#ruby's outfit was a pain

[wereh0gz]

Tbh I don't really need an in-universe reason for Ruby to change their appearance with this redesign but also I really like to think Mel and Max were like "bro you've had that same old outfit and hairstyle for way too long. You need a makeover" and took them out shopping and did their hair

[rubys-domain]

god i'm actually so worried that my f2p career in enstars is gonna end with love letter yuta

[rustingcat]

The moment Kara heard Sam was coming to town she knew there would be trouble.

Not that she had anything against the woman, quite the opposite, she absolutely adored Sam. But her visits tend to be a bit… chaotic.

It started not long after Ruby turned old enough to babysit Esme by herself. Sam would fly to National city for a weekend, leaving Ruby at the Danvers-Olsen house for a paid sleepover with Esme, and dragged the superfriends to the nearest Bar to get them all shitfaced drunk.

Kara would not easily forget waking up on the roof of a ferris wheel once, wearing a clown outfit and hugging a pogo stick. She did forget the events leading up to that point due to the large amount of alcohol she consumed the night before.

Kara briefly toyed with the idea to visit her parents on Argo for the duration of Sam's visit, or at the very least her first night. But she hasn't seen her in so long, and with Kara's very busy schedule she decided it's a good opportunity as any to take some time off and enjoy a night out with her friends. She just hoped there would be no stumbling drunkenly into any more theme parks.

That's why she was very surprised to learn that Sam's new adventurous plan was a simple game night at Kara’s apartment.

With alcohol, of course.

Kara kept her drinking at a minimum, just enough to get some nice buzz out of it, but a far cry from a complete black out. She wasn't the only one, most participants had seemingly decided to avoid a similar fate. Much to Sam's disappointment, Kara assumed, since she kept asking them to do shots.

After a few tame games of Settlers of Catan and a round of pictionary, Sam decided to spice things up a bit. They started with a game of 'would you rather' that slowly evolved into an open question format where everyone answered the same questions.

"Favourite… type of apple?" It was Nia's turn to ask, she spent almost 5 minutes struggling to find a question before settling on one.

"Really? That's the best you got?" Sam asked disappointed.

"I was panicking! That's the only thing I could think of!" Nia said defensively, her arms raising in the air in surrender. "Do you have anything better?"

"You know it," Sam said with a sly smile.

"Go ahead then."

"Alright," Sam clapped her hands, moving her gaze from one person to the next slowly before she continued. "Not including your actual partner, who would you marry out of the people in this room?"

"And I can't choose Nia?" Brainy asked, his hands deep in Nia's hair, drunkenly caressing her hair between his fingers. He may have gotten slightly drunker than most by trying to be nice and accepting most of Sam's shots.

"That would be against the rules." Sam smiled and twisted the wine glass in her hand.

"That's preposterous!" He exclaimed. Nia's head recoiled with a small groan of pain as Brainy accidentally hit her head. "There is no possibility in the multiverse I would pick anyone but her!" He announced, Nia remembered to move her head in time to avoid the second hit.

"You're no fun," Sam rolled her eyes. "Nia?" She smirked.

"Only Brainy, of course." She proclaimed loudly. Brainy rewarded her with a kiss on the forehead while she mouthed 'Kelly' under her breath.

Sam winked to her in return, while the rest tried to hide their chuckle.

"Kelly, you're next for no particular reason," Sam turned to her with a smile.

"Nia," Kelly replied with a matching smile. "For no particular reason."

"Alex?" Sam changed the topic before Brainy could interject.

"You know, I think we could've worked out," she weaved her hand towards Sam's direction.

"Yeah, we could've had some fun," Sam smirked back at her. "Alright, Kara, what about you?" She turned to face her.

"Lena," Kara answered without much thinking.

"Well, she is rich, it makes sense," Sam said under the rim of her glass.

"Rich wife is very convenient," Alex nodded in agreement.

"I'm not choosing her because of her money." The idea of reducing Lena to her finance, a walking wallet if you will, infuriated her. She was so much more than that. Kara put down her empty glass and stood up a bit faster than she intended.

"Then why her?" Sam challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Kara blinked in surprise, was it not obvious? "Because she is amazing! She's brilliant, smart, kind and… pretty," she added with a small blush creeping up her neck. "Also a great listener and problem solver, which is important in a relationship. And-"

"Yeah okay, we got it," Alex cut her off.

Kara gave her a mocking look in response, eyebrows squinted and tongue sticking out as she walked up to the kitchen to refill her glass.

"Lena, who is your pick?" Sam continued with the game.

"Kara, of course." The way she said it, as if there were no other options, filled Kara with warmth she was not expecting. She also wasn't sure why it made her smile so much, but it did. Then again they were best friends, it would be awkward if they were not to pick each other, right?

"Hey Kara, can you get me a beer?" Alex called out.

Kara studied her for a second. "No, you were being annoying."

"Wha- Kara!" Alex whined.

"Get one yourself," Kara shrugged, and poured herself a glass of white wine.

"Kara, can you give me a glass of red, please?" Lena asked. Her voice was so soft, it sent shivers down her spine.

"Of course," Kara quickly pulled another wine glass from the upper cupboard and placed it on her kitchen island.

"Hey, I asked you first," Alex shouted in retaliation, as she finished filling the second glass. "So you're getting Lena's drink and not mine?"

"Yes," Kara answered with a smile, walking back to the living room while maintaining eye contact with her sister, knowing it would annoy her more.

"Why?" Alex challenged, squinting her eyes while maintaining the eye contact.

"Wife privileges," Kara shrugged and took her place next to Lena, shifting a bit closer to her this time before she placed her glass on the table.

Kara almost forgot about the whole thing, until a week later when Lena brought it up. They were sitting in Lena's new office, talking about her new conjoined plan for both her foundation and the newly reformed L-Corp for a new source of green energy. A top secret plan, but Lena was talking about it with so much enthusiasm that Kara couldn't help herself, asking more and more questions, eager to learn more about it. Soon after, Kara found herself in the halls of the foundation's labs, Lena excitedly telling her about the project in detail.

"This sounds amazing, Lena! But I thought this was top secret, not that I'm complaining. I love seeing you this enthusiastic, but how come I get to hear about it?" Kara asked eventually.

Lena was quiet for a moment, before she answered "wife privileges," with a shrug, her cheeks slightly pink.

Kara brought it up next, when she forced Lena to leave the office at a reasonable time. Claiming 'wife privileges' as the reason Lena has to follow her home and relax for a bit.

Lena later used it as an excuse to steal a fry off of Kara’s plate, even though she insisted she only wanted a salad. When she met Kara raised brow she simply shrugged and claimed “wife privileges.”

It quickly became an inside joke for them, a reason for them to do a nice thing for each other or an excuse to get away with stuff; like buying lunch, stealing clothes or bringing surprise pastries. Things they were already doing anyway, they just had a better excuse to do it more often.

"Hey, it's been a month since that game night," Kara said, raising her very fancy wine glass to her lips. Lena invited her to a fancy Italian place that opened recently. It was right after Kara mentioned a craving for pasta the day before.

"Are you suggesting it's our anniversary?" Lena smirked, leaning back on her chair. She didn't need to be specific, she knew Lena knew what she was talking about.

"Happy anniversary." Kara raised her wine glass and smiled. She loved how quick Lena could understand her.

"Happy anniversary." Lena raised her own glass to toss it with hers, smiling her wide smile with the dimples that made Kara all warm inside. She was so captivated by the smile that it took Kara a few moments to realise the waiter was standing right beside them.

The meal was, of course, amazing, not only because of the quality Italian cuisine, but her fantastic company. Kara always felt most like herself when she was with Lena, she wasn't sure why but she made her feel at peace.

They finished their meal, still deep in conversation, sipping the remaining of their wine when the waiter appeared. Presenting them with a complementary tiramisu with a candle and two spoons, wishing them a happy anniversary.

Kara was about to correct him when Lena thanked him with a nod and gestured for Kara to dig in. She couldn't help the goofy smile that spread on her face. Out of all the inside jokes so far, she had the feeling that that was their best one yet.

Read the rest in AO3

[hadesisqueer]

Honestly I thought we'd left the “Tai was neglectful” discourse back years ago.

Because yeah, he was. I get him: he was left by his first wife and her second one disappeared and never came back, and that he suddenly saw himself a single father of two, still having to work to support them while he was still grieving, and the only person who could help him probably had to keep his distance most of the time because he was afraid his bad luck would affect them. And I understand that he was incredibly depressed, and that he loves his daughters more than anyone in this world and that eventually he came back from it (we see him spending time with his daughters and reading stories to them in canon content), and Yang did say in volume 5 that her father was always busy with school, so I also assume that the guy worked a lot and that he always made sure Yang and Ruby had their basic necessities covered. But he did neglect Ruby and Yang emotionally for a while, and that did affect Yang. That's it. He's not a bad person, he just wasn't the best father for a while.

