used the momentum to drive deeper. His palm trailed down your torso, pressing against your stomach to feel himself moving with each thrust. 

Tears streaked your cheeks as your eyes rolled back. “Oh gods. Fuck me. Right there, baby. You fill me up so good. I love being full of you.” 

“Yeah?” Mattheo drawled as his hand crawled up your throat. “You like when I fuck you rough? Deep down, you just want to be treated like a slut. Don’t you, princess?” 

“I do,” you breathed, groaning as Mattheo squeezed your neck. “But I’m only a slut for you, Mattheo.” 

“Damn fucking right, baby.” He said proudly. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine.” 

You clenched, squeezing him so tightly that Mattheo felt like he might cum then and there. “So greedy. Milking me fucking dry. God, you’re perfect. Mi princesa, mi vida, mi amor.” Your boyfriend shuddered as you grinded against him, picking up the momentum as the two of you neared euphoria. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum—“

”Cum inside me, Matty. I want to feel you. I want all of it.” 

Mattheo cursed, his body seizing as he came with a loud cry. The sensation of him filling you to the brim, his hot cum dripping out of you and coating the inside of your thighs was enough to send you over the edge. You trembled as the orgasm hit you all at once and nearly passed out from the sheer force of it. 

Fortunately, strong arms wrapped around you before your legs could give out from underneath you. Mattheo pulled you against him, holding your trembling body as you came down from the high. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he cleaned you up. Your boyfriend took his time washing your body, taking great care when it came to your sensitive core. 

You smiled up at him as he lathered shampoo into your hair, letting you return the favor and sighing in satisfaction as you scratched his scalp. Mattheo grinned, flashing you a lovesick smile as you rinsed the product out of his hair. 

“I love you so fucking much,” he whispered softly. 

“I love you more,” you countered.

”Impossible.” 

After the two of you dried off, you leaned against the wall and allowed Mattheo to clothe you in his hoodie and sweats. He tied your shoes before giving you a sweet peck. 

“Ready, princesa?” 

You nodded and took his hand. Without the support of the solid wall, your legs wobbled as you struggled to walk. Mattheo caught you around the waist, a smirk tugging at his handsome face. 

“I warned you, Y/N.” He looked entirely too smug and satisfied for your liking. “Told you I’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.” 

Your boyfriend chuckled as you rolled your eyes. “Poor baby. Don’t worry, mi amor. Let your Matty take care of you, hm?” 

“I take it back. I kind of hate you right now, Mattheo.” 

You squealed as he picked you up bridal style. He didn’t even break a sweat as he carried you across the field. “No, you don’t. But you can fuck me like you do.” 

“Deal.”

[just-zy]

Cursed Bloodsucker

pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!

summary: A day of the week, you'd think curses and hexes was all on the same day, but surely it wasn't that bad.. You had a girlfriend, didn't you?

A/N: I feel good tonight, and I feel like I didn't do pretty shitty here..

Warnings!: ermmm....ooc wednesday probably..

Masterlist

Being a vampire had its perks, but everything seemed to be..a downside for a certain individual today, specifically, friday. One might say, 'Oh, but how bad can it be?', well...

"O–Ow, Jesus Christ, easy on the stitches Wednesday.."

"If you'd just listen to what I had told you, we wouldn't be in this predicament."

Waking up early wasn't a problem for the vampire, so instead of listening to Wednesday, she decided to sleep in, and look where that got the bloodsucker. Running off to her second period while trying to neat out her wrinkled vest. She couldn't see well really, having her satchel slinging on her shoulder for dear life, her sunglasses almost falling off before she got inside the classroom, what a sight to see.

Disheveled hair, wrinkled clothes, slipping satchel, she thought it couldn't get worse.

She might've jinxed that one, that for a moment she thought she was cursed for living on specific days.

Walking was supposedly calming for the vampire, but today just seemed to be a day you wanted to get over with.

"Okay, what's for lunch, ooh– gimme!"

"Y– Y/N! Stop—!"

She was determined to have a bite of whatever Enid was having for lunch, unknowingly, the utensil Enid decided to use for todays lunch was silvered utensils. Why did that school have silvered utensils anyway? Well, labels. They have labels.

She reacted instantly to the object, dropping the spoon, immediately. "Fucks sake! Wha–"

"That's silver!"

If only she didn't let her intrusive thoughts win for once, maybe then she'd live another day.

Another problem, a full moon was happening tonight, what a coincidence!

She felt too worn out to even go out and feed, but she just had to, didn't she.

That same night, she did quite have an interaction with a shifting wolf, then gets mauled. What are the chances, huh? Thankfully, Wednesday was there to save the day! Or night.

"I feel exhausted, thank goodness it's the weekend tomorrow..I don't always have the best luck on friday's I swear, I'm cursed."

"Perhaps it's because you think you are."

Wednesday tidies the kit and stitches on the vampires bed, making her way in the bathroom and began cleansing her hands filled with the blood of her girlfriend.

"No– I really do have bad lucks on fridays.. Remember that one time I had an essay due? And I accidentally poured coffee, everywhere. Then there was that time when I slipped on the stairs and nipped my fucking tooth, and had my lip busted. But, I guess– they weren't as bad.. Because I had a lovely, gorgeous girlfriend to help me recover from all of that.."

The raven sat next to the vampire, scrutinizing her lover. She had a light smirk plastered on her lips, she leaned forward, your lips mere inches away from touching. You waited, you always did. You closed your eyes, awaiting her plump crimson lips making contact with yours, but that didn't happen. Tonight was different, she felt like tormenting you. She had only pecked your cheek.

What. The. Fuck.

Bothered, you gazed at her as she began inspecting the stitches on your arm. "Stitches look horrendous on you, Cara Mia."

"You're just pure evil, like the devil, did you know that?" You grumbled, unhappy that she still hasn't given you the one thing that you were waiting for all day, considering she was out with Eugene the whole day.

"Some consider me as Lucifer's daughter, but that isn't new, no."

Her eyes looked rather, luminous under the moons emitting light, you were ready to do everything she'd order you to, even let her redo the perfect stitches she's done just so she could have all her attention back at you, while she enjoys at what she does best. Being your girlfriend.

You didn't dare disrespect her, or even trespass her boundaries and limitations. Never in your life would anything hurtful leave that mouth of yours, you love her too much to do so.

Your gaze didn't leave her still figure, if anything it made you more focused on her, and only her. Your fingertips grazing on her pale skin, feeling her burgundy lips on your finger, to your desperate bloodied lips.

Fridays in the morning were a no, but the night time was an exception.

______+______

A/N: Wednesday has my heart, but she's soo difficult to write for sometimes 💔 this is a makeup for the recent imagine 😌

[cyn-write]

“Hellfire, Dark Fire”

Prompt: Rollo has been eyeing you since your arrival, seeing you as the diamond amongst coals. At the Ball, he corners you into a dance, but your BF is not going to let this slide...

Pairings: F!reader x Trey, Cater, Ace, and Jack (Separate)

Warnings: Possessive behavior, suggestive, manipulation and obsessive (Rollo), established relationship, romantic, swearing (Ace)

Notes: This is part of a request from @justahufflepufftoday that I will answer with links to all the glomas series! Apologize for this taking so long, honestly some of these left me stumped and I had to mull it over for a while. That and life happened, but I am slowly working through the asks and am so thankful for everyone's patience! Thank you to everyone who has been keeping up with the series and supporting me! This is part of my Glorious Masquerade series! So if you want to read the other parts of this series staring different characters click the links below:

“She Blazes in Me Beyond All Control” - Azul, Idia, Malleus

“I Feel Her, I see Her” - Riddle, Deuce, Ruggie, Jamil

“Her Smoldering Eyes Still Scorch My Soul” - Rook, Epel, Silver, Sebek

“The Sun Caught in Her Raven Hair” - Leona, Floyd, Vil

“Heaven’s Light” - Rollo

"Who might you be miss?"

Y/n gave a kind smile and nodded her head in greeting "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you," she stayed next to Trein as she was there as his assistant.

"Yuu is our magicless perfect of Ramshackle. She will be working as my assistant throughout the trip," Trein added.

She felt Rollo's eyes scan her and, unlike his greetings to the rest, he held out a hand. Being polite, she offered her hand as well, and he lifted it to his lips, grazing her knuckles quickly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, y/n. I understand it must be difficult, being surrounded by mages every second of the day. I hope you get a chance to relax this trip."

Y/n blushed at the motion and bit her lower lip. All the while, she could feel her boyfriend glaring daggers at her and Rollo.

"I-I'll do my best..." Y/n replied.

Throughout the entire trip, Rollo seemed to gravitate towards y/n and used every excuse to isolate her from the group. They chatted about her difficulties at NRC and of the festival. Due to her being Trein's assistant and the constant reminders to behave, she and her boyfriend had little time together.

This all accumulated at the Masquerade. Rollo had given Y/n a proper dress for the occasion instead of the attire his counsel had chosen. The (color) fabric decadently adorned her figure and stunned the NRC boys with her beauty. But before her boyfriend could ask for a dance, Rollo stole y/n away. He whisked her to the dance floor, and they started chatting.

At this point, Y/N's boyfriend has had enough of the student council president, but what sends him over the edge is when he takes you to the balcony and dares suggest the worst:

"Y/n, stay here with me." Y/n turned quickly on her heels to look at Rollo in shock and confusion, "Those fools at NRC do not deserve your purity. You belong here. with me." He has her pinned against the balcony, "This is your sanctuary."

Y/n pushed Rollo away slightly and spoke up, "Thank you for the offer, but I have no intention of leaving NRC. It is difficult at times but I wouldn't have it any other way. Now if you excuse me, I want to go back to the ball."

Rollo grabbed y/n's wrist and pulled her against him. "It's because of him, isn't it? He has bewitched you!" He pinned her between the balcony wall and him. "Those fiends have enchanted you, but I will free you from those chains and show you salvation! No matter the cost!"

Trey was a patient man who was at this point, an expert at dealing with difficult people and situations, but this was a true test of his calm demeanor. He had followed Rollo and y/n from a distance when they left the ballroom and had been listening to the tense confession through the door. His heart was beating in his ears as he listened to Rollo confessing his love for HIS Sweetheart. The only reason he didn’t barge in then and there was due to the trust he had in Y/n to handle the situation. But when Rollo forced himself onto her after she declined, he had to do something.

“Y/n!” Trey called out as he pushed the balcony doors open. Rollo stepped back from y/n, making it seem as though nothing happened. Y/n looked shaken as she tried to separate herself from her captor, but Rollo blocked her with an arm.

“Clover, what are you doing away from the festivities?” Rollo’s asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Trey moved closer to the two, his grip teething around his magic pen.

“The Perfect and I came out for some fresh air. So many mages gathered together can be a bit suffocating.” He replied calmly.

“It can be,” Trey was only a few steps away. His features strained to remained relaxed, he wanted so badly to blow up like his dorm mates and cause a scene, but he did not. He instead put on a smile and kept his composure, “But, this is also a special evening, it’s not often that this many mages meet. Besides, it is a wonderful evening for us, right y/n?” He shifted his gaze to Y/n’s beautiful eyes. A plan had formed in his mind and it seemed to be perfect, “Don’t think I forgot our anniversary?”

Y/n’s eyes lit up and she smiled sweetly. “Trey, how could I forget,” She said and managed to make her way to Trey and enveloped her boyfriend in a hug of joy and relief.

Shock and disappointment flashed over Rollo’s face but was gone in an instant. He nodded to the happy couple and started to walk away, “congratulations… I hope you enjoy the ball. Y/n, please let me know if you ever reconsider.” Before he walked past fully, Trey placed a hand on Rollo’s arm and stopped the president.

“If you force yourself onto her again and I will make you regret ever throwing this ball.” Trey whispered. His eyes were no longer kind, but cruel. It was beyond the look he gave disrespectful underclassmen, this glare was reserved for anyone who dared hurt his sweetheart.

Rollo understood the glare and left with a shred of dignity.

Once he was gone. The stiffness left Trey’s body and he felt his sweetness melt into his arms like putty. Tears started to pool in her eyes all the fears hit her at once. But Trey knew what to do. He stayed there, holding her close, and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay. I got you…”

After whispering a string of sweet nothings to reassure her. Y/n looked up and said, “our anniversary isn’t until winter break silly…”

Trey and y/n chuckled a bit. Of everything she commented on that. Trey looked at the perfect’s beautiful eyes that complemented her stunning gown. “The anniversary of becoming official… today is the anniversary of me realizing how hopelessly I’m in love with you.”

The perfect’s smile grew and Trey couldn’t help himself but kiss her. The kiss was loving and passionate, the kind that could last a century.

The music started to swell and their names are being called by the other Heartsyble students. The kiss ends and Trey looks back. “I knew they would be coming sooner or later.”

“Well you did promise me a dance.” Y/n said and Trey smiled. He felt like a commoner before her, begging for a chance to dance with the princess.

“I did didn’t I.” He stepped back and removed his hat, extending a hand out to her. “Princess will you grace this humble baker with a dance?”

Cater was kicking himself. He knew that he had a social media problem, but he never thought it would result in him missing someone, much less their illustrious host, flirting with HIS girl. Cater had been documenting the trip on magicam and he was constantly taking pictures, clogging, editing, that he has been neglecting his perfect. This all came to fruition when he saw y/n enter the ballroom in the most stunning dress he had ever seen. She looked like a princess out of a storybook. He reached to get his phone out so he could post a picture of is beautiful partner, but as he did someone else approached her. Rollo. The host of this event stole y/n’s first dance and in that moment he realized how much he missed. Rollo and y/n were talking a laughing as they danced. Talking about everything they did over the trip. Cater felt his heart drop as he realized how much he missed through the screen. As he was trying to get the best angle on a photo, Rollo was romancing his lonely partner. At the end of the song, Cater was ready to apologize, but Rollo took y/n away from the ball room and the two disappeared. Cater searched the ballroom till he saw the two on the balcony. He was about to walk out when he realized what Rollo was doing.

“…stay here with me.” Cater’s heart dropped. He listened through the pain and part of him thought she might take it. But the other part of him believed in their love. When he saw her step away from him, his heart jumped, he knew his girl. But Rollo would not relent. Out of instinct he went to the camera on his phone and pressed record, a plan formed and he hopped it would be enough.

“…Cater didn’t put an enchantment on me! I love him and he loves me. No charms needed! Now GET OFF!”

