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#but like after breaking up id like to think he reigns in some of the insane projection shit... god hes so unwell.
cleromancy · 5 months
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LMAO @pythiasaint ur tags on that dick/babs post u reblogged from me SO true. it was like simultaneously one of the interesting things about their trainwreck and one of the things that made me want to grab dick by the neck and just. Shake Him. he has such a bad case of nostalgia poisoning sometimes and wanting the world to fit into the narratives he fashioned for it and that was such a fun messy dynamic btwn him and barbara but also OH MY GOD RICHARD. IF SOMEONE SAID SOME OF THE SHIT TO U ABOUT ROBIN YOU SAID TO HER ABOUT BATGIRL YOUD BITE THEIR HEAD OFF AND THEY WOULD DESERVE IT. a little perspective pease!!!!!!!
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dufferpuffer · 13 days
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Can I get your take on some er.. interesting discourse I saw today? There was an ask floating around asking if Remus would be an abusive partner. Now I personally think literally anyone is capable of being abusive as humans, but putting that aside for a moment, I don’t necessarily think of Lupin as being anymore likely than the average joe to be abusive in a relationship (atleast not physically, I could possibly see emotionally). This is a very hypothetical question with a lot of factors at play so I also think it’s very hard to answer. I think your pretty fair and balanced and I trust your judgment on the character and their relationship dynamics so I came to you for your thoughts on this one. (Though if it’s too dark you can skip it, id totally get it)
Yes. ABSOLUTELY - if not reigned in. But not intentionally. Remus naturally does things to defend himself, even if the ideas he is defending against are unrealistic and anxiety/paranoia based.
-- Would he hit/hex his partner? He had the shortest argument in the world with Harry and hexed him into a wall. He has 'physically lashing out' in him... but only a short burst before he is crying down the hall. He HATES tension. He would want to run away before he gets that heated. Harry surprised him. I could see him breaking a plate or something, but only the one, and not as a way to intimidate. He is just angry. Fuck this plate.
-- But if his manipulative habits aren't kept in check... ...He manipulates people to like him. He makes himself the sort of man they will think positively of. He holds his tongue on his true thoughts and tells lies so people perceive him how he wants. See: How he treats Harry... especially vs. how Sirius, or even Severus treat Harry. Remus bases his behaviour on how Dumbledore acts... but while Albus is doing his best to play magical 5D chess before a war. Remus is only nursing his own anxieties. If his partner is weak to this: he will abuse that. Constant white lies, sweeping problems under the rug... The more he gets away with the more he does. He will make himself seem better than he is, more responsible and in control, gaslighting his partner to believing lies - telling himself: 'I will become like this. It's ok if I lie now, because my intentions are good... and I don't want to lose their trust early before I'm good enough for them...!' Even if his partner can call him out whenever he starts - and he can trust that they love him even at his worst... ...other people can't love him at his worst.
-- He will try and control what his partner says about him in public. ...beyond a 'don't talk about my toilet accident at the party' request. It starts out more reasonable, 'please don't bring up that little fight we had...' But the more control he feels, the more his anxiety wins: + 'Don't bring up your depression... everyone will think I'm not doing enough!'+ 'Why did you talk about the new shirts I bought...? Yes I know they are nice, but... but what if they think I'm shallow?!?' + 'Look, just don't talk about my work - let ME talk about my work.' Eventually his partner is scared to say anything to anyone, because Remus wants to be in charge of conversations so he can control how he is perceived through his partner... all the way to asking them to act certain ways for certain people. And if they upset him...
-- He is a guilt-trip king. Remus isn't the type to blame everything on his Lycanthropy. On the contrary - he will push himself when he really shouldn't. 'No, no - I should pull my weight and go do the shopping, like I promised.' But he does like to feel accepted and his pains appreciated, like a grumpy old man whinging and fishing for compassion: '...I'll go do the shopping. But oof, my back is really killing me after last Full Moon... and these cuts on my armpits sting when I lift my arms up - see? Look at that - they pull! New scars for sure. I'm still getting dizzy spells... oh, but I'll go, I'll go! I'll walk all the way to the shops and back.' ...perhaps hoping he doesn't have to do the shopping without feeling selfish for asking. But that's not abusive, just somewhere between cute and annoying.
What is abusive... are threats. Threats to himself, to the relationship. eg. His partner says they aren't going to avoid talking about their depression - just because he worries it'll make him 'seem bad'. + 'Oh, so we can talk about all our little problems to anyone now?? Well then I'll go and make sure EVERYONE knows that I am so stressed out, all the time, and your clothes are always on the floor of the bedroom, and-' (not the best example ik - I'm just trying to get across that he will make a big deal of tiny things because he is worried that they will go poorly if he can't control them.)
And of course, ever the classic: "Well if I'm such a bother then I'll go. I'll leave! Goodbye! You won't have to see me again, or deal with my 'problems'..." He feels the relationship is always teetering on the edge, even when it isn't - so there is catharsis for him in having the power to 'end' it. Of course the only way to deal with such behaviour is to give him the agency to do that if he wants... but let him know he is wanted. His partner can't bend the knee and give in to the demands, nor FORCE him to stay... but they can wave goodbye and say the back door will be unlocked whenever he wants to come back. ...I think there is a case to be made that leaving without much contact is abusive in its own right.
-- Basically: I think Remus is highly susceptible to being abused. Once he gets genuine affection he wont be able to quit it even if it turns cruel... ...But he is also very likely to be the abuser. The type of abuser that justifies all their actions as being needed, because they are all born from him trying to manage his anxieties.
He knows they are 'wrong', but the more they work the more necessary they seem. He see's himself as a 'special case' and that dating him will NEED some unconventional methods. It all comes back to his Lycanthropy, but indirectly. His anxiety is caused by him not wanting to be distrusted for his condition - but it has seeped its tendrils into everything.
I think anyone who dates Remus needs to be very emotionally mature and have a thick skin because they can't let him engage with this bullshit... while also helping to shoulder his anxieties. He can't just stop freaking out about how he is perceived on a dime. He will likely ALWAYS be anxious about it, as its born from a real source: People will treat him like shit if they find out he is abnormal.
But he needs to know his partner is on his side. That they can be trusted not to sabotage his image. They like him with all his imperfections and struggles. And threats won't work on them. Trust and communication will.
All of these issues are 'they started as small favors and comforts... and then as they worked, they grew bigger and bigger'. None of them are 'Remus wants to control and hurt.'
I think the essence of what I want to say is that Remus has lots of poor coping strategies and unhealthy behaviors he has had to lean on to survive... and he needs to be shown betters ways, and supported.
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taizi · 1 year
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give me something that’ll haunt me when you’re not around
chapter three: me and you and the whole town underwater
rise of the tmnt pairing: leoichi (leonardo / usagi yuichi) word count: 3k title borrowed from dark blue by jack’s mannequin post-movie
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Usagi: Good morning Leonardo. Unknown: USAGI Unknown: there are so many snacks in here oh my god Unknown: what the hell 😭😭😭😭 Unknown: im heavily medicated its not fair to do nic ethings ill cry Unknown: tell ur aunt i said THANK YOU!!!!!!! and the blueberry buckle was SO GOOD😭😭 Unknown: i shared some w mikey and he wants the recipe like yesterday Unknown: we actually ate like. all of it in one sitting. raph was pissed lol
Yuichi lays in bed smiling at his phone for a while before he gets around to pulling his braincells together to form a reply.
He starts and stops typing so many times that it’s embarrassing. He’ll pretend he didn’t do that.
Usagi: Those snacks were specifically meant to aid in your recovery. Unknown: so idk how familiar u are w baby brothers but typically mike gets whatever he wants
Yuichi thinks of his youngest cousin Jomei. Tiny and soft, with huge gray eyes, and unfortunately already self-aware at four years old. If Mike—Michelangelo, Yuichi thinks he remembers the boy being called—is even half as powerful as Jomei, then Leonardo’s blueberry buckle didn’t stand a chance.
Usagi: Fair enough.
It’s a good thing he woke up early. He doesn’t get anything else done for hours. Leonardo is an enthusiastic conversation partner at all times, and his texts manage to translate that energy effortlessly.  
Typically, Yuichi lets his friends save their contact IDs in his phone however they want. Leonardo isn’t there to do it himself, but Yuichi makes the rookie mistake of giving him free reign anyway. So Leonardo insists his number go in under ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️ and Yuichi has something to roll his eyes at every time they message each other.
It also makes him feel warm. There’s an affectionate little tug in his chest at this clear proof of Leonardo in his hands.
Now that he has this unfettered access to the very same person he wants to talk to all the time, Yuichi checks his phone a lot more than he used to over the next couple days. He even keeps it in his waist apron pocket at work, which some of the other servers do, which technically isn’t against the rules because none of them have abused the privilege so far.
Yuichi will feel extremely bad and guilty if he’s the one who abuses the privilege and ruins it for everyone. But when it vibrates in his pocket while he’s going outside to dump the trash anyway, he might as well linger for an extra minute and check his messages, right? Right??
Once, Señor Hueso catches Yuichi lingering in the employee lounge after his lunch break is well over, moving at a snail’s pace back toward the dining room with his nose buried in his phone. He almost walks right into his boss’s chest, saved only by the last-minute sense of someone else’s immediate presence that Karasu-Tengu-sensei mercilessly trained into him years ago. So he freezes a few inches away instead and his eyes dart up to the skeleton yokai’s unamused expression.
Oh boy. Señor Hueso is generally a very patient person but he’s no-nonsense about work. Is Yuichi in trouble? Is he going to get fired?
“I’msosorry,” Yuichi whispers.
But instead of scolding him, Señor Hueso only gives a pointed look to the phone in Yuichi’s hands and says sternly, “You tell Pepino to give it a rest. He’s still recovering from a concussion, he doesn’t need to be staring at a screen all day, madre de dios. Please be a good influence.”
“You don’t know I was talking to Leonardo,” Yuichi says defensively. He has other friends he could be texting! Then he takes a second look at the older yokai’s face and backtracks immediately. “I mean. Uh. Yes, sir. I’ll tell him.”
“Good. Now you have tables seated in your section.”
It’s a dismissal if Usagi’s ever heard one, so he scurries into the dining room with five times his original speed, sending one last message before he shoves his phone away.
Usagi: Señor says no more screen time while you’re recovering from a concussion. ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️: what?? how even??? ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️: he doesn’t KNOW ur taking to me
Thank you, that’s exactly what Yuichi said!
He makes it a point to actually focus for the rest of his shift, but it’s a Wednesday afternoon, and things are slow. Sunita is off for the day, and Qiao is studying at the bar when they’re not actively pouring drinks, and those are the only two coworkers Yuichi is familiar enough to strike up conversation with, so he keeps to his own section and works quietly.
It’s been brought up a couple of times now, in passing—Leonardo’s condition. Apparently, even a month after the invasion, he’s still healing. Yuichi didn’t know the symptoms of a concussion could last whole weeks. He doesn’t really know much about kappa, or whatever manner of creature Leonardo and his brothers are, but for a head injury to be that severe…
Suddenly, the sight of Raphael’s damaged eye jumps to the front of Yuichi’s memory. The clean hole in the big turtle’s rock-solid carapace. What the hell could have done that? What happened to them?
His brain is coming up with nightmare fuel like that’s its job. Something horrible went down behind-the-scenes while Yuichi was completely ignorant—while Yuichi was waiting tables and getting into trouble with Kitsune and Gen and helping with the tomato harvest, Leonardo and his family were in almost certain danger. And Yuichi didn’t know.
He plops down on a stool at the bar at the tail end of his last break for the day, and Qiao wordlessly slides him a cranberry juice on the rocks.
“How do I get my friend to tell me about something that may or may not be a sensitive subject?” he blurts.
“Have you tried asking him about it?” the ram yokai replies in a tone that manages to be both over-exaggerated and monotone.
Yuichi doesn’t even know why he bothers. He taps his phone on the counter a few times, takes a big gulp of cranberry juice that he pretends is something much stronger, then goes for it.
Usagi: I need to talk to you. ⚡️⚡️NEON LEON⚡️⚡️: oooooo ominous Usagi: It’s not ominous, weirdo. I have to go now but I’m off at 7.
Any normal person would have taken that last text at face-value, but Yuichi isn’t dealing with a normal person, is he?
So maybe he should have been expecting it when he leaves the restaurant a few hours later and finds Leonardo waiting for him outside. He's leaning heavily on one of his katana, either in an attempt to look cool or because he’s having trouble staying upright.
Yuichi is not inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he blurts. His flat tone definitely does not convey his shock, but he’s feeling too much right now to articulate any of it properly.
Leonardo laughs out loud. It’s a different sound than it used to be—hoarse and a little restrained, like he’s trying to remember he doesn’t have to be quiet. But it’s still bright, and it still makes Yuichi’s heart do backflips in his chest.
He’s wearing a hooded sweatshirt that looks way too big to belong to him, a deep maroon color, repaired with clumsy pink stitches along the shoulders. One of the sleeves is hiked up to Leonardo’s elbow, due to the unwieldy cast on his left forearm, covered in doodles and stickers. The hoodie is unzipped down the front, so Yuichi can make out the cracks in Leonardo’s plastron, spiderweb lines cutting cruelly through the armored scutes. It’s hard to imagine the kind of pressure it would have taken to crush his shell—the same kind that drilled that hole through Raphael’s? What happened to them?
The skin around Leonardo’s neck and the side of his face is still discolored from what must have been pretty nasty bruises, and there are puffy red marks where scars haven’t settled yet. He looks older than the last time Yuichi saw him.
But he’s here. And he’s smiling, a footprint of that laughter left on his face. And now he’s—oh boy, now he’s starting to list to the side.
Yuichi crosses the distance between them at a run, catching Leonardo by the arm before he can topple all the way over.
“I don’t see what’s so funny,” Yuichi says waspishly, afraid to let him go.
“You wouldn’t,” Leonardo says cheerfully. He’s leaning heavily against Yuichi’s shoulder, his hand is shaking as he sheathes his katana over his shoulder, seriously, what the fuck is he doing here? “Everyone’s cussed me out at least once since I woke up. Add you to the list.”
Flustered, Yuichi says, “I did not do that.”
“You did! You said the fuck word!”
Yuichi rolls his eyes and begins the process of dragging Leonardo toward the nearest bench, staring down anyone who drifts into their path. The tree yokai already reclining there takes one look at Yuichi’s expression, grabs her bag, and takes off without a word.
Maybe he’ll feel bad about being impolite later. He doesn’t have any room for it in his brain right now. He doesn’t even think he remembers to breathe until Leonardo is safely sitting down, slumping onto the bench seat like someone five times his age.
Yuichi crouches down in front of him, giving him a hard look. If he needs medical attention, Yuichi will kick Run of the Mill’s doors down and drag Señor Hueso out here by his tie. Who needs a part-time job anyway?
But Leonardo seems to be okay now that he’s caught his breath, and he’s still grinning, like Yuichi is the best thing he’s seen in days.
“Do you use your scary face to get what you want all the time, or is this a special occasion?” the turtle asks coyly.
“I am beginning to understand why everyone has cussed you out since you woke up this morning,” Yuichi replies, sitting back on his heels.
Something tight that’s been clenched in his chest like a closed fist has suddenly loosened, a letting go when Yuichi didn’t even know he’d been holding on.
He’s missed Leonardo. Being around him has always been easy, even when looking directly at him is like staring into the sun, even when Yuichi’s words get lost somewhere between his head and his throat and he ends up spending most of their conversations just listening and watching.
“Not since this morning,” Leonardo interjects. “Can you imagine everyone getting on my case like that all in one day? That would just be bullying. I meant since the coma.”
There it is again. Little breadcrumbs, teasing scraps of information.
Yuichi gazes up at him, and has at least a dozen questions he wants to ask. That’s why Leonardo is here, even if he doesn’t realize it. Yuichi’s curiosity inadvertently dragged his friend from the safety of his home and the safe harbor of his family to the chaotic streets of the Hidden City.
The trip itself seems to have been hard on him, when usually it’s little-to-no-effort to step through a portal between one location and the next. His forehead gleams with sweat, and he’s still breathing a little heavily, like he just ran a marathon. He’s a pale shade of the vibrant boy Yuichi first met a year ago. He looks like he regrets bringing up the coma.
But he’s still here.
Abruptly, Yuichi doesn’t want to ask any of his questions. He just wants his friend to be here.
When Leonardo says, “Sooo, what’s so serious you dragged me all the way out here?” Yuichi pushes himself to his feet and takes the seat on the bench beside him with a theatrical sigh.
“Nothing, Leonardo,” he lies. “I just wanted to talk to you. You’re the one who jumped to conclusions.”
Some tense line in Leonardo’s shoulders that Yuichi hadn’t noticed before seems to go lax, even as he rolls his eyes. “I’m a ninja, we jump, it’s a whole thing. Anyway, more importantly, did I see a stall selling dumplings down the street or nah?”
“There’s no way I can convince you to stay on this bench, is there?” Yuichi knows the answer already and he’s getting up before Leonardo has a chance to say anything, offering him his hands. When Leonardo takes them, Yuichi hauls him up onto his feet.
They stand there together for a moment, neither of them letting go. Yuichi doesn’t even feel the usual need to spring away from him before he gets too close because he’s missed this stupid guy. And his stupid face, and his stupid big hands, and the stupid way Yuichi feels around him.
Whatever happened to him, happened. Yuichi can’t change that now. And if Leonardo wants to tell him about it, he will. But Yuichi gets the feeling that what Leonardo really wants right now is to feel normal. To feel like maybe one thing in his life is the same as it’s always been.
“Dumplings,” Yuichi announces, with all the enthusiasm of his little cousins faced with the unjust trial of bedtime. “If you fall on your face, I’m leaving you there.”
“If I don’t, you’re buying,” Leonardo quips back.
Yuichi scowls, remembers he’s still holding Leonardo’s hands, and then sort of forgets how to person for long enough that Leonardo lets go and goes a few steps without him. His brain literally goes offline for a minute. That’s never happened before.
“No it’s okay,” he hears Leonardo saying to someone on the street nearby. “It’s not his fault, he’s never been the same, you know, not since the storm.”
Fur bristling, Yuichi hustles to catch up, hopefully before Leonardo has done any actual lasting damage to his reputation. He has an image to maintain around here! He’s Usagi Miyamoto’s direct descendant, and Miyamoto was never anything but cool!
“Quit making up lore about me!” he hisses.
“Quit being weird!” Leonardo replies, clearly enjoying himself. “Dumplings!”
Yuichi scowls but falls into step beside him anyway. This is the guy he missed so much?
As soon as he has that uncharitable thought, he regrets it.
He thinks about April saying he always seemed pissed off to have Leonardo around, and darts a quick look at the striped turtle ambling along beside him. Leonardo doesn’t seem put off by Yuichi’s prickly attitude, but still—it wouldn’t hurt to make sure.
Yuichi waits until they’ve paid the elderly yokai woman running the food stall for two paper plates of crispy gyoza, so he has something to do with his hands, something to focus on besides his awkward tongue, to say, “I’m glad you’re back.”
Leonardo glances sidelong at him, crunching through a dumpling unselfconsciously. His mouth is full but his expression very clearly says ‘say what now?’
“Here, I mean,” Yuichi tells his plate. “Back here. I didn’t even know you were—I’m just glad you’re better.”
They walk the length of the block before Leonardo replies.
“I wouldn’t worry about us, Usagi. Me and my brothers can take a hit. You could even say we were made for it.” That’s a strange sentiment, and something bitter comes and goes across Leonardo’s face before Yuichi can make sense of it, as swift and darting as the little minnows that flit through the creek that winds past his family’s farm. Then Leonardo adds, sounding much more like himself, “My stupid arm is all that’s slowing me down now.”
“Considering it was broken in eight places, I would take six weeks in a cast as a solid win,” someone says from directly behind them.
Yuichi doesn’t jump in shock, he freezes, rabbit-still. Leonardo doesn’t seem surprised at all—he just groans theatrically.
“Oh nooo, it’s the consequences of my actions.”
Donatello snorts. Because that’s who it is, Yuichi realizes as he turns to get a good look at him.
“You can’t just run off, Nardo,” the purple-masked turtle says. His tone implies that this is not a suggestion. “You get why that’s uncool and unfair, right? Like, I don’t have to explain that very simple, elementary-level concept to you?”
“I left a note,” Leonardo argues in his own defense.
“You sure did,” Donatello replies, so level and calm that it sets Yuichi’s whiskers on edge, because that level calmness is very much a thinly veiled promise of bodily harm. “You left a note on your door that said “Do Not Disturb, Beauty Sleep in Progress.” And then you left one on your empty bed that you just drew a winky face on.”
“I realized I didn’t need any more beauty sleep, Dontron. I decided to save some for the rest of you sad scrubs. You’re welcome.”
“How magnanimous.”
Beyond the color-coded masks and the dramatically different body shapes and skin tones, there’s another easy way to tell the Hamato siblings apart; all of them have brown eyes in varying shades. Michelangelo’s are warm, tempered honey, while Raphael’s are darker and richer, edging into red.
Leonardo and Donatello, the twins, have identical golden eyes, piercing and impossibly bright even in the semi-dark of falling dusk. Under the warm lantern light, with their defining characteristics all but overshadowed, it would probably be easy to mistake them for a perfect mirror of each other.
But Yuichi could never make that mistake. Donatello’s eyes are different, because the way he looks at Yuichi is different.
Especially now. Where Leonardo was delighted to see Yuichi for the first time since before the invasion, Donatello is looking at Yuichi like he’s a clear and present threat.
Yuichi doesn’t know what Donatello has to feel threatened about. He has a good grasp of his own abilities and he’s self-aware enough to admit that Donatello could definitely take him in a fair fight. Any of his siblings probably could, up to and including his sister, out of stubbornness and spite alone. Yuichi is the one who feels hunted, like a tiny fluffy animal that was just sighted by a bored, hungry hawk, all because of the cold, calculating gold in Donatello’s eyes.
Then Leonardo plants his good hand on the side of his twin’s face and shoves it an arm’s length away. Donatello sputters and flails, and Leonardo talks over him with the ease of years of practice.
“Thanks for the dumplings,” Leonardo tells him. “See you when I’m finally un-grounded, someday seven years from now.”
Yuichi nods, offering a little wave. He watches Leonardo unsheathe a katana and form a bright, spinning blue portal with one swift downward slice through the air. Donatello is griping at him in harsh undertones, and Leonardo is giving back as good as he gets, but it doesn’t escape Yuichi that Donatello has gravitated protectively to Leonardo’s bad side, and Leonardo is leaning his weight against his brother like he’s actually much more tired than he was willing to let on.
Leonardo needs a break. He needs fresh air. He needs to—to not disappear again, even if it probably won’t actually be for seven years.
Before he can second-guess himself, Yuichi blurts, “I’m off on Friday! You should come to the farm. One of our tokage’s nestlings just hatched so we have babies to play with and they’re really cute!”
Donatello makes an antagonistic noise under his breath and hauls Leonardo through the portal. Before he disappears, Yuichi watches Leonardo’s whole body light up, a grin splitting his face in half.
“It’s a date!” Leonardo calls cheerfully in the seconds before he’s gone.
The portal closes. Yuichi stares at the empty space where it used to exist while the word “date” bounces around in his head like a free-floating balloon filled with screaming instead of the more traditional helium.