It's sort of like Willow. She was a caring mother for her children when their kids were little; Weiss really implied it. And seeing she is able to summon Grimm, I assume she could fight and that she even could have been the one who taught Winter how to do so (and Winter's original outfit seemed to be based off hers in portrait, so I assume they were close). But then Weiss' tenth birthday happened, and everything came crashing down. She became very depressed, and started drinking to numb that pain, becoming an alcoholic. I do feel bad for Willow; I know that she really does love all her children, and that in volume 8 she took a turn, stopped drinking and started repairing her relationship with at least two of her children. I know she's trying to be better now, but that doesn't change the fact that she was neglectful towards her kids as well. She didn't only allow Jacques to still abuse her those years, she also allowed her kids to be abused because she was usually to drunk or depressed to do anything. We saw that the closest thing to a proper mother figure Weiss had growing up was Winter herself, who was only fifteen when her mother shut down and had to take on that role. We've all also seen how Winter turned out, emotionally repressed trying to distance herself as much as she can from her entire family as possible, not just Jacques. And we saw Whitley; how lonely he felt because his sisters got to leave and he's stuck with their abusive father and their alcoholic mother, that he was so young when his mother shut down that he probably doesn't even remember when she was a loving mom, and how he at first could barely even stand being in the same room with Willow or her talking to him because he resented her.

They both made mistakes and that has shaped their kids being the way they are, not only because their mom left or died or because their father is abusive. That doesn't mean I hate them, of course. I love both Willow and Tai, I don't think they're bad people, I want to see their families heal and I wanna see them spend time with their kids, and most of all, I know that they'd give their lives if that meant seeing their kids safe because despite everything, I don't doubt that Tai loves Yang and Ruby and that Willow loves Whitley, Weiss and Winter as well, more than anything in the world. That's all.

[freedomfireflies]

more stiles blurbs??? last one was hot

A tense silence settles over the hallway as you look at the massacre and bloodshed, the ruby marks splattered across the wall, across your dress, and across Stiles’ face. 

His chest is heaving, his cheeks are flushed, and his stained hands are balled into fists by his side. He’s done what he came to do. He’s managed the threat. He’s executed the entire council.

He looks at the damage he’s done as he regains control of his breathing pattern and once he manages to ground himself, he looks up and meets your eye.

You gaze at the face of the man you’ve grown to love these past few months. The face of a man who gave up sanity and freedom and his entire life just to be with you. The man who chose to crawl back into the labyrinth of the nogitsune just to keep you.

You step over the lifeless body at your feet, your heels clicking across the marble floor as you make your way for him. He watches you, still a bit lost in his own mind, but with each step you take, he becomes increasingly more aware of himself. Of you. Of why he’s here.

You take his face in your hands, thumb swiping a stray drop of blood from his lip. “How do you feel?” you whisper. You’re desperate to taste just a fraction of the ecstasy you’re sure is coursing through his veins. All that pain, all that agony, all that strife…you need it. More than you need air in your lungs.

His eyes flick between yours as he finds his voice. “So fucking good.”

You smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His hands find your hips, tugging you into his body as your chest meets his. “Better than the last time.”

Your lashes flutter at the rough cadence of his voice. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs as he nudges his nose against yours. “S’fucking good, Angel. Promise you’ll like it.”

“I know,” you tell him within an instant, ready to find out. “I know, I can feel it.”

“Yeah?” His breathing is becoming sporadic, as is your own, both of you beginning to claw at the fancy outfits you’ve chosen for the evening in a desperate attempt to take. “This what you wanted?”

He pushes you back until you meet the wall, and you gasp at the contact as he begins to fist your dress in his large hand. 

This is what you wanted. It’s all you’ve wanted ever since he took you to the woods and introduced you to the Nemeton. Introduced you to the power. To Void. To the possibilities.

You’ve never seen a man more glorious. Never seen someone so comfortable in this type of light. This type of revenge. 

The Stiles you met back at the academy was quiet. Frustrated. Kept to himself and didn’t talk much about his past.

Spencer Reid had introduced you. Said Stiles needed a friend. A reminder that the future was louder than the past. 

You befriended the quiet, tortured boy. Figured out why he hid in the shadows. What he was trying to hide from.

He didn’t just let you in that night. He let the darkness in as well.

“We should…we should go,” you pant as he trails his open-mouthed and desperate kisses along your jaw. “They’ll be here soon, and you know Hotch won’t let this go—”

“Don’t fucking care,” he whispers, fingers slipping up the inside of your thighs as he kicks your feet apart. “Don’t care, Angel. Know you don’t, either.”

Your eyes roll back as he cups the back of your neck just to bite on your bottom lip. As he takes. “I care about keeping you safe—”

“M’safe right fucking here. Right here, with you.”

You whine when you feel him press the heel of his hand to your clit, rolling his wrist just to watch you squirm. “Stiles—”

“What?”

You gasp for air. “We have to go—”

“Not yet. Not until I get what I came for.”

“Stiles—”

“What?” he whispers, nose against your cheek as he slips his fingers inside. As he curls and beckons you toward what you want. What you both want. “You know the deal. Know it’s all for you—”

“Fuck.” Your head falls back against the wall with a thump. You’re not even sure how you’re still standing or why he’s so set on doing this now, but you suppose he’s right. A deal was made that day in the woods. A deal you can’t exactly opt out of and wouldn’t want to if you could. 

“If you wanna go so bad…” he murmurs as he drags his teeth along the outer shell of your ear. “…then I guess you better give me what I want.”

He wants to ruin you. See tears streaming down your face as you beg him for the power he wields. For the euphoria that comes from the dark kitsune spirit. For the touch that bends you, the touch that breaks you, the touch that belongs to nobody else but him.

The lifeless bodies on the floor, the blood painted across the walls, the strife he’s caused here…that’s only the tip of the iceberg. It’s only a fraction of what he feeds off of. 

What he truly needs to survive…is you.

You know this. You’ve always known this. And you adore it, truthfully. Adore the way your body, your pleasure, your pain is his destiny. Is the reason he exists. The way he spends each moment tortured by the thought of consuming you. 

It’s what drives him.

Like now. With all this chaos in the air (and on the floor), he can’t leave, he can’t move on until he gets what he really came for.

You.

And you’re not cruel. You’re not unfair. You’ll give him exactly what he wants, and you’ll do it gleefully.

He growls in the back of his throat when he feels you clench around his fingers. When he feels your nails scratch down his white shirt that’s stained crimson. When he feels you finally let yourself go.

And each kiss, each bite, each thrust is made for you. To own you, to have you, to ravish you. 

Stiles Stilinski is many things.

Focused has always been one of them.

You can hear the sirens in the distance. The fleet of vehicles as they surround the building and screech to a stop. The sounds of stomping boots and the cocking of guns as they yell their orders and positions.

They’ve come to take him away.

And while Spencer has always done a rather good job of giving you both a head start, you don’t imagine Stiles’ old boss will be pleased to see him at the center of this unjust crime.

So, just before they can swing the doors to the hotel lobby open, you give him what he wants. You gasp his name and fall into his arms as he carries you through the moment. As he whispers, “S’a good fucking girl,” over and over until you wilt into his chest in an attempt to catch your breath. 

And he seethes your name under his breath, the power you’ve just given him unlike any other. The rush of control and dominance almost enough to knock him off his feet. 

But you’re both out of time. You can hear the sound of Hotch’s voice as he leads his men toward the hallway you both currently reside in. 

And as Stiles leans back, ready to flee, you catch his eye. His smug smile rather victorious and so fucking pleased as he takes your hand and yanks you away from the wall.

You manage to slip through the emergency exit in seconds before you race down the steps, away from the mess you helped create and toward your getaway car.

Tonight, he got lucky. You both did. Perhaps next time, you won’t be able to say the same. 

But then again...you suppose you’ll just have to wait to find out.

I’m in a Stiles mood, sorry 😭

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

[im-not-corrupted]

oooh! trust issues!

Hi hi! This is one I started forever ago, for the Dreamling Bingo, and I just never got around to finishing it. I picked it back up again recently though, so yay! This one's about a Hob who's been looking for a way to contact his Stranger and ends up being among the cultists when Dream is captured, and a Dream who is still angry after 1889 and doesn't know whether to trust Hob yet.