“Diamond? He is your partner?” Rollo scoffed, “He seems to be more infatuated with his phone than you. He treated you so coldly. Not answering your questions, ignoring you in favor of those people only. I don’t think I saw him touch you once.” Cater’s heart panted. He wasn’t wrong. But it still hurt to hear. “None of them appreciate you. You have done so much for them and they brush you off.” He could see her resolve breaking, and Cater could feel his as well. Not everything they said was wrong, she has done so much and hardly gets the recognition. He watched as Rollo’s grip softened and she turned away. Rollo placed his hands on her shoulders, they were really close now. She was thinking, “My dear, you deserve so much better. A school that will nurture and enhance your talents, friends who will recognize and celebrate your skills,… and a partner who will look at you and not a screen. Why… if I was your partner, I would never be able to look at anything else but you… my flame…” he began to caress her cheek and cater was about ready to leave and give in, but his Jewel surprised him yet again.

She grabbed Rollo’s wrist and pushed him away. “You’re wrong. My friends do care about me. And Cater is the best partner I could ask for. He loves me for me and never asks me to be anyone else. He respects me and my boundaries. He sees me for me and I see him for who he is. Yes he has his problems, but we work on the together. He sees me as a person, not an infatuation or an object to be saved. He is twice the man you are so leave me alone. I need to go find him-“

As she started to move away, Rollo grabbed her again and took out his magic pen, “You really leave me with no choice then, my flame. I will show you salvation even if I have to force it upon you-“

“AND HERE FOLKS is what we call a pervert!” Cater took the signal to come out of hiding and acted like he was recording the whole thing. “Rollo Flamme, Student Council President of Nobel Bell College confessed to My girlfriend and when she said No! He tried to kidnap her. Total Yandere behavior if you ask me. The kinda stuff they throw you in prison for.” Cater’s arrival stunned Rollo and he let go of y/n for long enough for her to run to Cater. “Now Cay-cay followers. If I release this video, that means something has happened to me and y/n. And he is the culprit.” Cater ends the video and puts his phone down into his pocket. “If you lay a hand on either of us again. I will release that video and you will be ruined. But I am nice and respect that y/n doesn’t like to be on social media a lot. So this is your only chance. Leave and never speak to us again.” He stood tall and held y/n close in a Possessive manner.

Rollo was visibly shocked and took out his handkerchief, nodded to Y/n, and said, "There is no need for hostility... I hope you have a pleasant evening." And left the two.

After Rollo left, Cater melted into Y/n. He was shaking and kept whispering, "I'm sorry.. I'm sorry, I am so sorry..."

Y/n tightened their grip and said, "Cater, why are you apologizing? You saved me, I-"

"Rollo was right. I-I was so focused on Magicam that I neglected you." He was nestled into her hair as he spoke, "I know I have a problem, but I didn't think it was this bad..."

Y/n stepped back and smiled at Cater, wiping the tears from his cheek. "Cater. I do not blame you. Do I wish we could have spent more time together this trip, yes, but I also know that my duties as an assistant had me moving everywhere and your group also kept you busy." She then stepped close and pressed her forehead to his, "We still have tonight to make it up."

This is the reason he loved y/n, she grounded him and made him see the light at the end of the tunnel. "We do. So here." He handed her his phone to put in her dress pocket. "No phones, no magicam, just us." He then knelt down before y/n and held her hands in his, mirroring the knights of old. "Y/n, will you be mine and mine only tonight?"

“LET HER GO!” Ace yelled. He had been watching the scene from behind the balcony door, and it took all his willpower to not attack Rollo on sight. Instead, he marched towards the two and pulled y/n away from him. He held her close and felt how much she was trembling. He glared daggers at Rollo and said, “She said no to your salvation bullshit so drop it.”

Rollo returned the glare, but returned to his calm composure, "Mr. Trappola, I'm afraid you have misread the situation. Miss L/n and I were just sharing a conversation, weren't we my dear?"

Y/n looked terrified as Rollo grinned at her. Her trembling grew worse and her voice came out meek, "t-that's one name for it..."

Ace hated seeing her like this. The last time she was this terrified was during Riddle's overblot when she was nearly squished by a rosebush. Since then, Ace promised to keep her safe, and that was a promise he intended to keep. "Sounded less like a conversation and more like a lecture."

"I was simply pointing out how Miss L/n would be happier here. We would actually appreciate her contributions to the school rather than push her aside." Rollo smirked and motioned to Ace, "That seems to be your specialty Trappola, wouldn't you say?"

That is when Ace's restraint broke. Much like when Riddle insulted y/n all those months ago, Ace punched Rollo square in the nose. While Rollo reeled from the punch, Ace grabbed his collar and pushed him against the railing. "You. Don't. Know. ANYTHING! No one loves Y/N more than me! She does more for NRC than any of the housewardens and EVERYONE knows it! We don't thank her as much as we should. But I am sure of one thing: I will protect her no matter what and stay beside her no matter what. Your righteous ass could never do that!!"

He let Rollo go and took y/n's hand. "If you talk down to her like that ever again. I promise you'll get more than a broken nose." and stormed off the balcony with the Perfect in tow.

Once they made it to the other side of the doors, out of sight from the crowd, and from Rollo. Ace stopped and turned back to y/n.

She looked up at him with awe in her (e/c) eyes. Despite the tear streaks and bruises on her wrist from Rollo's grip, she looked as beautiful as the moment she walked in. Ace whipped the tear streaks from her cheeks and asked, "You okay?"

She placed her hand on his and said simply, "You said you loved me..."

Ace's face went red. They hadn't said that word yet despite the feelings being there. "Y-yeah, I guess. I-I was just caught up in the moment and I-I...." He felt like Deuce, tripping over his words like a cat had hold of his tongue.

Y/n smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to his stuttering lips, "I love you too, my Jack of Hearts."

She knew those words would boost his ego. Whose wouldn't when they were compared to the bravest knight in all of the Queendom?

Ace's smirk returned and he leaned in so their foreheads were touching. "Is that any way to thank your hero, m'lady?"

He then properly kissed her. Deeply and Passionately. He held her close as the kiss deepened. One hand cradled the back of her neck while the other pressed against the lower part of her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he felt like one of those fairytale heroes, finally getting true loves kiss.

When they finally parted to breathe, the couple heard the faint calls of the other first years.

"Sounds like we're needed," Y/n said softly. The music started up again on a new song and Ace got an idea.

"Well, you still owe me a dance." He removed his hat, placed it on his chest, and kneeled before y/n. He still held one of her hands and smiled, "Y/n, would you spare a dance with your Loyal Card Soldier?"

“Let. Go.” Jack had an iron grip on Rollo’s shoulder. Wolves were protective by nature, and no one messed with their mates.

Jack had been watching the scene through a crack in the door. He trusted his girlfriend to stand up for herself, but what Rollo was doing crossed a line. Rollo turned his head to see the seething wolf glaring at him.

Rollo loosened his grip on y/n's wrist enough for her to slip away from the monster and into Jack's arms. Once he felt her in his embrace, Jack let Rollo's shoulder go and turned to Y/n.

He cupped her cheek and looked her over once. She was trembling and her one wrist was bruised, but other than that she seemed fine. After assessing her for damage, he kissed her forehead and said softly, "It's okay, I've got you."

He turned back to Rollo, who was watching the two, and snarled. He grabbed his robe and growled, "You try to threaten her again, and I'll make you wish the fires burned you to bits."

Rollo just looked stunned. This Freshman dared to threaten him. But Rollo knew better than to start a physical altercation with Howl. "No need for force. I get the message." He kept his poker face, stepped back, straightened his robes, and walked towards the door.

"Enjoy the Ball, L/n," He said "And remember, Nobel Bell's doors are always open if you need them." before exiting the balcony doors.

Now alone under the sparking stars of the City of Flowers, Jack turned back to his princess and wrapped her in his embrace. Now it was his turn to tremble.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, "I should've seen this coming and stopped it."

Y/n leaned back and put a hand on Jack's cheek. "You have nothing to apologize for." She put her forehead on his and smiled, "You saved me from Rollo. I should be thanking you."

Jack sighed and cupped her face, "Still, I haven't been as attentive as I should have. If I was he wouldn't 'have gone this far if I stayed close to you, or was more affectionate. He would've known to back off."

She put her hands on top of his and nuzzled into their warmth, "Sweetie, I don't think that would have changed anything... But if you would feel better about this if we were more public with our relationship and affection, I'm happy to do so." She kissed his palm and saw his tail begin to wag from the corner of her eye. "Just, please don't blame yourself for this."

Jack's concerns seemed to melt away as she spoke. She could always read his mind and it always amazed him. "Anything for you Princess."

He always felt like the Beast from the Shaftland Tale when he was with her. She seemed to make him a better person, just through proximity. The music began to swell in the ballroom and his ears perked.

He looked at her beautiful gown and thought of something Vil told him once after he found out y/n and Jack were dating, "Flowers are meant to be seen, not hidden away."

Jack finally understood what Vil meant by that.

Jack stepped back from Y/n's embrace and bowed before her. He took her hand and kissed the back of it, "Care to Dance, Princess?"

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

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more characters in this scenario or these characters in different scenarios, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

[bokettochild]

Little Soldier Boy, Come Marching Home

I apparently had some Uncle Aflon brainrot (could y'all tell?) and it spawned this monster!

Not sure if I'm actually going to make a story about this, I mean a proper one, but this refused to let my brain rest until I wrote at least this much, so I figured I'd share it for the folks who kept sending me Aflon asks :)

(Yes I am very aware that the title is from a song, I'd recommend listening to the Reinaeiry cover on YouTube, because it's also rotted my brain since I listened to it and I think it suits Aflon and Legend quite well T-T)

-

  The first time he held Link, it was standing on the edge of the wood, away from the eyes of all the kingdom and under a veil of darkness. The forest chattered and whispered behind him, bringing to mind whispers of thieving Kolkiri and fae, and it had made him hold the babe in his arms all the tighter. 

  His sister-in-law was watching him closely, hands hovering, wary, like she didn’t trust him to hold the child quite right, ready every second to take the positively tiny bundle back from him and tuck that red and fitful face back against her own breast, hushing and cooing softly herself as she’d been when he’d arrived there. She didn’t though, although whether that was due to his own skill or some sort of restraint from the woman, he wasn’t certain. 

  “What’s the little ‘us name then?” He’d asked, pushing down the swaddling of rough fabric, far too rough for so small a thing, but lined carefully with far finer where no eyes could see. The child within trembled, cold air drawing a wavering wail from a tiny mouth. There wasn’t much to see anyways, he was a baby, same as anyone had ever had. Far smaller than Aflon had ever seen before though; so small he almost could hold him in one hand alone, but by all other means the tiny creature wasn’t much to look at. 

  Despite that though, Loretta’s dark gaze hadn’t lifted once from the infant, usually stern features awash with pure adoration as one trailing hand lifted the blanket back up to shield the babe once more. “Link.” 

  “Like the hero?” The dead one? 

  “Like the star,” her hands lingered so close to the face of her child, and in answer, the tiny one stilled, quieting as though some spell was laid over him. “Like the boy who brought hope to dark countries when Hyrule was at her worst.” 

  “Sir Raven’s squire.” 

  She’d nodded. “The same.” 

  And the child was just, well, a child; a tiny wee thing that felt so fragile to hands accustomed to the sword, and Aflon had shaken his head with a sigh, turning to Loretta with the question that had plagued him since he’d been given his riding orders this morning with the command to meet her here. “Why me?” 

  Those had been the words to make her draw back, pain welling up behind dark violet eyes that avoided his own. “There’s no one else I can ask.” 

  “He’s your son.” 

  “Which is the same as a sentence of death,” she’d hissed, tone harsh as her blade, “you know as well as I how Hyrule sees its crown. You took a vow the same as any other knight.” 

  He had. 

  “That child,” her child, “stands no chance, no matter what I do, if I keep him with me.” 

  Aflon had shifted, sparing the bundle in his arms a glance one more before murmuring, “his chances are pretty slim regardless, ‘Etta. Babes this small-” 

  “I know,” She’d run a finger along a tiny cheek, face pinching into something bordering on gentle, on sweet, something no one would describe the woman as save with her steads, “But it’s the best I can give him.” 

  He’d felt the weight of those words, the weight of their expectation, and all the more so when the Queen of all Hyrule had lifted violet eyes to hold his own and given him her final command. “Protect him, Aflon. He’s not just your prince, he’s your nephew, and I swear on hell’s ashes if you fail him, I will flay you.” Typically, he’d have assumed her words to be in jest, but the fire behind her eyes, a furious and dangerous love the likes of which he’s only heard tell of a mother for her babe, had made him take the words to heart. 

  “I won’t fail you, your grace.” 

  “No,” she’d stepped closer, pulled his arms down just a bit further so she could duck her head and press a kiss to a tiny cheek, “don’t fail him. All else doesn’t matter-” 

 “The princess-” 

 “I will mind the princess,” Loretta’s eyes had darkened, “and failing that, the Impa sent is a good one. Your priority is him,” and both of them had turned to the child, a child so tiny he almost weighed nothing, but yet lay so heavy in his arms with duty set beside him. “He needs you.” 

  And he did. He hadn’t seen it then, hadn’t felt it, but even a man made in blood and battle knows the worth of life. And so, somehow, he’d managed. 

  He’d carried his little charge back to the closest village and taken a room, managing to ignore the curious and lingering gazes of the locals at a young knight in full armor with a tiny baby in his arms.  

  In truth, he hadn’t been sure where to go from there. Loretta had entrusted him with her child, which meant all other missions, whatever they might be, were out of the question. His duty as a knight, as a soldier, was now changed, which, all considered, wasn’t the worst fate in the world. Still, he’d mused, staring at the tiny creature that slept more than he stirred, it’s not exactly the life he’d imagined for himself. 

  They’d always been knights, or so his own father had taught himself and his brother. The men in their family take up the sword and the women the plow and reigns of a rancher. Their older sister already is married with her own farm, and goodness knows Banzetta himself, though king consort, still carries his blade as the second in command to their warrior queen. For himself, Aflon has never imagined anything else than to serve as his forefathers, perhaps to marry, although there’s no woman who’s caught his eye as of yet, or at least none he’d be keen to stay beside for all his life. He can’t continue traveling Hyrule though, not with a tiny child in his care, not when the world out there is still so dangerous and dark. 

  For days, he’d stayed at the inn. He’d had no direction or clue, but he’d done his best to mind the tiny princeling in his care, although his attempts must have been very poorly indeed because it wasn’t long at all before two of the local village women had been knocking down his door and scolding him left right and sideways. 

  Without the women of Kakariko, Aflon could say for a certainty that neither he nor Link would have made it through that winter. They had though. The ladies of Kakariko nursed his precious nephew alongside their own children, taught himself how to change and clean a child, how to swaddle them up tight against the cold, how to burp and soothe them. He’d listened with care, listened like they were marching orders from a commanding officer, and he’d taken them all to heart, employing every bit of skill imparted to best fulfill his duty to the child in his care. 