Usagi: Important time-sensitive HYPOTHETICAL question Usagi: When you make plans with your friend and he calls it a date, how do you ask what he means by that without sounding like an insane person?? SUNA: oh my god!!!!!! ꒰☉ェ☉꒱
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forgottenroderick · 3 months
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OOC | Roderick & Alaric
ok so ive only got a few minutes before work so i wanna make this short and sweet but!!!! i think alaric and bartholomew ar the two ppl roderick trusts most in the world!!! cause his wives are women and even his male kids are still kids in his mind anyway but bart and roderick i feel like kinda co-parented alaric (poor alaric honestly no one deserves roderick as a co-parent no matter the circumstance alksdjfjksdf) but fortunately for alaric roderick was SUPREMELY distracted and also a far softer person when he was younger so like he didn't get the full roderick™ that roderick's kids got, he got one that had more kindness and understanding and will to create joy -- plus i def think that alaric, being the last piece of their mama, was someone he was gonna be more tender towards!! idk but i feel like their mom was kinda an advocate for roderick when nobody else was in a lot of ways??? he felt v alone and isolated and despised but she tried her best!!
so i know i spoke to you briefly somewhere asp abt my hc's for roderick's bg but here's a write up i did asp and i thought id put it here as a reminder etc
Ok so og king varmont/Roderick’s dad, I’m thinking he set the example for roderick if having multiple wives…but he did it in a more ordinary way. Like Viserys I/Henry I, I’m thinking the king had two queens one after the other when the first died. This first marriage where big bro came from, as well as a big sister. The first wife had been a princess of a country across the seas that had had some tumult w the og varmont nation, and their marriage had been arranged to help ease those tensions, which it did. They then also arranged for Roderick’s sister to marry its future ruler and all seemed good till the marriage. The newlyweds, at their wedding, went on a boat ride to celebrate, racing, and the two ships sunk. Rumors of scuttling and assassination came to a head. Meanwhile the spring illness took the lives of the king and his eldest son, and roderick having lost three family members in rapid succession, comes unexpectedly to the throne. Rather than trying to work the White Ship Disaster out diplomatically as his father would’ve done, Roderick invaded.
okay, so!! idk what they were like as ppl, and id love to figure that out w you, but i can def talk abt what i think roderick’s perceptions may have been. this being roderick, hardly the most clear-sighted person abt ppl, he may have been waaaaaaayyyy off as he’s clearly quite messed up but yeah!! these were my thoughts aljskdfklsjdf
KING — VARMONT 
possibly bc tywin lannister is an inspo for roderick (i know i know such amazing role models no wonder he’s the best dad akjsdflksdjf) i see his reign his reign as having been…shall we say…a mixed bag. i feel like he was the sort of ruler who was really strict w internal measures so he was super high handed and pedantic w his ppl while also giving breaks to certain ppl and not to others creating unrest, but really didn’t give much thought to his external politics so he was easily pushed around by foreign powers, bc basically he was a really distracted ruler and roderick REACTED!! 
roderick is a force in the international arena, he is singleminded in his reign and policies, his word is absolute and never to be brooked, etc. anyway, idk what kind of ~person he was, but i see – and maybe for very good personal reasons who knows – this having been a huge influence on roderick bc he looked at his dad getting pushed around and just knew that what he wanted to be as king was ‘not that’ and he was going to prove himself, if not to his father, then to the world (tho he’s still chasing his father’s approval even tho he can never possibly get it bc his father is dead etc etc etc) but yeah!! i think a loT of this is a reaction to his father alksdjfkldjf
at the same time tho i def think his dad was super high handed w roderick, himself, and he felt he could never measure up to his half-siblings and, whether or not that was true, it galled him. i think maybe roderick believed that his dad had really loved his first wife but that his second wife had been a purely political move and one which he felt tarnished the first, and thus that he resented it – and resented the children he got from it too
despite his policy having been a mess, tho, i think roderick perceived him as a tyrant at home, quick to rage w his younger boys and perhaps even borderline abusive like – i just don’t see roderick as someone who had an even marginally happy childhood, frankly, i think he felt he had to fight for every scrap he got one way or another, and he’s still doing just that in his own way
also i think that roderick believes that his dad woulve pulled through had he not lost first his daughter and then his eldest son but grieving and ill, he was too weak to keep fighting and didn’t see anything WORTH fighting for in roderick or alaric or their mom, basically
QUEEN — VARMONT
i think roderick felt that his mom never got a fair shake – but also that she should have taken what she wanted. i think, bc she was his mom, he couldn’t blame her, so he was like 'its just that she’s a member of the fair sex’ and that his feelings abt gender are largely informed by this and by his sister which ill get into later. im thinking maybe she was religious (maybe this is why things were weird w the dad, maybe she wanted to be a varmont!nun, or smth, but being a princess she had to marry instead, or smth?) and maybe that’s where he gets his fanaticism? maybe even a lil like anna ivanovna (at least where she is abt halfway through the first novel bc that’s where i am currently hahah) re: feeling trapped by life etc, but also marked and unapologetic favoritism towards her own children vs her stepchildren and roderick kinda internalized that 'as the way it should be’
also do we think she’s still kicking, or is she gone, too?
PRINCE — VARMONT
i feel like roderick hated this dude’s guts…but also loved him. he was his big bro on one hand, but their dad saw him as almost supernaturally gifted and, in roderick’s view, always seemed to be comparing them and finding roderick severely wanting. roderick was much younger (he was only 18 when he became king iirc), and he was a son of the wrong wife to boot, and roderick felt he was always chasing behind trying desperately to catch up and always always failing, and he STILL has an inferiority complex abt this dude and STILL wants to beat him but he never can bc he is, of course, dead
PRINCESS — VARMONT
so i see her as a sort of confusing figure for him, another person both adored and reviled, another he was forever being unfavorably compared to, and someone who even beat him to wearing a crown (tho she promptly died). i feel like losing her broke their dad, as far as roderick could tell, and roderick was seized w the utter conviction that if roderick had been the one to die, their dad might not even have noticed honestly, and he tried to tell himself that it was just that men could be softer w their daughters than their sons bc their dad had – to roderick’s way of thinking – always shown her all the tenderness he had secretly craved. like, elder prince was his pride, and princess was his joy and roderick was like ALARIC AND I DESERVE SOME OF THAT TOO
somewhat like his own kids, roderick loves all of these ppl and resents them by equal measure. its a huge mess.
so yeah idk if any of that works ok for you, but that’s sort of how i imagined roderick seeing it
OH MAN THAT’S HONESTLY LIKE MY FAV THING ABT HIM [roderick]???!?!!! LIKE HE’S SO SELF-DEFEATING AND WHAT HE CHOSE TO SAVE WAS THE WRONG THING THAT’LL HARM SOOOOOO MANY INNOCENT LIVES INCLUDING HIS KIDS BUT HE CAN’T STOP EVEN WHILE IT DESTROYS ALL HIS OTHER HOPES 
so yeahhhh id loveeeee to hear all of your and alaric's thoughts, ideas, impressions, etc!! but that's sort of what i had in mind for our boy -- to be completely casual in referencing him -- His Imperial Majesty, Roderick the First of His Name, by the Grace of the One True God, of the Great and Holy Empire of [Varmont] and Astaira and of His other Realms and Territories One True Emperor, Conquer of the Twelve Kingdoms, Defender of the Faith, and God’s Own Champion
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fazbear-security · 7 months
Text
Soul Shift - Ch. 6
Ao3
“Empty?” Freddy’s ears popped up in surprise, and he heard Chica gasp behind him. “What do you mean the office is empty?!”
“I mean it be empty.” Foxxy reiterated with a low growl, pointing his hook back down the west hall. “There be no-one in th’ office, fishbone ‘r other’ise.” The fox lashed his tail back and forth with an irritable and rusty creaking sound. “Just th’ lad’s bag on th’ chair.”
“But if his bag is there, that means he had to have come to work!” Chica bypassed the backstage stairs in favor of simply jumping down off the edge with a mighty clang. Bonnie followed her lead, and Freddy hesitated before hurrying backstage and down the stairs to meet them on the party hall floor. 
“Aye, but he ain’t there now.” Foxy gestured for the gang to follow him, and moved back down the hallway. Freddy tapped Chica on the shoulder and gestured her over to the other hall entrance as Bonnie followed Foxy. They wouldn’t all fit inside the office, and if they all wanted to see for themselves, some of them had to go through the other door.
“See?” Foxy gestured with both hand and hook from the west door at the empty office as the gang crowded around the doors. True to his words, there was nothing in the room but the lonely backpack sitting on the rolling chair. “Like I says: empty!”
“Oh no…” Bonnie leaned into the office and picked up the backpack from the chair, careful not to squeeze too hard and risk breaking anything inside. “This is definitely Mike’s - it’s got that same cartoon patch he has.” The bunny let go of the bag with one hand and reached across to pat the upper arm casing of his other arm. “You guys know, the one right here?”
“Yes, Bon, we’ve all seen his tattoo.” Freddy leaned his arm against the east door frame and wiggled his ears in thought. Why would their night guard have left his bag? They’d all seen him come running back after accidentally leaving it or some of its contents - usually his precious coffee, or homework from his siblings that he was reviewing - so for him to leave it behind was just….not like him.
“Could he be hiding from us…?” Chica’s voice expressed the sadness her beak could not.
“Th’ manager’s blasted rules tell th’ guards t’ne’r leave th’ office.” Foxy argued, folding his arms across his tattered torso. His tone notably softened, however. “Mike be many things, but th’ lad ain’t no rulebreaker.”
“But he is scared,” Freddy’s ears lowered as he sighed. Despite their best efforts, none of them had been able to reassure their night guard that they meant him no harm. Now, at least. “And humans will do a lot of strange things when they’re scared…
“Maybe Mike thought we’d never think to look for him anywhere but the office?” Bonnie offered up as he carefully put the bag back on the chair. Mike would want it right where he’d left it, when he came back.
“You’re right, Bonnie. Maybe he’s hiding somewhere?” Chica jumped on the thought. Scared or not, if Mike had taken the risk to hide outside of the office, then they had a better chance of catching him without having to worry about having those heavy doors slammed in their face. “Maybe we can find him, and finally talk to him!!”
“Aye, I bet we could, Chica.” Foxy nodded. Freddy tilted his head in silent disagreement, but said nothing. “There be only a few places ‘e could be ‘iding, an’ we c’n count out places like Parts ‘n Services an’ th’ supply closet.”
“Oh, yeah!” Bonnie’s ears perked up. “Mike always gags when the janitors have to get out the cleaning stuff, so he’d never hide where they stored it!”
“Gang, let’s reign it in, for a moment.” Freddy finally spoke up. “If Mike is so scared already tonight that he started off breaking the rules and hiding, I don’t think us hunting him down will make anything better-”
“Oh, but Freddy, this might be our only chance!” Chica argued back, putting on her best ‘pleading child’ face. Bonnie leaned in to join her for added effect. “Mike is too quick on the cameras and the buttons for us to get into the office normally-”
“And he doesn’t come out for pizza parties or karaoke or talent shows or even game nights-” Bonnie added in.
“-and we don’t want to have to go another year chasing him around just to talk to him, right?” Chica finished. Over their shoulders, Foxy was nodding along. Freddy felt very outnumbered, and sighed in defeat.
“Alright…” The bear straightened up and adjusted his hat. Hopefully Mike would be able to forgive them for this, somewhere in the future “I’m…I’m sure we can clear everything up once we’ve got him all sat down for the talk.” Bonnie and Chica both immediately brightened up.
“I’ll check the kitchen!” Chica volunteered, already pushing Freddy aside to run back down the east hallway. 
“And I’ll check the bathrooms!” Foxy wisely took one large step to the side as Bonnie turned and ran back out the west door, leaving the fox and the bear alone in the office. Freddy drummed his fingers against the security desk for a moment, looking around for any last clues that might have told him where their guard had disappeared to.
“I have a bad feeling about all this, Foxy.” He confessed. One drawer on the desk was slightly open, and Freddy carefully tugged on the edge with his large fingers to pull it further. There was nothing inside but a few dust bunnies and old batteries, like the kind used for flashlights. “I can’t put my finger on it, but this all just isn’t adding up right.”
“I di’n’t want t’say so in front ‘f th’ cheer squad, but…I be right there wit’ ye.” Foxy shifted to glance back over his shoulder, and kept his voice low, even though neither Chica nor Bonnie would have been able to hear him, at this distance. “There be somethin’ wicked goin’ on t’night, whe’r we like it ‘r not.”
“I hope we’re both wrong, Foxy.” Freddy nudged the drawer shut gently. “I don’t think this place can handle another tragedy.” He didn’t think he could handle another tragedy. Not after they’d been given this second chance. Not after things had been going so right for so long. Foxy reached out and placed a careful hook - the flat side, not the pointed, rusty curve - on the bear’s arm.
“Me, too.” He flipped up his eyepatch to let the other see just how sincere he was. “This ol’ fox’ll be happier’n a shark at chummin’ time t’be proven a lousy prophet.” Freddy’s ears lifted a little, but then, there was a distant crashing sound, followed by Bonnie’s voice shouting “I’m okay!”, and he shook his head. 
“We’d better catch up before they tear the place apart.” The bear stepped backwards out of the office. “I’ll check the offices, I suppose.”
“An’ I’ll take a look ‘round me cove.” Foxy also stepped back out of the office, and headed back down the west hall. “I be a deep, deep snoozer after a ‘ard day’s work doin’ nothin’. Mebee th’ lad slipped by me b’fore th’ midnight bells.” Freddy continued down the east hall, trying his best to not dwell on the strange, cold certainty in his processor that they were wasting time.
There were six hours left in the night shift. Surely they’d find their night guard before then.
---
Light fingers curled into the collar of the polyester shirt and tugged once, twice, then three times; each one growing more frantic than the one before. The fingers let go and hovered, unsure, before reaching out to try patting the face of the man they stood over. Upon receiving no reaction, the fingers retracted, and wound themselves together nervously.
Their owner paced back and forth on the concrete, every now and then looking up toward the basement door or around at the dark silhouettes of boxes, crates, and spare parts, as if expecting to see something. They were disappointed each time, and the figure grew more and more anxious before something hit their foot, and they froze. The flashlight rolled a few feet away before stopping, trailing tiny shards of glass from its shattered lens and bulb. The figure slowly sank to its knees beside the body, and gently reached out their hands to shake one of the arms.
“Please, please wake up already…” The little figure pleaded to the body at the bottom of the stairs. “You can’t sleep here; it’s cold and dark, and no-one will find you here until morning!” Their words fell on deaf ears, and the figure made a small noise of worry and bent their head down to the man’s chest. They listened for something, but whatever they heard didn’t seem to ease their worries, and they sat up.
“I-...I can fix this.” They promised, lifting the arm up from the elbow and hugging it to their slim chest. “I can put you back together, I just-. I need more time.” They looked around the basement, and scrambled up to run over to one of the larger, longer crates pushed against the wall. Dexterous little fingers flipped the metal latches holding down the lid, and the figure made a sound of exertion as they opened the box as far as they could.
“...okay, okay. I can work with this.” They said, almost to themselves as they closed the box, and turned back to the body. They knelt down again, and placed both hands flat on the chest. “This might…feel weird…b-but it’s going to be fine! I know what I’m doing!” They insisted, as if they were the one who needed convincing. The body did not respond, and the figure pressed down. A pale glow began to shine from beneath their hands, and after a few seconds, the glow brightened, and their hands sank down into the body.
Seconds later, they withdrew, and clutched between striped fingers was a small, ethereal orb of light. Something akin to smoke wafted from the orb, trailing back down into the body as the figure stood up, clutching the light to their own chest as they hurried back to the crate. They let go with one hand to lift the lid with all their strength, and stood up on their toes to reach down inside with their other hand, and shove the orb somewhere safe. The trail of smoke faded out of sight, and the figure braced the crate lid above their head with both hands, staring expectantly into the crate, before slowly, carefully, lowering it shut. 
“I’ll put you back…eventually.” The figure promised, fiddling with the metal latches, but not reclosing them. Nobody who worked here would notice. “You’ll be safe in there until I can figure out how to fix you.” They turned away from the crate, and hesitated over the body for a few more seconds before stepping around them and climbing up onto a cluttered work table with careful steps. Reaching up, the figure pulled open the cover of a vent on the wall, and climbed up inside, leaving the vent unlatched.
The basement sat in silence for the rest of the night.
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thy-lover · 1 year
Text
Never Fall in Love Again - M. Bell, D. Van Der Linde
Do Not Interact/Read unless over 18+
WARNINGS - GAY FIC/Sex, One-Sided Pining, Angsty, Smut(the unromantic kind), Public Sex, Cheating, Dom!Micah/Sub!Dutch, Hair Pomade as Lube but what the hell, i dare you to find me some K Y Jelly in the 18 fucking '00s plus I'm as creative as the color gray(fuckit,hairpomadefortheclutch)
SUMMARY - Why was Dutch so blinded by Micah that he would betray his only son? Arthur Morgan breaks up with Micah Bell. And during an escort job, Dutch Van Der Linde attempts to pick up what his "son" left behind.
(gif by @woman-with-no-name)
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The glances Dutch sent Micah have not gone unnoticed by Micah, but the job had to be done, and that meant there was no fuckin around.
A man sat between Micah and Dutch in the carriage, with his hands tied and his feet bound. They were to drop this man off at the sheriff's office for a bounty, they just had to collect the money and go back to Shady Belle. And for some odd reason Dutch told Micah he wanted to come, no insisted and Micah who valued his precious alone time had to give it up and agreed.
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After they dropped the wanted man off, Micah and Dutch rode in peaceful silence, that is until Micah saw Dutch look at him once again and without hesitation, Micah's annoyance took over "Speak. Dutch. Gettin' tired of them side glances."
Dutch cleared his throat at the unexpected call out "Wonderin' why Arthur left you is all...?" it spoke out more like a question than an explanation.
Micah cringed internally his hands gripped the reigns tightly, the wound slightly re-opening.
"I hate you!" Arthur shouted stomping his boot down onto the sand.
Micah snickered "Oh, please, you hate me now, cowpoke? Never said nothin' like that when you was fuckin me."
Arthur turned around sharply "You cheated on me!!! Yous lucky I don't shoot you where you stand."
"thought I told you, that was an accident ain't mean nothing to me."
Arthur scoffed "Go to hell, Micah."
In Micah's head he did nothing wrong fuckin that lady was sure as shit unexpected but hell he was drunk. Too drunk to tell a pussy from a cock. Well, that ain't the whole truth. He was drunk, but he couldn't verbally deny the working girl who grabbed him by the coat and drag him to a room. It felt good, Micah couldn't deny that so he kinda just went along with it. In his drunken state all he knew was fucking her stimulated the feeling of making love to Arthur.
But it wasn't until Arthur walked in did Micah look at the woman who was very much not Arthur and look at the very real Arthur standing at the door his hands ready to grab his guns.
"Ah, Arthur," Micah pulled his cock out of the woman and stumbled over to the door "Won't ya join us? She feels mighty good, I thought she was ya for a second." Micah went to Arthur attempting to through himself at him. Micah's face was greeted with an oak door busting Micah's nose and making Micah fall on his ass "Fuck!"
The woman got up from the bed and put her johns back on and fixed the bottom half of her dress, she walked over to Micah and held out her hand "That'll be five dollars sug."
Micah just huffed and used his free time to find a cigarette and lit it "Cheated on 'im." no point in lying Dutch probably already knows.
"Why'd ya do that?" Dutch asked.
"Hell am I supposed to know!!!" Micah immediately regretted the way that came out and took another puff of the cigarette "Ugh, Dunno, I was drunk, didn't, didn't know what I was doing."
Dutch reached over to Micah and pulled the cigarette right out his mouth and put it in his own "Then I guess that means me and you have more in common than id like to think."
Micah knew what he was talking about it wasn't exactly a secret. Dutch was known for sleeping around with 'business partners' behind the back of whatever woman he was married to at the time. His explanation being he does this 'for the sake of the gang' his reputation exceeded him.
Micah shrugged "I guess, you fuck a woman behind your boyfriend's back?"
Dutch snorted out in a tiny fit of amusement "Can't say I have but I have cheated on a wife with a man."
Micah doubled over accidentally tugging the reigns making the horses shift drastically "Shit Micah!" Dutch grabbed the wooden bench and only let go once Micah got the horses back on the road "The fuck do ya mean, with a man?"
Dutch shrugged "For the sake of the gang right?"
Micah scratched his neck "Didn't make ya out to be the type to like men."
As silence overtook the air allowing two men to gather their bearings. But Dutch was the one to ward off the silence "Arthur ever blow ya?" Dutch asked putting out the cigarette.
"W-what?" Micah asked flabbergasted.
Dutch stared into Micah's eyes with a stern look "Asked if Arthur ever blow you?"
Micah recovered quickly still feeling cocky over the fact that he bagged Arthur fucking Morgan, he was ready to brag about it anytime any place "Of course he blew me. Put my cock down his throat like a pro." Micah made it sound like he wasn't begging for it.
Dutch reached over and grabbed Micah's thigh feeling along the inner seam till he could feel the tip of Micah's cock through his jeans "Would you allow me to try to best him?"
Given Micah's drive and lack of sexual control, his nerves were spiking but Micah played it off well with a cold look sent Dutch's way "Fuck would you want to do that for?"
"if you don't want me to then by all means say no." Micah looked at Dutch with the most confused look in the world.
Micah scoffed he was probably just trying to gauge a reaction "Be my Guest." Micah joked.
Unfortunately, well at least to Micah, Dutch reached over and began unbuckling Micah's belt "Hey! What the hell're you doin'?!"
Dutch looked up at him and smirked continuing onto his zipper "Something wrong?"
Micah decided to stay silent and allow Dutch to effectively get his cock out when someone in another coach looked over to them, Micah immediately pulled out his revolver and aimed it at the bewildered man. Micah was lucky he still had his mask on, "Fuck outta here, for I take your head off."
The man on the other coach whipped his horses to move faster. When Dutch undressed him enough for Micah's cock to spring out, he started with a tight fist around the base. Micah growled at him and looked up to see a few cardinals and crows fly by, he didn't want to look down, didn't want to see anyone but Arthur give him a blow job.
Dutch soon licked around the tip of Micah's dick, Dutch in a moment of clear-headedness realized he was sucking off Micah Fucking Bell, when Dutch looked up to see a grateful Micah he was greeted by Micah trying to look anywhere but at him.
"Micah! Your supposed to-"
Micah finally looked down a type of darkness coating his eyes "Quit talkin' just keep goin',"
Micah's hand traveled from the base of Dutch's neck before weaving it in Dutch's long black hair "Said keep going Dutch." Dutch slowly began to take Micah's head back in his mouth at first, allowing Micah to get used to the feeling, from his mouth Dutch began to take him further, and the process was sped up when Dutch allowed Micah to fuck his mouth and hold down his head "Arthur!" the way Arthurs name came out of Micah's mouth was so hot, so natural like he should moan no one's name but Arthurs. Micah can't help but remember the high he got when Arthur gave him a blowjob.
Micah was more than happy at the fact that he wore his leather shotgun coat. The tree he was leaning against had gnarly bark and Arthur wasn't stopping. When was the last time he felt so good? His mouth made Micah shake and grab. When was the last time he felt so good about himself, just the mere sight of Arthur down on his knees, with his cute little pink tongue sticking out to collect whatever was left in the wake of his undoing?
"Told ya it wasn't so bad," Arthur said casually swallowing Micah's cum. A wave of adoration hit Micah like he just saw Arthur again for the first time, just fallen in love all over again.
"Shit, Arthur," Micah took a big breath "Say we ought to take this to your tent?"
Dutch growled, pulling Micah out if his state. When Micah looked down to confront Dutch the image of Arthur replaced Dutch. Micah grabbed 'Arthur' by the hair and began to fuck his mouth "Keep goin' Arthur."
Dutch couldn't tell how long he was sucking Micah off, it wasn't until Dutch was let up for air did he speak, Dutch was frustrated, frustrated Micah hasn't fucking cum yet. His jaw was fucking hurting and his throat felt numb "Micah! Cum or something!"
Micah stopped in his tracks the image of Arthur faded away, the weight of the world falling back on Micah's shoulders, the weight of a world without his little cowpoke.
Micah grabbed the reigns and tugged the reigns and the horses sharply went right and planted themselves to the side of the road. Micah leaned forward and began to rip the buttons off Dutch's vest "Micah!" Dutch scowled at the action of his expensive vest being destroyed
Micah didn't bother to care only fanned his hands around Dutch's abdomen, Micah's mouth trailed down to Dutch's nipple, and began to bite the surrounding strong flesh. Dutch's back arched to allow Micah more access to his chest. Micah pulled away and grabbed Dutch's neck "Get out."
Dutch was confused at first but when Micah gave Arth-Dutch a look that meant unfinished business Dutch scrambled out of the Chuckwagon. Micah followed behind him and when they were in the clear Micah pushed Dutch against the side of the chuckwagon.
This was unusual behavior for Micah when it came to him and Arthur who topped was always a 50/50 Micah would sometimes top, and Arthur would sometimes top. Micah thoroughly enjoyed being a bottom, but so did Arthur. They both need to be weak for each other they both need to feel protected and bottoming was something Micah only felt safe with if it was Arthur. While Micah's heart hardened he made up his mind to allow the urge to dominate Dutch to take control.
Micah began to unbuckle Dutch's belt and pushed his pants down past his knee. Dutch got the gist and stepped out of his pants. Micah spits in his hand and began stroking Dutch's cock. Micah didn't unclothe he just used his other hand to unbuckle his belt and push his pants far enough down so that he can free his cock.
"Turn around." Micah ordered Dutch.
Dutch turned around bending ever slightly with his palms pressed flat against the wagon. Micah pushed his hands up to feel the small of Dutch's back. But slowly lowered them so Micah could cup Dutch's ass "Gotta lube ya up Dutch. How'd I do it? Less you want me to just-"
Dutch rolled his eyes not that Micah could see it "Got hair pomade, check the drawer." Dutch pointed to the side of the chuck wagon. Micah did just that and managed to find the tin. With haste, Micah put the Pomade on two of his fingers he reached down and applied it to Dutch's tight hole.
Micah fingered him, slowly at first but the moment Dutch began to moan "Micah's little slut are you?" Micah growled.
Dutch couldn't help but bite his lip and close his eyes. Dutch wouldn't lie, this has happened to him before hell he's even done it to himself. Finger himself while jacking off often brought pleasure to himself as Dutch has never known. But since Micah joined the gang. Well technically since Micah saved his life, Micah was on Dutch's mind 24/7. How many times has he silently apologized to Molly because of an accidental name-drop. In all fairness, her and Micah's name did start with an M.
But this was real, not some fever dream. Here he was using Micah and his 'sons' relationship issues to his advantage.
Dutch began to moan again "Been thinking about this long boss?" Micah said teasingly. Dutch's willingness was odd and his moaning confused Micah.
Dutch slowly nodded, Micah laughed, but his laugh was cut short when he heard horseshoes tapping the road and getting louder. Micah's eyes met a young traveler who started at Dutch and Micah with shock, Micah quickly grabbed his gun and shot at the floor near the horse's hooves "Get the hell outta here!"
The man rode away fast.
Micah turned back to Dutch and chuckled "Sick of waiting now Dutch."
Micah forcefully turned Dutch around and press his back up against the wagon. Micah raised Dutch's legs so they rested around his hips and Micah held Dutch up by the thigh.
Micah used the remained of pomade to coat his cock with, "line me up Dutch, gotta hold you."
Dutch reached between his thighs to grab Micah's dick and line it up with his ass "ah, 'kay."
Micah immediately thrust forward his dick finally entering Dutch. Dutch on the other hand had other ideas. Dutch raised his hand and punched Micah right on the jaw not hard enough so Micah would drop him, but hard enough to get his point through. Micah snarled immediately at Dutch "Fuck you do that for?!"