It's quite short at the moment, with about 3k words and nowhere near completion, so I'll post shorter snippets for it.

A jewel, red as blood. A jewel he recognised, one that often adorned one man's outfit. Often the only spot of colour on him, for the rest of him was skin pale as snow clothed in midnight black. It was a ruby he thought about often, when trying to work out just what his Stranger was, when his thoughts often found himself back to the man who offered him immortality.

Back to the man who walked out on him in 1889, the very reason Hob was even here. And now that ruby hung from Roderick's hand. It was different than he saw it last time, an uncut stone hanging from a black cord. Stolen from the body that fell out of the fucking air during a summoning spell that included chanting here in the darkness and I summon you in poison and in pain. Stolen from his Stranger, who might've been Death itself. His Stranger, currently trapped in Roderick Burgess's basement. Fuck.

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[superiorsturgeon]

Huntsmen of the Caribbean pt 2:

Jaune: *pushed to his knees by Tyrian and Hazel*

Salem: *steps close and leans down towards Jaune’s face*

Salem: …

Salem: …do you fear death…? 👿

Jaune: 😨

Jaune: Uh…Roman Torchwick sent me to settle his debt…?

Salem: …Roman Torchwick…?

Salem: *turns and looks directly at the spot where Roman is hiding a mile away*

Roman: *looking through binoculars* 😨

Roman: *quickly lowers binoculars*

Salem: *standing right in front of him* 😠

Roman: 😱

———————————————————————

Clover: *pacing the decks of huge warship* Say, what’s that?

Vernal/Shay D Man: *slowly rowing in a tiny boat, dressed in frilly gowns and bonnets*

Shay: *waves handkerchief at warship* Yoo-Hoo! 😘

Vernal: *pulling the oars* Stop doing that! I feel like an idiot in these outfits!

Shay: At least you look pretty for once!

Vernal: …

Vernal: 🤬

Vernal: *strangles Shay from behind*

———————————————————————

Tyrian: *kicks Jaune back* I’m going to teach you the meaning of “pain!”

Ruby: You like pain?

Tyrian: *simultaneously hit by a spear and scythe*

Pyrrha: …try wearing a corset! 😠

———————————————————————

Qrow: *dramatically leaps atop a wall to make his escape*

Qrow: *pauses* …Jaune…?

Jaune: Yes, Qrow?

Qrow: …nice hair!

———————————————————————

Jacques: You can fight, and you will all die…

Jacques: …or you can surrender, and only most of you will die!

———————————————————————

Raven: Bring forth the nine pieces of eight!

Ghira/Raven/Maria/Adam/Roman/Sienna/Ozpin/Junior: *pull out assorted knickknacks from their pockets and toss them in ceremonial bowl*

Vernal: …wait, those aren’t pieces of eight! They’re pieces of junk!

Taiyang: …yes, well, when the first Brethren Court originally met, they planned on using enchanted pieces of eight, but unfortunately they were, to a one, completely broke!

Taiyang: …so they had to make do with what they had!

Vernal: …so change the name!

Taiyang: To what? The “Nine Pieces Of Whatever We Happened To Have In Our Pockets At The Time?”

Taiyang: Oh, yes, that sounds very piratey!

[faresong]

eve of the sun.

(spoiler) musings on my design choices below <3

✦ CLAIRE ELFORD —

Oh, my girl... I love her so much. I changed up her design slightly to draw in a gold tone due to my adjustment of her neck accessory: instead, it is part of a earring she was gifted by her grandmother that then broke. Though she doesn't remember why she had it, nor why it was only one of a set, she still holds a lot of sentimental value to it and couldn't bear to throw it out or sell its pieces, instead transforming it into a necklace.

I also gave her boots which, despite their look, are customized to better track up the mountain. These are her personal hiking boots! Additionally, since she lives up there, she has gotten into a few scuffles. While she's learned to hold herself well, there have been times she gets a bit overzealous—and the scar on her face is one of those cases. A nasty rock she was trying to remove had split her lip open and completely dragged down her shoulder before she could hit the floor and regain her standing. Nothing too dramatic, she'd say, but it reminds her to be careful... sometimes :P

Of course, because she's canonically the strongest of the group, I gave her more obvious muscles and fat to pad it out. As I've stated before with her living situation, eating is important to help her keep her strength up—and is also just something she enjoys! There are so many lovely recipes to try out, and before they died, she had loved bringing down ingredients of something new for her adoptive parents to try. They were all fresh, too, from her garden.

Here, despite the timeline regarding typical real-life immigration, I've portrayed her as mixed Indian/Portuguese. Her mother and grandmother were simply Indian immigrants, with Claire as the fourth-generation (Lady Dorothy had taught her Hindi, but with years without practice... she's lost much of it). Unfortunately for them, this was an additional motivator in the main town to persecute them sooner rather than later despite their people settling on the outskirts of Levine's ruling.

✦ SIRIUS GIBSON —

Onto Mr. "Bah!" now... As I've already mentioned, his moon earring is part of a set with Claire as a gift from Lady Dorothy. It was a gift in her hopes of bringing the two closer together.

Now, whether or not that worked out fully, Sirius feels he owes nearly everything to Lady Dorothy. Not only to provide him housing after his parents' demise, but tend to his leg injury wrought from when he'd been nearly crushed in the crowd. Everyone had pushed forward to see the alleged witches' deaths and hadn't cared when he'd fallen—Dorothy was there just in time to act as a barrier of sorts before they'd broken his ankle... but she still ended up crafting a small cane for his use.

As he grew up, however... the cane became more difficult to use. He was taller, and thus he began using Lady Dorothy'd old cane for himself. Whereas she had only needed it for balance, Sirius uses it to offset the pain/pressure on his left leg. Neither cane is pictured here, but it is still a crucial part of how his past pains continue to affect his present life—in a very literal way, albeit.

Due to how cold he tends to run within the mansion, he wears many layers. I've simplified his outfit to simply be: dress shirt, vest, pelerine. The last one is cut from the same cloth as Lady Dorothy's cloak (hence the slight star motif shared in both of their cloaks) and was initially a proper 'cloak' tailored for his younger self, though he still cannot let go of it.

I've added more prominent red to his design to tie in the ruby crest, as well as represent his resentment toward most others. In a literal sense, 'seeing red'—the reasons behind him becoming a demon clear. Unlike Claire who stands for nobility, Sirius cannot allow himself or Lady Dorothy that disgrace of leniency.

One last note: Sirius is portrayed as mixed Bengali/Portuguese. His great-grandparents had been one of the first Portuguese immigrants, with his grandfather brought over as a contracted engineer to figure out the water supply line for this area. He had never been given the chance to learn Bangla, as his mother didn't speak it... but Lady Dorothy had taken time to teach both Sirius and Claire Hindi, and he still reads some of the few books the Elfords had brought over. It's made him feel closer to the family, and he takes great care in trying to refine his language... even if it's difficult without another to practice with. (...I like to imagine, post-Sirius Conclusion, he teaches Claire again. It's only right.)

[howlingday]

Ruby: What's wrong? You don't like my new outfit?

Blake: One, you smell like death. Two, you joined up with a bunch of murderers and psychopaths. And three, you look like one of those emo kids on the dust-net whining about pain when they don't know the first thing about what it REALLY is.

Ruby: Wait... Do you have a My-Place page?

Blake: Shut up.

Ruby: Oh my god! You do! You do, don't you, you dork!

Blake: I do not.

Ruby: Hey! Hey! Will you add me to your friend's list? You prod me and I'll prod ypu back~!

Blake: I SAID SHUT UP!

[iamafanofcartoons]

Reasons to love Cinder Fall from RWBY, by June / Blightmxb on Twitter

1. Her outfits.

She's had MORE wardrobe changes than any other RWBY character. she's a fashion victim and she looks GORGEOUS while doing every evil deed

2. Her story.

She's the survivor of an abusive environment in a world where nothing was given to her, she learned that taking the things she wants is the only way to survive. She's such a tragic villain cause there was never a kind hand that could've lead her on a different path

3. Jessica Nigri's VA skills.

I cannot stress enough how much i LOVE Cinder's voicing. Her velvety voice when she's being mean, her grunts of frustration, how raw she sounds when she FIGHTS. Jessica Nigri does a marvellous job for her volume after volume!

4. She's a girlfailure.

She has been defeated numerous times by a little girl, has been allegedly killed by another maiden, challenged by Jaune (affectionate), kicked by THE Blake Belladonna. The list of failures goes on and i support her ALWAYS coming back

5. Her powers.

She can materialize incandescent cristals, fire, make any given weapon on the spot and BREATHE FIRE. how absolutely COOL is that !!