  Thankful as he was for those women, the many mothers of Kakariko, young and old both, there was still, despite their care, a fear that gripped him each time one of them took up Link in their arms. The babe was a prince of Hyrule, and were that known it would be easy to stage some incident to see that the bad omen that was a royal son was no more. The women of the village would laugh, saying that anxiety for a child was normal, but they had no conception how deeply his fear ran each time one of them held the boy, each time he had to turn his back on his helpless charge for even the smallest of moments. 

  Come spring, he’d settled, bought a piece of land with the money he’d saved over the years and made a home for himself. As it happened, an old orchard had been up for sale, just close enough to the village to keep in touch with those who’d shown them kindness, but with enough distance that he no longer felt the need to be on the defense at all times against neighbors who might seek to harm the boy in his care. 

  They’d asked, some of the village folk, if the baby was his. For lack of a better response, he’d said Link was his brother’s. No one questioned it. Why would they? He was a stranger to them, and though chatter would sound on street corners wondering what had happened to lead him, ‘a clueless young man who hasn’t the faintest on how to mind a babe’ to have care of Link, but they’d never asked him anything more, just gone on offering advice. 

  That was fine though. That was better than them all assuming he was the father, because it felt wrong to allow such a misconception. He couldn’t say why, but when a parent still lives and wants their child, there’s no right for another to claim them as their own. Besides, he couldn’t be a father. 

  As it was, some days he felt he was doing a terrible job of being an uncle. 

  And he hadn’t thought of himself as such at first, but somewhere amid long nights sitting up, just watching labored breaths from a body almost too frail to take them, somewhere amid whispered words with doctors who’d told him to let go already, with midwives who’d urged him to keep fighting as long as his little one did, somewhere along the line of spending every day forever in the presence of the child, there’d come a day when he’d stopped worrying about his charge, and where he’d started fretting about his nephew. 

  Maybe it was those moments of clarity and wakefulness when big bright eyes would stay up at him, so curious. When floppy little ears would follow the sounds of his voice, or tiny hands would cling fast to an offered finger, toothless jaws working at its tip with little coos and warbles. He couldn’t say. But somewhere in that first winter he’d gone from a knight with a charge to an uncle with a nephew, and he’d never wanted to go back. 

  Sure, it was hard some days. Link was a sickly baby from the start, and he grew slowly. He was bright though, so very bright, like a star as his mother had said, and with every passing day those eyes so like the queen’s own had filled up with their own constellations of joy and smiles, tiny hands clapping, little feet stumbling.  

  Despite all concerns and doubts, his little Link beat the odds. 

  The child was his sunshine. He’d never been a very social man, so the company of a single boy wasn’t bad at all in his opinion. Granted, with just the two of them it had raised concerns when Link hadn’t learned to speak when he should, and for a time he’d wondered if perhaps it was for a lack of him having used words enough for the little one to know them, but in time he’d accepted that words weren’t to be had, and while some village folk would murmur that a changeling might have been traded for his precious bundle, stolen by jealous kolkiri in vengeance for their own lost little one, he’d never minded too much. He’d learned to speak with his hands from the village elder, and so Link had as well, and by that means they’d gotten along quite well until the wee one had made up his mind to try for actual sounds. 

  His old friends from the army were company at times, stopping in between missions and runs, catching a drink or a place to stay. He used to worry about exposing Link to the life he’d known among them, but in front of the child they’d all minded well, many even offering help and kindness he’d never dare to ask for. Some had children of their own, they said, others younger siblings. Regardless of the reason though, not a man would enter his home as didn’t have a kind word for his nephew, and while worry still brewed up within to see Loretta’s child among men sworn to prevent his existence, not a one had ever guessed at the truth. 

  And then everything had changed when Link turned eight. 

  He’d been talking by then. Belated though it was, words would come to him at times, although he’d prefer his hands over his tongue. Despite the murmurs of locals though, the boy was bright, sitting up more often than not with whatever book Aflon could find for him and positively devouring anything inside of them, big violet eyes near glittering in delight at the world painted for his eager mind, at the discoveries and worlds and words and stories- heavens did his little star love the stories! He had ever so much to say about what he read, and a smile brighter than the sun itself, and small though he still was, weak though he’d likely always be, Aflon adored the boy that ran to his arms at every day’s end and shared home and heart with him. 

  He’d had doubts, in the beginning, that he could settle to a quiet life, but it never felt quiet with Link so eagerly learning about it beside him, indeed, it felt like he’d only just learned what it was to be alive for himself! 

  And every day was a new adventure, teaching his nephew something new or finding himself taught some lesson or fact. Every night was settling down before the fire and holding firm against the plea of “one more page!” before smothering his precious Link in mustachioed kisses and tucking him in tight against the chill of the night. Sometimes they were disturbed with guests and his efforts would be in vain, but nine times out of ten when that did happen, Captain Bertram or Major Wilkins would take the lad back to bed and recount enough stories to finally have him dozing off against them, ready to be tucked back in again upon their departure. 

  He wouldn’t have changed that life for the world though. 

  Yet, the world seemed to have other plans. 

  Link had startled awake in the middle of a storm one night, tearfully insisting that something was wrong, that there was danger, that Zelda, the sister he didn’t know was his even then, was in danger and that she’d told him so herself.  

  To another man, it might have been nothing, just a bad dream, but Aflon had himself woken before to the sound of startled cries sounding through an army camp. He could remember when the queen would awake from a vision while traveling with himself and his brother, and many a time, Banzetta had recounted to him when it happened that he hadn’t seen. It was in their blood, the people of Hyrule would say, that those of the royal line would sometimes be given visions, often of future events and or trouble brewing beyond even the eyes of the Sheikah. That was how all the prophecies surrounding his own family had come about, how the reappearance of a hero had been foretold. 

  So, upon hearing such strange words from the mouth of his nephew, rather than beg him return to bed or otherwise ignore it, Aflon had taken it to heart. After all, he’d been reminded, looking down at the tear-stained face at his bedside, Link may be his nephew, but he was also still Loretta’s son; still born with the blood of the crown, a prince of Hyrule. 

   So, although Loretta had told him to leave Zelda’s care to herself long ago, back when she and Banzetta were still alive and before some mission had gone awry and the both were lost forever- despite the fact that the Impa chosen by the sheikah had, indeed, never once failed in her duties, he’d still chosen to attend to the fears of his nephew and brave the storm, just in case. He’d chosen to risk it, even if it did mean he’d strayed from his orders. 

  He wishes every day that he hadn’t.  

  If only he’d done as Loretta said and minded Link first and foremost, maybe nothing would have changed. If only he’d promised that in the morning they would go together- although, looking back, he knows the princess would have been dead by that time if he had. 

  He’s long come to grips with the fact that whatever he had done, there would have been no happy ending, but even so, he still hates himself that he had allowed what happened next. 

  Rather than tell him to go home, rather than protect him, shield him from the world his mother never wanted him to know, Aflon had looked into the terrified eyes of his nephew, down in the depths of the castle sewers where the boy had followed him against his orders, he’d used his final breaths to push a sword and shield into hands too small to hold them, bidding the child go to save Zelda. He’d known he was dying, he’d known Link was scared, but at that little obedient nod, he’d also known something more: 

  His death would leave Link the last of their bloodline, and a prophecy given to a queen long ago had once said that it would be the last of them that would face Ganon when next he emerged. Looking at eyes the same as Loretta’s own, albeit far kinder, he’d found himself reminded of those words, and sickeningly certain that he was witnessing the birth of that hero. His little Link who wanted to be a farmer, who didn’t know how to fight and who was still so tiny, so young, was going to become the Hero of Hyrule. 

  Though he’d been bleeding out as they spoke, he’s rather certain it was heartbreak that had been his undoing, not the wound in his side, and he’d drawn his final breath to the sound of sniffled tears. 

  Yet, it seemed his eyes had only just closed before they were opening again, pain gone and so too his young charge. At first, he’d thought perhaps he’d struck his head somehow and dreamed the whole thing, but both sword and shield were gone as well, although when he reached the end of the sewer system the prison was quiet, empty of any princess, and when he’d turned back and returned to the outside world, not only was it daylight, but it was spring. 

  It had been a late autumn storm that he’d traveled through to reach the castle. 

  He’d thought, hoped, that it was some trick, but when he’d hurried along back towards town, to the house, everyone he passed seemed to think nothing at all of the fact that they were plowing fields and making ready for a planting. They were preparing for a new year of work, as though the winter itself wasn’t supposed to be coming, as though it had already happened! And there were still bits of snow lying about. There was a dampness to the ground of a fresh fallen rain. The world itself seemed insistent it tell him that he was wrong. But if he was, then where had the time gone, and what had happened? Where was Link and why was his side unmarred as though never an ax had plowed through it? 

  His feet had all but flown down the paths, paying little or no mind to those he passed or the startled shouts they sent his way. His goal had been set; his destination desperately darted towards. 

  The house looked entirely normal when he’d finally reached it. The orchard was beginning to brighten, not yet blooming, still expecting another snap of cold before the season truly sprung, but they were well along to blossoming. The path was clear, nothing and no one on it, and when he’d come to the door, he’d found it locked up tight. As it should be, as he’d left it, as he’d taught Link to leave it. He still had his key with him even though his sword was missing, and though his hands trembled he’d still managed to fish it out and, with some struggle, had gotten it into the lock. 

  The house looked the same as it had when he left. Clean as a whistle because a soldier’s training still lingered with him even after eight years and that expectation was one that he’d taught Link to hold himself to as well. Their beds were made sloppily, as though the boy had tried to do it for him after he’d left and maybe given up after, or else simply been unable to see, from his height, how crookedly the blankets had been lain. Most notably though, Aflon had noted, there wasn’t much in the way of dust. There wasn’t much in the way of dirt. The only difference that he found was that the pot, which he kept by the door for spare rupees, was empty. 

  His breath had evened some at that. A clean house meant someone had minded it, and missing rupees were nothing if it meant Link hadn’t been left to starve in the unidentified period of time where Aflon had been absent. 

  Or so he had thought. 

  It was two days later, two days he’d spent searching the whole neighborhood, quite at the end of his rope in fear as Link hadn’t been seen at all in that time, when at last he’d laid eyes on his nephew. 

  Or rather, when he’d met the hero. 

  Because the wary creature that entered the cottage door and froze, hand on a sword and dark eyes so large in a thin face, was not his nephew. Because his nephew would have run to him with maybe a few tears or a cheer, jumping into his arms with a hug rather than start and draw a blade the moment Aflon made a motion towards him. 

  Link didn’t fear him. 

  The boy who came to him in Link’s stead did. 

  When he voiced his worries to the women who’d helped to mind the lad over the years, some would say perhaps he’d been taken, changed for a changeling by the forest children, at last getting their hands on a hero to replace their own. Others just shook their heads and sighed, unwilling to explain why. 

  He’d known though that the child in his home wasn’t a changeling though. No, because that child had eyes every bit as much like the late queen. Eyes that knew war, and battle, that bore the burden of a kingdom which dragged on too small shoulders, eyes that Knew, that Looked, and eyes that Saw people for what they were, not simply what they’d claim to be. There was no doubt, looking at that boy, that he was Loretta’s son. 

  But he wasn’t Aflon’s nephew. 

  Link was bright and bubbly, quieter by nature but prone to prattling when the mood took him. The silent little thing that lived in his house, wary like a rabbit hunted and hidden, was a stark contrast. Link liked to travel with him, going to town for any errands and skip-tripping along the path at his side, getting distracted by small creatures and ever full of questions.  

  Not only did the hero avoid going out of the house when he could, preferring instead to stay inside behind a locked-up door and shuttered windows, but when he did go out, the lad was ever scanning the world, ever watching the sky and the path as though expecting an attack from one or the other. He didn’t stray off towards sudden changes, curious ears cocked, he put a hand to his shoulder and looked for a blade. 

  The child that came back to him held the manner and look of an old knight, not a child too young to even be a page, and it disturbed him. He tried though. This was Loretta’s son, the prince of Hyrule, and as he’d later learned, the boy had indeed become the country’s hero. Not that the boy had told him that himself. No, the child in his home didn’t speak, tongue faltering and sounds stuttering before hands would lift to answer questions in as few words as possible. 

  Two of his fingers were crooked, Aflon realized, watching him, heart aching. Two fingers and, in those first days, he’d favor one leg over the other. 

  He wanted to help, but the boy was wary of touch, starting and panicking as a first reaction if he didn’t see it coming and wincing even when he could. He kept a wide space between himself and anyone, a swords-distance, Aflon realized after a spell, although as for the blade he carried, well, that had disappeared after the first few weeks. It wasn’t the sword he’d handed to his nephew though. The sword that the hero held was unfamiliar to him; radiant, beautiful, masterfully forged so that his own blade paled in comparison. His was absent, and the one time he had asked what happened to it, he’d just watched violet eyes fall and shoulders hunch, and immediately changed the subject. 

  It was hard. His nephew looked the same as Loretta’s child, same face, same form, same stature, although time had made her changes too. The boy was scrawny, and though he had hoped his lost rupees meant his charge was still fed even with him gone, he’d come to doubt that. 

  He wasn’t sure what to make of it when, at learning of his own return, one of the neighbors down the road had invited them both for dinner, and the hero child had only stared at his own plate, stirring the food around but not eating. He’d dismissed it at first, but soon it became abundantly clear that the hero would not eat food he couldn’t watch being prepared, not unless it was a meal offered by Aflon himself, and, to his own surprise, Dolly, the village elder’s wife. 

  Somehow, both she, Dolly, and Sahasralah, the elder, were the only ones who seemed unaffected by how his charge had changed. In fact, more than once, Aflon would find himself watching, wistful, as the two would speak with or even handle the hero with not a thing done to show fear in response. Simple acceptance met their motions, their words, and at times he’d almost been tempted to ask if maybe the boy that wore Link’s face wanted to stay with them instead, as he seemed so much more at peace in their home. 

  He didn’t though. He’d sworn a vow, a vow to do his duty to his prince, to his queen, and though he wasn’t certain if Loretta’s spirit would haunt him if he failed that, he wasn’t exactly keen to find out. 

  He couldn’t leave her son with strangers, with people she didn’t know or trust. Still, as the days passed, house silent as a crypt and the boy inside nearly the corpse it housed, he’d found the temptation growing daily. 