Dutch growled back "What do you want to skewer me?! Take it slow you bastard! Fuckin' hurt!"
Micahs eye twitches 'Arthur was a whole lot less of a fuss' he couldn't help but think.
Micah just sighed and stayed in him knowing it was probably gonna hurt if he pulled out. However, Micah could feel himself getting tired of holding Dutch so before his arms gave out Micah rushed Dutch to the back of the wagon kicked the tailgate so it fell open, and instructed Dutch to try and lay down all with his cock still in him "For fucks sake Micah."
Micah just huffed and allowed Dutch to comfortably get into a missionary position "What? Can't hold onto ya forever!"
Dutch just threw his head back and tried to ease the discomfort of Micah's hard dick causing pulsing pain, Micah just tilted his head to the side. From this position, he could be mistaken for Arthur. Micah reached down to Dutch stomach with one battered and calloused hand.
Micah couldn't help but press down on the flat yet strong area that was Dutch's stomach right above his hip "What are you doin'?" Dutch asked.
Micah just looked back up at him "Fucked Arthur in this position. Last time I did it he came so hard all over his stomach."
Dutch crossed his arms "Yeah well let's not worry about Ar-"
"Nah, you don't get it. I fucked Arthur. And I watched his cum coat his belly," Micah began to raise Dutch's legs higher "Heard there was a spot in women. Makes 'em whine and beg. Think I might have hit the male version of that spot when I fucked Arthur," Micah lowered his hand so he could grab Dutch's manhood and stroke his slick member, Micah began to tighten his fist around Dutch, his wrist moving up and down. Micah repositioned his hand. So that when his fist reached near the top, Micah could raise his thumb to stroke the tip of Dutch's dick "Heard it was called a...a... prostate? I think."
Dutch reached out and grabbed Micah's black coat by the collar, the more Micah stroked Dutch the more his mind began to wander away from the pain. Micah took this as his opportunity to move slowly. Not thrusting very hard just a slow but steady easing motion never letting go of Dutch.
Suddenly Dutch gave him the okay to move faster, Faster Micah did go. Stroking Dutch faster and pounding into Dutch faster "Micah!" Dutch squealed out.
Micah stared at Dutch's face, watching as it changed watching as the illusion came back. He was no longer looking at Dutch's face he was seeing Arthur move and moan.
"Micah!" With one final shout, Dutch felt Micah hit his prostate and continue doing so. When Dutch found the strength to open his eyes he watched Micah stare deeply into his eyes not saying a word nothing but heavy breaths and sharp inhales.
'could this be it? Could Micah finally love me more than Arthur?'
O B S S I O N
Micah began to lose it he felt himself jump off the bridge of ecstasy "I gotta cum, Arthur," Dutch had come on his stomach, but there was something that pulled Dutch out of ecstasy.
H A T R E D
"ARTHUR!" Micah howled as he let himself go completely. And as Micah came he draped himself over 'Arthur'. Pants of exhaustion Micah "Arthur-" Micah said in the crook of 'Arthurs' Neck.
"Arthur I am so-" when Micah pulled himself up to gaze at 'Arthurs' face swift reality him.
Dutch looked up at Micah with Rage mixed with a little hurt. Micah stopped himself and pulled away completely, he did it again. He did what Arthur left him to form Arthur may have dumped Micah flat on his ass but Micah still wanted him. Micah was willing to change.
A N G E R
Micah growled and took his cock out of Dutch and stuffed it back in his pants. Micah pulled his gun out of his holster and stuck it right under Dutch's chin. Dutch looked at Micah with anger and jealousy "Tell anyone, Arthur especially about this. And I will kill you."
Micah tucked his gun back in his holster and whistled for Baylock who was peacefully grazing.
________
The motives behind the betrayal of Dutch Van Der Linde and Arthur Morgan is unknown. What caused a father figure to turn the gun on his own son is a question that grew in the west and die in the Old America.
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castle-dominion · 10 months
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Castle 6x21 law and boarder
the skateboard episode liveblog
Foggy Skateboard motorized bike Love a good chase scene, u'd never be able to run away on board tho. Construction work? wet concrete or smth?
Castle totally would have gone through every permutation. (there is only one combination.) If you brag like that I wouldn't care if you lose Alexis & beckett <3 (someone already giffed) Caslt mr word man would NOT lose to beckett tho, unless he just got really unlucky with his words.
Becks is so pretty! (I miss s1 beckett tho) RC: Sounds like a scene from an action movie. JE: Yeah. I know. Especially when the biker started shooting and Logan crashed through that window right there. Wow cool casts. He's a young man, 2-4am he'd totally be out that late.
Always a sus key, why around the neck tho? KANIE LOVE KANIE LOVE KANIE LOVE I LOVE THE GIRLS girling out for a sec there & I'm so happy. Oh. I forgot that this episode was the one with ryan & esposito fighting like that... Actually since watching this ep, my fam was in a situation like that. My older (trans) brother is my dad's best man. Esp since dad's last best man was probably hella catholic & hates dad now for leaving his wife. which valid.
"Congratulations lanie" Thanks! Also idk who castle picked I'm not a boy! You really think it's one of you two? rysposito argument. he HAS spent every day lol KR: Oh Javi, I’m the obvious choice. If you can’t see it I can’t explain it to you.
Cool wall at her place! Ah tsa crap. Ooh skateboard tools! No wonder tsa would hate him. I know ppl who went to china for martial arts training (the sifu was some sort of ambassador & made good relations b/w canada & china) & came back with weapons. on the plane. Performance items, we called them.
Oof. I mean yeah that's like being a skaster for ya. (I should pic outfits. I like ryan.) Becks knows bikes! KB: Oh. A reigning champion unable to cope with defeat. (she looks to CASTLE with intent) That sounds familiar.
Wow a fight.
Wow cameras! I wonder who did the filming! She owned a motorcycle! Extremely handsome with a high degree of difficulty.
Like his hat & outfit. & austin. & tampa.
it looks like what it is what it looks like. (Yeah that's the definition of looking like smth) "omg life & death" ok shut up.
Wow early intro this time huh "My associate Mr. Castle"
"You hear about Logan's death or the break-in?"
Your GUN? Tony hawk my beloved. *looking up a pic of him bc idk what he looks like-- I can SORT OF picture him but idk if that's him. studying a photo of tony hawk every night before bed so I never become one of Those People.)
You remember the words exactly or are you paraphrasing?
Love the way castle walks with the coffee. Ooh castle is pretty! lol dark web moments THE-- THE ALBANIAN MOB? Albania is actually rly pretty.
lol esopsito OH RYAN'S FACE
mountain dew lol. Wow another semi-cool hat. Bummed? Look at this party. Ross De Koning: The albanian killed him? RC: what albanian? Me, speaking as RDK: you know, the albanian guy who yelled at him or w/e happened, isn't that why you're asking about the mob? Why else would you find a link to albanian organized crime?
Oh wait no it was 5 or 6 years ago. My man sent this guy to prison... the mom got seven years? enver who theoretically got the mom into it got less time? ugh.
Ooh lighting in this room, nice wood looking good... Found the Lord! I like it. You were willing to pay it? really? Get momma released early? That's kind of him! I like Enver!
RYAN GAVE HIM THE RECIPE? SECRET FAMILY RECIPE!?!? (even jenny's lol) Awkward pat on the back. Could clip, esp that facial expression. (but if I did i'd also clip ryan's face when esposito walked away after giving the novelty pen.)
Skateboarding with a heavy thing? Poor guy. I remember cycling to school with my backpack, lunchbag, zipper binder, & violin all on my back. Yeah. yeah...
Won't clip castle's eyebrows. Beckett totally let him win. Ooh it's a turntable of a scrabble game. Ah quixotic, idealistic to the point of unrealistic. Hm, they played an entire game of this, set design & writers, I wonder if it is legit.
I love the mythical Bill. They always say goodbye to Bill on the phone. I want Bill fanart. & by one of us I mean you. Ah true, bachelor party planning would probably be better by esposito. Ah true, Ryan is the high moral standing-- WAIT HE JUST CALLED HIMSELF PRETTIER XD "Did she beat you at scrabble again?" "is stephen king winning at texas hold em again?" "did somebody find naked pictures of you again?" (well the 2nd wasn't ryan but) JE: *pat pat* KB: ?
Wait I never grabbed an outfit pic! Noooo! Too late lol. Nice outfit today too but I think I've seen him wear it before & got a pic. Like how there was beckett's purple shirt that I saw in my clips when I was thinking about snapping a pic of it this ep-- turns out I got the shirt in a different ep already!
Ooh rock wall! I love climbing! Ooh maybe I should snap caskett's outfits. Oh. Good gravy. Lol there are easier ways to break in than lockpicks. Why go through the lock when you can just go through the door?
hi8? never heard of that. Hey becks is back to wearing that wierd beige thing...
That is why you never wear logos on your clothes.
Ah motorcross rider!
My man has adhd, motorcross performer? up in the middle of the night? jittering like that? yeah.
Ryan brought him a coffee sdjfoijsjjfkjlsdkjf *interrupts before castle can drink* *again* *almost again* *literally backs away* should I clip? no
that's where the 3k was from! He stayed inside? Why not escape with him? I mean yeah ask for a cut bro! *literally was criminaling right then*
Bacon brownies! "you had me at bacon" that was one of the last words he said bro. *lookingn ryan up & down like "you cockblocker" minus the cock* (actually new fic idea: ryan & esposito are trying to seduce Castle, & then at the end castle says "actually, I choose BECKETT!!" & the boys are like "well crap." & maybe it ends with "well now I have all this stuff for seducing men, whatever will I do with it?" & possibly *trying to impress eachother all along*) Ooh I can see names: sullivan-- WAIT SULLY'S STILL HERE! --& messer or w/e that one says (I saw it last ep too)
*cockblocking*
RC: Have you noticed anything odd about Me: ryan & esposito, yeah RC: ebosito & ryan Me: WHOM
OOoh love her hair! (Weird-nice. just sorry for you bc I beat you at scrabble.) My man looks like a baby. Or not I take it back.
HOO! I love ryan with a waistcoat that ties a bit tight on the lower back-- Mm! I'm gay but I'd be a lesbian for this man! (my 3d gender chess makes sense to me. except I suck at chess. I should post that.)
IDK TO CLIP BUT OH MY GOSH THIS. SCREAMING SCREAMING SCREAMING. CAN'T SAY WORDS. TOO MUCH TOO GOOD
when they were looking around I totally thought that they were going to suggest a dead body. bc then it is a third person not them & also it's funny bc homicide detectives. but No Way.
Poor gal, her son is dead... Ah yes, the good old days. Neighbourhood stuff. Six years-- didn't we hear that? Oh wait it was 5 or 6 years ago that ever want to jail
It's that neighbourhood? of course they don't care abt the death of the 12yo. Love a good old camcorder cassette. CSU would have noticed that
6 seconds is a lot! Toory unrealistic tech magic moments. makes my baby bro mad.
Why NOW? why running out of time?
Tommy Fulton: *immediately assumes they are accusing him of murder*
What plan? Brett Zaretsky: You can’t kick me out of here. This man’s my client. TF: Youre fired.
Cute, skateboard video! Love it! lol me & my brothers. Little bro rly good, better than me, I feel like crap. At least little bro isn't loud about it. Oh heck you watched the murder!? Holy crap! & that's why the cam was on the ground, u dropped it as soon as u saw the attack to go help.
was this in present time? WAIT THIS WAS BACK THEN? WHAT KID IN A BAD NEIGHBOURHOOD HAD 5 MIL TO SPARE LIKE A DROP IN THE BUCKET? oh at least it was smth he didn't actually have As A Kid.
DK logo! De Koning! I like how in the back some ppl were still partying for a minute there.
Brah
RC: And to think all of this happened because Ross couldn’t bear being second best. (pause) So. Are you ready for another rematch?
Man-chat? After all ryan & esposito are basically one person. Best of both worlds RC: Um … guys, I’m, uh– flattered & honoured– KR: You’re welcome. JE: Yeah, you should be. RC: He chose alexis! alkjsdfhljksdfhsdjadfkjhhfdjeyb I am love love love love I am so happy. They look almost mad in their shock (just like my brother. dad's best man. except he's not a girl. tho he is trans so idk.)
KR: I did not see that coming. JE: I can’t believe I gave him my pen. KR: I can’t believe I shared our family’s secret recipe. JE: I can’t believe we just got beat by a girl. KR holds out a finger. KR: Let’s never speak of this again. JE: Speak of what? (won't clip)
A midnight sing-along of Grease? a What?
Why did you do that?
Oh yeah they used to play poker, I remember when the captain & everyone was at his place & then they caught a murder late at night... Yeah that was fun.
Ooh heheh, look at these two. Love them sm She has a bra AND a watch left!
Could you play strip scrabble?
that was fun
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yanderart · 4 years
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He caught you when no one else did; defeated you when no one else could. Whether you liked to admit it or not, Eraserhead had clearly proven his worth.
So why didn't you prove yours, little villain?
Another portrait for my POV yandere series, this time of Aizawa. Got a few people requesting me to draw/write for him so hopefully y'all enjoy it 🖤
Below the cut, as customary for the series, is a longshot one-shot that delves further into the backstory (Aizawa x Villain Reader, nsfw, dark themes, 8k).
TWs: dub-con, graphic smut, Bad Bondage Etiquette, degradation/humiliation, brat (villain) taming, cumplay and slight bimbofication. Scumbag Aizawa is real.
— — —
   The day you met Eraserhead, looking back, saying your worries had been misplaced would be an understatement. With not being apprehended and losing street cred at the very top of your list, it was decidedly easy to skip over any of the other big red-lettered warnings.
   You first felt the tickle in your nape while you carried your acquisitions across downtown Musutafu, accompanied by the familiar presage of someone watching your every movement. The city around you was bustling, as was the norm, as loud and meandering in its complaints as a chronically diseased elder, yet the alleys you took as shortcuts grew quieter and quieter with each step. 
   It was eerie, alarming, and a platitude of other adjectives you shamefully chose to neglect. 
   “So this is the great V/N in the flesh,” the lazy cadence of someone calling out your alias froze you mid-step, the way his owner dragged each syllable telling you he hadn’t yet decided whether you were worth wasting his breath on. 
   Your body was responding before you even had a chance to properly process the threat, running on instinct and muscle memory as you twirled to face the mysterious man and prepared to...
   “Cute dress, kid.” Eraserhead in the flesh stood barely a few feet away, glowing scarlet orbs illuminating his preternaturally blank expression and transforming it instead into a visage of pure intimidation. “Didn’t pitch you for the frilly type.”
   The growing panic in your chest put a hitch in your breath as you stared back. Yet you couldn’t help but still try, fruitlessly hoping—hands clenched, nails puncturing your own flesh as you tried to force your dormant quirk awake. And all for naught, considering your efforts were only repaid by the hatchet of your sinking realization being buried even deeper. 
   Although, the Pro-Hero also appeared to notice your meager attempts, taking a few steps closer to your form with a condescending gleam in his otherwise somber features. 
   Before you were conscious of what you were looking at (and before you had half a mind to attempt a quirkless attack on the hero), you observed the weapon wrapped around his neck unfolding fluidly, the extensions of fabric reaching out to envelop you in a forceful embrace that left your arms tucked to your sides and your back uncomfortably straightened. 
   “Better to trap you before you get any wild ideas. It’s your fault you’re in this position in the first place anyways,” he was taunting you, prodding you and poking you as you found yourself completely at his mercy, uselessly struggling much in the same way many of your victims had surely felt in their last few moments at your hands. 
   "Eraserhead," his pseudonym resembled an insult on your tongue, your rage and resentment making for rather colorful enhancements. "Don’t you have anything better to do than trapping helpless girls with this weapon of yours? Didn't peg you for a pervert."
   Usually, you managed to reign in some of your nastier attitudes, channeling them into your quirk and the violence you could inflict with it…
   But tied up and under the influence of his own ability as you were? All you had was pettiness. 
   "You can dress up as a civ all you want. Won't be fooling me." He took several steps, closing the distance between you two with barely the hint of a smile morphing his stern expression.  
   You could see the faint stubble on his handsome face from this up close, blood-shot eyes that refused to blink as they studied you in ample detail. Could even see the scar carved onto one of his cheekbones, a textured promise of the fight he had survived and now wore as a medal. 
   Such was your luck, that the Pro to finally catch up with you had to be this rugged scumbag. 
   "I'm not even engaging in any criminal activities, Eraseridiot." Your insult was terrible, but you were never much of a verbal sparrer. Not when you could use your fists instead. "What are you gonna send me to the pigs for? I know my rights."
   And you did. So when the condescension on the lazy hero's face turned into a full-on expression of mockery as he approached your "bag of acquisitions," you audibly gulped. Goddamn stalker couldn't have been following you for that long? Could he? 
    If only you knew. 
   "Then," he held up the bag with an indolent brand of interest, the contents dangling tauntingly from his clutch. "How do you explain this over here? I reckon even dirt like you knows what stealing qualifies as." His other hand dived for the contents and before you could voice any protest, cheeks blushing furiously, a slow hint of a chuckle was bobbing his adam's apple. "It would be a fun thing to peg you down for, though."
   That damned weapon of his didn't give out an inch as you started to furiously struggle, becoming instead impossibly tighter with each futile attempt at freeing yourself.
   "You fucking psycho, is this your sick way of trying to pick me up or something?"
   But your quip did not deter him at all (if anything, it spurred him on). The hand inside the bag tensed for a moment before he was retrieving the sole object inside. To say mortification was written all over your face would be an understatement. 
   A dark pantyhose now hung from Eraserhead's nimble fingers, not a second being wasted by the Hero before he proceeded to bring it up to his face, carelessly stretching the garment until you could see every single one of his features through the sheer material. The way the moonlight caught in it, bouncing off and bathing his patronizing face, made for uncomfortably intimate imagery. 
   (Yet a part of you, one you would never admit existed if further questioned, also could not help but notice the striking attractiveness of it all, making you want to squirm for completely different reasons while the man continued to exert his quirk on you through the fabric of your fucking lingerie.)
   "Gotta say, didn't take you for a pantyhose kind of gal either. Girls like you…" He uttered the last part more like an afterthought, tossing the bag aside before his hands continued toying with the tights absentmindedly. "Are suited for something like fishnets much more."
   By that point, you were sure he was just playing with you. You were such a harmless joke, restrained and showcased like a prize for his viewing pleasure.
   "Reckon you must own quite a few pairs, uh?" He continued egging you on when you failed to give a timely enough answer. 
   (Perhaps the fact that he so easily guessed that detail should’ve been your first real warning, too.)
   Yet you couldn’t help how his condescension and the downright dirty way he stared at you sent dark shivers up your spine, the threat he represented turning strangely alluring under the dim street lights illuminating you both. 
   As a villain, you had robbed, murdered, set people ablaze, and even stolen a popsicle or two from some crying kids. So why were Eraserhead's words having such an effect on you? Why did, a part of you deep down, seemed enthused by the awful way in which he was speaking to you?
   "You don't have any proof I stole them. I just threw away the receipt after I bought them. Very environmentally unconscious of them, too, when electrical ones are a thing."
   Now you were just rambling. What an adorable sight. 
   "Hmm, never thought I'd hear "environmentally unconscious" being uttered by a two-bit criminal." He stopped stretching the lingerie for a moment, thoughtfully scratching at his incipient stubble with his free hand instead, "Are you really trying to sell me the good samaritan angle?"
   To his credit too, he seemed genuinely puzzled by your approach for an instant. Guess even an experienced pro like him still had room to be shocked. 
   "I'm not trying to sell you anything, imbecile." The snobbishly controlled tone of yours was back, the shaking of panic subsiding while you held onto your only hope of leaving this confrontation unscathed. "And my rights clearly state you need proof to apprehend me. Need causality to exert your quirk on me, too, or you would be the one breaking the law." 
   Now, Eraserhead wasn’t annoyed per se. You could tell from what little he had already spoken (and from the myriad of cautionary tales you had been told) that little could rattle the man at all, but your comment definitely appeared to intrigue him. It made you feel like an animal being studied, pinned down, and ready to be dissected for his own morbid curiosity.
   "Isn't this just rich?" His tone was almost lethargic, words dragging on with a faint rumble. "Are you going to run off to the police, then? Tell them how a Pro trapped you and tried turning you in for a very obvious act of theft?", his eyebrows were raised, eyes more awake despite his monotone voice carrying on. "Be my guest then."
   Because of course you were all bark, no bite and he was more than willing to call you out on your shit. So instead of continuing down that route, you decided to veer for a new approach, switching from your assortment of insolent tactics. 
   "Do you get off on this, then?" Your voice morphing into meekness while you adopted an expression of distress, bottom lip jutting out with the sparkle of thinly veiled sarcasm glimmering in your eyes. "Do you like thinking of yourself as the Big Bad Hero, maybe?" And you could tell by the way the incipient smile froze on his lips that your question had caught him off guard. Made you wanna press even harder, "Do you like the idea of taking a defenseless little girl into an alley and showing her just how bad you can be? Maybe planned on teaching me a lesson, is that it?"
   His frown mimicked yours now, no longer any hints of cruel enjoyment on his part. His eyes still glowed red, but he was now squinting ever so slightly, zeroing in on you not only due to the limits of his quirk but also due to the words rapidly continuing to escape your impudent mouth. 
   "Does Eraserhead like to fuck his lays into being law-abiding citizens? Is the power over someone else what really gets you off, perhaps?"
   It was like a spell was cast on the both of you. He couldn't drift his attention, his eyes couldn't stop scanning your face — quickly flickering from the hatred coloring your gaze to the slight quiver of frustration shaking your lips. The hand which he still used to grab your stockings was now a closed fist, knuckles growing pale from the poorly contained strength.
   "Bet you plotted this entire thing, you creep. Wanted to take me behind an alley and show me my place." Your taunts were becoming increasingly more risqué, the anger blurring your sense of preservation—and the hint of something else too, a secret excitement you were unwilling to recognize. "Wanted to have me all submissive and obedient under you, surely. Show me what a scary hero cock can do, is that it?"
   But instead of earning another entertaining grimace, you had a first-row seat to the rapidly darkening expression on his face. Eyes squinted at the same time that the bandages settled even tighter around you, cutting off your breath for a moment before relenting just enough not to suffocate you. 
    And that's when you first felt it for the first time, just when your jests died on your lips and you drank on his foreboding reaction. The grip of Eraserhead's quirk, more constricting than any ropes, wavering faintly around the prison he had constructed around you; the distinct buzzing in your hands returning for a mere instant before flickering out again.
   Now that was interesting.
   "Should watch what you're saying," the pro-hero sounded gruff, voice tinted by a new kind of intensity.
   Like a shark smelling the smallest whiff of blood, you couldn’t help your instincts urging you to dial down. 
   "Always knew you hero types had a hard-on for the power trips. Bet you were using all of this as a decoy. Is this when you strip me and hold me down? When you plow me into the floor of this alley and tell me to "behave or else"?" 
   You knew your jabs were going too far, getting too brazen… yet as much as you enjoyed making the Pro visibly uncomfortable, once he decided to close the distance between you two there was little you could do to stop yourself from flinching. A fire inhabited his expression, the vivid brightness emanating from his stare not only intimidating, but downright frightening too.
   "Are you trying to rile me up?" His hand gripped your face with force, bandages shifting until they were enveloping your neck, holding you up and forcing you to reciprocate his glare, "What do you think will you achieve by antagonizing me even more, V/N?"
   You just looked at him through your eyelashes, still somehow managing to play up the innocent act through the layers of fear settling in. And as expected, it only served to further his irritation, calloused fingers digging even deeper into your cheeks and coaxing the claws of terror to continue trailing their nails all around you. 
   "I’m just trying to understand you, Eraserhead." The way you smiled at him was defiance personified despite it all, your tongue wetting your lips while you caught his eyes following the movement. There was the slightest give of his quirk again, a fluctuation in his concentration informing you that you were finally on the right track. "And I think, given the fact that I haven’t been cuffed yet, that we can both still come to a mutual agreement."
   Fingers twitched around your jawline, muffling your words while your sides were squished together harshly. But even manhandling you, the Hero couldn’t hide the spark in his eyes, an interest you foolishly believed to be ignited by your former comments. 
   "So you are indeed trying to rile me up then." It was an assertion, not a hint of doubt in his leisure intonation. 
   Instead of replying this time, you just slowly blinked his way, observing your imitation of meekness reflected in a gaze that refused to abandon yours. It had been so long since you last tried to play coy, so long since you needed to depend on anything besides your own strength and ruthlessness. You couldn’t help the thrill you got from playing the role. 
   "Think you’ll get me distracted enough to break away, I bet." He was whispering directly against your skin after getting dangerously closer, the heat from his cushioned lips provoking an involuntary shiver. "Do you believe nobody else tried this approach before, little villain?"
   You gulped, feeling caught before you even had time to properly set the stage. 
   "I wasn’t..."
   "Weren’t what, trying to seduce me?" There was a sense of levity hidden somewhere under his timbre, stored between words that kept dragging on in a mantle of aloofness. "Or did you not mean any of your words?"
   When you didn’t reply, you could feel the cruel smile resurfacing against your earlobe. 
   "If I lift your dress right now, do you think I’ll have my answer?" His question sounded almost casual, as weightless as your alias had been when he first called you out. 
   Your heartbeat sang in your chest, an anxious hummingbird trapped inside your ribcage. Because you knew the answer, you both did. 
   When the hand still clutching your bunched hosiery came up to press the fabric against your thighs, you could not help the gasp that escaped you.