6. How PETTY she is.

"Do you believe in destiny?" "Yes." // "Someone once asked me if I believed in destiny and I'm happy to say I still do" Cause after coming back from the dead (almost) she es yet again ready to commit atrocities to become even stronger, i respect her tenacity

7. She looks so awesome.

The atrocities look GOOD on her and she is a feast to the eyes when she's on screen

8. She is an overconfident, manipulative, intelligent, ruthless, cunning, villain who knows exactly how to get what she wants AND she's a woman.

Enough of morally corrupted men in media, I want morally corrupted WOMEN who are POWER-HUNGRY & not afraid to take what they want !!

9. If Ruby is the light of RWBY, Cinder is the shadow.

As the show goes on, Ruby & Cinder both face failure, loss, trauma and they both slowly lose parts of themselves. But while Ruby overcomes the struggles and becomes better, Cinder doesn't change her ways and becomes worse

10. Her Cinderella theme

i'm obsessed with how she's based on cinderella but she mirrors that entire tale and instead of becoming kind and forgiving and loving she becomes ruthless, cold hearted, and vengeful

11. She is the heart of the conflict in RWBY.

She’s the only consistent villain that brings conflict to the story. Grimm are background threats, & Salem & the other villains have less impactful scenes but Cinder is ALWAYS at the centre of the main events that further the plot

12. She would give it a shot to bisexuality.

And I think that's very cool of her to love women !!

13. Overall, I think she's a pivotal character in the RWBY universe who stirs things up and gives us such memorable (and painful) moments and I just love a complex and morally dubious villain !!

Disclaimer, cause I know you guys like to take things out of context. Do I condone her actions? No. She's done terrible things and she'll have to pay for them. Do I think she deserves a happy ending? I think she's too far gone for any hope of redemption, so probably no.

I personally don't want her to die, but knowing how RWBY works there's a slim chance she'll survive after what she's done. So. I would like her to hit rock bottom so hard she realizes she's neck deep in the wrong path, but she can still do One Good thing before she's done for(+)+) and that is sacrifice herself for Ruby. Or save her/help her in any capacity when all seems lost and she's too far gone to survive. Her own little redemption to all the terrible things she's done. That isn't enough but it's Something. I want her dark life to end with a light

www.twitter.com/Blightmxb/status/1652622432560111616

[campbell-rose]

RWBY Rework Blake Belladonna

Black the beast who descends from shadow is supposedly both the Beauty and the Beast but I feel like other than being a cat girl it never comes through in her design. In her more recent appearances, she’s strayed from being black and has taken over Weiss’s spot as white, which is very annoying. So I went back to the source and looked at some of her concept art for inspiration. I found myself adoring her mismatched eyes, so I stole that for my design. I also liked the cutesy dress she was in, though I do like the slimmed down final of her v1 look. 

I think a big issue with her design is that Menagerie has no defined aesthetic. Blake’s kind of like a ninja, but has this gothic lolita type thing going on too, so I decided to design Blake and then design Menagerie around that – which turned Menagerie into a fairy tale island full of magical human/animal hybrids that has different areas based on specific animals – which I’ll expand on later. Blake took on a frillier look, but I made sure she didn’t step on Weiss’s toes because in this rewrite I’m bringing the fact that Blake is a princess into this, which is another play in my decision to make her and Weiss partners. Blake is a princess in hiding, the daughter if the dead king of the Eastern region of Menagerie after an attack from the White Fang (which have been overhauled). So when she returns to Menagerie she’s got nowhere to turn to and is instead trying to regain control of her house that was stolen from her. 

I’ve played up the beast aspect of her, making her a sort of chimera faunus. (in this rewrite, Faunus can have a variety of traits and actually look part animal) While this would be harder to hide, I’ve come up with ways she did it – Her ears/the bow, her horns/her hair + filing them down (painful but effective), the tail/tucked very uncomfortably in her tight clothes. Essentially, she was hurting herself to try and hide her faunus traits, something that will play into her character – she is willing to suffer just to avoid conflict. Also i took away her human ears i hate that design choice.

Her outfit is modeled after a tuxedo cat and this adorable fit I saw on Pinterest once. I’ve also taken to Twiins iink’s idea and taken away long sleeves, which gave room for some cute gloves. Her hair is long again because that mop cut is grotesque in both her concept art and in the show. I gave her a braid though, simply because I want a lot of flowing parts on this with her tail and hair and ribbons and it looked super cute on her amity arena summer skin. 

i think it might just be a little too similar to her og design, so I'll tweak it a little more after i finish Weiss and Ruby, in a whole team spread with their final designs

Also Adam is the rose with hints of the fairy and Salem is the fairy (in this Salem takes the place of a lot of Fairies and Evil Witches)

[shygirl4991]

I see the light SMG34

Sick me couldn't help do a small thing after watching Tangled and hearing this song (i swear im on break and taking care of my cold)

Finally he had his notebook back, he smiled and hugged it tight while SMG4 was driving the rizz forklift back home. He couldn't  help but be grateful for the help to get it back, sure SMG4 had his reasons to help him but that didn't change the amount of relief and joy SMG3 was feeling. He takes off his spy hat and messes up his hair enjoying the cold air, slowly his eyes drift to the man next to him.  He never took the chance to really take in his spy outfit, he had to admit that it fit him well. Blushing at his thoughts he looks away, opening his notebook he sees the page where he declared Four to be his rival. He flips through all his memories and smiles softly, they have been through a lot together he couldn't believe how much has changed. His eyes shift towards the other man again and blushes, the way the moonlight made his blue eyes glow captivated him. It was as if doing this whole heist has lifted a fog that was on his heart, when was the moment it happened? When did he start falling for the idiot sitting next to him, the man that he hated with everything he had. 

He looks away missing that SMG4’s eyes shifted towards him, the heist was a lot of fun though stressful with the threat of everyone learning about the igloo. It was strange how warm he felt when Three saved him from his hacking mistake, the pain he felt seeing the man get tortured. These feelings were so different from how he felt with his other friends. Not to mention when he lost himself only one person found him, the one person he never thought would see him. SMG3 is the only person that sees the true him, Four looks back to the road he is driving on blushing. Never did he think ruby eyes would bring him such comfort, could he have fallen for SMG3?  He hits the brake when he makes it to a field of glowing flowers, they both look at the field in awe. They get off the forklift and walk through the field “Wow! Never seen flowers like this,” SMG4 picks a flower and smells it. Three stares, slowly losing himself to the sight of Four holding the purple flower. Suddenly Four picks a blue one and hands it to SMG3 “You know i think blue suits you Three.” he winks at his fellow guardian making the man's face go bright red.

“What are you gay for me?” he retorts as he yanks the flower from Four, surprisingly instead of getting a snarky comeback from Four he hears a chuckle. “Yeah, I think I am.”  SMG4 mumbles as he looks up at the stars, Three feels himself freeze hearing his words. They both started to feel shy from the romantic tension building, then SMG3 takes a deep breath and takes Fours hand pulling him close. They looked into each other's eyes, Four didn't move waiting to see his next move. “You're an idiot,” was all he said before leaning forward and gently kissing SMG4 under the moonlight surrounded by flowers, a moment they both won't ever forget. 

[tashacee]

i have scars, and i was thinking about mask!wild, but mine aren’t huge, or like- heavy scarring, like wilds, but they still hurt in the cold enough to make the surrounding area hurt to move. Now I’m thinking about how hard it has to be with him and his scarring, like seriously get this kid out of the cold IMMEDIATELY. He has like two minutes before the self destructing feature happens involuntarily.

OOFT yeah they can be sore in the cold. I also have a fair few scars but i'm super lucky as most of them are in places that usually are covered by several layers in the cold, so I don't envy you that pain. On the few occasions that I am in a situation where they get that cold it is not fun.

Wild's scars cause him serious issues in the cold, especially during the earlier parts of his journey. After he saved the Rito, Teba made sure that he had a full snowquill set tailored to fit his need to be covered and a matching mask. The enchanted rubies sewn into it don't just keep him warm, they also have magic in them to sooth any pain in his scars from the cold. His Zora outfit has similar properties, and the Gerudo also gave him a special veil and abaya specifically for managing the desert cold at night.

He still gets sore, though. He's not always wearing his special gear when he gets trapped in the rain, or sometimes the weather is just so extreme that there's only so much the enchantments can do. He does have a few enchanted ruby bracelets and other pieces of jewellery that he can slip on to help, and he has a big supply of salves and potions, but sometimes he just needs to get out of the rain and to somewhere warm.