  At night as he’d blow out the lamps, now knowing full well not to approach his charge in the dark and sometimes fearing to even look at him (because what looked back was a slip of a shade with eyes glinting red like a rabbit’s in the low light of the hearth and by all means hardly human) he’d fight his own mind on the matter. Stay or leave, linger with what wasn’t any longer what he’d sword to protect, the child that wasn’t his nephew but was a hero. 

  Loretta said to protect him, he’d remind himself as he lay beneath the blankets. Yet, small hands knew the touch of blood, and the boy who’d wandered in at his door knew a blade like knights four times his age still hadn’t learned. Lying there at night, he’d wonder to himself, what was there left to protect the boy from? Loretta’s child already had seen everything she wanted to shield him from, so what was even the point, when there was no more innocence to shield? 

  It was that thinking, after weeks, months, that had led to him gathering up clothing and books, toys left behind because the person who would leave with him wasn’t a child but a young soldier, so what did they matter? He’d packed things up, watched the hero slip to his side to help, dutifully but silently gathering Link’s clothes and folding them up with the same careful effort Link always did, ending with the same misshapen result, and tucking them away like they would do every summer for the trip back to his own childhood home. 

  He’d locked the door tight that summer. Shut up the shutters and minded that nothing was left untended, no mess within or without. Long ears had cocked sideways, big eyes watching, curious, but nothing was said with scarred hands holding their bags while he prepared the house for their departure. 

  Most summers, he’d take Link down to Lon-Lon so the boy could stay with his grandparents and Aflon could attend to the heavier tasks of their orchard without worrying over minding the lad or leaving him feeling alone. This year though, after Mother had ushered the boy within the ranch house, shooting him a startled stare over his shoulder, he’d not gone back to the cottage. 

  Aflon Lon had, instead, taken to the road. 

  Guilt ate at him, but he’d known there was no going back.  

  He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he couldn’t return to the house. It wasn’t home without the laughter of his nephew, without bright eyes and brighter smiles. It wasn’t home without a presence at his side working away at the trees, muttering and talking at times to the birds who’d stop to watch them in their labor. It wasn’t home without Link, and Link- or at least the boy he knew, was gone. 

 So, he’d wandered Hyrule. He hadn’t traveled in a long while, but it was easy to take up again, to wander the roads by day and make camp at night. He stopped in old haunts he used to visit as a knight to see how they had changed, and he’d thought nothing of his wanderings. After all, it was summer; the summers were always free for him to do what he wanted. It was when autumn had begun to show her colors that guilt had well and truly began to build up inside of him. 

  Link would be waiting at the gates of Lon-Lon, watching the road for his uncle to come and bring him home. He knew it wouldn’t be the same eager stare, ears crooked and head rested on folded arms as the boy would perch on the rungs of the fence, leaning his whole weight against it and keeping eyes and ears on the road. The hero child would likely sit with more wariness, but despite all changes there was no doubt in Aflon’s mind that he’d wait all the same. 

  The difference though, the real one, was that this time, Aflon couldn’t come back. He couldn’t. 

  He couldn’t go back to that house, that child, he couldn’t live like that forever, with the shade of what should have been. 

  Mother and Father though, they could handle a soldier boy. They’d handled Banzetta after his first battles, they’d know how to work with Loretta, and if they could manage the parents of his own charge, he was sure theft were the best suited to handling a young hero. Not only that, but they were safe, they were good, and they’d never hurt Link for the circumstances of his birth. They would be better to him than Aflon could be, and given time, he was sure the hero would settle there again, into a life with a knight, a lady, a history of heroes all around him on the walls and swords ready for his hands; the life he’d taken on, but one Aflon couldn’t watch lived. 

  As for himself, he’d wander. He’d travel, he’d embrace the world he’d had to forsake for a small bundle. By winter, he’d gone further south than he’d ever strayed, gone where word of the hero didn’t reach, where peace and simplicity beckoned. He’d meant to resist, but an evening in a bar with a pretty woman at his side had changed that. 

  “Here alone, stranger?” She’d asked, voice thick with a drawl and gaze bold as she’d settled beside him. 

  He’d never been a bold man, quiet by nature, so he’d nodded. 

  She hadn’t been dissuaded, motioning to the barkeep for a round for them both before striking up chatter, asking where he was from? What brought him here? Where was he going? And his answer of course had been that he was from central Hyrule, seeking his fate and unsure where he’d find it. 

  “D’ya have a family?” She’d asked, honest and friendly. “Can’t be easy for them not knowing where you are.” 

  And he’d hesitated, just a moment, before offering a stilted smile and answering “just my parents and a sister.” 

  A sister who’d left, he told her, to marry a man from across the border, who visited at times but was busy with a farm and a family of her own, much like his own parents were even in their older age. He’d said nothing of a nephew, just the same as he’d left out the dead older brother and sister-in-law. 

  He’d lingered in that town for a few more days, and she’d been at the pub each night, coming to join him when he entered and striking up chatter until they were both looking forwards to the evening when they’d happen upon each other. Somehow though, that had turned to arranged meetings, to wandering, to talking, to a kiss that left him speechless and a courtship that left him stumbling and eager like he hadn’t been since he was just a boy. 

  He’d wondered how she hadn’t had a fella before he’d come, but he’d thanked the heavens for it too, especially when he’d proposed, when they’d taken a home together, when they’d made the choice to live life together. 

  It was easy to forget, for a while, in that early bliss, in the whirlwind of emotions, what he’d left behind to find it. He was reminded though when their own little one was born, when a little boy had been laid in his arms and he’d started when blue shone back at him rather than violet. 

  Liza would laugh and tease him, calling him a worrywart when he fussed. She’d say it was like he’d never held a child before; he was so cautious. She’d remind him to relax, when she found him sitting up and watching the wee one slumber, because he was healthy, he was fine, they needn’t worry so much because while babies need care, they won’t break if you breathed wrong. 

  Aflon couldn’t help himself though. 

  He was used to looking for signs of trouble, for any hint of illness. He’d started when their boy had started babbling, started talking, at only two years old. Liza had said that was normal, that they wouldn’t stay babies forever, that it was part of growing up. Still, he’d found himself signing more than speaking with the boy, and more times than he could count, the wrong name had slipped to his lips. 

  Their son had dark hair like his mother, blue eyes like Aflon himself, but it always startled him to see them. It was supposed to be strawberry blonde, with starlit skies veiled beneath. He expected a slip of a child who was quiet but eager, not a loud little thing that ran and darted and climbed and made him panic because Link was fragile! …except this wasn’t Link, and his son was strong, like him, like Liza. His son was bold, loud, like a little boy was supposed to be, not timid and wary like the boy he’d left behind. 

  It never stopped catching him off guard though. Their little Rusl didn’t care anything for books, or reading, or sitting still. He was always off with other children of the village; he was always climbing trees and ‘sword fighting’ other young ones with twigs they’d find on the roadside. 

  He was a normal boy, all told, but somehow that was more jarring, in so many ways, than if he hadn’t been. Because Aflon had never dealt with a normal boy, he realized. Even Before, his Link hadn’t been normal, he just hadn’t known to see it. 

  It was strange, how often Rusl would stare, watching people without those hesitant little falters that Link always had when someone met his eyes. He didn’t pay attention to the little details, didn’t care to watch the sky or the sun. He didn’t care about stars or tiny creatures or pouring over books the same size as himself for hours. 

  The one thing that the two boys did have in common though, was a love for stories of heroes. 

  Link used to bury his little button nose in the volumes of history that told of the Hero of the Four Sword, the Hero of the Skies: the chosen hero. Rusl didn’t read much, but one day he’d come back to their home with Liza after errands, and he’d had nothing on his mind except some story he’d heard about the Hero of Legends. 

  Aflon had paused in making dinner, frowning because he’d never heard of that hero before, because Link never spoke of that title. 

  “Who is the Hero of Legend?” He’d asked, turning to the dirt streaked four-year-old at the door. 

  “He’s who killed Ganon and saved Princess Zelda!” Had been his answer. “He’s so cool, I wish he’d come to our village so I could meet him!” 

  He hadn’t realized, until Liza had darted across the kitchen and scooped up the pot, that their meal had boiled over, or that it’d burned his hand when it did. 

  Rusl and his friends would talk about Link, pretend to be Link, say they wanted to be heroes like him, be knights, be brave. He’d be in the village and stories would sound, gossip between neighbors recounting the latest exploits of the Hero of Legend. He’d killed Ganon twice, he’d traveled the world, he’d saved Labrynna from a witch, he’d fought some tyrant down in Holodrum. Everyone had a different rumor that they’d heard, everyone a different thought on what the hero might be like. Despite all they’d chatter about though, all he could see in his own mind was a boy with heavy eyes and crooked fingers that trembled when he used them to talk. 

  Aflon had gone home that day, after hearing all the chatter, all the stories, all the news that had come down to them from some merchant who’d strayed to town, and he’d told Liza he was taking a trip. 

  “Just for a few days,” he’d said, wrapping arms around her and trying to smile, even though he’d known she’d see past it. “Just to see how my parents are doing.” He’d left out the part about his old house, about the child he’d raised inside it. He knew it was wrong, felt guilt eat away each time his mind turned there, but he’d never let slip about the boy he’d raised before meeting her, the child he’d left behind. 

  Link, as he’d known him, was gone, why speak of what wasn’t there any longer? Why drag everything he’d tried to leave behind into the perfection he’d stumbled himself into? 

  Still, he needed to know, needed to see, and maybe, just maybe, he’d wanted to see Loretta’s boy again, just to assure himself that he was alright, because try as he might, much as he wished, worry still plagued his heart for the little soldier boy he’d left at Lon-Lon. 

  He’d stopped by the house first, if only out of curiosity for what had become of it. It had been years, had the village elders sold it? Left it be? He didn’t know, so he’d taken the road around Kakariko, hood up as he passed old neighbors, boots stumbling some on a path he knew better than that back to his own wife and child. 

  The cottage hadn’t changed a bit. Standing on the path, apple trees shivering in a slight breeze, he’d almost felt a decade younger, almost tricked himself into thinking he’d need only open the old wood door, the door whose key still sat heavy in his pocket, and a bright little face would whip around to meet him, gap-toothed grin his welcome home as feet would pit-patter across the worn-out floors. Maybe it was that image that tricked his feet into walking, following a path altered only by shade of trees grown taller in his absence, their fruit hanging heavy but not yet ready to be plucked.  

  It’d be cider making season soon, he’d mused to himself, hand digging through his pocket for a key he couldn’t name why he still carried. Absently, he wondered if the old press was still down in the basement, if Link- because it must be Link- had minded to keep it oiled and tended, or if he’d left off using it. After all, the former knight chuckled, the boy couldn’t even turn the handle fully on his own, now could he? 

  His mind had been so caught in his thoughts he hadn’t been minding his surroundings, pushing the door open after a moment’s struggle (the key stuck more than it once used to) and moving to enter his old home. He hadn’t expected to be immediately whacked over the head, nor, when he’d picked himself up again, to find himself face to… face(?) with a masked figure. 

  “We aren’t open!” The purple clad individual had declared, mallet in hand, and a small creature with wings- which could in no ways be considered a bird- fluttering about at his shoulders, squawking and hissing something terrible. “And if you thought you could break in, you’re dead wrong!” 

  Aflon had blinked, slowly, and then started, gaze flying about the house briefly. 

  It wasn’t changed, not really. Pictures were all taken down and boxes were tucked against the walls, but the couch, the rocking chair, the china-cabinet, it was all still there, still in the same places, now with new stains and scuffs, but he could recognize them all the same. Really, the only major difference was the desk near the door scattered over with glittering items and objects, little price tags set before them in poor mimicry of a shop. 

  He wasn’t sure if the purple clad figure was meant to be here or not, but given that the house still technically belonged to him, he’d been more than slightly caught off guard. 

  “I’m not here for a shop, I- who are you?” 

  “Who are you?” The apparent merchant had demanded in answer, face shielded behind a hood that looked like it was meant to resemble a very, very odd face. “And why are you here?” Their voice was trembling slightly, but they stood firm despite. 

  “I live- or, well…” he’d paused, picking himself up and dusting himself off, “I used to live here. This was my house- still is actually, I’ve just been away.” 

  Despite not being able to see the merchant’s eyes, he could feel the apprehension in their gaze, weighty as it was as they looked up at him, one hand on their hip and the other holding fast to their oversized mallet. “You must have the wrong house; this one belongs to Mister Hero.” 

  Oh. 

  “You mean Link?” 

  “You know him?” Their head cocked on one side, hood following with a flap of long ear-like attachments. 

  Aflon had nodded briefly. “Do you?” 

  “Of course!” And suddenly the mallet was gone, the figure gesturing about with a cheery chirp now entering their tone. “He’s my housemate! Lets me stay here, keep up the shop while he’s gone and all that lovely sort of thing. Didn’t realize he had a landlord himself though! So terribly sorry if he’s been stiffing you on rent, he’s been out of town for forever now, you see.” 

  He’d nodded. He hadn’t known what better to do. 

  The stranger had introduced themselves as Ravio, offered to show him their wares, but when asked about Link had firmly insisted that he knew nothing more than that the hero was off on some mission for the crown or something and that he was just keeping the house in order for him. 

  It had been all Aflon needed to hear though. Link was still alive, apparently having embraced his role as the hero, and it seemed he wasn’t alone. He must have left the farm at some time, but seeing as he was approaching fifteen it made sense. He’d been rather eager for his freedom at that age too. 

  The kid would be fine, he’d told himself, walking back to Liza and Rusl. Link didn’t need him; he was getting along fine. 

  Somehow, even with the whole trip home to convince himself of that, it hadn’t worked. In fact, now he couldn’t stop thinking about it, slipping more with Rusl, drifting off at home. Liza wouldn’t let him in the kitchen anymore, insisting that he was too prone to forgetting what he’d been doing, too likely to hurt himself because he wasn’t paying attention. She’d begged him to see a doctor, or talk to her, but he’d waved it off, saying he was just tired, just thinking, he was fine; he just needed to rest. He knew she didn’t believe him, but she’d stopped asking at least. 

  If only he could stop himself thinking as easily. 

  But as the months and seasons passed, more worry had grown, more thoughts. 

  Link is turning sixteen this winter. Sixteen years since he’d stood on the edge of the wood with the queen of Hyrule and taken her child in his arms, promising to guard him. Only eight of those years were spent keeping that promise, only half, and he’d startled when he’d realized it. Even now, he’s left wondering, as he braves a storm so like that night that robbed him of his precious nephew, has Link changed? What is he like now? Did he ever grow into those too-big ears of his? Did he learn to look men in the eyes when he spoke to them, to steady his voice and hold himself with surety and not simply just skill? 