   "I bet all those things you were just saying…" His tone drifted off as the stockings were slowly guided up the vastness of your legs, fingers barely grazing you through the thin layer of the stolen undergarments. He was thoroughly teasing you, enjoying the manner in which your expression contorted in response. "You just want me to do them to you, don’t you?"
   Even if you would’ve wanted to object, the pressure of his nylon-covered digits finally reaching your dampened panties was enough to kill any possible refusal. He traced the outline of your slit, soft touches running across it with deceitful lightness, and your mind became positively staggered as you were rendered overwhelmed by his actions. 
   You didn’t have to worry about his next move for long, either, because barely a moment’s notice passed before his entire palm was eagerly covering your crotch. And the new way in which he groped you was demanding, the heel of his wrist putting just enough pressure to drag a shamefully loud mewl from you. 
   The douchebag even had the gall to laugh at your reaction, the sound of his mirth prompting you to writhe even harder as he continued to feel you up through your rapidly soaking underwear. 
   "Knew you’d be a slutty one." His breath was hoarse against the side of your face, the stubble on his jaw scratching against your skin in a way which made you wonder how it would feel pressing elsewhere. "So fucking wet, it must hurt being this eager."
   He didn’t specify what exact kind of pain he meant, whether your growing need for release or the insufferable blow all of this represented to your pride. Somehow, though, you had an inkling that he was referencing both. 
   "Wanna show me just how needy you are?" His words echoed with each laboured breath of his, one of the few signs you had that he was clearly very much into the whole affair despite his detached demeanor. "Maybe you could show me more of your adorable little cries." 
   As Eraserhead rutted his palm against you another time, you found your hips lowering down to chase the feeling much to your own chagrin, more moans making their way out of your panting mouth while he coaxed you to sing the notes of his preferred melody. 
   It was true that you hated his guts… but another fact was that you hadn’t had action in a long while either. Even with the threat of imprisonment hanging over you, you could not deny how desirable the idea to get to cum against that veiny hand of him was, to grip those muscular shoulders as you reached the perdition he was so tantalizingly offering. 
   Decidedly forgotten was your plan of you being the one distracting him. For fuck’s sake, you really were a needy whore. 
   "Why not show me how you cum for me in this alley, if you’re really that desperate?" His words kept getting cruder, his tongue tracing a languid stripe from your earlobe down to the side of your neck, a beautiful path of distractions threatening to dip your sanity even lower. "Be the dirty little villain that I know you are, doll."
   But just as soon as the stimulation was hitting you a second time, so it suddenly disappeared. One second fingers were flexing against your tender flesh, coated by your arousal through the layers of fabric separating you and fluttering with the promise of an impending release, and then the very next instant you were left to whimper (a villain like you, actually whimpering!) in the unbearable wake of their absence. 
   When your eyes searched for the Hero’s again, in his blown out pupils you could only dare interpret part of the enjoyment he was getting from watching you scram for his touch, beautifully bold handwriting spelling out arousal for all to read.  
   Watching you so easily betray your own ego after all of your lip service? More than simple music to his ears, it was an entire sonnet. 
   "But, now that I think of it, you were the one trying to walk away free from this. So why should you be the one getting pleasured?"
   Even in your precarious situation, you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. 
   "Are you fucking kidding me?" Apparently, your discomfort at being denied was enough to forego your better senses.
   The bindings contracted around you in quick response to your insolence, your neck being craned even further and your arms mishandled until they were behind your back instead of at your sides, a sharp pain blooming from your shoulders as you struggled to adjust.
   Treated like this, he really did make you feel like a helpless little doll. (Goddamn, that thought alone was enough to have your juices gushing again, the trails of your excitement starting to make a mess of your inner thighs.)
   "You don’t get it, do you?" He asked in a despondent voice, unblinking eyes still refusing to abandon your face as he elaborated, "you should already be on your way to some second-rate villain prison, cuffed and muzzled and someone else’s problem."
   At his reminder of what you believed to be your impending fate, the mocking pout on your face transformed into a retelling of real horror. Because your spotless reputation was the one trick in your book that had managed to give you a sliver of notoriety over the rest of the unremarkable criminals, much more significant than any quirk or grandiose crime. 
   So for someone like you to lose that? You might as well hang up the villain costume and retire, for all anyone would care. (And yes, you had been called an attention whore a lot throughout your life, but who could blame you when you couldn’t help but thrive on it?)
   Sensing your spiraling thoughts, the Pro raised his eyebrows in an almost pitiful stint, as if he was truly empathizing with the agonized look of your face. 
   "I know you don’t want that, doll." As his declaration dragged on, the grip that had been steadying your jaw was swapped instead for the peculiar feeling of damp fabric —your pantyhose being pushed against your cheek and spreading your own juices around, all while Eraserhead intently studied the new wave of disgust coloring your features. "So why not show me that even a villain slut like you can behave? Give me a reason to believe that and..." The slickered garment was now pressing to your closed lips, your eyes starting to water with the weight of the humiliation you were being made to endure. "Maybe then I’ll consider letting you go."
    You knew he was lying, had every right to doubt the sincerity of his promise and, in its place, conclude he just meant to take advantage of you in your desperate state and then leave you for the pigs to find anyway. 
    You knew all of that, and yet you still opened your mouth and allowed him to do as he pleased. When he worked the pair of soiled stockings inside, you had troubles recognizing the pathetic sight being reflected your way from the wild hue of his gaze. 
   For someone who had always prided herself in being a predator, you had never looked more like prey.
   "Fuck, that’s it, doll." He pushed the piece further with his fingers, forcing you to stretch your lips until your jaw started to hurt from the strain. His fingers swirled inside, pressing the soaked material against the flat of your tongue and instructing you to eagerly lick it.
   You had never felt as debased in your entire life, being forced to choose between savoring your own arousal while tied up in an alley or ruining a reputation you had fought so earnestly to maintain. 
   (And yet your thighs were pressing together now, attempting to create some meager friction to alleviate a yearning that did nothing but shift, demand, grow.)
   "Look at you cleaning up your own mess," he almost sounded proud of you as you kept dutifully sucking, his other hand brushing your hair away from your shoulders in a strangely consoling way. "Seeing you all obedient like this, one could be fooled into thinking there is yet hope for reform."
   By the time the Hero finally took his hand away, bunching up the stockings before fitting them into one of the hidden pockets of his dark costume, you thought you could discern a mocking smile through the clouds of tears.
   "But now, now, doll… are you gonna keep crying or do you wanna try and take proper care of me next?"
   Not finding it in yourself to raise your voice again, you instead opted to wet your lips hesitantly as you awaited for him to elaborate further. There was a question dying to be asked, struggling somewhere alongside the myriad of insolent retorts and insults you wished you could swing the Hero’s way without being harshly reprimanded. 
   "I wouldn’t call that proper exactly," a chuckle reverberated from the back of his throat, gravely and dark as he misrepresented your movements. Fingers still slick from your saliva caressed your bottom lip, massaging it in a way which played straight into the undermining tilt of his words. "Although I’m sure you must be dying to wrap your pretty lips around my cock. Would give you a good reason to stay quiet, uh?"
   You really had been intending not to fall for his obvious goading, not trying to give the Pro anymore reasons to be harsh with you (or even worse, give him an excuse to leave you alone and to a fate worse than his company ever would be). 
   Had tried so hard too, but the cocky villain in you could only take so much degradation before it snapped. 
   "Goddamn it, are you trying to fuck me or bore to death?" As for the slight quivering in your voice, you dearly hoped he wouldn’t pick up on it. 
   Predictably enough, that slip earned you another harsh tug from the capture weapon, your whole body pulled back until you thought you were about to be snapped. 
   "I was just about to praise you for being all sweet for me, V/N." The switch from his pet names to your alias felt like a bucket of ice being dumped on you, voice a slow drawl while he tugged once more from your bottom lip, but this time harsh enough to have you wincing. "I’m trying to teach you how to be a proper girl, so don’t make me regret it. Or would you prefer to go take a prolonged vacation in a holding cell?"
   He already knew your answer judging by the way his eyes coldly studied you, unearthing the secrets you uselessly attempted to hide with an ease that unnerved you (and, as much as you loathe to admit, fascinated you). 
   When he tugged at your mouth again, nails sinking just enough to be noticeable, you knew he was expecting a verbal answer. And a nice one, at that. 
   "Then fucking get on with it…" Words slurred at the end, caught up in the increasingly somber aura of your captor before you swallow thickly, quickly adding as an afterthought, "Please."
   At that, his scowl receded enough for some satisfaction to find its way back into his grimace.
   The more you struggled, the sweeter your surrender became.  
   "Not perfect, but better," he conceded with a thoughtful hum.
   If you had properly studied just who he was beyond his active Heroism, then you would’ve understood just how accustomed he was to insubordination. If anything, your act only served to make him feel more at home.
   You had barely any time to wonder about whatever he had planned next though, because in an instant that damned contraction of his was moving you around once more, twisting you until you were facing the brick wall of the alleyway with heaving breaths. 
   Your legs were now maneuvered until you were forced to keep them apart just a smidgen, the new inviting space between your thighs surely a most intoxicating promise for the sick man manhandling you. And your back experienced pain afterwards too, harshly pushed until you had no option but to allow yourself to be pressed against the dirty walls; As a result, you found yourself with your ass backed up and for the world to see, the frilly skirt of your dress caught somewhere between all the movements.
   Yet even being roughed up as you were, when a hand reached out to tug your ruined underwear away you couldn't help greedily rutting into it, too worried by the fire gathering in your lower belly to care about maintaining a semblance of the reluctance you would later claim to have experienced. 
   It was almost comical for the Hero to observe the pathetic image you were now serving up on an ornate platter —especially when compared to the list of deviant crimes and horrors your spreadsheet of accomplishments preached. For all intents and purposes, you really were a horrible, messed up individual…
   So it was a wonder why his mind had kept supplying him with the same descriptor ever since he first saw you, the same sweet little word that he thought might as well be written all over your skin for how accurate it described you.
   A cute little doll (soon to be his cute little doll). Despite believing himself to be a fairly responsable Hero, the man had never wanted to play with anything as much as he did with you.
   The sound of a zipper being lowered was alarmingly loud in the emptiness of your surroundings, as loud as a wail to your sensitive ears. When you squirmed below your restraints, nonetheless, you could no longer pinpoint whether it was from unadulterated fear or a sick sense of anticipation.
   How easy it had been to break you, even if you would never recognize it openly.
   "Knew you were into it, and now watch your ass trembling in excitement for me." He was chuckling again, not pretending like the cruelty coating his words had any other intention but to degrade you further. It had been just his luck, to find the one villain who just so happened to enjoy it. "I really hit the jackpot with you, didn’t I, doll?"
   When the lewd sound of one of his fists pumping his cock reached your ears, you didn’t even bother disguising the whines of complaint refusing to be contained any longer. 
   "Stop..." Words spilled from clenched teeth, growled out with an annoyance that no longer sought to defy, "Fucking..." but to demand instead, "Teasing."
   "Hmm, that’s cute. Why don’t you try begging me though?" His cadence was growing as bated as his breath, littered by intermittent curses as his eyes dined on the sight of your glistening core, held up and offered up for him to do as he pleased. "Beg for me to use you, and if you put on a good enough show I might just let you off."
   Another shiver rampaging it's way through your body, an exhilaration that could not be entirely pinpointed. 
   "Please…" You started, rough intonation dripping with venom —But Eraserhead didn't seem to mind the sardonic nature of your pleading though, not as you heard the litany of damnations being spilled from his lips. Your shameful excitement, your bitterness, your hatred… he would feast on it all and do it gladly. "Get on with it, bastard. Didn't anyone tell you never to toy with your food?"
   A low murmur was your only response at first, followed by the lewd sound of his pre-cum covered cock being harshly jerked.
   "Hmmm, aren't you being a bit too demanding…" His steps echoed again behind you, his unoccupied hand coming up to massage your ass with a rather firm grip. "Even with the begging, I don't think you've learned your place yet."
    When he planted a slap in the same place he had been eagerly caressing before, sharp and flaring up your nerves with the sting of pain and humiliation, you couldn't stop your scream from turning into a wanton little moan halfway through. 
   Even if he was hitting you, it still meant he was touching you, and so enticingly close to the place you actually needed tended to.
   "Do it…" your breathing was too heavy to speak in full fluid sentences, body flushed and mind filled with the buzzing of desire. "Do it again, fuck."
   You were still not begging him like he asked, but it seemed like your choice of words still greatly pleased him. Another slap rained on your ass, his big warm palm massaging the same reddening spot right after.
   And he kept going, the spanking echoing through your body and sending both pain and pleasured shivers up your spine—lewd sounds mixing in with the increasing pace of his other fist pumping his cock. Even without directly touching you, your pussy clenched and weeped with each firm hit. 
   "Damn, it's my first time meeting such a masochistic whore." Punctuated by his most painful slap yet, the globes of your ass left trembling and a furious shade of crimson to match his lust-filled eyes. "I can see why you've managed to stay free for so long, little villain." The debasement, paired with the pain of his firm strikes, had you moaning even louder. You couldn't even recognize your own sounds, nor the thrills you felt at this entire fucked up ordeal. "Wonder how many other Pros you showed this beautiful sight to."
   Even through the fog of sensations impeding you from being wholly coherent, though, you still couldn't help but want to set the record straight. 
   "None, fuck…" Words merging into another expectant whine when you felt his hand gripping your flesh again, only this time he was kneading you in an oddly tender way —Urging you on, fingers creeping closer to your needy hole. "I'm not… usually in the business of fucking Heroes. Shit, I hate this…" 
   But you didn’t, and when you were surprised by the warmth of his naked erection barely grazing the sensitive outer lips of your cunt, you couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped you. 
   "Goddamn, V/N, even while you're an ill-mannered brat you still manage to know just what to say." 
   And then the older man was sliding his cock in the juncture of your thighs, teasing your core by pressing against it while grunts began to escape him. You thought you could cry from having him so close yet still not where you wanted him, but then his shallow thrusts against your legs proved to be much more stimulating than you first expected. 
   The fat head of his cock even managed to somewhat stimulate your puffy clit with its movements, pushing in its direction as your essence continued to leak out and cover you both. And It was so absolutely debauched, to think a Hero was using your thighs like a fucktoy while you were tied down and unable to stop it....
   But it felt so good. Even without him actually in you, you had never been this turned on before. 
   "More… ughhh," you were now screaming with the side of your face pressed flush against the disgusting brick walls, needy sounds filling the night and making it privy to your descent into madness.
   Another thrust, this time angled just precisely enough not to caress your pleasurable areas. Punishment, you feverishly thought while you attempted to wiggle your ass, eager to force more of that delicious friction you were quickly becoming hypnotized by. 
   "Now, V/N," his gruff voice had adopted a mocking tone of reprimand as he continued to rut against the soft skin of your thighs. "Haven't I taught you anything, yet? If you want something…" The hand returned to your heated skin, digits underneath you both spreading your pussy enough for the chilly night air to send shivers straight to your core. "You gotta say please."
   And say please you did. Screamed it even, so eager for more and already far beyond feeling any embarrassment. 
   He didn't fuck you, not like you really wanted, but suddenly his thick shaft was sliding between your lips as his capture weapon aided him in angling your body just right, pulsing against your hole while he found a new rythimn. When both of his hands returned, one of them held you back to make the process even easier while the other swiftly joined his cock in tending to your eager pussy.
   So lost were you in the new raw excitement seizing you, in the knowledge of just how messed up you both were for engaging in such debauchery —so distracted that you didn't even notice the faint buzzing returning to your arms, the vibrancy of an old frequency being reactivated and allowed to encapsulate you again.
   (You didn’t notice, but fuck if it didn’t made your orgasm all the sweeter.) 
   You were cumming like that, your moans resembling squeaks, your body feeling closer to a used fucktoy than a human being. The hero kept rutting against you, the joint efforts of his cock and hand mercilessly continuing to abuse your spasming cunt while your cries filled the space with their decadence. 
   You felt dirty, guilty, maybe even a little ashamed as the orgasm briefly gave you a clarity of mind your arousal had clouded.
   And yet, despite it all, it had been the best you felt in years, possibly ever. As the Pro now tugged your hair, forcing you to wrench your neck just enough to look at him over your shoulder, you couldn't help licking your lips in expectation of what he had in store next.
   "You're gonna show me your face next time you come, little villain." He gave you just enough time to nod, eyebrows drawn as your pleasure got impossibly dragged out by the stimulation he still bathed you with. "And you're gonna keep begging me, keep showing me why you deserve to stay free, okay?"
   It was commendable, how collected he managed to sound while thrusting into your thighs like that, the sounds of skin slapping against skin driving each of his words home. 
   "Yes, fuck, whatever you want…" Despite your senses shortly coming back earlier, you were still too far gone to rethink your poor choices. You just knew you wanted more, and so you asked for it. "Just give me more, please."
   So fucking obedient. If your parents could see you know, their failure of a villain daughter being all proper and learning to beg for what she wanted? Well, perhaps saying they'd be proud was a stretch, considering you were also the one getting fucked in the middle of a filthy alley. 
   What you hadn’t expected, however, was just how well your begging would work. 
   Because the next thrust of his shaft was not between your legs, but aimed to finally breach your needy cunt instead, easily filling you up in one go with how utterly soaked in both of your juices you already were. The girth of him had you already clenching with renewed vigor, his hand stopping his assault on your clit just to give you enough time to truly savor the new intoxicating sensation.
   And when your eyes found his again, so drunk on the waves of pleasure you were that you also failed to notice the lack of scarlet coloring the orbs boring into yours, now inescapable voids of dark desire and a type of intense fixation you thought hadn't been there moments ago. 
   (Or maybe it was always there, and you had been too busy with your own turmoil to notice the clues being left by your so-called enemy).
   "Want me to stuff you properly?" His guttural question hit you at the same time as his sharp movements found your tender spot with experienced ease, walls tightening around him while your entire body struggled to continue holding yourself upright, relying more and more on the capture weapon to keep you from toppling over. 
   The binds still hurt from how tightly they wrapped around you, bruises sure to be left on their wake, but by that point you weren't so sure anymore the sting was an entirely bad thing. If anything, it just made the pleasure all the sweeter by comparison.  
   "Want me to fill you with so much cum that you reek of hero cock for the rest of the week?" He laughed while he regurgitated some of your words from earlier, the hand pressing against your lower stomach caressing you with a distinct sense of ownership as he elicited another loud moan with a sharp movement of his hips. 
   Noticing you reacting not only to his actions but to his quips, you could practically hear the self congratulatory smirk as he spoke next.
   "Bet the other villains would love knowing how much of a cockhungry whore you turned into too, doll. Talk about fraternizing with the enemy."
   And he was right, in a way. Because what would your fellow villains think, seeing you being wrecked by one of the most infamous Pros in the business, lowering yourself to pleading and screaming as he rearranged your insides. 
   Would you get called a disloyal whore or just a plain traitor? Not only would your spotless reputation and the myth you had fought to build collapse, but from its ashes your eternal shame could be erected. 
   A shame that would tower over you, looming around you while the eyes of your peers followed you everywhere. You could even picture the jests veered your way, the looks of utter disgust and ridicule...
   Somehow, the idea of anyone finding out only made your screams grow louder, impossibly more fervent. 
   "Fucking… get on with it."
   However, his rhythm was rapidly interrupted after your jab, his cock pulling out almost entirely as your core convulsed with the sudden staggering emptiness it was left to grapple with. More whimpers, struggling against the set of eternally unforgiving ties encasing your body. 
   "But you're making me do all the work, little one" Another slap shook your entire frame as it landed heavily on your still pained cheeks. You were so sore, both from the previous set of hits and from the sheer exhaustion starting to set in, muscles tight and resentful from the awkward positions your body had been manhandled into. "If you really want to continue this, how about you start doing some of the heavy lifting, uh?" Just like before, his palm started massaging the tender spot he had just smacked, fingers digging into your supple flesh being as close to comforting as the Pro seemed capable of. "Show me just how good you can be."
   And you could've argued, truly, could've even attempted to hold onto the last vestiges of your pride…
   You could’ve done a lot of things, but the truth was that when his weapon relented its hold at last, retreating from the underside of your knees and giving in just a smidge for the first time since you had been captured, you didn't waste any seconds before you were chasing after your high with renewed vigor.
   Greedily sinking into him with an obscene sigh, you audibly marveled at the curve of his member being deliciously imprinted in your insides. While you copied the cadence the Hero had previously employed, his grip on your lower belly fluttered, almost like he couldn't decide whether to take control back or allow you to humiliate yourself further with your own zealousness. 
   It seemed like the later prospect won him over in the end though, because he remained almost impassively still as you did all the work needed to bring you both deliriously close to your peaks. 
   The sight must've been spectacular, watching you, renown villain V/N, so thoroughly broken and willing to heed his every command. Impaling yourself on his cock, moaning and continuing to beg him for something you were already taking for yourself. 
   If he died right then and there, he doubted Heaven wouldn't have as much appeal as the scene still unfolding before his eyes. (But again, considering his actions, Heaven wouldn't really be the right place for either of you.)
   You were just about to reach your second orgasm, toes curling inside your shoes, fists clenched and a face that spelt poetic extasis. Angling the way you took his cock, every single movement driving him painstakingly deeper, slamming against a spot that made you imagine the stars falling from the sky all around you, their light being the one bathing you instead of the malfunctioning street lamps. 
   So goddamn close…
   Only to have him pull out again, this time completely. You were clenching against nothing, all stimulation stolen from you, and the bitterness of a ruined orgasm promptly dragged curses and complaints out of you before you could even think to stop them. 
   Eyes searched his, urgently seeking an explanation for his withdrawal only to find his glare fixated instead on that same dirty pair of stockings that had started it all. 
   Eraserhead must have taken the garment out of his pocket sometime while he fucked you, unfolding it from its scrunched up state until the crotch was visibly presented for both of you to admire, dark sheer fabric still stained from a mix of your arousal and spit. 
   When the Pro looked at you again, a beautifully dark smile topped his attractive face. He looked painfully content, the way he studied your own mortified expression reminding you of an artist studying his masterwork. 
   "Only the truly obedient ones get their cunts filled." You noticed then how his other hand was jerking him off again, erection rubbing against the nylon undergarments in a most obscene depiction. Too bad you were too frustrated to appreciate any of it. "I don't think you've… hell, you haven't earned it yet, V/N."
    You didn't even notice you were tearing up from the annoyance until it was too late. And maybe that was what finally did it, seeing you actually crying at his refusal to breed you like the slut you both knew you were, writhing in exaggerated despair as you found yourself feeling jealous of a stupid pair of tights, because not long after your pathetic reaction the man was letting out a pained groan of his own and spilling himself all over the damned garment. 
   But instead of rubbing your wailing in your face after he came down from his own delicious high, last few spurts of cum slowing down to a halt, you were surprised instead by the weapon that had been binding you for the longest time finally retreating.
   As expected, you unceremoniously collapsed to the floor, feet now unprepared for supporting your weight and your entire being wholly exhausted after enduring the roughest fuck you had ever experienced. It hurt all over, although you weren't sure whether your still present longing wasn't what pained you the most. 
   When you looked up to the Pro again, trying to find an answer to the new freedom you were experiencing, you were surprised by having the cum-dripped stockings thrown in your face. 
   And quite literally so, the still wet seed dribbling down your cheek and into your trembling lips, all before you collected enough wits to grab the offending item and pull it down with an expression of unadulterated disgust. 
   "Sorry, doll, but you were pouting so irresistibly," The Eraser user actually laughed, this time the sound coming with an untroubled merriment you did not think he was capable of.
   He actually looked worn out while he tucked himself back into his costume, accommodating the pieces of clothing until all hints from your ravenous affair disappeared. The bandages were wrapping themselves around his neck once more, looking more like an extravagant scarf than the most precise set of inmovilazing gear you had ever endured. 
   However, something about his attitude had you forgetting all about his newest slight, much too worried by a new cause of worry. 
   "Hold on..."
   Eraserhead looked down at you from his place after you raised your voice, urging you to continue as he finished getting himself presentable. The air of nonchalance around him was almost more intimidating than any of the actual threats or vulgar comments he had voiced prior. Almost.
   "Are you…" you swallowed the sudden lump in your throat, voice still raspy and hoarse after what had just transpired. "Are you really letting me go?"
   The man just raised one of his eyebrows at that, eyes crinkling for the first time and looking strangely amused. 
   "Doll, I stopped exerting my quirk on you while I was still teasing you good and proper," he declared bluntly. When his orbs glimmered again, you now felt like an imbecile as you finally realized they had completely lost the reddish hue to them. "So you know what? I thought you deserved to get an out of jail free card for behaving yourself… even if you still need to work some more on your manners."
   To call your shocked expression dumbfounded would be a disservice. 
   When his now bottomless eyes bore into yours for one final time, all you could do was stare back in dazzled shock. Your quirk was back, the Pro himself had just confirmed it, and yet you were still nailed to the spot, still anticipating his next words without even thinking of attacking him in the meantime.
   One little tumble and you were already his brightest pupil yet. He was now so glad to have waited that long, it only made the outcome all the more fulfilling. 
   "You don’t need to be so surprised, Y/N, we'll be seeing each other soon,” He kneeled in front of you for an instant, both hands reaching out to hold up your face in a gesture more resembling a lover than… well, whatever the hell you two were. So entranced you were then, that the use of your real name barely even registered. “It’s been difficult to keep you away from trouble thus far,” his acknowledgment reverberated in the alley, its meaning something else lost to you as you couldn’t help but become entranced by the new peculiar softness he addressed you with, “but getting you like this now, seeing you break so easily… fuck, I’ll mold you right back up, doll, you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about anything else.”