He isn't terribly good at looking after himself. Flora has been working hard to encourage him to actually use his potions and ask for help, with a bit of success. Travelling with the Chain, he's getting a lot better at it, mostly because he's scared Hyrule will kill him if he doesn't ask for help.

He's a good bean. He's getting there. All the hugs he'll be getting from the Chain will totally help with the pain too <3

[buckysgrace]

30. Second Chance

Part 30 of Every Little Thing! One chapter left <3

CW: mentions of being blinded, Gator feeling bad about himself, handjobs

Ruby and Bruce had many happy tapes of their children, lots of them with Gator as well. It was for mundane reasons but also for accomplishments and for special holidays. They only existed inside of their house. There were no recordings of young Gator inside of his house.

One of his favorites was a video where he was no more than four. He was sprawled out on one of the play mats, Daphne waddling around in her little onesie, her pacifier attached to a string on her outfit.

He must’ve been in the process of being weaned off of his pacifier at that time, because each time she’d walk too close he’d grip a hold of it and put it in his mouth. She would pat her little hands on top of his head before she would yank the pacifier out of his mouth. It repeated for like five minutes until Ruby laughed too hard, making him startle in surprise.

He wondered if she ever took notice of the way his eyes grew large, fearful like he was expecting something much worse to happen. Ruby had only scooped him up, kissed his little cheeks before telling him that he didn’t need that. He wondered where his mom had been. Where Roy had been. He wondered where they were now. 

He thought of his mom once again, lingering on how her smile just never met her eyes. Her eyes. He suddenly couldn't remember what color her eyes were. Did she remember what color his were? Not that it mattered anymore.

Daphne had once called his eyes home and he wondered if she’d feel the same way once she saw him again. He supposed he looked fairly pitiful as he continued to stumble around. 

His chest ached as he thought about Daphne, wondering what had happened to her once he was gone. He was fairly certain nothing bad had happened, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if Munch had hurt her. 

Everything came rushing back to him at once, repeating over and over in his mind as if he was going to lose the memories. Everything was dark, dark enough to make him wonder if he would eventually not be able to recall them. 

Everything hurt. 

He could remember being seventeen and being dumb enough to mouth off about something to Roy. He was always angry at that time, always pushing his luck with everyone. All he had really wanted was his mom at the time, but she was long gone. Where? He didn’t know. Or maybe he did and he just wasn’t willing to admit it. 

Roy had hit him over whatever he had said. It must’ve been dumb, as he couldn’t remember what he had spoken out of anger. He was bad about that. Perhaps he hadn’t said anything at all, it had just been his actions. He couldn’t recall. He just remembered thinking about how badly it had hurt, how he swore he’d never feel such pain again. He thought he had learned his lesson then, but he was wrong. 

He kept wanting to touch his eyes, but then remembered that his hands were bound. His head hurt too, as did his arms and his legs. He kept tripping, almost like he was falling in and out of consciousness. His lips were chapped, his mouth dry as he felt as if he’d been walking for days. He had no idea how far they’d gone, how long the hours had been. Just that he thought of many different memories to distract himself. 

He didn’t know how Daphne would want him after this. He was brutalized, a monster now. She’d want nothing to do with him, neither would his children. He didn’t even know what his dad would say. It made him feel sick.

He missed Daphne so desperately that he felt as if he could cry. Or maybe he was crying. Or maybe the wetness on his cheeks was the blood from his injury. It was too hard to tell by the sharp wind, by the way his feet awkwardly fell in and out of the soft snow. His fingers were numb, partially from how tight the rope was and partially because of how cold he was. He wondered if he’d lose them too. 

He couldn’t tell if Munch was ahead of him or behind him, just that he was nearby. It felt sick to cover his eyes up when it was clear he couldn’t see. Munch was taunting him, rubbing salt into the wound. 

“Announce yourselves!” The sound jolted him, rattling around in his chest before he quickly recognized the voice. He perked up, suddenly feeling like things would be fine. Munch hadn’t said what he’d do, but Gator had some sort of idea.

“Dad?” His question was rough as he took large strides forward, hoping to get to his father before he was roughly tugged back. It cut off his air flow, choked him so badly that he was left heaving for air. 

“Kid?” Roy called out. It took a few seconds for Gator to breathe right again, “Come away now.” He stumbled around, not sure where to go as Munch tightened the grip on his neck and moved behind him. His pulse started to race again, sure that Munch was playing some new game. 

“A son is unable to comply. He has sold his right to be a man,” Munch’s voice sounded gritty, raspy from behind Gator, “What disappointment the father must feel.” Gator felt his shoulders sag at his words, clearly knowing it to be true without seeing Roy’s reaction. He’d always irritated Roy; been an annoyance. 

“What’s going on with his eyes?” Gator bit back a sob, trembling as Munch tugged on the rope harshly again. He waited for Munch to kill him. He wondered how he’d do it. Would he drag it out? Make him suffer even worse? Or do it quickly. He hoped it would be fast. Daphne. He needed to tell Daphne he was sorry. 

“Forfeit,” Munch answered, making Gator sick again as the memories came crashing back over him, “It tells a lot about a man, the words he uses to describe a double cross. We have heard it all; to Welsh, to Gyp, to Jew. As if to steal is a man’s lineage, what a man is.” 

“What did you do?” Roy’s voice was stern, disappointed as it rang through the air. Gator thought that maybe he was standing a little close. He needed to apologize for being an awful son too. There were many things he needed to make right. 

“I’m sorry,” Gator started to cry, bawling in the same manner Knox did when he was picked up by someone other than him or Daphne, “You said to let it go but I couldn’t.” He felt miserable. He should’ve let it go. It hadn’t been worth it. 

“A man gives with one hand and takes with the other, he breaks his promise” Munch started again as Gator did his best to remain calm, still waiting for the blow to come. He didn’t know why he was dragging it out for so long, “He must be taught.”

Gator felt numb as he was slowly pushed forward. His boots dragged against the snow, the rough dirt as his body cried out in protest. He didn’t know where his dad was or even if anyone else was lingering about. Daphne. Where was Daphne? He couldn’t die yet, he hadn’t been able to apologize to her yet. He needed to tell her that he loved her. He needed to tell his kids that he loved them. 

“The hand he steals with must be cleaved from him and returned; still a hand but now, without function,” Munch replied, making Gator’s thoughts swarm in a million different directions, “Here is your hand.” 

He was kicked forward, falling harshly into something hard as a thud rang out in the air around them. Gator wondered if things were always this loud. He laid on the dirt for a moment, his hands still tied tightly behind his back as he felt all of his emotions rushing forward at once. He was angry, humiliated and sorrowful all at the same time. Most of all, he was regretful. 

“Daddy,” He sobbed into the dirt, his fingers twitching as he thought about how pathetic he must seem right now. He felt pathetic as he moved onto his back, “Daddy, I’m scared.” He sat up slowly, his eyes and cheeks burning as he pushed himself forward roughly. He waited, hoping that his father might have some pity for him. Not that he really deserved it. But he had done all of this for his approval. 

“I said shut up,” Roy replied, instantly making Gator’s sounds of pain stall at his tongue, “If there ever was a point to you it’s gone now.” His words hit deep, making him feel sick as he let his head rest forward. It took some pressure off of the aching pain he was feeling.

It was silent for a moment as he waited for Roy to untie him. He was disappointed, but Gator was still his son. Roy never had to see him again if he didn’t want to, he just wanted to get back to his family. Daphne and their babies. He needed their forgiveness.

“Dad?” He asked a second later, sure that his hearing was off as he heard the sound of footsteps walking away. His body grew cold as the silence surrounded him. Leaving him completely alone this time. It was worse than death.

His realization that he never really mattered to his father hit him at once. He cried out again, drool falling from his lips as he stumbled onto his knees, then onto his feet. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he wouldn’t sit there like his dad expected. He didn’t need his help. He was strong. He could get out of this.

He moved slowly, but that didn’t keep him from running into the very obvious tree. He groaned as he fell onto his back, his broken wrist feeling like it was seconds away from shattering off of his body. He whimpered, moving into a sitting position as he moved around. 

He felt for a broken piece of, finally satisfied as he roughly began to move the rope against the bark. He had no idea if it would work. He could be just wasting his own time, but it was better than stumbling around in the dark with his hands behind his back. At least his hands could help him feel, to get some idea of where he was.

He lurched forward once he was free, the rapid motions of his actions sending him flying forward as he groaned once again. His entire body ached but he kept moving, pushing just a little further as he reminded himself of just how close to home he was. 