 His boy will be becoming a man, and he doesn’t know what that man looks like. 

  Or rather, he didn’t. 

  Because when he comes home, drenched to the bone but with a fresh kill in hand, ready for dinner, ready for him to show Rusl how to skin and prepare it, he finds his house full of strangers, his wide smiling and telling him that they’re travelers, more boys than men, and they need a place to stay but the inn is so far. Of course he greets them, of course he looks at men in armor and offers a smile like he would to his old brothers in arms, welcomes them to his home. 

  He didn’t realize, until just now, how much he missed hosting people fresh off the path he once used to follow, how much he missed their stories or sharing a smoke or a drink with men like himself once in a while, not just farming folk (nice as they are). 

  He’s midway to offering the a warm welcome when his eyes stray to the fire and he finds himself freezing. 

  Great violet eyes, shaded heavy under strawberry blonde, plastered down by dampness and the storm that howls just outside the door, stare up at him. 

  His breath catches. 

  It’s Loretta’s face, freckled and fine, fae-like features and faint traces of scars, upturned nose and steady jaw, but the galaxies that gaze out from violet pools aren’t the queen, even if everything else about the figure at his fire is. No, those stars are all Link, all his nephew, and the weight of that stare, not sure and stern like his sister-in-law but yet also not startled and wide like that day eight years back when he’d first met the hero. 

  In the same breath, it’s the dead queen and the young hero that sits before him. It’s Loretta with accusing eyes, fire burning in their depths as his own words ring in his head, sounding a promise, a vow to do as she’d said, to guard and guide her son, to protect him, no matter what. Yet it’s Link, it’s that little boy with eyes that know a demon’s smile and remember him bathed in his own blood. 

  If his heart had failed him when he’d first put a sword in the hands of his nephew, it’s ache is a thousand times worse as he stares at the result of that action, even as it refuses to cease in an endless flutter inside him as shock touches the face of the little soldier boy he’d left behind eight years ago, but who’s somehow, some way, found his way back before Aflon’s fire, staring up at him with the same startled gaze that shook and broke his world so long ago. 

  His knees hit the floor even as Liza cries out in concern, hands fluttering about him, but he can’t lift his eyes to look at her. Instead, he’s trapped in an endless expanse of dying stars. 

  “Link.” 

  Long ears, still too big for his nephew, turn his way at the sound of his voice, the answer coming out breathless and disbelieving. “Uncle?” 

[ishallgivehimupforever]

Here We go again Bellarke warriors, if you can hear me, it's been about 1680 days since I stopped caring (or so I thought)

I hadn't been to tumblr in years, before I decided to give the 100 a rewatch in June of this year, as I had given up somewhere around the start of season 5 (I remember hating the LONG ass timeskip teased at the end of S4, I guess some other media must have swallowed me during hiatus, and when I tried to give that season a chance I vividly remember 1) I couldn't see shit on my screen 2) I hated what the timeskip did to the established relationships) and so I dropped it for good, looking back I almost can't believe I could just...not finish it like that because let me tell you I did NOT fuck about Clarke and Bellamy, and Raven, and Monty, and probably some other characters back in 2015-2016. I think I maybe did not appreciate season 4 enough at the time it was airing (because I think binge-watching is very flattering for that season, watching it live I remember it was frustrating to watch the characters go on side quests in 4A) but now knowing what the character arcs are and where it was going makes it my second-favorite season. BUT, I digress, wow. This is meant to be a rambling, incohisive love letter to the compelling relationship between Bellamy and Clarke. I warn you, they truly do not fucking leave you as it turns out. I would go to the trenches for them back in my fandom days in 2015-17, and I realised, after binge-waching the show over 4 sleepless nights (seasons 1-6, which are the only seasons in existence, obviously)that I STILL just FUCKING CARE SO MUCH. I NEVER CARED ABOUT FICTIONAL CHARACTERS SO MUCH AS CARE FOR THESE TWO SEPARATELY, AND AS SOULMATES. Because let me tell you, Clarke and Bellamy, they fucking love each. Like actual, happens-only-in-romances LOVE. It is frankly INSANE how JRoth, K*m Shum and other managed to gaslight me over some of the bellarke scenes in S2-S3 as to make me think it's in my (and thousand's of fans') head WHEN IT IS SO FUCKING OBVIOUS FROM SCORE, EDITING CHOICES, LONGING LOOK SHOTS, HANDS SHOTS, LINES, AND FINALLY, ACTING AND DIRECTION THAT THESE TWO ARE LOVERS.

I have never, ever, before or since, followed two characters who were so compatible, so equal, so trusting in each other, so open with one another, so mindful of the other's emotions and needs, so so so made for each other, that it is no surprise to me that they are top 10 F/M pairing on AO3. Because Bellamy and Clarke would fall in love in every imaginable scenario, in every universe, across time. I am not usually that cheesy or cringy, but it is true. I could not put my finger on why they are my absolute favorite to read fanfic for and then it occurred to me. That as long as the hands of fate put these two in proximity of each other, it;s a done deal. That chemistry transcends the limits of a single tv show. The depth with how Clarke and Bellamy love each other honestly makes me pause for breath sometimes. It is not just the iconic, famous bellarke scenes, but also the quiet moments.

Like in 6x05 or 6x06 (cant remember) when Clarke's body was stolen by Josephine after her one-night stand with Cillian. (stay with me) Bellamy, unaware that Clarke isn't herself at that point, comes over to chat, he's clearly at least a bit jealous over her sleeping with Cillian, and yet he says "happiness looks good on you" with that wide, earnest smile. And just wow. How must he love her, to be so utterly happy for her own happiness that has in that instance nothing to do with him. so selfless. well, selfless is basically Bellamy's middle name.

Or how in season 4, after a lot of the characters and at times the narrative wanted to push this idea on Clarke that she is the sole leader of her people, gets right back on track to her co-leader dynamic with Bellamy, constantly checking with him, considering his input, and respecting choices that she herself would maybe not make (releasing the ensalved arkadians and grounders vs ensuring they get a machine necessary to generate water) but always understanding that these choices agree with his core values, and she loves him for it.

This post is way too long. I love Bellamy. I love Clarke. People often use the 'MY PARENTS" about ships on twitter, and you know what, in my case that's kinda true with bellarke. I met these characters when I was 15. I am 25 now, and with an adult perspective to my surprise I found their relationship even more profound then I remembered, and I was insanse about them already. They are truly THE power couple of all time. I miss the 100, If you wanna ramble about it together, feel welcome to send me ask, I'd love to have an excuse to share some of my (sometimes unpopular) opinions lol.

[autistic-ben-tennyson]

In Defense of Ben during the Ultimate Kevin arc

A lot of people have complained about this arc from Ultimate Alien for years. There’s been discourse about whether Ben was OOC for wanting to kill Kevin. Some have called Ben a sociopath or claimed he wanted to kill him because Kevin upstaged him as the hero against Aggregor. While Gwen’s faith in Kevin was what ultimately saved the day, Ben’s anger towards Kevin was not out of jealousy and sociopathy but from a place of hurt from Kevin “betraying” him.

For starters, let’s look back at the OS. Ben befriended Kevin during his debut and knew him more personally than Gwen did. That friendship ended when Kevin was willing to crash a train full of people and showed Ben what he could become had he kept letting his selfishness control him. Despite that, Ben still tried to offer him help but Kevin blew it by trying to take the Omnitrix. Kevin would end up trying to frame Ben for his crimes and teaming up with Vilgax to take the Omnitrix again.

Years later, Kevin was in a healthier state of mind after training with Kwarrel to control his powers. He came across Ben again in Ben 10 Returns and briefly tried to take revenge. He ended up joining the team for selfish reasons but after Labrid’s death, decided to stay as a promise to Labrid, this time accepting a second chance from Ben. The two would slowly trust each other despite rough bumps like Kevin stealing the Rustbucket or Ben mutating him by hacking the Omnitrix. By the time of Ultimate Alien, Ben considered him the brother he never had and Kevin was thankful for being given another chance.

So when Kevin absorbed the ultimatrix to stop Aggregor, to Ben it was a betrayal after all they had been through. In Nor Iron Bars a Cage, Ben insists that Kevin “made his choice” and seems more hurt than Gwen as he had to see the same thing happen beforehand. Kevin was back to being the monster who haunted him in his worst nightmares as a child. You know what this reminds me a bit of? Raven and Terra’s dynamic in Teen Titans which ironically was also produced by Glen Murakami. Raven also had a difficult time trusting Terra at the start but eventually considered her a friend which is why she was furious at the betrayal.

Was Raven a monster or sociopath for believing Terra was evil and beyond redemption? No, she had a difficulty trusting people because of her upbringing and was proven wrong by Beast Boy but her anger was justified. Ben also was implied to have few friends in the OS which is why Gwen and later Kevin became as important to him as they are. I sympathize with Terra and Kevin, but Raven and Ben weren’t evil for wanting to stop them either. Ben didn’t want to kill Kevin either. Believing you have to do something isn’t the same as wanting to do it. He had tried to do things the “Ben” way against Aggregor and kept falling flat on his face. He admits during his talk with Max in the car that he doesn’t want to do this but feels he has to. Plus does this look like a bloodthirsty sociopath who just wants to kill his friend out of jealousy?

Ben made a mistake here and was not presented as being in the right by the narrative. He beat up Vulkanus and the Forever Knights for information and was acting very harsh and aggressive towards Gwen. However, he was convinced that he needed to be this way after letting fame get to his head and Aggregor nearly taking over the universe. Gwen was ultimately proven right and Kevin was able to stop himself from killing her, but Ben didn’t see that due to being knocked out and the next time he saw Kevin, he was trying to kill Alan, making his anger a lot more reasonable. If you don’t like how he acted during this arc, that’s fine, but it wasn’t out of a jealous bloodlust or sociopathy but understandable feelings of betrayal and blaming himself for not being able to stop Aggregor. By the time of OV, Ben has learned this lesson and accepts he can’t beat himself up over failure when he forgives himself for losing feedback, all he can do is try and move forward and be the best hero he can. His whole arc in Ultimate Alien was accepting he can’t be in control. He stopped himself from killing Kevin, accepted having to die to free the Ultimates and gave up the power of Dagon after being tempted to remake the universe in his image.

[shakespeareallanpoe]

Talks With Father

Word count: Idk

Warnings: none, unless you're terrified of Bruce being a good dad 😕

Dedication: @purp1e-ph0enix & @bradshawsbaddie

_____________________

"You mention her often."

Damian turned to look at the vigilante beside him, his finely tuned senses and years of knowing his father filling in everything Batman didn't say. There was no prompt, no segway into this conversation. They were sitting in the Batmobile while the computer program inside was rebooting and nothing but comfortable silence between them only a few seconds previously. It was offered as conversation starter and Damian knew Batman wouldn't push. In his own bat-way he was telling his son he was aware- the greatest detective in Gotham City was always aware.

Damian didn't put much stock into his father's experience with relationships, and they both knew Batman wasn't offering advice. Damian could leave it there. Batman wouldn't tell anyone and his son knew he would likely never mention it again. Damian almost took it, and if it was a couple years ago he would've. But since he had joined and left the Titans, Damian had seen the effects of allowing relationships to deepen beyond the surface level his league training always taught him to maintain. Being back with the league as their leader, he saw just how inhuman they had expected him to be. Damian rarely got the genuine moments his younger self always scoffed at, and he knew his mental and emotional health wasn't benefitting from it.

It's how he found himself occasionally visiting Gotham. At it's worst it was a filthy city that reeked of crime, and never failed to have some crisis or another. Damian was a hero here. He knew he was violent and brash but that's what the city needed when the police failed. Gotham always needed him for who he was, and Damian remembered telling his father these things go both ways. He needed Gotham as well. To take a break from the league, when that world got so toxic it became hard for him to breathe. Hard to see the man in his mirror.

Only Alfred and his father knew. Of course they knew. But Batman put a great deal of effort for the sake of his son, and allowed Damian to come and go as he pleased. It was hard for the man with trust issues and severe paranoia, but a week before he passed Dick had spoken to Batman about letting Damian go. That he would fly true if he was given the chance to spread his wings. And everyone knew the bat was trying to live by his first son's final wishes.

It didn't weigh on Damian's mind for long. His relationship with his father had greatly improved, to the point that they now worked together during Damian's visits. His father already knew. And self growth could only make a person stronger for it, so why not?

"I want to know how she is. She has yet to leave my... heart."

Batman exhaled, a sign that he'd heard his son's even response. Damian never reached out to his old teammates, but he did occasionally inquire as to how they were after the spilt. Batman kept tabs on them for these moments, and while he knew little about Raven, what he did know he always shared. Despite it hardly ever being good news.

"Raven is strong. She is with Kent at the moment and doing all she can." Batman's dark voice offered.

Damian didn't hesitate. "Just because the burden is carried well does not mean it is deserved. She is innocent, suffering, and still trying to save those who are the same. Magic is the only difference between the people and their hero."

Batman knew he and his son's tendencies towards philosophical pessimism would only darken their conversation. This world was a mess and those who fought for justice rarely got justice of their own. His first son was dead. His biological son existed because someone he cared for took advantage of him without remorse. But Batman, in his heart, desperately wanted the best for the youth of his city. All the children who could have lives he never could if only he sacrificed himself in every way for his city.

Looking across the Batmobile which had 4.33 seconds left in it's update, seeing the face that looked so much like his own at the age when he was lost in his determination to become the hero his life never had, Batman smiled softly at his son. "That doesn't mean she isn't cared for."

Damian, halfway lost in his own mind, truly a mirror of his father, had no response. Raven deserved so much more. She worked so hard and never gave a sign of the pain and pressure she had to endure. This world was a mess and those who fought for justice rarely got justice of their own. Damian's oldest brother was dead. His father hated him in the beginning because he was the physical reminder of how cruel the world could be. But Damian, in his heart, desperately wanted the best for Raven. He wished he could rewrite her fate, which seemed to be carved with blood in the stars, and give her the peace she sacrificed herself for in every way for her world.

Damian eventually found his own voice breaking himself from his musings, spilling from his mouth as if it took no thought. "Please help them. Save her."

Batman nodded, his finely tuned observation filling in everything Damian didn't say. The older man silently handed his son the keys to the Batmobile and moved to get out of the driver's seat. "Damian. The things that mean the most to us are the things we sacrifice everything for. You both care for the world and one day, you have to believe that the world will give it back to you."

"Tt. That sounds like a Hallmark marathon in the Wayne Manor was finished recently." Damian shot back lightly, grabbing the keys with a grin.