   And just then, for the first time you realized, the Hero’s lips were brushing against yours gently, uncharacteristically careful as he kissed you slowly. Even his hands were tender while they guided you, treating you as if you truly were a doll that could just be snapped with a mere wrong movement. As if he hadn’t just been treating you like a dirty hole for him to use and abuse just short instants ago. 
   But at least he did not seem to care about the mess that was your face at the moment, about the cum stains or the still damp trails of tears. And, for whatever reason, you found yourself returning the gesture in kind, melting into the oddly affectionate touch of a man you were still halfway sure you loathed. 
   Even after he left you, alone and a mess still toppled over on the floor with the shadow of humiliation cloaking your shoulders, your fingers couldn’t help but touch your lips with a bizarre mixture of bewilderment and horror.
   He told me I would see him soon, your mind supplied as you found yourself irreparably fixating your stare on the pair of now completely ruined tights you were still holding onto. The fact that you felt any type of excitement about the notion did not fail to mortify you. 
   God, even for villain standards you were fucked. 
But it was okay, because misery loved company and, with time at his disposal and the right amount of coaching, Shouta was sure he could teach you to properly crave his soon enough.
— — — 
And, 8k of foul smut later, if y’all read through that whole thing... drop by my ask to recieve your congratulatory gold stars! ⭐ (jk but I do appreciate hearing y’alls thoughts, it’s what keeps me halfway productive 🖤)
Last but not least, very special thanks to my best pals @reinawritesbnha​, @snappysnapo​ and @drxwsyni​ (who actually proof read this and helped me out immensely with her Big Brain Feedback. A TALENTED ANGEL). 
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fific7 · 3 years
Text
Cold Day in Hell - Part 1
Logan Delos x Reader
A/N: This does not completely follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 because the world needs more Logan Delos.
Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in future chapters. Drinking and swearing.
*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.
(My GIF)
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Logan Delos was bored. Mind-numbingly, screamingly, terminally bored. He was rapping out an irritated drum solo on the arm of his chair with his long fingers. He was shifting in his seat, constantly crossing and un-crossing his long legs. He was moving the papers on the conference table in front of him from side to side, then backwards and forwards.
The businessman who was talking through the main presentation had a voice that was flatter than roadkill and had only one tone... monotone.
Logan leant forward and propped his elbows on the conference table in front of him, using his fingers to physically hold open his eyelids as they kept closing of their own accord. He felt a yawn coming on and fought to stop his mouth opening to accommodate it... but failed.
He was aware of the door to the conference room opening behind him but didn’t even have the energy to turn and see who it was. This asshole is draining the fucking will to live out of me, he thought. He vaguely heard said asshole saying something about his colleague talking through the next section of the presentation.
Logan sat right up in his seat as he spotted a beautiful - no, stunning - woman making her way to the front of the room. She was dressed in ‘business smart’ but even those sensible items couldn’t hide her curves. Her hair was pinned up, and he had already started fantasising about loosening it and running his hands through it. He wished he’d paid attention when Asshole had said her name. Or had he said her name? Logan had no idea.
He heard her starting to speak, a melodic voice... he had to know her name! Logan tutted and picked up the meeting agenda, riffling back and forth through the pages to get to the correct one, but wasn’t even sure what page he should be on. Suddenly the folder tumbled from his hands and clattered onto the floor. The talking stopped and he became aware of everyone’s eyes on him, including hers. In fact, she was kind of glaring at him.
He gave an apologetic wave to the room in general as he retrieved the folder from the floor. She began speaking again, and he resumed his page-riffling. Finally he found the current one, and there was her name in black and white. A melodic name to match her voice, he thought.
He started paying attention to what she was actually saying.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
You’d just started your part of the presentation when some asshole dropped his agenda folder, the sharp noise bringing you to a screeching halt. When you saw a hand waving around in the air, your eye followed the arm down to its owner and noted that he was in fact a very good-looking asshole. But he was still an asshole.
You cleared your throat, trying to collect your thoughts and then launched back into your presentation. The asshole was now staring at you relentlessly; every single time your eyes swept the room, his dark eyes were on you. Like... always on you. Not like the others, who were at least glancing down at the handouts occasionally.
The section you were presenting drew to a close, and you now took an empty seat at the table. It was diagonally opposite the handsome asshole. Who was still staring at you.
Now that you were much closer, you could see that his eyes were a dark chocolate brown, with a wicked gleam in them. They matched his shining dark hair, which was immaculately swept back from his forehead. You boldly met his stare for a while, before breaking eye contact to listen to your colleague Craig deliver the final part.
At the end of the presentation there were a few questions which were duly answered, and then everyone was gathering up their paperwork and milling around prior to leaving the conference room. As you tucked your folders away in your document bag, in your peripheral vision you became aware of a pair of long legs making their way to you. You knew who it was bound to be so you didn’t bother looking up. A throat cleared next to you but you continued packing away your items, and then you heard your first name being spoken in a low, husky voice. This time you did look up - it would be rude not to - and yup, it was Handsome Asshole. A hand was proffered to you and by reflex you took it, your hand being crushed in a strong grip. “Logan Delos,” said that suave voice, “...it’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart?” you scoffed, “...how original!” while thinking, oh... so this is the infamous Logan Delos, whose name you’d heard all the time in connection with the projects but never actually met before. He had a reputation of being a bit of a diva. You heard him give a deep chuckle. “Yeah, that’s me - an original. Unique, in fact I’d say.” “Well, you’re super confident, that’s for sure!” You picked up your document bag and headed for the door, saying “Nice to meet you, Mr Delos,” as you started to leave. His tall frame scooted round in front of you before you could reach it, “Oh, not so fast.... I can’t let you leave before you agree to have dinner with me.” You tried to sidestep him but he blocked your way, and then a little ‘step to the right, step to the left’ dance ensued. Finally, exasperated, you stood still and put your hands on your hips. “Mister Delos! Will you please let me past!” He copied your stance, “Not until you say you’ll have dinner with me. Or lunch. Or.... breakfast, if you prefer?!” wiggling his eyebrows at you. You huffed, “I don’t date business partners!” He still stood in front of you, seemingly immovable, “We’re not business partners - technically speaking. Boring Asshole is my business partner, not you.” Your mouth dropped open but before you could stop it, laughter bubbled out.
You hastily silenced it, saying, “I admit, Craig may not be the most inspiring public speaker, but he really knows his stuff,” trying to cover your somewhat indiscreet reaction and save your colleague’s honour at the same time. “But that’s beside the point, Mr Delos, because we are business partners despite what you’re trying to say.” Logan had moved slightly aside while you were speaking and you took this opportunity to brush past him, calling out, “Goodbye, Mr Delos,” with the emphasis on the goodbye as you went.
If you’d bothered to look back, you would’ve seen Logan Delos watching you go, a very determined expression on his face.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Juliet looked up from her laptop as Logan breezed into her lounge, tossing his car keys onto the coffee table and throwing himself onto the sofa, long legs spreading out in front of him as he did so.
“Good meeting?” she asked, seeing that his head had gone back onto the cushions and he was staring up at the ceiling. He hummed, “Good and bad. The presentation was the single most boring thing I’ve ever heard in my life, but on the other hand one of their staffers.... wow! It was like an angel came down from heaven and found her way into that conference room.” She sighed, “Logan... by all that’s holy... do not try to screw one of our business partners for god’s sake! Dad will go ballistic if you mess up our working relationship with them.” Logan looked offended, “Who says I’d mess it up?” Jules gave a big sigh and shrugged, “Me, for one. Dear brother, I love you with all my heart but you’re fucking awful at relationships. You’d just fuck her and drop her like a hot potato. Who is it that caught your roving eye this time anyway?” Logan said her name in a dreamy tone and Jules rolled her eyes heavenwards, “Oh, no, no, no!... no way, Logan. I know her, she’s a lovely person and also does a fantastic job - she’s one of their top software engineers, specialising in middleware.”
Logan smirked, “She can engineer my middleware anytime she likes.” “Oh, shut up and get your mind out of your pants, Logan. Stay away, okay?!!” He huffed, “Hey! You can’t tell me who to pursue or otherwise, Jules!” “But that’s it, right there - you’ll chase her, catch her, bang her and drop her! I really like her as well as respecting her work, so you better just be damn careful!”
Logan sighed. He loved his sister but god, she was a king-size pain in the ass sometimes.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
A week or so later, and you’d almost forgotten about that handsome asshole at the presentation. You couldn’t deny that he’d popped in and out of your thoughts since, but you’d googled him the day after you’d met him and had also made some discreet enquiries amongst those colleagues who’d worked with him before on projects. What you’d discovered had not endeared him to you.
He was a world-class player, that was obvious - and not fussy about which gender he played around with either. Not that that put you off, it was just the sheer volume of men and women he was pictured out on the town with. And alcohol and substance abuse had been there in the mix too, with some stays in rehab mentioned although the last one had been over a year ago. So no... you’d decided you wouldn’t be entertaining any further thoughts of the undeniably attractive Mr Delos.
You turned your thoughts back to the current middleware solution you were constructing, in fact it was for Delos Corporation, involving various scenarios for their Westworld hosts. You were immersed in code and structure when your phone rang, and you saw your boss’s extension number on the caller ID. Hmmm... what could she want? She usually gave you free reign when you working on a project, catching up with you every couple of days at team meetings. Answering it, you heard her assertive voice asking you to pop along to her office and so you set off on the short walk there. You knocked on her door and heard her say ‘come in’, so in you sailed and then came to an abrupt halt. Logan Delos was sitting opposite your boss; he was half-turned towards you with a somewhat triumphant smirk on his face. Your boss indicated the chair next to Logan and you quickly sat down, wondering what this was about and why Logan looked so smug.
Your boss launched into a mini-summary of what you were currently working on, and all you could do was nod. Eventually she finished up with, “So all your current projects are for Delos.” It was a statement not a question, so you just nodded. “Mr Delos here...” she levelled a hand towards Logan, “....has come up with a suggestion, and I happen to think it’s a good one.” She smiled at Logan, before looking back at you and continuing, “He thought it would be beneficial to have the person working on most of his projects - that’s you, just to clarify - to be based at Delos Destinations for the next three months, to facilitate progress.” You knew you were looking completely dumbfounded as she hurried on, “Obviously I’d like your input on this, but I’m sure you can see that it’d be very helpful for you to be on-site with our partners while you’re working through the projects?” Meanwhile you were desperately trying to come up with reasons to remain in your own office, but truthfully you couldn’t. It would be helpful to have instant access to their engineers when you needed an answer on something, you couldn’t deny that. Reluctantly you nodded, “Yes...I can appreciate that. But couldn’t we just have me spend maybe one or two days a week over there rather than be actually based in their offices?”
Logan spoke for the first time, his expression business-like now, “That wouldn’t really fulfill the brief though, would it? Because we’d be back to having a slight delay in receiving and giving responses for the time you weren’t at our offices. And I’d ... we’d... make you very welcome. There’s an office waiting for you... right next to mine.” He couldn’t stop that smirk reappearing as he finished speaking. You forced a smile, “Well, I can’t really refuse an offer like that, can I Mr Delos?” You looked back to your boss, “I guess that’s agreed then. When does this take effect?” Your boss beamed at you, “Excellent! I don’t see any reason for it not to commence immediately, do you? How about as of tomorrow?”
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
Logan walked onto his office the next morning, whistling a happy little tune. He’d had a small glass of wine the night before at Juliet’s place when he’d dropped in on his way home, knowing he had to break the news to her that evening about the cunning plan he’d come up with. He was happy for two reasons; firstly, visiting Jules and his niece Emily and not having to see William’s stupid damn face any longer would never get old, and secondly, his little scheme to get closer to that gorgeous woman was coming together. As Jules worked partly from home and partly at the office, he had to let her know that a new face would be around for at least the next three months. It would give him a much better chance to persuade her to go out with him - she wouldn’t really be able to escape him given that she’d be right next door to him every day. Predictably, Juliet had issued a stern warning about what would happen to certain parts of his anatomy should he overstep, but had reluctantly accepted that it was a fait accompli. (Privately, she was looking forward to working more closely with her and also warning her about the usual antics of her beloved brother, that’s if she wasn’t already well aware of them).
He’d been racking his brains for ideas on how best to pursue her ever since she’d turned him down flat at that conference. Logan wasn’t used to being turned down. He’d had a brainwave a couple of days later and had checked into who was handling the Delos projects at her company - after all, surely she wouldn’t be at the conference in the first place if she wasn’t involved somehow? He’d been overjoyed to find out that she was handling just about all of the current open projects (so why on earth had they allowed Boring Asshole to give the majority of the presentation?! he’d thought incredulously) and had then begun to put together a plan to somehow get her into his close orbit. He was really quite proud of what he’d come up with.
His secretary knocked on his doorframe and announced that his visitor had arrived. A big smile appeared on Logan’s face.
Here I go! he thought, the thrill of the chase coursing through his veins.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
The secretary smiled at you over her shoulder as she leaned against Logan’s office doorframe, “Please, go right in,” before stepping aside so you could enter.
The man himself was lounging back in his fancy office chair, which to you looked more like the type of padded seat you’d get on a private jet, waving you into the office before getting up and striding over to you. He held out his hand which you took but instead of shaking it as you expected, he pulled you towards him and kissed your cheek very softly. A waft of delicious and no doubt expensive cologne reached your nostrils before he stepped back, “Welcome on board!” he said, “...I’m so glad you’re joining us here at Delos Destinations.” You smiled, “Thank you, Mr Delos.” “Logan!” he said immediately, waving his hand and saying your first name. “Logan,” you said dutifully, “yes, thank you for the welcome ....of course I do still work for my own company.” He smiled at you, still holding onto your hand and beginning to lead you to the door, “Well, for now you do. I’ve a mind to steal you away for myself, you know. Or, sorry... for Delos Destinations, I should of course say.”
OK... seems like he’s still interested, even if that wouldn’t last longer than a heartbeat once you’d gone out (and especially if you slept) with him. You knew this secondment was going to be trouble, you thought. Three whole months of trying to resist Mr Player of the Decade. But you were convinced that you could do it.
As he lead you from his office to what was going to be yours, you were suddenly very aware of his tall figure beside you, your hand in his (he still hadn’t let go of it) and a hint of that beautiful cologne of his again. He looked across at you, dark eyes gazing into yours and gave you a mischievous grin. Annoyingly, your stomach did a little flip.
Yeah, really convinced.
»»————————————-———- ⚜ ———————————-————-««
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(Not my GIF - credit to owner)
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shyflameweasel · 3 years
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This is in the same universe as this. I honestly have no clue why I wrote this but here it is.
Once more, your impromptu roommates never cease to amaze you. Its still up in the air on whether or not that was a good thing however. So instead of anymore health questions (you think it stopped cause at one point someone hurled on the carpet) things had relatively settled into some form of mad normality.
Until the new neighbors got involved. They moved in maybe a week ago and seemed relatively normal at the time. It wasn’t that they were crazies or a bunch of murders, which was apparently your house instead, nope. It was that they seemed to think that they had the full reign to be in everyone’s business while letting their kids run amok. And that as neighbors they could bug you at all hours of the day for ‘neighborly favors’. You don’t mind helping someone out now and again. But you draw the line at someone complaining that your door wasn’t unlocked for them to waltz right in.
‘Oh I’m sooo sorry about that. Here let me give you my bank information, the keys to my house, my social security and my ID. Ya nooo.’
You refused to be pushed around like that. And it wasn’t much better when one of their spawn ‘At this point you couldn’t call them kids but calling them gremlins would be an insult to the gremlins’ for some reason were just...looking through your window cause that’s an entirely normal thing to do and saw one of your roommates. How do you know that? Because they told you after banging on your front door and trying to force themselves into your home demanding to quote unquote see the alien.
It was a bit of a hassle but you had managed to get out of the door to close it behind you so they wouldn’t try to get into the house. Leaving yourself and the two kids outside. The older of the two, a little girl of nine, stamped her foot. “We wanna see the alien!” she harrumph, glaring as well as small child could. Her little brother, six years old, nodded his head. 
“Ok, why do you think there’s an alien in my house?” “Cause we saw them in the kitchen.” “Well you’re wrong there- wait” you paused for a second realizing something. You’re kitchen couldn’t be seen from the front window so that would mean... “Why were you looking in my window? More importantly why were you in my backyard?” “Bored.” You take a deep, calming, breath in. It wouldn’t do anything if you got mad at the kids. It took a lot of convincing that no, there was no ‘alien’ and that they wouldn’t be taking them on any space adventures. Luckily they didn’t throw their normal fit and headed back home.
You thought that was the end of that...until a couple days later another neighbor, this one non-crazy, came up to you. Apparently the spawn you caught trying to break into your house had told their mom you had an ‘alien’ living with you. But she took that as a different kind of alien and started spreading that you had an illegal person living with you. You may not have been too sure if the dudes could legally be at your house since they were a completely different species but still! Thanking them you went back to your house, neither of the parents would be back for a couple hours so you had to wait.
You fell face first into your couch groaning. These people have been trouble from day one. “Hey, you okay there?” Reluctantly removing your head from the cushion, you saw Deimos standing in the hallway. You gave a half-hearted wave before face planting back into the couch with a grumble. Maybe you could put off the inevitable headache. Apparently he didn’t get the memo as a few moments later something poked your cheek. Repeatedly.
Tilting your head enough to uncover an eye, you glared at his toothy grin. “Ah come on. No need for that. Why not tell little old me what’s got ya panties in a twist?” You considered that for a moment. They had heard you complain about the neighbors before. (”If they’re so annoying why not kill them?” “Hank, no. That’s illegal.” “Not in Nevada.” “Well your Nevada was a free for all murder fest.”)
Grumbling, you momentarily drop your plans of suffocation by cushion and sit up. “It’s the neighbors again.” You think he raised his eyebrow, kinda hard to tell from his lack of eyes. “Again? What they asking ya to babysit their brats again or gettin huffy about ya not lettin them come over.” Groaning you drag your hand over your face, “No, the mom’s spreading rumors that I have illegals in my house.” “Illegals?” “People that got into the country without a passport and paperwork.”
Deimos seemed slightly confused at that “Huh. And that’s bad why?” You reconsider your suffocation plan “It’s bad because if someone believes what she says they could call the cops.” He snorts. “No I’m serious Deimos, I have no clue how they would react to you guys. If they don’t arrest you for not being...y’know” you gestured to all of him “Plus I’m pretty sure you guys are living here free.” “One rude and two we pay rent.” “Dude I’m pretty sure you’re all committing tax evasion.” You had absolutely no clue how they were even paying rent and a part of you didn’t want to know.
Shaking that thought and its implications away, you get back on some tract. “I’m gonna try talking to the mom when she gets home from work in a couple hours to try and fix this mess. Hopefully things will go my way.” You really hope you didn’t jinx yourself...
And you jinxed yourself. When you tried to talk to her she did her best to brush you off. And when you brought up how her kids shouldn’t be in a strangers backyard she had the gall to laugh at you. Not only had she not punished her kids for basically trespassing on your property, she congratulated them on finding out about your ‘alien’ friend. If this woman wasn’t crazy you’d eat your favorite hat. So after unsuccessfully trying to talk some sense into the woman she slammed the door in your face. Sighing, you decided that you’ll try to catch the husband before he leaves for work tomorrow and see if he could talk some sense into his wife.
You’re pretty sure this is where things seemingly went off the rails. Because after having just as much luck with the husband as you did his wife, you didn’t hear from them for about two weeks. When you did hear from them it was when you got home to see a moving truck in their freeway and a for sale sign in the front yard. Catching a glimpse of them the parents looked disheveled and twitchy. Trying to catch their attention had them flinching and scrambling back into the house when they saw that it was you.
You found that a bit weird but went inside anyway to be greeted by a smug atmosphere. Deimos was sitting on the couch with a laptop but turned to you with a sharp toothed smirk. You had a gut feeling that something had happened that you wouldn’t like. It was proven right. “So I saw that the neighbors are movin out. Pretty weird I gotta say.” “Deimos-” “Real shame, they seemed like such nice folks.” “Deimos.” “They were just getting settled in and everythin.” “Deimos!” That got him to quiet down but did nothing for his shit eating grin. “What. Did. You. Do.”
Apparently he and the others took offense to the possibility of law enforcement. (”Not like it would do much but it would be annoying to loose a cozy place like this.”) So they, not including 2BDamned who seemed to be the only one with some kind of sense, decided to go to war with the neighbors. Which included but not limited to: messing with their cars, hacking their computers, ominously standing somewhere they weren’t supposed to be, sharpening weapons, moving everything in the house slightly off by an inch. Three fully grown and fully trained men decided that one annoying family in the suburbs was a threat.
You stood there blinking unable to grasp exactly you just heard. So you did the next best thing. Go straight to your room and sleep because you sure as hell did not know how you ended up with these loons.
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markets · 3 years
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helloooo
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so this post of mine has been gaining some traction lately and due to popular demand (aka one comment telling me to write it), i actually wrote an essay about it. is it good? probably not lol, but its like 3 double spaced pages long and i actually really like it, so id appreciate it if you checked it out!
 it’ll be under the cut but first i just wanted to clarify some things: this is about their characters on the smp, not them as real people. so just pretend that theres a c! in front of every name i mention lol. also, im still about a month behind on the smp and havent watched every stream, so if anything is inaccurate/not up to date i apologize
              Two Sides of the Same Coin: A Tommy and Tubbo Analysis
      Over the years, many fictional characters have been deemed two sides of the same coin; two things that are closely related regardless of how different they may seem. Tommy and Tubbo fit that description to a tee. Their positive and negative qualities balance each other out perfectly, something that allows them to bring about meaningful change when they’re together but causes chaos to reign when they’re apart, a fact that Dream used to his advantage during the exile arc.
      One of the ways they balance each other out is in their leadership styles. Tommy leads with his heart and tends to let his emotions take control, while Tubbo has been known to lead with his head and make decisions based on logic rather than what he’s feeling at the time. An example of this was when he exiled Tommy to avoid violence and trouble for his country in the long run rather than letting his lifelong friendship with him cloud his judgement. By themselves, anyone who leads with their heart or head alone is bound to run into pitfalls, but being together allows the good qualities of these forms of leadership to shine through and the bad ones to cancel each other out: Tubbo acts as a voice of reason for Tommy and helps him think rationally, while Tommy helps Tubbo lead with more compassion to avoid becoming, in his own words, “the next Schlatt”.
In addition to this, some of their greatest flaws complement each other as well. Tommy is constantly regarded as being too stubborn, emotional, and angry, qualities that made Wilbur believe he would never be president and are the reason why Dream is scared of him. On the other hand, Tubbo is known to be a pushover, a “yes man” who, despite being able to stand his ground sometimes, typically gives in to others too easily. Just like Tommy, this quality made many believe he’d make a horrible president. However, the complementary nature of their friendship allows them to help one another and balance out each other's flaws: Tommy helps Tubbo stand his ground and make decisions for himself, while Tubbo helps Tommy avoid doing anything rash. A great example of this last statement is the aftermath of Tubbo’s execution, when Tommy was angry and started looking for the button to explode Manberg, despite his hesitancy to do so earlier, saying “Where’s the button? They fucked up for the last time”. However, Tubbo put a stop to this by telling him to go with him to Pogtopia.
      There are many more examples of how they balance each other out from the times when they have been together, but even more can be seen when they're apart. Their separation was the root cause of all the chaos that occurred during and directly after the exile arc. Without Tommy and his warnings against becoming “the next Schlatt”,  Quackity was able to take the helm in most major decisions and pressure Tubbo into violent political plans, despite one of the main reasons for exiling Tommy being to avoid violence. Tubbo only stood up to him when he realized one of his plans directly paralleled his execution under Schlatt’s rule. Meanwhile, without Tubbo there to support Tommy, he ended up teaming up with Technoblade, another thing Tubbo sought to avoid with the exile. Tommy’s habit of letting his emotions take over, not to mention his post-exile mental instability, and Technoblade’s penchant for violence and the destruction of L’Manberg proved to be a dangerous combination, since Technoblade not only failed to stop Tommy’s rash behavior but also encouraged it.
      It is highly likely that Dream was not only aware of these facts but also motivated by them. This can be seen many times throughout the exile arc, as well as right before it began. Not only was Tommy’s crime arguably worthy of no more than the originally proposed three week probation, if Dream really wanted to unfairly punish Tommy, there are many arguably worse punishments he could’ve chosen, such as execution, forcing Tommy to give him one of his precious discs (though it’s not likely that Tommy would’ve given in to that easily), or the destruction of L’Manberg. However, Dream likely knew that, by separating Tommy and Tubbo, they would do his work for him and destroy L’Manberg from the inside. After physically separating them by successfully getting Tubbo to exile Tommy, Dream took it upon himself to emotionally separate Tommy from his best friend as much as possible by talking about how much better things were in L’Manberg without him there, breaking his spirit, and feeding him lies, such as the lie about what happened to Tubbo’s compass or his sabotaged beach party.
      In addition, there is a small detail in Dream’s plan that is commonly overlooked: his mention of Technoblade's house. Without looking too much into it, it simply seems like an offhand comment made to perpetuate the idea that Dream was his friend. However, if Dream’s primary goal was to keep Tommy as isolated as possible from everyone else, it would make no sense for him to not only tell him how close by another person lived, but also give him directions to them, even if the person was one of the people Tommy hated the most. From this standpoint, it seems foolish, but it could actually be viewed as one of Dream’s smartest moves. From this, it can be inferred that Dream was not only aware of how destructive a Technoblade and Tommy teamup would be, but also encouraged it. For this same reason, he let Tommy stay in hiding with Technoblade, even after he told Ghostbur he knew he had been there. By doing this, Dream was able to twist Tommy’s volatility and aversion to the rules, the very qualities that made him the only person Dream feared, in his favor.