He crawled up the slope, then fell onto his knees as he swept his hands blindly around. He moved slowly, taking cautious steps even though it didn’t really help. He fell a few times until he finally found a good balance as he gripped a wooden structure.

He felt around it for a moment, sniffing at the air as he was sure he was propped up against a door. He rested against it for a moment, trying to keep his heart calm before he moved forward once again.

He knew once he was inside where he was. In the tunnels. The same one he’d shown to Daphne. He thought that Roy must be wrong. This was luck. He was lucky. He rushed forward, dragging his fingertips against the walls as he wondered if Daphne would be waiting for him on the other end.

Something above him sounded wrong. Everything was loud and there seemed to be large trucks moving ahead. He wondered what was happening, if Roy had finally been caught. He hated how he hoped that he had been. 

He stumbled back, groaning as he gripped his head as he ran straight into a low arch way. He cursed as he bent over, holding his throbbing head in agony before he pushed forward again. He was almost here. 

He felt many reassurances rush through him once he pulled the door open and fell onto the snow. He didn’t need to see the sun to know that it was beaming down on him. He accepted it, craved it even. 

Everything else was a blur. He spit his confession out to the FBI before any of the on sight medical team looked at him. He had asked about Daphne first, only to be reassured that she was still with her parents. He was sick to his stomach, almost not wanting her to see him. She would hate him. He was sure of it. 

“Gator,” He felt himself perking up at the sound of Daphne’s voice, his chest tightening as he listened to footsteps approaching, “Hey, you alright?” She sounded like a lullaby as she approached, her hands gentle as she reached out towards him. 

“I can’t see.” He spit out pitifully, hating that those were the first words out of his mouth. He was pathetic. Useless. Just like everyone else thought. She held onto him gently, pulling him close to her chest. 

“S’alright,” She whispered as she brushed her nose against the side of his forehead. She smelt sweet, like berries. He inhaled that smell as he pulled her even closer, “Do you hurt? Did they give you medicine?”

“I don’t want nothin’.” He told her truthfully, feeling like he deserved to suffer. This would be his life now. He felt his shoulders sag again, feeling like he’d be more of a child than a husband to her. Only, he wasn’t even a husband. Just a boyfriend. Why would she need to stay with what remained of him?

“Don’t start with me, Gator,” She replied hoarsely, “You’re in pain. What did they say the issue was?” She asked him, sounding like she was near tears as she held onto his face again. He let her tilt and move his chin around until she was done inspecting him. He wouldn’t let her see his eyes. They were far too gruesome for someone as sweet as her. 

“They don’t know yet,” He mumbled, “They just cleaned it up.” He said, but was honestly unsure. He couldn’t remember how long he’d been sitting there. He figured it couldn’t be long. He told them to tell her right away, only because he figured it would be better to get it over with. 

“Let’s go to the hospital.” She replied and he listened to the way she sniffled. He tilted his head up again, only to remember that he couldn’t see her. He probably wouldn’t ever see her again. 

“Not yet,” He said softly, “I need to know what happens first. I need to apologize to Nadine.” He told her, furrowing his eyebrows together as he realized he didn’t know if she made it out or not. He hoped that she did. He had done a really shitty thing to her. 

“I tipped off the police,” She said softly, “I didn’t know what else to do.” He listened to her tone, but he could no longer really tell what she was feeling. She was always easy to read by the expressions she made. He would have no idea what she thought now. 

“You did the right thing,” He told her quickly, “It’s what I should’ve done.” He muttered softly, feeling a fresh wave of guilt all over again. He brushed his fingertips against her sides, wondering if he would forget what she felt like. 

“You were going to save her.” She reminded him gently, although he couldn’t really recall what he was going to do. Would he have really done that? He supposed he would never know now. She held onto him tightly, slowly brushing her fingers against the hair on the nape of his neck. 

“They’re going to take me to jail.” His words were muffled into her chest as she continued to cling to him, whispering soft words as if she was singing a lullaby. He held onto her tighter, wondering if she’d even know if he began to cry. “I know,” She replied gently, “But did you make things right?” She pulled away softly, tilting his head back up towards her as if she still thought she could look into his eyes. He was suddenly happy he couldn’t see hers. He didn’t want to see how disappointed, how ashamed she was. He wondered if she’d leave just as Roy had. 

“I think so,” He muttered, “I told them everything. All of it.” He breathed out, hoping that would at least make some things right. At least he could now see his father clearer. He leaned against her as she gently touched her lips to his forehead. 

“Then everything is going to be okay,” She whispered as she pushed her fingers through his messy strands, “I’m so proud of you, Gator.”

/////////////////////////////////

“How much was the bond?” That was the first thing he asked her once Ruby and Bruce had left. He had spent a few days in the hospital, under the close watch of guards before he spent one night in jail. Daphne had the bond paid off before he could spend another. 

He supposed he was glad that he couldn’t see how she reacted when he told her everything that he’d done. He didn’t hold back, figuring that she deserved the truth before she decided to be stuck with him forever. He didn’t think he deserved redemption, but thus far she was still around. 

“It doesn’t matter.” She replied, gently holding onto his hand as she led him towards the couch. He had a stick now, but he fucking hated it. He hated everything about himself at the moment. He’d fallen into his own little pity bubble, making it that much worse.

“Daphne-,” He started to protest again, stumbling again until she pressed him down onto the couch. He exhaled roughly, wiping at his chin to keep his bottom lip from quivering. He still had yet to get used to the fact that he couldn’t see. It bothered him even more that he couldn’t even inspect his injuries, to see what he was really dealing with. 

“Stop,” She took his hands gently in hers, “Don’t worry about that. You’re home and that’s all that matters.” He listened to the sound of her rustling as she sat near him. He tilted his head, wondering what the twins were doing. He hadn’t heard them yet. 

“Don’t.” He flinched away, his words coming out a lot harsher than he meant for them to be as she slowly pressed her fingertips against his wrapped wound. He didn’t want anyone to see it, but especially her. 

“Hey,” She paused as she brushed her hands gently against the side of his head, “I am a nurse, remember?” She spoke gently, bringing her fingers back just a bit until he rested against her once again. 

“It looks terrible.” He replied underneath his breath, sure that she would be disgusted with him once she saw them. She scoffed gently as she tapped her fingers against his bristly jaw. 

“How do you know?” She asked him seriously as she slowly began to unwrap the bandage. He could feel his heart hammering slowly as he waited for the sounds of disgust to leave his lips, “When was the last time this was changed?” She asked softly, only making him shrug his shoulders in return. 

“I just do.” He answered her first question instead, exhaling roughly once he was exposed to her. He listened to the sound of her humming, unsure of how she could be so relaxed at a time like this. 

“Looks fine to me,” She said softly, “You’re bruised a little bit, a little swollen too. But your eyelids are mostly fine, a little scar tissue here and there. No maggots though.” She explained it all to him, allowing him to paint his own mental picture as he nodded his head softly. 

“Thanks,” He said softly, inhaling her scent as she rested her forehead against his, “I can’t do this.” He sounded weak as he spoke, like a whiny child. He meant his words though. It would be easier if he just disappeared entirely. 

“Yes you can,” She told him sternly, “You have to. For all of us.” She squeezed his jaw softly, leaning forward to give his lips a gentle peck. He savored the feeling of her mouth against his before she pulled away from him.

“I’m going to have to face him in court.” He told her gently, thinking about the thing that was really weighing on his chest. He knew what Roy would say if he got the chance. It wouldn’t be good. He hadn’t faced any of them since he ratted everyone out. 

“And I’ll be there,” She replied and he listened to the sound of her soft breathing, “We all will.” She reassured him, making him feel just a little bit better. He really didn’t know where he’d be without her. 

“I won’t be able to see you.” He replied weakly, unsure of how he could feel supported by her at all. He didn’t know what to do if he couldn’t see her. He needed to see her. He didn’t like the fact that he might forget what she looked like. He drew his hands up slowly, cupping the side of her face.

“The doctor said you could get your vision back,” She responded, humming softly to herself, “We don’t have to worry about it right now. All we need to do is focus on you getting healed once again.” She seemed pleased with herself as she brushed fingertips across his jaw line again.

“I don’t know how to shave now,” He mumbled, feeling embarrassed at his statement, “It feels itchy.” He replied again, knowing that it must look terrible. He never liked when it got long. He didn’t know how he’d be able to handle it in prison. 

“You’re hairy,” She giggled softly, “I can do it. We should go take a shower.” She mused gently as she brushed her fingers through his hair. He shook his head, too tired to do such a thing at the moment. 