"It might have been." Batman replied evenly, holding the driver's door open while his young superhero climbed in. "I expect the car in perfect shape when it inevitably returns past your curfew."

"High expectations. We'll see what the criminal underbelly of Gotham has to say about that. Could be a rough night."

Batman stood back from his car in anticipation for his youngest's depart. "Shouldn't be a problem then. But if you want your first date to be a seaside picnic on the Wayne Beach with Alfred's cookies, I look forward to seeing the Batmobile in good shape tomorrow morning."

Damian blushed- only faintly- as only a teenager talking to his father about his crush would. "Perhaps your Hallmark movies do provide a potential benefit, however miniscule and insignificant."

Batman smiled almost teasingly. "There's no need to suffer through the cinema you don't enjoy. I've already collected quite the list of romantic outing ideas I think the two of you would like."

"Father! Do not meddle with my life!" Came Damian's indignant and completely flustered response from the interior of the giant black vehicle. He didn't want to know how long his father had been collecting romantic ideas for a potential future he may have with his Raven.

Batman snorted. "Alfred's idea. Told me to put my time in the theater room to good use. Kate is the one who went out of her way to buy Raven a series of date night dresses. I believe she called them 'adorable' in her description to me. Do you think Raven would look suitable in them?"

Damian in that moment was busy thanking every god he didn't believe in that the blackout window was up to hide his scarlet face as he violently shifted the car into gear and raced out of the batcave.

Do NOT think about Raven in an adorable purple dress

Do NOT think about Raven in an adorable purple dress

[va-3]

You're Injured

Masterlist

Joker:

For the first time(as far as Joker knew) you'd been shot at instead of your boss. Your injuries weren't that severe, but damn they hurt. A shot to the ribs did quite the number on you, but you swore you were fine. Joker on the other hand would have none of it and demanded you be cared for. He told you it was only because you were the best bodyguard he'd had, but you could see straight through him. 

Captain Boomerang:

Working alongside Raven Kikason did not assure any long lifetimes, but apparently you were very good at walking the line between life and death. Digger had been to your place hundreds of times, but this was the most startling visit he'd ever had. Digger had walked in on you heavily breathing in your kitchen chair and Raven stitching several bullet holes closed. At first he'd done nothing but panic, but once you'd calmed him with a kiss, he settled down. Or got wasted. Same difference. 

Deadshot:

It happened so fast. Floyd didn't have time to react. You and Floyd had been out for a dinner date, but it'd gotten both of your guards down. In seconds you'd been shot straight through the head and were face down on the table. He didn't know what to do other than take you home.

 You forget? You always escape death. Always. It did traumatise Floyd though, so there weren't any out-of-house dates for a solid two months. 

Diablo:

Explosions always did a decent number on you, but this was the worst it'd ever been. Chato had watched your body get flung through a window, and had jumped after you. Your fall had given you a ghastly gash in your scalp. He feared you were dead, but when you jolted up he could do nothing but cry and thank whatever God had given you a second chance. 

Killer Croc:

Waylon was aware of how fond he was of you, but it wasn't until he thought you'd died that he wanted more than anything to spoil you with love. You'd collapsed just in front of him, blocking him from enemy gunfire. He'd panicked and dropped just beside you, cradling you in his arms and ducking behind a car to shield you. Your wounds were only minor, but to Waylon it was like you'd died and returned. 

Harley Quinn:

Dark-minded nights were not an unusual occurrence, but sometimes it was worse for you than it was the day before. Sometimes you get too far out of your mind to get back on your own... 

To Harleen's horror, coming into your room for a late-night check up, she found you bleeding out in your shower, a pen in your hand. She could not reveal to her colleagues her relationship with you, leaving her only option: wait. She spent several hours awake pacing outside of your infirmary room in terror, hating the fact that she was unable to do a single thing.  

June Moone:

As a soldier, battle wounds became a normal thing in your life. But...they weren't usually inflicted by other-worldly beings possessing your girlfriend. Enchantress had attacked you in the dead of night, a stunt she'd never even attempted to pull in the previous months you'd watched over June, but it seemed she was growing bold. June woke up to a very, very bruised you seated on the couch beside her. Horrified, she frantically called your higher-ups, all the while feeling as though she was a danger to you. 

Enchantress:

In a war that Enchantress started with you by your side, she'd never expected you to allow yourself to be vulnerable enough to be injured. Her brother, recently freed, felt threatened by your ancient aura(as men usually are). In the short instant that Enchantress had brought you to meet her brother, he'd immediately snarled and smacked you, flinging you into building debris. Enchantress would've done something, but it seemed you were well enough pissed to solve your own issues.

Next

[grizzersmamma]

Son of Zmei | Fae AU | Nikto x F!Reader | Part 2.

Overview: Nikto confronts Mr. Petrov & Reader gets a visitor who drops some new information.

A/N: Second part babyyyyy! I’m on a roll now. Shorter than the last part, but the next one should be a bit longer. Continuation of my little Nikto fic based on the Fae AU by @ghouljams​

Warnings: Murder, Arson.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Prev Part | Next Part

The man kneeling at Nikto’s feet is quivering like a leaf in the breeze, head pressed to the floor in a deeply exaggerated bow. It does little to quell the simmering rage that burns just under his skin, leaving him to huff out a plume of smoke in his agitation. Clearly, this pathetic excuse for a human doesn’t understand what kind of situation he’s in.  

“Mighty Zmei, forgive me for failing you,” the irritating cretin pleads, “allow me to try again, I can do better!”

He can’t help the growl that rumbles out of him, one of his lips curling to show off his pointed canine. “You offered a life, willingly given, in exchange for your own,” he hisses, starting to circle the human, “you think I cannot take a human if I desire one?” Petrov jumps at his sharp tone, mouth opening and closing silently.  

“O-Of course not, I-”

“You think I am a fool? You would try to deceive me? To break your word by offering the life of another who has not agreed?” His words get louder with each passing syllable, sharp teeth now on full display in a horrifying snarl.  

“Never, All Powerful Zmei! I could never hope to trick someone so wise!” the coward grovels, stinking of fear.  

The black shepherd dog snaps it’s jaws at the man’s face and the raven, perched on one of the chairs, caws angrily. The animals are growing restless at the clear disrespectful behaviour of the human, goading Nikto into action. “We have given you a chance to repay us, the deal is off.”  

It seems Petrov has some spine, for the man straightens, “merciful Zmei, to throw away the years of work I have dedicated to you, it would-it would be foolish!”

The heads of all three dark figures, man, bird and dog, all snap to glare at the human. “We are no fool!” their voices join together, speaking as one entity. Their bodies have begun to shift, twisted and drawing together, the lines between the three different creatures growing blurred. “We require your services no longer.”  

Minutes later, Nikto, the dog and the raven stand together in the street. They watch as the house belonging to Petrov burns steadily, flames casting dancing shadows across the nearby houses. The smoke does not bother them, nor the heat.  

Eventually, they turn to leave.  

The raven flies off ahead, while the man and dog walk. “Return to the female. She is oblivious, too fragile to be near so many Fae,” he spits the word in disgust.  

“Would such a weak creature be a suitable mate?” the dog replies, an exact copy of Nikto’s voice.  

He simply snorts, “we are strong enough for the two of us,” he says simply. The two part ways, Nikto to return to their home and the dog to return to his duty protecting their newest prize.  

When the sun rises, you wake with a large, furry body pressed up against you. It startles you, until you recall the events of yesterday. You had been exhausted after returning home, emotionally and physically drained from needing to walk so far back to your home after enduring such a terrifying encounter. The dog had refused to leave when you’d tried to shoo it away and, reluctantly, you decided to allow the canine into your home.  

It would be wrong for you to abandon the poor dog after it had followed you all the way back to your house. The man who owned him was a creep, but you couldn’t find it in you to leave an innocent dog out in the street where anything could happen to it.  

The dog in question wriggles about slightly to get comfortable, kicking you with big paws while whining loudly. Clearly, he was unhappy with you disturbing his rest, because he rolls over, putting his back to you with a rather dramatic sigh. It’s admittedly rather adorable, even if you don’t recall inviting the animal into your bed. The blanket you’d put on the floor for him is untouched, clearly not good enough for the massive ball of black fur.  

“You need to go home, buddy,” you mumble, stroking the animal’s silky fur. You know it’s not safe to have an unknown dog in your home at all, let alone sharing your bed, but you get the feeling you aren’t in any real danger.  

This thought is confirmed when the dog turns its head to try and nose at your fingers, offering them a small lick.  

When you finally gather the strength needed to get out of bed, the dog is more than happy to follow after you, hopping down from the mattress and onto the floor with a loud thump. It treks through the house, patiently watching while you complete your morning routine.  

You don’t have any dog food in the house, so you offer him some leftovers from your dinner a few nights ago after ensuring there isn’t anything poisonous to dogs in it. He doesn’t seem to mind the food, snapping it up at rapid speed.  

Not needing to be at work (and not planning on going back), you’re sitting comfortably on the living room couch, a warm drink in hand, while your canine companion takes up the rest of the couch. You had attempted to tell him not to climb on the cushions, not wanting dog hair shedding all over everything, but your words fell on deaf ears. So now, you sit on the furthermost cushion with the dog resting its huge head on your thigh.  

After a little bit of Googling on your phone, you believe you’ve figured out what breed the dog is. He’s huge and fluffy, clearly built for a cold climate and likely a livestock guardian dog of some kind. It took a while, but you managed to narrow it down to a Caucasian shepherd thanks to the abundance of pictures on Google Images.  

He’s sweet, but you’re not sure you’d be able to afford to feed such a huge dog, especially now you’re abandoning your job. It would be best for you to drop the dog off at the local vet. He’s probably microchipped, and if not, you’re sure they’ll be able to track the owner down. Such a huge dog is probably fairly memorable to someone who will know how to find his owner.  

You’re startled from your peaceful morning by a knocking at your door.  

The dog leaps to his feet, scampering to the front door with a snarl on his face. He starts barking, pacing back and forth. You’re a little anxious to try and get between the dog and the door, but he thankfully seems to back off once you draw close.  

When you pull the door open, you’re met by a police officer. “Good morning, miss,” the man seems anxious, glancing warily at the massive dog growling at him from behind you.  

“Hi,” you greet slowly, unsure, “is there something I can help you with?”

After confirming your identity, the man sighs softly, offering you a sympathetic smile, “I’m very sorry, but I’m here to inform you that your employer, Mister Petrov unfortunately passed away last night.” You blink at that, swallowing nervously, but the man must not notice, for he continues, “there was a fire at his apartment block.”  

“Oh... that’s horrible...” you’re not sure how to respond to that, stunned.  

Were you responsible for what happened? Was the strange, masked man, Nikto, responsible? A nervous sweat breaks out across your forehead.  

“A lawyer will be around shortly to discuss the assets afforded to you.”

“The assets?” you asks.  

“Ah, yes, it appears Mister Petrov left you some of his assets in his will, miss,” the officer smiles, oblivious to your internal battle. He offers you a brief farewell that you numbly return before leaving you once more to your own devices.  

The dog offers you a bark, nudging at your side when you continue to stare after the officer’s retreating form, snapping you out of your stupor. With a deep sigh, you step back into your home and close the door. You gently lean your head against the door, taking a moment to collect yourself.  

When you turn around, the dog is staring at you intensely.  

“What?” you ask him with a snort, as though he could actually respond to you.  

“You are a strange human,” the dog says.  

You faint on the spot.  

[extinctspino]

Hi! I just read your raven fic and i loved it! Would you maybe like to do a part 2 to it?

Raven

Part 2

Part 1

Pairing: Wednesday x femreader

Wordcount: 900

Warnings: Blood, death

Author's note: I absolutely love writing things like this

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What's the plan?" You asked Wednesday once you morphed into yourself again. Ms. Weems was handling Thornhill so you and Wednesday were constructing a plan.

"We are gonna use this." Wednesday pulled out the needle filled with blue liquid that you had been able to steal from Thornhill's grasp.

You knew Tyler could arrive at the school at any given moment so you were sitting outside near the forest.

"So you're planning on killing him?" You knew you needed to end Tyler if you wanted to stop all the murders going around Jericho but it was still a bit foreign.

"We have to if we want to save this school." You nodded to Wednesday's true words although you wished there was another way.

A loud roar echoing through the forest made both of you snap out of your thoughts. "He's here." You whispered even though it was obvious.

"Did the sirens already finish their part?" You asked her to make sure there were no people left at the school. "We have to assume they did." Wednesday's answer didn't help or reassure you at all.

You were about to say something to her but the sound of heavy footsteps getting closer to you intervened. You transformed into your wolf in record time and bent down so that Wednesday could get on your back.

She reluctantly climbed on your back and held your fur to keep her balance. Your wolf had dark, smooth fur and was as big as a horse, if not, bigger.

You began running into the forest and away from the monstrous sounds that followed you. You felt Wednesday tightening her hold on you when you jumped over a random obstacle.

When you were sure you were far enough you hid behind a big tree and layed down. You were on edge and your ears perked up at every little sound.

"Calm down." Wednesday ran her hands through your fur, trying to calm you down. You automatically stuck your tongue out and basked in the feeling of her hands scratching your head.

"You have to distract him and when I get the chance I'll stab this needle into him." You snarled to show your disapproval of this plan. You didn't like the idea of Wednesday putting her life at risk like that.

"Don't underestimate me. I'm quite good at stabbing if I say so myself." You smiled at her or that's what you tried but that was a bit hard in your wolf form. It looked more like a big goofy grin with your tongue out. At least you got the message across.

Crack

A branch snapping in two caught your attention. You slowly moved away from your hiding spot and you saw... nothing?

You sniffed the air and there it was, the unfamiliar smell of rotten flesh. Another branch snapping entered your big ears, from above this time.

You looked up and...

thump

The hyde roared as it hit the ground, feet first. To say you were terrified was an understatement. But you had to do what you had to do.

You growled and bore your sharp teeth, warning him. Apparently, he didn't care because the next second he was slashing his claws across your face.

You recovered quickly and pounced on him. He tried to get you off but your weight held him down. You took this chance to sink your teeth into his neck.

He roared out in pain but that didn't stop you. Instead, you enjoyed his screams of terror as blood came spurting out of the wound. He didn't stop when Eugene was screaming, did he?

Your lust for his pain, made you miss the oncoming blow. His left fist came in contact with your body in full force. You got slammed into a tree and you layed there for a moment trying to regain your senses.

It was only when you made eye contact with Wednesday that the adrenaline set in. You forced yourself up and stared straight into his big, round eyes with your red ones.

He pulled back his arm and swung his claws but you were too fast and dodged it easily. While you were behind him you swiftly clawed at his back.