      For all his flaws, Dream is a smart man, and he was able to realize what many others failed to: Tommy and Tubbo’s bond was the heart and soul of L’Manberg, one of the only things keeping it running. Without them together balancing each other out, they became powerful forces of mostly unintentional chaos and destruction, collapsing the country they loved and playing right into Dream’s hands. They are two sides of the same coin: despite how different they may seem, they are closely related, necessary to each other's ability to flourish, grow, and survive, and cannot be separated.
TL;DR: DO!! NOT!! SEPARATE THEM!!!!!!!!
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thejostenator · 3 years
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The Foxhole Cinema: Chapter Fourteen
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Wymack turned his glare on Allison, who had settled back into her chair to watch the drama unfold.
“Get your ass up," he growled. "You can go cover Neil’s shift."
“There’s no way in hell that I’m missing this,” Allison replied with a lazy wave of her hand.
Wymack grunted and pointed to the door. “You're not in hell- you're in my Cinema, so you can do as I say."
Allison raised a thin eyebrow. "Your Cinema isn't hell? That's news to me."
Andrew snorted and Wymack whipped around to face him. "You're in no position to laugh right now- don't think I've forgotten you."
"I didn't think that at all, Coach," Andrew said, "I'm just enjoying the last minutes of my life before you end it."
Alison scoffed. "It'll take more than that to bring you down, monster. You're tough as fucking nails."
"You're right, Allison," Andrew said slowly, running a hand along his armbands. "So maybe you'll listen when I tell you that you're covering for Neil."
Allison huffed. "Not you too, monster. Just when I thought you were on my side."
"This isn't a negotiation," Wymack said, "Consider it payback for dumping everything on him yesterday."
Allison remained stubbornly in her seat, refusing to waver under Wymack’s icy gaze, although her eyes flickered to Andrew, watching his every move carefully. Neil recognised her behaviour in himself- she was distancing herself from a potential threat.
“I think it really would be best for you if you left now," Renee said sweetly, and that seemed to be the final straw for Allison, who rose with a sound Neil could only describe as an indignant squawk and stalked across the room, fixing Wymack with a death glare as she did. When she finally left, she slammed the door hard enough to shake the frame and rattle the walls.
“So,” Wymack said after a few seconds, “Now that’s taken care of, the phone call?”
Andrew shrugged. “How should I know what Bee said to you?”
Wymack raised a bushy eyebrow. “I’m sure you can make an educated guess, Minyard.”
Andrew shrugged. When Neil saw the look of palpable fury on Wymack's face, etched into the lines of his skin, pulling his eyebrows down and simmering like fire in his eyes, he took a tentative step back. He would make an effort with him for Abby’s sake, but that didn’t mean he needed to put himself between Andrew and Wymack like a human shield, not when the older man's every movement echoed Nathan’s own, not when Andrew was hopefully skilled enough with the knives in his armbands to use them if worst came to worst. Andrew didn't seem like someone who was all talk, and Neil had met a few people like them. Some of his Mother's contacts had pushed for a higher price than reasonable for fake IDs, but in the end, Mary always pushed harder.
“The Oasis, Andrew,” Wymack said when it was clear that was as much as Andrew was going to deign to respond. “I knew your self-preservation skills were limited at fucking best, but I didn’t realise you were enough of a fuckhead to break into somewhere there was a high chance the Moriyamas were involved.”
"They were involved," Andrew answered. "Moreau was there, as well as Riko."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better?" Wymack scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Hell, you've just made everything hundreds of times worse."
"It's better to see the threats than be left wondering if they're even there," Neil replied, another one of his mother's gems falling from his mouth before he could reign himself in.
“Neil,” Wymack turned to him as if seeing him for the first time in their conversation, “You look like shit.”
“I’ve been made aware,” Neil said drily.
“I don’t mean in the way Allison probably harped on about,” Wymack replied, “I mean as in it looks like you’ve been put through a ringer by all this. I would have thought you were smarter than letting Minyard drag you in there, especially when you had a pretty big reaction to the whole mafia thing.”
Andrew didn’t move to correct Wymack and tell him that Neil had been the one spurring them on, so Neil took his lead and didn’t either, shuffling awkwardly where he stood. Taking his silence as an answer- a lie by omission, Neil thought vaguely- Wymack turned to Renee.
“Renee,” he said, “I thought you of all people would have known better.”
Renee fixed him with an intense gaze. It fell short of being a glare, but it certainly wasn’t passive either. “I either went with them or let them go entirely without supervision. Surely you can understand the decision I made.”
Wymack paused, considering. “You’re excused,” he said finally, “but don’t think I’m leaving you with them again.”
Renee nodded. “I expected as much,” she said, “But don’t worry. We’ve already discussed this, and have come to the agreement nothing like this is going to happen again.”
“I should hope so,” Wymack said. “Now, do I need to place you on house arrest to make sure you’re not idiots again, or can I let you go and trust you’ll come back after the day’s over for our emergency meeting?”
“Don’t use pig terms, Coach,” Andrew said drily, “I might lose my respect for you.”
“That wasn’t an answer, Minyard,” Wymack sighed. “Don’t make me choose for you.”
“You don’t need to keep us under lock and key, but I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one day,” Neil said, stressing excitement in a way that he hoped made it clear it wasn’t quite literal. “I’m staying here. Should I take back over from Allison?”
Wymack snorted. “She needs to learn a lesson, so no. But if you’re hoping to relax here, you’re out of luck. Hemmick’s getting off in a minute, and there’s no way he won’t come to chat.”
“Joy,” Andrew said. “I’m sure I’ll be able to contain him.”
“I don’t think anyone can contain that little fucker,” Wymack said, almost fondly, and left the room.
Andrew paused, as if wondering whether he should leave Neil alone with Renee, before evidently deciding it was fine (which it wasn't) and followed Wymack from the Break Room.
“New clothes draw attention?” Renee asked softly once it was just the two of them, sitting down on the couch and patting the spot next to her in an invitation to sit next to her. Despite the action being basically the same thing Abby had done last night, it was infinitely less comforting now.
Neil sat on one of the chairs opposite the couch. Renee smiled simply and took the rejection in her stride because of course she did. Was Little Miss Perfect angered by anything? The only emotion Neil had seen her display other than the tranquillity he was starting to suspect was her neutral state was the quiet judgement and vague disapproval she had displayed in the Oasis, as well as masked concern for Moreau.
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Neil said, “Not now and not ever.”
“But you will have it with someone?” Renee asked.
“Someday,” Neil said stiffly.
“Then that’s enough for me,” Renee said, and she rose slowly, leaving the room. She paused in the doorway. "I'll see you later, Neil."
"See you then," Neil said, and Renee slipped away, closing the door gently behind her.
Barely a second later, Andrew returned with the battered copy of Watership Down from the Lost Property under his arm. Without so much as a glance in Neil's direction, he settled down on one of the chairs and flicked open to a dog-eared page.
“Wasn’t that in the lost property box?” Neil asked.
Andrew looked up at him, eyebrows drawn together in another Andrew expression Neil hadn't learnt to interpret yet. “Yes.”
Neil was about to press for more answers when Nicky burst through the door and threw himself down on the sofa.
"Neil!" He cried. "You're back!"
"I am," Neil nodded. "Hello, Nicky."
"You remember my name!" Nicky grinned.
"I'm new, not stupid," Neil said, but Nicky had already moved the conversation on, babbling about his day at a million miles an hour. Neil knew in that instant that he had no hope of unwinding at all before the end of the day, so he settled in for a long afternoon of being talked at.
15 notes · View notes
friggsdc · 3 years
Text
Title: little delinquent pt iii
part ii | part iii | part iv
Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort, Jason’s language
Word Count: 4700~
Synop: It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” he tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.
“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.
-
A/N:  tbh I cut the last chapter in two, this is the second half ee;;;; but I rewrote it to be it’s own chapter tho haha. Hum… this doesn’t pick up exactly where the last chapter ended, but it’s still all here. c’: Also, if you wear glasses, just know grumpy ol’ Bruce would probably force contacts on you in public (he’d see them as more ‘professional,’ and glasses as a danger/hazard in the field). Glasses are for home only sighs.
Ngl I see lexcorp similar to westworld’s delos, lotsa fancy designs ee;;;; Cadmus like nasa test rooms, clinical as heck with little to no windows, and wayne ent with Alien franchise’s archaic but advanced spaceship tech, or dracula’s castle with cubicles lmao
-
             “Hey, Jaybird…”
Normally he knew what to expect, normally he’d open the door braced for a tackle, so when the rush of wind never came, he was at a bit of a loss. There you were, dressed like Bruce for some irritating reason. A size-too-big of a jacket, zipped up over a uselessly thin black turtleneck, a pair of black gloves, pants covering everything, and a pair of black lace-less… boots… with red… soles…?, and a suspiciously familiar-looking kid in your arms…
There was a slight guilty look on your face as you gauged his reaction, he could tell, you were nervous.
Wait.
He eyed the kid something scary, his voice grounding out, “so, who do I have to murder?”
“You weren’t gone that long, you know.” Snorting, you pushed past him into the small safe house, frowning at the bareness of it all before situating Terrence on the floor mattress. “How you sleep on this thing is beyond me…” he just shrugged, “too used to it? Answer the question,” he pointed at the kid while closing the door, “who?”
Agitated.
“Terrence,” said child was looking around, but there was only so much that would grab his attention, as empty as the room was.
“His name is Terrence, and he’s no one else’s, he’s… mine.”
“You just said it hasn’t been that damned long—” his frustration was building; he wasn’t liking where this was going, not that you were aware which direction his head was headed at the moment, you’d just gotten here.
You shook your head, “don’t tell me you…” his anger settled into a dark scowl, but you refused to look at him, “you can’t seriously bring more kids into that fucking prison.” He was so conflicted, it was you, but you were still a Wayne. It scared him to think of more children stuck in that lonely mansion, becoming bitter like he had.
You remembered what Dick had said days earlier when he first saw the child,
“Jason—” you began, a slight warning to your tone.
He didn’t care,
“Don’t be like Bruce.”
His voice was so cold.
Terrence had crawled his way over to the legs of the table in the makeshift kitchen, eyes on a prize as he began trying to figure out how a chair worked.
“You know, that actually hurt.”
You didn’t hate your father like Jason projected, but you knew the way he spoke about him, the way he expressed his feelings, that he ‘hated’ him. It was a half-truth, you knew. Jason preferred not hurting you, next to Alfred, you were more tolerable than the other family members. 
Somedays Tim and Dick made that list. Somedays. 
But that didn’t mean he was actively trying to be kind, he wanted it to stab.
Petty. Resentful. Haunted.
He went to say more, but stopped, fists shaking slightly from anger.
You were staring him down, that same look of disappointment Bruce would give him when he made an obviously stupid decision, as if he were still a Robin in training. Like your father, you could read him like an open book when you tried, it made him feel vulnerable, guilty, small.
Fucking frustrated.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he was at a loss for words, “…shit.” He turned away from you, coming back to the moment as he tried to reign in his temper, “it’s just…”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.”
Instead of continuing to argue the point, too used to his outbursts (Alfred and your family primed you too well for dealing with the unstable emotions of others), you walked over and wrapped your arms around him, head resting on his clothed chest, “missed you, Jay.”
Almost hesitantly, his arms returned the hug, his head burying itself in your hair, “sorry…” he breathed out, almost too quiet. He was tense as you pulled back a bit, reaching up to grab his face in your gloved hands as you leaned up on your toes, pulling his head down to yours. You touched your forehead to his, making certain to be gentle, “Honestly, it’s okay Jay. I forgive you, okay?”
“Cold,” his hands cupped your (oddly chilled) gloved ones, eyes searching your face before he shifted, head nodding slightly, rubbing yours. A heavy sigh escaped him, an awkward smile forming, “so, how’s my cutest little sister been?”
Glad that he was trying to get past his guilt, you shook your head, “a roller coaster. Dad’s upset at me.”
He just snorted in amusement, relaxing a little as you continued, “And how was California? The Titans? I miss Kory…” you blinked at his flat expression, “what? You were at the Tower, right? With Kory and Roy, and the others?”
Wow you ruined the moment fast.
“Aaaand that’s where you stop being cute. I swear this family is full of creepers. I think Dick’s the only normal one,” you tilted your head as he kept his hands firmly on your shoulders. “Honestly, you and Tim are terrifying, your brother is a demon, and I don’t even want to describe Bruce.”
“Glad you didn’t include yourself in that, zomboy,” he groaned, “that’s hurtful,” then he pouted, finally getting a good look at you.
Terrence was old enough to stand on his two legs as he held onto the chair, but he kept stumbling as he moved uncertainly. His eyes were focused on his mission as he started trying to climb further up.
Something clicked in the back of Jason’s brain, sudden realization dawning, “what…” you sighed, his hand moving from your shoulder, “is this…?” You refused to meet his stare as his fingers hooked on the zipper of your jacket, “uhm…” you flushed as he pulled it down, a bright red bat in his face.
There was a sudden sparkle in his eyes.
“Huh, didn’t expect you to be that much of a fan.” You were burning from head to toe now, refusing to look at him at all, rubbing the back of your neck with a thick swallow. “That… that’s kind of the problem…”
“What, that you’re walking around with my colors?” His grin seemed disappointed, but turned a bit more concerned at the frown you leveled at him, “it… let me explain… I think I need help…”
“Definitely gonna need explanations. A lot of them.” The kid was one thing, this outfit was another. He made to sit down, and you followed, leaving Terrence to his own devices for the moment. 
It’s not like there was much trouble to get into, everything of worth or danger was out of his reach.
“…yeah.”
“…”
“…”
“What is it?”
“…Why’d you think I slept with someone? When you first saw Terrence in my arms?”
He leaned away from you, chin resting on his palm, propped up on the arm of the couch with his elbow, “I’m your brother, and he looks like… it’s… I’m supposed to get upset about that… just… answer…” he did his best to keep a straight face, but eventually he had to turn away, looking at the wall, ears burning.
“Hm…?” you leaned towards him and he didn’t have to look at you to know you had a less than innocent smile on right now.
“Creep.”
You just laughed as you leaned into his side, causing him to crack a small smile, still not looking at you.
-
[“So… How to start this…”]
[“The suit, first, Terry after.”]
[“Terry?”]
[“The kid. Just explaaaaain already, uuugh I have patrol in a few hours…”]
[A heavy sigh, “Okay, then... So, you know how Lex helps fund the Society’s shenanigans?”]
[“…oh.”]
[“Yeah.”]
-
When it came to most places, breaking and entering was always easier at night, but for the LexCorp building? Nighttime came with problems, it came with heightened security, rigorous control, and the easy ability to spot something that was out of place. There was also your youngest brother who had filled you in on his adventures with Jon once, not a single detail of the LexCorp building having been left out; he was a thorough kid.
It was far easier to infiltrate during the day, the number of staff on the security team, the cliques of scientists and researchers, and the average workers meandering about made it easy to blend. You had donned a pair of (older prototype) smart glasses, normal from the viewer’s perspective, an integrative matrix mapping AI system from the wearer’s. Well, it could do more, but this was what you needed, the constant reconstruction of old building plans for more accuracy as you walked around.
Tim’d made some amazing things over the years, such as his matrix encryption to keep your work phone quiet, scrambling any noticeable connections that could be traceable. But this one was probably the coolest in your opinion, and he had yet to see the return of said glasses since you wouldn’t give them up, and he could never find where you’d put them. The glasses were a useful subtle change from the norm, a quick disguise, the security barely giving you a glance-over as you entered the passcode for the ID tag you wore, walking into the building.
With a slight wave from you, and a “Good Afternoon!” from them, getting in the backdoor was always the easy part. There were two more women next to you chatting in excitement and you made to stick close to them, parting only when you came upon the women’s locker rooms. The badge number Tim’d tracked down for you was useful until it wasn’t, Lex’s problem was needing levels three and above extensive background checks on anyone hired, and Tim knew exactly where to look.
-
[“Like I said, terrifying.”]
[“You do the same thing.”]
[“That’s a bit above my paygrade, usually I ask Tim for help when I need information from behind top-of-the-line security walls.”]
[“Oh.”]
[“Yeah.”]
-
Next was invasion of personal privacy and property, and a lot of it. You’d have felt worse if it weren’t for having been raised this way, “you’ll find out that people are just that, some sick and twisted, some happy and kind-hearted, but in the end, we’re all the same. Eventually, nothing will surprise you,” your father would say.
It didn’t take long, going through a few lockers and purses, letting your glasses do most of the work. They were able to see in a three-dimensional matrix, constantly being constructed behind most any material or metal. There were plenty of lab coats in varying sizes to choose from, and you spotted one badge and wondered who the dumdum was. You had plenty of electromagnetic strips for your ID if you needed a switch, but it seemed unnecessary. Some people left their everything when they clocked out, too.
You’d secured your purse around your stomach and under your shirt, the bulge flattened at your side, tying the ends in place. It would uncomfortably dig into you, but you couldn’t leave it behind and it would only be for a short time.
No one had paid you any mind, too busy rushing to get in and out of the locker rooms, and you made to escape with a group of women in the same coats as yourself. The group and yourself came to an elevator, and you let them do all the work. One of them scanning their ID for the group, the rest blurting out the number of the floor they needed to get to, and yourself joining in. A strange calm settling as you got more into the coworker attitude.
Seventh level Research and Development wing.
-
[“Not his office?”]
[“Why?”]
[“I dunno, there’s probably some terrible top-secret info in there.”]
[“I mean, I was on the main R&D floor, how much more top secret can you get?”]
[“Touché.”]
-
The entire R&D area was made up of floor to ceiling glass window dividers, a white and chromatic color scheme, and a lot of tightly sealed doors. You honestly didn’t even need the glasses to find the head researcher’s office, it was written in huge bold letters next to the dumb door on a plaque.
Weaving through a few people with their eyes busy reading clipboards and cellphones, you eyed each inch of the floor, and wondered if the other stock standard R&D floors at LexCorp were similar. No one paid you any mind as you stood in front of the group of office doors, all packed neatly in a little corner, and each leading to a different R&D office. They were mostly empty, only one occupied, most of the techbros and techgals were out and about doing work.
Again, the glasses did the decoding work for you, getting you the set of numbers you needed to enter the room. Unlike the rest of the lab, this office had less windows, though the few it did have were still large. Though they faced out rather than in, and it also wasn’t as large and as roomy as you’d have imagined. The Wayne R&D offices being waaay bigger in comparison.
Taking out two small flash drives, you shoved the sticks into the lone computer on the desk, booted it up, and just let them do their thing. Having the computer start with the flash drive, it acted as an executable program, letting it bypass any needed passcodes or security clearance for now.
One for unlocking the system, the other for information storage.
No doubt someone will notice that.
You wondered briefly if this was how the Cyborg felt, only ever having gotten to see him briefly before he utterly devastated an entire operating system. He then rebuilt it to his preferences, all in the matter of seconds. Tim had always lamented not getting to watch when you described it.
Notably, it was quite lovely how LexCorp’s researchers had everything organized in a folder subsystem so well. You were able to track down the needed information in less than a few minutes through the root directory.
Gotta be faster.
However, as you stared at the processing bar on your information download, there wasn’t a whole lot to do. Clicking the monitor’s sleep button to dim any light, you stood up and strode over to the door.
Being the lookout for a computer program was a new one.
-
[“Pfff.”]
[He snickered behind his palm as you smacked him on the shoulder.]
[“At least you got in without needing to hack anything yourself. Get dunked on, Dick, Damian.”]
[Light laughter echoed.]
-
Nothing had happened by the time the computer let out a small ding, indicating the download had finished. With both flash drives now pocketed, you turned to the next problem: getting out.
It really shouldn’t have been that hard, it was so stupidly easy to get in, thank you new temporary coworkers, but as you eyed the group of security detail by the elevator, you made a hard turn to the side.
Had you gone through the front doors instead of the employee entrance, you would have seen a ton of security. Through the back however, they really were only at certain check points, it’s not like just anyone could get in. So of course, there was no way they would have been able to get so far as the head office of any department.
How long had you been gone from the others? How long did you still have on Tim’s encryptions?
Oh heck.
The options were now trying to squeeze by the security, which was doubtful, they were checking everyone, or figure out a way to base jump without any gear. Neither option sounded appealing, you had no wings or grappling hooks with you, and it was still midday.
The corridor you turned into went from full on glass to a partition supporting windows, half and half, split horizontally to allow for more privacy, probably.
This was also exactly where you didn’t want to be.
Frick.
Most of the rooms looked like chemistry labs, charts everywhere, huge gravity convection and forced-air ovens, and thermo-freezers that looked like they belonged in meat markets. It was almost overwhelming at how cool some of these things looked as you searched for an exit. So filled with anxiety and adrenaline as you were, you almost missed it out of the corner of your eye. It was the red shimmering of a glass bowl on your face that made you notice it, the barely-there stream of sun that caught it just right.
You wasted no time getting to work, the door just as easy as the others, passcodes, they were all passcodes. Where were the fingerprint and retina scanners? Hell, where was the facial recognition scanners? You’d come prepared for so much, so you were incredibly confused at the lax security features. But again, this wasn’t the ground floor and security clearance was stricter this far in, your badge did most of the infiltration for you.
Was your dad that paranoid that now, so were you?
-
[“The civi world is full of sub-par idiots.”]
[“You sound like Dami.]
[“Gross.”]
[“…it’s uncanny, really, he said the same thing.”]
[“Shit.”]
-
The room looked similar to the others, less windows, more wall, plenty of graphs and charts, but there were a few different things as well. A few of which you pocketed; the only expensive looking laptop was also grabbed straight off a table to the side of your quarry.
The most notable thing however was glaring you boldly in the face, all black and a giant red bat on the chest.
A batsuit.
-
[“Yeah, I’m gonna want to know why baldy even had this thing.”]
[“Tim’s going through the drives right now, Dami dropped them off…”]
[“Damn.”]
-
Why did Lex have a batsuit? Where did he get it from, or did he help develop it? Terrence was part of all this, and what about your fa… the Batman? Why was Cadmus part of all this? Why was Lex? Were there more suits? More clo— children?
Shit shit shitshitshitshi—
To say you were freaking out a bit was an understatement.
Hearing heavy footsteps, you panicked and grabbed the garment from behind it’s glass case and took a dive behind the nearest desk. They hadn’t come in yet, they hadn’t gotten to this room, there was still time, but… still time to what?
You eyed the suit in your hands, it’s size horribly different from your own body type (but you could probably still fit it) and you decided to make a really dumb decision then and there.
You were gonna get caught regardless, might as well suit up and try to fight your way out. If you were lucky, you could get out of this without ruining your father’s reputation (or Batman’s identity.)
You began stripping behind the desk, fully intent on donning the batsuit. If nothing else, these things usually came with masks, even though you hadn’t seen a single one near it.
The moment you pulled the fabric over your legs, heels sliding effortlessly into the red soles, you watched almost in amazement as the fabric melted to your skin, reshaping to fit you. There was going to be a lot of bagginess in the suit when you wore it, a lot of tightness in weird places, too, and it had looked fitted to a larger male. So you hadn’t expected the suit to fit perfectly on purpose. It even had a built-in utility belt. Suddenly you were a bit giddy.
Again, what the hell was Lex Luthor doing?
“So freaking cool.”
The material felt almost like a second skin, there was also no sensory loss from wearing it, you could feel the floor as if you were barehanded.
You’d never thought about it before, but now you couldn’t take your mind off Dick and his skintight suit. You felt almost nude in this suit, not used to something showing everything off like it was.
Did Dick enjoy this?
Your ears burned brightly as you finished suiting up, no longer able to think about a large portion of superheroes and villains.
How could you ever face some of them again?
How could you ever look Dick in the eyes again?
“Oh no…”
Perverts. All of them.
-
[Loud laughter.]
[A very red face.]
-
You had to admit though, it was so much cooler than your heavier and bulkier recon gear. It didn’t weigh you down and the sensory adaptation was something you’d never come across before. Speaking of, reaching up, you took the glasses off to get a clear view of your surroundings and immediately regretted it.
The suit seemed to come to life on it’s own as something came out of nowhere, engulfing your head in complete darkness.
A silent scream, too terrified to let out any sound.
You about died then and there.
The suit wasn’t that cool anymore.
Without missing a beat and calming your fears of being bagged or worse, the darkness faded, and you could see your surroundings. Blinking for a moment to adjust, you tried to get your bearings on what the hell just happened, your hand gingerly coming up to feel your face.
[Booting...]
Were you hearing things or did the suit just...?
Unfortunately, that was the exact moment the door to the room you were in opened, and you panicked. It was a dead-end room, you weren’t as good at fighting as your brothers, and the security here could be scary when hunting down an intruder.
Stupid Lex.
Without thinking, you grabbed your things now bundled up in the labcoat like a bag, slung it over your shoulder, and bolted towards one of the windows looking out.
You were so used to recon jobs that you hadn’t taken into consideration that you had none of your gear (but your brothers did this kind of stupid thing constantly, so you’d be okay, right?).
You were too caught up in the moment.
You hadn’t heard the sound, mind too blank, but the glass falling around you was enough indication of just what you had done.
Base jumping it was.
You were in a batsuit, after all. 