“That sounds nice,” He told her truthfully. He felt like he needed to scrub the filth away from his skin, “Where are they?” He asked, feeling worried that she thought he was too dangerous to handle the twins now. He hoped that she didn’t feel that way. 

“Sleeping,” She replied as she stood, then reached for his hands to help support him, “Let’s get you cleaned up, handsome.” She told him, sounding chipper as she slowly guided him towards the stairs.

He gripped her hand tightly, using the other to hold onto the railing as he unsteadily balanced himself on the stairs. Her touch was gentle but stern, like she was afraid he’d go stumbling back down the stairs. He was partially afraid of that too.

“So the room is,” She paused for a moment before she spoke up again, “Thirteen steps and to the left.” She directed, sounding like she was going to write this down later. He did his best to keep from grumbling, sure that he wouldn’t remember it anyways.

He followed beside her slowly, trying to do his best to keep his feet from dragging on the ground. She continued to count the steps, directing them to the bathroom before she slowly began to undress him. 

“I can do that myself.” He reminded her, not wanting her to think that he was useless either. She stalled her movements for a moment before he listened to her turn the shower on. 

“I know that,” She told him a second later. She gripped his cast softly, leaving him confused until he felt her begin to wrap it once again, “I want to help you.” She said gently, making him nod his head in agreement. 

She had him hold his left hand out to test the water and once she was sure that he was satisfied with the temperature, she helped him crawl inside. He kept his face away from the water, afraid to get it into his eyes. 

He felt fairly pathetic now, not being able to see and unable to use his dominant hand. Daphne did most of it once again, scrubbing at his hair and then setting up the loofah for him. He moved it around clumsily, still feeling like his thoughts were a thousand miles away.

He didn’t know where Munch was, or where he’d gone. It scared him too. He knew where they lived, so there was always a chance he could come back. That’s what he feared the most. If Munch came back there was nothing he could do about it. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” She asked him, jolting him from his thoughts. He chewed on his bottom lip, enjoying the way she threaded her fingers through his chest hair. 

“You’d be giving me a lot of pennies.” He told her, smiling softly. He was fairly certain she wouldn’t be able to handle everything that he had to say. It was just him worrying. 

“Hm,” She hummed softly as she rested her chin onto the crook of his neck, then massaged her fingers across his waist, “Do you want me to help you take your mind off of it?” The air was hot against the side of his neck, her voice sweet as honey as she whispered her question.

He felt his cock beginning to throb in anticipation, enjoying how she dragged her lips against his neck. He exhaled roughly, leaning back against her touch. She moved her hands further down his waist, drawing electricity underneath his skin.

“Yeah,” He replied slowly, biting back a groan as she wrapped her fingers around his cock. He jolted at the surprising sensation, grunting at the way she slowly began to stroke him in her hands, “God. That feels so nice.” He told her truthfully. 

The feeling of her skin against his made his body warm in pleasure, shivers of pleasure forming as she slowly moved her palm across the length of his cock. He enjoyed the way she squeezed at the base of his cock, how she lazily stroked her thumb across the head of his cock.

He had a hard time biting his moans back, sure that everything felt more sensitive than usual. He wondered if it had to do with being gone for so long, or if it was the fact that his body was reacting to what he couldn’t see.

“Feel good?” She mumbled softly, earning a cry from his lips as she nipped the crook of his neck. He jerked his hips forward in bliss, parting his mouth in awe as she moved a free hand to palm at his balls.

He hissed in pleasure, enjoying how quickly she jerked her hand up and down the length of his cock. She continued to use her free hand to massage at his balls, making his cock ache and feel heavy as he grinded his hips forward.

“So good,” He spit out, his thighs trembling and stomach muscles clenching in bliss. He tilted his head back, moaning as she dragged her teeth along the sensitive part of his neck, “Fuck, Jesus. That feels amazing, baby.” He cooed in awe, jerking his hips forward roughly. 

He came with a cry, thrusting forward harshly into her hand as his whole body vibrated in pleasure. Daphne rocked him through it, peppering kisses along his skin and encouraging him gently. 

“Good boy,” She cooed playfully, giggling as she gave his neck another soft kiss. She moved her hand away before she moved the water over him, rinsing him off again, “Feel a little better?” He could practically feel her grin as he nodded his head, huffing harshly in agreement. 

She helped him rinse off after, rubbing lotion across his back and arms and then his legs. He tried to protest but she shushed him all the same, apparently keen on the idea of taking care of him. 

She moved the razor slowly over his skin, softly. He wished that he could see what she was doing, or at least look at the determination on her features that she always got. It bothered him because he knew that his eyelids were parted, but he still saw nothing but shadows. 

“Smooth,” She told him as she brushed her hands across his smooth skin, “I’m going to redo your bandages now, alright?” She questioned him gently, only continuing once he nodded his head in agreement 

She began to open a few more things next to her, explaining what she was doing as she touched a cold liquid to his sore eyes. He hated how badly they ached. It made him feel like he really wouldn’t be able to see again. 

“Does it look awful?” He asked her seriously, hoping that she wouldn’t lie to him. He observed the way her fingertips became softer against his skin. 

“No,” She said at last, “It looks tender, but nothing gruesome. The doctor did a good job.” She replied as she gave his chin a gentle squeeze. He sighed, enjoying the way she leaned down and kissed the tip of his forehead. 

“Okay,” He said gently, “Thanks.” He mumbled, feeling like he owed her many more apologies. He wouldn’t have made it far without her. He was still angry with himself. If he hadn’t gone to see Roy, they would’ve been long gone by now. 

“I’m here for you, Gator. I want to help you, however I can.” She said softly, her voice shaking a bit as she spoke. He leaned against her, breathing in the smell of her perfume as he nodded his head in agreement.

“I know,” He told her gently as he pulled her closer to his chest, figuring that there were a lot of things to explain to her, “You are. Just by being here.” He told her honestly as he savored the feeling of skin against his. 

He let her help him get dressed without a complaint this time. He knew he shouldn’t be bitter when she was trying her best too. He was worried about her. He didn’t want her to be too stressed, to lose this baby too.

Knox and Piper were fascinated with his bandages at first, constantly trying to rip it off before Daphne moved their hands away. Gator always jerked back, afraid that he would scare them. He didn’t want to terrify them.

As the days grew into weeks, things got a little easier. He did in fact start to count his footsteps when he was trying to go from one place to the other, although he preferred Daphne helping him there. He hated using the cane. He hated relying on it. 

It was still a struggle to move around, especially when Birdie was in his sprinting moods. Daphne kept the house clean most of the time, but the twins still had scattered toys everywhere. They were growing too. It made him sad to think about how he’d probably miss out on a huge chunk of their lives. 

Not to mention the new baby. He rubbed Daphne’s stomach in the same manner, gently brushing his palms across her bump as he was sure the baby was growing overnight. He would miss the growth of him or her, he’d miss the delivery. And that scared him the most. He feared that something would go wrong again. 

By the time he went in for his trial the twins were steadily approaching their first birthday. Both of them were babbling, making semi coherent words and wobbly walking back and forth. He was going to miss them, more than anything.

“It’s going to be okay,” She told him, making shivers appear on his skin as she brushed her fingertips across his skin, “They’re going to take in account what you did to help them bring your dad down. You won’t get the max sentence.” He could practically feel her shaking her head, like she was trying to erase his own bad thoughts. 

“Even if I get the minimum sentence,” He started slowly, “The twins will be two and you’ll have a baby that I won’t ever be able to meet.” He told her seriously, feeling sick all over again. She leaned forward, brushing her lips against his cheek gently. 

“You act like I won’t ever come visit,” She said softly, “Everything is going to work out. I promise you that.” She said a little sterner, holding his hands close as she massaged their fingertips together. He breathed in deeply as he nodded his head in agreement, choosing to listen to her reassurances rather than fight her words. 

The trial wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. He kept his hands pressed tightly together, fearing that everyone could see him shake as he recounted everything once again. There were some things he kept out, but it was nothing in regard to his father or Nadine. Most of it revolved around Munch. He was afraid to bring him up, almost like he was a ghost. 

He didn’t get the minimum sentence, but he didn’t get the max either. Two years and five months. Piper and Knox would be three and his other child would be turning two. He would be missing out on so much. It made him sick. 

The first few weeks were the hardest. It took a long time for him to adjust to being away, but Daphne visited about every day. Bruce had worked out some deals, and got him extra visitation hours. He appreciated it. Even though some days he was too tired to even entertain her. 

“Can you see any better?” She asked hesitantly, doing her best to scoot closer as she tapped her fingers against the table. She was eight months along now and he was constantly terrified that he’d wake up to a phone call with the worst news. 