He roared and turned around to face you. You had a great idea in mind. You ran toward the nearest tree and of course, Tyler followed. Thanks to your speed and agility you were able to climb the tree and push yourself off of it, landing back on the ground behind Tyler.

You watched as he bashed himself into the tree which made the tree trunk shake. You smirked to yourself in victory when he fell flat on the ground, unmoving.

Wednesday speed-walked over to the hyde and jabbed the needle into his bloody neck. His body jerked upward and he roared one last time before he collapsed on the ground.

You felt bad for the sheriff - Tyler's father. He kept blaming the Nevermore students but in the end, it turned out to be his own - blood-related - son.

You trotted your way over to Wednesday with your tongue sticking out. You nuzzled your nose into her face but she pushed you away. You felt offended until you noticed your fur was practically drenched in blood. "That's going to leave a scar." Wednesday traced the gash on your wolf's face. You winced at the slight pain that went along with it.

"Don't worry, I will patch you up."

[otdiaftg]

The Raven King - Chapter Nine

Day: Saturday, October 14th Time: 3:10 PM EST

"Dad liked partying it up with the other rich shits of New York," Matt said, "but his party favors were drugs. He let me—encouraged me, even—to try whatever I wanted so I would fit in. When Mom realized what was going on she took time off from the circuit to get me clean. We thought I was okay until I started here. The juniors we had back then were into some pretty heavy things, and I was tempted. The only way I stayed sober was by hiding from them. Last year the monsters joined our team. It took Andrew all of two weeks to figure out something wasn't right with me, and he took it upon himself to fix things. They invited me out with them to Columbia. When we got there Andrew gave me speedballs." Neil's stomach bottomed out. "He what?" "He didn't make me take them," Matt was quick to say. "He just offered them, and I was drunk and stupid and desperate enough to say yes." "Coach should have kicked him off the team." "He should have, except Andrew cleared it with Matt's mother first," Dan said, jaw tightening a little in old anger. "She knew Matt was having a hell of a time here and she wanted him to kick the habit for good. Andrew promised he could help, so she gave him her blessing. She flew in for the summer to help walk Matt through withdrawal and asked Coach not to punish Andrew. She even offered to pay Coach for the trouble." "But—" "No harm, no foul," Allison said carelessly. When Neil stared at her, she gestured at Matt. "You can't really have an opinion on this because you weren't here then. You didn't see what Matt was like. It was pathetic. He couldn't even look any of us in the face. Look at him now. The monster's methods might have been a little extreme but they worked." "You're not really okay with this," Neil said to Matt. "What if it backfired? What if you hadn't gotten back up again?" "Andrew had too much invested in Matt's success to let him fail," Renee said, speaking slowly like she was choosing her words with great care. Neil guessed she knew Andrew's reasons better than anyone else did, given herfriendship with him. "I don't know if they've talked to you about Aaron's history, but you understand Andrew's, don't you? He's not allowed to fight his addiction. Watching Matt struggle was very hard on them both." Her reference to Aaron didn't make sense at first, but then Neil remembered. On his second trip out to Eden's Twilight he asked Andrew why he bothered with cracker dust. Andrew said they'd picked the habit up for Aaron's sake. Just the other week Nicky mentioned that Aaron used his mother's drugs, though he hadn't specified what all she'd been into. Chances were cracker dust was a paltry substitute. Watching Matt crumble under temptation would have wrecked hell on Aaron's own sobriety. Neil was starting to rethink how apathetic Andrew was about Aaron's life. Matt misinterpreted Neil's silence. "You're a year too late to get mad on my behalf, Neil. Trust me: I'm okay. I'm more than okay, really. I thought rehab was bad the first time through. The second time almost killed me. It definitely killed any chance of me being tempted ever again. I'm clean for good and I feel better than ever." Neil needed more time to figure out how to feel about this, but it wasn't his life, so he said only, "It's your fight."

Art used with permission by rainbowd00dles. Thank you @rainbowd00dles

[littlemisssquiggles]

…Sooooo…about that RWBY V9 EPILOGUE ANIMATIC…..

Not lying to tell you, I honestly forgot about RTX this year because I’ve been focused on other things these days. However, thanks to the almighty power of Twitter and the RWBY FNDM community, this squiggle meister was able to check out the V9 Epilogue Animatic that dropped at this year’s panel.

While I’m disappointed there was no announcement for RWBY V10 being greenlit, at least fans were given something to munch on with the featured animatic.

And y’know what folks?

If this animatic was an original draft for the ending of V9 then I am…

… SO FREAKING GLAD that this animatic never made it into the final cut for V9!

Because, for me, not only do I find the final ending of V9 perfect as it is with where it left the story off but also, some revisions need to be done for this epilogue ya’ll.

Don’t get me wrong. I thought this animatic was pretty good. I liked that it confirmed everyone’s shared theory that the others thought RWBYJ had died during the Fall of Atlas. At least that was confirmed to be canon.

However; if there is one part I would love to be revised for this epilogue, it would have to be the final moment after Raven (surprise, surprise but not really cause people theorized that shit since V8) brings RWBYJ to Vacuo and we get to see Nora, Ren and Oscar react to seeing their friends return from the literal dead and…Oscar is just standing there with the Oz-cane…smiling?

But it’s not a smile of deeper emotion. It’s not even his usual soft smile that he always gives Rubes.

Yes, yes, yes I know what ya’ll might be thinking---Squiggles, dear, please, it’s only a rough animatic. It’s not that deep sis---I KNOW…but STILL, bear with me on this one folks.

This is the closest thing to a RWBY V10 crumb that us fans will have to cling onto until the show gets greenlit…whenever. IF EVER.

This animatic is the closest thing to a potential V10 teaser that we have right now. It’s all we have right so if there are FNDM fam members picking it apart and overanalyzing it, can you really blame em?

IT’S ALL WE HAVE for V10.

So pardon me if the Pinehead Rosegarden shipper in me is a lil bummed out by this one shot of a rough, possible first draft animatic of an episode that could easily be the first episode of a possible next season of RWBY.

If I had to imagine a final version of this scene, I could easily see Oscar looking at Ruby softly. But even still…that’s…not the reaction I was expecting for their inevitable reunion.

If  you had told me that that’s not Oscar and is actually Oz in control, I would have a better chance at believing you with that because I am in disbelief that Ruby would return from everyone believing that she and the others had died during the fall of Atlas and…Oscar sees Ruby alive and well for the first time in who knows how long….maybe weeks or a month at best and his reaction is just a normal smile?

Not even a tearful smile or a shocked look like Nora. Just a casual smile before we cut back to Ruby’s final smile, like she was on the verge of tears before it fades to black.

Really? That’s it?  

NAAAAAAAAAH! Nah! Send that shit back to the boards for a second draft.

 #NOTMYRGREUNION

Again, I am fully aware that this is only an animatic and a bigger, more focused emotional reunion could easily happened after this scene in another “episode” if you look at this animatic as being like the end of the first or second episode of a potential RWBY V10.

But still, I can’t help but feel bummed by this a bit. At least the RG shipper in me is a little bummed.

If anything, I’m better off looking at this animatic as a precursor to a better more emotional and PROPER reunion between Ruby and Oscar.

That part I can dream about.

In the mean time, pardon my mini rant cause it’s been a while since I’ve talked about RWBY and I wanted to share my brief thoughts on the animatic for anyone who was curious about my thoughts on it.

~LMS (2023)

[cyn-write]

“The Sun Caught in her Raven Hair”

Note - My first request!! Thank you @fellowhonesttwst, I really enjoyed writing this! If anyone else has request please read my rules and send them to my ask box!

Prompt: Rollo has been eyeing you since your arrival, seeing you as the diamond amongst coals. At the Ball, he corners you into a dance, but your BF is not going to let this slide...

Pairing: F!reader x Leona, Floyd, and Vil (Separate)

Warnings: Possessive behavior, suggestive, manipulation and obsessive (Rollo); established relationship, romantic, swearing (Leona and Floyd's parts); violence (Floyd)

Notes: This is part of my Glorious Masquerade series! So if you want to read the other parts of this series staring different characters click the links below:

“She Blazes Me Beyond All Control” - Azul, Idia, and Mallues

“I Feel her, I See Her” - Riddle, Deuce, Ruggie, and Jamil

“Her Smoldering Eyes Still Scorch My Soul” - Rook, Epel, Silver, and Sebek

“Heaven’s Light” - Rollo

Prologue

"Who might you be miss?"

Y/n gave a kind smile and nodded her head in greeting "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you," she stayed next to Trein as she was there as his assistant.

"Yuu is our magicless perfect of Ramshackle. She will be working as my assistant throughout the trip," Trein added.

She felt Rollo's eyes scan her and, unlike his greetings to the rest, he held out a hand. Being polite, she offered her hand as well, and he lifted it to his lips, grazing her knuckles quickly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, y/n. I understand it must be difficult, being surrounded by mages every second of the day. I hope you get a chance to relax this trip."

Y/n blushed at the motion and bit her lower lip. All the while, she could feel her boyfriend glaring daggers at her and Rollo.

"I-I'll do my best..." Y/n replied.

Throughout the entire trip, Rollo seemed to gravitate towards y/n and used every excuse to isolate her from the group. They chatted about her difficulties at NRC and of the festival. Due to her being Trein's assistant and the constant reminders to behave, she and her boyfriend had little time together.

This all accumulated at the Masquerade. Rollo had given Y/n a proper dress for the occasion instead of the attire his counsel had chosen. The (color) fabric decadently adorned her figure and stunned the NRC boys with her beauty. But before her boyfriend could ask for a dance, Rollo stole y/n away. He whisked her to the dance floor, and they started chatting.

At this point, Y/N's boyfriend has had enough of the student council president, but what sends him over the edge is when he takes you to the balcony and dares suggest the worst:

"Y/n, stay here with me." Y/n turned quickly on her heels to look at Rollo in shock and confusion, "Those fools at NRC do not deserve your purity. You belong here. with me." He has her pinned against the balcony, "This is your sanctuary."

Y/n pushed Rollo away slightly and spoke up, "Thank you for the offer, but I have no intention of leaving NRC. It is difficult at times but I wouldn't have it any other way. Now if you excuse me, I want to go back to the ball."

Rollo grabbed y/n's wrist and pulled her against him. "It's because of him, isn't it? He has bewitched you!" He pinned her between the balcony wall and him. "Those fiends have enchanted you, but I will free you from those chains and show you salvation! No matter the cost!"

Leona Kingscholar

“Get your filthy mitts off her.” Leona growled.

Rollo turned from his cornered prey to the hungry beast. Leona was already pissed that he had to attend the ball in princely clothes, but the sight of his herbivore pinned by a knock-off, overly righteous Riddle made his mood darken even more. With a few lazy strides, Leona was now cornering Rollo. He pulled his herbivore out from under the bastard. Once she was safe behind him. Leona leaned in close to the righteous ass.

"You listen close, 'cause I'm only going to say this once." He snarled. He could smell the fear on Rollo as he physically overpowered the man. "When she says no. You listen. You don't. You deal with me."

Leona leaned back and offered Rollo an exit. "Scram. While I'm feelings nice."

Rollo did not hesitate to leave, straightening up his clothes as he did. And he did not dare look back.

Once Rollo vacated the premise, Leona turned to the perfect and enveloped her in his warm arms. He was a beacon of warmth in the bitter night wind.

Leona didn't say anything, the way his arms gently enveloped y/n close to his body, as close as two bodies could be, and the relief in his shoulders spoke for him. He was so scared that she would say yes. That something would happen. That she would be hurt. All those fears released into the hug.

Y/n also releases all her anxieties into the hug. The fear of Rollo doing something to her to keep her there. The fear no one would get to her in time. All the what ifs... but Leona washes away all the what it's with an embrace. She was safe.

After a moment, Leona leaned back and caressed y/n's soft cheek, "What am I gonna do with ya Herbivore?"

Y/n shook her head and replied, "Such eloquent words from a handsome prince."

Leona chuckled and stepped back, "Don't remind me... but if I'm a prince, I guess that makes you my princess?"

Y/n nodded and said, "Guess so.."

Leona looked back to the ball and heard the others calling their names, "Well then, Will the Princess Dance with her Handsome Prince?" He offered his arm to the y/n with the suggestion of grins.

Y/n nodded and laced her arms in his, "Of course, your highness."

Floyd Leech

“Ya really wanna die. don’t ya Hammerhead.”

Floyd loomed over Rollo. Neither knew how he got there without notice, but both Rollo and y/n nearly pissed themselves at his appearance.

Floyd grabbed Rollo by the collar of his uniform and pushed him against the balcony. Face out, looking over the railing at the concrete road underneath. Floyd held onto Rollo's collar with a death grip as he pushed him against the edge.

"LEECH! WHAT IN THE SEVENS NAME ARE YOU DOING!?" Rollo yelled in fear as he looked down death.

"FOLYD!" Y/n called and tried to snap him out of this.

"You’ve been leerin’ at her all week. You’ve been taken away my shrimps time. Ya hog her durn’ the dance. Then ya try ‘n take her from me. Permanently." Floyd was seeing red. He forced Rollo against the balcony and could push him over at any minute, “What’s worse. Ya hurt her. No. One. Hurts. MY. Shrimpy.”

Rollo was sweating. Floyd was mad. And Y/n was trying to snap him out of it. “Floyd! He didn’t hurt me! I’m Okay! I promise! He won’t steal you from me, no one can!”

Floyd looked over at y/n at this. He saw the look in her beautiful (e/c) eyes. They were full of worry, but unwavering. “Please let him go. If you push him over then we will be separated. You did what you needed to, I’m safe, I’m here, and I’m with you. Please let him go and we can go dance together, please…”

Floyd looked back and forth between y/n and Rollo. The adrenaline subsided and he stepped back, letting Rollo go. Once release, Rollo took a few deep breaths and clutched his chest. Shrimpy ran into Floyd’s arms and the two embraced. He gave her a big squeeze and held her close. She was okay.

“You-“ Rollo caught his breath, “You’re going to pay for that. I will have you expelled from Night Raven and destroy you and everyone at NRC-“

“I would beg to differ,” From the door, the smooth voice of Azul broke the building tension, “Before we do anything rash, I think we need to chat.”

At Azul’s side was Jade with his unnerving smile looking Rollo up and down like a tuna. Azul walked to Rollo and nodded to Floyd and y/n, “They band is play lovely music, you two enjoy the ball, dance, we will be down in a minute.” Underneath the business smile, Azul was fuming, “we will talk later.”

Understanding the message, Floyd looked down at his Shrimpy and picked her up princess style, “Let’s go shrimpy, this is boring.”