Falling seven stories was terrifying, but definitely brought you back to reality. Securing the makeshift bag on your back, tied around your neck, you began thinking as fast as you could. Claws? The suit had them, you had noticed, but you were too far from the building, having jumped a distance, then... The suit had a built-in utility belt, right? Maybe there was something useful in one of the —
[Servo-Motors engage…]
[Checking system function…]
[Loading protocol…]
…huh?
[84 feet till impact.]
…wait—
[75 feet till impact.]
“Yeah I see that.”
[71 feet till impact.]
“Thanks.” Sarcasm, “What else can you tell me other than my unfortunate demise at the hands of gravity?”
[Thrusters not online.]
[68 feet till impact.]
[Grappling gun unavailable.]
[Batarang lines unavailable.]
[67 feet till impact.]
[Retractable wings availa—]
“Yes, that one, wings, please! Wait… thrusters?” you had little time as your whole body suddenly started tumbling, a set of red wings expanding between your arms and the sides of your torso. “Shitshitsh—” and then you were gliding, your arms having spread on their own from the force of the fall. “Oh… Oh my…”
The suit was cool again, “Dang this is… nice… Like a bird or… him.” You reeeaaallllly didn’t want to chance him hearing you say his name.
You wanted to try this higher up now, in a sea of clouds… It was like floating, an almost weightless feeling taking over. The wind currents were a bit to get used to, but it wasn’t terrible, having imagined it would be worse higher up, in them dang fluffy clouds... sigh.
[23 feet till landing.]
The suit helped guide you to an area with less people, something akin to your own Gotham alleyways (to a point, Metropolis’ worst streets were like Gotham’s safest ones). The small alley that led to several businesses’ back doors was rather clean, and there weren’t many places to hide. The best you could do was a growing shadow next to an empty dumpster.
“Alright then…” you sighed aloud, hands doing their best to find any seam in the suit, and after a few minutes, your—
[Heart rate at 142bpm.]
[Heart rate rising.]
[Blood pressure at—]
“—No kidding,” you thought, mind racing, and unfortunately, there wasn’t a single seam on the suit.
Anxiety was building in your chest,
“Frick.”
-
[“Wait, the suit talks?”]
[“I think it has an OS on it? I haven’t tried the cowl since…”]
[“You should.”]
[“…Nnnn”]
-
“Why do you look like Nightwing?” All you did was take the clothes from Damian and began to dress yourself over the suit, not certain at all on what you could say to this situation. You’d called Damian the moment you lucked out and made the cowl… come off?, and in his eagerness to leave Jon behind, he showed up quickly.
“You will tell me,” he was sounding just like dad.
“Dami, I uhm…”
“…I won’t tell father.” he could deduce a few things this pertained to, including but not limited to the child you had brought home, and how you avoided Bruce.
You could only sigh and nod at him, resigned. You really hope this didn’t come back to bite you in the bottom.
“What are you two doing?”
The clothes you had couldn’t cover most of the suit, the clothes Damian had brought you were able to do just that. Strangely, you weren’t feeling overheated, even though you looked like you were ready for cold weather.
“Ah, Jon.”
“You look silly.”
“…thanks.”
[“…”]
[”...”]
-
“Nightwing? Screw that brat.”
“Please don’t speak like that…” you sighed, your head in your hands.
He just huffed in annoyance, “I wear the colors better,” he muttered, “it sounds like a lot, what's your next plan of action?”
You let yourself slump forwards as he pulled you into a side-hug, arm slung over your shoulders, “it’s this suit. I can’t get it off, and—"
BAM
You and Jason about had twin heart attacks.
Without missing another fraction of a second, the larger male was on his feet, flipping over the back of the couch ready to attack before he swore at the sight in front of him. Striding over to the table in two long steps, “What the hell, Terry.” He haphazardly picked the kid up, a red helmet falling on the table with a clang, and turned to you, “your kid just tried to kill us, you realize.”
Having slid to the ground out of need to instantly roll to the side, you stopped, staring at the smoking gun that’d been pushed off the table, lying on the floor near you. Your eyes then shifting to the hole in the safehouse’s wall, “Uhm… The safety…”
He just snorted, “I don’t always have it on.” He wasn’t great at taking care of himself, sadly. You did your best with your busy schedule and budgeted time constraints, but when he wasn’t here, he easily fell into old habits.
“Please don’t let the demon spawn near him.”
“Please keep the damned safety on your guns.”
-
Batman was straining so hard that it looked like he was in the middle of a fight, an obvious aura of unrest around him.
“Whoa, you gonna punch yourself in the face? Wait, wait a minute, I gotta…” Batman groaned, irritated as a red blur came into the room, jabbered on too quickly, then took his phone out and pointed it at the big bat.
“Okay, I’m recording now, do it!”
It took a moment as Batman thought, rubbing his temples.
“I trained my kids too well,” at that, Flash put his phone down, tilting his head in confusion, “and that’s… bad?” He looked up at the League’s computers in front of him, noting the blinking [[ALERT ALERT ALERT]] off to the side.
“Because,” Batman reasoned, “I have to deal with them,” he ground out, glaring at the sign of intrusion.
“Ooooh, your kids hacked into the system again, huh?” Flash let out a low whistle, clearly amused by Batman’s misfortunes. Batman did his best to ignore the red nerd, calling on Cyborg to assist him, even though he had already been on his way, noticing it moments prior.
“Family, amirite?”
Batman said nothing in response,
Tim almost got away with it.
Almost.
61 notes · View notes
pastafossa · 3 years
Note
Hello dear pasta. I’ve come to scream about jane and matt, because why not??
Jane almost dying after swallowing a random memory from foggy? Iconic. I hope the memory was something good though. Maybe something silly like him trying to ride a bike as a four year old and failing miserably, or the first time he ate sushi, put too much wasabi on it and had to drink copious amounts of liquid to soothe the burning!!
But, i feel very bad for matt too. This man can’t catch a break with people he’s on the brink of losing, can he? So i get his overprotectiveness tbh, but oh man do i love jane and her backstory. If you sold this as a standalone book id definitely buy it, like ive never heard about such an eloborate backstory in a fanfic??? God bless that you walk along us mere mortals on this earth pasta!!
(Jane is not only spitting rocks, she’s spitting bars too with those arguments with matt. <- yes i laughed when i thought of this lmao. I feel like such a dad)
(Also i think tumblr has been eating my asks *raises fist* tumblr gods, rest assured my vengeance shall be coming upon you soon!)
- @buckysbiota
HELLO AGAIN MY FRIEND!
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I do feel after this, at least for a little while, Jane can reign as queen of the, 'Weirdest Way I Almost Died' club, because yeah, choking on Foggy's memory and almost dying because of it? They'll have to work to beat the strange factor. I can also confirm it was a good memory, cause if you're gonna choke to death on one, may as well be a pleasant one, even if it doesn't feel that way when it's stuck in your esophagus. 😂
Matt really does have sorta shitty luck here, yeah. He's got a history of losing people and these people he loves just keep winding up in danger, or almost dying in ways he doesn't quite expect them to. It naturally ends up putting him a bit on edge, like you said, especially with something like this with Jane where it is such an unknown, and something he can't really fight against. There is no going into the thread to haul her ass out of the water, there's no shoving his hand down her throat there to pull that stupid rock out, so he's just kind of... stuck waiting to see if she makes it out of whatever she's fighting. Poor guy.
And thank you SO SO MUCH! 😭 I tried to make all the backstory and plotlines just as elaborate and detailed as I might a book series, so I could practice what I'd learned about connecting plotlines, laying out clues, and building it all up slowly. I really do want to get published one day, so ya'll are getting every trick and lesson I've ever picked up over the years, and I am endlessly grateful for the response TRT's gotten! 🥰
(sweet jesus, I spat water, the Dad jokes are here! 😂😂😂)
(IT DOES EAT ASKS, I LIVE IN ETERNAL FEAR I'VE MISSED SOME??? Did I miss it? Is it buried in the backlog of asks I haven't gotten to yet? Did it get eaten? HELLSITEEEEEE.)
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favefandomimagines · 4 years
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Soul Surfer 11
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AN: last chapter of soul surfer! this is the ‘epic’ finale and i hope you all like it! just wanna say a quick thank you to those who have been so invested in this story! it means so much that people actually like this! an epilogue is coming and then those little blurbs with violet and jj!
Again: rafe is not canon in this story!!!
Violet had driven her and JJ back to her house, after spending the night on the beach. Neither wanted to go home and Violet didn’t want hear the questions from all of her friends.
She knew sooner or later she was going to have to talk to her father about what she found out but she was ultimately trying to avoid that conversation.
The two teens stepped into the house and saw Nick and Violet’s father seated at the kitchen counter.
“Violet Elliot you scared the hell out of me! Where have you been?” Her dad lectured as he pulled her in to a bone crushing hug.
“I was uh, playing Nancy Drew.” She joked. Rob looked from his daughter then to JJ, hoping for some sort of explanation. “We found out that Vivienne was using Ward Cameron to get her parental rights back. All while committing fraud.” Violet explained. “What are you talking about?” Rob asked. 
Violet ran a hand through her hair as she sighed. “Mom told Ward that she was the heiress of an oil family, had loads of money and was going to make Ward a shareholder or something. So then he’d use his fancy lawyer and all his money to get her parental rights back.” She explained. 
“That explains a lot. She asked me to get her a fake ID once but I said no.” Nick interjected. “See? She’s literally a psycho, dad. Can we call the police?” Violet asked. “Vi, this is serious. Odds are Ward Cameron called the police the second you told him your mother stole money from him.” Rob said. 
The four were interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door. All heads turned towards the front door, everyone completely silent. “Violet, honey, I know you’re home.” Vivienne’s voice rang from the other side. 
Eyes fell on Violet as she clenched her jaw. “Violet, don’t.” Nick said. She marched towards the front door and opened it and if looks could kill Vivienne would be six feet under. 
“You have some nerve showing up here. After trying to take me away from my dad and make me break up with my boyfriend.” She snapped. “Violet, let me explain.” Vivienne said. “No. You don’t need to explain anything, Vivienne. I know the truth. You have been and always will be a terrible mother and you are going to jail.” Violet said. 
“You have no proof. You just overheard a boy who has a crush on you.” Vivienne rebutted. “I’m sure Ward has proof. And Rafe wants my forgiveness so I’m sure I can get some.” Violet countered. 
Rob walked closer to JJ and placed a hand on his shoulder. “How about you go back to your friends? Just in case this gets messy.” He said quietly. “But I-“ JJ started, not wanting to leave Violet.
“She’ll be okay, don’t worry.” Rob interrupted. JJ was hesitant at first but then nodded his head and slipped out the back door of the house.
It had been over a week since anyone had last spoken to Violet. Her and JJ’s last in person interaction had been the one at her house and no ones heard from her since. Except her and JJ frequently texted one another.
Of course there were rumors. Some say the FBI came to the house and arrested Vivienne on site. Others say Violet and her father packed up and moved again to get away from Vivienne.
But JJ didn’t believe that. He knew the truth. He was the only one who knew what was actually going on.
The Elliot’s finally went to court. The judge heard about Vivienne’s illegal attempt to get her daughter back and pushed up the court date.
Turns out Vivienne hadn’t been paying child support so she got felony charges as well as committing credit card fraud and tax fraud. Point was, she was going to the state prison for a very long time. And Rob got full and official custody of Violet.
But once that was over, Violet was free to return to her normal life with her friends.
JJ had the idea to throw a party at the Boneyard to celebrate the end of Vivienne’s reign of terror. No one knew why he had the sudden urge to party when his girlfriend was AWOL but John B thought it would help him feel better.
“I still don’t understand why we’re having a party when Violet’s basically missing.” Kiara commented as she helped carry kegs to the beach. “She’s not missing, trust me. I know where she is.” JJ replied.
“You’ve known where she’s been this entire time and you haven’t told us?” Pope questioned. “She told me not to until everything was sorted out.” JJ answered. “So that means everything is sorted out then?” Kiara asked. “Yeah. Hence the party. Don’t know if she’s going to be here but we’re going to celebrate for her.” JJ explained.
Though he knew Violet was going to be there but it was a surprise to everyone else. Mainly the Pogues.
Violet was back at home, getting herself ready for the party at the beach. “Well this is eerily familiar.” Ron commented, leaning against his daughter’s doorway.
“Except the devil incarnate isn’t here to ruin it.” Violet said. “You don’t have to worry about her anymore. So please try to live your life.” Rob told her. “I plan on it. We can go back to Sunday morning surf sessions, making banana pancakes on Saturday’s. All of our traditions. Especially now that Nick’s here.” Violet said.
Rob smiled at his daughter before placing a kiss on her forehead. “I’m proud of you, Vi. You haven’t had it easy and yet you still have that shocking amount of optimism.” He said. “I get it from you.” She said.
“Now go have fun, kiddo.” He told her. Violet smiled up at her father before exiting her bedroom and walking out of the house.
The party at the Boneyard was in full swing. People JJ didn’t even know were there but all he cared about was searching for Violet. “Who could you possibly be looking for?” John B asked his best friend. 
“Uh, just making sure Rafe and those Kooks don’t show up.” JJ lied. John B bought it in enough time to turn around when JJ spotted Violet. Though they were at a party, he wanted her all to himself. 
He slipped away from the group and made his way towards the brunette girl. The second he reached her, JJ wrapped his arms tightly around his girlfriend. Afraid that if he let she’d slip through his fingers again. 
“I missed you so much.” He said quietly. “I missed you too. Two weeks on the mainland was two weeks too long.” Violet said. “I love you, you know that?” JJ asked. “Yes. And I love you too.” She replied. 
Before she could mention the party, his lips were on hers in an instant. They both were touch starved and physical tough was definitely Violet’s love language and not being able to do that for so long, made her feel terrible. 
“Violet? Is that you?” Pope’s voice interrupted the two. “Remind me to kill Pope.” JJ said. Violet laughed at her blonde boyfriend before she was basically tackled by her friends. “Where the hell have you been? Do you know miserable Sarah and I were without you?” Kiara asked. 
“It’s a long story and I’ll explain later but now, we’re at a party so let’s just have fun.” Violet answered. 
And did her friends deliver. It had been a while since they were just able to have fun together without any drama getting in the way. 
Violet was having the best time and she didn’t think anything could ruin it. That was until she spotted Rafe walking on to the scene.
She still hadn’t had the courage to speak to him. And she didn’t even do anything wrong, it was all his doing. Yet there was no attempt from him to make things right between the two of them.
JJ followed his girlfriend’s gaze and spotted the Kook he hated across the beach. “I’ll be right back.” He announced. “JJ,” Violet started. “I’m just gonna talk to him. No fighting, I promise.” JJ said.
The girl gave him a skeptical look but let him go anyways.
“What are you doing here, Cameron?” JJ asked. “I wanted to apologize. I’ve been a dick and I’m not proud of my behavior. I’ve been clean for a while. I realized the coke made me act all crazy. That and wanting to please my dad. So I’m sorry.” Rafe answered.
“I don’t think I’m the one you need to apologize too. Violet defended you. A lot. Even when your own sister didn’t. And you screwed her over. If anyone deserves this apology, it’s her.” JJ replied. “She won’t talk to me.” Rafe rebutted. “I can’t believe I’m saying this but I will go get her for you. Just, don’t screw anything up.” The Pogue said.
Rafe gave him a grateful look before he went to go get Violet.
“Vi, come with me.” JJ instructed her. “Where are we going?” She asked. “Someone needs to talk to you.” He answered. “No, JJ, I don’t want to talk to him. He’s an ass.” Violet countered. “He’s trying to say he’s sorry for being an ass. I can’t believe I’m trying to convince someone that Rafe Cameron isn’t a dick.” JJ told her.
Violet looked from her boyfriend to Rafe before groaning. “Fine.” She said. “Five minutes. That’s all you get, Cameron.” JJ added before walking away.
“What did you want to say?” Violet asked. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wanted my dad’s approval so much that I didn’t think about how much it would hurt you. If I’m being honest, I liked you. I liked you a lot and I saw my chance to get you and I took it. I was selfish thinking that money was more important than that. I’ve been clean since that night. And I know I don’t deserve to even be your friend but if you’d let me, I’d like to try.” Rafe explained.
Violet was quiet for a moment, feeling a sense of deja vu as Rafe stood in front of her.
“How many times have we been here, Rafe? I’d say this is your third attempt at an apology. And you hurt me and the people I love the first two times. How can I trust you’re not going to do it again?” She questioned.
“This time, I promise you, I won’t mess it up. Not again.” He said. Again, she went quiet. “Okay. I forgive you, Rafe. Please don’t make me regret it.” Violet finally said.
Violet could see Rafe’s shoulder fall in relief at her words.
“Okay, your five minutes is up. Violet, let’s go.” JJ interrupted. “Can Rafe join us? He also needs to apologize to everyone else.” She asked her boyfriend.
JJ was hesitant for a moment. But if Rafe didn’t even try to pick a fight with him, why shouldn’t he give him a chance?
He nodded his head before turning to Rafe. “You try to take her from me and I will kill you.” He threatened. “I just want to be friends. That’s it.” Rafe said.
The Pogues were skeptical at first. Forgiving Rafe and being ‘friends’ with him didn’t seem like something they could do. Sarah was on board with it. She had noticed a change in her older brother after what went down with him and Violet. Violet was making him a better person and for that Sarah was grateful.
It was going to take multiple trial runs for Rafe to be redeemed in the rest of their eyes. But they figured an apology was a good start.
The party was well over and JJ and Violet were laying on her balcony, staring up at the stars.
Violet was pointing out the different constellations she knew, thinking that JJ was actually listening to her. But he was caught up in his own world as he looked at her.
“What are you staring at?” Violet laughed. “You. How beautiful you are and I don’t know how the hell you agreed to be with me.” He answered.
“Do you wanna know why?” She asked. JJ furrowed his eyebrows but nodded. He wasn’t expecting her to actually tell him. “Because you feel like home. I feel safe and content when I’m with you. Like nothing bad can happen to me when I’m with you.” Violet said.
JJ couldn’t really find the words to reply to her so he leaned forward and kissed her gently. They had a lot of time to make up for but were stopped by the sound of Violet’s dad’s voice.
“Dad entering the room, please stop whatever you’re doing.” Rob announced. JJ closed his eyes momentarily, at the second time him and Violet were interrupted.
“What’s up dad?” Violet asked, sitting up. “I’ve been doing some thinking. Since JJ spends almost every night here anyways, I redid the guest room for him.” Rob started.
Violet and JJ exchanged a look, neither aware to the fact Rob knew JJ had been sneaking into Violet’s room.
“I don’t know why you can’t stay at home or why you sneak in at ungodly hours and you don’t have to tell me but now, JJ, you’ll always have a place here. And you can stop sleeping in my daughter’s room.” He finished.
“Now no funny business. I’m too young to be a grandfather.” He joked before leaving the room.
The couple looked at each before Violet let out a small chuckle. “Looks like you don’t need to stay at John B’s anymore.” She said. “I can’t believe your dad actually offered me the guest room.” JJ said.
“He has a feeling something is going on at home but he doesn’t want to push or pry. You’ll tell him when you feel like you need to. He just wants you to have a safe place.” Violet said.
“Your dad likes me that much?” JJ laughed. “Yes, believe it or not he does.” The girl next to him replied. “Well thank god I treat his daughter so well.” JJ teased.
JJ felt at ease in that moment. Understanding what Violet said about feeling safe with the other person. Feeling as if nothing can touch him as long as he was with her. He was at peace with himself.
Being with her as she quickly pointed out more stars and constellations and telling what planet was where. It was a perfect moment for him.
A perfect moment for the boy who hasn’t had an ounce of peace in years.
Tag list: @hockeyschmockey​ @allie-mcginn​​ @sexualparkour @k-k0129 @iamaunicorn4704 @milamaybank @jj-maybabe @diverrdown @sweetwatermelonsugar @alexa-playafricabytoto @aaleksmorozova @fandom-phaser @princessmugglecup @infinityspaceuniverse @teamnick​ @srirachabi @starxdame @holadrxrry @belledutchess @floridabornandraised @x-lulu​ @hopelesswritingxd @prettyboyspence @junkiemuppettxx @shawnssongs @jeyramarie @miliefayy @rudths @y0ungandfuckingdumb @xealia @hotel-colson @bubblesam06 @outrbank @thebendslikebendover @wasted-on-5sos @booksandshish @drizzlethatfalls @runway-to-my-aid @never-ever-too-many-fandoms @xlittlemissydjx @strawberryblondies @simonsbluee @httpstarkey @kylable @kaitieskidmore1​ @perkeusjackson​ @jjmaybankwildtimes​ 
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shinobirain24 · 3 years
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Iceberg Week 2021: Day 2 (July7)- Romeo and Juliet AU Pt. 1
Note: This fanfic is actually going to be a modern version of Romeo and Juliet. Where Weiss is the mafia's daughter and Neptune is the son of a police captain. I know it wasn't the best, but I would like to release it to share with you fellow viewers. Sorry for the late submission. I thought I should cut it into two parts
By wolfstyle2074
"Two Households, both alike and in dignity. When the differences have settled in cold blood. Love cannot be killed. The story of two young lovers seek out a way to escape with their lives when first sight came to light. Between law and crime, it was always conflict, questions of the choices we make in the war of blood..."
"Uh, Ren. Can we repeated that please? The background is getting sizzled?" Nora, a ginger-haired girl holding the camera, then interrupted as Ren, a raven-haired boy is speaking with a microphone in his hands. He is a reporter for a boarding school writing a story about two runaways fighting for their lives. "Um, Nora, are you okay?"
He asked. Seeing Nora wiping the tears off his eyes. Hearing the story kinda got her emotional. "Yeah, I just wished they'd be here to appreciate how you write this story."
"Don't worry, Nora. Neither of them will be forgotten. I am sure they will appreciate what you did to remember them." Ren said. Walking towards Nora and patted her on the head to cheer her up. "Wanna get some ice cream on the way out? I am sure it will make you feels better." Ren asked. Nora then rose her head up from the camera and smiled and nodded to the suggestion. "Yeah, I am sure it's fine. This is our last year in the Academy, sooner or later we will graduate." Nora said.
"You have read my mind, Nora." Ren said walking out together with Nora out of the school building. "Two years, and it was the story that made headlines that involves forbidden love between law and crime."
"Something tells me you will make a great novelist." Nora encouraged. The school bell rings. The one bell that rings from one transition to another, the sound that will haunt the students forever.
-2 years ago-
Captain Saturn Vasilias of the New York Police Force was in his cab to his destination for the assignment he was in. "10-2, we got a cartel in the dust facility, Ever Dust Inc., five males, two females on the road." One line have said from the radio. Saturn then picks up and speaks through the mic. "10-2 unit 6, close all the roads and don't let them escape." Saturn responded.
After driving at full speed, knowing he might have much time to prevent the crime of robbery in the dust facility and caught up with two cargo tricks in front of the entrance. The bombing was non-stop. The Schnee Family were a known crime family that illegally sells dust for weapons, their empire grew large since then. Saturn has been researching about them for years, but none of the family members has been caught. However, one of them, a young woman has been reporting about them and giving them tips since then, our of fear for the safety of her younger younger siblings, and would suffer the same fate. The woman then became an undercover informant.
Saturn then got off his cab, and takes out a megaphone as he spoke to an old man, who is in his 50s or 60s, wearing a casual suit, which is the sign of him being a ringleader of the cartel. "Jacques Schnee, you are under arrest for the robbery and numerous murders!" Saturn announced.
"Your father before you was a fool to think you could win this round!" Jacques retorts after ordering his men to raise their guns and pointed at him. "You never learn, haven't you, cold-blooded man?!"
Saturn's son, Jupiter has been behind his father this whole time and also pointed his sniper gun at him, mostly the main boss are the main targets. "Jupiter, you cannot draw weapons at him, you'll be charged with firearms! And you don't have a permit for that!" Saturn scolded him. "Relax, dad. Mom taught me a lot. Plus, this is the first time we have a father-son day in your fight." Jupiter remarks. But Saturn wasn't pleased. "Get ready, old man! Either you and your buddies come quietly and peacefully, or you'll regret it!" Jupiter warned.
"Peace? Peace is the very word I hate, as I hate all Vasilias'! Come at me then! Winter!" Jacques stated as he gave a hand signal to his men for gunfire. And called out his daughter, Winter to lead the gunfire. She came out and gave a signal to fire. Saturn and Jupiter hid behind the left side of the cab as the bullets created holes from a right side of the door. Jupiter then came out of hiding and shot back.
Jacques hid in his cargo for his own safety. And Saturn shots back at his arch-enemy. "Blasted Schnees, they don't know when to quit." Jupiter scoffed. Kept firing one after the other. Later, after a scuffle, Jacques got away in his own cargo. But the rest of his men have been caught, and some of the stolen dust has been recovered, but the rest were stolen.
Lydia, Saturn's wife, and Jupiter's mother, and a lawyer, cleaned some of the wounds they received from gunshots. Luckily they survived. But knowing her, she feared for her family's wellbeing and would scold them for getting too reckless. "Honestly, Saturn. You have enough damages for one day! And you, Jupiter, try not to get in the way for your father's patrol the next time."
"Sorry, Mom." Said Jupiter, crossing his arms.
"Sorry, honey. I'll make it up to you by making dinner tonight." He winces a little as Lydia puts rubbing alcohol on his bleeding shoulder. "Ah!" He hissed. "I am just glad Neptune wasn't here to witness this, it would've been traumatizing for him. Knowing how sensitive he was."
"I hope so too. Good thing our dear boy is at home minding his business." Lydia breathes in relief to know that her son is safe at home, or so she thought.