“A bit,” He admitted as he pulled his sunglasses off. He blinked a few times, turning in her direction, “Not out of my left eye, but I can see colors and blurs from my right one.” He told her, thinking that she looked like a mess of red as he squinted in her direction. He was sure that his left eye was fucked, but he was slowly adjusting to it. 

“That’s good,” She piped up as she reached for his hand, “Really good.” She traced her fingers along the lines on his palm, her new thing to do whenever she visited him. He liked the sensation. She’d grown quite well at describing things as well. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked her, feeling like she was being more quiet than usual. She’d already told him everything there was to know about the kids, but he also felt like he kept up to date with them as often as he could. He got separate hours that he could video chat with them, which they took advantage of quite a bit. 

“Nothing really,” She said gently, “Maude and Jessica were having issues with their foster family. They’re going to come stay with us for a while.” Her nails dragged against his skin softly, making him relax even though he felt like faltering. 

“Us?” He questioned her, searching for clarity as he tilted his head in her direction again. He watched her, wishing that he could read the expressions on her features. She had the cutest looks to her. 

“When you get home, silly,” She smiled as she took his hand, “Noelle got her own place too. I’ve been thinking about maybe moving in with my parents for a while.” She drew out slowly, making him part his lips in disbelief. 

“What?” He didn’t understand. He knew that his bond and everything with the trial had been expensive, but he still thought they were well off. He supposed it must’ve changed. She wasn’t working either after all. Kids were expensive. 

“It’d be nice to have the help,” She responded slowly, “There’s going to be five little kids soon. I’m going to need my mom.” She reasoned with him, making him nod his head in agreement. He knew that Maude and Jessica could be a handful. He didn’t blame her for seeking out help. 

“What about our house?” He asked a second later, almost fearing what her answer would be. He really enjoyed where they had lived. It felt like a piece of them. 

“I don’t know,” She said gently, “Would you still want to live there?” Shequestioned him this time, making him furrow his eyebrows together. He thought about it for a moment. The ranch wouldn’t hold great memories, but it was still their home.

“It’s our house.” He told her simply, feeling like that was the best answer to go with. Their house didn’t have many bad memories. It was safe in his mind. 

“We can have plenty of houses in many different places,” She told him gently, “There isn’t a rush to that. My home is where you are.” She spoke sweetly as she cusped their hands together. He admired the way her palm felt against his, how it was always much softer. Just as she was. 

“Jail?” He teased her softly, unable to hide his own grin. He listened to the sound of her laughter, pleased that he had been able to make her feel a little better. 

“I guess so,” She said between laughs as she squeezed at his hand, “That sounds about right.”  She replied before she brought his knuckles up to her mouth and kissed his skin. He savored the feeling. 

“Only a while more.” He told her, even though it would still be a long time. His sentence had just started, but he was still optimistic he might get out early for good behavior. As long as things continued to go in the right direction. At least he hoped so. 

“Mhm,” She grinned, “It’s all going to be fine.” She kissed at his fingertips, making him smile as the sensation sent shivers down his back. He couldn’t wait to really touch her again. He supposed they weren’t supposed to be doing this much, but none of the guards ever said anything about it. 

“What about the baby?” He asked her suddenly, still worried that something might be wrong with their other child. He couldn’t help the way he would over think nowadays. He had nothing better to do. 

“I haven’t felt anything unusual,” She told him gently, “I don’t think there’s a chance they’ll let you be there for the delivery though?” She asked him as she brought his palm down against her pregnant tummy, letting him feel around until he felt the soft flutters. 

“No.”

“Maybe we can screen time the whole time I’m in there,” She said instead, “We can figure it out.” She told him the same answer that she always did. She was right. They always figured it out. He wondered if he should mention the ring in his drawer before she got rid of too many things. 

“I guess.” He told her softly, suddenly feeling a little sour. He supposed it was a good thing that he had seen her in her wedding dress before. He stalled for a moment, figuring that would be the one she wore anyways.

“What names do you like?” She asked him gleefully, sounding happy as she continued to press his palm against where their baby was fluttering about. He felt his lips twitch into a smile, even though he was feeling saddened once again. 

“I don’t know.” He admitted, wondering how they hadn’t spoken about it while he was at home. He had been too stressed and she had been too busy taking care of him. It was his fault once again. 

“I kind of liked Willow,” She said gently, “Or Rosie. I thought that was cute too.” She sounded like she was smiling. He wanted to bring his palm against her face, but the guards freaked out when he did that. 

“I like Rosie,” He said softly, “What about for a boy?” He questioned her, really hoping that Roy could be a forgotten name. He didn’t want that name carried out with any of his children. 

“I kind of thought about naming him after you,” She said slowly, making him snort, “I’m not being funny.” He shook his head, thinking that it was very hilarious of her. He had hated his name, but he felt a little better about it now. He wondered if his mom preferred a different name. He suddenly thought of the name Linda, but kept that to himself. 

“I like Noah,” He told her gently, “Maybe Theodore.” He replied thoughtfully, laughing to himself at how it sounded rolling off of his tongue. 

“Fancy,” She giggled softly, “I did like Preston.” She added a second later, sounding wistful as she was suddenly lost in her own thoughts. He grinned at her suggestion, knowing that their time was nearly up by the way the guards moved forward. 

“I’m going to miss you.” He told her quickly, not wanting her to forget that. Or him. He still feared that with each day she’d stop coming, that she would have better things to do. He wondered how long it would take for her to wake up and realize she could do better. 

“I always miss you,” She drew out as she played with their fingers again, “You’re making all of us really proud.” 

[citadelofmythoughts]

So I kind of already got this with red like roses part two. (Context about the ruby and yang v10 family drama) but I’ve always wanted a slice of Ruby Is Angry With Summer. She loved her mom, she loves her memory, she mocked her outfit partially after her. She feels burdened with her gone. And while she’s sad and upset with her gone.

RLR2 is just. It’s my jam idk. It’s one of the only pieces in early days that showed how Ruby truly felt. Yang has nothing but good things to say about Summer and it’s clear BOTH girls idolize her to some extent. But while Yang lives in the bubble of “mom is still my hero even if she failed bc I know how strong and caring she was” it felt like or maybe I just hoped that while Ruby loved her mom here is laced with “How can you love someone and still be so angry with them”

In a way, in a very very different way that maybe would take a longer post to elaborate on, the way Yang sees Tai and the way Ruby sees Summer TO ME are similar. Not in subject matter but in the deeper more complicated feelings.

Tai was present but not emotionally. He was the fun dad. He seems to have grown from context clues into the nag your kids about life lessons, referencing Ruby’s annoyance at Yang saying she needs to branch out bc she “sounds like dad”. But he was neglectful. And loving a parent who hurt you even by accident, who never Saw your pain and then when they did handled it badly. Someone who tries but it’s wrong or not enough. That’s hard. The memory of super mom Summer keeps Yang going and is probably her version of Bubba Bubba Boba. It was bad. But not always. And that’s why her feeling about him are so complicated.

Whereas Ruby “maybe we don’t have the full picture” seems to give him space to be better / good. Of course dad loves us we know that. I imagine Yang has been the buffer for her since Yang was taking care of Ruby emotional needs growing up, and Tai took them out for fun trips and got them a puppy and taught them. He’s maybe distant until he “gets better” after Summer leaves. But with Qrow being the more visibly unstable one Ruby seemed to put her attention onto him and so Tai is just Dad to her.

But for RUBY, Summer is the omen hanging over her. Yang says in BTC that she believed Ruby was too young to truly grasp what had happened. How accurate that is we don’t really know but RLR2 tells us that even if she didn’t have the words Ruby felt more than ppl thought a toddler showed. Sadness and loss. Betrayal. She has to be the new Summer and she can’t even remember what she truly looked like. She’s perfect in every way. Ways Ruby can never be. And unlike Tai who Yang could potentially have a screaming match at, Summer isn’t here. Ruby’s only outlets for her feelings are fitting and herself, since she looks so much like her.

Their family makes me so sad but I have so many questions. And while a neglectful parent is NOT the same as a dead one, it’s hard to forgive someone who you can’t even tell you’re mad at them. (Not trying to downplay Yang’s own burdens this is more a sad fun parallel of how I personally view the girls and their complicated emotions with their parents)

The Rose/Xiao Long/Branwen family is a troubled one and it's so complicated and messy.

You can love someone but still be angry at them, you can love someone and be disappointed in them. A parent can love a child and still completely screw up and in the process hurt them without meaning to.