Y/n nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck. As they walked out of the balcony, Jade closed the door behind them with a menacing grin, “Have fun~”

Y/n didn’t want to think of what was happening outside, she didn’t want to think of Rollo. His words haunted her mind, “…you belong here, with me. This is your sanctuary.” Floyd did not go to the ballroom, instead he found an alcove and sat down with y/n in his lap. He took her arms off his neck n’s inspected her wrist with such delicacy. There were slight purple marks where Rollo held her.

He brushed his thumb over the marks and brought them to his lips, kissing the bruise softly. Dispute his rough exterior, Floyd was incredibly gentle when it came to those he loves. “Did he hurt you anywhere else?”

Y/n shook her head and leaned against his large chest, “…thank you…” she said softly, “I have no clue what would’ve happened if you didn’t intervene.”

Floyd held shrimpy closer and looked thoughtful for a moment, “I wasn’t going to kill him… just scare him…”

“I know,” She replied and curled closer.

“I was just…” he couldn’t find the word to describe what he was feeling, what he felt when he saw Rollo so close to her, when he made her the offer, when he pinned her. It was a mixture of rage and terror that he couldn’t contain. Then he saw y/n look at him with those pleading eyes and realized she felt the same.

“You wanted to protect me,” she said and kissed his cheek, “you where my knight in shinning armor, and saved me from the wicked student counsel president.”

Floyd smiled and leaned his head against her’s “I guess I am…” then he chuckled and smiled, “Guess that makes you Lady Shrimpy~”

Y/n giggled as well, “Guess so,”

For a quiet moment, the two cuddled. Enjoying the others embrace. Then the orchestra played a familiar tune and the couple looked at each other with the same idea. Floyd stood up and gently put shrimpy on the ground. He then bowed dramatically and held out a hand, mirroring a storybook painting.

“Lady Shrimpy, may I have I have this dance?”

Vil Schoenheit

Vil had seen this scene a million times on stage, screen, and page. The monologue was almost word for word one of his own; and Vil hates nothing more than a thief.

Vil clapped and grabbed the villain and princess’ attention. He walked forward in his purple and maroon masquerade garb. His mask in place made him look like a classic movie hero like Zorro, Dread Pirate Robert, or the Musketeers of old. “How clique, the high-rank Nobel, in a delusion of lust, corner’s the damsel and forces himself on to her, making her choose between him or another preverbal prison.”

Vil was a few mere steps from Rollo, and with the aid of his heels, loomed over Rollo with head held high, “I guess that makes me the masked, debonair hero. Stopping the villain just in time for the final duel.” He draped his magic pen and held it like a sword ready to parre, “Now, shall we duel or discuss this like civil beings?”

Rollo release y/n from his grip and held his hands up in defeat, “There is no need for the hostility, I am a civil man.”

Once release, the perfect slid away from her captor and rushed to Vil’s side. Once there, Vil placed an arm around her waist and held her close. To outsider’s the couple looked like a movie poster. He sheathed his magic pen and turned to look at his dearest. He caressed her cheek and quickly checked her for injury. Other than a small bruise around her wrist, she seemed fine. He looked back at Roll and glared at the incompetent villain who dare thought he could steal his beloved.

“A civil man would not threaten a lady in such a manner. He would also have the common sense not to go after a taken women, or maybe that was not clear enough.” Vil retorted, “Perhaps I need to make a more gallent effort in displaying my affection.”

Suddenly, Vil spun y/n into a deep dip and kissed her passionately in front of Rollo. He spun her up again and held her close, wrapping both arms around her and holding her close. “There, that should do it~”

The perfect was out of breath from the sudden, deep, passionate kiss. Rollo curled his lip in disgust. He took out his handkerchief and held it against his mouth. “No need. I get the message.” He started to walk back to the main doors, “I’ll take my leave. Y/n if you change your mind, Nobel Bell’s doors are always open to you.” He smiled at y/n one last time before leaving as if nothing had transpired.

Once Rollo left, Vil loosened his grip and run his thumb underneath y/n’s lip. “Are you alright?”

Y/n nodded and smiled, “Thank you, I know you’re not a fan of public displays of affection but it means a lot.”

“All that matters is your safety.” He said and fished two lipstick out of his pocket. He held her face as he fixed the smudging on his dearest lips, “Besides, it was nice to play the hero for once.”

After he finished, he admired his work and her lips as she said, “You will always be a hero in my eyes.”

He smiled and kissed his dearest again, softly this time. “and you will always be my dearest princess,” he said, his voice full of earnest.

The music inside swelled and an idea brewed in Vil’s mind. In the same manner as classic bandit heroes, Vil flourished his cape, kneeled before y/n, grasped her hand and asked, “My Lady, will you be my princess for this night?”

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

Note: Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more characters in this scenario or these characters in different scenarios, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

[4rainynite]

EAH Dorm Headcanons pt 19

Helga & Jackie

One's a lost traveler with a sweet tooth and the other's a cold-hearted ex- criminal.

Both these girls have mean streaks in them! While Helga will lie and act all innocent, Jackie will be straight forward and take anything from you by force or trickery.

I honestly believe Helga & Jackie would not get along due to both are the leaders of their duos and would butt heads with one another.

Helga's side of the dorm:

Helga is the future Hansel, and she has a rep around the school for her sweet tooths and lies. The Crumb cousins are Headmaster Grimm's lackeys and will worship him to levels even Apple White won't cross. When, the cousins aren't following the headmaster you can find them antagonizing students with evil destinies (Raven & Ginger) or stuffing their faces with sweets.

I can see the decor on Helga's side of the dorm similar to gingerbread house (heck, might even be made of gingerbread), with candy and pastry themed furniture that lean heavily on the pastel color scheme.

Helga has many antique gumball machines and canisters filled with candy. Helga makes it clear that no one is allowed to her candy except for Gus, even then she is stingy with her treats.

With all the yelling she does, Helga has cough drops in her dorm. On hand for when she feels her throat going raw.

Helga totally has a mini fridge -No! A full-size fridge in her dorm to store her candy and other sweets.

She uses the floorboards to hide snacks and has many hiding places on her side of the dorm.

In the books Helga and Gus had green in their color scheme and hiking boots before they appeared in the show. So, there are hints of green in the furniture and a huge hiking boot collection.

Jackie's side of the dorm:

Jackie is a snow elf who spent her days along with her brother Northwind working at a snowflake factory that was extremely boring for the two. The two tried to take over the kingdom in 'Epic Winter' only to fail. Sometime later the two were given a second chance (like Courtly) to either continue being prisoners at The Top of the World or attend Ever After High School and do community service there (they picked the latter). Jackie only accepted to get away from manual labor (and because Northwind wanted to go).

Jackie takes great pride and her culture, so she wears traditional 'The Top of the World' clothing and brings trinkets to remind her of home.

Jackie is one of the few students who brought furniture from home to the dorms.

In her free time see likes to make snow people and other arts and crafts as a hobby she picked up at school.

Seeing how sporty her outfit is I can see Jackie being into Winter sports like snowboarding, skiing, bobsledding, and etc so she keeps sports equipment in her dorm.

Due to their ability to transform into animals the twins don't have pets, but if they did it would be penguins (because they look like tiny butlers).

Jackie owns a coffee/ hot chocolate machine that she keeps in her dorm (Helga is forbidden to use it).

[countrymusiclover]

4 - Blonde Friends

Part 5

Gemini Runaway

@dragonixfrye

Boarding House

Damon slammed down the bourbon in his glass quickly hearing what Klaus referred to as the save Elena gang coming into the house. Caroline flipped her hair, stomping down the stairs. “Damon, what was so important that you had to send almost twenty phone calls?”

He threw his head back grumbling. “Oh I’m sorry blondie but I thought it was important to tell everyone that there is a new witch in town that straight up threw me off the hybrid's front porch when I had asked her name.”

“Did she say what type of witch she was?” Bonnie asked to come into the room with Elena.

Damon glared at her. “Were you not listening when I said she launched me off the porch before I could find anything else out!”

Stefan got up from the couch slumping his shoulders. “Alright Damon calm down. Why exactly are you worried about. I mean you don’t usually have a good track record with them. But what exactly is so important about this one?”

Damon held one his mouth not actually knowing what to say next and to everyone’s surprise it was Caroline who spoke up for him. “Because she can take away your strength and turn it into magic somehow.”

“You know something about her, blondie. Don’t you dare stop talking about everyone’s lives now.” The raven haired vampire spat in her direction.

She crossed her arms over her chest rolling her eyes at him. “I don’t know anything else but she came out of the Grill with Klaus and he looked like he wanted to rip her heart out of her chest. She grabbed my shoulder and I saw her hand turn red. Next thing we knew she was gone and had completely disappeared. I went home a little weak so I assumed it was her doing.”

“Bonnie, do you know any type of witches that can do that?” Stefan asked the witch of their group.

She shrugged her shoulders eyeing him. “I can look through the family grimoires but as far as I know the only way a witch wouldn’t have their own power is if she was turned into a vampire.”

“Do you think Klaus would use her to come after me?” Elena asks knowing that they hybrid wanted to make his own army but he needed her blood to do so.

Damon poured some more bourbon sitting the glass down on the table beside the large fireplace. “It’s Klaus, Elena. He doesn’t care about anything except getting what he wants. We need to find a way to put down a witch that can take away our strengths.”

“Wait a second. Do we really have to view her as an enemy?” The blonde questioned, raising her hand slightly in the air.

Elena turned to her friend. “What do you mean?”

“I mean she’s clearly scared in a new place and we have assumed she is an enemy. We haven’t even given her a chance to defend herself. Don’t you think we should get to know her first?” She explains simply.

Damon grumbled. “And then we will all skip down the street singing zippy dada right before she murders us all!”

“Caroline’s right.” Stefan declared moments after. “Since she has met you once you should try and get close to her.” She nodded hoping that it was the right thing to do.

Klaus’s Mansion

Staring out the window I was completely bored just sitting in my bedroom in this large house. Rebekakh was roaming the town and Klaus was off in another state for who knew how long. I didn’t feel like leaving the house even though I had put a hidden spell around myself so my family couldn’t find me. “You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself, Raelyn.”

“Who the hell is there? Show yourself now!” Whipping my head around, I gasped not seeing anyone in the bedroom. But I could swear that I could hear a voice that I recognized. Blinking my eyes there was a figure with black hair and familiar eyes forming to stand in front of me.

The woman paused in front of me when she flashed me a kind smile. “Hi Raelyn.”

“Jo! I’m so happy to see you -“ I rushed forward to hug my cousin until I realized that she wasn’t physically here in front of me. “Wait, how are you here right now?”

She shrugged her shoulders responding back. “Astral projection. I can see that you did the spell I taught you quite well. It was almost impossible for me to find you.”

“Have they started looking for me at all. I am trying to not make friends here but there’s my brother’s outgoing personality to talk with everyone that is fighting against me every day.” I grumbled used to being a little shy until I got to really know someone. Jacob on the other hand wasn’t afraid of going up and talking with everyone.

She walked across towards the bed sitting down on it. "I can't stay for long. I need to place my magic back inside the knife I placed it in. But as far as I know they haven't come looking. I am just here to say I am sorry about Jacob and if you need anything you can call me."

"Thanks Jo. I'd hug you if I could right now. You're basically the only family member who talks to me at the moment…I'm too terrified to face my mom and dad." Sitting down beside her on the bed I slumped my shoulders until I heard the front door closed and by that point my cousin quickly disappeared from my sight.

"There you are, little witch. I was afraid that my brother Niklaus had swept you off your feet and got you to tag along with him wherever he was going." The blonde original vampire responded back, dragging some outfits behind her that were hanging off her arm. "Now let's talk about getting you some new wardrobe because frankly I think you need to change into some different clothes. You've had the same ones on for two days."

Watching her lay the outfits down I rose to my feet eyeing her quietly for a few seconds. "Why do you think I would run off with your brother…I barely know anything about him except he has a lot of siblings, is a hybrid and that he enjoys painting."

"I'll tell you some other things about him. He has a temper and thinks that he is alone. But he does anything to protect his family and he respects a vow that we made a thousand years ago." She declares handing me some ripped blue jeans and a white tank top. She had paired it with some black combat boots and a black jacket to match.

Shrugging on the jacket I looked myself over and had to admit that she had picked well. Brushing my hair over my shoulders I pulled the blue crystal necklace out from underneath my tank top. My father may have given me the necklace but I knew it really belonged to my brother. "Thanks Bex. So what exactly did you have in mind?"

“I felt like showing you this town. I might even get you a date to the dance coming up if you want.” She beamed, taking my hand in hers dragging me downstairs and we needed up at the Grill seeing the boy named Matt that had offered me a ride into town on my first night here.

Sitting down at the bar I pushed hair behind my ear and we both got two shots of alcohol. She downed it quickly before I heard someone walking over to us. “Hey Raelyn, I was hoping I would find you here. I was thinking you could use a friend since you're new here.”

“Caroline right, I thought you would be afraid of me after what I did to you.” I pointed out to the other blonde standing in front of me.

Rebekah rolled her eyes at her drifting towards the human boy who was a football player at the high school from what I had heard. “She already has a friend, Caroline. Now if you don’t mind I am trying to find her a date to the dance.”

“Well I am not going anywhere. If Raelyn wants me to leave she can tell herself not you.” Caroline responded sitting down on the other side of me where I was in between the two blonde vampires. “So what exactly was it that you did to me the other night? I am just curious and I don’t want to offend you or anything.”

Tapping my fingers on the glass in my hands I shrugged my shoulders. “My mother called it siphoning. I was born a witch but I don’t have my own powers. I have to take the magic from any supernatural object or creature….I’m sorry for siphoning you. I was just afraid of Klaus that night.”

“It’s okay. I get it that it was for self defense.” She nodded watching me take a sip of my drink.

The original vampire entered the conversation between us once more. “Well I can tell you that my brother and the rest of my family are a pain in the behind. Now where did you get that necklace? I must say it is gorgeous.”

“Oh it used to be my brothers…my twin brother until I was forced to kill him without my mother telling me the truth." I sucked in a breath feeling some tears slipping down my face. Raising my hand up I wiped them away until I felt Caroline place a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Raelyn. That's horrible." She muttered.

Rebekah sent me a weak smile. "No one should ever make siblings hurt one another."

Gripping the necklace in my hands I shook past the emotions that it would bring me. "So are we going shopping sometime soon?” I changed the conversation, making both of them smile at me. I haven’t had any friends until this point so I am hopefully letting them into my life. Maybe this one pony town as Klaus called wouldn’t be so bad.

Comments really appreciated ❤️