Later that afternoon, Neptune is in his bedroom doing his homework. Having headphones covering his ears with the music in his head. Then a knock on his window. It was a blonde-haired young man his age. Neptune then hears the knock and walks over to the window for a greeting. And opens the window. "Dude!" Neptune greets, and Sun jumps into the bedroom and gave him a handshake. "It's been a while."
"How've you been?" Asked Neptune. Sun then break away and gave him some stolen IDs with photos of him and Neptune. With different names that were related to crime empires. For Neptune, it's Kaman Aquors, and for Sun, it's Solar Reign. "What's with the fake IDs?" Asked Neptune. Sun smirked proudly as he thought of a great idea, or in Neptune's case, a bad idea. "Duh, I heard the Schnees are having a secret meeting for an auction. Where the stinking rich gathered around to buy stolen dust."
"Dude, no. I said it once, and I will say it again. No way. I cannot sneak out there and go to this auction. Dad will worry, and Mom, she'll be grounding me for a year if I ever go. I don't like how things were going as much as you do, but this is a bad idea." Neptune objects.
"Come on, Dude think of it as an undercover assignment. Think about it, once we have evidence to where Jacques Schnee is hiding, it will be the end of his empire. And plus, your dad will be so psyched, he will wanna make you part of his squad." Neptune then thought about it, his father has been stressing out for years fighting against the Schnees for their dangerous methods of running the business.
It worried him one bit as he saw his father feeling fatigued, coming home with wounds. Neptune then proceeds to think about the idea. Although it might get them into trouble, but it would give them the advantage for him to finally convince Saturn to rest up a bit. Neptune has no other choice but to accept the invitation. "Alright, if we're going to do this, we need a disguise. Knowing the Schnees, they would probably be after my family for being law enforcement."
"Alright! I knew you come around!" They high-fived. Later, Lydia came into her son's bedroom with dinner on the tray. "Sweetie, sorry your father and I are-Ah!" Lydia dropped her tray and it scattered into bits of vegetables and sushi. And saw that her son is gone and the window opened. "Oh my god! Saturn, he ran out again!" This is not the first time her sons have snuck out the bedroom window.
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Weiss, the heiress to the Schnee has arrived to her room to get ready to meet her mother. Since she came back from a business trip. "More tea, Miss Schnee?" Asked her butler, Klein who have been close to her since she was young. The only family member she had been interacting with is with her elder sister. "Your sister had returned from her business trip."
"Thank you Klein. You know, it's funny. Living in a private island with no one but your family. This is absolutely isolation for the matter. Father had some shady dealings. Mother appoints lawyers in cases of my father on trial. While my brother wasn't around, just with my father. "Well, it's natural to be alone sometimes, my dear. But at the same time, it wasn't okay. Hopefully your mother will get the time off and you can have a bond with her."
"Good idea. But in the meantime, I have to think about what to do for the rest of the day." Then Weiss hears footsteps. It was her elder sister, Winter. The main heir to the Schnee Mafia. Although neither of the sisters agree to this. They acted like they were used to this. Winter came back in a sweet after finishing tipping off the police. Without their father knowing it. "One more thing there and done." Winter sighs in relief.
Weiss is happy to see her sister appear in her room. "Winter!" Said Weiss. As she ran and embrace her sister once more. "How are you today my sister?" Winter said. Weiss broke away. "Not so bad." Weiss replied. "Welcome home, Miss Schnee. How are your shifts with your father?" Klein curtsied. But Winter said, "Klein, there's no need for you to address me. But it's good to see you too." Winter assured. Winter hates the life she is living right now and wants her father out of the picture to provide the freedom for her siblings.
"Did you know that Mother will be arriving soon?" Asked Weiss. But Winter was adamant and never wants to speak about their mother. But reluctantly, she had to keep her sister at Bay to not be down on suspicion. "Yes, I have heard. But for who knows how long." Winter responded. But their mother appeared before her. "I am right here you know." Sighed their mother.
"An evening with you, Mother." Sighed their mother, Willow. Willow walks over to Weiss, who she has been expecting to appear before her. With Winter ignored a bit. But to her relief. "To what will do I owe you, Mother?" Asked Weiss.
"I age forgotten that you are reaching adulthood at this time, darling." Said Willow. "Still, you look very lovely."
"Ah, yes. Weiss has been growing up with her studies and was ready to apply for a university at this age. But at the same time, she-"
"I know this is too much to ask, Weiss. But have you ever thought of marriage?" Weiss was a bit stunned for a moment. Never she thought her parents would ask of this. But was aware her mother had been arranged to marry her father at Weiss' age. "Not exactly, Mother. I haven't thought of that. Anything you want to add?"
"Oh, for goodness sake, Mother. Marriage? I thought we were over this. Weiss is young and you can't just arrange someone to marry her. That's objectifying her." Winter argued in her sister's defense. Knowing that it was a ludicrous solution.
"Your father has been running out of men for the run-ins at some point. Therefore we need to combine our empires. And your father has already picked out the best suitor for your sister." Willow argued back. And Winter can tell in the eyes of her mother that she is just too much into pleasing her husband. "The auctions start tomorrow and the selection, Henry Marigold will be there to seek her out. His father will be the solution to our problems." Said Willow.
"Um, Mother. I don't know about this. Maybe Winter is right. Never met him. And he probably won't like me anyway." Weiss took Winter's side, unsure if she should take the opportunity of pleasing, or the opportunity of arrangement. But then again, she has not seen either of her parents, or her younger brother. "I have not yet met this person. But since this might be the option to get out the manor, even for a moment. This might be her chance. "If it means it will help our family, then I will see to it. Give me time to get to know this person." Weiss said. And Willow clasped her hands in joy. "Splendid, starting tomorrow, we will get you ready." Willow gestures Klein to follow, leaving Weiss and Winter alone in the same room. Winter shook her head in disapproval.
"Weiss are you sure about this. Think about it. You can't have this. What about your dreams of university? You can't throw that away. What if this person was a tyrant?" Winter asked, unsure how is her sister going to deal with this. Normally Winter would defend her to keep her out of harm's way. Informing police in secret in hopes she would put her father in jail. But the thought of her sister in exploitation is the horror she wished she wouldn't have to hear. If two empires merged by union would mean bigger chaos with crime all over. And it would lead to square one. Another thing she has to report.
"I don't know, but no matter what, I'll have to keep and eye on things, just to be safe." Said Winter, this could be a chance to expose some darker secrets.
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Neptune and Sun have entered the auction without fail. Using the fake IDs with the names of the previous rich men Sun had stolen from before he arrived in New York. Wearing tuxes and mask to keep themselves covered. To not blow their cover.
The private island of Schnee was no problem to find. Since Neptune had been hacking in computers all his life, he has no issue to find the transmission networks of the island. Most of the time the wealth has been building private islands for isolated reasons, and they have the most secured equipment. "Must've taken a lot of money to build this place." Said Sun.
Neptune looks around while seeing people in dresses and tuxes, masks and jewelry. Chandeliers hanging from the ceilings. Portraits of Jacques in a series of timelines. What a show-off. Only a few portraits of him and his family. Tables with such beautiful silver cloths. "Tell me about it, sooner we take the photos, the sooner we get out of here. Here, every day the auctions were illegally run by the Schnee Mafia. Empires gathered to buy the most expensive loads of dust and weaponry." Neptune replied.
"I'll see if they got any contracts that are related to this. We need a list of surnames just to be sure." Said Sun. Neptune nods, "Good idea, I'll talk to some guests, see what they know. I'll also record anything on the way." Suggested Neptune. Sun then pats him on the shoulder for some luck for him. And left his side to go upstairs. Neptune came to look around for some whispering crowds. But someone who came across him when his eyes got caught, distracting him.
A young, white-haired woman his age wearing a dark blue dress, and silver necklace. A mask matching her dress with teal gems attached. The woman looked at him and gave him a smile. Neptune cannot make out for what he was feeling, as if a fever began to make his heart pound in his chest. But then the gaze was interrupted when a dark blue-haired young man, whose hair was combed to the side approached her before him. "Are you Weiss, how do you do?" Asked the man.
"Henry Marigold, I presumed?" Weiss asked. Henry then smiled and lend her his hand. "Indeed I am, I hope you can do me the offer in this dance."
"Of course." Sighed Weiss. Neptune is left disappointed at he was beaten to it. But decides to wait for the right moment to see what Weiss knows about the empire. While Weiss wants this to end, growing exhausted that Henry talks about himself and never asked Weiss of what she likes, or what hobbies. Finally, she has enough, and Weiss excused herself for some fresh air. Neptune takes this chance to approach her. "Evening Miss. How is tonight?" Asked Neptune.
Weiss rolled her eyes and thought she was about to get a round of boredom. Things did not go as planned. "Terrible, I thought tonight would go so well, but I felt like nothing, as if everything died down a bit." Weiss replied. Then Neptune offers her his hand. Weiss looks a bit surprised. "I hope you don't mind if I offer you this dance. If that's okay with you?" Neptune asked. He was a terrible dancer, if he can mimic the moves by watching the crowd of dancers, then he could pull this off. Weiss is a bit shocked, but felt flattered that a man asked if she would like to dance. His eyes captivated her in his gaze. The charming smile he drew on his face.
"Actually, I would love that." Weiss replies and takes his hand, and was pulled into the dancefloor. Trying his best to watch his steps while seeing how the others dance their hearts out. Weiss then gazed into his eyes. Meanwhile, a security guard whispered into Weiss' younger brother, Whitley's ear, and was shocked to see who was on the dancefloor with his older sister. "There's a dog scorching on the House of Schnee? No, absolutely not. By the length and honor of my kin, I shall take this by my own hand." Whitley was about to make a scene to expose Neptune, until he was stopped by his father. "Ah, son! It's a pleasure to see you're enjoying this party!"
"Father, don't you see who that was? That commoner is nothing more than that son of the cop who's been chasing you for years." Whispered Whitley. But Jacques refrains him from taking action. "Look as long as we don't create a scene. If we have blood drenched on our hands, we would be hunted down by his father. So just do me a favor and keep it down. I'll sent someone to take care of him by the morning." Said Jacques, then Whitley unwillingly complied and left without a word, defeated. But not before giving Neptune (who did not notice and whispers into Weiss' ear, as she giggles) a dirty look and then turned his head and went to his bedroom.
Then Weiss is escorted into the courtyard by Neptune to have a moment alone with him. "So, you don't see much of what went all in those kind of parties?" Asked Neptune as he sat near the fountain near Weiss. "Most of the time, I would stay in my mansion, the only times I went outside the island is when I have classes to attend. I always dreamed of going to university. But with my parents having different plans for me, I am not sure if that's happening any time soon."
"Really? I always wanted to study at a university too. When I was a kid, I always wanted to study in NYU." Neptune blushed as he looked at her once more. The more they chat, the more enchanting the night has become. Neptune seemed to forget for why he was here. Something about the girl he was staring at seemed familiar to him, but this is the first time they have met. "The last thing I wanted was a life of success and a bit of freedom, even if that freedom cannot last. I never saw my parents often, nor my brother when they're busy on the line of work. Surely I knew those kind of things were illegal. But how am I supposed to argue with that? Of course, I wasn't allow off this island to know more." Weiss sighs.
"I'm sorry, I guess it wasn't fair that you've been living here all your life. But hey, look on the bright side. How was this night now?" Asked Neptune. Weiss then blushed and giggled. "I guess it's okay, for now. Maybe tonight wasn't so bad when you came along. Something tells me you weren't from around here." Weiss questioned. Not sure if it's another one of those suitors her father had sent, but she didn't mind since he seemed to approach her sincerely.
"Oh, yeah. I was sent here. Just for inspection. It was getting boring to me, but meeting you, it got less boring." Neptune replied. Soon, neither of them realized they are getting closer and drew their faces nearer, and their lips touched to one another. Weiss caressed his cheek as they have kissed for a few minutes. It was like fireworks exploded in their hearts. But it was interrupted when Winter showed up in front of him. "Sister, what was the meaning of this?!" Confronted Winter.
Weiss and Neptune broke away. Weiss tried to find a way to make excuses. Although Winter does not mind letting her sister having a great time. But at the same time, she knew she have to pull her away to not let her face her father's wrath. "Come, Father is expecting you." Winter grabs her hand and pulls her away. Neptune follows and saw that Winter has escorted Weiss to her father, his father's arch-enemy, Jacques Schnee. Winter then whispers something to her ear. "I must warn you, his name is Neptune, and he is a Vasilias." Weiss is in shock and looks at Neptune with despair. Feeling she was tricked by a boy who enchanted her in this party. At least Winter did not tell her father about the kiss. Neptune was about to leave, but not before seeing Weiss smiling at him, a sign that they will meet again. Neptune still couldn't believe she was a Schnee, but he was happy to have met her. Sun then approaches him. "Hey man, where have you been?"
"Um..." Before Neptune can say anything, Sun smirked at the side of him he has been seeing. He could tell Neptune has been lovestruck. "Oh, I see what was going on here." He sang. "You've been infatuated." Neptune jolts at the state of blushing. Then waved his hand in defense. "No no no! That can't be true! I was just lost that's all."
"Really, I won't tell your dad. Just tell me about that girl you've been swooning with." Sun asked. Neptune wasn't sure how to describe to him. He would be a bit shocked to find out it was a Schnee he was dancing with. "How am I going to put with this. Okay, just keep calm when I say this. But the girl I was dancing with, she was a Schnee." Sun's eyes have bungled at a state of shock. Then shook his head and tries to set the record straight. "Dude, she is way out of your league, did you forget that her dad is a criminal, deadly mastermind?" Sun reminds him, but Neptune huffed in response. But manages to change the subject. "Dude, let's just get back to that later, right now we have to get out of here. Trying to get answers from her and she never knew much. But you can tell she has been living on this island too much. And her dad would've probably sent the guards by morning.
"Fine, you and I need a serious talk when we head back to New York." Sun sighs. One night, they were hiding somewhere in the jungle where the manor took place. Even if the trees are fake. Neptune then snuck into the gardens of the Schnee Manor to see Weiss standing on the balcony of her room. "The glimpse of her in front of the moon can't be more beautiful than the moon at sight. Her eyes matches the icy waters. And Weiss is the moon in the sight of my eyes."
"Oh Neptune, Neptune..." Weiss said as she thought of that name after the party after it grew quiet as the guests left. "She speaks." He said quietly. "Wherefore art thou my Neptune? Deny my father and refuse my name. For what is a name if thou wilt be? But be sworn my love and I won't be a Schnee."
"I defy my name too!" Neptune shouted as Weiss jolted in shock to see him below the balcony. "Goodness!" Weiss gasped in shock. She never expected him to meet her again. But worries what her father will do. "Neptune, what are you doing here? If Father finds out you're still here, he will kill you." Weiss whispered in a harsh tone. But Neptune uses a pillar to climb onto the balcony to speak with her.
"I know, but as a son of a cop. Unlike your father, my dad is more of an overprotective type. I knew you are form this family. But it doesn't matter, I just want to get to know you more. Therefore I also defy my name and would be preferred to be called by my first name." Neptune explains.
"For years both the Schnee and the Vasilias have been at war with one another and they were still at war now. It came to the point where I knew I cannot see you. But I want to know you as well. My father has been committing crimes I wished I should've stopped. There was nothing I can do. It was a never-ending bloodshed." Weiss adds, turning away for a bit. As Neptune listens.
"Last thing I wanted was this war to end. Although you are a Schnee, I don't see you as one, just a woman with culture and personality." He then lift her chin, gently as he follows. "So, maybe we can meet in New York, I know I can't stay here and get caught. I can take you anywhere you want. Just say the word and I'll do it."
"I would love that. But knowing my father, I will always get surrounded by security. Or in some cases, my sister, since she was older than me."
"Maybe I can come up with the sneakiest plan for us to escape security and we can hang out a bit more. Without both our parents' knowing." Neptune suggested.
Weiss has been thinking about it, she cannot stand being in the crowd of security. She knew her parents would forbid her from seeing him because he has Vasilias blood in his veins. But there was a side of him no one has ever seen. "Perhaps I will think about it. see if we can meet. I will give word to my sister. After all, maybe she can help with that." Said Weiss. Knowing her sister will be staying for a few weeks. Neptune then smiled as a response as they leaned in closer and kissed again. "Weiss! Where are you?!" Winter called. Once again, they break away from each other and Weiss knew she has to get back inside. "Coming, Winter!" Weiss called back. Then push Neptune away to get him to hide. "Quick, hide! Before security comes!" Weiss urges him until he fell off the balcony and landed on the bushes in the garden. "I'm okay!" Said Neptune.
The next day, Neptune returned home, only to find his parents waiting for him in the living room of his house. "Where have you've been, Neptune?! Do you have any idea how worried sick your mother has been?!" Scolded Saturn, he was not one to be harsh on his children, but never took his youngest for being a rebellious type. "Oh, hey dad. Sorry I am late, I was just out for a walk..." He said, nervously. But Saturn was a bit suspicious. "The thing is, I got bored and I couldn't help but feel a bit dizzy in my own home and thought I could get some fresh air. I didn't realized it was late and my phone has died." Neptune lied.
Saturn then approaches his son. And then places his hand on hos father's shoulder and sighs. "I am sorry, son. It wasn't fair for you to be kept in the house all day. We are worried for you, that's all." Saturn apologized.
"Are you sure you're not lying, bro?" Asked Jupiter, suspicious about his brother's whereabouts before he came back. He saw red in his face. It was a sign he was lying at some point. The last time Jupiter snuck out, his little brother was too honest enough to snitch on his brother.
"Just don't do it again. Next time just tell us, okay sweetie?" Asked Lydia. They were just going to let this slide and let this go, being the caring parents they are. Lydia then walks over to her husband and son and embraced them. Jupiter decides to let this go this time. But thought that the next time Neptune snuck out, he would have to follow him to see what he was doing.
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On the weekdays, Weiss and Neptune would have to escape security with the excuses of school activities after school. Only to sneak out of the school building and go on dates. First, Neptune has been taking her out to the movies on her request. Seeing a romantic movie about Titanic. How an upper-class woman has been forced into an arranged marriage, only to fall in love with a lower-class man who saw her as a person.
"Even with those differences, they found each other." Weiss teared up as she saw the ending as the love of the main protagonist's life has died from hyperthermia. Neptune wrapped his arms around her to comfort her. Weiss felt better after the ending. Unbeknownst to them, a curious ginger-haired girl takes a picture without a flash of light. They heard a click, but saw nothing as the young photographer hid from them.
Another day past and they were at a mall. But wrong move, Jacques' security team arrived to search for Weiss, but they hid in another shopping center, where they bribed the manager to help them escape. After they exit the building using an emergency exit, Neptune and Weiss laughed a bit. Thinking how awkward this say went.
The next day, they were at a park while avoiding some eyes that might see them. Suddenly, some classmates they never recognized in their school approached them and asked them to take a photo for the school yearbook. "Can we take a photo of you guys?" Asked a raven-haired boy. They gladly accepted and Weiss and Neptune posed together. Not thinking twice before, cause they were having too much of a great time. Then Neptune spotted his brother looking for him. He then yanks Weiss with him and ran off before Jupiter could see them.
The next date, Neptune has to sneak out of his house. But not before his older brother notice and decides to follow him. Neptune has taken Weiss to a cafe, where she can try some latte, something her father would not allow her too. "I don't know, I wasn't allow to have some caffeine." Weiss said with hesitance. But Neptune insisted to make her feel good about being outside of the island and some relief from isolation. "Come on, one taste cannot hurt."
Weiss took one sip of the straw and felt the flavors on her tongue. And felt the cool but tasty features of the latte. "Oh, that was blistering, but sweet. What else can you show me? I cannot believe we hadn't been caught yet." Weiss giggled.
"I cannot believe it either." That is, until a voice interrupted them. "A-ha! I knew you were lying this whole time, Neptune." They then turned to see Jupiter standing before them. He is not happy to see him with Weiss, knowing she was a Schnee and he hates the family that committed the crimes against his. And seeing him with the daughter of the Schnee family made him furious. "Neptune, who is this? He looks like my sister's age." Asked Weiss as Neptune stood in front of Weiss to prevent Jupiter form doing anything to her. As he approaches his brother. "What were you thinking, she is a Schnee for crying out loud! Her family are criminals and they hunted down our family for years!" Jupiter shouted as they crowd from different tables are watching. "Jupiter, I can explain!" Neptune defended. But Jupiter grabs his wrist, tightly. "Home, now." Jupiter hissed.
"Gee, do you have to be this scary?" Neptune flinched. Then Jupiter turned to Weiss in pure anger. "And you, tell your sister to meet me in Times Square. And stay away from my brother, or else..." Weiss looked at him in shock as his face grew a bit frightening. Neptune then looked at her with sadness. "I'm sorry, Weiss." Neptune apologized, before being dragged away from her and then back home. At least Jupiter is not going to tell their parents about the relationship. But decided to keep Neptune watched 24/7. To not let the daughter of the criminals see him again, fearing she will use him for their father's information.
After two weeks, Neptune received a text from Weiss. Telling him they need to talk and to meet him at Central Park. Neptune manages to block the cameras hidden beneath the walls meant to keep an eye on him. Jupiter has no idea what hit him. Then jumps out of the window again. Ran in to Weiss at the Central Park.
"Hey, Snow Angel. What's up?" Before Neptune can ask a bit more. Weiss started to tear up. "I'm sorry, I cannot see you anymore, Neptune." Weiss wipes her tears from her eyes. "It was a mistake, I never should've met you." Neptune is appalled to hear that she won't be seeing him anymore as he thought he did something wrong to make things worse. "What do you mean, did I do something wrong. Please, Weiss. I want to know what I did wrong." Neptune pleaded, wanting to comfort her and console her. As he gets closer to her, she pushes him away.
"The truth is, I am getting married." Neptune thought his ears were playing tricks when Weiss mentions she was getting married. "My father planned this from the start, he knew you were at the party that night. And the fact that you were the son of a cop, he was furious. He told me he knew about our dates. And if I don't go with the plan of marrying the son of another mafia, he would kill your father and you." Weiss explains. Neptune is shocked. He never knew her father would gone too far.
"Weiss." Neptune then wrapped her arms around her. But Weiss wants to protest this. But her feelings of warmth from him are too strong and she allows herself to, as if it were the last time before she meets her fate. "I'm sorry, I am sure that we cannot see each other again. But it was for the best if you're alive and your family as well. I think this is goodbye, Neptune." Weiss then turns away and walks away to depart from him.
But Neptune did not just stand there and watch, instead he stopped her and she turned back to look at him. "Neptune, I told you. We're different. I am the criminal's daughter, and your the son of the police captain. We're just not meant to be. I enjoyed these times together."
Neptune did not take these words to heart as he then decides to defy the opposites. He then brings out a small box wrapped in a ribbon. "Weiss, I don't care about any of that. Like I said, I defy my name and renounce the name of Vasilias. Just like you said, you also defied the name of Schnee. Therefore for me, you're just Weiss. And I won't define you by name. And I won't be preferred by the name Vasilias. I am Neptune, and only Neptune."
"Neptune. Somehow you managed to convince me. And for some reason, I have no regrets meeting you. The stars, the ocean, and the night sky, it will always remind me of the night we met. I also dreamed not only for university, but to also see you there. Where we can be free of our differences."
Weiss then looks up in the night sky and Neptune turned to the gift box. It was the perfect place for the right moment. Even if it is too early. His family will not like this, and her family will not like this either. But now would be a matter of time to ask her something. In hopes to free her from the Mafia life under her father's rule. "Weiss, I know we have met for a couple of days and months, but I was hoping I will ask you this."
Weiss then turned to Neptune who had knelt down and he opened the box to reveal a golden ring. Not expensive, but it was enough for Weiss to know the love he has for her. The real love she has wanted for a long time. "Neptune, you know we can't."
"I know, but I want to be the one to make you happy. If you let me, I'll try my best to give what I can give you. I will free you from this, and when we run, and cut ties with our families completely, this way, you can settle. Weiss Schnee, will you marry me, and join me in the flow of time?" Neptune's eye sparkled. Weiss can never be happier than before, as she wrapped her arms around him as he slips the ring in her finger. The least they have to do is survive their family feuds.
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The next afternoon, Winter and Jupiter are in a middle of a gun showdown as they came into a Mexican stand-off. "This time we will settle this once and for all, Schnee." Jupiter then cocks his rifle as he was the master marksman. But Winter has ready her gun after filling her bullets with her pistol. "You should appreciate when I became an informant for your father. I just want this war to end as much as you do."
"But not with you. These past few years were a streak of humiliation. Your father will not get away any longer without his secret weapon, mainly you. How does my father tolerate you this easily?" Jupiter snared. Glaring at her with such hatred. "Stop!" Then Neptune came in between them. "What are you doing, little bro?! Get out of the way!"
Neptune then turned to Jupiter. "No, bro! Let me handle this!" Then he turned to Winter. "I'm sorry my brother has been causing trouble for you! But for min and Weiss' sake, stand down!" Pleaded Neptune. Jupiter refuses to go down without a fight. And starts firing the gun, then Winter got behind the rails and shots back while Neptune and Jupiter also hid. "Sorry, Neptune, but this war has to come to an end."
Winter did not waste time to fire back. Jupiter then emerges and shots back. Neptune then fights back by tugging onto Jupiter's gun. "Let go of the gun, Neptune!" Jupiter yelled. "I'm doing this for the good of the family!"
"Good by foot!" Neptune retorted. Winter then lowers her weapon as she was about to say something. "Don't you realized this war has gone too far?! You and Winter have the power to stop this! If not for Dad, do it for me!" Pleaded Neptune as they kept fighting over the gun. Finally, Jupiter knocks out Neptune. Both are once again in position.
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